Author's note: I unfortunately had to halt work on this story, as school
was becoming quite… pressing. ^^;; But now I'm on summer holiday! Yay!
Thanks to everyone and their encouraging reviews! Don't like my story? Tell
me so I can fix it. ^-^
Sunday morning. The golden sunlight that filtered in through the large, cathedral-like windows of Hogwarts still glimmered with the warmth of the passing summer. The enchanted ceiling was coloured cerulean blue, filled with rolling puffs of clouds and glittering sunbeams. It was a refreshing morning, a morning when one can take a deep breath and almost feel reborn. The serenity that filled the air took its effect on the students; they sat about the great dining hall slowly enjoying their breakfast, repeating what a beautiful day it was going to be and how they ought to spend it.
At the Gryffindor table, Harry, Ron, and the rest of the Weasley children were relaxing in the warm, morning atmosphere, savouring the meal that the house elves had once again cooked without flaw. "Hermione ought to get her lazy self down here before all the food's gone," Ron said between his cheekful of scrambled eggs. "She was *still* in the bathroom when we left!" None but Ginny noticed the light flush that caught Harry's cheeks. "Honestly, what *is* she doing?" Ron had by now swallowed his eggs, and he looked at his sister for some sort of answer.
Ginny merely shrugged. "Maybe she's putting a little…" Her hand waved about as if trying to catch the answer in midair. "…rouge on or something." Harry and Ron exchanged glances while Fred and George did the same. The four then burst out laughing.
"Hermione? Putting on make-up?!" George exclaimed, trying to contain his laughter enough to talk. "And I suppose McGonagall's up there giving her some pointers?" That started a whole 'nother round of chortling.
As Ginny shot her older brother a dirty look, the chattering at the end of the Gryffindor table had evaporated into frantic whispers. Harry and the Weasleys took no notice of its diffusion down towards their end of the table. As their laughter over George's joke slowly died out, it was interrupted by a morning greeting from behind Harry and Ron. The two looked around to see a strange girl with a familiar face… Wait, of course the face was familiar… It was Hermione!
They looked down at her feet, finding her usual pair of Mary Jane's, then her usual pair of gray knee socks, then her knees, then her legs… and more of her legs… and more of her legs… and even more… where her usual pleated skirt *ought* to be. Finally, their eyes came across the hem of it, about five miles higher than it usually was, followed by her white button-up blouse, which (due to the bulky sweater she normally wore) hugged her figure a lot more than anyone had guessed and seemed to be un-buttoned a few too many times at the top. Indeed, Ginny had been right about why Hermione had taken so long in the bathroom. She had lightly made-up her face, but any make-up on Hermione's face was considered startling. Not to mention her hair! All bushiness had been cleared away for a straight, silky mane of auburn.
And it wasn't simply her physical appearance that was stunningly different. Harry noticed something else. She carried herself with a whole new air; her aura seemed aglow with self-assurance. And there was a brightness in her eyes, that he had seen only a few times during their friendship.
Ginny was the first to say something. "Hermione! You look so… nice!" she cried ecstatically. There was a tint of pride in her voice, like the kind one has when they are viewing their finished creation.
"I'm glad you like," she replied coolly, as if a day in her life had never gone by without her receiving a compliment.
"Are you sure you don't have Ginny's skirt on by mistake?" Ron said as Hermione sat down across from him, his eyes so wide they threatened to fall from their sockets.
But Hermione smiled. "You mean this old thing? I just had it lying around," she replied, coyness coating her voice. "Pardon my reach." Harry, who had been exchanging looks of disbelief with his best friend, realized Hermione stretching over him to fetch an apple. He also realized that she was providing him with a most… interesting view… He quickly jolted his eyes away; he'd already seen enough of that to last him a lifetime.
"'Morning Hermione!" came two synchronized and familiar voices.
"Good morning Seamus, Dean," she replied in an astonishingly charismatic voice, her fingers fluttering lightly in greeting. They both waved back, the same excitement showing in them they had displayed in front of Lavender only days before.
Ron was still frozen in his seat, completely dumbstruck, his forkful of eggs still hanging in midair. His lips twitched, trying to form some arrangement of words to convey his utter disbelief. Harry found himself in the exact predicament as he watched Hermione nonchalantly take a bite from her apple. It was a little frightening to observe the… alluring way her pearly teeth pierced the scarlet flesh of the fruit… the way her tongue ran along her soft lips, gathering from them the trickles of sweet jui—
"Oi! Harry! We best be getting to practice!" Harry jolted away from his thoughts. He looked after the Weasley twins blankly, who had already started out of the Great Hall, before finally understanding what they had said. Giving a slow nod, he started to rise from the table. Ron, who finally regained mobility, smacked the table with his fist.
"That's right! You wouldn't want to miss your first Quidditch practice as Captain!" He looked as if it had been him who had made Quidditch Team Captain, instead of Harry.
