TITLE: DO YOU THINK OF ME?
AUTHOR: D.O. Parker
RATING: mostly PG-13, but R for a chapter or two
SPOILER: Probably the saddest Harry/Hermione fanfic ever created (whoa, hot
air coming through!). But, really.this is my first attempt at a fanfic.
Even if you're not a big fan of the H/Hr pairing, I think it's worth a
read. Please feel free to R/R.
SUMMARY: Prequel to a currently untitled story. Harry, Ron & Hermione are
in their 7th and last year at Hogwarts. Voldemort has been defeated. What
happens when Harry's sights are set on someone else and Hermione chooses to
keep quiet about her feelings for him?
SHIPS: implied H/Hr
CHAPTER 2: JUST A FRIEND.
"YES!!!" Harry yelled triumphantly, jumping onto a sleeping Hermione's bed. "Yes! Yes! Yes!"
"Harry Potter," she croaked sleepily, pulling her covers up to her chest and murmuring for her bedside lamp to switch open. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"
"Yes, it's 2:47."
"In the morning!" Hermione cried. "Please, go away and let me sleep."
"No, you can't go to bed yet. I haven't properly thanked you for getting me with Diana."
Sleep forgotten, Hermione sat up with a start. "Getting you with who?" she pressed.
"Diana. I did everything you told me to do. I was straightforward and honest and we spent the whole evening talking in the common room."
"And this morning, too, by the look of it. What did you talk about?" Hermione wanted to know.
"Lots of things. Like, what the difference is between European magic and American magic, and how wizards are like where she's from and stuff like those. Plus, I've learned she's really into those indoor games like Twister and Wizard Chess and Gobstones."
"And did you confess that you were into more outdoor games like Quidditch?"
"Not really. She doesn't care for Quidditch very much. She says it's a violent game."
"Like wizard chess isn't violent," Hermione replied sarcastically. She stifled a yawn. The one season where she allowed herself to sleep in and Harry had to go wake her up. "Harry, can you just thank me and get it over with? I'd really like to go back to sleep."
"Right. Thanks for the help, Herm. I wouldn't have been able to get a date with her without you."
"Date? What date?" Hermione demanded.
"I invited her for a butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks tomorrow, actually it's tonight." Harry laughed at himself and Hermione felt herself being drained of energy. "I'll let you sleep now. Night. And thanks again, Hermione." Then, Harry disappeared behind the portrait hole.
Harry was going on a date. Harry Potter. Her Harry Potter was going out on a date - with no less than an American witch. The same American witch that made Hermione's blood boil just thinking about her.
"I can't believe this!" she cried angrily into the night, slipping on her robe to wallow in her thoughts at the common room.
"So much for a peaceful sleep," her mirror mumbled dreamily as Hermione stormed away.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
The Gryffindor common room was empty when Hermione stalked angrily inside. First things first, why was she so angry? Was she angry at Harry? No, her brain taunted her. You're angry at Diana Owens!
But why was I so angry with her? She hasn't done anything to me.
That's right. Why do you think you're angry at her?
I don't know! She just acts so flirty, like, she's Queen of Hogwarts or something.
Have you ever really seen her act like she was Queen of Hogwarts? And when did you ever see her flirt?
Those guys around her are an obvious enough reason.
Those guys like her because she's who you are minus the brown hair and sarcasm. She's a sweeter version of you. Add that to the fact that she's foreign.
Just because she's new. They wouldn't really like her if she was in her natural environment. And if she's just like me then why don't they ask me out? No, wait, don't tell me - Viktor.
Do you want all of them to ask you out?
Don't be silly. But if they were going to look for a substitute me anyway.
I think you're jealous.
Of what?
Because Harry's going out with Diana.
Why should I be jealous of Harry and Diana?
Because Harry's been yours all these years and now, someone's taking him from you. And you know that you don't want to let go.
