“This is where you’ll be sleeping,” said Hermione, opening a door that led into a fairly large room with a double bed.
“It looks great,” Harry cried.
Hermione turned to him.
“We have a pool and a Jacuzzi too, if you want to go for an early-morning swim,” she gabbled.
“Great,” Harry nodded slowly.
He looked Hermione in the eye for a few seconds and suddenly realized how beautiful she was. The sun was shining in through the window, turning her hair a gorgeous golden brown. He felt an insane urge to reach out and stroke it.
“Been in touch with Ron lately?” asked Hermione.
“No. Haven’t heard a thing from him at all so far this summer,” Harry replied.
“Oh,” Hermione sounded surprised. Ron had obviously been writing to her. He wondered whether Ron had romantic feelings for her. Anger crept through him. Well, he would show Hermione that he too could be romantic toward her.
He leant in towards her and gave her a kiss on the cheek.
She went red and pushed him away and said, “Harry!” in a strangled voice.
“I was just saying thanks!” Harry snapped defensively.
“Harry, we’re friends, no more, no less,” said Hermione firmly. "No go ahead and get unpacked. I'll see you downstairs in a bit." And she turned and left his room.
Why did I do that? Harry thought, angry at himself. Now I've messed up my chances with her ...
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What the hell did I say that for? Hermione told herself off as she came out of Harry's bedroom. I've messed up our chances of ever going out now.
Hermione was head over heels in love with Harry, and wished that he felt the same way. She knew he liked Cho, though. And let’s face it, Hermione thought, Cho is a lot prettier than I am, and has a lot more to offer someone cool like Harry. Even so, Hermione was determined to make Harry fall in love with her this summer holiday.
But how on earth was she going to make him fall in love with her if she just ran away from him the whole time? Really, she was being quite stupid.
Hermione had loved Harry since the first moment she saw him, six years ago, on the Hogwarts Express. She hadn’t liked Ron much; she thought he was too obsessed with food. But Harry seemed like a deep, caring, sensitive person -- the one for her.
She stared over at the closed door of Harry’s bedroom and longed to rush in and ask for another kiss on the cheek from him. She had loved his kissing her, she really had.
At that precise moment Harry came out.
“Hermione!” he said in surprise. “I didn’t expect -- to, um see you right here! I was just, um, going to, er, apologise to you,” he murmured bashfully.
“For what?” Hermione frowned.
“For kissing you on the cheek. I shouldn’t have. You were right, we are just friends. We’re such platonic friends that I don’t think we could ever be more.”
Hermione’s heart sunk. Yes, Harry was right. They were platonic friends, never to be more.
“It’s fine, Harry,” her voice quivered. She felt like she was going to cry.
“Have to go,” she squeaked, and ran off to her own bedroom. She flung herself on to her bed and wept. How stupid she was to think Harry would ever go out with her! He only saw her as a friend and nothing more.
Then, an unexpected letter came.