Disclaimer:I don't own any HP characters, Ms. Rowling does. The Backstreet Boys own themselves, and I invented Alice Granger, so if you want to use her in your story, it's gonna cost ya $$$$

A/N The last chapter was kinda angsty, and this one might have some more. This is basically the next day, and how mad Harry was at her. Now don't get mad at me. You'd be mad too, if the person you were in love with told you that they wished you were dead. In this chapter, words between asterisks are the words of Harry's subconcious, words in bold are his concience, and italics are still his thoughts. Just think of his concience as his shoulder angel, and his subconcious as his shoulder devil.
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Chapter 7-The Next Day

Harry couldn't sleep that night. He had the dream again. Different ones too. Byt Hermione always died in the end, or sometimes the beginning. He finally gave up trying to sleep. He got up and did a bit of homework. After a while he got extremely bored, and looked at his watch.

"5:37," he muttered to himself. "Might as well get dressed, I s'pose."

Harry got out of bed and put on his jeans, sweater, and Hogwarts robes. After tying his sneakers, he packed up his homework and trudged down to the common room. He was hungry from tossing and turning all night.

Harry went down to the Great Hall to find that the doors were firmly shut and locked.

Oh well, he thought as he went slowly up to Gryffindor Tower. I'll just do some more homework while I wait for Ron.

He did. When he got through the portrait of the Fat Lady, he got his bag and sat down at one of the tables. He got quite a lot of work done. Harry suspected that his subconcious was trying as hard as possible not to think about Hermione.

After getting all of his Defense Against the Dark Arts and Tranfiguration homework done, as well as his Herbology assignment and his essay for Professer Binns on 'Why Muggles Refuse to Notice Magic',he checked his watch again to see if breakfast might be ready yet. It was 7:55. breakfast would start in about ten minutes.

At 7:59 he was beginning to think about Hermione, however hard his subconcious fought against it.

Her beautiful cinnamon eyes, he thought. Those soft, kissable-

NO! his subconcious screamed at him. You will not think of her! She wants you dead remember?

*You both said things you didn't mean, and you know it!* Harry's concience said firmly. *You love her! You have to apologize.*

I should just forgive her, he thought dreamily. We were both really mad after all. I'm sure she didn't mean it.

Yes she did! his subconcious insisted. She meant every word she said! She's never cared about you! She just gets her kicks from breaking boy's hear-

Don't you dare talk about Hermione like that!!! Harry screamed at himself.

*That's the ticket Harry,* his consience said proudly. *You tell 'im*

You could have been a little nicer to her too!!! Harry continued. You started it, anyway. You brought up the whole 'I can get you away from him' thing! It's your fault you aren't speaking to each other!!

Then why haven't you spoken to her yet? Eh? replied his subconcious smugly.

Because it's too early, he replied quickly.

You know she's awake, it went on. You hate her. Admit it!

Go away!!! Harry screamed into every recess of his mind. Get out of my head!!!!

Ok, OK, sheesh! said his subconcious hastily. Just trying to help.

OUT!!

His head was very quiet. More thought of Hermione's beauty and gracefulness jump into his mind, uncalled.

Harry let out a cry of exasperation. "Why can't I stop thinking about her?!?!" he yelled to no one in particular.

"Think of who?" asked Ron from the foot of the staircase. "Hermione?"

"No," said Harry sarcastically, "The Ugly Duckling. Who do you think? Of course Hermione!"

"Why don't you just go tell her you're sorry for whatever you did to make her mad?" Ron suggested, ready to run if Harry was about to have another famous tantrum.

"I don't need to apoligize!" Harry cried. "I wasn't the one who said I should've let her die!!"

"No," said Ron cautiously. "But you must've done something to make her mad enought to say that."

At that moment, Hermione walked down the stairs, fully dressed. Her eyes were rather red, but Harry ignored them. Even with red eyes she was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. And that counted for a lot. The unicorns Hagrid had shown them last year had made Harry think that nothing was beautiful, except them.

"Harry?" it was Ron.

"What?" said Harry jumping out of his trance.

"Why were you staring at her like that?" asked Ron curiously.

"Because for a second I thought she looked nice," he said, trying as hard as possible not to break down into sobs from trying to hurt his Hermione.(A/N weird thought, huh? Harry crying is a very pathetic picture.) "But then she looked at me."

