AN: Enjoy. Please review.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

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"Harry, it's not that hard! It's just a simple thrusting motion, you have to concentrate!"

"I've been concentrating for the past 3 hours! I got the motion down but I'm exhausted! How do you have so much stamina and patience!?

"Stamina? Stamina has nothing to do with it. I practice."

"Practice? Where and when do you practice?"

"I practice in the girl's dormitories when no one's around."

"You practice in the dormitories…alone…without any assistance?"

"Yes."

"…Bloody hell."

"Watch your tongue, Mr. Potter. I'm still a prefect and I will not tolerate bad language."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes, professor."

Hermione shook her head. "Your stance is wrong. Lift you wand higher and spread your legs apart more. Now try."

Harry tiredly sighed as he once again returned to his form.

"Meta Floreta!" Harry chanted, thrusting his wand towards one of his many quills. The quill shivered, turned green, and sprouted red petals.

"Finally!" Harry cheered, plucking the perfect, thorn-less rose and plopping down on a sofa. "It actually looks like a flower."

Hermione plopped herself besides Harry. "See? I knew you could do it! All you needed was practice."

Harry James Potter, with the assistance of Hermione Jane Granger, managed to master the flower transfiguration spell.

(Me: *arches eyebrows as readers facefault* What's got your wand in a knot?)

Harry smirked. "There's a difference between practicing and obsessing, Mione. I actually have a life beyond a book."

He was quickly silenced by a pillow.

"I do NOT obsess!" Hermione snapped, hitting Harry's arm with a textbook. Harry chuckled. This was a usual Friday evening for the Gryffindor common room. Harry and Ron would be practicing spells and doing their homework with Hermione, who probably had it mastered/done a week ago. Today, however, Ron was absent for he was on a romantic dinner next to the Black Lake with Luna. It was their one-year anniversary, after all.

Hermione reached for her bag, pulling out their 3-inch Potions textbook. "Now, let's work on out Potion's essay," she suggested. She smirked as Harry's proud expression turned into a downtrodden one.

"Awwww, come on, Mione! I've been practicing for 3 hours! Besides, the essay isn't due until 2 weeks from now!" Harry whined.

"And I'm sure I'm going to find you and Ron hastily doing your essay on the morning it's due," Hermione huffed, opening her textbook. "Let's get started."

Harry groaned in displeasure. "Awww, Pwweeeeessssse, Mione! Have a heart!"

Harry quickly whipped out his most powerful weapon, his puppy-dog face. Hermione quickly looked away, but it was too late. She stared, captivated by the emerald-green eyes. His expression was pleading; his lower lip was in an adorable pout. Harry's raven-black hair was as messy as ever. Hermione had to physically restrain herself from smoothing his untamed locks. Did you guess? Hermione Granger was absolutely smitten for her best friend, Harry Potter.

Hermione buried her nose in her textbook, successfully hiding her blush. "Oh, all right!" she mumbled as Harry whooped in triumph.

"The 'face' never fails!" Harry cried, striking a pose. The grandfather clock quickly made its presence known by chiming 9 loud gongs. Harry stood up and stretched.

"Well, I think I'm going to retire to my dormitory." Harry replied, "I heard the Weasley twins need a guinea pig for their newest product."

"Don't come crying to me when you wake up with purple hair!" Hermione giggled. Harry, being the mature one, stuck out his tongue. He got up and was about to head toward the boy's dormitories when he was hit with an idea.

Bowing low, Harry presented Hermione with his rose. "I would like to thank thee, m'lady, for assisting a hopeless cause such as myself. Please take this flower as a token of my gratitude," Harry replied, flashing a smile that would make Lockhart proud.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever!" Hermione exclaimed, waving her hand in a shooing motion as she tried to control the flow of blood in her face.

Harry smirked, caught Hermione's waving hand, kissed her knuckles, tucked the rose behind her ear, and retreated to the boy's dormitories, all within a span of 6 seconds. This action left a hyperventilating Hermione sitting there stunned at how the common room mysteriously got 10 degrees hotter. Hermione, finally able to compose herself, removed the rose from behind her ear. She smiled warmly as she twirled the delicate plant between her fingers.

Being in her own little world, Hermione never noticed the female Weasley who was sitting in the corner, studying her intently. As a matter of fact, she wasn't aware that anyone was even in the room until the Weasley sat beside her.

