Struggled In Vain

She wouldn't get out of his head.

For all he tried his damnedest to ignore her, he couldn't. And by the time he'd finally given up on trying, by the time he'd recognized his efforts were futile, he was already in love with her.

And she hardly paid him any particular mind when they happened to share one another's company. Not, of course, that he could well blame her for her polite indifference. He'd hardly encouraged the connection when they first met and the circumstances of their next meetings where scarcely conducive to encouraging any sentiments of familiarity or regard.

He was relieved when Longbottom was called into town in the fall, allowing him to leave Hertfordshire for some weeks to clear his head. The problem was - it didn't work. Even with the plentiful diversions London had to offer, Mr. Potter's thoughts, and he dared say his rational mind, were still in Norwinton, Heartfordshire. If he had to guess, the object of his musings was likely walking the grounds of her father's estate, book in tow, at this very moment.

"Mr. Potter?"

Harry blinked and glanced up at Neville, trying to offer his friend a warm expression. "I didn't hear you return," he said. "I rather expected you'd be tending to your business for some hours yet."

Neville's cheeks pinkened slightly. "Yes, well, I should like to return to Norwinton as soon as possible. I've had quite my fill of town for the season, I think."

Harry felt his smile tighten. "Of course. Say the worlds, Longbottom, and I'll pack my things."

Neville fidgeted for a moment. "Would you be terribly opposed to leaving in the morning?"

Harry struggled to keep his patient smile in place. "Not at all," he lied. "You'd like to depart early, I presume?"

"Indeed, I do," said Neville. "If it's not too much to ask, of course."

Harry clapped his friend on the shoulder. "I'll start packing my things while I have a spare moment," he said, using the excuse to quit the room.

Neville's happy relief was enough to assure Harry that'd done the right thing for his friend. Whether he'd done the best thing for himself was another matter entirely.

He wasn't particularly looking forward to seeing Neville's stepsisters again. Nor was he particularly interested in being forced to enjoy the society of the Weasleys, but if doing so meant he'd see Miss Granger, then he'd suffer those irritations a thousand times over if he had to.

"A letter's come, Miss, from Gryffindor Hall…"

Hermione tried not to appear too surprised by the tray being held out to her by the servant, quite aware of her parents' curious eyes as she set down her cutlery.

"Thank you," she said warmly, noting that the letter was indeed from Gryffindor Hall and neatly sealed with the Greengrass family crest.

She broke it open carefully. "It is from Daphne Greengrass," she said for her mother's benefit as she skimmed the daintily penned message. "Her stepbrother and Mr. Potter are to return to Gryffindor Hall in two days' time. She invites us to dine with them on Friday, as well as a preliminary invitation to a ball her brother plans to host at some point in the next month or so. She promises to give me more concrete details on the subject when her brother has made up his mind… And her sister, Astoria, will be quite delighted to see me again, she says."

Her mother's only response was a happy hum, which made her father snort and reach for his tea.

"My dear Mrs. Granger, for all his modesty and happy manners, you know as well as I do that Mr. Longbottom shows little more than companionable regard for our Hermione. And while I'm proud of you, my love, for making such well-connected friends, I'm certainly not going to persuade you to try and marry this young man just because your mother thinks you ought."

Mrs. Granger turned towards her husband with a frown pursing her lips. "Mr. Granger, I haven't uttered a word about Hermione attempting to secure Mr. Longbottoms affections! Not a single one, sir, and I'll thank you to remember it."

"Not aloud, perhaps," said Mr. Granger, winking at his daughter as he took a sip of tea. "But I know you far too well to not guess your thoughts on the matter, dear."

Hermione bit her lip to suppress a smile. "At any rate, even if Mr. Longbottom did fancy me, seven-thousand a year is hardly worth marrying a man I'm not in love with," she said. "He could have two thousand a year, so long as I liked him well, and I'd hardly notice a difference."

Mr. Granger chuckled while his wife looked across the table at her daughter, aghast. "Oh, what a speech to make over breakfast, my dear! I'll not hear it. The pair of you may tease me if you'd like, but I hardly have to acknowledge it."

Hermione shared a glance with her father as she refolded her letter and slipped it in the pocket of her dress. She grabbed a roll from the basket in the center of the table before she stood, curtsied, and declared her intentions to take a walk.

Despite taking a book with her to read while she paced the familiar route around her father's estate, Miss Granger found herself unable to stop thinking about the individuals whose society she would enjoy for the better part of the weekend…

"A ball?" Harry repeated. "Longbottom, we haven't so much as sat in a drawing room since our arrival and you're already thinking of hosting another ball?"

