11

A/N: I own nothing. Reviews are appreciated!

A/N 2: While the overall story is rated NC-17, the following chapter is rated PG.

Everyone knows I'm in
Over my head
Over my head
With eight seconds left in overtime
She's on your mind
She's on your mind

Let's rearrange
I wish you were a stranger I could disengage
Just say that we agree and then never change
Soften a bit until we all just get along

Over My Head (Cable Car) – The Fray

xxx

"She did what!?" Ron exclaimed, shaking Harry by the shoulders. "Hermione? Hermione Granger? The Gryffindor girl, with the brown, curly hair?"

Harry nodded, grinning proudly. Normally, he would have been struggling between the option of telling Ron the details of his afternoon and keeping them secretly to himself. However, Ron had seen Hermione drag Harry down the hall and out of sight. He'd also seen him return, quite disheveled, to the common room forty-five minutes later. Of course, he could have made something up – like she wanted to share notes or something like that, but the truth had been so, so much better.

"I know! Out of character, but obviously not out of the realm of possibility." Harry smiled.

Ron snorted with laughter.

"Sure, say that now. Later you'll find out you've been snogging her while she was under the Imperius Curse."

"Great, Ron, thanks. Way to ruin the moment for me."

"Hey, you never know!" Ron shrugged.

Harry rolled his eyes at Ron, but couldn't help himself from beaming. The whole morning still seemed surreal to him. He couldn't wait to see Hermione again. He couldn't wait to tell her how amazing he thought their escapade had been and how perfect he thought she was. Luckily, it seemed he didn't need to wait long. Hermione entered the common room carrying a large stack of books, a few of which looked rather furry. She dropped them down onto one of the tables then turned to face Harry and Ron. Harry swallowed hard. He could feel Ron's eyes burning into the side of his head and could only imagine the smirk dashed across his face. Hermione, however, was completely unfazed.

"I picked up a few books from the library that I thought Hagrid might like," she said, motioning to the pile.

Hagrid wasn't exactly welcome in the school library. Madam Pince had made it quite clear that he was far too loud and large and distracting for a library setting and although he was never technically banned, Hagrid preferred to avoid most confrontation. Truthfully, the few times Hagrid had gone into the school's library, reading had not really been his primary objective, so Harry doubted he lost any sleep over the issue. Hermione, however, had made it her personal mission to literally bring the library to Hagrid, picking out a few books each week to bring down to his hut. Harry wasn't even sure he could read, but every time she brought new books, Hagrid acted as though she'd given him gold. He supposed the thought was nice enough.

"Ah, just what Hagrid needs. More books," Ron said, sarcastically. "Hope you picked ones with lots of pictures."

Harry laughed, a bit loudly. Hermione didn't seem to notice She glared at them then stuck out her tongue.

xxx

As they headed towards Hagrid's hut, Harry's mind buzzed numbly. He was waiting for Hermione to make some kind of an acknowledgement that this morning had actually happened, but so far there had been none. No wink, no whisper, nothing. For the most part, Hermione and Ron argued, occasionally asking for Harry's input as to who was right or wrong. Things between all three of them were completely normal and Harry wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. He was still trying to figure it out when they reached the edge of Hagrid's garden, where he stood with his back to them, watering an array of plants and vegetables.

"Hello, Hagrid!" Hermione called, her arms clutching the pile of books. Hagrid, startled, turned around quickly, dousing them with a stream of water. Ron cried out in surprise.

"Blimey, yeh three! Startled me there, yeh did!" Hagrid snapped his fingers and the stream of water stopped.

"I picked you up a few more books," Hermione said brightly, although her face looked pained as she stared down at the wet pile. Hagrid grinned and bowed his head in thanks.

"C'mon inside. I'll put on a pot o' tea fer yeh." Hagrid climbed, as carefully as possible, out of the garden and up to the hut, opening the large, heavy door for his three visitors. They entered, each taking their usual place as he set out four, soup-bowl sized teacups.

"So how yeh three bin? Beautiful weather! Bin havin' a nice day?" Hagrid asked, filling a massive teapot with water.

Ron coughed loudly. Harry avoided his stare, which he could feel now burning into the back of his head.

"Nice enough," Hermione answered politely. "Busy. I've got three essays and Snape wants us to memorize our Potions chapter."

Hearing Hermione respond so nonchalantly, Harry felt the need to add his own answer.

"I've had a great day," he blurted out. Great? He had a great day? His rendezvous with Hermione far surpassed 'great'. Would she be offended by such a lackluster word as 'great'?

"Superb, brilliant, wonderful day," Harry corrected. The words sounded foolish and he could feel his ears getting hot. This time, Harry did turn to look at Ron, whose face was a peculiar shade of purple as he struggled to suppress his laughter. Harry suddenly wondered if telling Ron had been a mistake. Tearing his eyes away from Ron, he glanced nervously at Hermione. She was idly flipping through one of the books she had carried down, completely unfazed by his outburst. A stretch of silence filled the hut. Ron's eyes darted around the room and Hagrid raised his eyebrows slightly.

"So, did you finish planting those Cryt-thingys?" Ron asked, breaking the quiet.

"Crysthblooms? Yeh I did. Things already started sproutin' too," Hagrid answered, beaming.

"Crysthblooms?" Hermione echoed, looking up and wriggling her nose. She had stopped flipping pages and was now leaning forward on her seat in curiosity.

Ron and Hagrid exchanged glances.

"Harry, why don' yeh show Hermione the Crysthblooms we planted. Bet yeh won' even recognize 'em now that they've sprouted."

