Sorry this is a little behind time... but I now have a beta! Twisted Raver has been a great help with this chapter. Oceanwind, I'd love to thank you as well, for giving me tips and advice. And thanks to everybody who has stuck with this fanfic so far! I can't believe I started this over a year ago, and that some of you are still reading :)

The festivities in the Common Room still went on late into the night - apparently a few seventh years were able to sneak some Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes' fireworks, but I knew it would just be a bit of harmless fun for once. The whole team, save for Ron, deserved to be happy that they had won the match.

"He won't tell everyone straight away," said Harry, squeezing my shoulder gently. I noticed him glance in Ron's direction, whose tongue was currently preoccupied. Urgh, I couldn't stand his attitude at the moment.

"No, of course not. He'll probably spread some sort of sick rumour about us."

Harry's eyes snapped back to me. I was only giving him my opinion, no matter how harsh even I knew it was.

"Hermione? Do you really think he would do that?"

"He could do that. It's just a matter of choice if he actually does," I decided, curling my feet underneath me on the couch, a dull pain in my head. It felt as though it had moved its way from my chest with extreme difficulty. I really started to feel ill. "Harry, you should be happy... well, sort of. If it wasn't for you, Gryffindor wouldn't have won the game. The Seeker's aim is basically to catch the Snitch and win, isn't it? Quidditch isn't that fair a game, don't you think?"

"Hermione..." he started. I listened intently and raised my head, still massaging my temple. "You're doing that thing."

"What thing?"

"That thing where you start to talk and babble a lot, to keep your mind off of something else," I shifted in my seat as he said it. His hand reached for mine, the tangle of knots throughout my chest somewhat settled as his thumb brushed over it therapeutically. "I can see it in your eyes."

"Oddly enough, I'm not in a particularly festive mood at the moment," I made an obvious eye-rolling gesture towards the area that Ron and Lavender were currently occupying. "I think I might head off to bed."

In a way, I hated to leave him there in the common room where there may have been a chance that Ron could start something up, but Harry was above and beyond able to take care of himself. I paused as I stood up, our fingers still linked.

"Good night," he whispered gently, the warm glow now simmering in my chest as he loosened his grip from my hand.

"You too, Harry."

I was the first to bed, save for a few students in the lower years as I made my way to the dormitory. I despised myself for what I had done: Ron had distanced himself from both of us out of anger and hurt. In a way, I should have known that this would cause the relationship between Harry and me to be awkward for a while, but honestly, I believed that we would get through it. My mind fluttered from comforting dreams to mysterious nightmares, some of which caused me to become scared for no apparent reason.

Something woke me up in the early hours of the morning.

"—and you wouldn't believe what a slut she was, her hands were all over—" A familiarly annoying voice muttered somewhere to my left. There was only one thing she would think worth gossiping about besides herself at this moment. The hangings around my bed pinned themselves back with a flick of my wand.

"Excuse me?" I growled, my blood boiling at the thought that she was implying—in fact, she was stating—that I was that sort of girl.

"Don't you need some beauty sleep, Granger?" Lavender Brown tossed her hair back over her shoulder with a smirk, an action worthy of a Slytherin.

"Just think about what you're saying behind my back, because I think it applies to you more fittingly," I bit back, waiting for her to piece together what I just said. I wasn't usually the sort to make snide comments to other girls, especially to someone who only a few months ago I would have considered a good friend.

"How dare you?" Lavender shrieked, her shrill voice only increasing the pain in my head.

"I don't see why you're having a go at me really, now that you have your little 'Won-Won' all to yourself," I continued. Lavender stomped off away to the bathroom, sending me a scowl as she opened the door. "There's never been anything stopping you, and certainly not me."

Flashing a sarcastic smile towards her, I was sure that the moment she returned, she would make even ruder remarks, so I started pulling the curtains across when Parvati's face appeared, her eyes apologetic.

"Hermione," she gave a weak smile, hoping it would make up for her friend's behaviour.

"Sorry Parvati, but I would really like to get some sleep. I clearly need it."

"I'm sorry about what Lavender said," she whispered. I paused again as I untied the other curtain. Parvati hardly needed to apologise for her friend's actions. If anything, Lavender should have been saying sorry herself. Some Gryffindor that Miss Tarty Brown was. "I think she was just jealous that Ron quite liked you. Can I just ask you something?"