Neville shrugged, looking sheepish. "Well, I was thinking about our new friends here in Norwinton and most of them are quite partial to dancing and merriment. It seems only fitting to ensure there are no ill wills held over after our long stay in town by hosting a party."

Harry agreed, surely, but balls meant dancing. And there was only one woman in Hertfordshire who he'd be willing to stand up with.

It would give him an excuse to ask for a set or two…

It would also put him under the scrutiny of his friend and their companions if he refused to dance with anyone else…

"If you're certain," said Harry.

Neville grinned at him. "Positive."

Harry was certain a week had never gone so quickly. He'd seen the object of his torment twice since their return. Across both meetings he barely even had the chance to meet her eye and acknowledge her, let alone say more than a handful of words to her at any point. They'd hardly spoken. And the fact bothered him so much that he nearly resolved not to ask her to dance after all.

That resolve was shattered the moment he saw her standing across the room chatting away with Miss Weasley and Longbottom's stepsisters.

Like many of the young ladies present, her gown was pale, although the fabric had something of a pale blue tint to it that stood out amongst the sea of ivory and pink-hued gowns. An elegant pale blue shawl hung around her waist and over her arms, and although finely made, it was more of an accessory piece than functional enough to help ward off the early-winter chill.

Unlike some, who were quite aware of the weather outside, Miss Granger seemed content with her exposed shoulders and thin sleeves. And as he approached the group, he could hear Daphne Greengrass complimenting the way she'd styled and plaited her rich curls.

"Oh, Mr. Potter!" Astoria greeted, announcing his presence before he could do so himself.

He bowed his head. They curtsied. He tried to smile. "Good evening, ladies."

"Welcome back to Hertfordshire, Mr. Potter," Miss Weasley said brightly. "I was just telling Miss Greengrass how missed you and Mr. Longbottom were at the most recent assembly. We'd begun to worry you'd not return before Christmas!"

While Harry could admit that Miss Weasley had some pretty features, he was not as sold on her reputation as one of the beauties of the county. Although that might've had something to do with his preference for her neighbor.

"Some of us had begun to worry," Miss Granger said. He couldn't quite make out the undercurrents in her tone, but he thought she might be annoyed with Miss Weasley's rather blatant flirting. "Rest assured, sir, that there were also some of us who were more concerned with whether or not your Mr. Longbottom's business in town would be quite tiresome to resolve."

And to think he'd been dreading seeing her again.

"Just a few minor issues that needed to be resolved with his trade affairs, I believe," said Harry. "I'm certain he'll be quite grateful that there were some thinking of him…" He paused just long enough to note the befuddlement on the faces of the other three women, and when he returned his attention to Miss Granger, his smile was unintentional and effortless. "Forgive me, madam, but pray how is your family since we left? I see you are quite well."

"Aye, sir, my parents are both very well, thank you," she said gently. "I have no news nor changes to boast of in regards to Ashbourne, I'm afraid."

Harry noticed Neville drawing near and was grateful for someone that might allow him to speak to Miss Granger without the gaggle of ridiculous women watching on in shock.

"I recall your father mentioning that he intended to offer up a portion of his estate to allow some of the ashes to be cut and sold as timber," said Harry.

Miss Granger laughed, the quiet sound music to his ears after having gone so many weeks without hearing it. "Yes, sir. I believe he's negotiating with timber merchants all next week on the matter."

"Wise men will pay good coin for quality ashwood."

"Aye," said Neville as he joined them at last. "I'd be happy to offer my assistance, if Mr. Granger wishes. I sell some timber on my estates now and again. He's welcome to mention my name during his proceedings. I have a few acquaintances in the industry."

"You're too kind, sir," said Miss Granger, smiling warmly. "I'll pass your message to him when I cross him next."

Neville brushed away her thanks with his easy modesty and gentle manners, assuring her that it would hardly be neighborly of him not to offer his aid. Harry breathed a sigh of relief when he turned to Miss Weasley and his sisters.

With the ladies sufficiently distracted, Harry turned back to unusual creature beside him.

"Miss Granger," he began quietly. "I believe the band will be starting up soon. May I have the honor of dancing the first set with you?"

He hoped the tint of pink in her cheeks was a good sign. "You may."

He held out his hand and kissed her gloved fingers when she accepted it. When they joined the other couples making their way towards the open spot of floor near the band, Harry caught a glimpse of Daphne Greengrass' expression.

He didn't like Miss Granger just to slight the unbearable young woman, but her disapproval of his fair partner certainly made her all the more precious in his eyes.

"I thought you weren't one for dancing, Mr. Potter," she said. "At the very least, you've seemed mostly indifferent to the diversion at prior assemblies."

"I apologize for giving you such an inaccurate impression," he said. "I'm quite fond of dancing."

