# 12 Fail-Safe Ways To Charm Witches

crystalline_blades

Rating: G
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 7
Published: 03/08/2007
Last Updated: 19/08/2007
Status: Completed

‘This isn’t your average book. Its pure gold…Explains everything you need to know about girls. You’d be surprised; it’s not all about wandwork, either.’ What happens when Harry puts Ron’s birthday present to good use?

## 1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Harry Potter but I do own this plot.

Author’s note: Thanks to Kim who has helped me with this piece. Love you dear!

Harry never ceased to marvel at how his life had turned out, how there was always something that was always happening, that was infuriatingly, not part of any plan for his life. It was almost as if at every corner he turned there would be something new (and terrifying) awaiting him, almost annoyingly.

He didn’t have any fixed plan for his life of course. But he did know that all he wanted was a quiet and peaceful life.

Which was not going to happen if he was Harry Potter.

Sitting in his room which had not been cleaned in a while simply because he did not feel like doing it, he began to recall all the unplanned and unwelcome things that had happened in his life.

When he was in his first year at school, he had hoped for some friends, adequate results, not too many scrapes with teachers. And what had he got? A troll, a professor that had two faces, one of which belonged to Voldermort and was on the back of his professor’s head, that had tried to kill him for some stone that could make you live forever and gold.

Second year. He had wanted a slightly less harrowing year. And instead, he was entreated to his newly found talent of being able to speak to snakes and being associated with the heir of Slytherin who turned out to be none other than Voldermort.

Third year. He had known that his year wouldn’t be normal, judging from the look of the past two and he was right. He had learned about the two most important people in his life in that year, one of which was thought to be a convicted mass murderer on the run from jail and a werewolf. Definitely not your average year.

Fourth year. He had given up on having any sense of normalcy in his school life, but still that shred of hope lingered…quashed when he realized that a Death Eater had put his name into a cup whereby he was now a champion representing his school, fighting for his life against dragons, Blast-Ended Skrewts and eventually Voldermort. And the fact that this competition was going to give him ‘eternal fame and glory’? Brilliant. Just brilliant.

If there was one thing he had learned, it was never to expect anything normal or planned in his life. Things just happened and he had to go along with them.

He had thought that if he was to defeat Voldermort once and for all, all these unplanned things would just stop happening to him and he would finally be able to live a life that wasn’t fraught with possibilities but concrete plans for the future. After all, all these unplanned events in his life had all been linked to Voldermort in one way or another and Harry and the rest of the wizarding world would be glad to see the last of him.

But he had learned again, how wrong it was to expect a peaceful, normal life after fulfilling his destiny. The word ‘normal’, was not to be associated with his name. In fact, it could almost be considered as a joke, that he could, one day lead such a life.

After the war, he thought that everything was going to be alright. That he would no longer have to wake up in the middle of the night, his mind full of the disconcerting scenes of him as Voldermort, performing acts of terror upon innocent subordinates. That he would no longer have to take everything that came at every twist in his life, but that he could actually plan something for his life and follow it through.

It wasn’t just him who celebrated the end of the war. Everything seemed to fall into place, after the demise of Voldermort. Mr. Weasley continued his foray into the intriguing life of the Muggles, Mrs. Weasley kept herself busy looking after Bill’s daughter, George went on running the Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes which had expanded rapidly into a chain of shops all over the wizarding world.

He had gotten back with Ginny, and Ron with Hermione. Everything was the way it should be.

Or so he had thought.

The first few weeks had been bliss, he remembered, the feeling of something that resembled freedom, had been so intoxicating to him, so refreshing, and he prayed that he would never be burdened by anything again, that he would feel this way forever. He had spent so much time with Ginny, talking, having fun and mostly snogging. It had felt so right, so normal and he reveled in that feeling that had been utterly new to him.

But things had changed. He realized that he could no longer talk to Ginny about things other than Quidditch or school. She hadn’t been on the hunt with him for the Hoxcruxes and wouldn’t, couldn’t understand how it had been for him, Ron and Hermione. Snogging and having fun, he realized, weren’t the only things that constituted of a normal life. Finding it harder than ever to have a proper, more in-depth conversation with her, he had decided to break things off for awhile.

He had begun spending his time with Ron and Hermione then, but realized that things had changed between the three of them as well now that Ron and Hermione had hooked up. He couldn’t be in the room with them for more than five minutes, without Ron snogging Hermione or shooting her what could only be described as tender looks across the room. He had felt weird at first, and then later it had gotten so that he couldn’t spend more than 5 minutes in a conversation with them.

He had brushed aside his feelings momentarily, dismissing it as being something that was normal to feel when your two best friends began dating. But he also couldn’t deny the fact that these feelings were becoming more and more intense, so much so that he could no longer bear to look at them holding hands, or kissing, but had to look away.

He knew then that what he felt about them dating was no longer normal.

He hated to see them snuggled up together in a corner of the room, whispering soppy things to one another. He hated to see Ron reach out for her hand when they were out walking on the street and grasp it in his. And most of all, he hated to see Ron touch her or even kiss her, be it a peck on the cheek or a full kiss on her lips. He no loner felt annoyed, isolated by the barrier that had formed between the three of them when Ron and Hermione began dating, but rather a molten, deep-rooted jealousy taking hold of him.

In short, he had fallen for Hermione.

Denial was futile. He found himself thinking about her constantly, thinking about how he would have loved to see her and Ron break up. He knew it was wrong, to wish such horrible things upon Ron, especially when his best friend was so happy but he had no control over this anymore. He knew what he was feeling was completely out of his character but yet he could no longer take the visual image of the both of them in his mind any longer.

But how, how was he going to change the way Hermione thought about him, when she seemed to be so blissfully happy with Ron? He could see it in her, the way she gave a different sort of smile to Ron than to him, the way she welcomed Ron’s caresses, rather than recoiling from Ron’s touch as he would have preferred to see.

The jealousy surged up once more in him as he thought about how they had been kissing one another in front of him this afternoon, not even caring that he was watching them, rage at Ron filling his entire being…

He kicked out at the table that was opposite his bed, out of sheer frustration at not being able to change the way things were now and the piles of books and parchments that had been used by the three of them as research for the Hoxcruxes had now been swept to the floor, making it messier than it had already been.

Harry swore, and knelt down to try and restore some of the items to its rightful place. Just as he had picked up several thick volumes of his old DA manuals and some pieces of parchment that were on the best way to destroy the Hoxcruxes, another slim book slipped out of the pile he was carrying and onto the floor.

Carefully placing the stack onto the table once more, he stooped to pick up the book, holding it as he studied its violet cover emblazoned with the words in bold lime green, 12 Fail-Safe Ways To Charm Witches. It was still relatively new, as Ron had only given it to him last year as a birthday present and Harry had seen no reason to take it on the hunt, seeing as how he would be too busy fighting Voldermort to study how to win girls over, and had shoved it under some piles of Hermione’s books and research papers, forgetting all about it until now.

Interest piqued, he opened it, thumbing through the book randomly. Each chapter seemed to be rather short, giving simple elaborations about each tip, but from what he had scanned through, it seemed to be rather good.

Flopping himself back down on the bed, he wondered if this book was really as good as it said it was, and whether it could help him to win her over. As he flipped the pages to the first chapter, he decided that it was worth a shot.

At the most, it would make for interesting reading.

AHHH! The ending sucked but I hope you guys will help me by reviewing as to whether I should continue!

## 2. Getting Started

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of HP but I do own this little plot.

Author’s note: Thanks so much for all the reviews you guys have given me. I’ll try my best to update whenever I can but because my exams are approaching, I may not be able to update as frequently but I promise I will update whenever I am free.

So you want to win the witch of your dreams over? Well, look no further because 12 Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches is here to help! WE will be able to help you win the witch of your dreams over in 12 easy steps! So waste no more time simply pining for the lucky lady, let’s go into the first basic step of how to charm a witch!

If the witch of your dreams is not yet a friend of yours, I strongly suggest this:

1. Compliment her.

Compliments are always the best way to break the ice. And if the witch is a friend of yours, compliments will also help to strengthen that friendship and make it into something more. But do remember you must be subtle in giving these compliments and do not compliment her too generously or too often, this would make her suspicious of your intentions and that is the last thing you need.

Compliments as such could range from what she is wearing (which is probably the most popular compliment a wizard can give to a witch) or something wonderful about her. You are in love with her, are you not? So it shouldn’t be too hard to think of something nice about her and tell her that. Every compliment should be given with the intention of making that witch happy and therefore you should know at least what the witch takes pride in (e.g. her Quidditich skills, her marvelous talent for essay writing.) Compliment her on that, and the desired effect will materialize.

Witches often need to be told how pretty they are, or how smart they are, and if you tell her all that, you, my friend, are well on your way to winning her over and making her yours!

-- 12 Ways to Charm Witches, Chapter 1, Getting Started

Harry stood by the door, waiting for her to appear in the living room. Shaking back the sleeve of his coat, he glanced at his watch. It was already 8.45 and he had to be at work by 9.30, just as she did.

The three of them had gotten an apartment together after the war and resumed their lives as if nothing had changed. Ron had decided to try out for a spot on the Puddlemore United Quidditch Team and had gotten in as a reserve for now. But still, he often spoke of his job with a lot of excitement and Harry couldn’t help but feel thrilled for his best friend who had been a rather good Keeper on the Gryffindor Quidditch team when they were in Hogwarts.

He had been thinking about playing Quidditich professionally as well, but had decided not to, eventually, knowing that if he should get into any Quidditch team, there would probably some sort of fame involved and that was the last thing he wanted right now. He was content with a simple life, one that did not require him appearing on any form of newspaper and thus had decided to undergo Auror training to become an Auror.

Hermione had decided to become a Healer, and had undergone training just like Harry was doing now, and passed the examination, becoming a full-fledged Healer within a few months. Quickly she had risen in the ranks to become a senior Healer, one that specialized in the healing of rare and unknown diseases where she tried to figure out cures for them. She often returned home, almost exhausted as he was after a day of grueling training but he could see how happy she was in this job.

The Auror training facility was located next to St. Mungo’s, in case any trainee got injured and had to be brought to the hospital immediately which meant that both Harry and Hermione went to work together while Ron usually left the apartment earlier than the both of them and came home later than the both of them as he had to travel to the Puddlemore home field which was a distance from their apartment.

Although they could have simply Apparated to work every morning, they somehow preferred to walk, as the hospital and the training grounds were not very far from where they lived and they often walked home together from work and walked to work together, just talking about work and other things that were going on in their life.

Glancing at his watch again, he couldn’t help but wonder why she was taking so long. It wasn’t like Hermione to be late, in fact, most mornings, it had always been him who was late, and she would always give him an exasperated look when he emerged from his bedroom, despite the fact that he was only late by a few minutes.

Just as he was about to go to her room and check on her, she appeared in the living room, some of her chestnut curls falling over her shoulders and the rest pulled up in what would have seemed like a messy bun and wearing the prerequisite Healer’s uniform, with her navy jacket over it, a scarf in the different shade of blue tucked into its collar. Her expression was harried and frustrated, a look that he had often seen when their NEWTS had been approaching.

“Sorry, I’m late.” She apologized, as she walked towards him quickly and pulled her shoes from the cupboard he was standing next to. “I overslept.”

“It’s okay.” He shrugged, allowing her to place a hand on his shoulder to steady herself as she struggled to slip on her heels with one hand. “Merlin knows I do that all the time.”

When she had straightened up and adjusted her scarf once more, he opened the door and they stepped out, one after the other, down the stairs and out into the streets where the icy cold wind cut through them like a knife. They were quiet for awhile, the wind drowning out their thoughts as it pushed against the both of them.

“You okay?” He addressed her almost hesitantly, still seeing the worry etched onto her face, wondering what had caused her to oversleep. Lately, she had always come home from work with a frustrated expression, one of desperate worry and after dinner, she would always shut herself in her room where he could distinctly hear the furious scratching of quills and the sound of pages being turned.

He knew it had probably something at work, but hadn’t wanted to probe; hoping that whatever it was would soon be over. But now he was getting more and more worried about her, the way the shadows if insufficient sleep had materialized overnight and how her face would always appear to pale, drawn and deep in thought.

“It’s nothing.” She exhaled sharply, her breath making a little puff of condensation, the frustration on her face intensifying.

“It’s not nothing.” He retorted, worry clouding his features as he took hold of her arm, pulling her to a sudden stop in the middle of the street. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

Hermione sighed deeply, but kept her eyes trained to the street as she began to talk. “It’s…complicated. There’s been this outbreak at St.Mungo’s. I can’t seem find the antidote for it and people keep dying no matter what potion we give them.” She looked up into his face, painful helplessness evident in her expressive brown eyes.

He was seized with a sudden urge to hold her close in his arms, to brush a light kiss across her forehead to tell her it would all work out fine, but settled instead for gripping her shoulders such that she was forced to look up at him.

“Listen to me,” He said firmly, his emerald gaze not leaving her light brown ones. “You were, no, are the smartest witch I know. If anybody can save these people and find a cure for that outbreak, only you can.” He spoke slowly, emphasizing every word.

She could almost hear the sincerity in his voice, the firm belief he had in her abilities and that warmed her inside instantly, despite the frigid wind that was swooping around them. It somehow meant so much to hear that he believed in her, that he knew that she could find a way out.

“Do you really think I’m smart?”

He released her shoulders, breaking out into a slight smile. “Do I look like I would lie?”

She too, felt her lips curve into a small smile, the first smile that he had seen for the first time in many days, a welcome sight that made his heart soar. “No.”

And with that, they resumed their walking, the snowflakes beginning to lightly fall on the icy pavements, with the promise of a new day.

And so ends the first chapter. What did you guys think? Let me know!

## 3. Knowing Her

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of HP but I do own this plot.

Author’s note: This has to be a first for me, churning out two chapters in a day. I’ll try to update during the week but no promises, so, so sorry. This is for Yuner, who never fails to help me in my fics even when I call her to ask the stupidest questions.

Alright let's move on to the second chapter. Broken the ice with the witch of your dreams? Now we will proceed to the next step which is of no less importance in charming her to make her yours:

2. Know her like you know yourself.

This is very important. Get to know everything about her, what are her likes, what are her secret fears, where she wants to get married next time, everything and anything she says must be of the utmost importance to you and you must remember whatever she tells you.

Most wizards often forget what the witches of their dreams tell them, and witches like to know that other wizards can remember what they have said previously, as this means that what they have said is of some importance to that wizard.

In order to know her as well as you know yourself, you have to spend more time with her. Take note of what she says and always listen to her (more on this in chapter 5).

If the witch of your dreams is a close friend, get to know her even better. There's no limit to how well you know a person, spend more time with her such that you can even understand her moods and read her thoughts.

So what are you waiting for? Get out there and start getting to know her as well as you know yourself!

-12 Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches, Chapter 2, Knowing Her

Harry awoke that morning, knowing full well that she was already awake, probably getting breakfast even though it was her special day. Getting dressed silently, he grabbed the wrapped package from his bedside and padded out into the hallway. The smell of fried eggs and bacon greeted him, as he entered the small kitchen and leaned against the small bartop table, watching her as she flipped an egg, before neatly catching it once more with the pan.

She stood by the stove, the early morning sun filtering through the clear glass windows and making her dark chestnut hair gleam. Her face glowed in the pale morning light, her eyes focusing on the liquid egg white that was slowly turning an opaque white, its golden yolk remaining perfect and whole.

He couldn't help but smile at her, even though her back was turned to him. She didn’t seem to notice his presence, flipping the egg with perfect preciseness, with a flick of her wrist, an easy motion that came with practice.

"Morning." He greeted her.

She whirled around, her eyes widening slightly in momentary shock before it melted into a radiant smile. "You scared me. How long have you been standing there?"

Merlin, he loved to see her smile. "Long enough." He walked around the table, dropping his package on the marble tabletop, extending his arms to her for a hug. "Happy birthday, Mione."

She twisted the knob on the stove, extinguishing the fire immediately before turning around to wrap her own arms around his neck, giving him a small smile of pleasure. "Thanks."

They remained in the hug for some time before Harry finally pulled out of her embrace, taking a self-conscious step backwards, his hand automatically running through his hair as his smile widened. He retreated back behind the bartop, watching her turn her attention back to the stove as she slid the eggs and bacon onto two plates.

"Why do you do this very year?" He asked, his eyes never leaving her figure. "It's your special day. I would be cooking breakfast if I wasn't sure I would burn down the entire damn kitchen."

She laughed, a light sound that was as welcome as the gentle breeze that had just floated in through the open window. "I know. That's why I always do the cooking."

She set the plates down before him and sharply rapped his hand when he attempted to take a bacon rasher from the plate using only his fingers. "Don’t do that. Why do you think forks were invented?" She gave him a half-exasperated, half-teasing look as she passed him a fork.

