Disclaimer: EVERYTHING IS MINE… except the original idea, the characters, the past plots, and the copywrited material etc…you know, basically… everything else…

Okay, so finally a more interesting chapter, for anyone who reads this. This story has gotten 150 hits and only seven reviews---C'mon…the review situation is reaching crisis levels for me! Please review…I'll… I'll give you a piece of cake!

Goodie2Shoe

Harry was in the Department of Mysteries in the room with the veil placed in its center. It was where he had last seen Sirius. Now the room was empty except for the echoing murmurs that Harry had heard the night Sirius died.

Suddenly, there was a gust of wind that seemed to originate from within the room itself, blowing the curtain more open, its frayed edge waving eerily in the nonexistent breeze. The whispers intensified, growing louder. Harry thought he heard his name among the whispered words.

He stepped forward, inching closer to the curtain. Another gust of wind blew the curtain towards Harry. Now the frayed edges were inches from his hands. Harry hesitated, the same faded fabric Sirius had disappeared behind, now snapped at his fingers. He could almost feel the thin gauzy fabric…

Harry stepped forward once more…

Harry's eyes fluttered open. He was surprised to see the burgundy bed curtains drawn closed around his bed. He had been dreaming. He heard the door of the boy's dormitory open. Maybe it was Seamus or Dean going to the bathroom. There was the soft shuffle of slippered feet on the floor. Funnily enough, Harry couldn't remember Seamus, Dean, Ron, or even Neville ever wearing their bed slippers.

(In fact, Harry distinctly remembered one of Neville's slippers was lodged behind the radiator in their dormitory ever since third year while the other currently served as a sleeping pouch for his beloved pet toad Trevor.)

The slippered footsteps approached his bed and stopped short. Harry's breathing intensified slightly, he was still half asleep, yet he couldn't help wondering who was on the other side of those curtains. Whoever it was, they seemed to be conflicted as to whether or not they should move forward or retreat.

Harry lay there, for what felt like several minutes, watching the curtains puff in and out ever so slightly from the force of the person's breath. Whoever it was seemed to be standing extremely close to Harry's bed while they decided what to do next.

Apparently the person decided to continue forward, for, several seconds later, a hand abruptly drew his bed curtains aside, throwing a sharp triangle of light onto his face. Through the light of the lantern before him, Harry saw the illuminated form of Hermione Granger's face.

Standing in her dressing gown and slippers Hermione smiled rather shyly at Harry, her brown eyes were transformed into two scintillating crescent moons by the uncharacteristic smile she wore. Her hair was tossed over her shoulder and looked slightly tousled by sleep. It took him a few moments before he realized that he was staring at Hermione with open-mouthed surprise.

"Er...wass' amatter 'Mione?" Harry mumbled thickly.

Hermione continued to smile, "I really needed to talk to you for a little while."

Then, seeing the somewhat incredulous look on Harry's face, she continued,

"It's really important, it couldn't wait until morning."

Harry made room for Hermione to sit on the edge of his bed and she sat down next to his left leg.

"Well… what I wanted to talk to you about was…the important thing is….you see I just couldn't sleep well without…" Hermione stammered.

"I'm so glad we could have this nice chat," Harry said, trying to prompt Hermione into speaking her mind so that he could return to that dream he had just been having. It had something to do with the curtain in the Department of Mysteries…

"Yes, of course, naturally…" Hermione whispered, rather distractedly,

"Okay, I'm just going to say it! The truth is that we have been such good friends for so long and recently…well… so…I haven't been able to stop thinking about y-----------------achhhhhhhhhh…."

Hermione had started up suddenly as though she had just steeled herself for the task when Harry clamped a hand over her mouth, hissing,

"I heard someone behind you. Did anyone see you come up here?"

Hermione shook her head violently to indicate that she was sure that no one knew and added a rather muffled response, each word being pronounced directly into Harry's palm. There had definitely been a noise downstairs in the common room.

Hermione released her mouth from Harry's silencing grip, quickly blew out the candle, and, before Harry could open his mouth in protest, jumped into bed beside him, drawing the bed curtains shut almost all the way. Now there was only a small slit of light coming from the dying embers in the fireplace that illuminated the inside of Harry's bed and its two occupants.

In her rush Hermione had practically landed on top of Harry and he now moved over to give her some room. When she turned to him a strand of hair caught on her lip and her eyes were now much darker than before, slanted in worry, but scintillating with that glow of excitement Harry had come to know.

Now the common room was quiet again, maybe whoever it was had gone to bed already. However, Hermione remained in her current position, just in case.

"What were you saying, Hermione?" Harry asked, his eyes focusing once more on the stray hair still clinging to Hermione's upper lip.

But perhaps finishing her sentence was of little importance after all. From what Harry had heard, or inferred, maybe he knew what she was trying to say. Perhaps he had known all along, since the moment the curtains of his four poster bed were drawn back to reveal Hermione's smiling face and unusually bright eyes…

It was hot with the bed curtains drawn and the bed harboring one more occupant than usual. Hermione blew the stray strand of hair from her face and turned to Harry, looking somewhat flustered.

He knew he had to say something, he was sure that the silence was torturing Hermione, but the words didn't come. He parted his lips slightly, perhaps with the shallow hope that the right words would float out of his mouth out of their volition. But there was still the same hot silence.

Suddenly Hermione seemed so close, so much closer than ever before, and while Harry's parted lips had proved to be a poor invitation for words, they seemed to attract Hermione's own which now grazed them softly.

There may have been another noise, the sound of a book closing downstairs, the owner of the book sliding it into his schoolbag and blowing out the candles, there may have been the creaking of the stairs and the sound of footsteps approaching the dormitory in which the sixth year Gryffindor boys had resided since their very first night at Hogwarts, but these things went unnoticed by the inhabitants of the bed.

To each, there was only the other, there was only the moment when Hermione's face came so close to Harry's face that her light brown eyelashes brushed his cheek….

Harry only looked up when his bed curtains were torn apart unexpectedly for the second time that night. Hermione spun around; her hands clasped over the mouth that, seconds ago, had been so close to Harry's. Harry heard the gasp that parted her lips before he looked up to see his own figure glaring angrily down at them.

A/N: Erm...I hope you like it. Let me know. (cue to review now)

Will bite nails furiously until you do.