A Turn of Events

Disclaimer: The characters and the world of Harry Potter came out of the brilliant mind of JK Rowling. I’m just an admirer.

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1. Halloween

It was a nice Saturday morning at Hogsmeade. Even though the wind was a little chilly, the little village was packed with students from Hogwarts on their first visit of the school year. On that autumn day, the students’ energy was at one of its highest levels. It was Halloween. Not only they were all speeding from shop to shop enjoying sweets from Honeydukes, but they also had the prospect of the fabulous feast that night at the Great Hall.

Besides the sweet shop and the joke shop, the other place that was full to its capacity was The Three Broomsticks. In there, noisy students, mingled with a few villagers brave enough to go in with all that commotion, talk with each other over bottles of butterbeer, pleasantly enjoying their weekend. In a table close to one of the windows, eighteen-year old Hermione Granger was perhaps the only one not enjoying herself.

“I can’t believe this!” she said while looking angrily at a couple sitting at a table across the room to where she was.

“Would you let it go, Hermione?” asked Ron impatiently for what seemed like the tenth time. Then after taking another sip to his butterbeer, he added, “I just don’t see what’s wrong with her?”

“Of course you don’t, you’re a guy!” responded Hermione as if that was reason enough.

“Precisely ‘cause I’m a guy I can tell you this: nothing is wrong with her. Actually, I wouldn’t mind spending some quality time with her meself, if you know what I mean.”

Hermione let out an exasperated gasp and rolled her eyes to her redhead friend. “I always know what you mean. Honestly Ron, don‘t you ever think about anything else but snogging? There are other important things, you know?”

“Like what? Shagging?”

Hermione mumbled something under her breath that sounded like “boys...” and then went back to staring at the couple, or actually at the girl, while deeply wishing she could be able to jinx someone (meaning that girl) without using her wand.

The girl in question had long black hair, white shiny skin, pretty big gray eyes, was wearing soft pink robes, and her name was Angie Bluewater. It seemed that every piece of clothing in Angie’s wardrobe was in some shade of pink, with the only exception of her school uniform. Still, she would manage to add some pink to it here and there.

“It’s obvious that any idiot would be willing to do anything with her, but I never thought Harry’d fall for that.”

Ron, without paying much attention to the insult in Hermione’s words, took his drink in his hand and once again raised it to his mouth. Then placing it back on the wooden table, he looked at the place where Angie was animatedly talking to Harry Potter.

“So, what is it that really bothers you, the fact that Harry is talking to this particular girl, or the fact that he’s talking to a girl, period?” Ron asked while searching for an answer in Hermione's face.

Yes, seeing Harry dating or even talking to a girl, whoever this girl may be, was painful for her, but she didn’t feel like confessing this to Ron just yet.

Ever since the time Hermione and Ron, along with some other of their friends, had followed Harry into the Department of Mysteries in the Ministry of Magic looking for Sirius, she knew her feelings for one of her best friends had totally changed. Even when she had been quite sure that it wasn't the best idea, she stayed by Harry's side and helped him get into the Ministry until she was put out of the game.

After that day and all through their sixth year at Hogwarts, Hermione's feelings for Harry had grown deep and profound, but Hermione had always been sure that he didn't feel the same way about her. Now that he had gathered the courage to ask out the fifth-year Hufflepuff, she was totally sure of it.

"What bothers me..." she finally said looking away from Ron's intensive gaze, "is the fact that she's just using him. She's only interested in the famous boy who lived. She only wants to show him around as if he were a trophy, but has no real interest in Harry for who he really is."

"Do you?" asked Ron, even when he was pretty sure what the answer was. He had suspected for a while that Hermione had feelings for Harry, but now that he saw her so upset about Harry's new date, his suspicion had been confirmed.

For all answer Hermione rolled her eyes on him and looked again at the couple precisely at the moment when Angie passed one of her small white hands over Harry’s messy hair. That was the breaking point for Hermione. “I can’t take this anymore,” she said, and right after that she stood up and stormed out of the pub.

“Wait up!” called Ron and run after her not before drinking the rest of his butterbeer in one gulp. Ron reached the door as quickly as the crowd allowed him to, and had to run a little more to catch up with Hermione, who was already taking the road back to the castle.

The wind was stronger than when they had arrived at Hogsmeade earlier that morning. Of course, the fact that they were almost running made the wind that was hitting their faces feel even colder. Ron’s nose was beginning to get red from the cold wind. He sure was glad he had grabbed his cloak that morning before leaving his room.

Hermione wasn’t aware of the cold wind in her face. On the contrary, her face was hot out of anger and frustration. It wasn’t until they reached the castle’s stone steps that she realized they had arrived there in half the time it'd usually take them.

Ron tried a couple of times to tell her to slow down, but since he was out of breath, he hadn’t been able to say a word. When they got inside the castle, Hermione didn’t slow down until they were standing in front of the Fat Lady’s portrait. After giving her the password (Blue fairies) they climbed inside the Common Room.

The Common Room was almost deserted. Just a few second and first years were there since all the older kids were still in the village. Without much ceremony, Ron sank into an armchair by the fire, trying to catch his breath. Hermione stood by the window for a few minutes, lost in her thoughts, looking out to the grounds. A few minutes later, she came to the fire and sat in the floor next to where Ron laid.

“If it really bothers you that much, why don’t you talk to him?”

“Honestly Ron, you think he’s going to listen to me?” asked Hermione. She was quite sure that nothing she’ll say would get through to Harry, especially after she saw his dreamy expression when he was at the Three Broomsticks with Angie.

“Probably not.” In a way Ron agreed with Hermione, but still he wouldn’t mind being as lucky as Harry in the dating zone.

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Later that day, after Ron begged Hermione for about ten minutes, he convinced her to go to the Halloween feast. She wasn’t in the mood for it, but her empty stomach reminded her she hadn’t eaten anything since lunchtime. Reluctantly, she allowed Ron to drag her to the Great Hall.

The Hall was so noisy with all the students that had just come back from the village talking loudly over the four long tables about their day at Hogsmeade. Ron led the way and sat next to Seamus, who was showing Dean some of the things he bought at the joke shop. They had just sat down when Harry arrived and took a seat at the other side of the table right in front of Ron and Hermione.

“Hey, where were you? I was looking for you.”

“Ah, we… came back soon.” Ron said while looking at Hermione, but she didn’t say a word. Instead, she grabbed a spoon and started serving herself some food without even looking at what she was putting in her plate. “So, how did it go?” asked Ron, but as soon as he said this Hermione gave him a menacingly look that told him he had asked the wrong question. The last thing she wanted to hear was about Harry's date.

“It was… fine,” said Harry with a grin in his face.

Immediately after seeing Harry’s triumphant look, Ron anxious to know all the details, tried to make him keep talking. “So, did you two…” but suddenly a sharp pain in his right leg, where Hermione just kicked him, reminded him that she was still there. “… go to Honeydukes?”

Harry noticed that something was going on. He looked at Ron, then at Hermione, but both of them avoided his eyes. “It’s everything okay?” asked Harry.

“Yeah,” responded Ron quickly looking at Hermione.

Hermione realized that even though she was hungry, she wasn’t going to be able to swallow anything. So, she pushed her plate away, full of food she hadn‘t even touched. She decided to go to bed early. After all, she had already missed a Halloween feast before, she very well could do it again. She stood up and left the Great Hall leaving Harry wondering what was wrong.

Harry knew her too well to know that something was bothering her, but he also knew that it was better to leave her alone for a while and talk to her later when she had calmed down. “I’ll talk to her tomorrow,” Harry thought. “I’ll find out what’s wrong.”

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But Harry couldn't talk to Hermione the following day. He had arrived late for breakfast, Hermione was nowhere to be seen by then, and Angie had kept him quite busy all day long.

On Monday morning, the three of them were very busy with double advanced potions, nobody's favourite subject. They were more than anxious to get out of the dungeons when it was time to go to lunch.

During most of the first half of their lunchtime, all Harry and Hermione could hear was Ron's complain over the mountain of homework Snape had left for them. Since the teachers wanted them to get ready for their NEWTs, their workload had increased considerably.

"I don't think I'm ever going to be able to finish those essays," complained Ron. "Plus, I also have to work on that boring assignment from Professor Binns, and I still have to go to quidditch practice, as if that wasn't enough."

"We could reschedule this week's practice to the weekend," suggested Harry. He was now the new quidditch captain, and even when he'd hate to reschedule practice, since they needed to get ready for their upcoming match, he also had some work to catch up.

However, Ron didn't get a chance to reply as when he was about to open his mouth, Angie stood right behind him to face Harry.

"Hello Harry," she said in a very soft voice, perhaps just a little too sweet. That tone of voice reminded Hermione terribly of Dolores Umbrige. Angie didn't even bother to say hello to either Ron or Hermione, as if none of them were present. Without even paying attention to what she was doing, Angie placed one of her white hands on Ron's shoulder while she was talking to Harry about meeting him after classes.

Ron froze. He could not believe Angie was touching him. Fortunately, she was standing behind him and could not see his expression or the change of color of his face, a deep crimson. Hermione, who obviously saw the whole thing, tighten her grip on the fork she was holding, secretly wishing she'd be holding Angie's neck instead.

"Okay, see you then," said Harry. He didn't pay any attention to either Ron or Hermione's faces as he was following Angie with his eyes as she left the Great Hall.

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Harry couldn't believe his luck. He was pretty sure that every single guy in all of Hogwarts envied him. He was dating the most beautiful girl that had set foot in Hogwarts in probably the last hundred years, according to Ron of course.

Harry had been so afraid that his first date with Angie would turn out to be another fiasco as his one date with Cho was. He felt really pleased with himself to see that on the contrary, everything had gone as planned. He had been able to talk, walk and behave as a normal guy and not as the idiot he felt like.

He was indeed proud for he hadn't made a fool of himself in front of Angie. He had even kissed her and she hadn't cried or run away or anything like that. He definitely was a lucky guy.

However, something was not right, but he couldn't exactly tell what it was. To make matter worse, he sensed something was wrong with Hermione. All through the week she had been quiet and distant. He hoped she wasn’t mad at him. “But why would she?” Harry asked himself. “I haven’t done anything wrong, have I?”

No, he was almost completely sure that she wasn’t mad at him. “It must be something else. But what?” He also felt a little guilty ‘cause even when he had planned to make some time to talk to her, he hadn’t been able to. With homework, quidditch, classes, and Angie, he had been very busy.

2. A Night Talk

That Friday after classes, several students were at the Great Hall. Some of them were working on their assignments while others were playing wizard chess or just killing time waiting for dinner-time.

Harry and Ron were working on the essay Snape had assigned last Monday, while Hermione was rewriting an essay for Arithmancy. By mistake she had done the wrong assignment. She had realized she had opened her book in the wrong page when she was only a few inches short from what the Professor had assigned.

Neither Ron nor Harry could believe that she had made such a big mistake. If it happened to one of them, it would have been understandable. In fact, it had happened to Ron just a couple of weeks ago, but Hermione wasn't the kind of person who would so such a thing.

She had tried to excuse herself to her two friends, not doing that good of a job. She was so mad at herself for being so foolish, but most of all she couldn't believe that her mind was giving up on her.

Lately, Hermione was having a hard time concentrating in her classes and her work. The image of Harry and Angie seemed to be in her mind all day long not giving her a chance to think about anything else. Her work was beginning to show her lack of concentration and she hated that.

The previous year had been difficult for Hermione. Having to hide her feelings for her then “girlfriend-free” friend and act as always had not been easy, but now that Angie was in the picture, things were even more difficult for her.

