Spoil It All

Disclaimer: J.K. is the genius, Harry and co. are hers.

This is my first fic – hope you like it!

Niffling

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The kiss was like the softness of a rose petal brushing both their lips as they leaned together sharing each others warmth. Later, they wouldn’t be able to recall exactly what had happened, how it had started, but for now, none of that mattered.

It is said that kisses are the language of love, and Hermione couldn’t stop herself from thinking that if that were true, Harry was very linguistically talented. She pulled away silently cursing herself for the thought, and looked up into Harry’s concerned emerald eyes.

“What is it?” he asked in a soft whisper, “what’s wrong?”

Hermione tried to pull away but his strong arms left no room for a struggle, and she was too reluctant to try very hard. Not wanting to answer, she looked away and bit her lip.

“Hey, stop that,” he said, and put his fingers under her chin to lift up her face so that she had to meet his eyes. “What’s wrong?” he asked again, still looking concerned.

Hermione tried to pull her gaze away but she felt like she was drowning in his eyes, she was as intoxicated by them as she was by the kiss.

“We shouldn’t be doing this Harry.” She stated simply, although she couldn’t help the tone she said it in, or the way it came out, as a sort of unwilling admission.

“Why not?” queried Harry, leaning down to kiss her neck in a teasing way, “hmm?”

“It’s just...not… right…” she faltered, and then gasped as she felt Harry’s tongue tickle her neck as he slowly sucked the smooth skin.

Harry made to pull away, but she made a frustrated sound and put her hands up to stroke his messy black hair, and to keep his mouth in place on her neck.

She groaned softly, and Harry started to kiss slowly back up her neck until he found her mouth again and they engaged in another tantalising kiss. Each time Harry darted his tongue forward, Hermione’s leapt to meet it. Each time his lips pulled away, hers pulled them back.

Hermione felt overwhelmed, she could feel her emotions rise, feel her heart flutter, feel her mind reel. She suddenly realised this was what had been missing; this was the gap in her heart needing to be filled. She felt tears run from her eyes uncontrollably.

Harry felt them too, and pulled away looking puzzled. “Hermione? Hey… what’s wrong?” he asked, stroking the tears from her cheek.

She couldn’t contain herself. Now that she knew, she had to tell him.

“Oh Harry,” she sighed leaning into him, and feeling the safety of his strong arms around her. “Oh Harry, I think I love you.”

Harry stiffened; Hermione felt his arms around her pull tight then let go as he pulled away from her.

“Wh- what?” he said looking shocked.

“I- I said I think I love you,” she said, and even as she said it she felt her heart break, for if he felt the same surely this wouldn’t be his reaction? New tears sprung to her eyes as she registered the look he was giving her, and she held back a sob as the tears ran down her face.

Suddenly, the portrait hole swung open, and as they both turned towards the entrance of the common room they saw the lanky form of Ron Weasley start to pull himself through.

Hermione broke down and just as Ron got through she’d started to run up the staircase to her room.

Ron looked after her regretfully, “Damn was that Hermione?”

“Uh... yeah…” Harry answered looking away and trying to reduce the redness in his cheeks that he knew was there.

Hearing his best friends voice sounding slightly odd Ron looked over at Harry and was shocked at the look on his face. “Hey, what’s up mate?” he said softly, and walked over to where Harry was standing.

“Huh? Oh, I, erm, nothing… think I’ll get an early night…” and with that he walked off towards their dormitory still looking pensive and in a daze.

“Weird guy,” muttered Ron, and collapsed down into his favourite chair by the fire to finish some homework.

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“Shall we wait for Hermione?” Ron asked Harry as they made their way down to the Griffindor common room the next morning.

“What? Why?” asked Harry in a startled voice.

“To go down to breakfast with her doofus!” Ron chuckled.

“Oh! Um nah its Saturday remember, she might want a lie in or… or something…”

“Yeah, I s’pose you’re right,” Ron agreed craning his neck to see if she was coming down her set of stairs before giving up and walking after Harry to the portrait hole.

“Good Morning!” cried the Fat Lady cheerfully as they swung her portrait shut behind them.

“And the same to you fine lady!” Ron called over his shoulder, and laughed appreciatively at the flirtatious giggles they could hear emitting from her picture.

Harry rolled his eyes, “Come on, Ron, I’m starving.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming,” Ron grinned, making no move to speed up.

Harry sighed, then suggested: “Fine then, race you!” and he sped off, knowing full well that Ron would be at his heels.

They broke through the doors to the dining hall together, and gasping for breath made their way to the Griffindor table.

The first person Harry noticed was Hermione, who was looking the other way obviously not wanting them to join her. Harry made to sit down by Seamus and Dean, but Ron had spotted Hermione and dragged Harry up to sit opposite her.

“Hey Herms, how you doing on this bright sunny day?” Ron asked looking up at the magical ceiling and seeing nothing but blue sky.

Hermione made a non-committal noise and looked over at Harry, who quickly looked away. Tears welled up in her eyes and she jumped up muttering something about going outside before bolting to the door.

“What was all that about?” Ron mused, who, having been staring at the sky, hadn’t noticed anything.

“Dunno,” shrugged Harry, and began eating his breakfast with a fierce concentration.

Harry let Ron talk himself out about Hermione until he got onto a more neutral topic – Hogsmeade.

“So look, do you want to go or not because I need some more Zonko’s stuff to be honest.”

Harry snorted into the remainder of his cereal, “Ron, you never need more, you just want it!” he joked.

“Yeah well,” Ron admitted, “Amounts to the same thing doesn’t it?! Just because you don’t physically need something to survive, doesn’t mean you don’t want it just as bad.” He said philosophically; whilst Harry’s stomach did some kind of squirming flip as he pushed aside the thought of Hermione.

“Yeah alright,” he grumbled, “let’s go.”

“What about Hermione?” Ron said, looking around as they got up to see if he could spot her.

“Nah, she’ll just tell us off for getting Zonko’s stuff, and frown at you flirting with Rosemerta!” Harry laughed, trying to sound as light hearted as possible. Thankfully Ron agreed, and they spent a Hermione free day shopping in Hogsmeade, spending a long time deciding what to buy Hagrid, whose birthday it was the next day.

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Hermione spent the day in the library with her head buried in her Ancient Runes homework, grateful that the work was difficult enough to totally engross her - at least most of the time. She groaned inwardly as she had yet another flash back of that night and Harry’s face as she said those words… words she somehow suspected she wouldn’t be repeating in a hurry.

How could she have been so stupid, she chastised herself, they’d only just kissed for God’s sake, and already she declared her love for him. She toyed with the idea that it simply wasn’t true, that she’d been out of her mind, but she realised that she couldn’t kid herself. She really did love Harry, but she’d always convinced herself it was in a friendly way, nothing more.

She felt her heart squeeze tight as she realised this was exactly the way Harry loved her – or had loved her, because she very much doubted he could even stand her as a friend now. No, Harry had loved her like a friend and just kissed her because he felt like it, that was all. He just felt like kissing her senseless for a few minutes, before returning to their usual friendly relationship. Then she’d gone and ruined it all.

And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like I love you…

The lyrics sang through Hermione’s head as she put her face in her hands and bent over her Runes book, so that no one would see the hurt etched in her face.

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Harry awoke on Sunday with a slightly uneasy feeling, after an odd dream about Hermione chasing after him and him running away and hiding in the Room of Requirement. He looked at the time and suddenly realised he’d slept in late – again – and should probably make his way to Hagrid’s to wish him a happy birthday and give him the dragon calendar Harry had purchased the day before.

Just as he’d finished getting dressed, Ron launched himself into the room exclaiming,

“Ah there you are lazy bones! I was wondering where you’d got to, but got engaged in a game of chess with this tiny first year who thought he could take me on.” Harry grinned appreciatively as Ron crossed his arms looking smug, “No chance, of course! Anyway, let’s go to Hagrid’s yeah? I don’t know where Hermione is… no one seems to have seen her… do you think she’s ill?”

Harry turned away as he mumbled, “Yeah could be… let’s go anyway, Hagrid might have some food!”

They made their way down to Hagrid’s hut and knocked on the door. As he answered the smell that poured out was delicious, it appeared someone had prepared a whole Sunday lunch in honour of the occasion.

“Happy birthday!” Harry and Ron chorused, and Hagrid beamed down at them.

“’Ello ‘Arry, Ron, come in, come in,” he said opening his door wide so that they could see the feast laid out on his table, “You’ll stay for dinner?” Hagrid asked with a knowing twinkle in his eye.

“Will we ever!” Ron replied enthusiastically, diving for a seat at the table.

“Thanks Hagrid,” said Harry appreciatively, as he sat on the bench opposite Ron. “This looks great!”

“Oh don’t thank me, Hermione did it all!” Hagrid explained, making Harry sit bolt upright in surprise. “Tha’s righ’! Ah here she is, just went to grab some carrots from the garden!”

Harry looked across to Hermione, who had just entered through the back door, clutching some carrots in her hand. They shared an awkward look before Ron interrupted them:

“Hermione this looks awesome!” he yelled going over to her and hugging her tightly. “So this is where you’ve been? Good – we were starting to worry, weren’t we Harry?” he said, turning to face Harry who still looked rather startled.

“Wha-? I- no! No, I wasn’t worried at all,” Harry said nonchalantly, “I mean–”

He added seeing the hurt look on Hermione’s face, “I mean we didn’t need to worry, did we? She was here all along…”

“Charming,” Hermione muttered, as she crossed to the sink and waved her wand at the freshly picked carrots, which were peeled and sliced in no time.

“I’ll just get another chair,” she said, trying not to look at Harry as she did so, but she didn’t get away with it.

“Don’t bother Hermione, there’s enough space on that bench next to ’Arry!” Hagrid pointed out, leaving Hermione no choice but to squash on next to Harry.

Whatever Hagrid may have said, Hermione would have much preferred to be on a much longer bench than this with Harry, preferably the length of the ones in the great hall, so that she had less chance of brushing arms with Harry as they ate. Thankfully Ron was so engrossed in the food and Hagrid seemed to have indulged in enough birthday wine so that neither of them noticed the awkward silence that hung like a cloud over the bench just next to them.

Thank you so much everyone who has reviewed, I’m so happy to see that people are enjoying the story! It really does mean a lot :-)

Hope you enjoy this next instalment just as much, and please continue reviewing!

Disclaimer: J.K. is the genius, Harry and co. are hers.

Niffling

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Monday morning during Charms with Professor Flitwick was utter torture for Hermione. She tried to act naturally and normal, but it was so hard to try and concentrate on what Flitwick was saying, and when they were split into groups of three Ron grinned at both Harry and her in an expectant way, so there was nothing she could do to get away.

“So Hermione, tell us what we’re doing here,” Ron asked jovially.

“Hmm? What? Hey, what makes you think I know?” she snapped, then, seeing the confused and slightly hurt look on his face, she added quickly: “Sorry Ron, just a bit tired… didn’t get much sleep last night…”

Harry tried to look like he hadn’t noticed what Hermione had just said, and leaned over to ask Seamus if he knew the spell they were meant to be working on. As he turned away he heard Ron muttering to Hermione:

“Hey, are you sure that’s all it is?” in a soft voice, and as Harry turned his head slightly he saw Ron reaching out to Hermione in a comforting way. Harry stiffened, waiting to hear Hermione’s reply, not taking in a word Seamus was saying.

“I’m OK,” Harry heard Hermione reply, and let out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

“That all explained then mate?” Seamus’ voice bought Harry back to the present.

“Huh? Oh, oh yeah, right, thanks Seamus!” Harry said as he turned back to the table.

“Oh right, did Seamus tell you what we’re doing?” asked Ron, obviously having overheard Harry’s thanks.

“Oh… yeah…”

“…Well?” Ron asked, peering at his friend inquisitively.

“Um… it was…” Harry began, realising he hadn’t heard of word of Seamus’ explanation.

“The Cheering Charm,” Hermione broke in, and Harry gave her a relieved glance of thanks – too often had he not been listening only for Hermione to save him and for him to give her this look of appreciation. But then, once more, he stiffened – he had momentarily forgotten the reason he hadn’t heard what Seamus was on about, and now that he remembered the smile slipped off his face like stink sap and he looked away from Hermione’s chocolate brown eyes, cursing himself.

For just as his eyes had left hers, he felt sure they’d sparkled, filling up with extra tears.

