Disclaimer: I'm a starving college student. Obviously I don't own Harry Potter.
Harry and Hermione sat in the Gryffindor common room on a Saturday night in December, she studying, he playing absently with the Golden Snitch Dumbledore had left him. It was their seventh year at Hogwarts—though, one might argue it was really their eighth, since they had been absent during what should have been their seventh. After the war, the two decided to repeat the year, finishing out their educations. Ron had not joined them, stating that school was "a bloody waste of time," and instead joined the Cannons as a reserve Keeper. He hadn't played yet, but was just happy to be part of the team.
As Harry was now spending more time with Hermione than he had before, he had learned that studying really was a better way to spend his time than playing wizard chess or checking out the fit girls (though he still did his fair share of both). So he studied frequently, did his homework, with only minimal help from Hermione, and found a love for school that had previously been missing.
Tonight, however, he had finished all his homework, and was enjoying an evening of leisure—the first of many, as the Christmas holidays were coming up soon. Hermione was scribbling furiously, which made him curious. She usually got her homework done long before he did, even now that he actually liked school.
"I thought you'd finished your homework," he commented.
"I did," she muttered, her eyes never leaving the page, and her quill never ceasing to scratch across it. "I'm just making some moderate revisions."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Nerd."
She glanced up at him, one eyebrow raised, then returned to her work.
His body grew warm as he watched her. Among his love for school and studying, he had also discovered a different love. His feelings for Hermione had increased rapidly over the past several months, but it wasn't until she and Ron broke up that he came to terms with them. However, he hadn't said anything to her, believing she needed time to adjust to single life and get over Ron.
Now that Ron so seldom came up in their conversations, he was confident that she had moved on, and he was ready to take things to the next level with her.
The question was... would she accept him?
Only one way to find out. Harry racked his brains for something to say that would distract her enough from her homework to give him her full attention. Sadly, the first thing that popped into his head was the most abrupt and random thing imaginable.
"Have you heard of the term 'cougar'?"
Her quill stopped, the scratching ceased, and she stared blankly at the page for a few moments before frowning up at him. "I beg your pardon?"
He grinned. "The term 'cougar,'" he explained. "It's a slang word, referring to an older woman who seeks out younger men."
One eyebrow raised at this information. "I can't say I've heard that one before."
Nodding, Harry's smile grew. "I was just thinking... well, you're older than most of the guys here..."
Her expression grew indignant, and her face darkened. "Harry James Potter, are you suggesting that I am a... a cougar?"
"No," he shrugged. "Just that you would be if you dated any of the guys here."
She stared at him for a long moment before setting her quill down, folding her hands and resting her chin on them. "And what, may I ask, prompted this particular train of thought?"
"Well, I..." Harry's face grew warm, and he lost his nerve. "You see, I know a guy in our year who... thinks you're rather fit... but he's quite a bit younger. Almost a whole year, in fact. And... I don't know, that just popped into my head."
"Really?" she asked, seeming amused. "Who is he?"
He bit his lip. "He... asked me not to tell you."
She rolled her eyes. "For heaven's sake. And they say girls are pathetic."
"Oi!" Harry cried, folding his arms.
"Well, why doesn't this mystery man just tell me how he feels?" she demanded in a loud voice, shooting up from her seat. "I'm sure he'd gain much more by actually approaching me, rather than trying to remain in secret by going through my best friend." She plopped down beside him, and Harry took a moment to rejoice in his success in getting her away from her work. Now he had to actually man up and tell her how he felt. That was going to be easier said than done.
"Fear of rejection?" He said it as a question, a guess.
Hermione sighed. "Well, perhaps you could tell him that... if he comes to me, then I promise that I will be kind, and should he wish to ask me to Hogsmeade this weekend, I'm willing to go with him—if only just the once," she added.
Harry felt a boost in his confidence at that. "Okay," he said with a smile. She gave a brief smile in return, then her eyes wandered toward the fireplace. After a moment, he mustered up his courage. "Hermione?"
