Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

A/N- Continual thanks to my beta Binita for all the hard work you gave in helping me with the final scene.

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He never really noticed before how the light from the fireplace glazed over her features, making her seem surreal and angelic. The golden light danced across her face and shined within the depths of her dark brown hair. It had tamed over the years, cascading down her shoulders and its length giving the littlest Weasley a run for her money. All in all, it was a beautiful picture and he couldn't help but stare. Unfortunately, said picture's object didn't quite notice. Or care, for that matter.

"You know, that Divination homework isn't going to do itself." Hermione said disapprovingly. She gave a helpless sigh and waved her hand in front of his face.

"Wha—what are you doing?" he huffed, batting her hand away.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I told you not to keep taking that old bat's class, what she teaches is rubbish and you're better off taking something worthwhile like Arithmancy. Now that's a fascinating class. And to better prepare for the real world…" she drifted off and cast her eyes down.

He sighed, "Don't worry about it 'Mione, I'll just get help from Seamus, he's good at this. And besides, what better to prepare for the real world than to practice making up situations in which the planetary movement transition of Pluto to Neptune forecast that we're having chicken for dinner tonight?"

She raised her eyebrows. "What, how will that help?"

"Simple. While I'm sprouting nonsense and Voldemort is struggling to follow I'll raise my wand and BANG. Good ol' Neptune."

"That's ridiculous. If you want to scare the man, just have Professor Trelawney show up in her night things. It's guaranteed to scare even the Dementors."

He laughed and turned around at the sound of the portrait opening. Ginny came in and headed over to where they were sitting, her arms loaded with books checked out from the library.

"Hey guys," she dropped her books on the chair, "hope I'm not interrupting anything."

He smiled and reached out to ruffle her hair, "Not a thing, just the usual bad guy baiting." He snatched his hand back quickly before Ginny could land a blow.

"Hmph. Well in that case I'm heading upstairs to finish my rewrite for Flitwick's class. See you at dinner." With that, she hoisted her books back into her arms with a groan and made the long trek up the winding staircase.

He turned to look over at Hermione, who had her nose buried in "Terribly Difficult Potions That No One Can Make." A soft smile graced his face before he picked up his quill and turned to his unfinished chart.

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He sat atop his broomstick and placed a hand over his eyes. He quickly scanned the crowd roaring their support for the Gryffindor team and located her, her hair blowing sharply in the wind, her face lighting up as she joined the crowd in their cheers. His heart swelled and he waved to her when he caught her attention. She smiled and waved in return. With that, he swung closer to hear Madam Hooch's whistle and the start of the game.

The wind whipped through his locks as he flew back and forth, keeping his eyes on the players and most importantly, her. It wouldn't do to be hit by a bludger and knocked off of his broom; how embarrassing would that be? At Lee Jordan's shout, his adrenaline flowed through his veins and a mischievous grin flashed.

"Gryffindor scores! 110 to 50!"

Not for the first time, he wished she would cheer once just for him, and only him.

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She smiled at him, her eyes glowing. He responded and drew closer to her. "'Mione, there's something I've been meaning to tell you---"

"AHHHHHHH!"

He bolted out of bed and cast aside the bed curtains of his best friend. "What's wrong?" His face turned pale at the sight of his friend thrashing about. He quickly ran over to the pitcher of water on the ledge and poured some into a goblet, giving it to him.

Trembling, the boy took a sip and laid back. "I'm sorry, it was just horrible. A nightmare…"

"What happened?" Dean sat next to him on the bed. "The usual things...? Or did you run headlong into a Quidditch post and plummet to your death?"

"That one still haunting you, Dean?"

"I was 50 ft in the air, what do you think?"

He smiled at his bickering friends and turned back to the other. "Everything all right now?" He really wanted to go back to his own dream, but was willing to wait if otherwise.

"Yes, yes I'm fine. Thanks…" His friend turned back to his side and closed his eyes, breathing slow and deep.

He quietly slipped the curtains closed and motioned for Dean and the others to go back to sleep. He headed back into his own bed and slipped underneath the covers. It was a wonderful dream, but now that he thought back on it, what would have happened if he continued towards her? Would she have returned the kiss…or moved on to something more? He didn't know, and wasn't sure he was prepared to find out.

He closed his eyes and sighed.

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He snapped to attention as Snape slammed the door shut behind him. It wouldn't do for him to get into trouble; he'd already gotten a detention from Vector for falling asleep in class and Hermione was plenty disappointed in him. ("With N.E.W.T.S coming up, how could you?")

