Chapter 4

July 2001

"So...you and Harry, huh?"

This question was from Ginny. Hermione and Ginny were lying in the shade under a tree outside the Burrow, watching their friends play Quidditch above them. Everyone was celebrating Harry's birthday today, so there were more people here than usual.

Hermione had asked Ginny why she wasn't playing, but she explained that she flew all the time, and didn't mind the break. Plus, everyone always made her play positions she hated, like Beater or Keeper, to level the playing field.

"What?" Hermione sat up to look at her friend.

"I think we all saw the spread in Witch Weekly," Ginny replied absently. She was picking the petals off of a small, white flower.

"Oh, right," Hermione laid back down. "Sorry you had to find out that way, but yes, we're madly in love," she continued with extreme sarcasm. "It's been a wild ride with a lot of ups and downs, as I'm sure you've read, but we're going to try to make it work this time."

"You say that like you and Harry being together is ridiculous, but I don't know. I don't think it's as impossible as you think."

Hermione sat up again and narrowed her eyes at Ginny. Ginny dropped her flower and met her gaze. "What is wrong with you? This is Harry we're talking about. Just a few weeks ago you were still dating, and now - what? You want him to start dating someone else? You're a lot more mature than I am," Hermione added in an undertone.

Ginny waved her off. "Oh, no, if you two were really dating, I'd cut you. I'm just saying, it's not as preposterous as you make it sound. And you have been spending a lot of time together."

Hermione snorted before lying back down on the grass. "It's not like that."

They were both quiet. Harry appeared in the air above them and they both watched him for a few seconds before he zoomed away. Hermione was reminded of their visit to the Dursleys the week before and almost brought it up with Ginny but refrained. She'd talked about Harry with Ginny before, but now, it seemed wrong for some reason.

Hermione turned her to head to look at Ginny and saw her gazing off into the distance, her brown eyes unfocused. Hermione kicked her leg gently. "What's wrong? Are you doing okay?"

Ginny didn't reply for several moments, then she turned and said with a sigh, "My mum is really angry with me for breaking up with Harry. She's convinced it was all my fault."

Hermione scowled. She mostly loved Molly, but she could be real pain sometimes. "Whatever. It's not her business. Plus, it's not like Harry is out of the family," she waved her hand toward the spot in the air Harry had recently occupied.

Ginny sighed again and draped an arm over her face. "Yeah, you're right. I think she's just determined to be upset no matter what I do. I just need to stop trying to please her."

Hermione hadn't seen Ginny this down in a long time, and she had no idea where it was coming from. It seemed to be deeper than her breakup with Harry. "Tell me more." When Ginny didn't respond, Hermione nudged her leg again. "Come on, tell me what's on your mind. You can't just say something like that and clam up."

Ginny kept her arm over her face as she spoke. "She doesn't like who I am."

"I don't think that's true."

Ginny shook her head and said bitterly, "She hates that my career is so frivolous, which is rich, coming from her. She's mad about Harry, like I said, and when I mentioned recently that I was considering trying out for an international team, so I could travel for a few years, she flipped."

Ginny took her arm off of her face and shoved her palms into her eyes. "I don't know," she groaned. "I'm never going to be that stereotypical witch she wants me to be. Just interested in creating a big family, then devoting my whole life to them. And I - I don't know. I don't know how to tell her that and have her actually hear it."

Hermione didn't know where to start. Ginny had just unloaded quite a lot. She decided to side-step the Molly stuff, since she didn't think there was anything she'd be able to say to help there. Hermione shifted closer to Ginny and crossed her legs in front of her.

"You want to play internationally? You never told me that before."

"One of my teammates has been trying out for the past few months. The teams around here are really competitive, but in other countries, like Spain and Italy, it's a breeze for anyone playing professionally over here to get on those teams. And maybe they don't win very much, but they travel to all the same places."

Ginny's eyes were bright and it was clear this was something she really wanted to do. Her whole demeanor had changed since she'd started talking about it. "How fun would that be?"

She turned to Hermione, who couldn't help but smile back. Ginny's excitement was infectious.

"Traveling the world on someone else's sickle? All while playing Quidditch, my favorite sport, for work? It's like a dream, isn't it?"

