The Love Hexagon

A/N: What does it take for Harry to wake up to his feelings? Read and find out! And I'd also like to thank my first reviewers, Hdawne, SlaptheWhiteFerret, Shellbell18, and that anonymous one, too. Thank you!

“He's—he's coming to stay here for a little while, that is, until the World Cup starts, and he just, he just wanted to bring his sister here to study, and he also wants to visit Hogwarts, our school, he really liked it here, and he wanted to see Dumbledore, too—“ her nervous babble was interrupted by Ron, who threw the newspaper on her feet. Harry flinched, and noticed that Hermione's reaction had been the same. He caught her eyes and what he saw inside them surprised him—defiance, pity, and anger. Certainly not what he had expected.

Harry was increasingly uneasy with the stares he was receiving. Everyone expected him to stop the fight, or to side with one of them, he knew. Everyone was staring at him. He hated all this attention. Feeling lightheaded and slightly panicked, he wondered why couldn't people just mind their own business. Everyone was staring. Everyone. He had to get out of there. Harry felt his heart start beating rapidly and he started to tremble, his palms sweaty. Everyone was staring. He had recently started to abhor this kind of attention. Why couldn't people just look somewhere else?

“He's coming here to see you. That's the truth. That's all there is to it, isn't it? He's not coming here to see Hogwarts, or to visit Dumbledore, he's coming for you.” Ron stated, defeated. Hermione looked taken aback, and Harry felt an urge to run away, but felt he had to stay. If anything, to drag them both out of the Great Hall before this got too far and everyone watched the quarrel unfold their most profound secrets. Harry felt himself frozen, while his two best friends stared at the ground, and everyone watched them with interest.

“Uh… Hermione?” Harry risked calling her, who looked miserable. She glanced up at him and he added, “I think we should get out of here.”

“Of course, of course…” she mumbled, picking up her books. “ We really should get to class… we have Care of Magical Creatures now.”

“No. I'm not going anywhere,” Ron said firmly, sitting down on his chair.

“Ron, now's not the best time to talk about this,” Harry whispered, his eyes scanning all the faces watching their scene. “Nor the best place,” he added in a harsh mutter, pulling his friend off his seat.

“I don't care. And you're coming with me to the Common Room. Right now,” Ron ordered Hermione who looked too shaken to do anything else. “And if anyone comes to follow us thinking this is some sort of show, you'll regret it.” He threatened, then grabbed her books from her and started to carry them while he walked out of the Great Hall and into the Gryffindor Common Room. Hermione immediately started to follow, while Harry stayed behind. He wasn't entirely sure he should follow. Then, he felt someone behind him and turned to see Ginny, looking worried as she watched her brother and her friend hurry off to the Common Room.

“Do you think I should go, too?” Harry questioned with concern.

“I think they're going to want you there. As a judge, I think…” Ginny muttered in answer, both of them looking at the exit. “This has to be serious… Hermione's going to skive off classes!”

“I think I'll go then.”

“I wish you luck,” said Ginny, smiling. “I'm pretty sure you'll need it. A lot.”

“By the way, did she say Krum's sister is coming to transfer?” Harry asked the one question that had appeared in his mind after Hermione's statement. Then he felt something warm on his shoulder and realized that it was due to Ginny's hand on him. Uneasy, he turned abruptly to pick up his books and in so doing, managed to make Ginny remove her hand.

“Yes… the Ministry's just passed out a law that allows it. That's why Hogwarts is slightly emptier. Tomorrow they're coming,” Ginny told him.

“Who's coming? Krum?”

“Yes. And everyone else who's transferring to Hogwarts.”

“Are they many?” Harry asked concerned. More students meant more Gryffindors, but also more arrogant Slytherins eager to make his House members miserable.

“I have no idea. But there are bound to be quite a few. There are some from America, did you know? From the Salem Witches' Institute,” she complemented, watching him scan the table and seats for any more books his friends might have left.

“I really have to go, Ginny,” he stated uncomfortably. Without waiting for her answer, he took off. He had a feeling he had been rude, but shook the feeling away and concentrated on getting to the Common Room.

++++++++++++++++++==========================+++++++++++++++++++

“You could have told me!”

“Of course I couldn't! You would've reacted just like you're reacting now!”

“And how am I reacting now?!”

“As though you're taken by some super jealousy!”

