Author's Note: *Obligatory Denial of Ownership* Officially a sneak peek at a new story idea.
Hermione was focused on the book in her hand, eager to block out the bad mood McLaggen had inspired in her. The chill of the winter air didn't even register to her, nor did the approach of her best friend riding his broom.
Harry noticed Hermione's absorption in her book and the crease between her eyebrows that painted a clear picture of irritation. The last thing Harry wanted to see was Hermione in a bad mood. He had half a mind to interrogate her over who'd inspired her frustration and exchange a few choice words with the culprit. But, perhaps there was a better option.
"Hey there 'Mi!" Harry called, breaking Hermione from her focus. As she looked up from her book, ready to tell him off for interrupting her, all she could do was laugh at the sight of him hanging upside down from his broom and waving at her with a massive grin.
The laughter that Harry was met with lifted his spirits, and he righted himself on his broom so he could lower himself properly and touch down to the ground. "Haven't you anything better to do than show off your prowess on a broom?" Hermione asked jokingly, shutting her book with a smile.
"'Course I have," he answered. "But why would I ever pass up a chance to make you laugh?" He countered with a sly smile of his own.
Hermione raised an eyebrow at him and stood up. "How joyous, my own personal jester!" She joked.
Harry immediately fell into a bow, running with her joke. "At your service!" He insisted before standing properly again and lifting his broom to his shoulders and settling it behind his neck to carry more easily. "So, how did it go?" He asked casually.
Hermione narrowed her eyes and gestured to his Quidditch Uniform. "Shouldn't I be asking you that?" She asked.
Harry rolled his eyes. "Please, you already know how practice went. You've watched enough to get a perfect picture. You, on the other hand," Harry took a step closer and smirked. "You had a study date with -"
"It was NOT a date!" Hermione interrupted and crossed her arms under her bust. "And even if it had been there certainly wouldn't be another!" She added and began walking down the corridor.
Harry wanted to be upset on Hermione's behalf, but he couldn't help the smile that graced his features for a moment. "Oh," he commented and caught up to her pace. "That bad?" He asked softly.
Hermione scoffed. "It was... it was just awful! He was awful! We were supposed to be studying, but he just kept flirting with me and trying to convince me to accompany him to Slughorn's Christmas Party! And the bloody bastard refused to take no for an answer either! He seemed to prefer practicing verbal gymnastics with me! Such a prick!" She admitted.
Harry took on a surprised expression at her language. "The formidable Hermione Jean Granger, walking dictionary, resorting to foul language? What is this world coming to?" He commented.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh shove it, Harry!" She answered. "Books are rather functional weapons, you know."
The blood drained from Harry's face. "You wouldn't dare!" He insisted.
The look on Hermione's face said otherwise. "Wanna bet?" She asked, smirking at her disheveled friend.
Harry wilted a bit and cleared his throat. "So, verbal gymnastics? What did that consist of?" Harry asked.
Hermione sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "When I said no, he asked if I already had a date. I told him that I didn't, just to try and shut him up, but that just encouraged him. He insisted I was playing hard to get and that he would win me over at the Christmas party. As I was leaving, I called over my shoulder that I'd rather attend with the giant squid than him."
Harry felt his heart leap in his chest and couldn't help smiling. "Certainly sounds unpleasant," He heard himself saying. "And if I've got a good judge of McLaggen's character, I'd have to say I doubt your jab will make much difference to him. He probably just thinks you're a challenge."
"That's what I was worried about," Hermione admitted with another sigh. "I want him to leave me alone, but I've no idea how to get rid of him."
An idea struck Harry suddenly. "Well, if you had a date to the party, maybe your escort could act as a buffer between the two of you, take some of the work off of you since he's too much of a disrespectful git to listen to you anyway."
"I thought of that," Hermione mentioned. "But I can't think of anyone I can attend with. Especially if it's specifically to discourage McLaggen."
Harry chuckled and sped up to stand in front of Hermione. "Really?" He asked. "You can't think of anyone?"
Hermione raised a brow, her curiosity getting the better of her. "Eager to be my storybook hero again?" She asked, reminding him of when they told Sirius about the troll incident.
Harry's face flushed at the memory, but he cleared his throat again and ran a nervous hand through his hair. "M-maybe," he answered. "Or maybe I'd like a beautiful girl with a brain on my arm when I walk into an event I'd rather avoid," he found himself admitting, feeling his face heat up even more.
Hermione felt the blood rush to her cheeks and clutched her book to her chest tightly. "Beautiful?" She asked, caught on the word.
Harry nodded. "Beautiful," he repeated. "Brilliant, loyal, resilient, caring, miraculous, and so very beautiful," He said, and gulped, his nerves taking over.
Hermione launched herself at Harry, wrapping her arms about his neck and pressing her lips to his, not even noticing the sound of both her book and his broom toppling to the ground and landing just behind Harry's feet. What she did notice was Harry wrapping his own arms around her waist and holding her against him tightly. Yes, his arms and hands she took perfect note of, the feeling of his lips against hers, the lightning shooting down her spine as their tongues brushed against each other certainly registered too, as did the way one of his hands rose up from her waist to her hair, his fingers tangling in her curly tresses and gripping softly, keeping her in place.
She could feel his passion pouring out from him and filling her from her lips to her toes. When had he developed this view of her? How had she missed it? How much time had they wasted when she could have been filling extra moments with kisses like this? Kisses like this one that left her breathless and clutching Harry for dear life, terrified her legs could collapse out from under her.
"Wow," Harry whispered into her hair and pressed his lips to her forehead.
Hermione couldn't help chuckling and met his eyes, wanting to see what she'd felt from him and finding it shining out at her. "I'd have to concur with your assessment," she admitted and bit her lip.
Harry's smile was infectious, and he raised the hand still resting on Hermione's waist up to her face, softly stroking her cheek. "So, does that mean you'll allow me the pleasure to escort you to the upcoming Christmas party?" Harry asked softly.
Hermione shivered at the soft touch of his fingers and leaned into his hand. "I'd be overjoyed to have you for a date," she answered.