Hermione nodded. "You should do it. Or at least try. It's clear you want to."

Ginny's expression darkened and all the enthusiasm from before was gone. Hermione knew she was thinking of Molly again. She grabbed Ginny's arm.

"No, really, just listen to me. Screw Molly and her outdated beliefs on what a witch ought to be like and what she should do with her life."

Ginny's eyes widened, then she bit her lip and waved to something behind Hermione. "Uh, hi Mum."

Hermione's heart dropped and she turned around slowly, but there was no one there. Ginny was laughing and Hermione pushed her over.

"Your face," Ginny was saying through her laughs.

"Hah hah," Hermione replied, rolling her eyes. "Anyway, shut up, I'm about to make a big speech."

"Yes, 'Screw Molly.' I think that's the part you were at."

Hermione smiled. "Okay, as I was saying - ignore your mum for a second. It's pretty hard, I know," she allowed when Ginny made a face.

"You only get one life, Ginny, and you have no idea how long it's going to last. We've all had to learn that the hard way." Ginny's eyes filled with tears and Hermione knew she was thinking of Fred. She placed her hand on Ginny's arm again.

"With the time you're given, you need to live as best you can. And I think the way you do that is by pursuing the thing that excites you. The thing that makes you want to get up each morning."

"Like - my life's passion?" Ginny asked skeptically.

Hermione shook her head. "No, nothing as daunting as that. I think calling it a 'life's passion' or 'one true purpose' puts too much pressure on us. I'm just talking about a - a - spark. I think yours is adventure. Discovering new things, pushing yourself out of your comfort zone.

"Mine is helping people and trying to make the world a little better than I found it. Harry's is as simple as loving deeply and being loved in return. Everyone has that thing that keeps them going. You figure out yours, and do it, and your mum will be just fine."

Ginny stopped to consider Hermione's words. They made so much sense. She'd never thought about it like that. Hermione had this way of taking complicated things and simplifying them down to one, clear point.

"Spark," Ginny tested the word on her tongue. Was her spark really adventure? She did love trying new things, and she'd had a dream to leave and travel the world since she was a young girl. She'd always thought it was just that - a dream - because she was too poor. But now...

"What's Ron's spark?" Ginny asked after a while.

Hermione chewed her lip as she considered. "You know what? I don't know. That may be why we aren't together. We never truly understood each other."

Ginny cocked an eyebrow at her. "But you know Harry's?"

Hermione shrugged and laid back down on the grass. "Well, we are lovers."

"Shag him, and I'll cut you."

Hermione smirked back at her. "Is it just shagging you have a problem with? Are we allowed to go on dates and snog a bit?"

Ginny picked up the pile of flowers she'd torn apart earlier and threw them at Hermione and Hermione burst into laughter. Ginny tried to maintain her harsh glare but was soon laughing alongside Hermione.

[Don't worry, Ginny won't cut anyone.]

Hermione was standing on the doorstep of Grimmauld Place as she chewed on the inside of her cheek. She'd never got Harry alone during his birthday celebration at the Burrow a few days ago, so she hadn't had a chance to give him his birthday gift - which was the type of gift that needed to be exchanged in private.

Today was his actual birthday, so it was still a good time for his "real gift," but now that she was here, she was considering nixing the entire idea. She also had a strange sense that her stopping by unannounced was weird. Why did she think that? He always came around to her flat. And this was Harry, not some random acquaintance.

She lifted her hand to knock, then held it there for a few moments as her mind continued to race. She jumped when she heard a knock from the other side. The next second, the door opened to reveal a laughing Harry.

"What - ? I - " Hermione looked around her. She was confused about what had just happened.

Harry stepped past her and traced a spot on the doorstep with his toe. "The protective wards on the house start here. You broke them, I came to investigate, then got to watch you fidget around for a few moments as you clearly struggled with the decision of whether or not to knock."

His expression turned serious and he looked around, then cocked his head toward the inside of the house. "Let's go inside, then you can tell me what's wrong."

Hermione followed Harry into the hall. As he closed the door and locked it with a quick spell, he asked, "What happened?"

