Disclaimer and such in part one.

Okay, okay, I know I promised an update LAST week. I suck.

Thank you all soooo much for the reviews...I love them!
Just to clear up some confusion...and in case you haven't quite gotten it the characters yet.=
Harry Potter = Annette Hardgrove
Hermione Granger = Sebastian Valmont
Draco Malfoy = Kathryn Mertuil
Neville Longbottom = Cecile Cauldwell
Ginny Weasley = Court Reynolds
Cho Chang = Greg...something
Ron Weasley = Blaine...something
Susan Bones = Ronald...something

Part Seven:

Harry raced around his room in an attempt to find something clean. His…not-date with Hermione was in five minutes and he still could not find a clean, decent looking shirt anywhere. After his, somewhat reassuring, conversation with Cho, Harry was determined to make up for his bad attitude. Cho had no reason to lie to him. Obviously Mrs. Longbottom was just lying to him. Harry sighed; he was tired of these 'friends' that kept popping out from nowhere.

"Harry? Hermione's here!" Sirius called up.

"Shit!" Harry cursed.

"Nice language," Hermione dryly said, ignoring how her stomach flipped at the sight of a, once again, shirtless Harry.

"You're early," Harry said, with more confidence than he felt.

"Not by every clock in England…save yours, that is," Hermione said, smiling. "I thought that the girl was supposed to be the one keeping the guy waiting?"

Sheepishly smiling, Harry finally found a suitable shirt. "I like to surprise people."

"I like surprises," Hermione softly said, following the Boy Who Lived out of the room.

'Susan,

I know that I've been a complete prat towards you in school, but I have something you will, most definitely want to receive. It's from Neville.

-DM'

Draco smiled at his vague letter. "If this doesn't get her attention, nothing will," he confidently told Neville. "Now, for your letter. It wouldn't do to not have anything to give to the poor girl."

Mutely nodding, Neville picked up his quill and began to write, each word a heartfelt expression of his feelings. Draco watched him write, slightly bored. "Well, when she gets my owl, and, hopefully, comes over…I think you should be here."

Startled, Neville looked up, "What?"

"Jesus, Neville! Are you going to always be hiding behind somebody? Grow some stones! You like the chit, right?"

"Yes," Neville softly answered. "But…last night…"

Controlling his features, Draco braced himself for what was coming. "Last night what?" he asked, boredom etched into his mannerisms.

"Well…we were supposed to meet up…but you weren't here. Hermione…well…"

"Spit it out already!" Draco implored, dying with laughter inwardly.

"She kissed me," Neville blurted out, blushing a deep red. He leaned closer to Draco, lowering his voice to a barely audible whisper. "On my…you know."

Biting back a smile, Draco put on a face of practiced innocence. "No, where?"

Draco watched, amused, as Neville's blush spread to encase his whole entire head. If Hermione hadn't of already told him about her experience with Neville the previous night, Draco quite probably would have been a bit confused. "You know, there," Neville said, emphasizing the word with a gesture to his groin.

"Oh," Draco said, before frowning. "Well, I think that you should go farther with her."

"What?!"

"Well, you don't want to disappoint Susan, do you? Or, even worse, get laughed at. Hermione could teach you things and, you know, give you some experience," Draco calmly explained. Based on Neville's wide-eyed, open-mouthed stare, the Gryffindor had never thought about that.

"But isn't that…wrong?" Neville asked, confused again.

Rolling his eyes, Draco sighed. "Nev, it's only wrong if you get caught. Everybody does it. Its just that nobody talks about it."

"Oh, like a secret club?" Neville asked, trying to comprehend this new idea. Draco smiled and nodded, reassuring Neville.

"Exactly," Draco agreed. "Now, about that letter…"

"Where are we going, Harry?" Hermione asked, feet and legs tired after an hour of seemingly pointless walking. She fought the desire to pout. Hermione absolutely hated walking. It was so…Muggle-like.

"Why? Is the infamous Miss Granger-Malfoy tired?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow, grinning madly.

