Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to Harry Potter, or anything to do with the Wizarding World, really. I own all seven books and all eight movies, but not the rights to them. If I did…well, a boy can dream.

Chapter 40

Harry rolled off his bed before he had even finished opening his eyes. He didn't even have to glance out the window to know it was ridiculously early in the morning. His feet hit the scarlet and gold rug on the floor of his dormitory and he broke out into a grin wide enough to span an ocean. A chorus of snores was the only sound in the room as he hastily threw on a set of robes he hadn't wore since November – his Quidditch robes. Granted, he'd worn his practice jersey and such a plethora of times, but that didn't compare to his game getup. As he slipped on his jersey and his Seeker gloves, he felt an indescribable sense of excitement, of anticipation, wash over him. He imagined Maverick in Top Gun felt something similar whenever he put on his fighter pilot's uniform. He glanced up at the poster on his wall that the Grangers had given him for his birthday six months ago and gave Tom Cruise a quick salute before sprinting down the stairs to the common room.

The sky was just beginning to turn pink with the rising sun, so Harry fully expected to spend the next couple of hours bouncing off the walls in solitude. He reached the bottom step and stopped in surprise when a familiar witch awaited him, jumping to her feet from her usual spot on the couch.

"Hey you." Hermione grinned, closing her Ancient Runes textbook.

"Hey." He croaked out, still smiling. "What are you doing up at this ungodly hour?"

"I had this feeling that you would be up just as early." She stretched out on the couch, arching her back as she did so. "Clearly I was right."

"I'm just excited."

"I'm well aware. You've been very excited ever since you got that back." She pointed to the finely polished broom in Harry's hand.

"Oh, this?" Harry shrugged, nonchalantly examining it. "Just a stick with some twigs on the end that I got in the mail. You know, this friend of mine actually thought it was a murder weapon – "

"Oh, shut it." Hermione giggled.

"Hey, maybe you were right." He said innocently as he walked towards her. "Maybe Sirius Black is just really bad at putting curses on brooms. Or maybe he's had a change of heart and wanted to send a gift to his godson. It's all very possible."

"Are you going to keep making me feel bad for caring about you?" She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.

"I never make you feel bad about your passions, Hermione. Right?" He smirked, earning him an eye-roll. "So…why are you down here? Did you really just want to spend some time with me?" He asked rather sheepishly, and Hermione beamed at him.

"As shocking as it may be, yes, I wanted to spend some time with my boyfriend." She sighed with a blissful smile on her face. Harry's heart skipped not one, but several beats at her words. Specifically, the last one. It was still too surreal for him to comprehend that he was dating Hermione Granger. Every time locked eyes with her it was like being reassured that he wasn't stuck in some fantasy he had dreamt up after watching Sleepless in Seattle in Crawley. He was Hermione's boyfriend, and she was his girlfriend.

"Are you going to sit down?" She asked, retaking her spot on the couch and patting the cushion next to her. Harry happily obliged, carefully placing the Firebolt on the table in front of them. He turned to her, propping his elbow against the back of the couch and holding his head up with his hand.

"So, how did you want to spend the morning?" He asked. "And please don't say studying for Runes. If I read another one of those symbols my brain is going to spontaneously combust."

"I wasn't planning on studying for Runes, you prat." She swatted his shoulder with a sarcastic huff. "Believe it or not, I think about things other than school."

"Like what?" He challenged, tilting his chin up as if mocking her, earning him another huff.

"Well, I've been thinking about how worried I am. About you."

"Aww." Harry cooed sarcastically, and Hermione responded by actually shoving him off the couch. He hit the floor with a thump, but he couldn't stop laughing to himself, even as he clambered back into his seat. "You shouldn't do that, you know. If I get hurt before the match because you pushed me off the couch you'll have all of Gryffindor after your head."

"May I continue?" She asked pointedly, and Harry nodded with a smirk. "I'm worried about you getting hurt during the match today. Whether by the Firebolt or by some other horrible Quidditch catastrophe."

"I'll be fine." Harry insisted, scooting closer to her. "I can outfly the Bludgers on this thing and Ravenclaw doesn't strike me as the type of team to play dirty. I think I'll survive today."

"You better." Hermione warned, an impish smile pulling at her lips.

"Why would I let myself get killed out there when I have you to come back to?" Harry waggled his eyebrows, and Hermione blushed. She ducked her head and made a point of looking anywhere but at Harry.

"You're sweet." She mumbled, and Harry bent down and kissed the top of her head. She let out a small sound of surprise and leaned forward, nuzzling her head into his chest.

"This is how I planned on spending these early hours." She whispered as she snuggled even closer into Harry. "If you wouldn't mind."