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Hermione had managed to avoid Harry for the rest of the day after the disastrous episode in Charms, as she had different lessons in the afternoon and had grabbed herself something to eat and hidden in her dorm before Ron and Harry had even made it down from their Divination lesson.

Now, she lay in bed with the four poster curtains pulled shut against anyone wondering what was wrong. What, she wondered, was Harry actually thinking in Charms as he looked at her, with that mischievous grin he always flashed at her when he’d got something wrong and she helped out. What exactly had crossed his mind? Well, in fairness, Hermione thought she could answer that one for him – nothing. Nothing had crossed his mind at that moment, because he was just being normal, happy, Harry. No, in fact, the more she thought about it, the more Hermione realised what she actually wanted to know was what he’d been thinking as that smile suddenly wiped off his face and he gave her a look almost of horror before quickly looking away.

She angrily brushed tears from her eyes. Obviously, she realised, he was horrified at the thought of being normal with her, maybe of even being close to her after what she’d said the other night. In fact, Hermione concluded, what he was probably most horrified by was the actual words she’d said.

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“Oh Harry,” she sighed leaning into him, and feeling the safety of his strong arms around her. “Oh Harry, I think I love you.”

Harry woke with a start and opened his eyes wide. His heart was racing and he groaned as he realised what had woken him – again. He rolled over to look at his clock and realised it was 3am, which only made him groan again.

After a few minutes of tossing and turning in his bed, he realised there was no chance he was going to get more sleep just now, and rolled over to pick up his copy of Quidditch Through The Ages. As his hand scrabbled for a hold on the book and found only empty air, he realised it wasn’t there, and remembered that he must have left it down stairs in the common room.

With a sigh, he hoisted himself up out of bed and wandered over to the dorm door and began the descent.

He didn’t even notice her until he was basically on top of her; he’d just got to the chair he thought his book was on and as he walked around the front of it he nearly screamed –

“Hermione!” he yelped, and took in the sight of her. She had obviously come down from her dorm, she was in a short and vest pj set, curled up on his chair in front of the fire, which was dying down but showed signs of having been poked and a few sticks having been added.

“Harry!” she responded with equal surprise, and looked around the room quickly, as if to check if anyone else were about to leap out at her.

“I… uhh… I didn’t think anyone would be down here…” Harry said, and then silently cursed himself for such a lame thing to say. They both seemed to realise at the same time that this was the first time they’d actually been alone together since she’d said those words, and the atmosphere became even more uncomfortable.

Hermione couldn’t help noticing how defined Harry’s abs and pecs had got, he’d come down in only a pair of baggy pj bottoms, obviously too hot for more. That Quidditch was certainly doing him some good, she thought, and he looked extra cute with his ruffled hair and without his glasses on.

Hermione cursed herself silently for looking at him and thinking these thoughts, and it suddenly occurred to her that she wasn’t wearing much herself. The summer pj set she was wearing she’d had for a while now, so that where it was once baggy, it now clung to her developed form.

Harry couldn’t help noticing how Hermione had filled out, seeing her pjs clinging tightly to her curves made Harry stir: she looked very different like this compared to her usual robes.

Hermione seemed to have noticed his wandering eyes, and she drew the book she had been reading to her chest, trying to keep herself decent.

“What was it you came down for?” she asked, not meeting his eyes.

“Actually it was that, um, book you’re holding…” Harry admitted, recognising the front cover that was clutched to Hermione’s chest.

“Oh! Sorry… I just… I couldn’t sleep so I thought I’d come down and it, um, it was here…” Hermione responded, trailing off towards the end as she thought how stupid she must sound.

Harry didn’t think he’d ever been so jealous of a book in his life. As Hermione tried to explain herself her chest rose and fell behind the shelter of the book, but as it rose, the book only accentuated her bosom as she clutched it to her body.

“That’s OK,” he replied in a somewhat strangled fashion, and tore his eyes away from her again, this time his eyes landing on the chair next to hers. He moved, somewhat jerkily, towards it and threw himself into it with a would-be-casual sigh.

Hermione watched as he stared almost defiantly at the fire, and decided to mimic his actions. She toyed with the idea of going back up to bed, making her excuses and leaving, but she realised that if she did that, she would only wonder how long he would stay down there himself, wonder what he was thinking, wonder what would have happened if she’d stayed…

Harry cursed whoever had pulled the squashy chairs closer together, he was sure they weren’t usually touching, like a sofa only with arm rests dividing the occupants. He’d thought sitting down would be a good idea, keep things casual, act like they were just the same as ever. But with the chairs so close Harry could still have easily reached out and touched Hermione, felt her bare legs, run his fingers from her feet up her body until they reached fabric, and then…

Harry closed his eyes and let out a barely suppressed groan as he felt himself stir once more, teased by these thoughts and by the gorgeous girl beside him.

“What’s wrong?” he heard Hermione ask, and opened his eyes to see her leaning on the arm rests separating them, looking at him with eyes full of concern.

“Nothing, I just -” Harry began, but, unable to finish, just looked away from her, across to the other side of the room.

Hermione seemed to understand, and thankfully sank further into her armchair, and away from Harry. He controlled his breathing until he had calmed down a bit and only then looked back to the fire.

Hermione was confused. She knew the best thing would be to leave, but she was sure she’d heard him groan; sure she’d seen his eyes glance appreciatively over her body, before realising what he was doing and tearing his eyes away. As he turned back to the fire again, she realised he wasn’t going to start up a conversation very easily, but she also realised she was cold, and the fire was dwindling. Carefully, she moved the book she’d been hiding behind to the table on the other side of her chair – away from Harry. Then, she rose and crossed to the sticks for the fire, and, selecting a few, began to arrange them as best she could.

Harry held back another groan as he watched Hermione bend down to the fire. God her ass looked good in those shorts, and they really were very short shorts. He sat appreciating the view from behind, grateful for a chance to admire her without her being able to see his face as his eyes ravaged her body. When she stood, he admired her long legs catching the light from the fire, and as she heated her hands and rubbed herself with warmth, he felt some fantasies bubble to the surface of his thoughts and thanked God no one else was in the room to disturb them.

As her front began to warm, Hermione turned to heat her back too, and as she did so she felt Harry’s eyes on her body again. She felt her nipples become erect from the sudden coolness of the rest of the room compared to the warmth of the fire, or maybe just the attention from Harry. As she realised this she glanced, embarrassed, at Harry, and saw his eyes dart to her chest and take in the sight. She looked away, mortified, and felt herself close to tears. She slumped down in front of the fire, turning side on so that she could still see Harry, but chose to look at the fire.

“Are you cold?” Harry asked, his voice sounding huskier than he’d intended, breaking the silence that he had only just realised had stretched for several long minutes. Hermione nodded, not looking at him, and stretched her legs out in front of her for them to heat up too, and Harry couldn’t help but look at them again.

“Me too,” he declared, and moved on to the floor to sit by Hermione’s feet, his legs stretched out by the side of hers.

She glanced at him, confused, but he only stared back into the fire, so again she followed his example. What was he doing? She wondered - why was he doing this? If he’d wanted the book he could have asked, but he hadn’t even mentioned it again. As her thoughts spun in confusing directions Hermione realised she was just as much to blame. She hadn’t mentioned the book either, and it lay seemingly forgotten on the table away from them.

Harry’s eyes slid carefully away from the fire to Hermione’s face, which was frowning slightly, as if in deep thought. Content that she was occupied with her thoughts and not his face, he let his eyes roam her body again. He just couldn’t believe how much she’d developed. I mean, sure, he thought, her robes were more filled out and her uniform a little tighter, but Hogwarts uniform wasn’t exactly meant to serve as fashion wear, and he’d never seen Hermione revealing so much before. Or maybe it was just that she hadn’t had anything to reveal, he pondered, eyeing her chest appreciatively. Catching himself, he dragged his eyes away yet again. He glanced down at her neatly polished toe nails and before he really noticed what he was doing, he traced the outside of her foot with his hands.

Hermione gasped at the touch and looked sharply down at her feet and Harry, who looked guiltily up at her.

“Sorry I just – I mean – God your feet are freezing!” He said looking back to her toes and holding her feet in his hands, warming them up.

Hermione gave an involuntary twitch, about to pull them away, but then thought better of it, and looked carefully down at Harry. He’d obviously felt the twitch as he’d looked up at her, right into her eyes, and Hermione felt herself go weak with the strength of those emerald green eyes, which hadn’t properly connected with hers since looking at her with horror.

“I’m sorry,” he said gently in his low voice, still running his hands over her feet. “You’re just so cold… I thought I’d help…” he faltered, drawing his eyes back down to her feet. She turned her face away from him, relishing his touch but not wanting him to see how much she wanted him.

As he continued to touch her, she realised that his hands were beginning, slowly, to venture further up from her feet, first just glancing the ankles, and then running softly up her smooth legs, until soon he’d reached up to her knee with his gentle fingers gliding over her skin, apparently to warm her, although in truth wherever he touched turned to instant goose bumps. She felt him looking at her, and eventually turned to face him again, only to see him look to his fingers, now back on her toes. He looked up at her again, as if to check that she was watching, and obediently she looked to his fingers.

They both followed his fingers with their eyes as he danced them lightly up her leg and when he reached her knee this time his eyes darted back up to hers. He watched her face as he slowly extended his reach further up her leg, and when she gasped as he touched her he stopped, and looked at her until she caught his eye and looked back to his hand again, as if granting permission to continue.

He let his fingers glide higher up her legs, and when he was nearing the length of his reach he knew he didn’t want to stop, and pulled himself up onto his knees to move closer to her and lean over her body as his fingers continued their ascent. As he got higher he could barely stop himself trembling as his hand neared her shorts and he glanced to her face, silently begging her to let him continue. She turned to look into his face, and slowly leaned back so that she was lay down in front of him, gazing at him vulnerably. He knew this was her way of granting permission and he moved to lie down beside her, lying on his side so that he could run his hand down her body. He grazed her nipples through the thin fabric of her vest and then continued down to her exposed midriff, which he ran his hand over lightly before teasing the waistband of her shorts, sliding a finger between them and her body. He looked at her again and saw that she had closed her eyes, enjoying feeling his hands on her. He knew that he couldn’t let this just happen without being sure she wanted it, and stopped his hand with his fingers just underneath the waistband of the shorts, no lower.

Hermione opened her eyes to see him gazing down at her and realised he needed to know if she was ready. I wonder if I am, she wondered, but overrode this thought by taking his wrist in her hand, and plunging it into her shorts. His hand was warm as it stroked through her hair and Hermione felt so nervous she could barely breathe, let alone move. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the feeling of Harry’s hand touching her there. She felt like she could die with lust as her body yearned towards his seeking hand, and suddenly he’d pushed inside her, making her gasp and him groan as he felt her wetness waiting for him. He pushed deeper inside her and Hermione writhed under his hand not wanting him to stop. He began to pull out of her and she nearly screamed out with rage, until her exclamation was knocked out of her by the thrust of two fingers entering her this time. She pushed her body into his hand and heard his breath coming quick and hard as she moved against him. She didn’t think she could feel more pleasure as she thrashed around moaning, until she gasped with renewed ecstasy when his thumb found her clit and started teasing it gently. She moaned harder and harder and Harry understood her rising desperation, and thrust into her harder and deeper than before, making her gasp and suddenly moan her release as she came with his fingers inside her.

When Harry felt Hermione’s release he thought he had never seen anything as beautiful as her lying next to him, hot and exhausted catching her breath by the fire, and the small noise of disapproval she made as he pulled his hand from her shorts made him smile down at her. She had closed her eyes in apparent exhaustion and as he stared into her flushed face Harry wanted nothing more than to kiss her sweet lips. As he leaned down over her to place his lips gently on hers Hermione’s eyes flickered open and he found himself looking into her eyes.

“Oh Harry,” she sighed leaning into him, and feeling the safety of his strong arms around her. Harry stiffened instantly his memory coming to haunt him again. She looked at him, concerned, as his eyes suddenly darted away from hers.

“Harry? What’s-?”

Harry pulled himself away from Hermione as she reached for his face and pushed himself off the floor to stand above her. He felt like he’d woken from a dream, what have I done? What was I thinking? This was Hermione, hadn’t just kissing her got him into enough confusion?

