DISCLAIMER: the usual, I don't own any of it, unless I introduce my own characters, which I might.
AN: This is an experimental HP fanfic that is set during the sixth year at Hogwarts. It is an exploration of the characters rather than the good vs. evil plot of HP, so let me know what you think.
Chapter 1It was a cold afternoon in November as Hermione made her way to class. She walked along the cold, stone slabs of the corridor that lead to an hours lesson she was dreading. Since the beginning of term back in September, Hermione had been battling with ambivalent feelings towards a friend who she knew would never feel the same about her. And to make matters worse, this particular lesson she was paired with him for a whole hour, thus giving her hormones a roller coaster ride of a lesson. She couldn't reason why she felt this way, one of life's mysteries she supposed. But this conclusion didn't make her feel any better, she was still in love with her best friend.
The walk from her dorm to the dungeons took about fifteen minutes, depending on how fast one walked and whom you met on the way. That day Hermione didn't pass anyone she wished to talk to, so arrived ten minutes early. Professor Snape, the Potions teacher, wasn't there yet so Hermione hovered in the doorway rubbing her hands together to keep them warm. Cold hands meant fumbling with the equipment, which consequently meant slower work, a thought Hermione couldn't even contemplate. She stamped her feet on the stone floor and wiggled her toes inside her shoes. Cold feet didn't slow the work down, but they made her miserable doing it.
"Cold today isn't it," a voice said behind me.
"Sorry?" she asked, breaking her thoughts to see who had spoken.
"I said, 'cold today, isn't it?'"
"Weather comments aren't really the height of conversation, Ron," Hermione replied.
"Why not? Observation about our climate is important."
"Of course they are," she replied, rolling her eyes as she turned back to staring at the door. She couldn't deal with Ron today; it upset her that she was beginning to find his company more annoying than enjoyable, but she couldn't help it. Whenever Ron was around, Harry hardly noticed her, if only to ask questions about homework, but when Ron wasn't there, Harry paid attention to what she said and why she was saying it.
"What's up with you then?" Ron asked.
"Nothing, I'm just tired."
"Yeah, all that sleep you get every night must be exhausting."
"Are you waiting for the door to open by itself Miss Granger, or has common sense deserted you?"
Hermione started at the sound of Professor Snape's voice and hastily muttered a reply before opening the door. Her classmates filed through after her, each taking their seats and getting to work immediately. They all knew the assignments as they were working on the same thing until Christmas; creating a potion from scratch that would in some way be helpful to others. It was a blank page to begin from, but as 6th years they were expected to have that knowledge. Harry and herself were working on a potion to alleviate the pain of misery. A challenge, they realised, but a potion that could temporarily stop someone feeling miserable, even just for an hour, they felt would be beneficial to the wizarding, and muggle worlds.
"Sorry I'm late," Harry said breathlessly as he sat down beside Hermione. "I had to lock up the Quidditch cupboard after practice." Harry was caption of the team now, which he loved, but Hermione knew how much time it took out of his week. "What are you staring at?" he asked, noticing the faraway look in Hermione's eyes.
"What? Oh, I wasn't staring…I just…come on, let's get started," she replied, hastily averting her eyes. Hermione scolded herself silently; she had to stop doing that, but she seemed to have less and less control when it came to Harry.
The rest of the lesson passed fairly smoothly, except for a moment when Harry's hand brushed hers as they were reaching for ingredients. Hermione's heart skipped a beat and felt the blood rush to her cheeks. She hoped Harry had presumed she was just hot from the fumes of the potion.
"So are you up to much later?" Harry asked as they cleared away their table.
"Why?" she replied, hoping it meant he was asking her to do something with him, even if was just studying in the library.
"Well I'm trying to organise the Quidditch cupboard, it's a complete mess and I'd appreciate some help – many hands and all that."
"What do I need to do?" asking, frowning.
"Oh just help me sort through what we need and don't need – and tidy up. I asked Ron as well…"
Hermione, held her breathe, hoping he say what she wanted to hear.
"…but he's more interested in doing it the magic way, which I said wouldn't help because I wouldn't know where anything was."
Hermione saw the pleading look on his face and knew she'd never say no. An evening alone with Harry; if he knew what that meant to her…Hermione didn't' even want to think about that.