A/N: This is the longest chapter yet, I think.

Lock and Key

Chapter 12

Harry left Hermione alone on the weekend. He was now angry with her for treating him like hippogriff dung and giving no real reason why, but was also confused. Ron asked what had happened on Friday night and Harry told him every detail, leaving out Hermione's last remark. Ron went to Hermione about it and got a curt, "It's none of your business". He was outraged and left her alone as well. Harry did, however, begin his training. He met with Kingsley, Higgins and Tonks, separately, in Dumbledore's office. He had a damn difficult time keeping it from Ron, and came back from each meeting exhausted. They were teaching him Auror and advanced magic, and it wasn't fun. Harry wondered when he would ultimately find the courage and time to tell his loved ones about the prophecy.

Harry sat in the library, researching books for his Defense Against the Dark Arts essay. Yesterday he and Hermione had turned in their Charms project. They had to give a small presentation and were exceptionally formal, with one another and the audience. Professor Flitwick thought they had done a superior job and Harry marveled as to why he thought so—they had done maybe 40 of it together.

He growled, slamming the book shut. Nothing in there was of use. Harry wondered what Hermione was doing.

"Hi Harry," said Ginny Weasley. He looked up. She stood before his table, book in arm, "Mind if I sit?"

"Not at all," he mumbled. She took a chair.

"How've you been?" Ginny inquired. Harry looked at her wryly.

"Right. Not so great," she smiled guiltily, "Hermione… yeah."

"What about you? Things going well with Colin?" he replied. Ginny and Colin had secretly started dating a couple of week ago. Mostly everyone knew about it but they had yet to officially come public because of one reason: Ron.

"Things are going well," she retorted, blushing a bit.

"When are you going to tell Ron?"

"Never, if I can help it." Harry laughed and then said:

"Maybe he'll get over it when he has his own girl."

"And then again, maybe not," Ginny mused, opening her book, "And I know he'll just tell the rest of our brothers." They worked in silence for about five minutes before a nagging question began to pester Harry.

"Ginny?" he prompted.

"Hmm?" she answered.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Uh huh."

"What's with Hermione?" She ceased writing and looked at him.

"What do you mean?"

"You know that she's been ignoring me, and I wondered if you knew why. I tried to get an answer out of her but only got vague responses and more anger." Harry explained. She frowned.

"You truly have no clue as to why she's troubled?" Ginny inquired. He snorted.

"No! She refuses to speak to me, for whatever her motive!"

"Well, she definitely has her reasons."

"It'd be nice if she let me in on them! Instead, she wants to irritate me by acting like a stubborn brat!" he vented.

"Don't you think 'brat' is a bit harsh?" she steely asked.

"Not in the least bit." Harry flatly said. Ginny sighed.

"Maybe you should try to talk to her."

"Again?"

"It may work—" she began.

"Yeah, right," he forcefully stated. Ginny shot him a perilous look.

"Then maybe you should just think of what you could have done wrong."

"I have, and have come up with nothing." Harry observed, pushing the Parvati issue to the back of his mind. He wasn't even sure about that….

"Hermione is a girl, Harry," she exasperatedly told him, "She's going to be upset over things you don't think much of! Or things you do, not considering anyone else's feelings about the matter." He gazed blankly at her.

"Are you implying that I'm inconsiderate?" Harry pondered.

"Sort of, not exactly, and only at times."

"You're being just as vague as Hermione! What are—"

"Merlin Harry," Ginny hissed, eyes closed, "Hermione is hurt because of the Parvati thing, all right!" He blinked several times, staring at her.

"But… I… why? I don't understand why she'd be that disturbed over it," he said. She had used the word hurt.

"Think about it Harry," she advised him, gathering her work, "I'll see you at practice." Ginny then left the library. Harry was speechless.

