Could It Be Any More Obvious?

~CHAPTER 1~ Not talking?

Harry timidly glanced over the edge of his Transfiguration textbook at the pretty brunette finishing her homework on the couch opposite him. Usually he would be talking to her, asking about this or that on their homework assignment, trying to get free answers from her. But lately he just couldn't seem to get words out when he was near her. And the snitches he kept seeing flying around her head weren't helping either. He always wanted to reach out and grab them.

"What's happened to me?" Harry asked himself silently. "Jees, I hope Ron gets here soon," he added as an afterthought hoping that when he best friend arrived he could start talking again and maybe get some help with this one question in the essay they had been assigned.

Ron never came though. It was half an hour later and Harry was still struggling with himself and that question about transfiguring a hedgehog into a bouquet of flowers.

"Okay, Harry," he told himself in his idle mind, "just ask her. It's not as if, well, why can't I? I mean it's not as if I like her. For god's sakes it's . . . well come on!"

He watched closely as the girl causing him so much trouble put one final mark on her parchment and then put down her quill decidedly. Harry had been watching so carefully that he didn't notice when she looked up to see her best friend staring at her.

"Is there ink smeared across my face again, Harry?" Hermione asked him wondering what the strange look was for. Harry managed to choke out a 'no' before starting to read his upside down textbook once more. Hermione smiled and shook her head; sometimes she just could not understand boys.

"It doesn't matter how many grade 10 spells you know," Hermione reasoned, "it won't help decipher what boys are thinking." The only way she ever really knew what was going on inside their heads was if they flat out told her. And right now she definitely couldn't understand what Harry was thinking trying to do homework from an upside down book.

"Oh well," she sighed to herself and went back to reread her Herbology homework.

Another hour sped by. Harry had finally moved on to do assignments for other classes and had actually finished quite a bit of it. Hermione, however, had completed all of her work except for proof reading and was ready for dinner.

"Harry, I'm done and starving. Do you want to go down to dinner now?"

Harry, keeping his eyes on his Potions homework answered quietly, "Almost done, just a sec." He finished it off in one quick minute and then stood up to stretch. "First week of school and the Professors already feel like squashing us under the pile of work they're giving out," he said to Hermione almost confidently. In his head he added, "See that wasn't so hard now was it?"

"Oh shut up," he said back to himself. When he looked down at Hermione on the couch across the table he saw the snitches again. He shook his head.

"Okay, dinner. Just, let's put our stuff away and I'll meet you down here in a few minutes." Harry gathered his books up and sprinted to his room before Hermione could answer him. "Boys," she muttered.

The door to the sixth year boys' dormitory slammed shut loudly as Harry entered very confused. What the hell was wrong with him? He just couldn't be calm, and not rush out of there like an idiot? He went into the bathroom, tossing his books on his bed as he did so. Splashing cold water on his face, he calmed down a little. He looked into the mirror and was shocked like he always was when he looked into a mirror these days.

"Me without glasses is something to get used to," he said aloud. Over the summer Hermione had stumbled upon a spell to restore his eyesight and had preformed it on him the first instant she had seem him on the Hogwarts Express. Thinking about that led him to think about Hermione once more. This time instead of becoming confused he just shook his head as if to clear it and then walked down to the common room.

Coming down from the girls' dorm Hermione heard Harry before she saw him in the Gryffindor Common Room.

"Oh great she left without me," was the statement she heard before she came into view on the last few stone steps of the staircase from the girls' rooms. What she didn't hear was, "Probably because she thinks I've got crazy," because Harry had added that in his head.

"No I didn't," Hermione informed him, though it was unnecessary because he had finally spotted her a few seconds earlier.

"So I guess we'll meet Ron down there. He should be done his detention in the green houses by now." Harry smiled at Hermione's comment. In their last class of the day, Ron had accidentally knocked over a whole table of Mandrakes. Professor Sprout had not been too sympathetic in the process of telling him that he would have to stay after class to clean it up. When Ron had asked how long it would take, Professor Sprout simply listed off what needed to be done.

"Clean the dirt from the floor, refill the pots, replant all 30 mandrakes, feed and water them . . .," she went on. And with every new instruction Ron's face grew paler and longer at the same time.

"I'll be here until midnight," Ron had muttered under his breath.

"Did you say something Weasley?" Professor Sprout asked sharply.

"No, Professor, nothing at all," he answered as he slowly turned and began his clean up job.

It was now three hours later, seven in the evening by the grandfather clock standing regally by the tall stone fireplace.

"Okay, well let's get going," Harry directed.

As they made their way to the Great Hall for dinner both sixteen year olds were off in their own worlds, but they had thoughts that weren't at all completely different.