She was trying very hard not to let out all of the feelings that were burning her insides. When Harry was around, she had to pretend things were okay, but if her mind would keep failing her she wasn’t going to be able to hide it from him any longer.

“Teachers shouldn’t be allowed to give us so much work!” complained Ron. He had finished Snape’s essay, but still had a couple more that were also due the following week. “I haven’t been able to finish up this week’s work and you know that on Monday they’ll give us another mountain of work.”

“Instead of wasting time and energy complaining, you should keep working,” said Hermione.

"So, what do you guys think about Angie?" asked Harry in a very casual way, as if he were talking about something as simple as the weather.

Ron immediately looked at Hermione. She only sighed and shrugged her shoulders.

"Well?" pressed Harry. "What do you think Hermione?"

She was not expecting him to direct the question to her, and wasn't quite sure he was going to like what she had to say.

"I prefer to keep my opinion to myself, if you don't mind," she said without looking up at him.

Harry looked at Ron trying to get a clue from him, but Ron avoided his eyes and pretended to concentrate in his essay.

"Why?" Harry finally asked Hermione.

She finally looked at him and after a couple of seconds responded. "Cause I believe that if one has nothing good to say about someone, then it's better to say nothing at all." Immediately after that, trying to keep Harry from asking anything more, she moved closer to Ron to take a look at the assignment he was working on. Then, she saw Angie was approaching them.

Without even saying a word, Angie went straight to Harry and kissed him on the cheek, a little too close to his mouth. Harry looked at Ron, blushing a little, and gave him a wide smile.

“There’s something I want to show you Harry, come!” Pulling his hand, Angie made Harry stand up. She then dragged him out of the Great Hall and out of sight. Ron would have given everything he owned to follow them and find out what it was she was going to show Harry.

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Dinner had already started when Harry came back with a pleased smile on his face. Ron was anxious to hear whatever it was Harry had to say, but the look in Hermione’s face kept him quiet.

It almost looked as if Hermione was in a state of cruel and harsh pain. “Relax,” she said to herself, but it wasn’t working. Her other self, the Hermione in love, couldn’t believe that as soon as Angie called him, he had run after her.

Then, looking across the Hall, at the Hufflepuff table, Hermione saw Angie whispering to her friends, who were giggling at whatever it was she was saying to them. Hermione was pretty sure they were talking about Harry.

She had overheard Angie talking to her friends in the girls’ lavatory the day before. Angie had seemed really proud of herself for turning Harry into a puppy in her hands. Hermione was sure Angie was only putting on a show to her friends to prove them she could do whatever she wanted with Harry, or with any other guy for that matter.

Hermione felt she needed to do something about it. Not just because she loved him and wanted him to be with her, but as the friend that she was. It just wasn’t fair for Angie to play around with anybody’s feelings. She just didn’t know what to do to make him see the real Angie.

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That night, Hermione couldn’t sleep. She had so many things in her head. She just kept tossing and turning in her bed. Frustrated, she lifted her head to see what time it was. The clock placed on the night table told her it was 12:49 a.m. (The clock actually talked to her and told her the hour. It also told her she was supposed to be sleeping.)

Thinking that she was just wasting time waiting for a sleep that could never come, she decided to make better use of it. She got out of bed, put her white night robe on top of her pajamas - white cami and baby blue pants - grabbed some of her books and walked out towards the Common Room.

She had expected the room to be empty by that time, but it wasn’t. When she was getting to the bottom steps she could hear the soft rustling of a quill moving across a piece of parchment. When she got to the last step, she could see who was at the table working late. It was Harry.

For a fraction of a second, Hermione thought about turning around and going back to her room, hopefully before he’d notice her. But it was too late.

He had also heard her coming down. She was barefoot and Harry could hear the sound of her feet hitting the stone steps. Harry had turned to see who was coming and was pleased to see it was Hermione.

“Can’t sleep?” asked Harry while inviting Hermione to sit down at the table with a movement of his hand.

Hermione wasn’t quite sure this was what she needed. The reason she had come to the Common Room was to take Harry out of her mind. Having him right next to her was not exactly going to help her.

Harry could see that Hermione seemed to be preparing to run away. He immediately remembered that she had been very distant from him all through the week. Had he done anything to upset her?

“Are you mad at me?” he asked with concern in his voice.

Hermione looked away trying to avoid Harry’s green eyes. No, she wasn’t mad at him, she just didn’t want to talk to him. Since she remained silent, Harry stood and walked to her.

When Harry was next to her, he put one of his hands in her arm, stroking it gently. Hermione realized that she had been holding her books against her chest a little too tight, as if her life depended on it. Her whole body tensed under Harry’s touch and she jumped as if his fingers had electricity.

“Hermione, what’s wrong?” Harry had noticed her reaction and felt even more worried.

Hermione walked away from Harry and went to the couches in front of the fire. She sat down, trying to gain control of herself.

“It’s nothing,” she finally managed to say.

Harry came and sat in the chair next to where she was, not convinced by her words.

“You don’t want to tell me?”

“It’s not that, Harry, it’s just that…” amazingly enough, she could not find words to get her out of this tight situation. To make matters worse, Harry’s eyes were examining her meticulously.

“Oh god!” Hermione thought. “I hope he won’t be able to see right through me.” Something she had no doubt he’d be able to do with such a penetrating gaze.

For a couple of minutes, Harry didn’t say a word. He sat back and stared at the fire. Hermione had no idea what was going on in his head. Finally, he leaned forward towards her and took one of her hands in his.

Hermione, even though she loved the feel of his hand in hers, thought about retrieving her hand. But after she saw a look of concern in Harry’s face, decided not to.

“Hermione, can I ask you something?”

Hermione started sweating. “Oh no,” she thought. “Please god, please, don’t let him ask me about that. Please!”

Since Hermione didn’t respond, Harry went ahead and kept talking.

“It’s uh,… it’s something personal, and you don’t have to answer me if you don’t want to.” He was also getting rather nervous, which only made Hermione feel even more nervous. “Hey, you can even slap me if I’m invading your business, I know that I shouldn't…’

“Harry…,” interrupted Hermione wanting to get it over with. “Just ask.”

“Okay.” He took a deep breath and then asked what he wanted to know. “Are you… you know, in those days… of the month?”

It took Hermione a couple of minutes to finally understand what he was talking about. For a second she had thought Harry was going to ask her about her feelings, but now she was this close from laughing. When she realized Harry’s mind had been into something completely different, she felt as if a great weight had been lifted of her shoulders.

Hermione’s mind, which always acts really fast, didn’t let her down this time. It started working at high speed.

Harry himself had given her the perfect excuse for her behavior. She could not believe it. That was great. She couldn’t help but wonder when had Harry become aware of her biological changes, but she thanked god for putting such idea in his mind, which now allowed her to give a perfect explanation to him. “How come I didn’t think about it?” Hermione wondered.

“Yes, Harry. I am.”

“Oh! I see,” said Harry now gently stroking Hermione’s hand, which was still in his, as if trying to soothe her. “That’s why she had such a look of pain during dinner,” Harry thought

“Does it hurt a lot?”

Hermione couldn’t help but smile. It was so nice of him to be this concerned about her. It definitely felt good to know he worried about her well-being.

“No,” said Hermione, but then she quickly added “Not any more.”

“Did you go to Madame Pomfrey?”

“No, I... didn’t.” She was hoping he wouldn’t offer to take her to the hospital wing.

“You should. I reckon she should have something that could help you.” Harry’s voice still sounded a little concerned.

“Don’t worry Harry. I’m better now.”

“Okay, but promise me that if don’t feel good tomorrow, you’ll go to the hospital wing.” Harry finally let go of her hand, and leaned back in the chair. “If you want, I can even go with you. I’d wait for you outside, of course, but I could walk you there.”

“I promise,” she said. Then, she thought, “as long as you keep holding my hand I can promise you whatever you want.”

After that, both of them relaxed and moved back to the table. Since Angie had distracted Harry that afternoon, he was trying to make as much work as he could. They were supposed to have quidditch practice the following morning and he also wanted to have some free time during the weekend to spend it with Angie. He, of course, didn’t say this to Hermione.

Harry was glad to see that Hermione was back to normal. She offered to help him out with his work and they both stayed in the Common Room for a couple of hours more.

3. Laughs and Tears

Hermione’s Arithmancy lesson had just finished. Since she needed to ask Professor Vector a few questions, she was the last one to leave the classroom. She started walking towards the library hoping to do some work before dinner. As she made a turn, she heard someone giggling behind her. Her curiosity made her turn to see who it was.

Angie and two of her friends were coming out of an adjacent classroom. Whatever it was they had been talking about, they immediately stopped as soon as they saw Hermione looking at them. Angie walked forward and stood in front of Hermione, just a couple of steps away from her.

“Hello Hermione!” said Angie in what could have been her sweetest voice. For some reason, that made Hermione’s temper rise. “Aren’t we looking great today?” said Angie while pulling up some of Hermione’s brown curls.

Hermione moved her head to free her hair of Angie’s hands. “What do you want?” asked Hermione in a not so friendly tone.

“That’s not nice, Hermione. You should be more friendly.”

“I already have plenty of good friends, I don’t need to make new ones.” Then changing her voice to a softer one, Hermione added, “As a matter of fact, I happen to be a very good friend of Colin Creevey.”

“So…”

“So… it just happens that he has such a great portrait collection.” Hermione started walking very slowly around Angie, who could not understand what Colin’s photos had to do with anything. “He was just showing me a very interesting photo the other day. You have any idea who’s in that photo?” Without waiting for Angie to respond, Hermione continued. “You, isn’t that great! Oh, but it’s not just any photo, no. It’s a photo of your Sorting Ceremony! Do you remember?”

The night Angie arrived at Hogwarts for the first time, it had been pouring. Making the trip from Hogsmeade Station to Hogwarts on boat had not been a pleasant ride. All of the students had arrived at the castle soaked. Not only that, but as Angie was stepping out of the boat, her foot had slipped on the muddy ground making Angie fall face down into a mud paddle.

No matter how much Angie tried to get the mud off of her face and hair, it seemed that every attempt only made matters worse. Even Filch had given her his nastiest look when he noticed the mud prints she left on the floor all the way to the Great Hall. That photo was certainly not one of Angie’s best looks.

Angie remembered very well that episode. Her expression said it all. Hermione smiled triumphantly looking at her. Then, she turned around to leave. After she took a couple of steps, however, she stopped and turned around. “I’m sure Harry will love to see it.”

“Don’t you dare!” Angie’s eyes were flashing with anger. “You’re just jealous! That’s what’s behind all of this, isn’t it?”

“Jealous? Of what? A mud pie?” Right after saying that, Hermione finally left, laughing at Angie’s angry face when she noticed her friends had laughed at Hermione’s words.

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Harry was anxiously waiting for Angie in the Entrance Hall. It was Tuesday after classes and Harry had agreed to take Angie for a ride in his firebolt after she begged him for hours. At first she had asked if she could borrow Harry’s firebolt, but Harry was very fond of his broom and would not put it in risk for anything. Plus, he knew Angie was not that good at flying. For that reason, and to take off the look of disappointment from her face, he proposed they’d take a ride together.

Harry looked at his watch for the tenth time to see that Angie should’ve been there half an hour ago. He walked towards the Great Hall and peered in through the big wooden doors. Several students were there, but Angie was not among them.

He thought about looking for her in the Hufflepuff Common Room, but he suddenly realized he didn’t know where it was. They had always met at neutral places and he had no idea in which direction their Common Room would be.

He also thought about looking for her in the library, but he was pretty sure she wouldn’t be there. Angie just didn’t like being in such a boring place (as she called it), and hated that Madam Pince would always tell her to be quiet.

