Utter Confusion

*Hermione's Point of View*

Confusion. Utter confusion, and she didn't like it. No, she didn't like it one bit. This wasn't the type of thing that could be sorted out with a trip to the library, not that she hadn't tried, but to no avail.

'Hey, Moine?' Ron's voice brought her back to reality. 'Where's Harry?'

'Quidditch practice,' she said before shuffling through her notes, pretending to be immersed in schoolwork. Maybe if she looked busy he'd leave her to get back to her thoughts.

'Oh,' Ron replied looking a bit disappointed. 'So...you feel like a game of wizard's chess?' He looked hopefully up at her.

She sighed. It was times like this she seriously thought about investing in an invisibility cloak. 'I'm rather busy at the moment, Ron. I need to finish up this Transfiguration essay.'

'Any reason in particular you're looking at your Potion's notes then?' He gestured to the roll of parchment she clutched in her hands.

She blushed slightly before tucking the notes away in her bag. He'd caught her. How was she going to talk her way out of this?

'Easy,' the voice inside her answered. 'Tell him. He's your friend. He'll understand.' No she reasoned. He was apt to get angry, and he wasn't likely to understand more than she did. She'd just have to make a quick retreat and wait for Harry to get back. Yes, Harry would listen to her calmly, and help her make sense of it all. After all, he'd helped her out countless times before. Harry was always there for her. He was her best friend.

'You know,' she muttered to Ron, hoping to come up with a reasonable excuse, 'I'm really very tired. All this studying has caught up to me. I think I'll just call it a night.' She grabbed her bag and headed up to the stairs to the girls dormitory as fast as she could, willing herself not to trip on the steps in her haste.

'But, Mione, it's only seven. Mione?' She ignored Ron's protests and slammed the door to the seventh year girls dormitory. She collapsed on her bed and let her mind wander to her earlier thoughts.

She hadn't developed feelings for that slimy little git, had she? All he'd done was let his eyes appreciatively rake over her body, taking in her new curves, and suddenly she couldn't get him out of her head? This wasn't right. In all her seven years at Hogwarts, she'd never let herself bother with guys, and now it seemed hormones had finally gotten the better of her. True, he did have a gorgeous body, all those years of quidditch practice had done nicely for him. And he was classically handsome with his long pale blonde hair, stormy grey eyes and pale skin. But he'd proven himself evil on so many occasions. Not to mention his family was proven to be connected closely with the dark lord. Draco Malfoy, the name sent shivers down her spine, in the most uncomfortable manner. Or at least what she told herself was an uncomfortable manner. Her mortal enemy, raised to hate her for her blood, and yet the object of her desires. How could she have fallen so blindly into this mess? She was supposed to be the most clever witch in her year, hell, in all of Hogwarts for that matter, yet she'd never felt more stupid. A muffled knock on the door echoed through the silence of the room, breaking Hermoine from her thoughts.

'Hermoine?' Harry's voice called softly through the door. God, how long had she been lying here thinking? She glanced down at her watch before registering the time in her brain. Ten o'clock? Of course Harry would be back from quidditch practice by now, and if Ron had told him of her strange behavior he'd be sure to check on her. Had she really been lost in her own confusion for three hours? Harry knocked again when she didn't answer him. 'Hermoine, are you okay? Can you open this door please?' She stretched her stiff legs before climbing down from the bed to make her way to the door. 'Mione?' Harry asked worriedly as the door swung open and he noticed the look of tiredness on her face.

'I'm fine, Harry.' He shot her a doubtful glance. 'No I'm perfectly fine, really. I've just been doing some thinking.'

He wandered further into the room and sat on Lavender's bed. 'Thinking,' he repeated slowly. 'Thinking about what?'

She crossed the room and sat down next to him on the bed. How was she going to do this? She had to tell him, but she'd no idea where to start.

'About Malfoy.' She might as well jump in headfirst, no sense in beating around the bush.

Harry's look of confusion and doubt deepened. 'What about Malfoy? Did he say something to you? Hermione, did he call you...has he been calling you a mudblood again?' At the mention of this foul name, Harry's hands balled into fists.

'No. Well, not recently anyway. And that's nothing to do with it,' she heaved an exasperated sigh.

Harry flexed his hands before running one through his damp hair, a result of an after practice shower. 'Then I don't understand. What's this have to do with him?'

'I don't quite understand myself, Harry,' she paused looking into his green eyes before continuing on. 'The things is...well...you see the thing is...'

'Spit it out, Hermione,' Harry said anxiously.

She paused hoping she was doing the right thing. Harry was able to get just as angry as Ron about this. But she had to tell someone. And of all people she could tell, Harry was the best, she knew it, as much as she dreaded what was coming next. 'The thing is, I think I'm falling for Draco Malfoy.'