"For more trouble and inconvenience." He deadpanned, before jabbing at the bacon with the fork. He took a bite before casting a glance at Ron's bedroom door. "Ron's not joining us?" He hoped the anticipation in his voice didn't show.

"No, he's not." Hermione suddenly seemed very busy with her egg. "He received an owl this morning; there's been an impromptu practice for the match next week."

Harry could hear the slight hint of sadness in her breezy, almost matter-of-fact words, and he responded to it by reaching over to take her hand over the table and squeeze it ever so slightly. "I'm sorry." He couldn't help but feel a stab of jealousy that she was affected by Ron's not being here to celebrate her birthday. "I know you wanted him to be here." The words were more obligatory than anything.

She looked up from her plate, forcing a smile onto her face, mainly for his benefit. "It's okay." She played with her egg for a while before her light, teasing tone came back. "Besides, I still have you."

"You still have me." He echoed, smiling slightly at her words, ignoring the platonic meaning behind them. Releasing her hand, he turned his attention back to the plate of eggs before changing the subject. "So did you open your presents yet?"

"No." Hermione shook her head, as she continued. "I decided to wait until you got your lazy butt out of bed." She wrinkled her nose at him playfully and shook her fork in his face as sign of mock-anger.

"Hey," He protested. "I came home at three in the morning last night. I deserved a sleep in." He reached over to bite the last bit of bacon from her still-extended fork, munching on it with a grin, ignoring her look of incredulity.

They bantered on like this for awhile before Hermione started to clear the table, dumping the plates in the sink while Harry picked up a small, hard package that was lying on the table by the sofa in the living room which had Ron's careless scrawl of "For Hermione, with love, Ron" on it and placed it next to his own package that lay on the bartop table.

He waited almost impatiently while she came back from the sink and looked at her expectantly, bouncing involuntarily on his heels in anticipation. "Go on. Open them."

Just like he had known she would, she picked up Ron's package first, undoing its careless wrapping to reveal something gold. He saw her frown as she picked up the present by its chain, watching it slowly revolve in mid-air as she studied it.

The 'it' was a locket, something like the one Lavender had given Ron during their 6th year, but instead of having the words, 'My Sweetheart' carved on the front of the locket, it appeared to have a catch which opened to a picture of Ron and Hermione together. Harry looked at the picture, trying to force his features into one of calmness, forcing himself not to look away from the picture.

He wasn't the only one who was trying to control his feelings. Hermione was now frowning at the locket and just watching her expression he could almost hear her thoughts in his head. Is he mental? He knows Hermione doesn’t even wear earrings out unless she really has to, did he think she would actually ever wear this out?

He watched her silently, the sound of the clock ticking being the only noise in the kitchen, as she continued to survey the piece of jewelry.

Seeming to remember that Harry was watching her, she looked up at him, a strained smile forming at her lips. "Well," She tried her voice slightly hesitant. "It's...very nice." It was the sort of way she would say that Grawp was gentle, disbelief and self-denial clouding her very words.

He shrugged in response, watching her as she went back to studying the locket, eventually dropping it back onto the table, making a slight clatter onto the table, disappointment flickering across her face before she replaced it with a bright smile that did nothing to fool him.

She reached for his present, which was a heavy, bulky item wrapped meticulously in brightly colored paper. She fingered its edges, the hint of a pure smile returning to her face. "It’s a book."

He laughed at her stating the obvious, "Yeah." He shrugged once more before urging,” Go on, open it. Tell me if I made the right decision."

She carefully removed the paper from the item, her smile growing wider as she lifted the book from its paper, her eyes lighting up at she read its title. "Oh Harry! How did you know that I wanted this?"

He shrugged yet another time, the gesture becoming common every time he did it. "I don’t know. You told me, I guess." He ran his hand through his hair once again, almost self-consciously at her pleasure at his gift. "It was on that day we were at Diagon Alley, remember? I think it was three weeks ago, and we were at Flourish and Blotts, looking for it and the shopkeeper said it had gone out of print. So yeah, I went to other places to look and... well yeah, I found it." He finished rather lamely, knowing that he had been rambling on and on.

She bestowed a glowing smile on him. "I can’t believe you went all the way out just to find it." Her voice had dropped to a whisper and from the way her hands were smoothing the cover of the book gently made him realize that it had been worth all the hassle just to find the book, just to see her this happy.

"I can’t believe you even remembered that I said I wanted the Medical Journals of Arctulus Barnaby." She looked up from the book, a sort of incredulous, pure joy filling her face the way Ron's gift had not made her look. "I said it so long ago but yet you still remembered." She shifted her gaze once more to the book, prying it open carefully and scanning its first chapter.

He did not say anything, but simply watched her, happiness blossoming in his chest as he watched her turning the pages of the book as if it were some sort of treasure. He had been in a complete dilemma as to what to get her for her birthday, knowing full well that it had to be a book that she had really wanted and hence his search for the elusive medical journals had ensued.

She tore her attention away from the book and reached out to wrap her arms around him. "Thank you so, so much Harry. You have no idea who much this means to me." She released him and picked up the book, hugging it to her.

"No problem." He smiled too, watching as she began to study the diagrams that had been inked long ago by one of the pioneer Healers in the wizarding world, his heart soaring with gladness at being able to make her happy on her special day.

And that had been worth all his troubles.

Was it good? Let me know, thanks!

## 4. Surprise!

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of HP, but I do own this little plot.

Author’s note: Thanks so much for all your wonderful reviews! If you guys would like to suggest one of the twelve ways, I’m always open to your suggestions. I know its short but remember, less is more! Hahaha. This is for Maxine who has a cameo in the chapter!

Okay, wizards. That lucky witch should now be a very close friend of yours if you have followed the previous two steps correctly. If not, get out from under that rock and jump to it! So this is the third tip that will help you land her:

3. Surprise her.

It may not sound like a lot, but trust me on this. Any lady (or witch in this case) loves to be surprised, whether it’s simply a bunch of flowers at work or you buying for her something small, just because. A lot of wizards seem to have failed in remembering that surprises are always witches enjoy. They always remember surprises better than gifts for some reason, and that’s just what you’re aiming for.

Surprises combine elements of unpredictability and pleasure, so be sure to be very select about what you give her and when you give her such surprises. If you keep sending her small items, it wont be a surprise anymore, will it? You should surprise her on days that are ordinary so it’ll make the gesture even more meaningful. If you sent her flowers on her birthday, it wouldn’t be really considered a surprise, would it?

Now get out there and surprise her today!

-12 Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches, Chapter 3, Surprise!

Hermione frowned down at the piece of parchment on her table. That couldn’t be right. With another frustrated sign, she crumpled the parchment, filled with her neat loopy handwriting, and later scrawls of annoyance, and tossed it to a corner of the room. She leaned back into her chair and sighed, closing her eyes to take a momentary break as she ran a hand through her hair in a gesture of sheer frustration.

It had been three weeks and still there had been no breakthrough on that mysterious outbreak that killed wizards within three days. There had been no way to pinpoint its source and this made her job all the more harder. The corner of the room was littered with several balls of crumpled parchment already and it was all she could do to prevent herself from breaking down in tears of helplessness.

She hated to see the hopeful looks on the patients being dashed when she told them she was no closer to a breakthrough on the cure, the resignation on their faces when their time was up, the way their families cried over the victims. Hermione Granger had never failed before in anything but it seemed as though she would fail in this. She hated to fail, didn’t want to fail. She didn’t want to see so many helpless people die under the agony of this elusive illness.

She took a deep breath and straightened up once more, tearing a piece of parchment and taking up her quill, beginning to write once more. The disease had not only taken its toil on the patients but herself as well. She often worked late into the night, missing dinner with Ron (who would complain about how she was trying to starve the both of them as well as herself, but nonetheless looked worried) and Harry (who would tell her to eat more with a sort of worried look on his face). When she did get home, it was to gulp down a makeshift dinner and get back to her room where she would struggle through massive piles of research books, hoping they would give her inspiration as to how to find the cure for this disease.

The lunch that she had sent her assistant out for was now cold, having stood there, untouched for hours already. Hermione ignored the growl of her stomach, paused to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and resumed her furious scribbling. Her coffee, which she had asked for at 7 in this morning, was stone cold and untouched as well. Simply to put it, she had not eaten since breakfast which had only been a protein bar. This unofficial diet seemed to be working; she thought absently, she realized that her uniform had been getting looser and looser everyday.

Her mind raced over the many things that this sickness could have been linked to and she began to write down once again, the many factors that had attributed to this outbreak. Grabbing a file from the stack that was balancing precariously on the edge of her desk, she flipped through its contents, growing feverishly frustrated as she read over the Healer’s report for what seemed like the millionth time this week.

Just then, there was a soft knock on the door.

“Come in.” She called distractedly, not looking up to see who it was, her eyes still scanning every line of the report, hoping that there would be something in there that she had missed. Finally, she looked up into the kind face of her young assistant, Maxine, who was only a trainee here but would take her examination in a few weeks to become a Healer.

“Miss Granger, Mr. Potter stopped by and he…”

“Tell Harry I’m sorry but I won’t be able to see him this morning,” Hermione cut off her assistant in mid-sentence, giving the girl a slight, polite smile, one that belied her harried expression, indicating that her frustration wasn’t meant for her assistant. “Tell him whatever it is can wait until I get home tonight.”

“No, Miss Granger, he stopped by to pass you this.” Hermione had not realized that her assistant was holding a package until now. “He said it was very, very important that you got this and I was to pass it to you immediately.”

Interest piqued, Hermione shut the file and replaced it on the ever-growing stack, taking the parcel which felt warm and slightly moist to her touch. Pushing aside the piece of parchment she had been writing on, she opened the parcel carefully.

Inside the crackled brown paper, lay two sandwiches and an apple. Upon closer inspection, Hermione realized that the sandwiches had come from her favorite eatery that was just a few blocks away from St. Mungos’. She leaned in towards the sandwiches, noticing a short note scribbled on the side of the package in what had to be Harry’s slanted, hurried writing.

Hermione,

I know you’re probably too busy to have had time to step out of St. Mungos’ for lunch so I brought you this. You’d better eat it. If you don’t, you’re going to die of starvation and what would happen to me and Ron? Surely you don’t want us to die of starvation too?

Eat it. See you at home.

-Harry.

P.S: Lunch helps to stimulate the creative juices. Trust me on this. Ron and I always made up our best “death by Hippogriff” predictions for Trelawney after lunch.

Without realizing that she was still in the presence of her assistant, Hermione laughed aloud, in what had seemed like the first laugh all morning. The stress of her work and frustration had melted momentarily. Harry had probably gone out during his lunch break to buy her this and instantly she felt infinitely less tired or annoyed at what he had done for her. She couldn’t help but become more severely conscious of her aching stomach by the minute.

“He’s so nice to you, Miss Granger.” Hermione looked up, the hints of a smile still playing around her lips at her assistant who was staring at her wistfully. “If I had someone like that, I’d never let him go.”

Hermione smiled then at her assistant, a real, full one, knowing that she was also referring to the bouquet of flowers that Harry had sent her at work the other day, when she had simply commented at home that her office needed brightening. When she had thanked him for it at home and asked why he had sent those to her, he had simply shrugged away her thanks and told her, his eyes sparkling mischievously that he had sent those flowers to her, “just because he wanted to.”

Yes, she was very lucky indeed to have him around. Only Harry would do such wonderful things for her. She frowned slightly at that. It had always been Harry to go out of his way to do all these wonderful things for her, never Ron, who was supposed to be her boyfriend for some reason. She cleared that thought away with a shake of her head. That was just silly. Ron had to practice with the team at Puddlemore United’ home field, how was he supposed to send her food all the way over? But still it had been so sweet of Harry to be so concerned for her even during lunchtime.

“I know.” was all she said to Maxine, the statement’s simplicity hiding all her other thoughts from her assistant. She picked up her cup and its contents, holding it out to her assistant. “I suppose you couldn’t help me to get another cup of coffee? This one has gone cold.”

“Certainly, Miss Granger.” Maxine smiled, taking the cup. “I’ll just dispose of your other lunch… I don’t think you want it now.” And with that her assistant retreated from the room, holding the cup and the unwanted container.

Hermione carefully picked up the first sandwich, still smiling absently at Harry’s sweet gesture. With a peek at its contents, she realized it was egg and tuna, one of her favorite sandwiches from that store and her smile grew even wider at the thought that he had actually remembered what she had ordered the last time they were there together, which had been about three weeks ago.

That egg and tuna sandwich had never tasted better.

I hoped you guys liked this one. It’s my last one for the weekend so enjoy!

## 5. Moments Of Insecurity

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of HP but I do own this little plot.

Author’s note: This is my fave chapter to write because I’ve been planning it out for a really long time. For Wanying dearest who took me to the sick bay when I fell sick. Her favourite guy’s name is Jesse who coincidentally happens to be the Quidditich Captain of the Falcons! Enjoy!

Alright. Surprised her with a bouquet of roses at work? Or simply showed up at her doorstep, unannounced with a pair of tickets to Celestina Warbeck’s latest concert? Good. We’re slowly getting to the first important milestone: telling her how you feel about her. But let’s take it nice and slow. After all, Rome wasn’t built in a day.

Let’s move on to the fourth step, shall we?

4. Dispel all her insecurities.

This is a very important step that all wizards seem to neglect at one point of time or another. Witches, no matter how successful or pretty they are will have their moments of insecurity, disbelief that they are really as good as others make them out to be. And you, my friend, will be the one to dispel those unfounded fears and win her over.

The first thing to do is to watch out for signs. Are her eyes downcast, or even red-rimmed? Is her voice faint and her answers monosyllabic? Observe her body language; remain on the alert at all times. If she exhibits any of these signs, take her aside and ask her gently what’s wrong. Be sure to maintain this gentle tone with her in her state of vulnerability.

If she wants to be left alone, which is quite common for the first reaction, try again. If she still insists on being left alone, respect her wishes but let her know that you are here if she wants to talk. If she tells you that she thinks she’s ugly/ unsuccessful/ mean, and if she is, quite plainly the opposite of what she’s just described, tell her that and mean it.

Any witch can discern from your voice whether you truly mean what you say so be sure to really mean it. If what she’s feeling insecure about is true, comfort her in a nice way, and bring up something that she’s good at to boost her up. Every and any witch will have their moments and you need to catch those moments to be the one she can lean on.

So go out there and chase those insecurities away from her!

-12 Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches, Chapter 4, Moments of Insecurity

“Where is she?” Ron burst out, pacing the length of the marble foyer, his newly purchased loafers making a squeaking noise with every step he took, glancing at his watch with a look of impatience on his face. “It’s already 7.30 and she said she’d be here by 7.15!” He continued his pacing in the greatest state of agitation. “If she doesn’t get here in five minutes time, we’re going in without her. The ball’s already started.”

“Relax, Ron.” Harry assured the redhead, casting an almost worried glance at the entrance of the building where a few reporters and cameramen were still lurking, hopefully for a picture of the trio and other guests. “Hermione said she’d be here. Maybe she got held up at work. You know they’ve just made that breakthrough on finding the cure for that disease today, it would be hard for her to leave after finally getting something to work on after so long.” But even as he said this, his brow furrowed slightly. Hermione was very absorbed in her work at times but it was very rarely did she turn up late for an event, especially one as important as this. He leaned against the pale white wall and shook back the sleeve of his jacket, looking at his watch once again.

The trio had been invited to the ball that the Ministry of Magic was throwing to celebrate the 1 year anniversary of the death of Voldermort. Seeing as how the trio had played the biggest role in leading to the demise of Voldermort they were, to be the guests of honor at this event and were forced to accept this occasion which would require them to wear formal robes, (which met with the groans of Harry and Ron) as well as involve an inane amount of smiling at complete strangers and being forced to listen to others gushing over how brave they had been in the war, how courageous and the like.

It would take nothing short of a miracle for Harry to survive the night, especially since he had been the one to actually duel with Voldemort which meant double the attention, and double the gushing. He prayed that the Ministry would not make this a yearly affair, if not he would migrate to somewhere far away, like Siberia or something.

Just then Ron stopped in his tracks and gaped at the vague direction of the entrance. Harry’s head immediately swiveled his head in that direction too and it was all he could do not to gape in both amazement and astonishment.

Hermione had appeared and was now walking towards the building, her face lowered slightly, away from the harsh glares of the camera bulbs that were flashing furiously with loud pops. She was walking hurriedly, her face showing no hint of a real smile, but rather a small one, a polite one that was for the benefit of the cameras and Harry could see why.

She looked gorgeous, her jade dress highlighting her curves in the most flattering fashion that Harry had ever seen, the second layer above the full skirt being made of some translucent, floaty material that had elegant spirals of green, sparkling glitter spreading from the pleats of the gown that dragged slightly on the floor. From her ears, dangled two simple yet tasteful emerald diamonds that offset the entire effect of the dress.

