Hermione Jean Granger was having a rough day, to say the least. Snape was an absolute arse in class. Imagine! Docking 50 points from Gryffindor because Harry sneezed in class! Alright, so Snape was pouring a volatile ingredient into the cauldron that would yield disastrous results if overused. So maybe Harry’s sneeze startled the professor and caused him to dump the entire bottle in the cauldron, creating a highly unstable mixture that could explode. And maybe Harry sneezed a second time, knocking into Snape, who was behind him, and causing him to collide with the cauldron, yielding a massive explosion. It’s not as if anyone was hurt besides Neville, Seamus, Malfoy, Parvati, Crabbe, Pansy, and Goyle; and, of course, the Potions Master himself. His eyebrows were only partially singed off!

She huffed mightily and some of her fellow first years scampered out of her way. Hermione was scary when she was angry!

Suddenly, Harry rounded a corner and entered the hallway. “Hey, ‘Mione.” He grinned crookedly. “Is there any particular reason you’re huffing around the hallways like a rather moody hippopotamus?”

She glanced sideways at him. “Just angry at Snape is all,” she replied coolly. “I plan to complain to Dumbledore and force him to stop Snape’s blatant favoritism for the Slytherins and anti-favoritism for you.” She sighed deeply. “That accident wasn’t your fault, Harry,” she continued glumly. “But I bet Dumbledore won’t do anything about it. Again.” She had complained multiple times to the elderly Headmaster about Snape’s treatment of Harry and the Gryffindors in general. For some reason, he always insisted it was fine and sent her on her way with a customary lemon drop.

“Hermione, why even bother going to Dumbledore? You already know what he’s going to say, so why waste the effort?”

“Because I can’t just give up, Harry. You’re not a lost cause.” She looked at him seriously. “Remember that.”


Later, in the Common Room, Hermione regaled her tale of visiting the Headmaster with Harry to Ron. “Ugh! That man is so infuriating! Just blah blah blah this, and blah blah blah that, and ‘would you like a lemon drop?’” She rounded on Harry. “If that dratted old fool offers me that awful candy one more time, I’m going to saw off his head with a rusty hacksaw and drop-kick it through a Quidditch hoop!” she shrieked shrilly. She took a deep breath after her brief tirade and Harry looked at her like she was crazy. “What?” she asked breathlessly.

This seemed to be the straw that broke the camel’s back. Harry suddenly threw his head back violently and started cackling madly. “You-…” he gasped between laughs. “You actually - hee hee - tried to threaten bodily harm to someone!” He wiped tears from his eyes, still chuckling. He had seemed to have control over himself, but one look at Hermione’s face sent him over the edge into hysteria again.

“And…?” She cocked an eyebrow. If people would always react this way to her threats, she was in really big trouble.

Hermione! You’re absolutely tiny.” He held up two fingers an inch apart to demonstrate his point. “You’re even smaller than me, and I’m apparently under grown for my age.”

“So?” she responded. “I can totally beat your arse, Potter, and especially Dumbledore’s! He must be over 150 years old!” Harry gave her a look up and down, scoffed, and was about to reply when Ron interrupted them.

“Children! Children!” he declared in a rare moment of maturity. “You’re both equally tiny!” He smirked.

“Ah, shove off, Ron!” Hermione sneered at the intrusive redhead. “Just because you are freakishly tall doesn’t mean the rest of us should bow to your will.” She glared daggers in Ron’s direction, and he sheepishly proceeded to play with the tassel on a pillow he had in his lap. She and Harry looked at each other.

“I can’t believe we’re having a row about our respective heights,” Harry grumbled.

“Well you started it,” Hermione promptly retorted. “And you deserved it. You called me tiny.”

“I thought being tiny was a good thing for a girl.” Harry said, frustrated. “Women are too bloody complicated…” he muttered to himself.

“Well men are too thick to understand anything!” Hermione exclaimed. She and Harry glared at each other.

“Why are you two fighting?” Ron interrupted yet again. He seemed to have forgotten his latest put-down. “You lot never fight.”

Harry and Hermione glanced at each other confusedly. “Why are we fighting?” they both asked at the same time and Hermione then blushed profusely.

“Err… Well… You threatened Dumbledore, and I thought it was funny because you’re tiny, and you took offense to my statement about your diminutive size, and then it just sort of escalated form there.” Harry replied quickly and quietly. He didn’t want to provoke her ire again.

Hermione sighed. “I’m sorry I overreacted to your ‘statement about my diminutive size,’” Hermione said with a small smirk.

“And I’m sorry I insulted you unknowingly.” Harry replied.

“Friends?” They both said simultaneously, and Hermione blushed again. “Why does Hermione keep blushing like that? She looks rather pretty when she blushes...” Harry thought, but he quickly banished the thoughts from his mind. They hugged, and Harry was surprised by how much he enjoyed the hug. They kept holding onto each other longer than was necessary.

“Aww…” Ron broke in with a smirk. He seemed to be making a habit of interrupting them. “Are you guys going to kiss and make up?” He pretended to vomit behind one of the sofas.

“Ew!” Harry exclaimed at the same time Hermione said, “What? Ron! No!” They sprang apart. But as the Trio walked cheerfully to dinner, Harry couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to kiss Hermione.

The End

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