Girls Night In by bentheslayer

Rating: PG
Genres: Romance, Humor
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 08/06/2004
Last Updated: 10/11/2004
Status: Completed

The Gryffindor girls are having a slumber party, which leads to a heartfelt revelation, an
embarrassed Hermione and a bewildered Harry and Ron. Just what is going on?




1. Slumber Party
----------------

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the characters, they belong to J.K.Rowling and I’m using them
without permission and for no profit at all. So there.

**A/N: Thank you to the wonderful Ella_Marie for being my beta!**

Girls Night In

Chapter 1 - Slumber Party

"You know mate," Ron said to Harry one rainy Saturday night, "the girls spending
that much time together only spells trouble for us."

They were sitting in front of the crackling fire in the Gryffindor Common Room, playing
Wizard's Chess. Ron was winning, as usual, but neither of them were playing at their best. They
kept getting distracted from the laughter and squeals that were coming from the stairway leading to
the girl's dormitories.

"You think so?" Harry asked, glancing over at the stairway as a particularly loud
batch of giggling floated down to them.

"I know so," Ron said glumly, toying with where to move his castle.

The Gryffindor girls were having what Muggles called a 'slumber party'. Harry had never
heard of one before so Ron had explained it to him, and Harry was still a little unsure about the
whole thing. He didn't know what could be so bad about the girls staying up until late in the
night chatting, but after hearing the sounds coming from the dormitories above he was beginning to
think that maybe Ron was right. All of the girls from 4th year and above were present at the
slumber party, which meant all of the girls Harry was friends with and closest to - Ginny, Parvati,
Lavender, Angelina, Alicia, Katie, and of course Hermione.

"Tell me again about these slumber parties," Harry said warily as he moved a bishop to
protect his king.

"They're never good mate, trust me. Ginny had loads of them when she was younger, you
can imagine The Burrow taken over by hordes of giggling little girls . . . " Ron visibly
shuddered at the memory.

"But what are they doing up there?"

"Gossiping mostly," Ron said. "It's really what these things are all about, a
big excuse so they can all talk about boys . . . who fancies who, who's snogged who, that sort
of thing . . ."

Harry mulled this over as Ron studied the board for his next move.

"Doesn't really sound like Hermione's thing, does it?" he said.

"Nope," said Ron. "She's up there, though. Go figure that one."

"So that's all they do, then? Talk?"

"I wish. I mean there's other stuff too; lots of eating chocolate and stuff, looking
through girls magazines, and if they were Muggles they'd probably watch one of those
whatcha-call-ems, girls films . . ."

"Oh I know that one," said Harry. "They're called 'chick flicks'.
Dean is always on about how much he hates them."

Harry glanced around the Common Room; most of the other Gryffindor boys were present, and all of
them were glancing worriedly towards the shrieks of laughter coming from the girls above. Neville
was sitting with Dean and Seamus, trying to play a variation of poker with a set of Exploding Snap
cards, but all three of them were looking very worried indeed.

"Those are the ones," Ron said, moving a pawn forward. "Soppy stuff where
everyone's happy and kisses a lot. Well, there's those, and then of course there's the
dares."

Harry's head jerked up worriedly at this.

"Dares?" he asked anxiously. He didn't like the sound of that at all.

"Dares," Ron said, nodding solemnly. "Ginny's mates tried to put me in makeup
once . . . nutters, the lot of them. And that was when they were eight."

Harry swallowed nervously, trying to think what kind of things a bunch of fifteen and sixteen
year-old girls would dare each other to do.

"The only good thing about it, I reckon, is that they're all up there in their
pyjamas."

Ron was grinning at him after saying this, and Harry couldn't help but grin back, flushing
pink slightly. He had to admit that seeing them all in their nightwear wouldn't be a bad thing
really . . .

They played on for half an hour. Their glasses of pumpkin juice were refilled and their supply
of chocolate frogs diminished rapidly; the laughter from above was getting even louder, punctuated
by occasional whoops from Seamus as their cards exploded, sending poker chips flying everywhere.
Despite the laughter Harry was beginning to forget about the girls upstairs when there was a
commotion in the stairwell; everyone in the Common Room looked over as Ginny appeared, closely
followed by Lavender and Katie who hovered in the doorway of the stairwell, giggling
uncontrollably. Harry couldn't help goggling at Ginny, whose choice of nightwear was a rather
small vest and shorts that didn't leave much to the imagination of the boys now all staring at
her. Seamus began cat-calling as Ron stared at Ginny in shock, his mouth opening and closing
quickly.

"Is THAT all you wear to bed?!" he said unbelievably.

Ginny ignored him; their was a rather daft grin on her face as she strode purposefully towards
Harry, who was suddenly feeling very scared.

"Oi you lot, stop staring at my sister!"

Harry didn't know what to say as Ginny came right up to him, still grinning daftly, and
before he knew it she had grabbed him and planted a kiss on his lips. It didn't last long;
Harry was taken completely by surprise and barely had time to register the warmth and softness of
her lips before she was running back to the other girls and they disappeared back up the stairs in
a tirade of giggles. Neville, Dean and Seamus were cheering and whistling.

"Shut it you lot!" Ron shouted angrily. He turned back to Harry looking rather stunned
at what had happened and found Harry looking equally bewildered.

"She just . . . you just . . . you just kissed my sister!" Ron said in shock.

"Um . . . no, she just kissed me . . ."

Harry looked desperately lost. Above them came a particularly loud burst of squeals and
laughter: Harry guessed the other girls had just been informed of Ginny's kiss.

"Must have been a dare," Harry said, hoping that Ron wasn't going to punch him -
he looked somewhere between anger and complete surprise.

"Bloody slumber parties," was all Ron said as he slumped back down in front of the
chess set.

- - -

The rest of the night passed almost uneventfully - whatever else the girls dared each other to
do, they didn't need to come down to the Common Room to do it. Harry and Ron were eating
breakfast in the Great Hall the next morning when Parvati and Lavender entered; seeing the two of
them caused the girls to break out into fits of giggles. Harry threw Ron a questioning look; Ron
shrugged as the girls sat down by them, still giggling, and began helping themselves to
cereals.

"What's so funny?" Ron asked.

"Oh, nothing," Parvati said, barely controlling her laughter.

"Yeah, it's nothing," said Lavender.

"Doesn't sound like nothing to me," Ron said, beginning to get angry. "So you
girls had fun last night?"

More giggles.

"You could say that," said Lavender.

"Have you seen Hermione this morning?" Harry asked them. "We were all going to do
our homework down by the lake but she hasn't turned up."

Parvati and Lavender exchanged a look before cracking up again.

"Um . . . I doubt she'll be doing her homework with you boys today," said Parvati
between laughs.

"Why not?" Ron asked. "What have you lot done to her?"

"Nothing," Lavender said innocently.

"Lavender, Parvati," Harry said seriously, "if you've done anything to upset
Hermione . . ."

Both girls put down their spoons and faced him, no longer laughing.

"There's no need to get angry Harry, we promise we haven't done anything to
her," Parvati said.

"So why won't she be doing homework with us then?" said Ron.

"Well . . . " Lavender began, but then began giggling again, unable to help herself.
"You'll see for yourselves, I'm sure, but let's just say Hermione is rather . . .
oh, you'll see!"

Harry shot Ron a puzzled look as the girls dissolved into laughter again. He didn't like
them laughing about Hermione like that - whatever had happened, even if they hadn't done
anything. He nodded to the door and Ron followed him out.

*"Open Sesame,"* Harry said told the Fat Lady. The portrait swung open and they
had only just clambered through when Hermione suddenly appeared, barrelling past them at high
speed. She only caught their eye for a second; her cheeks were crimson and she ignored them as they
called after her.

"What . . ?" Ron began.

"Hermione!" Harry shouted at her fast-vanishing form. "Hermione, wait!"

But there was no stopping her.

"Bloody hell," said Ron.

"Those bloody girls," Harry said angrily. "They must have done something to upset
her, I don't care what Parvati and Lavender said."

"Well, there's no use trying to talk to her now mate. She'll probably just run off
. . ."

"Probably," said Harry, scratching his head. "Oh well, we'll have to just try
and speak to her later, maybe she'll have calmed down a bit then . . . c'mon, we'd
better get started on that homework or McGonagall will hex us into next week . . ."

- - -

They went down to the lake as planned, figuring that Hermione knew where they'd be if she
decided she wanted to talk to them. Compared to the rain of the previous night it was a lovely
sunny day, and sitting underneath the shade of their favourite tree Harry and Ron lazily completed
their Transfiguration essay, a foot of parchment about the procedure and uses of turning household
pests into stationery. The sun was much lower in the sky when they returned to the castle,
discussing the upcoming Ravenclaw/Hufflepuff Quidditch match. There had been no sign of Hermione at
all, something that only crossed their minds as they clambered through the portrait hole for a
second time. She was sitting at their usual table, books and parchment spread out before her, but
as soon as they appeared in the doorway her head snapped up; her eyes widened and in a flash she
had gathered all of her things to her and ran up to the girls dormitories. Harry and Ron watched
this with disbelief.

"Do we smell or something?" Ron asked aloud, to titters from some of their
classmates.

"She's been like that all afternoon," said Neville, who was sitting nearby.
"Everytime someone came through the portrait hole she'd look up, all scared."

"Like she was worried it'd be us," Harry said sadly.

"This is stupid," said Ron, and stomped over to the stairway leading up to the girls
dorms. "HERMIONE!" he bellowed up the stairs. "THIS IS STUPID, COME DOWN AND SPEAK
TO US!"

There was no reply. Everyone in the room was watching, interested. It wasn't often that
something happened to cause a split in the great Trio.

"Leave it, Ron," Harry said, walking over to him. "She'll talk to us when
she's ready."

But as it turned out, Hermione wasn't ready to speak to them at all. She didn't come
down to dinner that evening, and spent the next few days avoiding them at all costs. She sat away
from them at breakfast and in classes; when both boys tried to approach her she would look down
fiercely, blushing bright scarlet and tell them to go away in a small, squeaky voice so unlike her
own. It made no difference if they approached her individually either, it only elicited the same
result. She scurried ahead of them in the corridors, her head down. In the evenings she shut
herself up in her dormitory, Ginny bringing her food from the Great Hall. When Ron cornered his
sister and demanded to be told what was going on, Ginny politely informed him that it wasn't
her place to say, and even more politely asked him to get out of the way if he didn't want a
good jinxing. The other Gryffindor boys were just as bewildered at Hermione's behaviour, but
the other girls obviously knew what was going on and continued to giggle at Harry and Ron
frequently. Harry was getting very fed up of it - it had only been a few days without
Hermione's company but he already felt like part of him was missing. He was sure Ron felt it
too.

On the evening of the fourth day of Hermione's avoiding them Harry and Ron were once again
sitting in front of the fire in the Common Room. Harry was polishing his Firebolt with the
servicing kit he'd received from Hermione; Ron was swapping Chocolate Frog cards with Ginny.
Ginny was still talking to Harry perfectly normally, acting as if she hadn't kissed him at all.
In fact, Harry thought, it wasn't even a proper kiss really . . . it had only been on the lips,
nothing more. He was glad, as it saved them both from embarrassment.

"Is she ever going to come down from there, d'you think?" Ron said to him.

"I dunno," said Harry. He hated to think of Hermione all alone up there. "If
she'd only talk to us, tell us what's wrong, maybe we could help . . ."

Ginny exchanged a glance with Parvati and Lavender who were sitting nearby, listening in on the
conversation. The two girls nodded at her; Ginny began to gather up her cards.

"I think it's time we put you two out of your misery," said Lavender, as the girls
came over to them and sat down across from them. Ron put down his cards and Harry's Firebolt
became untouched.

"What's going on?" Harry asked them simply.

Lavender and Parvati both exchanged smirks, whereas Ginny scowled at them.

"I don't think it's funny at all," Ginny said.

"What's not funny?" Ron said. The exasperation in his voice was evident.

"Look," said Parvati. "There's a reason why Hermione doesn't want to be
around you two at the moment.

"And?"

"Truth or dare," Lavender said simply.

"Truth or dare?" Harry said.

"Yup," said Lavender. "We were playing it at the slumber party the other night .
. . it's a fun game see, you either have to answer a question truthfully or get given a dare to
do . . . that's why Ginny had to come down and kiss Harry!"

Both girls giggled at this. Harry's cheeks turned a little pink but Ginny simply
shrugged.

"So you got Hermione playing truth or dare?" Ron asked, sounding amazed.

"Yeah," said Parvati. "Only being witches, we took the truth part a bit more
seriously. If you chose truth, you had to drink Veritaserum."

"What?!" Ron yelled.

"Veritaserum?!" Harry cried. "Where'd you get it from? Don't you know how
dangerous it is?"

"Don't worry Harry, we knew what we were doing . . . Alicia's been studying it for
some extra Potions credit, and she found out that there was a less risky way of using it."

"You water it down," Ginny cut in, "and add a few drops from the Draught of Peace
to it. You know that when someone takes Veritaserum ordinarily, they'll speak the truth but
won't actually have a clue of what they're saying. They don't remember saying it at
all."

"Well," took up Lavender, "when you mix it like this, you still speak the truth
but you remain lucid. You know exactly what you're saying and you definitely remember
it."

"And you made Hermione drink it?" Harry said seething.

"Hey, we didn't make her," said Parvati, holding up her hands to try and calm
Harry down. "It was Hermione's choice."

"It's true, Harry," Ginny said softly. "I wouldn't lie to you."

Harry felt his anger subside at this. He glanced at Ron, who was looking very perplexed by the
whole thing.

"So Hermione chose truth," Ron said slowly. "What . . . what did you ask
her?"

Both Lavender and Parvati collapsed into giggles again.

"We asked her the two questions we've all been wondering about for ages," said
Lavender. "First we asked if her if she's ever actually kissed anyone, 'cause no-one
really knows what happened with Viktor Krum do they?"

"Did she kiss him?" Ron asked, a little too eagerly.

"No," said Ginny. "She hasn't kissed anyone."

Everyone caught the smile of relief that spread across Ron's face at this.

"Which leads us to the second question," Parvati said, grinning evilly. "We asked
her, out of you, Ron, or Harry, who would she rather have her first kiss with?"

There was a stunned silence from both boys at this. Ron's mouth was opening and closing
again.

"But . . . but . . ." he was saying. "You can't ask that!"

"We can and we did," giggled Lavender.

"I think I get it now," said Harry quietly. "She chose Ron, and now she's too
embarrassed to speak to either of us."

Ron looked positively delighted at this. Ginny smiled weakly at Harry, whereas Lavender and
Parvati both grinned at each other.

"Well, you're half right Harry," said Lavender. "It's true that's why
Hermione is too embarrassed to speak to either of you, but . . . she chose *you,* Harry. Not
Ron."

- - -

**Author's Note: This story popped into my head last night and I just had to get it written
down. At this point in time I don't know how long it's going to be, but please bear with
me. I've got another idea in my head too, so I'll do my best to get both this story
finished and the other idea started!**



2. A Bit Of A Mess
------------------

Disclaimer: You know the drill - I don't own any of the characters, no money is being made
etc…

A/N: Firstly I'd like to thank my wonderful Beta **Ella_Marie**, I'm indebted to you
hon! Secondly I want to thank everyone who's reviewed - your support is so encouraging, thank
you very much for all of your kind words. Lastly I'd just like to mention something that Ella
pointed out to me which I realised I haven't explained: this story has a kind of generic
timeline. That's why there are some mentions of OotP stuff (Cho) but Fred and George are still
around, and why Harry and Ron are still taking Divination. I didn't want to tackle all the
post-Phoenix stuff again, so I just made the timeline generic. Hope that clears things up a
bit!

- - -

Chapter 2 - A Bit Of A Mess

Harry's eyes widened in complete surprise; surely Lavender hadn't just said what Harry
*thought* she'd said. He looked from the two grinning gossips to Ginny, who was smiling
gently in a way he supposed she hoped was comforting. Then he turned to Ron, who looked like
he'd been hit by not one but both bludgers to the stomach. He was very white.

"Could you say that again?" Harry asked, finally finding his voice.

"Of course," said Lavender, clearly taking great delight in his request. "We
asked Hermione if she'd rather have her first kiss with you or Ron, and she chose
you."

*Right. So she* did *say what I thought she said.*

Harry was at a loss for words. Of all the things he'd considered that could be troubling
Hermione, of all the things that he'd thought might've made her not want to talk to them,
he never in a million years would have considered *this* to be the reason . . .

"She . . . she chose Harry?" Ron spoke up finally. He was very quiet.

"Merlin, I think he's got it," said Parvati.

"Oh, Hermione is going to be so angry with us," Ginny said.

"They would have found out eventually," Lavender said to her. "At least it's
out in the open now, it's got to be better now, right?"

She looked around at them for encouragement but found only shell-shock in the faces of the two
boys.

"I think our work here is done," Parvati said to her best friend. "Come on, we
still need to update our dream diaries before Divination tomorrow."

The two girls departed. Ginny sat watching the two boys in silence, torn between what to do.
Harry looked incredibly confused and she couldn't blame him - the poor boy was so incredibly
adept at some things but hopeless when it came to girls, and she didn't doubt that he was at
that moment trying to get his head around the fact that Hermione had said she wanted to kiss him.
Her brother, on the other hand, was a different case entirely. Ginny had seen through his obvious
crush on Hermione a long time ago, and she reckoned that Ron would be surprised that she knew
exactly how he was feeling at that moment. She'd had a crush on Harry for a long time, and it
had hurt to hear about his longing for Cho Chang. Not that he and Ron had ever been aware of her
listening outside Ron's bedroom door at the Burrow, that is. But she knew how he must be
feeling. To be told that the person you like doesn't want you, that they want someone else . .
.

After a few moments she left as well. She could think of nothing to say that would be of any
use. She swallowed slightly as she made her way up to the girls dorms. Now she had to tell Hermione
that they'd revealed the secret of her embarrassment . . .

