Charming

Chapter Three: Afternoon Repose

Harry regretted those words he spoke earlier. Moving Hermione’s things had completely worn him out. She hadn’t been especially evil in giving him things to carry nor did she have too much stuff to move. The heaviest thing she had was Crookshanks (who he supposed technically should not be called a thing . . . at least not in Hermione’s presence unless he wanted to risk being hexed) and she carried her pet back to the flat by herself. Perhaps it was simply that moving, in and of itself, was a tiring activity, no matter how few boxes one brought over. That has to be it, Harry thought, as there is no other explanation for me being this tired. That I can think of, at any rate.

And there was still the problem of where Hermione was going to put all her things. When Harry had pointed that out, Hermione had declared that she could keep everything in their boxes for now. After all, she had said, it wasn’t as if she had brought everything she owned with her, but only a few books and clothes to get along. Harry at frowned at that idea and had immediately countered with an offer to let his closet space. After all, he had said, it wasn’t as if he was a clotheshorse and couldn’t spare the extra space. She had bit her lip and frowned and responded that it would be really inconvenient. He had rolled his eyes and asked if anything could be more inconvenient than living out of boxes.

Hang all that about not knowing why I’m so tired, he realized. It’s not the moving, it’s the arguing with Hermione where everything should go. In the end, she had won and Harry wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that. It wasn’t the best solution but it would work fine for a short amount of time . . . which implied that Hermione wouldn’t be staying with him forever and Harry wasn’t sure how he felt about that either. It was comfortable, having her here and knowing that if he ever needed someone to talk to that she would be there. He knew that even if she moved out, that he would always be welcome to drop by her place with whatever problem he might have . . . but that wouldn’t be the same. Harry sighed. He had probably grown too used to having his friends living with him while he was at Hogwarts. Most people would say that living with Hermione was different, he supposed, because she was a witch but to him, that was no real difference. They were friends and the fact that they were of the opposite sex didn’t mean a damn thing. Or shouldn’t rather. Harry groaned at the thought of how Sirius would react to the news. His godfather would certainly arrive at the wrong conclusions.

“Harry, are you all right?” Hermione asked from the kitchen.

“I’m fine. It’s been a long day, that’s all,” he replied.

“Yeah, I know. Sorry about that.” Hermione strolled back into the living room, carefully balancing two cups of tea. “Hopefully this will help us relax.”

“Thanks,” he said as she handed him his cup. “I wouldn’t have thought that I’d be this tired but I am.”

“I have to agree with you there,” Hermione said. “I think it’s official. I hate moving.”

“I’ll second that one. And I think I’m getting more sore by sitting around here.” Harry stood up gingerly and started to pace the room. “Do you want to go some place? Maybe out to dinner?”

Hermione looked at him in askance. “My parents did invite us to stay over for dinner, remember? I thought you were too tired to—”

“Too tired to eat? Never! I was just afraid that if we’d stayed there, you’d find more stuff to bring over,” Harry teased.

Hermione crossed her arms and pretended to pout. “Just for that, I ought to remember that something that I forgot to bring over and make you go get it,” she threatened. “That would serve you right.”

“Except that I’m so tired I’d splinch myself. You wouldn’t want that to happen, now would you?”

“No, I wouldn’t. But if you’re that tired, how do you intend to go out to dinner?”

“Walk of course,” Harry said, spreading his hands out. “Well, I would suggest flying but something tells me that—”

“No, no, no, and in case you didn’t hear it the first three times, no. Haven’t I ever told you how much I detest flying?”

“Yes you have and I don’t understand it . . . but I guess even Hermione Granger has to have flaws.”

“And my flaw is my abhorrence of flying?” she asked wryly.

“That’s one of them . . . and the main one if you ask me,” he said with a large grin. “Don’t worry though. I’m your friend so I like you in spite of that.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. So what do you think about dinner?”

“Honestly? I think I’m too tired to even walk to out some place to eat. Not unless it’s really close.”

“Then should we—”

“Order out, please. If you know of any good places,” Hermione said and then stopped to think. “Wait a minute, what am I saying? You’re a wizard, of course you should have found at least one good place by now, what with you not liking to cook and all.”

“I wasn’t the one who almost burned down the place last night,” Harry retorted.

“Technically, you were in the kitchen supervising me, so the blame can be contributed to you,” she shot back.

“Yeah, yeah, but I thought you knew your way around a kitchen since you cooked breakfast yesterday.”

“That was different,” she said. “It was simple. I can manage simple dishes but once the recipe starts to get complicated . . .”

“I hardly think spaghetti counts as a complicated recipe, Hermione.”

“Well, it is for me,” she retorted. “And arguing about who’s at fault isn’t getting us anywhere . . . and I thought you were hungry? Not that I’m surprised. You must be needing ten meals a day, being a growing boy and all.” Hermione outright smirked at him as she completed that sentence.