But that was not what Harry was focusing on.

He stared in shock at her hair, or what had been her hair for lack of a word. Her hair had been cut, just today, he guessed, in a hairstyle that vaguely resembled a bob, the longest strands of her hair being able to touch her collarbone and the rest behind cut in a slanting fashion. Her hair was now very much curlier that before for some reason and it looked slightly…

“Awful!” Ron seemed to be thinking along the same thoughts as Harry as he watched Hermione hastily enter the building, but thankfully Hermione had not heard that particular comment as she hurried towards them, not meeting their eyes.

“Sorry I’m late.” She took both of their elbows and propelled them towards the large ballroom a distance away, her head still lowered slightly. Her voice was quiet and was shaking slightly, nearly on the edge of tears. “Let’s go in now.”

Harry frowned down at her in concern but Ron did not seem to hear that odd timbre in her voice because he stopped in mid-way and asked, “What in the name of Merlin, have you done to your hair?”

This made Hermione look down completely at the floor but she continued to yank the both of them ahead, “I cut it.” Her voice was brittle, and held an almost imperceptible note of warning not to probe. “We’ll talk about that later.” Over her head, Harry shot Ron a glare that made Ron raise his other free hand in defeat and roll his eyes heavenwards.

“Hermione…” Harry began, but she cut him off so abruptly that even he was shocked into silence.

“I don’t want to hear anymore about my hair.” They stopped in front of the closed doors from which the strains of music could be heard as well as the gentle murmur of polite conversation. “Let’s just get this over with.”

She lifted her head and pasted on a smile, one that did nothing to hide the embarrassment and the misery in her eyes. Harry looked down at her, stricken by her apparent shame at her appearance, his heart constricting almost involuntarily at her pain.

“Hermione…” He tried again, more hesitantly this time, but now she had pushed the door open to a blinding white spotlight on all of them.

Immediately, he forced an obligatory smile as he entered the room, with Hermione’s arm threaded through his and Ron’s. He gave small nods, uncomfortable smiles to the sea of faces that had stood from their seats and were now clapping enthusiastically for the three of them. He heard how the murmurs had now swelled, how some witches were whispering to one another, their eyes flirting back from Hermione’s hair and away when they noticed Harry looking at them.

But Hermione didn’t seem to notice it, her smile still ever-fixed on her face but Harry could tell that it was stiffening with every step they took into the room. Finally, finally they reached their table, which was of course at the front of the room together with all the remaining members of the Order. Harry’s smile then melted into a real one, as he looked around at all those familiar faces, the warm smiles of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, the tanned face of Kingsley, the dreamy expression that belonged to Luna the radiant beam on Ginny’s face.

He seated himself at Ginny’s motion to her right and Ron sat in his left, with Hermione beside him. Ginny looked very nice too, Harry had to admit. Her long, straight auburn hair had been charmed into gentle curls that cascaded down her back and she was dressed in a simple black dress with a rather low neckline. Diamond earrings sparkled from her ears and her best features were highlighted in light make-up. He smiled then at her and she smiled back, reaching out to take his hand in hers beneath the tablecloth. His smile, faded slightly at her gesture. It felt wrong to be holding her hand for some reason.

But before he could even extricate his hand from her grasp, the food had arrived and the gentle classical music began to play, lilting and soft, blending in with the gentle clink of champagne flutes and polite conversation at each table. Glad for a reason to remove his hand from hers, he took a sip of his champagne which had been magically filled when he had seated himself and picked up a fork to take a bite of the filet mignon that had appeared on his plate as well.

He looked over at Hermione constantly throughout the course of the dinner, trying to catch her eye and give her a smile but her head was always lowered to her cutlets and she barely participated in the conversation, giving short answers to some of the questions asked by Kingsley and Mr. Weasley about the scenario at St. Mungos’ now.

What Ginny had been saying was simply flowing over his head as he silently willed her to look up at him, he nodded absently in response to some of Ginny’s questions, giving her monosyllabic answers as well and rarely looking at her, intent on getting Hermione to look at him. He knew that everybody at the table was trying to avoid conversing about her obvious change in appearance but still it hung awkwardly in the air.

When the dessert appeared, Hermione seemed to be unable to take anymore and getting up from her chair, she whispered something into Ron’s ear and excused herself from the table without a backward glance. People were looking at her as she rapidly made her way out of the ballroom, knowing but malicious smiles of pleasure on some of the faces of the witches. Harry’s insides seethed at this sight and as tempted as he was to throw down his napkin and go after her, he knew that probably she would need sometime on her own and that he too would go after her later. Carefully, forcing yet another smile, he took a bite of his dessert while listening to Ginny talk about her new job at the Daily Prophet.

*******************

Hermione walked out of the ballroom and towards the ladies, wanting to find someplace quiet to compose herself before trying to make it through the last phase of that dinner. She could feel the burn of tears behind her eyelids and she roughly blinked them back, hoping that there would be no one in the bathroom at this time. All throughout dinner, she had felt Harry’s piercing gaze on her, knowing that if she were to look at him, he would give her a caring smile, one that would probably have caused her to dissolve in tears right there and then.

She pushed open the heavy door of the toilet then, which was as luxuriously decorated as the entire building had been, a vision of marble and gold. Standing at the mirror she stared at the woebegone Hermione in the mirror and she felt tears blur her vision as she slowly raised one of her hands to touch the strands of hair that touched her collarbone. She looked horrible.

Just as she was about to leave, she heard someone talking vaguely from the direction of the cubicles and couldn’t bring herself to walk away when she realized that they were talking about her. So she listened, tears filling her eyes momentarily as she listened to the two unknown voices conversing.

“Merlin, did you see her hair? It looks like she got into a fight with her hairdresser and the hairdresser won!” A voice trilled from the depths of the cubicle.

“Not the hairdresser,” the other corrected, malice tingeing her voice, “I would say the hairdresser decided to go the unconventional and cut her hair with a pair of garden shears this time!” Their laughter echoed around the walls of the toilet, along with the sudden roaring in Hermione’s ears.

“Oh well, what can you expect from her?” The first voice continued, the poison in her voice unmistakable by now. “It’s not as if she can afford such high-grade haircuts with her job as a Healer. I mean, honestly.”

Hermione wanted to shout something back at these women, but found herself unable to make any sound at all. She was unable to pull herself away from the conversation but could only stand there dumbly, listening to the two of them twitter on about her.

‘True.” The other agreed. “After all, its not as if she’s got her looks going for her, obviously the only thing she’s good for is her brains.”

Hermione found the tears spilling down her face by now, hot liquid on her cold cheeks. She felt hurt beyond belief, physical pain coursing through her entire body. She couldn’t believe that such women could say such horrible things about her behind her back.

But before she could even try to react to these words, she heard the lock of the cubicle clicking open and with that she fled in tears from the bathroom.

**********************

Harry gave the entrance of the ballroom yet another worried look. Where was she? Why had she been gone so long? He looked over at Ron, hoping that the redhead had too noticed Hermione’s apparent disappearance by now, but instead saw his best friend talking animatedly to the captain of the English Quidditich team, the Falmouth Falcons, Jesse Wright. He sighed in exasperation. Merlin, Ron could be so dense at times.

“That’s nice.” He told Ginny absently as he stood abruptly in the middle of her sentence, causing her and the rest of the table to look at him in surprise. “But would you excuse me for a second?”

Without waiting for an answer, he strode out of the ballroom, curious glances following him as well but he ignored those, intent on finding Hermione. He stopped outside the ladies, before politely asking one of the witches that had just emerged to check if Hermione was inside. The witch appeared with a regretful smile, saying that no, Hermione was not in there. Harry thanked her and with that decided to look for her. She couldn’t have left the place, not in the middle of such a big event without notice and so he proceeded to look for her.

He exited the building by the back door, realizing that the building was actually built on a hill. As he began his perilous descent down the grassy knoll, he spotted a small figure, huddled up by the edge of a magnificent lake, her jade skirts blending in almost perfectly with the grasses that were swaying, whispering in the night breeze.

He approached her cautiously and seated himself next to her. Her shoulders shook with quiet sobs and his heart constricted once again in despair at her anguish. He was quiet and did not say anything, simply letting her cry as the grasses continued to rustle in the cool night air, the sound having an almost soothing effect on Hermione.

When the sounds of her sobs had died away, he shifted himself such that his arm touched hers and asked quietly what had been the matter. She was able to relate the matter to him after a while, between some hiccups and stifled sobs, a few tears still flowing down her cheeks, washing away the make-up that she had so carefully applied.

When she had finished, Harry was silent, but inside he was furious that such people could actually say such horrible, untrue things about Hermione who was both pretty and clever. He swallowed instinctively, hoping to swallow some of the intense anger in his voice before speaking over the gentle sounds of the grass fluttering in the wind.

“Look, Mione,” He began, his jaw tensing slightly when he looked at her distraught face. “Don’t believe them. You have so much going for you and it’s not just your brains. You’re smart, witty, funny, caring and most of all,” He paused to emphasize his point with complete sincerity, “beautiful.”

She looked up at him then, her face still slightly tear-streaked. “Do you really think so?” Her voice was tiny, unbelieving almost. “Do you actually think my hair looks nice?”

Harry was quiet, studying her upturned face that glowed in the moonlight. And now he could see what her haircut had done for her.

He saw how really big and luminescent her brown eyes were, how there were flecks of amber reflected in those eyes he knew so well. He saw the light dusting of freckles across her nose that he wouldn’t have noticed until her haircut, how vulnerable it made her look, how it made him want to take care of her for the rest of his life and not let her get hurt ever again. He saw the milky, smoothness of her skin and her high cheekbones.

And then he spoke, conviction and the intensity of the emotion in his voice making her flush slightly at the simplicity of his statement.

“You look beautiful.”

And she believed it, that she was beautiful, at least in his eyes.

She leaned her head against his shoulder willingly, shutting her hot and sore eyes to enjoy the gentle night breeze and smiled as his arm wrapped itself around her shoulder, pulling her to him as he stared out at the lake which was glittering in the moonlight.

And there they enjoyed the quiet serenity of the night together.

************************

Standing at the top of the knoll, Ginny blinked away the immediate tears. She could see how much he loved her, how he had tried so hard to catch her eye, how he had listened absently to her, never taking his eyes off her. How he had left so abruptly and how he had spoken to her with such deep caring in his eyes just now, and how naturally he had drawn her closer to him at the end.

She knew that his heart was no longer hers to have.

And with that, she turned her back on the two seated figures as she walked away.

OMG that was the longest I’ve ever written, my fingers are aching! Please review for this, it was my fave chapter to write!

## 6. Listening with Your Heart

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of HP but I do own this little plot.

Author’s note: This is a chapter which is leading up to the thing we’ve all been waiting for…hint hint! It’s slightly sad but I hope I managed to convey their feelings for one another well enough. This is for Yun Ting. Happy Birthday dear! ,

Well done! We are well on our way to towards our goal and I congratulate you for having successfully established a close relationship with that lucky witch! We shall now proceed on in this quest by moving on to the fifth step in winning her heart:

5. Listen to her when she talks.

Many will scoff at this. It sounds so ludicrously simple that most may be thinking at this juncture, “Of course I listen to her.” But do you really listen to what she is saying? Most wizards make the mistake of thinking that just because they are sitting there and watching her lips move; they are listening to the lady. But that is not so.

Most witches (if not all) like to talk. They can talk about their problems, their worries, their insecurities as we have seen in the last chapter. However the complaint I hear from so many witches is that their boyfriends (and even some husbands) don’t understand them fully. And why is that so? It’s because these wizards have made the mistake of not listening to their girlfriends, causing them to not know everything their girlfriend wants and needs from them.

The important trick in this game is to always listen. Don’t just sit there and stare at her lips moving, thinking about how really hot she is and giving non-committal answers. You have to show her that you respect what she is saying, what she is trying to tell you. Listen attentively. Don’t break eye contact by looking down at the floor or your hands or elsewhere when she is talking, because it sends her the message that you’re bored and you’re just sitting her to listen to her out of the sheer politeness of it all.

As I emphasized before, honesty and mutual respect is very important. Look into her eyes, listen attentively. This cannot be emphasized enough. Don’t interrupt her when she’s saying something, talk only when she has finished speaking. This in turn will send her the signal that you care about what she is saying, that it means a lot to you and that you are listening genuinely to what she is saying because you care and you’re not sitting there out of mere politeness.

So get out there and don’t forget to listen, listen and listen!

-12 Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches, Chapter 5, Listen With Your Heart

Hermione frowned down at the parchment, its words seeming to glow in the harsh glare of the light. She studied its contents once more, her eyes roving over the list of ingredients, instructions and other seemingly endless effects of the potion. With a sigh, she propped her chin using her right hand, staring blankly at the parchment, her thoughts in actual fact far, far away from the potion that the Healers had concocted to counteract the elusive illness that they had been actively trying to cure for so long.

She was in fact, disturbed about something else. Something that did not have to do with work, but rather something that had to do with Ron. She didn’t know why it was bothering her so much now, but yet there it remained in her mind, refusing to be simply dismissed like that without her thinking about it in great depth.

After the ball, when Harry had helped her back up to the ballroom, she had been slightly perturbed to see that Ron had not noticed her long-drawn absence nor had he noticed her slightly puffy eyes as he had simply dragged her off to meet Jesse Wright, the Quidditch Captain of the Falcons. At first, she’d just dismissed it, not wanting to make a mountain out of a molehill.

But yet, over the day it seemed to nag at her. As her boyfriend, shouldn’t Ron have been the one to notice her obvious misery of her awful haircut (which she had managed to salvage the other day upon finding a hair growing potion)? Shouldn’t he have been the one to comfort her, to tell her that she was beautiful instead of Harry?

Not that she minded Harry being the one to tell her that she looked beautiful and that those women had no idea what they’d been talking about her in the bathroom. She had felt a sudden rush of warmth, of something when he told her that, she could see it from the earnest conviction in his emerald eyes, the intensity in his voice when he’d told her that she was beautiful. She’d felt gratified when she saw how truly angry he was at those women for having gossiped such poisonous things about her, form the way he had set his jaw when listening to her tearfully recount the entire incident.

He made her believe that she was and could be everything that she could be.

But yet, shouldn’t Ron have been the one to do all that, if Ron was her boyfriend?

It would have been so much better if things had just stopped at that. But lately it seemed as though something was wrong, something was missing after that. It felt wrong when Ron hugged her, when he kissed her even, and she seemed to be trying ways and means to avoid him, to avoid his acts of love towards her. She could not help but recoil slightly even when he took her hand out in the street sometimes but could not bring herself to pull away, only being able to force a weak smile onto her face.

And when Ron told her he loved her, she found herself wondering, even as she said the same thing back to him, Do you really mean it? Do I really mean it?

It had gotten worse of late. She no longer felt in love with him anymore and she knew it. She found herself constantly comparing what Harry did with Ron for some reason and she always felt so guilty for doing that to Ron. Like when Harry had sent her a bouquet of lilies the other day to congratulate her on having successfully made a breakthrough in finding the cure for that disease, it had been all she could have done, not to admire it so as not to have to compare how sweet Harry was to her as compared to Ron.

She’d realized a lot of differences between the both of them however, how Harry would always, always ask how her day was and consciously remembered what had been going on in her workplace, and she knew he was truly interested in what she had done. But Ron, she realized with yet another pang, had only, after Harry asked what was going on in her life, asked what she was doing in St. Mungos’ and the feeling she had gotten was that it was merely an obligatory question, because he barely waited for an answer before going on into what he had done at practice today, how many goals he had saved and how he was no longer just a reserve on the team but the official Keeper of the team.

It bothered her how Harry was always taking the time to talk to her, to help her figure out what was the ingredient that the cure needed despite his adequacy at the subject but how Ron never seemed to care, only offering the requisite, “If you need any help, I’m there.” But there was such a big difference between offering to help and helping, she’d realized.

With a sigh, she stood up, the legs of her chair scraping against the floor loudly with her abrupt motion, but she didn’t care. Carefully weighing the parchment down with another book, she left the room and headed for Harry’s room. She needed to talk to him, she had to try and figure out what had been going on lately. He would understand, she knew, he would care, seeing as how Ron was his friend as well. Maybe he could help her.

She spotted a silver of light beneath his door and couldn’t prevent the soft sigh of relief that she released, belying how much she really, really needed to talk to him. With that she tapped at his door, standing in the dark hallway quietly, her hands quietly twisting themselves as she waited. She could hear his footsteps coming and the door opened.

“Mione?” Harry opened his door wide, his brow furrowing in concern and curiousity, apparently not noticing that he was wearing only his pajama pants, his chest being exposed and revealing a very well-toned six pack. Hermione flushed at that thought immediately at that thought, almost guiltily and looked down. ‘What’s wrong?”

