CHAPTER 3: Confusion Made Worse

Hermione sat on her bed long into the night, thinking about the strange tingling sensation when she had touched Harry's hand. What had it meant? Had it really been static electricity? Or was it something a little more complicated? Her heart was in turmoil. Half of her had loved the feeling of that strange tingling running through her body but the other half had tried to run from it like the plague. It felt like she was betraying Ron's memory but she didn't know why.

Hermione leaned her head on the wall behind her, closing her eyes and sighed in a confused manner. Her feelings were jumbled and she was baffled by them. Ever since Ron had died, Hermione had been very distant with men, feeling like they would steal away part of her heart as well. The only man she had been close to was Harry.

'I have nothing but brotherly affection for Harry,' she told herself firmly. 'I have not got feelings for him. I love Ron and no one could ever change that…even if he is gone.' At this thought, Hermione choked back tears that were once again threatening to fall. 'NO!' she said to herself. 'I just got through this and I don't want to go through it again!' She shook herself and stood up, stretching.

Hermione tiptoed down the stairs, moving extra-quietly past Harry's door, aware that this was his only time to let go and she didn't want to interrupt it. She walked into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water. She was about to take a sip when she was spun around. The glass fell out of her hand and shattered and she let out a small scream that was quickly stifled…

Harry sat on his bed for a long time, deep in thought. What had happened when Hermione had touched his hand? That weird tingling feeling that ran through his whole body? It had taken him aback and he was quite mystified as to what it had meant. He put his face in his hands as he had so many times but the tears did not flow this time. There was too much to think about for sorrow.

'No,' Harry thought. 'I don't like Hermione any more than a sister. I know she's beautiful…and intelligent…and charming…and kind…and thoughtful…and talented…and powerful…what am I doing?' he thought, wondering how had ended up ranting about how wonderful Hermione was. 'I have not got feelings for her…but what about what Ron said?' His musings were interrupted by the squeak of the loose floorboard outside his door. He waited just a moment, making up his mind, and then resolutely opened the door and followed.

It was Hermione and she walked straight to the kitchen. Harry watched silently from the doorway as she poured herself a glass of water from the tap. He stared at the beautiful silhouette standing in the moonlit kitchen, the striking profile staring forlornly into the sparkling water. He watched her raise the glass to her lips before he rushed to her and spun her around. She shrieked as the glass broke but her scream was cut short by Harry covering her mouth with his.

It was a sweet, gentle kiss but Hermione melted into Harry's arms, loving the feel of his smooth warm lips on hers. Harry put one hand at the nape of her neck and the other caressing her arm. Hermione had her hands on Harry's chest where they had placed them in an attempt to keep him away…she had thought him a burglar. Only God knows how long that kiss lasted but when they broke apart, Hermione kept her eyes closed, savoring that feeling. It had felt so right. More so than with Ron.

Hermione's eyes suddenly snapped open, wide and horrified. Harry hadn't moved but was staring at her as though mesmerized with her beauty. When his eyes locked with hers, they came to an understanding; it had been right. But it still felt wrong, horribly wrong, to Hermione.

She stood there for a moment, transfixed by Harry's emerald green eyes but hurriedly broke the connection. She wrenched herself away from him, looking as though about to cry. Then the tears fell, and she flew up the stairs and locked herself in her bedroom. Harry ran after her but stopped dead at the locked door. He knew there was no use in trying to get her to talk to him now. She wouldn't listen.

Harry leaned his back on Hermione's door and slid down to sit at the foot of it. He sighed heavily.

'Great,' he thought miserably. 'Now you've ruined any chance you had with her. She's still too hurt from Ron's death. Now she thinks that I don't care about Ron's memory and, because of that, her feelings.' A single tear slid down his face. He had no chance with her now.

Hermione threw herself on her bed and sobbed into the pillow for quite a while. She sat up and furiously wiped away the tears. Why had she done that?

'It felt so right,' Hermione thought, anxiously. 'But it was so wrong…wasn't it? I love Ron…don't I? Of course I do. Then why did kissing Harry feel so good? Because I miss Ron and…and Harry reminds me of Ron because they were so close,' Hermione reasoned with herself, quickly. She shook her head, as though trying to rid herself of the thought. 'No, that makes no sense! There's only one reason that that would feel so right and I can't…I just can't. There is no chance of that ever happening…is there?'