Anything (Male Reader x Hermione)

It's a Date

The few days after the news of the breakout were fairly standard, except some students, who did not believe Dumbledore, were beginning to turn to him, and teachers, unable to talk freely in the teacher's lounge, began discussing the world's events in the corridors. Harry did not need much help with his manners, either, and (Y/N) had even gotten permission to have Hermione wear either nothing, lingerie, or her nightie. It had taken several hours of explanation for her to finally understand that he did not intend for her to sleep nude or in her underwear; it was merely a chip in the Ministry rules. During D.A. Meetings, (Y/N) helped the better students, namely Hermione, but there were a few others from time to time. Despite the other students' promises, none worked harder than Neville. Of course, (Y/N) knew why. His mother, his real one, had tortured Neville's parents. (Y/N) sat with Hermione; he was helping her with homework while Harry and Ron worked on their own. Harry told the group about how he felt he was worsening with his Occlumency lessons. "Maybe it's a bit like an illness," Hermione suggested. "A fever or something. It has to get worse before it gets better."

"It's lessons with Snape that are making it worse," said Harry flatly. "I'm getting sick of my scar hurting, and I'm getting bored walking down that corridor every night." He rubbed his forehead angrily. "I just wish the door would open; I'm sick of standing staring at it —"

"That's not funny," said Hermione sharply. "Dumbledore doesn't want you to have dreams about that corridor at all, or he wouldn't have asked Snape to teach you Occlumency. You're just going to have to work a bit harder in your lessons."

"I am working!" said Harry, nettled. "You try it sometime, Snape trying to get inside your head. It's not a bundle of laughs, you know!"

"Maybe . . ." said Ron slowly.

"Maybe what?" asked Hermione rather snappishly.

"Maybe it's not Harry's fault he can't close his mind," said Ron darkly.

"What do you mean?" (Y/N) asked, looking up from Hermione's parchment.

"Well, maybe Snape isn't really trying to help Harry. . . ." Harry, (Y/N), and Hermione stared at him. Ron looked darkly and meaningfully between the three.

"Maybe," he said again in a lower voice, "he's actually trying to open Harry's mind a bit wider . . . make it easier for You-Know —"

"Shut up, Ron," said Hermione angrily. "How many times have you suspected Snape, and when have you ever been right? Dumbledore trusts him, and he works for the Order. That ought to be enough."

"He used to be a Death Eater," said Ron stubbornly. "And we've never seen proof that he really swapped sides. . . ."

"Dumbledore trusts him," Hermione repeated. "And if we can't trust Dumbledore, we can't trust anyone." (Y/N) nodded in agreement.

"Even if Snape were opening Potter's mind, which I doubt, it would be pointless. It's already like someone left the door open with a welcome mat." The group looked at him strangely. "Look, the way my mother taught me Occlumency was that there are two layers, clearing your mind and suppressing only the thoughts, emotions, and memories that would contradict whatever you're trying to make a Legilimens believe. Luckily, you only need the first to succeed."

"You're an Occlumens?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, my mother thinks it's very important for all of us to be adept at it."

"And the Legilimency?" Harry asked.

"That was a personal endeavor," (Y/N) said, pointing to an error in Hermione's work.

"You can read our minds?" Ron panicked.

"That is a foolish way of describing Legilimency, Ronald," Hermione scolded.

"I can interpret the layers of your mind," (Y/N) explained.

"What's my biggest fear?" Ron asked. He and (Y/N) made eye contact.

"Spiders, especially Accromantula. You and your brothers stole a flying car? Potter had bars on his window? Stole the flying car again. Are you a fool? Why didn't you wait for your parents?" (Y/N) turned slowly to look at Hermione, who avoided eye contact. "You fangirled over Lockheart?" Hermione nodded, and (Y/N) made some gagging sounds before he cleared his throat. And looked in Ron's eyes for a few seconds before shutting them sharply. "Well, that's enough Legilimency. I did not want to see you abusing your owls," (Y/N) said, sliding Hermione's work back to her and pulling his own scroll.

"I'm never going to look you in the eyes again," Ron mumbled.

"I don't need to look any of you in the eyes; it just makes it easier. I am, however, uninterested in your memories, thoughts, or feelings. It is also rude to probe someone's mind without consent."

"Then what's the point?" Harry asked.

"In combat, you can know your opponents move before they make it. That's saved my life before."

January flew by for everyone except Hermione. She'd toss and turn every night and then refuse to answer questions about why she was so antsy. On the brighter side, Hermione did punish herself with lines several times. The night before Valentine's Day, (Y/N) caught Hermione writing lines out of the Apparation book on her own in the library. "Good evening, Hermione," (Y/N) said, sitting down next to her. Hermione squeaked and jumped. "I see that the Ministry is wearing you down."

"They are not," Hermione said defiantly.

"Well then, I guess I am." (Y/N) pointed his wand at a cup next to her and it filled with a bubbly golden liquid.

"What is that?" Hermione asked, looking at the liquid.

"Cream Soda."

"It tastes like watered-down Butterbeer," Hermione said, taking a tentative sip.

"I'll take your word for it," (Y/N) said sipping from the cup after Hermione handed it to him.

"You've never had Butterbeer?"

"No, I avoid alcohol like the plague."

"Are you going to ask me to stop drinking Butterbeer?"

"I'm just going to ask you to be careful." A long silence fell over the two, but (Y/N) broke it. "I'm not sure it's still a punishment if you're doing it on your own, but I'll ask anyway. Why are you punishing yourself?"

"I told Luna about the kind person you really are, and you never punished me for it," Hermione said, going back to writing. "I have also had a very stressful day, and this helps take my mind off it."

"Ah, so my little Muggleborn slave seeks bliss in her slavery," (Y/N) joked.

"Shut it," Hermione blushed and pushed (Y/N) softly.

"Come out with me tomorrow, Hermione," (Y/N) said softly.

"What?"

"I want to take you out on a picnic facing the Shrieking Shack while everyone is in town."

"On Valentine's Day?" (Y/N) nodded at Hermione's question. "Like a date?"

"Yes, a date."

"It'll be cold."

"You're a witch, I'm a wizard."

"Yes . . . I'd like that," Hermione said slowly, but her wand sparked a little with excitement.

"Excellent," (Y/N) said, a large smile spread across his face. "I'll see you tonight. I need to see if the elves will let me borrow the kitchen." As soon as he finished talking, (Y/N) swiftly walked out of the room.