Colours of Obsession

A story of how the meeting of three colours finally manages to bring together an unknown romance between an obsessed, in-denial Daphne Greengrass and an equally obsessed, and less in-denial, Harry Potter.

*O*O*O*

"Babe! There's something tragic about you.
Something so magic about you. Don't you agree?
Babe! There's something lonesome about you.
Something so wholesome about you. Get closer to me."

*O*O*O*

Harry breathed in deeply as the world seemed to crawl to a slow.

Duelling.

He could see every single movement they were making. Every errant twitch of their muscles. Every last syllable of the spells they were casting spilt from their slowed lips. The final movements of their wands right before they unleashed their hexes upon him.

He had a knack for it.

His head tilted to the left ever so slightly.

The bolt of whitish-blue energy surged right past his head, narrowly missing his ear, just as he had expected it to.

It seemed to be in his blood.

Speaking of blood, Harry's own felt like it was thrumming with energy under the surface of his skin. His focus was dedicated entirely to bobbing and weaving between the multitude of spells that were coming his way now. On the other end of the classroom, the pair of Slytherins girls were whipping up a storm of spells to send Harry's way.

They were all harmless, of course. Daphne had insisted they use a simple colouring curse that would change the colour of whatever it hit. This would be a painless method of training for Harry, which would indicate when he'd been hit, to work on his stamina and skill in dodging.

Behind the weaving teen, the stone wall of their usual abandoned-classroom-cum-training-room looked like it had been beaten repeatedly with a rainbow. Splotches of colours had now painted the usual grey-brown stones with a variety of reds, greens, blues, and yellows, bringing about a new breath of life into the room they were using nowadays for training.

Still, harmless or not, Harry had no intention of being hit.

He treated every single one like it was an actual dangerous curse, or even the Killing Curse, coming his way.

Of course, when faced with the Killing Curse, Harry had no intentions of standing there and simply dodging. This was simply one of the many aspects that he believed he had to master in the event he had to fight against someone using the Killing Curse.

As Moody had said. All it would take would be the slightest of grazes, and he'd be dropping dead.

With that in mind, Harry continued to duck, dive, and dodge his way out of being hit by any of the spells. This time though, he made sure to dodge a little earlier. Best not to get complacent. After all, as much as he adored Daphne and respected Tracey, he'd think that the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters would be far better at handling wands than two Fourth-Year Slytherins.

Better to be alive than to be a show-off, after all.

Every two to three spells that came his way, his wand would whip forwards to return a colour curse of his own, which the pair would have to dodge accordingly. He wasn't trying to hit them, of course. But it was good practice to shoot a few spells back once in a while to make it feel like a real duel.

A few more spells came his way, none of them even coming close to hitting him anymore, before the clock that sat on the teacher's desk snapped to life, ringing away to signify the end of the training session.

"Wow." Harry used his forearm to wipe the beads of sweat from his face, looking himself from the chest down to see if he had been hit at all. "That might be a new record."

"I wish ya weren't getting so good at this, Potter." Tracey sighed, disappointed, "I miss the early days when ya'd leave this classroom with pink robes and purple hair." After that incident, Harry started to shed his robes and set them aside on the teacher's table.

It had only been about a week since they had turned Daphne's Charms classes into basic dueling training for him, and Harry's DADA lessons with Daphne into transfigurations. His duelling had already improved tremendously from when they had first begun the training.

"We can definitely see the improvements. I did think green was more your colour, though." Daphne twirled her wand in her hand, smiling playfully as Harry made his way over to them to get his robes.

Without the strong legs, core, and stamina he currently had, Harry would never have been able to leave today's session without being painted five or six different colours.

"Go Snakes." Harry punched the air as if to support the Slytherin House's Quidditch team. The sarcasm in his voice was not lost on either of the girls. The historic record of losses against this particular Gryffindor Seeker was not something either of them really cared about though.

Daphne had no doubts that if this were a true, one-on-one duel with real spells, Harry would likely mop the floor with both her and Tracey without an ounce of trouble. None of the spells they had been casting had even come close to hitting him today, not unless he wanted it to. Not to mention he hadn't really been too serious about casting spells back at them. If he had, Daphne was certain she and Trace would be a multi-coloured mess by now.

To be honest, she couldn't imagine any other Fourth Year student taking on Harry and making him break a sweat. She'd like to see Malfoy try his luck with the bullying now, not knowing Harry's potential. At his current rate, he was likely on par with a Fifth or Sixth Year student, and could probably even give a Seventh Year student a run for their money, if he was lucky.

As if reading her thoughts, Tracey had voiced the same opinion.

"Honestly, I can't see any Fourth or Fifth Years beating ya, Harry." Tracey poked at her chin with her wand, thinking deeply. "I'd hate 'ta actually see you try."

"What can I say, Tracey?" Harry bowed slightly to the pair, thankful for their assistance once more, "I have good partners."

A ghost of a smile played on Daphne's lips at the mention of that particular word. Partners. It was nice to hear that coming out of his mouth. Of course, he had really meant training partner, but she was still satisfied with the feelings it gave her.

"Yes, yes." Tracey waved his compliments off, "What witch wouldn't give for a chance 'ta be your sparring partner? In any case, try not 'ta tire ya-self out too much, Harry. You two are goin' 'ta Hogsmeade this coming weekend after all."

The thought of going to Hogsmeade was exciting. He had still yet to speak to Dumbledore, of course. He had to wait for the announcement first, which would be happening any day now. Then he could plead his case to the Headmaster. Wouldn't really make much sense to approach the headmaster before it was announced, did it?

