You Wouldn't Be You

Elf Hats

"I'm going to bed," said Harry. "Quidditch practice was really tough tonight."

"Oh good, if you're going, I can too without it seeming bad," Hermione chimed. "I want to make some more hats tomorrow before we head into Hogsmeade. Listen, Harry, you can join me if you like. It's more fun than you might think. And I'm getting pretty good now. I can do patterns and bobbles and all sorts. So, what do you think?"

Harry looked at Hermione, her expression earnest and hopeful. His instinct was to turn her down, but something in his chest made him hesitate, and a warmth that was born in his heart changed his words on the way to his mouth.

"Yeah, alright. I'd love to," Harry heard himself saying. Stranger still, he found that meant every syllable.

"Okay, great!" Hermione beamed, her eyes bright and flushed in her surprise. She clearly hadn't expected Harry to want to do this with her, and was simply elated that he'd stunned her by accepting the offer. The meaning behind that didn't sit well with Harry at all, so he was determined to be the best knitting partner Hermione could ever have wanted.

"What time?"

"Er, how does eight sound?" Hermione chanced.

"Early. But I'll be here," Harry smiled. "Night, then."

"Night, Harry," Hermione replied, her voice cloud-soft.

Perhaps it was knowing he had to get up so early, or perhaps it was his desire to not be a total dunderhead in the morning, but Harry slept only fitfully. He got out of bed at six-thirty, was dressed by seven, then decided to go down at quarter past before his restless pacing woke the other boys in his dorm.

To his surprise, Hermione was already up and waiting for him.

"You're up nice and early," Hermione smiled. "I didn't expect you for another hour."

"I couldn't sleep for some reason," Harry explained.

"Me, neither," Hermione quirked, cocking her head in a manner so cute that Harry actually ached a bit as he saw it. "That's strange, isn't it?"

"Very," Harry agreed. "Have you had breakfast? Shall we go down before we start?"

"Already thought of that," said Hermione brightly, gesturing to a stack of toast and a vat of pumpkin juice with two goblets. "I've been practising a Warming Charm on the toast, so it should still be, well, toasty! Juice?"

"Please," Harry grinned, sitting cross-legged next to Hermione.

They didn't speak much as they ate, and both seemed oddly keen to keep their crunching and chomping sounds to a minimum. As Hermione polished off her last slice of toast, Harry spotted a few crumbs clinging to her lips, which he noticed she had delicately glossed with a subtle pop of colour. It suited her, giving her lips a plumpness and moistness that Harry found he liked very much.

"You've got something ... just there," Harry pointed out, gesturing to the rogue crumbs.

"Oh, look at me! Can't take me anywhere!" Hermione laughed, licking the crumbs away. Harry's eyes were drawn to the momentary flash of pink that was her tongue, and the sight made him wet his own lips, but he had no idea why.

"All finished?" Hermione asked, whisking Harry's plate and goblet away. "Shall we begin?"

"Alright, what do I do?" Harry asked eagerly.

"Well, we have plenty of colours and shades," Hermione replied, pulling dozens of balls of wool from her bag. "Which would you prefer?"

"I think that we should follow the First Rule of Knitting," Harry cut across, thumbing through a number of already-crocheted hats and admiring Hermione's skill in making them.