confusing by ayumi-nb

Rating: PG13
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 15/02/2014
Last Updated: 15/02/2014
Status: Completed

[ootp au] He certainly was clueless when it came to girls, but Harry knew he was well-versed in
everything related to Hermione. At least, he hoped so.




1. confusing
------------



Sooo, yeah. Happy Valentine's Day!! Hope you all have spent it with your loved one, I did,
and enjoyed yourselves.

Okay, that being said. I haven't posted anything since forever, and this came up while I was
thinking how different would the Harry/Cho kiss be if there had been some mutual interest between
Harry and Hermione. You know, non-platonic interest. How would Hermione react to it, and how would
Harry react to her reaction and to the fact that she's writing letter to another boy. And this
came up.

So, I guess, I tried to pin-point the exact moment for when they can become interested (even if
I believe Hermione was always interested), to give the story more of a plot, and thought of the
kiss at the end of GoF.

This is a oneshot, a short one at that, so there's not much explained, but I hope it makes
enough sense to be enjoyable. Also, everyone stays likable in this!

Well, as likable as they could possibly be considering their personalities and usual reaction to
certain situations.

.

**“****confusing****”**

**(ootp au // He certainly was clueless when it came to girls, but Harry knew he was
well-versed in everything related to Hermione. At least, he hoped so.)**

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

As a 15 years old teenage male, he honestly believed that girls were created for the sole
purpose of punishing unsuspecting males with their confusing and bewildering personalities; leaving
them to ponder what they did wrong even when they said or did *nothing* at all.

Take Cho Chang, for example. She seemed pretty enamoured with Cedric last year, even when she
expressed regret at having to refuse his invite to the Yule Ball, it wasn't the kind of regret
that showed she wanted to go with *him* but wouldn't because of already giving her word to
go with another boy. She had looked pretty happy in Cedric's arms all through that night, he
*ought* to know, he watched them; and then the rest of the year, rumours of their relationship
abounded the Castle.

This year, however, granted if it hadn't been pointed out at him he'd never had noticed,
she seemed pretty much interested in *him* and—well, Harry just didn't know! If she had
shown this interest last year, then yeah, he would've been all for it, but… but…

But there was Hermione to consider now.

His best friend Hermione, that until the Yule Ball was kind of asexual and then turned into a
very pretty girl that was his very best friend and he tried very hard not to think un-platonic
thoughts about her. His very pretty, very *female* best friend that sent all his resolutions
of keeping her in the OFF LIMITS section of his brain to Hell when she kissed his cheek at the end
of Fourth Year; not a earth-shattering thing, but the kiss definitely lasted at least three seconds
too much than what was considered appropriate between friends. He was sure. He counted.

Harry would think that the isolation during the summer would kill the tentative thoughts that
began to creep into his mind, the kind of thoughts about Hermione that were more-than-friendly. And
it did. Kind of. For a while.

But the memory of her kiss was definitely the one bright spot in his depressed, isolated
summer.

And when he arrived at Grimmauld Place, Sirius had been quick to grab him and advise him to ask
his friends about the letters they *sent* over the month apart. Which, feeling really
confused, he did, and was pleasantly surprised when Hermione dashed to her room and returned
seconds later with a stack of envelopes—letters from her that *weren't* sent, and gave
them to him along with a brief explanation of why she hadn't sent them.

She'd looked so hesitant and scared that Harry couldn't help but smile a little and
forgive her on the spot, which was great because he was rewarded with another of her enthusiastic
hugs. He'd forgiven Ron, too, simply because he really hadn't expected his red-haired
friend to go against his mother's, and Dumbledore's, orders.

If his anger at Dumbledore had been fleeting, it certainly wasn't when he wasn't awarded
the Prefects position. Not that he had *expected* it, but—really, Ron? Not to belittle his
friend or anything but, *honestly*. His inner reaction was echoed when Hermione had, maybe
unthinkingly, but rather loudly, proclaimed Harry deserved the position, that it was the obvious
choice. And it was echoed again by Ron's brothers, the twins. Ginny didn't say anything,
but it was obvious she agreed with the general opinion, though preferred to remain silent.

