Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
A/N: Some of you made a good point: there was barely any interaction between Harry and Hermione in the last chapter. I should have explained it in the beginning. I just intended this to be an opening chapter, where I wanted to write about Hermione's inner world. I tried to portray her as true to canon as possible, as in terms of obsessed with studying and being bossy, and yet she's desperate to love and be loved. And before I knew it, the chapter had gotten way too long. So I just cut it there. That was stupid, I know! But I'm planning to make this long, so things will evolve slowly. So basically, if you want a short romantic story, where the characters are making out by the end of the second paragraph, you shouldn't read it.
And ignore my poor verb tenses and such. Kat, who used to beta my novel-length fic (D/Hr), can no longer do that for me, since she's busy writing her thesis (which I should be doing too, instead of wasting my time on fanfiction), so I'm just doing without. And I can't be bothered to get another beta. So, there.
Okay, enough babbling, on with the story…
CHAPTER TWO
Misunderstood
Harry sat up in bed and smiled. Quidditch! He yearned after the regular Quidditch matches. Though now, when he became the captain, he felt slightly nervous, because he was responsible for the outcome of the games. But they had been training very hard ever since the school year began, so he set all his fears aside and made up his mind to win. He got out of bed and shivered from the cold - it was too early in the morning and the Hogwarts elves hadn't lit the fire in the fireplaces. Harry glanced around the dark bedroom and saw that everyone was sound asleep. On a moving poster that Seamus Finnigan had above his bed Aidan Lynch, Seeker for the Irish national Quidditch team, smiled broadly, gripping the golden snitch. Harry silently wished that he was as lucky today.
He walked over to Ron's bed and shook him, but his ginger-haired friend remained motionless.
"Hey, wake up, sleepy head!" he yelled in Ron's ear.
"What?" Ron sat up with a start and saw Harry's grinning face above him. "What is it, Harry? Are you daft, waking me up so early on a Saturday morning?!" he sounded very annoyed.
"Well, we have a Quidditch game to get to, but if you don't want to come, we'll get a substitute Keeper," Harry said calmly.
Ron's face lit at the mention of Quidditch, but soon fell at Harry's last words.
"Of course, I'm coming," he growled, getting out of bed.
"Good," Harry said, still grinning at his friend.
After they had a bite at the Great Hall, Ron and Harry headed for the Quidditch field. Luckily for them, the weather had cleared up and looked very promising. They were, however, not the only ones who enjoyed it.
When Hermione looked out of her bedroom window upon waking up, a smile crept up her face. The sky was clear, without a single cloud on it. Today would be the first Quidditch match of the year and she wanted to be there to cheer up her fellow Gryffindors. She especially wanted to give her support to Harry, who was the new captain. She was so proud of him! He was slightly nervous for the past weeks, working on complicated tactics, but Hermione knew that there was no call to worry and Harry would pull off this job as brilliantly as anything he did.
She quickly dressed and ran down for breakfast. The Great Hall was abundant with excited students, reminding her of other mornings before the Quidditch matches. She joined the others at the table and started eating her porridge, occasionally joining in the conversations around her. When Hermione finished her breakfast, she headed towards the entrance hall and then ran out of the castle. She smiled, breathing in the fresh crisp air through her nostrils. The day was beautiful indeed.
When she reached the Gryffindor stands, she took her place between her friends. She glanced at the opposite stands, which was a whirl of yellow and black. The upper rows were filled with overly enthusiastic Hufflepuffs. They were all wearing their yellow-black striped scarves and they even held up a banner with a black badger against the yellow background. The inscription above it read GO HUFFLEPUFF!!! in huge letters that were magically charmed to change colour.
Lavender and Parvati, who were sitting next to Hermione, could not take their eyes from the players on the field.
"This is so exciting, isn't it, Hermione?" Lavender squealed, trying to fix her binoculars.
"Yes, I have a feeling that it's going to be a great game," she agreed, glancing at the delighted spectators on all four stands.
She then looked down to the ground, squinting to see her friends. She could make out the fiery red hair of Ron and Ginny and raven-black, rustled hair of Harry. She waved to them and they waved back. Hermione sat back and prepared for the signal of Madam Hooch that would start the game.
Now that Lee Jordan was gone, the games were not the same anymore. Thomas Moon from Ravenclaw took over his duties of the commentator, but everyone missed the passionate and humorous comments of Lee. As a matter of fact she missed the other team members too. Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell were fantastic Chasers, whose cooperation yielded some brilliant results. But more than that she missed seeing Fred and George - not only irreplaceable Beaters, but her very good friends who always spiced up the atmosphere at Hogwarts. Despite that she was happy, because Ginny and Ron were now on the team and Harry was the captain.
Finally, at the signal of Madam Hooch, the players mounted their broomsticks and soared in the air. Hermione squinted at Harry, who winged his way between the hoops far away in the distance. Moon's remarks, whose voice was magnified by the sonorous charm, resounded over the field.
