Disclaimer: If I actually owned this stuff, would I be hanging around here? No. I'd be off spending my heaps of money.

A/N: Ah hem….Hi? Yeah, yeah, I know…I've been away for awhile, even started a new story, but what can I say? I'm a busy girl ;). Not to mention, that I've been sucked into a new fandom. Now, let's see… Each chapter is going to equal one summer. The month's thing even confused me! Oh, and, to all who got back their first report cards for the year, I hope you were as pleased with your grades as I was with mine- 8th in my class out of 139, baby. Now, for all who got through this boring note, I award you with a cookie! And my update….

Chapter Six: Truces and Truths

-Ravenclaw Castle-

Plates. They could hold any number of things from sweet sugary sauces drizzled on mouth-watering desserts, to dull, dry pieces of burnt toast sans butter and jam. The plates could be made of various things, silver, ceramics, glass, gold…The list of possible combinations were endless. One of the most expensive plates in all the lands was one made of pure, shining diamond, and was currently playing host to the slippery, and slightly slimy, pink tongue of eleven-year-old Hermione Granger.

"Little Miss should not be being in here!" A squeaky, high-pitched voice broke out. The voice belonged to a tiny creature, with green leaf-like waxy skin.

"Oh, calm down, Winky." The young brunette muttered, "There are a few, special instances when a Princess has a right to sit on her own table in her own kitchen, and lick chocolate sauce off her own diamond plates."

"Little Miss is going to be cutting her own tongue." The house-elf retorted. "Is Winky's job to make sure Little Miss is behaving like a Little Miss should!"

Hermione clucked her tongue- free of all cuts, thank you very much! - against the roof of her mouth and continued to swing her legs back and forth from where she sat on top of the wooden table. On the bright side, the little elf was showing some assertiveness- something necessary in Hermione's plight to free the elves. But, she just didn't understand.

"Now, as I was saying, Winky, there are a number of times a girl can do this sort of thing. One, being, of course, that you are being forced to spend your summer in the company of a monstrous pest. Then, there's marrying someone you hate, being forced to dance the hokey-pokey at your tenth birthday- in front of all your friends no less!- and of course, eating your broccoli. That last one's a big one."

Hoping off the table, Hermione dropped the plate into the sink, causing an amazingly loud clatter, and moved around the kitchen, observing the tiny creatures at work. They moved about in tea towels and pillowcases marked with the Ravenclaw crest. Tables were pushed up against the plain white colored walls, and the delicate tiling from the Great Hall upstairs greatly outshined the plain, cracked grey tiles on the floor of this room. Pots and pans banged, concoctions stewing in the ovens and on the stovetops hissed and bubbled, spraying their contents over the counter. All in all, it was a busy place, just what Hermione had counted on.

You see, she wasn't just there to be lectured on her eating habits, oh no. She had been calculating and planning for the last year. The perfect scheme was often overlooked, and Hermione wouldn't miss her chance to come out as the winner this summer.

Sneaking towards the corner, she began searching the vast cupboards for the correct ingredients. The spices and herbs were all here, in separate bowels sorted by the elves and gardeners that had picked them freshly this morning. Scanning the labels, she bent her head further into the cabinet, and dug her hands into a bowel of mushrooms. These mushrooms were slightly different from the others, a bit greyer, and rounder on the tops. Counting out four, she slipped out and moved to the next set of spices. Cinnamon sticks, some vanilla beans, and a handful of ground pepper later, Hermione had pulled herself out of the cabinet fully, and stood.

Snatching an empty basket, she dumped the four tiny satchels she'd dropped the ingredients into inside the container. Swinging the basket back and forth casually, Hermione left the bustling kitchen and headed for the hallway. Oh yes, she would be the champion this round.

She sighed heavily. Another summer, another prank-filled nightmare. She was getting quite tired of this. 'Oh well,' she mused to herself, 'If I don't put him in his place, no one will!' As she strolled lazily through the hallways, she spotted a red blur.

Ronald Weasley was hurriedly jogging through the corridors at a pace that suggested he was a man- or, well, boy- on a mission. The boy clutched a crumpled piece of parchment in his hands, and Hermione smirked. Stepping casually into his path, she waited for the fact to register in his mind. He would stop abruptly, and complain about her sudden movement. Only, this time Hermione's careful planning didn't work. Instead, Ron rammed into her, full speed ahead.

Ron was by no means a small boy. At ten, he was the average height of a thirteen year old. Hermione, it seemed, was quite the opposite. Sure, she grew regularly, just not much. Her freckles were dissipating, showing that despite her short stature, she was maturing into a young adult- or soon would be, anyway.

