A/N: I have this 'THING' with my personality that just possesses me to
write...a lot. I like putting stuff here cause people review it and
everything. No disclaimers, as you all already know who owns what and so
forth. I don't think we need to clarify that, do we? Ha ha ha. Well, onward
then!
To Get Her Attention
Chapter One
'Dear Harry, I know you do this every summer anyway, but you've got to come to Diagon Alley! Hermione's coming! Besides, you and I both know you'd rather be eaten by a hippogriff than stay another day at that Muggle house. Come on! You know you want to! Hermione's coming tomorrow! You can't leave me alone with her...it would be...cruel.... Please come? Ron'
Harry's brow furrowed in thought. Why on earth would Ron be that excited about Diagon Alley? And what on earth was he so worried about? He had been alone with Hermione plenty of times. Harry was indeed confused. Ron had always been...well, err...slightly jumpy concerning certain things, but since when had Hermione become one of them? He thought back a moment to his sixth year. Ron had been kind of quiet, once he thought about it. But then, that was strange too...Ron being quiet. And Hermione hadn't seemed like anything at all was wrong with her. He had received plenty of letters, but...no, nothing, at least not like how Ron's recent letters had been. The most exciting thing Harry knew happened this summer for Hermione was her turning seventeen. He smiled as he remembered that letter. She wasn't excited for normal reasons, and it was very amusing to read.
'Harry, Thanks so much for the book about fire charms. It was really interesting! I've already read it from cover to cover! I can't believe I'm seventeen, Harry! That makes me of age, right? Dumbledore has to let me in on those Order meetings now! I'm so excited! I wonder what's been going on? The Daily Prophet sure hasn't said anything...but of course they've got Fudge hushing it all up...Oh, I can't wait to find out what's been happening! I can't wait! I'll finally get to help...do something that will make a difference, you know? I mean, unless you count that horrid incident in our fifth year, what else have we done? Sorry Harry, didn't mean it like that... I can just see your face. Well, will I see you in Diagon Alley this weekend? Ron's acting rather odd lately. Nearly cried when I told him I'd be meeting him there. Have you any ideas as to what's wrong with him? Love from, Hermione'
So...Hermione had mentioned Ron in at least one of her letters. Harry had forgotten it. It was overshadowed by the fact that Hermione seemed to be unnaturally excited about the Order of the Phoenix. Harry was excited, too...he couldn't deny that. When he got his wand on that awful LeStrange woman...he felt the anger boil up inside him again and decided to think about something else. Anything. He looked at his trunk, his eyebrow raising, and made a quick decision.
"Locomotor trunk!" he whispered, glancing around his room as if Ministry of Magic officials were hiding in his wardrobe. His trunk had raised itself several inches off the ground. He had made it down the stairs...
"Boy, where do you think you're going?" His uncle Vernon snarled from the kitchen "AND WHAT IN RUDDY HELL IS THAT TRUNK DOING?"
"I'm leaving, Uncle Vernon." Harry replied simply, trying to squeeze past his enormous cousin Dudley who was blocking the doorway with his abnormally large body.
"Where do you think you're going? Get back here!" his uncle screamed. Harry had squeezed past Dudley, who had ran when he saw Harry's trunk floating down the stairs.
"Like you care." Harry huffed. "I have some things to do before school starts this year." He made up an excuse and stuck his wand hand out. In his third year at Hogwarts, he had accidentally summoned the Knight Bus by doing this. His uncle, horrified at seeing Harry's wand out twice within five minutes, retreated into his house to try and act as normal as possible.
The Knight Bus screeched to a halt in front of Number Four. Harry smiled at Ernie, the driver, but there was someone new, a woman, in place of the boy he had met last time.
"Hello," she smiled. "Where you headed?"
"Diagon Alley," he whispered.
The woman gasped. "You're--"
"Yes, yes. I know." He growled.
"Why such a bad mood?" she was still calm despite his being short with her.
Harry thought a moment, and frowned. He didn't really have a reason. He'd been on a short fuse for a while now. Ever since the end of his fifth year at Hogwarts. He shuddered, "Sorry. Just tired, I guess." He shrugged.
Harry stepped on to the bus and looked for a bed. He was about to try and lay down when he heard a very familiar voice from a bed two rows down from his own. "Harry!" The perky Hermione Granger sat up (although how she managed to do so was beyond Harry). She was reading the latest copy of the Daily Prophet, whose top story of the day was about a colony of flesh eating slugs destroying a crop of mandrakes. Mandrakes were much less important than Voldemort. "Harry, are you listening?" He had forgotten that Hermione was there, and that she was indeed talking to him.