Miss Granger hummed thoughtfully, but waited to respond until the dance brought them close together again. "I'm made to wonder then, Mr. Potter, at why I've only seen you dance once before tonight despite your nearly perfect record for attending balls and parties."

Harry snorted softly. "And what conclusions have such musings brought you, pray?"

Her dark eyes were alight with a subtle sort of mischief that was unfairly captivating. "I suspect you can only have two motives for your uncharacteristic avoidance of dancing. The first, that you're very particular about your partners and would no sooner stand up with a woman you've found some fault in than you would intentionally discourage your friend from making merry. The second, that you're far shyer than anyone has yet to paint you, and dislike dancing with women you've barely met."

She paused as the dance took them too far apart to speak, though he was glad to let her carry on when the steps brought them near again.

"If the first, I should fancy myself flattered. And if I may be frank, Sir, I believe the first is the most accurate of the two. If the second, however, then I must wonder why the only other partner I've ever seen you take was Miss Astoria at your very first assembly."

Harry smirked, unconsciously whetting his lips before speaking. "You are…refreshingly sharp, Miss Granger," he said. "Although I hope you don't think me vain. I simply don't see the point in dancing unless one dearly wishes to. It seems odd to take half enjoyment of an activity with a partner whose company you don't care for when you can fully take advantage of an ideal situation with a proper match."

He couldn't read the look she gave him. "Indeed… I quite agree, Sir."

"And now what say you of my character?" he asked.

"I shouldn't know enough of it to pass judgment, Mr. Potter," she said. "I fear your somewhat peculiar nature is something of a puzzle to me. At first I thought you cold and somewhat taciturn. But you seemed to be opening up before your trip to town and now I'd even say you're perfectly amiable."

His expression fell. "Then you have my sincerest apologies, Miss Granger… Unlike my friends, I'm not as…predisposed to engage easily with those I scarcely know. I have a rather difficult time with tedious conversations and mindless gossip, which tends to make my conversing partners as scarce as the women I'll dance a set with."

Her lips turned up slightly. Her gaze was bittersweet. "I can hardly condemn you for a fault I share. And I suppose I should thank you for your carefully veiled compliments."

"I speak only the truth," he said. "Though I'd never discouraged you from anything that gave you a moment's happiness."

She gazed at him without saying a word until the dance ended, her features just barely showing her puzzlement. But when everyone applauded the musicians, her features schooled back into her usual polite smile.

"Would I be pushing my luck if I kept you on the floor a while longer?" he asked, swallowing tightly before he spoke again. "It's come to my attention that I've acquired something of a dancer's deficit."

He tricked a short laugh out of her and smiled.

"I'd be delighted to aid in making up such a grievous debt, sir," she said, her eyes shining again.

Harry's heart swelled with relief as the next dance started and she eased them into a comfortable conversation about literature that gave him a deeper insight into just how sharp she truly was.

If he hadn't been in love with her before he left for town, Harry was certain he was now.

"Oh, Mr. Granger, what a positively delightful evening we had," cooed a sleep deprived and perhaps still a bit tipsy Mrs. Granger over breakfast. "And, Hermione, my love, shame for not telling us you'd befriended Mr. Potter! And to think I'd fancied him a proud, unsociable sort of man when they first arrived."

"Mamma, please," said Hermione after a sip of tea. "He's merely a bit shy, a bit particular about those he spends his time with. I dare say we can forgive him for a few unintentional slights while got his bearings and tried to figure out with whom he might have an intelligent conversation."

"Aye, my dear," said Mr. Granger dryly. "And now we know much more of his character than we ever did. For starters, he's clearly intelligent himself, as he certainly found the brightest girl in the county to spend his time with. And we know he's a man of good taste, because upon finding said girl, he resolved to only dance with her for the entire evening. I dare say the eldest Greengrass girl was quite vexed by it all. Which further proves his good judgment."

"Mr. Granger, how can you make light of such a thing!" said Mrs. Granger. "You ought to do your duties for your poor daughter by inviting both Misters Potter and Longbottom to Ashbourne in the spring and summer for shooting."

"And why, pray, would I do such a thing?" asked Mr. Granger. "Just because the young man gave my daughter his undivided attention for an entire evening? With little regard to what those of his party undoubtedly whispered amongst themselves, nor with much care for how it'd look to everyone else present? My dear Mrs. Granger, you seem to think he's all but made her an offer."

Hermione glanced up sharply at her father, who, for all his appearances to the contrary, was good and well aware of how…peculiar Mr. Potter's attention had been at the Gryffindor Ball the night before. But Hermione also knew he couldn't resist an opportunity to rile her poor mother.