Hermione paused. Part of her wanted to trash everything that her subconscious had just said. After all, talking (or thinking) to herself might end her up at the funny farm. But didn't our subconscious hold our deepest desires and secrets?
So.am I in love with Harry?
Just because I'm a little angry and confused doesn't mean I'm in love with him. Harry's my best friend, for crying out loud.
You're angry and confused because Harry's being taken away from you. Think about it - you only started not liking Diana when it was clear to you that Harry was taken with her.
Hermione stopped to ponder on the last statement before realizing that it was true. When Diana had first arrived at Hogwarts, Hermione was so excited to get to know someone from another wizarding school that she even volunteered to show her around the castle. But Harry had approached her, asking if they could be introduced and she found herself disliking her more and more, until she completely avoided her.
You know I'm right, don't you?
But that doesn't prove anything about my feelings towards Harry.
You can keep denying it all you want, Hermione. When you're ready to accept it, you might be too late.
"Hermione?"
Hermione jumped from the couch she was sitting on and turned around to face the intruder. "Diana?"
"Hi. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."
"No, no, you didn't scare me. What are you doing up so late?"
"I was just about to go to sleep when I heard the portrait door open. I went down to see who it was. I didn't see you sitting on the couch."
"And I didn't hear you come in. We both should be getting back to bed."
"Actually, Hermione, I wanted to talk to you."
Diana sat down beside her, folding her hands neatly across her lap. "I wanted to ask you about Harry."
Hearing his name made Hermione flinch a little bit, but it thankfully went unnoticed. "What about Harry?"
"I'm sure you know by now that he's asked me out."
"Ye- no," Hermione lied.
"He told me that he was going to wake you up and thank you for your help."
"Oh."
Diana smiled. "I'm kind of glad you helped him along. I've been wanting to talk to him for a long time, but I'm always too afraid that I might come off as some adoring fan or a groupie." She stared long and hard at her hands. "I wanted to know if you could help me, the way you helped him."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, he told me all about you telling him how he should just be straightforward and honest, and I appreciated what you said to him. But, Hermione, I know nothing about Quidditch and that's one of the things he loves the most. And aside from the fact that he's worshipped the world over because he defeated You-Know-Who, I know absolutely nothing about him."
"So what do you want me to do?"
"I want you to tell me everything there is to know about him. Everything essential to his being who he is." She noticed Hermione's look of apprehension and her confidence began to waver. "It's too much to ask, I know. But I like Harry a lot, and I want it to seem like we have common interests. But if you don't want to do it."
Hermione sat quietly, wanting to disbelieve everything she's just heard. Has Diana Owens just asked her, Hermione Granger, for help? And not just any help. She's asking her to help her with Harry. Would she?
"Okay," Hermione said, but her thoughts were nagging at her.
What are you doing? You're helping her to actually GET Harry. Are you insane?
There's a method to this madness. If I help her, then I'll be sure that I really don't have any other feelings for Harry, other than friendship. Then maybe, I can learn to accept this whole Harry-Diana setup.
If you think so.
Hermione settled in. "So, what exactly do you want to know about the Famous Harry Potter?"
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
"You look tired," Ron commented that morning, drowning his plate of pancakes with maple syrup. He set down the syrup bottle with a thud and Hermione raised her head from the table.
"Not so loud, Ron," she muttered, rubbing her eyes open. She hadn't gotten a wink of sleep that evening and this morning. Diana had been insatiable, wanting to know every bit of information about Harry and Hermione had supplied her with it. Does he like ice cream? What flavor? Who is his favorite Quidditch team? What subject is he good at? Is he really a great Seeker, like the newspaper says he is? Or do they just say that because he's famous and all? I've never seen him play, you know.
"Weren't you able to go back to sleep after I woke you up?" Harry asked, concerned.
"No," Hermione yawned, reaching for Ron's glass of orange juice.
"Hey, that's mine!" Hermione gave him a glare and sipped from the glass before returning it.
"I went to the Common Room but I found Diana there instead of sleep. She had me talking all night."
