Harry sat by the fire in the common room later that afternoon beside an empty scroll of parchment and his copy of Defensive Magical Theory idly opened to page 196.
"You really should start that essay, Harry," said Hermione seating herself in a chair beside him.
"Hermione," said Harry uncomfortably.
"Yes?"
"What do you think of Pansy Parkinson?" Hermione twisted her lips into a grin and said,
"Oh Harry, Pansy is never going to go out with you. I don't even know why you like her." Harry was quite taken aback, for this was the first time he'd ever brought Pansy up in front of Hermione.
"How— How did you—"
"Oh please, Harry, you can never seem to take your eyes off of her. Honestly, I'd be surprised if she didn't know at this point."
Harry felt his face redden with embarrassment that was quickly replaced by comfort. If Pansy already suspected him of fancying her, then that was one less thing he'd have to explain! Perhaps she'd even be expecting him to make a move... Harry's thoughts were cut off by a group of muttering first-years by the Notice Board.
"I wish we could go," said a stout, curly-haired boy.
"Only two more years," remarked the girl beside him. Harry and Hermione went to see what they were talking about and found a new announcement posted.
"Oh, the first Hogsmeade trip is next weekend!" said Hermione evidently. Harry felt a rush of excitement, for the moment couldn't be more perfect. Without another word to Hermione, he dispersed himself from the crowd and headed for the portrait hole. "Harry, where are you going!" she called, but he was already climbing out of the common room and striding down the corridor.
He had to find Pansy and ask her to accompany him to Hogsmeade. He was sure that if he didn't make a move soon, Malfoy would, and the thought of her beautiful face pressed against that of his archenemy tore apart his insides in a way that not even Umbridge's sickening, girlish voice could.
He walked down the staircase and along the corridors at a fast pace, passing a group of Ravenclaw girls shooting him disgusted looks and Albus Dumbledore standing against a suit of armor in a pale yellow nightdress.
"Hello Professor," said Harry eagerly, but the headmaster kept his eyes on the opposite wall and gave no sign that Harry was anything more than a rusty suit of armor himself. "Professor, I was wondering if we could talk," he raised his volume as though he were speaking to someone half-deaf. He stalked off in anger after receiving a mere look of gaiety from Dumbledore as he stood motionless in his nightdress.
Harry felt as though Dumbledore had been going out of his way to avoid him ever since his court hearing at the Ministry back in August. He never spared Harry anything as much as friendly eye contact or a simple "hello" when they were in close proximity to one another. It was very unfair, Harry thought, since he was the one who saw Voldemort return and was attacked by dementors just one month later.
His thoughts were so fixed on his wrath with Dumbledore that he'd forgotten exactly why he was out in the corridors, to begin with. But the recollection struck him as he reached the bottom of the marble staircase and met a group of Slytherin third-years barking in the Entrance Hall. Pansy! He made his way toward the door that led to Slytherin Dungeon and stood beside it hoping to catch Pansy entering or exiting. If she was in the common room, she'd have to come out soon for her three o'clock class.