Harry and Ron sat in silence for a long time. Both boys were trying to process this new
information and understand what it meant, not realising that it meant different things for both of
them. Without meaning to they both got up and made their way up to their dormitory at the same
time. Alone in the familiarity of their dorm, without the prying eyes and ears of the other
Gryffindors, it was easier to speak.

"Well," Harry said as he sat down on his bed, "that was . . .
unexpected."

"You can say that again," said Ron, pacing alongside his own bed slowly.

"Why would," Harry began, faltering slightly at the sight of Ron's unhappy-looking
face, "why would Hermione say she wants to kiss me?"

"Well I would have thought that was bloody obvious," Ron said hotly, flopping down
onto his bed and staring at Harry. "She fancies you."

"What?"

"She fancies you! She must do. That's why she picked you and . . . and not
me."

He deflated as he said this. Harry, seeing his friend’s reaction, suddenly made sense of a lot
of little things he'd noticed over the years and something clicked inside his head.

"You fancy Hermione, don't you?"

"No!" Ron said, a little too quickly. His face was fast turning the same colour as his
hair.

Harry felt a great wave of sympathy for his best friend at that moment. He realised, sadly, that
this revelation from Hermione was yet another thing that Ron would see as Harry "beating"
him at something. In this case, it would seem that he had beaten Ron for the affections of the girl
he likes, without even knowing it.

"And what about you?" Ron asked suddenly, bringing Harry out of his thoughts.

"What about me?"

"Do you . . . do you like Hermione too?"

He asked this rather timidly, and Harry was about to reply straight away that of course he
didn't, he only saw Hermione as a friend and could never imagine her as anything else, when
something stopped him. It was true that he had never considered Hermione as anything more than a
friend . . .

*Hadn't he?*

What had that little spark of excitement been then, when he'd heard Lavender say that
Hermione had chosen him? Why did the prospect of kissing Hermione, the thing he'd been thinking
about the most since the revelation, seem like the most wonderful thing in the world?

Ron continued to stare at him, watching as Harry puzzled out his reply in his head.

*All right, let's think about this Potter. I don't fancy Hermione, do I? I mean,
surely I would have noticed before now if I did. All right, she's the girl I'm the most
comfortable around, and the girl that I can tell anything to. All right, she's the girl
that's always been there for me no matter what, but that's because we're friends,
right? And all right, she's the best-looking girl at Hogwarts by far, even better than Cho or
Parvati or Ginny, but that doesn't mean that I fancy her does it?*

Harry frowned.

*Hold on. Did I just think that Hermione's the best-looking girl around?*

Yes, he did. He realised it and found that it was not a scary thought, or a matter-of-fact
thought, but that it simply felt right. Hermione was beautiful. Part of that beauty was that she
didn't see it herself; he supposed she considered herself a bushy-haired Plain Jane, but in
reality that was furthest from the truth . . .

"I'll take that as a yes then."

Ron's voice snapped Harry back from his thoughts once again. How long had he been sitting
there thinking about Hermione? He was in a turmoil.

"I honestly don't know how I feel at the moment, mate."

Ron snorted, not believing him.

"She may not even fancy me at all," Harry said, running one hand through his hair
thoughtfully. "Maybe she just thought she'd be more comfortable kissing me 'cause
I've kissed someone before and you haven't . . ."

He realised then how awful that had sounded.

"Oh fine, throw that in my face too," Ron said, sounding very hurt. "It's not
like I haven't been trying to get girls, you know! Not all of us are famous and have girls
swooning over them left right and center."

"Ron I'm sorry, that was a horrible thing to say."

Harry didn't like the way the conversation was going. First Ron had sounded angry, and now
he'd gone and made him even more upset. He didn't think he could deal with *both* of
his best friends not talking to him.

"It's all right," Ron said finally, to Harry's relief.

"I didn't mean it to sound like it did," Harry told him. "I just can't
believe it . . ."

"Yeah. Me neither."

Looking at his best friend, Harry had to consider the whole thing from Ron's perspective. He
had to admit that, if he'd really been forced to consider it before this kissing revelation, he
would have thought that Hermione might have felt something towards Ron, not him. There was that
whole thing with the Yule Ball, and of course they bickered all the time . . . how horrible it must
have been for Ron to hear Lavender say that Hermione wanted to kiss him, Harry, more than Ron.

"Girls," Ron said, unwrapping a Chocolate Frog and biting the head off it. "I
don't get them."

Harry grinned at this, and to his delight Ron grinned back as he munched his chocolate.

"Me neither."

- - -

Ginny knocked tentatively at the door to Hermione's dorm before entering. She honestly
didn't know how Hermione was going to react when she told her what they'd done - she was
guessing anger, and probably lots of it. The dorm was empty except for Hermione, who was sitting on
her bed with lots of parchment and books spread around her, chewing on the end of her quill
thoughtfully. From the looks of the textbooks Ginny guessed it was a Potions assignment, and she
winced inwardly. It had been a potion that had caused this whole mess.

"Oh, hi Ginny," Hermione said, finally noticing her. She smiled weakly as the youngest
Weasley sat down on Parvati's bed opposite.

"You okay?" Ginny asked.

"Oh I'm fine, fine," Hermione answered, looking back down at her parchment. She
frowned.

"Um . . . you might not be in a moment . . ."

She looked back up slowly, watching as Ginny squirmed uncomfortably. She had gone rather
red.

"And why is that?" Hermione asked suspiciously.

"Well," Ginny began, holding up her arms defensively and nervously eyeing the wand at
Hermione's side, "don't get mad, but-"

"They know, don't they?"

"Um . . . yes . . ."

Hermione began to turn red herself, and Ginny braced herself for an explosion. It didn't
come though; Hermione simply covered her face with her hands and lowered her head. There was a
lengthy silence during which Ginny squirmed even more, but finally Hermione spoke to her.

"Now what am I going to do?" she said quietly, sounding utterly terrified.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. Me and Lavender and Parvati, well, it just seemed right to tell
them. You should have seen them these last few days, Hermione! They've been at their wits end,
especially Harry. . . all they've talked about is what might be wrong and what they can do to
make it better for you . . ."

Hermione spread her fingers, revealing a very weak smile.

"Sounds like my boys," she said.

Ginny smiled at this, but it faded soon after Hermione's did.

"Oh Merlin, what am I going to do?" Hermione asked her desperately. "How can I be
around them now? Either of them? Ron, with him feeling all unwanted and second-best, and Harry, now
that he knows that I . . ."

"Like him?" Ginny finished. Hermione blushed scarlet and looked down again, staring at
her Potions work which seemed so insignificant now.

"Yes. That I like him."

"Hermione, have you ever considered the fact that Harry might like you too?"

"Oh don't be silly," Hermione chided her. "He's only ever had eyes for
Cho Chang, he's never so much as considered me as anything more than a friend. Ron's a
different story, but . . ."

"How do you know for sure?" Ginny asked her, scooting forward on the bed. "That
Harry's never thought of you like that, I mean?"

"Ginny I know Harry better than he knows himself. Trust me, he'd never be interested in
me like that. Oh, he probably thinks I'm so stupid, that I've turned into another
star-struck witch who wants to be with the famous Boy-Who-Lived!"

"Now *you're* the one being stupid," Ginny scolded her. "And that's
not something that Hermione Granger does often."

Hermione laughed softly. There was silence for a moment before she spoke again.

"How am I going to talk to him, Gin?"

"I'll tell you how," Ginny said firmly, moving from Parvati's bed to sit next
to Hermione. "Just like you always have. If you know Harry as well as you say you do, then
you'll know that he won't let something like this ruin the friendship you guys have. Am I
right?"

"You're right," Hermione agreed, smiling the first genuinely warm smile Ginny had
seen since the whole kissing business had reared its head. "It's still going to be
awkward, though."

"Didn't say it wouldn't be."

- - -

Harry was very nervous as he and Ron dressed the next morning, and he couldn't make the
nerves go away. He'd lain awake until late in the night, thinking only of one thing - Hermione.
His talk with Ron had made him consider his feelings towards his female best friend carefully.
He'd discovered that they were a lot more complicated than he'd thought - he could make
head nor tail of what was going on inside him at the moment. He still wasn't sure what to do;
part of him thought that the best thing to do, all things considered, was act as if nothing was the
matter and hope that things between the three of them would go back to normal. As sensible as this
had sounded to him at first, he was growing to dislike it more and more.

*Why?* The voice inside his head had piped up again. *Because you like her too, isn't
it?*

Harry told the voice that he couldn't just suddenly fancy Hermione after one night of
mulling things over.

*Maybe you've liked her for much longer than you realise,* the voice told him.
*You've had this wonderful girl right in front of you for years, and you've been
oblivious to her . . .*

Maybe, Harry reasoned. Maybe. But not definitely. There was no way of knowing that Hermione
really did fancy him, after all, all she'd admitted to was wanting to share her first kiss with
him.

*Normally when someone wants to kiss someone, they like that someone.*

Shut up, Harry told the voice.

*You'll thank me later,* the voice finished.

He sighed. What was he going to do? If Hermione really did like him, could it be possible for
them to be a couple? He knew for a fact that he was a disaster with girls, as he'd found out
with Cho. How would he even begin to bring it up with her? And if not, how would they be able to
stay friends comfortably? All three of them, for that matter? The revelation had obviously upset
Ron, and Harry had a feeling that Hermione, being infinitely smarter than him, must have realised
Ron's feelings towards her long ago. She must know that Ron had been stung by her
admission.

"Any sign of her?" Ron asked as they entered the Common Room.

"No," Harry replied, scanning the room. "Maybe she's down having breakfast
already?"

"This is a bit of a mess, isn't it?" said Ron as they made their way down to the
Great Hall.

"Bit of a mess, yeah."

Hermione wasn't in the Great Hall. Harry was rather quiet as he and Ron munched their way
through waffles; Ron seemed eager to avoid the subject now that there were others around and talked
animatedly about the Ravenclaw/Hufflepuff match, now only a few days away that weekend, with Fred,
George and Angelina. Fred and George were taking bets and Ron was deliberating carefully; both
Houses were fielding the strongest teams they'd had for a long time, and it was widely thought
to be a very close match.

"I've only got seven Sickles," Ron was saying. "I dunno, it's taken me
ages to save them up . . . what d'you reckon Harry?"

"Huh?" Harry started. "Oh, I don't know. Ravenclaw I 'spose."

"Couldn't tempt you into making a bet could we Harry?" asked Fred.

"We'll give you very good odds," added George.

"We're offering lots of different outcomes to bet on."

"Who'll win overall . . ."

"Which Seeker will get the Snitch . . ."

"Final score . . ."

"First Chaser to score . . ."

"I get the idea," said Harry, grinning slightly. "But I'll pass,
thanks."

"Ron? Made your mind up yet?" Fred asked him.

Ron's tongue was jutting out of his mouth as he considered his options carefully; Harry
thought he'd only ever seen him concentrate harder in Potions.

"All right," he said finally. "Seven Sickles on Ravenclaw to win - Cho to get the
Snitch."

"You won't regret this, little brother," said George, scooping up the silver coins
Ron offered him.

"Yeah, must people are going with Ravenclaw," added Fred, scribbling Ron's wager
down onto some parchment.

The twins departed, making their way over to Lee Jordan who was waving a similar-looking piece
of parchment and a money bag at them. Harry drained his tea before getting up.

"Come on, it's Divination first."

Harry knew they would not see Hermione that morning; she had double Arithmancy and double Study
of Ancient Runes. After their double lesson of Divination Harry and Ron were sat in the Library
trying to research freezing spells for that afternoon's Charms lesson; Harry was having trouble
concentrating, and Ron didn't seem to be fairing much better. He was pretty sure that they both
had the same thing on their minds, yet he was afraid to bring it up again.

*"Frezescus!"* Ron whispered as he aimed his wand at his jar of ink, not wanting
to incur the wrath of Madam Pince by saying it loudly. His wand emitted a few feeble icy flakes
before quitting entirely.

"I'm doing it right, I know I am . . ."

Harry wasn't doing much better himself; his wand was emitting a more steady blast of cold
than Ron's but his ink had only become chilled rather than frozen solid.

"You know who we need," Harry told him quietly.

Ron looked back at him, thoroughly miserable.

"Yeah. But in case you haven't noticed she's still not talking to us."

Ron was still trying to get the freezing spell working when they were sat in the Great Hall once
again at lunchtime. The hall was loud with chatter and laughing; Ron had his concentrating look on
again as he determinedly tried to freeze his pumpkin juice, having progressed from his former
flakes of ice to the level of chilling that Harry had managed. The other Gryffindors soon took
advantage of this and began passing them their own goblets for him to chill; Fred and George began
advertising this new service along the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables:

"Only one knut to have your pumpkin juice expertly chilled by Ron Weasley, step right up
everyone . . ."

Ron was so determined to succeed that he forgot about eating lunch (no mean feat, considered
Harry) and took each new goblet presented to him with a growl of anger. He had drawn a small crowd
of tittering watchers, even a few Slytherins had come over, interested. As Harry ate his sandwiches
he was glad that Draco Malfoy hadn't come over; he could see the blonde-haired Slytherin
watching from his house table, pointing and laughing - he didn't think Ron would be able to
ignore Malfoy's taunts as he was so successfully ignoring the laughs of the others around him.
He couldn't help grinning a little himself though as Ron worked himself up more and more,
taking each failure as a personal insult.

With a loud volley of swearing he finally gave up, throwing his wand down onto the table where
it gave out a few more splutters of ice flakes. Fred and George led a round of applause which Ron
scowled at, pulling a plate of sandwiches towards him.

"You're pronouncing it wrong," said a familiar voice. "You need to stress the
'zes' of 'frezescus'."

They both looked up in surprise. Hermione was standing there, looking at them rather
pink-cheeked and playing with the strap of her satchel.

"Hi," she said awkwardly.

- - -

**A/N: This chapter was rather angsty I know. Apologies for another cliffhanger too!**



3. Close Yet Far
----------------

**Author's Notes:**

**1) Thank you once again to Ella_Marie, my wonderful, beautiful beta!**

**2) I apologise to anyone who's been waiting for this chapter - thank you all for the
reviews of chapter 2, I'm thrilled that you're all enjoying the story so much. I've had
terrible writer's block and it's taken me 2 months to get this chapter down - sorry to keep
you all waiting!**

Chapter 3 - Close Yet Far

"So you're talking to us now are you?" said Ron, rather nastily.

"Ron!" Harry said sharply, rather shocked at his friend's tone. Hermione cast her
eyes down and shuffled her feet.

"I'll go, if you want," she said in a small voice.

"No, don't go," said Harry. He glared at Ron who, to his credit, was now looking
quite guilty.

"Sorry Hermione," he said. "I'm not angry at you, it's this bloody spell,
I can't get it right."

She looked back up at them then, rather hopefully, and Harry smiled at her.

"Are you going to sit down then?" he asked.

There was no denying the feeling of tension between the three of them as Hermione took her seat;
she kept looking from Harry to the table to Ron and back to the table again. Harry and Ron
exchanged a look as they fought for some way to break the ice, aware that many of the other
Gryffindors were watching them with interest. Ron picked up his wand.

"So," he said, "it's *fre*-zes-*cus* then-"

A great frosty blast shot out from his wand which was unfortunately pointed towards his face; as
it dissipated a great roar of laughter rose up from the Gryffindors as they caught sight of Ron,
who's head now resembled a snowball. His stunned expression was literally frozen onto his face;
icicles hung from his ears and nostrils and chilly steam was rising from his head. The laughter
soon spread throughout the Great Hall, and there was a quick flash as Colin Creevey captured the
event on film. Harry was still in shock and he looked over at Hermione who was wide-eyed; holding
each other's gaze their shock turned into creeping smiles and then, unable to contain it any
longer, they burst out laughing along with everyone else.

"It's not funny," Ron said later as they walked towards Charms. He was still very
rosy-cheeked as he warmed up and he rubbed at his earlobes in an attempt to get some feeling back
into them.

"At least you can do the spell now," Hermione said, unable to contain her grin.

"Yes yes, very funny Hermione. You could have told me how strong it was going to
be!"

"Well I wasn't expecting you to say the incantation with your wand pointed at your
face!"

"Elementary Wand Safety, Ron," said Harry, grinning along with Hermione.
"Didn't Moody teach you anything?"

"Well actually no he didn't," said Ron. "He was locked in a ruddy
box."

They were the last to arrive at the Charms classroom and as they entered Ron was treated to
another round of applause; even tiny Professor Flitwick joined in, standing on top of his usual
pile of books. Ron scowled and sat down next to Hermione; Harry felt a small pang of . . .
something, when he realised there was no room left for him. He took a seat behind them, next to
Neville.

*Jealous already?* said that familiar voice.

Shut up, Harry told it.

The hour passed achingly slowly for Harry. He found his gaze drifting constantly to Hermione,
watching how her long hair swayed as she moved around. He had to admit that the voice was right -
he was jealous of Ron getting to sit next to her, to be so close. She'd only just begun
speaking to them again and here he was stuck next to Neville, making small talk with the
good-natured boy whilst his thoughts dwelled on his female best friend sitting a few feet in front
of them. At least he was getting the spell right; both he and Neville were successfully freezing
each new object Flitwick placed in front of them as he continually made rounds around the classroom
to check their progress and administer counter-spells when needed - Ron cheered when Lavender
accidentally froze Parvati's hand to the desk.

"What?" he said as Hermione glared at him.

It wasn't all bad though. Twice Harry looked up from his concentration to find Hermione had
been looking back at him, turning back around sharply with a fierce blush on her face when he
caught her. No-one else seemed to notice, not even Ron who was sitting right next to her. It gave
Harry yet another feeling that he couldn't quite place . . . was he happy about what was
happening? Did Hermione really like him as more than a friend after all? The fact that she had been
staring certainly suggested it . . .

