A/N: My realtives will be here any minute. grumbles So I may not be online for awhile, which is why this update was, once again, so fast. No Ron quite yet, everyone calm down. He'll be in the next chapter.
When Hermione pulled into the parking lot of the mall, Harry pitched such a fit, declaring loudly that it was the most pathetic, preppy excuse for a mall he'd ever seen, that they left and ended up nearly forty miles away, in a nearby city. After wandering around for a half an hour looking for a different mall, they finally found one Harry was satisfied with and decided to give it a go.
"Here, Mione," Harry said, looking a little sheepish as he handed her some cash. "That's for all the gas we wasted because I'm so picky."
Hermione tried to shove the money back into Harry's hand, hoping not to make a scene as they entered the mall. "It's okay," she assured him, "my parents give me plenty of spending money and I've been saving it up for a long time."
Harry smiled and forcefully plunged the money into her purse. "You'll need all the money you can get for the shopping trip I have planned for today!" Hermione gave up.
For the next three hours, Harry rejected every store Hermione tried to go into. The shops he chose were full of people dressed like him, loud music, and dim atmospheres. She was surprised to find that she liked every one, and the sales clerks all responded beautifully to Harry's accent.
The first place they went into was called The Buzz. Hermione shied away from the black clothing, however. Harry regarded her critically. "Hmm," he murmured, lost in thought, circling her. She shifted nervously and jumped when he clapped his hands sharply. "First of all," he began, "we need to get you something form-fitting." He plucked at her baggy brown sweater disdainfully. "You have a lovely shape, and you hide it with this shit? You need something that emphasizes your waist and chest, and these long legs." Hermione blushed furiously as he continued. "Since you don't seem to be fond of all of these dark colors, how about we try some blues and greens, maybe a little pink…something that fits your personality as well as your body…"
Not exactly a die-hard shopper in the best of circumstances, Hermione suffered through hours of Harry forcing her to try on a multitude of clothing. He seemed inclined towards collections of what Hermione thought of as "business funk", and she had to admit, she loved everything he picked out for her, though the tight button-up vests and slim trousers he chose nearly every time made her a little self-conscious. She had never been quite so aware of her curves.
At the Height of Fashion Hair Salon, she forked out a great sum of money to get her hair professionally straightened and streaked with blond highlights to bring out her natural golden complexion. When she saw the finished product, she burst into tears and Harry danced around her anxiously while the hair dresser looked on in horror.
"You don't like it?" her new friend inquired, wringing his hands. "Why don't you like? I love it! I'm sorry, Mione, I just thought you'd—"
"Oh, Harry, shut up!" she sobbed uncontrollably. "I love it, I adore it! I just…I've never felt so beautiful! Thank you so much!" She broke down and Harry spent twenty minutes consoling her before she could calm down again.
At the end of their shopping, Hermione had six bags worth of clothes, accessories, hair products, and make up, and she had spent nearly everything she'd had. They loaded the Jeep and headed back to town. She kept touching her hair obsessively and smiling through occasional bouts of crying.
It was five o'clock, and the Dursleys' car was still not in the driveway. When Hermione invited Harry to dinner, he accepted gratefully. Hermione's mother was home early from work.
"Hermy!" she called when she heard her daughter come in. "Your father's working an extra shift at the office but I made the two of us some pasta and—oh, umm. Hello," Mrs. Granger said with surprise when she turned around only to see a thin, strange-looking boy standing next to her child. They were both laden down with shopping bags, and Hermione looked nervous.
"Mom, this is Harry," she said, "the boy I was telling you about."
Mrs. Granger tried not to stare at Harry's piercings or his hair and smiled warmly. "Hello, Harry," she greeted, drying her hands on a dishtowel and offering one when she was finished. Harry shook it quickly and smiled back. His lip ring glinted in the kitchen's fluorescent lighting. "Will you be staying for dinner?"
"If it's not too much trouble, Mrs. Granger."
"Please, call me Beth." Suddenly, her attention was captured by Hermione's sleek, shining hair. "Oh, sweetheart, you look absolutely stunning!" she gushed, rushing over to touch the pin-straight locks. Her daughter smiled beatifically.
"Harry persuaded me to do it. You really like it?"
"I love it. What did you buy?"
"Oh, that's Harry's doing too. He took me shopping and helped me pick out a few things."
Harry didn't miss the doubtful and slightly frightened look Mrs. Granger threw his way. He bit back a chuckle.
"I'll show you what I got when dinner's over, okay? Harry and I are going to go hang out in my room, so just call us when dinner's ready." Hermione's voice faded as she thundered up the stairs, but Harry hesitated in the doorway.
"Need any help?" he offered.
Mrs. Granger shook her head. "No, I've got it under control, but thank you, Harry." Nodding, he followed Hermione upstairs. Mrs. Granger's brow creased when she heard him reach the landing.
"Leave your door open, Hermione!" she called up after them.
She didn't understand when peals of laughter erupted from her daughter's room.
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Upon arriving home from work last night, Hermione's mother had gotten an ear full about the new boy next door: his name was Harry Potter, and they had gone to the Java Hut, where Harry had defended her against another boy who had been making hurtful remarks. Other than that, Bethany Granger knew next to nothing about Harry Potter, other than he was the first person her daughter had ever brought home for something that wasn't a school project. And he made Hermione very happy.
