Who's First?

Chapter Nine: On My Mind, Part Two

Harry loves me………

Hermione stared at the letter, unable to find the words to express her relief, and confusion. She was relieved that he loved her, but confused because he didn't take the chance in telling her.

How can he do that? Hide his feelings and act like nothing has happened? That's not fair! I've tried for years to get him to see that I feel the same way………

That boy is so blind, it's not even funny.

Hermione heard the bed creak. She quickly grabbed the letter and shoved it back into the bottom of the box. Harry came out of the back rubbing his eyes. He saw the box was in a different place than before and he eyed Hermione.

“Why is my box on the floor?” he questioned.

“I had to clean the counter, so I moved it.” She answered.

Whew, that was close! She could've found that letter………

“Alright then. That nap helped, thanks for the suggestion.” He smiled, very widely this time.

She looked at the box once more, before turning around and heading into the kitchen to attempt making an edible dinner for Harry. She got everything out, including her knives and spices and went at it.

***********

Harry finished the rest of his Chinese food and threw away the carton. Hermione had, obviously, failed at her attempt of a home-cooked meal, and ordered Chinese food after a half an hour of vegetables burning, and meat hitting her in the face.

“'Mione, you have something in your hair.” Harry reached over and pulled out a red pepper and held it in front of her so she could see what it was.

“Thanks Harry. Remind me to never try to cook again, okay?” she smiled.

“Agreed.” He nodded.

“Well, I need to start making lesson plans for class.” Hermione said as she cleaned up the rest of the food, and dumped whatever was left into the rubbish.

“Oh, yeah. We do have to go back to work in four days, don't we?” Harry asked.

“Yeah. Professor Dumbledore says that he's been generous enough to give us two and a half extra weeks of leave, so we do have to work.” She told him.

Harry sighed, and decided to try and find his briefcase. Hermione had already found hers and began to write feverishly. Harry looked at her with a confused, and goofy face.

“'Mione, why are you writing that lesson plan so quickly.” He asked her.

Because I want you to know that I love you, and I'm nervous about it………

“I just want to get it done as fast as possible.” She replied quickly.

Harry nodded and continued his search for his lesson plans. After a half an hour of looking for his briefcase, Harry gave up and sat down with Hermione. Right when he sat, the doorbell rings.

“It has to be Ron, or Luna. They're the only ones I know that would ring the doorbell instead of Apparating in like everyone else does. Can you get that, Harry?”

Harry nodded, and pushed himself up from the chair and walked over to the door.

“Hiya Harry. I found this.” It was Ron and he held out the highly polished handle to his Firebolt. Everything still attached.

“Ron! How did you get it out of the flat. Those mess blokes magically shut it.” Harry insisted.

“Well, you know how good Luna is with her wand. She just helped, yah.” He said, beaming and still holding out the broom. Harry grabbed it and leaned it against the wall right next to the door.

“You can come in you know.” Harry said, gesturing him indoors.

“Thanks, but I have to get going. Mum wants me to de-gnome the garden. See you.” With that he left his best friend.

“Thanks again!” Harry called out after him. He shut the door and wheeled around to face Hermione. She shrugged her shoulders and got up from the table.

“Well, that's quite fortunate. I'm off to bed. I need a quick nap before we go to dinner.” She informed him.

“We're going out to dinner?” he asked, confused.

“Yah, I don't feel like trying to cook again.” She smiled.

“Well, we could just get order out from Pesola's.” he suggested.

“Alright. I'm off. Wake me in a half an hour, kay?” she asked kindly.

“Okay then. Half an hour.” He nodded.

She smiled and entered the bedroom and shut the door.

Harry turned and stared at the fireplace. A fire would be good right about now.

He gathered a box of matches, the fire poker, and that wretched letter. Throwing some of the wood next to the hearth into the empty grate, he lit a match and threw it in.

Ten minutes later he had a warm, crackling fire sitting in front of him. With a large sigh, he tossed in the confessional letter and watched it burn.

I should tell her, a voice said in his head.

No! It could ruin your relationship! Said anther, worried voice.

But she at the least deserves to know, right?

No! Not right! Did you not hear me? It could forever ruin the relationship you've built up with her over the last 15 years!

But it could also make things better, especially if she feels the same about me.

You're the most dimwitted idiot I have ever had the pleasure to argue with.

You just called yourself a dimwitted idiot.

WHY AM I TALKING TO MYSELF?

Cause there's no one else around, but us. Which technically is you.

Have I gone nutty?

No, you're pretty sane to me, if you'd just tell her!

FINE! I will!

With that last and very persuasive thought, Harry hoisted himself up and went to the door of their bedroom. He slowly opened it, and peered inside.

“'Mione?” he whispered.

Nothing.

“'Mione, I need to talk to you, and if your not awake, this will have to do……”

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There you go! SOOOOO sorry it took me so long to get this one done you guys. I'll have the next one done before christmas, promise!

-Kelly Nicolette