Disclaimer-I don't own Harry Potter or the song. They belong to JK Rowling and Queen, respectively

A/N-Same deal as "Somebody to Love", switching POVs starting with Hermione. Based on the Queen song "Play The Game."

Backstory-This fics leads straight from "Somebody To Love", which is Ron/Luna. We left off with Harry and Hermione watching from underneath a tree as Draco insulted Luna. Ron stuck up for Luna and fought Draco off. Luna, consequently, spilled her guts to Ron about herself and her mother's death, and Ron agreed to stay with Luna for awhile until she feels better. Luna goes further—she takes his hand and leans her head on his shoulder—but oddly enough, Ron doesn't mind.

Play The Game

I had no idea the Ron could be so mature and nurturing. For once, Luna's eccentric goings-on didn't scare him off. Perhaps if I brought out that side in Ron, I could love him.

I only seem to bring out the worst in him. I know that I antagonize him, and that he antagonizes me, and we bicker so often and so furiously. God help us if he had come clean about his feelings for me before this Luna incident.

"You're quiet, Hermione, that's not like you," Harry says.

My Harry. No, not "My" Harry. I wish he were, though.

Over the past 5 years that we've been friends I've seen Harry in all his shades: Happiness, sadness, humor, anger, playfulness, seriousness. Contradictions that would make even an Aquarius-born reel around, confused.

I hate it that Harry can't see that all his moods are perfect to me because they're HIS. I don't know if I could tolerate them in anyone else. I certainly can't handle some of them in Ron. But everything about Harry is beautiful to me.

What a stupid thing to say. I might as well have been picking my nose while I said it. Smooth, Harry, real smooth.

You know, in a way I admire Luna. This past year she was obvious about her feelings for Ron, and just now was the great giant leap over the canyon, and I'd say she landed, effectively killing the rattlesnake on the other side. What an analogy, huh?

I have not had that kind of luck in my romantic endeavors. The whole Cho fiasco. Good God. A horrible date topped off by a fight over some traitor. Not to mention the whole Yule Ball-Parvati Patil thing.

"Hey, Hermione?"

"Yes?" she answers, looking at me.

"Am I un-dateable?"

She has the weirdest look on her face. Stupid, stupid Harry. Why do you always ask Hermione such stupid questions?

"What do you mean?" she asks. Thank God I asked her. Had I asked any other girl, they'd have immediately spread the word that Harry Potter is a psychotic loner out to destroy romance in all its forms.

"I mean, is there something about me that repels girls? I mean, you know those two dates I had with Parvati or Cho…"

"I don't see how you can say that, Harry!" she yells. She looks angry for some reason. "You just haven't met the right girl, that's all! I mean, maybe you need someone who isn't thinking about the next boy on her waiting list…"

She cuts herself off and clamps her hand over her mouth, blushing. I've never noticed how cute she is when she does that.

Whoa. Did that just run through my brain?

I might as well just hang a sign saying "Hermione Granger loves Harry Potter" around my neck in blaring neon colors. I cannot believe I just talked about his former love interests like that. Now I'm a catty, bitter, stereotypical blonde.

But I really can't help it. Parvati annoyed me at the Yule Ball. I was having a good time with Viktor and then I saw them dancing and it ruined it. Poor Viktor, I was so distracted that I had to send him off for drinks to avoid snapping at him.

And Harry's date with Cho was horrible for me, too. I wanted so badly for Harry to be happy that I didn't even raise a fuss, but I guess I squashed all my efforts by setting up that interview. No matter what any gossipmonger girls say, I did not do that to ruin Harry's date. It's unfortunate that I did.

Is it really, though? Would Cho really be able to make Harry happy?

I have to say that I don't think so. Harry needs some stability. I wouldn't be surprised if Cho was listed as clinically depressed, and I wouldn't even bat an eye if Harry was put on the same list. They can't help each other; they can barely function together as friends, let alone boyfriend/girlfriend.

But Harry and I…are we any different?

Hermione has got quite an emotional edge to her. It amazes me that such a bookworm can be so dramatic sometimes. She has the uncanny ability for sarcasm and exaggeration. Normally that'd tick me off, but it's easy to accept it from her, because she always deflects it with whatever kind of apology or help that she can give.

