Disclaimer: all characters, settings, ideas, etc. are property of JK Rowling. If you are reading this Rowling, please don't sue my sorry ass, 'cuzz I gots no cash$$$ :) enjoy!

Rated: PG-13 for some violence, and date violence

Summary: A HP/HG romance/action with a twist of angst. After a drinking Christmas party, who gets to have fun? And what will be harder to face for Harry, his enemy's wand or his friends heart? This chapter is a bit more intense, and is really the climax of the story (violence indeed). We have gotten to the Friends and Love, now here are the Enemies. :) enjoy!

Shout out: This is my obligatory shout out to all those who have taken the time to review my first fic, I must express my eternal gratitude: Thanx a bunch to Demosthenes42, Ursula Gibbons, and QueenoftheSun. To Demo; I am thrilled that you like it, and believe me I would write volumes if I could, but experience has shown me that not many people share your unique patience when it comes to reading! ;) Despite my masochistic request for flames, you all insisted upon being helpful and supportive *arghhh* JK!!! I apologize for the "dobbie" mistake (and others I found while re-reading my story), I really have no excuse except that I am busy all day with school and whatnot and write these chaps around 3 am. *ugh-ugh, grungy black coffee, blackorc's favorite, ^snort^* :) well then, onward!

Hogwarts: Friends, Enemies, and Love

Chapter 3: Hermione's Secret

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The fairy lights flickered ominously. At first, all Hermione could do was stare back at Harry. His mind was racing, why had he pulled away? He knew as he looked into her bloodshot eyes. "Harry," she said in an odd voice, "what's wrong, is it me?" He didn't know how to form his reply right away. He looked at the golden vase of peacock feathers while his mind worked in an attempt to be tactful. "Come on Harry," Hermione's voice was becoming increasingly shrill, "I know that I'm not the prettiest girl in the school, but I AM a girl, at least give me that!" Harry faltered momentarily, "Ofcourse Hermione, but-" she jumped from the imperial purple couch and cut him off with a passionate sob and she cried, "Well Harry, are you gay or something? Would you rather do this with Ron? Don't look at me like that Harry, come on!" She released another sob that made her shaking body lurch as if she had been struck a blow. "You're alone with a giddy girl in the fantasy of her dreams, do I have to spell it out for you!?" He could only stare at her in amazement, forgetting what he was about to say. "Oh," continued Hermione, "that's right, I forgot, Harry is perfect. The problem must be with the Granger girl!" She screamed as she violently knocked the golden vase over, sending reflections of the fairy's luminescence dancing against the scattered constellation of peacock feathers slowly falling to the ground. Her face was running with tears of sorrow, like nature's waterfall that ever cries for all things lost and good.

"Hermione, you're so beautiful, you're the smartest, most tender example of witch perfection I've ever seen." Her face flushed a dangerous shade of red, as she yelled in response, "what in bloody Voldemort's name then is wrong?!" The orbs containing the magical creatures now were giving off a radiance of different potency, making Harry dizzy and increasing the throbbing in his head. Harry took a deep breath, "Hermione, look at you, you are entirely drunk. You aren't acting like you usually do, you don't know what's going on. It would be wrong." She only looked up at him from behind a veil of matted hair and tears, "Did it ever occur to you that perhaps I wanted to get drunk? Did you ever think that maybe the nerdy little mudblood wanted to have fun for just one night with someone she loved and could trust? Maybe I needed a warm night to cuddle and share secrets with someone, not just the cold girl's dorm with a lonely pillow to cry into and the empty darkness to hide your fears! God Harry, I love you!" She took a step closer, "and I hate you!" she howled in despair as she pounded her fists against Harry's chest.

Harry didn't know what to do at this point. He wasn't about to violate his best friend. His mind was swimming in the torrent of emotions. Was Hermione drunk, or was this really the way she felt about him? How long was this going on... did he feel the same way about her? Was this how she... ******** Harry's thoughts were splintered and cast in every direction as the door behind him swung fully open. The darkness outlined the figure of a tall, strong boy. As he stepped into the room, his presence joined banners with Hermione's rage to create an army against which Harry had no fortitude. "Everything ok? After you left the feast I wanted to make sure you were alright, then I heard voices yelling," Marcus said in a voice dripping with a goblin's truth that sounded too concerned. "We're fine," Harry said, so distracted that he barely noticed his mouth forming the words. Marcus looked at Hermione crying and ignored Harry, exclaiming in faux sympathy, "What's wrong, my sweet Mione?" She looked up at him with eyes that revealed crushed dreams and grief that only came from adolescent angst and tragedy. "Sure, I'm fine. You always tend to be fine when you're best friend doesn't have the balls to say he doesn't love you!"

In a moment he had slinked up to her and had his arms around her. "Shhh, Mione. Everything's going to be ok, Marcus is here, alright? Don't upset yourself." He then tuned to Harry for the first time, "perhaps it would be best if you left." Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. He turned to Hermione for support, but she only looked at him with the agony of ages in her earth brown eyes. Harry stood on the spot, not sure what to do. Some of the fairies whispered, creating a vibrating noise that permeated the room. Marcus took one arm off Hermione to cast a lock of golden hair out of his face, glaring at Harry, "please Potter, do you have to upset her any more? Don't you think you've done enough already?" Why was he going to stand here and take this? He had done the right thing, and now he was being chastised for it. Harry turned as a though he had lost a path he new well. He left through the door feeling as if his stomach were a bottomless pit. The door slammed shut behind him with a resounding noise that Harry didn't hear, and it echoed throughout the deserted hall.

Harry's head felt as empty as his insides as he started to walk towards the Gryffindor common room. He turned the corner and stopped to look at a painting of a black orc snoring in his sleep, his picture illuminated by the moonlight streaming in through a window. The orc was resting in his battle gear, his sword had a dead pig skewered on it; the impaled creature looked as though it had a few bites taken out of its hind flanks already. Harry's pulse quickened as he saw a lightning bolt etched boldly on the helmet of the orc, right on the forehead. He ran his fingers across his scar as he thought to himself, 'what have I done that was so wrong? Why was Hermione so upset? He had always liked Hermione very much, but did he love her? Was he no better than the barbaric and selfish orc in the painting?' His sequence of thoughts were interrupted by a noise down the hall. Harry retraced his steps to hear what it was. He panicked as he heard Hermione's voice, "Marcus... Marcus don't." He was running towards the door now. "Marcus stop, you're hurting me!" she was saying. Harry was three steps from the door, now two steps. "Marcus NO!" Hermione was screaming now. Harry felt all the hair on his body stand on end as he reached for the handle.

End of Chapter 3

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