"Go ahead," I allowed her, looked her square in the eyes. I enjoyed the fact that Parvati was less extreme than Lavender, in the sense that she liked to talk, but didn't gossip until dawn about everything she heard. Sometimes it was nice to be able to just have a decent talk to her, without the incessant gasps and squeals that she used to give when she was younger.

"Is it true you and Harry are together?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact. We have been for weeks." I had most definitely let the Kneazle out of the bag now - there was no reason not to anymore. Parvati's face lit up at this news. Glancing towards the bathroom door, she lowered her voice.

"Oooh, you'll have to... tell me in the morning."

The next few days were tense, to say the least. The atmosphere could be sliced with a spoon for all I knew. I couldn't bear to be in the same class as Ron for more than a minute. I should have been happy that Harry and I could be open to each other now that Ron knew... I just wish it hadn't happened that way. He always left the room as soon as lessons had finished, as though he couldn't stand seeing us again. This was far worse than any detention - it was the worst punishment to lose my friend through every fault of my own. He didn't deserve this... he didn't deserve to be the friend left on the sidelines, yet, this was how he was behaving, as if he wanted to.

I tried to build up an immunity to Ron's demeanour, ignoring his dark looks and mocking whispers he made with Lavender. I realised Harry was able to deal with this breaking of friendship far better than I was.

Potions was an odd lesson. This was in the sense that Slughorn did not look as if he had been Imperiused at all. It was still strange that he was behaving normally.

"Ron..." Harry stood up, grabbing his satchel as Ron and Lavender strutted out of the Potions classroom. I held the leather strap, restraining him.

"Harry, don't bother," I told him, still flicking through my Potions book, trying to alter, from memory a certain brew that Harry once told me needed thirteen stirs instead ten. I wasn't using him for that, far from it, he was simply offering me help and I was grateful enough to take it.

"He's going to be like this for the rest of the year. I have to make it up to him."

"And how's that going to work exactly?" I gave him an intrigued look. Whatever plan he had, if at all, I prayed that it wasn't crazy.

"Ginny and the other Weasleys still want me at the Burrow over Christmas," he explained, with a hopeful look clear on his face. "Maybe we'll be able to patch things up."

"If I hear in any letters that you're at each other's throats then Merlin help me. I can't get a word out of him," I smiled. "It's great to see you're actually trying though."

Harry cuddled my waist, the same glow burning in my chest as it had been doing for the last few days. Wishing me goodbye, he dashed off after Ron. I prayed that neither of them would end up looking as though they had eaten a dozen Nosebleed Nougats.

Walking to the Great Hall, a familiarly tall red-headed fifth year ran into view. Biting my lip, I realised I hadn't kept the promise I made to her. She was going to have so much fighting and scowling to deal with over the next few weeks.

"I'm sorry, Gin."

Ginny looked puzzled, as though she was wondering for a moment what I was going on about until she let out a small grimace as she said, "In a way he deserved it, but yes, Christmas is definitely going to be a hectic time. No worries though. It might entertain me."

"I'll be sure to send you a letter when I get home. Please tell me if anything improves between Harry and Ron over the holidays."

"Of course, they're best mates — I'm sure they'll forgive each other somehow," She assured me, giving me a hug. Did everyone really think that I was taking the falling out between Ron and I badly? Sure, I knew we were both too stubborn and angry to admit it, but I did miss him as a friend. "See you at Slughorn's party tonight?"

It was great to actually have Ginny's creative eye at this point. I still had little hope of deciding what to wear. I left my hair quite loose, a few curls pinned back with a gold ribbon. Why was it that I could make decisions about almost everything, except a dress?

Finally, after much encouragement from Ginny, I chose a rose pink chiffon dress, which I first thought was a little low-cut, but Ginny persuaded me otherwise. Harry was staring at me as soon as I walked down the dormitory stairs.

"Well... Hermione..." he breathed. I blushed, my hair covering my ever so crimson cheeks as I fastened my shoe. "You look stunning."