"Talked about what?" Harry pressed, perking up upon hearing her name. Ron, it seems, perked up as well because he said, "You talked to Diana Owens?"
Hermione found herself feeling annoyed again with Diana. "What do you think we talked about, Harry? You, of course," she snapped. Unfortunately, the snap was lost on the two of them. Ron had stared at Harry as if he was Voldemort-incarnate and Harry had a wide, goofy grin on his face.
"What did you tell her?" Harry pressed even further.
"You're going out with Diana Owens, aren't you? You lucky son of a gun," Ron breathed.
Hermione felt her control snap. "You make her sound so special. She's not, you know. She's just a normal witch who just happens to be from the other side of the world and keeps people awake, asking questions about other people."
Ron frowned. "Man, Hermione, you really need to get some sleep. You need it. I mean, you're crankier than.well, than you usually are."
"No thanks to you two," she declared, standing up and walking away from the two of them, storming out of the Great Hall, leaving Harry and Ron gaping at her retreating back.
It was Ron who spoke first. "Do you think it's that time of the month again?"
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Hermione woke up feeling deliciously refreshed and relaxed. She stretched out her body under her pristine white sheets and sighed. She hadn't slept that peacefully in about seven years.
She sat up on her bed while her feet felt around for her slippers. Her stomach gave a tiny growl and that's when she noticed what time it was - it was a quarter past midnight! She hadn't eaten or drunk anything since that morning, not counting the sip of Ron's juice and she could feel another complaint from her stomach welling up inside her. Thinking of Ron's orange juice made her think of the way she had acted around her best friends that morning. They were right - she was crankier than usual, owing to her lack of sleep. But didn't she choose to lack her sleep time to help Diana?
Hermione shook her head as she stood up to grab her robe. She'll sneak into the kitchen and ask Dobby to give her some food to tide her over till the morning. She knew that the house-elf wouldn't mind. Ron and Harry often nicked food from him in the wee hours of the morning. And while she was at it, she'd sneak into the boys' dormitory as well. Neville, Seamus and Dean wouldn't be there as they'd left Hogwarts for the holidays. She'd apologize to Harry and Ron for her behavior that morning and maybe share her late- night dinner with them. Maybe.
The thought made her smile as she crept outside her portrait hole and made her way to the kitchen.
After several moments, Hermione was ascending the stairs to the Gryffindor Common Room, her arms laden with roast turkey, potatoes, peas and baked pheasant. Dobby was very pleased to see her that he had offered more than she could carry. She had politely declined his offer of baking her a cake for dessert but insisted that Winky clear the plates from her room in the morning. She could almost hear Ron's amazed gasp of happiness when he sees her. I've died and gone to heaven!
She could almost hear Harry, too, she realized as she neared the Common Room. In fact, she could hear him whispering something, but what it was she wasn't sure.
I'm hearing things, Hermione thought, leaving the last step. Her eyes adjusted to the dim light in the Common Room.
There it is again, she thought, the hairs on the back of her neck prickling. I swear I can hear Harry.
It was faint and Hermione strained to listen.
Ana.
What? Hermione gave herself a little shake and strained even close to hear.
Diana.
May I kiss you?
This time, Hermione heard perfectly and her eyes glanced up to the balcony that led to the girls' dormitory. Harry and Diana were standing there, facing each other and he was leaning toward her.
Hermione's heart began to pound hard inside her chest, she was afraid that she was going to burst. Every second that took for Harry to lean in, she matched with a small thought, No. Please no. Don't let him kiss her. Don't let him kiss her.
Don't let him kiss her.
Harry's mouth reached Diana's and Hermione felt her heart stop. Her eyes filled up with unexpected tears and she tried to breathe. Her thoughts were a jumble inside her head as the image of them kissing burned itself in her mind. She lost all her senses as the tray teetered precariously over her arm and fell with a noisy clatter on the floor. The couple jumped apart and Harry looked over the balcony to see who had interrupted them.