*Face it,* said the voice. *Hermione likes you. You know it, I know it. And what's
more - you like her too. You can deny it all you want but you know it's true.*

For once Harry didn't shush the voice. He dwelled on it as he continued to stare at the back
of her. Ron was saying something to her, gesticulating wildly, and Hermione was listening with her
chin cupped in one hand. She brushed a stray hair away with her other hand and Harry felt a great
longing to touch that hair, to run his hands through it and be the one to smooth it away from her
face. It wasn't at all frizzy, he thought, but actually curly and rather shiny . . . he
wondered whether she used a magical shampoo or a Muggle one . . .

"Earth to Harry."

He jumped, dropping his wand which gave out a feeble little blast of cold air.

"You all right?" Neville asked him.

"Er . . . yeah, I'm fine Neville . . ."

"That's the end of the lesson, Harry," Neville said, giving him a look which said
he didn't believe that he was fine at all.

Harry hadn't even noticed that everyone else had started packing their things away. He
hurriedly gathered his things into his bag as Ron and Hermione stood waiting for him.

"Are you all right, Harry?" Hermione asked. Ron was giving him a funny look which
Harry was sure meant "I know exactly what's the matter and I'm not happy". He
sighed inwardly.

"I'm fine," he said, as happily as he could manage. "Just not looking forward
to Potions, that's all."

"Oh, don't remind me," said Ron as the three of them headed off towards the
dungeons.

"The Blood-Replenishing Potion isn't that hard," said Hermione. "As long as
you've done the homework you'll be fine. You *have* done the homework, haven't
you?"

She looked back and forth between Harry and Ron who were walking on either side of her and
raised her eyebrows at their worried grins.

"Honestly, I don't know what you'd do with more than a few days without
me."

Harry looked at Ron sharply over the top of Hermione's head; this was the first time she had
mentioned the last few days of her not speaking to them and he felt a moment of panic - what should
they say? Ron looked equally bewildered, and they both began to mumble.

"Yeah . . . well . . ."

"Um . . . yeah . . . er . . ."

Hermione seemed to have realised what she said as well for her cheeks went slightly pink and she
said nothing more about it. Instead, she began talking them through the finer points of the
Blood-Replenishing Potion. Ron even managed to crack a joke, and they were all laughing as they
walked into Snape's classroom in the cold dungeons. The smile soon faded off Harry's face
as he noticed Malfoy giving them a sneering grin as they entered before turning to whisper to
Crabbe and Goyle. Harry knew this couldn't be good. The three of them took their usual seats at
the back of the classroom, and Harry felt a rather giddy little thrill when Hermione sat between
the two boys. He realised he had a rather silly grin on his face as Hermione raised her eyebrows at
him, a puzzled smile on her lips as she regarded him. He blushed a little and began taking
ingredients out of his bag.

*Nice one Potter,* he thought. *Make it more obvious, why don't you?*

At that moment Professor Snape entered the classroom making a welcome distraction; he strode in
briskly, robes billowing out behind him, and all murmurs of conversation in the room vanished
instantly. He seemed to be in a particularly vindictive mood as he slammed several books down on
his desk and drew his wand.

"You all know your work," Snape snapped. "You have had enough preparation time to
research the Blood-Replenishing Potion. The ingredients and instructions are on the
board."

He waved his wand and the board was filled with rows of neat white instructions. Harry groaned
inwardly - it looked just as complicated as any potion he'd made in the past.

"You have an hour and a half exactly," said Snape, staring at each of them in turn.
"Start!"

Having a conversation in Snape's classroom was a risky business at the best of times, but
Harry knew that he wouldn't dare try and speak to Hermione now with the mood Snape was in, no
matter how much he wanted to. The three of them set to work along with the rest of the class,
igniting their cauldrons and carefully weighing and measuring ingredients. Harry tried his hardest
to get the potion right, not wanting to bear the wrath of Snape's foul mood, but he found it
hard to concentrate with Hermione sitting so close to him. He could smell a lovely kind of flowery
smell that he thought must be her perfume, and every now and then their arms or hands would brush
each other's as they reached for another ingredient or went to stir their cauldrons. Each time
it happened Harry felt a little shock run through him and they would catch each other's eye for
just a second, both of them pink-cheeked and grinning. Ron seemed to be concentrating too hard on
his potion to notice, to Harry's relief, but one time he looked away from Hermione to find
Malfoy grinning at them again and his stomach plummeted. Whatever Draco had in store for them, it
was going to be bad.

Finally the end of the lesson came; Harry's potion wasn't the bright tomato red of
Hermione's, more of a dark brown, but at least it wasn't as bad as Ron's which was
orange, or Neville's for that matter which was a bright shining blue. Snape was looking at the
contents of Neville's cauldron with utter disdain.

"Bring a sample to the front of the class. You will receive your mark at the beginning of
next week's lesson - not that I need to test Mr Longbottom's to know what the result will
be . . ."

He smirked as he said this and Neville flushed crimson in embarrassment as the Slytherins all
laughed.

"You may leave."

The trio carefully packed their ingredients away and made their way towards the door, finding
themselves at the back of the crowd.

"I thought you said that potion was going to be easy!" Ron said to Hermione.

"I didn't say it would be easy," Hermione replied. "I said it's not that
hard, providing you'd done the work. Which you hadn't."

"She's got a point there, Ron."

"Yeah, well . . ." grumbled Ron. "Don't see why we need Potions anyway . .
."

They laughed at this, and almost walked straight past Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle who were leaning
against the cool stone wall, obviously waiting for them as the other students filed past. Draco
still wore the sneering grin he'd been giving Harry throughout Potions.

"I see your Mudblood is talking to you again, Potter," he said.

The three of them stopped in their tracks. At Draco's taunting words Harry felt his blood
beginning to boil; Ron seemed to be too, for his hands had clenched into fists tightly.

"You watch your mouth, Malfoy," Ron said.

"What's the matter, Weasel?" Malfoy said, obviously enjoying himself. "Are
the rumours true then? Granger here had to pick out of you or Potter, and she chose
Potter?"

Hermione had gone bright red and was too embarrassed to try and say anything. Harry was furious
and opened his mouth to tell Malfoy to mind his own business but Malfoy wouldn't stop. Crabbe
and Goyle were chuckling along with him.

"I suppose I understand why though, as even Scar-Head has got a bit of money to his name,
unlike you Weasel!"

Ron roared in rage.

"You shut your mouth now, Malfoy!" Harry said blazingly.

"I'll close it whenever I want, Potter," Malfoy said coolly, regarding the
Boy-Who-Lived with distaste. Then he glanced at Hermione and, smirking, looked her up and down.

"I don't know what either of you'd want with her personally," Malfoy went on,
sneering. "I mean, some people have a thing for ugly Mudblood trolls but not me . .
."

That was the breaking point for both boys. Harry was on fire - how dare he say that about
Hermione! And still he stood there, sneering, taunting him . . .

Ron sprang at Malfoy but Crabbe and Goyle had seemingly been waiting for just that and
immediately grabbed him by each arm, using their huge size to restrain him. Ron yelled and tried to
struggle but it was no use. Harry had moved forwards as well, intent on wiping that dirty sneering
grin off of Malfoy's face, but he felt a tight tug on his arm that made him turn back. Hermione
was holding on with all her might, trying to pull him back.

"Harry, please, don't!" she said in that small squeaky voice she'd been using
the last few days. She looked like she'd never been so embarrassed in all her life.

"That's right Potter, listen to your little girlfriend. I saw the way you two were
giggling at each other in the lesson!"

Harry's cheeks flushed at this, despite his anger. He didn't want to see what Ron's
reaction to this was.

"I've been wondering what you see in her, Potter," Draco went on, one hand sliding
surreptitiously towards his wand. "Have you ever heard of that Muggle term the Oedipus
Complex? Your mother was a Mudblood too, wasn't she? Maybe that's why you like Granger so
much . . ."

Harry had never felt so angry in his entire life: it felt like red-hot lava was flowing through
his veins and a red haze had clouded his vision. He shrugged off Hermione's grip and drew his
own wand, seeing Malfoy's already in his own hand and ignoring the shouts of Ron, Hermione and
the other students who had gathered to watch. He would not hurt Malfoy, no, he would humiliate him
just as Malfoy had done to him . . . at once the air was filled with the sounds of duelling:

*"Tarantallegra!"*

*"Diffindo!"*

Harry cried out as Malfoy's Cutting Curse hit him across his shoulder, slicing open his
uniform and drawing blood from underneath. At the same time Malfoy began to do an odd sort of jig,
his legs dancing crazily underneath him. But he was not done. He raised his wand again, taking aim
unsteadily as his legs continued their own little five-step beneath him.

*"Conjuctiva!"* Malfoy shouted.

*"Protego!"*

Harry was too fast for Malfoy; his Shield Charm reflected the Conjuctivitus Curse right back at
Draco who cried out in surprise. What should have been a hilarious sight - Malfoy stumbling around
blindly with his arms out in front of him, his legs still doing a crazy jig - was deadly serious as
Harry approached him, his wand raised. His anger still burned.

*"IMMOBULUS!"*

Harry was paralysed; Malfoy had also frozen still, one leg bent in mid-air at an unusual angle.
Snape was standing in the doorway to his classroom, wand raised, looking the angriest Harry had
ever seen him.

"WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?"

Not waiting for a reply, he strode over to Malfoy and uttered two quick counter-curses. Crabbe
and Goyle released Ron just as Snape lifted the Immobulus Charm holding the two boys.

"ANSWER ME!"

"It was Malfoy sir, he started it!" Ron said hotly. "He was calling Hermione
horrible names!"

"Potter attacked me, sir!" Draco said. "I was only having a joke with them but
then he just pulled his wand out! I had to defend myself, sir!"

"You liar!" Harry shouted.

"SILENCE!" Snape roared.

He surveyed them all viciously and then turned to Harry.

"I would have thought that by now, Potter, you would have learned that this school does not
permit fighting or using magic in the corridors. AND I CERTAINLY DO NOT PERMIT IT OUTSIDE MY
CLASSROOM!"

He glanced at Harry's bleeding shoulder.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor. You will serve detention with me tonight, Potter. Be here
at seven o'clock. Now all of you, move along!"

- - -

It was a little after one in the morning when Harry clambered painfully through the portrait
hole. Snape had made him clean all of the first year's cauldrons, most of which had contained
the burnt-on remains of some foul-smelling mixture; now Harry's hands were raw and bleeding in
several places, and his arms felt ready to drop off. More than anything he wanted to crawl into
bed, but that thought left him when he caught sight of the sleeping form next to the fire.

The common room was dark, lit only by a few candles at this late hour and the light of fire
which was now burning low in the grate. Hermione was slumped in her usual armchair next to the
fire, a book open on her lap and Crookshanks curled up at her feet, also asleep. Harry made his way
over to her quietly and felt his breath disappear as he looked at her sleeping so peacefully; the
firelight flickered and danced over her skin and gave a soft red glow to her hair.

*She's beautiful,* he thought.

It was at that point that Harry knew he could no longer deny his feelings for Hermione.

*I told you so,* said the familiar voice in his head.

"Yes, you did," Harry said very quietly. He smiled. He would have been happy to sit
and watch Hermione sleep a bit longer, but he knew he should wake her up. He reached out and gently
shook her arm.

"Hermione, wake up . . ."

She stirred and then smiled sleepily at him, pushing herself up in the chair.

"Harry," she said softly, still sounding half-asleep. "What time is it?"

"I don't know for sure. It's gone one o'clock."

She blinked a few times groggily and then caught sight of his hands; instantly she was wide
awake and fretting.

"Oh Harry look at your hands!"

"I've had worse . . ."

"Sit down."

Hermione reached over the side of her chair and picked up a white cloth bag as Harry sat down on
the sofa. She got up and then knelt down in front of him, rummaging through the bag until she found
what she was looking for. Harry recognised the magical swabs from his many visits to the Hospital
Wing; peering into the bag he could see an assortment of other bits and pieces used in healing.

"I was worried Professor Snape would hurt you," Hermione said softly, frowning as she
examined Harry's hands.

"It wasn't him personally, it was the first years' cauldrons . . . since when did
you start learning to be a Healer?"

"Since I realised you weren't going to stop getting hurt."

She grinned at him as she said this and Harry chuckled.

"So I've got my own personal nurse?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him.

"If you even think of mentioning something about a uniform . . ." she said
warningly.

"Never crossed my mind."

That had Hermione chuckling softly herself as she pressed the swabs onto the most badly damaged
areas of Harry's hands. Harry winced as they immediately began to sting.

"Sorry, I should have warned you . . . oh Harry this is awful, they're red
raw."

"It's not that bad, it just stings a bit . . ."

Harry then realised something.

"Hermione . . . is that why you were waiting up? Just to see if I was all right?"

He wasn't sure in the dim light of the fire but he thought she was blushing again. He waited
until she was looking at him again.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, Harry," she said, smiling gently. They held each other's gaze
for a few moments until Hermione gave a little start and remembered what she was doing.

"Right . . . this is probably going to sting a bit more, sorry . . ."

She took out her wand and pointed it at each of the swabs, muttering a quiet incantation. The
swabs began to glow with a soft yellow light and at first Harry felt a rather sharp stinging
sensation, but it soon turned to a cool feeling that began to spread through his hands and the pain
began to fade. He soon could see new skin growing over the raw, shining areas.

"I'm nowhere near as good as Madame Pomfrey so this will take a bit longer, I'm
sure she could do this in a jiffy . . ."

"This is fine, Hermione."

Harry felt rather peculiar at that moment. He was aware of how close Hermione was to him; there
was a funny sensation fluttering around in his chest making him feel almost giddy . . . it was
similar to the rush he felt when he was on his broom, but different . . . and he was scared too.
There were many rather awkward questions he wanted to ask her, and he was scared of what the
answers might be. And he was scared that at any moment he might turn into a babbling idiot. So he
said nothing; he simply gazed at Hermione as she worked on his hands. She was frowning in
concentration and, endearingly, the tip of her tongue was poking out of the corner of her
mouth.

"There," she said a few minutes later, and removed the swabs. She took Harry's
hands in her own and turned them over, inspecting her work. "Good as new."

Harry closed his hands around Hermione's, which seemed to fit in his perfectly. They were
smooth and warm.

"Thank you, Hermione. I mean it."

"It's all right, Harry."

She looked at him for a moment and then her head tilted to one side slightly.

"I do wish you hadn't started duelling with Malfoy," she said wistfully.

Her tone took Harry by surprise; earlier that evening, when her embarrassment had faded, she had
been very annoyed with both him and Ron for fighting with Malfoy.

"Did you hear what he called you, Hermione?"

"Yes," she said, still softly. "'Ugly Mudblood Troll', as I recall. But
you knew he was only trying to get you in trouble. Merlin, it's normally Ron who's the
hot-headed one!"

"I know," Harry said, bowing his head slightly. "But I won't having him
saying things like that about you! You're anything but a . . ."

"Ugly troll?"

"You're beautiful."

Harry felt a moment of panic; he wasn't sure if he'd actually said that or not. He was
aware that he was still holding Hermione's hands, for her grip tightened.

"Do you really mean that?" she said, so softly it was almost a whisper.

The panic fought with the fluttering desire in his chest and lost.

"Yes . . . you're the most beautiful girl at Hogwarts. By far."

Her eyes had a sparkle dancing in them and her lips parted ever so slightly as if she wanted to
say something but couldn't quite muster the courage. At that moment Harry wanted nothing more
than to kiss those lips, the lips belonging to his best friend. He could feel the tension in the
air between the two of them. He was sure she felt it too, for he could see for certain now that her
face was flushed. His own face, he realised, was probably as red as the potion Hermione had made
earlier that day but he didn't care. But, despite being Gryffindor through and through, Harry
could not quite muster the courage to lean forward and do what his heart desired. Before he could
do that, he needed to know. He needed to ask her the question that had plagued him and, he thought,
Ron, ever since the fateful news had come from Lavender's mouth.

"Hermione . . . why did you . . . why did you choose me?"

He tensed as soon as the words left his mouth, knowing that they could destroy this intimate
moment between them. Hermione looked down at her lap for a few moments and then gazed back up at
him; to Harry's relief she was still smiling and the pinkness was still in her cheeks.

"Ron likes me," she said.

Harry frowned slightly - that wasn't anything he thought she might say.

"OK," he said slowly.

"I don't like him."

Harry's eyebrows raised at that, and Hermione giggled.

"I *do* like him, of course, just not in the same way that he likes me. He's my
best friend."

"And . . . what about me?"

She looked down again for a moment. Her hands had begun to shake slightly and Harry realised
that Hermione truly did have the heart of a Gryffindor for when she spoke next he could tell she
was using all the courage she possessed.

"You're my best friend too Harry, of course . . . but I feel for you as . . . more than
a friend. And there's no-one who I’d like to have my first kiss with more than you."

Harry didn't know how to describe how he felt; her words seemed to warm his heart and he
felt his affection for Hermione surging forwards. The times in his life when he had been wanted and
needed and indeed, desired, had been rare, and here was the most beautiful girl in the world who
was his best friend in the world telling him that he was all of those things to her. She was
looking down again shyly, something so unlike Hermione who was normally so confident. She was
showing Harry a private side of herself and Harry felt pride that she had showed it to him; he knew
then he would do the same. He would show her all of his shyness and his worries, but most of all he
would show her his affection.

He waited for her to look back up at him. When she did he could see nervousness in her eyes,
afraid of rejection and the destruction of friendship. He smiled warmly at her.

"Hermione . . . I feel for you as more than a friend too."

The fear in her eyes vanished and a smile played across her lips; tentative but promising.

"And . . ." Harry went on, feeling his nerves beginning to make their presence known
again, "there is nothing I would rather do now than kiss you . . ."