I never realised why I didn't notice Harry properly before at the Yule Ball, his waistcoat was the same dazzling emerald as his eyes, the jacket tailored to perfection. It defined his arms and torso, clearly achieved by incessant Quidditch practice every week.

"I could say the same about you, Harry," I replied, gaining his full attention again as I wondered whether his gaze was lowering to my chest area.

It was strange that I was behaving so differently - why was I nervous now, with my hand tucked around Harry's arm, when I was absolutely fine and casual when we were simply close friends?

Professor Slughorn had clearly gone all out with the celebrations tonight. Mistletoe was hung from the ceiling, miniature reindeer flew around people's heads and a magnificent Christmas tree, decorated in all the house colours stood in the middle of the room.

"Harry m'boy, glad you could make it! Hermione too, here together I presume?" Slughorn called and waved over a waiter, who poured out generous flutes of sparkling Butterbeer for us.

"Yes we are."

"...she reminds me of your mother that girl - smart enough to fill a thousand books, good-natured..." Slughorn lowered his voice. I flushed at his compliment, clearly meant for Harry's ears only, but I couldn't exactly help that I was an exceptional listener.

"I'm sure that's an understatement, Professor-" Harry winked at me as he said it, causing me to turn beetroot red. Since when was he so suave—oh of course, that suit...

Their conversation was cut off by Filch, the caretaker, dragging none other than Draco Malfoy across the room to Slughorn.

"I found this student, wandering the corridors out of hours—he claims he was invited—"

"Fine, I was gate crashing! Happy?" Malfoy snapped, tearing his cloak away from Filch's grasp, a scowl stuck upon his face. Snape appeared at Malfoy's side. Yet something was different - they were both frowning at each other.

"Oh come on, it's Christmas, you may as well let him stay," Slughorn smiled jovially at them both, batting Filch away with his hand as he took another glug from his glass of Firewhiskey.

Snape pointed towards the door, which Malfoy started walking towards and announced harshly, "As I am his head of house, I have the choice as to whether he should be punished or not."

Harry's eyes and my own locked for a moment, clearly perplexed about how Snape and Malfoy were behaving. Slughorn and Harry started their conversation again, but I wasn't really listening - I thought Slughorn had probably had a glass of Firewhiskey too many.

That was when I realised Rita Skeeter was walking in my direction.

"Hermione Granger! What a surprise!" her sickly sweet voice trilled above the others. I could tell she most likely had a Quick-Quotes Quill behind her back so tried to turn away. I wasn't quick enough. "So, I hear that you and Harry are actually an item?"

She raised an eyebrow, her scarlet mouth curling at the side.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I mirrored her expression, feeling a lot more confident than I would have without the heels I was wearing.

"I'm only curious. How long have you been together?"

"Rita, if you must know, we've been together for... a while. A couple of weeks," I told her; her face lit up at the news, and I noticed a flicker of green feather behind her shoulder. Sure enough she had that quill with her.

"What attracted you to him?" She asked, offering a seat upon a plush green couch, but I declined. "Was it the rumour surrounding the fact that he's the 'Chosen One'? Is it the fact he's a Quidditch player? His popularity?"

"He's been my best friend for as long as I've known, and it has nothing to do with his status," I narrowed my eyes at the shorthand scratches that her quill was scribbling away. "We just... happened. That's all I have to say."

"I thought... whatshisname... Ronald Weasley was also a good friend?" she clearly hinted towards some sort of rumour. In her mind's eye she probably already had a whole love triangle story pictured.

"He is," I gave her a false smile. I never wanted to speak to Rita Skeeter again for as long as I lived. "Excuse me, I have to go."

Sighing heavily, I dashed through the crowd in search of Harry. He had been just behind me, so where did he vanish to? I bumped into him, hard, as I opened the dungeon door. Why was it that at any moment such as this we always ended up in extremely close situations? I swear I could see every little smudge on his glasses as he smiled at me.

"Harry? Where were you? You just disappeared..." I glanced at the ball of velvet in his hand, raising my eyebrows as if by instinct, waiting for his explanation... "Why on earth do you have your cloak?"

"I'll tell you later—"

"Harry!" A crocodile-skin purse waved madly above the heads of the other students; Rita Skeeter was trying to clamber her way through the crowd towards us.

"Bloody hell, get me away from that woman."