She looked up then, trying to avert her eyes from his chest. “I… I just needed to talk to you…” She cleared her throat quietly, keeping her eyes locked with his. “Can I come in?” Merlin, she hoped he couldn’t see her blushing.

“Yeah… sure, come in.” Harry stepped aside to let her enter his room, running a hand through his hair as he shut the door behind her.

She was pleasantly surprised to see that it was relatively neat, his Auror textbooks being piled up in a stack at the corner of the room, notes and some other pieces of parchments strewn across the table in what she assumed he must have been studying. She knew his Auror examination was coming up and once he passed, he would be a full-fledged Auror. Carefully, she walked over to his bed and seated herself on the edge, her toes sinking into the carpet on the floor as she stared at her hands in her lap.

He walked over, grabbing a white shirt thrown over the back of his chair and yanking it over his head as he leaned against the table to watch her for a few minutes, his silence and the way his eyes traced her face, her body made her feel almost nervous. She flushed again at his gaze, realizing she must have looked a sight, her hair rather mussed and she yanked the flaps of her robe together so as to hide the silky camisole and shorts she had been wearing underneath them.

He cleared his throat uncomfortably and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “So, is something wrong?”

Hermione sighed, some of the tension leaving her body as she continued staring at her hands in her lap. “I… I don’t really know.” She admitted softly, all the thoughts jumbling themselves in her mind. “I… I guess… it’s about Ron.”

Was it just her or did Harry seem to tense a little at Ron’s name? Was it just her imagination that he seemed to straighten slightly and the muscle in his jaw clench momentarily? But she blinked and the tension in his body language seemed to have dissipated.

“Yeah, Ron.” Harry shoved his hands into the pockets of his pajama pants, now dropping his gaze to the floor as well. “So, is something wrong between him and you?” His voice was slightly curt, and she looked up at him, her own brow furrowed in confusion at his almost abrupt tone when talking about his best friend.

“Well, yeah.” Harry looked up at these words as well, looking at her almost expectantly but a hint of confusion in them. “I… I don’t really know how to put it,” She paused, trying to find the right way to phrase her thoughts without revealing that she had been comparing Ron to him with everything he did. “I don’t think he really cares about me.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked, concerned. Was she just thinking too much or did he sound slightly excited at that mention? She shook her head, hoping to clear her head of all these crazy thoughts. Merlin, she was really reading too much into all this.

Harry interpreted her gesture as an answer as he replied, in a slightly less excitable tone, “I guess he should care for you…” He looked down once more, directing his words to the floor. “I mean, he, you know, hugs you and holds your hand all the time, doesn’t he?” The words sounded brief and uncomfortable coming from him.

Hermione sighed, and shut her eyes. “Harry, you should know that that doesn’t necessarily mean that he really cares for me, do you?” She inhaled sharply before continuing. “I don’t need hugs or his kisses,” She failed to see Harry look up at this mention of intimacy. “I just need him to tell me he loves me and that when he says it, he means it.”

“Do you?”

“Well, no.” Hermione found herself floundering upon opening her eyes to meet his intense gaze, “I mean, yes. I… don’t know.” She admitted softly, unsteadily. “I…love him…I guess. But… but its no longer enough anymore.”

“What do you mean it’s no longer enough anymore?” She could now clearly hear the note of restrained anticipation in his voice but did not bring it up.

“I… I don’t know!” She burst out. “He tells me he loves me, but I can’t bring myself to say the same anymore! If I do say it back to him, it just feels so… so wrong!” She paused, hoping to swallow some of the emotion in her voice. “I get the feeling that he likes the idea of me…but that he doesn’t care about me.”

There was a long-drawn silence at her little outburst before Harry pushed himself off the table and knelt by her, taking her hand in his.

“Listen,” he began. “I’m not sure if Ron knows… you know, all this.” He sighed and squeezed her hand slightly. “Maybe he just doesn’t know how to put it, how to make it right. You know he’s never been good at handling girls and I don’t think he meant to make you feel that way.” He paused, seeming to want to say something more. “I think he still loves you a lot.” The last sentence came out of his mouth almost unwillingly.

Hermione looked down into his eyes, trying to decipher that odd expression in their depths, the one that looked neither comforting nor encouraging, but rather, almost sad. “Do you really think so?” She settled for a question instead and found herself anticipating his answer for some reason.

He released her hand at that, and stood effusively, not meeting her gaze. “Yeah.”

Hermione found herself strangely disappointed at his answer, but took his standing and his answer as an almost silent dismissal and found some tears pricking at her eyes, for reasons unknown. She felt let-down, miserable at the way the entire thing had turned out.

She stood too, looking down at the carpet. “Well,” her voice broke slightly and she cleared her throat, steadying it. “Thanks for listening. I… I won’t disturb you any further.” She too slipped her hands into the pockets of her robe, not wanting to look at him any longer and with that, she left, without a backward glance at his stricken face.

Something seemed to have changed between the both of them as well, she thought, a solitary tear sliding down her cheek as she went back to her room.

Only she didn’t know what.

Okay this is slightly sad but I hope you guys still liked it! Please review!

## 7. Right Here For Her

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of HP but I do own this little plot.

Author’s note: This chapter and the previous one’s were both really sad but I promise the next chapter will be much much better and we can get back to the fluffiness soon! Thanks for all your reviews!

Had enough of listening? Well, now, my friend is the time for action! Now, don’t get too excited yet, you’re not going to confess your feelings for her just yet, you’ve still got one more thing left to establish with her. And so here it is:

6. Be there for her when she needs you.

It sounds amazingly simple doesn’t it? But in doing this, you’re actually showing her something that she’ll always remember that no matter what it is, you won’t judge her that you’ll always listen and be there when she needs you. Many witches looks for this sense of stability in wizards and therefore this step is vital as you’ll be able to show her that no matter what, com what may, you will be there for her.

So how do you go about establishing this with her? Simple, really. Like I said before in Chapter 4, if she needs to talk, listen. If she wants someone to cry to, let her lean on you. If she wants someone to rant to, let her rant to you. Essentially, the first few chapters and the last few will be about you being there when she really needs you. Not only will she remember how you were always there for her, she will also be able to see that you cared for her and that you wanted to be there when she needed you the most.

And that my friend, is very, very important.

-12 Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches, Chapter 6, Right Here for Her

Harry inserted the key into the lock, unable to control the fat, silly grin that seemed to be permanently attached on his face ever since he had left the Aurors’ headquarters. Before entering, he glanced once more at the slightly crumpled piece of parchment on which in dark ink, which held his name and well as the announcement that he had passed the Auror examination and was now a full-fledged Auror. His heart swelled with pride just looking at it once again, as well as that thrill of joy that had coursed throughout his body when he had first received it with an almost rare smile from Hestia Jones, the new Head Auror, who had even managed a small compliment of, “Well done, Potter.”

He couldn’t wait to share the news with Ron and Hermione, knowing that they would be more than pleased with this news. Maybe they could even sit down for some celebratory dinner tonight, seeing as how they hadn’t been able to do so for some time. Ron had been really busy with practices that spanned from the early morning to the late night, and Hermione had been busy too with her work at St. Mungos’.

But it wasn’t just their work that was keeping the three of them apart, Harry thought soberly, still standing in the drafty hallway, the grin on his face fading slightly at the thought. It had been Ron and Hermione as well.

He knew that they were having problems, known it even before Hermione had come to him one night to talk, but had not talked to Ron about it, for the reasons of not wanting to probe and not wanting to know. He remembered how Hermione had come to him, wanting to talk and remembered with a pang how stand-offish he had been, upon realizing that she was here to talk about Ron. He remembered seeing the brief flicker of disappointment in her eyes when he had asserted that Ron still loved her, how he had felt so torn apart, glad that she was unsure as to whether she loved Ron, guilty that he was rejoicing over such things seeing as Ron was his best friend, but yet horrible after she’d left abruptly, hearing the silent dismissal in his voice.

Things had been weird between the three of them after that night.

Ron and Hermione still talked, of course, but he felt that sometimes Ron was talking more at Hermione, rather than with her, and he could see from the way Hermione replied, cold and clipped, that she resented that as well. He knew Ron was making all the wrong moves that his best friend had seemed to forget all that the book had taught him about winning over girls but yet was unable to tell Ron that.

Hermione had begun to walk to work on her own lately as well, claiming that she had a lot to do, but Harry knew that from the way she was tiptoeing around him that it was not just work, but rather she was avoiding him. He tried to talk to her, but somehow he was always unable to catch her before work or even at home where she would simply pass him in the hallway and tell him dinner was on the stove and that she was going to bed early. He hated how things had progressed to such a stage and had, flipped through the book so many times in hopes that they would help him figure a way out of this mess but there didn’t seem to be one.

But now, he thought, as he turned the doorknob, he hoped that his becoming a full-fledged Auror, that this piece of news would bring the three of them out of this stalemate they were in, that all the tension between the three of them would dissipate.

“You see? You see what I mean? It’s always like that, Ronald!”

Hermione.

Harry stopped, stock-still in the doorway as her shriek cut through the air like an arrow. She sounded angry, no make that furious and he quietly shut the door, hoping that he could escape this little scene without alerting them about his presence. He could see Ron’s back from where he was standing, tall and unbending and he glimpsed Hermione’s livid face, her delicate features clouded over with unusual anger as her arms tensed by her sides. Unable to move without showing them he was home, he stayed where he was.

“What do you mean?” Ron demanded, and Harry could tell from the icy edge in his best friend’s voice that he too was angry.

“You’ve never made me feel like you cared about me!” Hermione inhaled sharply, seeming to allow that breath to calm her emotions slightly but when she spoke again, her voice was still laced with restrained anger. “Tell me honestly, do you like the idea of me as your girlfriend or do you like me?”

“Of course I like you!” Ron’s voice held a thread of disbelief as if Hermione was asking him a stupid question. “Why wouldn’t I? You’re my girlfriend, aren’t you?”

“You still don’t get it, do you?” Hermione looked away from Ron, pushing back her hair in evident frustration, her eyes holding all the anger she seemed to feel. “I may be your girlfriend but do you still love me? Because,” She paused again, emotion choking her next words, “You’ve never made me feel like you actually cared, you’ve never tried. You seemed to stop trying after the war. It’s almost as if you were striving so hard just to get me and then when you did,” Harry could hear the tears in her voice now, “You just…didn’t care.”

Ron was silent for a moment and Harry could hear her sniff, once before she continued.

“You seemed to take for granted that I would always be there, but the fact is, Ronald that you have to keep trying.” Hermione choked out, “I won’t always be here with you, you have to make me feel like you care about me. Do I really have to spell all that out for you?” She let out an involuntary sob as she lowered her head to look at the carpet. “I mean, Harry tries at the least and that’s what separates him from you.”

There was silence in the living room as Harry stood there quietly, trying to make sense of her last words. Hermione knew he cared about her. She did. All he had done so far had worked. He felt yet another shudder of joy race through his veins, but continued to listen, anticipating Ron’s words.

“So that’s what you’re going to do,” Ron’s voice held no note of an apology, but rather it was mirthless and cold, shocking both Harry and Hermione. “Drag Harry into this like you always do.”

Hermione jerked her head up at his answer, her eyes narrowing slightly, tears still shimmering on her face. The look on her face was both incredulous and furious. Even Harry could tell that Ron was completely doing the wrong thing by picking yet another quarrel with Hermione on such a thing. He knew that he was about to get entangled in this argument and that it would become very messy with regrettable consequences.

Not wanting to hear more, he began to slowly pad his way into the living room, averting his eyes from the both of them as he focused his gaze on his bedroom door, wanting simply to get into the safety of his bedroom. But before he could walk past Hermione and into safe grounds, her next words stopped him.

“No!” Hermione shouted, and Harry realized that she was directing her words at him. “You stay there! I want you to hear this too.”

It held an imperceptible plea and Harry wanted to run into his room and not have to be dragged into yet another mess between the both of them, but yet, the fierce look on Hermione’s face and the odd quiver that had flitted across her features held him there. He chanced a look at Ron, who was simply standing there rigidly, his face impassive and looking at Hermione only, avoiding Harry’s gaze. Harry felt his whole body tense up as well, the awkwardness of standing in between the two enveloping his entire being.

“You’re completely missing the point, Ronald!” Hermione shouted, “So what if I do compare Harry to you. He tried and that’s what you don’t do! You’ve never been there when I needed you but Harry has and I know he always will!”

Harry felt yet another prick of joy at her words but Ron’s next words made that brief feeling fade into something of slight anger and guilt.

“Yeah,” Ron shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, not meeting either of their gazes now. “I know he’s perfect in every bloody way. So why don’t you just go and date him if he’s so wonderful to you?” He met Hermione’s seething brown eyes with a small, scornful look and Harry winced, knowing that this would only set Hermione off again, his worst hopes realizing as her fingers curled into fists by her sides as she glared at Ron.

But what she was completely unexpected.

“Maybe I will!”

Ron snapped his head up to look at her, his blue eyes becoming that of shards of ice, the look on his face hardening. Harry took turned sharply to look at her, knowing that confusion must have been written all over his face and hoping that the involuntary surge of joy at her words was not being portrayed in his eyes as well. Hermione had one hand slapped over her mouth as if trying to hide the words she had just spoken but it hung, like a lead weight between the three of them in the still air, her dark eyes widened in both shock at her words and realization.

It seemed like an eternity before she spoke again, quietly but her voice was clogged with unspoken sobs and tears.

“Harry…he makes me feel like I’m someone special, like… I’m treasured.” She spoke hesitantly but her emotions were very evident in her voice. “He does wonderful things for me, things… that make me smile, and he always knows what’s on my mind.” The words came fluently out of her mouth but she no longer seemed to be speaking to Ron but rather to herself. With every word that she spoke, the look on Ron’s face hardened and Harry could not stop the flush of guilt that rose from deep inside him.

“I’m sick of this Ron,” Hermione’s voice was now tired, soft. “I’m tired of trying not to care that you don’t care about me. You know it too, that we’re both so completely different and that we can never work this out.” She sniffed once more, before adding. “You know it, so don’t deny it.”

Ron’s look of restrained anger spoke volumes about how he was taking this, but the real cold fury in his voice as he spoke was much worse. “Well then, I guess I’ll just leave you to Harry then.” He turned as if to walk away, before tossing cruelly over his shoulder, “I guess he’s all you need right now.”

And with that Ron left, his back still rigid and shaking slightly with anger, without a backward look at either Hermione or Harry.

Harry felt as though someone had just punched him in the gut, the guilt stabbing at him, how he had hurt his best friend even though he had not said anything throughout the entire exchange. He looked at Hermione, who looked both angry and shocked at Ron’s leaving but when her gaze shifted to him and their eyes locked for a brief second, he could not read the emotions held in her eyes, but felt yet another twinge of sadness at the film of tears swimming in her eyes.

But before he could say anything at all, she had torn her gaze from his and ran, leaving him to wonder if she had just run out of his reach.

Oooooh. Cliffy. Hahaha. Let me know what you guys thought of it.

## 8. Telling Her

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of HP but I do own this little plot.

Author’s note: I’ve realized that I’ve been misspelling certain words in my fics and I’m so so sorry about that! I realized that its spelt Puddlemore and not Puddlemere, so sorry about that! Anyway thanks so much for all your reviews, they’ve really encouraged me to go on! Hope you liked this chapter!

Now we come to the really important part of this business of winning her heart: confessing your feelings for her. I’m quite sure that when you read this, you’re probably starting to get nervous, aren’t you? Well, don’t be! If what you are fearing is rejection let me tell you that it is perfectly normal to be rejected.

If you confess your feelings for this witch and she rejects you without second thought, this part will be completely up to you. Does she look like she’s absolutely sure that she doesn’t want to have you as a boyfriend? If she does, (and usually this isn’t the case) just give up on her mate. She’d be blind to have rejected such a wonderful wizard like you if you did follow the last few steps correctly of course.

If you confess your feelings for her and she rejects you hesitantly, there’s probably something that’s bothering her as to why she can’t accept you. It could be an ex-boyfriend, or family problems. So don’t give up just like that. Keep at it, and tell her that no matter what you’ll be there waiting for her to accept you. In no time at all she’ll be swayed by your sincerity and chuck the other boyfriend!

If you confess your feelings for her and she does match your confession, then you my friend have succeeded halfway in charming her to make her yours.

Now, how do we go about in confessing our feelings to that lucky witch? This brings us to our seventh tip which is rather important nonetheless. The perfect, most romantic confession is vital in hoping to capture her heart. So:

7. Take her to places she likes.

Is there a romantic restaurant that she likes nearby with the most wonderful Italian cuisine? Or is there a small park which she often walks to? Whatever it is, take her there and tell her how you feel. Do it in a manner that seems neither unobtrusive nor abrupt, but tell her sincerely how you feel about her and how you would like it if she could become your girlfriend. As I’m emphasized, time and again, mean what you say because this time she can tell.

