Unofficial Portkey Archive

A/N: Sorry. Nothing really happens in this chapter either. *Blushes.* Originally, this chapter wasn't going to exist at all and Chapter 18 was supposed to be a doozy where, well, everything happens. But Chapter 18 is now Chapter 19 and it's just not where I want it to be yet, so I'm posting this slightly out of sequence chapter first. This is more of… an intermission that wasn't originally going to exist. It takes place during one of Harry and Hermione's study sessions in the library sometime after their vow to be just friends, but before the Quidditch match. It doesn't really further the plot, but I had fun writing it, and I thought that some fluff before things get *ahem* interesting, would be welcome. And have I mentioned I have a livejournal yet? Because I do. http://www.livejournal.com/users/goldy_dollar/

Thanks: To everyone who's given me such wonderful feedback. You're all amazing and very much appreciated. Especially Excalibur, who left me feedback after every chapter he read.

Special thanks to Theiving Magpie for the rec!

Harry learned very quickly that these so-called "study sessions" in the library with Hermione were really one big cosmic plan to torture him.

As far as studying went, things were going very well. Downright smashing, in fact. Hermione was infinitely patient, working through things step by step until Harry fully understood them. She never raised her voice with him or made him feel like he was stupid.

Their 'we're just friends' dance was exhausting, however. Harry knew they were fooling themselves. Some small part of him knew that they weren't just friends, but they were both too stubborn to admit it aloud. They both held up the charade, sat at opposite sides of the table, and tried their very best to pretend that things were normal.

"You okay?" Hermione asked softly.

Harry blinked, pulling himself out of his reverie. "Yeah," he muttered, pulling the book he was reading up in front of his face.

"How's the reading going?"

Harry stared at the book and realized that he'd been reading the same page for over ten minutes. "Not bad."

"Harry," she said quietly. "What are you reading about?"

Harry sighed and shut the book. He placed it on the table and slid it towards her. "I have no idea," he said honestly. "History? Something about transfiguration? Charms?"

"Potions," Hermione said, mouth quirking into a smile.

"Well-yeah," Harry said defensively. "I mean, I knew that…"

Hermione let out a faint sigh. "Harry, you know, if you ever want to catch up-"

"I have to concentrate, I know… I know…" he finished heavily. He stared at her for a moment, feeling a tight pain in his chest. "I'm trying, Hermione. Really, I am. I've learned loads more in the last week with you than I did all last semester."

Hermione flushed a little at his compliment and studiously avoided his gaze. "I suppose…" she said uncertainly. "You do look tired."

"Thanks," Harry said. "Tired… the synonym for 'you look very, very bad.'"

"Oh! I'm sorry, Harry!" Hermione said faintly, looking up at him. "Not… in a bad way…" she stuttered. "Honestly, you couldn't look bad, really… not even if you were very tired… and not that I would notice…"

Hermione's eyes got very wide and she blushed before looking back down at the table again. Harry slumped in his chair. What were they trying to prove, anyway? That, if they pretended long enough, they really would be 'just friends'?

That thought disturbed him and his eyes focused back on Hermione's face. She was jotting notes onto a piece of parchment, her cheeks still rosy from embarrassment. Could he really ever resign himself to being just friends with her again? Could everything he was feeling just disappear? Could they go back to being just Harry and Hermione, best friends, and two thirds of a trio?

The problem was, Harry decided, was that he didn't know what being just friends with Hermione really meant. There'd always been something special about their relationship, even when he'd been too stupid to realize it. She'd always treated him a little differently from Ron. How long had it been since they had just been friends? Had they ever really been just friends?

Feeling decidedly confused and miserable, Harry let his head thunk against the table. "Ow," he muttered against it.

He heard Hermione shuffling around, followed by a deep sigh. "Is there something bothering you, Harry?"

Harry jerked a shoulder. "Nothing. Nothing is wrong."

"Why were you staring at me?"

Harry shut his eyes, mortified that she'd been well aware of his unashamed gaping. "Just thinking," he muttered. "Wasn't staring."

"Well-okay," Hermione said, sounding unconvinced. "How about we move on from potions?"

Harry shrugged, keeping his forehead on the table.

"Let's see…" Hermione said thoughtfully. "How about Charms? We could work on elemental charms…"

"Sure," he said against the tabletop. "Sure. That sounds nice."

