Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. J.K Rowling does.
"No homework today." Mcgonagal announced to her Transfiguration Class. The students didn't really seem to care, or take notice. Harry was especially abashed. His Quidditch team's chaser had been murdered. Not only was Oliver a great player, but also one of Harry's good friends.
He had his head laid on his desk, his hair spilling over his paper. It was like dark blood coming from his face. Hermione watched him sadly. How could she ever bring up her feelings for him at times like this? He would probably just stare at her like she was mad. She was mostly scared that he didn't feel the same way about her. But how could she even tell? All he did was mope and frown. It was always the same.
Harry suddenly looked up. He had a big red mark across his cheek where his head had been on his arm. Hermione gave a silent giggle. He looked so cute! He licked his lips, and yawned a bit.
"Rise and shine, sleepy head." Hermione teased. Harry looked over at her. Hermione's breath caught as they locked eyes. He smiled.
"How long have I been out of it?" Hermione laughed.
"The whole period so far." Harry pouted.
"Yeah, I am so tired. I don't really sleep at night anymore." He sat up straight, and rubbed his eyes, yawning again.
"Me neither." Hermione confessed. "Mostly because, I cry too much to get some rest." Harry stared at her, his eyes looked a bit out of focus.
"I do too." Hermione guffawed.
"You cry at night?"
"Yeah. All the time. Doesn't everyone?"
"I guess so. I never pictured you..though.."
"Why?"
Hermione smiled at him. "Because I always see you as so strong, like you can handle anything." Harry blinked at her slowly.
"Herms, this all affects me just like everyone else." Hermione sighed. Harry was so wonderful. She laughed and pulled out her pocket mirror from her bag. She handed it to him, and Harry broke out in a fit of chuckles at the big crease on his cheek. Hermione giggled with him, and the rest of the class turned and gave them strange looks.
*
Ron stared sadly at Harry, through big round, blue eyes. Harry stared back, with his soft, round, green eyes. They just sat there for a minute before Harry cut off the silence.
"Ron, what did you want to ask me?" Ron frowned.
"It's about Hermione."
"Okay? Well tell me." But Ron was having a hard time finding the right words. He wasn't sure if he should be spilling her secret without her knowing.
"She, uh. Well, she." He scratched his head. This would be harder than he thought. Harry gaped at him, raising his dark eyebrows. They were risen so high that they brushed the tip of Harry's thick messy bangs. Ron gulped and took a deep breath.
"Hermione likes"-
"Hey guys!" Said a cheerful voice. Ron and Harry turned to face one of their best friends, and who happened to be the topic of conversation.
"Hey Hermione." Harry said, making room for her on the bench. She sat down between the two boys, smiling happily at each of them.
Ron licked his lips and glanced at Harry, who mouthed the words "what?" But Ron shrugged and turned back to Hermione.
"What are you doing here?" Ron asked her, poking her in the arm. Hermione shrugged and crossed her legs. Soon, a soft breeze drifted through the air, and ruffled Ron and Harry's hair. Hermione laughed as some curls of her's smacked Ron in the face. Ron pushed her hair out of his way.
"Um, I just wanted to find you guys. We all need to talk." Ron's spirit lifted. Was she finally going to talk to Harry? He hoped so, cause he didn't want to have to be the one who let Harry know how Hermione felt.
"Okay, shoot." Harry said, getting closer to her on the bench. Ron stayed where he was, watching the scene unfold in front of his eyes.
"Well, I needed to talk to you about.." At this point, Ron elbowed her in the side, and cocked his head towards Harry. Hermione ignored Ron and continued. "I need to talk to you two about the ball coming up."
Harry and Ron exchanged glances. Both boys gulped.
"What about it?" Ron asked, glancing at Harry. Hermione smiled and took both their hands in hers. One hand in each.
"Well, it's coming up pretty soon. I was wondering who you two were going to take." Ron sat back, amazed. Hermione seemed to be dealing with the situation beautifully.
"Uh, well, me and Natalie aren't going together." Harry said quietly, his face suddenly relaxed, and his eyes drooped. Hermione nodded. She looked over at Ron, who mouthed the words "Now's your chance." Hermione licked her lips.
The truth was, she would have loved to go with Harry. But there was one problem: She liked Ron too. And she wasn't about to come out and say it. She looked from one boy to the other, and sighed heavily.
"I'm not going with anyone." Ron said to break the silence. Harry looked at him strangely.
"You aren't? But, I thought you were going with Pansy." That made Hermione's stomach lurch. What? He was?
"Harry, Pansy won't talk to anyone now, after her friend's death. She isn't going with anybody. Do you think she really would? You know, go and have fun, while her friend sits and rots in her grave?" Ron quickly covered his mouth. He cringed. Hermione gasped.
"Ron! That was an awful thing to say."
"I know." Ron sighed, taking his hand away from his mouth. "You know what? She was going to go with Fred."
Hermione blinked back tears that she knew were trying to escape, like prisoners that had been locked up for a while, but were now trying to get away. She sighed and took a hold of Ron's arm, letting go of his hand. She was still holding Harry's, however.
"Ron, that's so horrible." She sighed. Ron squeezed her hand tight.
"I miss her, and I hate seeing Fred in so much pain." He whispered, closing his eyes tightly. Hermione knew the pain that he was feeling inside, as she had felt the exact same thing the other night, laying crumpled and crying on Bridgett's bed. The perfume smell was gone now.
She couldn't hold the tears back anymore, and she let them slide down her cheeks. Ron pulled her up closer, and she laid her head on his shoulder. Harry, realizing that he was missing something special, wrapped his arms around both of them, and all three friends cried alone under the giant willow tree.
