She couldn't figure out how he was doing it. The messy haired man had been in this same spot for the last month, always a few feet from the entrance of the bookshop she worked at, always with a smile on his face. He seemed nice enough but Hermione didn't trust him. He looked to be in his early twenties, close to her age and even she could admit, the most beautiful bright green eyes she had ever seen. She would stop everyday and watch him do a magic trick, trying to figure out how he did it but she had never been able too.

On that particular day, she watched him pull a bouquet of flowers, seemingly from nowhere and give them to a little girl who was watching and clapping, a look of awe on her face as she took the flowers. Taking a closer look, Hermione saw the flowers were actually ~real~. She had to figure it out. Nothing bothered her more than not knowing how something worked. It was one of the bigger downfalls to being so bright, she could take nothing at face value, she had to know the mechanics behind everything.

Clapping along with the few other people who had gathered to watch him, she started to walk home, her flat just two blocks away. Hermione hadn't gone more than a few feet when she felt a tap on her shoulder. She jumped and spun around quickly, seeing the green eyed magician smiling at her.

"You scared me, don't sneak up on people like that," she scolded.

"I didn't mean to startle you," he told her with a grin. "I've noticed you stopping by to watch a few times, you don't look like you enjoy the show."

Hermione flushed. "It's not that I don't enjoy it, I just don't know how you're doing it," she explained.

"Magic," he said simply, the same grin on his face that she refused to find attractive.

"Oh yes I'm sure. I just don't like not knowing how things work is all. I'll figure it out eventually," she told him, turning to walk off.

"I'm Harry by the way, Harry Potter. What's your name?"

"If you know magic, you'll figure it out," she called over her shoulder, not bothering to stop.

--

Every other day for the next two weeks, as she would walk past Harry the magician, he would walk her to the entrance of her building and try to guess her name.

"Can you at least give me a hint?" he begged.

"Why do you want to know my name anyway?"

Harry grabbed her hand before she could walk inside. "So I can take you on a proper date, get to know you. That's the only way I can tell you how I do what I do," he said seriously.

Fighting the blush that was spreading down her neck, Hermione sighed. "Shakespeare."

He smiled brightly and let go of her hand, she refused to acknowledge the brief sadness that passed through her at the loss of contact.

"That narrows it down a bit then, doesn't it?" Harry said with a laugh. "If I guess your name by the end of the week, will you let me take you out to dinner this weekend? A real date?"

The look on his face was so sincere and earnest, Hermione couldn't help but nod her head. The past couple weeks had been lovely. Having a man be so interested in her was a new phenomenon for her and she couldn't help but be incredibly flattered.

"Okay, I'll go out with you if you can guess my name." Feeling a bit like Rumplestiltskin as she said so she was unable to contain the giggle that the thought brought.

--

Harry made a few guesses the following days, Juliet, Ophelia, Rosalind, but never seemed to get discouraged when she told him he was wrong. He walked her home everyday, sometimes standing outside her building with her for a couple hours just talking about their lives. It was the most fun she had had in a long time. The more she got to know him, the more she liked him. He was caring, sweet, funny, and very smart. She learned he had recently moved to London from the countryside and was in some sort of police training. He was a bit vague on his schooling and his job but Hermione had been told she had a habit of over-sharing with new people.

Telling her about the boarding school he had attended in Scotland sounded amazing, he told her about his friends, one of whom was some sort of professional athlete. His mother was some sort of teacher at the boarding school he had attended and his father worked in the same field as he did. It sounded as though he had a wonderful family and Hermione couldn't help but hope she got the chance to meet them.

In return, Hermione told him about growing up with parents who were more interested in their careers than the genius daughter they had. She had gone to an all girls boarding school and then on to Oxford where she was currently on a gap year before finishing her degree in English. Hermione told him about growing up with very few friends, preferring to get lost in a fictional world.

"I used to dream about being swept away to a magical world with dragons and mermaids." She laughed, missing the wide eyed look he gave her. "Daft, isn't it?"

On Friday, Hermione was counting the hours until she could leave the shop and see Harry. When her shift was finally over, she found him standing next to the door looking nervous.

"Everything alright?" she asked him.

He gave her a small smile. "Everything's grand, ready to head home?"

"Sure." she said, heading down the sidewalk, trying not to show the disappointment she felt when he didn't start to attempt her name.

"Look Harry, I understand if you don't want to go on a date anymore, I know I'm not exactly a catch," Hermione said, refusing to look over at him, her eyes trained to the sidewalk ahead.

Grabbing her hand, he pulled her to a quiet alley right next to her building.

"It's not that. I want to go on a date with you, more than anything but there are things I haven't told you. Things I can't tell you. Not yet anyway." He was pacing a bit, Hermione was starting to get concerned.

"I don't expect you to tell me all your secrets, Harry," she said quietly.

"Hermione."

She looked up at him, shocked. He was staring at her with a strange look in his eye.

"Your name's Hermione, from a Winter's Tale. I figured it out a couple days ago but I didn't want to cut our time. These last two weeks have been some of the best in my entire life."

Her mouth fell open as he confessed.

"How did you figure it out?" she asked, even though it was the least important thing she wanted to ask.

Harry laughed a bit. "You handed me one of your books last week, I opened the cover and your name was on the inside of it." He shrugged his shoulders. "I want to go on a date with you, I want to get to know you more, there's just something about you that feels right ."

"I feel it too. Like something inside me is pulling me to you."

He looked up sharply at her. "What do you mean?"

Blushing, Hermione looked down at her hands again, unable to make eye contact. "I just feel this pull deep inside, don't ask me what it is, but I know its about you, it's like my very soul is calling out to you." She sighed. "I sound like a nutter."

"No you don't. I feel it too." He walked forward, tilting her head up to look into his bright green eyes.

"What if I told you that magic was real," he whispered, leaning closer.

"I would say that's illogical but something inside me is telling me that's the most true thing I've ever heard."

Then his lips were on her, pressing against her with just enough pressure. It was the most perfect kiss she had ever had. His hand was still gripping her chin lightly while his other arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her even closer. When he pulled back, she let out a disgruntled noise that made him laugh.

"I think we have a lot to talk about."