Good luck in making that confession.

-12 Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches, Chapter 7, Telling Her

Harry sighed as he sat in his new office, staring at the piles of paperwork that were already standing on the edge of his desk. He had just been accepted as a full-time Auror barely a week ago and had been on the requisite one-week break that all Aurors were given after their grueling training. Now he knew why all the Aurors were usually so swamped with work, he thought as he picked up a file and looked at its contents briefly.

But that wasn’t exactly the real reason why he was feeling so gloomy.

Ever since the fight, Ron’s anger hadn’t waned and the redhead hadn’t even been coming back to their apartment. Harry guessed that he might have been staying with George who lived quite close to the Puddlemore United home field. All the owls that he had sent to Ron, asking him to come back and give it another go with Hermione had taken hours of painful choosing of words but yet had com back to him unopened, except for one which had the briefest of messages on it, written in Ron’s cramped handwriting. Leave me alone.

And Hermione?

She had become more adept at avoiding him, he realized, getting up so early without even telling him, so much so that he’d even tried once just to sit outside her door an hour before she walked to work and wait for her to appear, only to open her bedroom door after an hour of waiting and realize she’d left the house already, probably by Apparation. Merlin, he was really beginning to hate that method of transportation.

Sometimes he would even wait outside her office, hoping to catch her after work, only to see her assistant Maxine look into the office and shake her head with an apologetic smile that indicated that Hermione had gone home, by Apparation again. He would then swear and apparate back to their apartment, only to find a note on the table that said that he would have to find his own dinner, seeing as how she’d had a headache.

He’d become almost like a stalker, just trying to talk to her about what she’d said the other night during the fight. He wanted to tell her, tell her that he wanted to be there for her all the time that he loved her but yet, she kept avoiding him. It was beginning to get frustrating, trying so hard but yet being unable to tell her.

“So early in, Potter?” He looked up to see his new boss, Hestia Jones standing in the doorway with a wry smile on her face.

“Erm… no.” Harry stood, an awkward smile crossing his face as he watched her step into the room, unsure as to how to greet her, his new boss. “I just decided to step in and see how much work was waiting for me.” He gestured to the piles. “I guess I’ll be stuck in my office for the next century.”

Hestia Jones gave a ghost of a smile as she picked up one of the files on his desk and flipped through it absently, “So I won’t deny, it’s a hard job.” She put the file back onto the stack that was balancing precariously on the edge of his desk, “Most Aurors find it the hardest to actually balance both their family and work because they work such long hours.” She turned to him then, without a trace of emotion in her amber eyes and asked, “Just off the record Potter, do you happen to have anyone special? A girlfriend perhaps?”

Harry was taken aback at her sudden question, not understanding why she was asking such a question. His mind immediately turned once again to thoughts of Hermione and he could not restrain the frustration that he knew had flitted across his face in that split second but luckily for him, Hestia Jones didn’t seem to notice anything.

“Well, yeah.”

The answer popped out of his mouth faster than he could have imagined. He wasn’t even sure why he had said so, seeing as how Hermione would probably be avoiding him until the day he died, but all of a sudden he knew how much he wanted to see her and tell her that he wanted her to be his girlfriend. He could feel it, a mixture of frustration and keen anticipation coursing through his veins and it was all he could have done to remain where he was, listening to his boss.

“Well then, she should know that your life would probably be consumed by work, shouldn’t she?” Hestia Jones turned, probably leaving the office but she paused mid-way to give him one last look. “She’ll be able to understand, would she?”

For what had seemed like the first smile in so many days, he felt a small one curve at the corner of his lips. “Trust me. My girlfriend’s life is consumed by her own work. She’ll definitely understand what it’s all about.”

Hestia Jones nodded, before giving him one last brief look and left the office. “Good day, Potter. Don’t forget you start work next week.”

And after a few more minutes of anxious waiting for her to have disappeared down the hallway, Harry sprinted out of his office and out of the Headquarters, heading straight for St. Mungos’. He had to talk to her and he was going to make sure that she did listen to him this time. She was not going to get away any longer.

When he did reach St. Mungos’ however, something like adrenaline pumping through his veins and breathing heavily, her assistant could only offer him another apologetic smile, saying that Mss Granger was in a meeting with the other Head Healer, Joanna Hyatt to discuss the possible options to put into the potion that was to be used for the cure for that elusive illness. Harry groaned, slumping slightly against her assistant’s desk, but had ascertained that he would wait until the end of her meeting, emphasizing that it was extremely important he see her now.

Just then, a tall, willowy figure walked up to the assistant’s table. She had long, dark straight hair which fanned out when she walked, and her eyes were of the clearest almond, set against the paleness of her complexion. Harry watched her, out of the interest that had nothing to do with her looks but simply because he had nothing else to do until Hermione had to come out of her meeting.

“Morning Maxine,” The woman spoke softly but clearly. “I need to speak to Hermione about the other options to put into the potion we’re using for the cure. Is she available right now?”

Those words seemed to be very familiar, Harry thought as he straightened to turn suspicious eyes on Maxine, whose eyes were widening too, almost in fear. Just then the woman seemed to notice his presence and she turned, such that she was now facing him.

“You must be Harry Potter.” The woman smiled, her eyes gazing down at him as she reached out her hand to shake his. “I’m Joanna Hyatt, Head Healer of St. Mungos’, delighted to make your acquaintance.” Harry looked at the badge that was pinned on her uniform and read the words embossed in the shiny brass. Joanna Hyatt. The woman Hermione was supposed to be in a meeting with.

He shook her hand, offering her a small smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Then he turned to Maxine, who by now, was cowering in the suspicion of his gaze which confirmed what he had been thinking. Hermione had obviously instructed her assistant to lie that she was in a meeting such that she wouldn’t have to see him. But what she hadn’t counted on, was the person she was supposedly in a meeting with to appear before him.

“So,” He emphasized every word which seemed to be dripping acid. “She’s in a meeting is she?” He paused, “Well, I don’t think she’ll mind if I barge in this once. So, if you’ll excuse me…”

With that, Harry strode past Hermione’s assistant who was now wringing her hands after calling out after him almost futilely and pushed open the doors to her office, ignoring anything else, as something like anger that she had resorted to such means just to avoid him thumping in his heart.

“Maxine, I thought I told you that I was…” Hermione looked up, a look of annoyance on her face which quickly faded in shock and something like fear. “Harry!”

He did not reply, but simply walked over to her desk, grabbed her by the wrist, yanked her out of her chair and dragged her out of her office behind him, ignoring her protests and her struggles to pull her wrist out of his grasp.

“Cancel all of Miss Granger’s meetings for today,” he tossed over his shoulder at her assistant, disregarding the Head Healer who was watching this entire scene with a sort of bewildered and bemused look on her face as he continued to pull Hermione down the hallway behind him. “She’ll have them tomorrow instead.”

He did not stop to listen to her protests nor did the curious looks of the patients and the other Healers interest him. As soon as they had reached the entrance of St Mungos’ and exited the hospital, he Apparated with her to somewhere he had in mind where he would be able to talk to her without being interrupted for a change.

The place was a small gorge just on the outskirts of London, a place where the three of them had come across while on a hiking trip sometime last year. It was a beautiful place to be especially at a time like this as all that could be seen were tall grasses fluttering in the summer breeze as well as meadows of flowers that flourished, their colors forming a gay picture across the sea of green, everything bathed in the dappled afternoon sunshine.

After that hiking trip, the three of them often came back, sometimes together, sometimes alone, liking to just enjoy the scenery while thinking about their own problems. But out of the three of them, Harry had known that Hermione had come here the most to think, knowing that it calmed her, and hoping that it would work its same magic on her again.

He released her wrist only then as she massaged it gently, wincing slightly and he felt a rush of shame at having hurt her even if he had just been in a haste to talk to her. But she looked up, her dark eyes already shooting sparks at him. “What did you drag me out here for?” Her voice was cold and hard, and he flinched slightly at her words. But somewhere deep inside him, he could feel anger too, at her trying to avoid him for so long.

“Sit down.”

“I won’t until you tell me what is going on.” He had almost forgotten how stubborn she could be.

“I said, sit down.” The two of them locked their eyes in a silent facedown, until he saw the anger in her eyes melt away, and she sat heavily, avoiding his eyes. He then sat too, at a respectable distance from her, knowing that she would, if he sat too close to her, move away. They looked out at the gorge for a while in all in spring finery, not saying anything.

“Listen,” Harry began, the anger in his voice vanishing as he spoke. “About what happened with Ron…”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Hermione interrupted him almost abruptly. “Its over,” Her eyes met his for the first time in so long. “We’re over.”

“Yeah well, I want to talk about it1” Harry turned to her, his emerald eyes flashing angrily. “I’ve been trying to talk to you for so long, but you’ve kept avoiding me! I wanted to ask you if you really meant what you said that night but I can’t do that if you keep avoiding me, Hermione!”

She was silent at his words, lowering her head slightly and Harry realized how cold his words must have sounded and another rush of shame swept over him, diminishing his anger at her. “I just want to know if you meant what you said that day.” It was more of a plea than a statement and he waited for her to speak.

She laughed then, shakily, a breathy sound choke with imminent tears that made him feel even worse. “You want to know? Alright then, let me tell you. Yes, I meant everything I said that day. Only you made me feel that way, only you made me feel like I was special, like I was something to be cherished.” She paused and Harry didn’t speak, still listening intently. When she spoke again, her voice had gentled considerably. “You made me feel loved. And… and I liked that.”

Harry’s breath caught in his throat.

“But then again, who am I kidding?” Her voice had gone back to its breathy state and he knew by the tears shimmering on her face that she was trying to keep that breezy tone. “You’re Harry. You’ve always been this kind and considerate. It was all just me.” Her sobs caught in her throat. “Me who was so stupid to believe that you actually meant for me to feel this way.”

“What if I did?”

His question caught her off-balance, he could tell as her head jerked up at his words, her eyes still filmed in tears. Slowly, he reached over to wipe away her tears gently, drawing closer to her as he spoke.

“I wanted you to see that I could make you feel that way.” He pulled back his hand from her face, but kept his eyes interlocked with hers. “I wanted you to see that Ron couldn’t do that, that I could.” He paused, studying her eyes which held a brief spark of hope. “I wanted you to see that I loved you.”

Hermione’s eyes widened at the words as realization shone in her eyes, behind the tears. But slowly that realization faded into happiness, something that Harry hadn’t seen in a long time, something that made him smile too, knowing that he had be the only one to make her smile, to make her happy like this.

Because she loved him too.

With that insatiable happiness filling his entire being, he shifted himself such that he was sitting much closer to her, and gently, he tipped her face up to lower his lips to hers in the most tender and gentle kiss he could have given anyone, sealing his promise to her that he would be there for her forever and her for him.

Awwww. There you guys go! After those two chapters, I guess this one should be more welcome so I hope you guys liked it! Review please!

## 9. Protecting Her

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of HP but I do own this little plot.

Author’s note: I loved reading all of your reviews! Thanks so much everybody!

So did you manage to win her over with your most heartfelt confession? If you didn’t, just go back to the beginning of the book and try again! Keep trying until she just can’t say no! But sadly if she does say no, (which doesn’t usually happen in our case) then she’s either too blind to not have appreciated such a wonderful wizard like you or she’s just not looking for anyone right now.

If you DID manage to win her over, then I offer you my friend, my heartiest congratulations! You are halfway there to charming her and making her yours forever! But oh goodness me, we can’t lose sight of that goal now that she’s confessed her love for you! Many wizards seem to give up doing wonderful things for the witches they love after their confession of love and then these witches just slip away with a broken heart.

You have to keep at the six first tips I imparted to you. Keep showing her that you’re sincere about her, that you want to keep your relationship growing. Then you are well on your way to winning her over forever.

Now, this is my eighth tip for all you wizards out there:

8. Take care of her.

Like many of the other tips I have introduced earlier, this may sound so absurdly simple but trust me, it is very vital. Assuming that you want this relationship to go long-term (which is what we’re going for) you have to show that witch that you are the One. Her knight in shining armor, who will always be there to rescue her and protect her from whatever comes her way.

With that she’ll be able to find a sense of security from you, and she’ll always feel safe around you and know that no matter what it is, you’ll always be there to protect her and take care of her, long-term.

Now if you manage to do that, then you’ve got it made.

-12 Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches, Chapter 8, Protecting Her

Harry frowned once again at the sound of disembodied coughing coming from Hermione’s bedroom door and hesitated in the middle of the doorstep. She had been coughing the entire night already, resulting in his spending the entire night by her side, trying to feed her the Pepper-Up Potion which was rather useful in the case of colds. But it seemed as though it hadn’t worked, but he remembered that she had promised, she would go to work and get another stronger dosage.

With one more worried glance at her closed bedroom door, he stepped out of the house and into the drafty corridor, before heading down the stairs and into the sunny streets. He was heading to work early such that he could make it in time to Ron’s place after work to talk to his best friend.

Merlin, his life felt like a whole mess that needed to be sorted out.

But at least he had sorted things out with Hermione, he thought, a smile brightening his face as the morning sunlight was beginning to cast its rays over the rooftops. He still couldn’t believe that after all he had done, she had eventually fallen for him. They’d become closer, he remembered, after that incident on the gorge, he was glad to be able to walk into her office and wait for her to get off work, and then the both of them, holding hands would take a long walk home where they would have a nice dinner together.

He also remembered how she had come to his office once during lunch, smiling shyly as he introduced her to some of the other Aurors as his girlfriend, who had given her warm, welcoming smiles. That had seemed to make everything official, he smiled even wider at the thought that everybody knew that they were going out. Seeing her in his office had made everything so real, and Harry remembered the thrill of happiness that had coursed through his entire being when he had seen her standing in his office.

But yet, he knew that he couldn’t just continue to date Hermione blithely and ignore Ron, who was ultimately his best friend. He still felt guilty, and when he talked to Hermione about it, she understood too, because she had been feeling the same way too. So they’d begun to go out of their way to talk to Ron who was still putting up at George’s place. Harry often went there after work, banging on the door futilely to get Ron to talk to him. Hermione also went there, however her last visit had culminated her standing there for about an hour, and eventually when she did leave she had been caught in the rain, resulting in her catching a cold.

The weeks of tireless work and little sleep had contributed to this cold becoming worse than it had been initially but Hermione still insisted on going to work, seeing as she wanted to observe the effects of her potion on the people inflicted with that mysterious disease for any side effects, and seeing her so determined to make it to work, Harry had relented, going to her office whenever he could just so to check up on her and walking her to and from work, to make sure that she was alright.

But last night had been the worse and he hadn’t wanted to leave her on her own to walk to work. But he knew he had to be in the office early this morning for a meeting and also to get some more paperwork done before he could leave the office early so as to talk to Ron, who was now enjoying a well-deserved rest as the Puddlemore team had just made it to the finals of the Quidditch World Cup, and was enjoying a short break before heading back to practice. And she had urged him to go, saying that she would be fine, that she would go to work and whip up a stronger dosage of Pepper-Up Potion and maybe if she could get off early, meet him at Ron’s. And so, he had unwillingly left the apartment for work.

The afternoon whizzed by as Harry struggled through the masses of paperwork, but eventually by 5 in the afternoon he was able to pass the files to his superior, Hestia Jones with a satisfied and tired smile, who barely looked up from her own paperwork to give him a brief nod that he was dismissed.

With that, Harry walked out of the Headquarter and Apparated to George’s place which was a small apartment above their first branch of the Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes which had been rapidly expanding across the wizarding world and even overtaking the old-time favorite Zonko’s. He stopped by in the shop, which was extremely packed to say a quick hello to George who gave him a grin and the keys to his apartment so that Harry could let himself in. With that, Harry stepped once more out of the shop and headed towards George’s apartment, feeling slightly nervous at what he was going to say to his best friend, whom he hadn’t seen in some time.

He let himself into the apartment which was cozily furnished, but rather untidy. Side-stepping the piles of clothes that lay on the floor askew, he wondered if he should call for Ron or he should go looking for him. But just then, the redhead emerged from a door nearby, looking mildly surprised at what he thought was George coming back from work, his look of surprise becoming a sullen expression, his blue eyes becoming like ice in the afternoon sun, seeing as it was Harry.

“What are you doing here?” Ron stuffed his hands into his pockets, not looking at Harry as he spoke to the carpet. “I thought you and Hermione were too happy without me now that you two are together and I’m not in the apartment.”

The barb stung but Harry felt a flame of anger come to life in him at his best friend, whose anger hadn’t seemed to have waned over these weeks. “That’s not true and you know it.”

Ron gave a derisive snort, looking at Harry for the first time in their exchange. “Well, you two are together now aren’t you?” He glared at Harry. “All my life I’ve always been overshadowed by you, and I’ve always had to be the second-best.” His words now held bitterness. “Finally I had something you didn’t; Hermione and you had to take her away too!” Harry couldn’t believe what Ron was saying but yet could hear the restrained fury and jealousy that leaked out into his statement.

