A/N: Yes, this is NOT Summer Changes. I dunno what I'm going to do with that story. I don't really know where to go with it. Any recommendations for that would be much appreciated. Anyway, I'm about to have a month long break from school, so I'm going to be able to devote a lot of time to this. Chapter 2 is almost done, so I need y'all's thoughts on this little plot bunny. I'm not quite sure where this is going to go, but I have a pretty good idea for now, so we'll just roll with it. I'm going to try to go for longer chapters. Anyway, here's the story, and leave a review so I can know what you think of it. Thanks!
Disclaimer: I don't own any of this stuff. Otherwise Harry and Hermione totally would've kissed in the new movie. SPOILER ALERT: They don't.
CHAPTER 1
Hermione Granger did not enjoy animals. It's not that she disliked them, after all, she had Crookshanks, but animals were always just so... happy. If there was one thing Hermione couldn't stand, it was perpetually happy and stupid things. Dogs were of this variety.
If she was honest with herself, Hermione would admit that having a loyal companion and all that jazz was an appealing aspect of dogs. However, their happiness was of such a naive nature that she couldn't stand the innocent look on their stupid little furry faces. Who could? Why should they get to be happy while everyone else in the world has to deal with sadness and anger and disappointment?
That's why Hermione liked cats. They were clean, they were never overly happy to see you, and they were very depressing and somewhat conniving creatures - just her type of animal. She liked independent things. Things that could take care of themselves. Maybe that could even take care of her.
Perhaps that was what attracted her to Harry Potter in the first place. Even as an 11-almost-12-year-old Hermione could tell there was something different about this gangly boy with the beautiful eyes and extremely round glasses. He seemed world-weary. Morose. Serious. As if he'd already seen it all. She didn't know it then, but the moment she met this boy was the moment Hermione Granger began to fall in love with Harry Potter.
But that's not the story we're going to explore. No, that story has already happened. Instead, we're going to journey into a different story. The story of how Harry Potter began to fall in love with Hermione Granger.
/HHR/
"Hermione, what are you thinking about?" a baritone voice resounded above my head. I snapped out of my trance and looked up, meeting the breath-taking eyes of my best friend and unrequited love: Harry Potter.
"I was just thinking about our first year. When we met on the train." I started fiddling with the pillow in my lap in order to hide my blush. Darn him and his stupid attractiveness.
I didn't look up as he walked around the couch I was lounging on and managed to maintain my composure as I felt his weight sink into the couch next to me, which forced me to lean closer to him. You would think after almost ten years of this I would be able to control my reactions to him a little better. Curse you, overenthusiastic capillaries.
I was brought from my thoughts again as I recognized Harry's familiar timbre resounding beside me. Apparently he'd been talking for while.
"- and Ron was being an idiot again so I just told him to sod off and decided to come out here and find you." I looked into his face then. His eyes were so expressive. His eyelashes were so long. Why do guys always get the beautiful eyes and eyelashes that they don't even appreciate?
We were sitting in the living room of Ron and Harry's shared flat. I lived in a flat across town, because I wanted to get out on my own and see what it was like to be an individual instead of one-third of a trio. It was very boring. I found myself increasingly over at their place rather than not.
Harry and I were both in Healer training while Ron trained for his regional Quidditch team. The London Cauldrons or something like that. He wanted to go immediately to the Chudley Cannons, but they weren't hiring at the moment, so Ron decided to play with this smaller team until an opening would appear as well as to hone his abilities. That would probably take a while. It had already taken almost three years.
I was actually rather surprised when Harry revealed he wanted to go into Healer training with me if we won the war. His Potions OWL hadn't been satisfactory for beginning to study being a Healer our sixth year. However, one year on the road with me and he was much improved in the Potions department. He was near my proficiency without Snape looming over him.
Harry and I had discussed our respective career choices while in the tent and on the run when Ron was gone. It gave us hope for the future. Something to work for. Harry said he had wanted to be an Auror, but after all this time of hunting and fighting dark wizards he didn't think he would have the mental strength to combat the memories. We started talking about Healing. Harry does have a saving-people-thing, after all, and the idea that he could heal people rather than be the one receiving the healing was an attractive one.