"Hermione?" he asked, his eyes surveying the mass surrounding her feet and the pained look in her eyes. "Hermione, what's wrong?"
But she couldn't answer him. Not now. Not after what she's seen. She turned on her heel and felt her way out of the Common Room.
Not her, Harry. Don't let it be her. Choose me. Kiss me.
Love me.
CHAPTER 2: JUST A FRIEND.
"YES!!!" Harry yelled triumphantly, jumping onto a sleeping Hermione's bed. "Yes! Yes! Yes!"
"Harry Potter," she croaked sleepily, pulling her covers up to her chest and murmuring for her bedside lamp to switch open. "Do you have any idea what time it is?"
"Yes, it's 2:47."
"In the morning!" Hermione cried. "Please, go away and let me sleep."
"No, you can't go to bed yet. I haven't properly thanked you for getting me with Diana."
Sleep forgotten, Hermione sat up with a start. "Getting you with who?" she pressed.
"Diana. I did everything you told me to do. I was straightforward and honest and we spent the whole evening talking in the common room."
"And this morning, too, by the look of it. What did you talk about?" Hermione wanted to know.
"Lots of things. Like, what the difference is between European magic and American magic, and how wizards are like where she's from and stuff like those. Plus, I've learned she's really into those indoor games like Twister and Wizard Chess and Gobstones."
"And did you confess that you were into more outdoor games like Quidditch?"
"Not really. She doesn't care for Quidditch very much. She says it's a violent game."
"Like wizard chess isn't violent," Hermione replied sarcastically. She stifled a yawn. The one season where she allowed herself to sleep in and Harry had to go wake her up. "Harry, can you just thank me and get it over with? I'd really like to go back to sleep."
"Right. Thanks for the help, Herm. I wouldn't have been able to get a date with her without you."
"Date? What date?" Hermione demanded.
"I invited her for a butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks tomorrow, actually it's tonight." Harry laughed at himself and Hermione felt herself being drained of energy. "I'll let you sleep now. Night. And thanks again, Hermione." Then, Harry disappeared behind the portrait hole.
Harry was going on a date. Harry Potter. Her Harry Potter was going out on a date - with no less than an American witch. The same American witch that made Hermione's blood boil just thinking about her.
"I can't believe this!" she cried angrily into the night, slipping on her robe to wallow in her thoughts at the common room.
"So much for a peaceful sleep," her mirror mumbled dreamily as Hermione stormed away.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
The Gryffindor common room was empty when Hermione stalked angrily inside. First things first, why was she so angry? Was she angry at Harry? No, her brain taunted her. You're angry at Diana Owens!
But why was I so angry with her? She hasn't done anything to me.
That's right. Why do you think you're angry at her?
I don't know! She just acts so flirty, like, she's Queen of Hogwarts or something.
Have you ever really seen her act like she was Queen of Hogwarts? And when did you ever see her flirt?
Those guys around her are an obvious enough reason.
Those guys like her because she's who you are minus the brown hair and sarcasm. She's a sweeter version of you. Add that to the fact that she's foreign.
Just because she's new. They wouldn't really like her if she was in her natural environment. And if she's just like me then why don't they ask me out? No, wait, don't tell me - Viktor.
Do you want all of them to ask you out?
Don't be silly. But if they were going to look for a substitute me anyway.
I think you're jealous.
Of what?
Because Harry's going out with Diana.
Why should I be jealous of Harry and Diana?
Because Harry's been yours all these years and now, someone's taking him from you. And you know that you don't want to let go.
Hermione paused. Part of her wanted to trash everything that her subconscious had just said. After all, talking (or thinking) to herself might end her up at the funny farm. But didn't our subconscious hold our deepest desires and secrets?
So.am I in love with Harry?
Just because I'm a little angry and confused doesn't mean I'm in love with him. Harry's my best friend, for crying out loud.
You're angry and confused because Harry's being taken away from you. Think about it - you only started not liking Diana when it was clear to you that Harry was taken with her.
