CHAPTER TEN: Mistake

The first weekend of November would mark the first Hogsmeade trip of the school year. Harry, who had been so preoccupied with schoolwork and other things, had almost forgotten the main reason he had been looking forward to going was because he needed a new broom. His desperate need for a replacement for his Firebolt had taken a backseat in recent days, as his thoughts seemed to focus on something new entirely. It felt strange to catch himself thinking about such things. He had never before allowed his thoughts to wonder so frequently about something that was absolutely absurd and impossible. He did not like Hermione – he couldn't like her, could he? But that seemed to be all he was capable of thinking about since Cho had all but accused him of having feelings for his best friend. He had denied it of course because it was ridiculous. Hermione was one of the closest people to him and he would do anything for her, but never before had he even considered that he harbored deeper feelings for her. But the longer he thought on it, the less farfetched it seemed to be. She knew him better than anyone else, except for maybe Ron, and she had been there with him through everything over the years. No matter how hard he tried pushing her away, she always pushed back equally as hard. Now he found himself watching her in this completely different light. How she would concentrate on a book she was ready, the way she behaved in class and bite her bottom lip when she was nervous or worried – it was as if he was seeing her do all these things for the first time. He couldn't believe how oblivious he had been. She really was quite beautiful. What he didn't understand was how he had never noticed this before. He attributed that to the fact that he had been so wrapped up in Cho over the last three years he hadn't really noticed many other girls. Now, whenever he was around her he wasn't sure how to act. Nothing had changed and yet everything had changed.

They had a table to themselves in the common room, as it was still early in the evening and most of Gryffindor was still at dinner. Harry would have liked nothing more than to still be down in the Great Hall with Ron and everyone else, but he had ignored his Arithmancy essay for the better part of the week and Hermione continuously nagging at his side that he better get started on it since it was a Hogsmeade weekend eventually had the desired effect and he caved. He wasn't doing terribly well in that class either, which didn't come as a shock since he didn't know what he was doing half the time. Why had he decided to pick being curse breaker as one of his career options? He should have picked something simpler, like a muggle liason or a troll trainer.

His mind started to wonder, which had become the norm of late. He risked looking at her while she was absorbed in her Arithmancy homework. Too late to look away, she caught him staring and gave him a funny look.

"You've been looking at me strangely all week," she said, looking at him. "Did I do something?"

Shit. She had noticed him staring at her. His life was already screwed up enough as it was and here he was entertaining the kind of thoughts about Hermione that he would never admit out loud to anyone. She was his best friend, which made it even more wrong. "You haven't done anything," he responded a bit too quickly and went back to his work.

"Do you want me to look over what you have so far?" She asked, pointing at his half written page of parchment.

He passed it to her and she began checking over what he had written. Her quill scratched noisily, crossing things out and adding things in. A minute later she handed it back to him, saying, "that's really good, Harry. You got the order right. You just named the pattern wrong and left out a few points. I wrote them in for you, so all you have to do is just write it over when you're done."

He supposed that meant he was learning, which was an improvement all on its own, but he didn't think he'd be able to write another foot and a half on the Greek numeric system of the fifteenth century. Regardless, he opened his text to the index page and began skimming through it for any information to do with his topic.

"Are you meeting Cho in Hogsmeade tomorrow?" She sounded genuinely interested, and not like she wanted to start an argument with him.

"Even if we were talking you know we can't," he said looking up from his open book.

Hermione's expression became one of surprise at this news. "Did you two have a fight?"

"Hermione, you don't have to pretend to care, because I know you don't approve of what we're doing."

"I may not approve but I still care about you, Harry."

He still wasn't sure how comfortable he felt discussing Cho with her. It almost always seemed to lead to an argument.

"What was it about?"

"What was what about?" He asked.

"The reason you aren't speaking to her."

"It's more like she's not speaking to me," he told her.

"That still doesn't explain why you two aren't talking."

"Hermione, it's private," he said, his tone sharper then he intended it to be. He cursed inwardly. "Look, its just I don't think you really want to know is all."

"Harry, if you don't want to tell me that's fine." There was no trace of anger in her voice as she spoke. "I just thought that you might want a female perspective on things. I understand if you would rather have the advice of someone more experienced, like Lavender or Parvati – "

"It was about you," he blurted out, not looking at her.

Hermione stopped her ramblings and gave him a baffled look.

"She said some rubbish like she couldn't compete with you and that maybe I should be with you instead," he plunged on, still focusing on anything but her.

They had fought about her? How could Cho even think Harry was interested in her? "Well Cho's obviously wrong, Harry. I know how you feel about her. Honestly, she has no reason to feel threatened by me." She's just probably starting to feel guilty for what she's doing, she added silently.

"How can you know what I feel for when I don't even know that?" He questioned her. "It's like what you said, I'm just using her, right?"

She flinched at the harshness in his voice. "Harry, it's like a self-fulfilling prophecy. Once she said those things to you, you were bound to start thinking about it. But you don't like me, Harry, you know that don't you?"

