Unsinkable Ships by Elizabeth

Rating: PG13
Genres: Romance, Humor
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 20/01/2004
Last Updated: 15/08/2004
Status: In Progress

[[Chapter One COMPLETELY rewritten.]] Harry and Hermione have always been close--two thirds of
the legendary trio. Nothing could tear them apart. Now, a couple years out of Hogwarts, the three
are living in a flat just outside Diagon Alley. And their friendship is being threatened--by
something that must be acknowledged before it can be dealt with. It is the line that was drawn
years ago, the line often thought about but never mentioned. And just what will happen if it is
crossed? [Not a song-fic.] Rating subject to change.




1. Shades of Gray
-----------------



*"We've been friends*

*For a long, long time*

*You tell me all your secrets*

*And I tell you mine*

*She's left you all alone*

*And you feel like no one cares*

*But I am there…*

*I've always been there…"*

The rain was coming down in sheets, pouring down the windows and ricocheting off the skylights.
Hermione Granger let out a sigh of frustration as the lights flickered off, then on, for the
umpteenth time that night. She set her book down on the side table, and reached for her wand to set
a charm on the lights to keep them on. Just as she was about to speak the incantation, thunder
sounded, cracking like a whip, nearly making her jump out of her skin. She cursed under her breath,
and flicked her wand, the lights finally staying on for more than a minute at a time.

Sighing, Hermione curled back up in her favorite chair, opening her book and trying to
concentrate on the words in front of her. She couldn't concentrate now, though, and looked at
the clock again. It was nearing midnight. Where *was* he?

Suddenly, the lock in the front door clicked and the door opened. The sound of the wind
whistling was suddenly much louder and clearer as Harry stepped through the open door, bringing a
cold gust of air with him. He shut the door behind him, shaking his head like a wet dog.

Hermione shivered as the cool air hit her, and the movement caught Harry's attention. His
head snapped up in dismay, and his shoulders slumped upon seeing her.

"I'm sorry," he apologized softly.

She nodded. "Pretty bad storm out there, hmm?"

He hung his dripping coat up on the coat rack and stepped out of his muddy shoes. Then, he made
his way across the living room toward Hermione. "It sure is. I thought I was going to get
blown away walking home."

The look on her face was icy, suppressing anger and disbelief. "Why, may I ask, did a fully
capable wizard like yourself walk home in this storm when he knew fully well that he could
Apparate?"

Harry looked at the floor. He knew that she was going to unleash hell on him any minute now, and
he knew from past experience that it was best to say as little as possible. "I needed some
time to think about things."

"You needed time to think about things? Were you, by any chance, maybe thinking of the
*time*? Were you thinking, 'Hmm…I told Hermione that I would be home no later than ten and
maybe I shouldn't walk in almost three hours late knowing that she would be sick with
worry' ?!" She yelled, not even paying attention to the fact that Ron was sleeping just
one room over.

He hung his head. "I'm really sorry, Hermione, but I told you, and I needed to think
about some…things."

She blew out a breath between her teeth. "Like what, Harry? What could you possibly be
thinking of to keep you out in *this* storm *this* late?"

*I was just wallowing in self-pity, mourning the fact that you'll never see me as more
than your best friend even though I am hopelessly in love with you. Yes, Potter, that would go over
real well.* *Harry finally raised his head and looked her in the eye, the anguish and pain
showing clearly in his eyes. "Cho broke up with me, Hermione."*

Hermione stared at him. Her mouth opened and shut, and she was pretty sure she probably looked
like a fish, which would have been quite amusing in any other situation. Except for the fact that
Harry was watching her reaction carefully.

"She…she *what*?" she asked softly. "Why?"

He leaned back into the couch, swinging his feet up.

"Well, as you know, we met for dinner earlier. She seemed really nervous about something,
but I couldn't figure out what. We sat down to eat, and she was very quiet during the entire
meal. I asked her what was wrong, and she sighed. 'Harry,' she said to me, 'I don't
think this is working out. You and me, I mean. I don't think we should see each other
anymore.' " Harry looked suddenly uncomfortable as he felt Hermione's intense gaze
upon him.

"She didn't give you a reason?" Hermione asked, becoming angry on her friend's
behalf.

