Chapter 7

Harry got maybe two steps into the Room, before he looked up. And when he looked up, he did a double take that would have been worthy of someone who had been hit by a stunning jinx. The room was…well. It was pink. That was the first thing he noticed. He seemed to be standing in a small version of Madame Puddifoot's, in Hogsmeade. He glanced around again and pinched his self in case he was dreaming. He wasn't..

"Umm… Don't you like it Harry?" Hermione asked tentatively.

"Well don't you think it's a little… pink?" Asked Harry. Hermione's reaction was worse than Harry could have imagined. It was a rerun of Cho. Hermione started bawling.

Funny how this sort of thing always seemed to happen to him in the Room of Requirement, Harry thought dryly. If this kept up, he'd find himself avoiding it entirely.

He sighed and moved to pat her awkwardly on the back. "Mione? What's up?" He asked in a voice nearly the same as Hermione's had been.

"I thought that it was nice. I went to Madame Puddifoot's before with…" She turned pink in the face and didn't finish her sentence. Harry sighed again and turned her around to face him. She wouldn't meet his eyes.

"Look, Mione." She looked up at him, a tear still trembling on her eyelash. "I never meant to make you cry. Let's just forget it, ok?" He looked around, still holding her by the shoulders. "I guess it's not so bad. It just maybe takes a bit of getting used to. A bit like blue cheese?" That drew a small giggle from her, and Harry let go of her shoulders, immensely relieved. He ignored the impulse to brush away the tear. They were just friends!

All of a sudden Harry heard a small gasp and saw the smallest Weasely looking around the door. "Oh, hey Gin." Said Harry.

"Hey Harry. Mione." She replied in a falsely cheerful voice even to Harry's ears. Harry found that it was his turn to look away and felt his cheeks burning. "I'll… just be… going now," Harry said in a rush, " see you later Mione. Talk to you later Gin."

He rushed past Ginny, stubbornly ignoring the snivel he thought he might have heard from her. Why did every female have to dissolve into tears around him? Why him? At least Ron agreed with him; girls did not make sense. Oh well. Let Hermione deal with it.

But Hermione didn't deal with it. As he turned a corner, nearly running in his attempt to escape female hysterics, he saw his friend rushing in the opposite direction. Ginny was standing just outside the room, her mouth slightly ajar. He felt a flash of pity for her, but he absolutely could not deal with anything else right now.

He didn't have a choice. As he turned yet another corner he nearly ran into Ron and Lavender snogging. He slowly backed away hoping against hope that neither of them had seen him. He was lucky (finally) because he managed to get away. He got to the Gryffindor Common Room and rushed straight up to his dorm. He lay down in bed, closed the curtain around him and pretended to sleep.

Things had been so simple before. Compared to Hermione, Ginny, and Cho, Lord Voldemort seemed like a pushover. Harry sighed again. He'd told Hermione the truth about not meaning to make her cry. He'd never meant to hurt her feelings.

Choking down yet another sigh, hoping that he didn't sound too much like a broken bagpipe, Harry pushed back his curtains and sat up. Pretending to sleep wasn't helping. On the contrary, it was making things worse. He made his way down to the common room, avoiding thoughts of Hermione. Trying not to think of the tears trickling down her cheeks, pooling on her chin, spilling over onto her robes.

But he stopped dead at the foot of the stairs. The common room wasn't empty. Hermione was sitting on a couch by the fire, not crying, thankfully, but seemingly deep in thought.

Chapter 8

He snuck down the stair and sat beside her on the couch. She looked up suddenly wary, and then saw it was him and looked back down. "Hermione… I'm really sorry. I really didn't mean to hurt your feelings." He said.

Hermione looked up. No more tears in her eyes. "I accept your apology Harry." She replied.

"You're not mad at me? Not just for being rude, I mean. About running off when Ginny showed up?" Harry hated the fact that he sounded like he was pleading, but he needed to know.

Hermione smiled. "I'm not mad at you. I just wondered why you ran off."

"Well," Harry grimaced but kept going, "it…I…well. She was going to start crying!" He burst out. To his great relief, Hermione wasn't upset by his reply. She was grinning. "I didn't even know what was wrong with her." He finished.

"Oh Harry." Hermione's voice was mixed. She sounded exasperated and amused. But mostly amused. "Wasn't it obvious? Ginny likes you. She's liked you since her first year, and when she saw us together, she must have gotten the wrong idea."

For some reason, this bothered Harry. Then he realized why, and before he could stop himself, he'd spoken aloud. "What's the wrong idea?"

Hermione blushed. "Well. She thought…she must have thought that we were…well…together."

Harry didn't say anything. The silence stretched out between them, until Hermione couldn't stand it any longer, and looked down. She was about to say something stupid about getting off to bed, when she felt Harry's hand on her chin. She met his eyes. He would have been smiling if he hadn't looked so nervous. "Would that be so bad?" He was almost whispering.

Their faces were very close together. Hermione's hair was brushing Harry's forehead. He met her gaze again, and was happy to see that there were still no tears in her eyes. Then he stopped thinking, as she leaned forwards a little further and touched her lips to his.

THE END