"What? Cuddling?" He asked, resting his chin on the top of Hermione's head. She hummed in agreement, her warm breath tickling his chest. "I'd love to." He wrapped his arm around Hermione and let her burrow into him like she was trying to escape from the rest of the world. She tilted her head up so she was facing him and flashed him one of those radiant smiles that sent his pulse skyrocketing.

"Perfect." She whispered. Then she purred, snaking her arms around his torso and holding him tightly. Harry gave a giddy smile and leaned back into the couch, wondering if he could spend more time like this if he just sank into the cushions like they were quicksand. He felt Hermione rub her head against him once again and her breathing quickly evened out, a relaxed rhythm of inhales and exhales. He placed another gentle kiss on the crown of her head before letting his eyes shut as well, still smiling.

"Hey, Seeker." Angelina Johnson suddenly ruffled Harry's hair. He snapped his eyes open, grumbling incoherently as he tried to remember where he was.

"W-wha?" He asked rather articulately, and the star Chaser just laughed to herself.

"Breakfast is in five. Wood's been wondering where you are, so I figured I would get you before he found you and interrupted…this." She smirked, gesturing to Harry's left. He turned and saw Hermione was still snuggled up against him, fast asleep. Her arms were draped around his waist and her head was resting against his chest, just below his shoulder. "See you in the Great Hall." Angelina winked before straightening her Quidditch jersey and marching out of the common room.

Harry nodded in understanding once she left, lifting his wrist and glancing at his watch. His eyebrows shot to the ceiling in surprise as he realized he and Hermione had been on the couch for almost an hour and a half. He reluctantly pulled his arm off of her and gave her a nudge.

"Hermione." He whispered, watching her face for any signs of consciousness. Her lips twitched slightly but she made no other attempts to wake up. "Hermione!" He repeated a bit louder. She made a faint noise in the back of her throat before nestling into him even more. He groaned, and resorted to physically removing Hermione's arms from around his midsection. "Wake up." She slowly opened one eye, not looking entirely awake. "We have to go down to breakfast, Hermione."

"No…" She whined sleepily, wrenching her arms out of Harry's hands and wrapping him up even tighter. "More cuddling."

"Are you even awake right now?" Harry found it very difficult to subdue his smirk at Hermione's antics. She let out a discontented mumble in response, but considering she was mostly asleep and the fact that her face was buried in his Quidditch jersey, it was little more than an incoherent jumble of sounds. "Hermione, we have to go."

"Harry…" She moaned, finally lifting her head and opening her eyes. "Please?" She batted her eyelashes.

"Stop that." Harry admonished her as his pulse quickened. "I'm serious!" He added as Hermione pouted, jutting her lips out a bit more than usual. For a split-second he strongly considered kissing her until his lips fell off, but he remembered his upcoming match. "Hermione…" He warned, narrowing his eyes.

She huffed, begrudgingly removing her arms from around him and scooting away. "Fine." She relented, slowly getting to her feet.

"It's not that I don't want to." Harry offered, grabbing his Firebolt and holding his hand out for Hermione. She took it and they walked through the portrait hole, and Harry smiled to himself as Hermione seemed to instantly brighten upon holding his hand. "I have to say," He shrugged innocently as they entered the Great Hall, "if I end up winning today I wouldn't mind making…that a part of my game-day routine."

"Who said we can only do it on game days?" Hermione gave him a mischievous smirk that sent roughly a thousand butterflies fluttering throughout his entire body. Before he could offer a response he was swarmed with students eager to get a good look at the Firebolt.

Harry was more than willing to let his classmates pass around the broom in awe as he took a seat next to Hermione.

"Where'd you get it?"

"How fast does it go?"

"I have ten Galleons on Gryffindor winning, Harry, don't let me down!"

"You reckon you can outrace a Bludger?"

A barrage of questions rained down on Harry, but even those who asked were more interested in ogling the Firebolt than actually hearing the answers. Soon enough, he was forcing his way through the crowd, clutching the broom to his chest to avoid having it snatched by some overexcited student. Hermione was just behind him, constantly squeezing his hand and rolling her eyes at the school-wide fascination with a broom.

"Honestly, I – "

"Hermione, let them have their fun." Harry sighed as they mercifully made it through the throng of onlookers and reached the entrance hall. "Of course, the real fun for everyone is when I catch the Snitch and keep us in first place." He winked.

"You have quite a bit of faith in yourself." Hermione giggled as they reached the Hogwarts Grounds. Harry just shrugged.

"You never should have shown me Top Gun." He smirked, and Hermione rolled her eyes. Eventually they reached the doors and turned to face each other. "So…don't I get a kiss for luck? It's kind of tradition, right?"

"Because that worked so well last time?"

"I mean…well…"

"Come back alive, Harry Potter. Then we'll see." Hermione bit her lip as she stared at him. He blinked in surprise – he couldn't remember an occasion since August in which a certain bushy-haired witch hadn't taken every available opportunity to put her lips on him.

