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Dance with the One that Brought You	By : KatDiva Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 43176 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Disclaimer: It all belongs to someone else, not me... yada yada.

A/N: Ever wonder what Hermione and Harry talked about during that nice long walk around the lake in Chapter 18 of GOF? This is my version.

Chapter 5: Dirty Harry

Jumping at the instant popping sound that came from behind him, Harry quickly turned to find Dobby had apparated into his room.

“Good morning, Harry Potter!” the excited house elf greeted.

“Good morning, Dobby. You’re up and about quite early. I thought you’d be in the kitchen galley helping Winky this morning.”

“Yes well, that’s why Dobby is here. Please, Harry Potter must come now!” The elf fidgeted with his hands, and tugged on his white linen apron.

“What’s the matter, Dobby? What’s happened?”

“It’s Master Harry’s friend and Miss Winky sir.”

“Winky? What’s happened to Winky? What friend?”

“Please come, Master Harry. Dobby is trying to prepare breakfast for all the students, and Master’s Harry’s friend is ...” Dobby paused, looking for the right word. “...Well, she is helping.”

“Who’s helping, Dobby? And what does this have to do with Winky?”

“No, Harry Potter does not understand. She is helping... the way that Dobby tried to help save Harry Potter’s life.”

Harry was confused. The small creature made no sense this morning, and it was too early for riddles. He met the large, rounded eyes and inquired again, “Dobby, what’s happened? Explain to me what Winky needs.”

Dobby pulled on Harry’s hand and said with urgency, “Please follow Dobby. Master Harry must help Miss Winky now! Please!”

Harry found himself being dragged out of the Gryffindor common room and down the stairs that led to the kitchen galley. He called after Dobby to slow down, but as Dobby scurried intently down the hallways, Harry found it difficult to understand the house elf. He could only glean that something had happened to Winky and she needed help.

As the unlikely pair burst into the kitchen, Harry found the source of Winky’s distress. She had her hair pulled back in a ponytail, and had smudge of flour on her face. She had donned an apron that had fresh yellow egg yolk stains on the front.

“Winky, please listen to me. You mustn’t help me. I’m in charge of breakfast today, and I will finish these pancakes. You must help me explain to the rest of the house elves that they are no longer forced to do slave-labor!”

Winky was nearly convulsing with sobs and hiccups. She moaned as she threw her hands in front of her. “Please, Miss! PLEASE! Winky will make the pancakes! Please!”

Dobby let out a squirming plea. Looking up at Harry with his large, watery eyes nearly filling with tears, he tugged on Harry’s pant leg. When Harry looked down at him, smiling, Dobby nodded his head in Hermione’s direction. “Please Master Harry,” Dobby pleaded, “Please help Miss Winky!”

Harry nearly burst out laughing. Hermione was driving these poor creatures to their wit’s end. They wanted no part of her liberation movement, and from the looks of several disgruntled elves in the room that were bunched together with scornful looks on their faces, arms crossed in front of them, whispering frantically amongst themselves, Harry could tell she was about to be evicted from their kitchen.

Harry approached Hermione from behind, reached around her and covered her eyes with both hands. “Knock, knock,” he said softly.

“Harry!” Hermione jumped and tried to pull his hands off her eyes.

“That’s not what you’re supposed to say, now is it?”

“Come on, Harry, I’m busy! Stop playing around.”

Harry shook his head and leaned in closer, repeating the passage, “Knock, knock.”

Hermione let out an exasperated sigh, “Oh, all right! Who’s there?”

“Bach.”

She put her hands on her hips, pursing her lips to keep from smiling, “Bach who?”

“Bach to work, you slacker!”

She groaned. He wrapped his arms around her from behind, resting them on her collarbone. “Now before you blow a gasket, Mione, just listen. I know you mean well, and I know you’re serious about S.P.E.W. But you need to come with me, quickly. They’re about to commit mutiny.”

She pulled out of his arms and turned to face him.

“Harry, this is important! You know they just don’t realize yet, how disadvantaged they are. They think they likeworking!”

He noticed how her apron had been tied around her waist, the strings knotted into a neat bow in front. He reached down and untied it, then reached for the straps that went around her neck.