Hermione's support after that, fuelled no doubt by her worry at the obvious slight on his
behalf, was not helpful to his resolve of keeping her as just-a-friend in his mind. Nope. She went
right out of that place to an unknown, Hermione-only place in his head, where non-platonic thoughts
were more than *okay*, if his hormone-fuelled fantasies were anything to go by. *(The fact,
that she suggested that he used his Cloak to accompany her on her Prefect rounds, will remain a
secret he would take to the grave and beyond; not only because she suggested something that
blatantly broke the rules, but also because the name of their mutual friend did not come up with
she issued this unofficial invite.)*

You see, all this little acts of support from her and his subsequent acts of gratitude made them
grow closer during summer. To the delight of some, and not so much of others. And when the year
started, catastrophically so, he couldn't really deny her hugs and comforting kisses on the
cheek, he'd needed them because, *hey*, the Ministry had sent someone specifically to make
his life a living hell! Torture included! Ron was not exactly happy about it, but kept unusually
quiet *(and later, Hermione would tell him why, that she'd had a talk with him that explained
a few facts of life, and some truth**s* *their friend didn't want to admit
to)*.

So, obviously, Harry started to see Hermione in a different, more *interesting* light.
Thus, *obviously*, after the DA was formed, and he came into contact with Cho again, things
turned bloody well confusing.

Mainly because *Hermione* pointed out that the pretty Chinese Ravenclaw seemed interested
in him, when he'd been sure *she* was also interested in him.

And things remained confusing until a few days before Christmas break. Then all became very,
very clear.

**~**

Harry thought, as he watched their little *study* group prepare to leave, that maybe he
should simply renounce girls. But then, he remembered all those lovely bits that girls had and that
boys *didn't* have, and how very cute they were when happy and how much he liked to be
hugged by a happy girl who unwittingly pressed all those aforementioned lovely bits into him
and—well. His idea of renouncing them kind of dwindled and died then.

Of course, the fact that, so far, *Hermione* was the only one pressing her lovely bits into
him was great giving that, well, he *fancied* her now, kind of. And even when he was pretty
sure he didn't want other girls pressing her bits into him, when Cho's interest was pointed
out to him, he remembered all those feelings he got last year when in her presence and how nervous
and panicky he felt, and the thought that she wanted, you know, *hug* him now, maybe
*more*, left him slightly dizzy and anxious.

It was all so confusing, because he knew he fancied Cho the year before, and those feeling were
the ones he associated with, well, fancying girls and all, but he didn't feel like that with
Hermione. Sort of. Maybe. Okay, yeah, he felt slightly dizzy when she smiled at him, or hugged him,
or kissed his cheek *(and boy, she'd been kissing his cheek a lot lately)*; there was also
this tingly feeling coursing through his body and something like a buzz in the back of his head.
Nothing panic-inducing like when Cho got too close. But still.

He'd tried to talk to Ron about it, but his friend was still kind of miffed with him, for
all the attention he was getting from pretty girls, even though he didn't ask for it
*(though, he suspects it has to do more with Hermione than any other girl)*, and he really
wasn't much help when eventually tried to give some advice. Being as clueless about females as
he was.

Sirius, though, had been helpful. But his reply to his desperate letter left him just as, if not
*more*, confused.

Because according to his Godfather, feeling what he felt around Cho was normal, every boy felt
like that when close to a girl he fancied, and assured him it would eventually go away as he got to
know Cho and spend time with her if they ever started dating. Now, his explanation to what he felt
around Hermione was less than helpful. Sirius claimed it was also normal when a boy was close to
*the* girl he *fancied*, and that, if the relationship grew into something more, those
feeling would never really go away, but he'd get used to them, he would grow to like them.

