Title: Mr. X

Chapter: 5

Author: Arawna

Disclaimer: Anything pertaining to Harry Potter and Co. does not belong to me, rather to JKR and anyone else who has stuck their hand into this cauldron. Pity really, I could've made it more appealing to the masses – of slash fans.

A/N: I am well aware of the mistakes in Harry's texting…that's half of the point. Oh, and sorry about the lengthy wait for chapter 5…had a rather long essay to write…and that was before my friends kidnapped me and took me to Canada for a Spring Break trip…Anyway, hope you enjoy this one.

Harry was fidgety all the next day, avoiding eye-contact and constantly moving. Hermione was incessantly watching him as he flitted from one place to the other, never really achieving anything worthwhile. Ron didn't seem to notice his friend's anxious state.

"Harry," Hermione called as she watched him straighten the same portrait for the fifth time. Ron had excused himself to the kitchen to pillage the cupboards. "What's wrong with you? You seem…restless. You know, I've only seen you sit down for a grand total of two minutes. What's on your mind?"

Harry merely stared at her for two seconds before his gaze went searching for something that needed adjustment. He found nothing, since everything had been adjusted a multitude of times already. Still feeling a panic he couldn't explain, he lowered himself to the very edge of the sofa, where Hermione was sitting at the other end.

"I – I really don't know," he confessed, dropping his gaze to the nail-bitten hands in his lap. "M-my mind's just racing and I – I just can't explain it right now, Herm."

Hermione watched as he desperately looked around again.

"Harry, stop that," she ordered. "Everything is in order; seeing as how you're the one that put it there." She watched Harry slump in defeat. However, he soon found something to occupy his mind: he began picking the lint from the bottom of his sock. Hermione put a stop to that at once. "Harry James Potter! Stop that this instant, that is filthy! If you want to mope about something, then at least talk to me whilst you mope!"

He looked up at her, the epitome of pathetic. "I don't wanna talk about it, Hermione; I'm still trying to figure it out myself."

Hermione sighed as Harry went back to picking lint. She figured now would be as good a time as any to force him to talk about anything instead of allowing him to use his unconventional tactics to circumvent anything close to a meaningful conversation.

Biting the bullet, she chose to charge forward, hoping that she was wrong, but knowing otherwise. "This is about Malfoy, isn't it?"

Harry's head shot up so quick, Hermione was sure he'd suffer some sort of whiplash. She would've laughed at the 'cornered animal' look if it had been over someone other than the Slytherin. Then, as quickly as the frightened stare had come, Harry was back to his previous state, even if it was a bit more twitchy and drug-addict-like than it was before.

"Wh-where did you g-get a notion l-l-like that?" he stuttered, trying in vain to run a hand through his unruly and apparently tangled locks.

Hermione rubbed her brow in the way she did when confronted with a rather inexorable situation – which was, more often than not, Harry. "Just call it a hunch."

"Who's got a hunch?" Ron asked, choosing that exact moment to walk out of the kitchen and back into the conversation.

"Nothing, Ronald," Hermione said, turning away from Harry while she spoke to her boyfriend. Wanting to talk with the restive man alone, she quickly fabricated a lie to rid herself of Ron for the time being. "Oh, dear, I couldn't help but notice that you two are running a bit low on apples, could you run down to the market to get some?"

"'Mione, there's no apples in the kitchen for a reason," the red head said, plopping himself on the chair. "Neither of us particularly likes them."

"Okay, well, you need…" Hermione's mind raced as she tried to think of something to send him out for. "Oh! Get whipped cream, strawberries, and chocolate sauce."

Confusion passed over Ron's face. "But what do we need-"

"I'll tell you later, love," she coaxed with a wink. Her suggestive grin seemed to get through to Ron, because he was up and out the door in the blink of an eye.

Hermione sighed. Dammit, and I have to get up early tomorrow.

Resigning that it was for the 'Greater Good', she turned back toward Harry to continue their 'conversation'. What she was met with, however, was an empty sofa. She was still staring at the still depressed cushion when the bang of a door from down the hall reverberated through the flat.

Cursing to herself, she jumped from her seat and made for Harry's bedroom.

"Harry," she called through the door. "Harry, you know you can talk to me. Come on, Ron's not here."

Nothing but silence answered her.

"If you're gonna mope silently, then I'm coming in," she announced. Before he could protest, Hermione had opened the door and strode halfway across the room, bound for the bed, where Harry was sitting, clutching his phone. Noting the presence of the phone, she asked, "Were you talking to him?"

Harry shook his head. "No, he's got practice right now." He laughed to himself; more of a sudden exhale through his nose than anything else, really. "Funny I should know that, seeing as how I've only known him a few days."

Silence drifted between the two of them for a moment before Hermione spoke. "Do you talk to him about Malfoy?"

Harry shrugged. "Sometimes."

Hermione moved to sit next to Harry on the bed. When he didn't cringe away from her, she put an arm around his shoulders. "You know you can always talk to me and Ron about this." He glanced up at her with a look of skepticism on his face. "Okay, I'm here for you to talk to."

"Thanks, but no thanks, Herm." He actually grinned, which kinda shocked Hermione, given the circumstances. "I think I'll stick with talking with X, if you don't mind. He's already seemed to help me realize some – er – feelings."

"Feelings?" she asked.

Harry stared down at the phone. "I'll explain later."

Hermione bit her lip as another silence spread between the two of them. "I don't know, Harry. To be honest, I don't like that you don't know him."

"Only for another two days; he promised," Harry replied. "After that, you won't have to worry about me not knowing him."

Hermione knew she should've put up more of a fight, but she was just too soft where Harry was concerned.

Well, that and she heard the front door shut as Ron returned home.

TBC…