That night at dinner, however, she learned a great deal about the boy next door.
"So, Harry," she began conversationally as she passed him the mashed potatoes. "You're from England?"
Harry nodded. "Yes. Little Whinging, in Surrey. My uncle got transferred here. He works for Grunnings, a drill company," he volunteered, spooning the potatoes onto his plate in a small mountain.
Mrs. Granger brightened. "Oh, the main industry in this town is Grunnings. In fact, both I and my husband Herb work there. I'm a secretary and Herb is a computer tech. What does your uncle do for them?"
Harry frowned. "Actually, I…I don't really know. A desk job with a lot of paperwork. He doesn't like to talk to—I mean, he doesn't talk about it much."
Hermione's mother took note of Harry's slip-up but refrained from comment. "What's his name? Maybe I've met him."
Harry's eyes began to darken. Hermione noticed and flinched.
"Vernon Dursley."
"Oh, the new manager! I've seen him around. He's in charge of a lot of people, your uncle."
Harry smiled, but around the edges of the grin was a trace of bitterness. "Ordering people about is what he does best," he said.
Mrs. Granger laughed at what she thought was a joke. "Then he's at the right job—there's a lot of ordering to be done in Grunnings. Where are your parents, Harry?"
Silence fell like a lead weight.
After a moment, she cleared her throat, looking apologetic. "I'm…I'm sorry, I didn't mean any offense."
Harry shifted in his chair. "No, it's okay, Mrs. Granger. They died when I was a baby, in a car accident. I've been with my relatives for virtually my whole life." Unconsciously, his hand slid beneath his tousled bangs and touched something, an action that went unnoticed by the Grangers.
Hermione looked at her mother warningly, and the rest of the dinner was spent talking about safe, inconsequential things.
At seven, Hermione accompanied Harry outside so he could smoke. The night air was chill and breezy, and they stood for a few minutes in companionable silence until Hermione felt compelled to speak. "School tomorrow," she said. "Will you be starting?"
Harry nodded. "I'm a little nervous, truth be told."
Hermione laughed. "You? Nervous? Now that's something I didn't expect to hear. I, on the other hand, am a nervous wreck." She touched her hair idly and thought about the clothes waiting to be put away in her room. "I don't think people will even recognize me."
Harry smiled into the darkness. "They'll be knocked flat, love. D'you mind if I come over in the morning and help you get ready?"
"I'd be eternally grateful!"
"Good," chuckled Harry, "because I would've come if you said no, anyway." His eyes focused on the glow of headlights coming down the street. Vernon's car pulled into the driveway next door. "Shit," Harry hissed, stubbing out his cigarette on the concrete. "I've got to go," he whispered urgently. "Tell your mum I said thanks for the great dinner." And before Hermione could even process what had happened, Harry had disappeared into the bushes. A heartbeat later he reappeared in his yard and began to scale the lattice work that led up the side of the house, moving as gracefully as a spider monkey. Hermione watched as he jimmied the window and crawled inside, confused.
She stood on her porch, observing. The man named Vernon and his wife and son got out of the car and went inside. A few seconds of silence passed, and then the large man's bellow of "Boy! Get your arse down here! Didn't I tell you that this wasn't to be put here?! You're such a damn—" and the rest was lost as the front door slammed shut.
Hermione shivered, suddenly so much colder than the weather warranted.
A/N: Well, here we are. Should this whole thing be centered around Christmas? There could be a Christmas party or something...Ah, I don't know. My toes hurt >.
Response for the Reviews:
carolinej: Don't worry--though Hermione's appearance is changing, she'll still be the sweet, shy fumbling girl she's been all along. Thanks for reviewing!
oracale: Love you for loving it.
dea puella: Lol, chill. Ron hasn't even entered the story yet. I'm glad you're enjoying this, though!
Hawkenten: More fast updates, woo! Thank you for your kind words, as always. (You're one of my favorite reviewers! But shh! Don't tell anyone )
Sezza Ridka: Hermione, being the intelligent girl she is, WILL work it out, and yes, Harry will get his revenge. Remember that little hidden rage thing he has? That will play heavily into the story later, I think. Thanks!
ShatteredxDream: Thank you!
Draco23Luver: You don't have to wait for more, because here it is!
BehindGreenEyes: I do have a tendency to update fast. I get so caught up with all these reviews, and I love to write...so here you are! Thanks!
Faren'sFowl: Thank you I'm fond of that line, too...
iced-frost: Why, thank you. I am a whole hearted believer in good grammar.
No longer a member: Umm...is that a screen name...or...are you no longer a member? >.O Thanks...
magic-shield: grins That's exactly how it is. Thanks for the review!
Mistress Vamp: Ta da, and thank you!
TeeDee: Ron's a'comin' in the next chapter. Thanks for reviewing!
Angels Whisper: Smile away, darling, because here's another chapter for your viewing pleasure.
A/N: Oh, gosh, I'm so sorry that I didn't get to the rest of the reviews yet, but my relatives are here and I really have to go! I'll finish my responses in the next chapter, and once again, I am SO SORRY!