And if he wasn't going to let him go again this year, he'd have to take things into his own hands.

There was no way he was going to break his promise to Daphne and miss out on this date.

"Of course." Harry grinned at Daphne, "I can't wait."

Daphne returned his smile, the faintest flush on her face at his very apparent excitement.

She was getting more used to Harry's antics nowadays and no longer found herself blushing as much as she had been from the simplest of interactions. He still gave her butterflies in her stomach, of course, but it was a welcome surprise. She didn't think it was very good to be constantly flushing whenever he smiled her way.

Besides, she had a lot of time to digest all the things that had happened between the both of them since the school year started. It was only natural she was starting to get more and more comfortable in his presence. She noted he was stuttering a lot less now too, compared to back when they had first quite literally collided with each other.

Daphne didn't think she'd get over that particular stage so quickly given their lack of interaction over the last four years. But then again, with how she had been secretly watching and getting to know him over the years, perhaps it was normal that she was already getting used to it.

In any case, since the picnic, she had noted a significant improvement to her mornings after waking. It likely had to do with the dreams she had been having about their promised trip to Hogsmeade. Though no matter how many times she had the same dream, she couldn't really remember much about it. All she could remember were vague, fleeting feelings of being with Harry.

They were usually alone, far from the crowds.

The view had been beautiful.

Snow fell around them as they drank warm butterbeer from the same mug.

He made a cheesy joke, pulling the tankard away from her. She had laughed at how bad it was, fighting with him over the mug. Then they settled, taking in the scenery.

She could feel the warmth blooming in her belly from the hot drink, and in her chest from the way they were leaning against each other.

She could sense how at ease he was with her, and her with him.

All was quiet.

All was good.

Then she'd wake up back in her bed, feeling that same warmth still in her chest.

While not exactly 'romantic' in the traditional sense, the idea of just sharing a quiet moment with Harry was incredibly comforting to her and, hopefully, him. A shred of serenity amongst the insanity and chaos that he was forcefully embroiled in. Just a moment of peace and solitude. Away from all the terrible things that had, and would (undoubtedly), happen.

She had been counting down the days on her calendar and had her hopes quite high that they'd end up reenacting this particular recurring dream of hers.

"Alright, I've got to get going, ladies." Harry muttered as he put his robes back on, "I'll catch you tomorrow for transfigurations then?"

"See you then, Harry." Daphne waved him off. Tracey merely nodded.

*O*O*O*

All was quiet in Harry's shared room. Ron, Neville, Dean and Seamus were preoccupied in the downstairs common room playing Exploding Snap with each other. He could hear them roaring with laughter as Neville took the lead in the game. As much as Harry would've liked to have joined them in the fun and games, he had to tend to his schedules first.

Leaning back in his seat, he kicked his feet up onto his desk. In front of him was a large window that let him get a good view of the starry night skies.

He held his notebook in his hands, raising it high above his face, and started going through and sorting out his schedule in his mind once more.

Harry had been doing his best to make the most of the time he currently had before the games started. He had a gut feeling things would start to go wrong then and wanted to be as prepared as he possibly could before then.

Maximizing the time students were allowed to stay out gave him an additional four to five hours of spare time to work with. When used efficiently over the course of a week, it meant he had quite a lot of extra time.

Extra time that would be put towards training and studying.

Who'd have thought that Harry Potter, of all people, was trying to maximize the amount of time he'd get in a single day so he could study.

Preparing for the Dark Lord's inevitable return meant that sacrifices had to be made, unfortunately.

His eyes darted over to the previous page which was filled entirely with scribbles and notes, save for a small checklist at the top corner.

DADA. Charms. Dueling. Transfigurations. Escape.

The first three had been ticked off, while the latter two still remained unchecked. These were all things Harry planned to complete and refine throughout the year in preparation for the worst.

Daphne's involvement in the initial remedial lessons for DADA and Charms had been what kicked off this list for him. She had suggested he start learning other schools of magic as well, polishing up what he needed to know, but didn't.

So he had scrapped his old schedule and created a new one. No longer did he put as much time towards exercises. Now, the time and energy previously used for it was channelled towards completing the listed goals. And it wasn't as though he was some master at DADA, Charms, and Dueling, but he did think he was good enough to start working on his other priorities.

He was sure he'd come back to where he left off once he caught up in his other goals.

Harry managed a quiet groan, wondering if he was being a little too enthusiastic and overly prepared.

It had only been slightly more than a month and a half since they had started school, and Harry was running himself ragged with all the tasks and studies he had planned out for himself on top of his usual duties as a student.

How in God's name did Hermione figure out how to juggle all this? And with a Time Turner, no less! Her workload last year was absurd!

Yet, whenever he started to waver, the recent vision of that elderly muggle being struck with the Killing Curse flashed in his mind — his eyes wide and terrified even as he dropped dead and lifeless to the ground.

Harry took a deep breath, feeling his convictions strengthen at the thought of being prepared for the looming threats that awaited him in the future.

Still, it didn't mean he was any less tired about it. He really could use a well-deserved break.

The upcoming trip to Hogsmeade was sounding nicer and nicer by the minute.

Oh, Hogsmeade…

Harry was grinning like a dope again at the thought of an actual date with Daphne. It was clear to Harry that she liked him too.

Right?

Okay, maybe she did. He couldn't say with a hundred percent certainty. It was more like… fifty-fifty odds, really.

She either liked him or not.