"Oy, sorry..." he sighed. "Wait...why are you on the Knight Bus?" he asked her.
"Wanted to try it for once. I've read about it, you see..." she explained. "And you? What's your excuse?"
"Honestly, do I really need one? I live with the Dursleys. That should be excuse enough. Besides, I just had to get out of the house for some reason. I don't know..." He told her, and she nodded.
"By the way, Harry. Happy Birthday." Hermione smiled. Harry couldn't help but blush. Most normal people wouldn't forget their birthday, but he wasn't like most normal people. He forgot his on a regular basis.
He smiled at her. "Thanks, Hermione."
"You headed to Diagon Alley as well?" she asked him in her best conversational tone. "I've told Ron I would meet him there...but there's supposed to be an Order meeting this weekend at the Three Broomsticks as well..." when she said this, she lowered her voice. Harry could barely hear her speak. "Are you going to go?"
Harry frowned. "I might." Memories from his fifth year were floating around his head again. "I'm not sure, though."
"Well, I think you should. Ron is going. Charlie, Bill, Fred, and George will be there. It will be neat to get to talk to them again. Have you been to Fred and George's joke shop? It truly is marvelous. They are quite brilliant..." Hermione had changed the subject, and Harry was glad. Thinking about Voldemort and the Order brought up memories that he hadn't dealt with yet.
"Yeah, we should go sometime. Where is it?" he asked her.
She smiled. "They opened it up in Diagon Alley. It's right across the street from Oliveander's Wand Shop...you know...where the Menagerie used to be?"
"Yeah."
The woman Harry had met when he got on the Knight Bus cleared her throat, trying as politely as possible to interrupt their conversation. "Your stop is next, you two. Best be ready to get off..." she whispered.
Hermione and Harry got off the Knight Bus together no less than thirty seconds later. The bus had dropped them right outside the Three Broomsticks. Harry took hold of his trunk and followed Hermione (who now had a slight hop in her step) into the building. The group of people in the back of the room was unmistakable. The flaming red hair gave them away. The entire Weasley family was there...except Percy. Dumbledore was there as well, standing next to Remus Lupin, and behind Nymphadora Tonks. Also seemingly awaiting Harry and Hermione's arrival were Severus Snape and Hagrid.
"Why is everyone already here?" Harry wondered aloud. "Last time I checked, Order meetings weren't held in big open spaces where everyone and their grandma could hear," he smirked.
"Oh, Harry...you and your temper. Calm down. It's probably nothing important if they're all sitting there like that." Hermione whispered to him.
"This isn't the actual Order meeting, Harry," Dumbledore had a way of coming from out of nowhere. He smiled at Harry's surprised expression. "It's this weekend. These people are just gathered for a glass of butter beer and some dinner. Care to join us?"
Harry was almost taken aback. He again surveyed the large group. The idea of the Weasley family conversing happily with Snape at the same table was nearly unimaginable. Harry couldn't help but laugh to himself as he realized that Lupin would be there, too. One of his father's best friends was sitting at the same table as a man his father had practically tortured through his school years. Finally, Harry could only shrug. If these people could manage to sit at the table without ridiculing each other, he would be perfectly all right.
Hermione sat herself next to Ron. Ron, who was usually very pale, turned bright red for some odd reason. His younger sister Ginny nearly snorted into her cup of butter beer. Harry glanced from Ron to Hermione, and back again. Something was going on. Somehow, he had missed something, and now, he was the only one confused. Hermione seemed oblivious to everyone. Ron, still pink in his ears, had finally started eating, and across from Harry, Snape was having a very interesting conversation with Lupin about Quiddich, of all things. Harry listened in. Occasionally, he would glance curiously around the table, but nothing else of interest seemed to happen the rest of the way through the dinner.
"Well, I'll be off, then." Snape hissed. "I have business to attend to, as you all well know."
Mrs. Weasley waved. "You be careful." She whispered to him.
Harry blinked. "Err..." he stood, staring at Snape, and wide-eyed at Mrs. Weasley. "Never mind..."
"You will be coming to the meeting this weekend, won't you Harry?" it was Dumbledore again. "It's being held in London, at the headquarters..."
Harry did a double take. "Where? You mean..." But Dumbledore had raised a finger to silence him, and he nodded. "But I thought...Sirius died, Dumbledore..." Harry groaned.