“Fuck,” Harry swore as he paced away from her – her, not Hermione, God he was thinking about her like a nobody now, he couldn’t believe himself for letting this happen.

“What’s wrong?” Hermione asked, picking herself up and approaching him.

“DON’T.” Harry practically shouted, turning to her. All he could hear from her mouth was the unfinished sentence, the: “oh Harry, I think I love you.”

“Harry I - ” think I love you, Harry’s memory teased. Hermione was trying to check that he was OK but all he did was pull away from her and pace and swear. “What’s wrong with you? What’s the matter?”

Harry tried to ignore her questions but they battered at his brain, pestering, questioning, what was wrong with him?

“You! You! I- I just…” he exclaimed, then, losing grasp of what he was trying to say, he paced away from her again, unable to look at her.

Hermione stood as if shell shocked. Tears rose up in her eyes but she barely even noticed as they blurred her vision so completely, until she blinked and the hot tears spilled down her cheeks. The blurring had gone and it wasn’t just an illusion, Harry was still pacing, still angry, still not catching her eye.

“Me?” she whispered, unable to believe what she was hearing. “What have I done? I thought…” she stopped herself, wondering what exactly had she thought, what had she thought this meant to Harry? He looked up at her when she stopped speaking, and she couldn’t read his eyes, couldn’t tell what he was thinking. She looked away from him and noticed that the fire had gone out.

“Are you cold?” she remembered him asking huskily, and closed her eyes tight shut against the memory, trying to block it out, trying not to think about what had just happened.

Quickly she moved away from him towards her dormitory,

“Where are you going?” she heard him ask, and she turned back to him, shocked by his cheek to question her leaving.

“Away from you,” she whispered, letting the fresh tears run down her face.

“Oh Harry, I think I love you.” was the voice that haunted Harry’s dreams.

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Hey guys, I’m really nervous about this one! I hope you like it… :-S

Disclaimer: J.K. is the genius, Harry and co. are hers.

Niffling

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As Harry rose the next day he felt like he hadn’t slept at all, and the only way he knew he had was by the weird dreams he could vaguely remember that had plagued him in the night. He dressed quickly and realised it looked like it was going to be another bright day, if only he didn’t have to be stuck in lessons for all of it.

As he made his way down to the common room, he saw Hermione and Ron deep in conversation and made his way over hesitantly. Hermione noticed him approaching and hugged Ron, then moved away to Ginny who she left with.

“Alright mate,” Ron said yawning, “Hermione was just saying she was going to spend some time with Ginny, says Ginny was upset about something or… something. Anyway, she said it wasn’t serious, so I reckon let the girls sort it out for themselves.”

Harry breathed a sigh of relief, he had been concerned Hermione might have decided to let slip about last night to Ron, and was grateful she hadn’t done so. Harry didn’t know what Ron’s reaction would be, but he didn’t know what he would say to Ron either.

At least with Hermione having made her excuses plain to Ron Harry didn’t have to keep dodging questions about her all day, but he couldn’t avoid her that afternoon in Double Potions.

“Hey,” Ron greeted Hermione as they approached her leaning against the dungeon wall. Harry couldn’t help noticing her flushed cheeks from the warmth of the day, and it reminded him strongly of her flushed face the night before. He looked away before she noticed the look in his face, and led the way into Snape’s classroom. They seated themselves around their traditional desk, Harry helping himself quickly to one of the end seats. Hermione took the hint and tried not to be hurt by it, after all, she thought, if she’d have been first she’d have done the same, and still would, placing herself on the other side leaving Ron in the middle.

Hermione concentrated hard on what Snape was saying as he introduced another difficult potion for them to master, as she couldn’t bear the thought of Snape picking on her more than usual and possibly guessing the reason if she messed up her potion. Annoyingly, Snape had decided that this potion was complex enough to warrant them working in pairs, and it seemed he had already deduced that something was amiss between Harry and Hermione as he sneered down at them.

“Granger and Potter, lets see how you manage, whilst Weasley can work with Longbottom.” He swooped away with a billow of black cloak as Ron barely suppressed a groan; working with Neville in potions was a sure fail for the days work.

“Good luck guys, see you at the end,” he said, gathering his things and moving away.

Harry and Hermione sat in silence for a moment, then both began talking at once:

“I –” Harry started.

“We –” Hermione tried. They both stopped and Hermione looked away, wishing she were with anyone but Harry, even Malfoy. “We need to sort out the ingredients first,” she said, delving into her bag for her potions set, and Harry followed suit. “Some of the ingredients have to be cut with a special knife on a particular surface, and the others have to begin brewing.”

“I’ll cut,” Harry said hastily, he’d burnt too many potions in the last few weeks to last a lifetime, and didn’t think it’d be a good idea to do it again in front of Snape.

Hermione nodded and passed him some ingredients and then, hesitating, she began to write down how to cut each one and what with, so that they wouldn’t have to converse as much.

Harry watched as she wrote and once again cursed himself for getting into this mess, unable to believe that rather than watch him minutely to make sure the potion didn’t go wrong, Hermione would rather just let him do it to save talking to him. She flung the list at him and he picked it up carefully. As he read through the list, he noticed a drop on the page that looked suspiciously like a tear stain next to the instruction of: “severe the dragon heartstrings and slice thinly”. He glanced at Hermione sheepishly, but she was now focusing so hard on the task ahead she didn’t seem to notice his look, and, not seeing any trace of tears, he turned away and began to work.

Hermione brewed the rest of the potion to perfection, and then tidied away what she could. Eventually, when there was no other excuse, she turned back to Harry to see where he had got to. She watched his hands move; they were quite graceful as they carefully peeled and sliced and chopped, and she couldn’t help remembering where those skilled hands had been last night.

She cleared her throat loudly as if to dislodge the thought, and Harry glanced up, and then passed her the finished ingredients. Hermione took them and consulted the book before saying,

“We have to do this bit together.”

“What?” Harry asked, sounding harsh, and Hermione retaliated by shoving her book in front of him.

“One has to stir while the other pours them in. It needs two wizards, one won’t do.” She concluded, throwing down the book and picking up the tray of ingredients in one hand and the stirrer in another. She passed the tray to Harry without looking at him and started to stir the potion slowly. Harry began to pour in the ingredients, and against her better judgement Hermione found herself correcting him, unable to stop herself. “Not like that, you’re doing it too quickly. It has to be slower so that they all dissolve properly.”

Harry held back a retort and simply followed her instructions. After all, he decided, she’s still the best witch in the year – academically. As his concentration slipped, he accidentally sprinkled some powder onto Hermione’s hand which he hastily tried to wipe away lest it be some dangerous ingredient. He quickly put the tray down and brushed Hermione’s hand lightly with his before she even realised what had happened, and with his touch she jumped and splashed an amount of their potion over the floor.

“What are you doing?” she yelped as she grabbed a cloth and moped up the spilt potion.

“I just got something on your hand that’s all; I was trying to wipe it off!” Harry retorted angrily, then, noticing Ron was looking over curiously, he dropped to his knees beside Hermione and grabbed the cloth of her, finishing the job.

They finished the potion in complete silence, not getting any closer than absolutely necessary, and at the end still managed to hand in the best sample of the class, not that Snape said anything like it.

As Harry packed his bag Hermione grabbed her things and moved to Ron, he thought he heard her saying something about spending the evening with Ginny and gratefully kept his distance from her for the rest of the night.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The next few days passed in near complete silence for Harry and Hermione, she still spent her evenings with Ginny, and Ron always sat between them in class, though this was something he didn’t find odd at all, and thankfully just accepted Harry and Hermione’s quietness for boredom or their feigned excuses of illness.

One day, Ron had insisted on finding the girls at lunch time as he needed to speak to them about homework and family, and Harry reluctantly trailed after him to the blazing sunshine outside. They found the girls alone, sunbathing next to the lake, and Harry nearly had to dive straight into it to cool himself down. Hermione had taken off her usual black tights and ruffled up her skirt to let the sun get to her legs, as well as having unbuttoned the top several buttons on her shirt. Harry’s eyes slid over her and he cursed himself for noticing her body now, and how he could see a flash of lacy bra peeking above her shirt.

Hermione rolled onto her front as soon as she realised Harry was there, and pulled down her skirt to cover her legs more. She could hardly put her tights and shoes back on without making it obvious though, and had to make do with turning her face away from Harry in the act of sunbathing. She couldn’t help but remember the last time Harry had seen her bare feet, and curled her toes up at the thought of his gentle hands.

“Hey girls, how’s it going?” Ron asked happily, flopping himself down beside Hermione. She gave a non committal noise and pretended to be trying to sleep.

Harry strode away from the others as Ron embarked on a conversation with Ginny about some distant relatives birthday party and how they could best avoid going. Reaching the water’s edge Harry occupied himself skimming stones across the waters surface. The past few days without much contact with Hermione had been strange, but sort of good too. It had meant Harry didn’t have to think about what had happened, what he’d done… Losing his concentration Harry launched a stone into the lake that sank straight to the bottom, splashing noisily as it hit the surface hard. Harry turned away, frustrated, just to see Ginny come towards him. She had also unbuttoned her shirt slightly and, always having been a bit more daring than Hermione, her skirt stopped a lot higher on the leg. Harry watched as she approached him, smiling slightly and brushing her long red hair out of her face. Harry forced a smile onto his face and hugged her as she drew level with him.

“Hey Ginny,” he sighed into her hair, breathing in her scent and squeezing her tight to him.

“Hey Harry!” said Ginny in a teasing tone, surprised but pleased at his attention, but gently drawing herself away from him. He wouldn’t let her fully go though, and kept his arm draped around her shoulders. He looked into her green eyes, a softer shade than his own, but friendly and sparkling, as different as he could get from Hermione’s deep brown gaze. Harry forced his concentration back to Ginny and openly admired her figure with teasing eyes.

“Well you’ve certainly caught the sun,” he grinned cheekily.

“Oh no!” Ginny cried, looking down at herself, “have I burnt?”

“No…” Harry replied, reaching out to the unbuttoned shirt and gently stroking the exposed skin, “freckles,” he smiled at her, brushing the few freckles that had appeared there.

“Oh…” Ginny blushed, not used to Harry treating her like this. “Are you… are you ok Harry?” she asked tentatively, trying to read his emerald eyes.

“Sure,” he said, flippantly dismissing the question and getting back to flirting with Ginny. This was the way to get Hermione out of his head, he encouraged himself, it was just that he hadn’t been close to a girl for a while and the other night just happened because of that. But Ginny was a much safer option – he would enjoy her attention and that would sort him out. “Just taking pleasure in great beauty,” he said gently, tracing the edge of Ginny’s face with his hand. Her eyelids fluttered and she leaned almost imperceptibly closer to him. He copied her actions and the distance between them slowly began to close.

“Harry!” Ron called, “C’mon lets get some food - I’m hungry.”

Harry’s hand dropped from Ginny’s face and he gave her a casual lop sided grin, as he replied to Ron, “Sure,” locking eyes with Ginny again as he added quietly, “I’m hungry too.” Ginny blushed up at him and pushed him away playfully, so he turned towards Ron, who hadn’t noticed a thing as he was packing his bag, to make their way to the castle.

It was only then that he realised Hermione had rolled back over, and had watched the whole thing.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Did you see?” Ginny asked Hermione for the hundredth time that evening, and Hermione suppressed a frown as the topic rose again.

“Yes I saw. He looked really into you,” she added reluctantly.

“Yeah…” Ginny replied, lost in her thoughts of Harry and that afternoon. “It’s just, I had kinda started to like Dean…” she mused.

“Really?” Hermione asked, sitting up, “Well, you shouldn’t ditch Dean just ’cause it’s ‘Famous Harry’, that wouldn’t be right.” Hermione admonished severely.

Ginny looked up at Hermione’s tone.

“I know, Hermione,” she agreed, “But it’s not that is it? I mean, I used to really like Harry didn’t I? Head over heels type stuff. I thought I’d sort of got over it, but if he starts paying attention…” she trailed off thoughtfully. “Oh I don’t know!” she concluded eventually. “Still, it’s nice to get some attention isn’t it?!” she joked happily, turning back to her books.

Hermione agreed within the privacy of her own head; it certainly was nice to get attention. She just wasn’t as sure how nice it was to watch that attention going to someone else. She had a sudden flashback of Ginny and Harry’s faces drawing closer, his hand gently resting on her face, leaning in towards her. Hermione felt a burst of hatred and hurt, and decided she didn’t want to remain in Ginny’s company anymore that night.