"Oh, hey Gin," Hermione greeted, her face still pink.

"Hey Hermione," Ginny replied, "We're friends, right?"

Hermione jumped at the blunt question. "Of course! Why do you ask?"

Ginny shrugged. "I don't know. I feel like I don't know you well enough. Well, I know you've saved Harry and Ron's life multiple occasions (shrug), you're absolutely MAD when it comes to schoolwork (glare), and a few rather obvious things." As Ginny said this, she gave a knowing smirk towards Hermione. Hermione raised her eyebrow in suspicion, but said nothing.

"So, what do you want to know?" Hermione inquired.

"Oh, just random stuff friends know about each other like…what's your favorite food?"

"Well," Hermione started, a little bemused at the sudden change of topic, "My favorite food is lasagna, but that's only for dinner. For breakfast, I prefer a traditional meal of eggs, toast, and bacon."

"Oh?" Ginny raised her eyebrow in confusion. "I thought you hated eggs," she replied, remembering the time her Mum offered Hermione a helping of eggs, which she flat out refused.

Hermione blushed. "Well, I changed my opinion."

"How so?"

Hermione blushed harder. "Well…"

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Hermione looked up as the grandfather clock chimed, informing her that it was 6:00 A.M. Hermione was up early, as usual, studying for an exam that was assigned a month from now. (AN: Cue the eye rolling!) Hermione returned her attention back to her notes when her stomach made its presence known with a loud growl. Luckily no one was up at this ungodly hour, otherwise Hermione would be blushing at her embarrassing predicament.

Hermione quickly gathered her notes, got up, and rubbed her tired eyes. 'Maybe I can grab a quick breakfast in the kitchen' she thought. Exiting the common room through the portrait hole, she made her way the kitchen entrance, tickling the pear. Entering, she was surprised to find house elves bustling left and right, preparing breakfast for the students. She was about to be shocked even more.

"Quick, Star! The pancakes are burning!"

"Yes, Mr. Potter!"

"Harry, Star! For the 17th time, it's Harry!

"Yes, Mr. Po-Harry!"

Hermione watched with raised eyebrows as Harry, The-Boy-Who-Lived, bustled along with house elves in a pink apron that said 'Kiss the Cook.' He expertly flipped 5 pancakes before wiping the sweat off his brow.

"Harry!?"

Harry's head whipped around. "Hermione!?" Harry hollered across the kitchen. "Hey Tippy! Can you take my place for a minute?"

"Of course, Mr. Potter!" a petite house elf answered, quickly positioning herself at the pancake station.

"Harry!"

"Of course…er…Harry."

Harry quickly ripped off his apron as he made his way towards Hermione. "Hey Hermione!" Harry greeted, slightly out of breath, "What brings you to the kitchen at the ungodly hour of 6:08?"

"Well, I was up early studying for the Transfiguration exam (Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head at this) when I got a little hungry. I was hoping to grab an early breakfast, if it wasn't too much trouble," Hermione explained, eyeing the rushing house elves. She then remembered her earlier question/exclamation. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I come here every morning and help make breakfast," Harry answered, "The food you eat during breakfast? Some of them are my creations." Harry grinned as he jabbed his thumb at his chest. "The house elves still insist on calling me Mr. Potter though."

Hermione looked shocked. "Every morning?"

Harry nodded, still grinning. His smile quickly melted however as he sniffed the air. His eyes widened.

"The bacon!!!" He yelled, practically flying across the kitchen, attempting the save the life of the dangerously dark brown strips of pork.

Suddenly, the petite elf from before appeared by Hermione's side. "Hello, Mizz Grangey. My name is Tippy. Right this way, please. We have a table set for you," the polite house elf squeaked, escorting her to her table.

"Wait a minute! How do you know my name?" Hermione questioned, following the elf.

Tippy giggled. "Mr. Potter speaks of you very often and fondly."

Hermione blushed. Harry talked about her? Before she could put any more thought in her new founded discovery, Harry interrupted her thoughts.

"So what are you hungry for, Hermione?"

Hermione turned fast enough to see Harry nimbly catch toast on a plate as it popped out of a toaster. "Huh?"

Harry took more slices of bread and slid them in the toaster. He turned towards Hermione with a raised eyebrow. "You did come to the kitchen for food, right?"

