I was happier about this chapter, so... please review! I 3 reviews! They make my day!


That night, Harry went to bed thinking happily that there was only one more day of classes, Slughorn's party and then the Burrow for the holidays. But the possibilities of Ron and Hermione becoming friends again (or more) before Christmas were slim. And Harry dreaded the alone time with Ron.

It wasn't the three of them anymore, but that wasn't Harry and Hermione's fault. It was more Ron and Lavender's fault, though Hermione always insisted on Lavender first. So Harry had been spending more time with 'his girlfriend' than with Ron or, to his dismay, Ginny.

"I heard her talking to a friend; she says that it's not going very well with Dean," Hermione told Harry smugly. This lifted his spirits a serious amount, and he only wished he could do the same for Hermione. But, in his and Ron's before-bed-chats, Hermione was never a main subject. "And her friend said something like: maybe it's because you spend most of your time thinking about someone else." She punched him playfully, and he smiled at her. They both laughed.

Ron, who was just entering the common room, decided that maybe he could come back later.

A few days later, in the Great Hall, Harry sat by Ron for a change. Hermione wasn't there yet, and it wasn't like he and Ron were fighting... even though their communication had been slim.

"Hey Ron," he greeted, trying to sound as casual as possible.

"Hey, Harry." He paused. "Have you um... seen Hermione?"

Harry's heart started to beat faster. For Hermione, not for him.

"I think she was somewhere around here... why?" Once again, he tried to sound casual.

Ron went red. "No reason."

Harry sighed and helped himself to some lunch.

"What was that?" Ron asked, curious. Harry frowned.

"What was what?"

Ron sighed. "The sigh."

"Did I sigh?"

"You did."

"Oh..." He shrugged. Wow. He was going to blow their cover. And Ron would be pissed.

"What is it?" he pressed on.

OK, Harry, think. "It's just..." he gulped at Ron's face. "It's just... you and Hermione. You don't talk anymore, and our relationship is seeming... strained."

"Strained?" Ron suddenly turned a brighter red. "Maybe if you weren't hogging her the whole time-"

"I'm not hogging her, Ron. You completely ignore her, you act as if she weren't here. And it has nothing to do with us... dating." Those words were definitely strained. Ron made a noise that sounded like: puft. Harry decided to keep on going... if he dared. He dared. "Maybe if you'd just apologize-"

"For what? She sent those bloody birds at me, I didn't ask for them." Oh no, he was getting incredibly close to boiling point. But...

"She was upset," he defended. "And you made fun of her in Transfiguration."

"She laughed at my eyebrow."

"So did I, it was the stupidest thing I've ever seen."

Ron looked guilty, but quickly changed, and looked angry. Oh no, Harry thought. "She hasn't been upset around you, has she? You're bloody perfect for each other."

"Listen, Ron-" But Ron wasn't listening anymore. Lavender approached with Pavarti at her tail, and squeezed between Ron and Harry, wrapping her arms around the former.

"Hi, Harry," Pavarti greeted, looking embarrassed, as Harry, about her friends behavior.

"Hi, Pavarti. How're you? You're staying at Hogwarts, then? I heard your parents wanted you to leave."

"I managed to talk them out of it for the time being," said Parvati. "Oh, hi, Hermione." Her voice was bright; Harry knew that she was feeling guilty at laughing at Hermione in Transfiguration.

"Hey Pavarti," Hermione said rather loudly, coming to stand besides them, beaming back at her and completely ignoring Ron and Lavender. Harry frowned. Girls were strange sometimes. "Are you going to Slughorn's party tonight?"

"No, no invite," Pavarti answered gloomily. "You're going, right?"

"Yes. Me and Harry are going together, what with the dating and all, aren't we?"

"Um, yeah," Harry said, managing a smile. Hermione smiled back, in a none-Hermione pose.

There was a noise like a plunger being withdrawn from a blocked sink, and Ron surfaced. Hermione acted as though she had not seen or heard anything. Pavarti didn't seem as interested as the other girls in the hall. She had been there, done that.