Hermione stopped to ponder on the last statement before realizing that it was true. When Diana had first arrived at Hogwarts, Hermione was so excited to get to know someone from another wizarding school that she even volunteered to show her around the castle. But Harry had approached her, asking if they could be introduced and she found herself disliking her more and more, until she completely avoided her.
You know I'm right, don't you?
But that doesn't prove anything about my feelings towards Harry.
You can keep denying it all you want, Hermione. When you're ready to accept it, you might be too late.
"Hermione?"
Hermione jumped from the couch she was sitting on and turned around to face the intruder. "Diana?"
"Hi. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."
"No, no, you didn't scare me. What are you doing up so late?"
"I was just about to go to sleep when I heard the portrait door open. I went down to see who it was. I didn't see you sitting on the couch."
"And I didn't hear you come in. We both should be getting back to bed."
"Actually, Hermione, I wanted to talk to you."
Diana sat down beside her, folding her hands neatly across her lap. "I wanted to ask you about Harry."
Hearing his name made Hermione flinch a little bit, but it thankfully went unnoticed. "What about Harry?"
"I'm sure you know by now that he's asked me out."
"Ye- no," Hermione lied.
"He told me that he was going to wake you up and thank you for your help."
"Oh."
Diana smiled. "I'm kind of glad you helped him along. I've been wanting to talk to him for a long time, but I'm always too afraid that I might come off as some adoring fan or a groupie." She stared long and hard at her hands. "I wanted to know if you could help me, the way you helped him."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, he told me all about you telling him how he should just be straightforward and honest, and I appreciated what you said to him. But, Hermione, I know nothing about Quidditch and that's one of the things he loves the most. And aside from the fact that he's worshipped the world over because he defeated You-Know-Who, I know absolutely nothing about him."
"So what do you want me to do?"
"I want you to tell me everything there is to know about him. Everything essential to his being who he is." She noticed Hermione's look of apprehension and her confidence began to waver. "It's too much to ask, I know. But I like Harry a lot, and I want it to seem like we have common interests. But if you don't want to do it."
Hermione sat quietly, wanting to disbelieve everything she's just heard. Has Diana Owens just asked her, Hermione Granger, for help? And not just any help. She's asking her to help her with Harry. Would she?
"Okay," Hermione said, but her thoughts were nagging at her.
What are you doing? You're helping her to actually GET Harry. Are you insane?
There's a method to this madness. If I help her, then I'll be sure that I really don't have any other feelings for Harry, other than friendship. Then maybe, I can learn to accept this whole Harry-Diana setup.
If you think so.
Hermione settled in. "So, what exactly do you want to know about the Famous Harry Potter?"
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
"You look tired," Ron commented that morning, drowning his plate of pancakes with maple syrup. He set down the syrup bottle with a thud and Hermione raised her head from the table.
"Not so loud, Ron," she muttered, rubbing her eyes open. She hadn't gotten a wink of sleep that evening and this morning. Diana had been insatiable, wanting to know every bit of information about Harry and Hermione had supplied her with it. Does he like ice cream? What flavor? Who is his favorite Quidditch team? What subject is he good at? Is he really a great Seeker, like the newspaper says he is? Or do they just say that because he's famous and all? I've never seen him play, you know.
"Weren't you able to go back to sleep after I woke you up?" Harry asked, concerned.
"No," Hermione yawned, reaching for Ron's glass of orange juice.
"Hey, that's mine!" Hermione gave him a glare and sipped from the glass before returning it.
"I went to the Common Room but I found Diana there instead of sleep. She had me talking all night."
"Talked about what?" Harry pressed, perking up upon hearing her name. Ron, it seems, perked up as well because he said, "You talked to Diana Owens?"
Hermione found herself feeling annoyed again with Diana. "What do you think we talked about, Harry? You, of course," she snapped. Unfortunately, the snap was lost on the two of them. Ron had stared at Harry as if he was Voldemort-incarnate and Harry had a wide, goofy grin on his face.