Another few moments of silence passed between them, their gazes locked together. Then,
agonisingly slowly, Harry began to lean forwards towards her. His panic flared again as he thought
*oh no what if she doesn't move what if she doesn't want me to kiss her now and I just
look stupid and Merlin it'll be so awkward and then* but then she began to lean forwards
towards him too, their eyes never leaving each other. Exhilaration coursed through Harry as they
drew agonisingly closer to each other . . . they were almost touching now . . . Hermione had closed
her eyes so he did the same . . . their noses brushed each other softly . . . he could feel the
bangs of her hair tickling his forehead . . . he could feel each of her breaths on his mouth, long
and ragged . . . just as their lips were about to brush one another . . .

CRASH!

They jerked apart suddenly, turning to the source of the noise which turned out to be a
red-faced Neville in his pyjamas who had knocked over a candle holder.

"I'm sorry!" he said, and Harry somehow knew that Neville had seen them about to
kiss and realised what kind of moment he had ruined. "Trevor's gone again and I thought he
might be down here and . . ."

He looked at them apologetically.

"I'll just go back to bed . . ."

They watched him scamper back up the stairs and Harry sighed in despair. The moment was utterly
ruined. Hermione had withdrawn her hands and quickly stood up, clutching her healing bag to
her.

"Hermione . . ."

"It really is rather late, Harry . . . I think it's best if we went to sleep . .
."

He could tell that she was torn between doing just that and staying right where she was. Harry
ran one hand through his hair and stood up himself. Whatever had been in the air between them was
gone and they were both feeling embarrassed. He looked at her and found himself fumbling for words;
he couldn't think of what to say . . .

*Of all the times, Neville!*

"It's all right, Harry."

She was smiling rather nervously. He wished it was the other kind of smile he'd seen only a
short time ago.

"I'll see you in the morning . . ."

"Okay . . ."

She took a tentative step or two backwards, still looking at him, and then turned and walked to
the staircase leading to the girls dormitories. She paused there and turned back to him; he
hadn't moved, and the longing Hermione felt for him only multiplied. But her courage was gone,
now drowning underneath the nerves and embarrassment brought about by Neville's untimely
entrance. She took one more look at him and then she was gone.

Standing in the flickering firelight, Harry sighed.

- - -



4. Follow Your Heart
--------------------

**A/N:** Once again, my apologies to anyone who’s been waiting patiently for this chapter.
Bloody writers block. Grr.

I’m indebted as always to Ella_Marie for her beta-ing. She rocks my world ;o)

Chapter 4 - Follow Your Heart

"Oi, Harry!"

Harry jerked awake at the sound of Ron's voice, almost instantly overcome by a wave of
grogginess. He turned his head to see the blurry outline of Ron standing next to his bed, and with
one hand fumbled on the nightstand for his glasses.

"Whassmatta?" Harry said sleepily.

"It's time to go, that's what's the matter. We'll miss breakfast if you
don't hurry up."

Harry blinked a few times, trying to wake himself up. He felt awful.

"You look bloody awful," said Ron.

"Thanks."

"What time did you finish Snape's detention anyway? You hadn't come back when I
came up to bed."

"Oh . . . late. He made me clean the first years' cauldrons."

Ron winced and rubbed the back of his head thoughtfully.

"That's a nasty one mate. It was worth it though, I s'pose - Malfoy was asking for
it, that git."

"Yeah."

Harry hurriedly got washed and dressed, listening with one ear to Ron rambling on about
today's Defence Against The Dark Arts lesson. He had no-one to blame for his tiredness but
himself - he'd lain awake thinking about what had happened with Hermione until it had become
light outside and his tiredness had overcome him. The memory of the night still gripped him: the
feel of her so close to him, their hands interlocked, their faces only millimetres apart as their
lips came so close to touching . . .

Harry shrugged on his robes and followed Ron out of the dorm, his mind still on Hermione. He was
still waking up, and as he did he was growing more and more nervous about facing her. What would
she expect of him now? Did she regret what had almost happened? And how on earth was he supposed to
talk to her about it?

"Bloody hell Hermione, you look almost as bad as Harry!"

Once again Harry was snapped back to reality by Ron. They were crossing the Common Room and
Hermione had appeared from the girls dorms, seemingly running late herself as her hair was rather
more wild than usual and there were dark circles under her eyes. She didn’t even seem to have the
energy for a retort, as she just gave Ron the most withering look she could manage. Harry was
relieved that when she looked at him that look changed to a smile, and he smiled back with as much
energy as he could manage.

"You look better than I do, if it's any consolation," Harry said to her.

"Thank you Harry," she said, treating him to another smile.

"I dunno about that," Ron said teasingly as they climbed through the portrait hole and
made their way down to the Great Hall. "It's a pretty close call if you ask me!"

"Fortunately Ronald, nobody has asked you."

Ron began to grumble at Hermione's use of his full name but his excitement for their
upcoming lesson soon had him chattering again. He failed to notice that he was the only one doing
the talking until they were seated in the Great Hall and tucking into breakfast; it was then that
he realised both Harry and Hermione had been very quiet. And, as the cogs in his brain began to
turn, he didn't think it was completely to do with them both being tired - why *was*
Hermione so tired anyway? He watched them carefully for a few moments: Harry was buttering toast
and Hermione was pouring an enormous cup of coffee. They kept glancing at each other and quickly
looking away.

"What's the matter?" he asked them, looking from one to the other. He could have
sworn that Hermione blushed slightly, but he wasn't sure.

"Nothing's the matter," Harry replied. "Why would it be?"

"You're both really quiet."

"Well I had a late night, didn't I? I'm just a bit tired."

Ron looked at Hermione expectantly as Harry munched on his toast.

"What?"

"Why are you so quiet too? I'd have thought you'd be even more excited about this
lesson than I am."

Hermione simply gave him another withering look.

"This lesson does look very interesting Ron, and I am looking forward to it. I'm just
tired too. I had . . . well, I had a late night too."

Ron thought he saw another trace of a blush then, and he noticed Harry looking anywhere but at
Hermione at this point. There was definitely something they weren't telling him. He raised one
eyebrow, looking back and forth between them again.

"What were you doing? Homework?"

"No, just reading. I, er, fell asleep in the Common Room . . ."

"And then I woke her up when I got back from detention," Harry interjected, looking at
Hermione tentatively before looking back at Ron. "It's my fault she's tired, I kept
her up longer because my hands were hurt from cleaning those cauldrons. Hermione fixed
them."

"It's not your fault Harry, you didn't make me stay up."

"Yes it is, if I'd just left you where you were you would have got more sleep
then."

"It's fine honestly - I'm glad you did."

Hermione was staring at him emphatically as she said this. Ron had no idea of the double meaning
in her words but Harry got it loud and clear. His mouth opened and closed a few times, unable to
think of a reply, until she turned back to her coffee with a soft smile on her lips. Ron watched
this interplay feeling somewhat like a stranger. Whatever had happened it didn't seem to
concern him, and he felt hurt. A very nasty thought began to creep into his head and he quickly
pushed it away - whatever had happened, he just prayed it wasn't *that.*

The rest of breakfast was rather silent.

- - -

After the Gryffindors had all filed into the Defence Against The Dark Arts classroom it was soon
filled with chatter. Harry, Ron and Hermione had taken seats at the front and now that he was
feeling a bit more awake Harry had begun talking in earnest with Ron about the Quidditch match
coming up the very next day. Hermione rolled her eyes, still unable to believe how long and into
how much detail the boys could discuss one match, and took out a book. She was doing a very good
job of being around Harry, she thought. After what had happened last night . . . they had been so
close to kissing, so close, her heart began to beat faster again every time she thought about it.
She had lain awake until first light just like Harry had, turning it over in her mind again and
again, trying to apply all of her logic and reason to it. Perhaps, she had thought, it was good
that Neville had interrupted them when he had. Perhaps it would be better if they didn't cross
the line they had skirted so close to, perhaps they should stay just friends . . .

She glanced over at him now, watching as he gestured some kind of move to Ron who was nodding
enthusiastically. Why then, despite all her logic telling her it was wrong and all her nerves
holding her back, did she want nothing more than to kiss him right at that moment?

*He even looks good after a sleepless night,* she thought wistfully.

There was a cheerful atmosphere in the room as the Gryffindors all talked. DADA lessons were now
something they looked forward to, no longer in the clutches of the tyrannical Umbridge but a rather
more likeable teacher, who at that moment walked through the door clutching a big pile of
books.

"Wotcha!" Tonks said brightly, and promptly tripped over the hem of her robes sending
her books flying everywhere. There were one or two titters from the students but not many as
they'd all grown accustomed to Tonks' clumsiness; Seamus, who had quickly become very fond
of Tonks, got up and helped her retrieve her books.

"Thanks," she said gratefully as Seamus, rather pink-cheeked, handed her the last one.
He ignored the gestures Dean was throwing at him as he went back to his desk.

"Right," Tonks said, dumping the books on her desk. "Everybody all
right?"

They all answered enthusiastically.

"Good. Right then, today as you know we're carrying on with the Disillusionment Charm.
We had a good lesson last week, we talked about how Aurors like me can use the charm for stealth
and about how the charm can be used to disguise yourselves if you think you might have Dark Wizards
after you."

She winked at Harry as she said this, who grinned in return, remembering the freezing journey to
Grimmauld Place on his Firebolt.

"Now," Tonks went on, waving her wand at the blackboard where instructions and
diagrams about the charm appeared, "you all had the charm down pretty well last lesson, but I
want to see you all demonstrate it for me again before we move on to the next part. Miss Brown,
let's have you up here first."

Lavender stepped up to the front of the class and tapped herself on the head with her wand,
muttering the incantation quietly. She slowly vanished from the head down, indistinguishable from
the teacher's desk behind her. Everybody clapped.

"Well done, that was ace!" Tonks said, clapping along. Lavender reappeared with a huge
grin on her face and took her seat once more.

"Neville, let's have you next."

Neville got up and performed the charm, to more applause. One by one the entire class got up and
Disillusioned themselves to Tonks' liking, each receiving more applause. Harry was the last to
go, and felt Hermione's eyes on him keenly as he stood underneath the disguise of the charm. He
had the distinct feeling that she could still see him somehow.

"Nice one, Harry," Tonks said as he re-took his seat. "Right, five points to
Gryffindor for everyone who got it right. That'll be everyone then won't it? You guys are
doing much better than the Slytherins, that's for sure. Who are those two big blokes? Crabbe?
Goyle? They managed to make the front of their heads look like the backs, and that's
it."

Everyone had a good laugh at that.

"Well then, it’s onto the more serious nature of the Charm now."

Tonks erased the blackboard with her wand once more and gave it another flick; this time a large
diagram of a wizard appeared, along with notes and figures indicating various parts of the
body.

"It's all very well being able to perform the charm on yourselves," Tonks told
them, perching herself on the edge of her desk, "but this is Defence Against The Dark Arts
after all. You need to be aware of how Dark Wizards can use the charm for their own purposes, just
like us Aurors use it. I'm going to teach you what to look for if you suspect there's
someone near you who's Disillusioned - the charm isn't a perfect disguise, not like an
invisibility cloak."

There was some excited chattering at this.

"The notes on the board tell you what you can look for if the Disillusioned witch or wizard
is moving, but I want us to have a crack at the harder bit first - someone who's standing
still. That's when the charm works best, see, as it's normally movement that can give it
away. So here's what we're going to do: I'm going to split you into pairs. We'll
all wait outside the classroom whilst one person goes in and puts the charm on themselves and finds
a spot to stand perfectly still. Then the other member of the pair has to go in and try and spot
them. You can use any spells you think might help you, except for hexes. And I don't think I
have to tell the boys - or the girls for that matter - to behave yourselves!"

There was laughter from everyone at that. Tonks herself was grinning.

"Mark the place you think your partner is with red sparks and then we'll all come in
and see if you're right. Ok then, pairs . . ."

She quickly split them all into pairs. Harry was not surprised when Tonks put him with Hermione.
He wondered if she was thinking the same thing he was . . . they were going to be alone in a room
together again. True, one of them wouldn't be able to see the other, but still . . . he was
already feeling a little nervous. Hermione didn't seem fazed by it at all.

"Right, everyone outside. Seamus, Parvati, you're up first."

Parvati dutifully stepped back inside the classroom and shut the door. Tonks started chatting to
them as they waited; after a minute Seamus opened the door and went in, wand at the ready.

"Now this is the fun bit," Tonks said, grinning again. "If Parvati's picked a
good spot it could take Seamus a good while to find her . . ."

At that moment there was a shriek from inside the classroom, and a few seconds later the door
burst open and Seamus came dashing out, pursued by what appeared to be one of Tonks' books
floating along and hitting him on the head.

"I'm sorry!" Seamus yelled. "I didn't mean to, honest!"

"What happened?" Tonks asked, rolling her eyes.

The book stopped hitting Seamus and a few moments later Parvati shimmered back into view, book
in one hand and wand in the other, looking furious.

"He felt me up!"

"I didn't!" Seamus cried. "At least, I didn't mean to," he added
sheepishly. "I bumped into something, so I reached out to see what it was and . . . well, it
was soft."

Dean laughed first, clutching the wall for support, closely followed by Ron and soon they were
all roaring. Parvati hit Seamus with the book once more for good measure.

"I'm sure you didn't mean to Mr Finnegan, but I think you should try using your
wand rather than your hands next time. Out of interest Parvati, where were you standing?"

"Oh," Parvati said, turning a bit red. "Right in the middle, I thought he'd
just go around the edges . . ."

"No wonder I bumped into you then!"

"Just because you did doesn't mean you should grab my chest!"

"I think we'll let those two sort it out," Tonks grinned. "Dean, Neville,
you're next."

Dean entered the classroom, and a minute later Neville entered. Everyone waited quietly, anxious
to see what would happen . . . a minute passed . . . two . . . then Neville's round face peered
out from around the door.

"Um, Professor? I've found him."

"Well done Neville," Tonks said, gesturing for everyone to follow her inside.
"You're sure you've found him?"

"Y-yes," Neville said, turning a bit pink. "You said we could use any spell,
right? Well . . ."

The Gryffindors all erupted into laughter again. Standing against the blackboard, underneath
some red sparks and giving off chilly steam, was a rather frosty Dean-shaped block of ice. Due to
the charm still working there didn't appear to be anything inside the ice, but it couldn't
have been anything else.

"That's . . . inventive, Neville. You found him, at any rate. Um. What made you think
Mr Thomas was standing there?"

"The diagram looked a bit blurry," Neville said, looking at the frozen Dean worriedly.
"So I thought if he wasn't there, then the Frezescus Charm wouldn't harm the
blackboard . . ."

"Indeed," Tonks said, suppressing a grin. "Well, let's get your partner back.
Hot air, everyone."

They all directed blasts of hot air from their wands at the ice and soon enough a shivering Dean
was standing in front of them, teeth clattering loudly.

"R-r-ron," he said awkwardly through shivers. "S-s-s-sorry I l-l-aughed at y-you
y-yesterday m-mate, I-I wouldn't w-wish t-t-that on a-anyone . . ."

"That's all right mate," Ron said, remembering his self-inflicted frozen face.
"You're going to be tingling for a while yet."

Tonks herded them all back out, and Hermione conjured a blanket for Dean which he accepted
gratefully. It was Ron and Lavender's turn next; once Lavender had gone inside and disguised
herself Ron strode in purposefully with his wand at the ready.

"I feel a bit sorry for Lavender," Harry whispered to Hermione, who put her hands to
her mouth to cover her giggling. A shiver ran through her at the feel of him so close to her. The
next few minutes were spent in silence once again, Harry and Hermione snatching quick glances at
each other. There was a loud crash and some angry cursing from Ron inside the classroom, but then
silence again. After another minute Ron emerged looking triumphant.

"Tonks I've found her!" he said happily.

"Let's have a look then."

They all re-entered the classroom; there were red sparks floating roughly at head-height in the
middle of the back wall, next to a cabinet full of spare parchment and ink.

"OK Ron, let's see if you're right. Lavender, if you would."

A second later Lavender shimmered into view - standing next to the window on the other wall.

"You moved!" Ron cried, shocked.

"No I didn't," Lavender replied indignantly. "I've been here the whole
time, you walked right past me twice! I thought you'd have heard me laughing when you hit your
leg on Harry's desk . . ."

Ron turned very red as everyone laughed.

"Never mind Ron," said Tonks. "You had a good try. Right, last pair. Harry,
Hermione, you're up."

Harry followed everyone back outside and waited a minute, giving Hermione time to disguise
herself and find a place to stand. Then, steeling himself, he stepped back into the room and shut
the door.

Nothing.

The classroom looked empty. He couldn't see anything out of the ordinary - no blurry
Hermione-shaped distortions anywhere. He took a step in and exhaled the breath he'd been
holding in. He was very nervous but also strangely excited; Hermione was in here somewhere,
watching him. Waiting for him to find her . . .

He took out his wand. Where would Hermione try and conceal herself? Not any of the places the
others had been found, so that ruled out the blackboard and the window. And he doubted she'd
stand right in the middle of the room like Parvati . . .

He started to walk around the edges of the room slowly, carefully, looking for any trace of
distortion or blurring that might mean the Disillusionment Charm. He completed a circuit of the
room finding nothing (and not bumping into an invisible Hermione either), so began to wander down
between the desks slowly, gripping his wand tightly. His heart was beating rapidly now - he was
sure she was here somewhere, and close. He took another step forward, now next to his own desk that
Ron had bumped into, and stopped. A familiar smell was coming to him now, that flowery scent
he'd thought was her perfume down in Snape's dungeon.

She was here. He was sure of it.

He squinted at his desk carefully. He imagined he could hear her breathing, although very
faintly, but he could see no trace of her anywhere.

Damn, she was a good witch.

Although he wanted nothing more than to reach out and try and touch her - but nothing rude
Potter, no, not touch her like *that,* he admonished himself - he knew he wasn't allowed.
He thought quickly . . . then he realised how he could find her. He went over to the window and
drew the curtains, then went back over to the door and switched off the lights.

The room plunged into darkness. Under the veil of the Disillusionment Charm Hermione frowned in
puzzlement - what was he doing? He had been so close to her, she had felt as if his gaze had bored
right through the concealment of the charm and into her own . . . it had been very hard to control
her breathing and not give herself away . . .