Hermione didn't answer his question. She was distracted by voices and music from the other room. But they sounded strange. Was he having a party? And he hadn't invited her? That hurt. Just then, a shrill laugh cut through the silence and she realized what she was hearing. It was the television, and that laugh belonged to Teddy. She swore and turned to face Harry.

"You have Teddy tonight. I didn't mean to interrupt, I just, uh, have a birthday gift for you, but I can give it to you later."

She turned to leave but he grabbed her arm. "He's captivated by that movie. You can give it to me now."

Harry dropped her arm and walked to the sitting room at the end of the hall. He popped his head into the room and confirmed Teddy was still on the couch, mesmerized by the television, before going back to join Hermione. She was leaning against the wall that used to hold the portrait of Sirius's mother, biting her lip and looking extremely nervous. Harry was officially intrigued.

He leaned on the wall opposite her and nudged her shoe with his foot. "Hi."

She gave him an apprehensive smile. "Hi. Uh - Happy Birthday."

Harry nodded, and was very confused about what was going on. "Um, you already got me a gift," he pointed out, thinking of the book on advanced disguising spells she'd gifted him at the Burrow this past weekend.

She waved her hand. "Yeah, everyone expects me to give people books. That's not the real gift, but now, I'm rethinking my gift and kind of want to leave and forget this all happened."

Harry crossed his arms and smiled. "Now you have to give it to me. I won't let you leave here until you do."

Hermione muttered something under her breath, then reached into her pocket and pulled out a blank envelope. She shoved it at Harry before resuming her spot on the wall.

Harry slipped his thumb under the seal, then pulled out a card that read:

hjpotter@yahoo . com / Ph0enix98

"What am I looking at? An email address?"

"And a password," Hermione added.

"Okay…"

Hermione sighed, then started talking in a rush. "I created that address for you to use to talk to your cousin. You said you wanted to stay in touch but couldn't picture what that would look like. And I got thinking that I have this cousin that I don't really get on with - but I know it's different, since there's no trauma there - but still - we've had success keeping up with each other with e-mail. It's a very nonthreatening form of communication. No awkward pauses on the phone or painful lunches, and you can review the words in your message multiple times before pressing send."

Harry was looking down at the card with an unreadable expression. Hermione didn't know what it meant, so she just kept talking.

"I know your office has computers to keep tabs on issues in the Muggle world, and I have one at my flat, too. And - and - I know I overstepped again, but I thought this was the sort of thing you wanted to do but wouldn't actually do without some sort of nudge. If you turn that over, you'll see his email. And I considered reaching out to him, but didn't, since that - I know - would have been too much."

Harry turned the card over and his eyes widened.

"You can burn the card right now and I wouldn't be offended."

Harry shook his head. "How did you get Dudley's email?"

Hermione shrugged. "He mentioned the University he attends. I went there, cornered one of the admins and then - well, then I broke a few laws, so it's probably best if you don't know."

Harry's expression was incredulous. Hermione was unsure if that was a good or bad thing.

"You did all that?" he asked, looking back at the card.

Hermione nodded.

"I - okay." Harry pocketed the card. "I'll think about it."

"You're not angry with me?" Hermione asked carefully, keeping her eyes on the wood floor.

"I am not angry with you." Harry nudged Hermione's foot again.

Her head snapped up and she could tell by Harry's warm smile that he meant it. She let out a sigh of relief. "Okay, great." She turned to the door, but when she had her hand on the knob, he called her back.

"Stay. You're already here."

"But you have Teddy."

"We had a whole afternoon together and now he's just watching this dumb movie as he struggles to keep his eyes open. You can come keep me company and tell me which laws you broke to get that email address."

Hermione had work to do, but something in Harry's tone made her stay. He seemed to be looking for more than just someone to keep him company during the kids' movie, and it was his birthday, after all. "Okay."

When she walked in the sitting room, Teddy's face lit up and he insisted on sitting on her lap. Once he'd settled in and started watching the movie again, Hermione could feel him go limp, then snap awake. Harry was right, he was trying with all his might to stay awake so he could finish the movie.

"What did you do to this kid?" she whispered to Harry. "I've never seen him without loads of energy."

