[a.n: Werd. Palabra. Mot. Thanks for reviewing. And thanks to chelles for
inspiration to start writing again. This chap is a little weird, but I
wrote it late at night. At least, I started it late at night.]
I own nothing!
Harry had fallen asleep after his whirlwind of thoughts. It was a disconnected, disturbed, light sleep, but it was sleep nonetheless, and it helped clear his mind. He went down to the common room, en route to the Great Hall for a good hearty breakfast, when Ron's voice halted him.
"It's nearly noon, you know."
"Is it really?" Harry glanced at the time; how could he have been tossing and turning for that long?
"Mmhmm. You won't find anything worthwhile if you go down to the Great Hall now. Might as well wait until lunchtime." Ron's voice was different, it wasn't terribly hearty, as if he was holding back, but it most certainly wasn't relaxed.
"True. Would you rather eat omelet leftovers or be hungry? Quite a decision."
"Mm," murmured Ron, bending over something which didn't look like homework, Harry saw as he sat down beside him.
"Writing a letter?"
Ron looked at him, almost sharply, and rolled up the parchment, hastily stuffing it into his overflowing bag. "No," he mumbled.
"Oh. Have you done your Transfiguration essay, then?"
"No, I'm going to the library to do that now.."
"I hate the library. They don't let us utter a word in there, do they?"
He waited steadily, maybe, for Ron to invite him to go with him to the library, or make a witty remark about the silence of the library, but he didn't. Ron just walked off, looking at his feet. Harry, feeling a sense of reckless abandonment, or guilt, or pure suspicion, decided to see if Ron really was going to the library. If he really was, he would've said something witty.
Running up the dormitory stairs, grabbing the cloak and getting out the portrait hole without getting too far away from Ron took quite some effort. So did trying to keep up with Ron when he was already out of breath. Luckily, Ron's hair made him easy to keep track of.
Harry didn't think. Why was he following his best friend? Did he not trust him? Did he want to get away from Hermione? He didn't know. He realized that it was probably paranoia, that he probably was heading off to the library after all. He turned around, ready to go back and regain his sane self, when he saw Ron completely avoid the entrance to the library and walk straight on. Maybe Harry did have a sense of intuition after all.
It was then that Hermione had decided to pop up in front of him, out of nowhere, as if she had been using an invisibility cloak, looked him straight in the eye, and declared, "We need to talk. Desperately."
"Hermione-"
"About yesterday."
"Of course about yesterday. Couldn't have been homework, could it?" "What happened yesterday was-"
"Hermione, why now, why now-" Ron's head was a tiny orange dot, bobbing far in the distance. Even if Hermione hadn't arrived so ceremoniously, Harry would've lost him.
"Fine, if you'd rather talk about it at lunch, where someone's bound to overhear us-"
"Why not after lunch? I am starving."
"Why've you got your cloak with you?" Random change of subject. Something Hermione didn't do often.
"Uh..what?"
"Your cloak. Why do you have it with you?" She eyes him suspiciously, and used her extensive knowledge of the way Harry worked to come up with: "What did you want to do illegally this time?"
"Nothing, grabbed the wrong thing by accident. In fact, I wouldn't have noticed until I got to the Great Hall that I had taken it with me. Shall we go put at back? We can talk during the walk back."
"Alright."
The first couple of yards were walked in silence, but not awkward, but rather thoughtful. It was Harry who broke it.
"So what exactly did you want to say about last night?"
"Well-"
"Well-water. That's a deep subject."
Hermione looked at Harry with narrowed eyes. "Sorry. Ron's rubbing off on me."
"Anyway. Look. I couldn't tell. What happened last night-did you initiate it? Or was it a spur of the moment, Pepper Imp-in-mouth, late night lack of sleep thing?"
It was time for Harry to seriously consider his feelings for Hermione, which he had tried in vain to do earlier this morning. Did he like her? He looked her up and down, hopefully subtly, and didn't exactly know what to say. They had been best friends for so long that there was no doubt that dating would only mean kissing her. But still, over time, it would become more emotionally, and he wasn't sure of that.
"I'm not sure, Hermione," he said earnestly.
"What do you mean, not sure?" She looked at him quizzically.
Harry said exactly what he thought, for he felt it was a good reason. "Well, we've been friends for so long; wouldn't it be weird if we were to go out or something?"
"Well, that is true, but that might not happen," she said logically.