The following day, it rained. Hermione's chin rested on the top of her fist as she lethargically made her way through the corridor. She felt no need to hurry back to Gryffindor Tower; it wasn't exactly pleasant for her there, what with awkward silence and silent hostility between she and her friends. She couldn't believe it was already the middle of November and mediated over how long this distance from Harry would last. Hermione just didn't know when she'd be able to get over the image of Harry giving his (much wanted) affection to Parvati.

Hermione sighed and swept her hair back with a hand. A little further ahead, she recognized David speaking with Rebecca Mesh. The two of them laughed and then Rebecca waved goodbye. She smiled at Hermione as they passed one another; the Head Girl returned it.

"Hi David." Hermione addressed, grinning.

"Hey Hermione," he hailed, "I'm really glad to see you—I need to talk to you."

"Oh, okay. I just walked by an empty classroom."

"That's perfect." Hermione & David turned around and returned to the deserted room.

"Look Hermione, I'll just be frank," he said, facing her after the door was shut, "I think you're amazing."

"Thank you," she blushed.

"There's more to it than that. Um… I know we've maybe not known each other for as long as you would've liked, but—"

"Well, maybe not, but we've gotten to know one another quite well, right?" Hermione interjected, assuming his speech was headed somewhere negative. True, she did wish she could have gotten to know David sooner; he was an exemplary person.

"Yes, yes, definitely," David said, his face lighting up, "It's just… I don't know what you look for in a bloke, or if you're even interested in this at the moment, but… I just thought I'd inquire as to whether or not you might want to go out with me." Wow. Hermione looked at him, a forlorn smile on her face. Oh goodness.

Yes, she indeed cared for him, and knew he was a terrific person, but… unfortunately, that certain emotion was absent for her. Hermione had originally thought she could come to like David in a romantic way, but as she began to spend time with him, the only thing that had blossomed was the potential for an intense friendship. Besides, if anything, her heart was already taken—taken by a boy with black hair, glasses, and who had no regard for it. She wished she could move past Harry, wanted to do so very badly, but could not, and that scared her.

Why did he have to bring this subject up! She supposed she would just have to open her mouth and tell him the truth, as difficult as it was going to be.

"David, I… uh… wow," Hermione said, chuckling nervously, "David, I like you—I really do. I just… I'm not really in the market for a boyfriend. As of right now, I'm not fully… ready. I'm sorry." He appeared rather put out but tried to recover as quickly as possible. Hermione bit her fingernails, a guilty and sad look on her face.

"I'm sorry David," she whispered, "Please don't hate me."

"I don't hate you." David remarked, looking a bit shocked.

"You're not going to avoid me now, are you? You won't swear me off? Because I'd be devastated if you did." She was near tears and he sensed that.

"God, of course not," he confirmed, hugging her, "No, I won't. It'd be absurd! You aren't prepared, I understand that wholly. I'm more than privileged to have you as a friend, Hermione." She nodded her head.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed into his robes.

"It's okay! Please, stop apologizing." Hermione sniffed. God, sometimes she hated Harry; only he could do this to her. She wanted her heart back from him.

&

Harry walked dazedly through the castle, his feet doing the guiding since his mind was elsewhere. He had just gotten back from Hagrid's hut having completed a session (yes, in the freezing rain). Many people assumed that Hagrid had a very limited knowledge of magic, having dropped out third year, but the man surprisingly knew of quite a quite a few powerful spells.

However, the sole issue occupying Harry's mind was Hermione. He had thought about nothing else since his talk with Ginny in the library. Had she confirmed that Hermione was indeed jealous of Parvati, or had she meant something else? Or to really go off the deep end, could it be the least bit possible that Hermione might… well, might feel something more than friendship! Harry concluded that he was probably heavily delusional but could not shake the thoughts. Something lingering in the abyss of his brain (most likely hope?) told him to push the subject.

But it was just too much! The intelligence that Hermione might possess feelings for him was mind blowing, and yet frighteningly exhilarating. He supposed the only way to find out was to speak to her (if he ever found out at all). Though, given the current situation, it was highly probable Hermione wouldn't speak to him for the rest of the year, and what a comforting idea that was.

