Two Can Play That Game

"Look, I don't know what's up with you and Malfoy," Harry spat out his name, "but, but... be careful," he stuttered. He didn't want to lose her.

"Harry, look this is how things are now...I'm with Draco," Hermione tried reasoning with him, which made him arch his eyebrow, stating that it was definitely not the way things are supposed to be.

The typical way things were supposed to be, meant them being together. When the Boy Who Lived was besotted with his notably smart best friend. That neither of them had any kind feelings towards his rival. They both knew this... even Hermione. She didn't want to accept it. Nope.

"Malfoy? Why Malfoy? Look, I know we're not on particularly good terms right now, but can't you see? This is Malfoy!!" he cried out frustrated, why couldn't she understand? This was Malfoy! The same one who terrorised them for God knows how long, the same one who probably hates her still... the same one who is probably up to something.

"Yes, I realise it is Malfoy, no need to repeat it again and again," she drawled, in a similar fashion which reminded him of a certain snide bastard,

"Look," he tried again, loudly sighing to himself, "I'm sorry. I don't know what made you so mad at me. I'm sorry. Please, I just don't want to see you get hurt. Please," he begged, offering her a smile he knew she couldn't resist.

You don't want me to get hurt??!? thought Hermione furiously. Bastard. Evil. Cold. Stupid. Ignorant. Poor, poor bastard. She melted. She couldn't withhold, she couldn't be angry with him like this. It was too much.

"It is none of your business anymore," Hermione replied icily.

"I'm sorry. Please. I really am. It just didn't work out." Harry's eyes pleaded, his smile persuading her.

Maybe it really isn't his fault...

Harry looked into her eyes, the familiar openness he often gazed into had glazed over. He looked into a reserve she had that was impenetrable. He could almost see himself through her. The cool and calm attitude, the unreadableness!

As if nothing affected her. As if she didn't care. As if he didn't affected her. As if she didn't care for him.

"You can't have it both ways," a voice nagged him inside. Harry sighed, trying to think why Hermione would be doing this. Could it be?

"Do you love him?" He asked, breaking the silence. The question caught her off guard and Harry saw the confusion, almost adrift, expression that disappeared as quickly as it came. He saw her face harden again. "Please, Hermione. Tell me the truth. It's all I want."

Looking into her friend, and someone who was once significantly more, she could see he was truly worried. She could see he was only truly wanting the best for her.

He wasn't lying, Hermione could tell. Harry's nose always twitched slightly, in a very subtle way, where - if you knew him well enough - you could tell if he was trying, yes, trying, to be devious.

"Do I love him?" Hermione repeated, not really thinking about it before now. He stared at her; she was actually thinking about it. This can't be. "No."

Relief flooded over Harry as he realised he had been holding his breath.

"I don't hate him, if that's what you also mean. I mean, he's a Slytherin Harry. I don't think... love is a very powerful word. I... respect him." Hermione tried to explain. It was so pleasant having someone to confide in, and she momentarily forgot her bitterness towards him.

"You don't love him... but you don't hate him?" Harry confirmed. He wasn't sure if he was relieved or not.

"Really, Harry! Yes. I guess that's it. He's really not that bad. I could definitely live with him," Hermione supposed. Harry didn't like the way things were going.

"If you were to fall, like off Gryffindor Tower; would you trust him to catch you?" Harry regretted asking her. Hermione smiled slightly,

"He would never go near the Gryffindor Tower, so I don't know," Hermione concluded.

Was that a no? Harry was anxious to know if the love of his life was about to slip away. What did she mean by 'she could live with him'? Was she planning something?

"Right..." Harry tried to pull his thoughts together. Hermione continued to smile at him, totally forgetting herself.

She missed him.

He moved to hug her, but she pulled away. Reality suddenly hit her. Harry. Ginny. Draco

"Uh... I gotta get to class...Herbology. Talk to you tomorrow," she uttered, not believing how easily she had forgotten.

Was she going to take him back?

No. She wanted to assure herself. She was just toying with him. Like he toyed with her.

No. She wanted to assure herself. She didn't want him. Like he didn't want her.

Harry grabbed onto her arm, but she yanked it away and he just watched her leave. Unmoving as he stared at her exit, he wondered just what he had given away. Just what he couldn't forget.

And just why it had to be done.

---

Hermione woke up to find it was a perfectly ordinary day with a perfectly normal routine... until breakfast.

She entered the Great Hall to find she was just in time for the owls to flutter in littered with assorted Valentine's items: chocolate, cards, charmed hearts and many more. Lavender and Parvati were drowned in gifts; about fifty or more cards to be precise.

Ginny, to Hermione's delight, got nothing.

After she began observing what her various housemates received, she noticed she had three Valentines for her.

One was a lovely card, all red and adorned with golden ribbons. She opened it, wondering who it was from.

Hey!

Happy Valentines Day, Herms!

our Best Friend,

Ron

It was nice. Very nice. Especially since she's been treating him like less than shit. She felt ashamed she had forgotten about such an event, how she did remember but dismissed the idea of getting cards and everything for later... she didn't even send a single one...