“I’m off to bed,” she said as normally as she could manage, not quite able to look into Ginny’s face as she gathered her things and left.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry leaned over Hermione’s sun warmed figure as she lay back on the grass outside in the vest and shorts from that night. He smiled down at her, enjoying just watching her.

“Oh Harry,” she sighed, and this time he didn’t run, but leant down and kissed her lips gently, enjoying the warmth of her mouth, the taste of her tongue. He pulled away and looked down, then yelled out as he realised it wasn’t Hermione but Ginny.

“Are you… are you ok Harry?” Ginny asked tentatively, trying to read his emerald eyes.

Harry yelled and woke with a start. Ron was shaking him,

“Harry! It’s just a dream; it’s OK!” his friend comforted him, looking concerned.

Harry’s breathing returned to normal and he caught his breath as he realised it had just been a dream, then found himself slightly disturbed that it was actually worse than that – it was some sort of miss-matched memory.

“I’m fine,” he said eventually, realising Ron was worried about what he’d seen. “Just some stupid dream about, uhh, spiders,” he invented, and it had the desired effect as Ron recoiled shuddering.

“Ugh, fair enough mate, that’s enough to make anyone yell. Anyway, let’s go, I’ll meet you in the common room, see if Hermione’s up.”

Ron left and Harry reluctantly started pulling on his clothes unable to grasp quite how he’d managed to make the Hermione situation even more difficult by flirting with Ginny. He sighed and sloped down the staircase, expecting to find Ron alone by now, as for the past few days Hermione had shot off with Ginny before Harry had risen properly. He was surprised when he saw her standing with Ron, and blinked at her presence as he approached them.

Ron turned at the sound of Harry drawing closer, “Here she is!” he said triumphantly, “Hermione’s back with us today ’cause Ginny’s got a day in the forest monitoring unicorns.” Ron supplied happily, seeing Harry glance at Hermione.

Harry realised he couldn’t very well ignore this as Ron was obviously pleased to have her back. “Hey,” he said quietly, as Hermione fiddled with her hair, not looking at him.

Thankfully Ron was once more too preoccupied with thoughts of his food for him to notice that Hermione didn’t answer, and he led the way down to the great hall with Hermione keeping pace and Harry trailing behind. As they reached the Entrance Hall they saw Ginny preparing to leave with her class. Harry caught her eye and winked as he went passed and she flashed him a cute grin in response.

Well, Harry reasoned, he may be making things more complicated, but complications like Ginny weren’t exactly a bad thing for a teenage boy.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Thank God, finally some freedom!” Harry smiled appreciatively. He and Ron were on their way down to the Quidditch pitch for practise, and getting away from Hermione felt like a great release to him.

“What are you on about?!” Ron teased him, “we’ve just had two free periods!”

“Oh… yeah but… y’know we were still with – uhh our books…” Harry concluded lamely, but thankfully Ron seemed to catch his drift.

“Yeah I know what you mean, free periods sounded great at the beginning, but now we’ve realised how much work we actually need to do and they get filled up easy.”

Harry murmured an agreeing grunt, his mind not really on the work, but more on the excruciating hours of that afternoon, with Ron insisting they all work on the same thing at the same time so that he could get as much help as possible.

Unfortunately, it had been quite a hands-on afternoon. First of all they were trying to plot an astronomy map together, and every time Harry’s hand brushed Hermione’s, they both recoiled as if they’d been burnt. At one point Ron had noticed and exclaimed, “What the hell is up with you two?! You keep jumping into me and smudging my work!” to which Harry, not for the first time, could not think of an answer to and Hermione, not for the first time, had to rescue him from, muttering: “static shock.”

That had been nothing, however, to when Ron had insisted upon practising him stunning spell on them –

“It’ll be fine, look, I’ll stun Hermione and she’ll fall on the pillows then you can use enervate on her Harry, to wake her up again.”

The thought of Harry leaning over her as she lay upon the deserted common room floor was too much for Hermione to bear, and she made her objections obvious from the start.

“That’s ridiculous Ron; you don’t need both of us to practise with! You and – him – do it and I’ll go and do my Runes work.” She suggested easily, already picking up her bag and making her way to the door.

“Not so fast missy!” Ron said grasping her hand as she went past, “I can’t do enervate yet so I’ll need all the help I can get!” he smiled happily.

After several more escape attempts, through which Harry sat silently looking through a DADA book, Hermione eventually ran out of ideas and concluded that she had to go a long with it.

She collapsed repeatedly onto the pillows set out for her, and repeatedly had to awaken to Harry’s face, inches from her own, gazing down at her. He looked away quickly each time as soon as he was satisfied he’d woken her, and let her help herself up, just as she’d had to all those nights ago.

Harry shook the thoughts of her sleeping face from his mind as they got closer to the pitch and his eyes focused on Ginny, who was in the group of the rest of the Griffindor players waiting for the practise to start. He watched Ginny move between the other players, laughing easily with her friends, and trying to restrain her hair that was blowing in the soft breeze. He couldn’t help but feel something primal inside him stir, and tried to ignore the gnawing knowledge that it was nothing compared to how Hermione had made him feel. Of course it’s not, he reasoned, Hermione was near naked and laid out in front of him for him to do what he wished with her; looking at Ginny in her Quidditch robes and protective pads was hardly the same thing.

He kicked off the practise and pushed aside the thought of the girls, he needed to concentrate on Quidditch now.

After a few hours they traipsed back into the changing rooms and Harry went to the little office to draw up some more Quidditch tactics that he’d got ideas for in the days practise. He thought everyone had left as he finished up his plans but the sound of a shower suddenly stopping made him realise he probably wasn’t alone. He turned back into the changing rooms just in time to see Ginny emerge from the showers with a towel wrapped around her.

“Harry!” she screamed, nearly dropping her towel in fright. “Oh my God, you scared me to death! What are you doing here?”

Harry grinned sheepishly at her trying to cover as much flesh as possible with her large towel.

“Oh, just taking pleasure in great beauty,” he repeated from their last encounter, and noticed her blush as he advanced towards her, enjoying watching the drops of water from her shoulders run down her body. As he came closer to her, Ginny moved slowly backwards, until he’d backed her up against the wall and she couldn’t escape his body, pressing carefully against her.

“You know Ginny,” Harry said quietly, “You’re meant to ask permission before using the showers. I think you owe me an apology.” He whispered as he leaned down to her so that their lips were almost touching.

“I’m sorry,” Ginny gasped against his mouth, and as her lips moved they brushed lightly against his.

Harry looked down into Ginny’s face and told himself to kiss her, kiss her now, just do it. But try as he might, he couldn’t help but compare her face to Hermione’s, couldn’t help but compare the shape of her lips and the curve of her cheek.

A noise made them break apart and Harry came back to himself as he took in the sight of Ginny, breathing heavily leaning against the wall, looking over his shoulder. He turned to see what she was looking at, where the noise had come from, and couldn’t believe how bad his luck was.

“Oh.” Said Hermione, in a shocked voice as she stood in the doorway and took in the sight of Ginny in a towel and Harry next to her, just having turned from her face.

“Hermione, I – ” he started, but Hermione cut him off, not looking at him and instead turning to face Ginny.

“Ron’s looking for you Gin. I had to pop to Hagrid’s so I said I’d check here. He’s looking for you, anyway.” She finished, and walked out of the door into the now dark night.

Ginny moved to gather her clothes and head for a cubicle to change in, whilst Harry still stood rooted to the spot, mind reeling.

“Ginny, I – ” Harry tried, but this time Ginny cut him off and, smiling, said:

“It’s OK Harry, I get it. Nothing happened, right?” and made her way to a cubicle.

Harry stared after her and couldn’t move for the thoughts in his head. Eventually he came to, and, realising he didn’t want the awkward walk up to the castle with Ginny, headed off without her.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hermione gasped and choked on her sobs as she ran through the castle to the first safe haven she could find – the Prefects bathroom. Thankfully no one was in there as it had got quite late, and she collapsed in a heap in the far corner.

How could he do this to her? How could Harry, her best friend, do this to her? She sobbed as she played the sequence back over in her head as she opened the door and saw Harry’s body pressed against Ginny’s, seemingly just having broken a romantic kiss. Ginny had only been in a towel, Hermione hated to think what else might have happened down in the changing rooms, had they done more than kiss? Had he touched Ginny with the same fingers he’d touched her with?

The sobs racked through Hermione’s body and she hated how hard she cried, hated how much she cared what Harry did. She didn’t blame Ginny - even in their time alone together Hermione hadn’t confided to her what had happened with her and Harry, and Ginny had said she welcomed the attention from Harry… No, it was him to blame. Her mind threw up flashbacks of all the times they’d had together, when he first rescued her from that troll, how he’d always tried to look out for her, to keep her from harm.

Well, she thought bitterly, just because he’d saved her from Death Eaters and Voldemort she had still ended up getting hurt, and she couldn’t imagine that even Crucio could cause as much pain as she felt now.

Exhausted, she hauled herself up and began to turn taps to fill the gorgeous, massive tub in the middle of the room, and poured in thick, scented bubbles to relax in, even as she did so remembering Harry’s description of the room and the different taps before they were even allowed down here, when Cedric had let him enter.

She choked back another sob and stripped off before lowering herself into the hot water and lying back to relax. She breathed in the scents and let the warmth of the bath ease her knotted muscles. She washed her face and felt better for wiping the salt tears away, losing them in this giant tub, and wished she could do the same with her pain.

Eventually she began to wash herself and her hair, grateful for the warmth and time alone to relax.

No sooner had she had the thought than the door began to open, then, seemingly of its own accord, swing shut. Hermione held her breath not sure whether to yell or stay quiet, when suddenly Harry emerged from under his Invisibility Cloak.

He obviously hadn’t noticed her yet, hidden in her think blanket of foam, and she watched as he collapsed by the edge of the pool sized bath, sighing heavily. He removed his glasses as they began to steam up, and wiped his face as if exhausted, resting his head on his knees.

Hermione was frozen. She was naked in the same room as the boy who was breaking her heart, and he was totally oblivious to her presence. She glanced around the room, looking for some kind of escape, and realised her only hope lay in the Cloak Harry himself had just taken off. Reaching silently for her wand, Hermione stopped as she realised Harry was beginning to undress, and, cringing slightly at the awkwardness that would bring she grabbed her wand and muttered, “Accio cloak!” causing the cloak to begin to glide across the floor towards her. However, Hermione had to admit Harry obviously wasn’t the Chosen One for no reason, as he whipped his wand out at lightning speed and pointed it directly at Hermione, who froze, caught in the act.

Harry scrabbled for his glasses, and when he managed to get them on they confirmed his nightmare, Hermione was in here, in the bath, in the bathroom. She was naked and Harry wasn’t far off himself.

“Hermione-” his speech was cut off as Hermione sent a jinx flying towards his face which he had to dodge.

“Protego!” he yelled, and a shield instantly formed in front of him, blocking the multiple jinxes Hermione sent in his direction. Eventually she stopped, realising it was no use, and warily lowered her wand. Harry flicked his to break the shield, and for a moment thought he’d be regretting it as he saw Hermione’s wand hand twitch. He gave an involuntary flinch but nothing came his way, so he cautiously waited for Hermione to speak.

“Close your eyes.” She said in a voice barely above a whisper, not looking at him.

“What?” he asked, confused.

“Close your eyes,” she repeated again, quietly.

“Hermione this is no time for games!” Harry burst out angrily, only to get Hermione’s retaliation in full force as she screamed:

“Close your fucking eyes, Harry! I know you’ve seen most of my body by now but I’m not letting you see anymore!”

Harry blinked, shocked at the outburst, but realised she’d just wanted to get out of the bath, which he could understand as the thought of her in there was rather confusing him too. He turned away and tried not to imagine her as he heard her slip out of the bath and walk across the room.

“There,” she said, granting him permission to turn around, and as he saw her tanned body swathed in one of the bright white Prefects towels she bitterly added, “Isn’t this how you like your girls, Harry? Just a towel around them?”

Harry winced at the bitterness in her voice and looked away from the tears running down her face.

“What’s the matter, Harry?” Hermione questioned harshly, “Can’t stand to look at me? What, is it because I’m so fucking useless compared to Ginny? Or is it because you can’t stand to see what you’ve done?”