"You two are perfect for each other," she said anyways, encouragingly.

Harry started to cringe away from Lavender; he was sure that Ron could make it at him within seconds. Hermione ruffled Harry's hair, which was something Harry didn't enjoy.

"I know, right?" Hermione answered. "I've always thought so." Harry's mouth fell open, but he closed it quickly. What did girls do to get revenge? He reminded himself never to get into a fight with a girl. Ever.

"You like Quidditch players, don't you?" Pavarti asked, giggling. "First Krum, now Harry..."

"Oh yes. I only like really good Quidditch players," Hermione corrected. Harry shifted uncomfortably. In fact, he had never felt more uncomfortable in his life.

"Well, I've got to go and get ready for the party. See you at eight, Harry." And she left. Harry made a face, and didn't dare look at Ron. He moved for Pavarti to sit between him and Lavender (and Ron). The girls put their heads together and Harry just knew that they were talking about him.

After that, he picked at his food, and left about five minutes later. He couldn't leave with Hermione. He wanted to avoid all topic with her right now.

When he arrived back at the entrance hall at eight o'clock that night, he found an unusually large number of girls lurking there, all of whom seemed to be staring at Hermione with evil glares, as if they were hoping to burn holes in her back. But she approached him confidently, wearing an outfit similar to the one she wore in their fourth year, but her hair still bushy.

She greeted him with an innocent kiss on the cheek.

"Let's," he coughed, knowing that many people were waiting to hear what he had to say. "You look great," he said honestly, knowing that besides her he'd probably look as dashing as Lupin (no offense intended).

"Thank you." She smiled sweetly.

"Let's go," he said once more, and he held his arm, which she took gracefully.

Whether it had been built that way, or because he had used magical trickery to make it so, Slughorn's office was much larger than the usual teacher's study. The ceiling and walls had been draped with emerald, crimson, and gold hangings, so that it looked as though they were all inside a vast tent. The room was crowded and stuffy and bathed in the red light cast by an ornate golden lamp dangling from the center of the ceiling in which real fairies were fluttering, each a brilliant speck of light. Loud singing accompanied by what sounded like mandolins issued from a distant corner; a haze of pipe smoke hung over several elderly warlocks deep in conversation, and a number of house-elves were negotiating their way squeakily through the forest of knees, obscured by the heavy silver platters of food they were bearing, so that they looked like little roving tables.

"Oh dear," Hermione gasped. Harry squinted to see the problem. And then he sighed.

"Hermione, I'm telling you, they like the work."

"They don't know what they like, they just want to please other people. They don't care about themselves-"

"Yeah, they're perfect. C'mon Hermione, it's Christmas. They're happy, so just let them be."

Hermione made a noise, but resigned. "OK," she accepted with a deep breath.

"Harry, m'boy!" Slughorn beamed. "Miss Granger!" He took both their shoulders with his hands, and looked upon them. "A regular James and Lily," he said, as they both cringed and exchanged glances. "The cocky, dashing young man," Harry squirmed, "and the level-headed, bright young muggle born." Hermione went a deep shade of red, but Harry wasn't sure if it were out of anger of being flattered. "But, I'm probably overdoing it, you're still young, have your lives ahead of you!"

"Easy for you to say," Harry mumbled, thinking of the Prophecy.

"What was that my dear boy? Never mind, never mind, there are many people I'd like you to meet!" And he grabbed Harry's arm tightly, let go of Hermione and they were dragged off into the crowd. Harry looked with despair behind him, loosing sight of his date.

At one point, he escaped, and ran right into... Ginny.

"Hi Harry," she said.

"Um... hey Ginny," he answered.

She nodded. "So... you and Hermione. Is that real...?" she asked.

Harry was about to answer no, but he got his sense back, thinking of how Ron would murder him if he ever found out that it was a trick.

"Yeah, sure," he stuttered. Ginny smirked. "What?"

"Well... come on. You're not exactly... committed."

"What - what's that supposed to mean?"

"Harry. My brother's doing more snogging than you. Which leads me to believe that you're helping her make a certain person jealous."

