Disclaimer - This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
A/N - Inspired by the 2009 Melbourne Comedy Gala
Hermione was calmly sitting in her favourite armchair by the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room, talking to Ginny and occasionally waving her hand at the knitting needles clicking away beside her.
They were discussing Hermione's upcoming N.E.W.T exams, which she was utterly terrified of.
"You'll be fine, Hermione," Ginny assured her, automatically, attempting to dispel one of her friends' tangents. The brunette sank back into her chair, sighing.
"Well, I suppose they aren't for another seven months…" she mused.
"That's the spirit!" Ginny encouraged her, trying to get the seventh year to lighten up.
Just as the two girls began to relax, the portrait hole burst open.
"HERMI~ONE!" Ron whined, clambering into the room. "I can't find my broomstick!" he wailed, walking over to his girlfriend and his sister.
"Oh, well, where did you see it last?" Hermione asked, soothingly, as Ginny's eyes widened.
"Hermione. I need to talk to you. Right now," the redhead announced, stealing the bushy-haired girl away from her brother.
"What, Ginny, what is it?" Hermione asked, worriedly, as they ascended up the girls' staircase. Ginny hastily checked her room to make sure nobody else was there, pushed Hermione in and slammed the door closed behind them.
"Hermione, I think you and Ron are getting too serious," she said, a severe look crossing her face.
"Oh, don't worry, I know he's your brother, but-"
"That's not what I meant!" the sixth year interrupted. "Did you not hear him down there?" she asked.
"Well, yes, he was upset over having lost his broom, and you cruelly pulled me away before I could help," Hermione answered in annoyance.
"Exactly! Did you hear the tone he used? When do you think the last time he used that tone was?" she asked, frowning at Hermione's lack of comprehension.
"MO~M!" she whined, mimicking Ron's voice from earlier. "HERMI~ONE!" she repeated, seeing the dawning comprehension on her friend's face.
"Oh," Hermione muttered. "Oh dear…"
* * * * *
"Harry!" Hermione hissed, finally finding her friend walking down the fourth floor corridor. He turned around, about to ask her what was wrong, when she barreled him into an empty classroom. He looked around, an amused expression on his face.
"There sure are a lot of conveniently empty classrooms in this place, aren't there?" he mused.
"What?"
"Nothing. Hermione, what's wrong?" he asked, sitting himself on a nearby desk.
"It…it's wrong…" she started, wringing her hands together nervously.
"What is it? Did something happen?" he asked in concern, half rising to walk over to Hermione.
"No, not exactly…" she bit her lip. "It's just…well, before, when he came into the common room, he called out 'HERMI~ONE!' – yes, just like that," she informed Harry, who looked stunned at her imitation of his best friend.
"I don't see what the problem is," Harry said in confusion.
"Don't you see?!" she burst out. "The last time he used that tone was for 'MO~M!'" she informed, copying Ginny's earlier explanation.
"MO~M! I can't find my pencils! MO~M, Fred broke my toy! HERMI~ONE, I can't find my broomstick!" she continued, beginning to get hysterical. Harry looked alarmed.
"Whoa, Hermione, calm down, I'm sure it's not as bad as you think!" he exclaimed, flinching as she laid a hard glare on him.
"Not that bad?" she asked angrily. "He's beginning to see me as a mother figure! Somebody to look after him! I don't want that! You can't understand, I'm sure you and Draco have a perfectly equal relationship, but I don't want Ron relying on me!" she told him miserably.
Harry looked startled at her confession. "I'm sure if you just talk to him about it, it will be fine," he told her, patting her awkwardly on the shoulder.
"What am I supposed to say, though?" she asked him, looking up desperately.
He shrugged. "I don't know, I'm not the one dating him," he told her gently. In truth, he could see how this was bothering Hermione – being seen as a steady, doting figure rather than as a significant other would surely irritate him as well, but it was like she said, he and his boyfriend, Draco, wouldn't have that problem.
"This is your relationship, Hermione. It's just like when I tried to lock myself in the Room of Requirement permanently once people found out about Draco and I a few months ago – remember that? You told me what to do, but not how to do it. You need to talk to Ron," he told her, hoping that she would listen to him.
"You're right," she replied, a steady look coming over her face. "Thanks, Harry," she added, hugging him briefly before leaving the room, hopefully to talk to her boyfriend.
Harry sighed, looking after her retreating back. It was one Hell of a Saturday morning.
* * * * *
Lounging on Draco's bed later that night, Harry started rambling as Draco was going through his nightly rituals.
"You'll never guess what Hermione was worrying about tonight," he started, directly his voice to the open bathroom door.
"Is that so," the Slytherin replied, his words heavily cut off. Moisturizing, then.
"Yes, it wasn't exams or anything like that this time, which is a surprise," he continued,, listening to the sounds of running water.
"She was worried about how serious her relationship with Ron was getting, too much commitment, you know, that sort of thing," he explained.
"Pr'blm's wif th' Weas'l, then?" Draco asked, his words garbled around his toothbrush. Harry smiled to himself.
"Yes. I hope they work it out…I would hate for those two to break up; they're so great for each other. And it was such a silly thing she was worrying about too, you know?" he thought aloud. Running water again, Draco was onto his third task- shaving.
"That's lovely, Harry, you know how much I enjoy hearing about your friends love lives while you're in my bed," the blonde drawled. Harry smirked to himself.
"Yes, well, just thought you might like some conversation occasionally. You enjoy hearing about them? Why, Draco, I wasn't aware you had that side to you," he teased. A muffled curse word from the direction of the bathroom, Draco must have nicked his skin. Harry rolled his eyes, leaning back onto the pillows and staring up at the ceiling, waiting for his boyfriend to join him. He let his thoughts wander, before being jolted back to Earth.
"HA~RRY!" the whine came, and Harry sat bolt upright, his eyes flying wide open.