Chapter Twelve – Someone Brand New

The next day, Harry couldn't help but take Ron's idea into consideration. He spent most of his day sitting in his lessons staring blankly ahead of him. Ron on the other hand was back on speaking terms with Hermione, but she still chose to ignore Harry and pretend he never existed. Harry sighed for probably the tenth time of the day. Ron glanced at him before going back to his work.

After lessons and a rather small dinner, since he had no appetite, Harry walked up to the common room. He still couldn't stop thinking of Ron's idea. He was so wrapped up about thinking of the idea he didn't notice that she was sitting there reading a rather thick book. At the sight of her Harry felt his spirits sink even lower.

He wasn't planning on talking to her at all, but he couldn't stop himself.

"Hermione," he said in a voice that he didn't' seem to recognize. She looked up from her book. For a moment she looked like she was about to smile but ended up frowning.

"Oh," she seemed disappointed, "It's only you."

His knees trembling, he walked over to where she was seated and took a seat. He was afraid she'd throw her thick book at him.

"Well," she said. "What do you want?"

Harry took a deep breath. "I was wondering… If maybe you and I…" he trailed off. Another person was there in the common room. A rather handsome young man with wavy blonde hair and alluring brown eyes. Harry's eyes widened as this boy put a hand on Hermione's shoulder.

If possible, Harry felt even more crushed than he already was. He was sad and angry all at once. Who was this boy? Why was he touching Hermione? Hermione, seeing the look of utter disbelief on his face, rolled her eyes.

"Harry this is Nathan," she smiled up at the blonde boy, "he and I are… Kind of together now."

Harry felt as if a hundred million heavy loaded trucks had landed on him. He couldn't speak. He couldn't move. He couldn't breathe. He was trying so hard and she was going to cast him aside he was some old Barbie doll that had lost her head. Without saying a word, Harry stood up and headed for the dormitory stairs. Somehow his sadness had evaporated and was replaced with pure anger. Not towards Hermione, but at himself, and the boy who was standing there now in her presence. He had to get her back. He had to. He wasn't going to lose the only girl he loved to some pretty boy. More determined than ever, Harry entered the boy's dormitory and lay in bed only to spend the entire night plotting of a way to win his precious Hermione back.