If there is one thing

If there is one thing, besides her intelligence, Hermione Granger prides herself on, it's her ability to understand everything that goes on around her. There may be times when she's confused or uncertain but in the end she always figures it out. In their first year, who figured out about the trap door and Sorcerer's Stone? Second year, what was in the Chamber of Secrets? And all the other things that have plagued the minds of Hogwarts, our famous trio of friends especially. So why is it that now, the very thing she can't figure out is the one thing she should definitely know: her own feelings?

It started out normally enough. Another year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Only this year would be different in ways no one could have foreseen. Entering into their sixth year, all those hormones that had before lain mainly dormant erupted in an extremely volcanic way.

Sixteen years old and the students could hardly control themselves. Everywhere you looked there was some snogging couple. In the hallways, the common rooms, the dormitories. Some even dared to go as far as to pounce on each other in the Great Hall during meals. Amidst all the post-pubescent relations, the appointed adult supervision was too busy with their own love lives to care much. Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall had been casting each other moon eyes (over moon shaped glasses that is) since the begging of the term. It didn't take a psychic to see how involved Professor Snape and Professor Trelawney were with each other. Even our Gryffindor Golden Boy, Harry Potter was affected. Only problem was, no one knew who he was seeing. Partner-in-crime Ronald Weasley could be seen with anything that moved. The third musketeer however, Hermione Granger, was in a category of her own.

She remained single, not that she didn't have chances at romance. Over the years Hermione seemed to grow more and more beautiful. No man that came into contact with her was immune to her oblivious charm. Hermione was obviously still unaware of her new found good looks, as she still carried herself as the studious and shy bookworm we've all grown to know and love. Though everyone else may have seen her as the amazing woman she was, she saw herself as the old bushy-haired, buck-teethed, hermit girl she used to be. So when eager young blokes came courting, she dismissed them thinking they were either acting on a dare or a joke. Besides, she had much better things to do than follow along in the puppy-love footsteps of her peers. Yet no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't shake a nagging feeling of loneliness.

Not that she was alone. Quite the contrary. Harry, Ron, and herself were as close as ever. Not even the boys' relationships could keep them apart. Often they sat around talking, reflecting on their past adventures, victories, and losses. Nothing much had changed with the three in that aspect. Ron and Hermione still had their squabbles. Harry still played peacemaker, when he wasn't himself fighting with one or the other. Of course, they always made up over a good butter beer. Though the boys' relationships didn't separate them, it did put a strain on their friendship. Harry seemed so preoccupied with his secret romance that even when he was there physically, he was barely there mentally. Often, which ever girl-of the-week Ron happened to be running around with, would complain about him spending so much time with Hermione. Who could blame them?! Any girl worth her women's suffrage card would object to their boyfriend spending such quality time with such a temptation. Anytime Hermione would hear rumors about her trying to steal Ron away from his current beau, she could hardly contain her laughter.

Imagine, she would think. Me and Ron. What a joke.

She thought like this for months into the school term. In fact, they had already taken mid-terms before a new and foreign thought started creeping into her mind. It happened one day while Ron and Hermione were studying. Better yet, Hermione was studying and Ron was babbling on like Ron usually tends to do when he doesn't want to do something that has to do with academics.

"Where do you think he goes?" Ron asked, as he lay on his bed and looked up at the ceiling.

"Where does who go?" Hermione responded, without stopping her constant scribbling on her Germinium Potions essay.

"Why Harry, of course," Ron said, sitting up and looking at her. Hermione stopped writing and finally looked up.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, haven't you noticed the way he's been disappearing lately?" Hermione looked as if she were trying to come up with an answer for a moment before shrugging her shoulders and going back to work.

"Harry's always doing something dangerous that we'll eventually get tied into. Then we'll go off and have a grand adventure in which all of our lives are threatened. My guess is we'll be going against the Dark Lord himself soon enough."

"That's what I thought at first too, but now I'm not so sure."

Hermione lifted her eyebrows in the slightest hint of recognition. Ron sighed, rolled his eyes, and stopped her incessant writing by putting his hand on hers. When he didn't let go Hermione looked down at them, questioningly. They were tingling in a way she had never felt before. This new feeling surprised her so much she snatched her hand away from his, and accidentally knocked over her bottle of ink.

"Oh, bugger!" Hermione exclaimed, as she stood up to try to get off some of the ink in her jeans.