“What did I do?” Harry asked angrily, unable to accept the blame, unable to admit that she was right. He couldn’t stand to see how badly he’d messed things up, how much he’d hurt her.

“YOU USED ME!” she screamed in reply. He looked up into her face and after a few moments pause she repeated: “You used me, Harry.”

Harry cast his eyes down, his mind whirring, not wanting to accept the reality of it all. Had he used her? He hadn’t meant to… he’d just wanted her so much and had acted on it. He didn’t think that counted as using her, but as he looked up at her he realised she already knew he didn’t understand.

“You just don’t get it, do you Harry?” she whispered, letting more tears run down her face. “You used me, and you don’t understand how you let it happen.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

That’s the end of this chapter.

I’m sorry! Harry will stop being a jerk soon… I promise!

Hi guys, thanks again for all of your reviews. I appreciate the fact that quite a few of you didn’t like the last chapter, and only hope this one will go down better! We’ll see though…

By the way, it follows on immediately from Chapter 3.

Disclaimer: J.K. is the genius, Harry and co. are hers.

Niffling

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hermione remembered striding to one of the small rooms off the main bathroom after throwing her finishing remark at Harry. It had taken her a while to realise she was in what was sometimes used as a steam room, and she numbly lay herself across one of the wooden benches. She’d felt like she was in some kind of daze, and had drifted to sleep surprisingly quickly. She had thought that she would never be able to sleep again, but her physical exhaustion had got the better of her, and she woke a few hours later, shivering in the cold room.

Slowly getting to her feet, Hermione had cautiously opened the door of the steam room to glance around the main bathroom, only to find it now deserted. As she had made to move towards the door, Hermione’s feet found something soft and warm on the floor. It was Harry’s cloak, folded out in front of the steam room.

Even as she considered leaving the cloak there, letting this act of kindness slip by her, Hermione’s intellect had got the better of her – being caught out of bed at this time would only land her in trouble she didn’t need. The cloak had bought instant warmth to her, and she’d made her way up to Griffindor Tower with no problems.

Now, she stood at the window in her dorm, freshly changed into a thick pair of pjs and held an open letter in her hand.

Hermione,

Darling, we know there should be a better way of telling you this, but this is the quickest. Your grandmother has died. We’re not sure what happened yet, the doctors can’t be sure of the cause of death. We have asked your headmaster if you can come home for a while, we think it would be better if you were with the family for a bit. We’ll be there at 7am to get you.

All our love,

Mum and Dad

For the first time in days, Hermione wanted to cry but couldn’t.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry made his way rapidly to the Room of Requirement, and after striding up and down outside several times, opened the door. A startlingly grand bedroom had suddenly appeared.

At one end of the room there was a king sized bed with white silken sheets draped over it, strewn with scarlet rose petals. The other end of the room was what appeared to be a wall sized window, looking out into the night sky that twinkled with stars. The wall had obviously been temporarily enchanted with the same charm as the Great Hall ceiling, and was mimicking the outdoors.

As Harry looked around the room taking in the flowers, chocolates and champagne, he growled angrily and slammed the Room of Requirement door with a bang.

This time, marching back and forth in front of the entrance, Harry thought not of what he wanted, but what he felt like he needed right now. This time, as the door swung open, he sighed in relief as PlayStations and Nintendo games galore filled the room. It was a lot smaller than it had been just moments earlier, but the sight was much less painful for Harry now, and he slipped into the room, quietly closing the door behind him.

He crashed down onto a bean bag that was handily set squarely in front of the large T.V. screen, and had all of the remotes in reach. Harry flicked on the television, idly wondering how it worked and whether it was a real television or if special enchantments had had to be put in place for it to work despite the high levels of magic surrounding it. A soap seemed to be in mid flow, and Harry relaxed as two burly men squared up to each other and began throwing threats back and forth. He was bought back down to earth when the next scene came on, and a couple lay in bed, happily wrapped round each other and looking very pleased with themselves. Harry’s insides squirmed as he thought of Hermione, and he quickly switched to the games consoles, and spent the night shooting zombies and monsters, trying to ward off any thoughts of Hermione.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry groggily woke up and, looking around him, wondered where he was and why he felt so bad. It all came rushing back to him as he saw the empty Butterbeer bottles in front of him and the bachelor pad style of the room he was in. Groaning as he sat up, he glanced at a clock on the wall and swore heavily as he realised he was going to be late for his first class.

He jumped up, and by opening the random doors that he didn’t appear to remember from last night, Harry managed to find a shower and wardrobe, and hastily prepared himself for the day ahead. It was only as he was about to leave that Harry realised his first lesson was Potions, and he groaned once more as he realised he would have to try and deal with Snape and Hermione, as well as dealing with a splitting headache.

Finally Harry arrived, out of breath, outside the dungeon, and took a moment to compose himself before entering Snape’s lair with caution.

“Potter, you’re late,” a voice observed harshly, but Harry nearly laughed out loud with relief as Professor McGonagall’s voice greeted him rather than the oily tones of Snape.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re thinking, Potter!” McGonagall warned him as if reading his mind, “just because Professor Snape is unavailable today does not mean he won’t hear about this. Take your seat.”

Harry tried to make his face appear less jovial, and sat down next to Ron. After looking around the rest of the class he found himself strangely disappointed to not see any sign of Hermione. He had got used to being grateful when she wasn’t in the same class, but not having her there felt strange.

“Where’s Hermione?” Harry whispered to Ron, hoping he knew where their friend was.

“Oh mate,” Ron replied in a serious tone, “one of her relatives died, they didn’t know the cause of death apparently… anyway she went home for a bit, be with family, y’know…” Ron trailed off, looking troubled.

Harry felt like he’d just been slapped in the face; Hermione’s family? How could this happen? It was his fault; he knew it, his fault for being close to Hermione and bringing attention from Voldemort’s Death Eater gang. Harry’s head gave another violent burst of pain which he couldn’t distinguish between a Voldemort link or his hangover, and Harry swore at himself for being so stupid to have let this happen.

Harry was about to stand to leave when he suddenly realised everyone else was doing the same, and the lesson had ended. He’d obviously overslept more than he thought. As he stood, a wave of giddiness swept over him and for a moment he couldn’t see for the stars flashing in front of his eyes. He fell back into his seat, breathing heavily, trying to clear his head.

“Potter?” McGonagall’s voice came to him, and Harry looked up into her concerned face. “Goodness whatever’s the matter with you? You’re as pale as a ghost! I think you’d better have the rest of the day off, you’ve missed half of it anyway. I’ll inform your teachers, off with you!” McGonagall dismissed him, and Harry was grateful for the chance to get back to his bed.

Ron was waiting outside for him, and came over as Harry exited the classroom.

“Sorry about that, thought I’d rush off before she remembered I hadn’t handed in my homework!” Ron said cheekily, then, noticing Harry’s pale face, asked: “What’s up Harry?”

“McGonagall gave me the rest of the day off,” Harry said shortly, not wanting to waste time on this small detail. “Look, mate, do you know when Hermione’s meant to be back?”

“No… how come? I kinda got the impression you two weren’t getting along?” Ron said, surprising Harry who had thought Ron was oblivious to his and Hermione’s discomfort. Ron smiled knowingly saying, “I’m not actually as dumb as you think Harry. Well, not all the time,” he added with a smirk.

“Yeah… well, she needs us doesn’t she?”

“I guess, but I think she needs her family now more mate. Look, I’ve got to go and speak to Neville about this research work Sprout gave us to do – without Hermione I’ve got no chance unless I get him. See you later yeah?” Ron said, starting to turn away from Harry, obviously keen to get as much help from Neville as possible.

“Yeah, see you later,” Harry replied and made his way up to the Griffindor common room slowly.

As he entered the room he was confronted by the sight of Ginny and Dean wrapped around each other in a tight embrace, kissing passionately. Harry felt himself blush and when they didn’t immediately break apart he stepped backwards and then re-entered, making sure to trip his way noisily through the portrait hole.

“Hey Harry!” Dean greeted him smugly, finally breaking apart from Ginny. “I was just about to try and find Neville, you seen him?”

Harry grinned knowingly: “Not sure, but Ron’s got the same idea about the homework - maybe they’re in the library?”

“Great, thanks. See you later, Gin,” Dean said turning back to Ginny and kissing her again before grinning happily at Harry and leaving.

“Hey Harry,” Ginny smirked mischievously, “how’s it going?!”

“Think I should ask you the same thing!” Harry laughed, “so you and Dean? That’s cool, he’s a nice guy.”

Ginny sobered her face in response to this and looked at Harry carefully before hesitantly speaking.

“You don’t mind do you, Harry? I mean, the other night… well, like I said, nothing happened, and I don’t really know what that was all about anyway to be honest.” She concluded with a confused expression on her face.

“No! No it’s cool. Honestly. God, I feel like shit,” Harry admitted, throwing himself into one of the squashy chairs in front of the fire and feeling sorry for himself about his banging head.

“What’s up?” Ginny asked in a concerned manner, sitting on the seat next to him.

“It’s Hermione.” Harry blurted suddenly, unable to hold it in any longer.

“O…K…” Ginny replied slowly, “I was kinda expecting you to say a headache or something… but Hermione? Why?”

“One of her grandparents died, didn’t you hear?” Harry asked, and then continued without waiting for a reply: “I should be with her; she’d need her friends…”

Friends… As Harry said that word he suddenly realised the extent of what he had done to Hermione. His mind flashed back to when he had kissed her for that first time. At the time he hadn’t really realised how it had happened, but now he could remember; remember that they’d been in front of the fire in the evening, both trying to complete separate bits of homework, sat in a comfortable silence as they worked. Harry was beginning to feel bored and his mind wouldn’t stay on the task in hand when Hermione had suddenly burst out:

“Oh ffffffffffffffff-FWOOPER!”

Harry looked across her incredulously, a smile beginning to form on his face.

“Fwooper?!” he asked with raised eyebrows.

Hermione looked over at him with a frown that began to melt when she saw the look on his face.

“What?!” she asked innocently, “I was trying not to swear!”

“Yeah, but… fwooper?!” Harry said, beginning to grin.

“It’s an African bird! If you listen to its song for too long it can drive you insane!” Hermione explained defensively.

“I think it’s driven you insane already, Hermione!” Harry teased and began to laugh. He had reached the point of boredom and exhaustion where you either laugh hysterically or cry, and this time he’d opted for laughing. As he chuckled, the situation became even more hilarious in his head, and as Hermione watched him she began to join in too.

“Fwooper!!” Harry gasped through his laughter, setting the two of them off again and soon they couldn’t breathe for their amusement. Hermione leant over to Harry, still in hysterics, and pushed him hard as he closed his eyes in mirth. Harry fell, caught of guard and slid onto the floor with a startled look on his face which only made Hermione laugh all the more. In retaliation Harry grabbed one of her legs and started to pull her off her chair onto the floor with him. She squealed and tried to hold onto the chair, only for him to start tickling the one foot he had got hold of, causing her to go weak with laughter and sink to the floor, landing half on top of him.

They lay there laughing until finally it ran out, and they were left breathing heavily, trying to catch their breath. Hermione had turned herself over slightly, and she had looked down at him underneath her with the laughter still twinkling in her eyes and her face flushed as she sighed happily. She smiled at him, and in that moment Harry suddenly realised how beautiful Hermione was. Her brown eyes echoed the smile on her face, with those perfect white teeth surrounded by her soft pink lips. As he thought just how kissable those lips looked to him, Hermione began to push herself up off the floor. Without even thinking Harry wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back towards him, then rolled her over so that he was on top of her. The smile had spread again on her face as she thought he was continuing their game, and as he looked down at her and began to lean towards her, she lifted her head slightly to meet his lips with hers.

The kiss was like the softness of a rose petal brushing both their lips…

“… and I think her family would rather have her with them at the moment to be honest.” Ginny’s voice finally permeated Harry’s thoughts and he looked up at her, almost as if in a daze. She was looking at him, obviously waiting for him to respond, so he tried to bring his thoughts back to present.

“But I need to talk to her, I need to tell her I’m sorry!” he explained, trying to make her understand.

“Sorry for what?” Ginny asked, confused again.