Harry stopped in his pacing and drew himself up, with a quick retort on the tip of his tongue, begging to be used. Yet before he could open his mouth, his stomach growled and he thought the better of it. As much as he was enjoying himself, he was hungry, and he was never going to get to eat unless he let Hermione win. Besides, he thought, she’s cute when she thinks she’s winning. Especially with that way she wrinkles her nose when she thinks she has the upper hand. Though you’d never convince her of that. It was clear to anyone who knew Hermione well that she didn’t think much of her looks and she thought she was plain. Ron had once remarked to him that perhaps Hermione was so obsessive about her marks because she felt she had to compensate for not being pretty. Harry didn’t know if that was true or not, but he knew Hermione was wrong about her not being attractive. Of course, he never said as much, as that would surely get taken the wrong way even though it was only natural for wizards to notice a pretty witch. Just because he thought Hermione was pretty didn’t mean that he thought of her as anything other than a good friend . . . though calling Hermione just a good friend wasn’t being entirely honest. Not because she wasn’t but more because that phrase got bandied about these days without having any real meaning to it. Hermione and Ron were his best friends . . . and that meant a lot more than it sounded like. Harry didn’t know how he would have survived the past few years without them . . . and he didn’t think he could live with himself if he ever did anything to lose their friendship.

“So Harry? About dinner? Or are you not hungry?” Hermione’s voice roused him out of his thoughts.

“Dinner? Oh yeah, that’s right, dinner. Feel like anything in particular?”

“Whatever you like is fine. I’m not a picky eater,” Hermione told him.

“That certainly leaves us with a lot of options,” said Harry. “Let me go get the menus and we can go from there.” Harry walked towards the kitchen and with only a moment’s pause, Hermione followed him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Okay, so let me get your story straight,” Ron said. “Tell me again just why you moved in with Harry.”

Hermione huffed and set down her copy of the Daily Prophet. In addition to her job hunt not going well, she got to deal with Ron at the same time. The Trio had made plans to meet up for dinner later tonight, but Ron had decided to come over early to talk to Hermione . . . though privately she thought he had other reasons for visiting her. “Like I told you before, I thought Harry might be a bit lonely . . . but he’d never admit it, you know that, so I thought I’d stay here with him for a bit.”

“Something’s telling me that you’re hiding something.”

“Not my fault if you’re paranoid. And I have ever lied?”

Ron rolled his eyes. “Let’s see . . . there’s that time first year that I seem to recall you lying to McGonagall . . . second year, I could have sworn you encouraged us to lie and steal some potion supplies . . . and you know what? I think you lied to us just about the entire year come third year . . . shall I go on?”

“I fail to see what your point is here.”

“My point, Hermione, is that I’m not stupid. I know you’re hiding something . . . and it has to do with your sudden decision to impose on Harry like this. Are you in some sort of trouble, Hermione? I asked Harry, but he said that you said that you’re not but I think he’s having a hard time believing that . . . I’m having a hard time believing that.”

Hermione leaned back in her chair. “Okay, everything’s not perfect with me –like I have yet to find a job – but it’s not as if I’m facing any major problems.”

“Then why move in with Harry?”

“Because it’d be easier to—”

“Bullshit Hermione,” Ron said, rising from his seat. “You know that and so do I. You’re a lousy liar so why don’t you stop and tell me the truth. You can trust me. You know that. We’ve been friends for how long now? So, the truth now Hermione – why did you—”

“Because he needs me,” Hermione blurted out. “He really does. I know it.”

“That doesn’t make any sense, Hermione. How can you know that? It’s not like there’s some charm to magically tell you who Harry needs . . . unless . . .” Ron’s voice trailed off as he thought of what Hermione’s motives could have been. “You’re not thinking clearly, are you?”

“I am thinking clearly, I can assure you on that much at least—”

“You’re in love with him aren’t you? That’s why you’ve been acting so strange!” Ron exclaimed, comprehension dawning on his face. “You must have it really bad Hermione, we’ve just left Hogwarts and already you can’t live with him.”

“I’m not in love with Harry,” Hermione insisted.

“No need to hide your feelings about him any more. I suppose I should have figured this all out before. You always talk about him . . .”

“I’m not in love with Harry. Get it through that thick skull of yours, Ron. Besides, I’ve talked about Harry before, when we were in Hogwarts helping him out with everything he had to face, and you didn’t say anything then. So the fact that I talk about him occasionally now doesn’t mean a thing.”

“Occasionally! Hermione, you’ve only talked about him this evening . . . and maybe you always talked about him incessantly before because you’ve been in love with him for a long time . . .”

“Oh for heaven’s sake! I’m not in love with Harry! How many times do I have to repeat myself before you finally get that?”

“Don’t bother repeating yourself, I’m not going to believe it anyway.”

