14- Mistakes and Misery

Standard disclaimer goes here.

Author's Note: Heed the warning in the summary... here there be angst. Hope it doesn't drive anyone away! It'll only last so long... :) Cheers!

p.s. Thanks to SnivellusSnape, Laela, and Horserider for their help!

Chapter 14- Mistakes and Misery

"Bugger me! Hermione, are you all right?"

Hermione flopped to one side, sitting on the floor and looking at her scraped palms and knees. She glanced up to see Harry's head and shoulders hovering near her. Tears pricked her eyelids in reaction to the pain in her hands and knees and the frustration in her body and heart.

Harry saw the tears welling up and went white. Hastily he whipped the rest of his Invisibility Cloak off and shoved an end into his pocket, reaching for Hermione. He wrapped his arm behind her shoulders and gently supported her so she could stand. Limping, she opened her door, and Harry guided her to sit on the edge of the bed. He knelt in front of her, carefully examining the abrasions, and looked up when he heard her sniffle. "Oh, 'Mione, I'm so sorry. This is my fault. Hang on, and I'll help make things better." He gingerly patted her forearm and rushed into her bathroom, wetting a flannel with cold water and grabbing a handkerchief from her bureau.

Gazing at her with huge green eyes full of worry and shame, he handed her the handkerchief and knelt again to press the cold, wet cloth to her knee. She gasped and then wiped her eyes and nose. Tears kept slipping over her lids, even though she wasn't sobbing. Harry soothed one knee and moved to the other, then he took her hands in his and bathed them. Once they were clean, he took out his wand and murmured a charm to seal the wound from infection. The raw skin knitted back together, but the area was still red and swollen. He repeated the process for all of her scrapes.

Hermione remained silent for the duration of Harry's ministrations. She was still on tilt from being so abruptly thrown from the classroom after such an amazing kiss with Snape. Her body throbbed and her mind was roiling with sensations and emotions. Dazedly, she looked down at Harry, who was staring at her, anxious.

"Hermione, I'm so sorry. I just... Well, I didn't know how long you might be at detention and I wanted to talk to you so much. So, I thought I'd wait for you. And I didn't want anyone to question me, so I just used the cloak. I wasn't trying to hurt you! I had dozed off, and you just slammed into me. Are you okay? Please don't cry. I'm so sorry..."

He was lightly stroking her palms, smoothing the newly-healed skin. As he trailed off, he clasped her hand in his and lifted it to his face, rubbing his cheek against it and then turning to kiss it softly.

Hermione's heightened senses reacted to that soft brush of lips by sending a shiver down her spine. Harry felt it and looked up at her, bewildered. Never looking away, he lifted her other hand and kissed it. Hermione's breath caught. Her mind was screaming that this was not the man she wanted, but her body didn't seem to care. It was burning with need, and it was revelling in the sensations Harry's tender kisses evoked.

Harry saw her eyes, the pupils already dilated, and felt his stomach flip. He dragged his fingertips over her palm and laced his fingers with hers. Then he released her hand and brought it to his lips again, covering the abused palm with light kisses before crowning the tip of each finger with a soft, moist kiss.

Hermione's eyes fluttered closed and her breathing quickened. She was therefore surprised to feel Harry's gentle kisses on her knee. His hands lightly grazed along her calf, tickling behind her knee, as he grasped her knee to hold it in place while he covered it with hot, breathy kisses. Hermione gasped at the sensation of his warm wet tongue laving the battered skin. Harry flicked a glance up at her, his eyes crackling with desire. Hermione sighed as his hands slid over her knee and up her thigh, under the hem of her uniform skirt. The tingle it produced just added to the hot, wet puddle spreading in her knickers.

Harry felt his heart beating wildly. His breathing was getting ragged and he thought his cock might burst out of his trousers. He was beyond wondering why she had been running to her room, already so obviously upset. His hormones had taken over and all he could think about was how much he wanted her.

Hermione's legs involuntarily relaxed and spread a bit wider. Harry's hands slid further up her thighs, caressing her, both soothing and inflaming her. He crept forward between her knees and covered each newly exposed inch of smooth thigh with kisses and licks and nibbles. His questing hands slowly wound their way higher, until he felt one finger lightly brush against her knickers. She jumped and gasped, and he felt a surge in his groin. Deliberately, slowly, so she could stop him if she wanted to, he dragged his hands up to her hips, at the crease where her legs disappeared into the soft material of her knickers.