Before Mrs. Granger could come down on her husband with the fury of a woman gullible enough to believe a sonless father would take any risk of his only daughter not making a good match, a servant came up to the master of the house and gently cleared her throat.

"The post's just come, master. A letter from a Mr. Lupin in London and an express's just come from Gryffindor Hall, addressed to you, Miss."

Hermione's knife slipped in her hand as was she buttering her toast and clattered against her plate unpleasantly. She stared at the tray, and the letter, for a moment too long before she quickly set down her meal and wiped her hands.

"Thank you, Hannah," she murmured, squinting at the penmanship. "This isn't Miss Greengrass' handwriting…"

She popped the seal, ignoring the overly excited noises from her mother, and read:

Dear Miss Granger,

I felt it prudent to share this news with you myself, rather than leaving the task to my friends at Gryffindor Hall. By the time this letter reaches you, I shall already have quit the house. For how long, I do not know.

I received a letter this morning with urgent news that calls me home to Potter Manor in Derbyshire. The business itself should scarcely prove problematic, but my presence is needed in order to make a resolution come about sooner.

I admit to you, my only true friend in all of Hertfordshire except for Mr. Longbottom, that I am most displeased to be leaving again so soon. Although I would like to see my younger brother and sister again.

Mr. Longbottom, Miss Astoria, and myself had hoped to call on you this morning so we might all walk to Norwinton together, and I regret that I will be unable to do so now.

I hope, madam, that you do not think me too forward for amending the invitation I would've extended this morning by making it known that Potter Manor is open to you and your family should you have any plans to travel in the coming year. I believe Mr. Longbottom and his stepsisters intend to stay in Norwinton for the winter, but should you feel enticed by the beauty of the northern country that I detailed quite thoroughly last evening, I would be honored to have your company for Christmas.

I sincerely hope that I will be able to leave Derbyshire before spring's end. Excluding my siblings' company, I doubt I'll have another decent conversation until we meet again. Unless, of course, you would do me the honor of writing on occasion. I would be most grateful for a pleasant letter to occasionally appear amongst business correspondence.

Yours unwaveringly,

Harry J. Potter.

Hermione bit her lip to suppress a smile when she found a postscript with the proper way to address letters to him in Derbyshire.

"Well?" urged Mrs. Granger. "Who's written you if not Miss Greengrass?"

Sparing a loaded glance towards her father, who was already hiding a knowing smile behind his teacup, Hermione neatly refolded her letter. "It's from Mr. Potter."

Mrs. Granger's squeal of delight was shrill enough to make her daughter wince and dramatic enough to allow her to pass the letter to her father without the exuberant woman noticing.

"Come now, child, don't tease me so," cried Mrs. Granger. "What did young Mr. Potter have to say?"

"That he was called away on urgent business," Hermione said carefully. "Something to do with his estates I'd wager. He left this morning for Derbyshire."

"I do hope it's nothing to do with his siblings," her father muttered as he read the letter. "Estate business can be trying, but so long as there's nothing risking his family…"

"Indeed," Hermione said quietly. "He believes the soonest he'll be able to return would be spring or summer."

"Spring or Summer!" Mrs. Granger cried. "Oh were fate ever so cruel! And here I was certain he'd make her an offer by New Year's!"

"Well," said Mr. Granger. "He's made her an offer, just not of marriage. He's invited all of us to spend Christmas at Potter Manor, if we so wish, and we're welcome to visit whenever we like otherwise."

Before his wife could complete her switch from depressed to ecstatic once again, he added, "Although I do think I've already made up my mind on that matter. I say we escape the inevitable company of the Weasleys by accepting his offer of joining him for Christmas. Then, my dear, to satisfy your wish that our dear daughter do all she can to secure his affections —if, of course, she's of the mind— then we return to Hertfordshire without her and Mr. Potter can send her back whenever he pleases."

Hermione snorted, but turned away to hide a faint blush all the same. "Papa, really."

"If nothing else, my dear, you'll get to meet your siblings-in-law and see the manor you might soon be mistress of," her father teased.

"It's a perfect idea!" Mrs. Granger agreed. "Oh, Mr. Granger, I knew you'd come 'round."

"Yes, yes, my dear," said Mr. Granger. "You've swayed me quite effectively, I dare say. My opinion of the man certainly doesn't stem from how obviously smitten he is with my daughter nor how very able he'll be to take care of her as a husband."

"I feel it necessary to point out that neither of you asked if I even liked him," Hermione muttered.

"You didn't dance with anyone else, dear!" her mother cried.

Her father, on the other hand, looked at her until she met his even gaze, then raised a brow. "One word of opposition my dear and I'll write to respectfully decline his invitation this minute."

She looked away again. "He's quite intelligent. And amiable."

