Chapter 27
One week into the summer holidays, Hermione Granger introduced Harry Potter to the wonderful world of cinema. The first few days had been nothing but enjoyable – being welcomed with open arms by the Grangers, trips to Sapphire Park and the library, re-acquainting himself with the kitchen, it was all amazing. Then, it got even better when Hermione practically kicked his door down one morning.
"Harry!" She banged on his bedroom door, prompting him to sit bolt upright in a panic. "Harry, wake up, I've got something for you!"
"Whassgoinon?" He grumbled, lifting his face from his pillow and fumbling for his glasses.
"Can I come in?"
"No!" He groaned. He managed to sit upright just in time for Hermione to waltz in.
"Good morning, Harry!" She said in a singsong voice, plopping down on the edge of his bed.
"I could have sworn I said no…"
"Oh, hush. You're going to like this."
"More than I like sleep?"
"Yes."
"Doubtful." Harry sighed, closing his eyes and leaning back into his pillow.
"You know what? Fine." Hermione huffed, leaping off the bed and turning her back on him. "I thought you might like to watch A Few Good Men but clearly you value your precious sleep…" She trailed off temptingly.
Harry was moments away from resuming his peaceful slumber when Hermione's words hit him. He snapped his eyes open and practically tumbled out of bed.
"Did you say watch?" He gasped, hastily clambering to his feet. Hermione turned back to face him, grinning mischievously. "Did you say watch?" He repeated, feeling a smile of his own creep up.
"Perhaps." She held up something that made Harry's eyes widen to the size of saucers.
"They made a movie of the greatest play of all time?" Harry walked over, eagerly wrenching the VHS tape out of her hands.
"William Shakespeare would like a word." Hermione rolled her eyes as she took the movie back. "And George Bernard Shaw, and Arthur Miller, and – "
"Alright, alright!" Harry sighed. "But, seriously, is this for real?"
"It's for real. Would you like to watch a movie?" She asked, holding it up enticingly. Harry grinned.
"I'd love that." He replied, and Hermione returned his smile before grabbing his hand and dragging him downstairs. "Morning, Mum! Morning, Dad!" She called out to her parents who were getting ready for work.
"Good morning, you two." Mrs. Granger grinned as the pair ran past her, barely stifling a giggle at Harry staggering along and looking rather disheveled. "Hermione, perhaps you should let Harry change out of his pajamas?"
"Comb his hair?" Mr. Granger offered, glancing up from his newspaper with a smirk.
"Brush his teeth?"
"Wake up?"
"Oh…" Hermione stopped her mad dash and looked at Harry, who glimpsed himself in a mirror on the wall and cringed. "Meet you down here?"
"Be right back." He grinned, taking another glance at his askew glasses and his particularly unruly-looking hair, and that was saying something.
After a few minutes of trying to make himself look presentable, he returned to the living room just in time to wave goodbye to the Grangers. Hermione grabbed him by the arm and dragged him over to the couch, sitting next to each other and staring expectantly at the television set in front of them.
"Do you know who Tom Cruise is?" Hermione asked. Harry shook his head. "He's an actor, and he plays the main lawyer."
"Lieutenant Kaffee." Harry said automatically.
"Yes, him. He's a very good actor, I've seen him in some other films."
"Like what?" Harry asked, his curiosity piqued. "Do you think I'd like those films?"
Hermione looked pleasantly surprise at his interest and nodded. "If you enjoy this movie-watching session, maybe we can watch some other ones this summer. I bet you'd like The Outsiders. Tom Cruise is in it. We'd have to borrow it from the library, though."
Harry grinned, excited at the prospect of watching all kinds of movies. He had never seen one from beginning to end, occasionally catching glances at the Dursleys' television and fragments of whatever the Grangers would flip on, so settling in on the couch to watch one in its entirety seemed like a thrill ride. Hermione must have caught onto his exhilaration and beamed at him before clicking PLAY.
Harry couldn't stop himself from whispering lines he remembered from the play in sync with the actors, earning several elbows from Hermione. Each time he was silently admonished, he smiled sheepishly before returning his attention to the movie – only to mutter another quote under his breath a few minutes later.
Eventually, the movie concluded, and Harry and Hermione sat on the couch in a content silence.
"Thank you, Hermione." Harry finally broke the lull. "I loved that."
"I did too. Although, I could have done without the know-it-all on my left whispering to himself like a lunatic every five minutes."
Harry blushed and ducked his head. "I'm sorry."
"No you're not." Hermione sighed, before smiling at him. "And you shouldn't be. You've never made me apologize for being passionate about school or books. You shouldn't apologize to me over a play that you happen to love."
Harry returned the smile, turning his head to meet her eyes. In doing so, he caught sight of his arm – draped over the back of the couch behind his best friend. Awkwardly, he pulled it back to his side, trying to suppress a blush.
"What would you like to do now?" Hermione asked, getting to her feet. "It's not terribly nice outside, so I don't think the park is the best idea." She frowned, looking out the window at a rather dreary gray sky. "It's probably going to rain soon, I doubt it's worth it to go for a walk anywhere."
"Another movie?" Harry offered with a shrug. Hermione brightened and immediately dove into the stack of VHS tapes her parents had accumulated.
The pair eventually settled on Murder on the Orient Express. Harry was excited because it was based on a book by Agatha Christie. Even if he hadn't read this particular tale, Hermione had shown him a few of her other works before: Death on the Nile, The ABC Murders, and his personal favorite, Halloween Party. He suspected he enjoyed that one in particular because he could relate to miserable Halloweens.
"I love this story!" Hermione was bursting with excitement as she inserted the tape. "I've read the book half a dozen times by now. Even though I know the ending I still love it because it's so beautifully done. The characters are so great, the premise, the dialogue, but the best part really is the ending." Hermione rambled in excitement as they returned to the couch, waiting for the movie to begin.
"Well, don't spoil it. This is my first mystery movie, after all." Harry grinned at a now smirking Hermione.
"Hmm…" She mused, sarcastically stroking her chin. "And if I did spoil it?"
"I'd go get the sword of Gryffindor from Dumbledore's office." Harry narrowed his eyes, earning a snort from Hermione. "Oh, you're laughing now, but just you wait."
"Well, you're going to love it." She said, turning to face him and placing an elbow on the back of the couch so she could prop her head up with her hand. "What I like most about the ending is how they MMPH!"
