Chapter 2

Harry could hear his heart pounding in his ears. For a moment there was utter silence in the great hall before Ron's burst of laughter prompted everyone else's. Harry, in an attempt to seem casual and like I-was-just-minding-my-own-business-and-totally-not-staring-at-you, had hastily raised his arm to rub the back of his head (like that was sooo casual at dinner). Except, Harry had completely forgotten he was holding his treacle tart, which slipped out of his hand at his panicked movement. The next moment seemed to move in slow-mo for him as his tart flew across the room.

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Hermione was at an utter loss to explain what just happened. One minute she had a question on the tip of her tongue about transfiguration, the next, her best friend's treacle tart was soaring across the room and making it's acquaintance with a certain Slytherin's face (with an audible whap too). Said Slytherin was rapidly turning Gryffindor red as the tart slid down his face and to the floor.

All he had been trying to do was leave the great hall, but Potter had to make him the laughingstock of the evening. He was so angry he couldn't speak. But Potter's attention had finally left his bushy-haired friend and had turned to look at Malfoy with wide, shocked eyes. Draco noticed he wasn't laughing with the rest and so instead of taking points like he should have, he just stomped out of the great hall and made his way back to his dorm. Normally for a feat like that he'd give the prat detention and remove points. But for some reason he didn't, and he really didn't want to think about why. "You know why," a small voice in the back of his head taunted him, "It's because of The Incident." He shook his head to get rid of that thought and flopped down on his bed. The voice was right though. Thanks to those wretched Weasley twins Potter now had something to hold against him. He didn't like the idea of Potter having blackmail material on him so he just stayed out of his way as much as possible. "Right. That's why. Blackmail. You tell yourself whatever helps you sleep at night," the voice said slyly. "Oh shut up!" Draco grunted audibly. Just great. Now he was talking to himself. Darn that Potter! And he couldn't even tell his father about this.

Meanwhile back at the Gryffindor table Hermione was looking at Harry with a thoughtful expression. Earlier on she had thought that Harry was only acting weird towards her but now that she really thought about it, he was acting weird with regard to Malfoy as well. Usually Harry took every opportunity he got to complain about the Slytherin. But lately whenever she or Ron brought up Malfoy he was strangely silent, only grunting in agreement and generally trying to change the topic.

And Malfoy himself was acting weird. Instead of following them around and taking points at every opportunity he appeared to be avoiding them, even going so far as to lead the Inquisitorial Squad away from them. Even when they accidentally caught eyes he would just sneer and walk away as opposed to pelting insults. Something was going on. She didn't know what but she would definitely make it her business to find out. After all what if Harry were in some sort of trouble? Maybe that's why he kept avoiding her gaze and acted so twitchy around her. He probably thought if she found out she'd be mad at him. Well, that was going to have to stop. What kind of best friend would she be if she didn't help her friend out of whatever trouble he was in? He didn't even seem to be thinking about winning over Cho anymore so something really must have been wrong.

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Ron couldn't hide his amusement at the situation. "Good one mate!" he chuckled, thumping Harry on the back, "Did you see the look on his face?" He ignored the angry murmurs coming from the Slytherin table and the glares some of them shot in their direction. By some really random stroke of luck, none of the teachers had witnessed what happened which was fortunate for them. The incident had completely wiped out all thoughts of finding out what was up with Harry's weird behaviour. All Ron could think about was Malfoy's face with that tart on it. The git had it coming, in his opinion. But somehow, while everyone was enjoying seeing Malfoy get his comeuppance, Harry was just looking melancholy.

"You okay mate?" Ron asked, noticing Harry's lack of enthusiasm.

"Yeah I'm fine," he said, glancing out of the corner of his eye at Hermione and then turning back to Ron, "I think I'm just gonna head in now. I'm full and Malfoy's wearing my dessert after all."

And with that Harry took off like he was being chased, leaving behind two confused best friends.