*"Lumos,"* Harry's voice floated over from the doorway.

*Very clever Harry,* she thought as a beam of wand-light appeared next to the door. He
approached her once again, holding his wand high so that the light shone in a wide beam. Shadows
stretched everywhere, from the legs of the desks and chairs, from schoolbags and books and
parchment and quills, and as Harry grinned to himself a large Hermione-shaped shadow stretched away
from the empty space between his desk and his chair.

"Got you," he said aloud.

"How did you know?"

It was strange to hear her voice and not see her - he realised then how strange it must have
been for her and Ron the countless times he'd spoken to them underneath his invisibility cloak.
He lowered his wand and licked his lips nervously, scratching the back of his head. He had a strong
feeling that telling her that he'd smelled her wouldn't go down very well, even if it was a
very pleasant smell indeed.

"Just a feeling I had," he said, smiling.

He stood there looking at her for a few moments, or rather at the empty space where he knew she
was standing. Under the glow of his magical light he could see the very faint outline of her, and
he was sure that he could feel that same strange feeling in the air he'd felt the last night .
. . maybe it was because they were so close again, or because it was just the two of them in the
room again, or perhaps a bit of both . . . his nerves had risen again, aware that Tonks and the
rest of the class were outside. This wasn't the time or place to, well, he didn't know what
he'd been thinking about doing really . . .

Hermione was a bit disappointed as Harry cast red sparks above her and then went and switched
the lights back on, beckoning to Tonks to come back inside. But then again, she didn't know
what she'd expected him to do . . . he wasn't going to just go and kiss her in the middle
of a darkened defence classroom, was he?

Evidently not.

"Nice one Harry," Tonks beamed as Hermione shimmered into view and banished the sparks
Harry had cast above her. "You figured out the worst weakness of the charm - magical light. In
normal sunlight you'd be fine, but under magical light like *lumos* the charm gives away
your shadow. Good thinking!"

Harry turned slightly red at the praise Tonks was heaping on him.

"Now then," Tonks went on, "we don't have enough time switch around and do it
again, so everyone remember your partners and next lesson those who were hiding will get a chance
to try and find their partner."

"But Professor, you've just told us all how to find them the easiest way!" said
Lavender, bemused.

"You won't be allowed to use *lumos* Miss Brown, to make it fair. Now, lets use
the time we have left to look at the different things you can look for in a moving target . .
."

Even though the work was interesting Harry found it very hard to concentrate on what Tonks was
saying about the easiest ways to spot the give-away blurring of the charm. On his left Ron was
grumbling under his breath and shooting occasional dirty looks at Lavender, obviously annoyed by
his failure to find her. Harry swore he heard Ron mutter "must have moved, I know she
did" and had to stifle a laugh. On his right was Hermione, who was being the most distracting
even though she was doing nothing more than paying attention to Tonks and copying down notes. He
thought back to that moment only a short time ago when they'd been alone together in the room .
. . he'd wanted to kiss her again, even though he couldn't see her. It seemed like he
didn't even need to see Hermione for her to affect him, pushing everything else aside and
making him think only of her.

*You've got it bad,* the voice inside told him.

Haven't heard from you in a while, Harry told it.

*You know I'm right though.*

Yes, you are.

*You have to do something about it. Either kiss her or tell her you should only be friends.
And I think we both know which one you want it to be.*

Harry risked a quick glance at her, watching as she scribbled down whatever Tonks was saying,
the movement of her arm gently shaking the long curls of her hair.

*You'd better do it soon,* said the voice, sounding somewhat amused.

"You're right," he said aloud, and then froze as he realised what he'd done.
There were titters from some of the others.

"Well, I like to think so Harry," Tonks said, grinning. "Anything else you'd
care to share with us?"

Harry just shook his head, blushing. On his left Ron sniggered loudly.

- - -

Harry intended to spend the rest of the day giving some careful thought to how he was going to
resolve things with Hermione. Unfortunately their next lesson was Transfiguration, which required
all brainpower focused on the task at hand in order to avoid extra homework from Professor
McGonagall. Ron seemed to be on the same wavelength, as their was very little conversation between
them and by the end of the lesson both boys had successfully turned two small white mice into a
ruler and pencil. Ever outdone by Hermione, her desk was covered by a full stationery set
comprising pen, pencil, ruler, eraser, compass and even a desk tidy that had once been a family of
brown mice.

He was too hungry at lunchtime to think much about it; all that concentration had given him a
hearty appetite. He finally found an opportunity during Herbology that afternoon, as they were once
again split into pairs to work on some seedling Devil's Snare and Harry was paired with Neville
and directed to share a plot with Ernie MacMillan and Hannah Abbot of Hufflepuff. He worked
quietly, asking Neville for help when required and replying whenever Hannah or Ernie spoke to him,
but inside his mind was working fiercely. He wished, not for the first time, that he knew more
about girls. How would it be best to get Hermione alone? How should he begin to broach the subject
with her? To tell her that he'd like to have another try at that kiss? To tell her that
he'd like to be her . . . boyfriend?

That was a scary word for Harry, boyfriend. He seemed to have something missing when it came to
understanding girls (although thankfully Ron would freely admit to having the same thing missing).
Thinking about the couples he'd seen at Hogwarts (which included a number of his friends)
everyone else seemed to know naturally what they were doing, what to say and just generally what to
do. As much as kissing Hermione would certainly change things, he sincerely doubted it would
suddenly grant him the knowledge required to be a good boyfriend to her. And Merlin knew she
deserved a good one, someone who would care for her and give her the happiness she deserved to
have.

*I'd worry more about actually getting her to* be *your girlfriend first.*

Getting her alone, that would be difficult. Bringing the subject around to them being a couple,
well, that would be even harder. Should he just come straight out with it? Or just casually slip it
in, 'So about last night then . . .'

Most of all, even with everything he was feeling towards her, was it worth the risk? What if
they became a couple and it didn't work out . . . could they still be friends comfortably after
that? Hermione's friendship was one of the most important things in his life, something he was
sure could be made even better were they to be together romantically, but something he knew for
sure he would be unable to deal with not having at all. No matter how painful it might be, would it
be better if they were to remain friends only and not cross the line?

He groaned inwardly. He didn't think he'd encountered anything more difficult to figure
out in his life. Not even that bloody golden egg.

"Harry?"

He started, not for the first time that day. Hannah and Ernie were chatting quietly across from
him, carefully planting another seedling. Neville was looking at him, concern on his round
face.

"What?"

"You're really quiet," Neville said timidly. "Are you . . . are you mad at
me?"

"Mad at you?" Harry asked, bemused. "Neville why would I be mad at you?"

"Well, you know . . . last night. I'm sorry I interrupted you both like that, I was
just so worried about Trevor . . ."

Harry remembered Neville's untimely entrance and the brief rage he had felt towards the boy,
but then shook his head and smiled warmly.

"No, don't worry Neville, it wasn't your fault. Did you find Trevor
afterwards?"

"Yeah, he was hiding in one of Ron's socks - but don't tell Ron that!"

Harry laughed at this and the two boys were silent again for a few moments.

"Do you mind me asking," Neville said timidly, "are you and Hermione . .
?"

Harry looked around; Ernie and Hannah weren't listening, and they were far away from anyone
else to hear. He decided that might have found someone he could talk to about it.

"No," he said. "But . . . I'd like us to be, very much. But I don't know
how to go about it."

"Wish I could help," Neville said apologetically. "But I haven't had much
luck with girls, really. I think you were doing all right last night until I walked in, if
that's any help."

Harry's eyebrow raised.

"How long were you there?" he asked, grinning.

"Not long, honest," Neville said awkwardly, flushing pink. "I walked in, saw you
both and thought I'd better leave pretty quickly but then as I turned around I hit that stupid
candle holder."

Neville had always been ashamed of his clumsiness but he looked particularly embarrassed
now.

"Don't worry about it, Neville. Pass me the next seedling, would you?"

They worked on in silence for a few minutes. Across from them Hannah and Ernie got up and went
off to collect more seedlings from Professor Sprout.

"I think," Harry began, rubbing some of the soft earth between his fingers
thoughtfully, "I think it might have been a good thing you coming in when you did."

"Why's that?" Neville asked.

"I'm not sure, exactly. It's the biggest thing I'm worried about, you see.
Hermione's friendship is so important to me . . . if we became, well, more than friends" -
he turned pink himself here and Neville grinned at him - "what if . . . what if it didn't
work out, and then we couldn't be friends anymore? I don't think I could handle that, to be
honest. That's why I've been wondering if maybe you interrupting us was a good thing. Maybe
we shouldn't even try."

Harry looked across Greenhouse Three thoughtfully where he could see Hermione in the distance,
helping Justin Finch-Fletchley ward off a particularly lively seedling that was attempting to snake
it's tendrils around Justin's neck.

After a few moments Harry turned back to Neville. He was patting the earth down on his seedling
carefully.

"What do you think, Neville?"

Neville looked at the earth for a few moments and then turned to Harry. He spoke quietly.

"You know about . . . my mum and dad, Harry."

Harry nodded silently - he wouldn't wish their suffering even on Malfoy.

"I don't remember much about them before the . . . the torture. I was only a baby. But
Gran has told me lots. I asked her once how they met, and it was here at Hogwarts. They were
friends before they were anything else, and dad had the same worries you have now. He asked Gran
what to do, and she told him to follow his heart."

Harry said nothing, letting Neville carry on at his own pace.

"They followed their hearts, and they were happy. Gran has always said to me that when I
find someone I care about, that I should follow my heart just like mum and dad did. I think you
should do the same thing, Harry. If Hermione is in your heart, then follow it to her."

Harry didn't know what to say. He had no doubt it had taken all of Neville's courage to
talk about his parents, and he felt touched by it.

"Thank you, Neville . . ."

Neville just smiled. Ernie and Hannah came back with more seedlings, and the four students set
to work once more.

The afternoon light was beginning to fade as the trio left the Greenhouse and headed up towards
the castle. Harry was quiet, contemplating Neville's words, whilst Ron was still talking
excitedly about Justin's brush with the lively seedling. He stopped abruptly, however, at the
sight of Katie Bell coming tearing out of the castle towards them.

"Harry! Ron!" she yelled.

"Take it easy," Ron said, eyebrows raised as Katie screeched to a halt in front of
them, panting for breath. Harry would have sworn she left skid marks in the grass.

"Been . . . looking . . . everywhere for you," Katie puffed. "Quidditch . . .
tomorrow . . ."

"Yeah we know," Ron said with exasperation. "I've got a good bet
on."

Katie rolled her eyes, clutching at her chest.

"Let her get her breath back, Ron," said Hermione, looking at Katie with concern.
"Are you all right?"

"Fine," Katie nodded, starting to breath a bit more regularly. "Angelina sent me
to find you, it's a right mess this is . . ."

"What's the matter?" Harry asked her.

"Cho Chang's the matter," Katie said, still clutching her chest as her breath
returned. "Some kind of accident in Defence class, she lost all the bones in one
leg!"

"Ergh, just like your arm in second year!" said Ron.

"Don't remind me," Harry said, wincing at the memory.

"Is Cho all right?" Hermione asked Katie.

"She'll be fine, Madam Pomfrey's already given her some Skele-Grow so she'll
have her bones back tomorrow. Thing is Pomfrey says she can't do anything high-impact for two
weeks until the bones have settled, so Cho can't play tomorrow!"

"Don't say they've cancelled the match," Ron said, looking scandalised at the
thought.

"No, not cancelled, just switched. Ravenclaw appealed because now they don't have a
Seeker, so now we're playing Hufflepuff tomorrow instead of them!"

"What!?"

"But we're not supposed to play them till next month!"

"I know, I know," said Katie. "Angelina's not happy, but it's
McGonagall's orders so we've got no choice. Angelina wants us all down at the pitch
straight after tea for practice."

Any thoughts Harry had about speaking to Hermione went straight to the back of his mind.

- - -

One word kept running through Harry's mind as he trudged up to Gryffindor Tower, and that
was *ow**.* It was half past eleven, and Angelina had finally called their impromptu
practice session to a halt at eleven o'clock when Professor McGonagall came out to the pitch
and shouted at her. Harry winced; everything was aching. He was sure Angelina would have had them
out there all night, if she could. She'd run the team ragged, shouting orders and drills like a
woman possessed and as such Harry had not been the only one grumbling and moaning as team had filed
back into the changing rooms to get dressed. He'd taken the longest to change and now, dressed
in a Muggle jumper and jeans, was climbing the many stairs of the castle alone, wincing at the pain
in his protesting joints. Despite the resulting weariness and aches Harry was in a good mood; for
such late-notice the team was in good shape, and of course they would actually be playing
tomorrow.

*A Quidditch weekend and no homework,* he thought. *What could be better?*

His thoughts were answered as he stepped through the portrait hole. Hermione was sitting in her
chair by the fire again, a book open on her lap, but this time she was definitely awake. And still
in her robes and uniform. He glanced around the room and swallowed when he realised they were
alone.

Again.

A small part of his brain thought that a little odd, seeing as it was Friday night and still not
that late. But that thought was brushed aside as he walked over to his best friend. He couldn't
believe he'd forgotten about Hermione. Ever since Katie had come rushing up to them with news
of their impending match both he and Ron had been focused on nothing else. All that careful thought
earlier in Herbology, all that time considering Neville's words of advice, banished in an
instant by a Quidditch match.

He felt ashamed. And more than anything he had to wonder how Hermione was feeling. She was
absorbed in her book but evidently had heard him come in, for she looked up at him as he sat down
in the chair opposite hers. If she was angry with him, or upset, she wasn't showing it. She
seemed concerned, if anything.

"I just saw Ron," she said as he settled back into the chair. "He looked
exhausted . . . how are you doing?"

"I'm aching," Harry told her. "But I'll live, don't worry."

She smiled. Harry couldn't smiling himself; something about her doing that was infectious.
He glanced around the room again.

"Where is everyone?"

Hermione shrugged.

"All in bed, I suppose," she said. "Ron went up straight away, I could hear him
moaning about his arms all the way up the stairs. I don’t know how long I've been here on my
own actually; I wasn't very tired and this book is really good . . ."

"You think *every* book is really good."

"Not every book. You should see some of the romance ones that Lavender reads in the girls
dorms."

Harry laughed and Hermione did too, for a moment, but then her eyes went back down to her book.
She was reading again. Harry watched her for a few moments, glancing away from her to the fire and
back a few times.

"I'm sorry."

She looked up at him in surprise, brushing a strand of hair out of her eye.

"Sorry for what?"

"For earlier this evening. For Ron and me not . . . well, not paying much attention to you.
Having this match thrust on us like that, well, I wasn't think about much else . . ."

"It's all right, Harry," said Hermione, shaking her head. "I know how
important Quidditch is to you. To the both of you. I'm used to it."

He winced at that, a wince that was nothing to do with the ache in his joints. Hermione had
already resumed reading.

"It's no excuse," he said firmly. "There are some things that should be more
important than Quidditch."

She looked up at him then, regarding him thoughtfully. He leaned forwards in his chair slightly,
gathering as much courage as he could, and spoke rather tentatively.

"Some things *are* more important . . ."

Something in her expression softened as he said that, and she was biting her lip. He could tell
that her mind was whirring; she seemed to want to say something but didn't know how to start.
He hoped she said something soon, as he was at a loss for what to say next. He'd had one of
those moments just now when the right thing to say had become clear, but now it was gone.

"We need to talk," Hermione said finally.

"We so need to talk," he nodded in agreement.

She stood up and moved to the fire, rubbing her hands together slowly. He wasn't sure if he
should get up and follow her or not, so he stayed put. Best to let Hermione say whatever she had to
say, he thought.

"Did you mean it?" she asked finally, turning back to face him. He was sitting up
attentively in the chair, not slouching back. He frowned.

"Mean what?"

"What you said last night . . . about liking me as more than a friend?"

He felt the need to stand up, so he did.

"Of course I meant it," Harry said. "Why, did you think that . . . I
didn't?"

She looked away from him.

"I don't know what I thought, Harry. Today has been quite hard, you know? Putting on a
normal face whilst we've been around everyone, trying not to think about last night . .
."

"I know," he told her. "It's been hard for me too. I've . . . I've
thought about you a lot today. I wasn't even sure how or when to try and talk to you about it .
. . oh, I'm sorry Hermione, I'm so bloody useless at this!"

He said this despairingly.

"It's not your fault," she told him softly. "In case you hadn't noticed,
this isn't exactly familiar territory for me either."

He looked into her eyes. Merlin, they were so *brown* . . .

"I'm scared, Hermione."

She took a step closer to him.

"Me too."

"I'm *really* scared," he told her, finding it becoming easier to find the
right words. The right words, he realised, were honest ones. All he had to do was tell her the
truth; the truth about what he felt, and what he was scared of. "Meeting you and Ron, well,
it's the best thing that's ever happened to me."

Her smile lit up her face, and once again he found himself smiling too. For a moment.

"We've both seen couples at school. They don't always work. If we were . . . a
couple . . . and it didn't work . . . what would happen to our friendship? Hermione, I
don't ever want to think about a time when I don't have your friendship. It's so
important. It's *the* most important thing . . ."

"Harry," she said softly, and gently reached up and stroked his hair with one hand.
The feel of it sent a kind of electric spark all the way down through him.

"I'm afraid of exactly the same thing."

She had seemed so confident to him for a moment then, the way she had come forward and stroked
his hair, but he could hear the fear in her voice when she said that. In a strange way it comforted
him. He wasn't alone in this.

"There's a good chance that our friendship could be over, if things went bad," she
told him. "I've thought about it a great deal today. I'm sure that there's an
equally good chance that it could survive, too, but we have to consider what we'd be putting at
risk if we . . . made a change."

She looked down at the floor again, for a moment, then back up at him and held his gaze
firmly.

"We can stop now," she told him. "Before anything happens. We could just forget
about this and be friends, but we'd have to stop right now. Because something *is*
happening . . ."