"Yes, Harry, he did. There is something about that you and I need to discuss, anyway, so I do hope you attend." Dumbledore answered.
"I will. Ron and Hermione are both going as well." He sighed. "I guess I'll see you again this Saturday?" But Dumbledore had turned, and was already out the door.
That night, Harry shared his room at the Three Broomsticks with Ron. The two stayed up quite late talking, and Ron fell asleep sitting up. Harry had to laugh at him. He was having yet another nightmare about spiders (and frankly, after their second year, Harry couldn't blame him). Harry got up, paced the room, and then sat back down. It was then that the red book caught his eye.
Harry's natural curiosity took over. The book was sitting there on Ron's nightstand...but the idea of Ron reading something without being forced to do so was a strange idea indeed. Harry couldn't help himself. He tiptoed over to Ron's nightstand, picked up the book, and flipped it open.
It was nothing but a journal. But then again, since when had Ron kept a journal? Harry flipped through the pages, and stopped at the last page, and what he thought to be the most recent entry. His eyes grew wide as he read what Ron had written.
'I don't think she even knows I exist...well...in that way, anyway. It's absolute torture, you know? I think about her all the time now, and I don't know why. Her and I are nothing alike...and I don't know, but I've always thought that her and Harry would end up an item. Well, obviously that hasn't happened yet, but even still, if Harry knew...he'd probably think I was some giant git or something. Or maybe not? I don't feel like I know anything anymore. She's so confusing! I don't know what to say around her anymore, or what to do, so now I just sit there like I'm thick or something. At least she probably thinks so by now. It used to be so easy to talk to her, but now...it's like I'm scared to really tell her anything. Like I'm scared she's going to run away from me or something.... I wonder what Harry would think of that...what would he think...what would everyone think...if they knew how much I cared about Hermione?'
Harry put on his best gag face and placed the book back where he found it. He laughed to himself. "Boy Ron, you're whipped already and you haven't even had a first date..." he whispered to his sleeping friend. Now that he thought about it, everything Ron had written was true. He had been acting like a toad lately, and now Harry knew why. But then he wondered: did Hermione know? Did she suspect anything? He laid back down, glanced at Ron one last time, and smiled. "I'll help you out, Ron."
Harry was up by the crack of dawn, which was surprising considering how late he had gone to sleep. He ran across the street to the flower shop and bought a dozen lilies. The card, he had made out to Hermione. The sender? Ron. He rushed back across the street, bouquet in hand, and up the stairs of the Three Broomsticks.
"Alohamora," he whispered, unlocking Hermione's door. She was still sleeping, which was good, as he would have been dead had she been awake. He tiptoed across her bedroom, and set the flowers in a chair next to Hermione's bed where she was sure to see them when she woke up.
"What are you doing?" Ron demanded. He had caught Harry tiptoeing through the halls with his wand drawn, and it seemed a bit odd.
"Nothing. Thought I saw a rat," he shrugged. Luckily enough for him, Ron took the bait and followed him quietly down the stairs.
Harry and Ron had already dressed and eaten before Harry heard any commotion coming from Hermione's room. She was finally awake. He could hear her walking around. She hadn't noticed the flowers yet, or she would have....
"Ahh!" Hermione squealed. Ron ran up the stairs, followed closely by Harry. Harry somehow reached Hermione's door first, and creaked it open slowly.
"What's wrong, Hermione?" he asked her.
She was midway through reading the card that came with the flowers she was pointing to. "Ron! Thank you so much!" she smiled, as Ron came into the room completely dumbfounded. She wrapped him tightly in a hug. "You didn't have to buy me flowers...why did you buy me flowers?" she asked.
"Err...you're welcome?" Ron squeaked. From in front of him, where Hermione could not see, Harry gave Ron a thumbs up.
Hermione kicked the both of them out of the room several minutes later so that she could get dressed. She flopped on to her bed, and sighed deeply.
"He gave me flowers. Ron gave me flowers." The thought brought the hugest of grins to her face. "Maybe he does like me?" she whispered to herself. Then, suddenly, as if someone had just slapped her out of reality, "What am I going to wear? I can't go outside looking like this! And Ron looking so nice today..." she ranted in the privacy of her own room.
When she emerged from upstairs thirty or so minutes later, Harry smiled at Ron, and leaned in to whisper, "Looks pretty, doesn't she, Ron?" Ron nodded, and Harry smiled. "You don't have to thank me..." Harry made a decision that day. If Ron couldn't tell Hermione how he felt by himself, he was going to have to get some help...and Harry was definitely willing to help his two best friends.