“I need you to come with me.”

“But Harry...”

“Now, Mione. Come.” He lifted the apron straps up and over her head.

Dobby ran over to comfort the still-sobbing Winky and looked up to Harry. A forced smile crossed his mouth as he bowed his head, “Dobby thanks Miss for ... helping. But Miss will please go with Harry Potter now.”

Harry grasped Hermione by the hand and led her out of the kitchen, through the Great Hall, in the direction of the front entrance. “There’s something I want to show you.”

The morning dew glistened on the grass as they made their way across it, and headed in the direction of the lake.

“I wrote to Sirius, like you suggested. He wrote back. He’s coming, Hermione.”

“Coming where? Here to Hogwarts?”

Harry nodded, and kept his gaze in the direction of the lake. “I hadn’t expected that. It’s still not safe for him. But even after I wrote back and told him that the scar incident was bogus, he still insists on coming. I can’t stop him.”

“Oh Harry!” She squeezed his hand, “You know he will be careful. You know he’s doing this for your protection.”

They were near the lake’s edge now, and Harry stared across the horizon. The morning sun tinted the water with soft pink and grey. A flock of geese flew overhead in a V formation. They swerved off into an easterly direction and Harry closed his eyes.

“Hermione, something will change this year. I don’t know what it is, but I feel it coming. It’s change.”

The morning air was brisk, and Hermione didn’t have her school robe on. She had removed it for cooking, but she had a cardigan on over her uniform blouse. She raised up her hands to do up the buttons, and instead of releasing Harry’s hand, she managed somehow to button the first two buttons with their hands clasped, the back of his hand resting on her chest as she worked her way down the sweater.

“I’ve been thinking about Ron, Harry.” She continued clumsily with the buttons.

“I think he’s jealous.” Harry stated.

“I agree,” Hermione continued. “He’s jealous of many things, Harry. At the World Cup, when he had all that leprechaun gold, he seemed so thrilled. For the first time, he had money to give to you! It’s not your fault, of course, but you know their family situation. And then there’s you... well you’re not exactly hurting for money.”

“Mione,” Harry swallowed.

”No, let me finish... he is jealous of your money and of your fame. You know this whole ‘eternal glory’ thing really means a lot to Ron. But I know you didn’t put your name in the goblet, Harry. You’d have to be bonkers to do so!”

On the fourth button down her cardigan, Harry noticed that his hand rested against her breasts and he shifted, tucking his free hand in his trouser pocket.

“Mione,” Harry tried again.

“No, Harry, it’s not just the Triwizard Tournament either. It’s also your relationship with Professor Dumbledore. We both know how close you two are, and well, frankly it is a bit disconcerting at times.”

“It’s you,” he declared.

“What?” she sputtered.

“It’s you.” He pulled his hand free from her grasp, not being about to concentrate with it being so intimately close to her. Something in him wanted to turn his hand to her. He shoved his hand into his free pocket, both hands forming hidden fists.

“Hermione, Ron fancies you. You must realize this by now.”

She shook her head in denial, “No, no, you’re wrong.”

“I’m not sure he will even admit it to himself, but he does. And deep down inside, you know he does. The question is, do you fancy him?”

She walked over to the very edge of the lake and squatted down, tucking her skirt under her, and picking up a pebble that had been smoothed by decades of being in the water. Harry walked over to her, picked up a similar pebble tossing it across the water’s surface. It skipped several times before sinking into the lake.

He retrieved another, repeated the action, mentally counting how many times the pebble skipped the surface before plunging down into the water.

She stood and faced him. “The first task is tomorrow, Harry. What are you going to do?”

Harry bent down for another pebble and held it in his hands, feeling of its smoothness. “You didn’t answer me, Mione.”

“Harry...” she swallowed, her throat feeling raw.

“It’s not a hard question to answer. It’s not an essay question, or even multiple choice. It’s either yes or no, true or false.” He wanted to hear her answer, but at the same time, he didn’t. He was afraid that she would confess something that made him uneasy. Why was he asking her about her feelings for Ron? Shouldn’t Ron be the one talking to her about this? And what would he do if she said yes? He suddenly felt panic grip him and take hold. What if...

