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!