Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor shall I ever! -pout-
She sat on her bed in the dorm, half-listening to Pansy and Bridgett's conversation about Quidditch. She was mostly thinking about Harry, and how she should ask him about the girl on the couch.
"Hermione? Are you listening? I just asked you a question!" A stubborn voice cried out, shattering her thoughts. Hermione looked up.
"Er, sorry, Pans. Ask me again." She smiled. Pansy shrugged and walked over to Hermione's bed, sitting down beside her.
"I said, who do you want to go to the ball with this year?" Pansy grabbed up some of Hermione's bushy hair, and started playing with it. She began braiding a strand. Hermione bit her lip.
"Umm don't know yet." She lied. Pansy raised an eyebrow. "You do, too. Why else would you be talking about Harry in your sleep every night?" Bridgett laughed, and Pansy let go of Hermione's hair. Hermione gasped and sat back, grabbing a pillow and holding it to her chest defensively.
"I do not talk about him in my sleep!" She retorted, hugging the pillow tightly. Pansy giggled.
"You do. Remember, Bridgett? What was she talking about last night?" Bridgett thought for a moment, scratching her chin.
"Oh yeah! I remember!" She cried, hopping up, and joining Pansy and Hermione on the bed. "She was saying things like, 'Harry, why did you do this to me? How could you?' And shit like that." Hermione gasped.
"Shut up, Bridgett! You are lying, and you know it." But secretly, her insides gave a lurch. She had to be more careful! If she spilled out any more secrets in her sleep, and especially with Bridgett and Pansy hearing them, the whole school would know!
"Okay, okay. You shouldn't deny it though, Hermione. We know you totally have the hots for him. And we don't blame you, he is so totally sexy!" Pansy said, giggling. Bridgett laughed. "Yeah. The boy does have a nice ass." Bridgett said, making a pouty face. Hermione almost jumped on her. How could they talk about him like that? There was so much more to Harry than his looks! He was actually a pretty amazing person! She remembered all the times she had gone to Harry with problems, and cried into his broad shoulders. Hermione must have been day dreaming again, because Pansy was poking her in the arm.
"Herms? God, we are so worried about you." She said, and her and Bridgett got up and left the dorm. Hermione sighed, and fell backwards onto her bed, still hugging her pillow tightly to her chest. *
The next day, Hermione came face to face with her worst nightmare. She had come down the stairs ready for breakfast, and had stopped dead in her tracks as her eyes met those of Harry's, and someone else's she knew she had seen somewhere: The couch.
"Hey, Hermione. Ready for breakfast?' Harry asked. Hermione couldn't speak; she just stared straight at the girl, her mouth open. Harry walked over and grabbed her arm. "Come on, let's go to the Great Hall. I'm famished." Hermione scowled. Since when had Harry used the word "famished'? Apparently ever since he met this girl. She told herself.
She sat on her bed in the dorm, half-listening to Pansy and Bridgett's conversation about Quidditch. She was mostly thinking about Harry, and how she should ask him about the girl on the couch.
"Hermione? Are you listening? I just asked you a question!" A stubborn voice cried out, shattering her thoughts. Hermione looked up.
"Er, sorry, Pans. Ask me again." She smiled. Pansy shrugged and walked over to Hermione's bed, sitting down beside her.
"I said, who do you want to go to the ball with this year?" Pansy grabbed up some of Hermione's bushy hair, and started playing with it. She began braiding a strand. Hermione bit her lip.
"Umm don't know yet." She lied. Pansy raised an eyebrow. "You do, too. Why else would you be talking about Harry in your sleep every night?" Bridgett laughed, and Pansy let go of Hermione's hair. Hermione gasped and sat back, grabbing a pillow and holding it to her chest defensively.
"I do not talk about him in my sleep!" She retorted, hugging the pillow tightly. Pansy giggled.
"You do. Remember, Bridgett? What was she talking about last night?" Bridgett thought for a moment, scratching her chin.
"Oh yeah! I remember!" She cried, hopping up, and joining Pansy and Hermione on the bed. "She was saying things like, 'Harry, why did you do this to me? How could you?' And shit like that." Hermione gasped.
"Shut up, Bridgett! You are lying, and you know it." But secretly, her insides gave a lurch. She had to be more careful! If she spilled out any more secrets in her sleep, and especially with Bridgett and Pansy hearing them, the whole school would know!
"Okay, okay. You shouldn't deny it though, Hermione. We know you totally have the hots for him. And we don't blame you, he is so totally sexy!" Pansy said, giggling. Bridgett laughed. "Yeah. The boy does have a nice ass." Bridgett said, making a pouty face. Hermione almost jumped on her. How could they talk about him like that? There was so much more to Harry than his looks! He was actually a pretty amazing person! She remembered all the times she had gone to Harry with problems, and cried into his broad shoulders. Hermione must have been day dreaming again, because Pansy was poking her in the arm.
"Herms? God, we are so worried about you." She said, and her and Bridgett got up and left the dorm. Hermione sighed, and fell backwards onto her bed, still hugging her pillow tightly to her chest. *
The next day, Hermione came face to face with her worst nightmare. She had come down the stairs ready for breakfast, and had stopped dead in her tracks as her eyes met those of Harry's, and someone else's she knew she had seen somewhere: The couch.
"Hey, Hermione. Ready for breakfast?' Harry asked. Hermione couldn't speak; she just stared straight at the girl, her mouth open. Harry walked over and grabbed her arm. "Come on, let's go to the Great Hall. I'm famished." Hermione scowled. Since when had Harry used the word "famished'? Apparently ever since he met this girl. She told herself.