A/N: How do you like the first chapter? Read and Review please. Thanks!
To Get Her Attention
Chapter One
'Dear Harry, I know you do this every summer anyway, but you've got to come to Diagon Alley! Hermione's coming! Besides, you and I both know you'd rather be eaten by a hippogriff than stay another day at that Muggle house. Come on! You know you want to! Hermione's coming tomorrow! You can't leave me alone with her...it would be...cruel.... Please come? Ron'
Harry's brow furrowed in thought. Why on earth would Ron be that excited about Diagon Alley? And what on earth was he so worried about? He had been alone with Hermione plenty of times. Harry was indeed confused. Ron had always been...well, err...slightly jumpy concerning certain things, but since when had Hermione become one of them? He thought back a moment to his sixth year. Ron had been kind of quiet, once he thought about it. But then, that was strange too...Ron being quiet. And Hermione hadn't seemed like anything at all was wrong with her. He had received plenty of letters, but...no, nothing, at least not like how Ron's recent letters had been. The most exciting thing Harry knew happened this summer for Hermione was her turning seventeen. He smiled as he remembered that letter. She wasn't excited for normal reasons, and it was very amusing to read.
'Harry, Thanks so much for the book about fire charms. It was really interesting! I've already read it from cover to cover! I can't believe I'm seventeen, Harry! That makes me of age, right? Dumbledore has to let me in on those Order meetings now! I'm so excited! I wonder what's been going on? The Daily Prophet sure hasn't said anything...but of course they've got Fudge hushing it all up...Oh, I can't wait to find out what's been happening! I can't wait! I'll finally get to help...do something that will make a difference, you know? I mean, unless you count that horrid incident in our fifth year, what else have we done? Sorry Harry, didn't mean it like that... I can just see your face. Well, will I see you in Diagon Alley this weekend? Ron's acting rather odd lately. Nearly cried when I told him I'd be meeting him there. Have you any ideas as to what's wrong with him? Love from, Hermione'
So...Hermione had mentioned Ron in at least one of her letters. Harry had forgotten it. It was overshadowed by the fact that Hermione seemed to be unnaturally excited about the Order of the Phoenix. Harry was excited, too...he couldn't deny that. When he got his wand on that awful LeStrange woman...he felt the anger boil up inside him again and decided to think about something else. Anything. He looked at his trunk, his eyebrow raising, and made a quick decision.
"Locomotor trunk!" he whispered, glancing around his room as if Ministry of Magic officials were hiding in his wardrobe. His trunk had raised itself several inches off the ground. He had made it down the stairs...
"Boy, where do you think you're going?" His uncle Vernon snarled from the kitchen "AND WHAT IN RUDDY HELL IS THAT TRUNK DOING?"
"I'm leaving, Uncle Vernon." Harry replied simply, trying to squeeze past his enormous cousin Dudley who was blocking the doorway with his abnormally large body.
"Where do you think you're going? Get back here!" his uncle screamed. Harry had squeezed past Dudley, who had ran when he saw Harry's trunk floating down the stairs.
"Like you care." Harry huffed. "I have some things to do before school starts this year." He made up an excuse and stuck his wand hand out. In his third year at Hogwarts, he had accidentally summoned the Knight Bus by doing this. His uncle, horrified at seeing Harry's wand out twice within five minutes, retreated into his house to try and act as normal as possible.
The Knight Bus screeched to a halt in front of Number Four. Harry smiled at Ernie, the driver, but there was someone new, a woman, in place of the boy he had met last time.
"Hello," she smiled. "Where you headed?"
"Diagon Alley," he whispered.
The woman gasped. "You're--"
"Yes, yes. I know." He growled.
"Why such a bad mood?" she was still calm despite his being short with her.
Harry thought a moment, and frowned. He didn't really have a reason. He'd been on a short fuse for a while now. Ever since the end of his fifth year at Hogwarts. He shuddered, "Sorry. Just tired, I guess." He shrugged.
Harry stepped on to the bus and looked for a bed. He was about to try and lay down when he heard a very familiar voice from a bed two rows down from his own. "Harry!" The perky Hermione Granger sat up (although how she managed to do so was beyond Harry). She was reading the latest copy of the Daily Prophet, whose top story of the day was about a colony of flesh eating slugs destroying a crop of mandrakes. Mandrakes were much less important than Voldemort. "Harry, are you listening?" He had forgotten that Hermione was there, and that she was indeed talking to him.