Once we won the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry's goals were set. He and I would go into Healer training together to help each other. Maybe even work together someday. I wasn't sure if I could handle his proximity all the time, but I have actually surprised myself with my self-control. My cheeks still heat up when he's around, but that's only when he gives me one of his Harry Potter stares or surprises me. Much as he had when he came from the private half of the flat.
Speaking of which; "Hermione, you're thinking again." Harry stated. It wasn't a question. I tore my gaze from the stitching on the pillow and met his eyes.
"Sorry, I've just been feeling rather nostalgic lately. You always seem to bring the memories out of me." I fingered my scar on my collarbone, which my tank top left open to my touch. It was uncomfortably warm in the flat, as Harry insisted there be a roaring fire in the fireplace, even in the middle of May as it was now. I guess it reminds him of home.
Sadness pierced his gaze as he noticed my movements. The guilt was palpable in his eyes. "Have I apologized for that today?" he asked rather miserably, raw emotion lacing his tone.
"Only about five hundred times." I teased gently, smiling a little. Harry always considered himself responsible for the injuries I had sustained all throughout that last year fighting Voldemort. Particularly this one.
I gazed around the body-strewn battlefield, my eyes searching for the one body I prayed I wouldn't find. This body suddenly burst into my vision sprinting from a copse of trees on the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
"HERMIONE, LOOK OUT!" Harry shouted as he ran toward me, his eyes expressing all the panic his tone conveyed and more. I spun around just in time to see the sickly yellow hex speeding toward me. Harry tackled me just as it was about to hit me, forcing me to turn my body so the curse - a dismembering hex - glanced off my collarbone, lancing the flesh and shattering the bone.
All I could feel was the pain as his body landed on mine. I couldn't help it. I screamed as loud as I fathomably could, my back arching in pain. While it wasn't the encompassing pain of the Cruciatus curse, it still hurt more than anything I'd ever felt before. The tears coursed down my face as Harry deftly rolled off my body, trying to move me as little as possible. I hardly even noticed when he stunned the Death Eater in a rage. I'm pretty sure he killed the man.
He looked horrified as he noticed the wound just below my throat, on the right side of my torso."Hermione, are you hurt?" he asked rather stupidly. I tried to tell him to go on without me, but I made eye contact with him and instantly regretted it, unable to keep the agony out of my eyes.
He seemed to understand and immediately fetched his wand from somewhere on my left side, it having fallen from his hand as he landed with me. "Hermione, this will probably hurt, and I can't guarantee the bones will mend properly. You know I'm pants at this." he murmured none-too-reassuringly.
"Just do it," I ground out, not really caring if I would be disfigured for life, just wanting the pain to go away.
"Alright, Hermione, stay very still, and I'll help you. I'll do anything I can to make you well again." His eyes met mine, and that was the last sight I comprehended before descending into darkness and pain.
When I awoke minutes later during the battle, I discovered my chest to be completely healed excepted a long, uneven, and jagged scar that stretched from the middle of my collarbone to my right shoulder. Harry considered himself responsible for his inability to completely heal me, but I didn't blame him. He was a seventeen year old kid with his only healing experience being exercises with me. Neither of us was willing to break one of our bones, so we had only talked of healing those kind of injuries theoretically.
My arm was fully healed and retained its motor function very well. Sometimes my arm would be rather stiff when I awoke, and it was rather sensitive to the touch, but that was nothing a warm shower wouldn't fix. Harry still hated himself for not being able to help me when he felt like he should've been able to. But he didn't understand that he had saved me in more ways than he could possibly have imagined.
I once again returned to the present to find Harry staring at me intently. I blushed uncomfortably, tempted to ask what he was looking at when he suddenly came out of his trance and broke his gaze from my face, staring into the fire.
"Hermione, do you regret anything?" he asked me rather abruptly, his eyes piercing mine. Curse him.
"No, I don't think I do." I replied, giving it some thought. "Given how everything turned out, I'm rather satisfied with our present." I gave him a small smile as he returned his gaze to the fire.
