A/N: Thank you for all your reviews. I was definitely motivated to write and post the next chapter. I wasn't too sure exactly how Hogwarts grade their students. I know there is a standard scale for the NEWTs, so for the purposes of this story, I'm sticking with the ABC system. Personally, I think this has been my favorite scene. Hope you enjoy, and please keep those reviews coming!

The Best Things in Life Are Free

Months later…

It was close to the end of the semester at Hogwarts, and the Great Hall was buzzing with student activity. With the final match of the House Cup approaching, the professors had the unpleasant task of calculating and preparing the current progress reports for each class. The Hogwarts school policy mandates that in order to play, Quidditch players must pass every class without exception. The students were gathering around the head table, where grades were laid out in accordance to their subject matter, each hoping and anxiously waiting to see how they stand academically.

"Come on, break it up," Oliver said as he and Dean shoved his way through the crowd of students surrounding the head table, "We have a match coming up!"

Approaching the table, he quickly scans off the lists, "Potter, Potter…oh, here it is," he began reading aloud, "D in Charms. D in Herbology. D in Divination. C in Care of Magical Creatures. D in Potions. C in Defense Against The Dark Arts. D in Transfiguration," he finished. "Why I don't get it," said Oliver turning to Dean, "he's never gotten these kinds of marks before."

"He hasn't been studying," Dean explained, "This Chang girl has been leading him by the nose."

"Well he just about made it," said Oliver, "But, wait, what about the French marks?"

"They're not posted yet," Dean replied.

Ron emerged from the crowd of students and made his way beside them, "Hey Oliver," he announced cheerfully, "I passed everything! Guess I'll play the final match on Saturday."

"Ron, you're a genius," Oliver responded, slightly relieved his second best player was eligible, "All we have to do now is worry about Harry. Where is he?"

Just then, Ginny strolled into the Great Hall.

"Hey Ginny!" Lavender called out to her from the entrance, "You passed everything!"

"I did?" Ginny gave a gleeful squeal and raced over to Dean who was still standing by the head table. "Dean! Dean!" she grabbed a hold his robe excitedly, unaware that her brother was nearby, "I told you last night I'd pass!"

Ron swooped in, glaring straight into his sister's eyes, "Hey, did you see him last night?" he bellowed menacingly.

"Hey look!" Dean cried out, hoping to slip out of this confrontation, "Here comes Harry!"

"Hello, kids," Harry announced as he and Cho, hand in hand, sauntered down the great hall, "Here I is!"

"Darling, it's 'hear I am,'" Cho corrected.

"It's only a slang expression," Harry chuckled.

"But darling," she said in a condescending tone of voice, "I don't like you to speak badly."

"Okay, darling," he responded, trying to appease her. Reaching to the front, Harry spotted his coach standing near the head table, "Hi Oliver," he greeted.

"Hello darling," Oliver replied in subtle mockery.

"Well, do I play the final match on Saturday?" he asked.

"Yes, you passed everything," Oliver said with his arms crossed, "But..."

"What do you mean 'but'?"

"The French marks aren't up yet," Oliver told him tentatively.

"Now coach, you're not going to worry about that. My best subject," Harry proclaimed confidently, "Saturday's my big day. We're going to take the Slytherin team and mop up the pitch with them."

"I hope so," said Oliver.

"And don't forget," Cho added, "Saturday's a big day for another reason too."

"Huh?" Harry tilted his head curiously.

Cho covertly pointed to her finger, "Don't you remember?"

Harry glanced upon the ring he was forced to buy for her on their last Hogsmeade trip. Unbeknownst to him until it was too late, the ring was enchanted with a marriage bond charm, a promise to marry whomever it was given to by the giver. The powerful spell can only be broken if and only if the wearer voluntary returns it to the giver.

"Oh yeah, sure," he replied casually, almost flinching at the sight of it.

"Well, shall we tell everybody?" Cho asked.

"Yes," Harry answered almost indifferently, "Yes, why not?"

"Listen everybody!" she announced excitedly to the students around them, "Saturday, after Harry wins the cup…" she paused, and turned back to him, unable to contain her enthusiasm, "You tell them, Harry."

"Er..um," Harry looked around at the students, now giving him their undivided attention, "All I want to say, that umm," he began awkwardly, " ..that is..after the final match on Saturday…" His eyes stopped dead upon Hermione entering the Great Hall. Hermione stopped as well. Her cold stare almost froze him off his tracks. He looked away, taking a split second to compose himself before continuing, "…Cho and I are going to announce our engagement."

The students around him cheered, taking turns in congratulating the couple.

Without a word, Hermione Granger marched up passed them over to the head table, set the parchment down with the results of Professor Vector's class and left the Great Hall.

Oliver, Harry and the other students gathered anxiously around the parchment.

"Merlin!" Oliver yelled

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"F!" he answered.

The Gryffindor students responded with a series of groan.

"They can't do this to me!" Harry cried out.

"Can't?" Oliver repeated, pointing down to his grade, "They did!"