Uh… That was how the odds worked, right?

In any case, maybe he'd even manage to muster up the courage to ask Daphne to be his girlfriend by the end of it if things went well.

It was funny that he could find the will to train and prepare himself for an encounter with the Dark Lord, but was now feeling himself get very self-conscious over the thought of asking Daphne to be his girlfriend.

He didn't know if Daphne would think that he was rushing her into it. But then again, no other girl had made Harry feel this desperate need to be with them.

The thought alone was making his stomach do jumping jacks. He really didn't want to ruin things between them. But… Well, he figured it would be best to cross that bridge when it came time for it.

As he glanced at the large banner that hung from the wall with the symbol of his house on it, he wondered about Hermione and Ron, and how he had yet to let them in on his somewhat secret relationship with the Slytherin girls. Surely the time he was spending away from his close friends was affecting their friendship in some capacity.

He knew Hermione wouldn't take too long to figure it out anyway. And she'd likely warm up to them quickly, but Ron was likely a different story. Even if they weren't nefarious like Malfoy, the redhead had a tough time trusting those bearing the mark of the snake.

Perhaps he'd ease Hermione into it with a formal introduction tomorrow, and see how things would go between them. Besides, it would be good if she could join in on their transfiguration sessions. It'd help a lot. Though his duelling was good enough for him to consider moving on from it, the transfiguration remedial lessons they had been having alongside the duelling ones felt like they were making very little headway as neither Daphne nor Harry were particularly skilled at that form of magic. He was hoping to remedy that soon with the introduction of Hermione into the fold.

Hell. Maybe he'd be able to knock two birds with one stone here.

Ha. It seemed like he really was planning for everything.

Speaking of plans… Harry glanced back to his notebook.

Tomorrow's plan was that he would be starting the day off with a short jog, then he'd go to the library after school, pick up some other books fit for Fourth Year transfigurations students and then head to the classrooms to study with Daphne and Tracey.

He'd have to slot in a quick talk with Hermione before then too, perhaps possibly to introduce her to Daphne and Tracey.

He sighed and lowered the book onto his face, shutting his weary eyes. And before he knew it, he had fallen asleep.

*O*O*O*

"Gwaak. Wake up, kid!"

Harry hadn't the slightest clue how long he had been asleep for. But the unfamiliar, squawking voice that definitely did not belong to any of his roommates had his eyes shooting open.

An intruder.

"Guh—Wha—?!"

Fists raised, Harry immediately leapt out of his chair in surprise, the notebook that was still on his face flying forwards and sailing right out the open window. Harry was blinking back the sleep, his upper body turning back and forth on guard against any would-be attackers.

There was a distressed fluttering of feathers and wings as the bird in front of him dodged the projectile, squawking again loudly.

"Calm down! Gwaaak. Just a delivery!"

A bird?

Harry blinked, seeing no apparent threat before him. Instead, a multicoloured bird with a large curved beak was perched at the open window, flapping its wings in protest at the sudden assault. A very fat envelope had been tossed onto Harry's table by a pair of clawed feet, presumably the object of the delivery.

"I'm sorry," He asked, very taken aback at the whole situation, especially in the manner of having been just rudely awoken. "You talk?"

"Never seen a parrot before?" The bird asked in a high-pitched, silly voice. Harry had, but only in picture books as a kid. The parrot was as large as Hedwig, but far more bright and colourful than her tasteful, muted white coat that was speckled with dots of black. This parrot had hues of reds, blues, and greens, all of which blended together in an eye-catching palette. Seeing those colours together reminded him greatly of Daphne and himself for some reason.

He hadn't the slightest idea that there were talking birds. Though, what with magic and all…

"Are you a magical bird?" He suddenly wondered if Hedwig could speak too.

"Sort of. Gwaak! Long story." The bird seemed very unenthusiastic as it spoke as if it were not keen on the discussion of its past. "Look kid, Mr Padfoot asked me to deliver this. Gwaaak!"

"Siri-! I mean, right. Padfoot. Of course." Harry contained his excitement lest he say the name of Magical Britain's currently Most Wanted Man out loud. He could still hear his friends downstairs playing their game. Still, best not to risk anything.

Sirius had finally gotten back to him!

Then he frowned, remembering that he had sent his notebook flying out of the window.

"Give me a moment." He drew his wand and stretched his free hand out in front of him. Pointing past the parrot and out the window, Harry waved his wand in a deft motion.

"Accio: Harry's Notebook."

There was a pause before Harry's notebook shot back up into view and flew right into his open palm at a controlled speed. Then he turned back to the talking bird and regarded it once more with a smile.

"Right. Sorry, I don't have anything to give you as a treat at the moment." He gestured to the room around him, "Unless you take Chocolate Frogs as payment?"

His tentative offer for a treat was refused with an indignant screech.

"Chocolate?! Flew four days! Bahamas to Britain - just to be offered poison?! Gwak!" The parrot cried with great annoyance in its voice, "I'm going to the owls!"

And just like that, the sudden and strange encounter quickly ended as fast as it had started. The exotic tropical bird took flight off the windowsill and off into the dark night skies, heading towards the school's Owlery.

Hm. Perhaps he'd find and apologise to the talking bird another day. Perhaps with bits of bacon and bread.

As the parrot vanished into the night, Harry wasted no time in grabbing the fattened envelope and quickly made his way to the comfortable privacy of his bed. He was certain that the group downstairs were bound to come up soon.

A short jump had him diving back first onto the cushy bed.