"Oy, sorry..." he sighed. "Wait...why are you on the Knight Bus?" he asked her.
"Wanted to try it for once. I've read about it, you see..." she explained. "And you? What's your excuse?"
"Honestly, do I really need one? I live with the Dursleys. That should be excuse enough. Besides, I just had to get out of the house for some reason. I don't know..." He told her, and she nodded.
"By the way, Harry. Happy Birthday." Hermione smiled. Harry couldn't help but blush. Most normal people wouldn't forget their birthday, but he wasn't like most normal people. He forgot his on a regular basis.
He smiled at her. "Thanks, Hermione."
"You headed to Diagon Alley as well?" she asked him in her best conversational tone. "I've told Ron I would meet him there...but there's supposed to be an Order meeting this weekend at the Three Broomsticks as well..." when she said this, she lowered her voice. Harry could barely hear her speak. "Are you going to go?"
Harry frowned. "I might." Memories from his fifth year were floating around his head again. "I'm not sure, though."
"Well, I think you should. Ron is going. Charlie, Bill, Fred, and George will be there. It will be neat to get to talk to them again. Have you been to Fred and George's joke shop? It truly is marvelous. They are quite brilliant..." Hermione had changed the subject, and Harry was glad. Thinking about Voldemort and the Order brought up memories that he hadn't dealt with yet.
"Yeah, we should go sometime. Where is it?" he asked her.
She smiled. "They opened it up in Diagon Alley. It's right across the street from Oliveander's Wand Shop...you know...where the Menagerie used to be?"
"Yeah."
The woman Harry had met when he got on the Knight Bus cleared her throat, trying as politely as possible to interrupt their conversation. "Your stop is next, you two. Best be ready to get off..." she whispered.
Hermione and Harry got off the Knight Bus together no less than thirty seconds later. The bus had dropped them right outside the Three Broomsticks. Harry took hold of his trunk and followed Hermione (who now had a slight hop in her step) into the building. The group of people in the back of the room was unmistakable. The flaming red hair gave them away. The entire Weasley family was there...except Percy. Dumbledore was there as well, standing next to Remus Lupin, and behind Nymphadora Tonks. Also seemingly awaiting Harry and Hermione's arrival were Severus Snape and Hagrid.
"Why is everyone already here?" Harry wondered aloud. "Last time I checked, Order meetings weren't held in big open spaces where everyone and their grandma could hear," he smirked.
"Oh, Harry...you and your temper. Calm down. It's probably nothing important if they're all sitting there like that." Hermione whispered to him.
"This isn't the actual Order meeting, Harry," Dumbledore had a way of coming from out of nowhere. He smiled at Harry's surprised expression. "It's this weekend. These people are just gathered for a glass of butter beer and some dinner. Care to join us?"
Harry was almost taken aback. He again surveyed the large group. The idea of the Weasley family conversing happily with Snape at the same table was nearly unimaginable. Harry couldn't help but laugh to himself as he realized that Lupin would be there, too. One of his father's best friends was sitting at the same table as a man his father had practically tortured through his school years. Finally, Harry could only shrug. If these people could manage to sit at the table without ridiculing each other, he would be perfectly all right.
Hermione sat herself next to Ron. Ron, who was usually very pale, turned bright red for some odd reason. His younger sister Ginny nearly snorted into her cup of butter beer. Harry glanced from Ron to Hermione, and back again. Something was going on. Somehow, he had missed something, and now, he was the only one confused. Hermione seemed oblivious to everyone. Ron, still pink in his ears, had finally started eating, and across from Harry, Snape was having a very interesting conversation with Lupin about Quiddich, of all things. Harry listened in. Occasionally, he would glance curiously around the table, but nothing else of interest seemed to happen the rest of the way through the dinner.
"Well, I'll be off, then." Snape hissed. "I have business to attend to, as you all well know."
Mrs. Weasley waved. "You be careful." She whispered to him.
Harry blinked. "Err..." he stood, staring at Snape, and wide-eyed at Mrs. Weasley. "Never mind..."
"You will be coming to the meeting this weekend, won't you Harry?" it was Dumbledore again. "It's being held in London, at the headquarters..."
Harry did a double take. "Where? You mean..." But Dumbledore had raised a finger to silence him, and he nodded. "But I thought...Sirius died, Dumbledore..." Harry groaned.
"Yes, Harry, he did. There is something about that you and I need to discuss, anyway, so I do hope you attend." Dumbledore answered.