Shooting him a half-angry, half-teasing glare, Hermione pursed her mouth. "No," she sullenly answered. The two made eye contact and Harry moved closer to Hermione.

"You sure? We're almost there," Harry said. Hermione nodded as Harry grabbed her hand. It was a nice contact. Hermione marveled at the calloused strength of Harry's hand, before mentally slapping herself. She was beginning to sound dangerously like one of those insipid Potter fan-girls rather than a Granger-Malfoy. "Close your eyes," Harry whispered, once the pair was on top of the, in Hermione's eyes, rather steep hill that they had been hiking up for the past ten minutes.

Making eye contact with the Boy-Who-Lived, Hermione inhaled deeply before closing her eyes. She sensed Harry's free hand wave in front of her closed eyes, before he let go of her hand and gathered her up in his arms. "Hang on," he whispered into her ears; before she felt the unmistakable sensation of being both weightless and of gravity that one only felt midair, on a broom.

Hermione hated flying. Wincing, slightly, as she realized that they were flying, Hermione cowered into Harry's shirt and, absolutely refused to open her eyes. "You do realize that I will be killing you, right?" Hermione asked; her voice pinched with fear.

"Hermione," Harry said, hearing the fear in her voice and feeling the tension in her body, "I'm sorry. I didn't know that you were afraid to fly."

"I am not afraid to fly!" Hermione protested, despite her body's visible reaction against flying. "I just don't like it."

Chuckling softly, Harry tightened his grip on the Head Girl, before slowly descending. "Open your eyes," Harry requested, hovering above their destination.

"No," Hermione petulantly answered.

"Please?" Harry asked again.

Growling low in her throat, Hermione slowly opened one eye and then the other. And immediately gasped with shock.

Harry had led them to the most wildly beautiful place that Hermione had ever seen. "This is Godric's Hollow," Harry quietly said, before pointing to a smallish cabin situated on the edge of a small lake. "That's where Voldemorte killed my parent."

Quiet, Hermione listened to Harry as he slowly took them down to the quaint cabin where it had simultaneously ended and began. They both got off of the broom, which Harry left laying in the grass, and walked towards the cabin. "My father's body was found here," Harry simply said, pointing to a place just inside the door. "He was trying to hold off Voldemorte…give my mother and I time to escape. He knew he was going to be murdered."

Hermione fought the urge to shudder as they walked through the cabin that still held mementos of the Potter family. She wanted to smile at the family pictures that littered every surface of the cabin, but didn't. She took in the half-finished, sixteen year-old crossword puzzle sitting by the couch. It was never going to be finished. Hermione blinked back tears.

"Come," Harry said, grabbing her hand again. She couldn't help but notice that it was slightly shaking. Hermione followed as Harry led her up the stairs.

The pair walked into a quickly, but cheerfully decorated nursery. Hermione bit her lip. She had read enough about the history of Harry Potter to know what happened in this room.

"This was your room," she stated, squeezing Harry's hand, uncaring of the fact that there was emotion in her voice. Uncaring of the fact that her entire heart, body, mind, and soul was going out to this man-boy who had saved the entire Wizarding world more times than somebody his age should have. Hermione tried to write it off as pity, sympathy for a War Hero, but looking at him, at his expression of loneliness…

Hermione closed her eyes as the realization that she was falling in love hit her. 'I need to get out of here. I need to call off this stupid bet,' Hermione thought, staring at Harry's lost expression in his eyes.

"My mother fell where you're standing. And Voldemorte moved on to me," Harry whispered. Hermione took the necessary three steps to Harry.

And kissed him.

It was not one of the kisses Hermione was used to receiving and giving. It was small, more of a comfort thing rather than one meant to arouse. She kept her eyes open, trained on Harry's green ones. As suddenly as the kiss was started, she ended it, pulling away from Harry slightly.

Hermione went to apologize, when Harry reached out and grabbed her with more passion than she ever would have expected from him. He pulled her close to him and attacked her mouth, her clothes, her body.

Hermione did the same to him.

And, in the middle of the room where he lost everything, Hermione gave herself, completely, to Harry Potter.