"Well…" he started, "She said that she felt I wasn't putting my whole self
into the relationship, it was as if I…as if I-I loved someone else,"

Hermione's mouth formed into an 'o'. "I'm so sorry, Harry," she began,
but he dismissed her with a wave of his hand.

"I'm not really affected by it, actually." He avoided telling her the real reason
he had returned home so dejected.

"I think I had known that I wasn't in love with her—never had been—for a long time now.
She just beat me to the punch," Harry motioned for Hermione to come sit next to him. She
uncurled herself from the chair and padded across the room, sinking into the plush couch next to
Harry.

"So if this all happened over dinner, which was around six, why are you just coming in
*now*?"

*Damn*. He didn't look at her. "I --err-- went to the Three Broomsticks to have a
few drinks…" he trailed off.

Hermione shook her head at him. "Why, Harry? I thought you just got through saying that you
weren't affected by the break up."

She was *not* making this easy on him. He was a fool to think he could trick her into
thinking this was just some petty nothing with Cho. Harry nodded. "I'm not…I was thinking
about the reason Cho broke up with me. About how she said she felt I loved someone else. She
didn't know how right she was."

Hermione looked up at him, trying to mask her curiosity and slight disappointment. So he
*did* love someone. She should have figured…all that affection and concern for her over the
years was nothing more than friendship. Why would it have been?

"So…can I ask who the lucky girl is?" she asked, forcing a false smile onto her face,
and not catching the disappointed look in Harry's eyes.

Suddenly, there was a clap of thunder, and Hermione jumped towards Harry. Laughing a little, he
pulled her closer and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, bringing her to his chest in a warm hug.
Closing his eyes, he whispered in her ear.

"That's not important…not now, anyway."

Hermione's eyes closed at the sensation of his warm breath against her ear. She laid her
head on his chest, wrapping her arms around him and getting comfortable. It was amazing how fast he
could calm her down. "I'm sorry I yelled at you earlier, Harry…its just that I was going
out of my mind with worry when you didn't come home when you had said you would. And especially
in this storm…you don't want to know some of the things I was thinking up that could have
happened…"

She felt him nod against her head.

"Not a problem, sweetheart, not a problem."

Hermione felt more content that she had in a while, and unbelievably comfortable. She soon felt
herself nodding off, and before she knew it, she was sound asleep.

*People are talking, talking bout people*

*I hear them whisper, you won't believe it*

*They think we're lovers kept under cover*

*I'll just ignore them, but they keep saying we*

*Laugh just a little too loud*

*Stand just a little too close*

*We stare just a little too long*

*Maybe they're seeing something we don't, darlin'…*

Ron Weasley rolled over in his sleep, and unfortunately, rolled himself right off his bed. He
hit the floor with a muffled thump, cursing all the while. After untangling himself from the
blankets, he glanced at the clock. It was about seven in the morning, but it certainly didn't
look that hour outside. The rain was still coming down in buckets, although the thunder and
lightening seemed to have taken a break. It was dark and overcast.

He stretched, then made his way down the hall, thinking he would make some breakfast for Harry
and Hermione before they woke up. He reckoned that Hermione hadn't gone to bed at any early
hour last night, seeing as she was waiting up for Harry. And it was a given that one did not go to
bed without the other. Well, not *with* the other, but without the other going to sleep as
well. Although he was sure they would both *love* to go to bed *with* one another, but
that was a completely different story.

He discovered, though, upon reaching the living room that they certainly *had* gotten some
sleep last night. They were spooned together on the couch, looking quite comfortable, and quite
asleep. Ron grinned. Could it have finally happened? Was it *possible* that the "Most
Eligible Bachelor" (five times running in Witch Weekly) and the smartest witch ever to have
graduated Hogwarts could have finally come clean about their feelings for each other? The ones that
they *clearly* were trying to squash down into *nothingness* in their denial?

Ron grinned. His mind was telling him that it wasn't likely, but his eyes were telling him
otherwise. He would have to have a talk with Harry as soon as he got his lazy self up. But, he
decided, for now…for now, he would let them sleep. He would have his fun later.

