Author's notes!

I am very sorry about several aspects of last chapter. Number one: it was extremely short. However, I expect that most of my chapters will be extremely short. Number two: It had numerous typoes. Now, you must understand something about me and typoes. I am usually a grammar Nazi. I hate typoes and errors. But you must understand that I was grounded from the computer when I typed the first chapter, so I had only a very small window of time in which to type the whole thing. I apologize sincerely.

To wrap up this lengthy note, I'll just relate to you that I am quite open to suggestions. In fact, Fred just told me that he will give you a lock of his splendid hair if you review. He washes it every day, he says. Ok, enough stupidity. On to the chapter (more stupidity).

Hermione was a little bit nervous. It was exactly three weeks after she had resolved to act within the week.

But it was just that… well, it was Harry. Her friend. And she loved Harry as a brother and all that, which made it kind of awkward to hit on him. But it had to be done if Hermione was ever going to find herself a flaming hot bag of love.

So on a rainy Monday morning, Hermione decided that it was time. You know, the time. Yes, time to go. All right, she'd go. Right now. She was going to do it now. Right now. As in, now. This second. Well, maybe in a minute.

She waited for Harry and Ron at the bottom of their dormitory stairs, just as she did every day. It was, as has been stated, a dreary Monday morning. She knew that her friends would be ridiculously grumpy. She just couldn't understand why they didn't love mornings! But it was the first day of spring. Maybe that would cheer them up.

"Hi, Hermione," said Ron. Hermione ignored him. It was Harry she was after, after all. Ron looked distinctly annoyed.

"Hi Harry!" Hermione batted her eyelashes. She had read in TeenWitch magazine that this had a very seductive effect.

"Hi, 'Mione," he said, unsuccessfully stifling a huge yawn. "What's wrong with your eye? It's twitching."

Hermione ignored this slight on her "alluring" eye-batting and said, "Oh, nothing, you know, the usual, so anyways how are you Harry?" all in one breath.

Too tired to notice this odd development, Harry answered, "I hate mornings. I hate Mondays."

Hermione said in a high-pitched, unnaturally girly voice, "Well, cheer up, silly! It's the first day of spring!"

In response to this, Harry proclaimed his intense hatred of those foul creatures that wake me up early in the morning with their incessant, stupid twittering. "I hate birds." Pause. "And did you just call me silly?"

Hermione had no response to this.

At breakfast, she insisted on sitting by Harry. Repeatedly throughout the day she removed Ron from his seat next to Harry when there was no vacant seat on the Boy-Who-Lived's other side. This caused frequent whispered fights during classes, including one notable one during History of Magic.

"Ron! Move! I want to sit next to Harry!"

Ron sat stubbornly where he was. "Why have you been like this all day? Why do you want to sit next to Harry so much? I'm not moving."

She rounded on him. "Why do you want to sit next to him so badly? I just never get to sit next to him, that's all, because you always insist on being right there. Everyone knows you're in love with him, now move. Anyway, he smells good."

Ron sniffed Harry indiscreetly and loudly, attracting the attention of most of the class. "He doesn't smell any better than me!"

Hermione laughed.

"And I am not in love with Harry, you crazy woman!"

Harry had turned a delicate shade of puce and, looking as though he would like to hide under the table, moved to sit next to Seamus and Dean.

The rest of the day passed mainly without incident, due to the fact that Hermione was thinking of a plan rather than trying to seduce Harry without any forethought.

Later that evening, the Gryffindors were enjoying butterbeer due to the house-elves' generosity, and the Weasley twins' willingness to take advantage of that generosity. Soon, however, the first-day-of-spring celebrations required more, as everyone seemed particularly thirsty. Harry volunteered to get more, having learned the secret of the kitchens from the twins the previous day. Hermione said she would go with him. It was a goooood opportunity.

The halls were dark and silent.

On the way there they made small talk, as is usual for friends to do. Harry mentioned how nasty it was that Padma Patil always made out with her skinny Ravenclaw boyfriend. "And they don't even try to hide it, they're all over the place!" Harry complained. "I always make loud obnoxious gagging noises whenever I see them, but they just ignore me and keep eating each other's faces."

The perfect opening.

Hermione threw herself into Harry's arms and said, "Harry, eat my face!" – and pursed her lips.

She was only dimly aware of falling to the ground as Harry pushed her away, turning a lovely shade of green. "Hermione – the butterbeer's gone to your head – you have a low tolerance – I'm just gonna get the rest now, you – um – I don't need help – " And he ran around the corner.

Upon reflection, Hermione considered that that may have made her plan a little bit too obvious.

Harry was obviously off-limits now.

When she got back to the common room, she went straight to her dorm to avoid facing Harry. As far as she was concerned, if she never spoke to Harry again in her whole life, well, that would be good.

Well, she thought, crossing his name off her list, that was only the most mortifying moment of my life.

She would just have to go for the next boy.

Ron Weasley, here I come.