Work Text:
- 1:1 -
"There has to be a mistake."
"I'm afraid there isn't any, Ms. Granger."
"Surely you could do a recount?"
"We've already done a recount following the outcome of the tie, Mr. Potter. But the scores remain exactly the same."
"B-but that can't be! There has never been a tie for top mark before!"
Minerva McGonagall frowned at the two students in front of her. Both were looking at her with such distraught expressions on their faces as they clutched the parchment bearing their scores.
It was mid-December and mid-term examinations had just ended to make way for the Christmas holidays. There was a chill in the air and snow was already on the ground. The castle was in full, festive spirit, though one would think someone had died by the look on these two students' faces.
It was true what the sixth-year girl had said. Never had there been a tie for overall top marks in the history of Hogwarts before and what a very long history that was. Usually, it was pretty clear which student earned the first place. More often than not, and much to Minerva's disappointment, it was a Ravenclaw who claimed the top spot.
But not this year, and not for the past five years either. Ever since Harry James Potter and Hermione Jane Granger started school, the coveted place meant only for the best student of Hogwarts had been in contest.
It was almost as satisfying as it was annoying. Satisfying for Harry Potter was a Gryffindor, and Minerva really liked beating Fillius in more things than just Quidditch. It's very pleasing to announce that a Gryffindor had trumped a Ravenclaw on an assignment or an exam. No disrespect to Ms. Granger, of course, but house rivalry was house rivalry and Minerva was a very proud Gryffindor.
It was also annoying, for the two students in question were very passionate people. Frustrated sighs, snide remarks, sassy comments, and even full-on fights would occur when one upped the other. The competition between the two students was intense and all of Hogwarts felt it. No student or teacher liked to get in the crossfire when Potter and Granger were going at it like cats and dogs.
Minerva's frown deepened and her hands went to her waist. She straightened her back even further and regarded the two students with hard eyes and a fierce determination on her face. Potter and Granger stopped glaring at each other long enough to give her their full attention. Minerva McGonagall was not one to be ignored when she took this stance.
"There's a first time for everything," she began sternly as her head swivelled from left to right to look at the students standing five feet apart. "We have done our due diligence and have determined that you two are, in fact, tied."
The sputtering and the indignant cries followed. Minerva internally rolled her eyes and made a mental note to have a stern chat with Albus and the other heads for ways to lessen this ridiculous rivalry.
"Enough!" she cried and the thick, accented brogue cut through the squabbling of her two star students. "You two will accept this outcome whether you like it or not. If I hear anything more about this, both of you will be getting detentions. Do I make myself clear?"
Minerva McGonagall wasn't above making threats.
Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, with great difficulty, clamped their mouths shut. They tore their heated gazes from each other and gave the professor stiff nods.
Minerva nodded back, her lips pursed. "Now, I will see you during tonight's feast where you both will be getting an award. Good day, Mr. Potter, Ms. Granger. And well done." She turned on her heels and walked out of the Transfigurations classroom.
The room she left behind was sizzling with intensity. As soon as the sound of her footsteps faded into nothingness, the wooden door of the classroom suddenly slammed shut by no visible force.
He had witnessed wandless and silent magic from his rival before, but Harry still found it impressive. He wasn't going to tell her that, though. Harry faced Granger with a raised eyebrow and waited for her to speak. He may not be friends with her, but he had known her long enough to know that she wasn't going to let this go so easily, despite what his head of house said.
"So," the girl in front of him began in a voice that was so distinctly Granger's that there was no other way to describe it. "I think it is best if you politely refuse the award."
Harry snorted for he wasn't expecting that. He burst out laughing while she stared at him incredulously.
"I'm serious!" she cried. Harry watched as she frowned, her lips forming into that pout he had come to know very well over the years. Her eyebrows scrunched and her brown eyes blazed in his direction. Her chest rose in a huff and she exploded. "You got your mark because of Divination, for Merlin's sake, and we all know that's not a serious subject!"
"Just because you don't have the gift doesn't mean it's not serious, Granger," Harry said easily. She expelled a ragged breath of disbelief and he smiled inwardly. He loved getting on her nerves. "And it's not just Divination. Don't forget that I did better than you in Defense, Care, and Potions too."
She bit her lower lip and he knew he got her there. Still, he waited, for six years of being around this short, smart, and fiery girl had taught him that she did not give up easily. Hermione Granger was determined and she would do anything to get to her goal.