"Oh right!" Hermione blushed. "I'll have whatever food you can spare."

Harry smirked. "A traditional breakfast it is!" With his speedy Seeker reflexes, Harry presented Hermione with pancakes, toast, sausages, bacon, and juice.

"How many servings of eggs do you want?" Harry asked, spatula and pan in hand.

"None thank you."

Harry almost dropped his spatula in surprise. "What!? No eggs? You can't have a traditional breakfast without eggs!"

"I'm not very fond of eggs."

"WHAT!? Not fond of eggs!!! Why!?!?"

"…Er…when I was a little kid, my dad kept teasing me and telling me that eggs are actually…um…human eye balls. So, naturally, I…er…never touched an egg in my life," Hermione explained, feeling very foolish.

Hermione studied Harry's reaction, which surprisingly was very calm. Harry walked over to the stove and placed the pan and spatula on the counter. Harry turned towards Hermione…and collapsed on the kitchen floor, laughing uncontrollably.

Hermione could feel her cheeks burning.

"HAHAHA! HOLY MERLIN…I…I CAN'T…HAHAHAHA…Y-YOU…HAHAHA…AND…HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!" A few house elves quickly rushed by Harry's side, worried about his health. "I'm-I'm fine," Harry reassured, finally able to compose himself.

Harry was still stifling his chuckles as he faced a flushed Hermione.

"It's not funny!"

Her declaration just made Harry laugh harder.

"I-I'm sorry, Hermione." Harry apologized, " It's just your reason caught me off guard. I thought you would give me some logical explanation, like they have a lot of calories or something."

"Well, they do," Hermione mumbled, her face still pink.

"Ahhh, but you didn't say that, did you? The reason you gave for not liking eggs was from something your dad told you when you were a little girl. You are aware that eggs aren't human eye balls, right?"

"Of course! Eggs are oval, thin-shelled reproductive structures of mult-"

"Yes those. So how do you know if you hate eggs if you've never tried them?"

"But-"

"Oh, come on Hermione! Just try it!" Harry insisted. He quickly pulled out the famous, or rather infamous, "face."

Hermione closed her eyes as she pinched the bridge of her nose. Curse those damn, cute, emerald-green eyes!

"Oh, all right!"

Harry grinned like the Creshire cat as he quickly grabbed his tools of "destruction." Within a few minutes, Harry presented Hermione with an egg, served sunny side up. Harry stared anxiously as Hermione poked the food in question with a fork. She turned green as the yolk dripped down on the plate. Glancing around the kitchen, she breathed a sigh of relief. 'Good,' Hermione thought, 'There's a trash can nearby.'

Harry stared unwaveringly at the fork, as if trying to use his mind to force it into the egg. Hermione mentally shook her head as she cut off a section. Slowly, she brought the fork up to her mouth. Closer…and closer…and closer. 'Here goes nothing.' The bit of egg was a mere 2 inches from her tongue.

Harry, not able to take it anymore, grabbed the fork and did nothing short of shoving the morsel Hermione's open mouth.

"Mmmrrffff!" Hermione cried indignantly, glaring at Harry.

Harry, however, was unfazed. He placed his finger on Hermione's lips. "Chew."

Harry's serious face quickly melted into one with a wide grin of satisfaction as Hermione's disgruntled expression turned into one of surprise and delight.

"Wow! This is really good, Harry!" Hermione complimented, eyes still wide. Who knew that all that yellow gook could be turned into something this good? "Well, what are you going to do, watch me eat? Have some breakfast!" Hermione pushed a plate towards Harry.

Harry smirked. "Sure."

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"So Harry's the reason you like eggs?" Ginny questioned after Hermione finished her 'tale.'

Hermione nodded, curious as to why Ginny looked so thoughtful.

"So, what's your favorite song?"

"Oh, that's a hard one," Hermione replied. She rested her head on the couch pillow, biting her lip in thought and staring at the ceiling. "I'm going to have to say 'Why are we still friends?' by 98 degrees."

"Really?" Ginny asked, once again surprised by the brunette's answer.

"Mmm-hmm. But the first time I heard it wasn't by 98 degrees, though."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning the first time I heard the song, I heard it sung by someone else."

Ginny grabbed a couch pillow and hugged it while she made herself more comfortable. "Who?"