She cried out in surprise as Harry immediately clamped his hand over her mouth. "MMPH!" Hermione repeated incoherently, trying to pry his hand off of her face.
"Ma'am, please be quiet, I'm trying to watch a movie." It was Harry's turn to smirk, turning his eyes to the television but keeping his hand firmly on Hermione's face. His bushy-haired friend let out a few garbled squeals of protest and swatted him on the arm a few times to no avail.
After a few minutes, Harry gingerly removed his hand from a very flustered Hermione's face with a self-satisfied smirk. She tried to shoot him a glare, but it was rendered ineffective by her deep blush, which only made things funnier for Harry. They each returned their attention to the movie, and for the second time Harry didn't notice that his arm had found its way around her shoulders until the film concluded.
"Wow, I'm glad you didn't spoil that ending." Harry grinned smugly as he leaned back into the couch, lacing his fingers behind his head. Hermione huffed at him, crossing her arms.
"That was excessive." She muttered, both scowling and blushing. "I don't know why I didn't bite your hand or something…" She trailed off.
"You're too nice." Harry said, still feeling and looking rather arrogant.
"You think I won't go ballistic on you? I must have hit over the last two years." Hermione offered defiantly.
"Yeah but those are usually in good fun. You're too nice to do something as serious as – ow!" Harry clutched his nose as Hermione whacked him with a pillow as hard as she could. "Really? While I'm defenseless?" He groaned, turning to glare at Hermione.
"You were saying something about being too nice?" She smirked mischievously.
"You're going down, Granger." Harry grinned as he grabbed a pillow and leapt to his feet.
"Come and get it, Harry Potter. Unless you're too scared."
"You wish."
An epic battle ensued. It was one of agility and dexterity, strength and resilience, determination and tenacity. Harry found himself hurdling an armchair to avoid a particularly vicious swing of Hermione's pillow. A minute later, Hermione ducked one of his blows with surprising nimbleness before whacking him with a brutal uppercut. Before Hermione could gloat, however, he retaliated with a pair of devastating body blows with a swiftness that would make Muhammad Ali proud. No matter how hard either of them were hit, the other refused to concede.
"Stand down." Hermione growled as she backed Harry into a corner, literally. They'd been attacking each other with pillows for the better part of half an hour, darting through every room in the house. Currently, they were in Harry's room after he'd chased her up the stairs. Unfortunately, she'd turned the tables on him and now he had nowhere to run. "Final warning." She grinned impishly, raising her pillow.
"I could do this all day." Harry retorted, allowing Hermione to swing her pillow at him only to grab it and wrench it out of her hands.
"Not fair!" Hermione whined as her sole weapon was ripped away from her.
"I'm quite the fan of disarming, you know." Harry smirked triumphantly, walking out of the corner of his room towards Hermione, who gingerly stepped backwards. He brandished his two pillows eagerly.
"I understand you may want to attack me after I beat the snot out of you for the last thirty minutes." Hermione offered a small smile, and Harry scoffed. "But I have always found that mercy bears richer fruits than strict justice."
"Too much mercy has often resulted in further crimes," Harry knew his smile looked positively evil, "crimes which were fatal to innocent victims who need not have been victims if justice had been put first and mercy second."
Hermione's jaw hit the floor. "There is no way you just quoted Agatha Christie to me."
"I'm capable of surprises."
"So am I."
"What do you – MMPH!" Harry staggered backwards. Hermione had reached around her back while Harry had been gloating and had managed to wallop him while he wasn't expecting it. "Well then." Harry groaned as he adjusted his glasses. "I suppose that's fair." He admitted before winding up for a blow of his own, and the pair resumed their clash.
A few minutes later, they found themselves back in the living room, dodging and swinging their pillows. "You're too stubborn to quit, aren't you?" Hermione panted as she hit Harry in the back of the legs.
"So are you." Harry smirked as he ducked another attack.
"Truce?"
"Truce."
Instantly, the pair dropped their pillows, collapsing on the couch and breathing heavily.
"I might try and convince Wood to use half-hour pillow fights as conditioning." Harry chuckled. "I haven't been this exhausted in a while."
"Why did you have to ruin a perfectly good moment by mentioning Quidditch of all things?" Hermione sighed, playfully throwing him an elbow. "Speaking of Quidditch, you're going to quit this year, right?"
"You're funny." Harry smirked, earning a sarcastic huff from his best friend.
"One of these days you're going to fall a hundred feet off your broom and I'm just going to say I told you so." She frowned before leaning her head on Harry's shoulder.
"After crying your eyes out, sure." Harry smirked, and Hermione just rolled her eyes.
"You've been awfully smug all day. I think movies are a bad influence on you." She retorted, nestling even closer.
"Good thing I have the best influence I could ever have right here." Harry grinned. Hermione lifted her head and beamed at him.
"Do you mean that?"
"Of course I mean it." Hermione smiled contentedly and leaned her head back on his shoulder. "I mean, you're the best study partner I could ask for, you've almost single-handedly made me one of the best in our year."
"Stop it." He could tell Hermione was blushing without even looking at her.
"And you never break school rules. Except for the time you smuggled a dragon, tried to get the Sorcerer's Stone, brewed Polyjuice Potion in a toilet stall – "
"Oh, honestly!" Hermione huffed, getting to her feet. Harry snickered to himself, but his entire right side suddenly felt much colder.
"What do you want to do now?" He asked, leaning back into the couch cushions. "Got any other good movies – "
"We are not watching another movie today, Harry Potter." Hermione narrowed her eyes before holding her hand out. He took it and let her pull him off the couch. "I'm actually rather hungry."
The two trotted into the kitchen, and were halfway through preparing sandwiches when they heard a tapping at the window. Eagerly, Hermione dashed over and opened it, allowing a ragged-looking owl to come tumbling in.
"Errol!" Harry said excitedly, running over to untie the letters and package attached to Ron Weasley's owl.
"What does it say?" Hermione asked as he skimmed the letter.
"He's wishing me an early birthday because he doesn't want to risk sending Errol so far."
"Are they going somewhere?"
"Yeah, they won this Grand Galleon thing, so they're taking a holiday to Egypt to visit Ron's brother Bill."
"Egypt?"
"It's in Africa."
"I know it's in Africa, you prat!" Hermione grumbled, swatting Harry on the shoulder.
"Anyway," he smirked at Hermione's vexation, "he sent me some sweets and a Sneakoscope."