A defeated Harry lowered his head in disappointment, "Well, that's that."

"What do you mean that's that?" Oliver nearly screamed, "We have to do something! You've got to play on Saturday!" He thought for a moment and snapped his fingers, "I've got it! Dumbledore!"

With that, Oliver and Harry dashed over to the Headmaster's office to plead their case.

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Dean, Ginny, Ron and a crowd of Gryffindors waited eagerly outside of Dumbledore's office for the verdict. After almost an hour of negotiations, Oliver and Harry reappeared from the office. The caravan of Gryffindors followed the two of them as they raced over to Professor Vector's office. Oliver rapped on the door gently.

"Come in," said the voice from inside.

Oliver speedily opened the door, and entered, followed by Harry and everyone else.

Hermione was sitting at Professor Vector's desk, busy grading a stack of essays.

"Ms. Granger," Oliver began, "Professor Dumbledore and Professor Vector have decided to give Mr. Potter a re-examination in French tomorrow afternoon."

"How nice of them," Hermione replied indifferently without taking her eyes off her task.

"Well, when can you start tutoring him?" he asked.

Hermione looked up surprised, "Me?"

"Yes, you," Oliver answered, "Potter tells me you're the best."

"Tell Mr. Potter I thank him for the compliment, but I'm much too busy" she responded callously, refusing to acknowledge Harry standing beside her, "Tell him to ask Miss Chang." Hermione resumed her work.

"Look, Hermione, I don't want them to bother you," Harry pleaded, "Cho spoke French when she was a child, but she's not up on her grammar and I--- "

Hermione interrupted before he could finish, "Tell Mr. Potter, 'Quel fromage.'"

"Listen Miss Granger," Oliver tried again, "I don't care what you think about Potter personally, but that match next Saturday is a dead duck without him."

The students all murmured in agreement.

Hermione glared at him, "I don't really care if Mr. Potter plays or not," she said tersely.

"You don't?"

"You mean, you're willing to lose the match for our house?" Dean said in disbelief.

Ginny patted Hermione gently on the shoulder, "I know how you feel Mione," she said, "but you've got no choice. You'll be letting all of us down."

"It's for dear old Gryffindor," Dean reasoned.

"You have to do something," a few students cried out.

Hermione scanned the fretful faces of her housemates around her desk. "All right," she sighed in defeat, "for dear old Gryffindor."

At the sound of this, all the students cheered happily.

"Tell Mr. Potter I'll meet him at the Girls' Gryffindor House at 8:00 tonight," she instructed, still not acknowledging Harry's existence, "In the kitchen."

Oliver nodded appreciatively before he and the rest of the students poured out of the office. Harry remained hanging by her desk, trying to catch her eye.

"Thanks Hermione," he frowned as she continued to ignore him. With great reluctance, Harry left the office.

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That night at the Gryffindor house, things went on as usual. A few students were gathered around, lightheartedly chatting and listening to the old phonograph player in the living room. Meanwhile in the kitchen, things could not be anymore businesslike as Hermione sat down with Harry, helping him prepare for his re-examination tomorrow. The entire hope of the Gryffindor team winning the house cup this year rested solely on this grade.

The music in the living room could be heard ever so softly from the kitchen table. Unfortunately, that was the only thing relaxing about the atmosphere.

"Now, name the verbs that take etre in stead of avoir," she quizzed him.

Harry racked his brain, "Aller….tomber,….sortir….partir….venir…." he rubbed his forehead in frustration ,"I can't think anymore."

"That's hardly the right attitude, Mr. Potter," Hermione reproached sternly, "You have an exam to pass."

"Yes, yes, I know," he stared down at his book.

"Look, Professor Vector is devoting her time to giving you this chance," she added, "and I'm giving up my time. The least you can do is concentrate."

"But I keep thinking of so many other things," Harry replied, looking up at her. It was the first time he managed to catch of glimpse of her eyes all night. "Oh, Hermione, won't you even talk to me?"

Hermione turned away, clumsily flipping the pages of her book and scribbling into her notepad; "You were doing splendidly with those verbs, Mr. Potter. Would you try them again please?"

"Okay," Harry sighed, "Aller….tomber,….sortir….partir….venir…"

Meanwhile, in the next room, a familiar tune begins to play on the phonograph.

The moon belongs to everyone,

The best things in life are free,

The stars belong to everyone,

They gleam there, for you and me.

The flowers in spring,

The robins that sing,

The sunbeams that shine,

They're yours

They're mine.

And love can come to everyone,

The best things in life are free.

As they listened, Hermione paused her scribbling, and stole a glance at the boy next to her. Sensing her, Harry looked up from his book as well. They gazed at each other for only a second, but it seemed like an eternity. Harry realized for the first time what he saw in those eyes. He felt a slight jab in his heart as he recognized the pain he had cause. That certain spark, her cheerful disposition from the first time they met. All gone. Hermione quickly broke eye contact and returned to her notepad. Harry looked down at his book again.