Very soon the game reached a very exciting point and the spectators gaped at the players who whizzed the air, trying to avoid bludgers and sending red quaffles through the hoops. The score was 50-30 and Gryffindor was leading so far. The crowd around Hermione cheered and saluted the Gryffindor players as they zoomed about on their brooms. She kept turning her head, trying to follow Harry's moves. Up till now Harry soared above the teams, unnoticed. Whether he spotted the snitch, no one knew, but Hermione believed that he was just feigning his failure to fool Sommersby, who was always at his heels.
At one point he slowed down, as he noticed the gleaming snitch beneath him. He was looking down at it and didn't see Zachariah Smith, the Hufflepuff Chaser, who was flying in his direction and was too fast to change his trajectory. The crash was unavoidable and Hermione gasped and closed her eyes in fear. But curiosity got the best of her and she opened them again. She saw Harry take a steep turn to avoid the other player. Smith was trying to do the same and, dropping the speed to the minimum, fell a few meters before he righted himself again. As a result he missed the quaffle and Ron scored a goal. Gryffindor was now ahead by the score of 70-40. The roaring Gryffindor stands were ecstatic and Hermione thought she would literally go deaf. But she couldn't contain her smile at seeing Harry safe and sound, still on top of his broom. She only now realized that her heart was beating very fast and her face was flushed. She glanced at Parvati and Lavender, but to her relief they hadn't noticed anything. But of course she was worried about Harry. He was her best friend. Her friend. And he had a history of Quidditch-induced injuries.
After his near fiasco, Harry decided to be more careful. After a series of intricate maneuvers he honed in on the snitch. He almost grabbed it and another cheer rose among the crowds. The elusive golden ball was always out of his reach, teasing him and making him giddy. Finally, when Hufflepuff scored another goal and Sommersby got distracted, Harry dove and closed his fingers on the snitch, in the process nearly falling off his broom again. The red and gold stands shook with loud and prolonged applause.
Harry dropped the speed and came into sight gripping the snitch in his right hand, his green eyes twinkling behind the spectacles.
"And Harry Potter managed to catch the snitch! Congratulations Gryffindor!" bellowed the voice of Thomas Moon, before he undid the spell by saying 'Quietus'.
Like an avalanche, the Gryffindor crowd poured down into the pitch. Harry flew closer, trying to look for Hermione, and when he spotted her, he waved at her. She laughed and waved back.
She was elbowing her way through the crowd towards him, when she saw something that made her stop. A Gryffindor fourth-year student, who Hermione knew by the name of Alice Whitaker, sauntered up to Harry and supported her ardent congratulations with a long kiss on his cheek. Harry blushed and a goofy grin was plastered on his face. He immediately agreed to pose for a photo and even signed it for her.
Hermione's face fell. She couldn't believe that this was Harry. He was oblivious to everything around him, allowing people to hug him and shake his hand. Not even once did he turn around and tried to look for her. No, he was too busy being popular. He hadn't even noticed that she wasn't there. Her lip quivering, she turned away, disgusted and hurt, and stomped through the crowd. She was leaving the Quidditch field with an unpleasant feeling in her heart that she could not explain.
She quickly walked across the corridors of the empty castle and then ran upstairs to her room. Once there, she slammed the door and threw her cloak on the floor. She marched to the window and peered at the Quidditch field that was still crowded with students. Harry was there, as usually being the centre of attention. Colin Creevey was talking pictures of him and everyone else was tugging at his sleeve, asking for an autograph. Angrily, Hermione pulled the curtains shut and threw herself on her bed.
"Harry Potter!" she mimicked the squealing voices of his fans. "Can I have your picture?"
"Oh, Harry! Can you sign my book?"
"Well, guess what?!" she pounded her fist on the poster of her bed. "I'm not going to wait in line to ask for your stupid picture! And I'm not going to worry about you when you fall off your broom! You can break your neck, see if I care!"
Tears gushed from her eyes and she buried her head in the pillow. Soon she heard the hooting Gryffindors in the common room, but didn't leave her room to join them.
While everyone in the common room was celebrating, a very dazed Harry was sprawling on the couch. He was tired - his body was still sore from the game and from being pushed and pulled by the crazed students. All he wanted right now was to crawl inside his bed and sleep. He looked around the room where his agitated friends were still sharing their impressions of the game. He had a feeling that something wasn't right. He looked around again. There, in the corner, were Ron, Ginny and Neville, but Hermione was nowhere to be seen. He remembered that she disappeared right after the game and for the first time in six years didn't even come up to congratulate him. He felt a twinge of disappointment. He wanted her to be there and celebrate with him. He really missed her. Why was she hiding then? Maybe she was ill? Yes, she must be, he thought to himself, because why else would she be staying away from him?
Revelry after the game with butterbeer and smuggled fire-whisky continued deep into the night until aggravated Professor McGonagall came and ordered them to go to their dorms, or she would annul the results of the match.