"Technically speaking, that's true, you did," she admitted pensively. "However, I was the better student overall. You start your assignments on the day they're due!" she said, aghast.
"Due today, do today," Harry replied as Granger huffed. "And having perfectly normal procrastinating tendencies does not mean you are superior to me. I am much better than you in many things."
It was her time to snort. "Oh really?" she asked sarcastically. "In what?"
"Flying, for one," Harry said while holding up a finger.
"You're Quidditch captain," Granger replied with a roll of her eyes. Of course he would be better than her at flying. That one didn't count!
"Cooking is another," he added while holding up another finger.
"Lies," she said as she shook her head. "I've spent a lot of time in the kitchens helping the house elves and they've all said my cooking is wonderful."
Harry smiled. "I know, I've seen you." She looked at him oddly but he continued. "But they said the same to me. Also, I'm more charismatic."
"Says who?" She cried in incredulity.
"Basically everyone, even the ghosts," Harry replied with a grin.
She rolled her eyes again. "Just because you have a nice smile doesn't mean you're charismatic."
"So you think my smile is nice then, eh?" Harry watched her cheeks redden slightly but she only pursed her lips further. He grinned and knew he got her there. He couldn't stop riling her up so his next few words came out before he even gave them much thought: "Also, I know I'm a better kisser."
"What?! How can you possibly-"
But her words were cut off when he closed the distance between them with long, quick strides. His lips were on hers in an instant, while one of his hands found its home in her curls. His lips were gentle but his kiss was heated. She felt the warmth in her scalp and in her toes, though she felt immobile with surprise.
Was this really happening to her? Was she really kissing Potter?
It ended as quickly as it began. He was suddenly away from her again and she stood there breathless. Her lips were slightly parted though their redness hinted at what they had endured. He looked at her with blazing green eyes and said, "That's how I know."
She narrowed her eyes. Potter was playing dirty again for he had completely surprised her. But no matter, Hermione Granger was not about to give him the satisfaction.
It was she who closed the gap between them this time. Both of her hands wound around his neck to bring his head towards hers. She saw his eyes widen and she felt a bit smug inside. She didn't have enough time to revel in the delicious pleasure of seeing his surprise since her eyes soon closed when their lips touched.
It was even better than the first kiss they'd shared just seconds ago. There was familiarity this time with both parties equally as eager. Hermione felt a shiver go down her spine when Harry's arm curved around her waist. She tightened her hold on his neck and pressed her body closer to his. He gasped and Hermione Granger, with great dexterity, took this opportunity to poke her tongue inside his mouth. They duelled and she won.
They broke apart when the need for air became too dire. They looked at each other with their chests heaving and their cheeks flushed. Hermione wet her lips while Harry grinned.
"I think we can call this one a tie?" he suggested as he ran a hand through his jet black hair.
"I'll agree with you just this once," she replied with a curt nod.
His grin widened. "And if you ever need someone to practice with… you know, to get even better…" He watched the side of her lips twitch as she tried not to smile.
She gave another stiff nod. "I will let you know," she said briefly. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've kept Padma waiting long enough at the library." She hesitated for a bit, and added: "I'll see you at the feast tonight?"
He nodded wordlessly and watched as she picked up her book bag from the seat at the very front and slung it over her shoulder. She looked at him again, her cheeks much redder this time, and gave a small wave. His eyes never left her form until she was out of his sight.
Alone, Harry smiled to himself. He certainly wasn't expecting this to happen when McGonagall asked the two of them to stay behind after class. He stood by himself in silence for a few seconds before he also picked up his book bag. He was supposed to meet Ron in the common room fifteen minutes ago.
He walked out of the Transfigurations classroom with a light hop in his step. He had a feeling that this tie was one of the best things to ever happen and he couldn't wait to see Hermione Granger again.
After all, practice makes perfect. And if there was one thing he and Granger would agree on wholeheartedly despite their rivalry was that they were both perfectionists.
Besides, he couldn't let this draw go on for too long.
- 2:1 -
She couldn't quite place who instigated it.
They practiced.
And they practiced a lot.
It turned out both of them were staying behind for the Christmas holidays so there were a lot of opportunities for them to practice without too many prying eyes.
Though, if someone had asked either of them, they would say that they were snogging each other's brains out purely because of the need to win. Neither Harry Potter nor Hermione Granger could accept that the other was better at them at kissing.