"And handsome," chimed Mrs. Granger.

"And conveniently rich," drawled Mr. Granger. "Though I know my dear 'Mione cares naught for his riches. Only his character and temperament could sway my girl. So, tell me then, my love. Would you like to spend Christmas surrounded by the beautiful northern country?"

Hermione felt her cheeks burning. "I should think I shall."

Mr. Granger smiled and sent her a playful wink over his teacup as he slid her letter back towards her. "Then I dare say he'll get far more joy if the letter of acceptance comes from you, my love."

"Thank you, Papa," she muttered.

"Don't thank me yet," he warned. "For all we know the younger Mr. Potter and Miss Potter will be the most unbearable of siblings. Or his drawing rooms won't measure up to your mother's standards. Or, lord forbid, I learn he's nary interested in fishing or any other proper gentleman's sport."

"He's partial to billiards," she offered.

"Damn him," said Mr. Granger. "Fine then. If I'm invited to play, and he's so terrible that I manage to beat him, then I rescind my preliminary blessing."

Hermione laughed and tuned out her mother's cooing frivolity until she finished her meal. Then she stood to leave.

"If you'll excuse me," she said demurely. "I have a letter to write."

Dear Mr. Potter,

I admit to being rather disappointed to learn you'd already left Gryffindor Hall, but if your business in Derbyshire is truly so urgent then I pray your travel was swift and that you arrived home in safety.

I should've liked to walk with you all to Norwinton if you'd been able to call, but I appreciate the sentiment all the same. My father wishes for me to inform you that we would be delighted to join you at Potter Manor for Christmas. I'm quite curious to see the county for myself and how lovely it should look when it snows, if indeed your descriptions were not exaggerated.

And, as you can see, I'm quite willing to write to you while you're away. Although I'll see you in a few weeks' time if you'd still like to have us for the holidays. Please inform me when our arrival will be most convenient for you so that I may relay the details to my father.

I sincerely hope that your unpleasant business matters are less awful than you expected them to be, and that they resolve quickly.

Yours,

Hermione J. Granger

"Brother…you've been smiling at that letter for a full three minutes, at least."

Harry blinked and glanced up to find both his siblings watching him. His brother, Dorian, was clearly amused at his expense, while their sister Roslyn was merely sharing his happiness even though she'd yet to learn the cause of it.

"Is it from Miss Granger?" Roslyn asked hesitantly.

"Well, who else could it be to make him smile that like?" Dorian asked. "She's all he's talked about aside from business since he came home, at any rate."

Harry glanced at the letter again, then took a drink of tea. "She and her family will be joining us for Christmas."

A tiny squeak came from Roslyn before she clapped her hands together in delight. "Oh, brother, she does like you."

Dorian snorted. "I'll judge that when I meet the woman, thank you. Few women wouldn't kindly accept an invitation from a single man who makes over fifteen thousand pounds a year without trying."

Harry kicked his brother under the table. "She doesn't know the particulars of my situation, thank you. Most of Norwinton assumed I made about the same as Neville. And I already told you that we were scarcely friends until Neville and I returned from London, which was after I realized how much I admired her."

He stared pointedly at Dorian.

"She's not your average woman, Dori, and I'm quite fond of her. You'll use the manors mother raised us with while Miss Granger and her parents are with us or you can spend Yule elsewhere."

Dorian studied him for a moment. "You're in love with her, aren't you? You said you liked her, that you were friends, but you love her."

Harry sat up a little straighter. "Very much. And if she's your sister before summer, then I challenge you to meet a happier man than I'll be."

Roslyn reached across the table and took Harry's hand. "You said she's fond of walking? I do hope she likes the grounds."

Harry smiled tightly and gently squeezed her fingers. "I hope she doesn't wish to leave."

There were several inches of snow on the ground as the carriage came into sight down the lane. The servants who were left to watch for their master's guest's arrival began to scatter and scuffle about, donning cloaks and preparing to greet the young lady who, according to whispers in the halls, had quite ensnared their master.

When they saw him quickly making his way down the main staircase, dressed in one of his finest green coats, the staff were further convinced of the validity of such happy gossip.

Young Master Dorian and Miss Roslyn were quite amused by their brother's nervousness, and also noted that he'd worn a coat that they all knew brought out the green eyes he shared with his sister. Dorian had inherited their father's eyes, but shared an indisputable likeness to his brother and their late father, rather than getting an even split with his mother's likeness, as their sister had.

"Take care, dearest brother," Dorian said quietly as the three made their way down the front steps to meet the approaching coach. "If you faint at the sight of her she'll be far less inclined to accept your suit, unless of course she falls madly in love with the estate itself, and is willing to put up with a ridiculous husband in order to stay near it."

