Triangulate

Cormac blinked several times, opened his mouth and then closed it twice before replying.

“Me? Spreading those rumors about you?”

Cormac furrowed his brows. “No, I don’t want people thinking my girl is a floozy. Why would I do that?”

Hermione felt her shoulders relax. “The girls at that party Ginny went to said so.” Her eyes were aflame.

“Absolutely not,” Cormac said, laughing. “We’ve barely been together. And Granger?” he asked, pulling her into a hug and kissing her atop her bushy brown mane.

“Yes?” Hermione asked, blinking up at him.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m in it for the long haul,” he said, kissing her again.

“Hello?!” a Hufflepuff girl snapped, banging her fist on the table. “Some of us are trying to work here?”

The rest of her posse gave Hermione and Cormac such an odious look the couple burst into giggles and ran out of the library. They were still giddy with laughter once they were in the corridors.

“I’m going to become persona non grata in my favorite place in the castle because of you,” Hermione accused, eyes tingling with humor.

Cormac ran a hand through his thick blond hair, laughing. “Well, since we can’t make out in the library, I’d say it’s not such a loss.”

“Gross,” Hermione said, grimacing.

“Hey, ‘Mione, I’m sorry,” Cormac said, drawing her into a hug. “You’re just so damn hot.”

Hermione tensed. Wasn’t there supposed to be more substance to relationships?

Suddenly, she saw Harry at the end of the corridor; he looked like Hades, eyes dark and lips pressed together in an expression of barely subdued fury. Knowing the ups and downs (to say the last) his relationship was undergoing, Hermione thought it most polite to jump away from Cormac, not flaunt it in front of someone who was going through it.

“Hey, Harry,” she said, rushing over to him. “How are you?”

Harry didn’t even glance at Cormac. “I’m trying to find Ginny,” he said, sparing Cormac a glance finally. “Have either of you seen him?”

Cormac snorted. “I’m so sorry, bro. You deserve better.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Harry snapped.

“Oh,” Cormac said, his lips parting in surprise. “He doesn’t… he didn’t… I’d better stay out of this,” he added, raising his arms as though surrendering.

“What the hell is he going on about?” Harry asked, turning to Hermione.

Hermione opened her mouth to reply but only a guttural sound came out, like roadkill dying. “I… I heard you guys had a fight. Ginny thought you guys broke up. I think.” Her heart was beating furiously against her ribcage. Months ago, she’d have given anything for this exact scenario to play out. Now, she was wrecked with guilt, most of all because she no longer wanted him.

“Yeah, I don’t know what’s gotten into her,” Harry said. “I heard she kissed someone else…?”

Hermione took a deep breath.

“What?” Harry snapped.

“I… I think you’d better find Ginny,” she said.

“She was very drunk. She doesn’t remember,” Hermione stammered.

Harry’s entire face turned red, and his fists clenched. Hermione felt her heartbeat accelerate.

“It could have been Avery James. She’s also a redhead and she was at that party.” Cormac said, stepping in, and Hermione felt her chest fill with gratitude for taking this monumental weight off her shoulders. He put a shoulder around Hermione’s chest; when her eyes met Harry’s, burning with an intense emotion she could not decipher, she averted her gaze, shame-faced. Was it rude to be in love in front of someone who had their heart broken? It was a strange twist of fate: her heart had just mended and theirs had shattered.

“What would you know?” Harry snapped. “Were you there?”

“I don’t go out anymore,” Cormac said, “I’m a taken man now. Only with my lady.”

Hermione thought she might have gagged were they not dating.

Harry gave Hermione a look that suggested she was a fool for putting up with Cormac’s nonsense. Hermione wondered if she was, desperate and lonely, like a middle-aged cat lady, because she had even reached that age. Because if it wasn’t for Cormac, she didn’t know who she’d be with. She wasn’t Ginny, who had to swat men away like flies. She was the best friend turned girlfriend, not the dream girl. Well, not until Cormac had walked in…

“Alright,” Harry said. “I’ll see you later, Hermione. McLaggen.”

Cormac whistled when Harry was off. “I guess I’m off the team for good now.”

“Shut up!” Hermione said. “Harry wouldn’t do something like that.”

“I think he likes you, Hermione,” Cormac said. “And I don’t like that.”

Hermione snapped his hand away. “Harry has been my friend since we were 11. We grew up together, fought Voldemort and his Death Eaters together. Of course he likes me. I am his friend.”

“That’s not what I meant, Hermione.”

“I don’t care what you meant. I don’t like the way you act around him. This bizarre low-key competition, the snide remarks, the sarcasm.”

Cormac blinked. “Well, Hermione, I don’t like when other guys like my girlfriend. You’ve seen what can happen. Your friend Ginny is a shining example.”

