AN: Sorry about the wait. I have an assignment (or five) I should actually be doing, but my arm is too tired cos the one I'm doing now is supposed to be completely handwritten :S Anyway, enjoy, please review if you have 2 mins of free time. It would be much appreciated :D The next chapter should come soon as well, since I have my idea in a fully formed-thought. And don't worry, it won't suddenly take a R/Hr turn. HMS PUMPKIN PIE, through and through.

Sorry again for the shortness, but I planned it to be much longer, but figured it wouldn't work in terms of timing. I had a scene already written, but it was set in the future of several days and I still had all the following one and a half chapters to get through. So, yeah, R&R > read and RELAX :)


Chapter Five

"I mean, yes, I'm sure," Harry corrected himself. "We're definitely not doing that. Observe—me looking at you without 'googly eyes' at all." He stared her straight in the eyes and his thoughts wandered. He wondered whether it was true that the eyes were the windows to the soul. If his were, then why hadn't they become cloudy? He'd witnessed so much death, so much destruction, so much hate...it was hard not to feel as if his soul should be dirty. Could Hermione see this? Or did she see something else?

Hermione broke eye contact a split second after she saw the way Harry was looking at her. "I agree, we're not," she said, looking down at her twitching hands. She was nervous. How was Ron *really* feeling? Had his crush on her faded overnight? Or was he plotting something? No, she decided, he would never do that. Not to me and not to Harry. Unless...?

Harry mumbled on, "I, uh, just need to get my books for Potions. Did you finish your essay?"

"Oh, yes, of course. I finished it days ago," Hermione said without thinking. Her mind was just too muddled to be working properly. There was something going on and it was obvious that Ron was acting suspiciously. Usually he would always be trying to get her attention. Tapping her on the shoulder to ask for homework help, wandering by and asking if she would like to play a game of Wizards' Chess, or mentioning the fact that they were going to have Quidditch practice ('Do you want to come and watch?'). Now he was forcing her on Harry?

"Oh, right..." Harry trailed off. "Well, see you in the Great Hall. Or have you already eaten?"

Hermione lifted her head to look him in the eyes. Maybe it was her imagination, but he looked...concerned. About her wellbeing, about everything. It was in his body language and most of all, the clear green eyes she'd avoided just before. Sure, she liked Harry. But she couldn't possibly risk everything for a romantic relationship with him, not at the cost of their friendship and both their friendships with Ron. It was possible that it wouldn't work out anyway. She paused, about to reply. No, it wouldn't be worth it. Even if means I won't ever know what could've been, she thought. "Sorry, I already had lunch in the Hospital Wing. I'll see you in Potions later."

"Oh...okay then. I'll see you then."

As soon as Harry had left the room, Hermione made a beeline for the kitchens. She was absolutely starving and could really care less about elfish welfare right now.

*****

"So, Harry, got a date for the Yule Ball yet? Ron asked, pulling a dinner roll in half and spreading butter on it. Harry watched with eyes drawn for a few moments before he realised that it appeared that Ron's hands were shaking...only very slightly though. It was hardly noticeable.

He gave Ron a Look, and continued to pick at his lunch. Suddenly his spaghetti looked as unappealing as the thought of a sardine ice-cream (seemed conspicuously like too much Enid Blyton influence right there). "About what you said before—there's nothing going on between Hermione and me. What made you think that? Hermione and I, we're just friends."

Ron nearly let go of the hugest snort he'd ever had the compulsion to form, although if he had, he would surely have soup coming out of his nostrils by now. "You're lying and you know it. I can't stand seeing the both of you like this anymore. Please, just fess up. The both of you."

"No, Ron, you're mistaken," Harry said, banging a fist on the table only lightly enough to attract the attention of people sitting a few feet away from them on the Ravenclaw table. "I know you have...I don't know, but it's *something* for Hermione. *You* should ask her."

"This is ridiculous, and so is what you just said. I like her as a friend," Ron replied in hushed tones. He was turning red very quickly and looked anything but convincing. "I'm sure Dumbledore didn't give us this Ball 'as a treat' so we can fight over who likes Hermione. So it's settled. You like her."

"No I don't. *You* do. You're just scared she'll say no," Harry hissed back.

"No I'm not. Besides, why would she do that? She's not that kind of girl."

"I guess, but still, you should ask her. You know you want to," Harry said, stabbing his fork into his spaghetti.

"What are you talking about? I wasn't even thinking that." As Ron spoke, he gestured with his spoon, attracting strange looks from all around the Great Hall.

"Yes you were. Just ask her." Harry shoved another forkful of pasta into his mouth.

"No I wasn't! What made you think that? I thought I made it pretty clear that I reckon you and Hermione have the hots for each other."

"No, this is about something else. I have no clue what it is, but just ask her already," he snapped.

"Fine then, I will," Ron said, letting his spoon fall with a loud clang back into his now-empty bowl.

"Fine," Harry responded angrily.

"Fine."

"Fine."

Ron's eyes widened as he watched Harry leave the Great Hall, bag slung over one slouched shoulder and looking completely, well, pissed off about the whole thing. "Great...me and my big mouth."

*****

"Harry!" Hermione shouted after her friend. Something was up. It was obvious to even Malfoy, who had sensed that his insults weren't even being heard right from the beginning of the lesson. "Harry! Wait up!"

Potions had been quiet—much too quiet—and she knew from the moment he had entered the room that he was having a personal crisis. If only I was an Occlumens, thought Hermione, then I could know. Perhaps that's one of the reasons Snape seemed slightly less harsh towards Harry's work today. Nah, she decided, Snape has a better chance of having a good day than Harry has of Snape being nice to him just because he had a bad day.

Hermione glanced gingerly back towards the Potions lab. Snape was standing in the doorway with his arms folded and had his eyes squinted in Harry's direction. She turned back toward Harry and found that she was unable to explain why Snape would ever look at Harry like that.

"Harry!" She started running after Harry and didn't stop until she bumped straight into... "Ron!"

"Hermione? What are you doing running around in the halls like that?" Ron asked, watching her huffing and puffing from exhaustion. "I thought you'd gone mad."

"I was chasing after Harry," she said. "He didn't say a word to me more than 'can you please pass that jar?' during double Potions. Is he...angry at me or anything?"

"I...I don't know," he lied. "You'd have to ask him yourself."

"That was what I was going to do. Except I kind of got into a traffic jam with you," she said, laughing despite herself. "I'll see you in the common room later, then."

"Wait!"

Hermione turned back around, not sure if she should really be in a rush or not. Harry was far too predictable to be difficult to find. "What is it?"

"Uh...never mind, Hermione. Go find Harry."