To the huge annoyance of the Hufflepuffs, the euphoria went on for many days.
* * *
While some people at Hogwarts celebrated the victory and the others couldn't hide their disappointment, Hermione Granger was lying on her bed, staring at the red-gold canopy above her head. She was thinking about Harry Potter, who she'd been skillfully avoiding for two days. Once or twice she caught Harry's astonished look, but refused to talk to him. And he didn't say anything to her either. In those moments when she missed him the most, she told herself that she was just being childish. What's the big deal? He was Harry Potter and he was popular since he was a baby. But whenever she thought of that girl, she was aboil with indignation, which she couldn't even explain. She wasn't jealous, was she? Of course, she wasn't. She was just angry that he preferred the company of some stranger to that of his best friend. And what's worse, she never saw him look that excited when she offered her congratulations in the past.
The next morning at breakfast Hermione was talking to Harry again. Or at least she tried to. Neither of them mentioned her strange behaviour and Harry was willing to forgive and forget. Even when she started lecturing him about his talent for procrastination when it came to his Potions homework, he was still tremendously happy. At least she talked to him.
Just when Hermione thought that their fragile peace was restored, the hell broke loose again. The girl who gave Harry a kiss after the match passed them by and waved enthusiastically at him. He grinned and waved back.
"That girl, Alice, she's pretty, isn't she?" Hermione ventured to ask, boring her eyes into him.
Harry shrugged. "She's okay."
"Just okay?!" she thought angrily. "You wouldn't be smiling like an idiot, if she was just 'okay'!"
She dashed down a glass of pumpkin juice, grabbed a toast and was off to the library without saying a word to Harry.
"What's got into her now?" he thought, surprised.
"Do you know why Hermione has been so distressed lately?" he asked Ron.
"Oh, don't bother," Ron said dismissively. "She probably got an 'outstanding' instead of an 'exceeds expectation' for her essay. You know, the usual."
But Harry couldn't believe that her mood swings had anything to do with school work.
When Harry entered the common room that evening, he saw Hermione transformed again. She smiled at him and even let him copy her homework, which she had never done before. But he could feel that her attitude was still a bit chilly. He watched her intently, still unable to understand why Hermione was so upset. Was it something he or Ron did? Suddenly he heard her sigh. He turned around and gave her an inquisitive look.
"Hermione? Are you all right?" he asked cautiously.
Her head shot up. "Oh yeah, I'm fine. Never mind."
And she buried her head in a pile of scrolls. Harry glanced at Ron, but he just shrugged and rolled his eyes. It wasn't until he asked her a seemingly innocent question that he found out what it was like to be on the receiving end of her wrath.
"I seriously don't get this, Hermione," he said, pointing to an underlined passage in the book. "Will you just explain it one more time?"
But Hermione didn't acknowledge his question.
"Hermione?" Ron called out again.
"What?" she barked.
"I asked you a question and you didn't even hear me. What's wrong with you, anyway? You've been acting really strangely lately."
"Stop asking me all these stupid questions!" she shouted at gaping Ron. "I don't have to tell you anything! And it's about bloody time you learned to do your homework without my assistance!"
With this she stormed out of the room and ran upstairs to her bedroom. Ron and Harry exchanged perplexed looks. They still continued to stare at Hermione's retreating back, when Ginny entered the common room and sat next to them.
"Hi guys," she greeted them. "Something I've missed?" she asked, seeing their expressions.
"Say, Ginny, did Hermione talk to you about something recently?" asked Ron, who was though genuinely hurt by Hermione's last remark, couldn't deny that she was right.
"No, why?" his sister looked at him surprised.
"She's not quite herself lately, throwing tantrums and all. I thought that maybe she told you."
"Oh, I don't know," she uttered thoughtfully and then came up with a traditional response. "Maybe it's too much homework. She spends all her free time in the library. I wouldn't be surprised if she sleeps there."
Again someone told him that homework accounted for Hermione's odd behaviour, but Harry didn't buy it. What if something happened to her and she didn't tell anyone? He had to find out, but right now he'd rather handle a Blast-ended Screwt. Harry sighed and went back to work on his Potions essay.
Hermione plopped down on her bed, gritting her teeth. Crookshanks jumped down from an armchair and came leisurely over to her. Absentmindedly, Hermione ran her fingers through his thick hair.
"Hey Crookshanks," she muttered, all anger slowly deflating out of her, like air from a balloon. "I think I feel something towards Harry, which I'm not supposed to feel. What do you think I should do?"
Crookshanks lifted his slightly crumpled face and looked at her. Hermione frowned.
"That's ridiculous! He's my best friend! You don't really think…?"
The cat just meowed and rubbed his ginger head against her legs.
"Oh why am I talking to a cat? Too bad you can't talk, Crookshanks," she sighed. "I really need an advice."