He knew they both had felt it. He finally understood all the strange and confusing things he had been feeling over the last few weeks.. and the reason for concern... for everything. He didn't mind having a detention tonight, not with Pansy, at least. It would be their own time together... away from prying eyes. Whether or not she would accept their time as merry, still worried him, however.

After overhearing Snape's comment in potions, Ron had grilled him for more information. Harry had been forced to tell what exactly had transpired between him and "Parkinson". Harry bent the truth just enough to be convenient and non-incriminating. Ron especially was forceful in prying every detail from him, Hermione just wanted an answer.

"I told you, she reminded me not to dump the stuff in before I stirred, I was taking her hand off of me when it happened." Harry had responded repeatedly. Ron still wasn't accepting of the answer.

"Being awful nice, wasn't she?" Hermione said, being entirely serious as she did. "Your potion could have exploded without her little tip."

"Yeah, and because of it we both have detention." Harry groaned, sinking back into his chair.

"And half the school thinking you're in some sort of relationship." Ron added, Harry laughing at the words, despite his feelings.

"Still. She was being uncharacteristically kind." Hermione repeated. "Are you sure there's nothing going on between you two?"

"Hermione, if you're interested in Harry, speak up now, why don't you?" Ron teased. Hermione was not at all pleased with Ron's statement.

"That's not funny, Ronald! I mean it! Are you sure..."

"Touchy." he heard Ron mutter quietly.

"Yes," said Harry indignantly, "I'm sure."

After a quick dinner of the best food in Britain, Harry walked slowly to Professor Snape's office. As he neared the large, cold door, he heard a familiar voice echo softly from down the hall,

"Wait for me!" Pansy said quickly as her shoes noisily beat against the ancient floor. Her voice sent warmth through his entire body. He felt as he could float in thin air, fly on the clouds themselves... then again, with magic, he probably could.

The door to the dungeon flew open and a rather annoyed Professor Snape stood, slightly hunched before them. He dragged Harry inside by the hem of his robes, allowing Pansy to walk in of her own accord, then slammed the door.

"You'll be removing the gum from the underside of each of these desks." he snorted, "Without magic." he added, taking their wands.

Harry and Pansy looked at one another angrily. It was clear that neither of them was too happy about this detention. As Snape strode off to his office, he shouted,

"The picks and rags you will use are on the front table. You will not leave this room tonight until you have finished." and he slammed his door.

Walking carefully behind Pansy to the supplies, Harry reached for a rag.

He needn't have. Pansy threw one to him. Well, not really to him so much as in his face, but, it worked out fine just the same.

"Today has been a terrible day." groaned Pansy, already beginning to pick the gum from the underside of the desk. "First I get you railing me about your dream, then I get..."

"It wasn't a dream." huffed Harry. She ignored him.

"... flak from you about how Draco is supposedly faking his injury, and get more flak from you about your dream during potions and that ends us landed in here for the night stuck alone in this disgusting dungeon!" she hissed, "You see the common problem?

Harry just ignored her as she continued to ramble on and on about how miserable her Slytherin girl life was and how miserable she was having to live up to the expectations of her parents without some snot-nosed Gryffindor tearing her to pieces.

When she finally slowed down, Harry had completed a full row of tables and had started on the next.

Growling as she fought a piece of gum that refused to let go of the desk, she slipped with her pick and jabbed her finger. Sucking on it carefully to ease the pain, she winced slightly. Harry, knowing some basic healing magic from his well-earned time spent with Madam Pomfrey, walked over to her and gently pulled her injured finger from her mouth.

"Resarcio" would have been the spell to use, had he had his wand. Forgetting this until then, he quickly earned her disfavor.

"I'm sorry." he said apologetically, "I know just the spell to heal that... but I forgot we don't have our wands." he grimaced. "I know some Muggle stuff that should help." he said quickly, applying pressure to the wound and wiping it with the cleanest part of his robes. She looked at him appreciatively.

As he let go of her hand, she felt a piece of herself leave... like part of her had gone with him. Her stomach fluttered uneasily. He looked at her and smiled kindly, wiped the tear from her cheek and opened his mouth to speak once more,

"Do you love me?" he asked innocently.

"We've been over this." she groaned, placing the palm of her hand to her forehead.

"Yes, we have." Harry agreed. "And you've lied every time."