Potions class seemed to drone on. Harry knew he should be listening to what Snape was saying, but every time he tried to focus, he found himself immediately drifting off again. Paying attention in Snape's class was extra important, the man loved to find any excuse to incriminate and punish Harry. Not to mention the fact that his workload always seemed to be twice as hard as everyone else's, no matter what he did.
After trying futilely to take notes, Harry gave up and hoped that he'd be able to copy Hermione's after class. That was, if she was still talking to him. He was sitting between her and Ron, and the only thing she'd said to him since entering had been a frosty "hello." Harry admitted that he'd probably deserved it.
Great. They hadn't even been together for a complete day and he was already treating her like his own personal punching bag for his mood swings. That thought made him feel guiltier and he stared hard at the sheet of unfinished notes in front of him. Squished between Ron and Hermione only reminded him of what a bad friend (And boyfriend! Boyfriend!) he'd been to them the last little while.
He was surprised when he felt a piece of parchment slide under his elbow. Frowning, he glanced quickly up to make sure that Snape wasn't in the vicinity before pulling it out from under him. Reading it made his heart speed up and his mouth feel slightly dry.
I'm sorry I upset you, Harry. I didn't mean to. We're both in this together, okay? Please don't be mad at me… I don't think I can take it right now.
Hermione
He snuck a quick glance at her. She was busily copying down every word Snape was saying and didn't so much as twitch in his direction. Despite that, however, Harry found himself wondering just how much attention she was actually paying to class. Sneaking a look at Snape, he wrote:
I'm not mad at you. I'm sorry I was so short with you. You're right, we are in this together.
As an afterthought he added:
P.S.: I don't think it's even possible for me to stay mad at you.
Feeling like he was back on equal ground with Hermione, and had managed to say something boyfriendy, Harry felt his spirits rise. Taking a quick glance for Snape, Harry followed Hermione's lead and slipped the note under her elbow.
He stared back down at his parchment and quill, but was really watching Hermione for movement. He glanced at her when he saw her pull the note out from her elbow, and could swear he saw the corners of her mouth turn up into a smile.
A few minutes later, Harry felt the parchment slip back under his elbow. A little more eager now, he quickly made sure that Snape was in a corner of the room before pushing it in front of him. Pushing his glasses up his nose, he read:
Honestly, Harry. We both know you're more than capable of holding a grudge.
Harry blushed, but he had to admit that she had a point. He kept reading.
But it was sweet. And I just wanted to say that… me, too. Obviously, not the grudge part, but about what you really meant by it.
Harry felt his face heat up. What had he meant by it? How was it that girls could make such a big deal out of the simplest of phrases? Trying desperately to figure out what Hermione was talking about, he wrote back something that he hoped would at least sound right.
Yeah, I know what you mean. (Harry resisted the urge to snort.) Besides, hasn't anyone ever told you that you're really cute when you're frustrated? Your eyes get all narrow and your hands shake slightly… it's really very endearing.
Harry slipped the piece of parchment back under Hermione's elbow. Then, deciding that he should at least pretend to be making notes, tried to focus on what Snape was saying.
"Goslum is very dangerous in its liquid form, however mixed with water it has many beneficial properties. It allows Healers to perform many operations which would have been difficult, if not impossible, only decades ago…"
Harry found himself drifting again. He glanced at Ron, who was actually trying to take notes. Harry felt slightly relieved. At least he would have someone's notes to get. Even if Ron's notes were hardly ever detailed as Hermione's they were still better than nothing. It was assuming, however, that he and Ron would continue being on speaking terms in the future. Harry felt his stomach bottom out, thinking again about the reel of lies he'd concocted over the last 24 hours.
Besides, he reflected, would Ron even take the news all that badly? He'd never really shown any interest in Hermione. Sure he got jealous fairly easily, but just because he and Hermione were going out didn't mean that they were leaving Ron behind or anything. And, okay, Ron had never particularly liked Viktor Krum much, but that was mostly because Ron thought he was grumpy and surly and…
Harry straightened up in his chair. Krum was grumpy and surly! Hermione had just told him that morning that he was moody most of the time, too. What if Hermione was only showing interest in him because he reminded her of Krum? In which case, would it upset Ron?
Harry sank down again, feeling the familiar queasy sensation return with a vengeance in the pit of his stomach. He was being stupid. He and Krum were nothing alike…. Harry, with sudden panic realized that he and Krum played the same Quidditch position, too! When Hermione slipped the parchment under his elbow, Harry made a wild dive for it, desperate for any kind of reassurance.