"Of course," he answered, and he couldn't quite meet her gaze as he said it.

Neither one of them mentioned it again after that. In fact, they didn't speak much at all. Though he was struggling miserably to write his essay, he couldn't bring himself to ask for her help. When he would finally turn in for the night, he wouldn't have more than a few lines written on top of what he already had.

The newly opened Quidditch supply store in Hogsmeade was full of Hogwarts students of all different ages on that Saturday morning. Ron had to push his way through the hoards of students blocking aisles and ogling over merchandise. He only wished he had the money to buy a few of the things he spotted in there. There were a few bits of Keeper equipment he wouldn't have minded getting, but he tore himself away from that to help Harry pick out a new broom. He stood by his friend's side, offering whatever advice he could based on what he had read in his Quidditch Weekly magazines.

"It got top ratings from the Holland and Romanian seekers" he was telling Harry about the Nimbus line he was currently inspecting. "But the new Firebolt line is supposed to be made speficically for Seekers."

Harry put back the Nimbus and picked up the Firebolt, holding it by its sleek handle. He looked at the price tag and swallowed, glad for the first time that Hermione hadn't come over to look at the brooms with them. She would probably lecture there were far better things he could spend his money on, while he would be forced to disagree. Of course the Firebolt's had almost doubled in price since he had gotten his first one three years ago.

"I heard Jeffery Davis from Ravenclaw bought a Nimbus 2004 and just made some adjustments to it. It's supposed to be close to a Firebolt in speed now."

"So he just upgraded his broom?" Harry asked, putting down the Firebolt and picking up the newest Nimbus model again.

"Loads of professional players do it," Ron told him, "they just don't say anything about it because they don't want to have their broom investigated by the league. Not all modifications are legal."

Harry began to give Ron's idea serious contemplation. The Nimbus was nearly half the price of the Firebolt. It wasn't that he couldn't afford to spend that kind of money on a broom, he just wasn't sure if he wanted another Firebolt. It would never have the same meaning for him as his other one had.

Ron picked up a box lying on the shelf beside the brooms labeled, Magical Broom Upgrading Kit – for the Hands On Quidditch Player. "It doesn't look too complicated," he said, skimming over the writing on the outside of the box. "I could give you a hand with it. If it works, maybe I'll see about asking mum for one of these for Christmas."

He tossed the box over to Harry who began reading the instructions on the box more carefully than Ron had. "Where did Hermione go?" He put extra emphasis on examining the box as he spoke.

"She's got to be around here somewhere," said Ron. "She's been acting kind of off this morning. Have you noticed?"

"Really?" Harry said, still not looking at him.

"It's probably nothing," said Ron without concern. "Listen, why don't you keep looking here and I'll find her. When you're done we can head over to Honeydukes."

Harry agreed and Ron left him to search for Hermione. In a Quidditch store, it didn't take him long to find her. She was obviously out of her element here. Where every one else roamed the store with great excitement, the only way to describe Hermione was bored. She was leafing uninterestingly through a Quidditch book called Greatest Defensive Tactics of Our Time when he approached her from behind. He took great care to make sure no one was paying them any attention before slipping his arms around her waist.

"You must be hard up for something to read if you're looking at that," he said with a grin.

She appeared startled by his sudden appearance, but quickly recovered. She placed the book back on the shelf where she had gotten it from.

Ron's grin disappeared. There definitely was something off with her. Her lack of a witty comeback was evidence of that. "Hey, what's going on with you?"

"What makes you think there's something going on?"

"Well for starters you came in here without so much as a protest."

"You make it sound like I think Quidditch is some kind of dreadful sport," she said shortly, not sure why she was being snippy towards him. Ron hadn't done anything.

"Hermione, what's really going on?"

"Nothing," she said unconvincingly. "I just have a lot of schoolwork I need to get to and the sooner we're done here the sooner I can get going on it."

"Fine, whatever," he said annoyed, letting his hands drop to his sides. "Harry's just finishing up and then we can go."

"I'll be waiting outside."

Ron didn't even bother with a response as she left him standing there.

She welcomed the cold breeze that hit her face when she stepped outside. She knew how frustrated he probably was by her attitude, and she really wished she hadn't acted like that. He was just being concerned and she had basically snapped his head off for it. She wasn't even sure why she was acting this way. Well, that wasn't entirely true. Her conversation with Harry the previous night had left her more rattled then she cared to admit. While she had been the one to encourage him to talk about it, she had not been expecting for him to tell her what he had. She still couldn't wrap her head around the fact that someone like Cho Chang was worried she was going to steal Harry away from her. It was absurd. She certainly didn't feel that way about him. Her feelings for Harry were strong, but they were nothing like what she felt for Ron. She had never suspected Harry had anything less than platonic feelings for her. However, she wasn't totally blind, and had not missed the way he had been looking at her all week – like he was seeing that she was a girl for the first time.

