The Bracelet
Chapter 3
It had been a few weeks after the incident by the lake, and Harry, trying not to think about Hermione, dived into his schoolwork. If he wasn't playing quidditch, he was doing homework in the common room, and shouting irritably at anyone who tried to talk to him. Especially Ron, who was with him now.
"Come ON Harry. I don't know what's go into you. Don't tell me Hermione's ways have rubbed off on you too." Harry flinched, momentarily, at the mention of her name. "All you seem to do now is work, except when we're playing quidditch. You're not eating either. Come down to dinner."
"No Ron. I'm not hungry." Harry snapped. "Just go on ahead. I need to finish this essay."
"But..." Ron protested, but Harry just turned his seat away from him. "Oh I give up. You know where I am if you want to join me." Ron sighed, and made his way through the portrait hole.
All the teachers, even Snape, had noticed a sudden upsurge in the amount of work Harry was doing. He was beginning to overtake Hermione in her frantic note-copying in some classes. McGonnagall cornered him after one particular transfiguration lesson about the 6ft of parchment he had just handed in.
"I only asked you to do 3ft Potter. This is all good work, surprisingly, but a lot of it is regurgitating what you have already written. You've been awfully quiet in classes, Harry. Don't look at me like that. I notice. You hardly say a word to Mr Weasley and Miss Granger anymore. Is something the matter? Have you three had an argument?"
"No, Professor. I, um, I just really liked the topic of this piece of homework and enjoyed writing about it."
McGonnagall looked at Harry for a second.
"Very well. If you're sure. Now you'd better go to lunch."
"Yes Professor." Harry replied, but he had no intention of going to the Great Hall. His stomach had been filled with a horrible sickly feeling for weeks now, and he couldn't stop thinking about Hermione. It had started to depress him, and, by what Ron said earlier, then McGonagall....people were starting to notice. But what was worse than all this, was that he didn't understand it. Well, he had come to some realisations, but didn't understand why this would affect him so. So what, he had a crush on Hermione, but it shouldn't make him feel like this, should it?
Harry walked to the library, which was on the other side of the castle from the transfiguration class. He stopped in the doorway. Hermione was in there. Great. He considered walking back and going to the common room, but he couldn't avoid her forever, she'd notice. He walked in, as casually as he could manage, and said a quick hi to her, and began to browse the shelves. He wasn't looking for any book in particular, just looking. Partly for an excuse to stay in the same room as her, which was stupid, as she was one of his best friends. He was watching her, under the pretence of examining the spines of some books on the shelves. He loved the little things she did. He smiled, and blushed, as he realised. He didn't have a crush on Hermione. He loved her.
As soon as the thought passed his head, it left quickly, and with a drop in his heart, he realised he could never tell her. Of course she wasn't interested in him like that. She liked him as a friend, and a friend only. And if he somehow gained the courage to speak to her, it may ruin their friendship...she may be weird around him, and he'd have lost her as a friend. Sighing deeply, causing a first year to look curiously at him. He'd rather always be her friend and nothing more, than not have her as anything at all. Recomposing himself, he picked up a random book from the shelf and sat opposite his friend.
"What's been up with you recently Harry?" Hermione asked.
"Oh nothing, just schoolwork, and I've not been sleeping well."
"You've not been eating either."
"Just leave me alone. So what, I'm a bit depressed, I'm entitled to be."
There was a silence between the two, both a little shocked at his outburst.
"I'm sorry Harry, I just..."
"It's ok. I didn't mean to take it out on you."
The two put their eyes back to their own books for a while. Hermione was reading a book with rare potion ingredients in it, obviously, Harry suspected, for the extra-hard potions homework Snape had set them this morning. She had a piece of parchment, and he could see that she had already taken down quite a lot of notes from it. He looked at his own book. "The Properties of Common Grass and 101 Very Useful Uses for It."
"Come on, I said I'd meet Ron in the Great Hall, we'd better go and join him." Hermione said, getting to her feet, and tucking away her notes into a pocket in her robes. Her eyes landed on the book in front of Harry. "Grass?"
"I, um, yeah...Just looking up for...um...practical jokes. Yeah, to, um, throw into Malfoy's potion as revenge." Harry stammered.
Hermione just laughed and put her book back, and the two of them made their way to the Hall. He was feeling better now, yes; he can avoid this...thing. Friends is the best thing. They entered the Hall and took their seats at the Gryffindor table beside Ron.
"Hi Harry!" Ron said, a little too enthusiastically.
"Hi."
Hermione and Ron exchanged smiles. It was obvious they had both been worried about him. Harry didn't like this fuss, and it made him uncomfortable that they have probably been discussing him, in a caring way, of course, behind his back. Which was odd, seeing as how it had been a daily part of his life since coming to Hogwarts and learning about his past, but not from his best friends. He reached for a sandwich from the plates of food that had appeared before them, and tucked in. He didn't feel as sickly ill as he had felt recently, but that longing in the pit of his stomach remained.
A few hours later, Ron and Hermione had said goodnight to Hermione and Ginny and were walking up to the dorm.
"You seem to be in a better mood, mate. Whatever it is, I'm glad. We missed you." Ron said, clearly feeling awkward at the slushy stuff. Harry went to bed that night with a smile, and fell asleep a lot quicker than he had been recently.