Harry shot Teddy a loving smile before focusing back on Hermione. "I got off work a few hours early and took him to the zoo. He was running from one exhibit to the next, so excited to see every animal."

"Really?" Her memories of the zoo weren't that exciting. The animals usually slept. She wondered what Teddy, someone who was used to seeing magic daily, had found so exciting about the zoo.

Harry was smirking and proceeded to answer her unspoken question. "Well, I may or may not have prodded a few of the animals into dancing."

Hermione hit him playfully. "Harry!"

"Oh, you should talk, Miss 'I broke a few laws for a birthday gift.'" Harry smiled at her again, but she noticed this time it didn't reach his eyes. She wanted to ask him more, but just then, Teddy shushed them and demanded they focus on the movie.

Within fifteen minutes, Teddy lost his battle with sleep. Harry muted the telly, then scooped him up and took him upstairs. When Harry returned, he stopped in the doorway of the sitting room and watched the pictures flash on the television.

The reflection from the screen was playing across his glasses so Hermione couldn't see his eyes. Though she could tell by his stance and the set of his jaw that something was wrong.

She picked up the remote and turned off the television, then turned to Harry, who was still staring distantly toward the set, not registering that it was off now. "I'm so sorry, Harry. I didn't mean to make you sad with my gift. Especially not on your birthday. I wish I could take it back."

Harry stayed still, and she thought maybe he hadn't heard her. Then he sighed and went to sit next to her on the couch. "That's not why I'm sad."

Harry was a little surprised he was admitting to this. A few weeks ago, he would have plastered a smile on his face, then insisted there was nothing wrong with him. But now he didn't want to hide from Hermione. He wondered when that had happened. Probably sometime during their broomstick ride between Surrey and London.

"Why are you sad, Harry?" she asked in a soft voice.

Harry kept his gaze down on their legs, which were an inch away from touching. As he considered the question, he watched her nudge her leg into his.

"There was an article about me in the Prophet today," he answered, talking down to their knees. "Did you see it?"

Hermione shook her head. She typically read the Prophet cover to cover each morning over breakfast. But today, when she'd reached the spread about Harry that they always included on his birthday, she'd skipped it.

"I saw the photos, but passed over the article, since I doubted there'd be anything there I didn't already know," she explained.

"There were things in there you didn't know," he said darkly. "Nothing true, though."

Hermione turned to face Harry, lifting one of her legs up onto the couch. She waited for him to look up at her before saying, "Tell me."

"Most of it was fine. The usual stuff. But there was this line - it stuck with me all day: 'The war is won, evil has been eradicated, and Harry Potter is at the top of his game.'"

Harry looked down again and began tracing patterns on the leg Hermione had folded in front of her. "You didn't like that line," she pressed, trying to get him to keep talking.

"No, I didn't," he said, still moving his finger along her calf.

She waited patiently until he eventually kept talking. His voice was just above a whisper and she had to strain her ears to understand him. "The war is won, the worst of the evil is gone, but I'm still bleeding, Hermione." When he lifted his eyes, they were rimmed with tears.

Hermione grabbed Harry's hand, the one that had been caressing her leg, and covered it with both of hers. "I know, Harry," she whispered back.

Harry nodded. He didn't know what was going on with him. He'd thought all that crap from the war was behind him, but something about his breakup with Ginny had dredged it all up. He thought it was being alone, again - that had always been a trigger for him. But if he was being completely honest with himself, he hadn't actually dealt with any of that trauma. He'd only buried it away and become really good at pretending.

He should probably go back to meeting with a mind healer, though that thought made him sick. He tried to push it to the back of his brain and focus on the feeling of Hermione's warm hands instead. This was nice, having someone else know that he wasn't doing as well as everyone thought.

As Harry considered Hermione, he thought that she was better than any of the healers he'd ever seen. Look what she'd done with the Dursleys. That issue had been this giant, unresolved mess eating away at him, and while it still wasn't fixed, he finally had a plan about what to do there.

He could stop seeing his aunt and uncle altogether, then talk to Dudley, the only Dursley he was interested in maintaining contact with. Hermione had given him that idea, and she'd also given him the means to do so.

