4

He's Got Everyone Figured Out, Except You

The first week of school had passed rather uneventfully, save for Pansy's little show on Monday. Boys were still sniggering about how very pale her butt was, as it was really the only thing anyone saw. Hermione still felt bad for the Slytherin girl, but only just a little. Pansy was more than a little guilty of years of harassment, and a small part of Hermione was thrilled that the girl got a taste of her own medicine.

Harry Potter was quite an enigma to Hermione. She couldn't remember ever meeting anyone as socially retarded as that boy. He was very intelligent, that was certain. In fact, he had actually helped her on her potions and Charms essays, pointing out a few things she didn't know. He was also extremely talented with his spell work.

But when it came to people, Harry Potter was just shy of being a cretin. He had no filter from his brain to his mouth, and would just say whatever was on his mind. This had of course caused more than a few very funny situations, especially with teachers. Harry had on more than one occasion called into question methods of teaching, and in Charms had gone so far as to claim Flitwick was showing the class a terrible way to perform a spell. Flitwick, as good natured as ever had allowed Harry to expound, and in the end awarded Gryffindor fifty points and invited Harry to lunch so they could discuss the topic further.

Snape on the other hand did not appreciate Harry's help. Hermione had tried to make Harry stop talking, but it had been in vain. Harry was adamant that Snape was teaching everyone the worst possible way to cast a conjunctivitis curse. Hermione had to admit that Harry's way was faster, and surprisingly more accurate, but Snape refused to even consider that Harry might be right.

Word spread quickly throughout the school that Harry would actually stand up to Snape, and often would question his methods. When Harry was asked about it however, he would simply stare blankly at whomever was talking to him. Harry didn't see it as rising against the most hated teacher in Hogwarts History, but merely trying to help everyone learn easier, and more accurate ways of casting defensive spells.

Hermione, like many others was beginning to wonder how much more Snape would allow before challenging Harry to a duel. Most people were betting that by before Christmas, there would be a show down.

Hermione was currently pondering just who might win in such a showdown while she sat in her favorite chair in the Gryffindor common room Saturday afternoon. A book was open in her lap, her eyes were staring at the words, but her mind was back in Defense class where she had worried Snape would explode and attack Harry outright.

Hermione was also having difficulty in believing that Harry was actually her friend. She had expected that by now, he would have forgotten about her and started hanging around much prettier girls. Even more confusing was the fact that Lavender Brown, who, though she hadn't really been mean to her like her stupid ginger headed boyfriend, had also never been nice to her either, had made it a point to try and spend time with her. Her other room mate, Parvati had also been much friendlier as well. The two girls had even talked to her outside of their dorm room, where other people could see them, and they had been nice to her.

Lavender claimed that she hoped that they could one day be friends, but understood that she had to work for that. Hermione, while she hadn't said it out loud, agreed. She had suffered far too much at the hands of people within the school to just allow people to get close to her, with the exception of Harry.

Harry had barely left her side in the past week. He went to almost all of her classes with her, sat across from her at meals, and engaged her in conversation. He was acting just like a real friend to her. While it was really nice to have a real friend, a little voice in the back of her mind kept telling her not to get to close, because he was going to realize what a waste of time she was, and move on.

Yet, he remained. He stayed with her, and seemed to genuinely want to get to know her. However, she barely gave him anything when he asked about her. In fact, they only really had any kind of meaningful conversation when they were talking about neutral subjects, like classes, or anyone else besides her.

Not that Harry was very forthcoming with things in his life. Although, Hermione never really asked him much. When she did, he would answer quickly and concisely, like he was reporting to a superior officer in the military, which Hermione often had to remind herself, he was suppose to be trained to do.

"Hello?"

Someone was waving their hands in front of her face, and calling her name. Hermione had been so lost in thought that she'd failed to notice Ginny Weasley approaching her, much less talking to her.

Hermione jumped with fright, and gave a squeak of surprise, which made Ginny shriek, and clutch her heart. Both girls were panting with a bit of panic as Ginny came forward again, looking around the Common Room, and glaring at a few younger kids who were snorting with laughter.

Ginny was a pretty and popular girl. She was one of the Chasers on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and had helped secure the Cup last year, thanks to her stellar performances each match. People called her the Fireball because she seemed unstoppable on her broom. That and her flaming red hair.