Ron barely blinked at the impact. Hermione, however, let out a shrill cry, and landed on the floor, sprawled out across the ground. Her bushy shoulder length(thanks to a certain green-eyed prince and his torch) brown hair spilled out across the pink, white and black hues of cold marble, and her play-skirts in their harsh, grey coarseness had folded up and twisted, revealing the white tights she'd put on this morning.

The small purple velvet bags of ingredients were all over the place, one on top of Hermione's face, the others rolling around the corridor. Unfortunately that small purple bag on her face contained pepper. She had a highly sensitive nose, and her allergies would kick in just about…

ACHOOOOO! ACHOO ACHOO ACHOO!

Hermione managed to compose herself after the sneeze attack, and slowly gathered the other bags and the basket, which was lazily bumping against the tall column to her left. She was angry. No way was Ron getting away with knocking her on her backside.

"HEY!" She roared out at him.

"Hey, yourself. Next time, don't step in front of me!"

Hermione let out a small 'Hmpf' and stood, with Ron's help. She wasn't happy, and her skirts would have to be changed and washed if she was to leave in them. They were what she used to travel in, due to the swirling dirt and grime that sometimes made their way into the expensive carriages. It wouldn't do if they were dirty to begin with.

"Where've you been? I got the note an hour ago, and have been sitting in the library- of all places- for a half an hour!"

It would just figure he'd have been late, anyway. Hermione brushed off her dress, and glared at Ron. While she had been gathering ingredients, Ron was probably off gallivanting with…with…with whoever else it was he hung out with.

"Well, I knew you'd probably be late anyway," He grunted at this, "So I went and started without you. Now, you're going to come with me, and get the rest of this stuff." Hermione grabbed Ron's arm and began to yank him out of the castle doors and into the courtyards.

It was a lovely day, the sun shining its warm rays on lush green leaves with tropical and exotic birds shrieking and calling out as they cleaned their glossy feathers. Bright vegetation in varying shades of blue, pink, purple, yellow, white and red burst out from buds into flowers, petals sending out sweet summer scents. A waterfall surrounded by curling branches and vines babbled and splashed against rows of blue-grey rocks, and the canopy of green trees kept a shady area where courtiers often sat on given benches for a chat.

Hermione ignored this entire splendor, and continued to pull on Ron's arm.

"Hey now, Herms, you're not taking me on another wild goose chase, searching for the blasted legendary metal-hating niffler again, are you? Because, come on, there is no such thing! All nifflers love metal, and…"

"Shut up, Ron! We're getting ingredients for my truth speaking potion."

"Oh, in that case…Wait! You don't even take magic lessons. They start this September."

"So? I know enough. Now, you'll need to grab that lavender, it's the one with the thin, purple blossoms on it. That and the mushrooms will work to get him under my spell. They're aphrodisiacs, you know."

Ron sputtered at this. "You know what those are for, don't you? They make people wanna have-"

"Ronald Weasley! Finish that sentence and die! Not that kind, you dolt. There are two kinds- one, for potions, which helps people be a little more obedient if you will, and the others, well, you know."

The eleven-year-old children continued to gather the elements, dropping them in the basket. Harry Potter would rue the day he set Hermione Granger's hair on fire, rue it!

-In The Ravenclaw Carriage-

The rickety carriage bobbled back and forth, jostling the passengers inside. The velvet cushions were little protection against the harsh cobblestone street, and the long trip hadn't been a pleasurable one. Princess Hermione sat between her father, King David, and the burly looking gamekeeper named Hagrid. He was so large, with his bushy brown beard that even while slouching his forehead touched the roof. On her lap sat the basket, step three in her little plot completed.

"Wha' d'yeh got there, Princess 'ermione?" The gamekeeper asked.

"Oh, nothing. Just a few muffins for Prince Harry." Hermione explained, lifting the corner of the blue and white checkered blanket to reveal three fluffy muffins. "My own special recipe, if you will." It was hard to keep her lips from curling over her large front teeth in a wicked smirk.

"Now Hermione! How sweet of you, dear!" The familiar motherly voice of her Nanny Molly cooed from the carriage seat across from her.

"Yes, my Hermione, you're becoming much more mature. Ending this...this…prank war, is necessary." King David said, nodding brightly.

As the carriage pulled to a halt, young Hermione was starting to feel guilty. Her father, her nanny, even the gamekeeper expected better of her. Should she just give up? Leave such a well-though out plan go to waste? No. She wouldn't do that to Ron, who had helped her so many times, and no to herself, either.

Hopping her way out of the carriage with the help of Hagrid's sturdy form, Hermione took in the familiar sight of Gryffindor castle. The black glassy water of the lake, the shiny stone of the perpetually clean castle, and the polished wooden doors, all an unwelcome memorable in her head.

"Hello, Princess Hermione." A voice growled out coldly through a set of white teeth.