Harry shifted in his sleep, and tried to roll over, but soon realized that he couldn't.
Without even opening an eye, he quickly deduced that he was on the couch, just judging by the crick
in his neck. What was he doing on the couch?

Then it all came back to him.

*Damn*.

Hermione stirred, slowly opening her eyes. She felt a strong arm wrapped around her, and the
memories of last night came flooding back to her. Harry, the storm, Cho…oh, Merlin. Today was going
to be a long day.

"Hermione?" Harry said softly.

*Damn*.

He was awake. *There goes sneaking off the couch and pretending last night didn't
happen*, she thought. She yawned. "Hmm?"

"Did you sleep well?"

"As well as one can on the couch," she responded, smiling a little bit.

"I'm sorry about that. I should have just brought you to your bed when you fell asleep,
but I was just too comfortable," he said apologetically.

Hermione laughed. "You don't have to apologize. I slept just fine,"

"Well I'm glad *one* of us did," he said with a grin. "*I* have a
bit of a crick in my neck that might just require a massage later to make me feel better,"

She snorted. "Nice try, Harry. Maybe if you're good. You go shower and I'll make
breakfast."

"Okay," he agreed. "Make sure to make bacon!"

Hermione giggled, but didn't make any effort to get off the couch so Harry could get up. She
was just too comfortable. He didn't seem in too much of a hurry, either.

Eventually, Harry sighed. "Hermione? You need to get off the couch before I can."

"Right." Hermione blushed a deep red and swung her feet off the couch. She missed his
warmth immediately, as did he hers. She started for the kitchen, flicking her wand this way and
that, Harry watching her from the living room, amused. She was rummaging around in the refrigerator
for eggs when she heard the shower go on in the bathroom.

Hermione sighed. She had been able to live with Ron and Harry since their graduation from
Hogwarts without giving herself away (or so she thought) but she was beginning to weaken. And
watching Harry date Cho for what seemed like years (but in reality was only a few months) only
added to her torture. Hearing that they had broken up last night had seemed like a blessing in
disguise—until he revealed that he did, in fact, love someone else. Lucky witch.

She crossed the kitchen, the tile floor feeling wonderfully cool against her bare feet. Reaching
the sink, Hermione began to fill a pot full of water to boil for tea. A couple walking around the
lake outside caught her eye. In spite of the rain, they were walking hand in hand; heads tucked
close together in deep conversation, only stopping momentarily to share a kiss. She sighed,
thinking, *will I ever have that?*

Somebody singing interrupted her thoughts. Hermione giggled, realizing that Harry was singing
along to the radio in the shower. She crept down the hallway, pressing her ear against the door to
hear what he was singing.

*"Standing across the room, I saw you smile
I said I wanna talk to you for a little while
But before I make my move my emotion starts running wild
My tongue gets tied and that's no lie

I'm looking in your eyes
I'm looking in your big brown eyes, ooh yeah
And I've got this to say to you, hey*

*Girl I want to make you sweat
Sweat till you can't sweat no more
And if you cry out
I'm gonna push it some mo-o-ore
Girl I want to make you sweat
Sweat till you can't sweat no more
And if you cry out
I'm gonna push it, push it push it some more…"*

Hermione stifled a laugh, and turned to go back down the hall towards the kitchen. Just as she
turned the corner, Ron Apparated in and sent her about a foot into the air. Her hand flew to her
throat. "Ron!"

He laughed and strode across the kitchen to the fridge, where he busied himself getting out
ingredients to make breakfast.

"Where were you?" she asked him, pulling out a kitchen chair and seating herself.

"I just had to go out to get some things, nothing important," he replied, his voice
slightly muffled. "When did you two finally wake up?"

"Just a few minutes ago, as a matter of fact. I was going to make breakfast, and
Harry's in the shower," she answered. The fact was made clear as Harry's voice floated
into the kitchen.

*" A la la la la long
A la la la la long long li long long long…"*

Ron started to laugh. "He's still listening to that Muggle music, eh?"

Hermione nodded, giggling. "Of course. Would you expect anything else from him?"

Ron nodded his head in agreement. Pretty soon, the spicy smell of bacon filled the room, and
offered a little bit of warmth to the dreary day. The sizzling of the bacon on the stove and
Harry's distant voice in the shower were all that could be heard until Ron broke the
silence.