But she's upset. I know the look of upset firsthand—the look of having something bottled up inside you and unable to tell it for fear of anything—reprisal, humiliation, anger, sadness. I feel it every day at the Durselys'.

"Hey, Hermione, you okay? Is anything wrong?"

Harry has just me if anything is wrong. Yes, of course, something's wrong. I've been in love with him since first year and I still have not said one peep.

Why am I such an idiot about it? I have no trouble telling people exactly what I think of them—something that often brings me to ruin, know that I'm thinking about it. Oh, Good Lord, that's it. I'm afraid it'll bring me to ruin.

I'm being unreasonable and I know it, but when I see how his break-up with Cho went I can't help but feel nervous. They don't even speak anymore; they can barely make eye contact. I don't want that. I don't want to risk it.

And yet…and yet…

"Oh, nothing's wrong, Harry," Hermione says. But she's shifty when she says it. Quirrel-like, in fact. Geh. I'll run away screaming if I see another Quirrel.

"You sure?" I ask.

"Um…well…"

That's not the answer I was expecting. She's beginning to scare me here. She won't even look me in the face.

"Did Malfoy do something to you, like with Luna? Did he threaten you or anything?" I will kill that ferret if he's said or done anything to her…

"No, Harry, just his usual "Filthy mudblood" routine," she answers, but she still won't face me.

"Is this about the…the Ministry or anything?" I ask. I'm babbling, I know, and that's probably not it, either. I have a hard time remembering the Ministry, watching Sirius…I can barely bring myself to think it.

Hermione almost died, too. I remember feeling myself stop breathing when I saw her fall; I nearly puked in relief when Neville said she was okay.

"It's not about that. And don't think about it, either."

That surprises me. Usually she wants me to talk about my feelings. She's a Virgo; they're communicative.

Y'know, I've never really heard Hermione talk about her own feelings before. Always mine. Like when she dragged me out of the room in Grimmauld when I thought I was possessed. Or when I was going spare about the whole Cho thing.

"Well, I'll try not to."

Good God. I might as well start picking my nose right now.

"Hermione, what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, okay!"

"Well, for God's sake, Hermione, why are you ignoring me!" I shout back. People are staring at us now, just like they were staring at Ron and Luna.

She turns around, and I'm startled out of yelling. She's crying. I hate it when she cries. She just looks so helpless and forlorn. Why am I the one making her cry?

"H-hey, I'm sorry, I…"

She's crying harder now. I want to tell off each and every person who's staring right now. Mind your own business, for God's sakes! Don't you people have lives!

Oh. I did just yell it out. Now everyone's looking at me funny.

But Hermione's laughing. She's laughing and crying at the same time. She's so aggravatingly quirky like that.

Harry's adorable when he's irrationally angry like that, and I have to admit, I want to yell at the people who stare at us, too.

"Her-Hermione, seriously, tell me what's wrong," Harry says, bringing his full attention back to me.

I'm still giggling and crying at the same time. What a mess I am. I wipe my eyes and try to stop giggling. I must look a fright to him, but he still looks at me. That's one reason why I love Harry; he takes me seriously.

"Come on, Hermione, tell me what's the matter or I'll…I'll…purposely fail all my N.E.W.T.s."

"You wouldn't dare!" I say, laughing and letting a few tears leak out. I wipe them away, too.

He's not giving up. He wants to know what's what, just like I do. All right, time to stop being a sobbing, hysterical teenage girl. Suck it up, Hermione, you're about to drop the bomb.

"The problem is that I love you, Harry, and I haven't said anything until now!"

Oh…my…God. My best girl friend has just told me that she loves me. And all I can manage is a…

"Whaplehhuh?"

Oh, very smooth, Harry, very smooth.

Her face is a tomato. She's so cute when she blushes…okay, stop that now.

"Well…yes. Yes, Harry, I love you. I want to be your girlfriend. I've wanted to be since first year. Strange how gratitude changes to love, isn't it? I wouldn't be here if you hadn't saved me from the troll, you know."

She's babbling, too. I know Babble-Tongue; it's my native language.

"Hermione. Hermione, stop." I put my hand on her shoulder.

