When Ron reached the Common Room, Hermione was already working away on her homework, her books and parchments spread all over the table. She looked up as she heard the Portrait Door slam shut and smiled jovially. "Hello, Ron," she said.
Ron smiled too and sat down at her table, moving some of her scribbled notes aside. "Hey," he said. She smiled again and when Ron didn't say anything further, she nodded uncertainly then returned to her work. Ron wasn't quite sure what to say. All he knew was that he had to say something because he needed to find out for certain if his theory of The Distracted Seeker was correct.
He took a deep breath. "Hermione, why do you always give us a good luck kiss?" he asked all in one breath. She stopped writing for a moment and slowly lifted her head up to look at him. She had one eyebrow raised and was staring at him oddly.
"I - I don't know. I just do. Why?" she asked in return. Ron was fumbling with his hands underneath the table. He didn't like it when Hermione looked at him like that. He always felt stupid.
"Well ... I just think that - that your kisses are a little distracting."
The look remained on her face and she slowly rested her head upon her hand as her elbow propped itself up on the table. "But Ron, you were playing excellently today ..."
"I wasn't talking about me," Ron said seriously, looking at her studiously. Hermione's expression was blank for a few seconds, but it took no time for her eyes to widen in realisation.
"You mean, Harry, don't you," she said quietly.
"Were you watching the game?" Ron questioned sarcastically.
"But you honestly think that that happened because of me?" Hermione queried, half worried but admittedly, half smug. She then shook out of her self-satisfied reverie and paid rapt attention to Ron again. "Well, I didn't do it on purpose ..."
"I know, I know. It's just that ... well ... I don't want that to happen at our next game. We're against Slytherin and we have to win."
"Well, what do you want me to do? First of all, I think it's highly ridiculous that you think this is all because of my good luck kisses."
"It seems like the only reasonable explanation! Harry doesn't just play like crap like that," he said, snapping his fingers for emphasis.
Hermione bit her quill. She stared down at her writing, the scribbles blurring together, as she thought about what Ron was getting at. She slowly faced Ron, who had resorted to pacing back and forth and said in a small voice, "So you don't want me to kiss him before the next game, is that it?"
Ron wheeled around to face her. "Yes, that's it! At least then, it won't distract him so much and we'll surely win against Slytherin!" He stared at Hermione, who sighed.
"This sounds so stupid and far-fetched ... but fine. I won't kiss Harry before the game." She looked down at her hands, feeling a little numb.
Ron grabbed the chair next to her and scooted over. "Thank you. I'm sure this is what threw Harry's game off today. It's just for that day. One day only. After that, you could have a snog session with him for all I care. I promise."
Hermione chuckled and Ron soon joined into her laughter as well, thinking that they were just laughing at a good joke.
"Okay, well I'm off to the showers," and he left, bounding up the staircase to the boys' dormitories.
Hermione watched him climb the steps. When he was gone from sight, she pulled out a fresh quill, licked the tip before dabbing it into her ink bottle and said, before beginning her writing again, "I'm holding you to that promise, Weasley."
* * *
Harry felt a little apprehensive as he neared entering the Common Room. What would he say if he saw Hermione in there? Things weren't exactly the same anymore after the little episode in the Hospital Wing, the more he thought about it. They almost kissed each other ... really kissed each other, not just a peck on the cheek. He couldn't believe that he nearly did it in front of the whole Gryffindor Quidditch team. When did he become such an exhibitionist?
He stepped through the Portrait Hole but wasn't greeted by either Hermione or Ron. Shrugging, he proceeded up to his dormitory. At least he'll have a little more time to contemplate the Hermione matter.
But what was there to contemplate? He liked her, obviously, and it seemed that she liked him as well. It was just the factor of them being best friends that made it so damn hard.
"Hi, Harry," Ron said as he entered the boys' dormitory. Ron was the only one in the room which Harry found quite odd.
"Hi, Ron," he replied. "I'm going to go take a shower." He started fishing out a towel and change of clothes when -
"Wait! Before you go, Harry, there's something I need to ask you." Harry turned around. This was it. Ron was going to tell him his suspicions of what happened during Quidditch and Harry was going to have to tell him the truth of him secretly daydreaming about Hermione and her good luck kisses ...
"Was it Hermione's good luck kiss that distracted you before the game?" he asked straight out.
Harry blinked. That was quick.
"Erm ... what makes you ask?" he said, trying to sound careless.
Ron shrugged. "I don't know. I just assumed. Hermione thinks that it's a stupid idea, but I -"
"You talked to Hermione about this?" Harry asked a little too worriedly.