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Just great, thought Harry, as he trudged up to the common room. He'd made a fool out of himself in front of Hermione. And he was lucky Malfoy didn't retaliate, although he didn't count it out just yet. Harry didn't stop to consider why exactly he was bothered that Hermione saw that dinner disaster, especially since it really wasn't the first time she bore witness to him doing something stupid. If she had laughed he would have counted it as a victory but as it was, Hermione had just turned to him with a look of utter bafflement. He assumed that meant she disapproved. Somehow, the thought of Hermione's disapproval left a bad taste in his mouth. Never mind that he did many things she disapproved of before and that it had never bothered him that much.

He plopped down in the very same armchair he sat in when Neville had helped him clear his head of some worries, but introduced some new ones as well. It was starting to become a habit to go to that one. Everyone would start coming back to the common room soon and he didn't feel like being around too many people at the moment. But it was too early to go up to bed and he knew he would only toss and turn anyway. Maybe if he got a head start on his transfiguration essay then Hermione would forget about dinner and start thinking about homework. School could always be counted on to distract her. Besides, something in the back of his head was telling him she'd approve of this, and really, though he didn't quite consciously know it, the thought of her approval left a tingly feeling in his stomach. He merely attributed the feeling to stress though. The poor oblivious dear.

Ron and Hermione came up to the common room together a little while after. As it turned out, Harry was right about homework distracting her. "Hey Hermione could you look over my transfiguration essay for me?" he asked, before she could get a word out.

She looked pleasantly surprised, "You're finished already?"

"I am," he replied, feeling slightly proud of himself. Harry had come to realise that throwing himself into work was a good way to clear his head of other thoughts.

"That's great Harry! Of course I'll check it over for you," she cried, "I'm glad to see you're taking your schoolwork seriously. Unlike some people we know." She shot a glare at Ron, who was busy stuffing his mouth with a Cornish pasty he brought up from dinner.

"What," he mumbled, spewing some crumbs onto his shirt, "Thish ish my pwe-homewoke schnack."

"Ugh, Ronald! How many times have I told you to chew and swallow your food before you speak?" she scolded, sounding remarkably like Mrs. Weasley.

"Showwy," he said, grinning sheepishly with his mouth still full, which allowed a few more crumbs to decorate his clothing.

Hermione just face-palmed and stifled an annoyed groan, muttering about manners and hygiene. Of course, Harry was just glad he wasn't on the receiving end of her displeasure. Better Ron than him.

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Hermione was surprised but happy at Harry's initiative. In fact she was actually so surprised that she forgot to question him about his recent behaviour. She herself hadn't finished her essay as yet, but that was because she'd ended up writing twice the required amount and was forcing herself to redo it in a more concise manner so Professor McGonagall wouldn't start worrying about her overworking herself again. The irony of this didn't quite strike her.

She sat down in the armchair across from Harry's, head bent, scanning through his essay for any faults. She was absorbed in it, pleased that Harry's quality of work seemed to have improved, for that particular assignment at least. She finished reading it through and moved over to the armrest of his chair to point out a few grammatical errors.

Harry took the parchment from her and corrected them a bit shakily, thanked her for her help, and bid them both a good night. He claimed all that thinking made him exhausted and all but ran up the stairs to his dorm. This odd behaviour reminded Hermione that she was supposed to talk to Harry about whatever was bothering him. But she supposed she would have to wait until tomorrow to do it, and so she set about finishing her own essay with a disgusted look at Ron who had gotten crumbs all over his.

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Harry lay in his bed, glad to be away from the common room. His essay had distracted him from his woes for a while. But then Hermione had smiled at him in that proud manner and his chest felt funny. He didn't know what it was but seeing her so concentrated on his essay was suddenly making him feel strange. And when a lock of hair fell in her face he had the urge to brush it away and tuck it behind her ear.

It was too much then for poor Harry when she sat next to him to point out the few errors he had made. He had barely managed to focus on what she was saying as he found himself thinking what a nice voice she had. Their hands brushing as she returned his parchment made his stomach flip and having had enough sensory overload for one day, he unsteadily corrected his essay and decided, for his sanity, that he should go to bed. His mind didn't know what to make of these new observations about one of his best friends.

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A/N: Poor Harry. Denial: Not just a river in Egypt.

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