"I thought you never wanted to see my face again?" asked Hermione coldly. "It seemed to me that you were looking at it pretty hard."

Harry looked stunned and hurt at the same time. That look mede Hermione's heart melt, but she refused to let it show.

Harry grabbed his bag and pulled Ron out into the corrider. He pulled him all the way down to the Great Hall, where he let go of Ron's wrist so he could eat his breakfat. That morning was the fastest Harry had ever eaten at Hogwarts. By the time the mail had come, he was done and on his way out.

"Harry!" called Ron. "You've got, an owl. No, wait, three, four.....now five. Blimey! You'd better get over here. One of them's a Howler! Wait, no! I don't believe this. It's a Valentine."

Now Harry spun around. "It's December! Who'd send a Valentine in Decem-" but he stopped, realizing who had sent the cards.

He rushed to the table. Several of the Gryffindors cheered, thinking that the fight between Harry and Hermione was over. But when Harry had opened all the letters, (A/N If you want to know what they said, ask in a reveiw, and I'll add another chapter.)he gathered them up, along with the roses the Valentine had sprouted the instant he'd opened it, and made confetti out of them. He walked swiftly over to Hermione, and dumped them on top of her.

"What the-! Harry wait!" she called after him. "I'm sorry!"

Harry was almost to the door when he stopped and spun around. "You're sorry?!?!?!" he repeated furiously. "You tell me at three o' clock in the morning that you are going to elope with Viktor Krum, that you wish I had died in the first year, and that all I wanted was to get you in bed, and you have the audacity to send me four cards and a Valentine, and think that will make a difference?!?!?!?!?!?! You said that you wished I was dead!!! Flowers are not going to change that! You're gonna have to try a lot harder then that if you want me to forgive you!"

Hermione fell to her knees, sobbing. "I am trying!!" she screeched to his retreating back. "I can't stand not talking to you!! Get back here you coward! I want things to be the way they were!"

Harry turned around slowly, and gave her the look he usually only reserved for Malfoy, Snape, and Voldemort. "What about Vicky? Hmmm? I thought you had loyalty."

"Harry, please," she cried, tears streaming down her face.

Harry leaned down next to her, and his features softened considerably. "It's killing me to do this to you Hermione," he whispered, but the whole hall was listening intently, and they caught every word. As the crowd began to cheer again, Harry raised a hand so he could speak to Hermione. "But then again, that's exactly what you want, isn't it?"

"Harry, I'm sorry," Hermione was bawling, more from Harry's verbal abuse then anything now.

"Stop snivelling Granger. You don't cry in public, remember?"

Hermione gasped, and looked as shocked as if Harry had hit her. So did the rest of the hall. Only the Slytherins called her 'Granger'.

Harry walked calmly out of the Great Hall, and towards his first class. Double Potions, his favorite.
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Fate, perhaps, was not on his side that day. Or maybe Snape had just decided to rub a little salt into his wounds. But in any case, when he arrived in the dungeons that day, the only seat was next to Hermione. Harry noticed that everybody was sitting boy/girl Gryffindor/Slytherin with two to a table. Ron was with Pansy Parkinson. Seamus had Mullicent Bullstrode, and poor Lavender was paired with Goyle.

"Potter!" hissed Snape from behind him. "You are late. Sit! And five points from Gryffindor."

Turning to the rest of the class he said, "Today, we will be making," he paused to smile at Harry, "Love Potions. You will be making them with your partners. The recipe can be found on page four hundred and fourty-three of Deadly, Dasterdly, and Devious Potions. You will all carfeully brew you potions, and then, you will test them. If yu do it correctly, you will spend the rest of the day singing love songs and other revolting nonsense to your partner."

Harry and Hermione turned very pale at the thought of what would happen if they did it correctly.

"And before you get any ideas, Potter and Granger," Snape added. "If your potion is not done correctly, you will be force-fed my Love Potion. And believe me, that is a concentrated formula. I have never given it to anyone in its undilluted state, but I believe it may result in a, ahem, shall we say, Harry Jr.?"

Hermione opened her mouth in outraged, but closed it again as Harry's heel connected with her shin. "Don't push it," he muttered. "We'll just have to have some of Hagrid's fudge for lunch or something."