"Even though so many people died?" he asked softly, in a small voice. His "Hermione Voice" I liked to call it. I sighed a little, my smile turning to a frown as I thought of all those we had lost. No, who had been taken.
"Harry, you can't blame yourself for her death." I said carefully, knowing he was thinking of one loss in particular.
As if losing Fred wasn't enough, Mrs. Weasley also had to cope with the death of her only daughter. Ginny had stayed in the Room of Requirement, our base of operations during the Final Battle. Death Eaters had come through the corridor. Instead of staying in the Room or waiting for backup, Ginny decided she needed to attack them before they attacked her or jeopardized our command center. She put up a good fight until she was thrown into a suit of armor that was holding an axe. The axe fell and severed the main artery in her leg. She bled out before any proper medical attention could be given to her. We had come into the castle at that time, and she died with Harry running up to her and holding her hand.
I'm sure watching your girlfriend die probably wasn't Harry's fondest memory that he could think of. While it had been three years, the pain was still fresh behind those ever-revealing eyes. He hadn't even considered dating in the interim, despite there being no shortage of willing witches. But it seemed as if he threw himself even more into healing because of it. It was as if he felt he could save her if he saved everyone else. It was rather sweet.
I was grateful in a way, but also depressed. While I didn't have to put up with Harry seeing other women, "Yet," I reminded myself, I did have to deal with his grief, which only amplified my own. Ginny was my dearest girl friend, and while Luna was a great friend and support, I still found myself missing Ginny's refreshingly spunky personality and witticisms.
Harry met my eyes and acknowledged my statement. "I know," he said softly. "But it just hurts so much to know that she died because of me. Because I had to drag her into the fight."
"Harry, how could you possibly expect that Death Eaters would break into the castle and almost find the Room of Requirement? That was the safest place you could have put her short of another country," I admonished him gently, knowing he became explosive whilst in the midst of his self-loathing.
He stared me down, and then it was as if a door shut behind his eyes. The vulnerability that shone there minutes before was gone, replaced by a determined, stalwart resolve. "Well, aren't we a pair of mopes tonight?" he teased, grinning a little as he ruffled my hair. "How about we go make dinner before Ron comes out here and empties the place of every edible and inedible substance?" I nodded enthusiastically and leapt off the couch, rushing to the kitchen.
Harry had demanded his and Ron's flat have a kitchen, his desire to cook his own meals not only a symptom of paranoia but also a simple wish to do things himself. "Constant vigilance!" he had reminded me when he made this stipulation.
We now both burst into the kitchen, eager to cook together. This was a ritual we had started years ago that took place about two or three times a week. We both loved to cook, and given the proper ingredients (rather than our meager rations while we were searching for Horcruxes), I could make some rather tasty dishes if I did say so myself.
"So what will we make tonight?" I asked enthusiastically, not reluctant to leave the miserable memories behind in the sitting room.
"How about spaghetti?" Harry replied with just as much energy. He looked so much younger when he smiled like that. Like a normal 20 year old rather than a man who had fought in a war and killed another man before he was even 18. I smiled and nodded, my hair shaking with my motion. Harry grinned and began to get the pasta, seasonings, and sauce out of the pantry while I fetched the ground beef, pan, and pot.
Harry gave me the garlic when I pulled out a knife and cutting board. He filled the pot with water and I smashed the garlic by pressing it with the knife with the heel of my hand. The skin came off and I began to mince the garlic into little pieces and Harry set the water to boil. At first we were all business, but it didn't take long for Harry to get bored waiting for the water to boil and decide to bother me rather than brown the ground beef.
"Poke," he murmured as he prodded my belly. I jumped nearly a foot in the air because I had been concentrating on the recipe we had open on the counter.
"Harry James Potter!" I exclaimed. "I have said time and again that you are not allowed to poke me when sharp objects are nearby! This includes knives!" I placed my hands menacingly on my hips and gave him my best glare, cocking one of my hips to the side.
Harry smiled innocently. "But 'Mione I was just-"
"Don't you 'But 'Mione' me. You know I don't like when you and Ron shorten my name." In truth, I really loved it when Harry called me that. Ron called me "Hermy" and other God-awful nicknames, but never 'Mione. That was only Harry.