“Thanks.” Hermione folded her arms across her chest.

“Don’t mention it. But might I say that I’m feeling incredibly stupid right now? How could I’ve not seen this before? After all, they say a man and a woman can’t just be friends.”

“That’s nonsense!”

“Is it?” Ron leaned towards Hermione, with a sparkle in his eyes. “I don’t know about that. You and I couldn’t just be friends.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “I hardly think that going to Hogsmeade together twice before deciding that we’re mutually incompatible counts as dating, Ron.”

“That’s not the point and you know it. The point is that we couldn’t just stay friends. We had to give it a shot, even though we didn’t have much of a chance of making it as a couple in retrospect. And so, of course you fell in love with Harry along the way . . . the way you moved in with him as soon as you could to stake your claim goes to—”

“It was a charm! Okay, I used a charm to tell me that Harry needs me!” Hermione confessed, wanting Ron to shut up about her loving Harry before Harry came home to overhear their conversation about it.

Ron raised his eyebrows. “Just how did you manage to use such a charm without Harry knowing?”

“I didn’t need to ask him. It’s . . . it’s a charm to tell you where you’re needed to most and I used it and it sent me here . . . and that’s how I know that Harry needs me. Otherwise, it would’ve taken me someplace else.”

“Not to cast doubt on your ability as a witch, Hermione, but I’ve a hard time believing that such a charm is possible,” Ron said.

“But it is! I researched it while we were at Hogwarts and . . .”

“Then why not use it then?”

“Wasn’t sure how it would react with the anti-Apparition wards there . . . and I didn’t want to be the first to find out.”

“That makes sense, at least.” Ron sighed. “And are you sure that you got the charm right? That it would take you to the place, to the person that needs you the most? As that sounds more like a fairy tale, rather than real life. I think it’s more likely that it took you to the person that you needed the most.”

“I know you said not to bother repeating it, but I can’t just help myself. I am not in love—”

“Hello Ron, Hermione!” Harry called as he entered the room. “And Hermione’s not in love? Since when is that news? A veritable ice princess, our Hermione is.”

“Oh, she’s in love. She’s better than concealing it than you and me though. She’s been in love for quite some time and it’s starting to show through.”

“She is? Who’s the lucky wizard? And how do you know it? She’s not been acting any differently lately.”

“There are none so blind as those who do not wish to see. And as for the lucky wizard . . . why he’s right—”

Hermione sharply stomped on Ron’s foot.

“Ow!” Ron cursed fluently as he limped towards the sofa. “Why did you do that for?”

“You know why . . . how could you go and say something like that to Harry?” Hermione glared at Ron.

“I don’t hear you denying that he’s right, Hermione,” Harry noted and she leveled her glare at him.

“Oh honestly! Simply because I don’t mention that he’s out and out lying about the whole matter – which I think should be blazingly obvious – that doesn’t mean that he’s telling the truth. Besides, I’ve been living with you and you’ve not noticed anything different.”

“Only for a few days. And Ron might have some special insight into how you act when you’re in love since you two once dated.”

Hermione covered her face with her hands. “I don’t know about you two, but where I come from, agreeing to go to Hogsmeade together twice does not count as dating. And as for the Ron seeing how I’m like when I’m in love . . .trust me, I was never in love with Ron.”

“No, you weren’t,” Ron said softly. “Not romantically at least. Probably because you had this other bloke on your mind . . . not enough room in your heart to love him and me.”

“Ron. It wasn’t like that.” Hermione sighed. “And I thought that you—”

“So who is this other man, Hermione?” Harry asked. “I know he can’t hold a candle to Ron, whoever he is . . . and so why not give Ron another chance?”

Hermione blinked. This was all moving far too quickly for her. First Ron accused her of fancying Harry . . . and now Harry was trying to set the two of them up with one another. So this what happens when you have boys as your best friends instead of girls. Rather than trying to set you up with random blokes, they’re busy trying to foist you off onto the other. And all because someone once said that that a witch can’t be only friends with a wizard . . . which I supposed given the fact that I did have a couple dates with Ron and I’m sort of infatuated with Harry right now, that does have a grain of truth in it . . . though that’s not the point. Hermione sighed. And men always say that women are hard to understand! At least, we’re not complete idiots who never, ever knowing what we want?

“She’s not responding,” Harry remarked to Ron as Hermione argued with herself.

“I think she’s not happy with you.”

“Why?”

“You know the way you rather blatantly tried to wash your hands of her and foist her off on to me? Not good that.”

“I wasn’t trying to foist her off on to anyone. I like Hermione and I like spending time with her. But I do think that you’d be a better match than whoever she’s fancying at the moment . . . you’ve known her longer and you’ve been through so much together—”

“Oh, this other wizard knows her just as well as I do. You’ll just have to trust me on that one.”

