Yoo, hoo! New chapter! I really had fun writing the chapter after this one!

Chapter – 3

"Ron."

The said boy winced.

"Say to Harry that I'm not coming for Hogsmeade."

Ron scratched his head then turned to the broad shoulder pose Harry took whenever he was brooding. He looked at Hermione, then Harry, and sighed.

"Erm… Hermione said that-"

"Ron," Harry said aggressively, "Say that it's okay if she doesn't comes. We can have fun without her."

Hermione looked at Harry venomously, "Ron, say that I just don't want to go with him. I am going with someone else."

Harry glared at her with more venom, "Oh, really? Ron, say that she could snog the bollocks out of him for all I care!"

Hermione's eyes brightened. She blinked back tears.

"Oh… Ron, say that-"

"I'm not your owl!" Ron roared, already fed up and making the two jump, "Look, stop fighting alright? It's been four days already! It doesn't suit you two. Only me and Hermione are supposed to fight."

"What kind of rule is that?" Both of them said together, and then glared at each other. Hermione looked hurt when she looked at Harry.

"You didn't mean that – what you said earlier. And what makes you think it's a boy?" She said quietly.

Harry just glared, and then went back to sulking mode.

Hermione blinked, whatever emotion was there a second ago were hidden from the world's view as she picked an impassive expression. The expression that always used to drive Ron crazy.

Still does.

"Okay." She said calmly, smiling at Harry – it was more of defeat than a genuine smile, "I got to go, get ready."

"Who are you going on a date with?" Ron said, sparing a glance at still brooding Harry and looked at Hermione.

"Malfoy." Hermione said with a blush, "And it's not a date – we're just going out as friends."

Ron was still staring at her with mouth agape as she sauntered upstairs to her dorm. No. Way. Malfoy. Malfoy?

He walked back to Harry.

"Harry did you hear what that mental woman just say!?" Ron said incredulously. Harry scowled at Ron.

"She's not mental and yes, I heard what she said. Let her do whatever she wants. It's not like I'll miss her." Harry said angrily. Ron slapped his forehead.

"It was just a kiss Harry." Ron said slowly, like talking to an overemotional toddler, "It's not like she did anything to make you that angry."

"I know." Harry sighed, and then frowned, "You know what she said? She implied that it was a mistake. And she could have kissed anyone else and it won't embarrass her at all."

Ron raised his eyebrows, "So?"

"SO!" Harry got up suddenly, making Ron back away a few steps, "So! I just said I'm not sure whether I wanted it! She said she did it on a sodding dare! It was unfortunately me! She said she didn't really want to kiss me, and that she would have better kissed someone else!"

"I don't understand why you are angry about it." Ron mumbled.

Harry laughed mockingly, "You are thick Ron, that's all."

Ron turned red, "No Harry. You are the thick one. You know, you just sound like you want her to snog you and you don't want her to snog anyone else! And it's Hermione who said that. Most probably she didn't want to embarrass you! That's why she said that you GIT!"

Harry's wild expression suddenly morphed into horror as he took in Ron's words. He slowly slumped down.

"I… I… I didn't think about it like that."

Ron smirked, "You weren't embarrassed at all, were you?"

Harry shook his head, looking thoughtful.

"I-I don't want her to kiss me." Harry said unconvincingly, blushing. Ron rolled his eyes.

"Yeah. Right."

Harry frowned, "I hated it when she talked about kissing other guys." He shoved a hand through his hair frustratingly. Harry wanted to be sure whether that kiss meant anything or not, that's why he said that to Hermione. But that was a kiss that made his heart race, lips tingle – it made him happy. He thought about those rosy lips, looking lush and plump. They were so beautiful. Heck, Hermione was so fucking beautiful.

"Maybe I should just let you think. I'll wait for you downstairs when you're ready." Ron murmured with a smirk, turning around and walking out of the portrait. Harry nodded absently.

The way she bit her deliciously plump lower lip when she was nervous or deep in thought, the lips when pursed whenever she was ready to scold or lecture, the lips when curled in such a beautiful smile when she was happy – her lips were beautiful. Harry could imagine her face very clearly, reading a book with a frown while curling her fringe on her finger, that small crease in her eyebrow whenever she stared at the fire while deep in thought – he wanted to kiss that frown away.

Harry's eyes widened – he wanted to kiss those luscious lips. Those lips that looked ready to play with whenever she took a sip from her pumpkin juice, those lips… were his.

Harry's eyes widened more.

Oh hell. Since when he started noticing these sort of things? All images that appeared before his eyes ranged from the fourth year, fifth, sixth until now – his subconscious had preserved every memory of her beauty.

Oh. Fuck.

He wasn't just attracted to her. He liked her – loved her. He had loved her for a very long time.

Caught that pretty early, didn't you? Hermione's voice said softly, mockingly.

"Hey Harry. I think Ron's waiting for you downstairs." Hermione said suddenly, standing infront of him. Harry jumped on his feet.

"Hermione, I'm sorry-"

"Don't," Hermione raised her palm to stop him, a beautiful smile curling on her face. Oh hell, he wanted to kiss her now senseless…

"I know, okay?"

"You know?" Harry said breathlessly. Hermione nodded solemnly.

Oh she knows… oh goodness… maybe they could kiss now…

"It was just ego problem right?" Hermione said.

Her lips… wait, what?

Hermione spoke before Harry could continue, "I hurt your ego just because you thought I didn't want to kiss you, right? I know Harry. You're a very good kisser okay? Don't worry. It's okay, you don't have to pretend you liked it. I perfectly understand." Hermione spoke with a small – fake – smile.

"But-"

"Harry," Hermione laughed this time, "you're too sweet for your own good. I assure you it doesn't bother me. I'm not really pretty like Cho or Ginny or play Quidditch. You don't have to pity me."

It does, Harry knew it does. Her eyes didn't lie.

Harry was stuck agape at her, how low she thought of herself… it made him sick.

"I'm not-"

"Oh!" she exclaimed, looking at her watch, "I've to go – Draco's waiting for me downstairs!" Harry was too consumed with shock and disbelief that he couldn't stop her.

She called him Draco. No way was she going with Draco right now if she misunderstood everything. Not when Harry was burning with raging possessiveness.