This was something he'd always missed from all the healers - practical advice. They had focused on helping him recognize his feelings, which had been a good skill to learn, but he knew how to do that now and was ready for more. He knew he was sad, he knew why, but he didn't know what to do about it. That's where Hermione came in, with her practical - though unsolicited - advice.

Everything still hurt like hell, but he wasn't alone, and there were things he could do to fix some of these issues. He was beginning to feel a small amount of relief for the first time in ages.

Hermione was talking again and Harry focused his attention back on her. "It's not going to be like that forever." She was watching him, her brown eyes filled with concern.

"One day you'll say: 'The war is over, evil is gone, and damn, it really hurts to remember, and I have scars that will never go away - but I'm whole, and happy."

"You really believe that." He said it as a statement, not a question.

She nodded.

Harry took the hand she was holding and moved it, linking their fingers together. "I think I'm starting to believe that, too." He said, looking down at their entwined hands.

"Do you know why?" he asked. He saw her shake her head out of his periphery. He looked up at her and said seriously, "Because of you."

Hermione beamed at him, then leaned forward and hugged him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. Harry moved one hand to the top of her back and buried his face in her hair. He noted that it was down, since it was a Tuesday, and that it smelled good, like something floral.

"I know it's late and that we both have work tomorrow," she said as she pulled away, "but we can't end your birthday on such a melancholic note." She cocked her head toward the television. "Let's watch something funny."

Harry smiled and handed her the remote. "Sure, you pick."

She found some sitcom with one of those obnoxious laugh-tracks, then summoned a blanket from the other chair and curled herself under it. A few moments later, Harry was pulling the blanket off her. "Give me some."

"Stop!" she cried, pulling the blanket back. "You're letting all the cold air in."

"This is my house, that's my blanket, and it's my birthday, so you have to listen to me."

She huffed and grudgingly gave him a bit of the blanket. "I'm going to remember that in a few months when it's my birthday."

Harry felt her shiver against his legs and looked over at her. "Are you really that cold?"

"I'm always cold," she grumbled.

Harry sidled closer so that his side was flush with hers. "Better?"

"Oh, um, yeah," Hermione choked out.

She focused hard on the television as she tried to ignore the heat that had ignited just below her abdomen. It was a heat that had nothing to do with the temperature of the air in the room, or how much of the blanket was draped over her, and everything to do with the fact that she was sidled next to a man. An attractive, strong, good-smelling man. And that's when she started to panic.

She took slow, deliberate breaths, and reminded herself that this was Harry, and that she didn't like him like that. Her body was just reacting like this because she hadn't been with anyone in a long time. She was just lonely, that's all.

And it's not like he'd wrapped an arm around her or anything. All of this just because he'd leaned against her. How embarrassing.

Maybe she should start dating. She hadn't thought she was ready, but her body clearly thought otherwise. Perhaps she could do what Ron was doing and date someone for fun. She tended to make a lot out of things, but not everything had to be serious. The next person she dated didn't have to be the wizard she was going to marry.

[Her next boyfriend would be the wizard she was going to marry. But she was right, it didn't have to be that way.]

Her brain started searching around for something else to focus on. Anything besides Harry's body pressing into hers, and a potential new wizard, maybe one with an even better body. Was that possible? Harry was pretty fit. All that Auror training-

"Get a grip, Hermione!" the sensible voice in her mind yelled.

She needed something else to focus on. Anything to calm her racing heart and make the flush that had stained her neck and cheeks subside. She thought back on what Harry had said before, about her helping him move on, and that made her feel warm and lovely in an innocent, non-sexual way, so she clung to it.

She recalled her talk with Ginny, about sparks, and thought that this confirmed that her spark really was helping people. She wanted so badly to help Harry move past the war and was glad all of the pushing she'd done with his family hadn't backfired. Then, an odd thought popped into her mind.

She thought that maybe this - helping Harry Potter, one of the best people she'd ever met; the boy who had lost everything but had still been willing to sacrifice himself to save the world that had been so unkind to him - maybe, this was her legacy. She still wanted to work on legislation that would improve the lives of as many under-served populations as possible, but if all that failed and all she managed to do was help Harry, she thought that would be enough.