"I highly doubt it won't. And if we do break up or something, that would ruin a 5 year friendship that's been through a lot. I'm not really sure I'm ready to risk that."
"So you'll think about it?"
"Won't you?"
"I have thought about it a lot already." They stepped through the portrait hole. "Wait here," he muttered, leaving the invisibility cloak at the foot of his bed. He then came out, and they stepped out of the Fat Lady again.
"When?"
"Last night! I barely got any sleep. The look on Ron's face..hard to forget."
This brought up the most controversial subject.
"Hermione, if we were to date, what would happen to Ron?"
"I'm not sure. Surely he'd feel very used, and you know what would happen, practically?"
"What?"
"We'd get wrapped up in each other, and all that would matter would be each other. Since we are already good friends, our entire life would become each other. And he'd feel used because they only time we'd think of him was when it wasn't possible to think of or be with the other," explained Hermione, very bluntly.
"That's only one option, right?"
"Well, yes. But can you think of any others?" They were now near the Great Hall, where an crowd was unusually gathered at the Ravenclaw table. Among the crowd, they saw four bright red heads, knowing that Fred, George, Ginny and Ron were all over at the table. What could be so important to attract all the Weasleys?
Harry abandoned Hermione's question as he looked toward the table.
"A Never-Ending Chocolate box! I've always wanted one. Never got the Galleons though, they're so expensive!"
"Pepper Imps, Brooke, wow," remarked someone else, admiring the basket.
The girl who was apparently Brooke looked at the basket. It was ornate, filled to the brim, and oddly familiar..
The crowd, including the Weasleys, started to thin as food appeared, , but the honey-eyed, raven-haired girl still stared quizzically at the basket.
"Brooke! That's her name!"
At the sound of her name, the girl looked up and flashed a stunning smile once again. "Harry?"
"Hey," said Harry, walking over to the table. "That's the girl," he whispered to Hermione, who followed him, looking curiously at the basket.
"Want a chocolate? I'm told I'll never run out now." She offered him a glazed caramel truffle, his favorite. He sat down at the Ravenclaw tale opposite her, to the chagrin of a few, but not before introducing Hermione.
"Brooke Manchester, Hermione Granger. Hermione, Brooke," indicating each at the sound of their names.
Brooke smiled at Hermione and motioned her to sit down, offering her a white chocolate. Hermione accepted, and a look of pleasure came on her face when she bit into the chocolate. "So who sent you this?" said Harry.
"I don't know. No card. But it must be somebody rich; these things are don't come cheap. I wish I knew who it was I could thank them."
"You know, I got the same package yesterday," said Hermione, looking at the basket. "In fact, it was the same exact one."
"Really? That's odd," she trailed off, looking at something on the other side of the hall. "I have no idea how I'm going to finish all this chocolate. I'd like to, but I highly doubt I can," Harry kicked himself for not thinking of this sooner. He motioned for Brooke to get up, and with Hermione trailing behind, they walked over the Gryffindor table.
"Ron?"
Ron turned around to face Harry.
"I'd like you to meet Brooke Manchester." Ron looked her up and down. He then replied:
"Weren't you the girl at the Quidditch pitch this morning, watching the Hufflepuffs practice?"
"Yeah..you were there too?"
"I study better outside. Sit, will you?" Brooke sat, and they began to talk. Of what, Harry did not hear, for Hermione dragged him quickly outside.
"Hermione, I haven't even eaten-"
"Just what do you think you're doing?"
"I'm introducing them; I thought they'd get along. Why are you so agitated about it?"
"Are you trying to set up Ron so you won't feel guilty about us? If there is going to be an us?"
"No, Hermione, really, all I thought was that they'd get off well. There's nothing wrong with that, is there?"
"Yes! You're not doing it to be nice; you're doing it out of guilt! That's horrible, Harry! You're so shallow. You think that this will all be alright if Ron has girlfriend, don't you?"
"Wait! Just before you were saying how-"
"I wasn't saying it would be better if he had a girlfriend!"
"But it would! Why don't you want Ron to be happy?"
"He won't even like her, Harry, you're just trying to confuse him!" Their voices were rising, out of frustration; Harry had no idea why Hermione was so frazzled, Hermione had no idea why Harry was so stupid.
"Why won't he like her? They're a perfect match!" yelled Harry, believing it.
"He WON'T like her!" Her eyes blazed.