Oh, Harry, don't be ridiculous.
Ridiculous? Who was being ridiculous? Harry had a sudden fear that everything he would say to her from now on would go into that spot in girls' minds that analyzed and over-analyzed things. It only increased his queasiness. Palms slightly sweaty, he read on:
Of course, I could say that you look cute when you're furious, moody and grumpy, but it sounds a little clichéd. The truth is…
Harry sent her a dirty look. Clichéd? Now she was calling him clichéd??? He was just trying to be sweet!
The truth is that you look cute pretty much all the time, anyway. Of course, judging by all the stares you're constantly getting, you probably already knew that. But I just wanted… I just wanted to tell you that.
Harry looked up again, grinning despite himself, feeling slightly exuberant. This wasn't so hard. All he had to do was say some sappy things, then she would say them back, and then his stomach would do that little flip-flop fling, and…
"Paying close attention in class, aren't we, Potter?"
Harry felt tendrils of horror creep into his belly. With trepidation, he turned his head, finding Snape staring right over his shoulder and… and… Harry's heart sped up and he rushed to grab him and Hermione's note, to tear it up, to eat it, to do anything to keep it away from Snape. Unfortunately, Snape knew exactly what he was doing and, with a slight flick of his wand, summoned the piece of parchment right into his waiting hand.
Hermione went perfectly still beside him. Harry had a moment of worry where he was afraid that she had stopped breathing or something. His own breath was coming out heavy enough to make up for both of them.
Snape read over the note silently as the rest of the class watched it with hungry eyes. A large smirk crept over his face as he read it, and Harry felt his face heat up to burning levels. When he was done, he met Harry's gaze, a sick grin plastered on his face.
"Mr. Potter, I find myself unsurprised by your complete lack of any kind of attempt in my classroom, despite your abysmal grades. However," Snape's sick grin, if even possible, was actually widening, "Miss Granger, I'm surprised that with your pompous amount of knowledge, you would not only encourage this kind of unparticipation, but begin it, as well."
"What does it say, Professor?" Malfoy called out gleefully from the back of the room, clearly overjoyed at seeing Harry in such an embarrassing position.
"Are you two mad?" Ron whispered, out of the corner of his mouth. "Passing notes in Potions???"
Harry couldn't look at him. He could barely breathe, as it was, despite the large intakes of air he was taking.
"Why, Malfoy, I would be delighted to read Potter's note." Clearing his throat, Snape began, "'I'm sorry I upset you, Harry. I didn't mean to…'"
Harry stood up so hard he knocked his chair backwards. He was shaking so badly that he could barely get out his angry words. "You have no RIGHT to read THAT! That's PRIVATE!"
Malfoy roared with laughter in the back of the room. "Personal is it, Potter?" he called out. The Slytherins all snickered.
Snape was watching Harry with a look of high amusement. "Sit down, Potter." His eyes glinted, his face leering and sinister. "It would give me the greatest pleasure to assign you detention."
Harry had a moment where he envisioned himself leaping over the table, hitting Snape with a curse, and taking his and Hermione's note and running. The moment broke when Hermione tugged on his robes.
"Sit down, Harry," she said, sounding almost resigned. "This won't help any."
He sat, but continued to feel the anger pulse through him. Snape continued on with the note, and Harry stared straight ahead, pretending not to hear the bursts of laughter coming from the back of the room, and avoiding the slightly gleeful eyes shot in his direction.
"'Please don't be mad at me… I don't think I can take it right now." Snape paused after every word, giving Malfoy and the rest of the Slytherins a chance to guffaw. Harry knew it was only going to get worse.
Hermione for her part, was sitting as ridged as a board next to him, muttering continually under her breath, "Please let class end, please let class end, please let class end…"
Harry thought that was awfully wishful thinking of her, seeing as though most people would probably gladly stay after the end of class to hear Snape read every last word of the note.
When Snape got to the part where Harry said Hermione was cute, he slowed down even further, drawing out each word. "'Besides… hasn't… anyone… ever… told… you… that… you're… really… cute… when… you're… frustrated? You're… eyes," Snape pronounced the word 'eyes' in a low, baritone voice, "get… all… narrow… and… your… hands… shake… slightly… it's… really… very… endearing."