"Prince Harry." She called back, shrilly, doing her usual curtsy in reply to his formal bow.

The courtiers pranced about, calling out greetings and pretending to know and care for the royals. It was all so boring. Searching through the crowd, Hermione found Ron's lanky figure, and pulled him out of the crowd and up towards the steps.

"Alright. Now, all we need is one more ingredient, and they're done. I can search the courtyards tonight, if you can too." Hermione hissed in his freckled ear.

"Hermione, you're talking to the Master of Sneaking Out, I can get away." Ron said confidently.

"More like Master of Disaster."

Hermione tapped her slippered foot on the paved path. The black evening was silent, save for the gentle chirp chirp of the crickets hiding in the tall grasses and the water pouring out from the fancy fountain to her left. Ron was late.

The sudden crash and sound of a disturbed cat hiss rang through the air. Ron was here.

"What on earth were you thinking?! You want to wake the whole castle?" Hermione hissed angrily in his direction.

"Sorry." Ron muttered meekly. "What is it now that we're looking for?"

"It's called Amthylene. It's purple, with star shaped blossoms and yellow leaves. Its pollen shuts down the part of the brain that regulates the ability to lie."

"Found it!" Hermione whispered. She stooped down to the ground, and peeled back some of the underbrush, yanking out the plant. The basket of muffins was by her feet, and she pulled open the coverlet. Sprinkling the pollen over the fluffy pastry, Hermione stood and smirked, victorious.

"Okay, Ron, you can go now." She called over her shoulder. She was already half way to Harry's room, the basket swinging next to her, her soft blue robes fluttering as she turned and climbed the spiral staircase that led to his door.

The coast was clear. Two snoring guards, asleep at their post, rested against the stony walls, dreaming and drooling. The halls were empty, dust settled in the corners and spiders creeping alone in the night. Hermione took a moment to compose herself, and then lifted her pale fist to knock on the wooden door.

Behind the door there was shuffling, and a clattering that had to be something knocked to the floor. A very annoyed eleven-year-old Prince Harry Potter stood in front of her, his black hair even scruffier than usual.

It was sort of cute. No, wait. She defiantly didn't…No, eww! Before Harry could notice the look of horror registering on Hermione's face, he noticed the sweet smelling dessert. Blinking, he raised his eyebrows at her, now awake.

"So, given up now, eh? Come to bestow a peace offering?" Harry snatched the basket roughly out of her frozen hands, and greedily opened it. The soft checked napkin dropped to the floor, forgotten, and Hermione bent to pick it up. By the time she'd stood back up again, there was nothing left in the basket. Harry sure could be a pig….It would come back to bite him in the backside come tomorrow morning.

"Yeah, well, what can I say? You set my hair on fire. It's hard to top genius like that."

Harry looked thoughtful for a moment, and nodded. "Yeah, that was pure skill. Night then."

"Goodnight, Harry, I hope you have a pleasant day tomorrow." As she turned and headed down to her respective bedroom, an impish smile rose over her face, and Hermione was happy. She slept better that night than she had all summer.

The scene at the lake the next morning was one of pure chaos. The delegates from the neighboring kingdoms of Slytherin and Hufflepuff had come for the summer season, and arrived that morning. The young royals from each visiting realm had all gathered at the cool lakeside.

Prince Ernie of Hufflepuff was calmly engaged in a discussion about the absolute truth that was Santa Clause with his cousin, Lady Hannah Abbott, daughter to the Duke and his wife. The Slytherin clan- Prince Draco Malfoy, his cousin Blaise, the groupie Barely-A-Lady Pansy, and of course, the ever present body guards Crabbe and Goyle- had slinked off to the side, sunbathing like reptilian snakes on a large stargazing rock near the edge of the lake.

All had been fine, a relaxed ambiance until Harry had shown up. Hermione was eager to test her potion making skills, and stood immediately to shoot him a question. After dusting off her peach colored dress, she approached him.

"Hello Harry! Sleep well?" It was a simple enough question.

"Well, no, not really." Simple answer.

"So, Harry, now that we've ended the feud, do you think we should get to know each other a bit better, so we can be friends?" Hermione was slowly building up.

Harry blinked for a moment, as he had when he answered her first question. It seemed he went into a sort of trance, his eyes became wider and he stared off into space.

"Well, if we were to be friends, yeah, sure, but-"

Hermione cut him off with another question. "So, as a friend, if I was to ask you what your deepest, darkest secret was right now, what would you say?"

By now, the other children had gathered around, interested. They sensed that Princess Hermione was up to something, and were all ears. Each pair of eyes was steadily trained on Harry, to see what his answer would be. Would he call Hermione a name? Tell the truth? Lie? Not say anything at all?

Hermione's gold colored eyes stared into Harry's emerald, just daring him to lie to her. He didn't. "I can't swim!" He blurted out finally, after what seemed to be an internal struggle.

