Author's Note: I know leaving you hanging like that was mean, so I'll just launch right into the story, and save my note for the end of the chapter.
Disclaimer: my lawyer called and informed me that Harry Potter has been donated to me thanks to my work saving starving children. This is all true, except for the part where I have a lawyer, do lots of charity work, and the part about me getting Harry Potter as a reward for said kindness. Nor do I have any affiliation with George Eliot, Laurence Sterne, or the makers of either Sabrina film.
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Chapter 8: Think Really, Really Hard
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This is not That, and He was never You,
Though this and that are AYES, and you and he
Are like as one to one, or three to three.
-George Eliot, preface to Chapter 51 of Middlemarch
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"…maybe we should do something next weekend too."
"Sure. I don't know what Ron's schedule is like, but I'm sure we can-"
"No. Without Ron. Just us."
"You mean like a date?"
"I guess so, that is if you don't, or rather, I mean…yes."
"No, Harry."
Harry tried not to look dumbfounded. Granted, the decision to impulsively ask Hermione out had probably been a little influenced by the afternoon's drinks-but she'd just seemed to so happy being with him. Plus, he'd felt more content than he had in weeks. With that combination it was no wonder he just blurted it out.
They continued walking in an awkward silence, the expression on Hermione's face unreadable. After about a minute, Harry found his curiosity unbearable, and emboldened by his confusion, asked,
"Why?"
"Why what, Harry?" Hermione sounded tired, and more than a little sad.
"Why did you say no?"
"For a lot of reasons Harry."
"I don't understand."
"Because we're best mates, and like it or not, that has to change now. Because the only reason you even asked me is because you tried to keep up with Ron's drinking. Because you don't know what you want."
"But-"
"Harry, we're really close, I know that. And maybe I do like you a little more than I should. But I don't think you really know why you asked me, or even if you really like me. If I know you, you haven't even really thought about it that much-liking me. What's more, you probably only noticed that it was even possible to think of me like that because everyone else made it painfully obvious today, and having someone around like that again would be nice. After all, you haven't dated anyone since Ginny."
Hermione pronounced her hesitations like an incredibly strange list, with as little emotion as possible. Truthfully, she wanted nothing more than to simply agree to go on a date with him, and for a little while she could actually pretend Harry loved her, and didn't just want to love her because he was feeling lonely. Harry's inability to answer after this disheartening speech only seemed to confirm her suspicions, and her resolve crumbled a little upon noticing the dejected expression on his face.
"But…umm…think about it for a few days, Harry. Not just in passing, either. I mean, really think about it, and if you decide you still want this, ask me again. Being impulsive about my feelings is what nearly ruined my friendship with Ron, Harry, and I don't want to take that risk with you-you're too important."
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Ron had caught up to them at that point, and the conversation had been dropped in favor of teasing him and his new relationship (kindly, of course). If he'd noticed something was different between his best friends, Ron had wisely opted to keep his mouth shut.
Eerily, Hermione showed no acknowledgement of the prior weekend's conversation. True, most of her time was consumed by work (she was still uncannily enthusiastic about it), but even when it was just the two of them in the flat, she remained friendly and loyal and everything Harry appreciated about her. It had been four days since the Hogsmeade visit, and Harry was no closer to making a decision than he had been on that day.
For sure, he cared about her. A lot. She was his best friend, and had never failed to be there for him. Her nagging and motherly ways could irritate him, but those habits never actually bothered him to the point of conflict. When there was conflict, it was always about his safety, which was actually kind of touching. Yes, Harry Potter definitely loved and depended upon Hermione. But did he want more than her (admittedly, amazing as it was) friendship?
The question had dogged him for days, distracting him during Quidditch and even conversations. It had actually gotten to a point where his teammates had to rescue him from being hit by a Bludger headed straight at him.
Like right now.
"Blimey, Harry, keep your eyes open!" One of the Beaters shouted, and threw him a dirty look before chasing after the Bludger.
It was too late to apologize, so Harry simply flew higher, circling around looking for the Snitch. This wasn't an important match (just a scrimmage), but he shouldn't have been zoning out like this. Checking on the other Seeker (who wasn't making any progress either), he circled around once more, trying to stay focused on the task at hand-but the question was quick to return to the front of his mind.
