Harry grabbed his towel and climbed out of the shower humming to himself. He had had a fantastic and hilarious birthday with Hermione – probably his best ever. Harry paused as he began to dry himself off.
He had got on so well with Hermione during the short time that he had spent with her – and he had kissed her. He enjoyed being with her much more than he did with Cho. He realised that the little voice inside of his head was right, that he was in love with Hermione.
He knew he had to write to Cho straight away, and explain the situation with Hermione. He knew she would be annoyed, but he didn’t care. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was Hermione.
He walked into his room. And froze.
Scattered all over the floor were all his letters. They looked as if they had been ripped into tiny pieces and thrown around the whole room.
Harry knelt down, heart sinking, wondering what kind of person would be as cruel enough to ruin all his letters.
He got dressed slowly, thinking over what had happened in his head, and picking out suspects. Crookshanks, he thought. Of course! This was exactly the thing that a cat would do! He decided to go and tell Hermione.
He knocked on the door to her bedroom, and walked in.
“You could have waited until I answered,” snapped Hermione. She was lying face down on her bed.
“Sorry. Hermione, are you alright?” Harry asked worriedly. He wondered if she had hurt herself and determined to cheer her up
“Apart from the fact that the person who I love and who I thought loved me back is cheating on me for a Ravenclaw, yes, I’m fine!” screamed Hermione, whirling round on her bed to face him. Tears were streaming down her cheeks.
Harry immediately understood. Hermione must have gone in to his room and seen his flirtatious letters to Cho.
“You saw the letters, didn’t you?” said Harry quietly.
“Yes!” hissed Hermione. “I thought we had something special, Harry!”
“So did I! I thought you trusted me!” Harry glared at her.
“I do! I did!” Hermione choked out.
“So why did you go nosing around in my room in the first place then?” Harry shot back.
Hermione flinched.
“Th-th-that’s not the point!” she stuttered. “The point is – we’re through! I can’t believe I ever liked you anyway! You’re a liar and a-a cheater! I hate you!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Harry watched her for what seemed like an age, and then walked out of the room. His shoulders were hunched, as if he was really upset.
Hermione found herself spitting at the spot where he had been standing.
“How dare he cheat on me!” she said aloud.
She crossed her arms across her chest, a little self-consciously. She felt deeply hurt and betrayed by Harry, not to mention emotionally scarred.
She hoped that this was all a bad dream and that she would wake up any minute now and run in to Harry’s room and tell him all about it.
She pinched herself and shut her eyes then opened them again. She was in the same position on her bed and the door to her bedroom was still open where Harry had left.
Hermione threw herself back on to her bed and groaned. She hated her life at the moment.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dinner was a silent affair. Harry and Hermione would not speak to each other and Mr. and Mrs. Granger didn’t dare make conversation. Something had obviously happened between them and if they started talking, it might annoy them immensely.
Harry kept on glancing up and looking at Hermione. One time, when her parents weren’t watching, she mouthed an extremely rude swear word to him.
Then, when Hermione was dishing up the pudding, she, “accidentally” flicked it on to his face.
“I thought he liked stuff on his face. He did yesterday,” she had shrugged to her fearful looking parents.
Also, throughout the whole meal, Harry found himself being kicked painfully on the ankle. He was sure his feet were now covered in bruises and he had a sneaking suspicion that the kicker was Hermione.
When they were dismissed from the table, Harry corned Hermione on the stairs. He pushed her against the wall.
“What the hell are you playing at?” He muttered furiously to her.
“Nothing,” said Hermione smugly, infuriating him.
“YOU WERE KICKING ME, YOU SPILT PUDDING ON MY FACE AND YOU SWORE AT ME! THEY CAN’T ALL HAVE BEEN BLOODY ACCIDENTS!” Harry bellowed at her.
“There is a great chance that they could have been,” Hermione murmured.
“HERMIONE! I don’t like Cho, OK? I was just writing to her to be polite.”
“Polite? You sounded more than polite, Harry.”
“OK, OK, so we were flirting a bit. But that’s no reason for you to go creeping into my room!”
“Technically, it’s not your room, it’s my guest room. Therefore I am allowed to go in and out as I please.”
“You didn’t have to read my stuff though!”
“I thought it was a story.”
“You thought it was a story? Tell me, Hermione, how on earth a letter can look like a story?”
Hermione narrowed her eyes at him.
“It just did. Now, would you kindly let go of me, I am beginning to feel strangled,” she said snottily.
Harry felt like hitting her and wondered how he could have ever loved her.
“You despicable little tart!” was all he could manage to say. He turned and walked smoothly away from her.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Later that night, Hermione tossed and turned in her bed. She could not sleep. She realised that she still had feelings for Harry, and this was driving her mad.
After what he’s done to me? How? She asked herself.
She got up and found herself getting dressed. She was definitely going crazy, getting changed when she was supposed to be asleep.
She walked out on to the landing and headed for Harry’s bedroom. There was a note stuck on his door:
I know when I am not wanted. I am on my way home to Privet Drive.
Hermione burst into tears. Harry couldn’t have gone home. She walked in to his room, hoping he was playing a spiteful joke on her. He wasn’t. His room was completely empty of all his things. He had gone.
Hermione felt awful. It was because of the way she had treated him. She had been jealous of his letter relationship with Cho, and that was why she had tortured him so. She knew that she had to get him to come back, it was dangerous out there.
She knew she couldn’t go out the door – her parents were downstairs, watching T.V. and they were bound to catch her. She looked out of Harry’s bedroom window. There was a drain pipe just next to it. She opened the window, and clung for dear life on to the drain pipe. Slowly, feet pressed against the wall, she went lowered herself downwards on to the ground.
She wondered where Harry would have gone. A thought occurred to her. He may have gone for a last minute walk in the park. She sprinted along the dark roads, and cut through the spooky alleyways, just to find him.
“HARRY!” she screamed once she reached the entrance to the park. “HARRY!”
She saw a figure hunched on a park bench. She dashed towards, and to her delight, saw Harry sitting there.
“Harry!” she cried out and flung herself down next to him.
“Oh,” he said. “It’s you.”
“Yes, it’s me! Oh Harry, I am so incredibly sorry. I was so harsh towards you. I didn’t mean to go nosing around in your room. I went in there to smell your scent –“
Harry cut her off, looking confused.
“My scent?” he said incredulously.
“Yes, you, um, smell nice. Anyway, I saw a letter with Cho’s name on your bedside table and I was horribly jealous. That is why I was so mean to you. Can you forgive me?” whispered Hermione. She was crying hard and her hand stroked his fingers lovingly.
Harry nodded. As soon as he did so, Hermione flung herself on top of him and began to kiss him passionately. At first, he did not return her kiss, but then he responded.
“Hermione,” he said, gasping for air. “I love you!”
“Oh Harry, I love you too!”
They kissed some more, until Hermione pushed Harry away.
“Harry…does this mean we’re a couple now?”
“Yep."
Hermione gave a little whoop. Happily, the kissing continued.
Then, Hermione pushed Harry off again.
“Urgh, what now?” he sounded exasperated.
“Harry…how are we going to tell Ron?”