Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine. I hope he is...

CHAPTER 1: THE LILIES

White Lilies.

Those are my favorite flowers and those were the things that would always be found on top of my bedside table every morning. Seeing it there when I open my eyes, when I wake up makes my day just right. Once you had a glimpse of it, you'd forget all of your worries and problems like memory charms are casted upon you. Everything seems perfect. But something is still bothering me.

The lilies.

Who the hell is giving them to me? How could he get inside my room? How come he knows that lilies, specifically white, are my favorite flowers? And of all the girls here at Hogwarts, why did his eyes fell upon me and chose me? There are loads of girls out there that are far more gorgeous than me, but...why me?

You see, I have been receiving fresh, white lilies everyday from a complete stranger. A thousand faces popped in my head, most of them are Gryffindors. But I don't think a Gryffindor would do such...such a...

Sweet, romantic thing.

Go on, just laugh at me! I know you think I'm silly, but in my opinion, it's kind of romantic. Ha! If Ron could hear me now, he'd be laughing his lungs out. In Harry's case, he'd be smiling and shaking his head like I had lost my mind. Those boys, they're acting like...like boys! But they're not boys anymore! Why are they acting like that?

We've grown a lot, Ron became the Gryffindor Keeper and he's still the prefect. But mind you, he's playing terribly now. I wish I know why...Harry, somehow, ended up as the Head Boy and Captain of the Quidditch Team. And I became the Head Girl. I was really honored to take the task of a Head Girl. Harry was pleased of it because he was having his own room at the Top of the Gryffindor Tower, right next to mine. That's all that he cares about: his own room.

Just then, I heard a knock on my door that distracted me from my thoughts. Now who the hell--?

"Hermione?"

My door opened and Harry's head poked in, looking around my room and his eyes landed to me. He smiled sheepishly at me and I smiled back.

"Can I come in?"

I snickered. "I can see that your head's already in."

He chuckled and just played my game. "Well," he said playfully. "Can the rest of me come in?"

"Certainly."

The rest of his body appeared behind the door. He was wearing one of Mrs. Weasley's knitted sweaters that matched the color of his eyes. It was now very small for him that it fitted perfectly around his Quidditch-sculpted body. He was wearing jeans that were sizes too big for him, obviously, from Dudley. But it looked really nice on him. In fact, he looked nice on everything he wears because he was tall and everything...

"Are you going to stare at me all morning or are you going to dress up and have some breakfast downstairs?" he said, smiling broadly. I felt my face burn.

"How dare you accuse me of staring at you!"

"But you are! You're guilty!"

"I am not!"

"Yes you are!"

"Oh, just shut up," I said, my face flushed. "I give up. Okay, I was staring at you because you look like a mess."

"Yah, whatever."

"If don't believe me, that's you're problem, Harry Potter," I said moving over to my closet to change. "Now, if you don't mind I'm going to change."

I was about to pull of my top when I noticed that he was still here in my bedroom, sitting on my bed, and staring at me.

"Harry! I said I'll meet you down at the Common Room!"

"Can't I just stay and wait for you in here?" he said with those puppy eyes that are so hard to resist. "Besides, I want to see a very wonderful view from here. If you would just pull up that top of yours a little higher..."

And that was it. The next thing I knew, I was shouting and throwing pillows at him.

"OUT!"

"Hey – er – calm down! I was only joking!"

"But I am not, Potter!" I bellowed. I can't believe this! Since when did Harry start on flirting? And he's flirting with me! "NOW OUT, YOU PERVERT!"

"Now, now, Hermione," he protested as I pushed him out of the door. "Pervert is not the right word—"

"OUT!"

Then I slammed the door shut. I leaned against it, panting. Harry – he's acting like a boy! I just hate him when he acts like that. It's just...oh, never mind.

"Alright!" he shouted from outside. "I give up! If you don't want me to see that wonderful scenery, fine. It's not my loss, you know! I'll wait for you downstairs, okay?" Then he was gone.