"What did you tell her?" Harry pressed even further.
"You're going out with Diana Owens, aren't you? You lucky son of a gun," Ron breathed.
Hermione felt her control snap. "You make her sound so special. She's not, you know. She's just a normal witch who just happens to be from the other side of the world and keeps people awake, asking questions about other people."
Ron frowned. "Man, Hermione, you really need to get some sleep. You need it. I mean, you're crankier than.well, than you usually are."
"No thanks to you two," she declared, standing up and walking away from the two of them, storming out of the Great Hall, leaving Harry and Ron gaping at her retreating back.
It was Ron who spoke first. "Do you think it's that time of the month again?"
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
Hermione woke up feeling deliciously refreshed and relaxed. She stretched out her body under her pristine white sheets and sighed. She hadn't slept that peacefully in about seven years.
She sat up on her bed while her feet felt around for her slippers. Her stomach gave a tiny growl and that's when she noticed what time it was - it was a quarter past midnight! She hadn't eaten or drunk anything since that morning, not counting the sip of Ron's juice and she could feel another complaint from her stomach welling up inside her. Thinking of Ron's orange juice made her think of the way she had acted around her best friends that morning. They were right - she was crankier than usual, owing to her lack of sleep. But didn't she choose to lack her sleep time to help Diana?
Hermione shook her head as she stood up to grab her robe. She'll sneak into the kitchen and ask Dobby to give her some food to tide her over till the morning. She knew that the house-elf wouldn't mind. Ron and Harry often nicked food from him in the wee hours of the morning. And while she was at it, she'd sneak into the boys' dormitory as well. Neville, Seamus and Dean wouldn't be there as they'd left Hogwarts for the holidays. She'd apologize to Harry and Ron for her behavior that morning and maybe share her late- night dinner with them. Maybe.
The thought made her smile as she crept outside her portrait hole and made her way to the kitchen.
After several moments, Hermione was ascending the stairs to the Gryffindor Common Room, her arms laden with roast turkey, potatoes, peas and baked pheasant. Dobby was very pleased to see her that he had offered more than she could carry. She had politely declined his offer of baking her a cake for dessert but insisted that Winky clear the plates from her room in the morning. She could almost hear Ron's amazed gasp of happiness when he sees her. I've died and gone to heaven!
She could almost hear Harry, too, she realized as she neared the Common Room. In fact, she could hear him whispering something, but what it was she wasn't sure.
I'm hearing things, Hermione thought, leaving the last step. Her eyes adjusted to the dim light in the Common Room.
There it is again, she thought, the hairs on the back of her neck prickling. I swear I can hear Harry.
It was faint and Hermione strained to listen.
Ana.
What? Hermione gave herself a little shake and strained even close to hear.
Diana.
May I kiss you?
This time, Hermione heard perfectly and her eyes glanced up to the balcony that led to the girls' dormitory. Harry and Diana were standing there, facing each other and he was leaning toward her.
Hermione's heart began to pound hard inside her chest, she was afraid that she was going to burst. Every second that took for Harry to lean in, she matched with a small thought, No. Please no. Don't let him kiss her. Don't let him kiss her.
Don't let him kiss her.
Harry's mouth reached Diana's and Hermione felt her heart stop. Her eyes filled up with unexpected tears and she tried to breathe. Her thoughts were a jumble inside her head as the image of them kissing burned itself in her mind. She lost all her senses as the tray teetered precariously over her arm and fell with a noisy clatter on the floor. The couple jumped apart and Harry looked over the balcony to see who had interrupted them.
"Hermione?" he asked, his eyes surveying the mass surrounding her feet and the pained look in her eyes. "Hermione, what's wrong?"
But she couldn't answer him. Not now. Not after what she's seen. She turned on her heel and felt her way out of the Common Room.
Not her, Harry. Don't let it be her. Choose me. Kiss me.
Love me.