Hermione squirmed. She kept her eyes closed, picturing Snape as the one kneeling between her legs, touching her, driving her mad with need. Her breathing was increasing in speed and harshness. She was so aroused, she knew she needed release. She felt like she was burning with desire.

Harry kept looking up, waiting for any signal to stop his approach, but her eyes were shut tight and her chest was heaving. Excited beyond belief, he slid his fingers along that crease of skin and fabric, his thumbs faintly grazing over the juncture in the centre. Again, Hermione jumped, her head falling backwards and her hands reaching behind her to support her body as she leant back, offering him easier access.

Harry gulped nervously and took a deep breath to calm himself and his straining erection. He pressed more firmly against the apex of her thighs and felt how hot and soaking wet her knickers were. He groaned and screwed his eyes shut in concentration to not come in his pants right then. Hermione hissed with appreciation of feeling his fingers against her sex. Harry swallowed nervously and gingerly pushed her skirt up, uncovering her legs and soaked knickers. He could smell the heady aroma of her arousal and his cock twitched.

He bent his head to kiss and lick along her thigh again as he let his fingers trail along the dark moist stain. When he felt her hips rocking, he shifted and covered her mound with his hand, pressing his fingertips against the hot centre of her sex through the fabric. She shuddered and rocked her hips against his hand. Harry squirmed up onto the bed to her right, his hand still cupping her, and slid his right leg over hers, pressing his erection into her thigh.

With a gasp, Hermione dropped to her back, flinging her arms over her eyes. Harry took the opportunity and dove down to kiss her throat, licking his way up her neck to her jaw, and nibbling along the edge of her jaw to her lips. When he let his lips cover hers, he was taken aback by her vehement response. She ruthlessly invaded his mouth with her tongue, stroking his. A surge went through him as she tangled her fingers in his hair and pressed him harder to her mouth.

Hermione moved her hips, grinding against Harry's hand, wanting more. Passionately kissing him, she lifted her free leg and placed her foot on the edge of the bed. Harry instantly responded by splaying his fingers to cover the widened expanse of damp cloth. Greatly daring, he dragged one finger along the elastic, tugging against it. His heart was hammering in his chest, afraid of what she might do.

Hermione felt him tentatively touching her and wanted more. She needed more. She needed someone to douse the flames that Snape lit within her. She moaned faintly into Harry's mouth. Taking that as a good sign, he slid one finger under the fabric, feeling her wet curls. Groaning, he buried his face in her neck, biting and sucking.

Panting, Hermione tilted her hips, encouraging him to explore farther. Needing no more urging, Harry yanked the cloth to one side and let his fingers slide through her slick curls, feeling the plump lips they covered. He thrust against her thigh, slipping his middle finger inside her.

Harry's senses were on overload. All he could hear was their panting; all he could see was Hermione's flushed face, eyes closed and mouth open; all he could smell was the scent of her sex; all he could taste was her intoxicating mouth; all he could feel was the hot, slippery wetness that enveloped his questing finger, making him want to feel it around his straining cock.

Hermione's nerves were buzzing with tension. She had never been so turned on before. She wanted to feel... everything... all over her. Silently, her body begged for release. She shamelessly bucked against Harry's hand, revelled in the feel of his hard cock pressed against her leg. When his finger slid into her tight channel, she nearly choked on her sudden gasp. She clamped her thighs tight around his hand, trapping it. Feeling the heat building, she ground against him. In turn, he thrust against her as well. Their frantic kissing stopped as all concentration focused on just the sensations between their legs.

Hermione's cheeks burned, and her mouth was going dry from her harsh breathing. She felt her muscles tensing all over. Harry felt the sweat dripping down his temple to land on her throat as he panted against her shoulder. The build-up seemed to last an eternity. Hermione finally reached her peak, straining against Harry, an inarticulate cry being wrenched from her throat. She trembled all over, shuddering in waves. Harry couldn't contain himself any longer at the sound of her orgasm and bucked against her, groaning, as he spent himself, the hot fluid spreading inside his pants.

Hermione rode the waves of bliss, finally released from her frustrated torment. As she spiralled down from ecstasy, she regained her senses. Abject horror and humiliation flooded her, chilling her overheated blood and almost stopping her racing heart. She felt Harry's panting breaths hot against her neck, and the wet warmth against her thigh that evidenced his climax. His fingers were still cupping her mound, lying against her bonelessly.

