That night, Ron and Hermione were late coming down to dinner. When they finally showed up, both of them were flushed and had very guilty looks on their faces. Ron was grinning madly.

"So, who spilled the beans?" Harry asked them.

"Whatever do you mean?" asked Hermione in the most innocent voice she could muster.

"I mean which one of you was the first to finally confess how you felt to the other ?" Harry said bluntly.

"Felt about what?" replied ron. Then Lindsay gave him one of her death glares "okay okay, you caught us! Happy now?" Ron said slightly irritated.

"Yes, Now tell us, who said it first?" demanded Harry.

"If you must knnow, it was me" Ron said proudly. Harry's face sunk.

"HA! Harry, you SO owe me twenty galleons!" Lindsay stated triumphantly. Harry continued to grumble. "I'll expect payment by tomorrow!"

"You were betting on us?" said Hermione outraged.

"Yes, it was rather entertaining to watch both of you try to express your feelings." replied Lindsay. "By the way Ron, is that lipstick on your neck, or do you turn red there too?" At this, the rest of his neck did turn red "oh, I guess you do!" Said Lindsay playfully.

"I guess we know why you're late to dinner!" accused Harry

"shut up!" Hermione and ron snapped in unison, slightly embarassed.

"Well, you took so long that I finished my meal. I'm going to the common room, see ya later okay Harry?" Lindsay said without waiting to hear an answer, she was so nervous about tonight, and being the analitical person she is, she went back up to her dorm to think over every possible scenario and either over simplify or over complicate the situation in her head, doing that always calmed her down oddly enough.

When she got ther though, she found her discman lying on her bed right where she left it the night before. So she decided to calm down with that, take her mind off things, just her luck the CD in there was by one of her favourite artists from back home, 'Carolyn Dawn Johnson: Room With A View' (she'd never admit it to anyone, but her dad had gotten her addicted to country music!) She put the player on shuffle and the first song that came on was her fave on the album, Complicated (no not by the teeny-bopper-punk-wanna-be-avril, the good song by the name of complicated)

I'm so scared that the way that I feel, is written all over my face,
when you walk into the room, I wanna find a hiding place,
we used to laugh, we used to hug, the way that old friends do,
but now a smile and a touch of your hand, just makes me come unglued.

Such a contradiction, should I lie or tell the truth?
Is it fact or fiction? Oh, the way I feel for you?

It's so complicated, I'm so frustrated!
I wanna hold you close,
I wanna push you away,
I wanna make you go,
I wanna maky you stay.

Should I say it?
Should I tell you how I feel?
Oh I want you to know, but then again I don't
it's so complicated.

Just when I think I'm under control, I think I finally got a grip
Another friend tells me that, My name is always on your lips
They say I'm more than just a friend, They say I must be blind
Well, I admit that I've seen you watch me from the corner of your eye

Oh, it's so confusing
Yeah, I wish you'd just confess
But think of what I'd be losing
If your answer wasn't yes

It's so complicated, I'm so frustrated!
I wanna hold you close,
I wanna push you away,
I wanna make you go,
I wanna make you stay.

Should I say it?
Should I tell you how I feel?
Oh, I want you to know, but then again I don't
It's so complicated (oh)

I hate it
'Cause I've waited
So long for someone like you
Oh, what do I do?

Why should I say it?
Should I tell you how I feel?
Oh, I want you to know, but then again I don't
It's so complicated (complicated)
So complicated (complicated)
It's so complicated, oh

By the end she was crying, 'ya SOME WAY TO GET MY MIND OFF THINGS!' she thought angrily to herself. She finally settled on trying to read 'Merlin, I'm acting like hermie!' but she found a good thriller novel ( a Terrible beauty by Graham Masterton) and engrossed herself in it.

Before she knew it, it was quarter past eleven. 'Well, it's now or never' she thought to herself as she climbed through the portrait hole and assumed the shape of professor Minerva McGonagall.