"Dorian, hush," Roslyn whispered and Harry shot his brother a quick glare. "You'll be kind and not tease him so. For if you should scare her away, I doubt our brother would ever forgive you."

"I wouldn't," murmured Harry as the coach doors opened.

He greeted Mr. and Mrs. Granger warmly, although he was somewhat unprepared for the latter's exuberance, especially given the fact that the entire party had been traveling for nearly three full days.

He heard rather than saw the coach's opposite door open and shut, followed by quiet footsteps on the gravel drive.

"-and oh, where is that girl! Honestly, only she could disappear at such a moment!"

"Please, be calm, Mrs. Granger," said Harry. "I wouldn't dream of taking offense if Miss Granger did vanish thusly."

He quickly directed the coach master to one of the servant doors nearby so his staff could begin unpacking their luggage. Once it had pulled away, he could see Miss Granger standing some yards from them and peering out over the rest of the property.

Harry fought to keep his delight from showing too plainly. "Forgive me, Mr. and Mrs. Granger. If I may introduce my brother and sister, Mr. Dorian Potter and Miss Roslyn Potter. Dorian, Roslyn, Mr. and Mrs. Granger."

He slipped away while the four shared pleasantries, joining the object of his affections.

"Welcome to Derbyshire, Miss Granger," he said warmly.

She startled out of her reverie, seeming surprised to see him. "My goodness, how rude you must think me, Mr. Potter."

"I'd be rather disappointed if you weren't enchanted enough to forget your manners for a moment," he teased. "Nevertheless, I am neither offended nor convinced that your sense of propriety has dimmed. I am happy that you've arrived safely, however. Now, pray tell me, were my praises of the grounds exaggerated?"

She breathed out a laugh, the white puff of air reminding him that it was quite cold outside. He hadn't noticed, but it seemed his companion didn't mind either, despite her pink nose and cheeks.

"No, Sir, you did not. I would credit you with doing it as much justice as any man might've in your place. There simply aren't strong enough adjectives to capture the beauty of it all," she said. "It's absolutely breathtaking. I think I'm grateful for your invitation thrice over now."

Harry grinned. "It was made for purely selfish reasons, I assure you. Though I am quite glad to have given you such enjoyment in the process."

He wasn't certain, but he could've sworn her expression was fond. His chest was tight with hope.

"Would you be horribly cross with me for pulling you away?" he asked, though he loathed to do so. "I'd never forgive myself if you caught ill and I'm quite certain my siblings will revolt if I don't introduce you soon."

She chuckled as she took his proffered arm. "I suppose I can forgive you for such a transgression, given the circumstances."

He quickly introduced her to his siblings, both of whom welcomed her warmly and were almost too-perfectly behaved given the circumstances. When they all moved into the house to get away from the cold, Dorian shot him an intense look. Harry returned it with a warning stare.

Roslyn, always more discrete than her older brother, managed to give him a brief smile while their guests weren't looking.

Harry could only hope that Miss Granger liked them as much as they liked her.

He led the Granger's to their guest rooms personally, saving Miss Granger's for last and trying not to appear too nervous as he opened the door.

His housekeeper, Mrs. Bagshot, trailed behind the group, her heart warmed by the sight of her young master so eager to impress his sweetheart. She'd spent the weeks before their arrival having linens and decorations replaced in the suite until her master deemed it perfect.

Pale blues and crisp whites made up the bulk of the color pallet. The adjoining drawing room was a similar style, only with pale greens thrown in as well. And she need only cross through said drawing room to reach one of the manor's smaller libraries. Harry had taken the time to make sure it contained several books he suspected would be to her liking on top of its existing collection.

"And of course, there will be several servants available should you have need of anything," Harry told the Grangers. "But, I should take my leave of you for now I think, and let you all get settled. Dinner is in an hour, I believe."

Hermione's eyes were brighter than he'd ever seen them when she smiled at him. "Thank you, Mr. Potter."

He bowed his head and left before he could say anything that might embarrass himself.

The Grangers had been staying with them a fortnight when Roslyn decided to address her eldest brother one evening after their guests had gone to bed.

"She likes you," she said quietly, so that neither the servants nor one of their guests could possibly overhear. "She's absolutely enchanted with the house and the grounds, Harry, but I truly believe she likes you."

"And I hope you're right, Rosie," he said softly. "But I'm not sure if she simply enjoys my company or if she truly does return my affections."

"Then how about we walk to the village tomorrow?" Dorian suggested, setting down his wineglass. "I believe the Grangers expressed a wish to stay in, but Miss Granger mentioned wanting to take a long walk, despite the snow."

Harry felt his cheeks warm. "I'd hardly know where to begin with a proposal, even if she agreed and I managed to have a private word with her."

