A/N: Hey! I know I really shouldn't be writing this, but I couldn't stop the plot bunny from rearing is cute little head! Cough Sorry. So anyway, this just one of my more fluffy, un-adventurous, cuter stories. Fear not, adventure seekers, my other story has plenty of action in it. Go read that if you want adventure and a really long Harry Potter fanfic. As for this, it's not going to be super long, but it will be at least seven to eight chapters — I don't know because I haven't really planned it out yet. So enjoy, hope you like the plot, which is described below.

Plot: Harry and Hermione are forced to stay at Grimmauld Place for one month when dangers arise. The Weasleys are in Australia, Lupin is somewhere in Japan, and the rest of the Order are simply too busy to give a damn. Therefore, the two must fend for themselves in Sirius's old and creepy house in which may lurk anything from dust bunnies, to ghosts and goblins. Plus... will romance creep upon the two teens? Rumor has it they've already fallen madly in love... so why not back that fact up?
Disclaimer: I don't own the concept of Harry Potter. The only thing I own is the plot. So, don't sue! Oh, and since the plot is mine, don't steal it!

Chapter 1: A Side of Hermione Granger New To Me


The orange sunlight poured in through a crack in the closed and boarded window. It was the only source of light apart from the crackling fire which burned happily in the hearth.

"One month alone with Harry in Grimmauld Place? That's preposterous!" Hermione ranted. "Why? Why alone?"

Harry's thoughts had somewhat wandered. One month at Grimmauld Place? With Hermione? I should expect my homework to be done by Friday, then!

When Hermione said his name, he jolted back into the conversation.

"What?" he asked dumbly.

"Harry, back me up! We can't possibly stay at Grimmauld Place alone for a month!" Hermione cried.

After getting over the initial shock that Hermione didn't want to live with him, Harry added, "Y-Yes, yes! Of course we can't!" He thought about that statement for a moment. "Why not?"

Hermione smacked a hand to her forehead. "Did you not have your coffee this morning, Harry? Because to me, it seems as though you are still half-asleep."

Moody watched the conversation between the two hysterical teens for a moment before he finally decided to cut in. "Quiet! Both o' ya! Both Lupin and Shacklebolt thought Grimmauld Place would be the safest location for you, Potter... and since Weasley's in Australia, we decided to leave you alone. The Order's too busy to babysit you!"

"But... Mad-Eye," Harry began. "Alone? Isn't that a bit sketchy?"

"I don't understand what the problem is, Potter. Ya can't go back to them Dursleys, and Granger's house is a neon sign with an arrow pointing at it that says "Kill here!". You're platonic friends, isn't that right?" Moody asked. His magical eye swivelled in its socket as if daring Harry and Hermione to say no.

"Y-Yes, but..."

"Then it's settled. You'll move in tomorrow."

Harry and Hermione left the office awkwardly.

Hermione was first to speak. "Well... that was..."

"Unexpected? Strange? Queer?" Harry finished. He put his hands into his pockets.

"I guess you're my new roommate, hmm Harry?" Hermione asked, grinning.


Thunder was the sound that woke Harry up the next morning. Not sunshine, not Aunt Petunia and not Hedwig.

"Maybe it's a sign," Harry muttered. He turned over, landing his rear on the cold wooden floor of his bedroom.

"Get down here, boy!" Aunt Petunia's shouts floated upstairs.

There's the old banshee, Harry thought bitterly. He didn't feel that falling out of bed and then getting yelled at was a very good beginning to his day.

Harry got dressed, then made his way downstairs.

The Dursleys weren't too happy about the fact that Moody was to pick him up that afternoon. What they didn't know, is that Moody would be picking him up from Mrs. Figg's house.

What they don't know, they'll find out soon enough.

"I want pancakes! A full stack!" Dudley Dursley, Harry's (most likely) obese, whale-of-a-cousin said as he waddled into the kitchen.

"Ham, eggs and toast," Uncle Vernon said from behind his newspaper.

"Same for me," Aunt Petunia added.

When Aunt Petunia had finally realized that Dudley's diet was doing nothing for him, she'd given up and the family went back to their original eating habits.

In the midst of frying the bacon, Harry's forearm came into contact with the rim of the pan and scorched his skin.

