A/N: Well, I didn't get many reviews for the last chapter, and that was pretty upsetting, but I think it wasn't a very interesting one (trust me, the reason it was in there was for character development…argh, writing is complicated). This one, however, I am very proud of, and I hope I'll get more reviews for it. I really don't want to get discouraged and leave this story behind like I did with Confessions of Two Hearts. Anyway, I hope you like this chapter as much as I do! It is Ron's birthday today (yes, I'm that much of a nerd, w00t) and maybe you guys could take this update as an extra treat. Maybe. Just read and review! Oh, and about 3 months left till Prisoner of Azkaban! ^_^
Disclaimer: After years of relentless work, I am no closer to owning the franchise…it is still in the hands of the brilliant JK Rowling.
~*NSH*~
Chapter 5: Talking It OutOver the course of the next four days, Lennie spent a fair amount of time at the Grangers' house. Harry had taken a great liking to her personality after their outing to the mall. She rather reminded him of Ron, in more aspects than one. And Ron, apparently, was enjoying the time they were spending with her. Harry would have expected him to have trouble with two girls who so very obviously sparked his interest, but Ron was handling it well.
Harry wasn't sure what to think of Ron's idea of Lennie. He was sure it must be different than the one he had, that of a fun-loving girl who was overjoyed to see her childhood friend. But he didn't think it could be quite anything like Ron's idea of Hermione. Harry had been aware of Ron and Hermione's relationships—the friendly one and the one that was bubbling just beneath the surface, the one his redheaded friend was too thick to notice. He'd never been one to be all for it. No, there were times when he told himself he was imagining things, that Ron and Hermione could never think about being more than friends. He knew this happened because he didn't like the idea of being a third wheel, shoved off to the side. It had happened the summer before their fifth year and his anger had been astounding. He hated that they were spending time together—and enjoying each other's company—without him, mostly because he felt alone enough as it was. And the way he had treated them because of this had been regrettable…most of the time, anyway. So he really didn't know how he would ever be able to handle a relationship that exceeded one of comfortable friends.
But he knew it was there, even when he told himself it wasn't. Hell, the whole world had known for the longest time, except for Ron himself, of course. To him, it had been clear since their fourth year, as it had for most everyone that suspected it. Others claimed to have seen it as early as third year (Ginny said it had been obvious, the way they both had been so melancholy during their fight) and even second year (this was Fred and George, Love Doctors themselves). Harry wasn't sure when Ron had finally caught on, but he knew that Ron had wised up by now. And honestly, Harry couldn't see anything more logical.
Before fourth year, he had the distinct impression that everyone expected him—the "hero"—to be with Hermione—the "heroine." This never really seemed like much of a good reason to expect two friends to be more than friends. He'd always thought it was kind of a stupid idea, really. He'd been angered by the fact that everyone had overlooked Ron, like he wasn't part of their team. So everyone had always thought that Potter and Granger were bound to end up together. But after the colossal argument after the Yule Ball, people were eyeing Ron and Hermione differently. And Harry had found it sort of amusing, at times, because they were both so painfully obvious. There'd been plenty of times when a sideways glance at Ron in History of Magic told him that the youngest Weasley boy was staring at his own female best friend as she energetically wrote down notes on goblin rebellions and giant wars. Hermione was more composed, but she had her cases. Whenever Ron shot her a hidden compliment, she wouldn't keep the grin off her face. So that had been funny, watching them deny anything was there and then showing it so clearly for the whole world to see. Harry even believed that they suited each other well; they balanced each other out and obviously had no problem spending time together.
He had been slightly taken aback when he saw Ron so enthusiastic with Lennie. He'd noticed instances when Hermione would look stung for a few seconds, a small scowl taking shape on her face, but then she's shake her head and grin and return to the conversation as if nothing had happened. But he knew she must be confused; progress with Ron had been happening—rather slowly, true, but it was there nonetheless. And now she must feel like she was losing her grip on things. Harry expected Hermione to feel somewhat flustered; she always had things under control.