I didn't move. Something had happened - Harry had seen or heard something that shocked him, there was a confused look in his eyes. Not the oh-I-don't-understand-this-Transfiguration-question look, that he gave me very often, but as if he couldn't believe what he'd witnessed.

"Harry, are you okay?" I pressed on. "You look a little...unwell."

"You don't mind if I get some fresh air, do you?" he muttered. By this, I realised he was gesturing for me to come with him, his fingers slipping through mine again. I appreciated that simply by holding his hand, I felt as though he belonged to me, and I to him, just like our first kiss. Such a comforting feeling it gave me, his palm warming up my own, that I had a sudden giddy thought that I didn't want to let go.

The cold December chill hit me, my arms threatening to freeze as I walked down to the lake with him. Harry noticed my shiver, unfastening his cloak. The black velvet still had Harry's warmth on it as he tied the clasps around my own neck. His breath was shallow as I sensed the touch of his lips upon my throat for a moment, tenderly pressing against my pulse, and I released a breath I didn't realise I had been holding. I brushed my hands through his unruly hair as he looked back up at me.

"What's wrong?" I asked, as we sat under our familiar maple tree by the water's edge. I knew there was something he still wouldn't tell me.

"I followed Malfoy and Snape outside."

"I guessed as much."

"They started talking, arguing about something. It was like Snape was offering Malfoy help."

Snape? He was offering Draco Malfoy help with whatever he was doing? No matter how much we despised Snape as a teacher, there was no way that he would still be on Voldemort's side. Dumbledore trusted him. I voiced this opinion to Harry, "I'm sure Snape was trying to get information out of him. He is a member of the Order after all. If anything, I would be surprised if Snape didn't notice how oddly Malfoy's been acting."

"I knew you'd say that."

"You know me too well," I whispered, resting my cheek on his shoulder. He turned back towards the lake, his eyes set hard, as if staring into the distance. Something was still troubling him: what was it though? I queried him, "Harry?"

"I'm worried about you," he stated. Where on earth did he get that idea from? I sat back up, tilting my head with a questioning frown.

"Me? Look, I'll face up to Ron when the time comes, I swear—" I told him.

"It's not that...I...never mind."

His lips pressed softly against my forehead, its lines relaxing. I wondered if he was thinking back to the night he told me he wasn't sleeping well. Was that still affecting him? He caught me looking, our faces that much closer as the winter air felt alive and burning.

"I'm going to miss you over Christmas, you know," he breathed.

"This will be an early present then." My hand moved its way to the nape of his neck. His eyes never dropped from mine, our gaze focused only on each other. I was just about to kiss him when—FLASH!

"I do hope I didn't just spoil your moment!"

Oh Merlin me.

I turned around to see Rita Skeeter standing behind us with her arms crossed, her camera, with its tiny flapping wings, zooming around her head before shooting into the sky.

What? What good, in the name of Merlin, did she really expect would come of spreading more stories and photos around the wizarding world? I clenched my fists as I stood up— if she wasn't going to agree to my terms, only months after I'd let her go - then she clearly needed to have her facts straight.

"Harry, do you mind if I go to the Owlery? I need to send a letter to the Ministry about a certain Animagus..." I stressed my point clearly enough for Rita, who instead of acting smug, looked quite afraid.

"Now why wouldn't you want your photograph in the Prophet tomorrow, poppet?" Rita sniggered, patronising me.

"Knowing you and your twisted ways, I wouldn't be surprised if you made up some blatant lie. You haven't had any work for the Prophet in ages, have you? You're only hoping to find a good enough story about Harry and I so you still have Galleons in your purse. You know you can't print that," I demanded, following her as she strode towards a Thestral-drawn carriage by the Hogwarts gates.

"I don't think you're exactly in the position to tell me what I can and cannot do. Either of you," she huffed, snapping the door back.

"Let's just get going," Harry, who had remained silent during our little spat, laced his hand with mine. He seemed just as aggravated by Rita Skeeter as I was, narrowing his eyes as at her as she waved mockingly out of the carriage door. "Common Room?"

I nodded in reply, placing a chaste kiss on his cheek as we headed back to the castle. One thought continued to fly around my mind: Harry still wouldn't tell me what was really bothering him.