𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞 𝐀𝐦𝐞 | 𝐇.𝐏.

𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝟔 - 𝟓

"He's at perfect liberty to kiss whoever he likes," Hermione assured Potter and I not so reassuringly as we followed her around the library. Which was more difficult than it seemed, by the way, because she was walking very fast, stopping only momentarily to furiously shove a book back in its proper place on a shelf.

"I really couldn't care less!" She continued. Potter and I shared a look. Then we realized we were sharing a look and quickly averted our gazes. Last night was still replaying in my mind, as I assumed it was in his too. We hadn't kissed or even held hands or anything stupid like that, but it was the first time we had been alone since last year, and I wasn't sure how I felt about it. 

"Was I under the impression that him and I would be attending Slughorn's Christmas party together?" Hermione asked. Potter opened his mouth to answer. "That was a rhetorical question," she snapped. "But yes. Now, given the circumstances, I've had to make other arrangements."

"Other arrangements?" I asked interestedly, as Hermione finally stopped in between two towering bookcases and leaned against a table in defeat. "Who is this other arrangement?"

"It's... a surprise," Hermione decided. "Anyways, it's Harry we've got to worry about," she added, gaze flicking to me. Potter stared at her in confusion, but I knew exactly what she was talking about. And I didn't like it. 

"See that girl over there?" Hermione asked him, nodding to one of the only currently used tables behind us. There, a Slytherin girl from our grade with coiled black hair and dark eyes sat, staring in our direction with a small, flirtatious smile on her face. 

"That's Romilda Vane," Hermione supplied when Potter finally found her. I crossed my arms moodily and started messing with the rug with the tip of my shoe. 

"Apparently, she's trying to smuggle you a love potion," I said. I couldn't meet his eyes. 

"Really?" He asked, sounding positively aghast. 

"Hey!" Hermione snapped her fingers in front of his face. "She's only interested in you because she thinks you're the Chosen One."

"But I am the Chosen One," Potter replied, and I could practically hear the playful smirk on his face that I hated so much because I loved it so much. Hermione slapped him on the top of the head with her newspaper. I barely held in my laughter.

"Right, sorry," Potter grimaced. "Er, kidding." He took a deep breath, and now it was him who didn't want to meet my eyes. "I'll ask someone I like. Someone cool."

Two days later in the common room I was talking to Ginny about Dean. Apparently they had been fighting a lot recently, but she wasn't sure if she wanted anyone to know yet because Weasley was already looking for a reason to dismember the poor guy. When I assured her that Potter and I couldn't even look each other in the face for more than five seconds without the both of us getting embarrassed, she felt a little better. 

Soon we were laughing like always about the stupidest things, and I didn't even realize Potter, Hermione, and Weasley were behind us until Ginny nodded across the room. When I turned around Weasley and Hermione had huge grins on their face, while Potter's was steadily gaining color. It looked like they were teasing him about something.

I turned back to Ginny and she laughed, but looked over my shoulder and quickly stopped again. This time she took me by my arms and forcefully turned me around so I was completely facing the other direction.

Potter was right there, walking towards Ginny and I. He was only a few steps away when Weasley pushed him in between his shoulder blades, and he stumbled the rest of the way forwards. Ginny snorted and I tilted my head at him, an amused smile on my face.