“Don’t speak of Hermione as if she’s something to possess.” Harry grounded out his words, steel threading his words as he spoke. “I may have taken her away Ron but I didn’t do it just so to spite you. I didn’t mean to fall for your girlfriend but I did. Just as how she did, with me.” He narrowed his eyes at the redhead. “We can’t pick the people we fall for, Ron.”

There was silence at his statement as the two stood rigid, their gazes unyielding to one another’s. But then the thickening silence was broken abruptly by a sharp rapping at the dirty window, where Harry could see an owl waiting on the ledge.

Harry looked away from Ron and went to the window to retrieve the owl, which perched on his shoulder, holding out the envelope, which was an official one from St. Mungos’ addressed to “Mr. Harry Potter/ Mr. Ronald Weasley”. As soon as Harry had untied the envelope from the tawny owl, the bird soared through the air and out of the apartment as Harry looked at the envelope worriedly and tore it open.

Ron watched, feigning indifference as his best friend read the parchment anxiously, his emerald eyes darkening with every sweep of the parchment, scanning over the words, the crease forming between his eyebrows indicating that something had gone wrong. Harry looked up from the parchment, worry clouding his next words.

“Hermione’s collapsed at work.” He looked down at the parchment once more, as if willing the news not to be true. “I told her not to go to work today but no, she just didn’t want to listen, did she?” Harry seemed to talking more to himself than to Ron, and Ron could see the deep caring in his best friend’s eyes for Hermione, reflected as worry and anxiety and felt a rush of mingled jealousy and realization. Harry started towards the door but paused in mid-way, turning back to look at his best friend who was still standing there. “Didn’t you hear me? Hermione fainted at work! We have to get there and see if she’s alright.” Ron could clearly hear the worry that underlined his every word.

“You go.” was all that he could offer, still looking down at the carpet, the anger leaving his voice. “After all, you’re all she needs right now.” And as he said that, he knew just how true that was. It wasn’t meant as a barb but rather it was more like a realization. But Harry’s emerald eyes, if possible, narrowed even further in momentary anger.

“Merlin, Ron! Would you just stop saying that?” Harry shouted, his voice bouncing off the walls as he crumpled the parchment into a ball in his fist. “Hermione needs you too! You’re her best friend too, just in case you’ve forgotten!” Harry looked away then, shaking his head before throwing the parchment at Ron. “You know what? If you want to come and see her, do that. If you don’t, I don’t even see why she can call you her best friend anymore.” And with that, Ron watched as his best friend left the apartment in hurry and the disembodied crack he heard after that showed that his best friend had probably Apparated to St. Mungos’ already.

Ron stood there for the longest time, not moving, but thinking. Thinking about the worry that Harry had shown when he realized that Hermione had collapsed at work. Thinking about how Harry’s eyes had reflected his love for Hermione even when he had been speaking to Ron. And he knew, what was to be done as he bent down slowly to pick up the crumpled ball of parchment on the floor.

******************

He watched them through the crack in the door which had been left ajar, not wanting to go in just yet.

He saw his best friend, sitting by her side and smoothing back her hair tenderly and saying something that made her smile wryly. He saw how his best friend had slumped slightly when relating something to her, and how she had sagged slightly too, but later how she had tried to smile, tried to comfort him too and how she had gently smoothed his hair back as well, telling him something that he couldn’t really hear.

He could see how much they loved each other and how they were happy, at least until he would give them his blessing.

And with that, he quietly pushed open the door to Hermione’s ward, giving them a small smile. “Hey.”

Hermione began to push herself up, her eyes widening in mingled surprise and happiness, Ron noticed with a jolt, a smile taking over her face. “Ron!”

Harry helped her up, gently propping her up with a few pillows, and walked over to his best friend, a big grin on his face as he asked, “What took you so long?”

And Ron could only grin back and shrug his shoulders and say, “Well I’m here now, aren’t I?”

And he knew that things were back to the way they were meant to be.

Aaaah. Things are going to go back to fluffy now I promise! Review please!

## 10. Supporting Her

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of HP but I do own this little plot.

Author’s note: This chapter is dedicated to my best BFFFF Melissa who is an awesome writer and friend. I love you dear, even though you hate sap and I hate cynical.

Alright. Let’s move on to the ninth step, which is of course just as important. However it is one of last few steps towards the final step and therefore is more than vital in securing her for life.

Now I may sound final when saying that but having proceeded thus far into the book, we will emphasize more on long-lasting relationships, and so if you are looking more of for flings, I suggest you put down this book immediately and peruse yet another book of mine, 8 Ways to Sweep Her off Her Broomstick.

Right, now let’s move on to the ninth step:

9. Support her in all she does.

Like I’ve said before for the umpteenth time, this is simple. You have to support everything she does. If she’s thinking about taking up a new sport like Quidditch or water-skiing, tell her you’ll be there to watch her by the sidelines or help her. If she’s thinking about starting a new book club or something of the sort, tell her you’ll be there for the first meeting.

Essentially, whatever she wants to do, tell her that you’ll be there to cheer her on and support her. Even if what she’s planning to do sounds completely demented, offer the same line and try to be there to help her and support her.

The punch line of this chapter:

“Well, I don’t really know much about it but if you want to do it, I’m behind you all the way.” (Feel free to make it more supportive but this is just the basic line.)

So go out there and support her in all she does!

-12 Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches, Chapter 9, Supporting Her

It was a perfectly normal Saturday morning in the apartment. Ron expectantly watched as Hermione carried over a steaming plate of eggs to the table while Harry carried the jug of orange juice over to the table, bringing up the rear. As Harry seated himself, Hermione slapped Ron’s hand away from the plate of bacon rashers, while Ron pulled back his hand from the plate with a sheepish look gracing his features.

As usual, Hermione and Harry shared a look of amusement when Ron immediately went on to pile his plate high with eggs, sausages, and bacon rashers. Hermione picked up the jug of orange juice and poured three glasses of bright orange juice while Harry smiled his thanks silently as he took a sip from his glass before taking a bite of his bacon.

Yes, it was a perfectly normal morning in their household anyway.

Hermione speared a sausage with her fork and took a bite of it thoughtfully, chewing before she spoke into the serene silence that usually surrounded their breakfast table in the morning. “You know, I’ve been thinking lately.”

Ron shot Harry an uh-oh look before trying to speak furtively with his mouth full. “Not a good sign, mate. Remember the last time she said that?” Harry hid his amused smile with yet another sip of his juice, remaining diplomatically silent, motioning Hermione to go on who gave him a grateful smile after shooting Ron a warning look, which Ron raised his hands at in defense, his mouth still full of bacon and eggs.

“Thank you Harry.” Hermione said primly before setting down her fork, her eyes sparkling with interest as she continued. “I’ve been thinking lately and I want to try and branch out into other areas, other than just being a Healer.” She clasped her hands at this and looked around the table, her eyes clearly seeking their comments and approval.

Harry spoke before Ron could, setting down his glass of orange juice. “You want to quit your job?” His voice held no hint of judgment but rather was an invitation for her to go on as he signaled to Ron not to say anything more which was not possible for the redhead anyway who was trying to swallow the food in his mouth.

“No, of course not!” Hermione shook her head vehemently, “I love my job and I don’t want to quit. It’s just…” She paused thoughtfully, “I want to do other things too.” Ignoring Ron’s derisive snort, Hermione picked up her fork to take a bite of the abandoned sausage. “You know how Kingsley’s been elected Prime Minister, don’t you?”

Harry nodded, recalling the elections which had taken place the other week which had had such feeble competition against the Auror and the member who had obviously been made for the job. He smiled at the thought of the Auror who had been a comfort to him during the war and was glad that now Kingsley was working as the Minister of Magic where hopefully he could undo the wrongs his predecessors had made.

“So,” Hermione went on, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, an almost nervous and endearing habit Harry recognized. “I was thinking of setting up S.P.E.W.” She gave a short nervous laugh, indicating how much she really wanted their support on this. “You know, professionally.”

Ron choked on the bit of egg he had been swallowing, while Harry simply took a bite of his bacon rasher, more calmly.

S.P.E.W had been a society which protected house-elves that Hermione had thought about setting up in their fourth year at Hogwarts and he and Ron, Harry remembered with an almost fond smile, had been vehemently against the idea but had gone along with it, just to humor Hermione, taking part in all the meetings (which comprised of only the three of them and a few odd others like Neville) only out of mere obligation to Hermione.

“Are you crazy?” Ron managed, after coughing violently to spit his sausage out into a paper napkin. “Why would you want to do that? It’s just so… so…”

Harry signaled with his eyes to Ron to stop talking which Ron did. Hermione was looking up at the both of them with a mixture of defiance and dismay. “You really think so?” Her voice was hushed slightly but she spoke firmly, and stood her ground. “I think it’s a good idea. Now that Voldermort’s gone, I think its something…something feasible.” She looked straight at Harry, her eyes seeking his opinion earnestly.

Harry leaned back in his chair, his eyes thoughtful as he answered the unspoken question in her eyes. “I think…” He paused to draw out his answer. “I think it’s a good idea.”

Immediately, Hermione’s eyes brightened and Ron narrowed his at Harry. But Harry remained unfazed, his eyes distant as he continued.

“I’ve been thinking about Dobby lately.” Harry admitted, looking down at the tablecloth now. “I want to do something for him and I think this might be the way to do it.”

Hermione and Ron were respectfully quiet for a minute there. But Hermione was remembering that night at Shell Cottage, when although Ron had helped her in, insisting that she sit down at least, she had struggled to her feet to stand by the window and watch as tears streamed down her cheeks silently as she watched Harry, the intense pain of losing yet another dear one written all over his face, how he had laid Dobby to rest gently, almost reverently and how he had dug Dobby’s grave personally, with every mechanical thunk of the shovel hitting the dirt, his misery had become almost unbearable for her to watch as she could almost feel her own heart writhing in pain.

She remembered it now, sitting in the morning sunlight and gently covered her hand with his, with a small smile. Harry looked up from the tablecloth, smiled and grasped her hand tightly as Ron watched them, another small smile on his own lips.

“We’ll talk to Kingsley tomorrow if he can make time to speak to us.” Harry promised her. “Let’s make it official in Dobby’s memory.”

And Hermione nodded, her smile growing wider.

**********************

And so they did. Kingsley listened to their idea, and applied it in a methodical way of his. He had been all for it, although they weren’t exactly sure how the rest of the wizarding world would take it, but Kingsley reasoned that they would have to accept it eventually. It would be a new change for the elves in status, a new change that would rock the foundation of the wizarding world, something that would be not be as big as Voldemort’s death, but something sensational.

And now S.P.E.W was officially up and running, with Hermione as the head of it. Already, they had more than 20 elves trying to find real jobs under them, which was something to celebrate, seeing as how S.P.E.W had only opened last week. And now, Hermione thought, smiling to herself, as she leaned against her new desk, with a pleased smile on her face, what she had hoped for had eventually come true.

She would be very much busier of course but she would continue her job at St. Mungos’ out of the office, still helping to find cures for elusive illnesses but she would be very much attached to her office here and she had already met all the elves who seemed to be adjusting quite well to being free and were even beginning to like the idea of having real work to do and being paid for it.

Just then, a knock came at the door. “Come in,” She called, the happiness in her voice evident and her smile widening as she saw it was Harry.

He walked in, wearing his trademark grin, his emerald eyes sparkling. “How’s the new head of S.P.E.W? Feeling a little overworked?” He teased as she wrapped her arms around his neck, and he tightened his arms around her waist, pulling her closer to him.

“How could I be?” Hermione smiled, leaning away from him slightly, his arms still looped around her waist. “I couldn’t be overworked, doing the things that make me happy.”

Harry grinned down at her. Merlin, he loved to see her smile, to see her happy, like this. “I’m glad to see you so happy.” He admitted softly, removing one of his hands from around her waist to smooth a curl out of her eyes.

Hermione smiled up at him and gently kissed him on the lips, surprising him, “Thanks for always supporting me, Harry.” She reached up to push some of his raven locks out of his eyes. “I could never have done it without you.”

“Anytime.” Harry lowered his lips to hers once more in a tender kiss before pulling away to smile at her. “Ready to go for lunch?”

“Let’s go.”

And the both of them walked out of her office, hand in hand as a beam of sunlight from the crack in her curtains hit the wall opposite where a gleaming plaque hung. And it glinted almost proudly in the sunlight, its words in polished brass reading:

For Dobby, A Free Elf.

I wasn’t planning on making it this long but it just wrote itself! Hope you guys liked it and please review!

## 11. Not Forgetting

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of HP but I do own this little plot.

Authors note: I’m having exams now so I might not be able to update as frequently as usual. But rest assured, I’ll do my best. Thanks for all your reviews because they really encourage me. Keep them coming!

We’re certainly moving fast now, seeing as how we’re already on the tenth chapter, which means the tenth tip. Two more down to go and then you, my friend, will have charmed her heart to have only you. But let’s not get too hasty now; let’s keep focused on our goal here. So here’s the tenth tip:

10. Never, ever forget the important dates.

This is an extremely important point that so many wizards seem to ALWAYS neglect. Witches are always hoping deep in their hearts that wizards will remember important dates in their lives and most wizards just go about happily doing the opposite. The witches then have to grudgingly remind the wizards about the important date and the wizards then rush out to get her a present which takes out the pleasure out of that witch’s special day. So you, my friend, will be the one to change all that and let her enjoy her special day, for once.

Bookmark that day in your calendar, write in down in bright red on your hand if you must (and don’t wash it off) but just by any means remember it and don’t forget! If she has to remind you, then you have failed in completing this step. If you somehow get any hints from someone around her that today is a special day to her, rush out immediately to get her something before she catches on that you have forgotten.

Witches love wizards to remember their special day and it could be ranging from the really obvious ones that you should know by now, like her birthday Valentine’s Day or even your one year anniversary. If you manage to go one up by surprising her with gifts on a special day she didn’t even know about, like the first day you both met, etc, then you, my friend have outdone yourself and you can trust me on this that she will be beaming with joy throughout the entire day.

So mind you, don’t forget now!

-12 Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches, Chapter 10, Not Forgetting

Hermione looked at the leaf of parchments that had just arrived from St. Mungos’ this morning and sighed, fingering the first piece as she stared at its words absently. Her mind was far from work today, she knew, and it would take her nothing short of a miracle to focus on researching how to find a cure for this new disease that had surfaced.

She leaned back in her chair, still holding the parchment but she was now staring at the opposite wall, thinking. Merlin, why was she making such a big fuss out of this? It was no big deal really. It didn’t matter if he had forgotten, she really didn’t mind, she told herself. She attempted once more to focus on the subject at hand, but instead put down the parchment with yet another sigh.

She knew how important this day really was to her and she couldn’t help but feel slightly- alright- more than slightly disappointed that Harry had actually forgotten.

Today was their one-year anniversary, so to speak. And Harry had seemed to completely forget about it.

Hermione Granger, although being a self-professed workaholic and usually not giving two hoots about such things, still cared very much about this date for some reason and she was rather surprised and upset that he had forgotten. Harry had been a wonderful boyfriend to her thus far, always seeming to read what was on her mind and what she needed, he would do for her and so she had been a little disappointed that he had forgotten.

But yet, no one, she reasoned with herself, not even Harry could be perfect when it came to this sort of thing. She was already lucky enough to have such a wonderful boyfriend like him and she knew it too. It really didn’t matter that he had forgotten. After, most wizards she knew too always forgot such important dates as well.

She tried for a smile, hoping to make herself feel better and straightened up in her seat, pushing her hair back from her face. Yes, it really didn’t matter. Maybe she would just hint to Harry that it was their anniversary to him later tonight and she knew that he would definitely pick up the hint. Maybe he would send her flowers or something at work.

And with that, she began to get to work on the sheaf of parchments in front of her, trying her utmost to erase that little nagging doubt still left her mind that he had actually, really forgotten.

****************

But as the day went on, her hopes sagged even more.

Hermione, although trying to have convinced herself that it was mp big deal that he had forgotten, knew that no person who claimed not to care anymore would have gotten out of her seat practically every five minutes to walk out to the reception area just to make sure that there had been no presents or cards or owls had come for her lately.

But still, her receptionist remained stubbornly silent throughout early part of the day and she was forced to return to her seat empty-handed every time.

When he had come by her office for lunch later, grinning, her hopes had been momentarily raised, but it was only when he told her that Ron had gotten the two of them tickets to the Quidditch World Cup for this year seeing as how his team would be playing in the finals. Hermione had then agreed, rather half-heartedly on her part to go and put an obligatory smile on her face to show how glad she was that they could after all go to support Ron.

