It was a dark night. The wind whipped through her hair and sent chills running up and down her spine. Torrents of rain sliced through the fog to fall into the thick forest of trees below. She glanced quickly over her shoulder to see if anyone was following her. Her eyes met with nothing. Around her, the harsh sound of heavy rain was muffled by the ancient trees. Pulling her cloak closer about her body, she took shelter under a gnarled tree and waited. Would he come? Did he get her letter?

At the sound of a twig cracking right behind her, the girl whirled around sharply and saw a hooded figure emerging slowly from the mist. She let out her breath with relief and excitement. He had come. His hand delicately brushed her brown hair from her face and she smiled. There they stood in the forbidden forest, partaking in a forbidden love.

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The fire burned merrily in the grate as Harry and Ron finished up an essay for Professor Snape. Ron groaned as he accidentally spilled butter beer all over the essay. "Where's Hermione when you need her," he complained loudly and began mopping up the mess with his sleeve.

"Mmmmmm," grunted Harry in agreement, with a quick glance at Ron. "She could help us find out about the uses of flobberworm spit. Let me read yours." Harry grabbed the stained parchment and began to read.

"It's really awful," Ron said dejectedly. "I hope he doesn't notice I have no idea what I'm talking about." Harry finished the essay and looked up at his best friend.

"No," he replied, "I think it's really good." Harry handed back the essay.

"I just wish Hermione was here to correct it," Ron said, looking hopefully at the door. "Where is she anyway?"

"Maybe she's with a mysterious lover," suggested Harry as a playful smile crossed his face.

"Don't joke about that Harry. It's not a laughing matter."

"Why are you worried? Do you like Hermione more than you've let on?" The joking, happy air had left Harry's face and he was now staring coldly at his friend.

Ron opened his mouth and said nothing. Harry continued to look at him stonily.

Suddenly, the portrait hole swung open, breaking the icy tension, and Hermione hurriedly clamoured in.

"There you are," said Harry, a little too quickly, a rosy red colour rising into his cheeks. Neither Ron nor Hermione noticed this however, she was smiling out the window into the direction of the forest, and Ron had stood up with a questioning look on his face.

"You're wet," Ron accused.

"So," replied Hermione, still not looking at either of the boys.

"That means you've been outside." Ron's voice was beginning to rise.

"Yes, I suppose it does."

"You weren't with anyone, were you?" asked Ron abruptly.

"Why does it matter to you?" Hermione bitterly retorted, finally turning and acknowledging Ron.

"It doesn't," he answered with mock insincerity, "I just thought that the only special people in your life were characters in books." Hermione stepped back, stung.

"I can't believe you Ron," she shouted, "can't you just be happy that I found someone who completes me?" She spun on her heel and ran up the staircase to the girls dormitory. Slamming his fist down on the table, Ron sat down. This action caused butter beer to spill again, this time all over Harry. Ron didn't even look up. Harry stared at him for a moment then quietly stood up and spoke.

"You don't care about anyone else's feelings. Do you Ron? You don't care about anyone but yourself, and apparently Hermione." He added the last bit as he turned and strode purposefully out of the common room.

Lifting his head out of his hands, Ron stared incredulously after Harry. "WHY ARE YOU SO UPSET HARRY?" Ron bellowed after his retreating friend, "I THINK YOU FEEL SOMETHING FOR HERMIONE YOURSELF!" Harry looked back with a pained expression on his face, then turned and left, saying nothing.