(A/N: One more of mine, and then I'll stop being selfish and put up more requests LOLZ. I just really wanted to do this AU shot (which are totally acceptable, by the way *wink wink nudge nudge*)

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"Ron, is that the line?" Hermione scoffed, gazing at the mass of people outside the tent in disbelief. It curled twice around and stretched at least a quarter of a mile, not including the people inside the no doubt magically enlarged autograph tent.

"Yes!" the lanky redhead hissed, pulling her forward by her sweater sleeves. Ron had done nothing but very taller since graduation from Hogwarts. Despite their shaky romance that had fallen apart as quickly as it started, they still remained close friends, resulting in Ginny including her in the family VIP pass for the World Cup to watch her team play.

"Ron, we'll be here forever," Hermione moaned. Ron shook his head and gave her a satisfied grin. "Ginny got us the special tickets. We can skip right to the front. I don't care what it takes- I'm getting Mimi Vance's autograph."

Hermione sighed and let him drag her along, giving apologetic glances at the angry people they cut ahead of.

"There she is! MIMI! MIMI VANCE!"

Hermione edged away from him, deciding that she would seperate herself from the embarrassment of watching Ron make a fool out of herself over the pretty Chaser. She wandered around the tent, eventually finding herself facing an even longer line. Unlike Mimi Vance's, this line was mostly full of tittering witches. Hermione raised an eyebrow at the poster, showing a smugly grinning wizard with messy black hair and piercing green eyes.

"Meet Harry Potter, youngest Seeker in Quidditch!" Ah, that explained it. Ron hated Potter with a passion- as far as she knew, he was the most popular and best Seeker in Quidditch, and the reason Ron's team had been SMUSHED in the semi finals, and Ginny's ankle was crushed last year. Using his words, Potter was a "slippery, cheating blighter."

"Ohmigoshthereheisthereheis!"

Suddenly, she was caught in a surging tide of squealing hormones, pushed and shoved to the front of the line. And there he was, the slippery cheating blighter himself, except he he didn't look like a slimeball. He was...Handsome, lean and fit and currently smirking at her, quill in hand.

"Hello there, little lady."

Hermione bristled and cocked an eyebrow. "Excuse me? I am FAR from a little lady."

His own brows shot into his hairline. "Alright then. What do you want signed?"

She blushed, deflating slightly. "I hadn't, um...I didn't plan on..."

"Paper? Jersey? A poster?" He looked like he was enjoying her embarrassment

"Ah..." The little girls giggled behind her, and Hermione glared at the increasingly unattractive (yeah, RIGHT) Quidditch poser. "No."

"Oh, I get it," he smiled, making anger blossom in her gut. "Where do you want it?"

"What?!" she squawked, starting to sweat. Was it just her or did that sound WAY too personal? And she was NOT slightly aroused, thank you very much.

"Here-" He grabbed her hand and pulled it towards him. Before she could protest and slap him, the cold tip of the quill was scratching gently over her arm, scrawling his name in loopy, careless writing. Goosebumps rocketed up along her skin, making her shudder. His grip was surprisingly gentle. He gazed up at her through a thick fringe of boyish black bangs with a secretive smile, and she nearly moaned, biting her lip as the quill whispered over her flesh.

"There you are," he murmured, giving her fingers a squeeze. He winked at her, and she tore away finally, shaking. Hermione darted over to a post and leaned against it, raising her arm to eye level.

Harry James Potter, written permanently into her skin. Her heart fluttered at the sight. Underneath it-

I'll be here after the game, little lady.