Hermione was sitting in an armchair in the common room when Harry came down a morning a few weeks later. Ron was sitting next to her, attempting to decipher a complicated chart for divination, except he couldn't seem to find which way up it went.
"Uhh, Ron, did you get up in the night and decide to give me a haircut?" Asked a bemused-looking Harry, who was still in his pyjamas.
"No, why?" Said Ron, not looking up from his chart. Hermione stifled a giggle.
"Very funny, now just tell me why you did it," He put his hands on his hips, waiting for an explanation. Ron finally looked up from his chart, and burst out laughing.
"It's…it's…terrible!" He managed to blurt out between guffaws. Harry really did look a sight. A giant chunk of hair from the left side of his head had been cut off, leaving an unsightly bald patch. The two friends looked at Harry with confusion, and he sank down in a chair next to them.
"I just don't know why anyone would have done this. Why would someone want my hair?" He warmed his feet by the fire, having forgotten to put on slippers before he came down.
"Probably one of the first years who think they can get a good price for it on the black market." Ron added his opinion, always going for the most far-fetched of the ideas, although sometimes his were not nearly as far-fetched as the actual truth. That idea reminded Harry of the time he had accidentally ended up in Knockturn Alley while using floo powder, and had been offered a tray of toenails. He shuddered.
"Probably someone like Malfoy playing a joke on Harry. You know, paying someone to come in and cut his hair off. Or Dobby. Probably taking it to make a nice protection potion for you. Anyway, it won't be a problem anymore." Hermione whipped out her wand, said a lengthening charm, and tapped Harry's head. The hair grew back into place, completely covering the bald spot and blending in with the surrounding hair.
"Woah," Breathed Ron, marvelling at Hermione's skill. It was nothing compared to what they knew she could really do, but impressive nonetheless. Harry returned to his dormitory to get changed, then they all went down to have breakfast in the hopes that this would be an uneventful day.
The day was practically uneventful, except for Neville dropping his glass on the floor at dinnertime, something that regularly occurred roughly every two weeks. Hermione was walking back to Gryffindor tower, having excused herself saying she had Arithmancy homework to do, when an arm pulled her into an unused classroom.
"Harry! What are you doing in here, how did you get here so fast?" She was surprised, to say the least. Harry was looking at her with something in her eyes she had never seen before. He pushed her up against the wall, and pressed his mouth into hers. She responded to the passionate kiss with a fire that equalled his, and wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him closer. When they came up for air, Harry led her over to some chairs and they sat down.
"I wanted to spend some time alone with you. Away from…" He halted for a second, "Ron, and the others."
"What others?" She thought, but brushed the question away lightly.
"I wanted to talk to you. I like you so much Hermione, and I want to know so much. About you, where you grew up, everything." He was so passionate, so forceful, that Hermione felt she had to tell him everything. It was like he had cast some spell on her. But of course that couldn't be true, she had made a perfect shield charm this afternoon, according to Professor Flitwick, and it would not wear off for a few more hours.
They talked far into the night, and were caught up in animated stories of family reunions, birthdays, and childhoods (mostly Hermione's though, Harry was not too eager to share his past. She couldn't blame him, after what he had been through). When they got up to leave, Harry pulled her around to look at him.
"Please don't talk about this, I don't know what Ron would say. And, well, I want to keep this just between the two of us. Meet me back here tomorrow night. Same time, same place." He kissed her on the cheek and rushed out, speeding off before she could say another word. Hermione walked back to Gryffindor Tower, and was not surprised to see Harry already there, lounging in a corner.
Of course, she went back the next night, and so did he. And the night after that, and the night after. In fact, after three weeks of their little nighttime meetings, Hermione really thought she was falling for Harry. Although he pretended that he didn't know anything during the day, it was worth it for what he was like later on. She found herself looking forward to their little trysts every day. Harry was so different when they were alone, like nobody else mattered, and his eyes burnt into hers like small green stars, filling her with joy and pleasure. Hermione had begun to fall for him.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"By now, your 'veritaserum' should be ready," Snape drawled, stalking menacingly around the classroom as he surveyed their handiwork, "That is, unless you have all managed to make as gigantic a mess out of this as Mr Longbottom over here." He looked over at Neville, who was struggling with bright blue everlasting-bubble covered hands, having spilt his cauldron but a few seconds ago.