Beginning to feel frustrated, Harry walked toward the great oak doors that led to the grounds. He walked to the edge of the stone steps and with his eyes searched the grounds looking for Angie. She was nowhere to be seen. For a while, Harry just stood there feeling the cold wind play with his raven messy hair.

"What are you doing out here?" Ron was standing right next to him. "Aren't you coming to dinner?"

Harry then realized he had been rooted to that spot for quite a while.

"Yeah, let's go."

"What were you doing out there anyway? It's kind of cold, isn't it?" said Ron as they began walking towards the Great Hall.

Harry explained to Ron how he had been supposed to meet Angie for a broom ride and that he had waited for her for more than an hour.

"And you waited for her?" asked Ron in an amazed tone. Even when Angie was the prettiest girl in school, he wouldn't have waited for her that long, or… would he?

"Well, yeah. I kind of lost track of time."

The two of them got inside the Great Hall and made their way towards the Gryffindor table. They had just sat down when Angie entered the Great Hall talking very animatedly with Ernie Rogers, the Hufflepuff's quidditch captain. In their match with Ravenclaw last Saturday, Rogers had turned into some kind of hero when he made an awesome save after being badly hit by a bludger.

Angie walked by where Harry was sitting, without even looking at him, arm in arm with Rogers. Ron's jaw felt to the ground at the sight of the two of them.

"Now we know why she kept you waiting."

Harry couldn't believe it. He was getting mad, but not precisely at the guy. What bothered Harry was that she had made him wait for nothing. He stood up and walked to where Angie was now sitting.

"Angie? Can I have a word with you... in the Entrance Hall?" Harry did not feel like putting on a show for everybody to see, but Angie was not willing to go.

"Can’t we talk later?" she said with that usual tone of hers.

Harry was getting even angrier. "What's she thinking? That I'm going to be waiting for her all the time?" thought Harry.

"You know, I was waiting for you..."

"You were?" asked Angie. By the puzzled expression on her face, Harry realized she forgot about their broom ride, and of course, about him.

"Never mind," he simply said and went back to Ron.

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Hermione was at the library when she realized she was very late for dinner. She had been working on some assignments that were due the next day. She was falling back in some work and that made her feel anxious. She always liked to start working on an assignment as soon as it was assigned, not like Harry and Ron who liked to wait until the due date was getting closer to work on it.

Lately, her mind was playing tricks on her. Always having a certain raven-haired handsome quidditch player in her mind was not helping her to keep up with her studies. Being this their last year at Hogwarts, which only meant NEWT year, made Hermione feel even more stressed about school.

Hoping she would at least be able to have some dessert, she gathered her things and left the library. Struggling to hold in her arms the books that didn't fit in her book bag, while running to make it to the Great Hall, she didn't notice she was running into someone. Inevitably, Hermione and all of her books ended up in the floor.

"CAN'T YOU SEE WHERE YOU'RE GOING?" yelled an angry voice at her. It was Malfoy.

Hermione ignored him and started collecting her things.

"Of course, it had to be you, Granger?" he said after he realized who had bumped into him. "So, those two idiots you hang out with finally got tired of you, didn't they?"

Hermione said nothing. She stood up holding tight her books tight to keep her hands from slapping Malfoy.

"I noticed Potter replaced you for someone else. Can't say I disagree with him, though. He finally realized that being around disgusting mudbloods is embarrassing and degrading."

Hermione wanted to say something back to him. She knew perfectly well she shouldn't pay attention to Malfoy's insults. She was kind of used to them since that was all he could ever say to her, but for some reason she couldn't ignore it this time. In fact, it was hurting her.

"At least his new girl looks good enough to show around, whereas you... who would ever want to be seen with you?" Malfoy started laughing at his own words, and without paying the least attention to the effect his words had on Hermione, he walked away.

Malfoy's words kept replaying in her head. "Who would ever want to be with me?" she thought. Forgetting completely about dinner, she headed to Gryffindor Tower instead. Since all of the students were still having dinner, the Common Room was empty.

If she had the energy, she would have gone all the way to her dormitory, but the tears that were now freely coming down didn't let her. Carelessly, she dropped the books and sank in a couch releasing all the feelings she had been holding for the last weeks. She felt so many things at the same time; it was too much to keep inside.

Then, the portrait hole opened and both Ron and Harry walked in. They had been wondering where she could be and decided to look for her in there. As soon as they entered, they noticed Hermione and the state she was in. Quickly, they went to her side.

"Hermione, what's wrong? What is it?" asked Harry. The sight of Hermione crying totally broke his heart.

When Hermione realized they were both standing there, anxiously waiting for her to speak, she felt a wave of embarrassment. She didn't want them, especially Harry, to see her like that. More especially, she didn't want them asking her questions. What could see say? How could she explain herself? Trying to avoid it, she quickly got up and tried to run towards the stairs.

Harry realized she was trying to get away and as fast as he could reached her before she was able to get to the stairs, and grabbed her arm. Pulling gently, he made her turn to face him. Ron, who was shocked by the whole situation, remained by the couch speechless.

"Tell me, what's wrong?" said Harry in a soft voice. "Did someone hurt you?" he asked in a stronger voice.

Hermione shook her head. "Please Harry, just let me go," pleaded Hermione with a broken voice.

"But..."

"Please..."

He finally let go. As soon as Harry loosened his grip on her, Hermione run upstairs before any of them could say or do anything else. Harry turned to Ron, with a look of concern in his face, but Ron just shrugged his shoulders.

Harry hated to see Hermione in that state, but most of all, he hated not knowing what was bothering her, not knowing how to help her feel better. But he was sure of one thing, he would give anything so that those pretty brown eyes would never have to look sad again.

-------------------------------

The following morning Hermione did not make it for breakfast. Harry was worried about her. If he didn’t have to go to class, he would have gone looking for her. Unfortunately, they didn’t have any classes together until after lunch.

Even though he had made a point to talk to her sometime during the day, he couldn’t. When he thought he was going to have some time to do it, Angie appeared out of nowhere and dragged him away whispering in his ear something that made him blush.

Since Ron didn’t have a girlfriend to keep him busy, he did find time to talk to Hermione. He had an idea as of what could’ve been the problem, but he didn’t know anything about Malfoy being the one who had driven Hermione over the edge.

Hermione needed to get out all the things that were eating her insides, so she told Ron all about Malfoy. They were in the Common Room sitting by the window.

“I can’t believe it, Hermione,” Ron was so upset, he could hardly keep his voice down. “You know better than that. You shouldn’t pay any attention to that scum bag. When has he ever said anything good to you?”

“I know Ron, I know. It’s just… it hurts, you know.” Hermione was playing nervously with a quill she had in her hands, avoiding Ron’s eyes. “It hurts, ‘cause I know it’s true.”

Ron looked at her as if he was ready to smack her to reality. He wished he could have Malfoy in front of him to kick the living daylights out of him.

“Hermione, how can you think that?”

“Malfoy doesn't have to lie to me, you know. He just pointed out what everybody can see."

"But he doesn't have a problem lying to you either, does he? You know he'd say anything to make feel bad, that idiot."

"And... you'd say anything to make me feel better."

Ron was beginning to feel frustrated with her and didn't know how to get through to her.

"Ron, you don’t have to lie to me. I know perfectly well what I am and what I’m not. I know I could never compete against girls like Angie. What Malfoy said was exactly what I’ve always thought.”

Perplexed, Ron looked at Hermione wondering where she had gotten such ideas. “So, you’re going to pay more attention to what Malfoy told you than what I’m telling you?”

“Ron, please don’t take this personal.”

Feeling frustrated, Ron stood up and started to pace around. Hermione trying to calm him down so that he wouldn’t start yelling – then everybody would hear what they were talking about – stood right next to him. Grabbing him by the arms, she made him stop.

“Ron, whatever you do, please... don’t tell Harry anything about this. Please!”

Ron opened his mouth to say something, and then closed it back again. “I just can’t believe you.”

4. Mixed Feelings

Nothing Ron said to Hermione made her feel any better. Her self-esteem was lower than ever before. Every time she’d see Harry walking along the corridors hand in hand with Angie, she felt like she was standing in quick sand, sinking deeper and deeper.

She was slowly falling into a state of depression that was beginning to show in her studies as well as her mood. She was not able to concentrate in her classes; especially in those Harry also attended since she’d spend most of the time staring at him (When he wasn‘t looking, of course). She now had a big pile of work to do, almost as big as Ron’s would usually get. That made her feel even worse.

A week passed and it only made matters worse for Hermione, since almost every teacher assigned them more work to do. It was Monday morning and Hermione was looking absentmindedly at her plate of eggs and bacon, which she had barely touched, trying to figure out how she was going to be able to catch up on her work.

She had been so distracted she almost didn’t notice Ron calling her.

“C’mon Hermione, you don’t want to be late for class, do you?”

She quickly grabbed her book bag and run after them.

Harry had noticed that something was different about her, but had no idea what it was. As they were running to their class, he tried to talk to her.

“Are you okay Hermione?” he asked with concern in his voice. Since she didn’t even look at him, he added, “You don’t look good.”

“Just what I need” she thought. “Harry telling me that I don’t look good. As if I wasn’t aware of that.”

“I have a lot of work to do, that’s all,” she managed to say. After that, she didn’t say a word at all during class.

-----------------------------

After the morning classes were over, Ron and Harry were getting ready to go to lunch. Hermione, however, told them she first needed to find Professor Flitwick and that she'd meet them at the Great Hall. About fifteen minutes after the guys had sat down at the Gryffindor table, Hermione arrived.

"Just wanted to let you know I won’t be going to Charms.” Hermione said as she grabbed an apple from the table.

“Why not?” asked Harry. This certainly was out of character. Hermione wasn’t the kind of person who would skive off lessons.

“I talked to Professor Flitwick. He said today’s class is basically going to be a review to get us ready for the exam we’ll have next week. Since I can review on my own, I asked him if I could skip his class so that I can do some of the work I have piled.”

Ron and Harry looked at each other in amusement. For Hermione every single class was important, even when the professors were only reviewing for a test. As a matter of fact, she thought those reviews were very important since she could ask any questions she could have about the upcoming exam. But now, she was going to miss it. It really was odd.

“Are you really that behind in your work?” asked Harry. He just could not understand how Hermione had fallen back. She always had a set schedule, and she’d follow it to the minute.

Hermione looked at her wristwatch and after giving a big bite to her big green apple, quickly added while standing up preparing to leave.

“Yes. I must go now, gotta make use of every possible minute."

“Aren’t you gonna eat?” asked Ron. To him nothing was more important than the three sacred meals (Breakfast, lunch and dinner) and skipping them to study was definitely not something he’d do. "How can you study on an empty stomach?"

But Hermione didn’t respond to Ron. She probably didn’t even hear him since she was almost halfway out of the Hall by the time Ron’s words had completely come out of his mouth, and before either one of them realized, she was gone.

-------------------------------------------

That night at the common room, Hermione felt that at least she had one less thing to worry about. Skiving off Charms, as well as lunch, had given her enough time to catch up on her work. Since she had begun to panic about the big pile she had of homework, some of those assignments were due the next day, she had promised to herself she’d stay focused and get it done.

Now she was taking a well-deserved break in her favourite chair by the fire. Dean Thomas was sitting next to her. The two of them had been talking animatedly about their growing up in the muggle world. They were sharing funny stories of moments when without realizing it, they’d made things “happen” and how muggle kids would react to that.

Dean had just told Hermione about one time when he had been chased by a ferocious dog and had suddenly found himself inside his neighbor’s car without doing a thing, and then having to explain to his neighbor how he had managed to get in since the car had been locked, when Harry and Ron entered the common room.