“I am never jealous of you!”

“Am I supposed to take that seriously?!”

“I'm telling the truth!”

“That is not the truth, Ronald Weasley!”

“You want the truth?! I'll tell you the truth! I thought I could trust you!”

“You can trust me of course! I'm your friend!”

“Not as much as I thought!”

“Sorry if I'm not as close to you as you hope! But it's solely your fault!”

“How is it my fault?!”

“That doesn't matter. What matters right now is that I didn't want Krum to come.”

“I bet you were hoping he would come for you!”

“Of course not! I knew you were going to be angry!”

“How did you know?! How can you simply judge me?!”

“I didn't judge you! You used to idolize Krum! Then, after our fourth year, you started hating him, and I respected that! I didn't want to make you angry just like you are right now!”

“Oh, so I'm supposed to believe you did all this because you'd rather have me calm?! Than please your beloved Vicki?!”

“Yes!”

Harry, having sat down on the couch and buried his face in his hands, heard the row confused, angry, and lost. He was tired of having them fight over everything, tired of not being able to stop everything. Relief washed over him when they seemed to pause. When he looked up he saw Hermione sit down on the couch and Ron on the floor in front of her, both looking flushed and equally frustrated.

“You could have told me.” Ron hotly stated again.

“I already said I couldn't have.” Hermione replied without hesitation. “You were going to be mad. I thought I could buy some time to try to talk him out of it by not telling you. I reallydidn't mean for you to find out everything this way, so I'm sorry I didn't tell you. Oh, and his sister is transferring from Salem by the way,” Hermione explained matter-of-factly.

“For good?” Ron questioned, slightly surprised.

“Yes. I think so, at least. By the way, you were assigned to Pierre D'Argent from Beauxbaton for tomorrow,” Hermione told Ron. Harry had no idea what she was talking about, and frustration invaded him once again.

“For the introductions?” Asked Ron.

“Yes. Do a good job and behave, because we really need those extra points,” She counseled with a smile.

“It's going to be easy… we know the school like no one else. I'm not sure I should introduce the bloke to the hidden passages, though,” Ron said, grinning mischievously.

“Stick to the traditional rooms and restrooms, and we'll be fine,” Hermione assured. Then turning to Harry, she added, “and do you know whom you'll be introducing?”

“Introducing?” Harry asked, confused. He was now convinced that he was the most clueless student in Hogwarts when it came to the latest news.

“And I thought I was the one who's clueless. You're supposed to show the school around to the students who are coming from the other schools,” Ron told him, watching Hermione's hands move towards her backpack. She drew out a list, and scanning the page, turned to Harry with a small grin. He immediately felt a certain warmth fill his stomach and he smiled back.

“What is it?” Harry asked.

“You're so lucky I can barely believe it. You don't have to do it,” she informed him, laughing.

“I don't? Is that good?”

“It depends on how you view dealing with newcomers. I think it's fun,” she stated simply.

“Believe me, Harry… showing dumb blokes around is as fun as going to the library,” Ron told him, looking at the list himself.

“Which means it's plenty of fun,” Hermione said brightly.

“We obviously don't share the same dictionaries,” Ron muttered. Harry chuckled and felt himself being carried away by delight. They were all back to civil terms, Harry thought with a smile. He looked to his right and his gaze locked with Hermione's, who smiled at him knowingly.

+++++++++++++++++++==========================++++++++++++++++++

Ron and Harry had come together to their dormitories and each had lain to sleep in their respective beds. Ron, within minutes, could be heard by Harry snoring softly , but Harry himself found it difficult to put his mind to rest. His mind was stuck on the thought that Ron liked Hermione. His Hermione, the brainy, bossy friend he had made in their first year, the same one that Ron often mistreated. He had never thought of the possibility that Ron might like someone like he had liked Cho. And especially Hermione. Hermione was… a friend. Harry couldn't picture Hermione being anyone's girlfriend. Not at all, and it bothered him that Ron could picture it so clearly he could imagine himself being the boyfriend. And then there was Krum. Sure, Hermione was pretty. Harry had always thought so. Her beauty had become even more evident after her teeth had been reduced and she had been chosen by Krum to be her dance partner, which she had done gloriously. But Harry still wondered what Krum had seen in Hermione, and what Ron had now seen, that he, Harry, had not seen yet. Finally, with his mind on Hermione's friendly face, he was able to sleep.

