Luna plopped down in front loudly in front of Hermione, clearly spent.
"You're late," said Hermione indifferently.
"Honestly Hermione, next time pick a tougher guy. Mickey's a real pushover." Luna said bluntly.
"No he isn't!" Hermione whispered defensively. "He's a gentleman!"
"Ix-nay on the 'man' part," muttered Luna.
"What was that?" Hermione asked.
"Nothing. Anyhoo, here's what I found out -" Luna took out the parchment and sat it in front of Hermione " - hope it helps."
Hermione examined the parchment carefully. As she went down the list, she became more and more forlorn. "He wants a sporty girl," she said gloomily.
"Not necessarily. Just a girl who's fun to be around...likes Quidditch...knows how to ride a broom..." Luna appeared to be deep in thought. "Yeah, pretty much a sporty girl."
"I'm screwed." Hermione sighed.
"Looks like it. Wait a moment!" Luna exclaimed, causing Madam Pince to glare at her, "Hermione, you're best friends with two of the most Quidditch-loving guys in school! Just ask one of them to give you pointers on flying and the concept of Qudditch!" Luna finished proudly.
Hermione beamed. "Luna, you're a genius!" This caused Luna to glow, then she said, "Why don't you ask Ronald?"
Scoffing, Hermione said, "Have you ever seen him fly? He's a madman! I'll just ask Harry. Oh, I hope it doesn't give Mickey the wrong idea!"
"What do you mean?" Luna asked.
"Remember Viktor?"
"Ooh...yeah...well, I'm sure he won't think anything of it. Everyone knows you and Harry are just friends," Luna finished this with a trace of a knowing smile on her face.
"Yeah...just friends,'" Hermione said, slightly sullenly.
"Well, I suppose I'm off. Oh and Hermione, don't forget about the other end of our bargain."
"Oh, right. I'll talk to Ron tonight." Hermione replied.
"'Kay. See ya later!" Luna called from the door.
"Bye," said Hermione and gathered her books. Well, she thought to herself, I imagine this task will be much harder than a silly old History of Magic essay.
---
Harry sighed. That girl had been following him around all day. The only thing he knew about her was that she was a Gryffindor 5th year, and she clearly fancied him. Ever since breakfast she had trailed him like a trapper hunts a fox. Only when he stopped at the portrait hole did she call out to him.
"Harry, darling!" She said sweetly.
Oh Merlin, Harry thought disdainfully and turned around.
She was about a head shorter than Harry, with big blue eyes. She had blonde hair that seemed to curl perfectly at the ends, and she was very thin. All in all, she was a lovely girl, but Harry failed to notice.
"You called?" Harry said with a hint of annoyance.
"Yes, I just wanted to say hi. My name's Annabelle, but you can call me Annie." Annabelle said this with a big smile, showing off her perfect rows of white teeth and extending a hand.
"My name's H -"
"Oh, I know your name silly. Of course you're Harry Potter. Listen, I'm part of a club and a few girls asked me to interview you for a poll we recently did."
"And what, pray tell, would it be called?" Harry asked, his annoyance clear to the trained ear.
"What? The poll? It was called 'Top 10 Hottest Guys in Hogwarts.' Of course you're right on the top of the list, Harry."
Ugh, Harry thought, I'll never be able to hear my name again.
"Please? It would greatly benefit our club," Annabelle said.
She looked at him with the saddest expression he had ever seen. Well, second saddest. The first belonged to Hermione from when she saw Winky passed out in the kitchens earlier that year.
"Sure. Does eleven o' clock sound good?" He found his mouth saying as his head was thinking something entirely different, and entirely rude.
"Good. Oh, and that Granger girl won't be around, will she? After all, we just want to interview you, Harry."
Wanting to contain his anger, Harry quickly turned about-face and muttered the password, entering the portrait hole and leaving Annabelle behind. Harry was sure he almost distinctively heard the Fat Lady say something like, "Are you going to stand around all day, you little tart?"
---
"Hello, Mickey," Hermione said in a sultry voice.
"Oh, h-hi," Mickey stuttered. What is with all these girls?
"What are you working on?" Hermione asked in the same sultry tone.
"Oh nothing really, just this drawing of a Firebolt. Man, what I wouldn't give to ride one of those!"
Mickey held up his drawing of the Firebolt. Hermione examined it, and thought it was a masterpiece. Strangely, it looked exactly like Harry's; however, Hermione failed to notice.
"One of my friends has one of those," Hermione replied nonchalantly.
"Who?" Mickey queried.
"Oh, just Harry."
"HARRY POTTER! I mean, really?"
"Yeah." Hermione replied calmly.
"That is so cool. D'you think he'd ever...er...let me ride on it?"
Hermione thought for a moment. If she asked Harry to let Mickey ride his broom, he'd probably say no. It is his baby, you know, Hermione's conscience muttered, which sounded somewhat like Harry's voice. On the other hand, Mickey would notice her and think she was cool. Hermione's mind contemplated the choices, while her voice chose to take the latter.
"Of course he would!"
"Really? Oh wow. You rock, Hermione!"
Hermione beamed. She rocked.
"Yeah, I'll ask him about it tonight."
"Oh my...oh my..." Mickey looked at Hermione for a millisecond, then darted in the direction of the Ravenclaw's Grotto.
What have I gotten myself into? Hermione asked herself as she turned to leave.
You never listen to me. In all my days -
"Oh shut it, you!" Hermione yelled at the voice.
Ugh. So rude!