They had been out for quidditch practice. Their faces were pink due to the cold wind that had been hitting their faces as they rode their brooms. As soon as they walked in, Harry heard Hermione’s distinct laughter echoing through the room.

A feeling Harry had never experienced before started to fill him up. There she was laughing her head off with this not-so-bad looking young wizard, who was looking at her in a way that didn’t make Harry feel any better. A sudden rage took him over and before he had time to analyze his reaction, he was standing right in front of them, his fists clenched.

“Aren’t you supposed to be working?” he said in a very harsh tone.

Both Dean and Hermione’s laugh ended. They look curiously into the face of the angry man they had in front.

“Uh… I already finished,” said Hermione. She felt awkward. Most everybody in the room were paying close attention to the situation after hearing Harry’s angry voice. Dean, who could not understand what was the problem, stood up trying to interfere, but that only made Harry feel more irritated.

"Hey man, we're just talking," Dean tried to calm Harry down.

"Stay out of this!" Harry yelled back at him. Then looking at Hermione, he continued interrogating her in the same aggressive way. “Are you sure you finished? You sure made it sound like you had a lot to do.”

“Yes, I’m sure,” responded Hermione in a stronger way. She was beginning to feel upset about Harry’s attitude.

“Really? ‘Cause if not the only ones suffering are going to be Ron and I since we’re the ones who have to deal with you.”

The entire room fell silent by now. Even though almost no one knew how the whole thing had started, they were now paying close attention to Harry and Hermione’s argument.

Hermione was feeling angrier by the minute. She had never expected Harry to see her as a problem he had to deal with, but most importantly she never thought he was going to tell her that having all Gryffindor house as witness.

“Don’t worry Harry, you won’t have to deal with me anymore.” Right after she said that, Hermione stormed out through the portrait hole.

All she wanted was to be alone. She knew perfectly well that it was late and she should not be out of Gryffindor Tower, but she didn’t care. Plus being Head Girl allowed her to walk around the corridors at night since she was supposed to keep an eye on the rest of the students.

Without caring about not making too much noise, she run nonstop until she found herself in the Astronomy Tower. She usually would come here to take a break, enjoy the view, or simply find a moment of peace and tranquility. At that time, she just wanted to get away.

So many things were twirling inside her head as the incident in the Common Room replayed in her mind. Why was Harry that angry with her? What had she done to make him this upset?

Maybe something happened at quidditch practice, but if that was the case, it wasn’t her fault. He shouldn’t have exploded with her like that. The fact that she was his friend did not give him the right to vent his angry feelings in her, especially not with all the Gryffindor student body looking.

Then, Hermione remembered Harry’s last words. Talking about her as if she was a pest, something annoying he had to deal with. What made Hermione feel even worse were not the words themselves, but the way Harry had said them. With such anger.

Was she a burden for him? Was that the way he had always felt?

If Hermione had been feeling bad the previous days, this made her feel even worse. How could she not notice that Harry felt this way? And perhaps, what troubled her the most was that the possibility of Harry having feelings for her was farther away than before.

If he only saw her as a problem, now that she was supposed to be his friend, for sure, he was not likely to ever see her as anything more.

-------------------------------------

The Common Room was almost deserted by now. After the episode, Harry had sunk in the floor by the fire and had not moved since. Not wanting to turn Harry on again, Ron went to his room without saying a word to him.

Harry could not believe what had just happened, or better said, he could not understand it. “What the hell was that?” he kept asking himself over and over for almost an hour. He could not explain what had taken over him.

He had had a good day, practice had gone well, he had even had some free time to spend with Angie. All day long, things had been fine. He had been fine, until the moment he saw Hermione talking to Dean. “But why did that bother me so?” he thought.

The fact of Hermione talking to another guy had not exactly been the problem. He’d seen her do that every single day. What really bothered him was to see how much she seemed to enjoy it. She was laughing in a way Harry had rarely see her, especially lately that she had been so weird, so serious, so absentminded.

But most of all, what tormented Harry were the cruel words he had said to her. He hadn’t mean them at all. He wasn’t even sure why he had said that. He was so angry with himself, he felt like banging his head on the wall, Dobby style.

Harry knew that no matter how hard he could punish himself, he’d never feel as bad as Hermione for sure had felt. Even though her words had been cold and distant before she left, he knew she was hurt. Harry saw it in her eyes. He had hurt one of the persons he cared most about, and that alone made him feel like the smallest, filthiest, most disgusting scum there was.

Suddenly, the Fat Lady’s portrait flew open and Hermione walked in. It was past midnight. She stayed that late at the Astronomy Tower hoping that by now everyone would be in their dormitories. She had not expected Harry to still be there.

As soon as Hermione realized Harry was there, she tried to go upstairs as quickly as she could. Harry, who sensed her presence more than heard her come in, moved faster than her. He got up in one jump as if he had been sitting on a spring and in two quick steps he was standing next to her.

To keep her from running away, Harry grabbed one of her arms.

“I need to talk to you,” he said urgently.

Hermione looked up at him, and then at his hand holding firmly her arm. Harry, however, was not willing to let go of her until she’d agree to hear what he had to say.

“Please,” he implored.

Hermione let out a sigh of resignation and once again looked at his eyes. Seeing that she was willing to listen, he loosened his grip on her just a little while gently pulling her to make her sit at the red couch.

“Hermione,” he said after they both had sat down. He didn’t even know where to begin. “I’m so sorry. I know you’re mad at me… and I know you’re right.” Feeling like he couldn’t find the right words to make her see how sorry he was, he stood up and started pacing in front of the chimney.

“I don’t know what the hell was wrong with me. I don’t know why I got so mad, but I do know that I had no right to treat you like that.” He kneeled in front on her and took one of her hands into his. “Hermione, I know I hurt you.”

Hermione looked away. She didn’t want him to look into her eyes and see just how much his words had hurt her, how bad she felt about it.

“I didn’t mean it, Hermione, any of it. You know how much you matter to me. I didn’t want to hurt you, I…” He was again having difficulty to find the right words. She meant so much to him and to put it into words was not an easy thing to do. There weren’t enough words to describe all she represented to him.

Frustrated with himself for doing such a lousy job at apologizing, Harry leaned his face and rested his forehead on her knees. Hermione didn’t know what to think. She was no longer mad at him, she could never stay mad at him, but she felt hurt, sad.

Still, a part of her also felt sorry for him, seeing him like that. Making an effort to give her voice a normal tone, she finally spoke.

“It’s okay Harry, don’t worry about it.”

Harry raised his head and saw her brown eyes looking lovely at him, but before he could even say a word, she stood up.

“I’m going to bed now. Night Harry.”

He stood up and saw her climb the stairs. Even after hearing her say that it was okay, he didn’t feel any different. He was still mad at himself, but now he was also wondering what it was he had seen in Hermione’s eyes.

5. A Busy Mind

The next day, Harry had gotten up early, not wanting people to look curiously at him after the show he had put on in the Common Room last night. Ron saw him as he walked out of the dormitory and decided to get up as well and talk to him, got dressed quickly and run downstairs.

To his relief, Harry was sitting by the fire. Ron wouldn't have fancied looking for him all over the castle. He went ahead and sat in the chair next to where Harry was sitting. They were the only two people in the room.

After a couple of minutes of silence, Ron was first making sure Harry's temper was calm so Harry wouldn't start yelling at him too, Ron spoke.

"Are you alright mate?"

Harry looked at him realizing for the first time that Ron was there. “Yeah,” said Harry softly. He wasn’t quite sure if he was alright. He still had a lot of things in his mind.

Ron saw Harry’s mood was calm, so he decided it was safe enough to push things forward. “What happened last night... you know, with Hermione?”

“I don’t know Ron. I seriously don’t know what happened to me,” said Harry honestly, while looking intently at the fire crackling in front of them.

“We were talking just fine, next thing I know, you were at the other side of the room, yelling at her.”

“I was such an idiot!“ Harry stood up. He passed a hand through his hair. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

Harry started pacing in front of the fire. This was just what he needed, someone to talk to get out all the things he had in his mind.

“I talked to her last night, you know, after everyone was gone to bed.”

“And…”

“Well, she didn’t say much. She didn’t look good, though,” said Harry as he stood by the fireplace. “But she didn’t argue with me or anything. And you know what?” he said as he went back to the couch and sat down. “I think I would have preferred her yelling at me, telling me what an idiot I had been, or … anything, you know. So that I could know what was on her mind.”

Ron looked at Harry for a few minutes then said, “Well you know she’s been a little weird lately.” Harry looked at him remembering that Harry himself had been wondering about that just a few days ago.

“And then after Malfoy…” realizing he had almost said what Hermione had asked not to, Ron stopped.

“After Malfoy what? What did he do?” demanded to know Harry.

“Uh, uh… I was going to say… that after Malfoy, nobody has made her feel so bad before.” Ron felt silent, he had almost blown it. Then thinking about what he had just said, Ron added, “Well, now that I think about it, I also have made her feel bad. Remember that time first year I told her she was a nightmare? And then that crookshanks-eating-scabbers episode, third year. And then…” Ron was shaking his head by now, “Blimey Harry, I have upset her quite a few times. It’s a miracle she’s still talking to me, you know.”

“Yeah,” said Harry now feeling a little better about his messing up. “We’re both lucky to have her.”

----------------------------

Harry was glad to see that Hermione didn't seem angry with him at all the following days. She hadn't even mentioned their argument not even once. Even when Harry still felt bad about the whole thing, her ignoring it made him feel a bit more relaxed.

There was something else that seemed to be going around his mind lately. It was about Angie, but not in the typical way a boyfriend would think about the girl of his dreams. He had been mostly wondering why he was dating her in the first place.

When they had started the school year, Harry began to notice that Angie was paying a little more attention to him than before. In fact, he had never before crossed more than a hello with her the previous years. But suddenly, he really had no idea why, she had started flirting with him.

That had taken Harry by surprise. He had never had a girl flirt with him like that. Angie found a way to get in his mind. He could not believe a girl like her was interested in him and that was quite flattering.

For that reason, eventually, he was able to get the courage needed to ask her out. Now, however, he wasn't sure he had done the right thing. Harry could not point out one thing that he and Angie had in common, other than attending Hogwarts.

At that time, Harry was at The Three Broomsticks with Angie. It was the last Hogsmeade visit before the end of term. In two weeks, Christmas would be upon them. Angie had been talking all morning to Harry about a Christmas party her parents would be hosting. It was supposed to be quite an event. The Minister himself would be among the guests.

However, Angie had not mentioned, not even once, anything about inviting Harry to the party, not that he wanted to go, but at least he'd know that she remembered he existed. Harry was pretty sure Angie knew that he'd be staying at school during the holidays, almost everybody knew that.

"Harry? Harry!" said Angie.

Harry had been deep in his thoughts he had not heard she was talking to him. Well he knew she was talking, she had been doing most of the talking all morning, but he hadn't realized she was asking him something.

“Oh, sorry. You were saying?”

“I was asking you which of this two robes you like the most,” she said while pointing to two pictures she had on the table. In the pictures, witches were modeling some nice evening robes. Harry could not see any difference between the two except for the color, one was a soft lilac the other was pink, of course.

“It’s for the party,” said Angie. She seemed very excited about it and was anxiously waiting to hear Harry’s opinion.

“Well,” Harry wasn’t sure what to say. To him both robes looked great, but obviously that wasn’t what Angie expected to hear. “Why don’t you ask one of your friends? A girl would know more about this than me.”