He hadn't really expected to see Ron troubled. But apparently, he hadn't been the only one noticing Hermione's quick moments of discomfort. On the sixth day of their stay, Hermione had left early in the morning with Lennie. Ron had been curious to know what they were up to, but Lennie flashed him a smile, waved her hand, and said, "We are girls, you know. We need our own girl time." Hermione would be spending the night at Lennie's house and then returning to spend a full day with the boys.
The two boys spent the day watching television (Ron couldn't get enough of it—every few minutes he'd shake his head and mutter, "Wicked…") and eating the junk food Hermione had provided with disapproval. It was a nice relief from all the work they'd been doing in school, especially for Ron, who was up to his eyeballs with homework, the DA, Quidditch, and prefect duties. He was learning to juggle it better (maybe because his Quidditch skills were more honed than the previous year), but Harry knew he appreciated the break.
At one point in their lazy afternoon, Ron brought up a most curious conversation. Harry almost laughed when he asked the initial question, but decided not to because it might hurt his friend's ego.
They had been sitting in front of the telly, flipping through channels. For a few minutes, Ron had been shifting around on the couch, opening his mouth and then deciding to close it. Harry chose to let him come out with it instead of asking him about it. He finally did. "Harry, mate…what's kissing like?"
Harry stopped flipping channels and stared blankly at the bright television screen, watching some children's cartoon prance around singing about cleaning and friendship and whatnot. He wasn't sure what to say as an answer to such a question. So he plainly said, "Er…" and tried to think.
Ron sniggered. "I know your experience with Cho was…wet"—he laughed again—"but, you know, it must have been more than that. Right?"
Harry smirked. Trust Ron to find a funny side to the matter. "Er, well…I dunno. I wasn't really thinking about much when she did it, except how humiliating it was that she was just standing there crying and—and trying to—you know—and I didn't say anything, just kind of stood there like an idiot."
Ron looked puzzled.
Harry shook his head. "It's not like I had time to think anyway, 'cause one moment she was just standing in front of me, crying and talking about Cedric, and the next thing I know…"
"What?"
"You know, you're not very imaginative, are you?" Harry said, flushing a bit. He didn't really want to give Ron details. Ron shook his head, apparently waiting for Harry to explain. "Well…it was more like I was touching her mouth with mine."
Ron snorted.
"What?" Harry said indignantly, mentally cursing himself for his choice of words.
Ron waved a hand and said, "Never mind. So, what, kissing is rubbish?"
Harry felt his cheeks redden some more. "Uh…with Cho it was. But it's not all that bad…" He let his voice trail off. He really did not want to have this conversation, especially since he was referring to "good kiss" with Ron's own sister.
But Ron didn't understand. "Wait, wait, wait. First you said it's just—not very exciting? And then you said it's okay. So—what?"
Poor boy. He was utterly perplexed. Harry ran a hand through his messy hair and said, "Um, well, I guess if you really like the person, then it's better, and if they're not crying and all."
"But you liked Cho."
Good point. "Er...well, maybe I didn't like her quite as much as I thought. Or maybe there just wasn't any…spark."
"Spark?"
"For the love of Merlin, Ron! Spark! You and Hermione have spark! That's spark! Don't act oblivious." Harry said this all very quickly and as soon as he did, he avoided looking at Ron, although he was very sure he must resemble a stunned goldfish.
"Me and Hermione…?"
Harry shot Ron a Look, then rolled his eyes. "Whatever. The point is, it's nice if nobody is blubbering and if you decide that, yes, it's a kiss, not that she's trying to get as close to you as possible."
Ron looked as if he wanted to pursue the subject of him and Hermione a bit more. But then he said, "Oh." And he held his chin with his hands and sat, deep in thought, for a few moments. Harry gave him one last look and settled back, changing channels again.
When Ron spoke, his voice sounded choked. "Er…you probably didn't want to talk about kissing Gin with me, huh?"
Harry looked around at him. Ron looked slightly nauseous. Then Harry laughed. He said, "It's all right." Ron looked relieved.
"So…basically, kissing doesn't seem as wet if you really really fancy someone?" Ron asked tentatively, and he looked like he was holding his breath waiting for the answer.
