Ron was shrieking as he swatted desperately at a swarm of tiny, vicious birds that were mercilessly striking at him with sharp golden beaks. For a moment Harry simply stumbled backwards, away from the assaulting birds, and pressed himself against the classroom wall, too shocked to do anything. Then he somehow got his wand in his hand and moved forward, brandishing it before him as he approached Ron.
"Evanesco!" He yelled, directing his wand at one bird who had hesitated for a second, scoping out its next attack. It disappeared, fizzling away like the bubbles in one of Dudley's beloved soda drinks. Ron, still shrieking, had now managed to fumble his wand out of his pocket and imitated Harry, blasting one of the birds with a vanishing spell.
Knowing now that Ron would be okay, Harry was able to move instantly on to another pressing matter. Abandoning his friend to deal with the consequences of his own idiotic actions, he hurried from the room. In the corridor, Lavender Brown was leaning against the wall, looking mildly irked.
"Where's Ron, Harry?" She asked in an overperformed lilt.
"Still inside. I think he could use your help." He told her dismissively, his eyes already wandering in search of Hermione.
"She went that way." Said Lavender, sounding more neutral and bored now, waving generally down to Harry's left with one arm. He pivoted and walked away without giving her a second glance. Hurrying down the hall, he wondered where Hermione would go now- would she risk slipping into another abandoned classroom after her experience with the last? The one thing he was sure of was that she would not return to the common room with the after-game party still in full swing. He checked the library, as it was nearby and often a safe haven for Hermione, but Madame Pince was there sorting through files at her desk. With her usual watchful eyes and ears, Hermione wouldn't be able to cry in private.
In the end he was forced to slip through the party, avoiding congratulatory hugs and cheers, to swipe the Marauder's map from his trunk in his dorm room. Quickly scanning it, he located Hermione in a small, unmarked room on the third floor. He pocketed the map and hurried there as quickly as he could. Harry wasn't even entirely sure why he felt such a strong need to follow her- he cared about her, of course, and wanted to help make her feel better. But he knew that she might prefer to be alone, and he couldn't quite understand the intense desperation he felt to find her.
The door to the room Hermione was in was closed firmly, and Harry had to give it a hard push to force it open. Sure enough, his best friend was there, crying softly on a bench against the wall. By the looks of her, she had been sobbing far more hysterically not long ago. The room was lit very dimly, only by moonlight flooding in from one small window. In the half light, Harry could make out that the room was somewhere between a classroom and a broom cupboard. It looked to be some sort of storage space, full of assorted old textbooks and trinkets.
"Harry." Whispered Hermione as she noticed him, quickly reaching up to wipe tears from her eyes.
"It's okay." He said quickly, closing the door behind him. "You can cry. Do you want me to leave you alone?"
"No, it's alright." Responded Hermione in a thick voice. "Thank you." Harry sat down beside her on the bench and hesitated for one indecisive moment before awkwardly wrapping an arm around her shoulder.
"I'm sorry about Ron. He can be a prat."
"You think?" Hermione asked, her voice breaking with a single sob.
"He doesn't mean to hurt you. He just-" Harry paused, struggling to find the words to properly defend Ron's actions. "He just doesn't understand, I guess. He'll come around, Hermione." He glanced at her. The patch of moonlight fell perfectly across her face, so he could clearly see the streaks of tears down her cheeks. Harry swallowed. "If he doesn't, he's an idiot, Hermione. Anyone would be an idiot to choose Lavender Brown over you."
Hermione gasped a little, then began crying again in earnest, pressing her face against his shoulder. Harry's stomach swooped in an odd way- anger at Ron, he suspected, for making Hermione so upset.
"Maybe I don't want him to 'come around'", she snapped suddenly, pulling her head back to look at Harry. "Maybe I'm sick of waiting around for him while he doesn't even realize what an idiot he's being."
Harry, staring at her, found himself raising his other arm- the one that wasn't around her shoulder- to wipe the tears from her cheeks. In that moment, he became abruptly aware of how close he was to her. Their faces were hardly more than a wand-length apart, and she was so close that he could see every detail of her face.
"Hermione." He breathed, and in that moment, he saw her become aware of it too. However, she did not pull away from him, and to his astonishment, he did not pull away from her either. His stomach swooped again, and this time he recognized it as a feeling similar to the one that he felt around Ginny. A violent nervousness descended upon him then, but still he did not pull away, though he did feel all of his muscles grow tense.
Hermione, no longer crying, placed her hand on top of Harry's, which still rested on her cheek.
"Maybe Ron isn't worth my time. Maybe-" She broke off but Harry was now desperate to know what she was going to say.
"Maybe what?" He asked softly. Their faces had somehow gotten closer together.
"Maybe I've been looking in the wrong place. Maybe someone else is worth my time a lot more than Ron ever has been."
Harry stared at her, trying to reconcile the current situation with the image of Hermione as a friend- and nothing more- in his mind. He couldn't.
And then he felt her hand close around his on her cheek, and her other arm wrap around him, and he was kissing her.
For some reason, the only coherent thought in his mind was 'Why am I always kissing girls who are crying?'