“I want to know what you think,” she said. Then leaning closer to Harry she pointed out some of the differences to Harry.

“I like them both,” Harry finally said.

“You do?” asked Angie a little disappointed.

To Harry’s great relief, at that time two of Angie’s friends walked in and sat down with them at the table. As soon as they saw the two pictures on the table, they jumped with excitement and started asking Angie which of the two she had decided to buy.

All of Angie’s attention turned to her friends. Harry couldn’t feel happier about it.

-----------------------------------

Later that night, Harry and Ron were in the Common Room playing wizard’s chess. Harry’s attention was definitely not on the game. He had made a couple of moves without paying much attention to which piece he was moving or in which direction.

“Where are you mate?” asked Ron realizing that Harry’s mind was far away from the game.

Harry let out a sigh and leaned back in the chair he was sitting on.

“Is it Angie?” pressed Ron.

“Why you think it’s her?”

Forgetting about the game, Ron moved it to the side and leaned forward placing his elbows on his knees, one of the chess’ pieces still in his hand.

“Don’t seem as excited about her as before, you don't.”

“Is it that obvious?” said Harry, a little more to himself than to Ron.

“Yeah.” Ron scratched his head thinking.

"I don't know what's happening," said Harry looking intently at his shoes. "I've doing some thinking..."

"And..."

"I can't figure out why I hooked up with her on the first place."

Ron looked at Harry with a puzzled expression. "If I was the one with her, I could find loads of reasons."

"Honestly Ron!" said Harry while loosening his tie. "That's not all I care about."

Ron looked down. Even though he would give his right leg to be with a girl like Angie, he could still understand what Harry meant. "Yeah, I know. It's just... you were so excited about going out with her, and you've been together for like, what? Couple of weeks. I don't understand what happened so quickly to turn you down."

Ron started putting back the wizard's chess' pieces into their wooden box. Then, he remembered something. "Hang on, has this anything to do with that bloke she was with the other day?"

"Who?"

"You know, the quidditch captain, Rogers."

"Oh,” Harry had totally forgotten about that incident. "No, it's got nothing to do with that."

"What is it then?"

Harry had asked himself that same question all day long, and he thought he had found the answer.

"We're so different."

"Course you are, she's a girl and you're a guy," said Ron trying to bring some humor into the conversation, but as soon as he saw the killer look of Harry, realized it wasn’t a good idea.

"We just don't have anything in common. She's so... girly, you know. Don't give me wrong, I kind of like that, but sometimes it's a little too much. It's like... she never talks about Voldemort or anything that's happening out there as if by ignoring things, they'd just go away. I can't do that. I know I'll have to face them. And it’s not like I’m looking for a partner to fight with, you know, but… I don’t know, at least someone I can talk to about it.”

Ron sighed. He understood how Harry felt. “I know what you mean,” he said. “Well, what are you going to do about it?”

“There’s only one thing I can do.”

Ron nodded. There was no need for Harry to spell it out. He was going to break up with Angie. “Well, I reckon Hermione’s going to be very happy about it.”

Harry looked at Ron wondering what he meant by that. Ron realizing he was, once again, saying a bit more than he should, stood up and grabbed his chess set hoping to get away before Harry could ask anything more. But Harry wasn’t going to let him go that easily.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you know…” said Ron, trying to find the right words. “She’s never liked Angie. Don’t you remember that time you asked her what she thought? She didn’t have anything good to say about Angie, did she?”

Harry’s face turned into an understanding expression. Ron was right. Hermione had never liked Angie. “I reckon it must be some kind of a sixth sense that women have.”

“That Hermione has, you mean. I don’t think all women are as clever as she is,” added Ron, relieved to see that Harry seemed content with that explanation.

Before he could get himself in hot water again, Ron got up and prepared to get away. “Hate to leave you mate, but I must get my beauty sleep, you know,” once he said that, he run upstairs, leaving Harry with one resolution in his mind.

---------------------------------

Breaking up with someone was a lot easier said than done. Harry had had many opportunities to break up with Angie during that week, but at the last minute, he’d get tongue-tied. Still, he wanted to talk to her before she’d leave for the holidays on Saturday morning.

When Friday finally came, Harry realized he couldn’t keep pushing it aside. He asked Angie to meet with him at the Entrance Hall after dinner. Harry was planning on taking Angie to the Room of Requirement, so they could have some privacy, and talk to her there. It was too cold to meet outside. It had been snowing all day.

However, things were not as difficult as Harry had thought. Once he got out of his mouth what he had been trying to say all week, he realized Angie wasn’t surprised. She even seemed kind of relieved.

After Angie left, Harry stayed at the Room of Requirement for a couple of hours. Even though he had just taken a big load off his shoulders, he felt he needed some time to be alone. When he realized he it was getting late, he headed back to the Common Room.

Ron, who knew where Harry had been, was anxiously waiting for him. He had a couple of books spread on the table, a piece of parchment in front of him, and a quill in his hands. It seemed as if he was doing some work, but when Harry sat next to him, he saw Ron had been playing hangman.

“Is that what you’re turning in for your potions assignment?”

“Course not, I was playing with Seamus, but he just went upstairs, he hadn’t packed,” said Ron while pushing away the quill. Then turning around in his chair to face Harry, he asked, “So, how did it go?”

“A lot better than I thought, actually.” Harry leaned back in the upholstered chair and looked at Ron. Since it was Friday, end of term, the Common Room was packed with students ready to start their holidays by staying up late.

Harry searched the crowd looking for his brown bushy haired friend, but she wasn’t in the room. “Where’s Hermione?” asked Harry.

“She went to bed early,” replied Ron, but he quickly changed subject as he was more interested in finding out about Harry’s break up. “Why you said it went better than you thought? Wasn’t she upset?”

“I think what really upset her,” continued Harry forgetting about Hermione, “was that it was me the one breaking up and not her. Oh, and you know what? I think she’s seeing that Rogers bloke.”

“I knew it! Well… I guess it serves her right. He’s as shallow as she is.”

Harry chuckled at that. He felt more relaxed than how he’d been feeling all week, but there was still something there, in the back of his head, that didn’t totally let him unwind.

6. Awakening

That night Harry had a lot of trouble to go to sleep. Even though he was relieved about not having to worry about Angie anymore. He felt he still had something pending, something he had forgotten.

Harry kept moving in his bed, trying to find a comfortable position hoping sleep would come, but it made no difference. Finally, he was laying on his back with both his arms placed under his head, staring at the top of his four-poster. He was trying to figure out what it was he had forgotten.

Then, it hit him. He realized that what wasn’t letting him sleep was a feeling of guilt. During the month and a half he had been drooling after Angie, he had paid little to no attention to his two best friends, especially to Hermione.

Since Ron was also in the quidditch team, they had practices together. Even when the other team members were also present, it was time he and Ron spent together. Things were different with Hermione.

As far as Harry could remember, since that night he and Hermione had been together at the Common Room, after he asked her about her not-feeling-good-those-days-of-the-month thing, they had not spent quality time together at all.

Now that he came to think about it, during the last month, even when most of his senses were focused on Angie, a little part of him had been aware of Hermione’s presence. He had noticed how her attitude and her mood had been changing drastically, from angry to disappointed, to quiet, to sad.

He knew that lately Hermione had been awfully quiet. That certainly was not common for her. She always had something to say. Of course, the fact that he hadn’t been around her that much could also be why he hadn’t heard her talk. But he knew something was wrong.

“It could be that she’s stressed about NEWTs,” Harry told himself. Somehow, that didn’t fit either. Harry had seen Hermione stressed about school way too many times before. This was different. “It must be something else, but what?”

“Could it be that she’s still mad at me ‘cause of that incident with Dean? I did find it weird that she didn’t yell at me. She seemed very distant when I was apologizing to her. I sure hope that’s not it.”

“The good thing,” he thought, “is that now with the holidays coming up, we’ll have some time to relax. Well, we have loads of work to do, but even just working together shall be fun, like always. Yeah, I’ll make it up for her.”

Harry was determined to find some time to help Hermione forget about school and about anything else that could be bothering her during the holidays. “I’ll make sure we save at least one full day to have some fun. We could even sneak out to Hogsmeade.”

And with that idea in mind, his head was finally able to slow down and let the much-needed sleep take him over.

------------------------------

The next morning, Harry woke up well into the morning to find the room empty and quiet. It had been really late when he had been able to go to sleep. He stretched his hand out to reach his glasses. After he put them on, he saw the clock on his night table and realized it was 11:30 in the morning.

Feeling a little frustrated about loosing almost all morning sleeping, he got up and went to take a quick shower to help him get the sleep off of him. When he finally made it to the Common Room, he found Ron and Ginny playing exploding snap, sitting on the red carpet by the fire. They were the only people on the room.

Harry went to them and sat lazily in one of the big comfy armchairs.

“Look who’s up! I thought you were going to spend the holiday sleeping,” said Ron with a teasing smile.

Without responding to him, Harry asked, “Where’s Hermione?”

“She’s gone,” replied Ginny.

Harry sat up quickly, looking anxiously from Ron to Ginny. “What do you mean she’s gone? Gone where?”

“Gone home,” responded Ron. “She went home for the holidays.”

Harry’s mouth fell to the ground. He wasn’t expecting this. He had planned on the three of them being together for the holidays, having a good time.

Seeing Harry’s dumbstruck expression, Ron said, “She must’ve decided it last minute. She didn’t say anything last night, but this morning she came out carrying her trunk.”

“She said she wanted to work on her assignments at home so she’d have no distractions,” added Ginny.

“Rotten luck,” said Ron going back to his game. “I wanted her to help me with that mind-breaking essay Snape gave us, you know.”

But Harry wasn’t listening anymore. He could not help but feel disappointed. All of a sudden he was pretty sure this was not going to be a happy Christmas.

-----------------------------------

The two weeks of holidays went by very slowly to Harry’s taste. Both he and Ron had been too busy trying to complete all of the work they had been assigned. It seemed that the teachers were not willing to give the seventh years much of a break during the holiday. They sure wanted to make sure students would be ready for their final examinations.

No matter how much Ron would complain, they had no choice but to work on that during most of their two weeks off. Not even Christmas gave them much to be joyful about, especially to Harry. He missed having Hermione around.

Harry was expecting to, at least, get a letter from her for Christmas saying she was missing them terribly. But that letter never came. On Christmas morning, Harry and Ron woke up to find a box of chocolate frogs each on their beds and a brief note from Hermione saying a simple “May you have a Happy Christmas.”

“At least I won’t have to share my chocolates with you, mate,” said Ron. But Harry didn’t care about that. He’d even give Ron his own box willingly. He only cared about the cold note Hermione had sent them. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t received a more thoughtful gift from her like the ones she’d usually give him. Nor it mattered that the box had been wrapped in plain brown paper, not the usual shiny-coloured Christmas muggle wrapping paper.

Her note seemed so distant, so cold. As some card you’d give to a stranger just to be courteous. It was far from a warm greeting you’d send to your best friend. “Unless,” Harry thought, “she’s still mad at me. I was hoping she’d forgiven me by now. I’m gonna have to talk to her as soon as she gets back.”

--------------------------------

The Sunday students would be getting back to school arrived at last. The Hogwarts Express brought them back just in time for dinner. Harry and Ron were sitting on either side of the Gryffindor table watching as all of the newcomers marched their way to their house's table.

Finally, that bushy brown-haired girl Harry had been waiting for appeared among the crowd. She didn’t seem to be in much of a hurry to sit at the table as all of the other students. Slowly, she made her way to where Harry and Ron sat, as if she was indecisive about sitting down.

