Harry threw the quill down. No, of course he couldn't tell Hermione, she may be the best friend he had, (apart from Ron) but she had made him promise not to. The mother of the baby that was. Getting to his feet, he ripped the letter into tiny pieces.

Walking downstairs he threw each piece into the fire individually, making sure each one was burnt thouroughly.

"Hey, Harry, what are you doing?" came the voice he'd learned belonged to Belle.

"Oh, nothing. Hey look Belle, I'm sorry." he muttered.

Her eyes twinkled.

"It's okay." she insisted. "But what are you doing?"

Harry couldn't believe she could be so... forgiving of him.

"Nothing." he repeated.

"Come on, Harry." she begged.

He plonked himself onto the couch.

"You're not going to leave me alone until I talk to you, are you?" he said, a slightly amused smile on his face.

"Nup." she answered, sitting next to him.

"Well, it's just I have a reason for my actions these past few days. I began to tell Hermione in a letter, cos she's back home, but then I couldn't bring myself to tell her. So I burned the letter." Harry said quietly.

"You can tell me." Belle soothed, putting her hand on top of Harry's.

"If you tell a soul, I swear to god I'll kill..." he started.

"I won't tell anyone." Belle promised.

Harry glanced at her long, skinny manicured hand upon his own.

He touched it slowly, and his secret poured out to Belle.

"Well, that is a huge shock, I do have to admit. You are amazing for telling me, and you don't have to tell me this next thing if you don't want to, but who is the mum? Anyone... I know?" Belle asked timidly, knowing Harry could change from kind and caring to angry and mean in just seconds.

"I'd tell you... but I can't." he breathed.

"That's okay. Thanks for telling me the rest." she said gratefully, shuffling a little closer to Harry.

He put his hand on her shoulder.

"You're the only person who knows. Except for... well the mum." he added.

Belle looked into his sparkling green eyes, her own dark brown ones shimmering in the light.

He moved her face closer to his, so it was only a few centimetres away from Belle's.

She could feel his breath tickling his neck.

Harry cupped her face with his hands.

She smiled weakly, examining his scar intently.

"It's the closest I've ever been to your famous scar." she joked.

Harry smirked at Belle.

He reached forward and clutched at her sweaty hands.

"Whoa Harry, slow it down right? We have to be friends before we even consider anything else, don't we?"

"No. If we're meant to be, we're meant to be."

He leant forward and kissed her quickly.

"Harry, I just want to be friends with you first." Belle pulled away and clutched his hands.

"Sorry. But you were the one who said you hated me!"

"I was only doing it to cover up my true feelings for you. I thought you were too much like Sirius. But I can't hide them from you anymore. I love you, Belle."

"I like you, Harry. As friends. I want to try us out as good friends before we get into anything more serious." Belle pleaded.

Harry sighed.

"Fine."

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Hermione sat in her two storey house, sobbing softly. Harry didn't trust her. If he didn't trust her, he had no-one his age to understand his worries and concerns. Neither did Hermione, Harry was her best friend in the world, and although she hated admitting it, Ron couldn't compare to him.

Hermione's room was largish. Her bed was double, and the blankets were 'Betty Boop'. In one corner was her wardrobe, full of her slightly unfashionable clothes. In the other stood her chemistry set. Even though she was a witch she still enjoyed playing with chemicals, making concoctions and muggle potions. Next to her bed was her desk, where she did all the homework set at Hogwarts during the holidays. She had not much to do with her holiday time now she was no longer a Hogwarts student. There were lots of other things in her room, mostly muggle stuff, some wizard items. The walls of her room were painted hot pink. The room was bright and colourful and just being in it made Hermione a little more cheerful. But the tears still fell. She had no idea why. She normally didn't cry about that sort of stuff.

"Hermy, dear." her father called. She wiped her tears on her pillow quickly and sniffed.

"Dad?" she answered. He had been working in Scotland for the past few days, she didn't think he'd be back so soon.

"Your mother called me and told me you came home for a while, so I came back as soon as I could." he said.

She glanced in the mirror and shuddered at her ugly puffy looking eyes. But she got to her feet and opened the door. She hugged her tall, skinny father tightly.

"I've missed you." she breathed. She hadn't seen him for a few months.

"I've missed you too, honey. Your mum says an early dinner is ready, apparently she's made your favourite, spag bol." Mr Granger explained, putting his arm around his daughter.

"Great. Look, I have to go to the bathroom and do something about my eyes. I think I'm allergic to something." she lied, and rushed off.

Mr Granger raised his eyebrows, knowing his daughter well enough to know she was lying.

Hermione came downstairs for dinner five minutes later.

"You better eat it quick, it's getting cold." Mrs Granger told her.

"I'm not three." Hermione said coldly, but ate her spaghetti bolognaise eagerly.

"I thought me and your father could go out tonight, just to catch up after these past few weeks. You don't mind staying at home tonight, do you?" Mrs Granger asked.

"No of course I don't mind." Hermione agreed. So an hour later, her two parents left for the club, arm in arm. Hermione rushed up to her room and grabbed her owl, Beatrice. Beatrice was only rented for a month or two so Hermione could contact her friends.

'Dear Harry, I need to see you. Now. Just get the Knight Bus here I need to see you. Lots of love, Hermione.' she scribbled.

She handed the note to Beatrice.

"Be quick, Bea. Really quick." she pleaded.

So with a final squawk, Beatrice disappeared into the sunset.

The only reply back from Harry was a simple 'okay'.

So about ten minutes after Harry's owl, he arrived in the Knight Bus.

"Hermione, what's wrong?" he cried, hugging her.

"Nothing. I just wanted to talk to you." she said quietly.

"Oh... Hermione I thought you were in danger or something, the way you wrote that letter." Harry scolded, although he was clutching at Hermione's hand.

"I'm sorry." she apologised.

"Well I'd better be off..."

Hermione grabbed his arm to stop him leaving and kissed.

((BEEN SO LONG SINCE MY LAST UPDATE SORRY ANY GUESSES OF THE MUM?))