"Harry!" Hermione cried ecstatically, throwing her arms around one of Harry's and forcing him back into his seat. "How come you never told?" She was leaning dangerously close to him.
"Well… I…" Harry forced out with much fluster, pushing his disheveled glasses up on his nose with his free hand. "I was going to tell you last night, but…" He swallowed hard. Hermione laughed.
"Ah, yes… Last night."
"Last night?" Ron asked, confusion reclaiming him.
"Forge and Gred—er, Fred and George, are right. I'm going to be late." Harry stuttered quickly, standing up quite awkwardly. "See you at the field, Ron," he continued, trying to get away before anyone noticed the flush rising to his cheeks.
"Wait." Hermione had latched on to his arm again, and was giving him a most… interesting look. "I'll come with you." She stood as well, apple in hand, tossing Ron a smile and Ginny a wink. Ron raised his hand in a distracted farewell and Ginny flashed her a thumbs-up.
The two Gryffindor fifth years emerged out into the gleaming warmth of the sunlight and onto the fresh and verdant grass of Hogwarts's lawn, heading towards the school's Quidditch field. From here, Harry could see the sunbeams iridescently glinting off the metal scoring hoops. It was one thing to observe such a beautiful day from inside the castle, but an entirely different thing to actually experience it first hand. Had he ever known a more perfect day? The wind blew like a soft whisper in his ear, the sun caressing his face with a warm hand… Wait—or was that Hermione?
He looked down to see her still hugging his arm. It wasn't like it felt *bad*—heck, it actually felt somewhat nice—but he was bothered by it nonetheless. It was so strikingly un-Hermione for her to be so… Casual? Open?
She was looking up at him now, smiling that odd smile she had so recently acquired. "I think it's just *fabulous* that you made Captain." She gave his arm a squeeze. "I never doubted you for a second. Wasn't I right when I said it was in your blood?" He gave a somewhat feeble smile.
"I guess so. But I think Alicia deserved the spot more…"
"Nonsense!" Hermione laughed, relinquishing her grip to give him a playful push. "I think you're the best Quidditch player Hogwarts has ever seen," she continued flattering him, a smirk playing across her face.
Harry tried to smile back again, feeling a strange relief when they had reached the entrance to the changing rooms at the field. "I'll see you… out… on the… thing…" he jerked his hand towards the arena. Hermione nodded, leaning in close to him one last time. "Too bad I can't come in with you." Harry felt his knees nearly give out, but she had already started off, disappearing in the flash of a flirtatious smile.
Sunday morning. The golden sunlight that filtered in through the large, cathedral-like windows of Hogwarts still glimmered with the warmth of the passing summer. The enchanted ceiling was coloured cerulean blue, filled with rolling puffs of clouds and glittering sunbeams. It was a refreshing morning, a morning when one can take a deep breath and almost feel reborn. The serenity that filled the air took its effect on the students; they sat about the great dining hall slowly enjoying their breakfast, repeating what a beautiful day it was going to be and how they ought to spend it.
At the Gryffindor table, Harry, Ron, and the rest of the Weasley children were relaxing in the warm, morning atmosphere, savouring the meal that the house elves had once again cooked without flaw. "Hermione ought to get her lazy self down here before all the food's gone," Ron said between his cheekful of scrambled eggs. "She was *still* in the bathroom when we left!" None but Ginny noticed the light flush that caught Harry's cheeks. "Honestly, what *is* she doing?" Ron had by now swallowed his eggs, and he looked at his sister for some sort of answer.
Ginny merely shrugged. "Maybe she's putting a little…" Her hand waved about as if trying to catch the answer in midair. "…rouge on or something." Harry and Ron exchanged glances while Fred and George did the same. The four then burst out laughing.
"Hermione? Putting on make-up?!" George exclaimed, trying to contain his laughter enough to talk. "And I suppose McGonagall's up there giving her some pointers?" That started a whole 'nother round of chortling.
As Ginny shot her older brother a dirty look, the chattering at the end of the Gryffindor table had evaporated into frantic whispers. Harry and the Weasleys took no notice of its diffusion down towards their end of the table. As their laughter over George's joke slowly died out, it was interrupted by a morning greeting from behind Harry and Ron. The two looked around to see a strange girl with a familiar face… Wait, of course the face was familiar… It was Hermione!
They looked down at her feet, finding her usual pair of Mary Jane's, then her usual pair of gray knee socks, then her knees, then her legs… and more of her legs… and more of her legs… and even more… where her usual pleated skirt *ought* to be. Finally, their eyes came across the hem of it, about five miles higher than it usually was, followed by her white button-up blouse, which (due to the bulky sweater she normally wore) hugged her figure a lot more than anyone had guessed and seemed to be un-buttoned a few too many times at the top. Indeed, Ginny had been right about why Hermione had taken so long in the bathroom. She had lightly made-up her face, but any make-up on Hermione's face was considered startling. Not to mention her hair! All bushiness had been cleared away for a straight, silky mane of auburn.