Harry chuckled. "That's right. It doesn't really feel very wet at all."
~*~
Maybe it was the talk with Ron, but Harry had been struck with a longing to see Ginny. He'd only been away from her for a few days, but he already missed her radiant and enjoyable company. Luckily, the Grangers' fireplace was connected to the Weasleys' (Mr. Weasley, naturally, had pulled some strings), and Harry deeply appreciated this. He had feared that he would have to be escorted by a group of members of the Order again. But maybe now that the prophecy was gone, it didn't matter quite as much.
Whatever it may be, Harry made his way to the Burrow that night. Ron had seemed somewhat disappointed that he was choosing to leave him alone (and he was somewhat apprehensive of Hermione's father, for a reason he never wished to discuss—although, of course, it was rather obvious) but when Harry had mentioned the prospect of having the telly and candy to himself, he chose not to object. Harry decided to only go for a short while, because he didn't want to seem rude and it had been previously decided that they would spend Christmas Day at the Burrow. So it was that night, shortly after dinner, that Mrs. Weasley gave a cry of glee when she saw Harry fly out of her fireplace, covered in soot.
"Oh, Harry, dear, what a wonderful surprise!" she said, as she wrapped her arms around him and gave him her famous bone-crushing hug. Harry grinned despite the fact that he could hardly breathe in Mrs. Weasley's embrace. When she pulled away, he was glad to see that the color had returned to her face and she seemed to be eating well; he had hated seeing her condition during the summer, first with Mr. Weasley being fired, and then with Bill's death.
Harry nodded. "I wanted to stop by to say hi. I won't be staying too long."
"Well, you can still have a bite to eat, come on." Mrs. Weasley beamed.
"Er…sorry, Mrs. Weasley, I just ate and—"
"Harry!"
His sentence was interrupted by the content greeting issuing from Ginny, who was a blur flying down the stairs and straight into Harry's arms. His grin widened as he wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face in her hair. He could detect a hint of her lavender-scented shampoo, and immediately knew exactly why he had decided to come.
Mrs. Weasley seemed to be restraining herself from cooing at them. Ginny must have sensed it because she grabbed Harry's hand, said, "We'll be upstairs, Mum," and tugged Harry away towards the stairs.
On the stairs, Harry climbed at her side and said, "Upstairs, eh?"
Ginny glanced at him, her eyes shining, and replied, "Oh, yeah."
Pushing the door to her room open, they both stepped inside. The window immediately caught Harry's eye. It was beautiful; the sill was covered in icicles and the glass fogged up and obscured with flecks of snow.
Ginny noticed him looking out the window to the dark, star strewn sky. Snow could be seen lightly falling. She walked over and looked out herself. "It's been snowing like mad around here. It's nice, though. And at least in here it's warm." She smiled.
"Yeah. There's no snow falling in London, at the Grangers.' It is nice. Sort of…romantic, isn't it?" Harry said, shifting his view from the window to the girl standing in front of him. Her smile had taken a mischievous glint not unlike Fred and George's. She leaned close to him and said, "Very," her breath warm against his face. He suddenly realized how very cold everything around him was, except Ginny, and so he pulled her even closer. Ginny closed the distance between them and Harry soon forgot about the window and snow and everything else.
How could anyone explain this? It was bliss…it was wonderful, just wonderful, and so much more…
He let Ginny deepen the kiss with no objections; he loved the way that she would just ease into it, allow him to revel in how marvelous it was to have her lips against his, and just when he was growing used to it, she would change it and the process would start all over again. He traced tiny circles along her back with his fingers as they kissed; he'd let his hands become embedded in her hair; he moved his hands to her face and cupped her chin, immediately deepening the kiss some more. With the tips of his fingers, he felt a vibration in her throat, a small sound of satisfaction that made him adore her even more.
No, it couldn't be explained.
After a while, Ginny pulled away and said, "I already miss you."
Harry grinned and released her, backing up to sit on the bed and look around. "What have you been doing?"