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Hermione was sitting in the common room, finishing next week's homework…again. (AN: *sigh*) She looked up as the portrait hole opened, revealing a muddy, exhausted Ron with his Cleansweep in hand. Ron grunted as he collapsed on the couch, not bothering himself with the fact that he was filthy.

"Tough practice today?" Hermione asked. It was more of a statement than a question, but she asked anyway.

Ron gave her his 'are-you-REALLY-asking-that-question' look. "You have absolutely no bloody idea!" Ron groaned, ignoring Hermione's glare from his use of profanity, "Practice was brutal! Wood is off his rocker if he thinks we will survive by next week if he keeps pushing us like this!"

Hermione rolled her eyes at the redhead's exaggeration. She then noticed that their green-eyed companion didn't come in as well. "Where's Harry?"

"How should I know? After practice, he left, saying something about having to go and relax."

Hermione nodded, accepting the answer. She glanced out the window and stood up. "It's a nice day today. I think I'm going to go out for a walk. Care to join me?"

Ron shot Hermione yet another look. "Hermione, I'm having difficulty breathing at the moment, much less walk," Ron replied, "Besides, don't you know lunch's in 5 minutes?"

Hermione shrugged. "I'm not that hungry. I'll grab a bite to eat later."

"Well, I'm going to take a shower and head over to the Great Hall. Seeya!"

"Bye."

With that said, Ron dragged himself up the boy's dormitories as Hermione headed out of the portrait hole.

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Hermione sighed contently as she leaned against a tree, admiring the landscape. She beamed as sun reflected its rays against the surface of the Black Lake, clearly defining its ripples. Here and there, she could hear birds singing and chirping for their mates. Leaves on trees swayed and danced as a breeze swooped gently through the sky. Hermione smiled even wider as the same breeze blew the hair out of her face. It seems nature has its ways of calming her.

Hermione closed her eyes as she took in the sounds around her. The soft 'whishes' of the waves, the excited chatter of the wild animals, the rustle of the green leaves…

Hermione snapped open her eyes as a foreign sound reached her ears. She scrunched her eyebrows together as she searched her brain for the source of the sound. It obviously wasn't from anything natural.

Her curiosity getting the best of her, Hermione got up and followed the foreign noise. Confused, Hermione followed the sound into the calmer parts of the Forbidden Forest. She peered through the brush and spotted a figure, sitting slightly hunched over with something in his/her hands. Hermione realized that the object in question was actually a guitar, and the strange noise was actually the sound of the stranger tuning it.

Hermione studied the figure behind the sanctuary of the bushes. Unfortunately, the person's back was towards her, so she could not see his/her face. From what she could see, the person had short, black hair; therefore he must be a male. Sizing up the boy's height, Hermione inferenced that he was about her age.

Crouching low, Hermione listened as he played the opening of a song and started to sing.

(Why are we still friends? By 98 degrees. Sorry to those who don't like this song.)

We do almost everything that lovers do.
And that's why it's hard, just to be friends with you!
Every time your heart is broken by the fool,
I want you to know that it hurts me too.
It's hard to wipe your tears away

Knowing that you should be with me.
Now tell me why,

Why are we still friends?
When everything says:
'We should be more than we are.'
And tell me why everytime I find
Someone that I like,
We always end up just being friends.

Hermione couldn't help but be surprised. This person can really sing! His perfect voice was right on pitch, and it seemingly merged with his rhymic strums.

I would hate for you to find somebody new,
Who you really love, cause it would mean losing you!
But am I a fool girl not to say:
If I'm always scared, I'll lose you anyway?
Somehow, somewhere I've got to choose!
No matter if it's win or lose!
Now tell me why,

Why are we still friends?
When everything says:
'We should be more than we are.'
And tell me why everytime I find
Someone that I like,
We always end up just being friends.

Hermione closed her eyes as she let herself get lost in the song.

I don't wanna be like your brother!
I don't wanna be your best friend!
I only wanna be your lover,
When will this end!?
If I told you that I wanna be in your life,
Then you could be the woman in mine!

Now tell me:

Why, why are we still friends?
When everything says:
'We should be more than we are.'
And tell me why everytime I find
Someone that I like,
We always end up just being

So tell me why,

Why are we still friends?
When everything says:
'We should be more than we are.'
And tell me why everytime I find
Someone that I like,
We always end up just being friends.

