-Unsuspecting Sunday Afternoon

There are so many important moments in a normal person's life. There are weddings, children being born; getting that job you so desperately wanted. When you were a witch or wizard, important moments multiplied. Passing NEWTs was extremely important to most. Being able to successfully cast your first spell was another. The defeat of the Dark Lord had been the most important moment to date. Now, in her seventh year, Hermione Granger wanted to experience one of the next most important moments in her life before leaving Hogwarts. She had been secretly planning this for weeks. She had not mapped out a plan or tried to study up on the subject, something untrue to form. She had already set herself up for things to not go perfectly, not like a storybook. No, storybooks were just that; not real, not raw. She wanted to remember this moment like no other, in all its imperfect glory.

Then again, she hoped to be able to even experience the moment at all. For this moment, this important occurrence, involved the willing participation of another. In fact, it required the willing participation of the one person she trusted the most. Weeks before, it hit her like a ton of bricks; she trusted this person with her life. Why not trust him with this? She had known him since they were eleven. He had seen her at her worst and vice versa. Yes, the more she had thought about it the more it made sense; clicking together like puzzle pieces.

She calmly made her way to the Great Hall on that Saturday morning. She looked down and wondered if she had chosen appropriate clothing for the day. She never was one for fashion sense. She opted for one of her school skirts, shortening it with a quick sowing spell and a fitted white shirt. This was definitely not the norm for her and she hoped she wouldn't seem too obvious. Once she made it to the doors, she had to force herself to continue moving. There he was, in their usual spot at the Gryffindor table. She knew this was her moment to approach him, hopefully setting into motion the actions she longed to experience. "Good morning, boys." Her tone was cheerful with a smile to match. Ron simply nodded his hello, his mouth too filled with food at the moment.

"Morning, Hermione." She watched her innocent friend fondly, knowing he hadn't a clue of what was about to go down. Harry was, without a doubt, the perfect male specimen. Gone were the days of an awkward, nerdy-looking boy who had no idea what the wizarding world had to offer. That boy was now replaced by a man who had learned to hone his magical skills, accepted the fact that people could love him, and taken a huge liking to Quidditch. The last is what helped his body develop into something young witches longed to touch. She was so lost in her thoughts that she hadn't noticed her two friends staring at her. "Hermione," Harry began slowly, "stand up."

'Damn, I should have known better.' She continued to mentally scold herself as she found the strength to stand. "What's wrong?"

"Bloody hell, Hermione, you've never dressed like…that before!" Ron was clearly shocked at her chosen attire. "Are you trying to give us a heart attack? Do you want Harry and me to get detention for beating up every horny wizard that looks at you?"

"Ronald, it's just clothing," she sighed, rolling her eyes in the process. She took that moment to look at Harry, his mouth slightly open and his eyes traveling over her entirety. "Are you going to scold me to?" 'Please say yes, please say yes!

He shook his head, his eyes returning to hers, following them as she seated herself once again. "Have anything planned for today?"

Hermione inwardly smiled. "Actually Harry, I wanted to discuss something important with you. What have you planned for the day?"

"We've got Quidditch practice after breakfast." Hermione scrunched her nose as she watched Ron finish his sentence with a mouth half full of food. "What?" His eyes shone the true ignorance to her glare.

"Honestly Ron, I feel sorry for any witch you date. You'll have to have a sneeze-guard between the two of you if she plans on any type of conversation at dinner."

"A sneeze what?" Ron looked completely confused as he glanced between an annoyed Hermione and smirking Harry.

"Never mind," she sighed. She gained the courage to look into Harry's eyes once again. "What about after practice?"

"I'm completely yours." At this, Hermione dropped her fork. She coughed lightly as she tried to swallow her food. The last thing she needed was to choke to death. "Hermione, are you okay?"

She sipped some pumpkin juice, allowing her throat to clear. She watched as Ron and Harry exchanged odd looks, eventually returning their gazes to her. "I'm fine, just went down the wrong pipe." Ron shrugged and continued eating while Harry nodded his head with acceptance for the explanation. "Just meet me in our common room after practice."

"Not a problem," he smiled.

Feeling like her first part of the mission was complete; she quickly rose and prepared to leave. "Ron, don't eat so much you throw up during practice. Harry, I'll see you in a while." She smiled warmly and quickly turned away, almost bouncing out of the Great Hall.

Ron and Harry both leaned forward, gazing at Hermione's leaving figure."You can see her damn knickers!" Ron quietly hissed. "What bloody right does she have dressing like that?" He looked to see Harry still staring. "And you! Some bloody help you were! If I didn't know better, you enjoyed that."

"Ron, she's no longer that eleven-year-old we met on Hogwart's Express. She's seventeen…"

"I know how bloody old she is, Harry!"

"She's trying to find herself. I may be her best friend, but I'm not blind. In fact, I'm single and find no embarrassment in enjoying the female form when presented as so."

"Harry, this is Hermione! She's our bossy, know-it-all, study-aholic, best friend." He looked at Harry, watching his eyebrows rise up and down. "You're not right," he sighed in defeat.