Ginny groaned. "Cleaning. I think it's Mum's hobby. She certainly does it when she's bored and even when she's not. So ever since I got home, she's been sending me around cleaning the house. Of course, it's already pretty clean anyway, but still. I have to degnome the garden every two days. I skipped it today 'cause my shoulders already ache." She sat next to him and flashed him a smile when he started rubbing the spot she'd indicated on her shoulder. She gazed at him affectionately for a few seconds before continuing. "Mum's a nutter sometimes. She even made me clean Ron's room the other day. Merlin's beard; Ron could grow an entire swamp under his bed before he decided that it ought to be cleaned. I think it was frog spawn left over from some summer or maybe it was his dead Puffskein…whatever it was, it was disgusting. Of course, there was a plus to cleaning his room…"
"What?" asked Harry, curious, although from the way Ginny was grinning malevolently he had an inkling it was about Hermione.
She sniggered. "Well, he keeps that stupid planner under his pillow. You know, the one Hermione gave him for Christmas. Yeah, it's stuffed under there and he's obviously looked at it every waking moment of his life because already the spine is wearing out. If Ron ever had a Hogwarts, A History, it's that thing."
Harry laughed. He decided to ask her opinion on his best friends. "Well, what do you think? About Ron and Hermione, I mean? Anything changed lately?"
Ginny gave him an are-you-blind look. "It's painfully obvious that the two are madly in love with each other. I already told you that I think they have been ever since your second year. Lately…well, Ron finally decided to think last year. Now that they both know that they like the other, maybe they'll decide to actually tell each other. But I'm starting to think that Ron's greatest fear isn't spiders anymore."
"Aww, you should give him some credit, Gin!" Harry said; he laughed nonetheless.
"Well, it's true. Sometimes I don't understand why he was put in Gryffindor. He can barely handle her grinning at him without his ears turning into lobsters; I can imagine him going mad with nervousness by just telling her he fancies her. Think of when he actually starts kissing her, how it'll be."
Harry made a face. "Okay, some of us would prefer to keep our dinners tucked safely in our stomachs. That image isn't the greatest one."
"Harry!" Ginny said, slapping his hands of her shoulders. "Come on, they'll look pretty adorable together!"
"I don't think I would use the word 'adorable,' exactly," Harry said, sniggering. "Besides, I doubt it'll happen any time soon."
Ginny looked confused and maybe even concerned. "What do you mean?"
Harry shrugged. "Well, there's this girl we met over there. She was Hermione's friend in Muggle school. She's great; she has a lot of things in common with Ron. And he's sort of been…neglecting Hermione, I guess, 'cause he's taken an interest in Lennie."
Ginny rolled her eyes. "Ron knows how to get himself into a lot of shit. Well, he better wise up soon or I'll have to knock some sense into him!" She was quiet for a moment and then said, "This girl…you don't like her, do you?"
Harry pretended to be seriously considering this. "Well…what do you think?"
She didn't answer; she just leaned in and kissed him again, long and hard. She was just starting to lie down, bringing him with her, when they heard Mrs. Weasley's voice ringing up through the staircase.
"Ginny! Visitor!"
The Weasley girl broke away from Harry and dropped her head down onto her bed. Harry, leaning over her, gave her a questioning look. Ginny muttered, "Not now!"
"Huh?"
Ginny sighed and gently pushed Harry away. "Come on, her visits aren't usually quick. I don't mind her, really, it's just…now…"
Harry furrowed his eyebrows. It sounded like she was talking about—
"Luna!" Ginny said, feigning delight when she saw the blonde girl standing near the door chatting spiritedly with Mrs. Weasley. "Hi!"
"Hello. Oh, hello, Harry," Luna greeted, glancing over at Harry who was standing behind Ginny. He noticed she was carrying a rather large pie in her hands, which Mrs. Weasley took just seconds later.
"Thank you, dear, it's smells wonderful," Mrs. Weasley said, giving Luna a grateful smile.
Luna returned it. "Not a trouble at all, Molly." She looked at Ginny and Harry and said, "Father makes the most delicious Billiwig pies." When Ginny and Harry exchanged nervous glances, she said, "Oh, it's not as bad as it sounds. It's quite tasty, actually; very sweet. And the effects are wholly fun."
