The muse strikes again!

Summary: A few rather careless comments from Ron spark thoughts in Hermione's mind. A song-fic of sorts, "of sorts" because I wrote the song. (r/h, oc/oc)

Chapter One: You Don't Notice

"Wow. . ."

"I can't believe it!"

"Did you see that? Did you see that? Bloody –"

Astronomy class, needless to say, had never been this exciting. Except when Hagrid . . . and then Professor McGonagall . . . but that wasn't like now. This was good exciting.

Hermione Granger, Head Girl and a head shorter than her two best friends, had a tingly feeling all over. A meteor shower, which she had never seen before, was so . . . cool. Her brilliant vocabulary failed her.

Of course, she told herself, that tingling just might have something to do with how close Ronald Weasley was standing behind her. His body was actually in contact her body. Who cared about robes, he was touching her. Another small shiver crawled up her spine. Hermione adjusted her telescope again and gave a hopefully inaudible sigh (What on Earth would I say if he heard and asked me what was the matter? 'Oh, nothing, really, your arm just touched mine.'?). Why didn't he notice . . .

Professor Duffy, the new, nervous and Irish (although she didn't look it, there was something in her voice – and her name – that gave her away) astronomy teacher who was rather fond of clearing her throat, cleared her throat. "A-hem! Those looking now should – a-hem! – give the ones behind them a chance. A-hem!"

Hermione reluctantly left the telescope and let Ron take a look. He gave her a grin before moving the telescope to his own height. Suddenly it seemed balmier than it should have been for October. Closing her eyes a moment, she had a brief vision of a palm tree and a certain boy in swimming trunks . . .

As echoes of "No way!" and "Did you see that? Bloody –" faded, Ron smacked the telescope in frustration. "No! I didn't see that! My telescope –" Professor Duffy hurried over, clearing her throat.

"A-hem! Mr. Weasley, perhaps you haven't – a-hem! – adjusted it correctly."

"Hermione was the one who adjusted it. Of course it's adjusted correctly. But I can't see."

All the warm feelings Hermione had been having fled. As Professor Duffy tried out the telescope for herself, a new train of thought appeared in her brain. I'd have to agree with you, Ronald. You can't see anything at all. Hermione hugged herself and looked up at the sky, over at Harry, anywhere but at Ron.

You say you can't see
I'd have to agree
When you look at me
It's no surprise
You don't notice
The love in my eyes

Professor Sheila Duffy took another peek through the telescope. Was there something wrong with Ronald Weasley's eyes? There was the meteor shower, plain as the nose on her face. Plainer and clearer than me, it would seem, she thought mournfully. She cleared her throat, unreasonably scared that someone had heard her thoughts. Her nervous persona and quiet voice sometimes caused people to bypass her easily, a fact she had always resented. I'm right here in the open, she wrote in her diary a couple years ago. So, why does everyone act like I'm invisible?

Her first day at Hogwarts, after the assembly at the Great Hall where she had been introduced to everyone, she had been asked four times who she was. Sheila bet that no one had asked Professor Kent who he was. Alden Kent was a very happy, bright, out-there-for-everyone-to-admire person when compared Shelia. Everyone was a bright, happy person when compared to Sheila. But Alden was just happy and cheery all the time. He made Sheila laugh. He made Sheila cry, but never on purpose . . . surely, never on purpose . . .

Sheila blew back a lock of brown hair that hung on her eyebrow. Her best friend Kathey always told her she was unconventionally beautiful. Irish beauties were supposed to have long, curly red hair and sparkling green eyes, an angular face and be farmer's daughters. A round face (cherub-like, Kathey always cooed) with blue-green eyes (not hazel, Kathey always insisted, bi-colored) and brown hair that could never be coaxed into curling was all Sheila had to offer, and instead of being an innocent (stupid, Kathey muttered) farmer's daughter, she was a city girl with brains. If she had been born in London, all of that would've been okay. If her name was, say, Kathey Mathers, no one would think on her looks being odd. But, no, she was Sheila Duffy, and she was never what her teachers, employers or students thought she would be.

"Professor Duffy?" asked Hermione Granger, the cleverest witch Sheila had ever met. "Are you all right?" Ron gave her a strange look. Sheila had noticed that Ron was not very adept at noticing things, rather like a handsome, blonde man she knew . . .

"A-hem! Yes, I'm fine."

Hermione didn't look convinced, but Ron turned back to the telescope with an exclamation of "Whoa! Those are pieces of rock?" It occurred to Sheila that the whole male population was blind to the obvious. When Ron reached backward and grabbed her hand in an effort to show her them, Hermione turned a brilliant shade of pink. A shade Sheila was positive that she had turned last week when Alden had bumped into her and dropped all his books.

He was blind to everything about her.

Are you blind?
Are you blind?
Or is it just me
You can't see?

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