See? Much too confusing for an unsuspecting boy such as Harry, who had had no real education in
the way of social interaction other than what he'd seen while growing up. And certainly no
instruction on how to handle girls without making an arse out of himself.

He needed to talk to someone who could really help him, and usually Hermione was that someone.
But now it wasn't possible, even worse, she was sending him all these… these *mixed
signals*—it was driving him absolutely *mental*. Sometimes he'd be so *sure* she
returned his feeling what with all the hugging and kissing-on-the-cheek and smiling, only for her
to do a complete one-eighty and say or do something that clearly showed there were not returning of
feelings on her part and that she only saw him as a friend.

Take the issue with Cho, as proof of that. They'd been planning the next lesson for the DA,
and somehow they had ended up sitting really close to each other, so close they were one step away
from openly cuddling, when she'd gone and said how Cho seemed to be *interested* in him
with this smug smile as if she had been expecting it.

Shaking his head to clear it of the constant confusion that followed him everywhere now, Harry
looked up to see most of the member of the DA had gone back to their Common Rooms. The only ones
left where Cho and some of her friends and Hermione and the Weasleys. He walked to the board
they'd been using as a sort of memento-holder, where pictures of the former Order members and
Cedric and victims of this new War were tapped to it.

He watched Cedric for a moment, feeling the guilt crawling into his mind, before quickly turning
to the smiling faces of the Order. His parents, Sirius and Remus all smiling and waving at him.

So focused on the picture, Harry didn't heard her approach him until she tapped his
shoulder. Spinning around, he came face to face with Cho, and couldn't really help the blush
that assaulted his cheeks, nor the anxious and panicky feeling that engulfed him. The only thing
preventing him from stuttering like a fool was the knowledge that his reaction to the pretty
Ravenclaw was normal.

Over her shoulder, he caught sight of her giggling friends before they left. The twins left
after them, grinning at him and giving him a double thumbs-up. Ron didn't spare a glance his
way, obviously miffed by something, and Ginny followed her brother looking much the same as him.
Hermione stopped at the door, facing away from him.

He was about to call out to her, but then heard Cho talking, and thought it would be rude to
dismiss her just like that. He spared a glance at the girl in front of him, but Cho was looking at
Cedric's picture, and the startling thought that the pretty Chinese girl only wanted to get
close to him for Cedric came unbidden. It made sense, though. Of course, why else would she be
interested in him, if not to somehow feel closer to her dead boyfriend?

Cho looked at him, still talking, wondering, but not outright asking him, if Cedric mentioned
her before he died. Harry gave her a little smile, not really wanting to talk about that night,
about Cedric, so he made a noncommittal sound and looked past her shoulder again.

And found Hermione looking at him over her shoulder, frowning… oddly. He felt a light touch on
his chin but his focus was elsewhere, so he paid it no mind. There was a flash of sadness in her
eyes before she turned and left but before he could so much as move, Cho obscured his view of the
closing door and pressed her lips against his.

He froze up. A second later, he jumped away from her, *literally*, and stared at her with
what was surely a bewildered expression.

“Harry…?”

He felt the panic set in, his anxiousness rocketing up alarmingly and he'd be damn sure to
write a note to Sirius telling him he was *wrong*. There was nothing normal in feeling like
*this*. Like he might throw up due to overwhelmed nerves, like he was hyperventilating—like he
just committed the ultimate betrayal.

Nauseous, he was physically nauseous.

The kiss, brief as it was, was nothing of what everyone bragged about. It didn't felt
pleasant, or even fine. It felt wrong, it felt awkward. It felt wet. And belatedly, as Cho called
his name again, he realized why.

She was crying.

And, he wished she was Hermione.

**~**

Risking the wrath of a girl was not something he ever wanted to do. But given the current
circumstances, it was his only choice.

Faster than he'd ever been in his life, he grabbed his bag and outer robes and dashed out of
the RoR, hoping to avoid Umbridge and cohorts and any other unwanted individual as he ran towards
Gryffindor Tower. Luck seemed to be on his side all the way there, until he crossed the portrait
hole.