He nodded. He stepped right up next to her and tentatively took her hands in his own, once again
marvelling at how well they fit into his own. If there was ever going to be his defining moment as
a Gryffindor, he thought, this was it.

"I don't want to stop," he told her.

"No," Hermione said, shaking her head. "Neither do I."

Looking into her eyes, Harry realised that the time for words was over.

Their lips met then, for the first time. Softly, tentatively, they brushed together, at first
afraid to take it further and deeper, but after a few moments they both moved. Harry drew Hermione
to him, his arms encircling her slim waist and her arms in turn snaking around his neck, and
Hermione opened her mouth to him. Their tongues met one another, the movement gentle. His eyes were
tightly shut but Harry absorbed every sensation; the warmth - and yes, the wetness - of
Hermione's mouth, the softness of her lips, even the gentle movements of their heads as the
kiss progressed. That wonderful tingling he'd felt when she'd stroked his hair seemed to
fill him, and he was very aware of how tightly Hermione's shapely body was pressed to him. More
than anything, though, the kiss just felt right. Nothing he'd done in his life had ever felt
more right than this.

They both broke the kiss at the same time. Harry opened his eyes once more to find
Hermione's own gazing up at him, a slightly glazed look in them.

"Oh my," she said dreamily.

"Wow," was all he could come up with. She giggled at that, anyway.

"I knew kissing was supposed to be nice," she said, still giggling, "but I never
thought it would be like *that-*"

"Is that a good thing?" he said teasingly.

"It's a very good thing, Harry."

He no longer felt any of the aches in his body. He was wide awake and focused only on the
beautiful girl in his arms. The beautiful girl that happened to be his best friend.

"Are we . . ?"

"A couple, Harry? I think we are."

"Good."

He leant down for another kiss then, and it was no less wonderful the second time round. No
longer tentative they kissed with a great intensity, Harry trailing one hand through her hair,
marvelling at how soft it felt, Hermione's fingers moving on his neck, tracing patterns across
his bare skin. He had no sense of time. Neither of them seemed to want to end the kiss. Any kind of
coherent thoughts had left his brain long ago, all he registered was Hermione; her lips, her mouth,
her hands . . .

"Hermione do you know wher-"

Ron's voice broke them apart suddenly. Harry looked across to the stairs leading up to the
boys dorms where Ron was standing, white-faced and staring in shock at the two of them together.
Harry still had an arm around her waist; Hermione too seemed frozen as her arms were still around
his neck but she was staring at Ron too, looking terrified.

"Ron . . ." Harry began, finally finding his voice, but Ron simply gave a little shake
of his head and turned and fled up the stairs.

"Oh no," Hermione said quietly. He turned back to her; she was blushing a furious red,
and he had no doubt his cheeks were giving off the same heat.

"This isn't going to be good."

- - -

**A/N:** Dum dum dum . . . another cliffhanger, I know, but how else am I gonna get you to
read the next chapter? Coming soon in the fifth and final chapter of Girls Night In: an upset Ron,
the exciting conclusion and . . . Quidditch!



5. Truth And Consequences
-------------------------

**A/N:** As always, I owe a huge debt of thanks to Ella_Marie for being my beta and working
her magic on my stories. I recommend you all read her fics, as they’re fantastic! This story is for
her.

As usual, my apologies to anyone who’s been waiting for this chapter. Thank you to everyone
who’s reviewed, I enjoy reading all your feedback.

Girls Night In

Chapter 5 - Truth And Consequences

It should have been one of the happiest days of his life, Harry thought sadly, as he lay under
the covers of his bed in the sixth-year boys dormitory, bathed in the soft light of the sun coming
in through the window. He had awoken about twenty minutes earlier, and in his rather groggy
early-morning state it had taken him a moment to remember why there was a huge grin plastered on
his face and a warm feeling in his chest - a rather strange feeling compared to the sharp pains of
sorrow he usually carried around with him, threatening to flare up whenever memories of Sirius or
his parents came to him. He had lain there, snug in the warmth of his blankets, remembering the
words that they had spoken to each other and the feeling of her kisses and holding her, excited at
the prospect of the many more kisses he hoped were to come. But his happiness had quickly turned
bittersweet as he remembered what else had happened.

Ron.

The look on his face, so white he could have been mistaken for one of Hogwarts' resident
ghosts, had been pure shock and terror. There had been no sign of anger, which had worried Harry
the most as he watched his red-haired best friend bolt back up the stairs. He was sure that there
would be anger, and plenty of it, but only if Ron decided to speak to him . . .

*"I'd better go and talk to him," Harry said, letting go of Hermione
reluctantly.*

*"I don't think he's much in the mood for talking."*

*"I know. But I'd better try."*

*Hermione nodded. She had regained a little of her composure, but Harry could still see the
same look of guilt in her eyes that was shining in his own.*

*"We've really hurt him, haven't we?"*

*"I think so," said Hermione. "Oh, what a mess."*

*"Hey!"*

*"Well, not all a mess . . . "*

*She reached up (when did he get so tall, she wondered?) and gave him one last kiss.*

*"Good luck," she said, running one hand through his hair. "Meet me in here
before breakfast, OK?"*

*"Okay."*

*He squeezed her hand affectionately and then she was gone. He turned to the stairway leading
to the boys dorms and, steeling himself, went up to the sixth-year dorm at the very top of the
tower. It was dark inside, lit only by one small lantern in the corner, and punctuated by the deep
snores of Dean. Neville and Seamus didn't snore, but Seamus was a very messy sleeper; as Harry
closed the door he could see one of Seamus' legs sticking out from underneath the drapes of his
bed at an unusual angle. The drapes were drawn around Ron's bed and he could see his
friends' silhouette laying still, but he had to be awake.*

*"Ron?" he said, quietly enough so as not to wake the other boys up.*

*No answer.*

*"Ron, I know you're awake. Please talk to me."*

*There was no sign of movement from Ron. Harry sat down on the edge of his own bed and stared
at the drape forming a barrier between them. He wanted to rip it down but didn't want to cause
a commotion and wake the others up.*

*"Ron, I'm sorry. We both are. This isn't the way I wanted it to
happen."*

*In the silence that followed Harry realised that he didn't actually know how he had
wanted Ron to find out about him and Hermione. With a great amount of guilt, he realised he had
given no consideration to Ron's feelings at all . . .*

Harry turned over and looked at Ron's empty bed. It had been empty when he had woken up; it
was still fairly early but the only other occupant of the room was Neville who was still asleep. No
doubt Seamus and Dean were already at breakfast, enjoying the excitement of the upcoming match.

*Ron's my best friend too,* Harry thought grimly. *He and Hermione both . . . the
three of us, that's how we work. And I ignored his feelings completely.*

He was ashamed of himself. Hadn't Ron even admitted to him, so to speak, that he had
feelings for Hermione himself? In this very room, earlier in the week when this whole truth-or-dare
revelation had been brought to their attention by the girls?

*I was so worried about ruining my friendship with Hermione that I didn't even consider
the possibility of it could mess things up with Ron too. Humph. Some best mate I am.*

His stomach rumbled, which made him finally leave the cosiness of his bed. The thought that
Hermione was probably waiting for him downstairs was a great comfort; they were in this together
after all. Perhaps Ron would listen to her, as he obviously didn't want to hear from Harry at
the moment.

Harry picked up his glasses from their spot on the nightstand next to his little model of a
Hungarian Horntail, which was napping peacefully in a patch of sunlight.

"All right for some, isn't it," Harry muttered as he set about getting dressed. He
chose the same jeans he wore the night before and then pulled on a long-sleeved t-shirt. It
didn't matter much what he wore (not that he had a lot of choice, as most of his limited Muggle
wardrobe were still cast-offs from Dudley) as he would be changing into his Quidditch robes before
long. Stashing his wand in one pocket he set off, equally sombre about Ron and aglow about
Hermione, but only got to the foot of the stairs before he was stopped in his tracks.

Hermione was waiting for him, talking to a gleeful-looking Ginny, and she was a vision.

She hadn't exactly dressed up or anything, though. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail
- not something she did often - and she was wearing the same jeans she'd had since the start of
fifth year and a bright red cardigan she'd had since the third year, only now it accented the
obvious development she'd undergone in the chest area . . .

*Stop staring at her breasts, Harry.*

It was the first time that rather familiar voice had addressed him by his name; the shock of it
brought him back out of his reverie. Hermione looked just like Hermione always did, but Harry had
never thought she looked more beautiful.

He walked over, aware of the rather silly expression on his face, and found both Hermione and
Ginny giggling uncontrollably. He had no doubt he had just been the subject of a very girly
conversation.

"Morning Harry," Ginny said, grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

"Good morning Ginny."

He turned from her to Hermione. There she was, right there, and there was Ginny, obviously
waiting to see them kiss for her grin had grown even wider.

"Good morning Harry."

"Good morning," he said shyly. "You, um, you look nice . . ."

"Thank you. I thought red because, you know, Gryffindor."

He had the distinct feeling that Hermione was waiting to see if he'd kiss her in front of
Ginny too. He hoped this wasn't some kind of boyfriend test; it wouldn't do to fail on his
first day . . .

Ginny was now rocking back and forth on her feet. Harry looked into Hermione's eyes, his
awkwardness and uncertainty plain to see, and was relieved when the look in her eyes said
*it's all right.* That was all he needed. He leaned into her and they brushed their lips
together softly, tenderly. When he opened his eyes again Hermione had that rather glazed look again
and Ginny was squealing with delight.

"You two are the cutest!" she said happily.

"Thanks, Gin."

Harry had gone rather red.

*This is going to take some getting used to,* he thought. Kissing Hermione was something
new, and kissing her in front of other people was even more new. And here was something else new,
as he felt her hand slip comfortably into his own as the three of them began to make their way down
to the Great Hall, Hermione picking up her scarf as they went. There weren't many other
students about, but the few they passed all seemed to notice the couple walking together, some
regarding them with grins and others with looks of surprise. Ginny still wore the biggest grin of
all.

"Everyone keeps looking at us," Harry said to Hermione as they passed a suit of armour
he swore had turned to gawk at them.

"I know," Hermione said, shooting a stern gaze at the suit of armour which hurriedly
turned its head back with a rusty squeak, trying to look innocent. "But it's only to be
expected, Harry."

"I had the same thing when I got with Dean," added Ginny, sagely.

"Why did you two break up, anyway?" Harry asked as they passed along a corridor on the
fourth floor.

"He was nice enough," Ginny said, shrugging, "but all he ever talked about was
that Muggle sport, football. I couldn't handle it. Quidditch would have been fine, but it was
all 'West Ham' this and 'West Ham' that."

They walked on, Harry holding a tapestry aside so the girls could step through first.

"How come you don't like football, Harry?" Ginny asked, her voice echoing slightly
as they walked down the passageway behind the tapestry. "I thought that all Muggle-raised boys
were mad about it."

Harry hung his head for a moment.

"Well Gin," he said, "I, uh, never got to watch it or play it. I was in a
cupboard."

He felt Hermione's hand squeeze his own tightly; Ginny turned bright red in
embarrassment.

"Oh Harry I'm so sorry," she said. "I didn't think . . ."

"It's all right Ginny, don't worry about it. I'll take Quidditch over football
any day."

The silence that followed them down the next few corridors was rather uncomfortable. Hermione
finally broke it when they reached the top of the grand staircase in the entrance hall, unable to
hold back the question any longer.

"Harry? Did you . . . did you talk to Ron last night?"

Harry shook his head sadly.

"He wouldn't speak to me. I know he was awake, but he wouldn't answer me."

"My brother can be such an idiot sometimes," Ginny said crossly.

"He has a right to be upset," Hermione said. "This can't be easy for
him."

"No reason to be a prat though," said Ginny.

"I don't think he wants to speak to me," Harry said to Hermione, "but he
might speak to you? It's worth a try."

"I'll go and see," Hermione said, giving his hand another squeeze as the three of
them entered the Great Hall. It was very crowded and noisy with the buzz of breakfast conversation,
but that buzz intensified as people noticed Harry and Hermione holding hands and soon many people
were craning their necks to see, this new gossip spreading like wildfire along the house tables.
Hermione propelled him along to the Gryffindor table purposefully and there at last they found Ron,
sitting further down the table than usual next to Fred and George and looking very glum. He looked
up slowly as he noticed the increase in noise and his sad expression turned to a scowl as he
spotted Harry and Hermione with their hands linked together.

"I think," Ginny said delicately, "that it might be best if I go and have a word
with him first."

Without waiting for an answer she walked off towards her brothers. Harry and Hermione took seats
opposite each other and began buttering toast; Harry, trying to watch Ginny's progress as
discreetly as he could, didn't pay much attention to what he was doing.

"Harry, you're spreading marmalade on your sleeve."

"What? Oh, bloody hell."

Hermione hid her grin as she watched her boyfriend wipe his sleeve hurriedly with a napkin.

*Boyfriend,* Hermione thought. *It's got a rather nice ring to it.*

"Calm down," she told him.

"I'm trying, honestly," Harry said, giving up on the marmalade and biting into his
toast. "I just wish Ron would have spoken to me. This is so awkward. And the match is in less
than an hour! How are we supposed to play as a team if our Keeper is being all sulky?"

Hermione bit her lip thoughtfully.

"We both need to talk to him before the match, that's for sure. I wonder how
Ginny's getting on?"

They both looked over then. Ginny was saying something emphatically, waving her arms about, and
then Ron clearly said something very nasty to her; Ginny got up and left, a scowl on her face, and
Fred and George immediately began berating Ron for whatever he'd said to their sister. George
even leaned over and clipped Ron around the ear.

"Honestly!" Ginny said, taking a seat next to Hermione. "I know he doesn't
mean it really, but where my brother gets that language from I don't know."

"No luck then, I take it?" Harry asked.

"In one ear and out the other," Ginny said irritably, helping herself to eggs and
bacon. "I told him how you both want to talk to him and work this out, but he wasn't
having any of it. Then he told me to sod off and mind my own business."

"Is that all he said?" Hermione asked sceptically.

"Well, no," said Ginny, between mouthfuls of bacon. "His anger got the better of
him - let's just say he deserved that smack George just gave him. The twins are both very happy
for you, by the way."

"They don't look happy," Harry said, observing Fred and George's sullen
expressions.

"They're just upset about the match," said Ginny. "They've had to call
off all the bets everyone made, now that we're playing instead of Ravenclaw. I think they were
going to make a lot of galleons from it."

Harry held his cup of tea in one hand, letting its heat warm his palm as he studied his
red-haired best friend further down the table. Ron was determinedly looking at his plate,
concentrating on his breakfast and avoiding watching them. He knew that he should be feeling over
the moon, and part of him certainly did - just a glance at Hermione, and knowing that they were
together, was enough to ignite that warm feeling in his chest. No matter how good it felt though,
this change in their relationship was still bittersweet without Ron alongside them.

He felt Hermione's hand reach out and grasp his across the table.

"It'll be all right," she said, reading his thoughts for perhaps the millionth
time since he'd met her. "You know how his temper works. He'll cool down
eventually."

"I hope so," he replied, squeezing her hand in return.

Angelina, Alicia and Katie walked past them then, heading on their way down to the Quidditch
pitch. Alicia was still munching on some toast as she went, but Katie was grinning from ear to ear
at the sight of them.

"Don't be too long, Harry," Angelina said, but with a smile of her own.

Harry couldn't help blushing.

"She's right too," said Hermione. "You'd both better get a move on or
you'll be in a rush to get changed . . . oh, Harry, here comes Ron . . ."

Ron was indeed headed their way, trailing a little way behind Fred and George.

"Nice one, Harry," said Fred.

"Knew you had it in you mate," added George.

It was Hermione's turn to blush this time, but the pinkness quickly faded as she
determinedly stood up in front of Ron and tried to bar his way. He stopped somewhat reluctantly,
giving the quickest of glances towards Harry but turning his attention to Hermione. What she saw in
his eyes was a mixture of hurt and anger, and the guilt she had been feeling went up a notch
immediately.

"Ron, this is silly, please talk to us," she said, fixing her brown eyes on his.

"Get out of the way, Hermione."

"No."

He tried to walk around her but she side-stepped so she stayed in front of him.

"Get out of the way!"

"Not until you talk to us!"

"Ron, please mate can't we just talk about this?" Harry said, rising himself. He
was aware that many students had stopped eating to watch this exchange.

Ron glared at Harry for a moment.

"I don't have anything to say to either of you," he said, and then brushed past
Hermione roughly, knocking her aside. Hermione was too shocked to do anything; Harry felt his
temper flare up but Ginny put a restraining hand on his arm.

"Leave it, Harry," she said. "At least not here, anyway."

The Great Hall was now very quiet, except for lots of whispered gossiping. Even the teachers
seemed to be watching them. Harry watched Ron's red hair disappear out of the doors and tried
to calm himself; he didn't want to get angry at Ron but he found it hard not to, especially the
way he had knocked past Hermione like that. He knew Ron would never do something like that
normally, but that coupled with his stubbornness about speaking to them was making his temperature
rise. He didn't want to blow, as a full-blown argument was the last thing they needed. They
could probably kiss their friendship goodbye if that happened.

"I'm going to talk to him," Harry said determinedly, looking at Hermione and
Ginny. "I won't let him out onto the pitch until he's heard me out and we settle
this."

"Be careful, Harry," said Hermione, and he smiled once more. She already knew what he
had been thinking about. He went around to her side for his customary pre-match good luck kiss, but
for the first time it wasn't on the cheek. A great round of applause rose up from the students
in the hall, along with some whistling and good-natured jibes shouted out too. Hermione went rather
pink.

"Come on you," Ginny said, pulling Harry by the arm who suddenly seemed rather
reluctant to move anywhere away from Hermione. "Kisses later. Quidditch now."

