Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters. Not even George, who is far too sweet.... *sniffle* wish I did though... Characters belong to JK Rowling, I'm just writing little plots for them...

A/N: Yes, I do have an update... bit short though... eh... u.u; I shall write on! Oh, er, before I forget, excessive use of caps locks may follow, and, er, semi-mild cursing (I don't think it's bad at all, but different people have different standards.) You have been forewarned. Enjoy! ^_~

More Fight - er, Talking...

The following weeks were interesting ones, to say the least. Harry and Hermione had no desire to speak to one another. Hermione still remembered Harry's comment about 'brighter and flashier girls', and Harry was still offended that Hermione hadn't told them for so long, and still refused to tell Ron. Of course, he couldn't bring himself to tell Ron. He couldn't even tell Ron that he and Hermione were fighting, because that would lead to troublesome questions, like 'Why?'

It didn't take Hermione too long to notice that Ron had no idea what had happened, the fact that he walked straight into breakfast the next morning and sat right beside her being a big clue. Harry had hesitated a second, before sitting on Ron's other side.

Ron felt very happy with the whole situation, at first. He talked about Quidditch, and complained about the homework overload, and the idiocy of teachers, and no one interrupted him. Harry and Hermione *did* seem a bit quiet all the time, but he suspected that was due to other things. But as time went on, he suspected that these 'other things' might not be quite what he had thought of at first.

Of course, he could just ask Harry.

"Hey, Harry?"

Harry had just walked in to the fifth years' boys' dorm from Quidditch practice. He was muddy. He was tired. His bones ached, and he still had homework.

Oh, and Hermione had glared at him across the common room, before pointedly walking over to sit right next to George, grabbing his arm. Things were not happy in Harry's world.

"What is it, Ron..." He tried not to sound too exasperated, but that was difficult. Not that Ron really noticed, anyway.

"You and Hermione, well... you both seem awfully quiet lately..." Harry stiffened, trying to think of a quick excuse. If he told Ron that he and Hermione were fighting, he'd have to say why, and he didn't relish Ron's response to *that* whole mess.

"Er...well, you know, we've...we've been concentrating on our homework a lot. OWLs coming up and all, exhausted our conversation skills..."

"Oh. I suppose that's true... Merlin, I still can't believe how much homework McGonagall gave us today. I mean, we need breaks! We need relaxation!" Harry let out a sigh as Ron became quickly distracted by his own voice. One small comment from Harry, one giant issue flown right over Ron's head.

This left him partially to his own thoughts. He hadn't planned on yelling at Hermione like that. And he hadn't meant to say some of those things he said. But he still believed he was right about what he had mainly talked about, even if he could have worded it better. And he'd be damned before he walked back up to Hermione and tried again. If she wanted to run off with George and hurt everyone, that was fine.

.... Oh, yea, that was really just convincing. Harry would surely believe himself now.

Harry let his head drop, falling face first onto his pillow.

"Yea, I know! What does she think we are, house-elves?"

*****

Hermione leaned against George's arm distractedly, no longer glaring now that Harry had left the common room. In her head, she was mulling over all the complicated thoughts that kept plaguing her.

Now that she had slept on it, and thought about it, she found it hard to be quite so angry with what Harry had said. He did have some points, she supposed. Like, she probably should have told Harry and Ron to begin with. And, now that she was thinking about it, she could recall a number of times where Ron would be looking at her funny, or attempting to stand up for her. And hadn't Ron gotten so upset about Victor? Sure, it was childish, but it was one way that people expressed affection. And... well, Ron did act childish most other times anyway, why not about this too?

And then there was that distressing little voice in the back of her mind that said that Harry was right about George as well. She wished she could take that little voice and throw it in the lake. But, no, it had to sit there and point out every time that she saw Fred and George in the hall, a group of girls around them laughing and giggling. George always looked absolutely ecstatic in a crowd... especially one of girls....

"Hermione... I think you're cutting off the circulation to my fingers,..." Hermione jolted up, turning to George. She hadn't noticed her increasingly tightened grip around George's arm; it almost looked like her nails might have bit into his skin a bit...