Ginny was really quite attractive. She had an athletic figure. She was short, but slim. Her chest wasn't nearly as prominent as Lavender's, but she had nice curves, and Hermione guessed in another year or so, she'd likely give Lavender or Daphne Greengrass a run for their money on the Hogwarts hotness scale.

"I didn't see you there." Hermione finally stammered looking at Ginny, who still looked a bit flushed.

"I was standing here for like three minutes trying to get your attention." Ginny replied, sounding a bit snotty.

"Sorry." Hermione blanched. "Why aren't you at practice?"

It had been widely talked about through the week, that Saturday would be try outs and the first practice for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Ron Weasley had been talking quite loudly about only the night before.

"It's over." Ginny shrugged. "Katie's going to be a great Captain this year. We very nearly got a new Keeper. That git McClaggen, you know the seventh year who's nearly as full of himself as Malfoy. He beat Ron at tryouts, but then he told Katie that she had a lot to learn about being a captain, and then tried to make a move on her. He was tripping over his own nose hair on his way to see Madam Pomfrey when I last saw him. Good thing too, I think Ron would be insufferable if he had been kicked off the team."

"Well, that's nice I suppose. Did you want something from me?" Hermione asked impatiently. "You've barely spoken to me in four years, so forgive me for my curiosity."

"I wanted to ask you about Harry." Ginny said rather nervously. Hermione, having fielded enough questions about Harry over the past week, merely gave an exasperated sigh. It was as if she was supposed to be some sort of expert on Harry Potter, simply because she spent time with him.

"I was wondering what he's like?" Ginny asked, invading Hermione's space and perching on the arm of the chair. Hermione scowled at the red head, who was oblivious to Hermione's irritation.

"You do know you can talk to him. If you're that curious, just ask him yourself." Hermione said as politely as she could manage. She tried to let Ginny know she wasn't interested in talking, by refocusing on her book.

"What, just sit down next to him and talk to him? I don't think so." Ginny said, shaking her head her cheeks going red, and her eyes wide in horror, as if Hermione had just suggested she remove all her clothes in the common room right then and there. "I wouldn't even know what to say to him.

"You could try hello." Hermione scowled, trying to continue reading her book.

"Could you introduce me?" Ginny asked hopefully.

Hermione looked up and glowered at the younger Weasley. Ginny did have the good sense to blush.

"Let me see if I understand this." Hermione said, having difficulty in keeping herself calm. "You want me to introduce you to Harry, because he and I sit together at meals? You… the same person who only last year claimed that possibly the only way I would ever find some sort of sexual satisfaction was to go and throw myself at the centaur herd in the forest?"

"That's not exactly what I said." Ginny mumbled, looking rather morose.

"Exactly why would I help you try and impress anyone?" Hermione asked.

Ginny shrugged. "Because you're a nice person?" She tried a charming smile.

"And how would you know even that? You've never once tried to talk to me on any sort of human level, much less a friendly one." Hermione replied evenly. Ginny shrugged again. Hermione shook her head and closed her book.

"If you want to get to know Harry , talk to him yourself. I'm not his press agent, or his mother. And even if I were inclined to help you try and get into his trousers, which I assure I have no interest in doing at all, I have no idea where he is at the moment. It's not my job to keep tabs on him and know where he is at all hours."

"He's down at the Quidditch pitch." Ginny smiled brightly. "Katie talked him in to coming down and watching the tryouts. She even got him to try out for the team. He was amazing." Ginny gushed.

"He's going to play Quidditch?" Hermione asked in puzzlement suddenly forgetting her ire at the youngest of the Weasley clan.

"No." Ginny said with a shake of her head. "He turned Katie down. Said he had no real interest in it. He just likes flying. It's a shame too, because he's amazing."

Hermione looked interested in what Ginny had said, but brushed it aside quickly.

"So why didn't you talk to Harry then?" She asked the redhead.

"I figured it would be easier if we were introduced. It would give me a chance to make a really good impression, you know?" Ginny asked, looking pointedly at Hermione who shook her head again.

"I think it would take a lot more than being introduced to make any kind of impression on him." Hermione said cryptically, finally having enough of the conversation. She got to her feet and headed up to her dorm where she was sure she would have a bit of piece. She got around five minutes of quiet before Lavender walked in.

"I don't think Ginny's going to let up." The blonde smiled as she sat on her bed facing Hermione. "She really wants to go out with Harry."

"What are you talking about?" Hermione rolled her eyes.

"She's crushing bad on Harry. Ron told me last night that she's had a crush on him forever. Her dad used to make up stories about the Hero Harry Potter."

