The Matchmakers

The next morning Harry awoke late. It was a Saturday so he didn't need to worry about having to get to class. There was a Quidditch practise scheduled for the afternoon but other than that, Harry had nothing to do. By the time he rose, the other boys from his dorm had left so it was eerily quiet.

Harry dressed quickly in jeans and a dark blue shirt and walked down to the Common Room. It was deserted and it was only then that Harry remembered it was also a Hogsmeade weekend and everyone from the third year and above had gone. The first years were at their Flying lesson and the second years had all been given Saturday detentions for a month by Professor Snape after a rather nasty accident involving Bubotuber Puss and Gillyweed. It resulted in Snape having platinum blonde hair for several days.

Harry was just about the head down to the Great Hall when Hermione emerged from the staircase which led to the girls dormitories. She looked like she had hardly slept and was wearing her usual Saturday clothes - plain black trousers and a blouse. This week her blouse was a dark green. Her hair was tied in a messy ponytail and her book bag was slung over her shoulder. She was obviously on her way to the Library.

"Hermione!" Harry called without thinking. She looked up and blushed a brilliant red before turning quite pale. "I think we need to talk."

"Me too," agreed Hermione. They sat in chairs opposite each other in silence for at least a minute before Hermione said: "Maybe one of us should say something before we leave Hogwarts."

"That might be a good idea," said Harry. "About last night. What happened?"

"Nothing happened," Hermione said, sounding slightly bitter. "It's just... where do we go from here? What happens next?"

They fell into a thoughtful silence. Harry eventually said, "I don't know. Are we still friends?"

Hermione bit her lip. "I'm not sure. I think we need to think about this alone."

"That sounds like a good idea."

"No, Harry. I meant, I think we should stay away from each other until we've both had time to think." Hermione gathered up her bag and strode towards the portrait hole. She opened it, but before she left she turned to Harry and said, "I think it's for the best."

As soon as she had closed the portrait hole, Hermione practically sprinted towards the Library. The Library was her sanctuary. Madame Pince, the Librarian, didn't even wonder why Hermione was there when she raced in there, tears filling up her eyes. She almost fell into a seat in her favourite part of the Library. It was a secluded area, just near the Restricted Section. Tears sprung from her eyes and as she tried to valiantly wipe them away with one hand, she pulled a small, leather-bound book from her bag - her diary.

She set it on the table in front of her and set a quill on it. It stood on it's point, poised and ready to write when Hermione began to speak. Through her tears, Hermione quietly poured her heart out to the small book, her every word absorbed by the enchanted quill and reproduced on the parchment:

I am such an idiot. I think I just broke up with Harry. Not that we were going out or anything, but I think I just ruined our friendship. I told him we both need time to think through what happened last night and that we should stay away from each other!

I don't know what I think any more. Ron, Lavender and Ginny, not to mention everyone else at this school, think that me and Harry are perfect for each other. Everyone, that is, except me and Harry. Until Harry was my best friend. Nothing more, nothing less. Now... I don't know.

After Ron broke up with me, I told myself I wouldn't fall for one of my best friends ever again. But I think I have. But this isn't like it was with Ron. Harry is so sweet and gentle and he cares a lot about me. It wasn't like that with Ron. I think that was just... lust. This is more like love.

There. I said it. I'm in love with him.

In the Gryffindor Common Room, Harry was having the same sort of mental turmoil. He sat there in silence, just staring into space, hardly thinking about anything. When the first years returned from their Flying lesson, Harry left the Common Room and headed back up to the dormitory, not wishing to be in anyone else's company for the time being.

That evening in the Great Hall at dinner, Harry sat alone, away from Hermione who was sat talking quietly with Parvati Patil. He was just finishing his meal when Ron, Lavender and Ginny appeared and sat down. Ron and Lavender sat next to him while Ginny sat across the table.

Harry had come to a conclusion that this was all their fault, which it probably was, so he silently stood and skulked out of the Great Hall.