Why, why, why, why, why, why, why, why, oh why are we just friends?

Hermione opened her eyes. She realized that she was unconsicuosly swaying to the beat of the song. Her eyes flickered back to the figure, which seemed much more relaxed and carefree. Another breeze danced through the forest, tousling his messy hair.

'Wait a minute!' Hermione's eyes widened as her mind connected the dots. 'Could it be…?' Hermione shifted her position slightly, trying to get a peek of the singer's face. Unfortunately for her, her change in position caused her to step on a twig and making it snap. The guitarist quickly whipped around, and Hermione could have sworn she saw green eyes widen.

"Wait!" she exclaimed, bursting through the bushes. But it was too late. The stranger managed to escape, effectively concealing his identity with a Disillusionment spell or other methods. Hermione sighed and pouted slightly, disappointed that she couldn't catch the mysterious singer. Hermione sat at the exact place the 'stranger' was sitting and stared at the sky. She smiled as two birds fluttered in the air, never leaving each other's side. She was then hit with a sudden realization.

'Crap, I missed lunch!!' Hermione thought as she raced toward the castle, the tune of the song still bouncing within the depths of her skull.

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"So your favorite song choice was influenced by a random black-haired, green-eyed stranger's singing, am I right?" Ginny inquired, raising her eyebrows.

"Well, it could have been a dark brown instead of black," Hermione replied. Who was she kidding? She was certain that he had black hair and green eyes. She even had a good guess of who the "mystery" person was, but she'd be damned if she voiced her opinion.

Ginny nodded. "Uuhh-huh." She didn't look convinced. She did, however, seemingly accept the answer. "Ok…so…uh…how 'bout your favorite sport or activity?"

"Er…I don't have one."

"What!?" Ginny's eyes widened, "What about those Muggle sports? (Hermione shook her head) Chess? ("That's totally barbaric!") Well you have to like something!!"

Hermione inhaled and opened her mouth.

"And reading doesn't count! You do it as much as you breath!"

Hermione exhaled in a sputter. She sat back, thinking hard.

"Does doing schoolwork count?"

Ginny shook her head in disbelief. Was this girl even human!? "Oh, come on Hermione! Surely you have done something fun in your lifetime!"

Hermione looked insulted. "Reading's fun!" she huffed indignantly.

Ginny rubbed her temple as an idea popped into her head.

"Flying!" "Excuse me?" "Flying! Surely you've been flying once in your life…right?" "…Er…" "…..WHAT!"

Hermione cowered at her side of the couch as Ginny fumed. "You're telling me you've never flown on a broom before? EVER!?"

"Well, not a broom per say." Ginny calmed down…a bit. "What do you mean?"

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(I'm fully aware that this isn't what happened in the real book. I just made a few changes is all.)

"Come ON, Hermione! We have to hurry!" Harry hissed, grabbing Buckbeak's reins. Hermione was frightened. In such a short time, they both traveled back in time, hid themselves from themselves, saved a hippogriff's life, got saved by the hippogriff they saved, and saved themselves on multiple occasions. And despite all they have done, they still have one more thing in their must-do list, which just happened to be saving Harry's godfather that also happened to be falsely accused as a murderer. Maybe when they're done, they could stop for a spot of tea.

"Hurry Hermione, we don't have much time!" he repeated, studying the very window that kept his godfather. Hermione swallowed down her stomach. Great. Just great. Absolutely wonderful! Sirius just had to be kept up somewhere that is pretty much unreachable unless you fly, and they just had to rescue a hippogriff who was very capable of flying. Very capable indeed.

Hermione's eyes focused, snapping out of her fear-induced trance. Harry continued to hold out his hand, already mounted on Buckbeak. Hermione's shaking hand reluctantly grasped Harry's. She nearly whimpered as she settled herself behind Harry. She held onto Harry with a deathgrip, for he was the only thing that stood in the way between her and a thousand feet fall. Hermione buried her face into Harry's back and screamed as Buckbeak lifted off.

They were up high. Very high. Hermione continued to scream as the hippogriff bobbed up and down in the air. She was quite certain that she left her stomach behind. Despite all of this, she still refused to open her eyes. Hermione could feel Harry's muscles relax. "Relax!?!?" Hermione thought, "How can someone relax when you're up in the air with nothing but a chicken-horse to support you!?!?" Seems like Miss Granger is very relaxed as well.