Hermione turned away from the clear liquid in the cauldron in front of her, to look at Ron, who was trying to cover up the fact that his potion was hot pink and smelt like rotten pumpkin. She was so engrossed in looking at the mix-ups other students had managed to make, that she didn't notice Draco Malfoy filling a small vial from the cauldron, and slipping it inside his robes.
"Now, this is what the correct potion should look like," Said Snape to the class, as the stood in front of Malfoy and Hermione, holding up the cauldron containing their perfect veritaserum, "Fifty points to Slytherin for your excellent work, Mr Malfoy. Oh, and ten points to Gryffindor for your help, Miss Granger."
The class ended, and Hermione rushed back to her room to brush her hair a little before meeting with Harry. She wanted to look respectable, of course. When she arrived at the empty classroom, Harry was already there, as usual. She moved quickly over to him, and leant in for a kiss, but something on his face told her to stop.
"What's wrong Harry?" She whispered, not sure whether he wanted her there or to be alone.
"Nothing, no, nothing. Just, before we carry on, I want to know how you feel about me."
Her mind began to spin. "Why is this so hard for me to answer? I should be able to tell him, just like that. But I can't, why not?" her thoughts were whirling around faster than a toad with a spinning charm put on it, and she let out a giant sob. Harry walked to the front of the room, and returned with a glass of water in his hand.
"Here, drink this, it might help. I'm sorry, just take your time." She wondered why he was being so serious all of a sudden, but took a sip of the water anyway.
"I love you, Draco." She blurted out, looking into his hesitant eyes and seeing them soften. "Wow, this really did help," She thought, looking at the water in her hand. Then it hit her what she had just said. Draco? Her hand went up to her mouth as she quickly drew in breath, and then raced out of the room. She burst through the portrait hole and into the Gryffindor common room to find Harry calmly sitting next to Ron, while writing an essay for History of Magic. She had already known she would find him here; the pieces had clicked into place just after the words had escaped her lips. The stolen ingredients, Harry's hair, the veritaserum they had made in class that very day. Why hadn't she seen it before?
She stormed up to her bedroom, intent on making that smarmy git pay for what he had done to her. Somebody had a lot to answer to, and it wasn't Harry.
"Uhh, Ron, did you get up in the night and decide to give me a haircut?" Asked a bemused-looking Harry, who was still in his pyjamas.
"No, why?" Said Ron, not looking up from his chart. Hermione stifled a giggle.
"Very funny, now just tell me why you did it," He put his hands on his hips, waiting for an explanation. Ron finally looked up from his chart, and burst out laughing.
"It's…it's…terrible!" He managed to blurt out between guffaws. Harry really did look a sight. A giant chunk of hair from the left side of his head had been cut off, leaving an unsightly bald patch. The two friends looked at Harry with confusion, and he sank down in a chair next to them.
"I just don't know why anyone would have done this. Why would someone want my hair?" He warmed his feet by the fire, having forgotten to put on slippers before he came down.
"Probably one of the first years who think they can get a good price for it on the black market." Ron added his opinion, always going for the most far-fetched of the ideas, although sometimes his were not nearly as far-fetched as the actual truth. That idea reminded Harry of the time he had accidentally ended up in Knockturn Alley while using floo powder, and had been offered a tray of toenails. He shuddered.
"Probably someone like Malfoy playing a joke on Harry. You know, paying someone to come in and cut his hair off. Or Dobby. Probably taking it to make a nice protection potion for you. Anyway, it won't be a problem anymore." Hermione whipped out her wand, said a lengthening charm, and tapped Harry's head. The hair grew back into place, completely covering the bald spot and blending in with the surrounding hair.
"Woah," Breathed Ron, marvelling at Hermione's skill. It was nothing compared to what they knew she could really do, but impressive nonetheless. Harry returned to his dormitory to get changed, then they all went down to have breakfast in the hopes that this would be an uneventful day.
The day was practically uneventful, except for Neville dropping his glass on the floor at dinnertime, something that regularly occurred roughly every two weeks. Hermione was walking back to Gryffindor tower, having excused herself saying she had Arithmancy homework to do, when an arm pulled her into an unused classroom.