It was then the door to the shop swung open and Harry stepped out, his newly purchased broom and a small rectangular box under one arm, but he was alone. He saw her standing there, and unsure of what to do, stayed where he was.

"So you got the one you wanted?" She said asked him

"Yeah," he replied. "I think Ron and I are going to try the modifications I bought for it after dinner."

She didn't even bother asking what he meant by 'modifications.' "Where is Ron?"

"He's drooling over this new Quidditch strategy game they just put out."

She nodded to show she had heard him, and turned her gaze to watch the students and other witches and wizards walking through the streets.

"You're angry with me," Harry said suddenly.

She still wouldn't look at him. "No, I'm not."

"Well then you're not happy with me. I can tell that much."

"It's not that, Harry," she said truthfully. "I saw Cho walk in earlier," she said, abruptly changing the subject.

He kicked at a loose rock on the ground. "I saw her too. She was with Michael."

"You should really try and patch things up with her."

His expression became puzzled. She had never wanted him to get involved with her in the first place and now, here she was encouraging him to make up with her. "I don't think that's going to happen," he told her.

"You're not still thinking about what she said, are you, Harry?"

He shoved his hands in jacket pocket, but didn't reply. She realized it was going to be up to her to put a stop to this once and for all.

"Harry, you don't – " She cut herself off when a group of third years came bursting out of the shop door beside them. She grabbed his jacket and dragged him down the empty alley at the side of the shop. "You don't fancy me Harry. You can't."

"Why not?" He mentally slapped himself. Way to go, Potter. You're just making this way more uncomfortable and awkward then it already is.

She appeared genuinely startled by his question. "Because it can't – because we're friends. Best friends, but that's all."

He was keeping his expression so carefully guarded she couldn't read him at all. She wondered if now would be a good time to tell him about her and Ron. She knew she should probably wait for Ron so they could tell him together, but he needed to understand why they could never be more than friends. "Harry, Ron and I – "

Before she could get any further Harry's lips were on hers. Her brain started screaming at her that this was Harry – that this was Harry she was letting kiss her! She pushed him away, not believing what she had allowed to happen – what she should have seen coming and stopped before it happened.

Whistling and catcalls from the entrance way to the alley made her spin around. She felt her stomach plunge when she saw the source of it to be Malfoy, along with Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy Parkinson.

"Just when I was starting to think you had taste, Potter, I see you've slipped to an ultimate low," Malfoy leered. "How desperate are you?"

"Shove off, Malfoy, I'm warning you," said Harry dangerously.

Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle all snickered.

"I really don't think you want to threaten me," Malfoy said, completely un-phased. "I'll have you and that pathetic filth," he started, glaring loathingly at Hermione, "begging for your lives faster than you can say 'mudblood.'"

"The only pathetic person here is you, Malfoy," Hermione said coldly. "You're a sad and disgusting excuse for a human being who's going to get what's coming to him."

"You're right. I think I'm going to get sick from watching the two of you snog like that," he said, a repulsive look on his face. He turned to his friends, saying, "I don't care what Potter says. He has to be desperate if he's fucking that."

Harry's wand was out and in his hand in an instant. He didn't care that he could get expelled for what he wanted to do to Malfoy. As fast as he was, someone else was faster. Malfoy was tackled to the ground by a person with flaming red hair.

"You fucking bastard!" Ron yelled, pummeling the Slytherin with his fist. He had gotten in three good swings before Crabbe and Goyle finally came out of their stunned state and pulled him off. Despite their size, Ron shoved them away from him. With Malfoy laying in a moaning heap on the floor and unable to give them any orders, they backed off.

Ron stayed around long enough to glance at his two best friends before storming off in a rage. Hermione and Harry took off after him.

"Ron!" Hermione yelled after him.

She caught up with him and grabbed a hold of his arm to make him stop. He shoved her roughly making her fall back into Harry.

"What Malfoy said – "

"I don't need you to repeat what that bastard said!" He shouted, spinning around to face her.

"Ron, it's not true!" she said desperately.

"Any of it?" He glanced at Harry and then back to her. Their guilty looks was all the confirmation he needed.

"It was a mistake," she pleaded. Her head was spinning at how quickly everything had gotten so horribly out of hand.

"A mistake?" He raged. "A mistake is forgetting to your homework or someone's birthday, not snogging your best friend in broad daylight for the whole fucking village to see!"

"Ron, Hermione's telling you the truth," said Harry, finally stepping in. "It was an accident. It just happened."

Ron turned eyes insane with rage on Harry. "Stay the fuck away from me," he growled. "Both of you," he added, turning his fury back on Hermione.

He turned his back on them and charged off, his feet pounding loudly with each step against the stone cobbled road.

Harry's mind was whirling. He had expected Ron to go off the handle on Malfoy like that, but not to them. He was missing something. Seeing the anguish and betrayal in Ron's eyes and the tears now falling down Hermione's face, he knew he was missing a lot.