A/N

Just an FYI, Sirius is not, repeat NOT, dead in this fic. Enjoy!


"Don't worry mate, all women are mental."

"Including Hermione?"

"Absolutely. She's been a hundred percent woman since we met her. She's queen mental."

Harry and Ron were in the boys' dormitory. Harry had decided to tell Ron about the bathroom incident. But he thought it wise not to tell Ron about the thoughts he had been having about his relationship with Ginny. For some reason, Harry couldn't help but compare hisgirlfriend to his best friend.

"Let me see if I've got this clear, Ron," he said slowly. "All women are mental and puberty's finally getting to Hermione, am I close?"

"What," Ron said indignantly, "am I speaking French here? Trust me Harry, and just forget about it. When people have been going to school together for so long, stuff gets to their heads."

"So the only reason you practically shag Lavender every night, is because you've been going to school together for so long?" Harry asked with a smirk. Ron's ears went pink. He was just about to retaliate when Neville came in.

"Have either of you seen Trevor?" he asked hurriedly. Without waiting for a reply, Neville began to search his bed.

"Perfect!" he exclaimed. "Why is it that when I'm sick of the bloody toad, he's always around, and when I actually need it, I can't find it?" Fortunately, Hermione called up from the bottom of the stairs,

"It's all right Neville, I've got him!"

"What are you doing with Hermione, Neville?" Harry asked almost sharply.

"She's helping me with Transfiguration," he replied. For some reason, Neville's ears went nearly as sanguine as Ron's (which is an amazing feat). This, unfortunately, did not go unnoticed.

"What are you so worked up about, Neville?" Ron asked. Here, Neville's whole face turned red, and though it went unnoticed, so did Harry's.

"It's just that," Neville began slowly, "she's always helped me in, well, everything. I don't know, I guess I just suddenly noticed that," his whole head was vermilion, "she's pretty."

Ron dissolved into laughter.

"Y-you, H-h-Hermione, p-p-pretty!" Ron was pretty much incapable of forming a proper sentence, he was laughing so hard. Harry on the other hand, couldn't speak for an entirely different reason.

He suddenly felt a monster roaring in his chest. He thinks she's pretty, does he? Harry thought venomously. He was fighting to keep his tone and his countenance casual.

"Wonderful, splendid, really that's just…Perfect," he said after a moment. There was a pause. Both Neville and Harry let out a sigh of relief when Hermione called up for Neville. Ron was still laughing.

Feeling that Ron wouldn't be decent for another talk for quite a few hours, Harry descended the stairs a few minutes after Neville left.

Potter, you definitely need to talk to Sirius. He thought. Without even thinking to glance at Ginny, who was having yet another conversation with Dean, Harry headed for the Owlery.

When he got there, Harry immediately spotted his familiar, Hedwig. She was finishing up what was left of what appeared to be a mouse. Taking out a sheet of parchment, Harry wrote,

Padfoot,

I really need to talk to you. It's about Hermione. If you can, I'd like to talk to you in the Gryffindor common room. Whenever you can.

I'm desperate,

Harry

Feeling that that had summed up a few things, Harry looked up and saw that Hedwig was already finished eating, and that she was holding her leg up patiently. Harry smiled.

"Perfect timing," he said fondly. After an affectionate nip on the finger, Harry tied the letter to Hedwig's awaiting leg.

"It's for Sirius, ok Hedwig?" She gave him a look that told him she understood.

Harry walked to the window with his closest friend on his arm. Hedwig immediately took off.

As Harry watched her fly out of sight, he felt as if a weight had been lifted. All he had to do now was wait.