[Many years later, during an interview with the Daily Prophet, Hermione would be asked which of all her contributions she was most proud of. She would immediately think back to this moment. She'd recall everything clearly, from the feeling of Harry's warm body against hers, the sight of the television casting unnatural shadows around the room, and the sound of laughter that accompanied the sitcom.

She'd smile inwardly at how blind they'd been to what was going on between them, then she'd remember when she'd thought to herself that helping Harry heal, if she could manage it, would be her life's greatest accomplishment.

Sitting across from the reporter, she'd think that her younger self had been right. Harry was happy and whole, like she'd promised, and helping him get there was her greatest accomplishment. But she'd go on lie to the reporter and cite some law she'd passed a few years before. The truth was too personal to print in the Prophet.]

When the show was over, Hermione shifted away from Harry and turned off the telly. She stretched her arms over her head and turned to find Harry watching her. He looked tired, but not as sad as he had earlier.

She was about to announce that she was leaving but decided to press her luck and offer one final piece of unsolicited advice.

Harry knew what was coming as soon as he saw that guilty look on her face. He pulled the blanket that was still on his legs off, folded it with his wand, and sent it across the room, back to the chair where it belonged. He turned back to Hermione and waited for her to say whatever was on her mind.

She crawled closer to him, then sat back on her heels. "Harry."

"Yeah?"

"When you're alone here and sad. You - uh - don't have to do that. You have a lot of friends who love you, who you can call. And you don't have to explain or make it into a big thing. Just do this." She motioned toward the television.

Harry nodded and gave her a small smile. That was not as bad as he'd been expecting. Hermione was still nervous though, and he could tell it had taken a lot for her to say that. He took her advice for granted and forgot that she wasn't the bossy Hermione from school anymore, who spouted off her opinions without thinking. She was more restrained now.

He could tell each time she tried to help him - the talk on the doorstep of his aunt and uncle's house, giving him Dudley's email, and this - she was just waiting for him to bite her head off. But she was powering through anyway, determined to support him. Damn, she was an amazing friend.

Harry tried to reassure her. "I understand what you're saying. Thank you. And thanks, too, for my gift. I think I'm going to use it."

Hermione looked relieved and Harry saw her finally relax her shoulders. "Really?" She was smiling as if he had been the one to give her a gift.

He nodded and smiled back at her. A heavy silence settled between them and they sat there watching each other for a long time. Hermione had no idea what Harry was thinking.

His gaze was intense and for a wild moment, she thought he knew how her body had reacted earlier, when he'd sidled close to her, and was about to scold her for it. But the words that came out of his mouth next were not an admonishment. They also made no sense.

"If not for a troll…"

Harry lifted his hand and twirled one of her curls around his finger. She'd never seen him do that before, and it felt intimate, but not wrong.

"What?" she breathed.

He smiled, his eyes bright, and tucked the curl he'd been playing with behind her ear. "If not for a troll, you wouldn't be here with me right now."

And you being here, is everything, were the words that popped into his head next. But he didn't say them aloud, since he thought it would sound like a bit much and he wasn't quite sure what they meant.

"Nah," she shook her head. "We would have found another way."

August 2001

The next month passed uneventfully. Harry did end up emailing Dudley, who replied back with a long list of questions about the magical world he'd been dying to ask for years. After Harry had answered each question in the first email, Dudley responded with a second, even longer list of questions. Harry answered all the questions again, then had included a few questions of his own, about Dudley's life.

They'd exchanged a few emails like that since. One person would list out a few questions, the other person would answer the questions asked, then end their response with a new set of questions. It wasn't very elegant, and so far, they'd only covered surface-level topics, but it was a start.

Hermione's new law was rejected by the Elders, but not outright. They gave her a list of notes to address and she would get a chance to make edits and present it to them again. One of the things she had to do was "consider the Pureblood perspective," which made her sneer every time she thought of it.

Harry and Hermione didn't have any more deep conversations, but simply enjoyed each other's company. They met at Harry's every Tuesday night to make dinner, continued to meet at the Indian Restaurant for lunch on Thursdays (which is where they were now), and hung out together most weekends, whenever their other friends were busy.

But now (during this seemingly innocuous lunch), the story was about to take an interesting turn because Hermione had a date, and Harry was about to find out about it.