"Harry! What are you doing in here, how did you get here so fast?" She was surprised, to say the least. Harry was looking at her with something in her eyes she had never seen before. He pushed her up against the wall, and pressed his mouth into hers. She responded to the passionate kiss with a fire that equalled his, and wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him closer. When they came up for air, Harry led her over to some chairs and they sat down.
"I wanted to spend some time alone with you. Away from…" He halted for a second, "Ron, and the others."
"What others?" She thought, but brushed the question away lightly.
"I wanted to talk to you. I like you so much Hermione, and I want to know so much. About you, where you grew up, everything." He was so passionate, so forceful, that Hermione felt she had to tell him everything. It was like he had cast some spell on her. But of course that couldn't be true, she had made a perfect shield charm this afternoon, according to Professor Flitwick, and it would not wear off for a few more hours.
They talked far into the night, and were caught up in animated stories of family reunions, birthdays, and childhoods (mostly Hermione's though, Harry was not too eager to share his past. She couldn't blame him, after what he had been through). When they got up to leave, Harry pulled her around to look at him.
"Please don't talk about this, I don't know what Ron would say. And, well, I want to keep this just between the two of us. Meet me back here tomorrow night. Same time, same place." He kissed her on the cheek and rushed out, speeding off before she could say another word. Hermione walked back to Gryffindor Tower, and was not surprised to see Harry already there, lounging in a corner.
Of course, she went back the next night, and so did he. And the night after that, and the night after. In fact, after three weeks of their little nighttime meetings, Hermione really thought she was falling for Harry. Although he pretended that he didn't know anything during the day, it was worth it for what he was like later on. She found herself looking forward to their little trysts every day. Harry was so different when they were alone, like nobody else mattered, and his eyes burnt into hers like small green stars, filling her with joy and pleasure. Hermione had begun to fall for him.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
"By now, your 'veritaserum' should be ready," Snape drawled, stalking menacingly around the classroom as he surveyed their handiwork, "That is, unless you have all managed to make as gigantic a mess out of this as Mr Longbottom over here." He looked over at Neville, who was struggling with bright blue everlasting-bubble covered hands, having spilt his cauldron but a few seconds ago.
Hermione turned away from the clear liquid in the cauldron in front of her, to look at Ron, who was trying to cover up the fact that his potion was hot pink and smelt like rotten pumpkin. She was so engrossed in looking at the mix-ups other students had managed to make, that she didn't notice Draco Malfoy filling a small vial from the cauldron, and slipping it inside his robes.
"Now, this is what the correct potion should look like," Said Snape to the class, as the stood in front of Malfoy and Hermione, holding up the cauldron containing their perfect veritaserum, "Fifty points to Slytherin for your excellent work, Mr Malfoy. Oh, and ten points to Gryffindor for your help, Miss Granger."
The class ended, and Hermione rushed back to her room to brush her hair a little before meeting with Harry. She wanted to look respectable, of course. When she arrived at the empty classroom, Harry was already there, as usual. She moved quickly over to him, and leant in for a kiss, but something on his face told her to stop.
"What's wrong Harry?" She whispered, not sure whether he wanted her there or to be alone.
"Nothing, no, nothing. Just, before we carry on, I want to know how you feel about me."
Her mind began to spin. "Why is this so hard for me to answer? I should be able to tell him, just like that. But I can't, why not?" her thoughts were whirling around faster than a toad with a spinning charm put on it, and she let out a giant sob. Harry walked to the front of the room, and returned with a glass of water in his hand.
"Here, drink this, it might help. I'm sorry, just take your time." She wondered why he was being so serious all of a sudden, but took a sip of the water anyway.
"I love you, Draco." She blurted out, looking into his hesitant eyes and seeing them soften. "Wow, this really did help," She thought, looking at the water in her hand. Then it hit her what she had just said. Draco? Her hand went up to her mouth as she quickly drew in breath, and then raced out of the room. She burst through the portrait hole and into the Gryffindor common room to find Harry calmly sitting next to Ron, while writing an essay for History of Magic. She had already known she would find him here; the pieces had clicked into place just after the words had escaped her lips. The stolen ingredients, Harry's hair, the veritaserum they had made in class that very day. Why hadn't she seen it before?
She stormed up to her bedroom, intent on making that smarmy git pay for what he had done to her. Somebody had a lot to answer to, and it wasn't Harry.