"Ooh, I've heard about these!" Hermione stared in amazement. "You shouldn't bring it to Potions, though, or it'll go off the second Snape walks in." They both shared a laugh at that and then proceeded with their lunch.
"I have to say…" Harry smirked as he popped a Chocolate Frog into his mouth. "This is a pretty good birthday gift. I'd like to see you try and top it."
"Is that a challenge?" Hermione waggled her eyebrows.
"You've got one month to top…erm, candy." Harry chuckled.
"I think I'm up to the task." She grinned. "But I'll have you know I've already ordered your present."
"No way." Harry gaped in surprise. "Do you ever think about anything besides me and books?"
"Sometimes I watch movies." It was her turn to smirk, and Harry rolled his eyes.
"Well, now I'm excited. I still use the Snitch you got me almost every day."
"I know." Hermione huffed. "I hear its wings fluttering around the house whenever you open that bloody box."
"Is this another gift that irritates you incessantly?"
"No comment." Hermione blushed and averted her eyes.
"Ah." Harry smirked. "Well, I can't wait. Any gift that comes from you will be perfect, I'm sure of it."
Hermione's blush deepened, much to Harry's amusement, until she suddenly stood up, sending her chair sliding backwards into the wall. Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise – and confusion – as she walked over to him. At first he thought he'd made a misstep, but then Hermione threw her arms around him and kissed him on the cheek. Harry sat dumbstruck in his chair, trying to remember what day of the week it was as liquid fire spread across his body from where her lips had met his skin.
"You're too sweet, Harry Potter."
Chapter 28
"New Seeker gloves?"
"Do you need new Seeker gloves?"
"Well, no, not really. And it's not a Nimbus Two Thousand and One?"
"Do you really think I'd gift you anything that would make you more like Malfoy?"
"Fair enough." Harry sighed. "But you will tell me if I guess correctly?"
"Oh, totally."
Harry paused, narrowing his eyes at his bushy-haired friend. "You're being sarcastic."
"I don't understand how anyone could ever call you dense with intuition like that."
"You're still being sarcastic."
"Well spotted." Hermione rolled her eyes, turning away from Harry and towards the glittering blue pond in front of them. "If you guess your birthday present correctly, I might tell you. I haven't decided yet." She said, smugly crossing her arms.
"You're torturing me." Harry groaned, turning to face the pond before them, along with the rest of Sapphire Park.
The pair were currently on a park bench, after enjoying the sunshine and the fresh air by walking along the footpath before they'd elected to sit down. Harry had been pestering Hermione for the better part of an hour, listing off all kinds of Quidditch-related gifts in hopes of cracking his best friend's impenetrable façade of secrecy.
"Can we talk about something besides your birthday?" Hermione sighed, turning back to Harry. "How about those ridiculous books Hagrid sent us?"
Harry snorted as he recalled how he'd woken up that morning. He'd opened his eyes at the sound of an incessant tapping at the window, and he'd eagerly run over, expecting a letter from one of his Hogwarts friends. What he didn't expect, however, was a pair of tawny owls each carrying parcels the size of textbooks.
Even more unexpected was the growl that came from inside the two boxes. Anxious at their contents, Harry banged on Hermione's door until she emerged, bleary-eyed and frizzy-haired. She didn't look fully awake until Harry dragged her into his room and pointed at the packages. Uneasily, they opened them to find that they were in fact books – The Monster Book of Monsters. Nothing seemed particularly threatening about them until they began scuttling around like bizarre crabs.
"Do you reckon Hagrid's trying to off us?" Harry smirked, recalling how his book had tried snapping at his hand every time he tried to pick it up.
"Well, I doubt that." Hermione rolled her eyes, but a small smile pulled at her lips. "I was going to ask if you think it means anything that Hagrid sent us schoolbooks about magical creatures."
"Well, Hagrid likes magical creatures. A lot." Harry offered, not sure what his best friend was getting at. She stared at him expectantly for a moment until it hit him. "Oh! He's looking out for us, figuring we can read ahead for Care of Magical Creatures."
"And?"
"What?" Harry asked, surprised at that response. "How can there be more? Hagrid's our friend, he's helping us out."
"Do you suppose Hagrid might be teaching Care of Magical Creatures next year?" Hermione raised an eyebrow. Harry turned the question over a few times in his head before he opened his mouth in a silent 'ah' of realization.
"Blimey, Hermione, you're too clever, you know that?" Harry shook his head in disbelief. Hermione's cheeks flushed red before she turned back to the pond hurriedly.
"It's just speculation."
"No, I reckon you're right."
"What makes you say that?"
"Because I can count on one hand how many times you've been wrong about anything." Harry grinned, turning to see Hermione's blush deepen. At that moment, a familiar musical jingle echoed across the park. "Fancy an ice cream cone?" He grinned.
"I'll never say no to mint chip." Hermione returned the smile, leaping to her feet and grabbing Harry by the hand. He had barely stood up before he was being dragged along the footpath at full speed, dodging other park-goers as they sprinted along, grinning from ear to ear.
"Hermione, do you ever consider just walking?" Harry panted after a minute of full-speed running.
"Oh, hush!" Hermione answered, tugging him along with even more ferocity than before. Harry shrugged, still smiling wide.
Just like every other time he and Hermione ran hand-in-hand, grinning like idiots in the park like two normal kids, many bystanders offered wistful smiles and often commented to whomever they were with.
"They're so cute, aren't they?" Harry heard a woman ask her husband as he and Hermione raced past them. Feeling his face heat up, he tried to focus on literally anything else, which wasn't easy when he heard the next few comments.
"How adorable!" A pair of women cooed as they ran through a pavilion.
"Were we as happy as them?" An elderly woman asked her husband asked they passed a cluster of picnic tables.
"Oh, we were." The older man sighed, chuckling as he made eye contact with a now flustered Harry.
"Here we are!" Hermione exclaimed triumphantly, coming to a sudden halt as they joined the line at the ice cream truck. "Same as usual?" She asked, turning eagerly to Harry.
"Erm, yeah." Harry managed to gasp out, grateful that his red face and shortness of breath could be attributed to their recent sprint. "Maybe a bottle of water." He panted, and Hermione giggled in agreement.