The second one was a plain red card, too plain, she thought to herself. She opened it quite unwilling;

Happy Valentines Day Hermione,

I love you.

Forever your devoted friend,

Harry

That was horrible. Very Horrible. First he interferes with her revenge, now he sent a Valentines card saying... lying.

She hurriedly picked up the third, last and most magnificent card of the three. Actually, in her opinion, it was the best one she'd seen so far.

Out of all the Gryffindors.

It was red, and adorned with Silver. She believed it looked like real silver. It added an expensive... sophisticated style to it. A uniqueness that, wow, it looked amazing. She eagerly opened it after carefully studying the cover,

Happy Valentine's Day!

Rather disappointed that this was all the card said, Hermione flipped it over searching for unneeded clues of who this card was from.

Once again she felt a burning pang of shame, for totally forgetting such event and glanced towards Draco. Wow.

Draco was plunged into a diving pool of cards; Lavender's mere cards were like a puddle compared to Draco. Seriously by diving pool, it stood for like hundreds (- yes plural -) of cards. Wow.

He was dismissing the cards, chucking handfuls at a time as if searching for something in particular. Hermione blushed, in hope that he was looking for hers; but flushed even deeper knowing it wasn't there.

Ron and Harry entered the Great Hall, not surprisingly late like usual. Ron got a few and smiled warmly at Hermione. Harry got a diving pool of cards. They were the two people who got the most cards. Even Pansy didn't get as many as Draco or Harry. Wow.

Harry too was chucking handfuls of cards and gifts, as if searching for something in particular...from someone in particular.

Probably trying to find Ginny's gift, thought Hermione darkly to herself. She never once considered it strange that Harry didn't send Ginny a card.

---

"Hey! Wait up!" Harry scurried after Hermione as she left for her first class, "Can we...talk? I wanted to find you in the commons last night, but you just shot right upstairs! Spare me a minute?" he asked, with his Nobel Smile That Can Make Anybody Do Anything... especially Hermione, Merlin how she fell for that smile.

"Um, sure, can you make it quick; I've got to get to class," she agreed, moaning inside after she had. It was a habit; she always fell for anything he did and probably always will.

She enjoyed their talk yesterday, no matter how awkward it was at first. She wasn't supposed to. She hated herself for it; it was a very bad habit.

Bad habits die hard.

"Sure, uh, just stop for a moment." He guided her into a corner, before slipping them both into an empty room.

There were no chairs, no desks, no furniture. Somehow, this didn't strike the two as odd.

"Did you get my card?" he asked,

"Yes," she answered, not knowing where this was going. She didn't really like it, but didn't have the heart to be impudent and confess her opinions.

Even a Gryffindor wouldn't have the courage to tell him that.

Just look in his eyes...

"I meant... every word," he stated,

"It was nice," she began, as he flashed another one of his smiles,

"I was just wondering... about yesterday," Harry bought up. "Did you mean it?"

"Mean what?" Hermione asked,

"About... Draco." He hated the name.

"Yes."

"You mean..." Harry replied aspirated. How could she? "You don't hate him? That you actually feel some sort of... nice feeling towards the git?"

"Yes." She smiled warmly at him, "Why would I be going out with him if I didn't?" she replied innocently,

"It just... I..." Harry didn't know.

It wasn't his place to intrude. It never should've been. Even if she...

No.

She doesn't.

She can't.

"He's a Slytherin." Harry couldn't help but remind her,

"I respect him." Hermione nodded.

"Anymore?" Harry asked.

"No. I can live with him, if that's what you mean," Hermione reminded him. "I'm happy."

"Don't settle for the git you can live with. Go for the one you can't live without." Harry whispered.

"I'm happy, Harry." Hermione stepped closer to her friend for so long. Why had she even gotten involved with the Slytherin? He turned to meet her gaze, a twinkle in his eye, not made from happiness. "I accept him." If Harry was happy with Ginny, it can't be helped. Their voices were below a whisper. As if confiding in each other was forbidden.

"You don't love him?" Harry asked, knowing he shouldn't. Knowing he should go back to Ginny for Hermione's sake. Knowing he could live with Ginny. Knowing he couldn't live without Hermione.

"No." Hermione finally replied. "No, Love is... too strong."

Unable to resist any longer. He gathered her in his arms, smelling the scent of her skin.

This is wrong.

Why was he doing this? Harry turned away, giving her the opportunity to flee out the door. He had no right, he could never offer her anything.

She began thinking of Draco. How he offered her so much more than a promising smile. How he... a kiss was like a fingerprint, Harry's and Draco's were totally different.

A realisation dawned on her.

Where Harry had smiled at her, Draco scooped her up and adorned her with playful Hugs and Kisses.

Where Harry had the acceptance of their house already, Draco fought - I think - for his.

Where Harry whispered promises in her ear, Draco took action bringing her imagination to life but never said or promised anything.

Imagining Draco doing all these things, she almost didn't notice him, as if dismissing the figure as part of her imagination.

She stared, to her dismay, at Draco who stood in the doorframe; in his hand was a dark red rose, which should've been for her.