"Oh, George, I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking..." 'Or thinking too much,' her mind countered. 'Look, he looks so sweet now, and not at all angry. He wouldn't leave me.'

'Oh, he wouldn't? Hm, is that a bright and flashy Gryffindor gal I see walking by?'

'Quiet you.'

"Hermione?" George wondered vaguely what Hermione could possibly be thinking. One second she looks happy and grateful, the next she's scowling like Snape when asked when he last took a shower. (The twins still had a bet on this. George thought it couldn't be more than five weeks. Fred was less optimistic at two months.)

"George, I...would you -" Hermione was cut off, however, by the sound of yelling voices coming from the boys dorm. The common room was only sparingly occupied, but the few Gryffindors present exchanged glances, before eyeing the boys dorm again. Hermione hesitated a second, before making her way towards the stairway, George tailing right behind her, and Fred (who had been sitting there trying to ignore the little couple) a few reluctant steps behind them.

Hermione could hear Harry and Ron yelling before she made it to the top of the stairs.

"PERHAPS IF YOU WEREN'T SUCH A *MORON* YOU'D SEE!!!"

"A MORON AM I? AND WHERE DO YOU FIT INTO THIS? IT DOESN'T SEEM LIKE ANY OF YOUR BLOODY BUSINESS!"

"THEN STOP *MAKING* IT MINE!" Hermione opened the door to see Harry lifted on his arms from his previous position of lying face down on his bed, glaring over his shoulder as he yelled at Ron, all the way across the room, though you'd think he was across a Quidditch field the way he was yelling. Both looked mad enough to kill, and Hermione hadn't a clue what they were talking about as Harry continued to yell.

"EVERY DAY YOU TALK ABOUT HER, RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY FACE. YOU THINK I WANT TO HEAR THAT?!"

Or made she did have a slight clue...

"WHAT THE *HELL* ARE YOU ON ABOUT HARRY?!" Ron was standing by the window, red in the face and nearly shaking. It looked like a lot of effort was being used to keep him right there, rather than letting him rush forward and throttle Harry right there. Hermione supposed the only thing doing that was their near 5 years of friendship.

"'Harry, do you think Hermione prefers red, or blue?' 'Harry, do you think Hermione would like some cat toys for Crookshanks for Christmas?' 'Hey, Harry, which of these do you think Hermione would like?' Ron, you're BLOODY WELL OBSESSED! THERE ARE OTHER PEOPLE WHO CARE ABOUT YOU THAN HERMIONE!!!" Harry was glaring back at Ron, but Hermione could have sworn she saw something there, other than anger. It was like he wanted to say something, but just couldn't... something was stopping him....

Hermione let out a gasp as those clever neurons in her brain figured it out. Ron stared at her, eyes widening as he realized that they had company.

"I - Hermione, what..." he stared around helplessly before making his decision, and made for the quick exit. He ran into George at the doorway, but pushed passed him, only to run into Fred. After shoving away the mild deja-vu, he pushed past Fred too, and dashed out of the common room.

Hermione was still staring at Harry, who had glanced at her only once before dropping face first back onto his pillow.

"Er, Hermione, Ron just -" George began, but Hermione shushed him as a small smile alighted her face. She sat on the side of Harry's bed, wondering if she was right.

"Harry..." she began.

"Go away, Hermione," came the slightly irritated and very muffled reply.

"You know Harry, it wouldn't be anything to be ashamed of."

"... *Please* go away, Hermione."

"No, Harry, really, I think it's wonderful. And cute, too."

"Hermione, would you please -" Harry's muffled voice stopped abruptly, and he turned his head to stare at Hermione. "*Cute?*" Hermione nodded happily, and Harry dropped his head back to the pillow, mumbling something slightly offensive about girls and cuteness, though Hermione assured herself that he didn't mean it.

"So,... what'd I miss?" Fred asked his twin, watching Harry and Hermione. George shook his head.

"I haven't a clue..."