The next day Hogwarts was dominated by an incessant buzz as soon as the students started to wake up. As Harry walked through the halls leading to the classrooms, he could barely hear anything amidst the whispering and giggling.

“… and Krum is soooo cute!”

“You think his sister will notice…”

“… because Bulgaria only wins if Krum's playing…”

“… that is, if Granger doesn't hog him all to herself…”

“… clearly prefers Slytherins…”

“… I mean, he liked Granger…”

Harry had a nightmare the night before and had woken up late with a headache and with his scar throbbing, and the noise was only increasing his pain. He struggled to recall what the nightmare had been about, but even the slight remembrance of it escaped his mind and worsened his pain.

Entering his Transfiguration classroom, Harry quickly seated next to Hermione, unaware that Ron, behind him, had also intended to sit there.

“Good morning,” he greeted gruffly, irritated with the constant whispers around him.

“That's what you need. A good morning. But you haven't been having one, have you?” Hermione asked him, turning the pages of her book. He was silent for a minute waiting until she looked him in the face. He had woken up with a need to see his friends, to talk to them. He felt an urge to grab her by the shoulders and turn her to him, but he contained himself and waited. After a few moments, she finally looked at him, clearly puzzled by his silence.

“No, I haven't had a very good morning so far… everyone seems to be talking about Krum and his team or about—“ he answered, but was interrupted by her.

“Me? Yes, I know… I'm doing my best to ignore it. And you should, too.” She picked up her quill and started to write. “Why did you wake up so late?”

“Had a nightmare,” Harry replied as calmly and unemotionally as he could. But it didn't work. Hermione stopped writing and started her concerned interrogation.

“Are you okay? Does your scar hurt? Can you remember the dream? Was Voldemort in it? Do you need to go see Dumbledore? Or perhaps Madam Pomfrey—“ she had started to examine his scar and caress his cheek when he interrupted her, aware that Ron was right behind them.

“I'm fine, Hermione,” Harry dismissed her worries. “I don't even remember the nightmare. And class is about to start," he complemented. That worked very effectively, as Hermione immediately started to gather her material and organize her quills and books.

“Today we will be learning how to transfigurate larger animals. Mammals, as you will see,” Professor McGonagall taught, handing half her students a small cat. “Now, pick a partner and follow the instructions on your books, in order to transfigurate them into quills.”

Hermione only had to glance at Harry, and he knew they were partnered. And before he could even open his book, Hermione had already successfully turned their small ebony cat into three quills, which she started to write with.

“And they write really well…” Hermione commented, smiling. She gathered the quills together, muttered a few words, and with a complicated wave of her wand, the quills became a cat again. “Let's see you do it, Harry.”

“Well, I—“ he stopped abruptly when she started to hand him his wand and unconsciously touched his hand. He felt a shock of discomfort run though his hand, and he snatched it back rapidly, making Hermione's eyebrows come together in a slight frown and his wand fall to the ground. When he bent to pick it up, he accidentally touched her thigh, and when he snatched his hand back again, this time torn between being horrified or surprised, his elbow hit one of the heavy books on his table and it fell on his lap. He started to fall backwards because of its weight, but Hermione quickly put both hands on his back and supported him, successfully stopping his fall. With her help he was able to sit straight again, although with his face burning and his stomach making uncomfortable knots inside him.

“Are you all right?” She asked with concern, picking up the fallen wand and placing it carefully in front of him. He remembered he had to use the wand to transfigurate the cat like his friend beside him had, but a series of thoughts invaded his mind rapidly, ones that made him recall just how intelligent Hermione was. All these years, she had saved him so many times, he couldn't possibly thank her for everything. Feeling a surge of pride for his friend, he looked her in the eye to respond that he was very well, indeed, but he stopped suddenly. At that moment he noticed that Hermione's eyes were... different. Much more brilliant and vibrant than he remembered.

“Of course I am. You uh… you look different today, Hermione,” he said, controlling his voice so it sounded as firm as he wanted it to be. Mentally reprimanding himself for his lack of self-control, he opened his Transfiguration book to the same page as her book had been opened, trying to avoid her eyes.