"The truth would be a good place to start," Roslyn suggested. "Even if you struggle a bit, that should only assure her of your sincerity and the depth of your feelings."

"If the moment strikes," he muttered noncommittally.

His heart pounded when, over breakfast, his sister invited Miss Granger to join them on their walk, which she happily agreed to. Some of his nerves got the better of him once they were out of sight of the house, with Roslyn and Dorian leading the way while Harry and Miss Granger were a polite and reasonable distance behind them. He knew he was being too quiet, and mentally cursed when Miss Granger finally gave him a worried glance.

"Are you feeling alright, Mr. Potter?" she asked. "I surely hope this whole excursion isn't just for my benefit, at least! I'd be mortified if you were tormenting yourself for my sake."

His smile was tight. "I'm quite alright, Miss Granger, thank you. And I'd never dream of concocting such a plan, for I know you well enough to know you'd be quite vexed with me for doing such a thing. I am merely pensive this morning, it seems. My apologies. Was there something you wished to talk about? Perhaps you've finished your most recent literary venture?"

She squinted at him briefly, but let her suspicions drop. "Not particularly no. By all means, ponder as you please. I'm content as I am. There's plenty of beauty to take in, after all."

He watched her gaze travel back to the snow-covered treeline. Her features relaxed as she took a deep breath of cold air and sighed. Bright overcast light made the whole landscape look like a winter wonderland of sorts, and the woman beside him couldn't have looked more like she belonged there if she'd tried.

"Indeed there is," he said softly. "Indeed there is."

The four slipped into a ribbon and fabric shop when they reached the village, where Miss Granger was dragged away by his sister to compare their tastes. Dorian came up to his brother as they watched the ladies browse.

"We're in public," he said quietly. "Shall I drag my dear sister away so you two might have a few moments to yourselves without any lapse in propriety?"

"No," Harry murmured. "I think, if she's willing, I'll invite her to take a turn about the gardens with me when we get back to the manor. I should like to make my offer outdoors, I think."

"I'd hope she'll accept wherever you propose," Dorian muttered. "If she only accepts you for the estate, I'll be hard pressed consider her even half as dear to me as Roslyn."

"She's not the sort of woman to accept a man she doesn't respect and care for," said Harry. "I don't think you need worry about that."

"I'll be quite unhappy to see your heart broken," said Dorian. "So I sincerely hope you've judged her well."

Harry faked a smile when Roslyn came over to show him a bit of ribbon Miss Granger had picked out for her, claiming it went well with her hair and eyes. He assured her that Miss Granger was quite correct, then handed his sister enough coins to cover whatever she and Miss Granger picked out.

"Don't let her refuse," he told her. "I insist."

Roslyn winked at him before she skipped back to Miss Granger. He overheard her mention something about being blessed with two very amiable older brothers, which Miss Granger responded to with a smile.

"You'll make me quite envious," he heard her say. "Very rarely have I ever found myself wishing I had a sibling or two. A brother preferably, since there's no one to inherit my father's estate, but a sister might've been nice as well."

Roslyn gave her a doe-eyed look that both Potter men recognized, but it's meaning was lost on Miss Granger. "I should've liked to have a sister, I think," she said.

Harry's chest constricted painfully as Dorian sighed.

"Mayhaps you'll get one, Rosie," Dorian muttered.

Harry said nothing and spent the remainder of their outing trying to keep his nerves and twisting stomach from being noticed by his companions.

When they were in sight of Potter Manor again nearly two hours later, Harry summoned his courage and turned to his contentedly quiet companion.

"Miss Granger, would you be so inclined as to take a turn about the grounds with me?" he asked. "I find myself reluctant to return indoors just yet. I'm sure my sister would take your things in for you."

"I…" she began, her expression unreadable. "I think you know me well enough by now, Mr. Potter, to know I'm rarely inclined to deny spending time outdoors."

"I was counting on it," he admitted softly, breaking eye contact with her so he could call to his siblings. "Rose! Would you take Miss Granger's things inside, please?"

His siblings waited for them at the base of the steps, where Roslyn took Miss Granger's small bag of purchases with a smile. "It's a pity you haven't seen the grounds in spring," she said to Miss Granger. "It's even lovelier with the gardens in full bloom."

"Indeed, I'm sure it is," said Miss Granger. Her voice was off to him, and part of him hoped she was truly regretting not being in Derbyshire longer.

"You'll have to visit us again, I think," said Roslyn matter-of-factly. "If my brother pleases, of course."

"We'll see," said Harry, trying to will his sister back into the house with his mind alone. "I'm sure Miss Granger would like to spend time at home once they return to Hertfordshire. She can hardly do so if she comes back in two months."