"Effects?" asked Harry, although he couldn't help but smile at Luna's newest fixation.
Luna nodded her head vigorously. "It makes those who eat it giddy. Great fun, especially to those who don't know it does that." Having said this, she glided past the two and sank dreamily into the chair next to the fireplace.
Harry could tell Ginny was upset by her visit; she was interrupting their time alone. But he didn't regard Luna with the same air everyone else seemed to reserve for her; on the contrary, sometimes he found himself wishing that he could be more like her, in the sense that she really didn't care what anyone said or thought about her. So, in ways, he respected her. He gave Ginny a kiss on the cheek (Luna was looking at them vaguely, as if just looking at them to have something to look at) and Ginny reluctantly followed him to sit on the couch in front of Luna's chair.
"So," Harry said, glancing between a somewhat disgruntled looking Ginny to a silent Luna. He wished he had come another day.
"You're staying with Muggles for the holidays, aren't you, Harry?" Luna said, and he couldn't tell whether she was interested or opting for conversation.
"Er…yeah. Hermione's parents," he answered.
"Are they as skeptical of magic as she is of the Crumple-Horned Snorkack?" she asked, although there was a hint of a smile on her face and no sign of resentment in her voice.
Harry gave a weak laugh. "No, actually, they—they understand magic and all…they're very supportive of Hermione." He glanced at Ginny out of the corner of his eye; she was tracing patterns on the arm of the couch and seemed uninterested in the conversation.
Luna nodded dimly and took her eyes off him. She looked distractedly around the room, her eyes as wide as ever. Ginny heaved a great sigh but Luna didn't seem to notice it.
The awkward silence was disturbed by Mrs. Weasley stomping into the room. "Virginia Weasley!" Ginny whipped around when she heard her mother call her name. She didn't sound happy.
Ginny gave Harry a quick glance and said, "Yes, Mum?"
"Did you
simply forget to degnome the garden? Or was it that there was too much dirt
accumulated in your ears that prevented you from hearing me ask you to do it?!"
Mrs. Weasley asked, staring down at Ginny with her hands on her hips.
"Mum…can't I just do that
tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow there will be more gnomes! Besides, you have things to do tomorrow. I want you to go out there and get that garden clean. Those tricky little blighters, they've already started stealing my potatoes…Go!" Mrs. Weasley said; she turned on her heel and stormed into the kitchen, tying her apron furiously behind her back as she went.
Ginny scowled. "I'll be right back," she muttered, and with that pushed herself up off the couch and stomped out to the garden, slamming the door behind her.
Luna was smiling faintly. "She reminds me of Ronald. Actually, they both do."
Harry gave her a small smile but didn't say anything.
Neither of them did for a while. Harry tried staring at his hands to pass the time; when it didn't work, he tried watching the fire crackling merrily among the wood. But he was painfully aware of the loud ticking of the small Muggle clock on the wall. The sound seemed much too loud and pronounced the silence that was present.
When Luna spoke, Harry jumped slightly, startled. "Sad, isn't it?" she said in a small voice, studying her right hand.
Harry looked up. "What is?"
She kept looking at her hand for a moment but finally looked up at him. Then she stood up, walked briskly over to the couch, and plopped herself down beside him. "It's sad that there's a war coming."
The silence rang even louder than before. Harry wasn't quite sure what to say.
Luna held her right hand out in front of her, and Harry noticed a red and gold band around her ring finger. He gave her a questioning look and she answered. "It's a ring. I made it myself. I bought a phoenix feather in the apothecary in Diagon Alley and made it. It signifies my place in the Order, which I've yet to assume." The faint smile appeared on her face again.
"You know about the Order?"
Luna nodded. "Dumbledore told me in June. He said I'd helped enough to deserve to know." She looked at the phoenix feather ring and said, "I want to help some more." She looked over at Harry, "You know, Ginny told me that her brother died. I suppose you knew. I hadn't found out; I don't read the Prophet much."