Oh gods, what have I done?

She felt her face pale, and her stomach clenched. Harry was still against her, his breathing slowing. She fought to keep back the tears that threatened again. Frantically thinking of what she could do to salvage the situation, she relaxed her legs, releasing the grip on Harry's hand, and gingerly reached down, barely tapping it where it still covered her. He started at her touch and hurriedly snatched his hand back. Hermione felt her cheeks burning...with embarrassment this time...and reached down to cover herself as unobtrusively as possible. In the meantime, Harry shifted his leg off hers and rolled onto his back, sitting up quickly. He agitatedly whispered a cleansing charm, embarrassed by the stain on his trousers. When they were once again clear, he sighed in relief.

In the moments following their climax, an awkward tension grew. Hermione couldn't look at Harry. She felt the nausea spinning in her stomach and hoped she could maintain composure at least until she had got rid of him. Harry didn't know what to think about the whole encounter, other than he wanted to try it again, hopefully with an even better outcome. He glanced at Hermione warily, and noticed that she looked even more upset than she had before they had... well, what would one call that? It wasn't sex exactly... Harry realized he could ponder the terminology later and tentatively reached over to take Hermione's hand.

She flinched.

Harry froze, frowning in confusion. He leant forward, trying to catch her eye. "'Mione?" His voice trembled with apprehension. He turned his body toward Hermione and grasped both of her hands. She hung her head, avoiding his gaze. His unease growing, he asked, "Hermione, what's wrong? Did I hurt you? Are you okay?"

Hermione shook her head and swallowed. She heard the fear in his voice, felt the tension in his grip, and knew she had to answer him. Taking a deep breath, she shook her head again and whispered, "No, you didn't hurt me. It's not that..."

Harry squeezed her hands and prodded, "Then what? Please, 'Mione, what's wrong?"

Forcing herself to look into his worried gaze, she grimaced and said, "This, Harry."

She saw the disbelieving glint in his eyes and knew he was refusing to understand her.

"What is 'this'? What are you talking about?"

Gently pulling her hands from his, she scooted away from him on the edge of the bed. "Us, Harry. I'm so sorry. I should never have let what just happened happen. I'm so sorry..." She cringed at the incredulous pain in his eyes.

"But... you said we could talk about it. We were going to talk about things tonight. So, let's talk. We have to talk about it!" His voice climbed in pitch and intensity as he rambled in his panic. His eyes were wide and the colour was draining from his face.

Hermione closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. Gods, this is so horrible! How could I have let this happen? Resolutely, in a low tone, she retorted, "Harry, I'm sorry. There's nothing to talk about. I just don't feel that way about you. You're one of my dearest friends, and I don't want to spoil that... and I'm afraid we already may have..." She looked at him with pleading eyes, begging him to understand.

He blinked, looking almost dazed. Then, colour returned to his face in the form of two bright spots burning on his cheeks. His eyes went hard and he pinned her with an accusing glare. In a deep, harsh voice, he bit out, "Then what in bloody hell was that? What we just did? You wanted me to do that! You didn't stop me! If you don't feel that way about me, then what the hell was that, Hermione?" His chest heaved as he got more upset. Hermione backed away, frightened by the anger welling up in Harry.

Eyes wide, tears once again spilling over the edges, Hermione gasped, "I don't know, Harry! I wish I could take it back, keep it from happening. I wasn't thinking! You're right, I didn't stop you, and I should have. It's my fault, Harry, not yours. I'm sorry!" She shot up off the bed and retreated to her desk, turning away from him, shoulders shaking.

Harry watched her move away, seething. Part of him hated seeing her cry and wanted to comfort her; part of him wanted to hurt her and make her feel as bad as he felt; and part of him wanted to do whatever it took to get back in her knickers again. Slowly, he stood and walked to the door. As he began to open it, Hermione whirled and cried, "Harry!"

Harry stood with his back to her, jaw clenching. He didn't answer her, but he paused, not moving. Hermione took a gulping breath and whispered, "Harry, please don't hate me. I'm so sorry! I don't want to lose my best friend over a mistake like this. Please, Harry..."

He stood silently for a moment more, then opened the door and walked out, shutting it firmly behind him. Hermione sank to the floor by her desk, dissolving into sobs, wondering if she had just lost her best friend for good.