Malfoy yelled out from the back of the room. "Hermione Granger? Cute? You've gone mad, Potter."
Harry felt his blood boil. He jumped up, his hands clenched in fists at his sides. "Shut your trap!" he hollered at Malfoy. "YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO SAY THAT ABOUT HER!"
Snape looked extra please. "I believe that's the second time you've stood up in my classroom today to speak out of turn and without permission, Mr. Potter. 20 points from Gryffindor."
Groans from the Gryffindors could be heard throughout the room. "Nice going, Harry," they muttered. "Couldn't keep your hormones in check until after class, could you, Harry?"
Hermione tugged him down again. He was so angry with Snape that he wanted nothing better than to pull out his wand… and… and…
"Harry," Hermione whispered in his ear. "Please, just let him finish. It'll be okay."
Harry was pretty sure it was far from being okay. Snape was beginning to wind down, reading Hermione's last bit with more punctuated laughter from the Slytherins and groans and moans from the Gryffindors. Harry glanced at Ron. His red-haired friend was staring down at his tightly clasped hands and hadn't made so much as a sound since Snape began reading the note.
Harry felt guilt climb in on top of the anger. If there was any way that he wanted Ron to find out… it wasn't like this… it wasn't like this that he wanted anyone to find out.
Snape finished, ending with loud jeers and hoots from the Slytherin crowd, Malfoy in particular. "Potter, Granger, if I ever find either of you so much as writing a word that does not relate to Potions in my classroom again, let me assure you that your punishment will be much worse than slight public embarrassment. Class dismissed."
Most people got up eagerly, turning enthusiastically to their neighbour to discuss the newest gossip or to guffaw and laugh over it. Harry turned around to try and say something, anything to Ron that might salvage their friendship, but he'd already left.
"C'mon, Harry." Hermione said, pulling on his arm. She sounded shaky, and the hand on his arm was trembling slightly. It made him even angrier with Snape. He raised his eyes, meeting the Potions' Professor's gaze head-on. They looked at each other in intense, mutual dislike before Hermione managed to summon enough strength to pull Harry out of the room.
Out in the hall, Harry could feel everyone stopping to stare at them. News traveled quickly at Hogwarts and he knew that it would only be a matter of time before everyone in the wizarding community knew that 'The Boy Who Lived' had a girlfriend. The thought made him feel ill.
Hermione continued to tug him along, murmuring, "Ignore them, ignore them, ignore them…"
"It's rather hard when everyone's staring at you like you've suddenly sprouted green wings or something!" he muttered back.
Hermione stopped, glaring at him. "Well, I know it's difficult, Harry, but we did sort of bring it onto ourselves."
"Any other teacher would have thrown the note out and given us a warning. But nooooo… good old Snape… can't let anything good actually happen in my life…"
"Harry, get over it!" she cried, rather loudly, and people already listening leaned forward in anticipation. Hermione lowered her voice. "We have to find Ron. He's the one who's going to be most bothered. We have to find him now, before he hears anything else."
"Fat chance of that happening." Harry sighed, seeing the intense look of worry on Hermione's face. "Look, I'm sure he just needs to cool down or something. We can't force him to talk to us. We'll bring it up when the time is right."
"Harry… I don't want… I don't want anything to happen to… to break the friendship we all share…."
Now Harry was tugging her along. "Hermione, nothing's going to happen! Can we just get out of here???"
Hermione pulled herself out of his grasp. "Well I'm going to look for him!" she cried, apparently forgetting that they had a large audience.
"Fine!" he yelled back. People looked positively gleeful at the sight of them beginning to argue. "STOP STARING AT US!"
Hermione leaned closer to him. "Harry, kiss me," she said, quietly.
"What?" he asked, taken completely off-guard. "Now? Here? Are you mad?"
"Just do it!" she hissed. "Because then, at least, people won't be talking about what a large scene we made by yelling at each other."
"But then… then… they'll be talking about…" Harry couldn't even get the words out, the idea was too horrifying.
"I know," she said crossly. "But… oh, to hell with it." Leaning up, she pressed her lips to his, held them there for a second, before turning around and rushing off.
Harry stared at her retreating back, completely forgetting about his audience, and feeling that same baffled feeling of contentment rise in him. The moment was ruined, however, when Malfoy called out, "Hope you were using a breath mint, Potter!"
Harry scowled, ignored him, and trudged up to his dorm, hoping against hope that he'd be able to get some private time there.