"There was a great book I read on the subject after Flitwick gave his lesson..." Hermione mused. "I think it's in aisle ten… no, nine… yes, that's where it is…"

Harry stood up. "I'll get it," he mumbled. "What was it called?"

Hermione fiddled nervously with her quill. "I'm not certain, elemental charms may have been in the title… or, no, perhaps it was in Intermediate Charms?"

"Well, that narrows it down," Harry said sarcastically.

Hermione's eyes registered hurt. "You know, Harry," she said very quietly. "You could afford to treat me with a little more respect, considering what I'm giving up to help you out."

Harry hung his head. "I'm sorry."

"That's quite alright."

Their eyes met and Harry desperately wanted to reach out and touch her, just let her know that was grateful, more grateful than she could ever know.

"Hermione…" he whispered, feeling a lump in his throat.

Her eyes filled a little and she chewed her bottom lip nervously. "Get the book, Harry."

He blinked, holding her gaze for another moment, before turning stiffly to look for the book. He shuffled over to aisle nine, staring very hard at the floor. He ducked into the bookshelves, letting out a little breath as he did so.

He was surprised to find Ernie Macmillan standing at the very end of the aisle, staring intently at a spot on the stacks and mumbling to himself. Harry frowned in his direction, trying to decide whether or not he should say something, when Ernie looked up.

"Oh, hi, Harry," Ernie Macmillan said, looking a little flustered. "What are you doing here?"

Harry stared at him. "Looking for a book."

Ernie blinked a few times. "Right, good, good… carry on…"

Harry watched as Ernie shifted uncomfortably and Harry began to wonder just what, exactly, the Hufflepuff had been staring at. He moved closer to him. "What are you doing here?"

Looking intensely uncomfortable, Ernie took a few steps backwards. "Looking for a book," Ernie said quickly. "What else would I be doing?"

"Dunno," Harry answered, reaching him and curious to see what had held his attention.

Harry craned his neck, noticing that a few books had been shifted out of the way on the bookshelf. He stood on tiptoes, surprised to see a small, circular hole cut into the wood of the stacks. He leaned closer to it, surprised to find that he had an almost perfect view of Hermione. Very slowly, Harry turned back around and met Ernie's embarrassed expression.

"You were staring at Hermione?" Harry asked, feeling baffled.

Macmillan took another few steps backwards. "Well-no-yes… not really staring, per se… I was more, well…"

"Well?" Harry prodded in a low voice, taking a step closer to him.

Macmillan banged against the stacks on the other side. "Harry, don't get me wrong, everyone knows that you and Hermione were…" he swallowed heavily. "But… that's in the past, right?"

Harry felt his blood pressure go up a few notches. "Yeah?" he said dangerously.

Macmillan tried to smile. "I mean, you two are only just friends, right?"

"Yeah," Harry snapped, still stalking towards him. "We're just friends. But Ernie… you don't want to mess with my friend… believe me…"

"C'mon, Potter," Macmillan said, a little bit of anger creeping into his voice now. "That's not fair. Either you're together or you're not, and if you're not… well, I think it's high time that Hermione start to move on…"

"I wouldn't finish that sentence if I were you, Macmillan," Harry hissed, getting up into his face. Macmillan had a good half foot on him in height, but Harry fixed him with his most imitating glare. "Careful, I am Harry Potter, after all. Five time defeater of Voldemort…"

Ernie flinched at the name, much like Harry had hoped he would. "Are you threatening me?"

Harry took out his wand and jabbed it at Ernie's chest. "Guess I am, Macmillan."

"You can't threaten a prefect!"

"Oops. Too late."

"She's not your property," Ernie Macmillan said carefully, looking a little fearfully down at Harry's wand. "You can't-"

"And you don't have any right to… to…." Harry trailed off, getting angrier by the moment. "Stare at her!"

Macmillan sniffed, giving Harry a scathing look. "Potter, I hardly think that you have any right to-"

There was a loud, shocked gasp, causing both boys to freeze. "Harry… Ernie…" Hermione's voice said faintly. "Good heavens, what are you doing?"

Harry scowled, keeping his wand trained upon Ernie. "I'm about to beat the stuffing out of Ernie Macmillan here, what does it look like I'm doing?"

