A.N: Combined Author's Note here. This is a short chapter, because the next one is bound to be really long. We didn't want to pummel you with a huge new chapter, so this one (only 4 pages, very short for us) is a nice little preview of things to come and something that you will hopefully enjoy. Read, review, and we won't cut off your head!
Disclaimer: Baz owns Moulin Rouge! J.K. owns Harry Potter. Don't sue.
Thing TWo's Random Favorite Song of the Day: "Transylvanian Concubine" by Rasputina
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Harry fumed. He couldn't believe Hermione. Why wasn't she telling him? What was she hiding? Why didn't she trust him?
He was so mad that he kicked the wall on the way back to Gryffindor Common Room. This didn't accomplish much, but it did make him feel a bit better.
"Why does love make you do the things you don't want to?" He asked himself. He didn't hate Hermione, quite the opposite. The only reason he was so upset was because he loved her and was concerned.
Despite all that Harry had been through, this was a totally new screwed up situation. Compared to what he was going through now, he'd rather fight Voldemort a few hundred times. Wandless. With his eyes closed.
Kicking the wall again, he yelled without thinking, "Life should not be imitating art!"
If only he really knew all the truth in that statement.
After Hermione sent the owl, she collapsed onto her bed crying. She couldn't believe Harry. Further more, she couldn't believe herself. Not only would she have smoochie with-drawl (okay, so that wasn't the only reason she valued-had valued- their relationship, but it was a definite plus) but it looked like she and Harry would never be friends again. And if there was one thing in the world she hated, it was being angry with Harry. It was impossible to be angry with Harry, really. He was just too good and sweet.
And now I've broken his heart, she thought as she sobbed. And it's all my fault, no one else's. Why couldn't I have just told him that I was at a top-secret meeting instead of being all huffy? Why did I yell? Why did I tell Draco I'd go out with him?
She violently hit her pillow. "I!" she yelled each word after punching her bed "Hate! Life!" And with that, she fell backwards and onto her bed; face down, crying into the deflated pillow.
As usual, there was good news and bad news in a situation such as this.
The bad news was that there were classes the next day, which meant Harry and Hermione couldn't escape each other. They sat next to each other in every class, helped each other with homework, and were partners on a project. It was like God wanted them to be tortured.
The good news was that they didn't have to help each other in their studies, really. And the class that they had to work on the project in wasn't until Wednesday. But sitting next to each other in class was unavoidable.
Hermione walked slowly into the Great Hall for breakfast, having, for once in her life, spent over half an hour applying makeup so it would look like she had slept that night. Out of habit, she scanned the hall for Harry and then remembered they most likely wouldn't be speaking to each other.
So instead of sitting in her normal place, she located Ginny and sat with her. Ginny normally was surrounded by a small group of friends, but today, the youngest Weasley was sitting alone reading a book while she ate a muffin.
"Hi Ginny," Hermione said, sitting in the seat next to her. "Is it all right if I sit with you today?"
"Sure." Ginny smiled, setting down her book. "If you don't mind my asking, why aren't you sitting with Ron and Harry?"
Hermione quickly thought of some possible excuses, but decided to settle on the truth. Or at least, some of the truth. "Harry and I had a fight. It wasn't anything big, we just need some time to cool off."
"I understand." Ginny said, truly not. Harry and Hermione hardly ever fought. "I'm sure things will smooth out."
"Yeah," Hermione said, almost sadly. "Where are your friends?"
"Oh, they're doing some extra credit work for Prof. Flitwick." Said Ginny, "and that's really not my thing. I'm trying to be an original Weasley." Seeing Hermione's expression, she elaborated. "Oh, I just want to different from all my brothers. I know neither Fred and George nor Ron would've done that, but I'm making better grades than them, and I'm not a prefect either. So that's new for our family."
"It must be hard for you." Hermione said sympathetically. "Ron's said some of the same things to me too."
"Yeah, when you're in a family that big, being an individual is key." Ginny said. "I love my family, but sometimes I wish I could separate myself from them. Oh well, why are we talking about this? We should be talking about fun things!"
They chatted idily for the rest of breakfast until Hermione checked her watch. "Oh Goddess, I've got to get to class! I'll see you later!" she said, grabbing her books and heading towards Potions.
Yes, as if her day couldn't get worse, her first class was Potions. Potions was still a merry Hell, but Snape wasn't as bad anymore. It was just the Slytherins that made everything bad. With this being their last year, both houses were at each other's necks to get the most points.