He continued to grin like a Cheshire Cat, his eyes laughing at me. Lord, I hated how attractive he was. Why couldn't he be ugly so at least other women wouldn't flirt with him all the time?
Visions of him pinning me to counter and kissing me ferociously danced through my mind, but I valiantly fought them off. This was neither the time nor the place. There was never a time or place for my fantasies about Harry. Not even the safety of my own flat.
"Hermione, you okay? You look kinda pink." Harry said, concern etched in his expression.
I blushed even more and shook my head. "It's just kinda warm with that boiling water going." I murmured, avoiding his gaze and turning to the ground beef, ripping the packaging with more ferocity than intended. Juice from the meat speckled the granite countertop and my shirt. "Great." I muttered despondently.
"Here, let me." Harry said from behind me, wetting a towel and coming around to my other side. He blotted the shirt, which really was not helping me ignore the fact that he was in the room, much less that he was somewhat sweaty from the heat in the flat, making his shirt cling to his back as he bent to the floor and wiped up some of the spilled liquid.
"Curse you, t-shirt company!" I growled in my mind. "Why must you make your shirts so bloody tight across the back?" More curses were heaped on the t-shirt company as Harry arose from the floor and stretched his arms behind his back, making the shirt tighten across his chest. "Jiminy Cricket, Harry Potter has got a body!" I found myself thinking. No, these were not safe thoughts. "Think of something else, Hermione. Think of Ron in the shower." My face involuntarily contorted into a look of disgust. "Maybe not that far."
Harry now leaned closer to my face, making eye contact. "Are you sure you're alright, Hermione?" he asked, his voice seeming to shake me to the core.
"I've got to get out of here," I thought. "I can't possibly stay in this room with him and so many surfaces to pin him against!" "Uh, actually, Harry, I think I am feeling kind of sick. I'll just take the tube home and rest."
"Are you sure, Hermione?" Harry asked. "I can go with you if you want, or you can stay here and I can take care of you." Images of Harry playing "Doctor" for me tickled my brain.
"No, Harry, I'd much rather go back to my place and make myself a Pepper Up potion and just go to bed. Thank you, though." I started to edge my way out of the small kitchen.
"Are you sure you don't want me to go with you? Why don't you Apparate?" Lord, couldn't he just let me leave?
"Uh, n-no I'll just walk to the tube. I think Apparating might tire me out too much." I was nearly to the door.
"Apparating would take more energy than walking to the tube?" Harry asked skeptically, his eyes broadcasting his disbelief.
"Uh, I dunno. I'm just gonna go now. Bye, Harry!" I stumbled over all of this in a rush, trying to get the words out and escape. I was rushing out the door when I heard a voice behind me.
"Wait!" Harry called, catching up to me with his long strides. He suddenly pulled me into a hug, my face on his shoulder, as we were about the same height. I was tall for a girl and he was rather average for a man. "Feel better soon, 'Mione," he murmured into my ear and pulled away. Doesn't he know the effect he has on me?
"Y-yeah, you too, Harry." He looked at me confused as I grabbed my cardigan off the couch and my bag, walking briskly toward the door. "You too, Harry?" I asked myself. "Yeah, that was smooth." Overcoming the almost overwhelming urge to face-palm, I put my arms through my cardigan, flipping my hair over the neck. I left the building and started walking towards the nearest tube station, deciding to cut through a park in the process.
As I was crossing the park in the midst of berating myself, I thought I heard footsteps behind me, but when I looked around I didn't see anyone. "That's odd." I thought, searching the area, "Constant vigilance." I slipped my wand out of my wrist holster and kept walking, pepper spray in the other hand. You never know when these Muggle devices will come in handy.
"Why, Miss Granger, we weren't expecting the delight of your company this evening." a voice sounded, startlingly close. I searched the nearby trees, but could detect no signs of life. I still put up my shield anyway, not really knowing which direction the voice came from. I realized belatedly I had chosen a rather woody and large park to cut through. It looked much tamer from the street.