Harry nodded. "Death Eater attack…"
"Yes. Dreadful…but there's more to come." She looked away. "There's no real way to stop them, is there? It's just, defend yourself when it happens."
"I guess so." Harry thought for a moment and then added, "Thank you."
Luna raised her eyebrows. "For what?"
Harry shrugged mildly. "We needed everyone we had that night. You were willing to help even if it meant getting hurt."
Luna looked at him for a few minutes after he said that. It wasn't exactly as uncomfortable as it would have seemed; it wasn't like she was just staring at him, but like she was trying to read any meaning behind those words. Harry hadn't really purposefully put in any meaning, but there was definitely one thought behind the statement: Sirius.
"Do you feel any better about him—your godfather?"
Her question hit Harry by surprise. He couldn't understand how she had known that he had had Sirius in mind. He was also surprised that she had been bold enough to bring him up; no one really had since the summer.
He looked at her. For some reason, he suddenly noticed that her eyes weren't gray, like he had thought, but the most peculiar shade of blue. "I don't know," he said truthfully. "I miss him. He was basically my father." And he had no trouble saying this to her, she being a bit of a stranger! But there was something about the way Luna had asked the question that told him she understood without much explanation. "Well…sometimes I think about that day. I didn't stop to think; I just wanted him to be safe. I had a mirror, a two way mirror, that he had given me for Christmas. He wanted to use it so we could communicate. I never opened it, until after…if I had used that mirror, I would have known he was fine, still at home. But I let my mind get away with me. And this damn scar…" He snatched at his forehead, wishing he could just wipe the scar off, pick it off its place on his forehead.
Luna was looking at her hands. He couldn't read the expression on her face, but she didn't look quite as faraway as usual. Her long hair fell in waves around her shoulders as she sat and took in all that Harry had said. All of a sudden, she looked up and said, "You wish you were someone else." It was like she was asking a question but at the same time, she said it resolutely. Harry nodded.
And then she did something no one had ever done before.
She lifted her hand from where it sat on her lap, the hand adorned with her phoenix feather ring, and brought her fingers gently to the scar on Harry's forehead. She didn't ask him if she could, she didn't ask if he would mind. She just did. It was such a simple gesture, harmless and delicate. But it was something that no one had ever dared do, and Harry wasn't entirely sure why. And as she held her hand lightly on the accursed scar, she said, "Don't."
Harry almost didn't understand, completely having forgotten what she had said before she touched his scar. But when he did manage to remember, and he connected it with her last statement, he felt fascination by Luna's sincerity. And it was a moment he remembered for as long as he lived.
Then Luna lowered her hand and the world kept turning and normality settled once more. Her eyes were once again a hazy gray and silence descended all over again. And the scar remained upon his forehead, and he was still the person he was minutes before, seconds before.
Ginny disturbed the silence (not an awkward one, but more of a pensive one) when she returned to the living room, her hands dirty and snowflakes embedded in her vibrant hair. She looked at the pair sitting on the couch, both thoughtful and hushed.
"Everything all right?" she asked, her eyes lingering on Harry.
Luna smiled her dreamy smile. "Always is," she answered.
Harry knew Ginny was still watching him, because he was so still. He suddenly thought that it could be quite late, and when he glanced at the clock, he saw it was almost nine o'clock.
"Gin, I should go," he said, standing and walking over to where she stood.
"What? But you just got here!"
"No, I've been here almost two hours, and I told Hermione's mum I'd only be away for a bit." He took her hands. "Sorry, Gin, but I'll make it up to you when I come on Christmas Day."
Ginny nodded but she still looked disappointed. "All right. If those two idiots make any improvements, you'll let me know, right?"
"Wouldn't think a second before telling you."
Ginny gave him a small smile and kissed him lightly on the lips. "Then I'll see you then."
Harry nodded. "Say 'bye to your mum for me." Ginny nodded and let go of his hands. Harry turned to Luna, who was staring absentmindedly around the room again. He knew she felt his gaze on her, because she turned her eyes toward him. "I'll see you soon, Luna," he said.
She smiled softly. "Good-bye, Harry."
