Title: Ravenclaws Are Boring

Author: Amethyst

Author E-mail:

Category: Romance (aka Goo)

Keywords: Harry, Hermione, jealousy, Terry Boot

Rating: PG

Spoilers: Er…I guess there's a fifth book spoiler. But, otherwise, it doesn't spoil anything unless you haven't read any of the books, in which case, you really shouldn't be reading fanfiction.

Summary: Hermione talks to other boys and it makes Harry jealous. Oh dear. I'm sure you'll never guess where this one's going… (sarcasm rally over there)

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Author's Note: This is a one shot. Meaning there will be no sequel. Mmmk? And, yes, I know, the title's random. shrug Oh, and apologies to the Ravenclaws out there getting all offended by the title.


Harry couldn't explain it, but something about watching Hermione talk to Terry Boot made him want to punch the guy. It was a very strange, irrational thing to feel; this had never bothered him before, and he couldn't understand why he was feeling this way now. He'd never had a problem with Terry.

Hermione laughed, and it seemed to shatter him. She didn't laugh much with him anymore. Was he not as funny as Terry Boot? How could the Ravenclaw be funnier than he was? Ravenclaws were boring.

Hermione happened to glance over Terry's shoulder and spotted Harry across the library. She grinned and waved at him. His heart did a somersault.

Hermione said goodbye to Terry and walked over to where Harry was sitting. He pretended to be reading instead of watching her.

"Harry, your book is upside down."

He looked up, then glanced down, and then looked back to her. "Oh...so it is."

"Harry, are you all right? You looked a little...off, I suppose, when I was talking to Terry."

He forced a smile. "I'm fine. Just a little out of it today, I guess."

Hermione sat down beside him, heaving her book bag onto the table. "Have you been sleeping all right, Harry? You seem tired."

"Um, yeah, I've been sleeping all right." He pretended to read again.

"Harry, your book is still upside down."

"Er...yeah, like I said, I'm a little out of it," Harry said, blushing, as he turned his book around.

"Is there something on your mind? Something you want to talk about?"

Harry hesitated. If he talked to her about it, she might realize that he was talking about her. Then again, if he didn't talk to her about it now, he probably wouldn't have a better opportunity to do so…and the best way to find out what to do about her would be to ask her, obviously… "Well...there's...there's this problem I've been having. There's...this girl. And I think I might like her. But I'm not sure."

"Well…are you attracted to her? Do you think she's pretty?"

"Of course. She's beautiful."

"Do you enjoy spending time with her?"

"Yeah."

"Does she make you happy?"

"Yeah."

"Do you think about her often?"

"All the time."

Hermione sighed. "Then what aren't you sure about? You obviously like her a lot."

Harry frowned. "What should I do about it, then?"

She rolled her eyes. "Tell her, obviously."

Harry's eyes went wide. "Tell her? Just like that? But what if she doesn't like me? What if she finds out and she never wants to speak to me again?"

"Honestly, Harry, you're too adorable for any girl to resist you. She'll still speak to you as long as you don't let it become awkward."

Harry wasn't satisfied. "Are you sure? Would you want to know – would you still speak to me?"

"Don't be stupid, Harry. Of course I would."

Harry stared at his still-upside-down-book pensively. "How should I tell her?"

"Well, opening your mouth and saying it usually does the trick."

Harry scowled. "You know what I mean."

Hermione sighed. "If you really want to impress this girl, tell her in a way that's unique to her – do something special that she would really appreciate. Something she would really like." She turned to her school work then, muttering something about a book that would make Potions homework ten times easier.

Harry smiled to himself. He knew exactly what to do.

When Hermione woke the next Saturday, she was greeted automatically with shock. At the foot of her bed sat a pile of books, all obviously brand new, covers gleaming. There had to be at least ten there, possibly more – and considering the price of hardback books, they must have cost a fortune.

Taped to the cover of one was a note.

Dear Hermione,

I wanted to follow your advice and do something you would really like, so I decided to buy every book I could remember you mentioning wanting this year. Hope I didn't miss any.

As I'm sure you've already figured out, I like you, Hermione, and since you said, if it was you, that you'd still speak to me, I'm going to hold you to that.

If you don't feel the same way, I understand. I don't really expect you to. I'm not particularly smart or funny or fun to be around, I know. I just thought it was worth a try, I guess.

I'll be waiting for you in the Room of Requirement. Please meet me there and tell me, either way.

Harry

After waiting in the Room of Requirement for two full hours after leaving the books in Hermione's room, Harry was starting to get a little nervous. It didn't help that the room was making him more than a little uncomfortable. He'd merely asked for 'a place to meet Hermione,' and he thought the Room had quite a different view of what that was than he did. The Room had thought quite a few more roses were in order than Harry would have opted for. It had also seemed to think a very large, squishy red sofa would be useful; Harry thought the Room was getting a bit carried away.

He squirmed, sitting on the squishy red sofa. What could be keeping Hermione? He knew she got up right around seven o'clock every morning, even on Saturdays, and he'd flown into her room and dropped them off at six. Surely she'd found them by now…

Just as Harry made up his mind to go look for her, the door opened, and Hermione walked in. As he stood to greet her, Harry realized what had taken her so long – she was wearing make-up. He hadn't known that she even owned any…

He wondered what the make-up meant. Perhaps it meant she liked him as well. Or maybe she thought he would feel somehow better about being rejected if she looked especially pretty as he did it…but that wasn't very logical, and Hermione was a logical person. …Or maybe she was just planning to meet Terry later and wanted to look good for him. Harry had a hard time not scowling at the thought.

Luckily, Hermione did not let him wonder long. The door had hardly shut behind her before she quite literally ran across the room and threw her arms around him.

"Hermione…? This does mean what I think it means, doesn't it?"

She laughed and kissed him on the cheek. He felt his face flush.

"Of course it does. Didn't I tell you that you're too adorable for any girl to resist?"

Harry blushed. "Well…you're not just any girl."

Hermione blushed this time. "I can't believe you bought me all those books. …I can't believe you remembered all of them. I don't even remember mentioning some of them."

"I guess I thought buying more would give me a better chance," he replied sheepishly.

Hermione smiled. "You didn't have to buy me anything; you already had me."

"…I did?"

"Yes, of course! Do you know how jealous I was when you told me you liked a girl? I was terribly tempted to give you bad advice just to keep whomever it was away from you."

Harry blinked. "Do you know how jealous I was just before that when I saw you talking to Terry Boot?"

Hermione laughed. "Terry Boot? Oh, please, Harry, that would never happen. He's got the personality of a rock."

Harry snorted. "That boring, eh?"

Hermione nodded. "That boring. Besides…nothing can compare to what I have with you, after all that we've been through together…nobody else could understand…"

Harry's throat felt suddenly tight as he realized that, indeed, nobody else could understand…no one in the world could possibly understand him the way that she did…she was, in all probability, the only one for him…. "Yes…I know how you feel."

They stood in silence for a moment – still embracing, before Hermione spoke.

"Harry…what's with all the roses?"

Harry couldn't help grinning. "I was wondering the same thing earlier…I suppose the Room thought they were needed."

"And what about the sofa?" Hermione smirked. "Did the Room come up with that one, too?"

"Yes, it did," Harry said defensively. "I wasn't exactly planning to use it."

"Oh? And what about now?" she asked, releasing him to take a seat on the aforementioned sofa. "Think it might be useful?"

Harry gaped at her. "You tell me."

She laughed, pulled him down beside her, and proceeded to show him exactly what she thought about it.

Fin