"You see, we thought that maybe we would encounter Mr. Weasley or maybe even Mr. Potter himself, but never their little pet. We thought you were too smart to walk alone at night. I suppose not." I could almost hear the smirk in the person's voice.
Suddenly, a woman stepped out from the trees directly in front of me. She was stunningly beautiful with a chin length bob of wild and blond curly hair, full lips, and bright purple eyes. She was tall and slim, taller than me, and had a commanding presence that I felt to my heart. Her voice was a sultry, deep alto. I honestly had been expecting a man. "Maybe there are some men around" I thought, panic starting to grip me. "She did say we after all."
"Tut tut, Miss Granger, how rude." The woman smiled. But it wasn't a human smile. It was a bestial smile. The type of smile a cat has when it catches the canary. "That makes me the canary." I recognized she was wearing a green cloak. Brilliant, a witch. This situation was just getting better and better. "You know you should respond when someone greets you on the street. Didn't your Muggle parents teach you anything?" She smiled again.
"Yes, they taught me not to talk to strangers, so if you'll excuse me I'll just be on my way now." The woman smiled and reached out a hand to bar my path.
"Now, Miss Granger, we're not through with you yet." she said threateningly. "We just wanted to have a little chat with you before letting you get on your way."
"You're one to talk, calling me rude! You know my name, but I have no knowledge of yours. And are you schizophrenic or something? What's with the 'we' stuff?" She seemed to find some humor in that statement because she laughed liltingly, her voice echoing hollowly back from the trees.
"A spunky one you are!" she replied in a somewhat satisfied tone. "You may call me Eloise." she quietly answered. "But I doubt that will give you much help." She suddenly touched my collarbone with her long nail, as the neck of my cardigan was open, making me gasp. It felt like a knife. "Now, Hermione, why don't you just play nice and let us get this over with quickly." She turned her head slightly to the left, blond curls tossing in a slight breeze. "Hand me my wand, Laertes." A man stepped forward from the shadows.
Laertes, as she called him, also was tall, but broad. Even broader than Harry. He obviously wasn't the brains of the outfit, but there was a cunning in his eyes I didn't trust. He had brown hair and eyes like mine, but while mine were whiskey colored, his were the color of dark chocolate or a chocolate cake. They seemed to x-ray me for a moment, and then he turned to the woman - Eloise - and gave her a wand from the depths of his cloak.
"We must do this quickly, Laertes. Keep a lookout." I didn't know why I hadn't moved at this point, but I found myself quite unable to function. "Do I have time to spray her with my pepper spray and get away?" I started to raise my left hand, but Eloise immediately snapped her eyes back to mine. "Hermione, Hermione, Hermione, you know better than that." she smirked menacingly and before I knew it both my pepper spray and my wand were in her hands, the result of an Accio or an Expelliarmus, no doubt. "This may sting a little, but you should be used to pain."
My eyes widened in comprehension as she raised her wand. She was going to curse me. "Have fun, Hermione." She smiled that cold smile again. "I'm sure you'll enjoy this predicament." She winked at me and then mumbled something I could not possibly understand. And then I was unconscious.
/HHR/
When I came to, it was early morning, and I was still in the park. "That's odd." I thought, shaking my head slightly. I tried to rub my head, but my arm wouldn't reach. "I feel... different." I looked around, and discovered my vision was oddly distorted, many colors indistinguishable from others.. "What in the world is going on here?"
I sat up somewhat and found my center of gravity was off. "Why do I feel so weird? And why can I smell everything?" I looked around from the ground. I could very easily smell the homeless man sleeping on the bench across the path. "I've got to get out of here." I tried to stand, but I found I couldn't stand on two legs. I then looked down at my body.
"I'M A BLOODY IRISH SETTER!" I wanted to scream as I saw the fur everywhere, the paws, no clothes, and the claws. "This is not good. Not good." I could tell I was an Irish Setter from my approximate height and fur color. A lovely brownish red. I began to pace on all fours in panic.