And stumbled upon his arguing friends.

They both turned to him at once, Hermione showing a blank expression while Ron could barely hide
his glee.

The youngest Weasley boy broke the tense silence. “So, did you kiss?”

Harry blinked, and blanched, and although he was pretty sure all the colour drained from his
face, his cheeks felt impossibly hot. That gave him away.

Ron smirked.

But Hermione deadpanned the obvious answer, before going back to her writing. “You did.”

Something in her tone made him desperate to deny such statement. “I didn't!”

She tensed, but didn't turn around. Ron raised his eyebrows before frowning deeply.

Weakly, he muttered the rest of his defence. “She kissed me.”

Hermione's shoulders dropped in defeat, but she said nothing and kept writing. Probably
letters for Krum, thought Harry darkly, because there were no books in sight.

Ron's laughter didn't help him one bit. “Same thing, mate! You still kissed, so good for
you! Now, tell me, how was it?”

He ignored him, walking around the couch were Ron was sitting to kneel next to Hermione on the
floor. He tried to catch her eye, but she refused, turning to face the fireplace when he got close.
“I didn't kiss her back, Hermione. It was barely a kiss, I pulled away!”

“It's okay, Harry. I don't need you to explain anything. It's… it's not like I…
fancy you or…”

Somehow, that made him inexplicably angry. And it showed pretty damn fast.

“No, it's not like you do, do you?”

That made her look at him, not the words but certainly the cold tone of his voice. Even Ron,
Harry could see, was shocked by it.

“Wu—what?”

He could stop, but a quick glance at the sheets of paper showed she *was* writing to Krum.
That, and all the confusion he'd felt around her lately reared its ugly head in that
moment.

“Never mind how affectionate you've been this year, yeah? I mean, obviously, that was just a
show of friendship, right? I was just the lucky *friend* that just happened to be on the
receiving end of all the hugs and kissed and smiles. Why the bloody hell would I *think* you
might feel more than—ugh!” He stood up and stalked away, trying to calm down because he really
didn't want to fall into Ron's category when arguing with Hermione. He didn't want to
hurt her. “God, just—I obviously misunderstood all the bloody signals!”

“Signals!” Hermione, he noticed, had not been far behind him, and was now invading his personal
space while trying to keep from backing down. “You're one to talk! What with all those sweet
compliments and encouraging words and acceptance! You never complained when I hugged you or kissed
your cheek and don't you dare deny it, Harry James Potter, because you were enjoying it! You
kept being all cute and—and adorable and—”

“I didn't send any signals!”

“That's the bloody point! You stand there, accusing me of confusing you, when you're
doing the same!”

Harry blushed, in anger or at being caught sniffing around her skirt, he didn't know, but
feeling he had to defend himself. “I've done no such thing! It's you and your… your…
and—you pushed me into Cho!”

“I did not!”

“Yes, you did! If you haven't pointed out she was interested I would have gone on being
blissfully ignorant!” And probably would have focused more on you, he added mentally, wishing he
could find the words to end this pointless argument because all he wanted to do was hug her and
wipe that pained look on her face.

Hermione bit her trembling lips, probably gathering her wits before replying to his accusation.
“Well, I'm sorry, okay? I was only trying to—never mind! I don't even know why you care so
much if I fancy you or not, because it's not like you—”

She never got to finish her sentence. Because Harry, grabbing the back of her neck and pulling
her into him, effectively cut her rant by pressing their lips together.

He didn't close his eyes. He watched as Hermione stopped thinking for a brief second before
her eyes widened, as if just catching up on his actions. She frowned in confusion and the closed
her eyes tightly while her hand pressed into his shoulder. Harry thought she was going to push him
away, but her hands fisted on his jumper and she pulled him closer, banishing what little distance
remained between them. Sliding his other hand around her waist, not wanting to risk her to
reconsider and pull away, Harry secured his hold on her and gently, softened the pressure of his
lips on her.

Her response was delightful.