"Here Hermione, let me help you."

Ron ran to his trunk and pulled out one of his infamous Weasley Christmas sweaters. He bent down and wiped around Hermione's crotch area where the ink had spilled. Both knew that Hermione could have zapped the ink away with a simple flick of her wand, but neither seemed to have realized that at the time. When they came to and realized what they were doing, Hermione's body grew rigid but she didn't pull away. Ron dropped the sweater into Hermione's hands and backed away, turning a shade of red to rival his hair.

"I-I'm sorry. I di-din't mean to..." Ron said, turning an even deeper shade of red.

"It's ok. No harm done," Hermione said, trying to sound as calm, cool, and collected as possible, which was in total contradiction to the rapid beating of her heart.

"Ronald! Where are you?" Lavender Brown, Ron's flavor-of the-week, called into the room. She had looked none too happy before she entered, but upon seeing Ron and Hermione alone in the room, with flushed faces and ragged breaths, she looked downright devilish. Ron didn't help matters at all.

"Lavender! W-we weren't doing anything. Hermione... sh-she spilled some ink on her pants and I was just trying to get it off." Lavender glared harder.

"I hadn't accused you of anything, Ronald. However, you do look mighty guilty."

Ron's scarlet face went pale white in record time. Wanting to avoid a confrontation, Hermione intervened.

"He's telling the truth Lavender. He was just trying to help a friend. Nothing happened." Lavender then turned her death glare on Hermione. She shifted to fold her arms across her chess.

"Oh really? I suppose Ms. I-learned-advanced-Transfiguration-in-third-year couldn't cast a simple repair charm to fix the jeans. Anyway, since when do you care about fashion?"

Hermione bit back a clever retort and replied simply, "I don't. It's just that I really like these jeans and I've had them for a long time now." Lavender smirked.

"Obviously."

Hermione held down yet another come back and started to gather her things to go. She walked pass Lavender to the door when Ron, who had been in some kind of trance, ran to block her exit.

"You don't have to go, 'Mione. We haven't even finished studying."

"Oh, believe me. You're finished." Lavender said from behind them. Hermione smiled a little and strode pass Ron through the door.

At dinner time the great hall was all a buzz about Ron and Hermione getting "caught in the act". Which "act" it was, was never really specified. No one really cared. All anyone had to say was, "Ron, Hermione, and Lavender caught" and there would be an ear anxious to hear the rest. Stories about the so-called affair ranged everywhere from way too affectionate hand holding, to the two having hot bondage sex with whips and harnesses. The latter usually circulating around the Slytherin table.

To save face, Lavender absolutely insisted that Ron sit with her instead of his usual spot with Ron and Hermione. Harry didn't seem to notice at all. Then again, Harry hadn't been paying attention to anything that was going on in the Great Hall except for what was going on at the Slytherin table. He was so absorbed in the serpent side of the room that he had barely even touched his food. Hermione didn't notice much either. While not really being one for gossip, she was still a little sensitive when people associated her with some things. But, what worried her more was not what was being said, but how she felt about what was being said. Because, she realized as she thought about it more and more, it didn't bother her this time nearly as much as it typically did. She tried to shrug it off in her usual manner.

I can't believe people are actually buying this stuff.

Hermione thought as she looked around at all the pointing fingers and, hand-covered whispers.

I mean, honestly! Me and Ron? That's so ridiculously absurd it's downright hil-

Her train of thought was cut off when she looked down the table at the man she was supposed to be having a red hot romance with. Only to find him looking right back at her. After jumping from her initial surprise, she gave Ron a warm smile, who returned the gesture. Lavender turned her head to see what held Ron's attention, and when her line of vision ended at Hermione she sent her an evil look. Then she turned Ron's head to look back at her. After a few moments she went back to gossiping with her friends and Lavender forgot all about Ron. Once he was sure he had gained Hermione's attention (not that hard since she never took her eyes off of him), he made a gun shape with his thumb and first two fingers. He put it to his head and pulled the pretend trigger. Hermione laughed as did Ron. Then he sent her one more warm-hearted smile before turning back to a seething Lavender Brown. Hermione ignored the butterflies in her stomach, as well as the rapid beating in her heart, and went back to her thoughts.

As I said before. Ron and I together romantically is completely and utterly rid-

She stopped again as the mere thought of her friend's smile made her heart skip a few tempos faster.

Actually... it's not that funny anymore.