Hermione continued to shut her eyes to a point that it hurt. In front of her, Harry whooped in glee. "Hermione, look!" Harry shouted above the howling wind.

"I won't," Hermione thought stubbornly, "I will never! No, no, no, no, and absolutely NOT!" The temptation was too great.

Hermione quickly sneaked a peek and gasped. Never before has she seen anything so…so beautiful and…so magical. Hermione stared, mouth slightly open, at the sight of the looming castle of Hogwarts. It was a miracle a bug didn't fly in. Never before, not even in the most detailed pictures in Hogwarts: A History, has she seen such a marvelous depiction of her home and school. But, then again, this wasn't a depiction. This was the real thing. Hermione, too entranced by the view, forgot all about her fear of heights. She never did snap out of it until they landed.

Harry dismounted and frowned slightly when Hermione failed to follow his example. "Hermione?" Harry inquired, waving a hand in front of Hermione's face, "Hello? We're sorta on a tight schedule, remember? Dementors? Azkaban? Dog-godfather?" Hermione's face flushed as she too dismounted. Right. Godfather in mortal danger. Right.

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"So, you're telling me that your first flying experience was with Harry on a life-or-death situation, right?" Ginny asked.

"Pretty much, yeah."

Ginny sighed. "And strangely enough, I'm not surprised."

"You shouldn't be."

Ginny stretched as she glanced at the clock. "Bloody hell, look at the time!" Ginny exclaimed, ignoring Hermione's scowl at profanity like many others before her, "I ask you three questions, and it takes you an hour to answer!"

"Well you're the one asking the 'how and why' questions," Hermione retorted. Ginny ignored her.

"Ok, one more question. What's your favorite color?"

"Green. Emerald green to be exact." Ginny blinked at Hermione's fast answer. Ginny arched an eyebrow. Green? Why on earth would she like green? Usually girls like blue, pink, or violet or something. Green is such a…boyish color. Ginny wracked her brain for an explanation. Hermione, who didn't have the ability to read minds, was quickly creeped out as Ginny's thoughtful expression turned into one with sudden realization, quickly followed by a rather evil grin.

"Greeeeeeen, aye?" Ginny emphasized, grinning widely. "Any certain reason why? Wouldn't happen to be because of something or someone we know, would it?"

Hermione turned pink. She never misses a beat doesn't she? "I-I have no idea what you're talking about," she insisted unconvincingly.

"Oh, I think you do," Ginny smirked, "You're making it quite obvious. I mean you? Green? Please, I'm not that stupid."

Hermione pouted stubbornely. "Why not? Green is a lovely color."

"U-huh." Ginny was still not convinced, and Hermione was starting got get anxious.

"Really! Green is a very lively, happy color. It's the color of grass wet with dew in the spring, the leaves that rustle in the breeze, and-"

"It's also the color of Avada Kadavras, lima beans, and bunny poo," Ginny replied bluntly, "Really, what's you're real reason?"

Hermione was getting flustered. "There's no reason! I just like green."

"Are you sure?"

Hermione snapped. "Yes! Harry's eyes have nothing to do with the fact that I like green!"

Silence. Ginny grinned mischievously. "Harry's eyes, Hermione? I don't think I mentioned anything about Harry or his eyes. Come to think of it, all of your answers seem to include Harry for some reason. Care to explain?" Ginny settled with a satisfied smirk. Hermione glowed red. She was safe from replying, however, as the clock stuck ten.

"Oh, look at the time! It's getting late. I really should be getting to sleep. Good night, Ginerva!" Hermione quickly chattered as she shoot up and escaped to her dormitories. Ginny just continued to sit in a smug manner and smiled triumphantly. Morning was going to be very entertaining indeed.

Three things were confirmed that night:

1: Eggs are not human eyeballs.

2: Even a tomboy like Ginny enjoys the ancient art of teasing friends.

3: The Weasley twins' newest products, Extendable Ears, are bloody brilliant…at least Harry thinks so! ()

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AN: Whew! Gosh, this took me a long time. I had this idea about a month ago! It would really warm up my heart if you took the time to review, even if it's only a few words. Thanks!