With a final glance at Hermione, Harry allowed the youngest Weasley to shepherd him out of the
hall and out of the castle itself. It was a lovely autumn day; the sun was shining brightly in an
almost cloudless sky but the temperature was cool, with a fresh breeze blowing in over the lake. A
steady stream of Hogwarts students were making their way across the grass to the stands surrounding
the pitch, some carrying banners and flags with them and chatting happily as they went.

"Nice weather for the game," Ginny commented.

"Uh-huh."

"I might even get to play today."

"Uh-huh."

She glanced at Harry, whose gaze was fixed firmly on the changing rooms they were walking
towards.

"Last week I snogged Malfoy."

"Uh-huh . . . WHAT?"

Ginny laughed.

"Only kidding, Harry, I had to say something to make you pay attention! Snog that awful
little ferret? Give me a break."

"Don't tease about that again, please Gin. I just went to a scary visual
place."

This gave Ginny a fit of giggles, but when she recovered she looked at Harry seriously.

"If you get him to talk, it's not going to be pleasant. I know it'll be hard to
keep your cool with him, but remember that he doesn't mean it really."

"I know Ginny. I don’t want to get angry at him. I think he has every right to be angry at
me, to be honest, but it might have to come down to shouting."

They stepped into the changing rooms, which consisted of one large central room with wooden
benches and a large chalkboard on the wall, and a metal rack which held the team's broomsticks.
Two smaller rooms lead off from either side; Ginny headed off to the room on the left, where the
girls were changing clothes. Harry swallowed and entered the small room on the right. This room
also featured wooden benches to sit on around the walls, along with some upright lockers and pegs
along each wall. Harry's scarlet and gold Quidditch robes were hanging on one of the pegs
waiting for him; Fred and George had already changed, while Ron was just shrugging on his main
robes with his back to Harry. His pads and gloves were still on the bench next to him. The three
Weasleys didn't notice his arrival.

"Bloody ridiculous, that's what it is," George was saying.

"I reckon we would've been looking at thirty galleons to split with Lee, even counting
some losses," Fred said, nodding in agreement with his twin. "If only we'd had more
time we could've worked around it and changed all the Ravenclaw bets to us."

"Twenty-four hours, no respect for the gambling community I tell you," grumbled
George.

"Will you two shut up about your stupid betting?" Ron said, sounding exasperated as he
turned to them.

"You get to keep your sickles, Ronniekins, dunno what you're worried about."

"I don't care about the money-"

Ron caught sight of Harry then and his face darkened. He turned back and began doing up his
robes.

"Harry," Fred and George said in unison, nodding at him.

Harry nodded back and approached Ron. The twins had gone respectively quiet; the only sounds
were the ruffling of Ron's robes and the slowly growing noise drifting in from outside as the
stands began to fill up.

"Ron."

Ron said nothing, finishing with his robes and beginning to strap on his shin pads.

"Ron, talk to me."

"I already told you I've got nothing to say to you," Ron said, without turning
around.

"That's a lie," Harry said. "I think you've got lots you want to say. And
I want to hear it."

"Sod off."

"Fine then, don't talk to me. But I'm going to talk to you, and you're going to
listen."

Fred and George found themselves transfixed already. Harry was serious, it seemed. He still
hadn't started getting changed yet.

"I'm sorry you had to find out about me and Hermione like that. I can understand that
you're angry-"

Ron snorted derisively.

"All right," said Harry, "not angry then, furious. I can understand
why."

"Why should I be angry?" Ron said dramatically, gesturing wildly with his arms before
moving on to strap on his other shin pad. "My best friend only went and stabbed me in the
back, what's to be mad about?"

Harry sighed.

"I know that's how you see it, but I never meant to-"

"You never bloody meant to??" Ron yelled, fixing his gaze on Harry. "You knew how
I felt! You knew! I told you, but you still went and did it anyway!"

Harry hung his head.

"Yes, you're right. I did know about how you felt . . . but I, well, I guess I
forgot."

"You forgot?" Ron said incredulously. *"You forgot?"*

"I wasn't thinking-"

"BLOODY RIGHT YOU WEREN'T THINKING!"

"Ron, please, we would have told you! You know we would have! It wasn't supposed to be
like this!"

"Well it is," Ron said venomously. "You go behind my back, take the one thing
that I thought I'd . . ."

He trailed off, looking down at the floor. Beside the two warring friends, both Fred and George
were sitting with their mouths open.

"Why her, Harry?" Ron asked finally. "Why not some other girl, huh? Why not
Ginny? I reckon she still likes you a bit . . . WHY'D YOU HAVE TO GO AND TAKE THE ONE GIRL I
HAVE FEELINGS FOR?"

Harry shook his head slowly, feeling somewhat shocked by the intensity of Ron's outburst.
He'd seen his best friend angry in the past, but never like this. Not even over the Goblet of
Fire.

"Ron, I didn't . . ."

*"Yes you bloody well did!"*

Ginny appeared in the doorway, clad in her Quidditch robes, one hand covering her mouth in
shock. She too, it seemed, hadn't expected an explosion like this. Ron's face was now
bright red.

"It's always the same!" Ron ranted. "I never get anything! I'm always in
the background, it's always you who gets all the attention and the admirers and now you've
got the one thing that I always thought you wouldn't take from me! She was supposed to be mine,
Harry, not yours!"

Harry felt his own anger rise, despite his best efforts to control it.

"She's not a *thing* to be fought over and won, Ron! She's not . . . she's
not the Quidditch cup! Hermione is her own person - she's our best friend!"

"I know!" Ron said, the anger momentarily abating slightly. "I didn't mean it
like that!"

Harry was clenching his fists tightly. He had no idea where Ron was heading next; Ron seemed to
have stopped caring that his brothers and sister were there, hearing about the most private details
of his life. He looked away for a moment, and when he looked back his eyes were shiny with bitter,
angry tears.

"She's the only girl who's ever looked at me like I was special, Harry. Like I
mattered, like I could be important. Just like you are. I'd always thought it would be me and
her in the end, it was my dream, Harry! AND NOW YOU'VE GONE AND TAKEN IT ALL AWAY!"

"I didn't mean to!"

"Well you have! You've ruined my life! Both of you!"

"Ron, I'm sorry, but I can't help the way that I feel! And neither can
Hermione!"

"Oh, very rich!" Ron snorted. Fred and George's eyes were zipping left and right,
following each exchange like a game of tennis.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Harry said, feeling angry again.

"You talking about the way you feel," Ron spat. "I've had feelings for
Hermione for five years, Harry! Five years! What about you? You just suddenly decide one day this
week that you fancy her too? So of course, off you go and steal her!"

"It's not like that!" said Harry, hotly. "I know things have changed, and
fast, but it's like I've had my eyes opened! I know what I feel!"

"I should have seen it coming," Ron said, ignoring Harry's words and pacing up and
down alongside the bench. "The way you two have been acting, all secretive, staring at each
other when you think I'm not looking . . . Merlin, even Malfoy noticed it in Potions and I
didn't . . ."

"Look Ron," Harry said determinedly. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I
didn't think about your feelings. I should have talked to you, told you how I was feeling about
Hermione before I did anything. I didn't, and I apologise. But I won't apologise for being
with Hermione. We're together now Ron, and that's something you'll have to get used to.
We want our best friend back."

Ron was shaking his head.

"You don't deserve her."

"Steady on Ron," Fred interjected.

"That's a bit harsh, bro," added George.

"Stay out of this!" Ron barked at them.

"I don't deserve her?" Harry said, amazed at Ron's callousness. His anger was
now rising even higher; he could ignore most of the accusations Ron had thrown at him, putting them
down to his hurt and anger, but that was below the belt.

"No you don't," Ron said, speaking quietly. "You may be the Boy-Who-Lived,
you may be the saviour of the wizarding world, but the way you've done this, the way you've
got with Hermione . . . you're not a good friend."

Ron paused, watching as Harry took this in. The anger in his green eyes dissipated.

"And if you can't be a good friend, how can you hope to be a good *boy*friend?
That's why you don't deserve her."

Harry felt winded, his anger swept away. He had no response to give.

"Everyone into the main room, now," came Angelina's stern voice from the doorway
where she had appeared alongside Alicia and Katie. "Harry, hurry up and get dressed."

She stood aside to let Fred and George pass, but blocked the doorway again as Ron
approached.

"We all heard," she said to them both. "It's none of my business, but I'm
still the captain of this team and I'm telling you both now to leave your problems in here.
We've got a match to play and I need you all one hundred percent focused on the game.
Understand?"

Harry nodded, and after a moment Ron inclined his head in what could be interpreted as a
nod.

"Good."

She let Ron pass and then sighed.

"I hate being the bad guy," she said to no-one in particular. "Harry.
Robes."

She disappeared back into the main room with a swish of dreadlocks. Harry hurriedly began
changing into his Quidditch robes, his mind racing.

*Is he right?* he thought. *How can I hope to be a good boyfriend if I can't be a
good friend?*

He knew most of the angry things Ron had said had come from his feelings of hurt and betrayal,
but he had sounded so . . . so *defeated* when he'd said that. Like he had given up on the
three of them, on their great friendship. It scared Harry. How could he prove to Ron that he was
still a good friend? That they were the best of friends? That he, Ron and Hermione's friendship
was still integral?

He pulled on his gloves and sighed. He didn't know the answers. He trudged out into the main
room and sat down next to Katie, who offered him a comforting smile. Ron was sitting on the bench
in front of them next to Alicia and Ginny. To Harry's left Fred and George, obviously
attempting to lighten the mood a bit, had produced a set of Extendable Ears and were using them to
tickle Alicia whenever Angelina turned to the chalkboard. Alicia was trying very hard not to giggle
as Angelina talked seriously about tactics. Harry was only half listening, his thoughts still a
turmoil.

"Hufflepuff have injected some new blood this year," Angelina was saying. "Four
new players, all of them third years and from what we've been hearing they're very good.
Let's see . . . Kevin Whitby, he's the new Keeper. Both beaters are new, Owen Cauldwell and
Laura Madley. Anyone know them? No? Never mind. Fred and George, I want you to keep an eye on them
- what are you two doing?"

Alicia was now squirming uncontrollably, clamping her hand over her mouth to stifle the giggles.
Fred and George both quickly hid the Extendable Ears.

"Nothing," said Fred.

"New beaters, keep an eye on them, we're with you Angelina," said George.

Angelina frowned, but a smile was threatening to escape her lips.

"Anyway," she continued, "the other new player is a Chaser, Eleanor Branstone.
She played the last match Hufflepuff played last year, and she's good."

"Who's Seeker?" Harry asked, beginning to pay attention.

"Megan Jones," said Alicia. "She took over after . . . well, after Cedric died.
She was reserve until then."

"The Hufflepuffs are a good side," said Angelina, "and I've no doubt
they'll be out there to win, especially with that berk Zacharias as their Captain."

Fred and George sniggered.

"All I'm saying is don't expect your usual Hufflepuff friendliness out there. Now
come on, it's time to go."

- - -

The noise coming from outside was now tremendous. The team picked up their broomsticks from the
rack, Harry feeling a little bit better with the familiar feeling of his Firebolt in his hands.
They walked out of the room and into the small tunnel leading up to the pitch, forming up into line
as they went. Harry felt a pang as Ron made sure Fred and George were between them. Normally he
would have been at the back with Harry, laughing and chatting until the last moment. Ahead of them
the Hufflepuffs were shooting out into the air, the sound of Lee Jordan's magically amplified
voice reverberating around the stands drifted down to them as he announced the Hufflepuff team:

*"Smith!* *Branstone!* *Hopkins**! Cauldwell! Madley!*
*Whitby**! And . . . Jones!"*

"Mount your brooms," shouted Angelina.

"Good luck Harry," Ginny said from her position behind him. She was the only member
not to mount up; as the team reserve she would not be flying out but merely walking a short
distance to the right to sit on the reserves bench.

"Thanks, Gin." He knew she was not just referring to the match.

"Let's go!" Angelina shouted, and one by one they shot out into the air. Lee
Jordan's voice now became more excited:

"And here come the Gryffindors! I give you Johnson! Spinnet! Bell! Weasley! Weasley!
Weasley! And . . . Potter!"

A great roar of approval went up from the Gryffindor stand. Harry felt momentarily free from his
troubles as he zoomed out into the sea of noise and did a lap of the stands, relishing the feeling
flying always gave him, wind whipping at his face and his robes flapping out behind him. The stands
were all packed: there were solid blocks of scarlet and yellow at each end where the Gryffindor and
Hufflepuffs were seated, to his left was the Ravenclaw stand where there seemed to be an even mix
of yellow and scarlet rosettes and banners, but even from here he could make out Luna Lovegood
wearing her ridiculous roaring lion hat. To his right was another solid block of yellow - the
Slytherins, whom he had no doubt were only doing it because they wanted to see Gryffindor lose.
They hissed loudly as he shot past them, heading for the Gryffindor stand. Hagrid was towering over
them all as usual and he waved as Harry approached; Harry grinned and waved back, and then his
heart skipped a beat as he caught sight of Hermione, Gryffindor scarf around her neck, waving to
him and cheering like mad. It was very tempting to swoop down for another kiss . . .

*Mind on the game, Potter,* he thought.

"Our reserve players today are Sarah Fawcett for Hufflepuff and Ginny Weasley for
Gryffindor," Lee announced. "Hi Ginny!"

Ginny waved up at Lee.

"You will refrain from personal comments, Jordan," said Professor McGonagall, standing
at her usual position to the right of Lee.

"Hey no problem Professor," said Lee, and then spoke back into his magical microphone.
"The game is about to begin! Here comes Madame Hooch with the balls!"

Madame Hooch was striding out to the center of the pitch in her black-and-white referee's
robes, a large crate under one arm. The Hufflepuffs, all in their canary yellow robes, hovered in a
loose semicircle not far from the ground; the Gryffindors took up station opposite them, Fred and
George twirling their Beater's bats around trying to intimidate the younger Hufflepuff Beaters.
Angelina and Zacharias Smith flew down to Madame Hooch and shook hands with each other.

"I'm expecting a nice clean game," Madame Hooch warned them, opening the crate.
The Golden Snitch shot out, dancing around them for a moment before shooting off and disappearing
from sight. With their trademark cackling sound the two Bludgers rocketed skywards, and then in one
smooth motion Madame Hooch launched the Quaffle into the air and blew her whistle.

"And we're off!" cried Lee.

All fourteen players shot into the sky, Ron and Kevin Whitby immediately streaking back to their
goalposts. The noise level swelled.

"And it's Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor with the Quaffle!" said Lee.
"Johnson is away now, she passes to Bell on her right, Katie Bell now with the Quaffle . . .
ouch, nice interception there by Wayne Hopkins of Hufflepuff, Hopkins now with the Quaffle - passes
to Branstone - a quick pass to Smith, very nice, and it's Zacharias Smith now approaching the
goals - Smith gets hit by Bludger from Fred Weasley, nice shot Fred, Smith has dropped the Quaffle
and now it's Spinnet, Alicia Spinnet of Gryffindor streaking up the pitch now . . ."

Harry was zooming along the left hand side of the pitch, scouring around for the Snitch. He was
doing his best to keep one ear on Lee's commentary and risking quick glances at the action
itself; they were barely a minute into the game and already it was frantic, the Quaffle going back
and forth between each team regularly. Angelina had been right - the Hufflepuffs were good.

"And Spinnet is flying . . . dodges a Bludger from Laura Madley . . . a quick pass to Katie
Bell . . . Bell now with the Quaffle, avoids Smith, reverse passes to Johnson . . ."

Lee's voice now grew more excited.

"And it's Angelina Johnson approaching the scoring area! She's only got the Keeper
to beat! Come on Angelina!"

"You have been warned, Jordan!"

"Sorry, Professor!"

Kevin Whitby dived; the Quaffle soared through his right goal hoop and a great cheer went up
from the Gryffindor end as the bell rang.

"Johnson scores! It's ten-nil to Gryffindor! Whitby passes the Quaffle out to Smith and
we're underway again!"

Harry raised his fist in the air in celebration. He looked towards Ron, floating solitarily by
the Gryffindor hoops, and saw he was cheering too. It heartened him.

"Watch it Harry!" yelled George.

Harry turned - a Bludger was rocketing towards him. He dived and just in time; he felt it streak
just over the top of his head, and then with a *thwack!* George sent it streaking back towards
Owen Cauldwell.

"Cheers George!" Harry shouted.

"No problem," shouted George, keeping track on the Bludger shooting towards Cauldwell.
"Oh, going to hit it at Katie are you? I don't think so!"

He was off. Harry nudged his Firebolt into action and flew high, looping around the stands and
gazing around for any glimmer of gold. He could see the Hufflepuff Seeker, Megan, flying high on
his opposite side. She didn't seem to be having much luck either. Lee's commentary
continued:

"Smith has recovered the Quaffle from Johnson, bit of a sneaky move if you ask
me-"

"Jordan!"

"-and now he passes to Branstone, Eleanor Branstone with the Quaffle, she ducks a Bludger,
she's going to be intercepted by Alicia Spinnet . . . OK, she's not . . . still Branstone
now with the Quaffle, all the other Chasers are behind her, she's only got Gryffindor Keeper
Ron Weasley to beat . . ."

The bell rang again, and a great cheer went up from the Hufflepuff stand. Ron punched the air,
visibly angry.

"Branstone scores," Lee said, not sounding as happy about it as when Angelina had.
"Ten all."

Ron swooped down and grabbed the Quaffle, passing it quite forcefully to Katie who almost
dropped it in surprise.

"Katie Bell now for Gryffindor, passes to Johnson, ouch, nice Bludger from Madley, Hopkins
now with the Quaffle, passes Bell, intercepted by Spinnet, Alicia Spinnet now for Gryffindor . .
."

The action continued for another fast-paced quarter of an hour; Gryffindor scored twice more
with goals from Alicia and Katie, but the Hufflepuff Keeper saved two more attempts from Angelina.
Ron let two more goals in, both from Zacharias, and was becoming more and more visibly worked up
each time. Harry had no doubt he was not having the best of times concentrating, but then he
groaned: as the third Hufflepuff goal went in the Slytherins began singing their original version
of "Weasley Is Our King".