“Well, I'm not wearing anything out of the uniform. And I haven't done anything with my hair or my face. Must be your impression,” she concluded simply. “And if you said that to make me forget about our assignment, sorry but it didn't work. Come on, you wave it like this.” She went on to demonstrate the necessary wand motion and a few moments later, their cat had once again turned into three quills. She smiled to him as a sign of approval, and he felt glee invade him. He couldn't have a better friend than Hermione.

“Thanks for the help, Hermione,” he thanked, calmed by her own easy attitude.

“I doubt you needed any help at all, but thanks. Anytime you need it,” she offered.

“Lucky you're so good at Transfiguration,” he complimented, and Hermione beamed.

“Well, you're much better at something that, in most cases, is much more useful. I'm speaking of Defense Against the Dark Arts, Harry.”

“You're good at it, too. Good thing Lupin is going to be back,” he told her, and she nodded in agreement. Harry had thought that it was about time the wizard world realized that they were in the middle of a war. Parents had only allowed their children to be taught by a werewolf due first to the student's testimonies of Lupin's capability, and second to Dumbledore's own assurances that the teacher was indeed the best suited and in complete control of his condition.

Harry glanced backwards and watched as Ron and Dean Thomas disastrously tried to complete the assignment. Ron, trying to make the right wand movement, ended up poking Dean in the cheek. Finally, Dean pointed his wand to the small cat, and, reading the spell directly from the book, managed to make the cat's tail sprout plumes. Cursing, he handed the book to Ron, who tried it himself, and in his hands, the cat became a shocking-pink mug. “Aaarggg!” Ron screamed and fell back with shock from his chair upon laying eyes on his creation.

“Eeewww…” he muttered, glaring at the mug while standing up. “I said the words the right way, and moved the wand the way it's said in the book… how did that cat become that?”

“You didn't move the wand the right way. You move it from the left to the right,” Hermione appeared at his side, and Harry realized he hadn't noticed her leave his side.

“I did that…” he continued mumbling, picking up the mug and examining it, looking repulsed.

“You didn't,” stated Hermione, taking the mug from him while a small smile curved her lips.

“Yes, I did.” He said firmly. Hermione glared. “I think I did,” Ron corrected immediately. She continued to glare and this time raised an eyebrow. “Fine. I'm not that sure,” he confessed, defeated.

“But how could a simple wand movement change make the cat become an ugly teacup?” Dean questioned with disgust.

“Make that `extremely ugly teacup,'” Ron complemented, taking the mug from Hermione again and raising it to his nose. “Oh, and it smells badly like a cat, too, like Crookshanks to be more specific,” he said. "And that, Dean, is saying something."

Dean snickered and Hermione gave them both an ugly look, then she started to teach Ron the appropriate wand motion, and a few minutes later, class had ended.

“Now we have to introduce those blokes to Hogwarts, Harry,” Ron complained when they exited the classroom.

“I'll update you on that later. What were we supposed to have now?” Hermione asked, glancing at her schedule.

“Herbology,” Harry replied, feeling suddenly slightly envious that he was left out of an activity both his friends were involved in. Shaking the feeling away, he forced himself to smile at Hermione. “When will we be seeing each other? When will you be done?”

“I don't know… but I'll drop by later, to introduce you to whoever I'm assigned to,” Hermione promised, shoving her list back into her bookbag.

“Where is he from?” Inquired Harry, not very curious, but feeling the need to keep his friends with him for as long as he could.

“From a magical school in America, the Salem Witches' Institute. And by the way, his name is David Gardner,” informed Hermione. Then, Ron grabbed her bookbag and started to pull her towards the Great Hall.

“We're already late, Hermione! And you stay behind chatting with Harry…” Ron complained.

“Wait, wait, wait… halt right there. Since when can you lecture me on punctuality?” Hermione asked indignant, successfully stopping him from pulling her any further. She looked behind at Harry, who watched them, then turned her attention back to Ron.

“Dumbledore himself called us, remember?” Ron reminded her. Hermione picked something out of her backpack and ran back to Harry.

Stopping right in front of him, she took his hand from his side and handed him a piece of paper. Then, leaning a little, kissed him on his cheek. “You're the only one I don't feel uncomfortable doing this to…” she muttered on his ear. “Someday I'll tell you why I did what I just did. But not now. Just not now, okay?”

“Sure,” Harry assured her, smiling slightly.

“Hermione! Hurry up!” Ron exclaimed, irritated.