"Alright, Hermione, don't worry. I'm sure Harry or Ron will notice you aren't in your flat and look for you. But how will you let them know you're a dog?" I stopped pacing for a moment and realized the homeless man was now awake and staring at me curiously. "Well, I can't stay here. I guess I'll have to head to their flat. At least their landlord allows dogs." I started to walk in the general direction of their flat.
"Now which way should I - SQUIRREL!" I saw the darting movement from the corner of my eye and was about to give chase when I realized exactly what was going on. "Did I just have the irresistible urge to chase a squirrel? I have got to get back to Harry and Ron now." I took off again, but then I smelled a very familiar cologne and heard a voice I knew too well giving a greeting to someone.
"HARRY!" I thought. "He'll be able to help me! Now I don't have to find their flat at least." I ran towards the sound of his footsteps. It was Saturday, so we had the day off for training. I burst into Harry's path just in time to trip him. He gave a very disruptive "Oof" as he struck the pavement. Whoops.
I started to apologize but realized I could only whine and bark. "Just great. I'm living out some kind of a cheesy eighties movie." I couldn't help thinking as Harry rubbed his head and looked at me.
"Well, hello, there..." he looked between my legs. "Girl." My mouth dropped open. Did Harry just look between my legs to ascertain my sex? I would have to get onto him about that at some point. "What's your name?" he continued, grabbing a collar I hadn't realized was around my neck. "Hermione. You know, one of my best friends is named Hermione." He smiled, but I couldn't help thinking, "Naw, duh, Sherlock."
"Where's your master? Is he around here somewhere?" There was quite obviously no one around except for another homeless man sleeping on a bench. London really needed to crack down on this homeless problem. "Why don't you go find him, Hermione? I'm sure he's looking for you." I rolled my eyes. As if he could get rid of me that easily.
Harry had stood up and dusted himself by this point. He started to walk away, so I, of course, trotted behind him. "No, Hermione, you have to go back to your home." I tilted my head like I had seen many dogs do before, letting my tongue loll to one side. Lord, I hate dogs.
"You do have a home, right?" he asked. I let out a whuff of irritation. Seriously, who talks to a dog this much? "Well there was no address on your ID. Maybe you should come stay with me until we can find out where you belong. I'm sure Ron wouldn't mind having a pet for a while. Hermione wouldn't like you - I'm sorry, but she hates dogs - but I'm sure she'll know what to do when she gets back from her trip." My ears perked up at this. "Trip? What trip?"
He filled in the answer for me. "I can't believe she left for a 6 week vacation in the Bahamas without even telling us first. You know, this will be longest I've gone without seeing her since summer vacation during school?" Now this was intriguing. Why was I supposedly going on a trip?
It suddenly dawned on me. Eloise. That... evil person! I had to get her to take this stupid spell off me so I could go back to my everyday life of pining for Harry and being depressed! I had my system all worked out!
"Come on, Hermione." Harry suddenly interrupted my thoughts. "You can come meet Ron. If he's awake." he snorted. He started to walk towards his flat building, and I followed close beside him. "You know, you're a really smart dog, Hermione. Red Setters are normally kind of stupid." I glared at him menacingly. "No offense." he added hastily. "Did I just apologize to a dog?" he continued, staring into space, not noticing the female jogger who passed him, eyeing his physique hungrily. That man was so oblivious.
"Here we are, Hermione. Home sweet home." he said as we reached the flat. "I'll go tell Mrs. Rowan that I have a stray dog later today when she wakes up." he added. He kicked open the door after unlocking it, letting me in and then following soon after.
"OK, so, that's the living room. My bedroom's through that door. The kitchen's through here... I doubt Ron will let you in his room, so you can sleep in my bed. Would you like that?" he squatted down towards me as he added that last bit. I nearly fainted straight away. "Boy, would I!" I thought enthusiastically, nodding my head, and letting my tongue loll some more.
Harry laughed. "You are a smart one!" he exclaimed, scratching my ears. "Of course, what female can resist the charms of the one and only Harry Potter?" he asked with a roguish wink, turning towards the kitchen as he did so.