After the blanket-sharing incident with Harry the night of his birthday, Hermione made a pact to say yes to the next wizard to ask her out on a date (excluding any creeps or men who were too old, odd, or crazy.) Luckily, the first person to ask her out had not been any of those things, and she'd said yes. But she hadn't told anyone yet, since she knew all her friends would hate him.

"It's the Ministry Gala next weekend," Harry said from across the table. "When do you want me to pick you up?"

Hermione was flipping through the notebook she used to track their food orders and said distantly, "We're not going to that together. I'm going with someone else."

Harry choked on the water he was sipping, but Hermione didn't notice, she was scanning the notes she'd taken on their past orders and frowning.

When she finally looked up at Harry, he was watching her expectantly. "How would you rate this Tikka Masala?" she asked, pointing to one of the plates in front of them.

He shook his head incredulously.

"We gave it a four out of five," she continued, "but I think it's a two now. There wasn't much flavor and it's way too sweet. Do you think they changed the recipe? What if they changed other recipes? What if there are twos or threes that have now been improved to fours or fives, and we're missing out on them?"

"Can you stop talking about Tikka Masala and circle back to what you just said?" Harry asked, clearly annoyed.

"What?"

"About your date!"

"Oh," she waved her hand. "That."

Hermione sighed and put down her notebook, but the look she gave Harry made it clear that this conversation about Tikka Masala was not over and that she was going to get to the bottom of this.

"Yes, Harry," she said in a bored tone. "I'm attending the Ministry Gala with someone. A man."

"Who?" he asked accusingly.

Hermione smirked. "This is reminiscent of the Yule Ball."

"You're taking a famous Quidditch player?"

"No. I already have a date and you're just asking me because you've just realized I'm a girl and don't want to ask anyone else."

"That's not why," Harry said, affronted.

"Sure it's not."

"Shit. I just assumed we were going together. Now I have to get a real date?"

"You were named one of the most eligible bachelors in the UK. Ask anyone. They'll say yes."

Harry cocked his head in confusion. "When did that happen? How did I miss that?"

"It was in Witch Weekly two weeks ago. I know you only buy the ones with your face on the cover, which is probably why you skipped over this issue. You weren't on the cover since you were number two on the list."

"Who was number one?"

Hermione shook her head and was barely managing to suppress her smirk. "You're going to hate it."

Harry thought she looked way too pleased with herself. "Just tell me."

"Draco Malfoy."

"Ew!"

"I know," she winced. "That is pretty bad."

"How did the ferret beat me?"

Hermione shook her head. She knew Harry didn't care one iota about where he was on some list of bachelors, but once his childhood rival was thrown into the mix, he suddenly wanted to be number one.

"They're just trying to sell magazines, Harry. You've been on the cover too much lately, they needed another face - one that's nice to look at. And he's rich, which doesn't hurt."

Harry looked like he was about to implode, which just made Hermione laugh. "What is happening here?!" he hissed. "You fancy Draco Malfoy now? You have secret dates to - no… No, Hermione! Absolutely not!"

"What?" Hermione leaned back in her chair and looked around for the source of whatever had offended Harry. "What just happened?"

"If your date to the Gala is Draco Malfoy, I will lose my shit, and kill both of you. No joke. Then I'll probably kill myself. It'll be a whole murder/suicide thing and it will all be your fault."

Hermione's jaw dropped. She had no idea what to say to that. He was obviously joking, but he looked dead serious. She smiled at her inadvertent pun, and his gaze hardened.

Harry crossed his arms in front of him and raised an eyebrow at her, waiting for an explanation.

She attempted a joke to alleviate the tension. "I have never heard you this dramatic before. You're very cute when you're jealous, Sugarplum."

"Cut the crap right now and tell me who you're taking to the Gala."

Hermione sighed. "I'm not taking Draco Malfoy, don't be ridiculous."

"Promise?"

"Absolutely! Come on, you know me better than that."

"I thought I did," he grumbled, "but then you started going on about how handsome he is."

"I was just commenting on magazine sales. You need to calm down. You're just angry you're only the number two most eligible bachelor and you're taking it out on me."