Laughter. All the children of the kingdom that were gathered there today burst out in fits of uncontrollable giggles, chuckles, snorts, and sniggers. Prince Harry's face was beat red, and he was glaring daggers at Hermione.

"Hey Potter, up for a swim?" Prince Draco taunted.

"Stop it, Malfoy." Harry growled out. "It isn't funny."

"Oh, on the contrary, Potter, it's splendidly hilarious."

Hermione stood on the side, glancing back and forth between the two royals. She didn't mean for anyone else to join in on her fun. If Malfoy said anything else, she'd pop him one.

Malfoy was now mocking Harry, standing on the edge of the tall rock and pretending to be afraid.

"Oh, save me Mummy, don't let the deep, deep, water get me!"

Harry, being an eleven-year-old boy, was not going to take this. He charged at Malfoy, and rammed into him hard. The boys went tumbling over the edge of the large stargazing rock, and landed in the cool water with a loud splash. Malfoy expertly swam to the lakeside and pulled himself out, his usually gelled back platinum hair in disarray.

He stalked off, taking his guards, groupie, and cousin with him, grumbling all the way. Harry, still sputtering and floundering in the deeper end of the lake, was bobbling over and under the water. The last time, he didn't come up.

The moving water sent shimmering waves of reflected sunlight rippling away, but fast stilled to the calmness of glass. Bubbles rose out, and the petrified children screamed.

Hermione moved forward, and glanced over the edge. A dark mass was visible, dropping further under the salty waters. Without thinking, she jumped in after him, the skirts of her peach dress puffing out as they bubbled with air. Hermione would have to work fast, and the weight of her wet clothes would do nothing but drag her down.

Swimming with all the might her short legs could give, she finally saw through the blackness. Harry was there, slowly making his way to the sandy bottom, black hair floating this way and that. Hermione grabbed him by his shirt collar, and yanked upwards, still fighting the weight of her ankle-length dress and the addition of Harry's as well.

Her tiny lungs ached, and she was starting to see spots. Finally, the thin layer of white light was pooling out to reveal the outside world. The other children must have come out of their shock, because as soon as Hermione's bushy shoulder length hair came into view, they moved towards them and yanked the other two out.

Sputtering and coughing, Harry and Hermione settled back on the surface. A frantic Queen Lily passed out blankets to them both, and proceeded to fuss and lecture about swimming without an appropriate lifeguard.

Harry glanced toward Hermione, who was busily attempting to get the water and sand out of her shoes. An unexpected warmth and appreciation ran through him. She had saved his life. He owed her. But that didn't necessarily mean he had to follow through with that 'truce' they'd made…

A/N: Good enough? Yes, no? Loved it, hated it? The ending was a bit rushed, I guess, and not much interaction, but I'm getting there! This chapter they're 11, next they will be 13, and then 15, etc….So, I hope that clears it up age-wise. I'm finally finished the 100 tissue paper flowers I had to make for my school's pep rally. We do one annually, for the traditional rivalry football game on Turkey Day (which is why we call it the Turkey Day Game…), and this update. It's 11/22, so I'll put this up at when FN is back.

OH! And is FN a bit odd looking for anyone else? It looks sort of...simple, if that's the word? Just wondering...

Reviews:

Hermione Graner Potter: Again, glad you love it! I finally got a chance to read your response…LOVED IT!

the-power-of-love: Lol, sadly, this was as fast as I could possibly update. Hope you enjoy!

DazedPanda: I'm happy you think it's funny! I do try…Well, here's the update.

Chickabiddy: Well, I boldfaced the first reference to age for you, and I do believe its easy to figure out which castle they're at in this chapter, but if not, First is Ravenclaw, then, they're in a carriage on the way to Gryffindor, then, they're at Gryffindor. Hope that helps! The month thing confused me as well, so I decided not to use it…Anyway, here's the update! Hopefully less confusing than the last! Oh, and about the whole middle name thing, that has a simple explanation. I save each chapter overtop of the last, so I don't have my first chapter on hand, and I usually only ever look back to the last chapter and the reviews when referencing for the next. I know, I know, bad practice, but I'm too lazy and my fingers hurt from typing right now ;).

RoughIslandSunrise: I'm going to continue it if you continue to review! I'm updating as fast as I can!

Sally: Updated, glad you think it's great!

greenrock: Oh, here she is, fighting back ;). I don't know how fabulous, but sure, whatever the reviewers say :P. I've got the chapters worked out, thanks though!

EngShin: AAHH! I'm going to have to duck from the capslock attack! I'm thrilled you think so highly of my story. I love that you love it, but it's quite hard to do multiple chapters at one sitting. Besides, I like to keep ya craving more ;).