Drawing the curtains, he got comfortable amongst his pillows before jittery hands opened the envelope. He drew out the sheer volume of letters Lord Black had crammed into it.

It seemed that Sirius had a lot to say.

So, now comfy, he started to go through them.

The letters began as followed:

*O*O*O*

"Dearest H.

Thank you for writing to me. It's been such a pleasure to see how far you've come in just the last few months alone. I still remember that skinny boy I scared the pants off at the Knight Bus. You truly have changed for the better. Not just in looks, but in your brains too. Your results are astounding! At that age, Prongs, Moony, and I were good, but still busy dicking around!"

Harry smiled at the fond memory of his first true meeting with the Animagus, Sirius Black, and his large, black hound form. What a tremendous difference a year of hard work, dedication, and effort had made for him.

He also noted that a particular name was omitted from this letter. And for good reason too.

Damned rat bastard.

"I know your burdens and ours (at the time) aren't really comparable, Pup. You're supposed to be having the best of your teenage years now, but you've been subjected to going through Hell and back in the last few years. I can't say too much in regard to your recent 'visions'. Nothing good can come of seeing any of that. But, a silver lining would be to treat that as a warning of the future. I trust you will know what to do when the time comes.

Regardless, I'm proud of you, Pup. Of everything you've done and accomplished.

I know Prongs and Doe would be too…

[There was a splotch of ink punctuating the sentence that may have indicated Sirius left the tip of the quill against the paper, lost in his thoughts of a time now long past.]

…of how much you've overcome and how far you've gotten, all on your own."

He felt a twinge in his chest at those words. Happiness that he was on the right track. Incredible sadness that his parents could not bear witness to the young man he had turned out to be.

He had always wondered what they would have thought about him.

Hearing it straight from the words of the man who had been all but brothers in blood with his father had Harry biting back the tears. He sniffled for a moment, trying to collect himself.

If not for them, then for her.

"Your mother's eyes aside, you're the spitting image of Prongs, except far more muscular. I can only imagine how much more muscles you've put on and developed in the months since our last communication. Good job, Pup. I'm sure you're popular amongst the girls, eh?"

Harry snickered at that. An image of Daphne popped into his mind. She rolled her eyes at him from the comments that definitely bolstered his ego. She mouthed the words 'Don't get an even bigger head, Potter' to him. He shushed her.

"Speaking of girls… Truth be told, I couldn't get enough of them! During my time in Hogwarts, well, let's just say that I've tasted my fair few from all of the houses, eh? Nothing like—

[Harry couldn't make out the rest of the words. A majority of them had been struck out repeatedly with ink and quill. Whatever Sirius had written down, he likely had gotten carried away and only realised after that it was a little too graphic, and clearly was not meant for his young godson's eyes.]

Ignore that last part. Your father, on the other hand, was getting rejected over and over by your mother! Sounds like you're doing a bit better than he was. Who knows? Maybe there might be more than just one girl in your life. I know some witches wouldn't mind. Not in my case though. Had to keep all of them separate, lest… another incident happen…"

Harry couldn't help but blush as he read the words his godfather had penned down in whatever part of the Bahamas he was now at. Undoubtedly the man had been surrounded by bikini-clad babes if his letter was any indication of his interests. Still, judging by his words, Sirius had spent a lot of intimate time with the ladies in Hogwarts. And whatever had happened when they found out about each other may have been catastrophic.

Harry didn't really know what that was like. His current interests lay with Daphne exclusively. Though, he would be lying if he hadn't lingered on the thought of being in a relationship with more than one witch.

Multiple girls…

He couldn't stop himself from thinking about other girls within the periphery of his life, appearing before him with pleasant, friendly smiles on their faces.

Hermione. Tracey. Ginny.

Hell, even Astoria and the numerous other female professors were there.

The idea of Professors McGonagall and Trelawney potentially having a thing for Harry did make him uncomfortable.

Harry shuddered, dispelling the thoughts. He prayed he wouldn't end up falling in his godfather's steps in that department anytime soon. As appealing as it would have been to the average boy to be in the company of many girls his age, the last thing he wanted when it came to romance was to juggle multiple girls at once.

School was already taking up most of his life right now. And so was trying to find any reasonable excuse to spend with Daphne.

Having to date multiple girls on top of that?

That sounded extra exhausting.

He continued to read the letter, his cheeks still alit with embarrassment at the idea of so many witches having a crush on him.

"Well, in any case, a Slytherin, eh? Your gal must be quite the catch if she's got your attention. And from what you've mentioned of her, she is! Beauty with the brains and wits to match? What more could you ask for? Ah! Young love! Look at you, taking after your dear ol' godfather! I couldn't possibly ask for a better godson!"

Harry's blush grew as he remembered how vividly he had described Daphne to his godfather.

Still, he read on.

"Women can be 'challenging' to tackle sometimes, my boy. But from what you've told me, it seems like you're doing things right. Hells, it sounds like you're doing more for her than I did with some of mine! The most important piece of advice I give to you now is simply: to be a teen too, not just a hero. You've spent too many years involved in battles you never asked to be in. You need to go on dates with her and have fun. Make mistakes. Learn from it. Be honest with each other."

For a brief moment, Harry wondered if there really was going to be a chance things would be this easy this year. A break from all the nonsense would be nice. Then he remembered what Daphne had said the last time around. About how he had been involved in some kind of trouble every year.

Hell, with the Goblet of Fire looming over them, and the Triwizard Tournament on the horizon, Harry expected himself to be participating in them against his will — even if he wasn't of age.