"I will. Ron and Hermione are both going as well." He sighed. "I guess I'll see you again this Saturday?" But Dumbledore had turned, and was already out the door.
That night, Harry shared his room at the Three Broomsticks with Ron. The two stayed up quite late talking, and Ron fell asleep sitting up. Harry had to laugh at him. He was having yet another nightmare about spiders (and frankly, after their second year, Harry couldn't blame him). Harry got up, paced the room, and then sat back down. It was then that the red book caught his eye.
Harry's natural curiosity took over. The book was sitting there on Ron's nightstand...but the idea of Ron reading something without being forced to do so was a strange idea indeed. Harry couldn't help himself. He tiptoed over to Ron's nightstand, picked up the book, and flipped it open.
It was nothing but a journal. But then again, since when had Ron kept a journal? Harry flipped through the pages, and stopped at the last page, and what he thought to be the most recent entry. His eyes grew wide as he read what Ron had written.
'I don't think she even knows I exist...well...in that way, anyway. It's absolute torture, you know? I think about her all the time now, and I don't know why. Her and I are nothing alike...and I don't know, but I've always thought that her and Harry would end up an item. Well, obviously that hasn't happened yet, but even still, if Harry knew...he'd probably think I was some giant git or something. Or maybe not? I don't feel like I know anything anymore. She's so confusing! I don't know what to say around her anymore, or what to do, so now I just sit there like I'm thick or something. At least she probably thinks so by now. It used to be so easy to talk to her, but now...it's like I'm scared to really tell her anything. Like I'm scared she's going to run away from me or something.... I wonder what Harry would think of that...what would he think...what would everyone think...if they knew how much I cared about Hermione?'
Harry put on his best gag face and placed the book back where he found it. He laughed to himself. "Boy Ron, you're whipped already and you haven't even had a first date..." he whispered to his sleeping friend. Now that he thought about it, everything Ron had written was true. He had been acting like a toad lately, and now Harry knew why. But then he wondered: did Hermione know? Did she suspect anything? He laid back down, glanced at Ron one last time, and smiled. "I'll help you out, Ron."
Harry was up by the crack of dawn, which was surprising considering how late he had gone to sleep. He ran across the street to the flower shop and bought a dozen lilies. The card, he had made out to Hermione. The sender? Ron. He rushed back across the street, bouquet in hand, and up the stairs of the Three Broomsticks.
"Alohamora," he whispered, unlocking Hermione's door. She was still sleeping, which was good, as he would have been dead had she been awake. He tiptoed across her bedroom, and set the flowers in a chair next to Hermione's bed where she was sure to see them when she woke up.
"What are you doing?" Ron demanded. He had caught Harry tiptoeing through the halls with his wand drawn, and it seemed a bit odd.
"Nothing. Thought I saw a rat," he shrugged. Luckily enough for him, Ron took the bait and followed him quietly down the stairs.
Harry and Ron had already dressed and eaten before Harry heard any commotion coming from Hermione's room. She was finally awake. He could hear her walking around. She hadn't noticed the flowers yet, or she would have....
"Ahh!" Hermione squealed. Ron ran up the stairs, followed closely by Harry. Harry somehow reached Hermione's door first, and creaked it open slowly.
"What's wrong, Hermione?" he asked her.
She was midway through reading the card that came with the flowers she was pointing to. "Ron! Thank you so much!" she smiled, as Ron came into the room completely dumbfounded. She wrapped him tightly in a hug. "You didn't have to buy me flowers...why did you buy me flowers?" she asked.
"Err...you're welcome?" Ron squeaked. From in front of him, where Hermione could not see, Harry gave Ron a thumbs up.
Hermione kicked the both of them out of the room several minutes later so that she could get dressed. She flopped on to her bed, and sighed deeply.
"He gave me flowers. Ron gave me flowers." The thought brought the hugest of grins to her face. "Maybe he does like me?" she whispered to herself. Then, suddenly, as if someone had just slapped her out of reality, "What am I going to wear? I can't go outside looking like this! And Ron looking so nice today..." she ranted in the privacy of her own room.
When she emerged from upstairs thirty or so minutes later, Harry smiled at Ron, and leaned in to whisper, "Looks pretty, doesn't she, Ron?" Ron nodded, and Harry smiled. "You don't have to thank me..." Harry made a decision that day. If Ron couldn't tell Hermione how he felt by himself, he was going to have to get some help...and Harry was definitely willing to help his two best friends.
A/N: How do you like the first chapter? Read and Review please. Thanks!