Daydreams and Muses

A freezing wind sliced through the hallways of St. Wilkin's High School, forcing Hermione to pull her jacket around her tighter despite the fact that she knew it wouldn't do any good.

She really hated the cold.

"Stupid June," she grumbled, clutching her books tight against her chest as she stepped outside. It was supposed to be hot in June. Why was it snowing?

She moaned in exaggerated apprehension at braving the even colder outdoors to make it out to her car so she could go home. "It'll be warm at home," she whispered to herself. "The sooner I get to my warm house the better."

She practically sprinted to her car, her heart leaping to her throat when she lost her footing on a patch of ice for a split-second. She managed to stay upright and flung herself into her car, throwing her books on the passenger seat and starting the engine as quickly as possible so it would warm up. She barely resisted the urge to turn on the heater, her brain trying to trick her into thinking it would be warm despite her knowing the fact that the engine was still too cold for the heater to actually be warm.

Teeth chattering and fingers stiff, Hermione managed to grab her seatbelt and click it in place before reversing out of the parking spot and heading home.

"You warm yet, love?"

A small smile made its way onto her face as a handsome face framed by jet-black hair and round spectacles floated to the front of her mind. His name was Harry Potter, and he was the one who had asked her that the last time she had seen him, which had been an oddly cold August 31st of last year.

That single memory, of course, sparked a whole host of bittersweet memories that took their turns torturing her.

"Gardening section?" Hermione asked skeptically, glancing around the bookstore she worked at to see if he had some friends hiding, just waiting to laugh at her when she made a fool of herself. No teenagers in their right minds were interested in gardening!

The customer frowned absent-mindedly. "I'm having issues keeping my primroses from dying," he said, rubbing his brow. "And I don't know why."

Hermione frowned. "That's odd," she said, motioning her to follow him as she led him toward the gardening section of the bookstore, her worries about this being a prank evaporating as she thought about what could be killing them. She was quite possibly the only other teenager in all of Great Britain who was interested in gardening. "Are they indoor or outdoor?"

"Outdoor," he replied distractedly, eyeing some of the books they passed as they headed toward the gardening section.

"English primroses?" she inquired further.

"Auricula," the customer replied.

"How far apart are they planted?" Hermione asked.

"Eleven inches," he answered.

"How often do you water them?" she asked, getting more and more interested in pinpointing the mistake this young man had made.

"Every other day during the summer," he said.

Hermione stopped dead in her tracks, cocking her head. "Well there's your problem," she said, glad she could be of help. The man stopped and finally looked at her, his eyes widening a little. "We're not experiencing a drought at the moment, and primroses only like their soil moist, not wet. I assume you have a drainage system set up?" The man nodded, his eyes not leaving hers. Hermione smiled. "Try watering them only once a week."

He was still staring at her as though he had seen something he wasn't expecting. Hermione self-consciously glanced down at her body to see if there was something wrong with her clothes. As she expected, nothing was amiss. "Sir?" she said worriedly.

He jumped and quickly shook his head, smiling apologetically. "Once a week," he said, tapping his head. "Right. Thank you."

"No problem," she replied, smiling.

The man turned around and took a slow step, seemingly debating with himself about something. Hermione frowned and turned to walk away to give the man some space, but the customer quickly turned back around and said, "Excuse me."

Hermione turned to face him again, the smile back on her face. For some reason she couldn't help but feel happy about helping him - he gave off the vibe of needing some help from someone like her...not that she could describe what 'someone like her' meant.

Maybe she was being narcissistic.

The man cleared his throat. "I...uh..." he smiled weakly and scratched at the back of his neck, embarrassment seemingly stopping him.

Hermione's smile grew a little wider. He was so handsome, especially when embarrassed. "I like to 'uh' sometimes, too," she said.

The man swallowed, the weak smile still on his face. "Would you like to 'uh' some time together, then?" he asked, then cringed.

Hermione couldn't help the giggle that escaped her lips. Then, when she realized what he was truly asking, she froze and her face slowly but steadily grew redder and redder until she was sure it could be used to keep a family spending the night on a patio warm.

The man shook his head and stuttered, "I...I'm sorry, that was stupid. Um..." he trailed off, maybe hoping for Hermione to respond. When she didn't, he scratched his chin and quickly said, "Thanks for the help with the primroses. I should probably get going." He turned as if he meant to sprint out of the bookstore.

"Wait," Hermione practically squeaked. When the man stopped, Hermione quietly said, "I'm free on Saturday. But before anything else, I'd really like to know your name."

The man slowly turned back around to face her, the relief on his face visible. "Harry Potter," he said, then sheepishly smiled. "Sorry for asking you out in such a weird way"

Hermione quickly shook her head. "It's more the fact that you're the first guy to ask me out," she admitted quietly, hoping it wouldn't make him take it back. He deserved to know, though.