“Coming! I'm coming!” She let go of his hand and started to run towards Ron, who glanced at Harry with an odd expression before running off too.

Harry opened the piece of paper, and… there was nothing written on it. Puzzled, he reversed it and was puzzled as to why Hermione would hand him a blank piece of parchment. Shrugging off his confusion, he took a deep breath and trotted to the Herbology greenhouse.

+++++++++++++++++++=====================+++++++++++++++++++++

“Today we will learn about a plant called lovage. Anyone can tell me what its most common use is?” Professor Sprout asked the class, her eyes involuntarily stealing a glance to the seat beside Harry. No one raised their hand, and the professor went on to explain how it could be used in both the Confusing and Befuddlement Draughts. “Now I want you to draw their interiors,” she assigned, handing each student a small scalpel and a pair of gloves. Harry had just clothed his hand with the gloves and was ready to dissect the plant when his attention was stolen from his task.

“… and this is the Herbology classroom,” Harry heard a familiar voice explain. Turning, he saw Hermione and a boy he assumed was David Gardner examining a few plants. He quickly had to turn his attention back to the teacher when he felt her watching him.

“It doesn't look like a classroom to me.” He seemed cocky and charismatic at the same time to Harry, who pretended to be cutting a few plants while listening to the conversation.

“Well, it's actually a greenhouse, to better store the plants,” Hermione corrected. “Our last greenhouse was exploded.”

“You told me it was a classroom,” he insisted. Now Harry found himself really not liking this boy.

“Fine. I take it back. This is the Herbology greenhouse, where we study,” she corrected again, this time annoyed. She paused and there was a shuffling sound before she added, a bit irritated, “I don't understand why you question everything I say. From the moment we were introduced—”

“I can see you're used to being always right,” he interrupted her with an amiable tone.

“I just am almost never wrong,” Harry heard Hermione state smugly. He smiled to himself when he mentally agreed with her.

“Why are you introducing people? Where I come from, it's a losers' job. And you don't look like a loser.”

“First, I don't know what you're talking about. And second, I'm doing this for extra points,” she explained, a bit offended.

“You don't look like a person who would need extra points either.”

“I don't. My House does.” Hermione stated curtly, and her tone spoke volumes.

“Oh, I get it. You're also a team member. Nice. And by the way, what's herbology?” The boy asked.

“Herbology? You don't know what herbology is?” She sounded incredulous. There was a pause, when she seemed to evaluate his statement. “Herbology is the study of magical plants. Didn't you have Herbology in your school?”

“Oh… yeah, we had that… but the name…” he trailed off as though distracted.

“You called it something else?”

“No, I think it's the same, I just can't get used to those accents of yours. They sound… ugly,” the boy informed her chuckling, to which Hermione scoffed.

“Well, better get used to it because everyone here speaks that way. Except for a few Irish students. If you think I speak with an ugly accent, their's will sound a whole lot uglier.”

“I think I prefer the American accent,” he affirmed proudly. Harry's dislike for this boy was increasing.

“I think I prefer the school without you,” Hermione retorted without missing a beat. Harry, very proud of Hermione, wished he could see the boy's face.

“Ouch. Are you always this snappy?”

“Let's just get this over with, okay? That's professor Sprout, our Herbology teacher,” she introduced.

“Oh, yes. I remember her from the booklet I read about Hogwarts.”

“I don't think you should touch those pots,” Hermione said, making Harry turn immediately to look. His eyes took in the boy picking up a pot with each hand and examining them.

“Why?” He questioned.

“Young man, don't touch that plant!” Harry heard the professor yell in Hermione's and David's direction.

“Which one?” He asked, unconsciously turning one of the pots. The plant in the pot seemed to move, and released an enormous amount of greenish blue thick liquid over Hermione's robes, who, by instinct it seemed, immediately yanked her robes off and threw them on the ground. The liquid, acid-like liquid, started to eat through Hermione's robes, which were now splattered on the floor, being watched by everyone in the classroom, including David, who looked horrified.

“Corrosive aconite,” Hermione said, looking at what remained of her robes with pity. “I didn't know we had those in here,” she told the professor, looking up in her direction.

“Oh, they just came in yesterday.” The professor informed relieved, looking at Hermione with pride. “It's very nice to see you studied them, and knew they were acid. Well, class. Back to the lesson. And Hermione, do you have an extra robe?”