"Harry, you're not serious…" Hermione trailed off. "You are serious…"

Macmillan shifted uncomfortably, giving Harry a look of utter disdain. "Ms. Granger," he said in a tight voice. "He is serious… quite disturbed I believe…"

Harry couldn't believe his ears. "Ms. Granger?" he repeated. "Ha! Like that'll win you any points!"

"Harry!" Hermione said sharply. "You can't just go around attacking students! Prefects, no less!"

Harry's scowl deepened. "Will you excuse us, Hermione? This is between Ernie and me."

"Ms. Granger," Ernie repeated again, all smoothness. "If you could, perhaps, alert a teacher… I don't wish to put you into any unnecessary harm…"

"Unnecessary harm???" Harry echoed, feeling his anger sore to new levels. "If you think, for one minute, you stupid, brainless git that I would ever harm Hermione…"

"Harry, this is so ridiculous," Hermione snapped. "I really will get a teacher if you don't cut it out…"

"Apparently," Harry said, voice tightly controlled. "Macmillan here has been studying you for sometime… waiting for the opportune moment, I suppose…"

"Oh, I see," Hermione said in resigned voice.

"Well," Macmillan said, drawing himself up to his full height and puffing out his cheeks. "Ms. Granger's an intelligent young women, it was only a matter of time before she'd begin to look for an intellectual equal, rather than piteously helping a friend learn spells far below her-"

"I'm warning you, Macmillan," Harry said, so angry now his fists were shaking. "If you try and tell me what Ms. Granger needs one more time I'll-"

"Harry, that's enough!" Hermione yelled.

She grasped his arm, physically pulling him away from Ernie Macmillan. Harry allowed her to do so, but continued to glare at Ernie over the top of her head. As soon as Harry was a safe distance away, Macmillan pulled out his own wand and turned his nose up in the air.

Hermione shoved Harry rather roughly against the other side of the bookshelf. "What were you thinking?" she snapped at him.

Harry set his jaw, eyes blazing. "He was practically drooling all over you! He was about to ask… ask you to… I don't know! Date him or something!"

"Harry," she said, still gripping his arm. "He's allowed to ask. And I'm allowed to give my own answer…"

Harry felt himself deflate as her words sunk in. The anger left him and he was left with the bone-crushing realization that she was right. "Yeah… but…" he whispered. "He's so… stuck up. You can't honestly tell me you'd ever…"

"Harry," she whispered, meeting his eyes. "You don't honestly believe that, after everything… I would start dating the first person who asked me?"

Harry hung his head. "Well…" he said, beginning to feel stupid. "I guess not…"

Hermione finally removed her hand from his arm, taking a step back and looking awkward. "This is so stupid…" she muttered. "Honestly! That I would even entertain the idea! Don't you know, Harry? I'm still hung up on you."

Harry felt a slight blush rise in his cheeks. "I-really? So… if he had asked… you would've said…?"

"I highly doubt he'll be asking me anything… after what you just put him through…"

"He deserved it," Harry reflected darkly.

"Oh, I have no doubt that he didn't," Hermione said lightly. "Now… go. I'm going to talk to him."

"You're what?" Harry exploded. "Talk to him? What would you want to do that for?"

"Harry…" she said warningly.

Harry looked away. "Hermione," he said quietly. "I can't help it. When I think about you with someone else…" he took a breath. "I know, I shouldn't be jealous, I have no right to be jealous, but I can't… I can't help it…"

He felt Hermione's lips brush against his cheek, and he turned back to her, startled. She looked back at him, a small smile curving on her lips. "Harry, there's no need to be jealous. I promise you. Now… go back out there… and I'm going to talk to Ernie and get your book."

Harry nodded, casting a suspicious look in Macmillan's direction. "Okay," he said. "I just-I have one question."

"Yes?"

"Could we be very platonic friends who sometimes kiss and never see other people?"

Hermione rolled her eyes and pointed to the table. "Go. Study. I'll be there in a moment."

Harry looked in Macmillan's direction one last time, catching his eye, before deliberately bending down and brushing his lips over Hermione's forehead. "That was purely platonic…" he said quietly as he pulled away.

Hermione blushed. "I have no doubt that it was…" she said faintly.