Harry frowned. "I must be the only guy with a functioning brain, then," he said. "You're beautiful."

Once again, Hermione felt the heat rising to her cheeks. "Thanks," she said, not knowing what else to say. Why was this so awkward? Then she remembered. She hadn't introduced herself yet! "I'm Hermione Granger, by the way."

"Shakespeare?" Harry said, surprised.

Hermione was impressed. Nobody under the age of fifty had said that after hearing her name. 'Weird' was usually the word people their age used to describe her name.

She nodded. "My parents are big fans of his," she said, still waiting for his possible approval.

"What a great name," he said, smiling at her in a way that made her knees weak.

This one was definitely her type. Hermione patted her pockets to find her pen and notepad, pulling them out when she felt them. She scribbled down her phone number and handed the paper to Harry with a shaking hand, sure the numbers would be blotted from the sweat coating her palm.

"I have to get back to work," she said, wanting nothing more than to leave Harry's presence at that moment so she could de-sweat herself. "That's my phone number. Give me a call whenever to give me specific details." Harry was still looking at the number. "Um...bye."

With that, Hermione left Harry standing in the middle of the bookstore to head to the bathroom and cry out of sheer joy.

Hermione felt her face heat up as she stopped at a red light. Looking back on it, the way she thrusted the paper into his hands, bossed him around, then said 'um...bye' was more than a little mortifying, but she really didn't know what do when it was happening. All of that was her natural defense mechanism kicking in.

It was a good thing she had managed to hold it at bay during their first date.

"I really like how you've done up your hair, Hermione," Harry said before taking a bite of the pasta sitting before him.

They were in an italian restaurant that was fancy enough to be lit by candles on each of the tables, yet cheap enough that they could dress informally and still fit in with the other patrons.

"Does it really look good?" Hermione asked worriedly, self-consciously touching it. "I didn't know what to do with it."

Harry smiled, amused. "Trust me, Hermione. Every guy in the building is jealous of me right now."

Hermione cheeks turned pink. "You're quite handsome yourself, you know," she retorted in an attempt to embarrass him in return.

But he only smiled in return. "I'm flattered," he said, his eyes twinkling.

Hermione chuckled at that one as she hit another red. That was how their banter always went. Harry would make her blush by complimenting her, and when she attempted to do the same in return, he would always reply with a genuine, "I'm flattered," and those incredibly disarming, twinkling emerald eyes.

Those eyes were just as dangerous when they were kissing, too.

"I hope you don't mind what I'm about to do, Hermione," Harry said as they stood in front of the door to her house, Harry's car parked next to the curb. They were just wrapping up their third date, in which Harry took her out to a quiet, secluded park for a blissful picnic. "I'm going to do it either way."

Hermione frowned. "Do what?" she asked, confused.

The next thing she knew, Harry's face was incredibly close to hers, making her let out a squeaked, "Eep!"

She tried to put some distance between them at first to allow her brain some room to work, but it ended up working before she managed to do so.

He's going to kiss me.

Hermione stopped moving her head back and searched Harry's eyes with her own to find that she was correct. She also saw that Harry was a gentleman, though, and hadn't meant what he had said. He was waiting for her permission before he kissed her.

She wetted her lips just a tiny bit and leaned forward a little. Taking that as approval, which it was, Harry slowly leaned closer to her, his eyes still locked on hers.

Hermione tried her best to look away from his penetrating gaze, but found that they were somehow keeping her from doing so. His eyes, which she thought were completely green but were actually flecked with gold, wouldn't let her escape.

And then his lips brushed against hers and her eyes finally, instinctively fluttered closed as Harry pressed his lips against hers a little harder, truly turning their brushing lips into a kiss.

Hermione was confused and disoriented when Harry suddenly pulled back, his face a little flushed. He quickly turned to face the door and sheepishly smiled at Hermione's father, who was standing in the doorway looking disapprovingly at Harry.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Granger," Harry said, correctly guessing that it was Hermione's father who had answered the door. "Your daughter's just too beautiful for me to not kiss her."

Robert Granger's eyes narrowed. "I think it's best you get going. Don't you think so, young man?" he asked, though he didn't sound entirely angry. Maybe he was acting cold for the sake of the tradition of fathers being overprotective of their daughters?

"Yes sir," Harry said, inclining his head as he descended the three steps in front of Hermione's door, smiling at her as he did so. "Sorry for the trouble, sir."

Robert inclined his head back at Harry and ushered Hermione inside the house, where Hermione's mother was waiting with a giant smile on her face. "He's so handsome, sweetie," Helen Granger said. "Why didn't you tell us he was so cute?"