Harry, who had been saving a space for Hermione next to him, patted the seat inviting her to sit down. For a fraction of a second, she stood there looking at the spot Harry was saving for her. Finally, she sat down.

“Hello Hermione!” said Ron with a wide smile on his face. “Had a good holiday?”

“Yeah.”

Harry looked at her face intently. Her face was clear of any emotions. She didn’t seem tired after an all day train ride, nor she looked hungry. He couldn’t tell anything at all from her face.

“You okay?” he asked softly.

“Yeah.” She said nothing else.

All through dinner Hermione remained quiet. Harry could feel that her body, next to his, was tense, and she wasn’t eating that much. He looked at Ron wishing he could send him a message with his mind. Ron, who was also aware of Hermione’s weird state, shrugged his shoulders.

When dinner was over, they all started to head to their respective Common Rooms. Hermione got up and started walking without paying attention to whether Harry and Ron were following her or not.

Once the three of them were in an empty corridor, Harry, who could no longer take her silence, grabbed her by the elbow, and turned her to face them.

“Are you mad at us?”

“No,” she simply said.

“Are you mad at me?” he pressed thinking that maybe the problem was just with him.

“No,” she responded in the same calm, cold tone of voice that showed no sign of emotion. She then tried to free her arm of Harry’s grip, but he wouldn’t let go.

“What is it then? What’s wrong?” he demanded to know. Ron, who hadn’t said a word, was looking at both of them from the side, not sure whether he should intervene or not.

“Nothing’s wrong,” she said looking at Harry in the eye. He couldn’t quite tell was it was he saw in her brown eyes. They didn’t seem to shine as usual. That natural glow that made them so beautiful was gone. Harry didn’t feel good about that.

“I’m just tired, okay?” Then pulling her arm off of Harry’s grip, she accelerated her pace towards Gryffindor Tower.

------------------------------

Monday after classes, Ron found Hermione alone in one of the corridors adjacent to Gryffindor Tower, sitting on the floor a book open in her hand, her legs stretched out on the stone floor, her back leaning on the wall. He walked up to her and sat next to her.

“Hey there,” he said leaning forward to take a peak at the book she was reading. “Studying, aren’t we?”

Without removing her eyes from the book, she nodded.

“So… Harry broke up with Angie.”

Hermione’s face quickly turned at Ron, a look of surprise in her face. A few seconds later, she seemed to regain control of herself, and closed her mouth, which had been hanging open.

“Uh… Why? When?" she asked nervously.

Ron smiled. He knew she’d find the news interesting. “Last Friday before the holidays. If you would’ve talked to us before you decided to leave, you’d know.”

“Well, that doesn’t make any difference.” Hermione let out a sigh, and looked away.

“What do you mean it doesn’t? You don’t have to worry about her anymore, do you?”

“I don’t… I don’t worry about her.” Hermione tried to sound surprised. Ron, however, didn’t buy it.

“C’mon Herm, let’s be honest.” Then turning his body around so he could face her, he added, “You’ve been mad since the moment you saw them together. You told me a thousand times you couldn’t stand her.”

“I know, I know,” she said defensively. Then tossing her book to the side, she looked at Ron. “I never liked her being with Harry. She’s so wrong for him.”

“I think the real reason why you didn’t like her was ‘cause she was with Harry.” Ron had touched a sensitive point. The one he had been waiting to talk with her about. “You wouldn’t have cared about her otherwise.”

Hermione looked away. Ron was right. That was the main reason why Hermione disliked Angie. She had tried to hide her feelings from everybody, but obviously Ron knew her very well.

As if Ron knew what she was thinking, he added, “You don’t have to hide it from me, you know” he said lowering his voice to a softer tone. “I know how you feel about Harry.”

Hermione looked at him and opened her mouth ready to deny it, but she couldn’t. There was no reason to do it. After all, Ron was her friend and she needed to talk to someone about it.

“So, don’t worry. She’s out of the picture now,” he said trying to change the sad expression of her face.

“I already told you , it makes no difference. He’ll never see me as more than a friend.”

“How do you know that?”

“All you need to do is look at the girls he’s dated, Cho and Angie!” Hermione’s voice was starting to get tenser. “That’s the kind of girl he likes. I obviously can’t compete with that.”

Ron’s eyes went wide open. He could not believe she still had that idea in her mind. “I can’t believe you’re still on about that!”

“Ron…” she tried to object, but Ron didn’t give her a chance.

“No. You listen to me. Forget all this codswallop about you not being good enough. You’re wrong if you think Harry cares about that. Don’t you know him at all? You’d better start pulling yourself together, Hermione, and make that friend of ours fall head over heels for you. Aren’t you a girl?”

Hermione didn’t respond. She appreciated Ron’s effort to raise her spirit, but it was going to take more than that to convince her otherwise.

---------------------------------

During the following weeks, Hermione's mood didn’t change much. The state of depression she was in had not changed much after her talk with Ron. At least, she now felt better knowing that Ron knew about her feelings. Ron, however, was getting frustrated.

In the meantime, Harry wasn’t sure what was happening with him. Ever since the holidays, when he had been so disappointed about Hermione’s absence, he’d found himself thinking about her more often.

He still couldn’t explain what was the reason for the change of her behavior towards him. She was always busy, and even though she was again talking to Harry, he’d still feel her distant with him.

He didn’t like it at all. He missed her so much. He missed the way she’d always scolded them about putting homework away to the last minute. He missed her yelling at them for wasting time in the quidditch pitch when they could’ve done some studying instead. He missed the way she’d shush them when they’d not let her concentrate ‘cause they were being too noisy. He missed having his old Hermione around. “My Hermione? I mean my friend Hermione,” Harry thought.

Since he missed her so much, or because he couldn’t stop wondering what it was that had driven her away, he’d very often find himself staring at her. Whenever she was looking away, reading a book, working on an essay, eating, or whatever else it’d be that kept her busy, he’d just get lost looking at her.

He started to memorize the lines of her face, the waves of her hair, the way she’d try to get it out of her face by tacking it behind her ear, the way how she’d play with her quill while thinking what to write next. He was memorizing her every move. Not just that, but she’d usually appear in his dreams as well.

It was driving him insane. “What’s happening with me?” he wondered. “Why can’t I get her out of my mind?”

Ron was noticing that. He caught Harry way too many times starting at her while she was distracted. Ron also knew that Hermione would do the exact same thing when Harry was busy. He’d look from one to the other while trying his best to hold back his giggles. He just couldn’t believe how blind his two best friends were.

7. Revelations

Ron and Harry were at the quidditch pitch. Harry had just called off practice. They had only been there for less than an hour, but he hadn't been able to concentrate on the practice at all.

Feeling a little frustrated, the team agreed to reschedule their practice to Friday night instead. Since they had won their last match against Hufflepuff and their next game wouldn't be until March, their spirits were high.

After the team members left, Harry walked slowly to the changing rooms, Ron trailing after him. Once they were inside the changing room, Harry sank in a bench letting go of the snitch he had been holding in his hands. Ron looked at him and shook his head.

"Okay, that's it!" said Ron, a tone of frustration in his voice. "I can't take this anymore."

Harry looked at him wondering whom Ron was talking to. Ron started pacing around the room, untying his quidditch robes.

"You can't keep up like this, mate. You and Hermione need to solve this thing or else... I don't know what I'm going to do with the two of you."

Harry looked at Ron with an expression of shock in his face. "What... what are you talking about?"

"You think I don't know?" asked Ron. "You think I can't see the way you've been eating Hermione with your eyes."

After hearing Ron's words, Harry's face turned redder than Ron's hair. "Have I been that obvious?" said Harry more to himself. If it was possible, he flushed even more when he realized he had said it out loud.

"Yes! You've been very obvious. Haven't done anything to hide it, have you? She has you walking in clouds man. You're more crazy about her than you ever were about Angie."

And so it hit Harry. Ron was right. How could he have been so blind? His feelings had been so obvious that even Ron had noticed, and that wasn't easy since for Ron to notice something like this, it needed to bite him in the face.

"And... Has she? Has Hermione...?"

"No," said Ron guessing what Harry was trying to say. "She hasn’t realized anything. She’s been as blind as you, or at least I think she doesn't want to see it."

"What do you mean? You think she wouldn't be interested in me like that?" Harry's voice sounded concerned. That hadn't crossed his mind. There was the big possibility of her not seeing him as anything more than a friend.

"You should ask her, not me." Ron was quite sure he had already said too much.

"I can't," said Harry getting up. He started to take Ron's job of pacing around while Ron just stood rooted to the same spot. "I wouldn't be able to stand it if she doesn't feel the same way I do. Besides, I'd never do anything that could mean loosing her as my friend. She's too important to me."

"Believe me mate, that won't happen."

"How do you know? How can you be so sure?" Harry, seeing that Ron was avoiding his eyes, realized Ron knew more than he wanted to accept. "You know, right? You know how she feels!"

Ron tried to walk out of the room, but Harry stepped forward and placed himself in Ron's way. "Tell me!" he demanded.

"I can't!"

"So it is true, you know." By now Harry was raising his voice.

"Maybe, okay." Once again, Ron tried to get away, but Harry wasn't going to let him go that easily. "Listen mate, just talk to her, okay. Trust me."

After taking a few deep breaths to regain control of himself, Harry spoke again. "Please, Ron. I need to know."

"If I say something, she's going to kill me!" Ron's face showed Harry that he seriously believe Hermione would physically hurt him if he'd say more than what he had already said.

"She's not going to do anything to you."

"How long have you known her? You know she's mental." Yelled out Ron.

"Okay, okay… she won't know you told me anything, please Ron," pleaded Harry. "I need to know."

“Alright,” Ron finally gave up. He couldn’t’ stand the look of pain in Harry’s face. “Believe me, you should’ve known this by now, just by looking at her.” Then, seeing Harry’s look of exasperation, he continued. “She.. she has feeling for you, alright?”

“She does??? Merlin’s beard, she does!!” Harry passed a hand through his raven hair, which if possible was wilder than ever after riding his firebolt for a while. “Ron, you know what this means?”

“Yes,” said Ron, with a tint of horror in his voice. “She’s going to kill me!”

Harry, ignoring Ron’s agony, started pacing around talking to himself. “Okay... okay Potter, think!”

Ron sat down in the bench and looked at Harry wondering what was going on inside that head of his.

“How am I going to do this?” Harry continued talking to himself.

“Hey, whatever you do, don’t tell her I told you.” Since Ron already considered himself a death man (Once Hermione knew he had opened his big mouth), he decided to help Harry out. “Besides, you’re going to have to do some serious convincing.”

Harry, who had ignored Ron for a while, stopped in his tracks looking at Ron with a puzzled expression. “What do you mean?”

“Well… she has this weird idea of her not being good enough for you.”

Harry, who was shocked at Ron’s words, sat next to him. “What are you talking about? Not good enough? Where did she get that idea?”

“Look at the girls you’ve dated man. They’re the complete opposite of what Hermione is.” Then after seeing Harry’s expression, he added, “You just have to make her see that you don’t’ care about that. Didn’t you just told me the other day that you and Angie had nothing in common?”

Harry nodded thinking about Ron’s words.

“Can you tell what you have in common with Hermione?” asked Ron after a few minutes.

For a while Harry thought about it. Of course he could. There were plenty of things he could say. “We have so many things in common, I can even make you a list.” He stood up and as if talking to himself, he continued.

“We love our friends very much and would do anything for them. We like adventure, even when sometimes that gets us in trouble. We… we’re not really what people think. People see her as a know-it-all and me as a famous name. But there’s so much behind all that. You may be the only one who knows us that well besides ourselves,” said Harry looking at Ron.

