AN: I really can't make them longer without rushing the story. Sorry! But I'll try to move it along quicker.

Russetwolf 713: See, there's a metaphor in there somewhere… (".)

magicpens: Thank you!

Chapter Eight

After the initial awkwardness, Harry began to calm down in Hermione's company. But as silence descended, Harry's troubles sprang back to life in his mind. He tried not to look at Hermione; when he did, colour poured into his face.

Hermione had long ago learned to control her outward emotions, but noticed Harry's anguished glances in her direction. She began to lose the thread of her essay. She hardly dared think about it. The question: Could he..? kept spiralling through her mind.

"Enough of this," said Hermione, dropping her quill. "Fancy a game of chess?"

"Great idea," said Harry, glad not to be the first to quit.

They took to one of the wizard chessboards in the corner of the Common Room. "And I'm nowhere near as good as Ron," laughed Hermione as her bishop beat Harry's king senseless. He was disgusted to feel a little stab of jealousy every time Ron's name was mentioned. Hermione made a mental note and said, "I'm going up to get ready for bed."

No no no ,moaned Harry's brain, as he, too, went to change into pyjamas, Not Hermione, why did it have to be Hermione? It was anger and pain, embarrassment and despair... this couldn't be love. Love wasn't supposed to turn you into a wreck – was it?

When Harry stepped into the Common Room five minutes later his jaw hit the floor. She was wearing a very revealing lacy confection. A fire was burning in her eyes; her expression was odd – a little shy, a little daring, her head tilted a little.

Behind the scrap of fabric she wore, Hermione's heart was drumming against her ribs but the look in Harry's eyes told her that she'd guessed it right. She advanced.

"Funny, really," she said casually. "Five years of friendship and suddenly... everything changes. You know, don't you?"

"Kn-know what?" stammered Harry. He barely dared believe it. Amazement and glee exploded in his heart all at once.

"Harry…" The fire was softer now, her voice was gentle, her lips were against his in a hungry, searching kiss. Harry kissed back, overwhelmed with happiness and struck by sudden desire.

It was better than Hermione had ever imagined: why on earth had Cho cried? Harry was a wonderful kisser. She knew she was jumping the gun by wearing the negligee, but it was either that or her old flannels and she'd wanted to get his attention. Leaning in to kiss him was one of the scariest things she had ever done, but feeling him return the kiss made all the pain and longing of the past year seem worthwhile.

And then it was over. "How long have you felt this way?" Harry asked.

"I don't know…" she cast her mind around. "End of fourth year, I suppose. You?"

"Erm- about three days."

Hermione looked stunned, as though he'd slapped her. "You mean-" she began slowly.

"I mean I didn't realise it," he added hurriedly.

Hermione flopped onto a sofa. Her world seemed to be falling away around her feet. Harry didn't love her. It was just a spur of the moment thing.

Seeing her expression, Harry gave up. "I thought you and Ron were... and then I realised that I didn't want that. I was jealous. I was as stunned as you are. And it hurt so much." He reached out tentatively and took her hand. She didn't resist. "I never felt this way about Cho."

She smiled a little. Maybe this wasn't what she'd planned, but she could make the best of it. She could tell herself it was going to last forever; perhaps a few weeks would be enough.