"I knew it!"

I drop my hand. She jumps up, absolutely furious.

"I knew it, I knew it, I knew it! How could you possibly love me, Hermione Granger, who can barely look up from a book for ten seconds to acknowledge her own feelings!"

"Hermione, wait a tick!" I say.

"Stay away from me!" she screeches. She looks ready to scratch out my eyes, but here goes nothing…

"Hermione, I…said…wait!"

I finally have a hold on her arm and am pulling her back down. Good Lord, she slaps pretty hard. I can't get her around to face me. Come on Harry, like a big, angry Snitch. Get a hold…dodge the Bludgers…

And…I'm kissing her.

Harry is an extremely good kisser.

He's finally letting me breathe. He hung on to that kiss for far longer than he needed to. Like he enjoyed it.

"Did you just do that?"

"Well, um…well, yeah," he says, and now it's his turn to blush. "I didn't want you to walk away mad at me or anything."

"Did the thought of me being angry at you affect you that much?"

"Well, yeah! I mean, you're my Hermione, my best girl friend. Honestly, could we function without you?"

"Could you function without me?" I ask. "Just you, Harry? If it was just you and I, could you live without me?"

"I…I…I don't think…so. No."

"You can't imagine life without me."

"Well, I can, but it turns out to be pretty horrible."

Silly boy. Now I'm crying again.

Life without Hermione. Honestly; I'd probably be dead by now. I'd have suffocated under Devil's Snare first off. If I'd survived that, I'd have never met Sirius or given him the chance to be freed. And even if that happened, I'd probably have been fried by a dragon or whatever other creature in 4th year. Or I'd still be believing that I was possessed. And I'd have flunked out of every class I'd ever taken.

"Harry, we've avoided the issue," she says uncertainly. I hate it when she's uncertain, too, for the exact same reason that I hate it when she cries. "You just kissed me after I told you that I love you. What does that mean for us? Do you…do you love me too?"

"Do I love you?" I repeat. "Well…well, yeah."

"I mean, not as your best friend. I mean, as in…boyfriend-girlfriend. Marriage. That kind of love." Her face is bright pink again.

Do I love Hermione?

"Harry, just what about me makes you love me as a friend?" she asks slowly.

"W-well," I say, "The fact that you're intelligent and…and kind and brave and loyal. You never take no for an answer, and…you keep me from getting depressed…"

She makes a small noise. She remembers Christmas last year.

"And you're so passionate about everything," I race on. "And that's annoying but kinda c-cute at the same time. And you're not afraid of being my friend and I'm not just The-Boy-Who-Lived to you. W-why do you love me as a friend or a…a boyfriend?"

"Because you're Harry," she answers promptly. She doesn't look so nervous now. "Because, with slight variations, what you love about me is what I love about you. Your courage, your heart, your brains. I even love your silly temper."

"You do?" I reach out and stroke a strand of her hair. It's soft, in contrast to its looks.

"Harry, do you think all that makes me your friend…could possibly make you want me as a girlfriend?"

Could it? I look at Hermione and my face is confused. I can tell because her eyes are starting to fill up. I have no idea what I'm doing will lead to but…I just hate seeing her cry.

I wipe away her tears with my thumb. "Hey, don't cry, Hermione."

"You don't love me," she whispers. "You don't…"

"Hermione, of course I do."

"Not as a girlfriend…just as a friend…"

"Hermione, stop putting yourself down. Who said I didn't love you as a girlfriend?"

"Wh-what?"

"Do you mean that, Harry?" I ask. I can barely believe my ears. He said he loved me. He said he loved me!

"W-well, let me try it out," he says. "I love you, Hermione." He pauses for a minute, looking as if deciding whether or not a foreign food is palatable to his mouth. And then he grins that silly little grin, the first real smile I've seen on him since June. "I love you, Hermione. Sounds good."

"Then repeat it." Honestly, Hermione, this clingy-girlfriend role does not suit you.

"I love you, Hermione."

Oh, dash it all. Who cares?

"I love you too, Harry."

My hand reaches out to grab the tie of his school uniform. I grab it and tickle his face with it. He laughs, and I laugh out any tears left.

And then I kiss him again.