“Everything!” Harry burst out. He jumped up out of the chair, unable to sit still any longer. His mind was buzzing with thought and his body mimicked them as he paced back and forth with Ginny watching him from where she was sat.

“I’ve been a prick, Ginny, and I need to apologise to her for that. Now she’s even more hurt and it’s all my-” Harry stopped, not wanting to the last word aloud, and paced away from Ginny again.

“…Fault?” Ginny asked, shrewdly. “How can it be your fault Harry? You can’t hold yourself responsible for everythi-”

“I kissed her Ginny! I kissed her. And I made her think something could happen when it can’t.”

“Why not?” Ginny asked him, recovering well from the shock of Harry revealing something happened between him and Hermione. “Don’t you like her?”

“Of course I like her!” Harry exploded, “I fucking- I like her, yes.” Harry said, pacing again, trying to control himself and not end up falling out with Ginny as well.

“So…?”

“So look what’s happened, Gin,” Harry said turning to her. “Just kissing her has led to one of her grandparent’s death!”

Ginny froze, staring at Harry with a look of shock on her face.

“You think it’s your fault her grandparent died? You think it’s ‘cos of you?” Ginny asked, incredulous at Harry.

“Oh c’mon Gin!” Harry said, still pacing, “everyone knows Voldemort’s behind this!”

“Oh my God, what did you do to her?” Ginny said, not seeming to have taken in what Harry had just said.

“What?” Harry said, stopping pacing suddenly, confused by what Ginny meant.

Ginny looked up at him again, coming out of her thoughts.

“You think this is your fault? So after you kissed her, what happened then? You said you hurt her…”

Harry looked away from Ginny and squirmed under her piercing gaze.

“What did you do, Harry?” Ginny demanded, raising her voice.

“I sort of… stopped… talking… to… her…” Harry admitted quietly, blushing slightly.

“YOU WHAT?” Ginny exploded, erupting out of her chair and grabbing Harry by the arms, shaking him until he looked at her.

“I stopped talking to her OK?”

“Why??” Ginny asked, looking at Harry in disbelief.

“Because I was afraid this would happen!” Harry burst out, pulling himself away from Ginny, and pacing away to the window. He hadn’t realised until he’d said it that it was true. He had pushed Hermione away because he was afraid of her getting hurt, because he knew from bitter experience that those closest to him were the ones in most danger, and he couldn’t bear to be responsible for Hermione getting harmed, couldn’t bear to imagine her having to deal with something so hard it would take away something from the vibrant person she was now.

Harry heard Ginny sigh behind him, and then quietly say:

“And did you explain any of this to her Harry? Or did you just make her think you hated her?”

Harry turned back towards her again, and as he met her eyes he whispered softly:

“Oh Gin, what have I done?”

Hi guys, I had to pause this story as my computer broke completely and so I didn’t have a machine to write on. I still don’t so its slow progress as I borrow a laptop when I can, but I have finally done this next chapter. Hope you enjoy and sorry for the long wait.

Disclaimer: J.K. is the genius, Harry and co. are hers.

Niffling

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Ginny looked at Harry pityingly as she saw the hurt in his eyes at the realisation of what he had done.

“Harry, you are not to blame for this, OK?” she said as she crossed over to him. “No one even knows this happened do they? So how could Voldemort know? Hmm?”

“Ginny, he can be in my head anytime he likes. I can’t be sure what he knows, or doesn’t.” Harry sighed emphatically.

“Harry this is absurd!” Ginny burst out. “I’m sorry but - ”

“No, it’s not.” Harry started angrily. He was annoyed and upset and didn’t find being called absurd helped his mood. “Do you have any idea of what it’s like to know that he can crawl through my mind uninvited at any time, see things in my head that I’m only just discovering now myself?”

Ginny stood silently for a minute with her eyes locked on Harry’s.

“Yes.” She said simply.

Suddenly all of the anger Harry had built towards Ginny died as he realised what he had said, and to whom.

“Oh Gin,” he said, moving to her, “I’m so sorry Gin I wasn’t thinking, I –”

“Yeah well good for you,” Ginny grumbled avoiding his touch.

After a few moments of silence she continued: “Look, Harry, I probably know better than a lot of people what that’s like after what Riddle’s diary did to me, and it was just the same situation. I felt awful because of what me liking you led to. But you have to think rationally Harry. Think of all the times afterwards when I was upset about it and you told me it wasn’t my fault. Were you lying when you said that?”

“Of course not, it wasn’t your fault at all that Riddle got me down there and hurt those people.”

“Exactly.” Ginny said matter of factly. When Harry continued to look at her with a confused expression she carried on. “If that wasn’t my fault Harry then how on earth can you blame yourself for this?”

Harry took in Ginny’s words and slowly began to see that they made sense. He couldn’t blame himself for everything bad thing that happened to the people he loved. It was Voldemort that hurt people, not Harry.

Well, not until now, Harry thought bitterly.

How could he have been so stupid to have pushed Hermione away? He realised now that if Voldemort could see how Harry felt through his mind then Harry not being with Hermione wasn’t going to change that. He would just be making them both more miserable and still not managing to keep Hermione from whatever danger existed there for her.

“Harry?” Ginny asked tentatively, waking Harry from his reverie. “Are you OK?”

“Yeah,” he replied hastily, “yeah I’m alright. I just… I can’t believe what a jerk I’ve been Ginny.” He admitted quietly.

“Well you are a guy,” Ginny teased softly, and when he didn’t smile she went over to him and led him to sit back down in a chair.

“Harry,” she said, pushing him down and looking carefully at him. “I admit you really could have dealt with this whole Hermione thing a hell of a lot better. But your reasons make sense, in a kind of weird Harry Potter hero way, and I reckon if you can just explain to Hermione then you guys should be able to sort things out.”

“Really?” Harry asked, looking vulnerably up at her from those tired green eyes.

“Yes.” Ginny said firmly. “But right now, you need some sleep. You’re all crazy and tired and, to be honest, you’re not looking so hot right now. So just go to bed OK? There’s nothing you can do about Hermione now, she needs time to be with her family and deal with this without having to think about other things.”

Harry nodded slowly.

“You’re right, Gin,” he said standing up and moving towards his dormitory. He turned back as he reached the staircase and looked at her. “Thanks, Ginny.” He said sincerely, looking at the girl who had once had such a school girl crush on him, ad now knew more about relationships than he thought he ever would.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The next few days passed in torment for Harry as Hermione still did not return back to Hogwarts. He found it hard to concentrate on his work, and constantly thought about how he was going to make things right with Hermione.

Dear Hermione,

I just wanted to say I’m sorry for how much of a bad friend I have been --

Hey Hermione!

How’s it going? Enjoy your time off?--

Hermione,

I really like you. I’m sorry. --

Harry looked at the various half written notes that lay scattered and crumpled all over his desk and groaned aloud. He couldn’t think of the right words to say and on paper it all looked either too formal or completely insincere.

“What’s up?” a voice asked at the door.

Harry swung round, he hadn’t heard Ron enter and now hastily tried to cover what he was doing and grab up all of the abandoned letters.

“Hey Ron,” he said in an overly jovial tone. “How’s it going?”

“Uhh not too bad,” Ron answered, watching his friend’s odd behaviour and deciding to ignore it. “I just thought I’d let you know I heard from Hermione.”

Harry stopped dead at the sound of her name and felt a blow of hurt, she’d written to Ron but not Harry?

“She said they’re having a funeral next week and she was told she could have the time off till then but she’s worried about school work so she’ll come back for few days tomorrow.”

Harry nodded slowly, trying to not let the apprehension at the thought of seeing her again show on his face.

“Poor Hermione,” he said quietly, feeling the guilt that he’d finally managed to shake off land on him again. What if it was because of him that Voldemort had gone after Hermione’s family?

“Yeah it looks like her gran had a really heavy stroke or something. Hermione said at least it was quick but still…” Ron trailed off uncomfortably.

Meanwhile Harry was caught up with the diagnosis; they’d determined the cause of death! Surely if they’d determined it was a stroke already there was nothing too untoward going on, and no magic involved. Harry found himself smiling, relieved.

“That’s great!” he said without thinking.

“What?” Ron asked, appalled.

“Oh shit… no not that… I mean… I was thinking about something else.” Harry covered lamely, realising his error.

“Right…” Ron said, unsure, and took that as his cue to leave. “Well I’ll see you at dinner anyway, I’m playing chess with Seamus in the common room so meet me there.”

“Sure,” Harry replied, trying not to let his smile show. The urge to grin soon faded as he realised he only had a matter of hours to come up with what to say to Hermione. He sat back at his desk and began scribbling again.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hermione arrived by floo into Professor McGonagall’s office at 2pm the next day. The professor had a free period and after looking at Hermione intently for a minute or so dismissed her telling her firmly to have the rest of the day off.

As Hermione dragged her bags behind her up to the Griffindor common room she reflected on whether it was a good idea to have come back so soon. She’d cried initially when she’d met her parents and the rest of her family, and reminisced at her Grandma’s old house. But since then she’d felt awkward being there, she hadn’t seen her Grandma for a few years so although she felt sad, she hadn’t lost someone close. It was difficult being around the rest of the family who cried constantly and didn’t want to talk about anything but the death, as if it would somehow be disrespectful to have idle chit chat at a time like this.

Hermione had grown restless and, unable to do any work, (due to the rest of the family not knowing she was a witch) she’d just spent hours thinking of what a mess things with Harry were in. She’d been over and over the situation in her head, explaining away her tears as grief over her Grandmother, and feeling guilty at each lie.

Eventually she’d come to a conclusion. If the death of her Grandma had taught her anything it was that you never knew what was going to come your way and life was too short to spend your time moping. It was obvious Harry didn’t want her; to him it had been a mistake. Alright so he’d let it happen more than once, so yeah he was a bit of a jerk. So get over him, she told herself firmly, and had insisted on going back to school and stop being afraid of the consequences.

Now that she was here though, she felt afraid as hell. Each step she took towards the common room felt like another step towards him and she didn’t know how she would deal with him face to face. It had been alright thinking she would get over him at home, now that she was back at Hogwarts everywhere she looked reminded her of Harry.

Eventually she reached the common room and said the password Ron had sent her an owl with. As she scrambled through the portrait hole she felt her apprehension rise, and then suddenly deflate. She felt oddly disappointed now that she had got here and Harry was nowhere in sight.

Sighing, she dragged her bag up the stairs to her room, and collapsed on the bed, trying not to think about where a certain someone would be right now.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“Harry you have to stop making such stupid predictions for Trelawney! Divination can be really important for witches and wizards.”

“Oh come on, Lavender,” Harry said scoffing at the girl next to him, “you know she has about as much talent as a Blast Ended Skrewt!”

Lavender couldn’t help but laugh at this as they made their way up to the common room with Seamus and Ron just behind them.

“That’s not the point though Harry,” she tried again to attempt seriousness as Harry let her go first through the portrait hole.

“Such a gentleman,” Ron teased quietly in Harry’s ear, looking pointedly at Lavender’s bum as she bent to go through the portrait hole.

“Oh shut up Ron! You’re such a sleaze!” Harry laughed back at his friend and purposefully not looking at Lavender as she squeezed her way through.

“OK Lavender,” he said, attempting to continue the conversation as he followed her, “but how am I meant to do anything else when I can’t Seeee for the life of me?!” Harry teased.

“Well I could take a look for you…” Lavender offered slowly.

“HERMIONE!” Ron yelled flinging himself towards the girl who sat in one of the chairs watching them quietly.

“Uhh I’ll have to pass thanks, Lav, I think Divination’s a load of rubbish to be honest.” Harry said, quickly removing himself and heading over to Hermione, hoping she hadn’t thought anything was going on between him and Lavender.

“Hey Hermione,” he said tentatively as he approached her and sinking into the other armchair that occupied the space where the trio usually sat.

“Hi,” she said quietly avoiding his eye.

“Are you… are you OK?”

“I don’t want to talk about it Harry.” Hermione answered quickly, and Ron reached out a comforting hand from where he sat, rubbing Hermione’s shoulder. She smiled weakly at him, and Harry felt a sudden wish that he was Ron at that moment.

“Ron do you er… do you want to play chess?” Harry asked suddenly, after an awkward moment’s pause.

“Yeah mate!” Ron accepted speedily, always enjoying the chance to beat Harry at something. His face fell as he said, “oh but I lost that pawn under my bed somewhere, remember I told you about it yesterday?”