He glanced over at the table next to his to see aforementioned subject looking back at him. His heart pumped faster and he let a smirk grace his features before turning back to Professor Snape. The potion they were brewing today, the Penurious Potion, was very complicated and if brewed properly ("Which I severely doubt since this class is more useless than a group of Flobberworms") would create an overwhelming amount of galleons and sickles. Unfortunately, because of the rarity of pure ingredients, the money created would disappear after an hour.

Working diligently on his potion, he almost didn't notice the slight nudge on his shoulder. He did however, feel the rather hard shove that followed.

"What… Hemione! Don't do that!" he whispered, rubbing his shoulder.

"Well I had to get your attention somehow before you blew the whole class up. You're potion is supposed to be a golden color, not yellow!"

"I fail to see the difference. Gold is a shade of yellow, is it not?"

"That's not really the point—"

He turned and dropped the cut-up root into the cauldron, making the potion turn to an orange color. "See? It's getting closer."

She snorted and went back to her own, "It was better off being yellow. Anyway, I just wanted to ask if you had a date to the Christmas Ball tomorrow night."

"Err…no, why do you ask?"

"Well…I…I heard Lavender talking about how much she wanted to go with you. She has a crush on you, you know. Almost all the girls do."

Every one but her. "Does the idea bother you? No, I don't have a date."

"Oh, well, that's okay, I'm sure you'll find somebody." She stirred the potion and smiled as it took on a perfect gold tint.

"Yes…I hope so." He frowned briefly and turned back to his potion, which was now green. He sighed. "Damn."

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Her hand skimmed the surface of the balustrade, a plain silver ring the only adornment on her fingers. A brilliant smile lit up her face and made the pastel colors decorated on her skin stand out. It was a breathtaking view.

He anxiously awaited her at the stairs, marveling at the way the lights from the faeries did wonders to her. In his mind though, she looked gorgeous in anything she wore, whether it be the Hogwarts school uniform, her faded muggle pajamas, or a glittering ball gown. He longed to tell her how he felt, but nervousness kept the emotions at bay. Should he tell her tonight?

No, not tonight. Tonight was a time allotted to having fun, and he wouldn't want anything to spoil the moment. He beamed at her as she reached the final step and held out his arm.

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He shut the Transfiguration text book closed and leaned back in his chair. "I can't spend one more minute on this!"

"Now, now, you know with exams coming up you have to study, otherwise you won't do well and then what would happen? I mean, you'd never graduate, and you'd have to spend all your time—"

"Hermione, calm down." He tossed his legs over the side of the armchair. "I'll be fine. All I want is just a ten minute break where I can close my eyes and not have to think about how many snake scales go into an Aptness Duality Potion, or how many swish and flicks it takes to perform the Tetamentas Spell. Is that okay with you?" He sighed at the hurt that flashed across her face. "I'm sorry, I promise I'll study extra hard so I can pass my N.E.W.T.S."

She smiled and wrapped her arms around him. "I know you will. I'm just worried, that's all."

"I appreciate it immensely. Tell you what; why not come with me for a walk around the lake? I need the fresh air." He asked, straightening out and heading towards the portrait hole.

"We really shouldn't…" she drifted off at the pleading look on his face, "Alright, let me get my cloak." She picked up the black robe she had flung over a chair and followed him outside.

The pair walked relaxed and content alongside the lake, each one lost in their own thoughts. The moonlight shone on the dark water, illuminating the area and the fallen leaves that were scattered across the lawn, their rustling echoing in the night. A cool breeze drifted just then and he shifted his attention to his companion.

"Hermione, there's been something I've been meaning to say to you…"

She paused, "What is it?"

He moved forward, closing the gap between the two. Stumbling upon his words he said, "Well, the thing is…I ... er…" He looked up into her shining, encouraging eyes.

"Hermione, I..." he hesitated again and watched as she licked her lips earnestly.

"Aw, bloody hell." He leaned in and pressed his lips against hers urgently. She started in surprise but responded to the kiss, her fingers sliding and curling neatly in his hair. He moaned in the back of his throat and lightly cupped her chin as he tilted her face upwards, the kiss deepening and growing more intense. Gradually, the need for oxygen became necessary, and they broke apart, gasping.

Harry grinned and trailed his fingertip along the hollow of her throat. "You see Hermione…" He stopped and captured her sigh with a light, tender kiss.

"I love you."