"Why would anyone do that?" Hermione scowled. "Until a month ago, none of us even thought he was alive, remember?"

"I know, I know. But imagine that you have this fictional character that is amazing. He's a hero, right? People constantly put him in fairy tales, and the like, and you grow up hearing these tales of bravery and all that. You fall in love with this hero, knowing that he's made up. But then one day… and he's real, and what's more, he's everything you ever dreamed of and so much more. Can you honestly say you wouldn't feel even a bit intrigued at the notion of getting close to that hero?" Lavender gave a conspiratorial smile.

Hermione sat up with a quizzical expression.

"And she isn't the only one feeling the same way. A lot of us grew up hearing the stories of the baby who vanquished the most vile wizard in an age. Some of us used to have tea parties where the guest of honor was our perception of what Harry would be like. I even had a pretend wedding where my groom was none other than Harry Potter. Ok, my teddy bear stood in for Harry, but you get the picture."

"That's an interesting idea, and it would explain a lot." Hermione said thoughtfully. "I've never seen Parkinson act the way she did around any boy, save maybe Malfoy. In fact, a lot of girls have been acting somewhat out of character since he arrived."

"Yeah, well Parkinson's in for a rude awakening. Malfoy's hot for Daphne Greengrass. I heard he's even convinced his father to set up negotiations with her father."

"What?" Hermione looked appalled.

"It's still customary in some of the older pure blood families to set up arranged marriages. At least it's not done before birth any more. Most of the time, the boys will select someone and get their family to set it up."

"So barbaric." Hermione made a sour face. "Why doesn't he just club her over the head and drag her back to his cave."

"I know." Lavender nodded. "But stuff like that won't last much longer."

Hermione looked up curiously as Lavender pulled her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. She was smiling at Hermione now, and Hermione couldn't remember anyone looking at her this way. Like a trusted friend. Someone treasured.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, just that Parvati and I were talking and Colin Creevey overheard us, and then some other people got involved, and we all kind of had this really deep political discussion, and we came to several realizations. The first being that it won't be too much longer that the Pure Blood families will be all but gone. They're so intent on their purity that they're breeding themselves out of existence. Katie Bell said that you can actually track their decline in magical power. Of course you get anomalies. Malfoy is pretty powerful, as his father is, but they said Malfoy's grandfather wasn't very strong and relied more on his wealth than his magic to succeed. So unless the Purebloods get over themselves and accept Muggleborns and marry them, their going to be less than squibs in maybe a century."

Hermione nodded. She understood this, she had done some genealogy research in her second year in an attempt to understand why Purebloods were held in such high regard. She had discussed her findings with Professor McGonagall a year later when they had begun socializing. McGonagall was under the same impression, that one day, the old families would be gone, unless they allowed themselves to infuse their bloodlines with new magic, or muggleborn.

"Number two, the growing number of witches and wizards who are muggleborn and staying in our world after they leave school is growing, and these people aren't satisfied with menial work anymore. Some of them are getting pretty far into the Ministry, and soon, they'll be helping write new laws. Not only that, but the muggle world is becoming much more advanced and appealing to those of us raised completely in the magical world. Movies, music…shopping. Oh my god the clothes and the shoes are to die for. And here we are wearing boots and tights and robes…ugh. When you got a body like this, why hide it under bulky robes?" Lavender said standing up and spinning, showing off her tight skirt and her prominent chest which was clad in a royal purple blouse.

Hermione offered a weak smile at Lavender's enthusiasm.

"I got some amazing stuff when I was in London with Parvati last summer. If my Mum knew about half the knickers I have, she'd skin me. I don't even wear tights anymore."

Lavender pulled up her skirt a bit to reveal that she was wearing nylons with a garter belt. She blushed deeply as Hermione covered her mouth scandalized.

"I know!" Lavender shrieked. "Ron doesn't even know about it. If he did, well, I'd have to use a Beater's bat to keep him back."

"Wait, don't you…I mean, haven't you two…" Hermione asked, her hand sill hovering over her mouth.

"Yeah, I know, everyone thinks I'm some sort of slag, right? I'm not saying I'm an angel by any stretch, but my reputation is very, very overblown. And Ron… Ron could only wish to be so lucky to be able to touch me like that."

"Wait…Don't you like Ron?"