The first person she saw was Harry. He was standing with Ron, talking about something. Ron waved to her, and she waved back. 'Remember,' she told herself 'you're not really mad at Harry. I mean, you are, but not the kind of mad that you were last night'.
"Hi guys." She said quietly. Ron looked at her sympathetically, which meant Harry must've already told him something. "Did you guys do your homework?"
"Yes." They both answered at once. Harry was avoiding eye contact.
Ron was left in the middle, a situation that he had never been in before. It was usually Harry or Hermione in the middle, but never him. Now he knew how they felt. "Do we have rehearsal tonight?" He asked, a weak stab at making conversation.
"No." Hermione said, looking anywhere but Harry. He was doing the same, only looking anywhere but Hermione.
Ron was about ready to explode. The silence was killing him. "You did the Potions essay?" he asked. "It wasn't too bad, was it?"
"I did it last night." Hermione said quietly.
They stood in uncomfortable silence until Snape let them into the class. He looked tired. Hermione instantly felt sorry for the teacher she had despised for so many years. She knew that he was working almost all the time against the dark side now, and hardly had time to sleep much less teach.
Snape gave them busy-work for the period while he drifted in and out of the classroom every now and then. Everyone knew where he was constantly going, to talk with Dumbledore about what was going on.
The fear was there, in everyone. No one talked about it, but it was present. Sometimes, when it was dark out, and when they tried to sleep, there wasn't a student at Hogwarts who wasn't worried about what might happen soon. It was hanging in the air, so close, but invisible, something to be ignored until bed, when nightmares could feed.
The rest of the day passed like Potions. Harry kept out of Hermione's way, and she kept out of his. It was better this way, really. It hurt-Oh God it hurt so bad- but they both thought that it would hurt more if they had to be together.
They didn't do their homework together that night. Normally, Hermione would come over to the common room to do homework, but not tonight.
The next day was more of the same. Sad, depressing, pick an adjective that describes sadness, that's what it was. Hermione skipped breakfast entirely, and instead stayed in the library until classes started.
Harry was just as worse as she was. He wasn't really talking much, and if he did talk, it was to Ron. He knew something was missing. The Three Musketeers weren't together, and it was wrong.
Hell, everyone could tell that there was trouble in paradise. Lauren was about to have an aneurysm when she saw them in class together, more to the point, not together.
"The play's ruined." She sobbed to Dumbledore, "They're fighting, they bloody hate each other."
Ron was about to go crazy with the strain of being stuck in the middle.
Ginny was worried. Harry and Hermione fighting was like her parents fighting. Even though it would all turn out okay in the end, she was still scared that it wouldn't.
And Hermione was on the verge of a nervous breakdown as she sat there, trying to do her homework. She couldn't concentrate on it, all she could think of was the horrible things she had said to Harry.
A knock on the door jarred her out of her thoughts. "Oh good," she said to herself. "Maybe it will be some depressed fourth year who has more problems than me."
She opened the door and saw Harry standing outside.
"Forgive me?" he asked, gazing at Hermione with his green eyes.
"No," Hermione said sadly. Harry's face fell. He shouldn't have taken Ron's advice. "Because you didn't do anything wrong." Hermione finished. "Oh Harry, this is all my fault!" Hermione started to cry, standing sadly in the doorframe.
Harry's defense mechanism (more like defense for Hermione mechanism) went off, and he pulled her into his arms as she started to sob louder. He walked her into the room, closing the door by kicking it. "No Mione, it's my fault. I overreacted. Don't cry, really."
"I'm sorry." She sobbed. "So sorry. So sorry."
"Shh Mione, it's all right." Harry said, the two of them falling onto the couch. "I was pigheaded and stupid. You had every right to be mad at me."
"No I didn't," Hermione cried. "You were worried about me, and, and that's good. It means you care. But I had to go and ruin it all." She wiped away her remaining tears. "And then I did something really horrible."
"No you didn't." Harry said, smoothing back her hair. "You couldn't have done anything horrible. You're Hermione. Patron saint of all things Good."
"No I'm not. I'm horrible. Oh Harry, will you ever be able to forgive me?" Hermione said, looking at Harry with large chocolate eyes. He nodded, wondering what on earth Hermione had done. "I told Draco I'd go out with him Christmas Eve."