"Oh someone shut them up!" Hermione shouted from the Gryffindor stands, but her voice
was lost in the Hufflepuff celebrations.

"It's thirty-all now and this game is really starting to pick up," Lee
commentated. "Johnson for Gryffindor has the Quaffle, and she's really moving!"

Harry was now streaking low over the turf, looking around frantically for any sign of the
Snitch. Shadows from the players above him shot past in all directions; there were shouts, the
occasional cackling sound of a Bludger, the roar of the crowd . . .

He turned and began shooting back down towards the Gryffindor goals, just as above him Eleanor
Branstone was again bearing down on Ron.

"Branstone's beaten her way through again!" cried Lee. "Come on Ron, you can
do it!"

The "Weasley Is Our King" chant piped up again. Harry looked up at the
fast-approaching Ron; Ron saw him coming and his face darkened. He turned back to the approaching
Eleanor with a look of determination on his face.

"And what a save!" yelled Lee. "Fantastic save by Ron Weasley, who sends the
Quaffle straight back out to Alicia Spinnet!"

A great cheer went up from the Gryffindors again and they launched into their own modified
version of "Weasley Is Our King", which was greeted with boos and hisses from the
Slytherins. Harry pulled around and headed back down towards the Hufflepuff end, growing
frustrated. Where was the Snitch?

"Is that the Snitch?" came Lee's amplified voice. Harry was just pulling around
from the Hufflepuff hoops when a flash of yellow shot past him - Megan Jones. He saw a twinkle of
gold fluttering ahead of her and he cursed, urging his Firebolt forward.

"It is the Snitch! Megan Jones is hot on it's tail and so is Harry Potter, wow, this
should be interesting . . ."

The Snitch shot straight into the mass of approaching Quidditch players. Both Harry and Megan
were forced to duck and swerve wildly as they followed the Snitch into the oncoming action: Katie
shot past on Harry's right, clutching the Quaffle . . . Megan ducked under Zacharias . . .
Harry barely managed to swerve past Angelina, feeling her dreadlocks whip against his left arm . .
. the crowd was roaring with approval . . . still the Snitch danced away ahead of them, nimbly but
erratically picking it's way through the action . . . a Bludger came rocketing straight at
Harry and he instinctively went into a Sloth Grip Roll, hanging upside down on his broom and
feeling the Bludger graze past his knuckles . . . up ahead Megan was forced to veer wildly to her
right to avoid flying into Owen Cauldwell . . .

It was what Harry needed. He put on an extra burst of speed and shot past Megan, the Snitch now
only a few feet in front of him. The noise from the crowd rose; he could hear Lee still calling out
the action . . . Megan had pulled back and was right alongside him . . .

The Snitch suddenly dipped and changed direction, heading right back the way it had come. Harry
and Megan both turned as fast as they could but it was too late, the Snitch was gone again just
like that. Harry let out a frustrated cry as Megan zoomed off to the left, heading over to look by
the Ravenclaw stand. At the far end the bell rang once again.

"Goal by Angelina Johnson! Forty-thirty to Gryffindor!"

The match raged on for another ten minutes until it was brought to a nasty halt: Alicia tried to
avoid a Bludger sent at her by Laura Madley but the Bludger hit the back of her broomstick, sending
her veering off course and she collided with the Slytherin stand heavily. The Slytherins all roared
with laughter as she plummeted down and landed on her arm; Angelina called for time out as the
Gryffindors all landed next to their injured team-mate. Alicia was clutching her left arm, which
hung lifelessly.

"It's broken," Alicia said through tears of pain. "I heard it snap."

"Madame Pomfrey for you, my girl," said Madame Hooch, landing next to her. "Off
you go. Get your reserve ready, Miss Johnson."

Angelina helped Alicia over to the tunnel leading to the changing rooms, where Madame Pomfrey
was already waiting. Ginny was standing by the reserves bench, clutching her hands to her mouth in
concern.

"She'll be fine," Angelina shouted to her. "Get on your broom,
Ginny!"

"Looks like we're going to have a substitution," Lee's voice rang out.
"Ginny Weasley replaces the injured Alicia Spinnet. Good game, Alicia."

Applause rang out from the stands in appreciation for Alicia's performance, except of course
from the Slytherins who booed loudly. Madame Hooch blew her whistle and the game recommenced.

"Hopkins in possession of the Quaffle," said Lee. "Passes to Branstone, ooh, nice
Bludger there from George Weasley, Branstone drops the Quaffle and now it's Ginny Weasley in
possession, streaking up the pitch, wow it's like a red blur-"

"Jordan!"

"-that wasn't a personal comment Professor, it was just a comment, Weasley now passes
to Johnson, Angelina Johnson for Gryffindor once more, avoids Smith . . ."

Harry wasn't following the commentary at that moment. He'd just done a pass around the
Gryffindor hoops and the cold look Ron had given him had made him forget about the match at that
point in time. Ron's words kept repeating in his head - *you're not a good friend . . .
you're not a good friend . . .*

"Ginny Weasley scores for Gryffindor!" Lee shouted, as the bell rang once more.
"She's barely been on the pitch for a minute and what an impact! Gryffindor lead
fifty-thirty!"

The Gryffindors were cheering wildly. Fred and George both flew to Ginny and hugged her, almost
squashing her in the process.

"Whitby sends the Quaffle out to Branstone, and now it's Branstone off up the pitch
once more . . ."

There was no more time for celebrations as the Gryffindor team gave chase. Harry took himself up
high above the action and peered everywhere for the Snitch; down below him Megan was once more
scouring along the turf for it, but even Harry could see her search was fruitless.

Both teams scored twice more: Eleanor Branstone and Wayne Hopkins for Hufflepuff, and Katie and
Ginny for Gryffindor. The game had now been running for over half an hour and showed no sign of
letting up it's frantic pace. With the score now at seventy-fifty to Gryffindor Harry was
starting to become rather desperate. The Snitch was nowhere to be found; he cruised up high above
the action again and was joined by Megan who shrugged at him, indicating her own frustration.

*Come on, come on,* Harry thought frantically. *Where are you?*

What happened next was, in Harry's opinion, simply very bad luck for Gryffindor.

Zacharias Smith claimed the Quaffle from Ginny and shot off towards the Gryffindor goal hoops,
an open field ahead of him. The noise level rose even higher; the Slytherin version of
"Weasley Is Our King" struck up, only for the Gryffindors to begin chanting their own
version to counter it, resulting in a very disconcerting mix of voices. Ron seemed to be ignoring
them both, eyes fixed firmly on the fast approaching Zacharias, and so he didn't see the other
danger - by sheer bad luck for Gryffindor both Bludgers came to Owen Cauldwell and Laura Madley,
and with a great *thwack!* they sent them both barrelling towards Ron. It was not an unfair
move - in fact later on Harry thought it a very clever one - as it should have distracted Ron
enough to give Zacharias an easy goal. Ron, however, was so focused on Zacharias he didn't see
the two Bludgers streaking towards him, cackling as they went, and he didn't hear Lee's
frantic warning . . .

"JORDAN!"

Harry yelled to Ron as loudly as he could but it was no use, if Ron wasn't noticing
Lee's amplified voice he wouldn't hear Harry. And if he didn't move, the Bludgers were
going to hit him right in the head . . .

Harry dived, doing the only thing he knew to be right. Urging every ounce of speed from his
Firebolt, he shot down as fast as he could, the wind stinging his face. Ron's eyes were
following Zacharias, who was zig-zagging as he came in his best attempt to confuse the Keeper. At
the last second it seemed the screams of the crowd finally got to him, as he looked up and in a
split-second registered both the Bludgers and Harry bearing down on him, and his mouth formed an
'O' as he realised what was about to happen.

"RON! WATCH OUT!" Harry cried as loud as he could.

A resounding groan went up from the stands as Harry flew into the path of the Bludgers and took
the blow, both of the iron balls smashing into his abdomen and sending him spiralling down towards
the ground like a helicopter. The move suitably distracted Zacharias, whose throw was rather off
and missed the hoops completely. Harry hit the sand of the scoring area with a soft thud, clutching
at his stomach. He felt on fire; his guts were churning and there was a sharp pain which he thought
might be a broken rib . . .

Another groan rang out as Harry vomited onto the sand, doubling over and still clutching at his
stomach. Ron continued to hover by the goals watching Harry in disbelief, the 'O' of
surprise still plastered on his face. Angelina had swooped down and picked up the Quaffle and the
match went on; Madame Hooch flew down and hovered by Harry.

"Are you all right, Mr Potter?" she yelled over the din of the crowd.

"Fine," Harry croaked, staggering to his feet. Madame Hooch gave him a disbelieving
look but seeing as he was still walking she shot back off. The pain was like a hot fiery knife, but
Harry had felt worse. He staggered over to where his Firebolt lay in the sand and held his arm
out.

*"Up!"*

His broomstick leapt up into his hand instantly. He re-mounted and took off, a little wobbly at
first, but he lay forwards on the broom and concentrated. The pain was manageable . . . he would
pay for it later, he knew, but right now he had a Snitch to catch . . .

"And Harry Potter is up and flying again!" cried Lee. "What a brave and selfless
move that was! Not to mention stupid either!"

He could see Ginny approaching the Hufflepuff goals again, closely followed by Wayne Hopkins on
an intercept course . . . Fred sent a Bludger towards Hopkins to protect Ginny . . . Megan was
coming up on Harry's right . . .

And then he saw it - a shimmer of gold shot past Ginny's head. The Golden Snitch. He urged
his Firebolt forward; he heard Megan cry out - she had also seen it - and then they were both
streaking across open turf, following the Snitch which had dived low to the ground. Harry could
hear Lee's voice following the action as they banked around the Hufflepuff goalposts. Megan was
riding a Nimbus Two Thousand And One and she was doing a good job of keeping up with Harry's
Firebolt - she was a good Seeker, he had to admit - but the pain in Harry's stomach prevented
him from leaning forward fully and drawing the Firebolt's full speed, so Megan was able to draw
level with him. They swooped around each other and tussled, each trying to grab at the Snitch which
was dancing ahead of them. The Snitch took them up level with the stands, past the cheering
Ravenclaws and the roaring of Luna's hat, and then they were bearing down right towards the
Gryffindors . . .

The sight of Hermione jumping up and down like a madwoman and screaming "GO HARRY!!"
gave him the strength he needed. He was neck-and-neck with Megan, many of the Gryffindors screaming
in a mixture of fright and excitement as the players shot over them only a few inches above their
heads, and with a loud cry of triumph Harry reached out and closed his hand around the little
flying ball, so close to Hermione that the golden light was actually making her cheeks glow. An
almighty roar went up from the stands, and Madame Hooch's sharp whistle blast cut the air.

"Harry Potter catches the Snitch!" Lee was shouting, his amplified voice even louder
than usual. "And what a catch! Gryffindor win, two hundred and ten points to fifty!"

Harry was flying out into the middle of the pitch, one hand holding the Snitch triumphantly and
the other still clutching his stomach. His team-mates surrounded him, hugging him and yelling in
triumph, but in his excited state Harry didn't notice the absence of Ron who was slowly
descending by the goal hoops.

"That was brilliant, Harry!" Ginny was yelling.

"Great move mate, great move!" said George over the din.

"Cracking!"

"Fantastic!"

"Come on, I think he needs to see Madame Pomfrey."

That was Angelina, but there was a huge grin on her face. They all landed and accompanied Harry
over to the entrance to the changing rooms. The sound of cheering and applause still rained down
upon them. The Hufflepuffs were landing down by them, and the two teams shook hands as they
walked.

"Good game, Megan," Harry told the Hufflepuff Seeker, who blushed under his
praise.

"Bloody brave thing you did, Potter," said Zacharias, grinning. "Threw me right
off."

That reminded Harry - where was Ron?

He looked around and spotted Ron walking very slowly up from the goals. He seemed to be deep in
thought. Harry was about to call to him when Madame Pomfrey appeared from the tunnel and dragged
him inside.

"Reckless behaviour," she was saying irritably. "No concern for yourselves . .
."

Harry couldn't help grinning, even as he was plonked down on one of the wooden benches which
sent a jolt of pain through his stomach. The team surrounded him, joined by Alicia whose arm had
been swiftly fixed and had watched the rest of the game from the sidelines.

"Great game, Harry!" she said.

"Thanks, Alicia . . . ow!"

Madame Pomfrey was pulling his robes off quite roughly. She lifted up his T-shirt.

"Blimey!" said Fred.

Harry's stomach and lower chest were a mass of dark bruises. Madame Pomfrey touched one hand
to his lower ribs and Harry jerked in pain.

"Broken," she announced sternly. She flicked her wand in a complicated gesture and
there was a loud cracking sound; Harry cried out once more.

"Bloody hell!" said George.

"Better, Mr Potter?"

"Yes," Harry answered. The pain from his rib was gone, but stomach still hurt badly
and the bruises were still plain to see.

"Harry!"

Hermione had appeared in the doorway and rushed over to him. Her eyes widened at the
bruises.

"It's not as bad as it looks," Harry said.

"What are we going to do with you?" Hermione asked playfully.

"Drink this, Mr Potter," Madame Pomfrey said, handing him a small vial of blue potion.
"It will calm your stomach and heal the bruises, but you will still be sore for a few
hours."

"I'm sure Hermione could help him with that."

"Ginny!"

Ginny just grinned. Madame Pomfrey rolled her eyes and swept out, no doubt to go and check on
the Hufflepuffs. Hermione put her hands on Harry's shoulders.

"It was a rather good catch, you know," she told him, her eyes twinkling.

Harry grinned, and to his delight he had another of those wonderfully clear moments where he
knew the right thing to say.

"Well, I'd say my best catch was you."

The girls all "aww-ed"; Fred and George both rolled their eyes but immediately began
cat-calling when Hermione leaned down and planted a kiss on Harry's lips. Hermione was only
aware of Harry, of his hand on her waist the feel of his lips still on hers, so for a moment she
frowned in surprise as the noise in the room died and Harry's smile faded, looking straight
past her. She turned around.

Ron was standing in the doorway.

"Think we'll go and get changed," Fred and George said in unison.

"Yeah, good idea," added Ginny.

The rest of the team went into the two side changing rooms. Harry stood up, his hand leaving
Hermione's waist.

"Ron . . ."

He couldn't tell what the look in Ron's eyes was. It was far too complicated. Ron was
looking back and forth from Harry and Hermione, before settling on Harry.

"You saved me."

Harry began to protest but Ron shushed him with a wave of his hand.

"Those Bludgers would've taken my head off. And even after all those things I said to
you, how big of a prat I was, you still did that for me."

Harry took a step forward.

"That's what friends are for, Ron."

Hermione stepped forward too.

"The best of friends."

Ron studied them both. Harry was completely in the dark. He had no idea what Ron would say or do
next. He really hoped it wasn't going to be another explosion of anger.

"This is gonna be weird," Ron stated finally. "The two of you together like this.
Hermione, I'm guessing you know about . . . about how I feel."

Hermione nodded.

"I did a lot of thinking out by those goal hoops today. Some of those things I said to you,
Harry . . . well, I'm not proud of them. But in a way, I still needed to say them. I think you
should tell Hermione what I said later on. She needs to know . . ."

Harry nodded. A small beacon of hope was beginning to blossom inside him.

"It's not going to be easy . . . but I don't want to throw away your friendship,
from either of you. I've made some stupid mistakes in the past, but I don’t think I could do
anything stupider than that."

Hermione had begun to smile; Harry was biting his lip, trying his hardest not to smile himself,
afraid that it would change Ron's mind.

"You are a good friend," Ron said finally, fixing Harry right in the eye. "And if
you still want a friend like me, well, I'd like that very much."

"Oh, Ron . . ."

Hermione ran forward and hugged him. Harry saw how awkwardly Ron accepted the embrace, one hand
at his side whilst the other patted her on the back lightly. His eyes never left Harry's. Harry
understood how painful it must have felt for Ron to have Hermione throw herself on him like that,
how painful it would be to watch the two of them be together, yet he still wanted to maintain the
friendship that had bonded them together over the last five years. He had been brought down by the
cruellest of emotions - hurt, jealousy, and yes, love - and now he was facing them head on, for the
sake of their friendship.

Ron Weasley, Harry decided, was the bravest wizard he had ever met.

- - -

"Do you think he'll be all right?" Hermione asked later on as they sat on the sofa
next to the fire in the common room.

"I think he will be," Harry said, squeezing her hand tightly. "It may take a
while. Quite a while, in fact, but I think he'll get there in the end."

They watched the fire burn, crackling in the grate. A party was imminent, but the room was still
quiet at the moment. Fred and George had gone off to raid the kitchens.

"Maybe we should try and fix him up with someone."

"Are you serious?" Harry asked incredulously, turning to look at his girlfriend who
was grinning mischievously.

"I'll have you know, Mr Potter, that I can be quite girly when I feel the need to
be."

"I did notice . . . who'd have thought you'd go to a slumber party?"

"Well, that did seem to turn out all right for us didn't it?"

"Yep."

Hermione snuggled in closer to him.

"So who did you have in mind for Ron?" Harry asked, interested. "I think Luna
likes him?"

"Anyone with eyes can see that Luna likes Ron, Harry. I had someone else in mind. Someone
in Gryffindor."

"Someone in Gryffindor likes Ron?" Harry asked in surprise.

"Keep your voice down!" Hermione said, giggling. There were still a fair amount of
Gryffindor students in the room.

"Who?"

Hermione leaned up and whispered a name in his ear, the closeness of her sending a tingle down
Harry's spine.

"You're joking!" Harry said, amazed.

"I'm not," said Hermione. "I wasn't the only one to drink Veritaserum,
you know."

Harry sat back and stared at the fire. He would never have guessed.

"Slumber parties," he said in disbelief, shaking his head, before turning to Hermione
and leaning down for a kiss.

- - -

The End