"Yeah ... was that wrong?"
Harry shook his head. "N-no, of course not. I was only wondering."
"Yeah ..." Ron looked at him strangely. "So, you didn't answer the question."
"What was the question?"
"Er ... Hermione's good luck kiss. Was that what distracted you out there?"
Harry took a deep breath ... then forced out a laugh. "Hah, Ron. That's silly! It's only Hermione! Hey well, I'm off to take a shower. Bye!"
He exited the dormitory quickly (but not too quickly to appear weird), leaving Ron bewildered. The game just couldn't come soon enough. Maybe then both Harry and Hermione would stop acting so odd.
* * *
"Okay ... you ready, Harry?" Ron asked, shovelling his last helping of eggs and sausage into his mouth. "Our game against Slytherin is less than an hour away."
Harry gulped, trying very hard to ignore the lurching feeling in his stomach that threatened to push the contents of his breakfast back up. He blinked several times, wondering why he was so nervous. He's played against Slytherin plenty of times, what was any different?
It's your last year, therefore your last shot at beating Malfoy! a voice rang in his head. He swallowed again.
"Right, we should start heading out now. I reckon we should squeeze in some warm-up flying to loosen the nerves," Ron said, getting up from the table. He took approximately two and half strides to exit the Great Hall when he noticed that Harry wasn't following him. He slowly turned around and saw Harry staring gloomily at his half-eaten plate of food. "You coming, mate, or what?"
"Y-yeah," Harry responded, slowly getting up from the table as well. He looked around the Great Hall curiously, as if he expected someone to come running towards him. "Have you seen Hermione?" he asked.
"I don't know. I didn't see her in the Common Room or anything on my way down here. Now come on, Harry, the rest of the team is already leaving!" Ron put in urgently. Still peering over the sea of heads in the Great Hall, Harry reluctantly followed Ron.
"There you guys are!" a voice shouted from the top of the marble staircase. Hermione came running down and stopped right in front of them. "I almost thought I'd miss you!" Quick as a flash, Hermione leaned in and kissed Ron deftly on the cheek. She pulled back, smiling broadly, when Ron pulled her back in slightly.
He whispered into her ear, "Remember...we can't afford Harry losing this game." Hermione's smile faded slightly. She turned towards Harry, who, unknowingly to her and unconsciously to him, was mentally psyching himself up for her traditional good luck kiss.
But instead, she placed a hand on his arm and squeezed it reassuringly. Or it was meant to be reassuring ... it felt oddly tense and awkward. "Good luck out there, Harry," Hermione said, in a voice that was meant to pump up Harry's self-esteem. Somehow, it came out sounding a bit restrained.
Harry's head whirled at this unusual display of good luck. What happened to the kiss she always gave? Was it something he did? Did his face somehow show off his emotions and he came off a bit too strong? Was he ever going to feel her soft lips make contact with his skin ever again? He was stunned speechless and would probably have stood in that same spot, rooted in surprise, had it not been for Ron elbowing him in the ribs. With a strangled "Thanks" he took off after Ron towards the changing rooms, his mind reeling even more uncontrollably when it did when he had been reflecting upon the niceness of Hermione's good luck kiss before the last game.
He felt himself thinking, I want the niceness back.
* * *
"The Bludgers out there seem extra violent ... either that or Potter just can't fly today!"
Harry attempted to block out Dennis's commentary. With Bludgers pelting him left and right, and the other players out on the field to look out for, Harry found that searching for the Snitch was near impossible. It didn't help at all that every second, a little thing would bring the thought of Hermione in his mind. Which then lead to reminiscing about her good luck kisses. Which then lead to the questions on why she didn't give him one today...
The spectators around the Quidditch Pitch gasped and "ooh-ed" as Draco Malfoy "accidentally" knocked into Harry's broom, sending him off to the side and grasping onto the Firebolt's broom handle for dear life. Righting himself up on the broom, Harry glared menacingly at Malfoy, who was laughing heartily at him.
"What's wrong, Potter? You're playing worse than you usually play ... and that's saying something!" he continued laughing.
"I don't see how you could make all these comments about how bad I play, when really, I've beaten you every time we've played against each other!" Harry yelled back. Malfoy abruptly stopped laughing and glowered at him. For a moment, Harry got the impression that he was going to ram his broom into his again when ...
All of a sudden, a green blur zipped right by, nearly hitting Harry. Harry whipped around on his broom and sped after it, knowing what that glimmer in Malfoy's eyes meant.
He had seen the Snitch.