Hermione released all of her tension in a deep sigh, her whole demeanour softening as her body
moulded perfectly into his and her lips parted slightly, pliant, ready for him. And he answered in
kind, his eyes fluttered once, catching sigh of her blushed cheeks and happily relaxed expression,
before he lost the battle against his desire to properly kiss her. Parting his own lips, he
tentatively brushed them against her own, and the resulting sigh was everything he could ask
for.

The hand grasping her neck trailed down her back to join its twin around her waist, securing his
possessive hold of her. In response, she moved her hands around his shoulders, and parted her lips
further in obvious invitation.

Before, however, he could even think to go for it, a piercing screech cut through the hormonal
haze that surrounded them. Neither was inclined to break the embrace, and Harry finally understood
what Sirius meant when he said he'd grow used to feeling dizzy and tingly and buzzy. He became
aware of all of it, but rather liked it when Hermione was pressing all of her lovely bits into
him.

One glance at her, and he knew she felt the same, if not pretty close to what he was currently
feeling.

Their attention was drawn to all the ruckus near the stairs, they tuned to watch as the Weasley
twins were dragging a fuming Ron up to the dorms. The boys grinned at them when they caught their
eyes.

“Sorry about that—”

“—but we were trying to give you some privacy—”

“—and our brother dearest looked on the verge of exploding—”

“—and would have most likely interrupted you in a much too rude manner—”

“—so we thought to avoid that—”

“—by dragging him away silently—”

“—but he had to be his obnoxious self—”

“—and still ruin the moment.”

Harry blinked and nodded his thanks as the twins kept true to their words and dragged their
brother up to the dorms. His attention was swiftly pulled back to the girl in his arms when she
leaned forward and placed a kiss to his chin, and then made a slow trail until she reached his
lips.

They kissed, again. And again. And again. Softly, tenderly. Every caress ignited something
inside the green-eyed boy, but he didn't feel the urge to deepen the kisses. Not *now*
anyway, he was enjoying it all the same.

When they finally stopped, Harry pressed his forehead against hers. Hermione looked into his
eyes for several seconds before breaking the silence.

“You really didn't kissed her back?” She whispered quietly. “It was barely a kiss?”

“Yeah,” said Harry. “It… it wasn't even that pleasant. Just… it felt… off. Like—like I was
doing something wrong. Betraying someone.”

Hermione smiled weakly, but clearly relieved that he hadn't enjoyed his brief encounter with
Cho. “Oh? That bad?”

He had nothing to hide, really, he now knew what he wanted, who he wanted, for real. “She was
crying and…”

“And?”

“She wasn't you.”

“Oh.”

He smiled as she averted her eyes, a blush covering her face. After lapsing into a confortable
silence, Hermione gathered enough courage to look into his eyes.

“So, you… do you…?”

“Yeah,” said Harry, grinning happily. “And you?”

Hermione returned his grin and leaned closer, nuzzling his cheek. “Of course, Harry.”

The black-haired boy lifted her up a little, enough to move around with her in his arms, and
walked the few steps to the couch quickly, spinning around and letting himself fall back. Hermione
let out a soft squeal before giggling. Something that delighted Harry because this was the first
time Hermione let herself go enough to actually *giggle*.

Later, he would find the time to ask all those questions that'd been plaguing his mind since
summer break. All those things that proved that there were still aspect of Hermione that he knew
nothing about, even he had been pretty sure he knew her better than anyone. Later, he would inquire
about the letter to Krum *(and get an earful from his lovely best-friend-turned-girlfriend about
unnecessary jealousy and how there was never anyone else for her)*. Later, he would have to
explain his behaviour and they both will come to realize that certain things had been overlooked
out of confusion and fear *(his and hers)*.

Later.

Because now, Harry was content to cuddle, at last, and revel in the knowledge that this lovely
girl would be his for many years to come.

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

**end.**

.

If you find any typos, please let me know. I try to check my fics before posting them, but
something always gets past me.
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