Ron looked helplessly at his best friend as he left. "What's going on?" Ginny asked. "Why did Harry leave? And why is Hermione not speaking to us either?"

"They're not speaking to each other either," said Lavender.

Ron quickly informed Ginny of the situation and saw the colour drain from his little sister's face. "Well that explains a lot," she said.

"So what are we going to do?" asked Lavender.

"Plan B," said Ron.

"Which is what?" asked Ginny.

Ron shrugged. "I haven't thought of it yet."

In the Gryffindor Common Room, Harry sunk into a chair next to Dean and Seamus who were having one of their infamous Quidditch versus football arguments.

"What's the point in having just one ball?"

"Why do you always bring up the fact that there's only one ball?" asked Dean.

"Hey, Harry, what do you..." He noticed Harry's glum expression and trailed off. "What's the matter, mate?"

"Hermione," grumbled Harry.

"Is she trying to get you to start revising for the N.E.W.T's yet?" asked Dean, but Seamus stared at Harry, his dark gaze sweeping up and down. His eyes widened and he shook his head.

"I don't believe it," he breathed and Harry looked up at him. "You fell for her!"

Harry closed his eyes and leant back, his head hitting against the back of the chair. "I'll take that as a yes then," said Seamus and Harry nodded, his eyes still closed.

"Oh, man," muttered Dean.

"My thoughts exactly," said Harry dully, sitting up. He leant forwards, resting his elbows on his knees and cupping his chin in his hands. "What am I going to do?"

"Dunno, mate," said Seamus. "She's a great girl, that Hermione. I know you'll make the right choice." With this sentiment,

Seamus stood and departed to spent time with his girlfriend, a sixth year Gryffindor by the name of Mathilda.

Harry looked helplessly at Dean. "Sorry, mate. Can't help you. I'm not exactly an expert when it comes to love." He shrugged. "Like the mad Irishman said, whatever you decide will be right." He too left, leaving Harry alone with this thoughts for the second time that day.

Hermione was having a similar conversation with Parvati Patil in the girls dormitory.

"It's not that I don't mind, Hermione, but why aren't you with Harry? Or Ron?" said Parvati, concerned. Hermione didn't answer, instead a closed expression drew across her face. Puzzled by Hermione's strange behaviour, Parvati pressed on. "Have you fallen out with them?"

Hermione hung her head. "I don't know. I'm not speaking to Ron though and me and Harry need a bit of distance." Parvati sat next to Hermione and nodded, not telling Hermione to stop but almost inviting her to go on. Without intending to, Hermione poured out all her problems to Parvati. Parvati stared open mouthed at Hermione as she finished her story.

"You kissed him?"

"No! I almost kissed him. Almost, but didn't."

"Wow. This is amazing. You and Harry. I mean, there's always been... something between the two of you, but I thought it was sort of dormant," said Parvati.

"You won't tell anyone?" asked Hermione worriedly. Parvati shook her head and made a cross over her chest. Hermione smiled. "Thanks."

"No problem," said Parvati smiling. She suddenly looked at her watch and groaned. "Dammit. I've got to go, Hermione - some guy from Ravenclaw is supposed to be tutoring me in Charms." She pulled a face and picked up her wand from her bedside table. She twirled it in her fingers like a baton and grinned. "See you later!"

When Parvati left Hermione pulled out her diary and began to write. She had only written a couple of sentences when there was a tapping on the window. Curious, Hermione walked to the window and opened it. A smart looking owl flew inside and landed on the desk which was littered with everything from lipsticks to spare bottles of ink in varying shades of blue and black.