Just seemed like a trend at this point, really.

And as the saying went, 'Expect the worst, and you will never be disappointed'.

In Harry's case, he'd probably still be disappointed. Just not surprised.

Glancing back to the letter, he began to read the last of Sirius' words.

"And my other important piece of advice you should heed…"

Wow. He was being awfully serious using words like 'heed'.

Ha. Sirius being serious.

"...I can't offer you too many details now at your young age, but when you two do finally get intimate, definitely use protection — lest you're keen on pups of your own!"

Harry choked and sputtered on his bed as he finished reading the sentence, his eyes wide as saucers. He wanted to bury his head into the heap of pillows that braced his back and scream into it. Instead, he swallowed his embarrassment and let it stew as thoughts of all kinds raced through his mind.

Kids?

The thought had never crossed his mind, but he'd be lying if it didn't sound good.

Wait. Did she even want kids?

Wait… Did he?

And how would their kids look? Surely stunning if Daphne was going to be their mom.

Why was he thinking so far ahead? They weren't even dating yet!

It'd take him a few moments to recollect himself, but when he did, the boy now greatly resembled a ripened tomato. Still, he put aside this particular piece of information for a much later date.

Perhaps having children with his crush was still a little too early for him to be thinking about considering he had yet to even ask her to be his girlfriend. While he appreciated the advice, Sirius was skipping a lot of steps in between.

Finally, Harry picked up the second last of the letters. This one was significantly shorter and had the text squarely in the middle.

"Oh, and of course I remember what happened last year regarding Hogsmeade and the lack of a guardian's approval. Please give Dumbledore the next letter, signed by myself, to grant you permission to go on any future trips.

Have fun, Pup.

Yours faithfully,

S.B.

P.S: No need to write back. I'm coming home. Talk to you soon."

As he read the conclusion to one of the final letters, Harry set it down with the rest, which had now formed a large semi-circle around him. In his grasp, he had the last unread one, meant to be delivered to Dumbledore.

He almost couldn't believe the news! Sure it hadn't been too long, but Sirius was on his way back. He wondered if he'd be able to see Sirius somehow soon.

And the shaggy man had, thankfully, given him the approval he needed to attend Hogsmeade! Just in time too!

Hopefully, Dumbledore wouldn't mind taking a letter of consent from a wanted man, even if they both knew he was innocent.

It would save him and Daphne a lot of trouble, and he wouldn't need to sneak around the Hogsmeade trip too. It would be a rather tedious date if he had to spend most of it under the cover of an invisibility cloak while Daphne pretended to be alone.

He leaned back into his bed and pillows, a satisfied smile on his face as he thought about what awaited him this weekend.

*O*O*O*

When the professor had released the horde of excited students from their final lesson of the day, the class had emptied in quite a hurry. The only one who had been left behind, still packing their things and making sure everything was accounted for, was none other than Hermione.

Hermione Granger was a studious student. That much, anyone knew. She liked books, she liked studying, and she liked having good grades. Nay, the best grades possible.

She also liked boys as much as the next teenage witch, though she just kept that mostly to herself. Hermione found boy-crazed witches to be quite annoying, what with the endless drivel they'd discuss about if this wizard was hotter than the other. It was far less interesting than discussing what they had learned in a school for literal magic!

This was a dream come true for some muggles!

Hermione sighed silently as even their professor had departed, staring blankly at the book she held in her hand silently.

However, in recent times, she'd find herself getting mildly distracted from her favourite activity during lessons — listening to lectures. It had started out slow and unnoticeable. At first, she'd noticed she hadn't been listening to one of their professors but had chalked it up to a lack of sleep. Or she'd catch herself just staring into thin air for a few seconds before snapping back into focus.

But it hadn't taken her long to realise that it only occurred whenever Harry was in her field of view.

Arguably the closest friend she had made since she had first stepped foot on the Hogwarts Express all those years ago, Harry Potter was now the strange source of her distractions.

At first, she didn't know why. But being as smart as she was, she eventually deduced it over the course of a few weeks of hard thinking.

They had spent the last few years as very close friends, getting into all sorts of trouble and hijinks, but being as small and scrawny as he had been, Hermione had never noticed him in any way more than a little brother.

Yes, he had fantastic traits that Hermione liked. And also had plenty she didn't.

But his sudden transformation over their third year, along with the impressive improvements in his educational results, it had suddenly made his past and present selves stand out. Now it was the same Harry, who was brave, kind, and self-sacrificial, but also hunkier — and far more interested in books than he had ever been before.

Add all those traits together and you got Hermione's ideal man! And since she had noticed, she was starting to see him as more of a man than a brother now.

Hermione concluded that she may be developing what might have been the early stages of a crush on her dear friend!

Especially after suddenly seeing Harry meet up with Daphne at Charms class a few weeks ago. She had peeked around the corner after he had excused himself and saw how intimately the two were acting with each other. And even as inexperienced as she may have been around boys, she could see the signs the two were giving off that were as clear as day.

They were friends at the very least. More, if she wasn't mistaken. She recognised the look on Daphne's face when she had been speaking to Harry.

It was the unmistakable face of a girl who was deeply in love.

There had been an unfamiliar pang of… Well, she had never felt that way before so she couldn't really put her finger on the right emotion. It was something akin to a mix of jealousy and disappointment. The closest thing she could say it felt like was when she and Harry had fought last year over the reporting of the Firebolt to the professors. That had been a particularly sad moment for Hermione, who thought she had irreparably damaged their friendship.