Ron smiled at him. “You have to show her how much she means to you.”

They both fell silent for a few minutes, each lost in his own thoughts. Then Ron’s face brightened. “I have an idea! We’re gonna need George and Fred’s help, though.”

“I also have an idea, and I’ll need Dobby’s help as well.”

“Dobby? What for?"

“You’ll see.” And with a mischievous smile on his face Harry walked out of the changing room with Ron at his side.

-----------------------------

Right after leaving the changing room, Harry headed straight to the kitchens, Ron trailing after.

Once they stood at the fruit basket’s portrait and tickled the pear, the two of them walked into the kitchens looking for Dobby. Harry walked along the long tables, not seeing his elf friend around. For a moment, Harry thought that perhaps Dobby was out of the kitchens doing some chores.

Harry would’ve had to make use of the Marauder’s Map to locate him in the castle, but to Harry’s luck, once he got further in the room, he spotted Dobby. He was busy cleaning some food off the floor, which had been spilled.

As soon as Harry got a little closer, Dobby raised his pointed ears, as a puppy would when they hear someone approaching, and turned his face to find Harry standing next to him.

Dobby’s face brightened up with a wide smile. “Harry Potter has come to visit Dobby, sir!”

“Hello Dobby,” greeted Harry.

“Please sir, please sit down. Dobby’ll bring you some tea, sir,” said the little elf pushing Harry down at his wrist to make him sit at the bench next to the table.

“It’s okay, Dobby. I don’t care for tea right now.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” said Ron with a grin in his face. “And perhaps some of those chocolate éclairs we had at breakfast.” Harry looked at Ron, shaking his head disapprovingly, but Ron just shrugged his shoulders. “Since we’re here… might as well make use of the trip, right?”

Harry smiled at his friend, who obviously would never change. A couple of minutes later, Dobby came back bringing them tea, éclairs, pumpkin pastries, pudding and fruit on a silver tray. Ron’s face was shining with delight. After Dobby placed the tray on the table, Harry asked him to sit with them.

“Dobby, I need to ask you for a favor,” said Harry. Then looking at Dobby’s questioning face, he said, “It’s about Hermione.”

Dobby’s expression changed to understanding as if he could read Harry’s thoughts and smiled widely while nodding his head in agreement, his pointy ears flapping.

“Say no more, sir. Dobby’ll do anything for Harry Potter’s girl.”

8. Secret Admirer

February arrived and what was left of the snow that fell during the previous months was beginning to melt away with the warm rays of sunlight that were becoming more pleasant as the days passed.

Hermione was beginning to wake up. Since it was Saturday, she wasn’t in a hurry to get up and start with the day. She decided to stay in bed for a little longer. Hoping sleep would come back to her, she didn’t open her eyes or even shift her position, lying on her side.

The last weeks had been so tiring, taking most of her strength away. She felt as if she had been running the marathon nonstop all through the week. Then a distinct smell filled up her senses. Hermione wondered where that smell was coming from.

She opened her eyes. Something deep red was right next to her face on top of her pillow obstructing her view. She pulled her head back and open even more her brown eyes. She realized the red thing on her pillow was a long-stem red rose.

Hermione raised her upper body up looking at the rose. She sure was glad to have a room for herself. This way she didn’t have to give explanations to anybody about the rose or even worry about the curious looks of other girls.

“How did this get here?” she asked herself. But Hermione’s biggest question was: Who send it to her? With caution, as if she was going to take a bomb with her bare hands, Hermione grabbed the rose and examined it intently.

It seemed real, though Hermione wondered how someone had been able to find a rose so fresh and beautiful on that time of the year. “It must be some kind of spell,” she thought.

She brought the rose to her nose and was invaded by the most exuberant aroma she’d ever smelled. A shy smile appeared in Hermione’s face. She couldn’t help but feel flattered. Not only for the rose itself, but also ‘cause someone had gone through all the trouble of getting inside her dormitory to place it on her pillow.

“Well,” she thought. “Whoever it was, they do know how to make a girl feel good.”

When see finally made it to the Great Hall for breakfast, with a dreamy expression on her face, she didn’t realize that Harry and Ron were glancing at each other, a mischievous smile on their faces.

--------------------------------

The following week was full of excitement. Valentine’s Day was just around the corner. Since it was going to fall on a Sunday. Dumbledore had agreed to change the student’s usual visit to Hogsmeade to Sunday instead of Saturday, giving the students a chance to celebrate in the village.

Even when the rose had raised Hermione’s spirit, she wasn’t looking forward to the weekend. The last thing she needed was to look at other couples kissing and hugging all day long.

She had made a point to let Harry and Ron know she wouldn’t be going to Hogsmeade saying she had too much work to do. Hermione had been a little surprised when none of them complained about it, but was even more surprised when they said they weren’t going either.

That Saturday, Hermione woke up early as usual, and found that once again someone had come into the dormitory at night and left something on her pillow. This time, however, it was a note.

With trembling hands she grabbed the note. Her name was written in the outside of the envelope in a neat handwriting she did not recognize. Hermione took a deep breath, and slowly began to rip the envelope open, waiting for it to explode in her hands.

With a feeling of anxiety she could not contain, she run her eyes over the piece of parchment. Hermione tried hard to recognize the handwriting, but she couldn’t. She was sure she’d never seen it before. She knew the handwriting of almost all of the students in her year.

The note was brief and wasn’t signed. It read:

“There’s something you must know.

Come tomorrow to the big pine tree by the lake at noon.

You won’t regret it.”

----------------------------------

That night at the Common Room, Hermione couldn’t hide her anxiety. She had been thinking about the note all day, which she had spent hiding in the Astronomy Tower. She hadn’t even showed up for lunch.

Ginny was reading the last issue of The Quibbler, she had borrowed it from Luna, when she saw Hermione climbed in through the portrait hole. Without even looking at Ginny, or anybody else, Hermione headed to the stairs.

Once in her dormitory, she threw herself on her bed and rested her head in her pillow. The red rose she had received, laid in a glass vase on her night table. A couple of minutes later, the dormitory’s door opened and Ginny stuck her head in.

“Hermione?”

Hermione raised herself up and beckoned Ginny in. She walked in, closing the door behind her, and went over to Hermione sitting next to her.

“Where were you today?” asked Ginny with a tone of concern in her voice.

Hermione let a sigh out. “I was… hiding,” she said honestly. Then seeing Ginny’s puzzled expression, she added, “I was in the Astronomy Tower.”

“What’s wrong? Why weren’t you at lunch?”

Hermione looked at the red haired girl. She needed to confide in someone to let out all the things that were swirling in her head. Without preamble, she proceeded to tell Ginny all about the rose and the note she had received.

Ginny’s eyes opened wide for a few seconds. Then she smiled with a big grin. “You have a secret admirer!”

“Oh, Ginny!” said Hermione while moving her hand as if to push that thought away.

“You do! I wonder who it is.”

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. She didn’t have the slightest idea.

“Oh, this is so romantic!” giggled Ginny. “Are you going tomorrow?”

Hermione stood up. That was exactly the question that had been in Hermione’s mind all day. She hadn’t made up her mind, yet.

“Uh, I don’t know Ginny.”

“You have to,” said Ginny standing up, too. “I’m sure that important thing you have to know is that he, whoever he is, fancies you. And he’s going to tell you on Valentine’s.”

Hermione smiled at Ginny’s excitement. She was totally sure Ginny was excited enough for the both of them.

“I wish someone’d do something like that for me,” said Ginny between giggles. She laid down in Hermione's bed with a dreamy expression on her face. Then, turning her body around, so now she was lying on her stomach, her elbows lifting her upper body and her feet up in the air, she continued talking.

"You know, what amazes me more is how he was able to get inside your dormitory. You know boys can't come up here, right?'

Hermione nodded. She had been wondering that herself.

"You think maybe he levitated the letter in from downstairs? That'd mean it must be a Gryffindor!"

Ginny's last comment, made Hermione think about it for a while, but pushed the thought aside. "I don't think the note was levitated in. It'd be kind of complicated.”

"Well... however he did it, he sure deserves a chance to be heard," said Ginny in a this-is-serious-business tone of voice. "Hermione you have to go tomorrow."

"But what if there's no he? What if this is all just a stupid prank someone wants to play on me?" Finally Hermione was voicing out her real fear. Someone could just be trying to play a very mean joke on her. Hermione wasn't willing to put herself up to that.

"I don't think so, Hermione. I think this is real."

Still, Hermione resisted believing it. "Well, then you'll come with me."

Ginny looked at her as if Hermione had just said the world was flat. "You're not serious. I can't go with you! This is supposed to be a romantic meeting."

"Maybe, but I'm not willing to taking any risks."

Finally, Ginny agreed that she'd hide somewhere close by where the secret guy couldn't see her and if things got tricky, Ginny could come to the rescue.

------------------------

The next day, at fifteen minutes to noon, Ginny and Hermione left Gryffindor Tower and headed to the lake. Hermione hadn't been able to sleep all night. She had this feeling of anxiety. As they were walking across the castle, Hermione was expecting someone to jump out of a corner and tell her it all was a joke.

However, they made it to the lake with no incidents to report. Before reaching the spot where Hermione was to meet the secret guy, Ginny stopped and took a different direction, just in case "he" was watching them, to make him think Ginny was going back to the castle.

In reality, Ginny went to find a spot underneath some big bushes where she could see Hermione perfectly well.

Feeling uneasy about the whole thing, Hermione walked towards the pine tree. The area was deserted. She couldn't see or hear anything but the sound of the wind rustling the tree's leaves and the water in the lake.

For a moment Hermione thought her fear had been confirmed. There was no secret admirer. Nobody was going to come meet her and she'd be left there waiting. Hermione was convincing herself that had been the real purpose of the prank, to make her believe someone was going to meet her when in fact no one was coming, when she spotted something lying in the ground near the tree trunk.

Her curiosity got the best of her. Hermione walked closer to the tree. There she realized what was lying on the ground was a leather bound book. Hermione leaned over to read what the words written in the cover. It said, "Read Me."

Forgetting all sense of caution, Hermione took the book in her hands. It looked like any other regular book. Hermione opened the book and looked at the first page. It was blank. Then suddenly she felt a familiar pull in the navel that made her spin for a few seconds before disappearing.

Ginny who had been watching everything, gasped as she saw Hermione disappear. Just then Ginny realized that a pair of big saucer-plate-like eyes had also been watching everything very closely. Ginny looked at the small being standing a few feet away from her.

"Dobby! What are you..."

"It's okay Miss," said the elf trying to keep Ginny from yelling.

"Dobby, Hermione, she's... gone!" Ginny could hardly clam down. She was close to screaming for help.

"It's okay, Miss. It's okay. Dobby can explain," said Dobby while pulling Ginny's hand to make her sit down and listen to him. "Dobby can explain, Miss."

9. Surprise

When all the spinning ended, Hermione found that she was no longer near the lake. In fact, she wasn't in the grounds anymore. All of her senses became aware of her surroundings. "Where am I?" she thought. As she examined the area, she realized she knew that place. She had been there before. She was in the outside limits of Hogsmeade.

Hermione was standing on the road that lead to Hogsmeade, but she also noticed a familiar structure was close to where she was standing. It was the Shrieking Shack. Hermione took a couple of steps towards the Shack straining her ears.

Then, Hermione saw something that called her attention, a tiny and colorful humming bird. "That's odd, how can this bird be here, this time of year." She had never before seen this kind of bird around Hogsmeade either.

Hermione stared at the tiny bird as it was flying rapidly from one tree to the other. The bird started to move towards the Shrieking Shack. Hermione followed it. It was as if the bird would be leading her in that direction.