And he turned away into the fireplace. He took a handful of Floo Powder from the flowerpot on the mantelpiece, threw it into the fire, and waited for the flames to turn green. He watched them for a moment, a vivid green that mirrored his eyes. Then he turned and gave one last look at the two girls standing behind him; one, with a loving look in her eyes and snow in her hair, the other, as distant as ever with inexplicable wisdom in her gray-blue eyes. And he realized how many people he'd met and how each had affected his life, and couldn't for the life of him decide which of the two watching him had influenced him the most.
It didn't matter; he appreciated them both.
And then he turned to the green flames and said, "Hermione's house!" and he was gone.
~*~
"You know, they say practice makes perfect, but I don't think it applies to this game," Hermione said vaguely, prying her knight towards Harry's bishop.
Harry chuckled. It was the morning after his visit to the Burrow, and he and Hermione had decided on a game of chess while Ron showered, since it usually turned out to be quite a lengthy event. Hermione had promised the boys to spend the entire day with them on account of her absence because of Lennie. Harry had awoken quite early, his mind still on the events of the previous night. Hermione woke up a few hours later, and Ron even later than her.
So now Ron had just stumbled his way into the shower (Harry had to commend him for doing so; his eyes were barely open) and it would be a long wait until he came out.
"I doubt it's that, Hermione. You're just dreadful at this game, that's all," Harry explained, putting her knight in danger with the bishop.
Hermione made a frustrated noise. "This stupid knight won't work with me!"
Harry grinned. The black knight was giving Hermione a hurt glare, and she was glaring right back. The little knight grudgingly pointed at the castle that would prove to be its savior from Harry's bishop, and Hermione gave him a grateful look before moving the castle in front of the knight. She gave Harry a smug look.
He decided to leave that angle of the game alone for a bit; she'd forget about it sooner or later and give up her knight, willingly or not. The game proceeded with silent concentration, Hermione holding her chin with both hands, eyes darting around the chessboard, trying desperately to win for once.
Naturally, it was obvious when she suddenly lost her concentration. She had apparently glanced at her knight, threatened by Harry's bishop, and she put her hands in her lap and looked away for a moment, out the door of her room. Harry had been about to ask if everything was all right when she spoke.
"Do you…this is a bit prying to ask, but—do you love Ginny?"
Harry raised his eyebrows. Her question was about as difficult to answer as Ron's question about kissing. Trying to think, he said, "Er…what do you mean?"
She looked at him and said slowly, "You had a crush on Cho, and that ended fairly fast. But you and Ginny are still really close…so, do you love her?"
Harry was under the impression that his mouth was hanging slightly open. It wasn't very typical to have a conversation like this with Hermione; actually, it wasn't typical at all. Hermione usually stuck to facts and school, to the Wizarding world and the people in it. But it didn't go as far as emotions; Hermione wasn't one to customarily display vulnerability. Harry wasn't sure how to answer, so he decided to go with a simple, honest answer. "Well, I love a lot of people."
Hermione was looking at the floor, her index finger in her mouth. She was chewing on her nail absentmindedly, something Harry had never seen her do. She was obviously thinking of something on a much deeper level, and he was slowly catching on to what it was. When she didn't say anything, he said softly, "It's…complicated. I love…the Weasleys, and—and you and Ron. And I loved Sirius." He was suddenly glad he was talking to Hermione about this and not Ron; it would have been awkward to admit he loved both of them. Hermione would understand, he knew she would. He waited for her to respond and she still didn't. So he added, "It's a love like how you love your parents, you know?"
She nodded slowly. Then she shook her head. "I understand what you're saying but…well, you know what I mean!" She looked at him in exasperation and he was somewhat startled.
"Oh."
"Harry!"
"Er…I'm not sure, to tell you the truth." And he was being honest. "How am I supposed to know? I've only ever really had a relationship with two girls, and one of those was a disaster!"
Hermione looked a little guilty. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry." Then she went back to cradling her chin in her hands and staring intently at the chessboard. Harry gave her a nervous glance and then picked up the game where they had left off.