Instead, now she was really just more disappointed that Harry hadn't put trust in her to share about this particular part of his life. After their fight and when they had made amends, Hermione thought they had grown closer.

And based on the way Ron wasn't included in these conversations with Daphne, it was obvious he wasn't privy to this knowledge either. Though, she could tell why he hadn't mentioned it to Ron. He wasn't exactly the biggest fan of any Slytherins, in the same way that Malfoy held great disdain for any Gryffindors.

She was sure Harry had his reasons for being secretive about it.

Still, the emotions struck her heart hard.

Then he started to spend more time with Daphne after that day. Well, she hadn't personally seen it, but even with her basic sleuthing skills, she knew well and good that Harry was going to meet Daphne based entirely on the fact that neither Daphne nor Harry were ever in the Great Hall for dinners at the same time. Tracey Davis was likely with them too, as she'd be missing on some nights, but alone, without Daphne, on others.

Hermione obviously knew Harry was spending time with Daphne. Plus, he had been making up all these terrible excuses that Ron somehow kept buying.

But an idiot, Hermione Granger, was not.

Ultimately, she didn't know what Harry was up to without them, but she was sure he was at least being safe.

Regardless of her interest in the situation, after that first incident, she decided not to snoop.

And she had noticed Daphne's well-hidden anger that day Professor Moody had shown them the Unforgivables. The facade of a calm, cool face, betrayed only by the whitening knuckles of a clenched fist. A distinctive burning in that stern sapphire stare that wanted to cut Professor Moody down for the repugnant things he had suggested about Harry's family.

At the very least, it seemed like Daphne was as protective of Harry as she was, and showed it in a different, more controlled way. That at least reassured Hermione that Daphne wasn't planning some kind of nefarious plan on her fellow Gryffindor.

She snapped back to reality, realising that she was still staring at the book in her hands. A little self-conscious, she cleared her throat and continued to pack.

After all, whatever this whole situation with the Slytherins was, she trusted Harry to tell her eventually.

Of course, she had no clue just how soon that would be.

After she had stacked the small pile of books she had been dragging around all day for lessons, Hermione hoisted them up with both hands under the pile. The books were so high, they reached up to her nose. She could barely see past it, with most of her potion's textbook and the large cauldron on its cover obscuring a majority of her view.

Still, she navigated her way up the flight of stairs and out of the classroom, all with little to no vision. She had four years of experience walking like this and was very much used to it.

Though, as soon as she stepped out of the empty doorway, a familiar face just barely popped into view on her left of her periphery.

"Can I help with that?" Harry had pushed himself off the wall he had been leaning against, having been waiting for her to leave the class.

The surprise appearance had Hermione jumping out of her skin.

A soft shriek and a horrified hop from the diminutive Gryffindor caused her tower of books to tumble forwards. They toppled from the top of the pile, falling towards the floor and leaving Hermione with just the last book she was holding from the bottom. But Harry's deft hands quickly snatched them out of the air, tucking a number of them against the crook of his arms and filling both of his hands.

"Harry!" She cried, a soft smile somehow finding its way onto her shocked features. She thwacked him in the arm softly with her last remaining book. "Don't scare me like that!"

Harry chuckled apologetically, scratching his head with one of her hard-cover tomes.

Hermione's load and vision now significantly cleared, she gave the boy a proper once over.

The handsome teen, now bearing a number of books on himself, looked like he had taken the term 'equipped with knowledge' a little too literally.

"But thank you. I'm glad my books aren't damaged." She cleared her throat, casting a critical eye over all of her belongings that were now embraced in Harry's hug.

"I think I might be after you hit me." Harry gave her a playful frown, to which she had rolled her eyes at.

Then the thoughts came back to her, and her mouth moved before she could stop herself.

"Don't you have somewhere to be at this time?"

Oops. It sounded like she was bitter and aware of the situation between him and Daphne.

She was not. For either.

…Okay. Maybe just a little bit. For both.

But she hoped that her calm tone was an indication of her feeling otherwise.

Completely unaware of her thoughts, Harry seemed to actually perk up.

"Right. That's what I wanted to talk to you about. Do you have a bit of time? This might take a while." His right hand was stacking her books up into another pile, which he held up next to his waist, supported only with just his left hand. Harry was making it look effortless. It had not been a light stack of books.

"Sure, Harry." Hermione shrugged. Her plans for tonight weren't much besides reading a good book. Whatever Harry had in store was likely far more interesting though.

"Come then," He beckoned her with his free hand, "It's not too far from here."

And so, the pair departed down the hall, with Hermione now very curious about what lay in store for her.

*O*O*O*

Harry had dragged her into an unused classroom with, for some odd reason, very colourful walls.

"Right, well, before I ask you what I need to, I also have to come clean with you..."

With just the two of them, he had revealed to her everything that she had been wondering about the last month.

The inciting incident that had happened between himself and Daphne, as well as how their strange, newfound friendship had kicked off into remedial lessons and training sessions after school. It explained a lot. And made sense as to how the Ice Queen of Slytherin had ended up befriending Harry.

It seemed as though Daphne was not as chilly as the rumours had pegged her out to be, based on Harry's observations and interactions with her.

Though it did seem as though he had omitted some of the details of their first meeting, based on how red-faced he had gotten.

Harry had also explained why he hadn't initially told her or Ron. He admitted he was a little fearful they would jump the gun, what with Ron being Ron, and her with the situation with the Firebolt last year. She understood and respected his reasoning, even if she didn't necessarily agree with it.

