Utter Confusion

*Harry's Point of View*

Harry thought he'd heard her wrong. Surely he had misunderstood what she'd said. Or maybe she found this to be some sort of sick, twisted joke. No, Hermione would never do something like that. Ron might, but never Hermione. The only logical explanation was he still had water in his ears from his shower. That or quidditch practice had proved to be far more strenuous than he'd thought. He stared at his feet for a few moments in silence, not trusting himself to speak just yet. When he did manage to find his voice again, it didn't sound as calm as he'd hoped it would.

'You . . . you're what?'

'I'm falling for Draco Malfoy,' she repeated tonelessly, but she looked nervous as she folded her hands in her lap and gazed intently down at them. She seemed to be just as displeased with this as he was.

'And when did this . . . happen?' He shifted his gaze back to his feet. What he'd really wanted to ask, was when she had lost all sanity, but he refrained. It was hardly ever a good idea to anger Hermione when she was confused, and if you ever did on the rare occasion that happened, you'd better watch out. She wasn't the most clever witch in her class for anything, you know.

She began to restlessly fold her hands again and again, and he could see she was trying to come up with an answer. Her movement was beginning to distract him, and he took her hands in his own to hold still. She smiled apologetically up at him.

'I'm not sure. But it's been getting harder to concentrate in lessons, and I hardly remember to do my assignments on time. You know that Transfiguration essay that's due in three weeks?' Harry nodded. 'I
haven't even gotten past writing the first line. I'm so behind. I can't keep him off my mind, Harry,' her amber eyes locked with his pleading for help. He began to stroke her hand with his thumb making her sigh in frustration. 'And you've no need to tell me how mental I've become, because believe me, I know.'

'Even if Malfoy is interested in you, it would have never worked,' Harry said in a small voice. He saw anger flare into her eyes. Oh no, he'd done it. He hoped she wouldn't hex him into next year.

'And why not?' Her voice was stern. Who the hell did she think she was, getting mad at him? Wasn't he trying to help her here?

'Because Malfoy's only interested in one thing, and once he got it he'd throw you away,' Harry replied not being able to curb the anger edging into his own voice. 'He's only interested in a challenge. He doesn't care about you.'

'And why wouldn't he?' She pulled her hands away from him and swiftly stood from the bed.

'Why? Honestly, Hermione, because he doesn't see who you are. All he sees are the physical changes you've made over the summer. Why else would he suddenly find you appealing?'

She looked hurt. 'So you're saying that there's no other reason he could be attracted to me except for my body? Maybe he's changed, Harry. I know it's hard to explain, but I can see it in his eyes when he looks at me. Something's different.'

Harry snorted. Draco Malfoy change? Yes, and maybe Neville would remember the passwords to the common room for the rest of the term. That was likely. 'That's not change, Hermione, that's lust. He's still the same prat we met our first year here, and you know it. Don't tell me that you've forgotten all the things Malfoy's done to us. Can't you remember what he calls you?'

'I know bloody well what he calls me, Harry,' she spat, making her way to her own bed. He knew what she was planing to do, and he wasn't going to let her. She was going to shut him off, and he wasn't ready to end this just yet. There was so much more, and he needed to know. So many questions he needed answered. But the way things looked, Hermione didn't even have the answers to those herself.

'Then why? Why him . . . ' And why not me, his brain added. No, he mentally slapped himself. He couldn't do this now. Hermione was just his friend. So what if he sometimes felt like taking her into his arms and kissing her deeply, with all the passion he could muster. It didn't mean anything. Okay, so maybe he had a few romantic feelings for her. And it was only natural, after all. They spent practically all their time together, and it wasn't as if all those fights with Voldemort hadn't brought them closer to each other. He'd just have to deal with these feelings later, now was not the time.

'You think this is what I want?' She reached for the hangings around her bed and started to draw them around her. Obviously she'd had enough conversation. He knew he couldn't have continued it on if he'd tried. 'Sorry, but I'm exhausted. I'll see you in the morning, Harry.'

He frowned. She was pushing him away, she'd never done that before. Slowly he stood from Lavender's bed and reluctantly walked toward the door. 'Goodnight Hermione,' he sighed as he left the girl's dormitory and headed into the common room. Hopefully he could get an armchair near the fire, it might help him sort out these feelings after all, but as he headed over to a vacant spot someone called to him. He turned around and spotted Ron seated at a table with parchment scattered around him.

'What's this?' Harry grinned at the redhead. 'What's this? Could it be Ronald Weasley is doing homework on his own? Are you feeling well?'

'Shut it,' Ron snapped and looked in anguish at the parchment rolls surrounding him. 'Either you help me predict my cause of death next Tuesday or sod off. By the way how's Mione? You talked with her, didn't you?'

'She's fine,' Harry laughed. 'Divination?' He questioned looking at the particular piece of parchment lying before Ron, who nodded. 'Have you considered death by Aragog?'

'Think that's clever, do you? You weren't so sure of yourself when that rather large spider was carrying you off, now were you?' Ron shuddered at the memory. 'I think I'll just get decapitated again. Think she'll notice I've used that three times already?' Ron looked thoughtfully from his notes to Harry. 'You were up in her dormitory quite awhile,' He raised an eyebrow, and Harry knew Ron could tell he wasn't being told the whole truth. Sure, Ron always put off his homework until the last minute, failed miserably in Potions and was always asking Hermione for help with assignments, but he was really very perceptive and bloody brilliant in his own way. Harry, of course, would never admit that to him though. He'd never hear the end of it if he did.

'She just say's she tired,' Harry said quickly not wanting to focus his thoughts back on Hermione until he was alone. He knew he had to talk to her again, talk some sense into her. He'd just have to catch her before they went down to the Great Hall for breakfast. Ron was a late sleeper, so he'd really have no problem being able to talk to her without interference. He shuddered. Malfoy? 'So,' his thoughts turning back to Ron, who'd begun scribbling again on the roll of parchment in front of him. 'How exactly are you planning on getting decapitated this time?'