But they hadn't been playing for long when she said, "How do you feel when you're around Ginny?"
Harry tried his best not to roll his eyes. "Hermione, would you mind telling me why you're asking all these questions?"
Hermione watched him for a second, then averted her eyes to the chessboard and said, "Just…for knowing."
He couldn't help but laugh. It was very ironic for her to say that. "You never research things 'just for knowing;' come on, I've been your friend for five years now. When you want to find out something, you apply it to whatever you're studying. What's the subject of this research?" He couldn't keep the hint of amusement out of his voice.
All that he achieved was a glare from Hermione. "Look," she said, and it sounded like she was trying—and failing—to cover something up, "I'm curious, and that's the only reason I want to know this."
"Or maybe it has something to do with something…or someone…"
This earned him a sharp kick in the shins from her. "I don't know what you're saying."
"Then why'd you kick me?"
He thought she would hit him again. But she didn't. She laughed. Then she shook her head and said, "Of course…how I couldn't have expected…she was bound to tell…"
"Hermione." She stopped muttering to herself when he said her name. He smiled and said, "I don't think Ron made it clear enough last year. When you do that muttering thing, we have NO idea what you're saying."
"Okay," she said. Then she chewed her nail for a bit, apparently thinking of what to say. When she came up with a suitable explanation for her muttering, she said, "I shouldn't be surprised that you're making insinuations. You spent too much time with Ginny, I knew she'd tell you sometime, I just—didn't really expect it, you see?"
"What?"
She shook her head. "She told you about…it. Didn't she?"
"About Ron?"
"HARRY!"
"What?"
"You know he's in the other room," she muttered, glancing around in a slight panic.
Harry laughed. "And you say he's thick…well, he is, but sometimes you're pretty stupid yourself."
"Excuse me?"
"I didn't have to have Ginny tell me that you like him. Everybody knows."
Hermione blinked rather blankly. It was apparently a great surprise to find out that the entire school was placing bets on how soon she and Ron would "get together." She furrowed her eyebrows and said, "Do you mean to say…Ginny told everyone?!"
"God, no!" Harry said, and laughed again. "It's just that everyone can tell."
"Oh."
He grinned. "So this is about him." He waited for her to nod; when she reluctantly did, he plunged on. "When I'm around Ginny, I stop thinking about what to do and what not to do so I'll look good for her. I'll just do whatever comes. Around her, I can say anything and I know she won't tease me or make fun of me or anything. I can talk to her about a lot of things. It's just a different feeling."
Hermione drank this in while still staring at the chess pieces. Harry assumed they reminded her of Ron.
"Hermione?"
"Hmm?"
"You should talk to him about it."
She gave a shaky laugh. "Are you mad? And besides, it's a silly thing, not really very important."
"No, not at all, since you're trying to figure out if you're in love with him or not, right?"
"That's not what I'm trying to do."
"All right, then, fine. I still think you should talk to him."
"We'll see."
And they were silent again. Hermione sat thoughtfully, moving her chess pieces aimlessly and letting Harry take them whenever he had the chance. The game was becoming pretty one sided, Harry having most of the black pieces lined up next to each other, all of them grunting and shooting dirty looks at Hermione. It was apparent she wasn't trying anymore, being deep in thought. Still, she never let her guard down on the knight and defended him well with the castle.
"You know, if you used the technique you're using with the knight and the castle in the whole game, I reckon you would be better," Harry said, laughing a little.
Hermione grinned. "Thanks."
And from the way she said it, he knew she was thanking him for more than the chess advice.
Harry returned the grin. Then he looked down at the chessboard; he moved the bishop threatening Hermione's knight. She was surprised, but took him with the king nonetheless. Harry glanced at her knight and castle, still sitting side by side on the chessboard. Chuckling, he said, "I think I don't want to finish this game."
"Why?"
Harry thought for a moment. "Because it's more interesting this way." He grinned. Hermione laughed.
And then everything went dark, his scar in unbearable pain, and he dropped to the floor, distinctly hearing Hermione scream.
~*~
A/n: PLEASE REVIEW!!!