Still, Hermione was very pleased that Harry was finally putting his trust in her. It made her feel much more at ease, enough that she could finally ask him what she had been suspecting for the last few weeks.

"Do you like her?" Hermione had asked, her voice low and quiet. Even with just the two of them, the room felt impossibly tense now. She prayed he didn't see the tiny flickering hope in her eyes.

Harry paused at the question, looking rather surprised that Hermione of all people, the one who seemed to care least about people's social lives, had been the one to ask him that.

"I— I mean…" He sputtered and gaped like a fish on dry land for a second before he seemed to collect himself. Then he met Hermione's gaze.

"Yes."

He had said it with the utmost conviction. Like he had promised himself never to lie about it.

The sliver of hope she had futilely been holding onto was snuffed out, and a part deep inside of Hermione wilted before it could even properly start growing.

"Oh." She strained to get the words out, praying that he didn't ask why she sounded like she had just been strangled.

Ouch. Heartbreak had hurt a little more than she had expected. She did her best not to show it, but it felt like someone had just taken a quill to her heart.

"...Are you two… dating?" Harry didn't seem to have noticed her discomfort. He was glancing towards the floor now, far too caught up in his own thoughts to notice Hermione's.

"No... Or rather, not… yet? I mean… Hmm… I'm planning to ask her out soon." Harry's eyes darted to the door as if expecting Daphne herself to be walking through at any moment.

"Do you know if she likes you back?" Hermione continued, despite already knowing the answer.

His aura changed immediately. Immediately he began to gesticulate with his hands as he found his words.

"Oh, I hope so. We get along so well… The way she makes me feel… It's… different from anyone else I know. She makes me happy. Very happy." As he spoke, his hands clasped close to his heart. The smile he bore on his face as he thought about the blonde witch had Hermione's heart twisting into a knot.

Maybe one day she'd find a guy like Harry. One that would have that very same smile as he talked about her. One that would cherish her even for as little time as he had known her. Of course, Hermione had no idea that both parties had been keeping a watchful eye on the other since the very beginning.

But that would have to wait. For now, Hermione took a deep breath and sighed, doing her best to manage the maelstrom of emotions with what little she had read about Occlumency. It wasn't much, but Hermione would take whatever she could get to wrestle her feelings back under control.

She breathed.

In…

Out…

In. Out.

Hermione Granger was smart. And smart people knew when they had no more moves to play and were beaten. Hells. Some might even say she never even got to the board to play. She had simply been too late.

It was a little shallow, but perhaps in another universe, Hermione would have seen past his scrawny exterior a little earlier and fallen first for all the traits in Harry that had made him — well… Harry.

She didn't know if Daphne had noticed long ago, or if she had only made a move recently because of it, but the fact remained that Daphne had moved and gotten Harry's attention.

Unlike receiving a bad grade, she wasn't going to keep trying to pursue it. To earn it back. She knew love worked under a different set of rules, and wasn't the type of girl to try and hope that a couple would break up just so they'd be open to dating again. Especially when they were clearly happy with each other, even if they weren't dating yet.

Hermione conceded, knowing that she stood no chance, and would eventually move on in time. Logically, there was no point in beating herself up over this. It wasn't as if she had a crush on Harry since they first met, so thankfully the blow wasn't as great as it could have been. Still, that didn't mean it didn't hurt at all. She'd probably have to address these feelings that plagued her soon enough in the future.

Funnily enough, even through the bitter emotions she was feeling, there was an odd sense of happiness she had found just beneath the surface. For Harry.

"I… I can only wish you two the best." She levelled her chocolate-coloured eyes at him, a genuine look of joy in them that outweighed the hurt. "I might not know Daphne well, but you better treat her proper, Harry. Don't you dare break her heart."

Harry had found love. If anyone deserved it, it was definitely him. And what kind of a 'best friend'

would she be if she didn't celebrate her friend's happiness?

Harry beamed a large grin at her. Seeing her blatant approval of their relationship seemed to take a weight off of him.

"I wouldn't dream of it... Thank you, Hermione. Your support really means a lot to me. And I swear, with all that I have, I will cherish her."

Again, there was that unbreakable conviction in his eyes, that unrelenting devotion in his voice…

Hermione couldn't help but smile.

Instead of wallowing in her own self-pity and the indirect rejection, she wanted to refocus her attention on the main topic at hand, and the reason he had brought her here today.

"Okay, enough about that for now." She changed topics, not really wanting to dwell on it much longer, "How does all that tie into what you need me for?"

Harry nodded and then returned to his explanation.

"Basically, we're looking for another student to help tutor us, mostly me, with transfiguration training. A teacher, if you would." The determined look in his eyes was one Hermione was familiar with.

It took her a second to register it, but Hermione couldn't help but feel flustered when she finally realised what he was asking for.

"Teacher? You mean me?!" She pressed her hand between her breasts, eyes wide at the offer. No one liked it when she would prattle on about learning and performing spells properly. And now there was an offer for her to do so with willing participants!

"I wanted the best. So I'm asking for the best. You are the smartest student in our year, after all." Harry's proud smile had her blushing up a storm, "There is one other thing I need help with too, but that can wait till after."

The invitation alone had been exciting enough to temporarily wash off the feelings of sadness. As sad as some might have seen it, the idea of getting to teach was frankly very exciting to her, especially in one of her favourite subjects!

"Why are you so sure I'm going to say 'yes', Harry?" Hermione's usual attitude with him returned, now taking a playful tone with the other Gryffindor. Harry laughed, as if the answer was blindingly obvious — which, to him, it was.