"You two looked pretty comfortable this morning, if I may say so, myself," Ron said
casually, peeking over his shoulder at Hermione, whose face had turned pink.

"Ron, it wasn't what you're thinking. I had been waiting up for Harry, and when he
came in he was miserable and I was just comforting him and we fell asleep--"

Ron cut her off. "Wait—Harry was miserable, you said? Why?"

Hermione sighed. "Cho broke up with him last night. Told him that he was in love with
someone else, wasn't putting his whole self into the relationship, you know the
drill,"

Ron nodded, a sudden look of understanding coming into his eyes. "Ahh. I see. I
*wonder* who he's in love *with*?" he asked, pretending to be mystified.
Hermione didn't catch the sarcasm in his voice.

She threw her hands in the air. "My thoughts exactly! Was he seeing another girl while he
was dating Cho?"

Then Hermione sighed, and put her head in her hands. Almost as if speaking to herself, she
whispered, "Who could he possibly be in *love* with that we don't know
about?"

Ron quietly pulled out a chair, and sat across from Hermione. He took her chin in his hand and
made her look at him. "You love him, don't you?" he asked her softly.

Hermione stared at him for a moment, taken aback, before answering. "What would make you
think that?"

Ron shook his head, chuckling a little. "Herm, it's quite obvious,"

Her face paled. "Does Harry know?"

"No," Ron said, "But I can assure you that he wouldn't mind."

"Wouldn't mind what?" Another voice joined theirs, and they turned, startled, to
see Harry coming down the hall, towel in hand.

He rubbed it vigorously over his head and cocked an eyebrow at Ron. "What wouldn't I
mind?"

Luckily, Ron was a quick thinker, and immediately jumped up. "Wouldn't you just love to
know? Hey, mate, want some bacon? Just finished cooking, perfect timing,"

Harry grinned at the prospect of breakfast, and made his way over to the counter to fill his
plate. Hermione shot Ron a look of relief, mouthing "Thank you,"

Ron nodded, winking.

Harry came over to the table with his plate and sat across from Hermione. She looked up at him,
grateful that he was occupied with his food, and studied his face. His damp hair was flopping into
his face, covering the scar that he was so famous for. Her eyes traveled along the contours of his
jaw line, marveling at how beautiful he was. She didn't often use that adjective to describe
men, but that was the only way he could be described.

He glanced up, and their eyes met for a brief moment. He gave her a smile, and then returned to
his food. Hermione got up to get her own plate of food, a little too willing to get away from
Harry. Her stomach was currently jumping about, and she needed a minute to gather her thoughts so
if he tried to talk to her she wouldn't sound like a stammering idiot.

Watching the two of them, an idea suddenly came to Ron. He would have to talk to Ginny about it,
but it just might work…yes, it just might work.

_____________________________________________________________________

*If this story seems familiar to you, that is because I posted it on Schnoogle, under
Elizabeth_Golden…it's not plagiarized! I did rewrite this chapter, though, and it's
different from Chapter One on Schnoogle. :)*

*“What If I Said” lyrics belong to Anita Cochran, “Something to Talk About” belongs to Bonnie
Raitt. Harry Potter and Co. belong to J.K. Rowling. The song Harry is singing does not belong to me
either, but I don't honestly know whom it's by.*

-->



2. As You Like It
-----------------

*"There’s a new wind blowing like I’ve never known*

*I’m breathing deeper than I’ve ever done*

*And it sure feels good to finally feel the way I do*

*I wanna love somebody, love somebody like you…"*

__________________________________________

Over the course of the week, nothing extraordinary occurred at Three Runespoor Lane. Hermione
and Ron bickered, as per usual, and Harry conveniently disappeared around these times. One
Saturday, though, everything changed.

Hermione was immersed in a thick book, curled up in Harry’s armchair, when the phone rang. She
didn’t move an inch from her perch, looking over the top of the book only to eye Harry and Ron, who
were playing chess across the room. Ron was biting his lip in concentration, and after letting the
phone ring a few times; Hermione lifted herself out of her chair with heavy sigh.

"I’ll get it, then," she muttered on her way by the boys.

Harry flashed her a grateful smile. "Thanks."