“I'll pay back your robes,” David offered suddenly, as all the students, except Harry, resumed their studies.

“No, thank you,” Hermione rejected his offer coldly, “I have three extra-robes. If I need one more, I'll buy it myself.” The boy followed her when she started to walk towards the castle, and Hermione turned to him surprised. “Why are you following me?” Harry then had to stop looking, and started once again to pretend he was studying the plant's interior.

“I don't know my way around. I need an introductor to finish showing me the school,” he explained, not as cockily as before.

“Well, find another student to do that for you.”

“I—I'm really… sorry. About your robe,” he apologized awkwardly.

“Really? And?” She inquired matter-of-factly.

“And I have never said sorry to anyone before,” he said, offended and indignant.

“Good for you. I'm flattered. Now I have to go get a robe,” Hermione said resolutely.

“It's part of the uniform here?” he asked.

“Yes. We don't have to wear it at all times, though. I just feel more comfortable when I do,” Hermione explained calmly.

“Because of your body? You don't like boys staring at it?”

“Excuse me?” Hermione sounded not confused, but as though she hadn't thought he would have the nerve to say it. Harry frowned. He had never noticed Hermione's body before.

“You have a nice body,” he informed casually. At this, Harry turned to see him taking a step closer to Hermione. He felt an odd feeling in his stomach. This boy had already almost killed Hermione with the plant and was now acting as though nothing had happened. He turned his attention back to his assignment, trying to control his irritation.

“Thank you,” she answered casually.

“You said that as though you hear it a lot,” he said, chuckling.

“I don't hear it a lot here,” Hermione informed without hesitation.

“At Hogwarts, you mean?”

“Right,” she agreed distractedly. Harry could picture her standing next to the boy, anxious to get to the castle.

“But at home, in your muggle neighborhood, you hear it a lot?”

“I don't feel comfortable talking about this,” she informed, not sounding uncomfortable at all to Harry, who thought she seemed only anxious.

“Haha… you do hear it a lot. I knew it. And you must have someone pining after you there, too,” he said confidently.

“You think you know everything, don't you?”

“Until now, have I ever been wrong?”

“We've only known each other for a little over half an hour. And yes, you have." She paused, as though searching for something, then addedwith irritation,"I don't hear a lot of people saying I have a nice body in my neighborhood.”

“Yes, you do.”

“No, I don't,” she said hotly.

“Want to know what I consider a lot?” There was a pause after he made his question. Harry heard whispering he couldn't understand, and a low laugh from the boy.

“Listen, I'm going to the castle, and you better get another introductor for you,” Hermione said angrily.

“I'm just too good for one single body,” he said proudly, congratulating himself. Harry felt he could safely conclude the boy had indeed been right.

“That doesn't mean you're right in everything!”

“I got all O's in my O.W.L.s, except for Potions and History of Magic. Can you beat that?”

“I got all O's, no exceptions,” she informed him.

“Well, aren't we bragging and feeling special?” He sneered good-naturedly.

“Just because I'm clearly smarter than you, it doesn't mean I can beat you in everything.”

“Are you trying to console me for humiliating myself trying to impress you?”

“No… what I meant is that you can beat me at being more of an idiot,” she stated. He started to laugh.

“Well, that just makes me feel a whole lot better about myself.”

“Now I really have to go. I'll see you around,” she said, and Harry heard footsteps.

“You haven't shown me around at all,” the boy complained, and the sound of footsteps ceased to reach Harry.

“Well, you'll have to see the other places by yourself. If it's any consolation, it's much more fun that way. Trust me.”

“Except when you need to pee,” Harry heard Ron say behind him. He forced himself not to look behind him to watch the scene. He felt much more comfortable now that Ron was there, having acquired the impression that this boy was starting to fancy his friend. Ron would never allow that to be carried any further, Harry thought.

“And you are?” The boy inquired, his arrogant tone back into his voice.

“Ronald Weasley. He's a good friend of mine,” Hermione introduced.

“Ronald Weasley… nice to meet you. David Gardner.”

“Pleasure,” Ron said, although to Harry it sounded as though it was everything but a pleasure. “Where are your robes?” Ron asked Hermione.

“Oh… a small accident completely destroyed them,” Hermione responded. “Who is your friend?”