“If you say so,” Harry said, his tone clearly conveying the fact that he didn’t think Ron was right. “But I couldn’t help it . . . Hermione’s mooning over someone she can’t have – well, according to you at least as I’ve not seen it – and you’re not over her yet and—”

“I am over her!”

“But you sounded so sad when you talked about her never loving you!”

“No, I didn’t! What makes you think that?”

“You were speaking very quietly, Ron. Considering that you’re usually boisterous . . . that really means something.”

“Just because I said something in a quiet tone of voice, that doesn’t mean I’m sad!” Ron responded.

“But it’s not like you to be so quiet. Why not own up to your own feelings?”

”All right, Lavender, Parvati. How did you manage to brew Polyjuice all by yourself and where did you stash Harry and Ron’s bodies?” Hermione snapped when she realized what Harry and Ron were talking about.

“She’s back,” Ron said to Harry.

“You thought I didn’t notice that?”

“Never can tell with you. You’re not too good at noticing things that are under your nose, Harry. Your track record is abysmal there.”

“And you’re not too good at figuring out that I don’t like being talked about as if I’m not here.” Hermione glared at the both of them. “Since Ron has managed to confuse everyone in the short time he was here . . . I’m not in love with anyone, and Ron’s not in love with me and he hasn’t been. As for Harry, that’s anyone’s guess.”

“Oh he’s—”

“Do not even start to go down that road, Ron.” The expression on Harry's face was enough to stop Ron from continuing along those lines.

“If the two of you have had enough gossiping about my non-existent love life, I would like to go out for dinner some time this evening. Or should I let you two chatter while I get myself something to eat?” Hermione figured that the mere mention of food in front of her best friends would get them off that embarrassing topic.

“No, no, we can talk and eat at the same time.” Ron hurried to pull on his coat.

“Amazing.” Hermione applauded sarcastically.

“Be nice,” Ron said. “Or at least try and make an effort towards being nice if you can’t manage that.”

“Yeah,” Harry piped in. “You used to be such a sweet girl. What happened?”

“Started running with the wrong crowd. Believe you me, the blokes that I’m friends with are much, much worse than I.”

Ron rolled his eyes. “We’ve been a bad influence on you,” he said. “So where to for dinner?”

“Erm . . . anywhere’s fine with me,” Harry said. “Where do you two want to go?”

“I don’t care, so long as the food is fast as I’m getting hungry.” Ron looked at Hermione. “Have anything in mind?”

“Mind going to a Muggle restaurant for once?” Hermione narrowed her eyes at her best friends. “Though I’m not sure if I can trust you there.”

“I don’t see why not. I know how to behave myself in public.” Ron looked down at Hermione with an innocence she didn’t find credible.

“Oh, it’ll be fine, Hermione. We know how to behave. And if Ron acts strangely in a Muggle restaurant, we can always let him know subtly by mashing his toes or something.” Harry looked at Hermione, his brilliant green eyes boring into hers. “Trust me on this one, okay?”

“Okay,” she sighed. It was so easy to trust him when he looked like that. She knew that he wouldn’t let anything hurt her, that he’d do everything he could to help her out.

The only problem was that she knew that he’d do the same for any friend of his. She was very happy to be his friend, certainly her life would have been so much different – and poorer – if she never met him, but sometimes she wished that she looked better or that she had a better personality, or anything really that could make him notice her as a woman. At the same time, she hated herself for feeling so inferior because of a wizard; she felt as if she should be above worrying about how to catch a man’s attention and wishing that she was prettier.

“Hermione are you all right?” Ron waved his hand in front of her face. “You’ve been staring off into space for several minutes.”

Hermione flushed, silently grateful to Ron not calling attention to his suspicion about how she felt towards Harry. “That’s because I was thinking of where we could go eat,” she quickly lobbed back. “Because you two are just tops at deciding where to eat.”

“I told you I don’t care so long as it’s quick,” Ron said. “I’ve my priorities straight in life.”

“Then I’m sure you’ll find Japanese to be acceptable. There’s this one place that I—”

“I refuse to eat raw fish.” Ron crossed his arms. “I put my foot down when it comes to eating slimy stuff like that.”

“Fine, there’re other things there.” Hermione grinned evilly. “Though I suppose if we ply you with enough beer, we could get you to eat something like raw squid.”

Ron looked pleadingly at Harry. “You’ll watch out for me, right? You’ll make sure that the evil witch won’t slip me anything like that?”

Harry shook his head. “Only if you do the same for me.”

“But that would mean not drinking . . .”

“Exactly.”

“Shall we get going?” Hermione asked, pulling on her coat and getting her purse. “It’ll be—”

“My treat,” Harry quickly said. He continued before Hermione could protest. “You two can argue about who’ll pay the next time we get together, okay?”

“Sounds good to me,” Ron said while Hermione nodded her head. “So if that’s all settled, let’s get going.”