Harry desperately flew after Malfoy, the wind painfully whipping his face, but his broom not quite catching up. He could see the golden glint of the Snitch ... and how close Malfoy was to catching it. It was going to take a miracle for Harry to suddenly speed up those necessary few feet and catch the Snitch.
WHAM!
Two Bludgers appeared out of nowhere, one hitting Harry hard on the arm and the other flashing just in front of Malfoy, causing him to stop sharply. Still shocked from the impact of the Bludger against his arm, Harry didn't watch where he was going and crashed into Malfoy from behind.
"Trying to knock me off my broom, Potter?" Malfoy asked angrily, quickly backing up with his broom, so he could get away from Harry as fast as he could.
"Seems about right," Harry said through gritted teeth. His arm may be hurting like hell ... but he had to admit that seeing Malfoy fall off his broom was worth any pain.
"You're dead," Malfoy said, his eyes narrowing dangerously.
"I thought we already covered this," Harry said nonchalantly. "I'm flying, aren't I?"
"TIME OUT!!!" Harry heard Ron's voice shout around the pitch. Sharing one last malicious glance with Malfoy, Harry landed, the rest of the Gryffindor team doing the same.
"Harry! What's up?" Ron asked alarmingly. "It was lucky Seamus saw how close Malfoy was and knocked the Bludger up in that direction!"
"Yes, and I suppose that it was also lucky that the second Bludger hit me right in the arm? Mind you, it was the arm I just broke!" Harry snapped. He was extremely moody, thanks to Malfoy, his awful playing, and the damn thoughts of Hermione!
"Forget about that Bludger! The important thing is, Malfoy almost caught the Snitch! Harry, if we lose, Slytherin wins the Quidditch Cup!"
"Well, did you ever stop and think for a minute that it won't be the end of the world if we do lose this game? Just because I'm the Seeker, does it mean that losing the Quidditch Cup will forever shame me and the rest of you?" Harry spat.
Ron took a step forward. "Don't say things that you know isn't true. We're a team here, and I know that winning the Quidditch Cup isn't like the quest for the Holy Grail, but I thought that we were Gryffindors ... and I thought that meant something!"
"What's wrong this time, Harry?" Ginny asked, actually concerned this time.
"I-I don't know," he answered. He didn't understand. Could Hermione's good luck kisses really affect him, like Ron said? And if they did, why was he still playing bad, even when she didn't give him a kiss?
"Harry!"
He turned around, the rest of the team peering over his shoulder as well in interest, to see Hermione rushing up to them. Her face was alight and slightly pink from the running she had to do to get to where they were standing. She stopped in front of Harry, taking deep breaths, but fighting to speak.
"H-Harry. I know why you're playing is off!" she panted, clutching a stitch in her side.
"You do?" Harry questioned uncertainly.
"Yes! I forgot to give you this -"
She grabbed the back of his head and dragged it down, engulfing his lips with hers in a heated kiss.
Harry was so shocked that he dropped his broom and didn't react. Hermione was kissing him! Really kissing him!
She pulled back, more breathless than before, her face sporting one of the most beautiful smiles Harry had ever seen upon her face.
"Good luck out there, Harry," she said, winking.
A whistle blew and the whole team and Hermione looked up at the hovering Madam Hooch.
"One minute!" she bellowed.
Ron turned back to his team. "Look, I'm up for giving it all we got. But if some of us aren't going to give a hundred percent, we might as well forfeit."
Harry looked Ron in the eye then back at Hermione. Feeding off his newfound vigor, he stuck his hand out for Ron and nodded. "We're going to win this."
A smile stretched upon Ron's face and he grasped Harry's hand tightly and they shook.
"But first, just to be sure-" Harry dropped his broom, turned around and kissed Hermione. On the lips, thank you very much. "I want all the luck I can get."
"That's great, but let's do this after the game!" Ron said, breaking between the two. "Now let's go play!"
* * *
Tears of joy blurred his vision. Red and yellow confetti showered from above and he was surrounded by his teammates. He could barely hear over the deafening yells of victory. Six hands, including his own, grasped the handles of the Quidditch Cup, and with his team, he held it high into the air. If possible, the crowds' screams got even louder.
"Where's Harry?! He should be holding this with us!" Ginny shouted into his ear, him barely hearing anything at all.
"I can take a guess at where he's at! Has something to do with what I promised Hermione!" Ron screamed back, his thoughts being confirmed when he didn't see a head of bushy, brown hair anywhere. "It's alright! I'm sure he's having fun, now let's just have our own!" And he held the Cup higher to a new wave of cheers.