Chapter 3
It had been a few weeks after the incident by the lake, and Harry, trying not to think about Hermione, dived into his schoolwork. If he wasn't playing quidditch, he was doing homework in the common room, and shouting irritably at anyone who tried to talk to him. Especially Ron, who was with him now.
"Come ON Harry. I don't know what's go into you. Don't tell me Hermione's ways have rubbed off on you too." Harry flinched, momentarily, at the mention of her name. "All you seem to do now is work, except when we're playing quidditch. You're not eating either. Come down to dinner."
"No Ron. I'm not hungry." Harry snapped. "Just go on ahead. I need to finish this essay."
"But..." Ron protested, but Harry just turned his seat away from him. "Oh I give up. You know where I am if you want to join me." Ron sighed, and made his way through the portrait hole.
All the teachers, even Snape, had noticed a sudden upsurge in the amount of work Harry was doing. He was beginning to overtake Hermione in her frantic note-copying in some classes. McGonnagall cornered him after one particular transfiguration lesson about the 6ft of parchment he had just handed in.
"I only asked you to do 3ft Potter. This is all good work, surprisingly, but a lot of it is regurgitating what you have already written. You've been awfully quiet in classes, Harry. Don't look at me like that. I notice. You hardly say a word to Mr Weasley and Miss Granger anymore. Is something the matter? Have you three had an argument?"
"No, Professor. I, um, I just really liked the topic of this piece of homework and enjoyed writing about it."
McGonnagall looked at Harry for a second.
"Very well. If you're sure. Now you'd better go to lunch."
"Yes Professor." Harry replied, but he had no intention of going to the Great Hall. His stomach had been filled with a horrible sickly feeling for weeks now, and he couldn't stop thinking about Hermione. It had started to depress him, and, by what Ron said earlier, then McGonagall....people were starting to notice. But what was worse than all this, was that he didn't understand it. Well, he had come to some realisations, but didn't understand why this would affect him so. So what, he had a crush on Hermione, but it shouldn't make him feel like this, should it?
Harry walked to the library, which was on the other side of the castle from the transfiguration class. He stopped in the doorway. Hermione was in there. Great. He considered walking back and going to the common room, but he couldn't avoid her forever, she'd notice. He walked in, as casually as he could manage, and said a quick hi to her, and began to browse the shelves. He wasn't looking for any book in particular, just looking. Partly for an excuse to stay in the same room as her, which was stupid, as she was one of his best friends. He was watching her, under the pretence of examining the spines of some books on the shelves. He loved the little things she did. He smiled, and blushed, as he realised. He didn't have a crush on Hermione. He loved her.
As soon as the thought passed his head, it left quickly, and with a drop in his heart, he realised he could never tell her. Of course she wasn't interested in him like that. She liked him as a friend, and a friend only. And if he somehow gained the courage to speak to her, it may ruin their friendship...she may be weird around him, and he'd have lost her as a friend. Sighing deeply, causing a first year to look curiously at him. He'd rather always be her friend and nothing more, than not have her as anything at all. Recomposing himself, he picked up a random book from the shelf and sat opposite his friend.
"What's been up with you recently Harry?" Hermione asked.
"Oh nothing, just schoolwork, and I've not been sleeping well."
"You've not been eating either."
"Just leave me alone. So what, I'm a bit depressed, I'm entitled to be."
There was a silence between the two, both a little shocked at his outburst.
"I'm sorry Harry, I just..."
"It's ok. I didn't mean to take it out on you."
The two put their eyes back to their own books for a while. Hermione was reading a book with rare potion ingredients in it, obviously, Harry suspected, for the extra-hard potions homework Snape had set them this morning. She had a piece of parchment, and he could see that she had already taken down quite a lot of notes from it. He looked at his own book. "The Properties of Common Grass and 101 Very Useful Uses for It."
"Come on, I said I'd meet Ron in the Great Hall, we'd better go and join him." Hermione said, getting to her feet, and tucking away her notes into a pocket in her robes. Her eyes landed on the book in front of Harry. "Grass?"
"I, um, yeah...Just looking up for...um...practical jokes. Yeah, to, um, throw into Malfoy's potion as revenge." Harry stammered.
Hermione just laughed and put her book back, and the two of them made their way to the Hall. He was feeling better now, yes; he can avoid this...thing. Friends is the best thing. They entered the Hall and took their seats at the Gryffindor table beside Ron.
"Hi Harry!" Ron said, a little too enthusiastically.
"Hi."
Hermione and Ron exchanged smiles. It was obvious they had both been worried about him. Harry didn't like this fuss, and it made him uncomfortable that they have probably been discussing him, in a caring way, of course, behind his back. Which was odd, seeing as how it had been a daily part of his life since coming to Hogwarts and learning about his past, but not from his best friends. He reached for a sandwich from the plates of food that had appeared before them, and tucked in. He didn't feel as sickly ill as he had felt recently, but that longing in the pit of his stomach remained.
A few hours later, Ron and Hermione had said goodnight to Hermione and Ginny and were walking up to the dorm.
"You seem to be in a better mood, mate. Whatever it is, I'm glad. We missed you." Ron said, clearly feeling awkward at the slushy stuff. Harry went to bed that night with a smile, and fell asleep a lot quicker than he had been recently.