"We really should stop this, you know," Hermione mumbled as Harry's kisses trailed up her jaw to suck on her earlobe. "What if we get caught? We're in a broom closet for Merlin's sake!"
She was appalled. She had always made sure to check broom closets during her prefect patrols yet here she was doing the exact same thing that had caused her to deduct house points from her classmates!
"Then admit I'm the better kisser," Harry said before latching onto her lips once again. He drew her even closer into his chest as her hands tightened their hold on his hair making it all the messier.
Admitting defeat was not in her plans, though his mouth and his hands were making it very hard to stay so confident.
He was a damn good kisser, dammit! He knew exactly when to push and pull. He knew when to bite her, when to lick, when to tease. He knew when to be gentle and when to be rougher with his kisses.
He knew exactly what to do to leave her a breathless, shaking mess.
"Have I told you that you taste a bit like pumpkin pie?" Harry mumbled against her lips.
She blushed and was thankful that it was too dark inside the broom closet for him to notice how red her face had gotten. "I had some right before… before you…"
Right before he pulled her into the broom closet outside of the Great Hall.
"It's my favourite dessert," he said, and he kissed her again.
It was sweet this time. His lips brushed against hers so gently like a butterfly landing on a petal. It was delicate; its intent not to dominate or devour but to taste, to savour.
It was a kiss that sent tingles down her spine.
He pulled away from her. He gave her a smile. "I hate to run, but I promised Henry and Holly that I would have a snowball fight with them after lunch," he said, referring to the two younger Potter children who also stayed in the castle for Christmas.
Hermione nodded her head. "It's alright. I'll… see you around then."
"I'd like that," he responded earnestly with a nod, his eyes glistening. "And this one's mine," he added with a grin. He looked at her for another second before bending down and giving her a soft peck on the lips. He pulled away and was out of the broom closet door before she could register what he'd said.
She stood in the dim room for a while before she smiled.
She would give him this round.
But not the next.
- 2:2 -
She saw him whilst out on a stroll of the Hogwarts grounds. It was early Christmas morning, just after breakfast, and most of the castle was still asleep. Apparently not Harry Potter though, since he took his position as Quidditch captain very seriously and was out practicing like he would usually do on Saturday mornings. Snow had begun to fall that night so all of Hogwarts was covered in white. Despite all of this, there he was up in the air above the Quidditch pitch perfecting his manoeuvres.
Hermione told herself that she was only watching him in case he ran into some trouble. Honestly, didn't he know how dangerous it was to be out flying alone during weather such as this? As brilliant as he was, he could be such a dunderhead sometimes. It would be a memorable Christmas for all the wrong reasons if Harry Potter fell off his broom and died. She was doing all of Hogwarts a favour by making sure an event such as that one wouldn't be written in Hogwarts, A History.
She sat up on the Quidditch stands thankful that she was a witch with knowledge of heating charms. She watched him fly as the snow continued to fall around him.
She had to admit that he was really graceful on the broom. It didn't look like was trying to fly, only that he was. He was in perfect control; he and the broom in perfect synchrony. He zoomed over the Quidditch pitch like a rocket, his body crouched low on the broom and a single arm outstretched in front. It was then that Hermione realized he was chasing after a snitch, and she soon heard an elated cry from above once he'd caught it.
As she watched, she felt this growing admiration inside of her. She wasn't keen on flying—an incident in first year ensured that—but she had always been aware of the mental and physical strength it required. It was only now, seeing Potter fly so freely in the air, that she started to truly appreciate it.
It must be such a thrill to be up there.
Potter must have realized he had an audience and she saw his broom make a direct beeline to her place in the stands. It took but ten seconds for him to traverse the full course of the pitch, and he soon was standing in front of her with his Firebolt clutched in his hand.
His hair was windswept, his cheeks flushed. He was clad in his winter Quidditch robes consisting of a woollen Gryffindor jumper, tight breeches, boots, and the signature hooded overcoat. He wore goggles instead of his usual glasses, though he had pulled them off when he landed.
Hermione thought that his eyes were startlingly bright as he looked at her. They showed confusion for a brief second before he gave her a smile. The corner of his eyes crinkled. The dimples on his cheeks appeared.
"Good morning, Hermione," he said, his baritone voice deep and husky from the cold.