Harry was eager to pay for today's purchases. Towards the end of the Hogwarts term, he had written to Gringotts bank and repeated his query about converting some of his magical fortune to Muggle currency. He received a response the next day, explaining how the goblins of the bank were originally miffed at the great Harry Potter, thinking he had ghosted them during the previous summer. However, they actually found the story of Dobby's interference rather amusing, and were more than happy to help the boy wizard make some withdrawals.
Now, Harry was triumphantly handing a tenner to the ice cream truck vendor and marching off before the chipper driver could make change.
"You know you don't have to pay for me." Hermione said sheepishly as Harry handed her a mint chip ice cream cone and a bottle of water.
"I want to." Harry insisted. "It's only fair after everything you and your parents have done."
"Harry, you do remember paying for all of my school supplies last year, right?"
"No, I'm having trouble remembering." Harry mused. "Maybe I should do it again, see if that jogs my memory." He smirked.
Hermione kicked him in the shin under the table and glared at him, but eventually broke out into a burst of laughter, quickly accompanied by Harry. Eventually, the two finished their sweet treats and drinks and resumed their peaceful meander around the park.
The weather was almost perfect – the cloudless sky above them made the pond look that much bluer, that much more vivid. The sunshine glimmered on the surface, entrancing Harry every time he stared at the million little sparkles. But the one thing that kept the day from being perfect was the temperature.
The heat was almost suffocating, and after a few minutes of roaming the Sapphire Park's grounds and paths, Harry and Hermione agreed to go back to the wonderful world of air conditioning in the Granger residence.
"Welcome back, you two." Mrs. Granger beamed as the pair entered through the front door. She'd been reading a novel on one of the living room's armchairs when they left over an hour ago and it appeared that she hadn't budged. "Is it really that hot out there?" She asked amusedly, gesturing to a very sweaty Harry and Hermione.
"It must be thirty-five degrees. Maybe more" Hermione groaned, wiping her forehead as she traipsed further inside. "Where's dad?"
"One of his clients requires an emergency root canal. He's just headed into the office to prep everything, and I'll need to join him soon." Mrs. Granger slowly got to her feet, placing her book on the chair behind her.
"Why didn't you go with him?" Hermione asked.
"Because he and I had a great idea of how the two of you could spend the rest of the afternoon in this miserable heat. Not only will it be plenty of fun, but the air conditioning is no joke." The woman grinned, brandishing two small pieces of paper from her pocket.
"What are those?" Harry raised his eyebrows in curiosity.
"Tickets." Mrs. Granger's smile widened.
"Tickets?"
"Tickets for the cinema." The dentist thrust the tickets into Hermione's hand.
"I love it!" Hermione beamed, waving the papers in front of Harry's face eagerly. "What movie are we seeing?"
"Well, there's a new one that came out just a few weeks ago we thought you two might enjoy. Everyone seems to be saying it's brilliant." Mrs. Granger grabbed her car keys and began shepherding the pair towards the door.
"What's it called?" Harry asked, intrigued. Since he and Hermione had sat down to watch A Few Good Men, he'd been enchanted by the world of movies, finding any excuse to badger Hermione into popping a new VHS into the Grangers' television.
"Sleepless in Seattle." Mrs. Granger winked.
Fifteen minutes later, Harry and Hermione had been dropped off just outside the entrance to the cinema.
"Do we just walk in?" Harry asked nervously.
"Yes, just waltz on in." Hermione nodded enthusiastically. "You're going to love it, Harry. Really." Harry felt a bit of his uncertainty dissipate at that. "Now, let's get out of this heat before we start frying like eggs."
Harry chuckled and happily followed his best friend to the door, making a point of opening it for her.
"Quite the gentleman." She said sheepishly, and Harry felt a blush creep up on his cheeks. Hermione let him stand and admire the gigantic lobby they had just entered. The entire room was bustling with activity, with all kinds of sights and sounds Harry had never seen nor heard, but now found fascinating. He darted his eyes to the right to see an arcade – something he'd only seen on television before. For a moment he felt drawn towards it, but then he looked to the other side of the atrium and spotted the concessions stand.
"Hermione, I don't think I've seen this much candy in my life!" He gasped in surprise as he practically bounded over to the display case.
"Well, not for a lack of trying. Every time that trolley comes around on the Hogwarts Express you buy enough sweets to feed a village." She snorted. "I think you should dedicate your attention to something other than candy, though." She added with a smile.
"What then?"
"You, Harry Potter, are about to discover the pure euphoria that comes with eating movie theater popcorn." Hermione grinned, grabbing him by the hand and dragging him to the front of the concessions counter. "Are you alright with water?"
Harry nodded, and Hermione beamed before turning to the cashier. After Harry insisted on paying for their large popcorn and two bottles of water, they began to wandering towards their theater.
"Do you think you'd prefer to sit in the front or the back?" Hermione asked as they pushed through the door and surveyed the almost entirely empty theater in front of them. "If you want my advice – "
"Always appreciated." Harry smirked before taking a swig from his water bottle.
"Well, sitting towards the front isn't great for your neck. Or your eyes. I personally prefer the back." She offered, turning to him expectantly.
"Back row it is." Harry nodded before ascending the stairs towards the very last row. The pair scooted along towards the middle and plopped down contentedly. "Your mum was right about the air conditioning." Harry smiled. After the unbearably high temperatures of the outdoors, the gusts of cool air inside the dark movie theater was almost heavenly.
"Have you tried the popcorn yet?" Hermione asked, popping a few pieces into her mouth. "Don't tell my parents we got a large, by the way. They'll make us brush our teeth for an hour."
"Hermione Granger, defying her parents?" Harry raised an eyebrow as he gingerly plucked a piece of popcorn from their bucket. "Oh, never mind. I get why." He grinned as he began chowing down on a handful of popcorn. "This stuff is amazing."
"I'm glad." Hermione gave a warm smile. "Want to play a game?"
"Are there a lot of games one can play in a movie theater?" Harry asked quizzically.
"Try and catch this in your mouth. You keep track of how many you catch, I'll keep track of how many I catch." Hermione grinned before lobbing a piece of popcorn into the air. Harry instinctively leaned his head back and opened his mouth, snaring the buttery piece in between his teeth. Triumphantly, he turned to face Hermione and crunched down with a wink.
The two of them took turns chucking popcorn into the air and either applauding or cackling, depending on if the other caught it or not. Gradually, many other patrons made their way through the doors and into their seats, but the duo paid little attention to them. They were too absorbed in their intense game of edible catch. Harry found himself laughing particularly hard after Hermione had a piece bounce off her eyebrow, earning him an unamused glare.
