A/N: Thanks once again to Missybewitched for agreeing to Beta this story for me. I still wish her luck with her story:) Please comment if you like what you read so far, if you have any suggestions please let me know. Thanks!

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to JK Rowling.

More Than Friends

Chapter 1: Hermione's Secret

It had just been Gryffindor's first Quidditch match of the season, against angry Slytherins. Play had been in perfect conditions, good visibility and a soft breeze, however the teams had struggled to score against each other. Evenly matched in their abilities, the game had been close, goal for goal. Each pass and shot at goal had been crucial; one mistake could have ended the hopes of victory for either team.

Gryffindor's new team had performed well, with steely determination, managing to snatch a victory away from the strong Slytherin side. Once again, it had come down to a race between Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy for the golden snitch.

Harry had performed the Wronski Feint earlier; he had become expert over the summer break, much to Ron's enthusiasm, and had easily lured Draco into a dangerous dive for a non-existent snitch. Draco had only just been able to pull up in time, shooting off offensive remarks at Harry's back as he zoomed away and hovered around the stands. After this Draco had been more hesitant at following Harry's lead in the lookout for the snitch, and this uncertainty had left him lagging a broom length behind in the all-important dive. Draco had left the pitch in a foul mood, and Harry expected he would be encountering some more unwanted jinxes in the corridors the coming week.

Harry left the change room with Ron, the door emitting a soft clunk as it closed behind them. Looking over at Ron, he saw his own expression mirrored on Ron's face. The game had been tough, but they were both grinning at each other. It was the first time since last year that they had played together in a real match. Harry couldn't get over how good Ron was at deflecting the Slytherin's shots for goal, he mused that Ron seemed to be much better than Oliver Wood - and that was saying something.

Exiting the stadium they began walking back to the castle. It was almost time for lunch, and they were both ravenous. Harry broke into a wide grin again as he turned to look at Ron who was now recounting Harry's devious manoeuvre on Draco with wild hand gestures. He hadn't felt this happy in a long time, and he was hoping the feeling would last. Dumbledore was back as Headmaster of Hogwarts, and he was enjoying his best year yet as a sixth year student.

Harry turned around quickly at the sound of quick footsteps behind the pair of walking teammates. He was expecting some form of retaliation from the Slytherins. Emerald green eyes opened wide in surprise as their vision became obscured by a soft bushy tangle.

Hermione pulled away from Harry, her arms glued tight to his sides. She gave him a peck on the cheek and laughed happily.

"You were both brilliant!" Hermione beamed at them as she stepped away from Harry and embraced Ron in a quick hug. Ron's ears turned slightly pink and Harry laughed.

Hermione pushed herself between them, linked arms, and joined them on their way back to the castle.

As theytraipsed overa small grassy rise, Harry sneaked a look at Hermione only to find that she was looking straight at him. Her cheeks were flushed a soft pink and she had a twinkle in her eye that Harry recognised immediately - and instantly he knew that her excitement was related more to something else than their excellent flying skills or their win against Slytherin.

They had beaten Slytherin many times before, and Harry thought that even with both Ron and him playing at the same time, Hermione's enthusiasm was more than what could be expected.

Harry raised his right eyebrow, a quizzical expression forming on his ruggedly handsome face. "What's up?" he asked Hermione. Ron suddenly looked over at his companions, an unreadable expression forming on his face, replacing the look of elation he wore only a few moments ago.

"Nothing. Can't a girl be happy when her two best friends are Quidditch super stars and Gryffindor has won?" she laughed merrily and smiled at them both. Harry stared up at the turrets of the castle. They had now reached the foot of the stone staircase. He didn't believe her answer, and was going to ask her again, but he didn't get the chance to.

Hermione broke the link between herself and her friends, and gave Ron a quick hug, a playful smile dancing about her lips. She then turned to Harry, the smile still lingering, and gave him one last hug. Harry felt like the temperature had been turned up as he realised that one of Hermione's hands had slide discreetly into the back pocket of his jeans.

Surprised he looked down into her chocolate brown eyes and received a quick wink as her hand withdrew from his pocket.

"I'll see you inside soon for lunch," she said as she turned away from them and began walking back towards the Quidditch Pitch, "I'm going to meet Ginny and walk her back."

Harry and Ron turned from watching Hermione's departing figure, and climbed the stairs into the entrance hall and headed for the Great Hall.

"What's with her?" Ron asked, mouth full of mashed potato, his mind obviously still on Hermione and her excessively good mood.

"Dunno, mate," Harry said absently as he moved his Sheppard's pie around his plate. He didn't think Hermione would be the kind of girl to do that sort of thing - stick her hands down a young man's jeans and…well, he was surprised at the least. Her unexpected intrusion into his private space had left him with a pleasant physical sensation, yet a troubling mental predicament. He seriously hoped she hadn't formed a crush on him, because it was obvious to him that Ron liked her more than a friend. He would have to worry more about Ron than Voldemort if he started to fancy Hermione too, he mused.

He stopped thinking about Hermione, her strange actions and good mood, and eagerly polished off his pie. He and Ron then returned to Gryffindor Tower, thoroughly looking forward to the party that was likely to be awaiting their return.