DISCLAIMER: This story has not been approved, licensed, or checked by J.K Rowling, or Warner Brothers Studios. The characters and places in this story belong entirely to J.K Rowling.

Chapter 1 Harry Potter looked over the rim of his glasses to where Hermione Granger was sitting at the Gryffindor table in Hogwarts. Hermione was laughing and talking with a friend. In the candlelight she looked bewitching. Her once bushy brown hair was now waist-long, silky and caramel coloured. Her brown eyes had turned golden, which Harry knew had not transformed with the help of magic. Harry's stomach flipped. Harry longed to be sitting where Hermione's friend was, and be laughing and talking with her. He and Hermione were still best friends, but somehow Harry knew that that fact that he had a major crush on her would not go down well. Suddenly, Harry was awakened from his thoughts. "Oi, Harry!" Ron was nudging him in the ribs. "What do you think about Malfoy and Parkinson, eh?" Harry looked up. At the Slytherin table, Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson were all over each other, their meals forgotten. Harry turned away in disgust. "So, whaddya think, Harry?" Harry allowed himself a grin. "Well, we knew it was coming all along." "Yeah." Harry looked back over to Hermione, but she had gone. Harry was vaguely aware of the fact that Ron was talking, but he wasn't catching any of it. ".so I said, well, Ginny, you want to act that way, fine! But-- hey, where are you going?" Harry pushed away his chair, ignoring Ron. He walked out of the Great Hall, towards Gryffindor tower, where he knew Hermione would be. He gave the password to the fat lad's portrait (tiddlywinks) and climbed in. Hermione was there, alone. She was sitting by herself by the fire. The light from the flames rested on her face, drawing out her profile. As she turned the page, a silky lock of hair fell over her face. She brushed it back with fine fingers. Harry felt his stomach turn. He found that he was suddenly incapable of moving. Harry moved towards her. When he heard him coming, Hermione marked her page and set it on her lap, and stared at it. To Harry's amazement, the book rose gently into the air, landing on a small table near them. It landed neatly on a pile of books. Hermione looked up at Harry, as though this remarkable display of power was totally normal. Harry decided it would be wise not to say anything. Hermione smiled up at him, and patted a chair near her. "Sit down, Harry." Hermione's voice wasn't the bright, nagging thing it had been when she was young and ugly. Her voice was soft, and fell on his ears in light, musical tones. Harry loved to hear it. "What's on your mind?" she asked quietly. Harry hesitated. Would tonight be the night that he told her how he felt? Looking at her again, Harry felt that familiar feeling in his stomach. He looked down at his hands. But this did not help. He stared directly into her eyes. They were pure gold, and they were clear and filled with light. Harry stuttered. "I-I." Hermione casually punched him on the shoulder. "Harry! Come on, open up. What is it? It can't be that bad." That bad? Yeah, it's bad, thought Harry. It's bad enough that it could threaten our relationship. How would you feel if I told you I have a huge crush on you, I feel funny whenever I'm near you, and that I can't stand not to be near you? Looking into those beautiful golden eyes, Harry found himself lost for words. He shook himself. Would tonight be the night?arryHarrhHarry