Harry narrowed his eyes at Ron then swallowed hard. Hermione looked at him expectantly and he shrugged. Well, now seems as good a time as any to get her alone and talk, he thought. Harry could feel his heart speed up. He cleared his throat.

"Alright."

xxx

The times before, Harry had no prior knowledge they'd be sharing some alone time. They had been instances of spontaneity and each time, he'd been completely caught off guard. Now, as they walked side by side away from Hagrid's hut, Harry's nerves were getting the best of him. For as much time as he'd spent thinking about this moment, he'd never actually formulated a plan. He'd never really prepared at all.

They continued walking in silence until they'd reached the edge of the forest where the Crysthblooms had been planted. The once large, green, leafy bulbs were now a blinding white. A few thin, short, bright orange stubs had emerged from within each one, parting the leafy folds.

"Wow," Harry murmured, surprised by the appearance of the cabbage-like plants he had helped Hagrid plant only a few days ago.

"I take it they didn't always look like this," Hermione said, squatting down to further inspect one. Harry shook his head.

Hermione studied it carefully, being sure to leave enough distance between her self and the foreign plant. She knew all too well that most things Hagrid got his hands on were dangerous. After a few more moments, she stood.

"Interesting," she said, brushing off her knees. "What are they're used for."

Harry shrugged.

"Dunno, but I'm sure you'll make a bee-line for the library and find out as soon as we go back to the castle," he teased. Hermione stuck out her tongue, but smiled. A long pause hung between them.

"Bet the tea will be ready soon." She made a gagging sound and giggled. Hagrid was not known for his cooking skills.

Harry rolled his eyes and laughed, feeling some of the tension leave his shoulders. When they had quieted again, he took a deep breath.

"Hermione…"

"We really should get back though," she interrupted, moving passed Harry, towards Hagrid's home. Instinctively, Harry's hand shot out and grabbed her by the arm. His eyes widened nervously as she twisted her head to look at him, her brows furrowed.

"Honestly, Harry. The tea is not that bad," she laughed, shaking her arm to loosen his hold.

"It's not that," he said softly, releasing her from his grip.

"Well, what then?" she asked, a tinge of annoyance lacing her voice. For a second, Harry stared at her incredulously. Then frustration overwhelmed him.

"You can't be serious! You don't think there's anything else we should possibly discuss?"

Hermione's lips pressed into a tight, thin line. She made a show of scratching her head thoughtfully, then shrugged.

"Nope."

"What!?" Harry cried with exasperation. "Hermione, what is going on here? One minute you've got your tongue down my throat and the next you'll barely give me the time of day, or you'll ask me about homework, or…or…you'll talk to me about tea. I don't know what you're trying to do to me, but if your objective is to drive me absolutely nuts, you're succeeding."

Hermione stared at him, unblinking. Her face turned pink and her eyes shimmered with a wetness that immediately made Harry feel as though he'd eaten twenty of Hagrid's aptly named rock cakes.

"Well, Harry Potter, if that's how you feel…fine," she yelled, her voice much higher than he remembered ever having heard it. "I'll be sure to keep my tongue to myself from now on, thank you very much."

Harry sputtered incoherently. This was not at all the way he had wanted things to go. Not even close. Hermione glared at him then spun on her heels.

"Hermione, no…I just…Wait…" he called, his voice much softer than before. She didn't turn around. She continued stalking away – not towards Hagrid's, but all the way back to the castle.

Harry stood at the edge of the Forbidden Forest feeling completely disoriented. His stomach churned sickeningly and his ears were hot with anger. He wasn't sure if he was more livid with himself or Hermione, but one thing was certain – things had not gone well. His hands were clenched into fists at his side as he spun around and kicked the nearest Crysthbloom as hard as he could. It dislodged from the soil and rolled into the darkness of the forest, emitting a horrible, hissing noise. Harry ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. She could not have been serious, he thought, replaying the argument in his head.

Harry had always seen Hermione as the logical one of their group. She had a great head on her shoulders and a multitude of rational explanations available for all situations. Perhaps, this was why her behavior was so unsettling. Something simply was not adding up. Harry's thoughts floated to his dormitory and the petite box tucked away in his dresser. He felt a tug deep within his chest. The contents of the box would explain so much on his end, but he'd feel like a fool giving it to her now. After all, it wasn't his feelings being called into question. It was Hermione who was being unreadable and stubborn and… bloody impossible! Harry groaned.

He had never been good with girls, ever. For one thing, he'd never even had any real contact with a member of the opposite sex until he was eleven. He had been ostracized during his years at public school and he certainly didn't consider Aunt Petunia and Aunt Marge to have any feminine qualities whatsoever. It completely baffled him that so many girls at Hogwarts positively fawned over him. Well, of course there was the whole fame, money, hero thing. Harry shook his head. He despised it, honestly. He never asked for any of this and he never wanted glory and infamy. He certainly never wanted to fall for the one female who treated him like a human being instead of a rare prize.

Yet, without ever realizing it was happening, he had. That fact alone would have been plenty to grapple with, but the addition of Hermione's wonky behavior just increased the situation's difficulty tenfold. The dull buzz of an impending headache settled behind Harry's eyes. Maybe some tea would do him good, he thought, remembering Hagrid and Ron were waiting. Hagrid and Ron. Another bubble of anger boiled up from the pit of Harry's stomach. They had sent him out here with Hermione; they had orchestrated this whole mess. He gritted his teeth as he strode back in the direction of Hagrid's hut, planning to give them both a piece of his mind.