“Leave Ginny out of this,” Hermione snapped, closing the distance between them and jamming a finger against his chest like Molly would when disciplining one of the twins. “She made one mistake. One. I don’t care about the other rumors you’ve heard; they’re just that, rumors, like us having sex. Ginny would have told me if she’d done what your friend pretends she had. She tells me everything. And she’s not like that. And whoever kissed her shouldn’t have taken advantage of a drunk, brokenhearted girl. If you don’t defend her and him against the rumors, I want nothing to do with you.”

“So, I’ll always come second place, is that it?”

“My friends are everything to me. If you don’t like my friends, I don’t think you like me for the right reasons.”

Without another word, Hermione left him there.

*

            Hermione found Harry in his room, smoking on the windowsill, the chilly winter wind blowing into the room. Harry didn’t seem affected by it; if anything, it seemed to anchor him into reality. Hermione knew he must have been suffering.

            “Harry… we’ve been looking for you. Are you OK?”

            Harry took an agonizingly long time before he deigned to acknowledge her presence. “Why should I be upset, Hermione?”

            “Ginny… the whole thing… I…”

            “I took it as a breakup, too. She didn’t cheat on me. Not really. But the swiftness with which she moved on… I’m not sure I want to see her face right now.”

            “Well… if it’s any consolation, Ron’s furious with her, and Ginny is inconsolable. You are everything to her.”

            Harry snorted, taking another drag. “Tell that to the guy whose throat she stuck down her tongue last night.”

            Hermione was so close to tearing her hair out in frustration. Why were boys like this?

            “She was heartbroken and drunk! Have you never done anything bad in your life that you regretted? She wants to marry you, Harry!”

            “And you?” Harry asked.

            “That’s why Ron’s so mad at her, he said she acted like a total idiot – huh? What about me?” It took Hermione’s impassioned mind a few seconds for Harry’s question to register.

            “What do you think? Do you think me and Ginny are a good couple?”

            Hermione shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “I… It doesn’t matter what I think. It matters what you FEEL, Harry.”

            Harry threw the cigarette butt out the window before lighting up again. Hermione glanced at the half-empty packet on his nightstand, right next to the windowsill.

            “Uh… Harry? How many have you smoked so far?”

            “Not fucking enough,” Harry sighed.

            “I think it’s been enough,” Hermione said, marching to take the cigarette and the lighter out of Harry’s hands. Harry held on; the cigarette snapped in two. When their skin made contact, Hermione’s heart began beating twice as fast. She could barely breathe when their eyes met, green and brown. “I… I…” she stammered. When she tried to step back, Harry tightened his grip on her hands, letting the cigarette fall to the floor. Hermione felt blood rush to her cheeks at the indecency of the emotions his proximity roused within her. She was supposed to be over this, in love with her boyfriend…

            “Why don’t you join me in my downward spiral?” Harry asked. “Instead of playing the Goodie Two Shoes. We know that’s not how you really are, anyway.”

            “What?”

            “Good girls don’t imprison journalists like Rita Skeeter in their bug form. They don’t keep their secret of being an Animagus but report it to the authorities. And that’s just one example. You’re so much more than you pretend to be, Hermione.”

            The intensity of his gaze was unnerving.

            “Harry… please let me go. I have a boyfriend.”

            “And where is he?”

            “…Somewhere.” Hermione said, realizing not only did she not know, she did not care.

            “Do you even care?”

            “Harry…”

            “Answer me, Hermione.”

            “Harry, please…”

            He’d let her hand go. She had no good reason to stick around, but she still did. He was her friend.

            “Look at me when I’m talking to you, Hermione.”

            Hermione did. She was under his spell. The closer he was, the stronger his magic was on her. He was more potent than an Imperius curse. When she did, she felt tears form in her eyes. She was powerless against him.

            “What is it, Hermione? Why are you crying?” he asked, gently touching her palm. It spent frissons down her spine. She felt a tear roll down her cheeks. She was betraying him, Ginny, Ron, their entire friend group – and her own self. She could not do this.

            “We hadn’t spoken like this in months, Harry,” she said. “It’s… it’s…”

            Harry got off the windowsill, closed the distance between them. On his lips a self-assured smile was playing, even if remnants of past hurts lingered in his emerald eyes. He raised a hand to her cheeks, caressed it, brushed off a teardrop.

            “Please, don’t do this,” Hermione begged.

            “Why? Everything’s already ruined. The friend group’s fucked after everything that’s already happened. If I’m going to hell, I might as well do it thoroughly, don’t you think?”

            “Is this about… getting back at Ginny?” Hermione felt her heart drop. From the highest of highs to the lowest of lows.

            Harry laced his fingers through hers. Hermione closed her eyes as a prisoner being dragged to the gallows. She knew she was done for.

            “No,” he said. “This is about doing what I should have done in the beginning of fourth year, when I realized I was in love with you.”

            Without another word, he leaned forward to kiss her…