"Sorry, sorry. I'm sure I'll bungle this one, anyway." He winked, eliciting an eye-roll from Hermione, who promptly flicked a piece straight into his face. "Hey!" He hissed as it ricocheted off his glasses, and it was Hermione's turn to titter.
Harry opted to snatch a few pieces of popcorn and launch them at Hermione in quick succession. She was only able to catch one, with a couple bouncing off her face as she struggled to move her head that quickly. It didn't help that she was still laughing hysterically.
One piece, however, got caught in her mane of bushy brown hair, trapped by her locks just above her forehead. Harry began openly guffawing at the sight, but made a point of not looking at it.
"Are you laughing at my reflexes?" Hermione pouted once she managed to stop laughing. "Not everyone can be the best Seeker at Hogwarts."
'She really thinks I'm the best Seeker at Hogwarts?'
"Sorry, sorry." He snorted, curious as to how long she'd go without noticing. Hermione rolled her eyes once again and turned to watch the previews. Harry found himself shaking with barely-suppressed laughter but didn't give away the piece of popcorn trapped in a few of his friend's frizzy strands.
It was almost five minutes later when Hermione distractedly let out a sharp exhale, inadvertently fluttering some of her hair and allowing the popcorn to tumble into her lap. She stared for a moment, perplexed, before whirling on Harry.
"Just when were you going to tell me about that?" She growled, thrusting the popcorn below Harry's nose.
"Ma'am, please be quiet, I'm trying to watch a movie." Harry replied without taking his eyes off the screen. Hermione groaned, throwing him a not-so-playful elbow before turning back to the previews.
"So do you know what kind of movie this is?" Harry asked after a few minutes. "Because I really liked the mystery in Murder on the Orient Express, I wouldn't mind watching another one of those."
Hermione just giggled, and Harry raised an eyebrow.
"It's called a rom-com. A romantic comedy."
"Romantic?" Harry asked in disbelief. "I'm about to watch a romance movie?"
"Honestly, Harry!" Hermione sighed in exasperation. "Your precious A Few Good Men has romance in it."
"Yeah, but that's not the allure of the entire play. Or the movie."
"I think you should give it a chance. I watched a fair amount of movies like these growing up, and they've always been at least enjoyable." Harry shrugged at that. "Plus, it's loads better than being out in the heat."
"Fine."
"I think you'll enjoy it. Have you ever seen a rom-com before?"
Harry shook his head, and Hermione giggled. "I'm glad I'm here for your first one." She smirked before turning back to the now-starting movie.
Harry sighed as the movie began. He couldn't deny that he had very little expectations for Sleepless in Seattle. He didn't strike himself as the type to end up heavily invested in the romantic lives of a few fictional characters. He'd practically tuned out the romance in A Few Good Men in favor of the brilliant dialogue and premise.
Harry Potter planned to laugh at the jokes, enjoy most of the dialogue, and disregard the romantic elements entirely.
But the best laid plans of mice and men oft go awry, don't they?
It started with an early quote from Tom Hanks's character, Sam Baldwin: "It was a million tiny little things that, when you added them all up, they meant we were supposed to be together, and I knew it. I knew it the first time I touched her. It was like coming home, only to no home I'd ever known."
Harry suddenly found it very difficult to think about anything except how at peace he felt whenever he and Hermione touched. Holding hands, hugs, pecks on the cheek, brushing knees under desks, bumping elbows at the Great Hall, all kinds of memories came racing through his head at warp speed.
A few minutes later, it was Meg Ryan's character who had Harry thinking about a certain someone: "You make a million decisions that mean nothing, and then one day you order take-out and it changes your life."
'You make a million decisions that mean nothing, and then one day you pull out Hogwarts: A History and it changes your life.' Harry didn't even know where the thought had come from, it was like his brain had formulated it on pure instinct. Even with the cold air being blasted throughout the theater, he suddenly felt very hot.
"And then he held my hand. At one point I looked down and I couldn't tell which fingers were his and which were mine. And I knew…"
Visions of his fingers laced with Hermione's began bombarding Harry's brain, and he felt his pulse quicken.
"I just want somebody I can have a decent conversation with over dinner."
Who else possibly compared to Hermione when it came to just chatting away? Over dinner, over breakfast, over anything, having a decent conversation with Hermione Granger was as easy as breathing. Speaking of breathing, Harry Potter was suddenly breathing rather heavily.
"It was like…magic."
'Magic.' Harry silently repeated to himself. He glanced over at Hermione, who was watching the movie with rapt interest. He stared for a moment at how the light of the screen reflected off of her eyes – eyes he'd found himself lost in many times in the past but couldn't explain why. He was just drawn to them as if they were…magic. He couldn't think of a better descriptor as he gazed in amazement at his bushy-haired friend.
One of the characters made a joke, and several audience members laughed, including Hermione. Harry barely heard anything going on in front of him, instead captivated by Hermione's radiant smile and the accompanying giggles. The stunning sight paired with the undeniably delightful sound was like watching a sunset while listening to Mozart. For a blissful moment, his mind went completely and utterly blank.
Then, a single thought rattled around his brain with such a profound intensity that Harry suddenly felt compelled to lie down.
'I have a crush on Hermione Granger.'
Chapter 29
The ensuing days were nearly torturous for Harry Potter. It started the moment the movie ended, and Hermione took his hand in hers and led him out of the theater. Every time they'd laced their fingers together over the past two years, he felt a jolt of electricity shoot up and down his arm, but he'd never bothered to think about it. Now, thanks to Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan, he was very much aware of why his entire arm felt like it had been injected with liquid lightning.
"Erm, I need to – I'm just going to…do you mind if I…" Harry stammered incoherently as they reached the lobby of the cinema. Hermione raised an eyebrow, and he pointed to the restroom with a shaky hand.
"I'll be here." She smiled in understanding. That smile. That damned smile. Harry was barely able to pry his eyes away from her dazzlingly white teeth and stumble over to the men's lavatory, hoping he didn't look as flustered as he felt.
He pushed the door open and stood in front of the mirror for a moment. His cheeks were tinged pink, which made him wince internally. Had she seen his blush? Did she suspect anything? No, of course not. Right?
