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Hope you like this chapter. I loved writing it because some important milestones are passed here.

The next morning, after breakfast, Harry and Hermione decided to read up on the family history in the library. Harry, however, seemed to have a new plan of action.

"Lady Grey says the antics of the poltergeist have been confined to the East Wing, mostly. Why don't I just wander around there, wait for it to come to me?"

"And what are you going to do once it appears?"

"Good point. Let's go to the library."

The library was a vast and huge one, with an arched ceiling, and stained glass windows that filtered the sunlight. They looked around, picking books they might need, and piled them onto a table. Hermione was sitting on one end of a couch, and Harry plopped himself next to her, so close that their legs brushed.

Hermione stiffened, and tried to move away from him, but she was already at the end of the couch, against its arm. She was about to rise, when Harry said, "Just like old times, isn't it?"

Hermione gave him a weak smile, and decided, against her better judgement, to stay.

And they split up the books and started working.

When she was about halfway through her pile of books, and the rise was well on its way to the top of the sky, she looked over at Harry and was startled to find him watching her.

He'd been caught off guard, but now his walls shot up again, and his eyes lost their warmth.

"What?" Hermione asked hotly, anger welling up again at how easily he switched from one personality to the other.

Harry placed a hand on her thigh, which was clad in a short skirt. He said, in a low voice, "You look very beautiful today." His voice sounded huskier than usual, the way guys put on a fake voice to flirt.

It did not have the same ring of truth when he'd told her she'd looked beautiful the first day she'd arrived at Sherrington.

So she glared at him, and asked, "What do you think you're playing at?"

Harry looked surprised, but then smiled slyly at her, saying, "I'm flirting with you when Lady Grey's not around."

Tears of fury and hurt rushed to her eyes, and shot she shot up, off the couch, and his hand dropped from her thigh.

"This is all just a game to you, isn't it?" cried Hermione, tears spilling over onto her face.

And she fled from the room. She did not see Harry's look of regret.

He rose quickly, and followed her.

She ran all the way back to her rooms. She was quick, and by the time Harry caught up to her, she was already at her door.

"Hermione...wait!" he called. She remembered how she's called to him yesterday in the graveyard, and he hadn't stopped.

She stopped.

"I'm sorry," he said, sounding sincerely upset. "I was just kidding around. I didn't mean- to make you cry."

Hearing the real Harry in his words, she turned hopefully.

As she drew closer to him, however, his face hardened, and the mask fell over his face.

Her chest hurt, and she spat angrily, "I hate this! I hate how you- you turn everything off when I come too close."

Harry looked at her, shocked.

"I hate this cold and calculative look you have, like you're aloof, and don't care. Because you don't! I hate that!"

Harry's face seemed to fill with rage, and he spat back, "Would you care? Would you care if your best friend who cut you out of her life came back three years later, begging to be kissed?"

Hermione was furious. "Is that what you think I am? Begging to be kissed?"

She looked absolutely glorious, her hair astray, her cheeks red with anger, her fists clenched and her perfect chest heaving up and down in deep breaths.

She is absolutely begging to be kissed , Harry thought, his eyes flitting to her flushed cheeks, and her full lips, remembering how soft they'd felt, yesterday...and the feel of her hands on him.

Pushing those thoughts away, he snarled, "Yes. And seeing as I'm the one who begged for a kiss three years ago, it's taken you long enough to catch up, hasn't it?"

Something seemed to break inside of Hermione, and she screamed at him, "I've liked you since before you even noticed Ginny! You're the one who was too blind to notice. Don't you dare-"

Then she froze, immediately regretting saying it.

Harry was stock-still, and staring at her, wide-eyed. In a breathless whisper, he said, "What?

Harry's mind seemed to be working at full-speed. Hermione knew, in a few seconds, he would ask the questions she dreaded the most. The questions to which she had no answers.

Wanting to be as far away from Harry as possible, she fled into her room and slammed and bolted the door.

And she collapsed onto the floor in front of the door and burst into tears.

Harry was on the other side, listening.

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