She was silent, for she realized that that was the first time he'd called her Hermione. It had always been "Granger" before. She had never given it much thought in the past, since they had both always called each other by their last names. But now, hearing her name come out of his mouth, said so warmly even as his breath created little puffs of clouds from the cold, she realized that she really liked it.
When she didn't respond, Harry continued: "Merry Christmas."
His words jolted her out of her reverie and she acted on the overwhelming urge which had built up inside of her ever since she saw him flying that morning.
She launched herself into his arms. His eyes widened when her hand grabbed the back of his neck to lower his head into a kiss. She smacked her lips against his as she stood on her tiptoes to bring herself even closer to his warmth.
He was immobile with surprise. They'd been playing this game for the past week but there was something which felt different about this one.
For one, it was out in the open where literally anybody could see them. Their past dalliances were all in broom cupboards and empty classrooms; in dark corners of Hogwarts where no one would be the wiser to the heated competition between its two star students. He was okay with that, though he didn't really give a damn if someone saw them snogging each other's brains out. He thought that it was Hermione who wanted to keep this all a secret so he respected her wishes and he never initiated in public.
This kiss was also filled with urgency and need and want. Harry thought Hermione to be a great kisser as well, though she always had a strategy of sorts from what he'd experienced. She would start off slow and gentle, just testing the waters to see if he would respond (and he would, of course), before her kisses would get heated and he'd be so overwhelmed by her.
There was no testing the waters this time.
She kissed him and held nothing back. There was no nervousness on her part, just the need to be as close to him as possible and share one breath. Her lips were urgent and seeking, so soft and so damn warm against his cold ones. The feel of her lips against his, his body against hers, filled Harry with so much warmth and heat that he couldn't even feel the snow falling around them anymore.
His arms circled her waist. Her grip on his hair tightened. They parted for a second to catch their breaths, their chests heaving from the lack of oxygen. One shared look and a sort of understanding passed between them.
This was different.
This was no longer a kiss to win a competition. It was a kiss with no other purpose but to express their deepest desires.
And they were okay with that.
The urgency made way for soft, delicate kisses. She kissed his jaw, the curve of his lips, the snowflake on his cheek. He kissed the button of her nose, the top of her eyelids, her chin. Their noses bumped and they laughed, since some kisses were clumsy and they weren't trying to win this time.
This was different.
He laid his forehead against hers, the little clouds from their breaths combining into one. He thought that she looked so damn beautiful with her cheeks flushed and wild, bushy hair sprinkled with snow.
He had felt a tug in his heart when he saw her waiting for him at the Quidditch stands that morning. She was this bright, colourful thing amidst all the snow and he felt inexplicably drawn to her. In the seconds he flew towards her, Harry thought that he needed to not screw it up.
He didn't know then what it was, but that had changed.
"I have a proposition to make," he whispered, as he moved his head away from hers so he could see her fully.
Hermione looked him in the eyes and nodded her head, waiting for him to continue.
His hold around her body tightened and so did her arms around him. That hug gave him the courage to continue.
"I think that I want to put this competition between us to rest," he said slowly, as he watched the expressions on her face carefully.
"Oh," she breathed, and her eyebrows drew together in concern since if their competition ended, didn't that mean that she couldn't kiss him anymo—
"Because I want to officially ask you out," he continued in a rush. Her eyes widened. "To be my… girlfriend."
"Oh," she said again, eyes as wide as saucers.
"I realized that I kind of... really like you. You're so smart, and determined, and passionate. You keep me on my toes and I love every second of it. You make me want to be better. I know that we don't know each other all that well, but I would really like to get to know you better because I think you're amazing and I'm so attracted to you and I really like kissing you and..." he trailed off, inwardly cringing at his botched attempt at a confession. What in the hell was wrong with him?! He was usually so good with words, but this, this was just embarrassing—
"Okay," Hermione said, lips twitching as she watched him fight with himself.
He blinked, dumbfounded.
She giggled.
"Really?" He whispered.
She nodded her head, the snow falling off her curls.
"Really."
The widest smile curved on his lips. The arms encircling her waist tightened to draw her closer. Snow fell on her face as one of his gloved hands gently grabbed hold of her chin to tilt her head up.
Hermione's vision was engulfed with nothing but black hair, bright green eyes, blue sky, and white snow as he lowered his head to kiss her. Her eyes closed as their lips touched.
Their competition might have ended but something much more spectacular had begun.
Fin.