Harry missed her dreadfully. Her little strike had gone on for too long and it now angered him. He thought about Ginny's suggestion of attempting conversation, once more. He could make her listen to him…. Goodness, why couldn't she just give him a chance!

Harry cleared his throat as he saw someone turn the corner, leading directly into the corridor he was walking down. He glanced at the person and upon seeing whom it was, resorted to staring. Hermione gazed back at him, alarmed. For awhile they merely looked at each other, she uneasily and he, seriously. Hermione tucked her hair behind her ear and quickly turned, leaving him. Harry started and made after her; their time to figure things out had come in his opinion.

"Hermione," he called. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. Damn it, he was going to follow her.

"Go away Harry," she commanded, speeding up.

"No," Harry responded, "Not until we talk. Please."

"I don't want to."

"Hermione, this is—"

"Leave me alone!" Hermione commenced speed walking/jogging, praying to make it to the Head Room before he caught up. Harry gave a small scoff, brows furrowed. Was she trying to escape him! She really didn't want to make this easy, did she?

"Hermione!" he half growled.

She ran up to the Head Room's portrait, cursing Harry for being so fast. Her lead on him had disappeared; he was practically behind her. She harshly whispered the password and plowed inside, begging it to close immediately.

"Don't you dare close on me!" Harry told the picture. Hermione trotted to the sitting area, only to hear Harry tumble inside of the room. She clenched her fists, refusing to cry.

"Hermione," he said. She had never wished for Draco Malfoy so much in her six years of knowing him. Why wasn't he in the room? Where was the ferret when you needed him! Hermione collected whatever it was she needed to compose herself and turned around. He looked resolute and annoyed.

"I should kick you out this instance," she told him, "Get out."

"Try it," he answered. She drew her wand and directed it at his chest.

"You wouldn't." Harry dryly commented.

"Try me."

"Do you want me gone that badly?"

"Yes." Hermione stated.

"Why are you avoiding me!" he suddenly cried out, walking closer.

"I'm not," she insisted, faltering. Her wand dropped to her side and she stepped back.

"Bullocks! That's a lie and you know it! You haven't said a civil word to me for two weeks—half a month!"

"Well, I have spoken to you!"

"Yeah, to yell at me! Hermione, I can't go on like this. You have no right to be angry with me and then decline in telling me why!" Harry explained malignantly.

"Oh, that's odd! You're lecturing me on the right thing to do! Since when are you Mr. Morality!" Hermione shouted, her own wrath returning. She dropped her wand in aggravation.

"There you go again! I don't have the sli--," He stopped himself, sighing wearily, "No, forget it. I'm not going to argue. I'm entirely sick of it." She studied him in surprise but continued to wear a furious face.

"I just want to know what I did to you, Hermione. It's hard not speaking to you. I… miss you," said Harry meekly, "If I could fix the problem I would, or will, but I have to know what it is."

"It's not that simple Harry," Hermione replied softly, all fury gone from her demeanor. She felt like lying down on the sofa, "It's complex and, just… I don't feel like discussing it."

"Even though it's about me? I don't understand what I could have done to have made you so agitated." She shook her head, arms crossed. Harry looked at her dejectedly and was reminded of Ginny's words. Something new inside of him screamed not to press the issue, or even bring it up, but he resolved to pay it no heed. He displayed his Gryffindor bravery and decided to put it out on the table.

"Does… does it have anything to do with… Parvati?" Her eyes immediately met his.

"Why would you assume that?" she questioned. He shrugged.

"I don't know. It's more of a guess than anything, but… I've noticed a few things."

"What things?" Hermione sharply pondered. This time he shook his head.

"If this was all over Parvati, I'm sorry. I-if my kissing her is what you're upset about, I'm sorry, really. I've already apologized to her about it and will probably never feel good about my actions. It was completely stupid of me." She stared to the right of her, arms still locked. After uneasy silence, she quietly asked:

"What made you do it? Why'd you do it, Harry?" He stared at her, taken aback. Dear Lord, this was all over Parvati. He felt as heavy as cement. Could this mean?….

