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Chapter Ten: One and One
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Where had the term gone? That was the question that echoed in the halls and common rooms, in dormitories and classrooms. Halloween had surprised everyone; November had melted into December and the Christmas exams were looming.
Revision habits had changed. Ron retreated to his bed every evening after six, cramming in silence. Anyone inconsiderate enough to break the quiet was given either a vicious scolding or a mild hex.
Harry and Hermione, however, preferred to study in the Common Room. Hermione's feelings had only grown over the term, making nights alone with Harry a form of slow torture.
She was lying on her front before the fire, encircled by books. A particularly thick Transfiguration textbook was in front of her. Harry was slumped in a red leather armchair, reading the same book on the chest-high desk of books on his lap.
Hermione jumped when he slammed the book shut and dropped it onto the heap of books by the side of the chair. "Sorry," he said. "I just can't do any more."
"Me neither," she sighed.
There was an awkward silence, nobody knowing what to say. Harry amusedly remembered other uncomfortable moments with Hermione. In first year, she had hugged him and called him a great wizard. In second, she had hugged him again. And twice in fourth year, plus kissed him on the cheek. Last year she had kissed him again. And she'd been so weird this year- One and one made two. Colour rose in Harry's cheeks. It dawned on Harry that Hermione-
"Look," she said suddenly, "I can't keep it secret any more."
"Keep what a secret?" Harry tried to keep his voice light and casual, but it trembled ever so slightly; he guessed what was coming and it neatly followed his train of thought.
"You know I - I really like you, don't you Harry?"
"I'd like to think so," forcing a laugh, "if we're friends!
"No, Harry. I mean, I REALLY like you."
Hermione had said the one thing that could destroy their friendship forever. It was with a jolt of the stomach that Harry realised that he sort of felt the same way. A bubbly feeling rippled his system, but he ignored it. Their friendship had to come first. If Hermione was in love with Harry, it would be wrong to string her along. That's what it would be; Harry liked Hermione as more than a friend, but he didn't love her.
"Hermione-" he began uneasily, but his sentence was silenced by the soft pair of lips that covered his mouth. Time stopped. Harry submitted.
*****
So engrossed were they that they never noticed a visitor to the Common Room. The third friend had emerged from his haven to find his roommate. On beholding his friends, the third friend turned silently and retreated to his bed. And had anyone noticed his presence, they would have seen a single freckled hand touch a place on his cheek; and had anyone remembered it, that was the spot where a friend had kissed him a year before.
*****
The clock struck twelve and the pair parted. "I suppose we'd better go to bed," said Harry. Realising what he had just said, he began to stammer a correction.
"I know what you meant, Harry," grinned Hermione. "You're right. Good night!"
"'Night," said Harry. Each climbed the staircase to their dorm and went to sleep.
Chapter Ten: One and One
::::::--------------
Where had the term gone? That was the question that echoed in the halls and common rooms, in dormitories and classrooms. Halloween had surprised everyone; November had melted into December and the Christmas exams were looming.
Revision habits had changed. Ron retreated to his bed every evening after six, cramming in silence. Anyone inconsiderate enough to break the quiet was given either a vicious scolding or a mild hex.
Harry and Hermione, however, preferred to study in the Common Room. Hermione's feelings had only grown over the term, making nights alone with Harry a form of slow torture.
She was lying on her front before the fire, encircled by books. A particularly thick Transfiguration textbook was in front of her. Harry was slumped in a red leather armchair, reading the same book on the chest-high desk of books on his lap.
Hermione jumped when he slammed the book shut and dropped it onto the heap of books by the side of the chair. "Sorry," he said. "I just can't do any more."
"Me neither," she sighed.
There was an awkward silence, nobody knowing what to say. Harry amusedly remembered other uncomfortable moments with Hermione. In first year, she had hugged him and called him a great wizard. In second, she had hugged him again. And twice in fourth year, plus kissed him on the cheek. Last year she had kissed him again. And she'd been so weird this year- One and one made two. Colour rose in Harry's cheeks. It dawned on Harry that Hermione-
"Look," she said suddenly, "I can't keep it secret any more."
"Keep what a secret?" Harry tried to keep his voice light and casual, but it trembled ever so slightly; he guessed what was coming and it neatly followed his train of thought.
"You know I - I really like you, don't you Harry?"
"I'd like to think so," forcing a laugh, "if we're friends!
"No, Harry. I mean, I REALLY like you."
Hermione had said the one thing that could destroy their friendship forever. It was with a jolt of the stomach that Harry realised that he sort of felt the same way. A bubbly feeling rippled his system, but he ignored it. Their friendship had to come first. If Hermione was in love with Harry, it would be wrong to string her along. That's what it would be; Harry liked Hermione as more than a friend, but he didn't love her.
"Hermione-" he began uneasily, but his sentence was silenced by the soft pair of lips that covered his mouth. Time stopped. Harry submitted.
*****
So engrossed were they that they never noticed a visitor to the Common Room. The third friend had emerged from his haven to find his roommate. On beholding his friends, the third friend turned silently and retreated to his bed. And had anyone noticed his presence, they would have seen a single freckled hand touch a place on his cheek; and had anyone remembered it, that was the spot where a friend had kissed him a year before.
*****
The clock struck twelve and the pair parted. "I suppose we'd better go to bed," said Harry. Realising what he had just said, he began to stammer a correction.
"I know what you meant, Harry," grinned Hermione. "You're right. Good night!"
"'Night," said Harry. Each climbed the staircase to their dorm and went to sleep.