"Yes, Harry?"
"Would... would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me?"
Hermione's head snapped in his direction, her eyes wide with shock. Then, he could see the cogs in her head turning as she put it all together. One corner of her lips curled in a slight smile, and something akin to curiosity lit her brown eyes.
"It's you," she whispered.
He blushed and nodded his head. "I just didn't know how to say it."
"So you picked cougars?"
His blush deepened. "I had to pick something to get you away from that bloody assignment—which, by the way, isn't even due until Tuesday!"
It was Hermione's turn to blush. "You know me," she huffed, glancing away. "I like to get things finished early."
"You finished it Thursday."
"I had to make some necessary revisions!"
Harry rolled his eyes. "Right. Knowing you, it was already a perfect assignment, and you just added a lot of extra stuff to make it a notch above perfect, thereby making it impossible for even the cruelest of teachers to discredit your work, which I imagine is a habit you picked up after six years of taking Snape's classes."
Hermione stared at him in awe. "Wow."
"What, 'wow'?"
"I just... didn't realize you knew me so well."
"Hermione, we've been best friends for more than seven years, and we spent several months in a tent together, in very close proximity. Add to that the fact that I am highly smitten by you, and it shouldn't be a surprise that I know you so well."
Her cheeks turned pink, and she smiled. "Highly smitten?"
At any other time, Harry might have been embarrassed, or at least try to play it off like it was nothing. But there was no lying to Hermione. She could read him like one of her many bloody books.
"Almost to the point of obsession," he admitted. "It's pathetic, and I feel like I'll have to turn in my man card for this... but I don't care." He paused for a moment, then took a breath. "So... Hermione, will you go to Hogsmeade with me?"
She smiled. "I guess I can do that."
Harry heaved an inward sigh of relief. "Good," he beamed.
"So, if I'm the cougar, what does that make you?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, is there a slang term for the younger man in the relationship?"
His heart jumped up to his throat. "This is a relationship?"
Hermione bit her lip and stared at her hands, which were fidgeting with a loose strand on the hem of her skirt. "I... I wouldn't be opposed to it, if it were. I've... well... I'm pretty smitten with you, as well."
Harry could have danced for joy. He didn't bother to hide his smile as she glanced shyly up at him. "Then you'll be my girlfriend?" he asked.
"If you want me to be."
Rather than try to come up with any sort of verbal response, Harry simply leaned forward, pressing his lips tenderly to hers. It was every bit as cliché and perfect as the movies described: he saw fireworks, felt butterflies, and just knew it was right.
"Does that convince you?" he whispered.
Hermione just smiled and pulled his head toward hers again. After several minutes of mild to moderate snogging, the new couple lay on the couch in comfortable silence, curled up together, sharing one another's warmth.
"You never answered my question," Hermione said.
"Which one was that?"
She grinned. "Is there a term for the younger man?"
"Oh," he laughed quietly. "Er... I don't know."
Hermione, still smiling, shifted her position so that she was looking into his eyes. "A puppy," she said after a while. "I think a puppy would suit you."
"A puppy?" he grimaced. "That's what you think I am? I was hoping for something a little more... manly."
She smirked. "Aw, but you're just so cute and cuddly!"
"Cuddly?" he repeated in disgust.
Hermione dissolved into a fit of giggles, and soon, Harry had joined in. After a while, they regained control, and lay in another peaceable silence.
"Hermione?"
"Mmm?"
"I love you."
She gazed at him in wonder, then smiled warmly. "I love you, too."
They smiled and shared another kiss, before falling asleep in the flickering glow of the fire.
A/N: Lame ending. Puh. :P Oh well. What'd you think? Yes, it's super cheesy, but I was just in a cheesy mood when I wrote it. Heck, I'm always in a cheesy mood! :D Please review! I love getting feedback!