"Why not?!?" His voice was alarmingly loud.
"Because he likes me!"
I own nothing!
Harry had fallen asleep after his whirlwind of thoughts. It was a disconnected, disturbed, light sleep, but it was sleep nonetheless, and it helped clear his mind. He went down to the common room, en route to the Great Hall for a good hearty breakfast, when Ron's voice halted him.
"It's nearly noon, you know."
"Is it really?" Harry glanced at the time; how could he have been tossing and turning for that long?
"Mmhmm. You won't find anything worthwhile if you go down to the Great Hall now. Might as well wait until lunchtime." Ron's voice was different, it wasn't terribly hearty, as if he was holding back, but it most certainly wasn't relaxed.
"True. Would you rather eat omelet leftovers or be hungry? Quite a decision."
"Mm," murmured Ron, bending over something which didn't look like homework, Harry saw as he sat down beside him.
"Writing a letter?"
Ron looked at him, almost sharply, and rolled up the parchment, hastily stuffing it into his overflowing bag. "No," he mumbled.
"Oh. Have you done your Transfiguration essay, then?"
"No, I'm going to the library to do that now.."
"I hate the library. They don't let us utter a word in there, do they?"
He waited steadily, maybe, for Ron to invite him to go with him to the library, or make a witty remark about the silence of the library, but he didn't. Ron just walked off, looking at his feet. Harry, feeling a sense of reckless abandonment, or guilt, or pure suspicion, decided to see if Ron really was going to the library. If he really was, he would've said something witty.
Running up the dormitory stairs, grabbing the cloak and getting out the portrait hole without getting too far away from Ron took quite some effort. So did trying to keep up with Ron when he was already out of breath. Luckily, Ron's hair made him easy to keep track of.
Harry didn't think. Why was he following his best friend? Did he not trust him? Did he want to get away from Hermione? He didn't know. He realized that it was probably paranoia, that he probably was heading off to the library after all. He turned around, ready to go back and regain his sane self, when he saw Ron completely avoid the entrance to the library and walk straight on. Maybe Harry did have a sense of intuition after all.
It was then that Hermione had decided to pop up in front of him, out of nowhere, as if she had been using an invisibility cloak, looked him straight in the eye, and declared, "We need to talk. Desperately."
"Hermione-"
"About yesterday."
"Of course about yesterday. Couldn't have been homework, could it?" "What happened yesterday was-"
"Hermione, why now, why now-" Ron's head was a tiny orange dot, bobbing far in the distance. Even if Hermione hadn't arrived so ceremoniously, Harry would've lost him.
"Fine, if you'd rather talk about it at lunch, where someone's bound to overhear us-"
"Why not after lunch? I am starving."
"Why've you got your cloak with you?" Random change of subject. Something Hermione didn't do often.
"Uh..what?"
"Your cloak. Why do you have it with you?" She eyes him suspiciously, and used her extensive knowledge of the way Harry worked to come up with: "What did you want to do illegally this time?"
"Nothing, grabbed the wrong thing by accident. In fact, I wouldn't have noticed until I got to the Great Hall that I had taken it with me. Shall we go put at back? We can talk during the walk back."
"Alright."
The first couple of yards were walked in silence, but not awkward, but rather thoughtful. It was Harry who broke it.
"So what exactly did you want to say about last night?"
"Well-"
"Well-water. That's a deep subject."
Hermione looked at Harry with narrowed eyes. "Sorry. Ron's rubbing off on me."
"Anyway. Look. I couldn't tell. What happened last night-did you initiate it? Or was it a spur of the moment, Pepper Imp-in-mouth, late night lack of sleep thing?"
It was time for Harry to seriously consider his feelings for Hermione, which he had tried in vain to do earlier this morning. Did he like her? He looked her up and down, hopefully subtly, and didn't exactly know what to say. They had been best friends for so long that there was no doubt that dating would only mean kissing her. But still, over time, it would become more emotionally, and he wasn't sure of that.
"I'm not sure, Hermione," he said earnestly.
"What do you mean, not sure?" She looked at him quizzically.
Harry said exactly what he thought, for he felt it was a good reason. "Well, we've been friends for so long; wouldn't it be weird if we were to go out or something?"
"Well, that is true, but that might not happen," she said logically.
"I highly doubt it won't. And if we do break up or something, that would ruin a 5 year friendship that's been through a lot. I'm not really sure I'm ready to risk that."