All throughout lunch, Harry had cheerfully chatted about the new assignment they had just received at work today and the foreign transfer from Transylvania that had just arrived this morning and spoke with such an odd accent (rather like Viktor’s, although Viktor was Bulgarian and his accent was thicker) and asked her about the new assignment she too had received from St. Mungos’ this morning and asked if he could be of any assistance to her in helping her figure out the cure. And all throughout lunch, Hermione had simply agreed with everything Harry had said without consciously knowing that she was agreeing.

Inside, however she felt like she was shriveling up and dying.

She had even tried hinting to Harry during the lunch, asking him what was today’s date, to which he had replied that it was May the 16th, and that was it. Nothing more. Nothing less. After that she’d just given up, feeling that there was no point in trying to give him hints because obviously he couldn’t take it.

She had been so quiet throughout lunch after that that even Harry had noticed it at last and had asked her concerned, if she was feeling alright and she had simply forced yet another smile on her face and just say that she was completely well, she was just thinking about something. But Harry’s expression had still held a flicker of concern even when he dropped her off at her office, making her feel slightly better for the first time today at his concern for her.

But after that, she had still found herself unable to fully concentrate on her work that afternoon, hoping that he would owl her with dinner plans or something of that sort at a nice restaurant, and her heart had jumped when her receptionist had poked her head in with an owl from Harry….

Only to sink when she saw his brief message:

Mione,

Ron has a date with Luna tonight (Interesting development isn’t it? We’re going to have to ask Ron about that tomorrow) so it’s going to be just the two of us. I’ll get something back for dinner tonight, so you don’t have to buy anything on the way home or cook dinner. See you back home.

> Love,

> Harry

She had sighed upon reading his familiar script and replied back with a short ‘alright’. By the looks of how things were going, it didn’t seem as though Harry was actually going to remember at all. And it disturbed her slightly that he didn’t remember at all. But yet again, she reasoned for what must have been the millionth time today that it was perfectly normal for wizards or guys to just forget the important dates.

After all, guys usually looked at the big picture, rather than the details and she couldn’t fault Harry for that.

But she couldn’t help feeling slightly sadder when she went home and as she stood outside the door to their apartment, fumbling at the lock with her keys, and silently thought: Oh well. There’s always next year.

And pasting a smile on her face, she entered the apartment…

Merlin.

The main lights had been turned down; giving the room a dimmer look and Hermione could see candlelight gleaming from the direction of the kitchen. Slipping off her shoes silently and taking in this curious sight on wonderment, she noticed a bouquet of roses and nosegay wrapped in a gaily bundle of white and pink gauze lying on the table which stood by the side of the hallway and picked it up quietly, inhaling their sweet, musky smell, and closing her eyes at their scent.

“Hi, Mione.”

She whirled around to see Harry leaning on the doorjamb of the kitchen, his arms crossed and smiling at her reaction to the flowers. She could feel her lips curve in a small smile, as she cradled the bouquet in her arms carefully, feeling the welcome surge of pleasure and happiness flush throughout her body.

“Harry… what…?” She could only manage, her smile growing wider. He did remember after all. He hadn’t forgotten it was their anniversary after all.

“You thought I would forget our anniversary, didn’t you?” Harry smirked good-naturedly as he walked towards her, removing the bouquet from her arms gently and pulling her into a hug. “How could you think that of me?” He teased her, pulling away slightly, to tap her on the nose playfully.

“I….I…” Hermione shook her head. “You didn’t say anything all day. You didn’t send me flowers at work. You didn’t give me any sign that you knew at lunch!” She mock-accused him, her gaze half-teasing and half-baleful as she looked up into his emerald eyes. “How was I supposed to know?”

“Yeah, it was kind of hard.” Harry admitted, tightening his grasp around her waist. “I saw the way you seemed to look quite miserable at lunch today,” Hermione’s eyes widened at this. “And I didn’t say anything, because I wanted to make it more of a surprise.” He gently kissed her, once, twice. “I wanted this day to be special.”

Hermione could only smile up at him to kiss him once more. “Thank you.” She paused for a minute to reach up a hand to caress his cheek. “You really know everything about me, everything I’m thinking.” Her eyes shone with tenderness. “Thank you.”

Harry grinned down at her, brushing a light kiss across her forehead. “Hey, no problem. How could I forget anyway?” He released her reluctantly but instead reached for her hand. “Ready for dinner?” At the unspoken question in her eyes, he added, “Its steak and mushrooms, your favorite.”

Hermione laughed, squeezing his hand. “Lead the way, Mr. Potter.”

Ahahaha. Tell me if you liked it. Please review!

## 12. Sweet Things

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of HP but I do own this little plot.

Author’s note: This is the eleventh chapter and I’ve really had so much fun just writing this fic! Thanks again for all your reviews which always make me feel more encouraged to write more!

We’re currently on one of the last tips to win her heart and I must admit it has been a very fun journey indeed. When we come to the final of these twelve tips I hope that you, my friend, will have been able to know everything about charming a witch and remembering how to do so, because you must remember that it’s not just the winning over her that matters, but also nurturing the relationship that the both of you probably share by now.

Alright. So let’s move on to the eleventh tip here:

11. Do sweet (not to mention romantic) things for her.

Most wizards are more romantic than witches give them credit for and it’s up to you to prove her right on that one. So like most of the steps in this book, the key to doing sweet and romantic things for the witch of your dreams must come to the right juncture, the right moment. Don’t just go around doing sweet things for her when she’s in a bad mood, if not the gesture will go unappreciated. You must watch for the right time and act on it.

Now, what kind of sweet and romantic gestures will make them melt at your feet?

Simple things can even be the most romantic gestures; you just need to make sure it’s at the right time that you perform such acts. For an example, if you’re walking home together after a date and its cold out, offer her your jacket if you notice her shivering. During a romantic scene in a movie, hold her hand, and when she turns to look at you, smile at her. Simple things that don’t require much thinking are the sweetest gestures that can sweep any witch off their feet.

Like most of the tips in this book, this step is also based on good timing, so make sure that it’s the right moment to do that, before doing it.

So what are you waiting for? Go and sweep her off her feet….and into your arms!

-12 Fail-Safe Ways To Charm Witches, Chapter 11, Sweet Things

The late afternoon sunshine was warm on her face and she lifted her face to its welcoming rays, feeling its warmth seep into her skin. Hermione Granger then angled her face slightly, such that she was now looking at Harry, who was also looking at her, a warm, affectionate grin on his face, brightening his emerald eyes as he reached out to tuck a loose curl behind her ear.

She knew she probably looked a mess right now, at least her hair anyway which she was completely certain, was loose and slightly frizzy, drying in the sun now after their playing in the water just now. Her damp bathing suit was now covered up by a colorful sarong which she had knotted around her body hastily as they strolled along the tideline, hand in hand, taking in the final sunset. Her feet were bare, as were his, their slippers being left with all the rest of their items further down the beach.

This had been one of the best days of her life to say the least.

Harry had suggested, a few days back that she take a day off from work, just as he did and they could go out to this “little island” that one of his colleagues who was Muggle-born had taken him to for fishing. Hermione had agreed and now, she was glad that she had taken Harry up on that. They’d spent the entire day just on the island, which although was mostly desolate was a beautiful place, and they’d just goofed the morning off, going into the waves when they felt like it, sitting on the beach, soaking up the sun when they were tired or even just like now, taking a walk on the tideline.

“What are you thinking?” Harry nudged her slightly, such that she looked up from where she had lowered her head to watch the waves lap slightly around her ankles before retreating, leaving its foamy white surf.

She looked up into his face and smiled, squeezing his hand and standing still for a moment, as a sudden gentle sea breeze came about and ruffled the edges of her fringed sarong, and his slacks. “Don’t move.”

Harry did as she commanded, an expression of bewilderment crossing his face as she turned slightly on the spot to take in the sights around her and to look at him, her smile growing wider, with pure pleasure. “Hermione, what are you doing?” He asked, cupping her cheek, a playful smile now curving his lips.

Hermione continued to walk on, her eyes never leaving his. “Just remembering that scene in my head.” She leaned up against him slightly, “Thanks Harry. This has been one of the best days I’ve had in a long while.”

“No problem,” Harry entwined his fingers between hers, grinning. “It’s been a good day, hasn’t it?” His eyes met hers and she could see the light laughter sparkling in them, “I’ve had a lot of fun too.” He gently brushed a kiss against her forehead as they continued to walk on, their feet sinking into the damp sand.

They walked on for a while, the warm sunlight making Hermione feel slightly tired. It had been a really fun and long day, she admitted, the playing in the waves had probably tired her out there. She blinked once or twice sleepily, hiding a small yawn her hand as she looked out towards the blue-green sea, momentary tears blurring her eyes.

“Tired?” She blinked a few more times, snapping out of her dreamy reverie and turned back to look at Harry, a slight smile on her face and nodded. “It’s been a long day,” She offered, but was quick to add with another grin, “But a good long day.”

Harry paused then and let go of her hand, before walking slightly ahead of her to crouch down slightly while she looked on curiously. “Climb on, I’ll carry you for a while.” When she hesitated slightly, he turned around, a playful edge to his voice, “Come on, you don’t want me to stand here looking like an idiot all day do you?”

Hermione could only smile as she looped her arms around his neck and allowed him to hoist her up onto his back and leaned her head against his frame as he continued walking on easily. She closed her eyes and felt the cool rush of the sea breeze wash over the both of them, welcoming and quiet and she instinctively snuggled into him, wrapping her arms around his neck tighter for a minute.

Just then, Harry’s voice carried over his shoulder to reach her ears. “Hermione?”

“Hmmm?” She responded sleepily, still leaning her head on his shoulder.

“Do you ever think about what’s going to happen in the future?”

Hermione looked up at that question, her sleepiness fading momentarily at the question. She leaned her chin then on his shoulder, her eyes staring thoughtfully out at the desolate stretch of beach that was now in front of them. “Why the sudden question?”

Harry did not look at her as he answered but she could hear an odd note in his voice as he replied, “I was just curious, you know, you bringing up memories and all that… it just makes me wonder if… we’ll remember all this in the future.”

Hermione frowned slightly at the answer, “Of course I will remember this!” She protested, slightly affronted at his insinuation that she would forget. “Didn’t I just say that I was making this scene into a memory? How could I forget?”

Harry angled his face towards hers with a small smile on his face, “I know.” Just then he changed his direction towards the shelter of some palm trees whose leaves were now still, the breeze having passed. “Come on, let’s go sit down.” He paused before adding teasingly, “My legs can’t take much more of carrying you, you know.”

Hermione smacked him lightly on the shoulder, as he winced audibly, playing along. “You take that back, Harry James Potter! That was not nice!”

He set her down on a small sand dune in the cool shadow of the small grove of trees, laughing as he did so. “Alright, alright. I take that back. You’re not heavy. It’s my legs that need more bulking up.”

“And don’t you forget it.” Hermione schooled her features into an expression of mock-sternness as she shook her finger in his face playfully. And with that, the both of them burst into laughter, the high, joyful sound carrying on the air.

After Hermione had managed to get her laughter under control, she pulled her legs in to her chest quietly, watching the golden ball of the sun sink silently below the bluish-green waves that were now lapping away from them, its end unknown. The surroundings were bathed in the rosy glow of the sun’s final rays before it would dip under the waves, leaving the earth in darkness.

Hermione smiled in pleasure. It was such a beautiful sight. One of these days maybe she and Harry and Ron could come here and spend a night, she mused, it would certainly be wonderful. She would have to bring Luna and Ginny here too, she knew they would enjoy such a wonderful sight. Or maybe she would just hint to Ron and Draco about it and let nature take its natural course…

“Hermione?”

She adjusted her position to see Harry stand from where he had been seated next to her on the sand dune, his face a mask of uneasiness and apprehension, a stark contrast from the happiness that had been glowing on his face a few minutes ago. That expression startled her slightly and she could not help but frown in concern. “Harry?”

Whatever he did next was so completely unexpected that it left her shocked, stunned, feeling all the adjectives of those emotions…as well as an inane happiness that she knew she would remember for the rest of her life.

He dropped to one knee in the sand, his expression no longer worried, but serious as he looked up at her, his eyes shining quietly with deep caring and love for her.

“Hermione,” He began, his voice slightly soft. “You know how just now I was talking about future plans?”

This struck her as an odd way to begin a proposal later but at that point she was too stunned to actually even acknowledge the fact in her mind that Harry was proposing to her. She could only nod in response, knowing that her eyes had probably widened right now and she was unable of saying anything.

“Hermione,” his voice was stronger now. “I asked you that because I wanted you to be part of my future. I want to be part of your future.” He paused for a while and Hermione could see the intensity of his feelings reflected in his eyes which were darkening with every word that he spoke. “I want to carry you throughout your life, no matter what comes along.”

“Hermione,” He carefully withdrew a small, silver diamond band from the pocket of his slacks, his eyes never leaving hers and she could sense his anticipation, his nervousness as to what her answer would be. “Will you marry me?”

There was a silence after his question and she could almost sense him slightly wilting, in the deafening silence of her not answering immediately. But inside her she could feel wave after wave of extreme happiness sweeping over her entire being, overwhelming and paralyzing her to some extent as she stared at the diamond which was now glinting in the

There was never really any other answer that she wanted to give to him anyway.

“Yes,” She whispered, finding sudden tears of happiness blurring her eyes and she blinked hastily, hoping for them to quickly subside. “Yes, I’ll marry you.” She inhaled sharply and shakily, letting a full smile stretch across her face which she knew was aglow by now. “I want to be part of your future too.”

And with those words, a grin that mirrored the pure happiness she was feeling appeared on his face, and he gently slid the circlet onto her finger, the ring that would bind her to his future and him forever.

Let me know what you guys thought of it. Love you all!

## 13. Three Little Words

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of HP but I do own this little plot.

Author’s note: It’s the 12th chapter already!! I had so much fun writing this chapter, I hope you guys have fun reading it too! For my dearest Joanna, happy sweet sixteen dearie!

Well, here it is, my friends. The last and final chapter in this book of teaching you how to win her heart and make her yours. It’s been a long journey to get to where you stand right now with the witch of your dreams, but wouldn’t you agree with me in saying that it was a most fulfilling and wonderful one?

Without much further ado, we shall proceed on to the last and final tip in this book:

12. Always tell her you love her.

This is an important tip that you should put into use everyday. Send her an owl at work, just to tell her that you love her and you miss her already. When she’s at home, finishing up some work, give her a hug and a kiss and tell her you love her so much, bearing in mind to make it sound completely heartfelt, which it should be of course.

Witches need to hear that the relationship you share with them is something that you treasure and they need to feel validated to some extent, and therefore it is vital to always; always and anywhere to tell her how much you love her that you could do anything and everything for her. This is a wonderful tip that every wizard should know so as to keep his witch by his side and in his heart always.

Telling her constantly that you love her should always sound sincere and meaningful. It shouldn’t be just said in passing, or as an afterthought, but as something that you really mean and as something you want her to know, all the time. By reminding her constantly of how much you love her, you will secure your relationship and affirm it constantly, making it stronger and taking it to newer levels.

So, don’t forget to tell her just how much you love her today.

-12 Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches, Chapter 12, Three Little Words

Hermione stood before the stove, carefully flipping an egg before one side of it became too burned, never taking her eyes off the golden-yellow yolk that stared up at her from, the depths of the frying pan and the stark contrast of the pure white that surrounded it. Soft music played from the Muggle radio that was placed on the shelf erected on the wall beside the stove and its gay, lilting melody, complemented with the gentle patch of sunlight that streamed in through the sparkling kitchen windows which she had just cleaned yesterday.

She glanced quickly around the kitchen, smiling to herself, as she looked at the freshly painted cheery yellow kitchen walls which she and Harry had just done yesterday. She allowed a small laugh to escape her lips as she remembered how most of the paint had ended up on their faces, their arms, their clothes, in their bid to paint the other with more yellow paint and how Harry had had to go out for more so that they could finish the job.

The sizzling of the frying pan bought her back to the matter at hand and meticulously, she slid the egg which she had just fried onto a small porcelain plate which she had placed in preparation on the wooden sideboard and picked up yet another egg from the counter top, still thinking to herself as she cradled its delicate shape in her fingers and used a spoon to crack it, ensuring that it was broken into the frying pan.

They’d been married for about 5 months already and Hermione loved every minute of it. She felt like she could never get tired of this life, being Harry’s wife was something that she was thoroughly enjoying. They’d moved out of the flat that they’d shared with Ron (who seemed to take the news of their marriage with some sort of glee, and Hermione suspected it was partially because he could now ask a certain blond-haired young lady to move in with him without feeling awkward) and into another home, not too far away from Ron’s flat, so that they could go over for dinner every now and then.

