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A/N- I’d like to reinstate the warning I wrote in the first chapter: the characters are going to be somewhat out of character. I will have some in character moments here and there, but if something puts you off, that’s why. I’d also like to apologize for the wait. I seem to have encountered a brick wall with all of my stories, this one being no exception. Hopefully now that I have taken this small step writing will come easier to me now.
Chapter Three
“You insulted his restaurant?” Harry asked laughingly in his car about half an hour later.

“Oh stop laughing, you prat, before I hit you! It’s not like I knew it was his! Besides, it was awfully cheap of him to take me to a place his parents owned and not pay a cent. In fact, I’m rather glad I found out early on instead of being led on.” Hermione snapped.

"Uh-huh. So glad you had to sulk in the bathroom until I came. He didn't even put up a fuss because I'm the bloody boy-who-lived and intimidating!" Hermione snorted. Harry ignored her and continued, "And then while he was talking to me, you then decided to run to the car without even saying goodbye! I'd say I told you so. Or rather, I looked you so."

"Fine, you were right for once. Now stop gloating, and hit the pedal! I want to go home." Hermione was in the mood for a hot bath, a good book, and maybe even a piece of chocolate. Or a whole box. Hermione had self control when it came to a lot of things, but not chocolate.

"No." Harry said simply.

"No?" Hermione growled. Harry was in danger zone, and only the fact that he had rescued her from the restaurant kept her from doing something like strangle him.

"If the half eaten plate and your stomach complaining is any indication, you haven't eaten much. We're going to get you something to eat." They were going out? Hermione wasn’t in the mood right now.

"I do have food at my flat, you know."

"Aww, but what's the fun in that? C'mon, how often do you get an intelligent, sexy, brave-"

"And modest."

"man cook for you. See? Even you think that, as your lack of snorting means anything."

"And how are things on planet you wish?"

"You don't know how much that wounds me, 'Mione." he retorted, drawing out the syllables of the nickname she hated so much. Well, actually, she didn't mind it as much when he called her that, but she would never admit as much. Harry's head was big enough as was without Hermione's help.
Still, Hermione accepted his offer, but only because it involved a home cooked meal and not a restaurant. Even though Harry had a place of his own, he accepted Mrs. Weasley’s offer of staying with her for a few weeks. It somehow felt good to keep the tradition going. He didn’t want to intrude in Mrs. Weasley’s kitchen, so instead of taking her back there he took her his flat.

Hermione sat on the couch taking in her surrounding while Harry banged pots and pans around in the kitchen. Even though this wasn’t her first time in Harry’s flat, it never amazed her how quickly he managed to make the place look lived in. His enthusiasm made sense though, what with him never truly having a place of his own. Hogwarts was all well and good, but the dormitory wasn’t truly his. The décor was simple and comfortable and had a mix of both muggle and wizard objects. He had a leather couch that, if you pushed a button, would pop, allowing you to lie down. Hermione felt tempted to do so now, but resisted. There was a coffee table in front of her littered with various Quidditch magazines, and there was a TV as well as a stereo system (with quite the impressive ever growing CD collection). The walls were covered with pictures: a combination of school pictures of the trio, his parents and the other marauders, and his favorite Quidditch teams.

“Do you need help, Harry?” Hermione called out after hearing him drop something and swear loudly.

“Nah, I’ve got it completely under control. Why don’t you pick out a movie from the drawer and we can watch something while we eat.”

“Well, if you’re sure.” Hermione got up and browsed through his movies. Most of the movies were total guy movies, the kind with lots of explosions and action, something she definitely wasn’t in the mood for. Unless it was Daniel being blown up. Well no, she didn’t mean that. She didn’t want anything bad (or too bad, rather) to happen to him, she’d just prefer not to see him ever again.

Fifteen minutes later Harry came over with two steaming hot bowls of…

“Macaroni and cheese?” Hermione asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Judging from your dinner choice you seemed to be in the mood for pasta, and this isn’t just any Macaroni and cheese. It’s my special home made macaroni and cheese.”

“It’s delicious!” Hermione said with a bit of surprise after taking a bite. She knew Harry was a good cook and everything, what with having to cook for the Dursley’s, but she still wasn’t expecting how good it was. Her own cooking skills were nothing to be proud of, though they weren’t anything to be ashamed of either.

“So what movie did you pick out?” Harry asked after a few minutes. Hermione held up Ferris Bueller’s Day Off with a sheepish grin, and Harry grinned back at her before popping in the movie.

“When I was a girl, on the few days I had to take off from school because I was sick, I would always watch this movie. Though it’s rare, occasionally Americans get something right, movie-wise.” Hermione revealed. “My favorite line was always Pardon my French, but Cameron is so tight that if you stuck a lump of coal up his ass, in two weeks you'd have a diamond.’ Even though that’s not really accurate because to create a diamond you need”



“Shut up and watch the movie.”

And so they did.

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