"Agh!" he said, holding his arm in pain.

Aunt Petunia reprimanded him for being careless.


"Um..." Harry began to say later that afternoon. "Mrs. Figg called me over for tea. Moody's going to pick me up from there."

Uncle Vernon grunted.

"See... you... later?" Harry mumbled.

"Take care of yourself... don't get yourself killed like your wretched mother and that Potter," Aunt Petunia said.

Was that a sign of concern? A sort-of, kind of, not really sign of concern?

"Will do."

Moody was late in picking Harry up.

So, Harry sat in the house that smelled horribly like cats and cabbages for an extra twenty minutes.

At promptly twenty minutes past one, there was a knocking on the door of Mrs. Figg's home.

The next thing Harry knew, he was holding a very worn shoe with Hermione by his side and they were Portkey-ing out of Little Whinging.

They landed in a dark, dingy alleyway which reeked of garbage among other things. Moody was standing a few feet away with his infamous bowler hat shadowing his face.

They walked out of the alley, trunks and belongings in hand, and found themselves in the midst of Grimmauld Place.

Number Twelve Grimmauld Place... Number Twelve Grimmauld Place.

In reciprocation of his wishes, The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black squeezed itself between Numbers Eleven and Thirteen Grimmauld Place right before their very magical eyes.

"That still amazes me to no end," Harry said.

He was a tad bit nervous about entering the old house. It had been a full two years coming before he'd finally set foot in Sirius' humble abode.

They walked quietly through the grungy, dispiriting hallway so as not to wake the horrid portrait of the racist Mrs. Black. Harry didn't think that the portrait would be too happy to find out that Hermione was staying in that very house for a full month.

Once they stepped into the equally dismal drawing room, Moody grunted, "Someone'll stop by from time ta time to check on you runts."

Harry nodded in understanding.

Moody made his exit through the fireplace, after Hermione set it ablaze.

Harry dropped onto one of the dingy couches and heaved a great, loud sigh which caught Hermione's attention.

"What's up with you?" she asked, and sat down on the coffee table in front of him.

Harry sighed again, then replied. "Hermione, we're stuck in a grimy, grungy, dark house for a month. Alone. We can't even leave — not that I ever could go anywhere alone, except for the park in Little Whinging... what a nice little park that was, but the swings were broken —"

"Harry, you're rambling, dear," Hermione sighed.

"Right, thanks," Harry mumbled. He wrung his hands nervously, not knowing what else to say. To make small talk, he asked, "You're staying —"

"In the same room I always do, Harry."


Hermione clapped her hands together suddenly and stood up.

"What do you want to eat? I'm hungry," she said.

"I'm fine, thanks. I'll take our stuff upstairs. I'll put your's in your room," Harry answered.

Hermione looked thoughtful a second. "Leave Crookshanks down here. I'll have to let him out. The poor thing's been confined in that contraption all day!"

Harry nodded. He grabbed the handle of his and Hermione's trunks and started trying to pull them upstairs.

"Need help?" Hermione asked, obviously amused.

Harry mock-glared at her. "No, thank you, Hermy."

Hermione 'humph-ed', crossing her arms and turned her back to him.

Harry was surprised at this. It was a side of Hermione he'd never seen before. Truthfully, it scared the living daylights out of him. After all, he had to deal with it for a while.

He decidedly dropped the trunks and walked up behind her.

Harry put his hands on her shoulders and whispered, "Sorry," before turning back around to begin heaving the trunks upstairs again.

He heard Hermione groan behind him, before the trunks he was dragging were picked up from the other end.

Harry turned his head around to find Hermione looking downward with the handles of the trunks clutched in her hands.

A/N: The beginning, I must admit is a tad bit dark, but it lightens up starting next chapter. Now, I have to warn you, that my writing style's always been slightly dark, so I'm trying my best to make this as non-dark as possible, but bear with me if it's dark. Okay? Thank you! Please, R&R!!! By the way, this story takes place one month before seventh year, hence the reason Harry's nervous about #12 --- he hasn't been there since Sirius died. Waaaaaa!
Next Chapter: Why Harry can't stay with the Dursleys is revealed. Plus, Kreature makes his first appearance after two years! And, a bit of thunder scares a certain Miss Granger.