Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter NOR any of his friends NEITHER any of his enemies. It's hard to admit, but when I'm done with them all, I have to return them to Joanne K. Rowling in an original wrapping and unharmed. I make no money, I mean no harm.
The Importance of Being Short-Sighted
It had taken Ernie two weeks to swallow his pride and admit his feelings to himself. He had needed one week extra to realize he was going to do something about them. The rest of the month, he had been persuading himself to actually ask Hermione for help.
Finally, he had got a splinter of wood in his palm. It had hurt like hell and he had plucked up courage to turn to her. Hermione had agreed to help him, and that had consequently led to this situation with Ernie standing in front of a mirror and Granger rolling her eyes at him.
"I don't know. Do I look better in this green shirt or that grey one?" he turned to the poor girl. She didn't snap just because of that scared and unsure look of his eyes.
"Honestly, Ernie. You're going to let Harry get to know you better, he has already seen you. You - will - talk to him. It's not about looks."
"I'll take the green one. It would match his eyes nicely," Ernie decided. Hermione sighed. She had the advantage of knowing about Harry's little crush, but didn't feel like sharing the knowledge. "Now, what about my hair... do you think..."
"Ernie, Harry's short-sighted," Hermione interrupted. "If you get the feeling he doesn't like your looks, just take his glasses and kiss him, okay?" Ernie's eyes widened, but he nodded.
The empty classroom was illuminated by dozens of small candles floating in the air (thanks to Hermione). There was a small table covered with a cloth Hermione had conjured. Ernie had picked a pair of chairs fitting in the image and Hermione had charmed them clean and comfortable. Hermione had also somehow managed to arrange for a real dinner awaiting them at the table.
In short, Ernie had found out he should have made friends with Hermione ages ago. She could solve anything.
"Ernie." Harry's voice startled him and he turned nervously to meet the boy of his (recently wet) dreams.
Harry's eyes travelled appraisingly up and down Ernie's body. "Wow, you look..." he started and Ernie's nervousness took over.
With one swift movement, he threw Harry's glasses aside and lunged himself upon Harry.
Needless to say, the dinner got cold without any of the boys ever noticing it.
A/N:Thanks Oscar Wilde for inspiration when it comes to the title. And the pairing. Well, let's just praise Oscar Wilde.
Wow, my very second slash and I actually managed to put some story behind it. So please, let me now whether I should take this path again.