Ron went on to introduce a boy called Pierre D'Argent to Hermione and David. Meanwhile, Harry had already chopped his plant into pieces and blushed when he saw Professor Sprout's disapproving glare. Gulping, he took a new sample and started to properly cut it, managing to shut out the conversation that went on behind him.

After class, he hurried to lunch and beat Ron to the seat to the right of Hermione, who was chatting excitedly with a Ravenclaw boy who was standing next to her.

“… studying in the library, if you want to come,” Harry heard only the last part of what the boy had been saying.

“Great. I'll be there,” Hermione confirmed. “So… hello, Harry. Afternoon, Ron,” Hermione greeted the two of them cheerfully.

“Afternoon, Hermione… what was that bloke talking to you about?” Ron inquired, grabbing a few pieces of chicken.

“That bloke has a name, Ron. Morag McDougal. He's a ravenclaw who's organizing a study group. And they invited me,” she said grinning while picking up her cup and sipping its contents.

“No… he invited you,” Ron corrected with irritation.

“Same thing,” Hermione stated unaffected by his tone.

“No, it's—“

“When is the Bulgarian team coming?” Harry asked, interrupting an angry Ron purposely. His red-haired friend instantly looked at the door, during which time Hermione whispered a thank you to Harry. He understood why she'd feel grateful. He had just saved her from another argument with Ron. At least for the time being.

“Yeah. When is Vicky coming here to Hogwarts to make our lives all better?” Ron asked roughly.

“In a few minutes. Why? Anxious?” She asked with a mischievous smile. Harry couldn't contain a smile and tried to hide it by stuffing his mouth with chicken.

“Of course. Because as you know, I simply adore that guy…” Ron muttered under his breath with acid sarcasm. Hermione went on to ignore both of them as she read her newspaper and ate her meal.

Harry knew that Hermione was under the impression that Ron's hatred towards Viktor Krum had nothing to do with her. She was thinking Viktor had said or done something to Ron that had triggered his anger. And they had wordlessly agreed to not speak about her relationship with him. Harry had concluded that Ron was certain there was something between Krum and Hermione that exceeded friendship. And since Ron himself now knew he liked Hermione, Krum had become a forbidden subject between Harry and Ron. The day before, when they had been getting ready to sleep, Harry had tried to engage Ron in a conversation about Hermione, for reasons unknown even to himself. Ron avoided speaking of her and dismissed any other words Harry said about her. Uncomfortable himself with the subject, Harry desisted and the two friends never spoke of Hermione again.

“Oh my God! Viktor Krum is here! Oh my God!” Harry heard a girl cry out hysterically and turned his head towards the entrance. The famous Bulgarian Seeker had just emerged from the door. He stole a glance at Hermione, who was smiling calmly looking at the door. Krum stopped in the doorway for a moment, and Harry noticed the room had fallen into a dead quiet. Krum was searching the room for something. Or someone, Harry thought, when he realized what he was looking for was Hermione. And then, Krum spotted her, and an enormous smile took hold of his face. This surprised Harry, because he couldn't remember ever seeing Viktor Krum smile. There were a few gasps, and he realized he wasn't alone. A smile on Krum's face was news to quite a lot of other people. He walked briskly towards them, while the other members of the Bulgarian Quidditch team spread out, most walking towards the Slytherin table, where most of the team members had friends.

“Herm-own-ninny!” He exclaimed with his deep, rough voice when he reached her. Harry looked at Ron from the corner of his eyes and saw him gritting his teeth. She stood up slowly, hesitantly. Harry noticed that even though the whole team had arrived, all eyes were on his friend and Viktor Krum. He also noticed that there was a contrast between the two of them, overly enthusiastic Krum and cautious Hermione.

“Hello, Viktor,” Hermione said in a low tone. It didn't work, however—it seemed to Harry that everyone in the Great Hall heard. “Sit down, please,” she said uneasily, motioning towards the seat to her left. Seamus, open-mouthed, scooted away from Hermione, and Krum sat down. “Here. Have some lunch,” she offered, with a forced smile. Krum started to examine the food and Harry knew she had had enough of the staring, and Hermione confirmed it when, before she sat down, she threw an impatient glare to everyone surrounding her who was watching her, and immediately the usual chatter dominated the room as everyone resumed their eating.