"So you'll think about it?"
"Won't you?"
"I have thought about it a lot already." They stepped through the portrait hole. "Wait here," he muttered, leaving the invisibility cloak at the foot of his bed. He then came out, and they stepped out of the Fat Lady again.
"When?"
"Last night! I barely got any sleep. The look on Ron's face..hard to forget."
This brought up the most controversial subject.
"Hermione, if we were to date, what would happen to Ron?"
"I'm not sure. Surely he'd feel very used, and you know what would happen, practically?"
"What?"
"We'd get wrapped up in each other, and all that would matter would be each other. Since we are already good friends, our entire life would become each other. And he'd feel used because they only time we'd think of him was when it wasn't possible to think of or be with the other," explained Hermione, very bluntly.
"That's only one option, right?"
"Well, yes. But can you think of any others?" They were now near the Great Hall, where an crowd was unusually gathered at the Ravenclaw table. Among the crowd, they saw four bright red heads, knowing that Fred, George, Ginny and Ron were all over at the table. What could be so important to attract all the Weasleys?
Harry abandoned Hermione's question as he looked toward the table.
"A Never-Ending Chocolate box! I've always wanted one. Never got the Galleons though, they're so expensive!"
"Pepper Imps, Brooke, wow," remarked someone else, admiring the basket.
The girl who was apparently Brooke looked at the basket. It was ornate, filled to the brim, and oddly familiar..
The crowd, including the Weasleys, started to thin as food appeared, , but the honey-eyed, raven-haired girl still stared quizzically at the basket.
"Brooke! That's her name!"
At the sound of her name, the girl looked up and flashed a stunning smile once again. "Harry?"
"Hey," said Harry, walking over to the table. "That's the girl," he whispered to Hermione, who followed him, looking curiously at the basket.
"Want a chocolate? I'm told I'll never run out now." She offered him a glazed caramel truffle, his favorite. He sat down at the Ravenclaw tale opposite her, to the chagrin of a few, but not before introducing Hermione.
"Brooke Manchester, Hermione Granger. Hermione, Brooke," indicating each at the sound of their names.
Brooke smiled at Hermione and motioned her to sit down, offering her a white chocolate. Hermione accepted, and a look of pleasure came on her face when she bit into the chocolate. "So who sent you this?" said Harry.
"I don't know. No card. But it must be somebody rich; these things are don't come cheap. I wish I knew who it was I could thank them."
"You know, I got the same package yesterday," said Hermione, looking at the basket. "In fact, it was the same exact one."
"Really? That's odd," she trailed off, looking at something on the other side of the hall. "I have no idea how I'm going to finish all this chocolate. I'd like to, but I highly doubt I can," Harry kicked himself for not thinking of this sooner. He motioned for Brooke to get up, and with Hermione trailing behind, they walked over the Gryffindor table.
"Ron?"
Ron turned around to face Harry.
"I'd like you to meet Brooke Manchester." Ron looked her up and down. He then replied:
"Weren't you the girl at the Quidditch pitch this morning, watching the Hufflepuffs practice?"
"Yeah..you were there too?"
"I study better outside. Sit, will you?" Brooke sat, and they began to talk. Of what, Harry did not hear, for Hermione dragged him quickly outside.
"Hermione, I haven't even eaten-"
"Just what do you think you're doing?"
"I'm introducing them; I thought they'd get along. Why are you so agitated about it?"
"Are you trying to set up Ron so you won't feel guilty about us? If there is going to be an us?"
"No, Hermione, really, all I thought was that they'd get off well. There's nothing wrong with that, is there?"
"Yes! You're not doing it to be nice; you're doing it out of guilt! That's horrible, Harry! You're so shallow. You think that this will all be alright if Ron has girlfriend, don't you?"
"Wait! Just before you were saying how-"
"I wasn't saying it would be better if he had a girlfriend!"
"But it would! Why don't you want Ron to be happy?"
"He won't even like her, Harry, you're just trying to confuse him!" Their voices were rising, out of frustration; Harry had no idea why Hermione was so frazzled, Hermione had no idea why Harry was so stupid.
"Why won't he like her? They're a perfect match!" yelled Harry, believing it.
"He WON'T like her!" Her eyes blazed.
"Why not?!?" His voice was alarmingly loud.
"Because he likes me!"