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Harry's P.O.V.

Of course I supported (y/n) instead of Ron. Yes, Ron's my best friend, but (y/n) was right. Like always.

"What are you playing at, Harry?" Ron asks angrily. "Helping that lunatic—"

"Her name is (y/n)," I snap.

"—that lunatic (y/n) and defending Hermione like that! It's insulting!"

"And what do you think 'she's a nightmare' is? A tip of the hat?" I shoot back.

We're been doing this for the last twenty minutes and I'm rather sick of it now.

"It makes it look like you actually like her more than me!"

"And what if I do?"

That surprises both of us.

"Wait. Are you serious?" he asks.

I honestly don't know.

No, I can't be...

Am I?

"Is it that shocking that I could possibly like her?" I ask, avoiding the question.

"Well, no. It's just..." he trails off.

"Spit it out then. Go on, I won't bite," I say defensively.

"Why her?" he finishes.

"What do you mean 'why her'? Is there something wrong with her? She seems fine to me."

"Well, I mean, she's a bit mental... but I suppose they all are. She is actually quite pretty... she's kind when she's not trying to kill someone... I suppose I just never thought of her like that. If anything, she's like my annoying older sister," Ron decides.

"That makes sense seeing as how it would be quite difficult to like two people at once," I say nonchalantly.

Ron looks like I punched him.

"What! What are you talking about! I don't like anyone!" he insists frantically.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, Ron."

"It's not Hermione, not the Patils, not Lavender Brown, not Hermione, not Daphne Greengrass, not Susan Bones, and not Hermione! Who could it possibly be?"

"Well," I say casually, "let's start with the name you said not once, not twice, but a total of three times."

Ron goes pale then a deep shade of red.

"Really? I did?" He laughs nervously. "I guess I'm mental too."

He starts walking away but I grab him by the arm and yank him back.

"You said her name first, meaning that's the first girl you thought of. Then you said it in the middle—probably in an attempt to make it look like she wasn't at the top of your list—but you forgot that you'd already said her name. Then finally, you said her name one last time showing that she's always the last thing you think of when you finish a thought."

"Where the bloody hell did that come from?" Ron asks, deciding to completely ignore the fact that I'm obviously right.

"See, some of us have this thing in our heads called a brain. Bet you've got one too. You should try using it sometime," I tease.

"Shut it, Harry."

I just laugh. Then Ron laughs. Then we're both laughing.

"I'm hungry," I say once I can breathe again. "Let's go get something to eat."

𝗦𝗰𝗮𝗿-𝗖𝗿𝗼𝘀𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀 - 𝗬𝗲𝗮𝗿 𝗢𝗻𝗲Where stories live. Discover now