"Because I'm an idiot," Harry lowly retorted, "Hermione… why do you care so much?" She shut her eyes, wincing. Her hands gripped her upper arms tighter. He tried to ignore this and went on.

"I know it was wrong of me and all, but, you act as if… as if you—"

"See Harry? I told you I didn't feel like talking about this! It's just dumb, a-and painful!" Hermione interrupted, pitching her arms out. It looked as if tears threatened her.

"Why is it painful? Please, tell me," Harry remarked. His heart rate had sky rocketed and he took a step closer, "Because i-if it has to do with feelings, I'd like to know." She appeared as though someone had slapped her. Her arms dropped slowly.

"W-What?" she whispered. No! Stop! Don't you have the audacity to risk saying anything more, the fear in Harry yelled.

"I-I'd be able to relate because… well, because it's painful for me to see you with David," Hermione's breathing shortened and he moved nearer yet, without her noticing. He couldn't have stopped talking for all the gold in Gringott's, "I think I have feelings for you, Hermione. Actually… I know I do." Her eyes frantically began searching the room as she struggled to maintain normal breathes. This couldn't be happening; it was impossible. There was no way on Earth Harry was confessing to harboring feelings for her. He's—he's lying; he can't care about you, Hermione hysterically thought, remember Parvati!

"Hermione." Harry said. She fixed her gaze on him. My, he was close, and wore a sad but hopeful expression. God, what have you just done Potter? And why does she look so… gorgeous?

"Harry," Hermione pleadingly started, disregarding the fact that he looked downright endearing, "I don't—you can't… it's… we—"

"I'm not lying, Hermione. In fact, I don't think I've been so sure about anything in my life." She bit her lip and wrung her hands. Okay, if she just composed herself and tried again….

Harry took her hands in his and pulled her right up to him. She watched everything he did in fear and anticipation, reasoning she could stop him. The only problem with that was she felt paralyzed. Did he have to look like that! He cautiously lowered his face to her level and lingered above her lips for a moment. Should he? For Merlin's sake-- do it, he advised himself. Hermione shut her eyes once more, praying for him to stop and go on. She inhaled and the next thing she felt was his lips against hers. Hermione felt her knees almost give way. Harry kissed her languidly and with a charming shyness, savoring the sensation of experiencing her lips for the first time. He let go of her hands and held her face. His nose brushed hers as he ceased fleetingly and moved to the other side, where he kissed her more passionately. His heart felt like it was going to erupt. His hands entangled themselves in her hair.

Hermione didn't oppose to Harry's sudden decision of kissing, which made her legs feel like jello. In fact, it seemed too good to be true. However, she didn't precisely kiss him back; she was much too dazed. This is not happening, this is not happening, this is not happening, she told herself. Her best friend, for whom she had been smitten by for two and a half years, was not acting on his alleged feelings. Harry Potter, of all people, was not kissing her. Dear God, this is happening.

Hermione's eyes flew open. She agonizingly pulled away from him, tears freely falling down her face. She couldn't let him continue—it wasn't right. She was not going to let him play with her emotions, yet again. Hermione couldn't take being his little pawn and felt taken advantage of. What did he want from her! Was he trying to break her!

"What?" Harry asked, worried.

"You can't… you can't do this to me," she noted.

"Do what? Hermione, I—"

"No Harry. I just cannot deal with this right now!" Hermione wept. She fled his side and ran up the incline to the exit. The next moment Hermione was gone, leaving behind a distraught Harry.

&

A/N: Ha ha! Cliffhanger of the week! So, it finally happened. :Sighs: I feel like I made it happen too soon, but oh well. I don't know when, or if, I'll be able to post next week—it's Thanksgiving break and I'm going home! If I can get to a computer and I actually feel like posting, I will. If not, chapter 13 will be up the week I get back. Sorry! Anyway, don't forget to tell a friend about the greatness of Harry Potter and have a good night!