"My, my. Dogs have a very nice angle for views of the human backside." I thought with a smirk. Harry was truly oblivious. I wouldn't worry about letting him know who I was at the moment. I didn't seem to be suffering any adverse effects from the spell, and I needed to find out what Eloise was up to before I tipped my hand.
Just at that moment, Ron stumbled from the hall to the boys' rooms, glaring at the bright morning light filtering in from the window. He stopped short. "Harry, why is there a dog in our living room?" Ron asked somewhat loudly with a yawn.
Harry stuck his head out from the kitchen. "Oh, her name's Hermione. I found her in the park without an owner or an address on her collar, so I decided I wanted to keep her here. You know, to keep her safe and whatnot." He returned to the kitchen only to emerge a moment later with a bowl of water and some carrots.
"Here you go, Hermione," he smiled, holding out a carrot. "Can you do any tricks?" I smiled inwardly. This would be fun. He dangled the carrot over my nose, and with a great bark I leapt into the air and onto Harry's chest, proceeding to lick his face thereafter. This may be the only chance I would have to pin Harry down and kiss him, and I wouldn't waste it!
"No, Hermione!" He laughed as Ron gave a great guffaw. "You can't just - haha - leap onto people - haha - and pin them down!" He continued his laughter as Ron also fell to the floor in hysterics. I finished smothering him with kisses and took the carrot from his hand, trotting over to the couch and curling up on one of the cushions, eyeing the two boys.
Ron finally got control of himself and started to stand up. "Harry, looks like she's got a bit of a crush on you!" he snickered as I glared at him in an affronted manner. He didn't to tell everyone about that!
"You're just jealous she likes me and not you." Harry sniffed as he also stood from the floor, recovering the strewn pieces of carrot and the empty bowl, a quick drying spell ridding the floor of water. Ron laughed again.
"She hasn't even gotten to meet me yet! She'll probably like me better than you once we're formally introduced." Ron said, straightening his shirt. He then started to walk over to me with his hand outstretched. "Oh, this is just too perfect." I snickered inwardly.
"Hey there, Hermione, I'm Ron. Would you like to sniff my hand?" I contemplated snapping at him but decided to go for the passive-aggressive response instead. I sniffed in derision and, having finished my carrot, leapt down from the couch and trotted back over to Harry, who immediately gave a bark of laughter.
"Yep, Ron, she finds you irresistible!" he exclaimed as he began to scratch my ears. I sighed in contentment and started panting, leaning into his touch. I could definitely get used to this.
"No, Hermione, you can't forget that you gotta find out what Eloise is up to." I thought to myself. But I was a dog! How in the ever loving world was I going to be able to snoop around as a dog? Maybe I could cast a spell that- "My wand!" I realized with horror. "Eloise has my bloody wand!" I then glared poisonously at the space in front of me (which happened to be occupied by Ron at that point) and started to growl.
Harry's laughter brought me out of my thoughts. "Maybe Hermione would like her after all!" he chortled as I realized I had seemingly been glaring, as well as growling, at Ron.
"Oh, ha ha." Ron replied sarcastically. "Aren't you clever? At least I actually have a girlfriend instead of a bloody dog." I glared at Ron. "What in the heck is your problem?" I shouted at him in my mind as Harry's face instantly sobered. Ron was such an idiot. Yes, we could go through a day without being constantly reminded of Ginny, but what about Harry? None of us knew how he felt.
My growls came back full force as Harry and Ron stared at each other a moment, Ron's expression changing to one of horror as he realized what he had just said. "No, Harry, I didn't mean it. I-"
"Save it." Harry ground out, his look morose as he disappeared into the kitchen. I heard thumping as the carrots landed at the bottom of the trashcan. Harry then reemerged, slipping on a light jacket as he did so. "I'm taking Hermione to the pet store to get supplies. I'll be back later." he said in a monotone, picking up his wallet and keys.
Ron looked at Harry with regret but decided to leave him be. "OK. I'm probably going over to Jenny's later." he said, wincing as he realized the similarity between his current girlfriend's name and his deceased sister's. I followed Harry to the door. "Harry, I-" but anything else Ron would've said was cut off by Harry slamming the door shut with a great bang.