CHAPTER THREE
"A blush here and there in the wind; a voice here and there claiming love."
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Okay, Harry was slow. He knew that, he also knew that when his dear bushy haired friend Hermione got something in her mind she would stick to that something.
Normally (and by normally we mean in normal circumstances) Harry would ignore her and keep on living his life like nothing was going on.
But this was not normally because it not only included him, but also his secret admirer who Harry was maybe or maybe not falling in love with. (Emphasize maybe or maybe not.)
And yes, while he was very slow and dense Harry also knew that half the school (maybe more) knew who his secret admirer was. They had been giving subtle hints and yet still Harry didn't figure it out. (It was getting fucking irritating, really)
Many times the young, dense Gryffindor had approached his smart friend Hermione and as she had put it, "... you have to figure it all by yourself Harry. Just open your eyes more and you'll see better. It's all about tradition in this and you have to figure it out by yourself while the rest of the school throw you hints..."
She had gone on and on about it, but Harry being Harry was quite annoyed with the fact that everyone knew (except him and the Slytherins -thank Merlin for the Slytherins!)
What the fuck did she mean by opening his eyes and he'll see better? What kind of bullocks was that, hello Hermione 101 yeah uh Harry happens to wear glasses for a bloody reason? And for Merlin's sake! What is this about traditions and shit?! No, no!
And Harry didn't accept the fact that while the whole school knew (mind the Slytherins and him of course) even teachers, he really couldn't get past the fact that his best mate, Ron Weasley, knew it before everyone else.
That was just no, because your best friend that is a more of an idiot than you can not know something like this before you. It's just against everything! (Harry, stop being melodramatic for fuck's sake! You're sounding like Malfoy now! -Shut up Ron!)
This was not how Harry had planned and visualized his last year at Hogwarts. No it fucking was not.
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Annoyed was the understatement of the century, century, to how Harry was currently feeling with the rest of the school (except the Slytherins much to his surprise).
It had been just the first week of November when Harry found out that Hermione knew exactly who his secret admirer was. And do you know what his dear beloved muggle born friend did? Do you, yes, no?
"Sorry Harry, but you have to figure it all by yourself you know. Just open your eyes more and you'll see better. It's all about tradition in this and you have to figure it out by yourself while the rest of the school throw you hints. So you're on your own on this one Harry."
Harry had of course thrown a huge fit and went to complain to his best friend Ron about how his girlfriend was a no good, fun, helping friend. And you know what his best mate, the one who was even more dense than Harry, said?!
"Mate, I knew who it was the minute I read the first letter."
Oh Harry was piss, yes he very fucking was. Because no matter how much he begged (and oh how he had begged) his supposed friend went into a detail discussion about Malfoy's eyes.