Feeling like he'd adequately gotten his point across, Harry returned to the table. He dropped into his seat, keeping his eyes trained on the bookshelf where Hermione was talking to Macmillan. If the sleazy Hufflepuff so much as put a hand on his Hermione…

'She's not yours anymore,' said a voice in his head, who sounded remarkably like Hermione herself. 'Or maybe,' the voice continued. 'She never stopped being yours…'

"Hey, mate." Harry looked up, startled, as Ron dropped into the seat next to him. "How's the studying going?"

Harry merely jerked a shoulder. "Fine."

Ron glanced around. "Where's Hermione?"

Harry pointed towards aisle nine. "She's there," he said. "Talking to Ernie Macmillan."

"Macmillan?" Ron repeated incredulously. "Guy's about as interesting as a piece of burned toast. What's she talking to him for?"

"Apparently," Harry said in a clipped tone. "Macmillan's been waiting for the moment I was out of picture…"

Ron's eyebrows shot up. "Macmillan? Ernie Macmillan? Fancies Hermione?"

Harry's scowl increased. "Yeah. Apparently."

"And she's… she's actually talking to him?"

Harry nodded.

"What?" Ron exploded.

"Well," Harry mumbled, staring at his hands. "I sort of threatened to beat him up…"

"Good… good," Ron said, eyes narrowing. "Too bad you didn't go through with it…. You know, I never liked him, anyway. Bloody Hufflepuffs."

"She's been there an awfully long time…" Harry said, feeling his stomach turn over.

Ron shot the bookshelves an uneasy look. "I'm sure it's fine," he said. "I mean, Hermione doesn't fancy Macmillan…" Ron paused. "Right?"

"Yeah," Harry said quickly. "Yeah. Right."

"What if she does?"

"What if she does what?" Harry repeated.

Ron gestured towards aisle nine. "Fancy him! I mean, he can go on about… all that knowledge crap with her…"

"No, no way," Harry protested, beginning to feel worried. "Hermione's not like that…" Harry thought for a moment. "He's not… interesting enough for her."

"Yeah, yeah," Ron said quickly. "Of course."

The two lapsed into silence, looking at the bookshelf with matching, uneasy faces.

"What if she does?" Harry asked, after a moment.

"What if she does what?"

"Fancy him!" Harry cried. "Maybe, I dunno… she's ready to move on…"

"Don't be stupid, Harry. She doesn't fancy Ernie Macmillan."

"Right," Harry said, taking a breath. "Right. Of course not."

They shared an uneasy look.

"What if she-"

"Ron!"

"Sorry."

They lapsed back into silence before looking uneasily back towards the bookshelves again.

"Hey, Harry?"

Harry glanced over at his best friend. "Yeah?" he said uncertainly.

"I, uh…" Ron blushed to the tips of his ears, and glanced around the library. He leaned closer to Harry and dropped his voice. "Luna was following me around for a while after practice. I almost couldn't get rid of her…"

"Uh huh," Harry responded automatically, eyes returning to the bookshelf where Hermione and Ernie were talking.

"And, well… do you think that… it's, well, a little bit… creepy?"

"Creepy?" Harry repeated, feeling bewildered.

Ron looked abashed. "Well, she's sort of… I don't want to say stalker, but she's, well, it's… why are you laughing?"

"Sorry…" Harry said, grinning. "She's not stalking you, Ron."

"I dunno, Harry," Ron said, looking around again and dropping his voice further. "She's everywhere, Harry. I came out of the loos the other day… and there she was! Wanted to make sure I hadn't fallen in!"

Harry's grin widened. "Really? That's sweet. She was looking out for you."

Ron scowled. "It's not funny. I don't know what I'm going to do… she's completely stark raving mad…"

"She's just…" Harry thought for a moment. "She's letting you know she cares."

Ron snorted. "Interesting way of showing it."

Harry shrugged. "She's doing her best, Ron," he said quietly.

"I s'pose," Ron admitted grudgingly. "Hermione still talking to that git?"

Harry glanced up before sighing. "Yeah."

"I'm sure it's nothing."

"Yeah."

"C'mon, Harry. We both know that Hermione…" Ron paused and struggled with himself. "That Hermione's still hung up on you…"

Harry suddenly found himself very interested in the tabletop. "You really think so?"

