Um... hi. Look, I am COMPLETELY and utterly sorry that I have not updated It Just Takes Two Weeks. I really probably should be updating instead of writing this, but I'm waiting for someone to call... and I really need to write.

Anyway, this will, of course, be a H/Hr fic, with a little bit of fun poked at the R/Hr ship. I believe that there will be a little... angst, I guess, in this. Please remember that this is my first time writing a story with angst...

On to the story!!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. If I did, Harry and Hermione would have gotten together way back in the first book!

He was doing it again. Flirting with me. Staring at me. Making me laugh so hard until I was in tears. The hard part was that he would never be mine again.

I had been working on the transfiguration essay due next week. We were both sitting in the common room. Harry was sitting across from me. Because it was 2:30 in the morning, no one was here. It was just the two of us, and the strange thing was that it was comforting.

Harry and I had dated last year. Actually, we had been dating for the past two years, 16 months to be precise. It was like a fairytale. I still remember the day he had asked me to be his girlfriend.

We had been at Hogsmede before summer break. It was the last trip of the year. Ron was off with Lavender; he was still with her at the time. Harry had casually asked me if I was going on the trip the week before and, of course, I said yes. When the trip had finally come, I had butterflies in my stomach. I had liked Harry for ages, ever since first year. I knew that this was just an outing between friends, but my heart wouldn't believe me. Anyway, the beginning of the trip was fantastic. We both joked and teased each other, even flirting a little every once and a while. I had turned to go into the bookstore when Harry grabbed my arm.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Flash Back~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We were just talking a laughing like we always do. We had been talking about Ron and his date and thinking about what could go wrong. I was happy for him; he finally had the courage to ask out Lavender, something that I had not been able to do. Unfortunately, I knew that some other blonde had been looking to ask him out as well, but she was too late. I felt so sorry for Luna yesterday when she came to me, crying her eyes out because Ron had gotten together with Lavender.

I pulled myself out of my revere. Harry grabbed my arm and was talking to me. I tried to listen to what he had said.

"Hermione," he asked, "would you...um..." He trailed off. I thought it was quite cute.

"Would I what, Harry?" I asked, coaxing him to continue.

"Would you... want to go out with me something?" He glanced at his shoes the entire time. I was speechless for a minute, going over what he had said in my head.

I was speechless. Harry Potter, the boy who I had loved silently for the past six years, had just asked me out. I could not trust my voice to actually say something coherent, so I nodded. Harry beamed and grabbed my hand.

I was stunned. His grin became bigger. "Um, Hermione, you want to go inside? It's a little warm out here."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~End Flashback~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For the next 12 months or so, we were inseparable. I wrote letters to him over the summer and we stayed in contact, even being able to do something together once or twice. The school year was... fantastic.

Then he started to drift away. I have absolutely no idea why. I have a hunch that it was because he thought that Voldemort would hurt him, or maybe even hurt me. But for whatever the reason, we eventually broke up. It was... unbearable. I felt that my heart had broken right smack down the middle. It didn't help anything that we had most of the same classes; every time I would see him I would almost always have at least one tear fall down my face during the class.

Somehow, we were able to get over the awkward break up stage. Now, we are the best of friends once again. Everything is hunky-dory.

Well, at least on the outside it is.

I still love Harry. I think it scares me how much I love him. I thought I could get over him, but I was completely wrong.

Okay, so you know two things. One: Harry and I dated and broke up. Two: I, Hermione Granger, love Harry Potter.

So, back to the present.

We had been flirting for the past month or so. Every once in a while, I would catch him staring at me from across the classroom or the common room. I would sometimes playfully whack him on the shoulder and he would hug me, always a little too long than what would be considered friends.

Right now, as you know, we are sitting in the Common Room doing homework.

He's staring at me again. I glance up and find his green eyes staring intently at me. I grin slightly and look back down at my homework, thinking that he'd stop.

He doesn't.

"Harry," I say, tapping the edge of my quill on his paper, "focus."

He blinks rapidly and starts to read his book. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, folding my hands behind my back and stretching. Harry glances up from his paper.

"Why do you do that?" he asks abruptly.

"What? Stretch? I've been sitting here for 7 hours now doing homework. I'm stiff," I explain. He grins.

"I know you should stretch. I'm just asking why you stretch like that."

By now, I'm extremely confused. I don't know what he is talking about.

"Stretch like what, Harry?" I ask. He puffs out his chest and stretches his arms behind his back.

"You look like you're showing off your chest or something," he says quietly. I burst out laughing, my face going beet red, almost as red as Ron's hair.

"I'm not showing off my chest, Mr. Potter. And if you don't like the way I stretch, then turn around or something," I snap, my face going redder. Harry winks at me.

"Who says I don't like it?"

My jaw drops, my face still going red, if that was even possible. Harry bursts out laughing. "I'm sorry," he says, chuckling, "that was out of line."

"Don't- don't apologize," I sputter, "it's my fault for the way that I stretch." I glance down at my homework, begging for my face to stop flushing. Harry laughs one last time and looks at his homework.

I stare at him. I don't mean to, but I do. Our table is right in front of the fire. I can see his eyes really well. They're so pretty, sort of like emeralds. They shine with mirth, something that I have not seen in his eyes for months. My eyes travel further down his face to his nose. He has a rather cute nose. I never realized it, but he has one or two freckles splattered on his nose. He wrinkles said nose, as if he just read something that he did not agree with. Once again, my eyes travel further south... to his mouth.

His lips are parted. They really have a nice color, sort of like a pink rose, but... different. They look so soft, very kissable...

Stop it, Hermione. You're in dangerous territory. Besides, you already know how he kisses. Don't do anything stupid.

I take a deep breath. I do not want to travel down that path again. Those last four months with him were dreadful. I lost all communication with my best friend. I'd rather have him stay my best friend and have him than have my boyfriend and lose him completely.

I snap out of my revere, shaking my head. I suddenly realize that Harry was staring at me back. I blink.

"I think you should listen to your own advice, 'Mione. Focus." He smirks. I stick my tongue out at him, blushing. I don't think I have blushed this many times in years. I laugh. As soon as I am about to say something back, my brain shuts down. I cannot think of one blasted thing to say.

"You know, I cannot think of anything to say... so, I am going to go grab my book and sit on the couch, if you don't mind," I say, throwing my completed homework into my bag. I glance over at Harry's work.

He has not written a single thing down.

"Harry," I sigh. He glances up at me, then sees where I am looking. He grins.

"I'll get it done, 'Mione. Just like I always do. Why don't you go to bed?" he asks. I shake my head.

"Not until you're done. I need to make sure that you do your work... and besides, who will edit it when you make a mistake?" I ask, grinning. He laughs and watches me as I walk over to the couch, sitting down to read.

I hear Harry's quill scratch the paper periodically. I glance over at him every once in a while. About a half-hour later, I walk back over to him, placing my arm on his shoulder. He subconsciously leans his head on my shoulder as I read over his work.

"Um, Harry, the spell that you're researching deals with hamsters, not hampers. Oh, and we're transfiguring them into mice, not dice. What time is it?" I ask. He checks his watch and yawns.

"3:00 in the morning," he replies sleepily.

I remove my arm from his shoulder and his head falls down. He glares at me and I ignore him. "Harry, this paper isn't due until tomorrow and you have to wake up in 3 hours. Go to bed," I order him. He sighs, collecting his materials.

"Thanks for the help, 'Mione," he says, giving me a one armed hug. My heart soars as he packs up his stuff and walks upstairs. He turns and waves to me at the top step before entering his dorm. I walk back over to the couch and grab my book and a blanket out of my bag, curling up to read and fall asleep.