"Uh…okay then." He nodded awkwardly. Hermione winked at him and skipped away, leaving a thoroughly confused Seeker standing in front of the locker room doors. He eventually remembered that he had a game to get to and entered just before Oliver Wood launched into his pre-game speech.

He'd had two practices since he'd gotten the Firebolt back from an uncharacteristically ecstatic Professor McGonagall, and they had been the best practices of his life. He felt as if he shared a telepathic connection with the broom, like he could just think about where he wanted to fly and he would be zipped over there at breakneck speeds like it was nothing. He was elated the moment he marched out of the locker room and mounted the broom, rocketing up and down the field and putting on a bit of a show for the crowd.

"Here comes Harry Potter, flying on a brand new Firebolt, the fastest broom on the face of the Earth. Not only does it come with a built in auto-brake, but it will be the broom of choice for all national Quidditch teams in the – " Lee Jordan was cut off by a stern lecture courtesy of Professor McGonagall. Harry shook his head in amusement as he descended to the ground, preparing for Madam Hooch to begin the game.

He lined up across from the Ravenclaw Seeker, the only girl on the team. Harry remembered Wood bombarding him with tips and strategies about how to beat Cho Chang. She flashed him a smile that, although pretty, paled in comparison to the smile of one Hermione Granger.

"Hi, Harry." Her voice was dainty, like what he imagined a princess would sound like. "I'm Cho." She added, fluttering her eyelashes.

"Cool." He grunted. He heard the Weasley twins snort behind him, but he paid them no mind – as per usual. With a sharp whistle and the release of the Quaffle, the game was on.

Harry zoomed up and down the length of the pitch, scanning for the familiar glitter of gold that would guarantee a victory. He heard Lee Jordan announce several Gryffindor goals – in between fun facts about the Firebolt, of course – as he searched for the Snitch. He spotted it quickly, tilting his broom towards the Gryffindor goalposts and racing off. He was barely ten feet away when he was suddenly cut off by Cho Chang, causing him to lose sight of the ball.

He swore to himself, turning to see Cho give him another smile, as if she hadn't just ruined his chance at an early victory. He rolled his eyes, and set off again in search of the Snitch. He glimpsed it again, closer to the middle of the field, but was cut off once again by another crafty maneuver by Cho. She smiled at him again, as if this were some silly game just between the two of them. Harry suddenly couldn't care less how attractive the Ravenclaw Seeker might be – he wanted to win the damn game.

He dived again, and Cho, thinking he'd seen the Snitch, tried to follow. Harry watched the green grass of the pitch rushing up to meet him at warp speed until pulled out of the dive very sharply. Cho hurtled downward; he rose fast as a bullet once more, and then saw it, for the third time – the Snitch was glittering way above the field at the Ravenclaw end.

"Harry, look out!" Katie Bell screamed as she flew past him, pointing downwards to the grass. Harry ignored his instincts and looked down to see three familiar cloaked figures hovering below him. Immediately, he extracted his wand from his robes, pointing it at the dementors.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" He bellowed. Something silver-white, something enormous, erupted from the end of his wand. Not bothering to see if the spell had hit its mark, he thrust forward and closed in on the Snitch. Extending his arm outwards, he snared it with his fingers and held it up triumphantly over his head.

The crowd erupted into cheers that resembled an auditory volcano, so deafening Harry could barely hear himself think. He looked over and saw six blurs of scarlet rushing towards him as he descended towards the ground. When he was a few meters above, one of the blurs rocketed straight towards him, launching himself off of his own broom and tackle-hugging Harry off of his Firebolt. They hit the grass with a thud, but neither one cared as they grinned in triumph.

"You're welcome, Captain." Harry laughed as Wood hugged him like his life depended on it.

"That's my boy!" The Keeper cried out in elation as he lifted Harry to his feet, grabbing his wrist and yanking it towards the sky like a victorious boxer. Alicia, Angelina, and Katie all sprinted towards him, enveloping him in a fierce group hug and all planting quick kisses on his cheek.

"Hermione's not going to be happy with that, you three!" Fred snickered as he ruffled Harry's hair and George unleashed a string of playful punches on his arm.

"I think I'll let it slide." A voice giggled. Quickly, the three Chasers backed off of Harry and let him come face to face with Hermione. "Hey, you." She grinned, looking like she had just sprinted from the stands. Harry glanced over her shoulder and saw the rest of his housemates trotting across the pitch towards him, featuring a vanguard led by the Gryffindor Gang. He turned back to Hermione and grinned.

"I'm alive."