"Yeah," Ron said, voice sounding a little hoarse. "Yeah… I think. I mean, it's possible that she's moved on…"

"Possible?" Harry croaked.

Ron shrugged. "Ernie is a rather handsome bloke… if you're a girl, that is," he added quickly. "He's a prefect, I suppose. He's second in our year, right behind Hermione herself…"

Harry swallowed. "Thanks, Ron."

"No idea," Ron said quickly. "No idea what Hermione could possibly see in him."

Harry slumped. "Ron? Shut up, okay?"

"Yeah," Ron said, blushing a little. "Sorry. Wanker."

"Hey!"

"Not you!" Ron snapped, gesturing towards the bookshelves. "Bloody, stupid Macmillan!"

"Oh. Well… that's okay, then."

"Bloody, annoying… Hermione!" Ron nearly slipped out of his chair. "You're not-how are you?"

Harry's head snapped up, eyes focusing on the girl that was standing by Ron's elbow. "Hermione," he managed. "You're, uh… you're… where's Ernie?"

Hermione settled into the seat next to Ron and passed Harry the book about elemental charms. "Well, if you must know, he went back to the Hufflepuff common room."

"Oh," Harry said. "Told him off, then?"

"Honestly, Hermione," Ron piped up. "Ernie's about as dull as Professor Binns. You can do better."

"Ron, currently, you haven't liked anyone who's taken any interest in me!"

Ron flushed. "I liked Harry!"

"No, you didn't," Harry and Hermione retorted at the same time. They glanced at each other, before looking helplessly away. "Not at the time, anyway," Harry added.

Ron folded his arms over his chest. "Did, too…" he muttered to himself.

Harry turned his attention back to Hermione. "Why were you talking to him for so long?"

Hermione glanced at each of them in turn before sighing. "That's not really your business, is it, Harry?"

Harry blinked at her. "No, I guess not," he muttered, opening the book. "Thanks for the book, Hermione."

"Oh, Harry, don't get like that…"

"Get like what?" he snapped, shutting the book.

"Look like I just plotted to murder Hedwig!"

"Well, you may as well have," Harry said quietly. "Since I'm not sure that would have been any more painful."

"Well!" Ron said loudly, standing and looking uncomfortable. "I'm off! Book calling my name! See you two later!"

Hermione looked stricken. "Oh… I suppose that was rather tactless of me, wasn't it?"

Harry blinked at her. "Yes," he said shortly.

"Harry… this is just so…" she let out a breath. "Complicated."

"I know."

Hermione looked down at her hands. "We were talking for so long because… well, I had to convince him not to tell a professor on you…"

"You… really?"

She nodded. "He's right frightened of you, I think. He refused to get within five feet of me."

Harry grinned. "HA! I knew I intimidated him… stupid, spineless bas-"

"Anyway," Hermione interrupted sharply. "I promised to go to Hogsmeade with him next weekend and he promised not to tell Professor Snape you tried to attack him."

"You WHAT?"

Hermione looked up at him, eyes twinkling a little. "Kidding," she said easily.

"That wasn't funny," Harry snapped, fiddling with the book again.

"Sorry," Hermione apologized, not looking very sorry at all. "It was rather mean of me, wasn't it?"

Harry just shrugged, continuing to feign interest in the book. "So… I suppose…" he said slowly. "If you can go to Hogsmeade with Macmillan, I could go to Hogsmeade with…"

"With…?" Hermione prodded, raising her eyebrows.

"With… people…" Harry thought for a moment. "I am the famous one," he muttered. "I would have no trouble finding a date. If I wanted to."

Hermione laughed softly, placing one of her hands over his. Harry stared down at their hands for a moment, feeling the contact reverberating through his system before slowly raising his head to meet her eyes.

"I kind of like it," she said softly. "Your platonic friends idea."

Harry's mouth went dry. "Very platonic friends…" he croaked.

She smiled. "Well-yes. It's workable." She paused for a moment before removing her hand and taking out her parchment of notes. "Go to Hogsmeade with another girl," she said, very quietly. "And I will kill you."

"Your jealousy is noted," Harry said, grinning a little. "And appreciated."

Hermione sniffed delicately. "Open your book to page 134…."

A/N: Chapter 19 is almost ready for public view, I promise. I also promise that the plot (whatever little plot there is, anyway) finally picks up again.