As they began to unload the necessary ingredients, Hermione said quietly, "Why did you have to tell the whole hall that I'm marrying Viktor?"

"Why did you have to wish that I was dead?" Harry countered.

"Oh, this again," Hermione sighed. "Harry I'm really, really sorry. I was mad when I said that. I didn't really mean it."

"Prove it," said Harry simply. "That hurt me, OK? That hurt a lot. You are one of my best friends. Friends don't tell friends that they should die."

"I didn't say that, and you know it," whispered Hermione. "I said I should have left you to die."

"It's the same thing," Harry insisted bitterly. "I don't care what you say, you wished that I was dead."

All the time they were talking, they had been working on the Love Potion. Snape broke the silence of the class by saying, "You should all have finished by now. Potter! Granger! I want you to test your's first."

Harry took a deep breath and added the last ingredient to Hremione's glass: a kiss blown from his own lips. To his surprise, it turned deepest green, the color of his eyes. Hermione did the same to Harry's goblet of potion. It turned a deep, blood red. At the same time, they raised the glasses to their lips, and drank.

The effect was instintaneus. Harry suddenly began to wonder why he and Hermione were fighting at all. He resisted the urge to throw his arms around her neck and kiss her passionatly. He could tell that she was fighting the potion as well.

"Stop fighting the effects this instant!" screamed Snape in outrage.

Harry's head was hurting now. He supposed this was what happened when you tried to ignore a potion. Hermione was looking much worse then he was though. Harry thought she was about to faint, and moved a bit closer to her. The ache in his head eased a little. Suddenly Hermione fell over into his arms. She had fainted.

Snape screamed in fury. "Malfoy! Take her to the Hospital Wing."

Harry handed Hermione's limp form to Malfoy, and tried to sit down, but somehow found himself following ten paces behind Malfoy and Hermione.

"Potter! Come back here right now!" cried Snape.

"Does it look to you like I'm walking?!!" yelled Harry. Indeed, his arms were crossed, and planted his feet firmly on the floor. But he was being dragged along behind Hermione. "I think we did the potion wrong." he called as he was dragged out the door.

Snape then did the unthinkable; he smiled. "No, you did it quite right," he said. "If the kiss you added to her goblet was one of true love, you will not be able to leave her side until the potion wears off. In about twelve hours."

Harry held on to the door frame as tightly as he could as Malfoy carried Hermione down the corrider. But soon he found himself riding along the floor behind them, his bum getting more and more coated with dust.

"Perhaps you should carry her, Potter," said Snape evilly. "However, if you do not arrive at the hospital wing in a reasonable amout of time, evey closet and broom cupboard in this castle will be searched thouroughly. Am I understood?"

Harry nodded and took Hermione from Malfoy. As soon as he touched her, his headache, which had been almost unbearable all the time he had been trying to stay away from her, vanished.
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Madam Pomfrey was standing over Hermione, looking disgusted. "Why didn't he tell you children not to fight the potions' effects! He shouldn't even be having you brew this! Everyone knows that if this potion isn't brewed right, its effects can be permanent" (A/N Dun, dun, duhhhh!!!!!!!!!! Sorry! Back to the story.)

"Yes, that's wonderful," said Harry impatiently. "But will Hermione be alright?"

"Stop buzzing around me boy!" snapped Madam Pomfrey. "Just a moment."

She bustled over to her office, and came out with a goblet filled to the brim with a blueish-red color. It smelled like the ladies' perfume section at the Muggle shops he had visited with Aunt Petunia.

"Drink this," she commanded.

"What is it?" asked Harry, not completely trusing Madam Pomfrey's concoctions, though they had helped him immensly on a number of occasions.

"It will diminish the effects of the Love Potion."

Harry drank. He instantly remembered how mad he was at Hermione. She wants you dead. Flashed through his mind again.

"Can I go back to class now?" he asked.

"Don't you want to carry her back?" asked Madam Pomfrey slyly.

"NO!" shouted Harry. "I don't want to touch her!"

"Why don't you want to touch the one you love?"

"I don't love her," said Harry tightly. "Can I go back to class now?" he repeated.

"Yes, but you'll have to carry her," said Madam Pomfrey angrily. "I should've left that Potion's effects on you!"