“So… Viktor Krum… uh… I thought your last game against Germany was terrific. You were the best, I mean, in such heavy rain, you captured the snitch in minutes from the start of the game!” Seamus said excitedly. Krum looked at him for a moment as though trying to remember who he was. “I'm Seamus Finnigan, a friend of Hermione's,” he introduced himself animatedly, extending his hand.

“It is nice to mit any vriend off Herm-own-ninny's,” Krum said, shaking the boy's hand sympathetically.

“Viktor, I have class after this. What are you going to do after lunch?” Hermione inquired, much more comfortable then when he had first sat down. She used her fork to cut a piece of chicken and offered it to Krum, who happily accepted it.

“Vee `ave asked your `eadmaster vor permission to oose the Quidditch vield vor practice,” he explained. Harry struggled to understand all his words, but Ron seemed to have even more difficulty understanding.

“Excuse me, Viktor, but could you speak actual English?” Ron requested with a cold smile. Hermione threw a glare to Ron.

“Viktor, how about you go and unpack your things, and I'll bring you food later,” Hermione suggested, smiling charmingly at Krum, who immediately forgot what Ron had said.

“Off course. See you later, Herm-own-ninny,” he said, and then, to Harry's surprise, he gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before taking off. Now Harry was certain he had missed something, especially when Hermione didn't seem to protest at all. She blushed a little and resumed eating normally. Ron, however, looked completely lost. Not angry, not confused, but lost. He searched Hermione's face for a moment before turning back to his food silently.

“Today Professor Lupin will teach us for the first time this year, do you guys realize it?” Hermione asked excitedly after a few minutes of silence between them.

“It's good to finally have a good teacher. I think everything will be better now that he's back,” Harry stated, feeling excitement build up inside him. He had missed Lupin and his teaching, which had been the most useful in Harry's encounters with Voldemort. Lupin and Hermione had been the ones he owed his life to, he thought with a smile. They taught him most of the defensive spells he knew. Hermione smiled back, seeming to know what he was thinking about.

“His teachings were the most useful so far, huh?” She said, then picked up her cup and sipped the juice inside.

“That was exactly what I was thinking,” Harry informed her, happy to realize that she frequently could tell what his thoughts were. Meanwhile, Ron sighed deeply and picking up his plate, left the table to sit beside his sister Ginny a few feet away.

“Why did he do that?” Hermione questioned. Harry was thinking of a way not to tell her when Parvati came.

“Hermione, you know we have a meeting tomorrow, right?” Parvati spoke up behind Harry. Hermione turned to look at her at the same time that Harry did, and when they did so in opposing directions, her lips brushed a part of cheek that was embarrassingly close to his mouth.

“Sorry, Harry,” Hermione apologized awkwardly. But before he could answer, she looked up to Parvati and said, “I'll be there. Now go eat. I don't want to think about that dreadful job right now.”

“If only you knew how lucky you are to be in an activity that isn't at all work-like. Some people have to be trophy cleaners, Hermione!” she exclaimed disgusted.

"And? It's a nice activity. Certainly better than writing about other people's lives," Hermione spoke coolly. "Although I do understand it's your area of expertise."

"You don't know what you're saying. Sometimes you can't use magic to clean, you know? Do you have any idea what those cleaning products do to your nails?" Parvati asked, examining her own nails, and not seeing Hermione roll her eyes in annoyance. "Anyway, be there. We have to sort out what we'll publish in the first edition," she told Hermione excitedly.

"I'll be there," Hermione promised. After Parvati took off, Hermione groaned and bit a piece of her chicken. “Harry… I have to talk to you later about something. It's very important. Matters of the heart, to be more specific,” she told him after a while, blushing profusely.

“Why can't you tell me now?” He asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. Harry was intrigued by the act of Hermione actually flushing, mostly because he was used to her cool, calm and controlled reactions to almost everything.

“Well… first, let's make sure you're not drinking anything, so you don't spit it on me when I tell you.” She took his cup from his hand nervously and set it on the table hesitantly. She didn't, however, immediately meet his eyes.

“I don't have anything in my mouth at all, Hermione,” he assured her, containing a laugh. “So, what is it?” he asked, smiling. But when she finally did answer after a few moments with a low, rapid whisper, Harry felt his mouth become very dry, and his pulse very weak. His smile faded.

“Harry… well… I've been kind of corresponding with Viktor for quite some time. And… he's asked me to be his girlfriend.”