He took on a wizened, sagely tone, all the while stroking an imaginary beard, before regarding Hermione like Professor Dumbledore would.

"In all my years, I've not known Hermione Granger to be the type of person to turn willing students down."

She snorted at his impression. Of course, Harry knew her well enough to know that she'd never say no to this opportunity. Besides, if she ever wanted to become a professor at Hogwarts, this wouldn't be too bad of a first step. She considered it for a moment longer before ultimately nodding, earning a whoop of joy from her best friend.

"When should we begin?" She asked.

"Are you free now?" Harry spared her a chagrined look.

Leave it to Harry to drag her into his plans at the last minute. Some things would never change with him, it seemed.

Hermione sighed, whipping out her transfiguration textbook from the pile Harry had helped carry over. At least she had the textbooks on hand. Guess dragging around that heap of books had some use outside of classes after all.

She waggled the book at Harry.

"Fine. But you owe me for this."

"You and everyone else, it seems." Harry laughed again, "Put it on my tab!"

*O*O*O*

It would be minutes later that Daphne entered the classroom, telling Harry that Tracey couldn't make it for today's remedial lessons, and Hermione found it rather difficult to meet her gaze.

Daphne had then voiced her surprise at seeing Hermione here, not having known that Harry was going to be inviting her into their group, and Hermione desperately wanted to disappear from sight.

Even if the rumours of her frigid personality weren't true, it didn't make it any less intimidating, nor awkward, for the socially inept Gryffindor to be meeting her best friend's soon-to-be girlfriend.

But Daphne had been nothing like the rumours. In fact, the gorgeous blonde had been downright warm and friendly to her. It was as if she had been waiting to befriend Hermione for quite some time now.

They had spent a few minutes getting acquainted with each other before Hermione remembered that they were on a rather tight schedule.

Standing by the teacher's table, Hermione had chalk in one hand and her book in the other. Before her, Harry and Daphne had pulled a pair of dusty chairs and tables for themselves. They sat, listening attentively as she began her lesson, scribbling on the board as she spoke.

"Good evening class, today we'll be tackling the advanced fundamentals of transfigurations for Fourth Year students. I am your lecturer, P—Prof—"

There was a profoundly disappointed sigh before the squeaky voice continued. Green and blue eyes twinkled with delight at Hermione's apparent shame at calling herself a title she didn't believe she deserved.

"Professor Gr—Granger..." The girl filled the blackboard with her name and the new title, her other hand trying to hide her reddening face from the twin pair of grins that looked like it should have come from Fred and George instead of Harry and Daphne.

The pair had insisted she used the term 'professor' on herself, as they themselves had during their respective remedial lessons — on the 'basis' of 'taking it seriously'. Harry also believed it'd help her a bit with slowly building up her confidence in the event she did choose to pursue a career in education.

Undeterred by her students' mild antics, she continued.

"Hopefully in due time, we will be able to accomplish Harry's goal — being able to manipulate difficult objects, such as the floor, as per Professor Moody's suggestion." She indicated where they were starting from with a large X. Then she began walking, drawing a very long line across the board before ultimately reaching the end of the board, where she punctuated it with another X.

Harry whistled.

It was a very long line.

Hermione looked at Harry, addressing him with some uncertainty.

"This is not going to be easy, Harry. Not even I can do anything like that yet. But even if I am unable to, I will try my utmost best to help you get closer to your goal." Then she sucked in a deep breath and straightened out, trying her best to imitate Professor McGonagall, before returning back to both of her students.

"Now class, from what I've been told, we have a lot of catching up to do in order to hit that goal in these remedial lessons. Let's not waste any more time and get started!"

Not wanting to spend any more time dilly-dallying, Hermione's much sterner, professor personality took over, immediately drilling into the pair on the fundamentals of fourth-year transfigurations they had been struggling with for the last week.

Harry and Daphne were immediately put to the test, being forced to study for a quiz they would have in an hour, and then being tasked to change beetles into buttons, which they were already practising in their normal classes but failing.

As she hovered over her two new diligent students as they worked over the tasks she had handed them, Hermione had a small smirk forming on her face.

She could get used to this.

*O*O*O*O*

Chapter 5: End

*O*O*O*O*

Important A/N 1:

Hi guys!

Remember what I said about Hogsmeade being in this chapter?

I lied. Well, not really.

It was all technically in one chapter before I split it apart. So if you're reading this as soon as I've released this chapter, it'll already have been uploaded, so feel free to read on!

I figured it was probably going to be a pain to read a single chapter with so many words in it. It sure was a pain trying to write it all in one single document. Too many pages to read through for writing and editing purposes. Bleh.

Do let me know how your reading experience is affected if I end up breaking future chapters into two if it exceeds like 10k words or something.

I hope I didn't go overboard with Hermione's heartbreak, but I wanted to depict a little bit of it somewhere in the story. I hope it wasn't 'too much'. Don't worry though, I do have plans for Hermione's romantic interest after the story has concluded.

It'll likely be an epilogue of the epilogue kind of situation.

Less Important A/N:

I also just wanted to get it out there that I'm a huuuuge HxHr shipper. I really don't like the canon pairing. I wish I could tell you why besides my personal preferences.

Maybe I'm just biased and really just don't like Ron.

Maybe it even contributed to me never finishing the books since I knew the outcome of their relationships.

Ha! Just kidding… or am I?

So no hate to yall, but there won't be Ron and Hermione in this fic. Sorry!