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It was a miracle, really, that he even noticed the other Seeker had spotted the snitch, and another miracle that he was able to cut off the other guy and catch it himself. As he trudged to the showers, one of the other players - a Chaser named Tristram - pulled him aside.
"Nice catch, Potter."
"Thanks. It was luck mostly," Harry replied, and Tristram shrugged,
"A catch is a catch. Still, you have been off lately. Something bothering you?"
"Nothing, really," it was a little strange to have this conversation with Tristram, as the guy was totally `nutters' (as Ron would say). He was impulsive and imaginative, not to mention a bit of a compulsive liar. Sure, Harry liked the guy, probably more than his other teammates, but…
"If it's messing with out team's performance, you should take care of it before we start losing and the coach gets mad at you," Tristram replied, half playfully.
"Well, I always liked getting chewed out by Tertius," Harry replied dryly, and his friend rolled his eyes.
"Avoidance-that means it's a girl. Total distraction means you've got no idea what to do about it. And if you're confused, then she's either unavailable, or your friend."
"Don't be a prat, Tristram."
"Well, which is it? Because as much as I like a good tryst, you seem too noble for that sort of thing, and my advice would have to be no. If she's just your friend, just bloody ask her already, because you look pretty pathetic right now."
"It's not that simple," Harry snapped, and waved him off.
"If it's Hermione, propose and get it over with!" Tristram called after him, laughing as he ducked into the showers.
Harry did his best to ignore the input of his strange teammate, but this new information left him almost more distracted than before. Sure, the man was more than a little crazy, but his advice tended to be pretty solid.
But telling him to do something he'd already tried - and failed - wasn't as much help as Harry had hoped. According to Hermione, he had to be sure.
Then the idea came to him, and Harry laughed aloud at the fact that he hadn't thought of it before.
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Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes had just about everything these days-if you could make it funny, they would consider stocking it. At least, that's what Ron had told Harry. And as he wandered through the `Potions and Other Strange Liquids' section, Harry had to agree: the place was stockpiled with oddities and ghastly-looking potions.
He spotted the pearly liquid a little further down, and quickened his pace. Stopping in front of the shelf, his face fell-the stuff was bottled up behind a glass case, threatening boils to anyone who tried to get a sniff without buying.
"You don't need that stuff anyways, Harry."
Harry whipped out his wand, prepared to defend himself, before recognizing the speaker as George.
"No need to get feisty, now," George cautioned, a ghost of a smile on his face.
"Sorry. Old habits and all that…" Harry replied apologetically, replacing his wand.
"It's all right. But really, you don't need love potion. I'd imagine any girl you like would date you without it."
"It's nothing like that."
"Oh, you wanted to smell for your true love, then? Harry, it's all nonsense. The smell you like best changes with time; it doesn't tell you who to marry. You either like someone or you don't."
Harry remained silent. Slughorn had made it sound so very different.
"What? Is something different about my hair?" George asked, adding, "I told them to make sure my hole was extra visible this time, you know."
"No, no, it's nothing. Thanks George."
Harry practically sprinted out of the Diagon Alley shop-and not due to embarrassment.
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The day couldn't end fast enough. He tried to watch a little television, but nothing held his attention for longer than a commercial. Harry found himself wishing that he had some kind of hobby, but wishing didn't exactly help shorten the time.
In the end, he wandered down the market, and taking longer than necessary to purchase the groceries for the week, plus a few extra things he knew Hermione loved. On the stroll back, a little flower shop caught his eye, and he went inside-to waste a little more time, he told himself.
"Hello," the florist greeted with friendliness enough, and Harry smiled in acknowledgement. There were lots of huge arrangements with flowers in bright colors and strange shapes-and a few plants that looked like they belonged in Neville's personal collection.
"Do you need something in particular?" The woman asked, attempting to keep the concept of courtesy alive.