She picked up the phone. "Hello?"

Ginny’s voice was an excited squeal. "Hermione! How are you?"

Hermione paused. "What do you want?"

Harry looked up from the game and flashed her a grin. "Ginny?" he mouthed. She
nodded.

"You know about that new club opening up next weekend? The one in Hogsmeade?"

Hermione already knew what Ginny was going to ask, even before she said it. "Yes…" she
trailed off, dreading what was coming next.

"Well, since I have to do a review on it for the paper, I have four passes to the opening
night—I was hoping that you, Harry, and Ron would be willing to join me." She waited for an
answer, already knowing what Hermione’s would be.

Hermione bit her lip, and raised her eyes to Harry. The look on his face was one of utmost
concentration, his brow furrowed. His tongue was just barely sticking out of his mouth, and his
eyes were trained on the chessboard. She cleared her throat, "Of course we’ll come."

At the Burrow, Ginny’s eyes grew wide. She most definitely did not expect *that* answer.
But for fear of pressing her luck, she kept her mouth shut. "That’s wonderful! Does Friday
night sound good to you?"

Ron raised his fists in the air, grinning madly. "Checkmate!" he yelled, startling
Hermione. She glared at Ron, and then turned her attention back to Ginny.

"Sure, that sounds fine--"

Ginny interrupted her. "And keep Thursday open, Herm, I want to take you shopping. We’ll
find the perfect outfit—one that will really make Harry’s jaw drop. Although, on second thought,
any outfit you wear would most likely make Harry’s jaw drop, but we’ll leave it at that. Don’t
forget, Thursday. Thanks, Hun! Talk to you then!"

And with that, she hung up.

Hermione’s eyes were huge, and all she could do was stare at the phone in her hand, the dial
tone buzzing impatiently in her ear. Harry looked over at her, curious. "What’s wrong,
Hermione?"

She looked up at him, her eyes meeting his concerned ones. "It’s nothing. I told Ginny that
we would go with her dancing Friday night—she has VIP passes."

This caught Ron’s attention, "Did she say that anyone else was going?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Ron, it’s opening night. Of course there’ll be other people
there."

"He’s just concerned about whether or not there’ll be any girls there," Harry
laughed.

Ron stared at him, incredulous. "And you aren’t?"

Then a quick look of understanding flashed across Ron’s face, but it was gone before Hermione
could even begin to try to comprehend it.

"Ah, never mind. Well, it should be fun. Hey, what do you guys say to dinner tonight? My
treat," he offered.

Hermione still had a perplexed look on her face, wondering what Ron had meant by that. Harry
surely wasn’t gay, so why would he not care for girls? Then it clicked. *Ah, the mystery girl who
has Harry’s heart in the palm of her hand,* Hermione remembered, feeling slightly resentful.

"That’s not it." Harry stated, staring at Hermione. His intense gaze made her heart
speed up, even more than it already was. Had she said that out loud? *Oh, no*.

Her cheeks turned pink, and she began to stammer. "I…uh…"

He looked closely at her. "That’s not all Ginny said, was it? She said something that made
you nervous—and don’t tell me she didn’t, Herm, because I could tell by the look on your
face."

*That* was what he meant? Hermione breathed a sigh of relief, color returning to her
face.

"Oh, nothing. It was nothing. She just wanted me to go shopping with her on Thursday to
give her an opinion on an outfit she was considering. That’s all." She flashed him a smile.
"Well, I’m going to go get ready for dinner tonight."

With that, Hermione turned and headed down the hallway, leaving Ron and Harry staring after
her.

"What was that all about?" Harry murmured. He turned, a look of bewilderment on his
face.

Ron hid a smile; "I don’t know…I’ll ask her about it later, maybe I can get it out of her
with a banter or two."

Harry laughed, "I’m sure. Well, I’d best go get ready for dinner, too." He headed down
the hall toward his bedroom.

Ron was left standing in the living room, shaking his head in amusement at his two friends.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione rolled over and yawned. Sleepily, she opened one eye, and then shut it quickly to block
out the sun gleaming through her window, where the blinds had already been opened. She cursed under
her breath and snuggled deeper into the bed. It was Thursday morning, and Hermione did not want to
get up yet. But, due to one of her so *lovable* flatmates, there was no way she was falling
back to sleep now. The day looked promising, from what Hermione could see.