So that was why Robert had been a tad upset - Helen thought much along the same lines as Hermione in terms of Harry's looks.

Speaking of Hermione's father...

"Tell him he's coming over for dinner two nights from now," he grumbled, not sounding entirely pleased about it. "And make sure to tell him the flowers he's planning on presenting to your mother when he gets here better not be dead."

Hermione smiled again, now slowly driving through neighborhood streets. She hadn't told Harry the thing about the flowers, of course, thinking her father was just saying that because Hermione had told her parents the story of how they had met.

When he showed up, though, it turned out that he had brought flowers, which her mother had gratefully accepted, a vase already ready. "Such a gentleman," she had commented.

Things had started out rocky on account of her father, but Harry had managed to turn things around nicely, and by the end of the night Robert was saying that if he had had a son, he would have wanted him to be just like Harry.

He also gave Hermione his blessing to get married to Harry.

She and her mother had rolled their eyes in unison.

Things had really gone well between the two of them for a while. Then Harry told her something she would never forget.

"My parents are dead, Hermione," Harry said quietly. "That's why I keep changing the subject on you whenever you ask to meet them."

Hermione was frozen in her seat. They were sitting on a bench in a park, ice cream in their hands. It was the middle of August, meaning they had been going out for two months now.

"I'm so sorry!" she said. "I...I didn't..."

Harry quickly shook his head and waved her off. "It's not your fault," he said. "How would you have known?"

Hermione searched Harry's features, which seemed a tad...off. "You're right," she slowly said.

Harry sighed. "That's not all, Hermione," he said. "There's a lot you don't know about me."

Hermione weakly chuckled, apprehension twisting her stomach. "What can I possibly not know about you?"

Harry shrugged. "Oh, I don't know..." he said. "Maybe the fact that I'm a wizard?"

Hermione's jaw dropped. She had been expecting many terrible things that could have spelled the end of their relationship, but what he had said was certainly the last thing she would have thought of. "What?" was all she managed.

Harry proceeded to tell her his life story, starting with halloween night when he was one year old and how his parents were killed all the way to how he killed his parents' murderer in what he called 'The Battle for Hogwarts.'

"What an amazing story, Harry," Hermione said, for that's what she truly believed it was. "Maybe you should become an author," she said sarcastically.

"Hermione?" Harry said, confused.

"Look, Harry," Hermione said. "I understand your parents died and you're probably unwilling to share much about them with somebody you've only known for two months, but you should trust me enough to tell me the truth."

Harry swallowed. "Hermione...that is the truth," he slowly said. "The only reason I'm telling you the truth is because I think you trust me enough to believe it."

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Is that what is?" she said, then stood up. "I don't know what you take me for, Harry, but come around my place when you feel ready to be honest with me."

Harry stood up as Hermione walked away, swiping at the angry tears in her eyes, and she stopped when she heard Harry quietly say, "Expecto Patronum."

Hermione turned around to ask Harry what he meant by that, but all words were snatched from her mouth the second she saw the giant, transparent stag standing at Harry's side. Harry was holding what Hermione assumed to be his wand in his hand. He pointed it at the ground and said, "Accio Rose."

A single, blood-red rose floated up to Harry's hand, and he caught it and carefully took the thorns out of the stem. He walked up to Hermione, who was frozen in shock, and tucked the flower above her ear.

"Harry?" Hermione said in a shaky voice. "How...how is this possible?"

"Hermione..." Harry said, gently bringing a hand up to her cheek. "I love you. I love you so much. Please tell me you can say the same now that you know the truth about me."

"Harry..." Hermione said softly, her eyes searching his vulnerable face for what she should say. When she realized she would need to snap out of her funk and think for herself, she took a second to mull what he said over.

He could do magic. Magic existed. It existed in this very world and had existed this entire time. Harry was magical. Did that mean he was different? That their time together was a lie?

"No," Hermione said quietly as a way to answer her own question.

Harry's hand dropped from her cheek and she looked up to find a defeated look on his face. "I..." he said. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I..."

Realizing what she had done, Hermione quickly said, "No no no, Harry, that's not what I meant. I was answering a question I mentally asked myself." Harry looked down at her with a tiny glimmer of hope in his eyes. "Of course I love you, Harry. I love you even more now that I think about how much you must trust me to tell me all of this."

Harry laughed an incredibly relieved laugh. "Thank Merlin," he said, staggering back to sit on the bench. "You don't know how afraid I was that you would think I was some sort of freak."

Hermione marched up to Harry with determination burning throughout her body and sat directly on his lap, her cheeks red. Harry froze up before relaxing and wrapping an arm around her waist, pulling her even closer to him, their ice creams sitting forgotten on the bench next to them. Hermione smiled and snuggled closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder.