The bird would fly ahead for a few feet, and they wait for her to get closer. Then again, the bird would keep going. Soon enough Hermione found herself right outside the shack. The tiny bird then took a turn towards the side of the shack, Hermione followed after. She saw how the bird entered the shack through an opening in one of the windows.

The window had no glass. Instead, it had been sealed with wood. Somehow a big piece of wood had fallen to the ground leaving a gap big enough for a person to climb in. Since Hermione was not afraid of the shack, knowing its secret, she went inside.

As soon as Hermione put foot inside the shack, she noticed something different about it. The last time she'd been there, four years ago, she had sensed a strong smell, a mixture of old rotten wood, dirt, and moth eaten fabric, among other things. Now that she was standing in the lower lever of the shack, she couldn't sense that unpleasant smell at all.

Then, Hermione looked at the floor. Starting from right underneath the window she had climbed in through and leading all the way to the stairs there were rose petals littering the floor. Hermione hear the fast wings of the tiny bird flapping near her. As she turned to see it, the bird started to head toward the stairs.

Hermione's curiosity was growing up. “Should I follow it?” She thought. A second later, she followed the tiny bird, which was waiting for her at the foot of the stairs. As soon as Hermione started moving in that direction, the little bird flew all the way up the stairs, this time without waiting for her.

With caution, Hermione began to climb the stairs, rose petals still marking her way up. Since all of the windows were covered, it was a little dark. Hermione took out her wand and said “Lumos.” When she finally reached the top of the stairs, the little bird had disappeared, but the petals were leading to a closed door in the right side of the hallway. Slowly, Hermione reached the door.

She stood there for a moment trying to hear if there was any sound inside of the room. Thinking she should prepare herself for anything, she held her wand tighter in her hand. After taking a deep breath in, she slowly pushed the door open.

A sudden rush of light illuminated the hallway. Hermione had to shut her eyes for a few seconds to get adjusted to the light. When she finally opened her eyes, Hermione's mouth opened as well. She took a couple of small steps in, looking amazed at the sight she had in front.

It was as if she had stepped out of the shack, into to forest. She was standing on a hilltop. Big, tall trees with a deep green foliage, sprinkled with several multi-colored flowers Hermione could not identify, stood everywhere. Green shiny grass carpeted the ground. The smell of fresh air and wild flowers filled Hermione's senses.

She walked a little further in, or out she wasn't sure, and realized that in the distance she could she the towers and turrets of a magnificent castle. It was Hogwarts. The great lake by its side. Snowy mountains in the background.

She also noticed there was a neatly arranged blanket by the side of a tree. Placed on top of the blanket were several silver plates with fresh fruit, Hermione's favourite pie, pumpkin pastries, as well as a pair of silver goblets and a few buttlebeers resting in ice.

Hermione's mind was working hard trying to make sense of the situation. She looked at the castle wondering who had gone through all this trouble, when she heard a familiar voice.

"Great view, isn't it?"

Hermione turned around quickly to find Harry standing just a couple of steps away from her leaning on a tree.

"Harry! But what... how?"

Not paying attention to Hermione's look of shock, Harry grabbed one of her hands and pulled her down to sit at the blanket.

"Sit," he said softly. "You need a drink."

After he said that, he poured some butterbeer into one of the goblets and handed it to her. Hermione, who had been holding to her wand for dear life, finally let go of it, took the goblet from his hands and sipped some of its content. The warm feeling the drink gace her awoke her senses.

Everything was intriguing to her. How she had gotten there, where exactly she was supposed to be at right now, but most of all, why was Harry so calm as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening.

Then it hit her.

"You! It was you?"

Harry's face illuminated with a smile as he nodded. "Me..." he said. "With a little help, of course."

Hermione's head was so full of questions; she had trouble voicing them all. Harry smiled looking at the frustration in her face.

"It was me, Hermione." He took the goblet out of her hands, afraid she might drop the liquid on her lap. "I sent you the note... and the rose, too."

A big question mark appeared in Hermione’s face. That didn't make sense. "Why... why would you do that?"

"Cause when you're in fall, you can do all sort of crazy things."

“Did he just say love?” Thought Hermione. “No, that can't be, right?”

Seeing her expression change to disbelief, Harry continued. "Yes, Hermione. I've fallen for the most amazing, the most wonderful, the cleverest witch of all times, you! You, Hermione. It's always been you."

Hermione started shaking her head, having trouble to digest Harry's words. "Me?" was all she was able to say. Harry got a little closer to her and took her hands in his.

"Yes, you. I love you Hermione, more than I ever thought possible. I know I've been such a prat lately. I know I sent you mixed messages, but now I'm sure of my feelings. These feelings that have always been here, way before I noticed them."

Harry placed a hand in her face to dry away a tear that without her noticing had rolled out of her eyes. "I hope you'd still take me," he said softly.

Their faces were inches away. Hermione hadn't realized that her body had leaned towards him on its own. Harry's index finger traced its way from her cheek to her lips.

The feel of his finger on her lips was so intense she closed her eyes to enjoy the tingling sensation that was running through her body. Then the feeling changed as his finger left and was replaced by his lips. Hermione's mind went into shock. She could not believe what was happening.

After wishing for so long to be with Harry like this, it was finally happening. His lips felt so soft and sweet. He was kissing her with such gentleness. Slowly, Hermione's lips parted and soon his tongue found its way in.

A feeling she had never felt before, took over her senses. Her hands went flying up and found a way to his hair, which she started to play with, while his hands were pulling her towards him, closer and closer.

Since they both needed oxygen, Harry pulled away and smiled looking at her expression. Hermione did not want to open her eyes. She was afraid the moment she did, she’d wake up on her bed to find out that it had just been a dream.

"Hermione?"

Reluctantly, she opened her eyes to find Harry's face still very closer to hers, smiling warmly at her. It wasn't a dream! It was real. Harry was there, right next to her, holding her in his arms. He had just kissed her, but most importantly, he said he loved her. She had finally heard those three words she had been dying for.

"Oh, Harry!" she finally said. "I love you, too."

That was all he needed to know. After that, he pull her to him and once again kissed her knowing that he wont’ be able to live if he wouldn't kiss those lips every day for the rest of his life.

A/N: Well, here’s the last chapter. I’m very glad to see that you guys liked this story. I certainly enjoyed writing it. Thanks to all those who reviewed. Your comments are appreciated. Right now, I’m working on a new story. Keep an eye out for me.

Hedwig76

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10. Down the Road

The following morning, Hermione was getting ready to go down for breakfast. When she woke up that morning, she had thought at first that everything had just been a dream. But now that she was looking at her reflection in the mirror, she knew it was real.

The rose in her night table, which still looked as fresh and smelled as wonderful as the day Dobby snack in (at Harry’s request) to place it on her pillow, reminded her it hadn’t been a dream. Plus, she could still feel the tingling sensation that Harry’s kisses had left on her lips.

For the third time, Hermione undid her school tie to start over again. She was nervous. Her hands were sweating. She suddenly felt too aware of the reflection the mirror gave her.

She wondered what Harry had seen in her. She felt the luckiest girl in Hogwarts ‘cause even when she had never paid much attention to her looks, Harry loved her. He loved her even without any make-up, or any fancy clothes. And she loved him just the same.

Finally, she was able to fix her tie and before taking a last look at the mirror, she grabbed her book bag and run downstairs.

Harry was waiting for her in the Common Room. When she saw Harry standing there, looking more gorgeous than ever (he hadn’t done anything different and was wearing the same uniform as always), she felt the color rising in her face.

Harry walked up to her, a sweet smile in his face, and before saying anything, he kissed her. Hermione responded to him, but quickly pulled back when she heard someone giggling behind them.

A couple of first years were coming down the stairs and smiled at the sight of them. Hermione tried to pull away from Harry, being the Head Girl she was supposed to be a good role model, but Harry didn’t let her go too far. He grabbed her hand and intertwined his fingers with hers.

“You ready?” asked Harry after the little girls had climbed out of the Portrait Hole.

Hermione looked at him. She wasn’t sure if she was ready, not for breakfast, but to face everyone. Harry slightly squeezed her hand.

“It’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

Hermione smiled shyly, following him out of the room and towards the Great Hall. Once they were standing a couple of steps away from the wooden doors that led to the Great Hall, Harry stopped. He placed a hand on the side of her face, caressing it gently with his thumb.

“You know I love you, right?” He said in a soft voice. Hermione nodded. “Then forget about everyone else. We’re the only ones that matter.”

He then gave her a soft kiss in the corner of her mouth, and pulled her into the Hall, their hands still glued together.

All the faces in the four long tables turned to see them as they walked by.

“News do travel fast,” said Harry in Hermione’s ear just before they sat across the table to where Ron was sitting.

It seemed that out of everyone in the Great Hall the one person whose mouth was still hanging open and could not believe what she was seeing was Angie.

“Hey you two!” greeted Ron, a big grin on his face. “I guess there’s no need to ask how it go last night.”

“You knew?” asked Hermione looking form Ron to Harry.

“’Course! Whose idea you think it was to use the Shrieking Shack?”

“Really?”

“Hey not all of it was your idea!”

“Okay,” agreed Ron. “Maybe not all of it, but I did help. Besides if it wasn’t for me… you two’d still be walking in the dark.”

Harry smiled. It was true. In a way he owed this to Ron. He had helped him open up his eyes and recognize his feelings for what they really were.

“What do you mean? What did you do?” demanded to know Hermione.

“Uh… well, I… uh, Harry?”

Hermione looked intently at Ron’s face. She didn’t need to think about it too hard. It was written all over Ron’s guilty expression. He had told Harry about her feelings.

“Listen, Hermione, it’s just that…” Harry tried to explain it. He had after all promised Ron he’d help him out if things got rough once Hermione knew Ron had opened his mouth.

“You told him, didn’t you?” asked Hermione accusingly, ignoring Harry’s words.

“Well, I… He made me do it! I didn’t … I was just…”

“It’s okay, Ron.” Hermione’s tone of voice changed completely, to Harry and Ron’s surprise. “I know you only were trying to help, and if that worked…”

Harry looked at his girlfriend and smiled. “That’s why I love you.” Right after that he placed a quick kiss in Hermione’s lips.

“Eewwww…… guys, please!” complained Ron. “I shouldn’t have opened my big mouth. I shouldn’t have said anything to Harry.”

Harry and Hermione laughed at their friend’s silly face.

The rest of the breakfast continued as always. Ron speaking with his mouth full while Hermione reviewed her schedule to see what she needed to get done that day. Harry could only smile to himself.

He just loved the pair of them, in different ways of course. He sure was glad that his luck had guided him to them. He knew that without his two best friends, who now were his best friend and his girlfriend, he wouldn’t had survived through all the things that had happened to him since the first day she set foot in Hogwarts.

Without them, life just wouldn’t make sense to him. He wouldn’t be the person he is now. He also knew that his future was not as bright as he would have hoped it to be. He knew that difficult times lay ahead, waiting for him.

But he also knew that as long as he had Hermione and Ron at his side, he’d make it through. He didn’t have the slightest idea of how he was going to be able to pull that off, but he just knew it.

Harry had the certainty that Hermione and Ron wouldn’t let him down, and that they would always be a part of his life. Harry just wouldn’t have liked it any other way.

I’m dying to get to know you,

know what you’re thinking,

open up all of your doors,

and defeat those storms

that want to want to throw us off,

center my eyes in yours,

sing with you until dawn,

kiss until our lips wear out,

and see in your face every day

grow that seed.

Create, dream, let it all out,

putting aside the fear to suffer.

Alex Ubago (Translated by Hedwig76)