"Of course I like Ron. I wouldn't be dating him otherwise, but he's got some serious issues he needs to work out. He has it in him to be a good guy. He's just got an inferiority complex, among other problems. He feels like he's got to be the most popular guy in the room at any given moment. It's why he's so loud and funny. It's his way of standing out. Not the best way, but it's all he knows. Do I love him? Absolutely not. Could I? Maybe one day. If he grows up, and alters his thinking a bit." Lavender shrugged. "For now, he makes me laugh, and he's not that bad a kisser."

Hermione made a sour face and Lavender laughed.

"I know, you don't need to hear the disgusting details." she laughed. "Don't worry, I'm not going to tell you all about how Ron and I snog. But, the thing is, I don't know if a relationship based on good snogging is all I want anymore. I'm not sure that Ron and I will be together by Christmas anymore."

"Why do you think that?' Hermione asked, wondering how things had come to this. Where Lavender Brown, possibly the most popular girl in her grade, much less the whole school, was talking about her relationship with the school pariah.

"Harry." Lavender said simply.

"Not you too." Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes.

"No, it's not like that. Sure, I mean he's attractive, what with his broad shoulders and those muscular arms, and those eyes like emeralds that you could swim in. Yes, he's attractive, but he's stiff, and tense. And when he looks at you, it's not the way a girl wants to be looked at. Harry doesn't look at you like he wants to grab you in his arms and kiss you until you can't stand. He looks at you like he's studying you, looking for weaknesses. He looks at every girl like that… except you."

Hermione looked up now with wide eyes. Her face paled as she stared at her dorm mate who was smiling mischievously. Hermione wasn't sure if she liked where the conversation was going now. She remembered how she had felt when Viktor Krum had acted like he had liked her romantically, only to metaphorically rip her heart out and stomp on it in front of the entire school.

"What are you talking about?" She asked the blonde who playfully looked around them as if she knew some great big secret. Hermione began growing impatient and scowled at Lavender who laughed lightly.

"Ok, When Harry looks at me, he actually looks in my eyes. Most boys focus on my chest first, then my legs and whatever else before finally realizing I have eyes. But Harry looks at my eyes first, and it isn't to flirt or anything. It's like he's looking into my mind, to find how to defeat me in a duel. Parvati says it's the same with her. Any girl he looks at… any one he looks at, he's studying them. Figuring out where their strengths are, and where their weaknesses are. Understand?"

Hermione nodded. She knew Lavender was totally correct in that it was likely what Harry was doing. He did it with everyone, and he had even shared some of his observations with her. She felt she was better prepared should Draco Malfoy try have a go at her ever again. Thanks to Harry, she knew that Draco was all about showmanship, and was likely going to cast big spells to make a show. A few simple spells would defeat him soundly, and also likely to embarrass him badly.

"But when Harry looks at you, it's something else entirely. You have him puzzled." Lavender smiled. Hermione shook her head.

"You're imagining things." She said simply. "Harry has me figured out just like everyone else."

"How to fight you, yes, I'm sure he does. But that's not what I'm talking about. You aren't falling all over yourself to get him to notice you, so he notices you because of that. The same way Krum did in Fourth year." Lavender pointed out. "It also doesn't hurt that you've changed. Boys are noticing your boobs are bigger. Some people are saying you used and engorgement charm on them."

"I did not!" Hermione looked indignant.

"I know." Lavender said, holding up her hands. "You're a good with your wand and all, but there would be signs, and no charm is permanent. You'd have to have recast at some point. Frankly I'm a bit jealous. You had time to grow into yours and get used to them. I got mine like over night it seemed." Lavender rolled her eyes. "Makes it hard to get a boy to notice you for you when all he can do is stare at your chest. You'll see."

Hermione grimaced but said nothing. She was still pondering Lavender's remarks about Harry and how he looked at her. Was it even possible that he looked at her differently than he looked at other girls.

"Well, you're wrong about Harry." Hermione shook her head.

"Maybe I am." Lavender shrugged. "I'm no expert in boys or anything."

Hermione began chewing on her bottom lip, something she did whenever she was working on a particularly vexing problem. Lavender smiled again and patted Hermione's knee before she headed back to the Common room, leaving Hermione to ponder what they had discussed. Hermione noted she was alone once again, but she couldn't bring herself to look at her book anymore. All she could think about now was Harry and the way he looked at her. Lavender seemed convinced that there might be something there to pay attention to, but Hermione was sure the blonde was imagining things.

Harry was not at all confused by Hermione. It was likely he had her just as figured out as anyone else.