"Bloody hell." Harry groaned, splashing his face with some cold water and running his hands through his hair in an unsuccessful attempt to make it look nicer. "I have a crush on my best friend." He whispered.
'Obviously.' His internal voice scorned. 'I've only been trying to get you to catch on for two bloody years.'
"Shut up." Harry grumbled, before cringing as he realized he was arguing with himself. Mercifully, he was alone. He straightened after a beat, giving his head a little shake. Taking a few deep breaths, he felt his heart rate drop to below five thousand beats per minute. "I got this. Everything's normal." He told himself, barely able to meet his own eyes in the mirror. "I just happen to sort of fancy the girl I'm spending the summer with." He groaned, burying his face in his hands.
Eventually, he found it in himself to exit the restroom, walking across the tiled floor of the cinema atrium towards a familiar mane of bushy brown hair. Her back was to him as she gazed at the movie posters plastered to the wall. He stood next to her, and she gave him another heart-melting smile before turning back to the poster in front of her.
"Did you like seeing a movie in theaters?" She asked. Harry nodded awkwardly, flickering his eyes between the posters and his best friend. "I'm glad. I really liked that movie." She exhaled, still smiling.
"Are your parents coming to pick us up?" He was proud of his ability to string together a complete sentence.
"I suppose they're in the car park. Shall we?" Hermione grabbed his hand once again and began marching towards the exit.
Harry inhaled sharply at the contact but followed her out, praying that his palm wasn't sweating.
The following days weren't much easier. Dozens of times Harry was certain he was going to either have a heart attack or blurt out that he was crushing on Hermione. With each passing day he was starting to prefer the former would happen.
The day after their excursion to the movie theater, the pair found themselves reading on the couch contentedly. Harry had reluctantly shelved his copy of A Few Good Men for the afternoon and was reading something Hermione had practically begged him to try – To Kill a Mockingbird.
He was doing a good job of engrossing himself in the life of Scout Finch and trying to pick up on the underlying themes. It was Hermione's own copy, and he enjoyed reading notes she'd jotted in the margins and took notice of certain lines she had underlined. For most of the afternoon, he found himself absorbed in the pages, and thankfully, not the girl reading next to him.
Then, she scooted closer to him and leaned her head on his shoulder. Harry hitched his breath, using every ounce of willpower he had to not turn and look at Hermione. He glanced down to see her enormous tome on the history of French monarchs was still open over her lap, her fingers absent-mindedly drumming the side of her leg.
Harry felt his heart flutter – Hermione wanted to be closer to him! He barely suppressed a giddy smile and felt his unease about his feelings slightly give way to hope.
Then, he turned his eyes back to the novel in his hand, and read the next line.
"People generally see what they look for and hear what they listen for…" Harry read, and his excitement dissipated like air out of a punctured balloon. Hermione had placed her head on his shoulder several times in the past. It was like breathing for her at this point, just something she did.
'If she meant something by it, she would have said something by now, right?' He wondered to himself.
He pursed his lips sadly as he realized he was probably looking for any excuse to think Hermione would like him back. He darted his eyes to his left to see Hermione slowly turn her page and let out a serene sigh. Shaking his head at himself, he dedicated every bit of his attention back to the words of Harper Lee.
Every night that summer, Hermione had kissed him on the cheek goodnight just before they retreated into their bedrooms. It was a tradition he was rather fond of, and he grew to love it even more after his little epiphany in the cinema. The feeling of utter bliss that trickles across his face and his entire body whenever he felt her lips on his skin was unmatched, and he tried to freeze time every night, hoping to enjoy the sensation for eternity.
Then, of course, he would find himself immobilized in confusion. He was tempted beyond belief to kiss her on the cheek back – something he'd never done before. Then, he'd start wondering how she'd react, if she'd find it odd or think he wasn't feeling well. Hermione's pecks were routine by now, and he was sure they were as quotidian for her as brushing her teeth. At this point, it was probably muscle memory for her, completely thoughtless. At best, it was like the chaste peck one gives a sibling. Or worst, a mother to her child. For him to reciprocate the favor, completely out of the blue? She'd definitely be puzzled, possibly even miffed at him.
And, of course, Hermione was clever beyond words. If he started doing it now, after watching Sleepless in Seattle together, she'd be able to piece together that watching the movie had made him realize something. Her brilliant brain would probably figure it out the moment he started leaning towards her cheek. And how would she react to learning that her best friend had a crush on her?
He went through this argument in his head almost verbatim every single night, and by the time he snapped out of it Hermione had already slipped into her room, clicking her door shut. Sighing, he'd run his hands through his hair in frustration before entering his bedroom, distractedly brushing his cheek with his fingers as he collapsed into bed.
If one good thing came out of Harry's recognition of his own feelings, it was how determined he was to make himself busy. After sleeping fitfully almost every night, he was up just after dawn every single morning, eagerly preparing breakfast for the Grangers, who were usually still asleep.
More often than not, he was successful in keeping his brain occupied with whisking and frying and pouring and stirring away. But every once in a while, he'd hear footsteps pattering around upstairs and Hermione would come down with her hair looking almost as disorganized as his, a giant smile plastered on her face at the sight of him at the stove. Then, his brain would go into overdrive and he'd awkwardly sputter a greeting before turning his attention back to whatever he was preparing.
When those moments occurred, Harry would strongly consider bludgeoning himself with a frying pan to either knock some sense in his head or to give himself amnesia. He was starting to miss the blissfully ignorant days when he didn't realize that he fancied his best friend.
When he couldn't pledge his attention to doing his best Jamie Oliver impression, Harry Potter was doing his homework with a vengeance. Snape in particular seemed to be trying to make every incoming third-year's summer miserable by assigning a myriad of essays. Hermione had drafted a schedule of conquering their summer assignments on the way home on the Hogwarts Express, which the pair had been following diligently.
After Harry had become painfully aware of his crush, however, he began throwing himself at his schoolwork with a tenacity he didn't even know he was capable. One day in particular, he was sitting across from Hermione at the kitchen table and scribbling away furiously about Shrinking Solutions. He knew Hermione was watching him with curiosity as he filled his parchment and flipped around in his textbook, but refused to meet her eyes.
"Harry?" She said suddenly, and he froze in place, ink dripping from his quill onto an empty patch of paper.
"Yes?" His voice was much squeakier that he wanted it to be, but he forced his expression to remain neutral as he lifted his head.