Harry avoided that one. "Just because we don't do it publicly-"

"So there's snogging?"

"Well, yeah... sure," he said, cringing, but, by the time he had finished stuttering she was gone.

He ran towards as soon as he saw her bushy hair once more.

"Harry! Thank God! Stand next to me, here," she dragged him to stand beside her, with a touch of urgency.

"What happened to you?" Harry asked incredulously, observing her appearance.

"I left Cormac under the mistletoe! He's stalking me, I swear! And I believe that he's slightly drunk."

"Hey Granger!"

"Oh dear," she said once more. Cormac came into view.

"It's your hair, it's so bushy," Harry observed, flicking it around.

"Stop that!" Hermione slapped his hand. Cormac came and stood next to her, and she crossed her arms.

"Oh, oh, oh! Trouble in paradise! How's it goin' Harry?"

"Cormac," Harry said simply.

"Hey! You guys are dating, right?" he asked.

Harry frowned. "You just said, trouble in paradise, which implies that you already knew about it."

"Oh, right. I forgot."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"So... how official is it? Have you made out?"

Hermione pulled a face. "I can assure you that that's none of your business!" she scolded. Cormac backed away, playfully.

"Oh!" he said.

"Oaf," Hermione muttered.

Trelawney bumped into her ungracefully. Hermione spilled her butter beer.

"Oh dear!" she exclaimed, looking down at her dress. But, muttering a few words, it disappeared. Trelawney watched her.

"Hey, Glasses!" Cormac greeted. Harry frowned. "Trelawney. These two are dating!" he told her. This time, Trelawney frowned.

"No they're not," she said.

Cormac raised his eyebrows.

"S'what they told me."

"Yes, they did."

Harry and Hermione exchanged glances.

Cormac looked confused. But then he didn't. "Oh, I get it. Not very convincing at all, are they?"

"I'd say they're very so..." Trelawney gazed into Harry's eyes, her magnified eyes making him take a step back. Cormac shrugged.

"I'd like to see a smooch," he said. Hermione looked panicked.

"They can't do that..." Trelawney said, but within seconds she was devoured once more by the crowd.

"What?"

"C'mon. Where's the love? I know, Potter! Let's fight for her."

"That's really not necessary," Harry assured him.

"It's not," Hermione agreed, grabbing onto Harry's arm.

"Well it certainly seems so."

Harry and Hermione backed away. And then Cormac let out an oafish grin pointing at the ceiling above them.

"Mistletoe! You lose Granger!"

"What? No!" she winced and hid behind Harry.

"What's going on here?" Slughorn's voice boomed. Harry thanked him secretly. McLaggen was enormous. "Shoo, McLaggen. Is that alcohol I smell on your breath? Move along, move along - Harry!" He clapped loudly as if he had only just spotted him.

"Thank you sir, Cormac was-"

"You didn't stand up for your lady, did you?" he tut-tutted. "Not at all like James. But, no offence, my dear boy!"

"None taken," Harry answered non-convincingly between gritted teeth.

"Anyways, what I was trying to say was... it's Christmas? Where's your Christmas spirit? I'm sure that Miss Granger would like a taste, ey?"

Harry felt the warmth escape his body. "I... uh..."

"It's really not necessary, sir," Hermione cut in.

"Oh, come on! Mistletoe and everything!"

Harry cringed. "Is that alcohol I smell on your breath?" He tried.

"What if it is? Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss," he started chanting, nudging the person next to him to join in. "Kiss, kiss, kiss!" Everyone was suddenly chanted. "Come on! It's Christmas!" yelled someone.

Harry was backing away slowly.

But then, it happened again. Ginny stood in the crowd. She wasn't cheering. She was getting some 'Christmas spirit' of her own. He was going to run, but then she stared at him, and smirked.

He drew Hermione slowly towards him, and hesitated.

She muttered something inaudible over the riot, but she wasn't protesting. It sounded more like: "Oh, let's just get it over with." He didn't dare look into her eyes.

They both cringed as they went in for it.


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