Just Friends

Author's Note: Just a short drabble that is dedicated to Hannah (Lavender Brown @ hp.moosh.nu). I wanted to have a bit of fun in between writing Together We Are One. I hope you like it!

The snow was falling gently to the ground, covering the grass beneath with a blanket of white. The pair walked through the great hall timidly trying to avoid any wandering teachers that were on the prowl for innocent seventh year students. Their hands were entwined and their heads were close together as they conversed quietly. The raven haired boy was carrying a jar containing bluebell flames in his spare hand and was trying to keep them warm in the draughty corridors. Unbeknownst to them a white blond boy was in the shadows, watching their every move, timing his prank.

"Harry, I know you're angry but -" said the girl, with frizzy brown hair, quickly and anxiously.

"You just don't want to spend any time with me anymore. You have NO IDEA what it's like being me. You think I don't realise how hard it is to be my friend? You think I don't realise that you and Ron blame ME for YOU splitting up?" he bellowed, as soon as they were outside in the grounds.

Hermione's head was furrowed in thought, her eyes gazing speculatively into the green ones beside her. Her hand was clutched on her wand inside her robes, in case of attack. She thought, rather wryly, how Harry's awareness of his surroundings had spread to her. She loved having him as a friend but at times like this she realised how truly dense he could be, despite his lovable characteristics.

"YOU have NO IDEA why we split up. Perhaps there is a problem because I DON'T JUST WANT TO BE YOUR FRIEND! Have you ever thought of that?" she screeched.

They had stopped walking now and were facing each other. Both were struck by how odd the situation was - they had never really argued as friends but something had changed between them. Which was possibly how this scenario, which would have been unthinkable between them before, was actually happening. If there was a line between friendship and a relationship they had just crossed it. Or rather, Hermione had.

"What?" said Harry. His voice was small, defeated almost. His hand automatically shot up into his hair, which he ruffled absently.

"You heard exactly what I said. Maybe the problem is that I don't want to just be your friend anymore," said Hermione quietly.

"But, what about -"

"It's over, Harry, and it shouldn't have started either," she said flatly.

In the aftermath, Harry couldn't clearly state who made the first advance. One minute they were looking at each other with a mixture of confusion and determination, as if they had only just become aware of the others presence. Then caution was thrown to the winds and they began kissing.

"Bloody hell," said the boy in the shadows, pulling out his wizard camera, and snapping haphazardly. "Who would have known.. Potty pothead and the mudblood.."