Honestly, the reason Hermione had done this was that she didn't know what to say without it being cheesy or cliche, so she figured this would have to do.

Hermione sighed wistfully as she pulled onto the street her house was located. That last summer had been the best of her life.

It was too bad all good things had to come to an end.

"So this is it, huh?" Hermione asked, looking up at Harry as her teeth chattered on their walk back to her house. They had gone out for one more date - a stroll around the neighborhoods surrounding Hermione's house - before Harry had to go back to school, and the weather had turned unexpectedly cold rather quickly.

Harry sighed. "It's just for ten months," he said in a sad attempt at optimism.

Hermione's lips began trembling. "Can you write?" she whispered, unable to find her voice.

Harry smiled down at her, though it was a sad smile. "Of course I can. You can finally meet Hedwig that way, too," he said.

Noticing her shivering, he took off his jacket and draped it around her shoulders. Thankful for the warmth (and Harry's soothing scent), Hermione pulled the jacket tight around her body.

"Thanks," she said quietly.

They walked in silence for a few minutes before Harry softly asked, "You warm yet, love?"

"Very," she replied, though it couldn't have been farther from the truth. For though her body was warm, icy dread was gripping heart. Harry was a very good-looking young man. Was he still going to love her after another year at his school?

"You really shouldn't sell yourself short like that," Harry said, putting an arm over her shoulders.

"What?" she asked, looking up at him, surprised to find tears pooled in her eyes.

Harry sighed and stopped, hugging her close to him. Hermione hugged him back, gripping his shirt with something akin to desperation, her tears finally spilling over. How was she going to make it without seeing him for ten months?

"I love you, Hermione Granger," he said. "I love you more than I even knew I could love. So don't you worry about me secretly eloping with some girl at school. I'm more worried about some guy here growing a brain cell and realizing how lucky he would be to have you."

"It would be bad for that some guy," Hermione said into his shirt. "He would have to experience how it feels to be rejected. Because I love you too, Harry. And I'll be waiting for you right here. I promise."

"You have to smile for me, Hermione," Harry said after over a minute of silence. "What I want to see the most before I go is a genuine smile from you. I don't want my last image of you to be you crying. What good is that?"

"Tell me you love me," she mumbled into his chest. "I want to hear it again."

"Hermione, I love you," Harry whispered in her ear. "I love you so much."

Hermione shook her head as she parked her car, her heart heavy at the memory. She wondered how much longer it would be before she could see him again. Distance had definitely made the heart grow fonder, and she found herself missing him more and more with every day that passed.

Hermione grabbed her bag and walked up to the door of her house. She opened the door and...

"Happy graduation!" her parents shouted, setting off a pair of handheld popper fireworks.

Tiny streamers popped into the air and landed right in Hermione's hair, making her smile. She had completely forgotten that she had just completed her last day of high school.

"I did it, didn't I?" she said excitedly.

"And we got you a gift!" Helen said. "It's upstairs in your room!"

Hermione went over to the stairs and, after noticing that her parents were still standing in front of the door, still smiling at her, she asked, "Aren't you guys coming?"

Her parents shook their heads in unison. "I think this is a gift you'll appreciate much more without us there," Helen said, shooing her upstairs.

Hermione racked her brain trying to think of what the gift could possibly be if it was better that her parents weren't there. Giving up as she reached her door, she excitedly pulled it open, a smile on her face.

"Hello," her gift said, a sheepish smile on his face. "Happy graduation!"

Hermione giggled, covering her mouth with her hand. Harry was sitting on the edge of her bed, a bow perched atop his head. "Your parents wanted to wrap me up in wrapping paper, but I wasn't having it."

Hermione slowly walked up to Harry and stopped in front of him. "This isn't a dream, is it?" she numbly asked, still in disbelief. "You're really here?"

Harry arched an eyebrow at her. "Only one way to find out, isn't there?"

Hermione tucked a few stray strands of hair behind her ear and leaned down to gently press her lips against Harry's, melting into him so he had to catch her when reality hit her. Hermione flung her arms around his neck and kissed him again, refusing to let go.

Harry kissed her back just as needily, though, her absence from his life seemingly just as painful as it was for Hermione.

"I missed you," Hermione breathed, pulling back to notice that she was straddling her boyfriend's lap.

Neither of them really minded, though, despite Harry's hands being planted firmly just below the the swell of her buttocks, making Hermione's hamstrings tingle. "I love you," Harry replied.

"I love you too," Hermione said back, her nose brushing his as she leaned in for another kiss.

It looked like this summer was going to be even better than the last.

A/N: So the breaking the magic scene was initially going to be used for 'Come Back to Me,' my work in progress, but it just didn't fit right for me. So I decided to build a whole one-shot around it (which I cranked out in three hours)! ^ ^

I hope you enjoyed it!