So Harry carried her down to the dungeons. He set her down on her chair, and began to clean up the couldron they had used. When he had finished, he looked at the rest of the class, most of which were kissing their partner wildly, some even, ahem, *licking and biting*.
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At lunch that, day, most Slytherin and Gryffindor sixth years were either at the wrong table making out with their partners from Potions that morning, or at the right table, making out witht their partners from Potions. Some were unaccounted for. *Wink, wink*

Harry sat at the end of the table nearest the door. He was the only one not snogging with someone. He had picked a seat as far from Lavender and Goyle-more Goyle than Lavender-who were feircly kissing. The entire hall was more interested in the sixth years' behavior than in their plates of food.

At the exact moment that Harry was about to visit the Library to get a bit more work done, Hermione came walking into the hall, looked around, and promptly sat herself down on Harry's lap. Most people in the hall turned their attention to Harry and the object on his lap. Only those most involved in their snogging activities paid them no heed.

Harry was completely unaware of all the people watching him. He was more interested in figuring out how to get Hermione off of his lap.

He was distracted from his thoughts by Hermione winding her fingers into his hair and whispering seductively in his ear, "Let's find a more private place for this."

"Let's not and say we did," suggested Harry weakly. It was amazing how quickly his resolve to ignore Hermione could dissolve when she sat on his lap and tried to kiss him in front of everyone.

"Anxious, are we?" asked Hermione coyly. "Alright then, let's play it your way." She swooped down on him and gave him the sweetest, most passionate kiss she could manage. Harry tried to pull away, but she was holding tightly to his shirt and hair.

Everybody cheered. The fight had to be over now. But they were wrong. Very, very wrong.

"Get the hell off me!" Harry screamed when Hermione finally cane up for air. "Go to Madam Pomfrey for an anti-Love Potion. NOW!!"

Hermione got off his lap and trudged away.

She came back a few minutes later and walked over to Harry.

"I'm sorry," she mutteed looking very embarrassed. "I shouldn't have let myself get carried away."

"It's OK," Harry admitted. "I snuck a kiss in the hospital wing after you fainted. You were just getting me back." He winked, and smiled. Their fight was temporarily forgotten. But they both knew that they would hate each other in the morning.
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Harry went to Divination in high spirits that day. But when he looked into the crystal ball he was supposed to be gazing into, what he saw there shocked him beyond belief.

Hermione stood, tied to a boulder. Voldemort stood in front of her, smiling evilly.

"...know that you love him Mudblood, why don't you just admit it?"

"I don't love him! I hate him!" she screeched.

"Then you should have no problem with telling me where he is, should you?" Voldemort hissed.

"Never," whispered Hermione. "I may hate him, but I'll always love him."

Voldemort muttered something that sounded very much like "Women!" He raised his wand at Hermione and said "Crucio!"

Harry flew off his chair backwards as his scar exploded with pain.

"Potter!" cried Professer Trelawney in alarm. "What in earth is wrong?"

"Bad headache," Harry lied quickly.

"You seem to get an awful lot of headaches in my class, young man," she said, with a hint of a smile.

"I know," said Harry, trying to look guilty. "I think I'm allergic to it." he muttered, so that only Ron, Dean, And Seamus could hear him.

"I think, perhaps," said Trelawney mysteriously. "That you are more allergic to the magical perfumes of my class, then you are of the class itself."

"Whoops," said Harry. "Need to get my speakers checked I think."
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At dinner that night, Harry sat at the oppisite end of the table from all the make out couples, who had resumed their positions from lunch. This meant sitting next to Hermione. They did not talk, but instead ate as though they hadn't noticed each other.
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Thay both had trouble falling asleep that night, but eventually, sleep found them.

Hermione dreamed wonderful dreams about she and Harry. But Harry saw the vision from his crystal ball over and over. He woke up only once, in a cold sweat. As many times before, he rolled over and didn't remember the dream when he woke agian, several hours later. But he would remember it later that year. When he would have to save Hermione.
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A/N I'm sorry, but there will be no thanx on this page, though I enjoyed reading your reveiws. It's really late, and I'll flatter myself in saying that you would rather have me post it now with no thanx then in a week with them. Remember to vote on which story you want me to continue!!!!