"I understand it, but I don't get it." Harry said placing his knife and fork down, having finished his dinner.

"Maybe it's because there are no other sports in the magical world." Hermione shrugged. "Muggles have so many athletic competitions but wizards only have Quidditch. It unites them."

"You watched the tryouts, how can you not get excited over it?" Neville Longbottom asked. Hermione smirked softly.

Neville was one of the few people who had never once been mean to her. He had made the mistake of standing up for her once, and had paid for it. That had been in their first year, and he had never repeated that mistake. She had often seen her giving her apologetic looks whenever others had decided to have a go at her, but he always remained silent.

In fourth Year, Neville did attempt to ask her to the Yule Ball, but by then she had already had a date, and had to decline. They had spoken a bit, and Hermione had hoped she might become friends with someone, But Ron Weasley had berated him into ignoring her once again. They had not spoken a single word to each other since.

Two days ago, Hermione had come to the Common room to wait for Harry so they could go to breakfast together. Harry arrived at Gryffindor Tower after his morning workout, and she had been shocked to see he was not alone. Neville, looking very exhausted and sweaty was with him.

Apparently when Harry awoke, he discovered Neville awake as well. Neville explained he'd been unable to sleep, and Harry had invited him to join him on his work out. Harry admitted to Hermione that he found Neville companionable.

"Or he will be when he gets up to scratch." Harry had said, glancing at Neville as they had headed to the Great Hall that morning. Since then. Neville had been joining them at meal times, and studying with them every so often. Hermione had been a bit surprised to see that Neville was quite hard working. Hermione had known Neville was intelligent, but he had difficulty during classes. He seemed to struggle more than others when it came to practical work though she couldn't figure out why, though she felt it had a bit to do with Ron Weasley who Neville admitted like to pick on anyone who wanted to focus on their schoolwork, when their was chess to be played, or brooms to fly.

"Why have you never tried out to play?" Harry asked Neville. The boy's shoulders sagged a bit and he shook his head.

"My Gran would never allow me to. It's expensive, to start with. A decent broom, even the most basic decent broom is around two hundred and fifty galleons. Then there's the pads and other equipment. Plus, I'm not all that great on a broom. Our first flying lesson, I fell off and broke my wrist."

"I remember that." Hermione nodded. "Draco smashed your Rememberall."

Neville's face soured. "And Ron kept calling me Leadbottom."

"I bet I could get you flying like a pro in a few weeks." Harry said.

"I wouldn't think flying would be that important to a soldi…a person like you." Hermione stammered, her cheeks flushing.

"I think you'd be surprised how often soldiers use brooms for attack." Harry said matter-of-factly. "They're great for the element of surprise. Especially if you're willing to jump off of one."

"Jump off of a broom?" Neville and Hermione asked as one. Hermione's face had gone slightly pale. "Are you mental?"

"No, just really good with arresto momentum." Harry said flatly. Neville and Hermione only stared aghast at what the newest Hogwarts student claimed.

"When I was twelve, I was given a sort of test. Basically it was a drill to see how well I could adapt. The first ten times, I got beat pretty bad, and when you fail, you have to do very tedious and boring things as punishment. Anyway, while I was peeling my five hundredth potato by hand, I started thinking about tactics. The only way I could beat win that particular scenario was with something so out of the ordinary that the enemy would be to stunned to react. So, the next time I had to do that exercise, I summoned a broom, and took to the air. The people I was going against, My enemies, for lack of a better word, were busy looking in the woods for me, not thinking I might have taken to the sky. I waited up there, not directly above, mind you, but close enough I could see their movements. When they started getting concerned as I hadn't attacked, and they hadn't spotted me, they let their guard down, and began gathering together to discuss what might have become of me, and that's when I struck. I turned my broom towards them, and when I was directly over them, I leapt, cast the charm, and stunned each one of my godfather's team before I hit the ground." Harry said as if making a report.

"Didn't you get hurt?" Hermione asked, still in shock over what she'd just been told.

"A broken leg and three fingers, plus a concussion. They gave me two weeks dishwashing duty for taking such a stupid risk. In the end, they all admitted it was a good tactic. My trainer made me work harder on my charm work so the next time I decided to try something so reckless, I wouldn't get hurt." Harry replied, finishing his dinner and pushing the plate away.

Neville and Hermione had no words at this. Hermione began to wonder what Harry might try and pull in order to win a Quidditch match, and thanked the fates that he had chosen not to join the team.