"What's going on with you?" Her tone wasn't accusatory, or even concerned. She had the smallest of smiles on her face, and her eyebrows were raised in pleasant surprise. "I've never seen you so interested in anything related to Potions before."
"Well…" Harry trailed off uncertainly. "I just want to get this done."
"And the other three essays you've finished this afternoon? You just wanted to get those done too?"
"Look…" Harry groaned, wracking his brain for a competent excuse. "I'm not usually this motivated to do anything academic, right?"
"Right." Hermione nodded pensively.
"So, maybe it would be a good idea to not try and inhibit this?" He winced as his voice turned defensive. Hermione didn't say anything, in fact she barely reacted at all.
"You've been weird for almost two weeks now." She stated as if she were reciting a fact from a textbook. "Are you feeling alright?"
"I feel fine." He pursed his lips, feeling his quill start to slip out of his sweaty fingers. "I should be asking you if you're under the weather, considering you've barely started your essay." He smirked.
"Oh, hush." Hermione ducked her head, trying to cover her almost blank parchment with her Potions textbook. "Our study schedule doesn't even have us starting this essay until next week, you know."
"I guess a certain super-brilliant witch is rubbing off on me." He retorted, the words flowing from his mouth unthinkingly. He saw Hermione blush and felt his nervousness fade slightly.
"Well…" It was Hermione's turn to trail off. "Since you're so far ahead of me, would you mind showing me what you've written? Maybe I could take some pointers from my know-it-all friend." She smiled shyly, and Harry couldn't help but snicker.
"I suppose I could offer some wisdom, grasshopper." He felt his smile widen. Hermione rolled her eyes good-naturedly before hopping out of her chair and dragging it around the table. Harry's eyebrows shot up in surprise as she moved it so their chairs were touching before sliding back into her seat.
"You've switched steps seven and eight." She leaned over the table and plucked the quill out of his hand, jotting down a few corrections on his essay.
"I seem to remember you were the one asking for help." Harry sighed dramatically, eliciting a small giggle from Hermione. Harry felt his mood brighten exponentially at the sound, and felt his face start to heat up.
'Stop it.' He told himself.
'Don't stop. Follow your heart.' His inner voice retaliated.
'People generally see what they look for and hear what they listen for. Remember that?' His rational side offered.
'Ah, yes, take your romantic advice from a thirty year old book about racism.'
"Quiet, you." Harry groaned
"What?" Hermione turned to him, surprised more than anything. "I wasn't talking."
"S-sorry." Harry stammered, now even more nervous than before. "Just lost in thought."
"Uh-huh." Hermione tilted her head quizzically, an amused smile materializing on her face. "Well, besides a few tiny errors, your essay looks perfect. You did really well." She beamed with pride. "Do you fancy helping me write mine?"
"Do I f-fancy?" Harry spluttered before processing her entire sentence. "Oh, erm…sure." He laughed awkwardly. "Can I have my quill back?"
"Oh!" Hermione looked down to see she was still holding his eagle-feather quill. "I suppose." She smiled slyly, placing it into his outstretched hand. Harry was certain that her fingers lingered in his palm for longer than they should have, but before he could react she was back to pulling her parchment towards her, jotting down a few sentences. The pair resumed their study session, and Harry once again managed to keep his thoughts solely on homework.
"I suppose we'll be getting our Hogwarts letters soon enough." Hermione wondered out loud one day late in July. "Are you excited to go back to Diagon Alley?"
"Thrilled." Harry responded plainly, not lifting his eyes from his Transfiguration textbook.
"Harry, you've finished every assignment for Transfiguration, what are you doing?" Hermione huffed, scooting closer to him on the couch. "Are you avoiding me?" She asked playfully.
"Wha – why, why would I…I mean, what would you – " Harry stammered, darting his eyes between his best friend and his book.
"Generally when one reads more than usual they become more articulate." Hermione smiled mischievously. "You are avoiding me, aren't you?"
"I'm not avoiding you, Hermione, we're literally sitting next to each other." Harry finally found is voice.
"Well, we are sitting next to each other, but you've had your nose buried in a book while poor, lonely me has been sitting here doing nothing but stare at you for almost an hour." Hermione pouted.
"You've been staring at me?" Harry asked before he could stop himself, fidgeting in his seat.
"I want to do something, Harry. When was the last time we went to the park?" She lamented, scooting close enough to brush her shoulder with his.
"Hermione, it's been raining for three weeks straight." Harry sounded much more relaxed than he felt. It was true, and rather fortuitous for Harry, that the weather had prevented them from going on all kinds of adventures together. A week prior, Hermione had even suggested she and Harry go on a picnic in Sapphire Park, causing him to choke on his orange juice. Luckily, Hermione's father had pointed out the gloomy forecast before Harry could find an excuse.
"We don't necessarily have to go outside to do something fun." Hermione turned so she was sitting cross-legged on the couch, facing him. Her knee brushed against the side of his thigh, and Harry felt his pulse quicken as she gazed at him.
"Hermione…" He didn't like how shaky his voice was. "I'm reading. What is more fun to Hermione Granger than reading?"
"Anything that we can do together, for starters." Hermione answered rather quickly, her face brightening. "We have a few board games in the closet, but I don't think they've been touched in years, to be honest." She paused, scrunching her eyebrows together in thought. "How about a movie? I don't think we've watched a movie together since we saw Sleepless in Seattle."
'I wonder why…' Harry's inner voice taunted.
"I…I suppose we could…." Harry managed.
"Movie it is!" Hermione leapt off the couch in excitement. "I know just the one to get you out of whatever funk you've been in."
"I'm not in a funk!" Harry retorted defensively, at which Hermione just laughed.
"Look, Harry, I don't know if it's the bad weather, or if you're just bored, but you've been off for a few weeks now. It's actually been rather annoying watching you do homework all day instead of being your usual self."
"My usual self?"
"You know…" Now Hermione's voice sounded unsteady. "The Harry Potter that gets in pillow fights with me, and watches movies, and gets into it with me about what the best play of all time is – "
"A Few Good Men."
"Wrong, but I digress." Hermione held out her hand with a smirk. "Come help me look for this movie, I know my dad has it somewhere around here."
"What movie?" Harry asked, eyeing her expectant hand nervously.
"It's called Top Gun. Truth be told, I was kind of hoping you'd never see it, but desperate times." She smiled with a shrug.