It dropped a letter on the desk and flew swiftly out again. Hermione carefully opened the letter, noticing that the Hogwarts seal was on the envelope. From the envelope she pulled a piece of thick parchment. Neat handwriting in emerald green ink filled the parchment. It read:

Dear Miss Granger,
May I congratulate you on your outstanding grades. You have produced consistently good work throughout your time at Hogwarts, but I am afraid there is a problem. I do not normally do this for students, but I feel that I can make an exception as you are a very bright young woman.
As part of your Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests, a new subject area has been added - Flying. As I know you wish to get the best marks in all your subjects, I propose that you have some extra tutoring in the subject as it is not your forte.
The student who will be tutoring you requires help in another part of the curriculum - Transfiguration. As this is one of your best subjects, I am suggesting that you tutor him in return.
As I am positive that you will agree to this arrangement (Hermione couldn't help but smile at this) I have arranged for the first part of your tutoring session to begin at seven o'clock this evening. Mr Potter shall be waiting for you on the Quidditch Pitch.
Yours sincerely,
Professor M. McGonagall

Hermione read the last line in disbelief. Mr Potter shall be waiting for you on the Quidditch Pitch. She was going to be tutoring Harry. Out of every seventh year student at Hogwarts, she had to be tutoring Harry, didn't she? This was going to be interesting.

Harry arrived at the Quidditch Pitch about ten minutes earlier than he need to. He began to pace impatiently, his trusty Firebolt clutched in his hands. 'What am I going to do?' he thought. 'This is unbelievable! I'm worried about seeing Hermione! I've been friends with her for what? Almost seven years and I'm afraid to speak to her! I'm like some love-struck teenager! Wait, you are a love-struck teenager, Potter. Did I just call myself Potter? I'm going mad! Insane! All because of her! Dammit! Why does she have to be so perfect?' he thought bitterly.

He breathed deeply, and looked up from where he had been staring at the ground. Stood on the edge of the Quidditch Pitch, her old Nimbus 2000 in her hand was Hermione. Her hair was swept up into a ponytail and she was wearing sports clothes. Mixed emotions raged across her face: fear, worry, anxiety, happiness and sorrow all mixed into one. In her eyes there was an unreadable expression. She walked swiftly over to him. "Good evening, Harry."

"Hermione," said Harry, nodding curtly. 'Way to go, Harry! Cold and aloof - that's how to win her. Not!'

'He hates me,' thought Hermione cringing. "We better get on with it." Harry nodded and they mounted their brooms.

They rose to about ten feet in the air and hovered there. "Are you okay?" asked Harry.

"I don't really feel like talking now, Harry," said Hermione.

"I meant on the broom." Hermione blushed then nodded. "Okay, we're going to raise about five feet then turn one hundred and eighty degrees and land again." Hermione nodded to show she understood. They rose, and Harry turned his broom easily. Hermione, however, hand more trouble. She couldn't seem to get the broom to turn at all.

"Hermione, just land and I'll give you a crash course in steering," Harry advised. When they both had their feet firmly on the ground, Harry dismounted and strode over to Hermione. "Here, I'll show you." He carefully climbed onto the broom behind her. He placed his arms around her, his hands covering her own. She tensed, and Hermione could feel the colour rising in her cheeks.

"Just like this," Harry instructed her, showing her exactly how to move the broom. She nodded and before she could protest, Harry had pushed off from the ground and they were twenty feet in the air.

"Harry Potter! What on Earth do you think you are doing? You know I don't like heights!"

Harry grinned, even though Hermione couldn't see it. "This isn't high, Hermione. This is high." He forced the broom to a higher altitude and Hermione let out a small shriek. "Calm down, you can't ride a broom if you're tense."

Hermione twisted herself round slightly so she could look Harry in the eyes. "I'm seventy-five feet in the air! How am I supposed to calm down?" she asked angrily, her fear of heights making her aggressive.

"Close your eyes," Harry advised gently, and she complied, still facing him.

"Now what?"

"This..." whispered Harry leaning in. It was almost as if she knew what was coming, as Hermione tilted her head upwards, anticipating the kiss. Before their lips could meet, there was a creaking sound, then an almighty snap as the broom broke in half and Harry and Hermione were sent hurtling towards the ground.