Harry pouted. "You think that could get me free drinks or something."

"Nope, just dates. But those aren't free, not for the wizards, anyway. Speaking of which, you're paying for this lunch. I've paid for the last three."

Harry wasn't listening to her. His thoughts were on how he was supposed to find a date. Hermione was right, there were plenty of witches out there who would want to date him, but most of them only liked him because he was famous, and some of them were crazy - like whoever had sent him her eyelashes. How was he supposed to find the nice, non-crazy ones who were truly interested in him?

"Hello?" Hermione was waving her hand in front of his face.

"What?"

"I was just saying that you're paying for lunch today."

"Okay, fine. Question for you. How do I find a non-crazy date? Go to the Leaky Cauldron one night and just - catch someone alone? Then what? Is there some series of questions I should ask to filter out the weird people? What if they lie?"

He paused and ran a finger over his bottom lip. "Maybe I should slip them Veritaserum," he said thoughtfully.

"No! No slipping substances in witches' drinks. Okay?"

Harry pouted again and Hermione sighed. For being the second most eligible bachelor in all of Britain, he was hopeless when it came to women. "There's a new witch in my department who I think you might like. Her name is Malinda. I can introduce you two when we get back to the office."

"Why are you just now telling me this?"

Hermione shrugged. "I didn't know you were ready to date."

"I wasn't. I'm not. But then you had to go and mess everything up. Now tell me, seriously this time, who is it?"

Hermione shook her head. "I'm not telling."

"Why not?"

"Because you'll lecture me about it."

"I'm going to find out at the Gala, and then I'll lecture you there. Wouldn't you rather get it over with?"

"No. I'd rather wait."

Harry glared at her, then he leaned in and said without a hint of irony, "Ditch the guy and go with me. It's not too late to say no to whoever it is."

Hermione grazed the back of Harry's leg with the toe of her shoe. "Oh, come on, Pumpkin. We both knew this was just a summer fling."

Harry narrowed his eyes at her and without dropping her gaze, sent a Stinging Hex at her foot, which was still touching his calf. It wasn't very strong, since he had cast it without a wand, but it still shocked her.

She jumped in her seat and her eyes widened in shock. "Harry! We're surrounded by Muggles!"

"Which is why I cast it under the table, Sweet Cheeks."

Hermione scowled. That was her least favorite nickname and he knew it.

"I don't like your tone, Harry James Potter. Apologize, or I won't introduce you to my coworker and you'll have to go without a date. Then crazy witches will be approaching you all night, begging for dances."

"Fine," Harry sneered. "Sorry."

Hermione had known Harry would be annoyed at having to find himself a date, but she hadn't expected him to be this put-out, and he still didn't know who she was going with. Judging by his response today, his reaction to the identity of her mystery date was going to be extreme.

She gave him a small smile, then motioned back to her notebook. "Are we finished with all that? Can we go back to the Tikka Masala, because this is a serious issue. It calls my whole system into question."

Harry nodded, eager to change the subject, but he was still reeling from Hermione's news. Why wouldn't she tell Harry who her date was? That must mean he was bad for her, right? And was this a first date, or had she been seeing this bloke for a while? He'd thought they were close, then she went and hid this rather large thing from him. Harry felt hurt and betrayed, and also, a little pathetic for feeling so hurt and betrayed.

He tried his best to push it to the side of his mind. He'd find out the truth soon enough. And he should probably enjoy all this time he had alone with Hermione now, because if she got a boyfriend, she wouldn't have time for Harry anymore.

A/N: The next chapter will be fun. We'll get to see who Hermione's date is, and more importantly, Harry's reaction.

Hermione and Ginny's conversation was inspired by the movie, Soul. Check it out on Disney if you haven't seen it. It's super cute.

Also, I had initially planned for Hermione to give Harry a phone so he could text Dudley (which is the least scary form of communication out there), then I remembered this takes place in 2001, and texting back then was pretty difficult. It cost like 0.10 per text, the buttons were all small. That wouldn't have been very realistic, also, I feel old for remembering all of that.

I'm on Tumblr at Alexandra-Emerson and by beta for this story is Lancashire Witch, who is awesome. Thanks for reading!