Roslyn smiled and shrugged, turning away to go in the house without further argument.

Harry gladly parted from his siblings and leisurely led Miss Granger to the gardens. "Forgive my sister. Most of her companions live in town and she's quite taken with your company. Her youth hardly tames her exuberance."

"I find her manners refreshing," said Miss Granger. "Miss Weasley is one of the few women around my age in my acquaintance. While less…excitable than her mother, our temperaments don't exactly mesh well, Sir. Miss Potter has hardly offended me."

He opened the garden gate for her and latched it behind them. "I'm glad to hear it… You should know, however, that you are quite welcome in Derbyshire whenever you'd like. I simply didn't wish for you to feel pressured to spend so much time away from your family."

He was thankful that she was so enraptured by the barren snow and ice covered grounds. He could speak without worrying that she'd see his embarrassment or discomfort.

But he could still see her soft smile. "I shall be quite sad when we leave. Derbyshire is so very lovely. Besides, I think there are few women who worry about being away from home when they're given the chance. Miss Weasley went to Brighton in search of a husband last summer and I don't think she would've come home if she didn't know her father was expecting her return."

"Aye," he said. "And what of you, Miss Granger? Would you be content living far from home?"

She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment. "I don't believe I would mind, no," she said. "Though it would be highly dependent on where I ended up. Brighton and Sussex are a modest distance away from Hertfordshire, but they have little to tempt me into spending the rest of my life there."

Harry took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "And…would Derbyshire offer sufficient temptation?" he asked.

"More than sufficient," she answered absently, her eyes still on the trees. "It's so beautiful here. I'd be quite content, even if it is so very far north."

He smiled to himself. Her posture and nonchalance told him just how divided her mind was between this seemingly unfiltered honestly and her undying adoration for the landscape of his home.

"I shall be quite disappointed when you leave next week, Miss Granger," he said quietly. "And because of this impending disappointment, I fear I have a favor to ask."

His tone made her blink and turn to him again, her attention no longer split. He saw her worry, but her also saw her lips twitch into a nervous smile. "Did you not just criticize your sister for imploring me to return?" she teased.

He chuckled quietly. "I did," he said. "Or rather, I disapproved of her motives. I've yet to solidify an opinion on my own…"

For the second time in less than an hour, Harry willed himself to be braver than he felt.

"You surprised me, Miss Granger," he said softly. "I'd never met such a woman until I accompanied Mr. Longbottom to our first assembly at Norwinton. I admit that, at first, I hardly knew what to make of you. It wasn't until, after several more puzzling interactions and being separated from you while in town, that I realized I'd grown to admire you. And you must know that, especially now, I consider you as dear a friend to me as anyone."

"I should hope so," she said with something of a forced half-laugh. "If you treated all your friends this kindly I'd be quite suspicious of your goodness."

"I'd certainly never wish you to be suspicious of my favor," he said. "In fact, if you'll let me, I'd be honored to spend the rest of my life assuring you of my adoration. I…scarcely have the words to express how deeply I've grown to care for you these last few months… Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

She blinked at him, silent just long enough to make his heart pound. "I…would like that very much, sir," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. The slight tremble of her lips made him worry further.

"Miss Granger…?" he began.

She shook her head and laughed, despite the tears that had formed in her eyes. "Forgive me, sir, it's just that…well. I never thought you would've liked me beyond friendship, is all. I am…happily surprised, I suppose."

"How could I not?" he asked, bewildered. "Indeed, I'm shocked that not one of the remaining Weasleys had snatched you up, when I realized how delightful you were."

Something in her expression made him wonder if his general dislike of the Weasleys more the result of a strong intuition than a difference in temperaments.

"I believe they found my interests too boring, my connections too similar to their own, and my general manner unsuited to their tastes, sir," she said. "And I…fully expected most men to share those sentiments, especially a gentleman such as yourself."

He reached for one of her gloved hands and pressed his lips to the back of it before holding it between his own. "I find myself decidedly unimpressed with their tastes, never mind their manners, which I wasn't fond of before now, I admit… I could not think of another woman I'd be prouder to have by my side."

He reached up to brush one of her errant tears away and smiled. "Shall we go inside, my dearest Hermione? I'd like to speak to your father."

She sniffed delicately and nodded. "You may benefit more from suggesting he play a game of billiards with you," she said, her expression amused but otherwise unreadable. "I think he'll gladly give his consent so long as you beat him."

Despite his puzzlement, Harry offered his arm and led his sweetheart inside. He hoped that his future father-in-law would make more sense to him by the time Harry made his vows, at the very least.

Thanks for reading!

And a special thanks to Uchiha_Bat for the prompt!