She reached for his pebble, and tried to mimic him, but the rock kerplunked directly into the lake, sinking without a single skip. She felt deflated. She wanted to sink right along with that rock.

She had suspected that Ron might have feelings toward her, but she didn’t want to discuss this with Harry. She didn’t want Harry to think of her any differently than he did now. She thought about the possibility of losing his friendship over Ron. After all, he and Ron weren’t talking to each other and maybe Harry expected her to go with Ron now. She had to do something to fix this!

Hermione put her hand on Harry’s shoulder, looked him straight in the eye, and proclaimed, “There are only four questions of value in life, Don Octavio. What is sacred? Of what is the spirit made? What is worth living for, and what is worth dying for? The answer to each is the same: only love.”

Harry blinked. Several times.

“What?”

“Johnny Depp, ‘Don Juan De Marco.’ I get another go.”

Harry shook his head, “Hermione!”

She straightened her shoulders, “I get another go! Try and focus now, Potter.”

They hadn’t played this game in ages. There was no one else she knew at Hogwarts that could play this game with her. Only Harry and Hermione knew about Muggle movies, and they loved them. During the summers when everyone else went to their magical homes, Harry and Hermione went home to Muggles. They would owl each other the list of favorites that they’d watch.

“Ok, this one will be easier for you: “I know what you're thinking. Did he fire six shots or only five? Well, to tell you the truth, in all this excitement, I've kinda lost track myself. But being as this is a .44 Magnum, the most powerful handgun in the world, and would blow your head clean off, you've got to ask yourself one question: Do I feel lucky? Well, do ya punk?”

“Cripes, can you get any easier than that one, Hermione? ‘Dirty Harry’!”

“Yeah, well, you’re out of practice, I had to go easy on you!” She softly punched his shoulder. “So what were you going to show me?”

He squinted and pointed across the lake, to a section of shore on their left. “It’s over there, but we can’t get there from here unless we go through the Forbidden Forest.”

“What is it?”

“The last ingredient we need for our healing salve, for Potions.”

She lit up with surprise and threw her arms around Harry. “Nirvae! You found Nirvae? You did it! You found it! I knew you could!”

He chuckled as he pulled her in closer to him, tightening their embrace. He breathed in that jasmine smell of hers, which had nothing to do with perfume, shampoos or conditioners. It was just Hermione. He tucked his face into her neck; this was Hermione’s smell. He wasn’t sure if she had cast a spell on herself or not, but did know that whenever he held her like this, he was overcome, and couldn’t breathe in deeply enough.

“Thank you Harry,” she whispered. “Thank you!”

He knew she was thanking him for more than finding the last missing potion ingredient, but he wasn’t sure exactly what it was. “Hermione...”

“It’s your go.”

She reluctantly released him.

Harry grinned and raised his chin. “You have been weighed, you have been measured, and you have been found wanting. In what world could you possibly beat me?”

“Too easy. ‘Knight’s Tale.’ My go.”

She turned and headed back to the castle to see if they could catch breakfast before the food magically disappeared.

“I don't want to sell anything, buy anything or process anything as a career. I don't want to sell anything bought or processed... or buy anything sold or processed... or process anything sold, bought or processed... or repair anything sold, bought or processed. You know, as a career, I don't want to do that. What I really want to do with my life - what I want to do for a living - is I want to be with your daughter. I'm good at it."

“No fair, that sounds like a chick flick, Mione! You alwayspick quotes from the chick flicks!”

“And you always pick Clint Eastwood movies! Do you give up?”

“I have a better idea. Last one through the entrance writes all the notes for the Potions results!”

He pulled on her arm and began jogging toward the castle. “I’ll give you a five second lead!”

“You’re being a sore loser,” Hermione laughed.

“Five....four....”

She didn’t wait for the final countdown, but instead sprinted at full speed. He grinned smoothly as he watched her run from him, pulling his hands from his pockets, ready to give chase. He would run as far and fast as necessary to catch Hermione Granger!
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Dance with the One that Brought You