“Oh yeah,” Harry said, as if he had only just remembered it, “well, if you start looking now I’m sure it won’t take too long to find!” he added happily.

Ron nodded absently and left to look for the lost pawn, which Harry knew would keep him occupied for a few minutes, leaving him alone with –

“Hermione,” he said intensely, leaning towards her, “we need to talk, I need to – ”

“NO, Harry.” Hermione said, snapping her book shut suddenly, and looking across at him. “I said: I don’t want to talk about it.” As Harry opened his mouth to assure her he wasn’t going to talk about her Grandma, Hermione talked over him.

“I meant I didn’t want to talk about any of it, Harry.” She said, standing and heading off to her dormitory.

Hey, I repeat last chapter’s apologies at the slow work - my computer is broken completely so I don’t have a machine to write on so I really apologise for the long wait.

I also should warn you that Hermione is somewhat OoC this chapter, I justify this due to the grief she is suffering but apologise in advance if it causes offence.

Disclaimer: J.K. is the genius, Harry and co. are hers.

Niffling

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Slowly things began to improve for Hermione and she was able to deal with her grief more. In truth she felt bad that now that she was back at Hogwarts around Harry she spent more of her time feeling grieved about her situation with him than she did about her grandmother’s death.

Hermione sighed as she realised she had just inadvertently thought about him – again.

It was a regular occurrence and although she was trying to keep as much distance between them as possible she couldn’t avoid him forever.

As if to make the point, as she rounded the next corner she realised that she was headed straight for him. Suppressing a groan she toyed with the idea of retracing her footsteps and dodging Harry once more, but – too late – he looked up at that moment and concern quickly filled his eyes as he saw her.

Hermione braced herself and continued towards him, wishing she could pretend she hadn’t seen him.

“Hermione!” Harry yelled, keen to make her stop and talk to him. As he had guessed, she didn’t want to cause a scene by ignoring him when plenty of people had looked round at Harry’s yell, and her footsteps slowed as she reached him.

“Yes?” Hermione asked as she neared him, keeping her eyes low and making Harry’s heart sink. She had stopped a good few paces from Harry and he took a step towards her to try and close the gap, to have a private word. However, as he stepped forward Hermione stepped neatly backward ensuring the gap between them did not decrease.

Harry looked at her sadly, wanting her to catch his eye, wanting nothing more than to see that smile of hers he had missed for what felt like so long.

“Hermione, please,” he whispered softly looking at her with hurt in his eyes.

Hermione looked up at Harry then, her own eyes full of anger.

“Please what Harry?” she asked in a low voice like a growl, watching him back away slightly at the ferocity in her voice.

“Just – I –” Harry stammered and Hermione smirked cruelly at him. How could she feel so strongly for a man – boy – who couldn’t even string a sentence together? She stepped around him, deftly avoiding his outstretched arm reaching after her and walked away, trying desperately to cling the image of him as a stuttering useless boy, and trying not to give in to how much it made her want to comfort him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“GRYFINNDOR WINS!” The magically amplified voice boomed over the grounds.

Harry felt the first proper smile in days spread over his face as he waved the struggling snitch in his hand above his head. Merlin it had been good to get out of the castle and fly again to just concentrate on something other than Hermione for five minutes. To do something that he knew he wouldn’t mess up completely.

The smile weakened off Harry’s face as his descent to ground took him towards the Gryffindor crowds, and Hermione who was stood smiling congratulating Ron on the win. As Harry landed Hermione looked up and accidentally caught his eye, a big grin still plastered on her face after the excitement of the game. She’s so beautiful, Harry thought, losing his concentration and slipping in the mud as he hit the ground. Really smooth Harry he thought angrily to himself, glancing up at Hermione again only to find she was already heading back to the castle. As he looked wistfully after her Ron approached him.

“Well done mate, good game! There’s talk of a post game party in the common room, lets get cleaned up.”

Harry nodded glumly and went to hit the showers.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hermione was furiously having a silent argument with herself as she tried to find something decent to wear for the party that night. As the balls that they had were not often enough for most teenagers liking the Gryfinndor’s occasionally decided that their post game parties would be a bit more than just a laugh among friends, and someone (usually the older year girls) set about forcing the boys into something other than their dirty kits and decorated the common room a little more.

It gave them all something to do and gave the couples who were just starting out an opportunity to express their interest in each other. Something I never want to think about again reflected Hermione as she pulled out a new pair of trousers she’d got when she went home. Though she wasn’t one for retail therapy she had seen her mother’s invitation for what it was – an excuse for her mother to relieve her own stresses rather than stock up Hermione’s wardrobe. However, Hermione mused, she had come away with a few nice things.

Once she’d dressed she eyed herself up in the mirror. Her jeans were very deep navy blue and were tight fit. She wore a simple white top with a low scoop neck and had her usually bound back hair down.

As she eyed her own body Hermione tried to forget the images of Harry’s that floated back through her mind. Unfortunately having seen him fly this afternoon she couldn’t deny how good he looked.

Stop it.

Hermione firmly put the thought of Harry from her mind and tried to concentrate on the night to come. Ginny had been the one to persuade her to even bother going downstairs, and in return for Hermione agreeing to go had promise that she would spend plenty of time with her friend and to try and make it as enjoyable as possible for Hermione.

Hermione turned at a knock on the door and sure enough there was Ginny, who seemed to be rather giggly.

“Quick let me in!” Ginny shrieked laughing uncontrollably, falling onto Hermione’s bed as the older girl looked on in a bemused way.

“What on earth got into you?” she asked walking over to join Ginny on the bed.

“This!” Ginny said, triumphantly holding up two bottles of elf made wine.

“Ginny!” Hermione gasped, realising a sizeable amount was already missing from the first bottle. “Where did you get this?!”

“From the kitchens.” Ginny said, still giggling a little, though Hermione was glad to realise it was mainly from excitement, not drink. “The twins were going to get some butterbeer so I went with them insisting that there should be an alternative for some of my less ale-loving friends.” Ginny accompanied the last phrase with a heavy wink in Hermione’s direction, who only ever had two butterbeers before turning in for the night.

“Oh Ginny!” Hermione gasped, exasperated, “I don’t want to get drunk!”

“Sure you do” Ginny corrected. “Anyway, you don’t have to get drunk, I just thought it might… you know… take your mind off things a bit…” Ginny trailed off awkwardly having becoming increasing sober in the last sentence.

Hermione’s heart went out to her friend being so thoughtful for her, even if it was in a slightly odd way.

“I don’t know Gin,” she said, already feeling her resolve waver.

“Oh c’mon Hermione, you can’t say you haven’t had a lot to deal with recently, I just thought it’d be nice for you to be able to relax from that a bit, just for one night.”

As Ginny spoke Hermione’s thoughts turned involuntary to Harry and in reaction to it she grabbed the open bottle off Ginny and took a large swig, choking slightly on the bubbles and setting off Ginny into another fit of giggles.

“Looks like I’ve persuaded you then!” she gasped and set Hermione off as well. They were soon swigging away from the first bottle whilst putting the finishing touches to their looks.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry fidgeted nervously in the boy’s dormitory, not sure if what he had on looked right. He never usually thought about these things so much, but with his current feelings towards Hermione he felt this time it really mattered, as if he didn’t want to offend her anymore by wearing a clashing outfit.

“Mate what’s got into you?” Ron said coming back into the dorm and finding Harry in the same position as when he had left him in, in front of the mirror scowling at his reflection.

Harry ignored him and continued fiddling with the open collar of the jet black shirt he wore over some baggy jeans.

Ron sighed and going for Plan B passed Harry a butterbeer, taking a swig from his own as he did so.

Harry took the drink gratefully, taking a long drink from it in an attempt to calm his nerves.

“OK,” he said eventually to a bored Ron, “let’s go,”

“Finally.” Ron muttered, practically skipping out of the room, grabbing another couple of beers for them from his private stash under his bed and handing one to Harry, who again took a long drink before following Ron out of the room. Giving the common a thorough search with his eyes as he descended the staircase, Harry spotted Hermione sat in a corner of girls, all of whom were laughing and giggling. Harry was surprised to see Hermione joining in; in fact she seemed the centre of the humour. Frowning slightly and resisting the urge to go over and see what was so funny, he turned his attention away and went to join Ron with the twins by the fire.

Half an hour into the party everyone was having a great time, Harry’s group kept on being accosted by various young ladies wanting to congratulate their Quidditch heroes and the boys obliged happily lapping up the attention – and the butterbeers the girls bought with them.

As the last group of girls moved away, George nodded approvingly.

“Gryfinndor girls are definitely the finest of the lot,” he said, obviously eyeing up a girls bum as she walked past.

The other lads laughed cheekily, enjoying the banter.

At that moment Harry turned to see Hermione walking towards him. He gulped as he realised how she looked. Her tight jeans showed off her long legs and curved hips beautifully, while the tight white top she wore clung to the rest of her hourglass figure. Her facial features were softer than he had seen them in days, the tension eased by alcohol giving her eyes a cheeky sparkle and smoothing her previously constant frown.

“George, honey,” Hermione began, looking at the twin blinking her eyelashes for maximum effect, “us girls were wondering if you could possibly grab us another couple of bottles of that wondrous wine you found?!” she asked with a big grin on her face.

Harry thought he had never seen her look so beautiful and he wanted nothing more than for Hermione to look at him the way she was looking at George, and for her to bat her eyelashes at Harry like that.

George, however, seemed unaffected by Hermione’s wiles and just laughed at her saying

“Are you sure you haven’t had enough Hermione?!” with a grin on his face.

Hermione pouted at this and put on her puppy dog eyes for Georges benefit, “pleeease?” she begged, causing George to roll his eyes and get to his feet.

“Alright, alright, if I refuse you I’m only going to be on the end of a bat bogey hex from Ginny, I’ll go now.”

Hermione’s face lit up and she grinned her thanks before turning back to her friends.

Before she had reached them all Harry swiftly got to her feet and stopped her a few steps away, grabbing her arm.

Hermione turned back with a smile o her face expecting to be confronted with another joke from George. The smile slid off her face as she tried to pull away from Harry.

“Please Hermione, let me just talk to you.” Harry begged in a quiet voice, not wanting to attract attention.

“Not now Harry,” Hermione said, finally succeeding in pulling her arm away.

Harry was torn as to whether to pursue her further but retreated back to the sofa by Ron, collapsing down with a glum look on his face.

“Ahhh c’mon Harry cheer up man!” Ron said blearily looking over at Harry’s forlorn expression.

Harry said nothing. Hermione as looking breathtaking and she wouldn’t even talk to him, she had pulled from his touch as if burned. Suddenly this party wasn’t much fun at all.

Harry got to his feet mumbling to Ron something about getting some fresh air. Hoping to relax once out of close proximity with Hermione, Harry headed for the door. As he stepped out of the portrait hole Harry breathed a sigh of relief before catching it halfway out.

There, right in front of him, wine bottles in hand, was George Weasley. And there, lips engaged with his, was Hermione.

Hey, it’s been a LONG time coming but hopefully some of the old readers will stick with it, and maybe some new readers too!

Disclaimer: J.K. is the genius, Harry and co. are hers.

Niffling

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Hermione groaned as she drifted back into consciousness.

What had she drunk last night? On second thoughts, lets not go there she told herself as her stomach did a turn at the thought of alcohol.

“Oooh is she awake?!” a gleeful voice shrieked, piercing Hermione’s sore head.

“There’s no use hiding Hermione, out you come!” another equally jovial voice chimed in.

Realising there was no escape, Hermione forced herself upright and pulling open the curtains on her four poster bed.

“Well, well, well,” Parvati and Lavender chorused, huddling on one of their beds opposite and looking across at Hermione as though they were some sort of judging panel. “Aren’t you quite the little devil?!”

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked somewhat blearily above the giggles.

“Oh come off it, we know!” Lavender said tipping Hermione a heavy wink.

“That’s great Lavender, but what exactly is it you think you know today?” Hermione replied, a slight hint of snappiness entering her voice at Lavenders all knowing smile.

Parvati rolled her eyes theatrically and in an unnecessary stage whispered uttered a single word: “George!”

“What about George?” Hermione began to ask, but half way through the question images flooded through her mind. She’d asked him to get more wine hadn’t she? Yes well that was perfectly acceptable, it was a party after all, although she was regretting it now but still hopefully in a handy potions time she’d be feeling much better. But there was something else wasn’t there, the look on the other girls’ faces told her so.