"I'm okay right now…" Harry trailed off. This was really quite silly. Buying flowers for a place setting was Hermione's job, and getting them expressly for her would only annoy her-not because she didn't like flowers, but because she didn't want any kind of grand gesture right now, especially from him. A bouquet of daffodils caught his eye briefly, but eventually his sense prevailed, and Harry snuck out of the store when the woman was taking a phone order.
He tried to ignore the clock as he unpacked his purchases-the clock only mocked him with its sluggish movement. Unfortunately, it moved all of ten minutes in that duration, and he was quickly getting desperate for things to do. Feeling more than a little lame, Harry found himself tidying up around the flat (except for Ron's room-too scary). Nothing major, of course: just everything short of moving any furniture and messing with the windows.
Twenty minutes until she got back. Give or take a minute, maybe thirty seconds. And now he was starting to sound just like her. Harry ran a hand through his hair, and sank onto the couch, defeated. He was going to drive himself mad if he didn't find a way to relax.
Fifteen minutes to go-Harry had sliced bread, rubbed garlic on it, and stuck it into the oven. Hermione had mentioned wanting to order in, but if he hadn't done something, there was no telling what would befall his mental status.
Ten minutes to go-the bread was burnt, and pitched into the rubbish bin. Apparently he wasn't so impatient as to remember to set a timer.
Five minutes left-if he kept keeping track of how much time was left, Ron was going to tease him into August.
The television was back on, with Harry rapidly changing the channels, when Hermione came through the front door. It took a ridiculously unnecessary amount of will power to keep Harry from running to greet her, and he settled for immediately stopping his channel changing (lest she think he was totally bored). Unfortunately, it stopped on a children's show.
"Aren't we a little old for cartoons? Honestly, Harry." Hermione sighed, though she looked happy to see him nonetheless.
"It was a commercial for that movie you wanted to see before," Harry lied, and Hermione only rolled her eyes.
"The only movie I want to see is the kind where we can order Indian food."
"Then start looking-there are a few we rented still out on the table. Do you want the usual stuff?"
"Yes, that's fine. Only, order half of what we usually get-Ron's staying at George's place tonight."
"Again?"
"It's not like Ron stays there all the time," Hermione defended, feeling slightly hurt. She had been looking forward to spending a little time with Harry, in spite of the fact she had just turned him down. After all, he was still her best friend. And even though he hadn't asked her again (and therefore didn't really want to be with her), she was determined to keep things as normal as possible.
"It'll be here in half an hour," Harry called from the kitchen, and Hermione studied the various movie cases.
"You and Ron rented the new Sabrina because…?" Hermione asked, eyebrows raised, as Harry returned.
Harry only shrugged. "Ron and I thought you'd appreciate any movie with Harrison Ford in it."
"It's got nothing on the original. But if you really want to watch it…" Hermione replied, smiling.
"It's your pick. Just don't get too caught up with your darling Harrison," Harry teased back, and Hermione colored a little.
They settled into the couch after Hermione put the tape in (Hermione curled up against the corner, Harry comfortably sprawled out in the middle), and as the commercials flashed across the screen, Harry looked up.
"Hey, Hermione?"
"Hmm…?"
"Never mind."
"Okay."
About twenty minutes into the movie, Harry got up to answer the door, and guessing by the smell wafting into the flat, Hermione was prepared for the Indian food when he returned. They ate in comfortable silence, watching the Larrabee brothers fall in love with the same woman.
Another twenty minutes later, Harry interrupted again (after making sure Harrison Ford was not on screen).
"Hermione?"
"Yes, Harry?"
"I thought about it."
"I figured."
"I still want this, Hermione."
"Shh, this is the good part," Hermione whispered, and turned back towards the TV screen. Harry noticed a goofy smile spreading across her face, and rearranged himself so that she was nestled between the cushions and his arm.
Hermione let out a small sigh of content, and Harry let her finish the movie in peace.
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End note: Yes, the character Tristram is based off of Laurence Sterne's Tristram Shandy, though mine is easily less insane, and a lot more focused. And I know the ending wasn't exactly passionately romantic, but there was something so endearing about having a simple beginning to their romance, that I couldn't help myself.
Remember, reviews make me happy!
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