Unofficial Portkey Archive

You Don't Know Me

Sung by Harry Connick Jr

You give your hand to me
Then you say hello
and I can hardly speak
my heart is beating so
and anyone can tell
You think you know me well
But you don't know me
Ooh no

You don't know the one
Who dreams of you at night
And longs to kiss your lips
Longs to hold you tight
I'm just a friend
That's all I've ever been
Cause you don't know me

Chapter One

Harry Potter sat in the window seat, his forehead resting on the cool windowpane as he watched the raindrops race down the outside of the window. His eyes were focused not on the droplets of water, nor on the quiet London Street below. Though his face looked out of the window, every part of him was focused on the closed door on his right. He knew he was insane to torture himself like this, and Ron had said exactly those words only a few minutes before when he entered the living room and found Harry with his current mournful expression. Ron's eyes had flitted to the closed door to Hermione's room and rolled his eyes.

"Harry, mate seriously you need to get out. Either do something about this or stop torturing yourself." Harry hadn't replied, as Ron had known he wouldn't, he would simply sit and mope until he fell asleep curled up by the window.

It was becoming an increasingly depressing routine since Hermione had begun seriously dating Jack, a Muggle her parents had introduced her to. In the past he and Harry had been able to scare off most of Hermione's boyfriends, considering none of them to be good enough for her, but Jack wasn't so easy to intimidate. Jack hadn't grown up in a world where Harry Potter was a household name, he didn't even know that Hermione was famous, let alone just how famous the three young adults who shared this London house were.

The three of them had been the only ones to see Lord Voldemort die; one of them had been the wizard who cast the final spell. They shared a bond so close, they had lived together ever since leaving school, and still got along so well, being able to read each others mood and see what the other two were thinking and feeling. There was only one sore spot in their relationship and that was a relatively recent development. Only since Hermione and Jack's relationship had become serious had Harry realised what had been right under his nose for so many years, only now that he had no chance with her did he see how much he was in love with his best friend. Ron couldn't be happier that Harry had finally realised what Ron had long suspected, but now Harry was liable to sit moping whenever Jack came around and was determined to dislike everything about Hermione's boyfriend, which caused many arguments between Hermione and Harry. Ron had been arguing with Hermione for years, it was part of the balance of their friendship, but she and Harry never fought, they simply exchanged glances and communicated whatever needed to be said that way, this change to the group dynamic unsettled Ron, and he only hoped Harry would sort himself out soon enough before he did permanent damage to his friendship with Hermione.

Ron headed back to his room with a sigh, determined to talk things out with Harry in the morning when hopefully he'd be back to his usual state as they had a Quidditch match to get to, and Harry and Hermione were always back to normal on Quidditch days. Hermione had not missed a single one of their games since they had gone professional and was practically an honorary team member with an all access pass to the stadium, she was back in the team locker room for pep talks, and she was with their manager and trainer right on the sidelines as they played. It was the one time Ron could guarantee a Jack free day as after games they would sit, talking, drinking and laughing in post-game tradition as they had for the last four years since leaving school. Ron climbed into his empty bed, wishing Laurie would lighten up on her pre-Quidditch rule. The night before every game she insisted they sleep in their own apartments as she needed to get a good nights sleep, and apparently Ron fidgeted in his sleep. He rolled over to look at the photograph of his girlfriend, which sat on his bedside table. She was gorgeous, and she was just generally amazing, a better Quidditch player than he was definitely and without her as a chaser the team would definitely not have such a huge scoring record for the last three seasons. Oh well, he'd see her in the morning at the stadium.