And it wasn't simply her physical appearance that was stunningly different. Harry noticed something else. She carried herself with a whole new air; her aura seemed aglow with self-assurance. And there was a brightness in her eyes, that he had seen only a few times during their friendship.
Ginny was the first to say something. "Hermione! You look so… nice!" she cried ecstatically. There was a tint of pride in her voice, like the kind one has when they are viewing their finished creation.
"I'm glad you like," she replied coolly, as if a day in her life had never gone by without her receiving a compliment.
"Are you sure you don't have Ginny's skirt on by mistake?" Ron said as Hermione sat down across from him, his eyes so wide they threatened to fall from their sockets.
But Hermione smiled. "You mean this old thing? I just had it lying around," she replied, coyness coating her voice. "Pardon my reach." Harry, who had been exchanging looks of disbelief with his best friend, realized Hermione stretching over him to fetch an apple. He also realized that she was providing him with a most… interesting view… He quickly jolted his eyes away; he'd already seen enough of that to last him a lifetime.
"'Morning Hermione!" came two synchronized and familiar voices.
"Good morning Seamus, Dean," she replied in an astonishingly charismatic voice, her fingers fluttering lightly in greeting. They both waved back, the same excitement showing in them they had displayed in front of Lavender only days before.
Ron was still frozen in his seat, completely dumbstruck, his forkful of eggs still hanging in midair. His lips twitched, trying to form some arrangement of words to convey his utter disbelief. Harry found himself in the exact predicament as he watched Hermione nonchalantly take a bite from her apple. It was a little frightening to observe the… alluring way her pearly teeth pierced the scarlet flesh of the fruit… the way her tongue ran along her soft lips, gathering from them the trickles of sweet jui—
"Oi! Harry! We best be getting to practice!" Harry jolted away from his thoughts. He looked after the Weasley twins blankly, who had already started out of the Great Hall, before finally understanding what they had said. Giving a slow nod, he started to rise from the table. Ron, who finally regained mobility, smacked the table with his fist.
"That's right! You wouldn't want to miss your first Quidditch practice as Captain!" He looked as if it had been him who had made Quidditch Team Captain, instead of Harry.
"Harry!" Hermione cried ecstatically, throwing her arms around one of Harry's and forcing him back into his seat. "How come you never told?" She was leaning dangerously close to him.
"Well… I…" Harry forced out with much fluster, pushing his disheveled glasses up on his nose with his free hand. "I was going to tell you last night, but…" He swallowed hard. Hermione laughed.
"Ah, yes… Last night."
"Last night?" Ron asked, confusion reclaiming him.
"Forge and Gred—er, Fred and George, are right. I'm going to be late." Harry stuttered quickly, standing up quite awkwardly. "See you at the field, Ron," he continued, trying to get away before anyone noticed the flush rising to his cheeks.
"Wait." Hermione had latched on to his arm again, and was giving him a most… interesting look. "I'll come with you." She stood as well, apple in hand, tossing Ron a smile and Ginny a wink. Ron raised his hand in a distracted farewell and Ginny flashed her a thumbs-up.
The two Gryffindor fifth years emerged out into the gleaming warmth of the sunlight and onto the fresh and verdant grass of Hogwarts's lawn, heading towards the school's Quidditch field. From here, Harry could see the sunbeams iridescently glinting off the metal scoring hoops. It was one thing to observe such a beautiful day from inside the castle, but an entirely different thing to actually experience it first hand. Had he ever known a more perfect day? The wind blew like a soft whisper in his ear, the sun caressing his face with a warm hand… Wait—or was that Hermione?
He looked down to see her still hugging his arm. It wasn't like it felt *bad*—heck, it actually felt somewhat nice—but he was bothered by it nonetheless. It was so strikingly un-Hermione for her to be so… Casual? Open?
She was looking up at him now, smiling that odd smile she had so recently acquired. "I think it's just *fabulous* that you made Captain." She gave his arm a squeeze. "I never doubted you for a second. Wasn't I right when I said it was in your blood?" He gave a somewhat feeble smile.
"I guess so. But I think Alicia deserved the spot more…"
"Nonsense!" Hermione laughed, relinquishing her grip to give him a playful push. "I think you're the best Quidditch player Hogwarts has ever seen," she continued flattering him, a smirk playing across her face.
Harry tried to smile back again, feeling a strange relief when they had reached the entrance to the changing rooms at the field. "I'll see you… out… on the… thing…" he jerked his hand towards the arena. Hermione nodded, leaning in close to him one last time. "Too bad I can't come in with you." Harry felt his knees nearly give out, but she had already started off, disappearing in the flash of a flirtatious smile.