She loved everything about her new life. How she could wake up every morning to see his face beside her, his features peaceful as he slept, or even grinning at her in a morning greeting, how she could go to sleep every night, with his arms around her, whispering to her about how his day had been and just asking her how hers had been. She loved how she could introduce Harry to her friends as her husband now, and how he would always smile and wrap his arm around her waist in a casually possessive movement that would always show all that was around that she belonged to him and him to her.

In short, her new life was everything she had hoped for and dreamed for as a little girl, and now that she was living it, she loved every minute of it.

Just then, she was brought out of her reverie by a pair of arms being looped around her waist and she smiled as she felt him lean his chin against her shoulder blade. She could feel the heat of his body pass through her skin and could feel his heart beat, a steady, strong rhythm that made her smile even wider.

“Morning, Mr. Potter.” She teased genially, not removing her gaze from the pan but still smiling nonetheless.

“Morning to you too, Mrs. Potter.” Harry carefully released one of his arms from around her waist and used it to tilt her face towards his such that he could kiss her gently. They shared a series of short, sweet kisses and Hermione could only revel in the moment, as she used her free hand to caress the side of his face and the prickly stubble that edged his jaw, a sure sign that he hadn’t shaved yet.

Finally, almost regretfully, she broke away; knowing that she would burn the eggs if she continued let him kiss her. Harry pouted slightly, but she only laughed and jabbed him in his side slightly with her elbow and he winced a little but laughed too, and tightened his grip around her waist as she continued to flip another egg.

“So what got you out of bed this early, Mr. Potter?” She glanced at the clock which read 11 am and she could not help but smile playfully, her words more joking than sarcastic.

“Well,” Harry seemed to debate the question seriously but Hermione knew that he was just playing along with her. She loved that about him too, how they could have just bantered on all day, their conversation light and teasing, belying all the affection they held for one another. She loved how he could just pick up on when she was teasing, when she was joking and play along with his famous sense of humor. “The delectable smell of eggs and bacon coming from the kitchen.”

She jabbed him once more with her elbow and he grimaced in mock-pain before breaking out into a grin that illuminated all his features. “Ouch! What is it with women and hitting their husbands?” He pouted once more, a look that always made her laugh, “You should really learn to treat a guy better you know.”

She refused to rise to the barb but instead, angled her head slightly such that she was able to look him in the eye and give him a look that was both knowing and anticipating a better answer, her brown eyes sparkling with mischief. Harry let out a gusty sigh, one that was intended to show that she had caught him, before admitting in all seriousness. “Alright, I lied. What got me out of bed was my delectable wife making breakfast for me.”

She could not help but laugh at that sentence but at the same time, it sent a rush of tenderness for him through her body, starting up from somewhere deep inside her gut and spreading throughout her body. Harry must have picked up on that vibe as well as he once again lowered his lips to her, kissing her tenderly, affectionately, only as how a husband can kiss his wife that he loves so very much.

This time however, he was the one who broke the kiss and began to trail kisses along her jaw and down her neck, making her shiver slightly. She loved that about him too, and wanted him to be the only man that could make her feel this way when he kissed her. He pulled her closer to him, such that their bodies were pressed more closely against one another and she could not help but forget the egg that was frying merrily on the stove.

But apparently, the egg did not like being neglected and the pan let out a hissing sound that indicated that the oil was extremely hot and the egg was in danger of being burnt. Hermione could not help but sigh internally. Merlin, she was never going to cook eggs in the morning again, not if Harry was going to kiss her like this every morning. And with that she tried to pull away slightly to attend to the egg but Harry refused to release her.

“Harry, stop that.” Her voice did not come out as commanding as she hoped it would and he continued kissing her in a manner that made her legs and voice feel rather weak. When he didn’t listen to her, she exclaimed in mock-exasperation but a hint of laughter in her voice, “Harry James Potter, you stop that!”

Harry then pulled away reluctantly, wearing a rather devilish grin on his face. “Why should I?” She could feel her insides tensing in anticipation, but refused to give him the satisfaction of knowing that she was feeling that way and settled for a small smirk of her own. She loved how he could also be dangerous sometimes, how he could just use all his charm on her and make her feel so light-headed that she thought she might hyperventilate.

“Because the neighbors will see.” She pronounced the reason with the clarity and the matter-of-fact tone she always used when working in St. Mungos’ to explain to the board of directors that this was why she thought that using yew was a useful ingredient in cures because of their many medicinal properties that many people often overlooked and turned her attention back to the egg which she managed to salvage by flipping it over.

“So?” Harry laid his lips against the side of her neck suddenly, making her tremble slightly, a thrill of pleasure coursing through her body. She could feel his grin against her skin as he continued. “Then they’ll understand, because they too were young and very much in love like we are now.”

“Harry,” She protested once again as he traced the edge of her ear with his lips, half –praying that he wouldn’t stop but continued, with a slight note of warning in her voice. “Don’t do that!”

“Why?” He kissed her temple, apparently disregarding her order,

“Because it’s distracting and I can’t cook in peace if you don’t stop!” Hermione mock-frowned at him, momentarily forgetting about the egg once again.

“Then don’t make eggs,” Harry shrugged his shoulders, pulling her such that she was leaning on him. “Make waffles. So much easier and less,” At this he began to kiss her once more, although this time with slightly more urgency and tenderness, a dangerous combination, Hermione had learned. “hands-on.”

However she regretfully disentangled herself from his arms, picking up her spatula to flip over the egg. “Harry….” Her voice was now warning, but it held the faintest note of laugher.

Harry laughed then, wrapping his arms around her waist again, “Merlin, I love you so much.” She unconsciously relaxed into his touch but she turned her head slightly such that she could look into his emerald green eyes that were shining with affection for her.

“You do?” She knew the answer of course, but she always loved to hear it from his lips.

Harry smiled down tenderly at her then, his emerald eyes then darkening with seriousness. “Of course I do.” He paused to brush a strand of hair out of her eyes, his fingers brushing over her skin lightly as he did so. “I love you, so, so much, Mione.”

She could feel that familiar pang of pleasure and happiness flow through her veins as it overtook her lips in a smile. And Harry, his sides of his eyes crinkling up as his lips too curved into a wide grin, kissed her once again, a soft, gentle one this time, that conveyed all his love for her and she kissed him back with equal affection in her gesture.

He then deepened the kiss, his hands sliding up the small of her back and she too, gently used her fingers to rake through his messy raven locks, making them more ruffled than they already had been. They were so caught up in the other person, so lost in the moment that they failed to even notice the shriveled, dark mess on the frying pan which was now emitting ominous clouds of black smoke behind them…

They had waffles for breakfast that day.

Ahahaha. The end of this story has come… or has it? *mysterious smile* I’m so evil, aren’t I, making you all stew in suspense. Stay tuned and of course don’t forget to review!

## 14. Passing It On

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of HP but I do own this little plot.

Author’s note: Alright, so that wasn’t the last chapter. This is the epilogue, the final chapter! For all of you, who have made this story so fun to write! I love you guys!

Now, now, you didn’t think it was just going to end like that didn’t you?

From wizard to wizard, let me just give you a few more reminders before you shut this book and never open it again. (Although I sincerely hope that doesn’t happen, more on that later in this last page.)

Like I’ve said before sometime back there in the twelve chapters, now that you’ve won her over and are in a wonderful relationship with her, you don’t just stop there! Keep at it and frequently use all the tips that were given to you in this book. You’ve tried your utmost to win her heart and now that you have, my friend, the journey for the both of you has really just begun, so don’t just stop there, keep making her remember why she wanted to be with you in the first place and I guarantee she’ll be yours forever.

Relationships are also about the two of you trying your hardest on your part to make things work, so make sure she’s not the one always trying to make this relationship work, neither should you be. Rather, the both of you should be enjoying this partnership together and having fun while trying to make it work.

Now, here comes the crux of this last page. Ready? (Don’t we sound serious now?)

Now that you’re a wizard who knows oh-so-clearly how to win any witch over with all your wonderful techniques, look around you. Do you see that poor foreign exchange wizard shuffling along there, looking all lonely and forlorn? Do you see your neighbor who’s been drinking a lot lately just because his third relationship has failed?

This book has been written to help ALL wizards and now that you, my friend have learnt these lessons well, its time to pass this trove of tips on to another hapless, luckless soul in love, so much so that he will no longer have to flounder his way through the mysterious realms of the minds of witches on his own.

So with that, I leave you with my very best wishes for you and that lucky witch of your dreams and a challenge to make another poor wizard who cannot win his own witch over, just like you.

-12 Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches, Page 176, Author’s Last Note (Passing It On).

“Harry?”

The aforementioned Harry turned his head to look at his wife, Hermione who was now sitting in bed next to him, slightly slumped against her pillow, a pensive, almost worried expression in her eyes that made him frown as well in concern.

“Mione?” He set down the Quidditch Weekly that he had been reading on the bedspread, face-down and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, his expression slightly anxious as he pulled her closer to him. “What’s wrong?”

Hermione sighed, a lone sound that made him feel even more worried. She looked slightly distracted, Harry noted, as her slender fingers began to pluck at the nubs on their creamy bedspreads, a sign of her uneasiness. He picked up her hands from where they were resting on the sheets and laced his fingers through hers such that she was looking at him in the eye.

Hermione attempted a small smile. “It’s nothing really Harry.”

He wasn’t convinced, but instead raised his eyebrows in a gesture that meant he wanted the real truth and not some phony answer. Hermione smiled then, but it faded as she leaned into his touch, talking.

“It’s James.”

Harry nodded, smiling at the mention of their oldest son, who was currently in fourth year at Hogwarts now and had just returned home after a term there. “What’s wrong with James?” He thought back on the behavior of his son when he had returned home, which has proved to be nothing out of the ordinary. But yet, looking at Hermione now, he was compelled to think otherwise. When she didn’t say anything, he nudged her slightly, “What’s wrong with James?” He repeated with slightly more urgency.

Hermione squeezed his hand absently, “I feel like I’m making kind of a big deal out of this but I think maybe you can help him.”

Harry nodded encouragingly. He loved his son dearly and would do anything and everything for him. “Go on.”

Hermione took a deep breath and went on. “James likes someone at Hogwarts.”

There was a silence on Harry’s part for a little while before he broke out into chuckles of his own while Hermione stared at him incomprehensibly.

“Is that all?” He shook his head, still grinning. “You made me think it was something serious. So do you know who she is?”

“It is actually,” Hermione looked down at the bed sheets once more, her pensive expression never wavering, sobering Harry almost immediately. “You see, I talked to James and I think he’s really bummed about the fact that… that the girl he likes doesn’t even seem to know he’s alive.” She paused and added lamely, “Or so he put it.”

Harry was thoughtful for a minute there and Hermione watched him quietly as well. Suddenly, a grin spread across his face and he turned to Hermione, and brushed a kiss across her forehead while pulling back the bedcovers and letting the magazine slide to the floor. “I’m on it. Don’t you worry about that anymore.”

Hermione could only watch in curiosity and bemusement as Harry then walked over to the chest of drawers that sat opposite their bed, and pulled open a drawer, rummaging through its contents, before extricating something from its depth and with a quick wink at her, watched as Harry walked out of the room, holding something violet and green in his hand. She could not help but frown momentarily, hoping it wasn’t a love potion Harry was giving to their son, but yet knew that Harry wouldn’t do that.

*****************

Harry walked down the dimly lit hallway of their apartment, his bare feet padding on the carpeted floor as he made his way towards his son’s room which was located at the end of the hallway, holding something that he knew would help solve his son’s dilemma.

Just then, one of the white washed doors opened and there in its doorway stood a small girl, who was rubbing both the sleep out of her eyes and looked narrowly on the brink of tears. Harry stopped then, feeling a rush of tenderness and worry at his daughter, Lily and knelt down, taking her small frame into his arms. “Lily?” He rubbed her back soothingly, just like how he always did that for Hermione. “What’s wrong?”

Lily sniffed involuntarily, rubbing her blue-green eyes with her fists, and Harry could sense that she was about to cry. “Daddy, I had a bad dream.” She managed to say, her voice muffled into Harry’s white t-shirt, and Harry could feel the wetness of some of her tears soak into his shirt.

“Daddy,” Lily’s twin, his other daughter, Leyla, appeared at the door, looking worried as well, her dark hair falling over her pale white nightgown and her emerald eyes shining with anxiety . “I was trying to tell her it wasn’t real but she didn’t seem to believe me.”

Harry then took his other daughter into his arms and the three of them hugged, just like that in the hallway, until Harry could feel his daughter’s tears subside slightly and then grinning at the both of them, picked them up suddenly, making them laugh and carried the both of them into the room, still holding the book.

He set the both of them down, using a hand to tousle Leyla’s curls and his other to ruffle Lily’s raven locks as well. “Now, don’t you worry about bad dreams, alright?” He directed his words to Lily who was now no longer sniffling but smiling slightly, which sent a rush through Harry as he saw Hermione’s smile reflected in the face of his daughter. “Daddy will stay here until the both of you go to sleep so I can chase the bad dreams away when they come.”

He saw them both nod, their actions both so earnest and trusting that his heart could not help but melt at the sight of them, which reminded him so much of himself and Hermione. Dropping the book onto a table that was nearby, he then settled Lily into bed and then Leyla, tucking the covers in and turning on the small nightlight that they slept with.

Standing over his daughters and looking at them, sleeping so peacefully in the rosy glow of the nightlight could only make him smile, almost proudly of the both of them. They were both first-years at Hogwarts, but judging from the way McGonagall sent him owls about how well Leyla was doing in Transfiguration and how well Lily was doing in Charms, he was quite certain that they had inherited Hermione’s smarts, thank Merlin for that, because he had never been any good at his studies even back then.

He waited there for a few more minutes, listening to their even breathing which indicated that the both of them were fast asleep before picking up the book and exiting the room quietly, leaving the door ajar so that he could check in on them later on his way back. With that settled, he continued towards his son’s door and as he could see a silver of light beneath the door, he knocked and entered upon hearing his son’s voice.

“Hey Dad.” James turned around from where he had been seated at his desk, his quill tip still dipped in ink, a look of curiosity on his face. “What’s up?”

James was a refection of his father, James, Harry thought with a smile, just minus the popularity with girls…for now. He shrugged and settled himself on the edge of his son’s bed with a grin. “Mom just told me something about you liking someone and her not knowing you weren’t alive.”

James started, using his other hand, rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous habit that he’d inherited from Harry. “Why did she tell you?” Harry could practically sense his son’s embarrassment about this entire matter and decided to put his son out of his misery.

“She told me so that I could help you.” Harry’s eyes crinkled up in a grin. “So I’m going to give you something that I think will be able to help you win over whoever that girl is.”

And with that, he extended the book he had been holding towards his son, who took it gingerly. The book had been well-used, its flimsy cover slightly folded at the edges and a rubber band had been used to hold together a section of the book temporarily.

“Dad,” Harry could hear the slight wonderment in his son’s voice. “What is this?”

Harry motioned towards the cover of the book. “Read it, son. 12 Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches. It’s not your average book,” He continued, quoting Ron’s words that seemed so familiar even though it had been such a long time ago. “Its pure gold. Explains all you need to know about girls. Trust me; it’s not all about wandwork either.”

Harry watched as his son carefully scanned through the book, running his gaze down the lines of advice that had helped him so much over the years to win Hermione over. “Are you sure this works, Dad?” James’s voice was filled with slight doubt but Harry could tell that his son was rather interested in all this book had to offer.

Harry allowed himself yet another grin as he stood from his son’s bed. “If it didn’t, would you be here?”

James shrugged, a smile overtaking his own face, one that mirrored Harry’s grin. “Thanks Dad.”

“No problem.” Harry made for the door. “Don’t sleep too late now mind you.”

“I won’t.” James replied, before turning his attention back to the book at hand, flipping to the first chapter to begin reading it.

Harry then padded once again down the silent hallway, stopping once to check on his daughters once again to make sure they were both sleeping soundly, which they were and entered the bedroom he shared with Hermione.

She looked up from her own book as he entered, smiling, but he could see the anticipation in her eyes. “That certainly took long. Had a good talk with James did you?”

Harry settled himself next to her in their bed, pulling her closer to him as he did so. “Nope. I just gave him something which I think would help him charm that witch.”

Hermione frowned at that, “You didn’t give him a love potion of Fred and George’s, did you?”

“Of course not!” Harry pretended to be hurt. “How could you think that of me?”

Hermione smiled then, and leaned into him. “So what did you give him?” Her voice was curious, anticipating his reply.

“Just something that helped me charm you too.” Harry looked into her eyes, a tender grin crossing his face as he brushed his fingers slightly across her face. “I love you.”

Hermione looked up into his dark emerald eyes and she could only smile back up at him in tenderness and brush a kiss across his lips before replying, “I love you too.”

Alright….This is really the end! AHHHHH. so sad. but anyways, a really big thank you to all of you who gave me such wonderful, glowing reviews that always made me smile. I love you all!