Author's Note: I don't own any of these characters, which are in fact the property of J.K. Rowling and her publishers, etc., etc. You know the deal.
A million thanks to all those who've taken the time to read and review this, my first work of fan fiction. Your thoughtful critiques are truly welcomed. As a little girl, I never wanted to reach the last page of the book or the end of the movie. I always wanted to see what the characters would do next. Guess this is my way of keeping that little girl alive. Hope you like it! --- babygrrl
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"I DON'T BELIEVE THIS!" Hermione smacked her hand repeatedly against the barrier between platforms 9 and 10, which remained infuriatingly solid.
Harry stood to one side rubbing his shoulder. His dark hair was even more disarrayed than usual and his glasses hung from one ear. The contents of his trolley, including a cage containing a very disgruntled Hedwig, lay strewn about. They had been running late, literally, and he'd taken the barrier at full speed. Or tried to anyway. Instead he had crashed rather spectacularly, sending his trunk, Hedwig and other assorted parcels flying, and earning a rather disapproving look from the station attendant. Only then had he thought to check his watch, which read 11:01. They were exactly one minute late, but the Hogwarts Express, punctual as always, had left platform 9 ¾ on the dot. The barrier was now closed and they were stranded.
Hermione had ceased slapping the wall and was now banging her head against it in frustration. Crookshanks, her mangy marmalade cat, gave a loud "Mrrrrrow!" of alarm from inside his carrier.
"Oh, shut up," Harry muttered crossly as he went to grab Hermione by the shoulders and steer her back to her abandoned trolley before she gave herself a concussion. The Muggles around them were beginning to stare. "Bloody cat. This is all your fault, y'know." Rather than dignify this with a response, Crookshanks gave Harry a baleful glare and busied himself with bathing his hindquarters, as if to say, here's what I think of that. Harry narrowed his eyes at the cat, steering Hermione away from the wall. As he did so, he noticed once again how good her hair smelled. He'd been noticing it for years now, but he always forcefully reminded himself that friends didn't go round sniffing each other's hair. Even if one's friend happened to have hair the color of chestnuts and honey that floated around her face like a soft, fluffy cloud. He wondered what it would feel like in his hands . . .
"MRRRRREEEYOW!" Harry had inadvertently trod on Crookshanks' tail, which protruded from the carrier like a moth-eaten bit of rope.
"Oh, you poor darling," Hermione was kneeling in front of the carrier and crooning to the indignant cat. "There, there sweetheart. I'm sure Harry didn't mean to hurt you." She glared up at him. She had to tilt her head way back in order to do so. At seventeen, Harry was no longer a skinny little boy. He'd grown and filled out these last few years. The height he had gained might have made him look gangly, but instead was balanced nicely by the muscle he'd put on in Quidditch training. Not that she noticed such things.
Right now, all 6'1" of him was outraged. His green eyes blazed with annoyance. "What are you looking at me like that for?! If that great mangy hair-ball you call a cat hadn't taken off like that, we wouldn't be in this mess, would we?"
Hermione ignored him and resumed soothing her pet. "Poor baby. You've been through a lot today, haven't you?"
"He's been through a lot? He's been ---" Harry was spluttering.
They had arrived at the station with plenty of time to spare. Hermione's parents had offered to give Harry a lift, and Harry's Uncle Vernon, who despised all things magical and went purple in the face whenever anyone so much as mentioned the word "Hogwarts", was more than happy to accept the offer. It helped that Mr. and Mrs. Granger were Muggles. They arrived in a perfectly normal automobile, rather than bursting through the fireplace as Ron's parents had one year.
No sooner had they bid Hermione's parents farewell than Crookshanks, for reasons known only to himself, had leapt from Hermione's arms and disappeared into the crowd of busy commuters. The half hour the friends had planned to spend having a pumpkin juice and catching up on their adventures over the summer while waiting for the train had instead been spent combing the station for Hermione's lost pet. Harry was particularly disappointed. He'd been looking forward to spending some time with Hermione without Ron. But Hermione had been frantic. She'd thrown those big brown eyes at him and he hadn't been able to resist. Off to look for Crookshanks they went. By the time the animal had been found and properly secured in his carrier, they had had to run for it.