She threw back the heavy comforter and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. As she
stretched, she could smell something delicious from the kitchen. She padded across her bedroom, the
wood floor feeling wonderfully cool against her bare feet. She followed the smell down the hall and
around the corner, where she found Harry flipping pancakes expertly at the stove.

Harry looked over his shoulder and smiled when he saw her.

"Well, good morning! It's about time you woke up!" he turned back to the stove,
adjusting knobs and shuffling frying pans.

Hermione yawned again as she made her way over to Harry's side, hoisting herself up to sit
on the counter beside the stove. "Morning," she returned as she took a deep breath in.
"That smells delicious."

He grinned, "Of course it does. I always make the best pancakes, don’t I?"

She gave a sleepy laugh. "Mmm. What time is it, anyhow?"

He nodded toward the clock on the wall. Hermione’s hand was pointing to, "Almost time to
leave."

"I’d say that it’s almost time to leave," Harry announced. He laughed as she swatted
at him again.

"You’re an insufferable git, Harry Potter." With that, she slid off the counter and
headed toward her bedroom, his laughter following her.

She surveyed her room with a look of dismay. It was a mess. She had to clean it and be ready for
Ginny in….oh, *no*. The electric clock on Hermione’s bedside table read nine forty one, and
Ginny was due at ten thirty.

She flew across the room to her closet, whipping open the door and searching the shelves
frantically. Grabbing the first outfit she saw, Hermione spun around and headed straight for the
bathroom.

Unceremoniously, she dropped the clothing in a pile on the floor, and shrugged out of her
nightgown. While the shower was warming up, she squeezed some toothpaste onto her toothbrush, and
hurriedly brushed her teeth.

Taking a shower in record time, Hermione was ready for Ginny by ten. She still had a half-hour
to clean…*oh, hang it*, she thought. *I can clean later*.

She took her handbag out of the closet, and headed out to the living room to read for a bit
before Ginny’s arrival. Then she stopped short, slapping a hand to her forehead. She had forgotten
all about the breakfast Harry had made, and quickly changed course to the kitchen. Harry was
sitting at the kitchen table, munching on a piece of toast, Daily Prophet spread out in front of
him.

Hermione entered the kitchen guiltily.

Harry looked up from the paper, smiling. "Finally decided to make an appearance, Ms.
Granger?"

Hermione blushed a bit. "Sorry, Harry, I completely forgot…I got a little carried away in
the shower."

Harry raised one eyebrow, a questioning look on his face. "Excuse me?"

Hermione looked up from the counter, where she was spooning hash onto her plate. "What?
*Oh*! Oh, *no*, I meant…" She blushed. "Oh, dear. No, I meant I got carried
away…oh, there’s no way to explain this, is there?"

Harry grinned, and shook his head. "Caught red-handed."

Hermione took her place opposite him, giving him an indignant look. "I did *not*…I did
*not*, er…I *didn’t* do what you’re thinking I did! You and Ron, permanent residents of
the gutter."

He merely laughed, and flipped the page of his newspaper. Hermione shook her head in an
exasperated sigh.

"I’m just kidding with you, Herm."

She gave him a small smile. "I know. I’m just stressed out because usually I’m very on top
of things…and I’m very behind schedule today. I was supposed to clean my bedroom before I left, and
I clearly am not going to be able to get to *that* today. And on top of all that, Ginny’s
dragging me along to some bloody dress stores…I’m not going to end up buying anything, so I don’t
see the point in today’s activities--"

Harry watched her ramble on, amused. "Don’t worry about your room, Herm. Take a minute to
catch your breath."

She stopped, and blinked. Then she took a deep breath. "Ginny knows I’m not the type to get
all dolled up to go out dancing, so why is she insisting that I *do*?"

Harry set down the newspaper, carefully folding it. "You were the one who agreed to go
dancing, no?"

Hermione grimaced at the memory, and nodded. "Yes…unfortunately."

"Well, since you did agree to it, you can’t back out now. Maybe you’ll have fun! Have a
nice day out with Ginny, shopping and doing things girls do…" Harry laughed, ducking to avoid
a smack from Hermione.

