Hello everyone! This is my very first fanfic that I have ever let anyone else read cuz the others were all too crap. Even though I bet that all of you hate to read these words, please REVIEW!!! It would mean so much to me to get all of your opinions on my story, and even if you think it's crap, please tell me ways that I can improve so that next time it may be a little better! Anyway, please read on and don't forget to R/R! luv y'all, hugs etc. xox

Set: In the Three Broomsticks

Seated at a table in the corner of the Three Broomsticks were Harry and Hermione, pink-cheeked from the cold wind outside, and accompanied by several large and bulging bags – they had been Christmas shopping, but Ron had been unable to come due to excessive amounts of homework due in the following day. At Hermione's insistence he had stayed behind to complete it, but only on the condition that his two friends brought him back an early Christmas present. The two afore mentioned friends were now searching the menu in the hope of finding something warming but not too expensive, having spent practically their very last galleon.

"I'll get the drinks then, shall I?" said Harry.

"Sure," said Hermione.

"The usual, then? Butterbeer?"

"Yeah, whatever."

"OK. Back in a tick."

As he walked to the counter to talk to Madame Rosmerta, Hermione sat deep in thought. She ran through her mind all the things she had bought on today's shopping spree. It really was very good of Harry to accompany her to Hogsmede; she knew how much boys were supposed to hate shopping, particularly with female friends who had a tendency to stop and gaze into every shop window and reply to the question, "why are you looking in there cuz none of it's nice/suitable/affordable?" with something along the lines of "because it's interesting" or "why not?" or "I might find something I like" or, worst of all, the response to which there is no rebuke, "because girls like to do that sort of thing." She really appreciated Harry and Ron when they did things like that – just accept her whims and play along with them. (not that they did that terribly often. Mostly they just laughed and went off to play Quidditch or something like that, and left her to her own devices. Once they had gone, Hermione always felt a little lonely, though she wouldn't ever even dream of admitting that to either of them.)

"Heya. Whatcha thinking about?" asked Harry, returning laden with two butterbeers and a bowl of some small sticky fruit things that Hermione had never seen before. "Reckon we've bought every thing we need?"

"Yeah, I reckon so."

"Cool."

There was a long pause.

"Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"What do you think R …" she trailed off.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Oh."

Another even longer pause. Both of them looked around everywhere except at each other and took large slurps from their tankards, Harry because he had nothing else to do and couldn't think of any thing to say, and Hermione because she had too much to say and couldn't think of any way of saying it and so filled the silence by drinking.

Hermione put down her tankard with a clunk slightly harder than she meant to. Some of her butterbeer slopped out over the sides. Harry looked at her slightly surprised; it really wasn't like Hermione to be clumsy. He stared at her questioningly, eyebrows raised.

"Sorry, Harry."

"Don't worry," he hastened to reassure her. "I just wondered why …?" he stopped and glanced at the little puddle of spilt butterbeer on the table between them and then looked back at Hermione's blushing face and frowned slightly. Why was she blushing? I didn't say anything embarrassing did I? What is she thinking about?

Hermione was in a state of mental crisis. She really had to get this off her chest, but couldn't quite believe that she had to say this to Harry, who, however nice he was, was undeniably a boyand she really wasn't sure how he would take this.

"OK … Harry … doyoupromisenevertoletanyoneelseknowwhatiamabouttotellyou?" said Hermione, incredibly quickly.

"Uh… sorry?"

Harry was so confused. What was it Hermione was trying – rather unsuccessfully - to tell him? Hermione was normally one of the most verbally able and fluent of speakers. What had come over her all of a sudden?

Hermione took a deep breath. "Will you please try not to tell anyone else any of what I am going to tell you?" She looked at him feeling terribly embarrassed, and saw that, to her surprise, he looked amazingly compliant to her request and seemed ready to take whatever it was she wished to confide in him to the grave.

"I find this incredibly hard to say, but for some time now, I have felt rather differently about a certain person… who you know well…" she paused, waiting to see his reaction.

A reel of people flashed through Harry's mind, rather like a muggle slideshow, some fading in and wooshing out, others flashing, but none of them seemed to be possible candidates for the subject of Hermione's sudden confession. Harry assumed that the person she was referring to was someone who she had a crush on – Harry knew from rumours that girls had a tendency to behave this way when they had a crush, but he had never really imagined himself being the person that anyone would run to for counselling.

"This person is… well, I mean that he… " Aha thought Harry, it's a boy. So she has got a crush on someone. I wonder who?

Hermione ploughed on. "It's someone you know extremely well, in fact."

Harry's mind gave a jerk. The mental slideshow stopped on a picture of Ron. Ron, his best friend for so many years. Ron, also Hermione's best friend for many years. Ron, who was currently sitting innocently (well, as innocently as any of the Weasley boys could be expected to be) alone in the Gryffindor common room. Ron, who thought that Hermione was still going out with Viktor Krum. Ron, whom Harry secretly had suspected for some time now actually fancied Hermione anyway, and whom Harry knew was insanely jealous every time that Hermione received a letter from Krum and read it incessantly, scrutinising every last word. It had to be him.

Now that Harry thought about it, it all made sense. He had noticed, without really noticing, only the other day that when Hermione had tripped on the corner of one of the invisible steps and staggered into Ron, he had grabbed her elbow and held her slightly longer than was absolutely necessary and made a great show of checking that she was alright. Hermione had turned surprisingly red but Harry had dismissed it as the result of their running up the staircase to get to Transfiguration. And a couple of weeks ago at breakfast just before the Gryffindor quidditch match against Ravenclaw, Ron had been late arriving, and Hermione had been fretting about him fainting in midair, when Ron had appeared and Hermione immediately started doling out croissants and toast with jam onto his plate before Ron had even sat down.

Harry thought, then said carefully, "and this… person, do you know if he feels the same way about you?"

"Well, that's just the thing," said Hermione, going pink again. "I don't."

"Oh. And I'm guessing that this person is –"

"What?! You know who it is? Does he know?" interrupted Hermione, rather frantic, and she gripped Harry's hand suddenly, jerking his tankard and causing more butterbeer to slop onto the table.

"Hey, cool it, Hermione." Harry carefully replaced his tankard on the table and looked Hermione in the eye. "Yes, I think that I do know who it is, but as far as I can tell, he is completely unaware of your feelings for him. " He paused to give Hermione some time to calm herself a bit. After a minute, he fixed her with a firm eye and continued, "but what YOU may not know is that he loves you too."

There you go. The first chapter of my first fic done. Please please please review now? I'll try to update sometime, if I get reviews. Thanks in advance to those who review for me. xoxox