"Why don't you want me to see it? Is it violent?" He asked, intrigued.
"Not really, no. It's about a bloke with dark hair and a nice smile who flies really fast and breaks a bunch of rules." She rolled her eyes. "I know this whole movie's just going to be an ego boost for the likes of you."
'Nice smile?' Harry thought to himself, feeling his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. After a beat, he was able to wrap his head around the rest of Hermione's description and grinned.
"I think I already like it too much." He let Hermione yank him to his feet, acknowledging the tingle of electricity reverberating throughout his body. "Who plays this individual who clearly wants to be just like me?"
Hermione rolled her eyes again but cracked a smile. "That's the best part. It's your crush."
"My what?" Harry's knees buckled, and Hermione burst out laughing.
"Your precious Lieutenant Kaffee, of course." She cackled at her friend's bizarre reaction. "It's Tom Cruise, your man-crush."
"I…oh." Harry dusted himself off, feeling his face heat up. "I do not have a man-crush on Tom Cruise." He grumbled, glancing at Hermione to see she was struggling to subdue her laughter.
"Oh, if only you could see your face." Hermione smirked. "You've got it bad for Tom Cruise. You're a regular teenaged girl, Harry Potter." She teasingly nudged his arm before walking over towards the stacks of VHS tapes. Harry let out a frustrated sigh, which only earned him another giggle from Hermione. After a few minutes of searching, they dug out Top Gun.
Hermione dragged Harry back over to the couch and sat down excitedly. "You really are going to love this one." She beamed in anticipation, clicking PLAY and leaning back into the couch cushions. Harry turned his eyes to the television screen and allowed himself to be captivated by the movie.
Hermione was right. Not only did Harry realize she was spot on with her description of Maverick, played by Tom Cruise, but he loved the movie. He was totally engrossed, even if it was less intellectually stimulating than most of the movie's he'd watched over the summer. He found himself leaning in his seat as Maverick flew his fighter jet around at breakneck speeds. For a moment, Harry even considered writing down some of the maneuvers used in the movie to see if they were effective on his Nimbus Two Thousand.
Two hours later, Harry sat in awe at the credits. "That was awesome." He turned to Hermione, who was rolling her eyes but couldn't hide her amusement. "Thank you, Hermione. I loved it." He gave her a grateful smile, but spotted something over her shoulder. His own arm. Fighting the urge to pull it back, however, he kept it there, and turned his attention back to Hermione.
"Don't start getting any ideas from Tom Cruise." She huffed, turning to face him. "If you start flying upside-down during a Quidditch match I'll hex you into next year."
"Hmm…I reckon I'd dodge Bludgers much easier if I could fly upside down, though." Harry began stroking his chin in mock pensiveness, earning an elbow to the ribs from Hermione.
"Don't you dare get cute with me, Harry Potter." She smirked. Harry felt his stomach turn inside-out at that, and he knew his cheeks were turning pink. "I'm serious! I don't think I can handle seeing you in a Hospital Wing bed again."
"You're one to talk." Harry snorted. Hermione averted her eyes, blushing slightly.
"Now you're really getting cute with me." Hermione giggled, her eyes never leaving her lap. "I never should have shown you this movie. It all went straight to your head, didn't it?"
"Oh, just a bit." Harry grinned mischievously. "Is it so bad if I try and be like Maverick all the time?"
"I suppose there's worse things." Hermione leaned back into the couch, her head tilting towards the ceiling. Doing so rested the back of her head against Harry's arm, sending a shiver up and down his spine. "You're already pretty similar to him." She turned, keeping her head on Harry's forearm but meeting his eyes.
"Oh yeah?" Harry didn't know where his calmness, his quasi-smugness, was coming from. "How so?"
"Well, I believe I already told you that you both tend to disregard the rules fairly often." Hermione rolled her eyes, but her complacency was obvious. "You both like flying, even if it's ridiculously dangerous. You've both got dark hair, but yours is much messier."
"Hey!"
"That's not necessarily a bad thing!" Hermione reassured him, giggling to herself. "Let's see, rule-breaking, flying, dark hair – "
"I think you said something earlier about a nice smile." Harry just kept surprising himself. Where had that one come from?
"Yours is nicer." She said automatically, and Harry's heart froze in his chest. He felt his face heat up, and he quickly averted his eyes, not registering that Hermione was blushing too.
"Th-thank you." Harry said awkwardly. His mysterious surge of suaveness seemed to have vanished. He turned back to see Hermione beaming at him. "You have a really nice smile too, you know."
"Harry!" Her blush deepened, and Harry felt his heart swell. "That's very sweet of you to say." She smiled, turning her eyes to her trembling hands.
'Tell her.' His inner voice was uncharacteristically encouraging. 'Tell her now.'
"Hermione, I – "
"We're home!" Mrs. Granger called out from the foyer, strolling in merrily with her equally cheerful husband. "Well well well, watching another movie?" She asked good-naturedly, spotting the pair on the couch and the idle television screen.
"Which one?" Mr. Granger asked, eyeing the two of them amusedly.
"Top Gun." Hermione grinned, and her father's eyes widened in delight.
"I bet Harry here loved it. Isn't it great, Harry?" He turned to the boy wizard, who had frozen the moment he'd heard Hermione's mother waltz through the front door. "Harry?" His tone shifted to one of concern. Harry knew he looked like a complete loony, with his mouth hanging open and his eyes the size of plates. But he could barely bring himself to process the conversation going on in front of him.
"Harry?" Hermione put a hand on his shoulder, and that jolted him out of his thoughts, coughing awkwardly.
"Sorry. I've…I've been feeling a bit dehydrated." He spluttered.
'Lame.' The voice in his head sighed dejectedly.
"Well, I'll start making tea. But, we wanted to ask if you were excited about a certain someone's birthday on Saturday?" Mrs. Granger asked excitedly. "You're still up for dinner at the French restaurant?"
Harry nodded, mustering what must have been a convincing smile because all three Grangers seemed satisfied. Mr. and Mrs. Granger retreated into the kitchen to make tea, leaving Harry and Hermione in the living room.
"What were you saying?" Hermione asked, tilting her head.
'Oh, just that I happen to like you. Then your parents walked in and now everything is a hundred times more awkward than it already was.'
"Just going to ask when your parents were due back." He shrugged, feeling his heart shrivel up like a raisin in the sun.
'Somehow, even more lame.'