"You are cruising today, Harry Potter," Hermione warned, lowering herself back into
her seat and reaching for her fork. He merely laughed again, and pushed the newspaper aside. It was
quiet for a few minutes; Hermione was eating, and unbeknownst to her, Harry was watching.

Finally, Hermione sensed his gaze, and looked up, stopping in mid-chew. She raised an eyebrow,
and swallowed. "Is there something on my face, Harry?"

This startled Harry out of his reverie, and he shook his head. "No."

"Okay, then," Hermione shrugged and continued to eat, but this time she held Harry’s
gaze. Ten seconds went by, and neither cracked a smile. Hermione carefully set down her fork and
leaned forward, making sure not to laugh. Harry cleared his throat, but he, too, didn’t smile.

And this is how Ron found them, ten minutes later, fresh from the shower. Hermione with her
breakfast pushed aside and forgotten, the newspaper laying open to Harry’s right. They were talking
in low tones, but were careful not to break eye contact or to crack a smile.

"You know what I heard the other day? Dean Thomas told me. Apparently, Snape was caught in
a…compromising position with Trelawney, just last week,"

Hermione didn’t even look impressed. "Oh, yeah? Well, the other day while you were out, a
group of fangirls came by scantily clad in just rainboots and short slickers. Nothing underneath
them either, most likely. They asked to see you, but I told them that we were busy in the bedroom
right now, and could they come back another time? They decided not to."

Harry’s eyes widened, and he appeared to be trying to hold back a snort, but he didn’t laugh.
Ron, on the other hand, choked. He was trying to figure out if perhaps some girls in just raincoats
*did* come by, or if that part was a lie, too.

"At least now I know what took you so long. Why don’t we turn the attention to you? How was
your shower this morning? Steamy, certainly, judging from the sounds I heard coming from your
bathroom..." Harry leaned forward, wondering what she would say to that.

Hermione bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing out loud. She was racking her brain
trying to think of something to make Harry laugh, and could not think of anything for the life of
her. He was just too good at this game—he never laughed at anything. She leaned forward on the
table, her face now just a few inches away from his.

"Oh, it was good, all right. Almost as fun as that time you let me ride your broomstick.
Let me tell you, *that* was fun. Strangely satisfying, too."

Ron’s eyes widened, and he looked back and forth between his two friends, who were moving,
slowly closer to each other. *Surely* she couldn’t mean…no, they wouldn’t have shagged and not
told him. No, this was just part of the game. He hoped.

Harry was now only a few inches from Hermione’s face, and still neither of them had even offered
a small smile. "Maybe you can have another go sometime. We’ll have to try out the Broomstick
Servicing Kit, as well."

A knock sounded at the front door. Hermione reached for her purse and gave Harry a sweet smile.
She got up, and just before leaving the kitchen, she turned around. "You win."

Harry was still sitting there with somewhat of a dazed look on his face, and Ron was trying his
best not to laugh. He heard Ginny’s voice, then the front door shut once more. He poked his head
into the living room to make sure that they were gone, and then slid into Hermione’s vacated
spot.

He waved a hand in front of Harry’s face. "Well, that was interesting."

Harry sat back in his chair. "No different from every other time we play."

Ron nodded. "Exactly. And when are you planning on telling her that you would not, in fact,
mind all too much if she *were* to have a go on your broomstick?"

Harry choked, his face rapidly turning red. "*Excuse me*? I think you are mistaken,
Ron. Hermione and I are only friends."

Ron nodded, and got up to leave the room. "Keep telling yourself that, mate. Just remember
to keep that in mind Friday night, at the club. No dancing with her—you’re *only
friends*."

Harry was still blushing, but gave Ron an indignant look. "You can dance with
friends."

Ron smirked, "Not in the way you want to."

He turned and left the room. Harry remained seated, wondering how Ron had picked up on the fact
so easily.

______________________________________________________

*"Love Somebody Like You" song lyrics belong to Keith Urban, "Unsinkable
Ships" belongs to Kenny Chesney, Harry Potter and Co. belong to J.K. Rowling.*

*I’d like to thank Julia, my beta, for all her help, and all the people who reviewed. You’re
too kind! :)*