"Shut up." She smirked before closing the distance between them, crushing her lips against his and bringing her hands into his wind-swept hair. Harry smiled into it before ripping off his Seeker gloves and cupping her face with his hands, relishing the feeling of her soft skin on his. The kiss was slow, and fairly awkward considering how exhausted Harry was, but neither of them really cared. They pulled away after only a few seconds, and Harry broke into a genuine smile as Hermione beamed at him.

A pair of wolf whistles rang out from where Fred and George were standing, but Harry ignored them, keeping his hands on Hermione's cheeks as they smiled at each other.

"You conjured quite a Patronus there, Harry Potter." She raised an eyebrow, and he just shrugged.

"I told you. Nothing to worry about."

"Well, I wouldn't go that far." She jerked her head to the left and Harry looked over. Professor McGonagall was positively seething as she berated Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and Marcus Flint. They were struggling out of their quasi-dementor getups and all looked like they had been run over by a team of oxen.

"Ah…still. I think that was my best one yet." He smiled again, and Hermione giggled.

"I would have to agree." She laughed at the struggling Slytherins again just before Harry was mobbed by the rest of Gryffindor. Ron enveloped him in a hug fierce enough to send the two friends tumbling to the grass, and it didn't take long before several of their housemates leapt on top of them.

Harry spent the remainder of the day in the common room, observing the rambunctious victory party organized by the Weasley twins. He had spent the first hour happily downing butterbeers and recounting how he'd caught the Snitch, even grabbing his Firebolt and flying the length of the room a few times to uproarious applause. But eventually he opted to collapse on his usual couch while the party raged behind him, retrieving the photo album Hermione had given him for Christmas and relaxing in front of the fire.

"You look tired." Hermione sat down next to him, scooting in close so she was leaning on his side.

"I got up early." He smirked, absent-mindedly kissing her forehead. Then her cheek. Then her nose.

"So did I." She mused, giggling with each peck. "But then I took this really nice nap right on this couch while I cuddled with my boyfriend."

Harry inhaled sharply, his body feeling light and airy as he repeated that sentence in his head a few times. It still felt like he was dreaming, but he knew better than that. He turned and gave Hermione a warm smile. Immediately, she pulled him into a deep kiss, turning his brain into a useless pile of putty and sending his heartbeat into a total frenzy. Her lips were intoxicatingly soft, a symbol for the unending softness, caring, and passion that lied within Hermione Granger's heart and soul. He could have sat there kissing her until the cosmos collapsed, but she suddenly pulled away, her eyes darkening with concern.

"What was that other Seeker doing smiling at you all match?" She asked pointedly, and Harry paled.

"Oh…Cho? I think she was just trying to distract me. Since I had a way better broom and all…" His voice wavered as Hermione glared at him for a bit before her features softened.

"So you weren't flirting with her?" She snuggled into him with a shy smile. "She's very pretty, you know."

"Still. Not the prettiest." He waggled his eyebrows at Hermione, who blushed furiously.

"Shut up."

"I'm serious. You think I just stare at you because I'm being nice?" He smirked, and she squeaked in response. "Seriously. You're beautiful."

"Oh, Harry!" She beamed before grabbing the collar of his shirt and tugging him into her, kissing him for all she was worth. Harry felt his mind go completely and utterly blank as his body flooded with a pleasant warmth like he'd spent a day at the beach. She pulled away after a bit, and Harry went to kiss her again but stopped as her eyes darkened with concern.

"Do you hear that?" She asked worriedly. He blinked, and strained his ears to see what had started worrying her.

"I don't…hear anything." He said nervously. What had happened to the sounds of the party? What happened to the incessant cheering and laughter of his fellow Gryffindors?

"Don't you hear that screaming?" She asked, and Harry's heart slowed to a standstill. Before he could open his mouth, he heard something that chilled him to the bone.

"AAARRGGHH! NOOO!"

Harry snapped his eyes open, fumbling around in the darkness. He wasn't with Hermione. He wasn't even in the common room. He was in his dormitory, in his bed, and someone had just let out a bloodcurdling scream. He ripped open the curtains around his bed to see Dean Thomas waving his wand, turning on every lamp in the room. Ron Weasley was writhing in his bed in a panic, flailing his arms and pointing to his slashed curtains.

"Black!" He gasped out, his face turning as pale as ivory. "Sirius Black! With a knife!"

A/N: To answer everyone's question, no. I have no shame in stealing the good luck kiss line from Percy Jackson. It fit too well, and Sam Seaborne once said "Good writers borrow from other writers. Great writers steal from them outright." Hopefully you all enjoyed the little cuddle session and the post-Quidditch euphoria. Up until that last bit, at least.

To each and every one of you that was kind enough to review, follow, or favorite this story, thank you! You all are my world right now, and it means so much to me to see that my writing resonates with you guys. Thank you so much for all of your kind words and encouragement, and stay safe!