*
"No homework today." Mcgonagal announced to her Transfiguration Class. The students didn't really seem to care, or take notice. Harry was especially abashed. His Quidditch team's chaser had been murdered. Not only was Oliver a great player, but also one of Harry's good friends.
He had his head laid on his desk, his hair spilling over his paper. It was like dark blood coming from his face. Hermione watched him sadly. How could she ever bring up her feelings for him at times like this? He would probably just stare at her like she was mad. She was mostly scared that he didn't feel the same way about her. But how could she even tell? All he did was mope and frown. It was always the same.
Harry suddenly looked up. He had a big red mark across his cheek where his head had been on his arm. Hermione gave a silent giggle. He looked so cute! He licked his lips, and yawned a bit.
"Rise and shine, sleepy head." Hermione teased. Harry looked over at her. Hermione's breath caught as they locked eyes. He smiled.
"How long have I been out of it?" Hermione laughed.
"The whole period so far." Harry pouted.
"Yeah, I am so tired. I don't really sleep at night anymore." He sat up straight, and rubbed his eyes, yawning again.
"Me neither." Hermione confessed. "Mostly because, I cry too much to get some rest." Harry stared at her, his eyes looked a bit out of focus.
"I do too." Hermione guffawed.
"You cry at night?"
"Yeah. All the time. Doesn't everyone?"
"I guess so. I never pictured you..though.."
"Why?"
Hermione smiled at him. "Because I always see you as so strong, like you can handle anything." Harry blinked at her slowly.
"Herms, this all affects me just like everyone else." Hermione sighed. Harry was so wonderful. She laughed and pulled out her pocket mirror from her bag. She handed it to him, and Harry broke out in a fit of chuckles at the big crease on his cheek. Hermione giggled with him, and the rest of the class turned and gave them strange looks.
*
Ron stared sadly at Harry, through big round, blue eyes. Harry stared back, with his soft, round, green eyes. They just sat there for a minute before Harry cut off the silence.
"Ron, what did you want to ask me?" Ron frowned.
"It's about Hermione."
"Okay? Well tell me." But Ron was having a hard time finding the right words. He wasn't sure if he should be spilling her secret without her knowing.
"She, uh. Well, she." He scratched his head. This would be harder than he thought. Harry gaped at him, raising his dark eyebrows. They were risen so high that they brushed the tip of Harry's thick messy bangs. Ron gulped and took a deep breath.
"Hermione likes"-
"Hey guys!" Said a cheerful voice. Ron and Harry turned to face one of their best friends, and who happened to be the topic of conversation.
"Hey Hermione." Harry said, making room for her on the bench. She sat down between the two boys, smiling happily at each of them.
Ron licked his lips and glanced at Harry, who mouthed the words "what?" But Ron shrugged and turned back to Hermione.
"What are you doing here?" Ron asked her, poking her in the arm. Hermione shrugged and crossed her legs. Soon, a soft breeze drifted through the air, and ruffled Ron and Harry's hair. Hermione laughed as some curls of her's smacked Ron in the face. Ron pushed her hair out of his way.
"Um, I just wanted to find you guys. We all need to talk." Ron's spirit lifted. Was she finally going to talk to Harry? He hoped so, cause he didn't want to have to be the one who let Harry know how Hermione felt.
"Okay, shoot." Harry said, getting closer to her on the bench. Ron stayed where he was, watching the scene unfold in front of his eyes.
"Well, I needed to talk to you about.." At this point, Ron elbowed her in the side, and cocked his head towards Harry. Hermione ignored Ron and continued. "I need to talk to you two about the ball coming up."
Harry and Ron exchanged glances. Both boys gulped.
"What about it?" Ron asked, glancing at Harry. Hermione smiled and took both their hands in hers. One hand in each.
"Well, it's coming up pretty soon. I was wondering who you two were going to take." Ron sat back, amazed. Hermione seemed to be dealing with the situation beautifully.
"Uh, well, me and Natalie aren't going together." Harry said quietly, his face suddenly relaxed, and his eyes drooped. Hermione nodded. She looked over at Ron, who mouthed the words "Now's your chance." Hermione licked her lips.
The truth was, she would have loved to go with Harry. But there was one problem: She liked Ron too. And she wasn't about to come out and say it. She looked from one boy to the other, and sighed heavily.
"I'm not going with anyone." Ron said to break the silence. Harry looked at him strangely.
"You aren't? But, I thought you were going with Pansy." That made Hermione's stomach lurch. What? He was?
"Harry, Pansy won't talk to anyone now, after her friend's death. She isn't going with anybody. Do you think she really would? You know, go and have fun, while her friend sits and rots in her grave?" Ron quickly covered his mouth. He cringed. Hermione gasped.
"Ron! That was an awful thing to say."
"I know." Ron sighed, taking his hand away from his mouth. "You know what? She was going to go with Fred."
Hermione blinked back tears that she knew were trying to escape, like prisoners that had been locked up for a while, but were now trying to get away. She sighed and took a hold of Ron's arm, letting go of his hand. She was still holding Harry's, however.
"Ron, that's so horrible." She sighed. Ron squeezed her hand tight.
"I miss her, and I hate seeing Fred in so much pain." He whispered, closing his eyes tightly. Hermione knew the pain that he was feeling inside, as she had felt the exact same thing the other night, laying crumpled and crying on Bridgett's bed. The perfume smell was gone now.
She couldn't hold the tears back anymore, and she let them slide down her cheeks. Ron pulled her up closer, and she laid her head on his shoulder. Harry, realizing that he was missing something special, wrapped his arms around both of them, and all three friends cried alone under the giant willow tree.
*