Unfortunately, they weren't quick enough. Harry cast another look of dislike at the now sleeping feline and shook his head in disgust. Now what? He rubbed his aching shoulder.
"Harry, do you realize what this means?" Hermione had a wild look in her eyes.
"Yes," he replied sourly. "I think I've bloody gone and dislocated my shoulder."
"We've missed the train!"
"Really? What was your first clue?"
"Stop it. This is horrible. We're going to be late for school." In Hermione's world, this was a major disaster. "What are we supposed to do now?"
"Relax, Hermione. It's not the end of the world. I've been here before, you know." He was referring to an incident in his second year. Then, Dobby the house elf had tampered with the barrier in an effort to prevent Harry from returning to Hogwarts in order to protect him. This time, well . . . he scratched his head. He wasn't sure if the barrier always closed after the train had left or if it would reopen again later. He was pretty sure that the Hogwarts Express made only the one trip, though. Wanting to reassure Hermione, who was on the verge of losing it, he said, "Don't worry. We made it to school that time, didn't we? I'm sure we'll manage."
"Oh, and I suppose you think we can waltz out to parking lot and steal another enchanted car, do you? That little escapade turned out well for you and Ron, didn't it?" Hermione's voice had a slightly hysterical tinge.
Harry winced remembering the encounter with the Whomping Willow and the scandal that had ensued after several Muggles had spotted the flying Ford Anglia. "I meant that there are other ways of getting to Hogwarts. We just have to keep our heads, that's all."
He thought for a moment. "I don't suppose you still have that hourglass thingy. The one you used to turn back time so you could take all those extra classes in third year." It had also come in quite handy in saving Sirius, his godfather, from the dementors.
Hermione frowned at him disapprovingly. "No, but even if I did, you know we're not allowed to do magic outside of school. I'd expect a seventh year to remember that." Harry loved it when she scowled at him like that. It was why he often went out of his way to provoke her.
Harry rolled his eyes. "Forgive me, your Prefect-ness." Hermione had been made a Prefect last year. "You sound like Percy Weasley. What do you suggest then?"
Hermione sighed and ran her hands through her hair. This had an extraordinary effect on her breasts beneath the snug sweater she wore. Harry forgot about Percy and everything else, his mouth suddenly dry. Good grief. What was the matter with him? This was his best friend, for godsakes! The one who badgered him about studying and nagged him about breaking rules whenever he and Ron went on one of their escapades. The one who was always, always loyal and who had saved him more than once in the battle against You-Know-Who with her quick thinking and clever spells. So what if in addition to being a magical genius, she happened to possess a magnificent pair of . . .
Harry shook himself. Steady, lad. This is Hermione, here. You don't want to go mucking up one of the best friendships you've ever had.
"The heart wants what it wants," he remembered Ron saying to him when Harry had questioned him about his rather stormy relationship with Fleur Delacour. Then he'd grinned and added, "The heart also wants what the gonads want. That's the only trouble."
All Harry knew was that all his body parts seemed to want Hermione and it was getting harder and harder to keep them in line. If Hermione only knew what he was thinking, she'd probably hex him into next week.
"I know!"
Harry jolted. "Er, what? I mean, you do?" What was she talking about here?
Hermione slapped a hand to her forehead. Harry thought that between the barrier and her hand, Hermione's forehead had seen quite a lot of abuse today, which was a shame as it was such an attractive forehead. He tried to focus on what she was saying.
"Why didn't I think of it before? The Knight Bus, Harry! We can take it to Hogwarts."
"Except you're forgetting that the Knight Bus only runs at night. It's not even noon yet. What do we do between now and then?"
Now that their transportation dilemma was solved, Hermione's mood was greatly improved. She shot him a rare mischievous look and Harry felt something tighten in his gut. "Oh, I'll wager we can find something to do."