She’d been upset because of Harry, his touch on her skin and deep eyes looking into hers had seemed to look through the flippant fun she was having and crave something deeper. She knew that one though, and the only place it went was more pain so she’d pulled away, forced herself to break contact. Suddenly it had seemed too hot in the common room and she had decided to slip away for some air. It was all coming back to her now, tripping through the portrait hole, and nearly falling right into someone.

She was upset and George had got her the wine, and at the time it had seemed so, so sweet of him, in comparison to the way Harry had dropped her this simple act of kindness seemed suddenly very special to the drink addled Hermione.

She’d only meant to say thank you, but her trip had landed her right against George’s chest, and now they stood so close, so that when George smiled down at her, “don’t worry, I caught you,” Hermione’s vulnerable mind took it as an act of heroism, and she did the only typical thing a damsel in distress could do.

“I kissed him…” It was barely more than a whisper but to Hermione it was the deafening truth.

She collapsed backwards onto her bed as Parvati and Lavender collapsed into fits of giggles opposite her.

“Ooh to hear it from the horses mouth gives such satisfaction!” Lavender finally declared smugly.

“Well how did you know?” Hermione asked in her dazed state.

“He told us,” Parvati explained gently, causing Hermione to groan with embarrassment.

“Oh Merlin, what did he say?” she enquired tentatively, not sure if she wanted to know the answer.

“He was very nice about it don’t worry,” Parvati reassured Hermione as Lavender broke into fresh fits of laughter. “He said you’d had too much drink and could we please get you to bed, and to let you know not to worry he knows you were drunk and he won’t hold you responsible for corrupting his innocence… or something like that. So with that I think we’ll leave you to it, we’re going to Hogsmeade but wanted to get the goss first!”

“But, does anyone else know about… it?” Hermione asked, blushing.

“Don’t worry Hermione, we’ve already been warned by George not to spread it around, as if we would anyway!” Lavender replied in mock outrage.

“Seriously Lavender –”

“I know, I know, brownies honour. I don’t see why you don’t want anyone knowing though it’s not exactly a crime to have some fun! But don’t worry our lips are sealed, if a bit grudgingly…” Lavender added, seeing the look on Hermione’s worried face.

As the other girls left the dormitory Hermione made herself comfortable again and tried not to make her head hurt more by strenuous thinking. At least no one knew what an idiot she’d been, she consoled herself. But it wasn’t about that, the other part of her argued. Why did you do it? She thought to herself angrily. One minute telling one guy you love him and the next kissing someone else! Not that it made any difference with Harry what she did with anyone else, she had no chance with him anyway, he’d made that perfectly clear.

Harry… she tried to block him from her mind, clearing her head for the sleep she desperately needed.

Harry… those eyes looking into hers. “Please Hermione, let me just talk to you…” Hermione physically shook herself and opened her eyes wide to rid her of the image of him. As they fluttered closed again, her mind began to wander, drifting towards sleep. Harry… his face, drained of colour, eyes showing the pain within, staring at her in disbelief for a split second as George pulled away from her. Then gone, a blink and his back was turned, lost in the crowd back inside the party before George had even noticed him.

Hermione’s eyes shot open.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry had finally succeeded in drawing Ron into a game of Wizards chess to take his mind of things, only to have Ron pester him every few minutes when he moved one of the wrong pieces.

“Harry, seriously, listen to me.”

Harry broke out of his reverie and looked into the earnest expression on his best friends face.

“You are playing white. And you’re technique is something that rhymes with that, not too put too fine a point on it!” Ron slumped back in his chair and put his hand over his eyes. “Why did you force me into this game when I would have been much better off in bed? Hmm? Is that the act of a good friend? I think not Harry! I think not.”

“Alright, alright,” Harry mumbled, making a hasty manoeuvre with a white pawn and ignoring the general chorus of insults the move gained him from the chess pieces.

Ron didn’t even bother to try and explain what a ridiculous mistake Harry was making, and made his move before spending the next ten minutes attempting to doze in his chair.

All Harry could think about was those damn lips of hers. It was like his memory had zoomed in on that particular feature and he played the moment over and over again in his head in slow motion. Last night he had removed himself from the party as promptly as he could after bumping into Hermione and George.

He’d thought to himself, “bitch”, and then spent the rest of the night hating himself for it. Hermione was not a bitch; she was a kind, intelligent, funny, and - standing out most in his mind at the moment – beautiful – girl. Perhaps he shouldn’t have tried talking to her last night, but she looked so stunning he couldn’t help it. The thing was though, now that he’d seen her looking so blatantly drop dead gorgeous it just seemed to highlight to him how beautiful she was the rest of the time.

And just as he imagined her, there she appeared. She was pale, her eyes with heavy bags under them looking almost bruised. She’d flung on an old Quidditch shirt of his that nearly reached her knees and she descended the stairs one at a time, with a dazed look upon her face.

Harry just saw her beauty. Her hair was unbrushed, bushy and wild from the previous nights sleep. Her dark eyes stood out starkly from her pale skin, and the haunted lost look in her eyes made him just want to hold her, tell her everything was going to be alright…

“Hey Hermione,” Ron muttered, waking from his nap. She hadn’t noticed them until then and hers eyes shot up, meeting Harry’s before darting to Ron’s.

“Hey…” she said softly, trailing her way slowly to them. Ron was sprawled on the chair whilst Harry claimed half of a sofa, a typical set up for the three of them to share.

As Hermione hovered and Harry fiddled with a chess piece Ron eventually asked, “Well are you going to sit down?” as if he were talking to a three year old.

Shooting him a scathing look Hermione collapsed in the space next to Harry, gratefully sinking into its comforting support.

The groan that escaped Hermione’s lips as she got comfortable made the hairs on the back of Harry’s neck stand up, reminded him of times he’d heard a very similar noise from her. He tried to keep his mind from it but she was obviously painfully aware of how close they were, and though she closed her eyes as if to doze she frequently snapped them open again to look at him, thinking he was absorbed in the chess. He couldn’t have been any less absorbed and eventually turned to look at her when he noticed her eyes open at the edge of his vision.

Hermione was unprepared for the emotions that she saw flit across Harry’s eyes. As he flicked his eyes to meet hers they shone with hatred, which melted into a pain so obvious and heartfelt that Hermione knew he’d seen, and knew how much it had hurt him. Guilt rose up in her and she felt ashamed of what she had done, how she had hurt her best friend. But he didn’t feel guilty, did he? A little voice inside her head said. He hurt you first. If he’d wanted it to be him kissing you last night he would have done something by now.

And with that thought in mind, Hermione got up and walked away.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“This is ridiculous!” Hermione shouted aloud, causing the giant squid to retreat back under the surface of the lake she was sat by.

Escaping Harry’s accusatory look she’d gone on a long walk around the castle grounds, and her thoughts had been going round in circles for several hours. If Harry didn’t care, why did he look so hurt? If Harry did care, why didn’t he do something about it? Why did she care? Why had she kissed George? What kind of idiot was she turning into? Harry wouldn’t ever want to be with an idiot. But Harry wouldn’t ever want to be with her anyway… and on it went, not helping at all.

Hermione felt terrible about kissing George, it was so unlike her. Just because you can’t have the guy you want doesn’t mean you should throw yourself at the next available person, she scolded herself. She felt dirty and cheap. She reasoned with herself that it wasn’t exactly the sluttiest thing anyone had ever done, after all, she knew George and cared about him, she was very drunk, and it was only a kiss. But it was a kiss that wasn’t shared with Harry, and for Hermione that made all the difference.

She had to stop this. Even if Harry didn’t care who she kissed in her spare time, Hermione did, and she wasn’t going to sacrifice her morals just because of one guy. She wasn’t the kind of girl who randomly kissed someone different each week, so she wasn’t going to do it. And it was time she gave up her childish fantasy of her and Harry together.

Taking a deep breath she let it out slowly, and stood up to go back inside. She suddenly ducked behind a tree at the edge of the lake, as she spotted an all too familiar figure exiting the castle.

Real mature, Hermione, she smirked to herself, she was off to a good start on being sensible and mature if the first time she saw him she hid behind a tree like a little girl. One step at a time though, she thought to herself – she’d only just decided to try and put it behind her, it was probably a bit soon to expect her feelings to disappear.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Harry strolled aimlessly, eyes downcast, hands in pockets, and unknowingly observed by Hermione.

Hermione… the last thing he’d been expecting last night was to see her kissing someone else, but now that he had, what did it mean? The problem was, Harry sighed to himself deeply, was that for this sort of thing you needed a girl to explain, and the only girl he would normally have asked, was the subject of the question.

She’d obviously moved on. Decided she’d waited long enough for Harry to get his act together and given up. He’d well and truly blown it, even Ron (had he known the situation) would have found it hard to stand up for Harry’s actions now.

Harry irritably kicked a loose stone in the grass as hard as he could in frustration: why had he been such an idiot?

“Ow! Thanks a lot, Harry.” A reproachful tone greeted Harry’s ears, and looking up he saw Ginny rubbing her leg with the offending stone by her foot.

“Sorry, Ginny, did it hit you?”

“Yes, thank you very much, it did.” Ginnys tone softened as se saw the dejected look in Harry’s eyes. “What’s up Harry?” she asked softly.

The only person who had a vague idea of what an idiot Harry had been, and she was a girl. Genius.

“Ginny, brilliant!”

“Well its nice to know someone’s happy to see me!” Ginny smiled playfully. “What is it?”

Ten minutes later Harry had explained what he’d seen the previous night and the conclusions he’d drawn from it.

“Hermione kissed George?” asked Ginny, dumbfounded. “Hermione kissed my brother?”

“Oh yeah… I didn’t think about the whole brother thing there… sorry…” Harry realised his mistake too late.

“I’m not bothered by it,” Ginny assured Harry quickly, only for him to reply snappily, “Well I am!”

“Right, right. But Harry you can’t seriously think it means anything!”

“What do you mean?”

“Well it was obviously just a mistake! A rebound action. And she was absolutely out of it last night, she probably didn’t even know what she was doing.”

“Yeah, yeah, Gin, we’ve all heard that one before, “I was drunk - it was a mistake” it’s no excuse!”

“No excuse for what, exactly Harry?” Ginny queried. “For cheating on someone? No, it’s not an excuse for that. But Hermione hasn’t cheated on anyone, has she? Because someone wouldn’t start a relationship with her to be cheated on!”

“Well... yes, I mean, no it’s not… but for good reasons!” Harry eventually concluded.

“What, that You Know Who might hurt her? Well that all sounds very chivalrous Harry, but you must realised it actually doesn’t make a damn bit of difference!” Ginny said in exasperation.

“What do you mean? Of course it does, there’s a whole list of victims which should count as enough bloody proof!” Harry shouted angrily, hurt by Ginny’s flippancy towards the lost lives of his loved ones.

After a few moments Ginny gingerly said, “That’s not what I meant Harry. I can see why you’re scared; I know you’ve lost people who are close to you. But… it really doesn’t make a difference, Harry. Hermione’s close to you anyway. Unless you were thinking of cutting her out completely, not even being her friend anymore, You Know Who will always know you care about her. He could use her just as easily as bait or to cause you pain even if there was nothing more than friendship. So you see, in that way, it doesn’t make a difference at all really. That’s all I meant.”

Harry did see. It had been hard enough trying to stop anything more than friendship develop between himself and Hermione, he knew for sure that he wouldn’t ever be able to cut her out of his life enough to ensure her safety from Voldemort. And even if he did, Hermione would always be in danger anyway because she would never join the death eaters.

“Thank you, Ginny.” He said eventually, layering the words with meaning.

“Anytime, Harry.” Ginny smiled back at him. “Oh look, there’s the lady herself!” Ginny said pointing to Hermione’s back as she headed towards the castle. “Why don’t you go and talk to her now, Harry?” Ginny nudged Harry.

“Yeah… yeah maybe I will. Now’s as good a time as any right?”

“It sure is Harry, go on!” Ginny replied, giving him a little push in the right direction.

“How do I look?” he asked nervously, looking down at himself and self consciously trying to flatten his hair.

“Gorgeous, darling! Now GO!” Ginny laughed, and off Harry set, to find Hermione, and explain everything.