The flowers in spring,

The robins that sing,

The sunbeams that shine…

The song in the background and the silence between them was almost unbearable. Unable to concentrate, the two simultaneously turned to each other. Harry was the first to speak.

"Oh Hermione, you've got to let me say I'm sorry," he pleaded once again, "You haven't even talked to me in months."

"There's nothing to talk about," Hermione replied, fidgeting with the end of her quill, "You've…you'd better study, because if you study, you'll play, and if you play, you'll win…" She stabbed her quill into her notepad, "When you win, you'll be engaged to Cho. Isn't that what you want?"

"Yeah….sure," Harry answered hesitantly without emotion, as if someone just asked him if he preferred chicken or fish with his meal, "That's…what I want." He rested his hands on the table.

"Well, you better finish that translation, and then we'll be through for the night," she told him.

Harry picked up his quill and started to write in his own book.

The best things in life,

The best things in life…

Hermione stopped writing. The song hypnotized her and she stared off into space. Her trance broke off at the sound of Harry's voice, serenading to her along with the music.

La lune, c'est a tout le monde

On n'a pas besoin d'argent

Hermione looked down, desperately trying to avoid Harry's piercing eyes. But Harry inched closer and tenderly grabbed her arm on the table. She tensed for an instant, but did not pull away. Instead, she met his gaze. He caressed his fingers along her arm ever so gently.

Le ciel, c'est la pour tout le monde

On n'a pas besoin d'argent

Tightening his grip, he pulled himself closer to her, wrapping his other arm around her shoulder. Not once did he take his eyes off her.

Les fleurs de printemps

Les oiseaux qui chantent

Ces belles choses sont tout

Pour moi

Pour vous

Hermione found herself drawn to him. Their faces are now just inches apart. But then, refusing to lose control, she turned her cheek. But Harry moved in closer, his own cheek touching hers.

And love, can come to everyone

The best things in life are free.

Hermione turned and faced him. Harry smiled. He leaned forward, wanting so badly to kiss her. Hermione knew her heart wanted the same thing. Their lips barely grazed each other before her mind told her to pull her back.

Harry was still holding onto her arm, "How am I doing?" he asked softly.

"Oh, just a few mistakes," she replied, looking at one of his papers.

"Mistakes," he repeated glumly, leaning back on his chair, "I've made one after another. Starting with breaking that date with you."

Hermione stood up and started stacking her books off the table, "Oh that was no mistake," she replied, "You got what you wanted."

"Yeah, I guess so," said Harry. He stood up to help her, "Gee, it's funny to think about being engaged," he pondered for a minute, "I wonder what it's like to be stuck with one person for life."

Hermione let out a weak chuckle, "If it were the right person, you wouldn't considered yourself stuck."

"Well, I didn't exactly mean 'stuck,'" he sat down on the edge of the now cleared table, "I mean well….do you ever think about yourself after Hogwarts? Settled down? Married?"

"Of course," she answered, "I guess every girl has a pretty good idea of what she wants."

"Oh yeah?" Harry posed, "What do you want?"

Hermione stopped to think, "Oh, I guess I'd like to have a family to bring up…and be able to go to concerts and theatres, balcony seats," she produced a dreamy smile, "…and have people over to the house, a nice little house."

"A vine covered cottage perhaps?" Harry suggested.

"Or a flat," she looked down at the table, "I guess the important thing is finding the right person." Hermione blushed, "It sounds pretty dull to you, doesn't it?"

"No," Harry shook his head, "On the contrary, it sounds wonderful."

Hermione rested her arms on top of the stack of books and asked him, "What do you want?"

"Well, I guess--- " But before he could say anything else, the door of the kitchen abruptly swung open.

"Hello," Cho entered.

Harry quickly got to his feet, "Cho."

"Just dropped in to see how the lesson is progressing," she told them.

"The patient will live," Hermione responded.

With her arms crossed, Cho eyed the two of them suspiciously, "I didn't know a French lesson included singing love songs."

"You were listening," Hermione said, unable to hide the spiteful expression on her face.

Harry remained silent and proceeded to gather up the rest of his things.

"I heard Harry's voice, and I naturally thought he was singing for me," Cho replied with a smirk, "I need hardly remind you that we're practically engaged." She glared at Hermione in contempt, "Making a play for a practically engaged man is a very unladylike thing to do."

Hermione picked up the stack of books from the table, "So is listening at keyholes," she retorted, heading towards the door.

"Why you—" Cho started to say.

"Oh don't worry Cho," Hermione interjected, her eyes now filled with tears, "Tomorrow Harry will get every one of those answers right because he loves you. Even if he didn't, I wouldn't want him. I wouldn't want him if he were the last man at Hogwarts!" Fuming, her emotions got the best of her. She added, "You picked the perfect mate for yourself. He's inconsiderate, vain, selfish and you can't believe a word he says! And the same goes for you! You deserve to be stuck with each other! Congratulations!" she yelled sardonically, "I know you'll both be very happy!" With that said, Hermione ran off.

A/N: Ah, so close, and yet, so far. Please remember to review.