******************************** **********************

Snape stood, frozen, until he was sure Hermione was gone, then collapsed into his chair, flinging his arms onto the desk and burying his head against them, his dark locks tumbling over his arms.

Merlin, it's too much. It's just too much!

He grappled with his body, forcing it to regain control, but only by what some would call a Herculean effort. He remained still, face buried in his arms, for a very long time. In that time, he replayed the evening over and over, scrutinizing every nuance of voice and body language, trying to determine beyond a shadow of a doubt what his true feelings were.

It was bad enough, he decided, that he had had such a physical reaction to the girl...Woman! said that voice inside him...but when he remembered sharing tea with her, and the caring, comfortable way she had prepared his cup, he realized that his feelings were more than just lustful.

They were serious.

The shock of his explosive feelings for her body was nothing compared to the shock of his deeper feelings for her as a woman. He hadn't felt that way for anyone since he was in school. Being a Death Eater didn't allow for sweet wooing.

Sadly, he thought back to his schooldays, when he fell for Lily Evans. He had wanted her so much, but James Potter snapped her up. Once Potter was in the picture, he never stood a chance. Even now, the bitter fury welled up, and his teeth clenched.

And now, he was falling for Hermione, and another bloody Potter was in the way. Harry. His minute desire to tolerate the boy for Lily's sake dwindled even more in the face of his jealousy over Harry's relationship with Hermione.

But she told him to go away! Don't forget that...

He felt a tiny surge of hope. But it was quickly squashed by, You're not in school any longer. And she is not a classmate. She is your student, and as such, you cannot pursue her! It doesn't matter how you feel. You are her teacher and she is off-limits!

A fresh wave of despair washed over him. Grimly, he set his jaw and took a deep breath. You've survived alone for this long; you'll manage. He stood and made his way to his quarters, once again wishing he had not made it through the Final Battle, so he would never have encountered this new misery.

In his burst of self-revelation and castigation, he never noticed that in his multiple replays of the evening, Hermione's feelings were quite clear too. Severus Snape was used to being miserable, and he could not readily accept that Hermione returned his feelings, so he never paid heed to the rapt light in her eyes that bespoke more than just respect for her elders.

Wallowing in his desolation, he flung himself into bed, dragging his pillow over his face and crossing his arms over it. It was the best way he knew to ignore the moisture that managed to sneak past his eyelids. Exhausted by the emotional train wreck that had ended his evening, he fell asleep, his damp pillow still pressed against his face.

********** *****************************************

Hermione slept poorly and woke up dreading the coming day. She dawdled in getting ready, not wanting to go to breakfast. She was actually sitting morosely on her bed, doing nothing, when there was a knock on her door. Warily, she pressed her ear against the wood and called out, "Who's there?"

"'Mione? It's me, Ginny. Are you coming to breakfast?"

Hermione exhaled in relief and opened the door. She grabbed Ginny's hand and pulled the surprised girl into the room, shutting the door behind them. Ginny took one look at Hermione's haggard appearance and was instantly concerned.

"Are you all right? What's wrong?"

Hermione flopped on her bed and shook her head. Ginny sat in front of Hermione and leant earnestly toward her friend. "Hermione, what happened?"

"Have you seen Harry yet today?" she asked in a low voice. Ginny shook her head "no," brow creased in confusion. Hermione took a deep breath and spilled the whole tale to Ginny, leaving out the reason why she was so aroused in the first place, of course. When she finished, she realized that it sounded even worse than it was, since she couldn't explain that she hadn't felt in control of her body after getting so worked up with Snape. She was afraid to look up at her friend, afraid that she'd hate her like Harry must. Finally, she raised her eyes to Ginny's.

Ginny looked completely gobsmacked. She was clearly trying to process the information. She blinked a few times and asked, slowly, "So, you just let him start things, encouraged him even, but then decided that you didn't like it?" She blinked again and looked at Hermione, disbelieving. Her voice whispery with horrified amazement, she continued, "You used him."

Hermione felt the tears well up again at the accusation. Desperately, she choked out, "Ginny! I didn't mean to lead him on. I had no idea it would feel so... wrong until it happened. I just don't feel that way about him after all. It just wasn't right, and I can't pretend it is. Wouldn't it be worse to lie to him and string him on even more, only to postpone the truth?"

Ginny narrowed her eyes and scowled in thought. Hermione knew that Ginny would be protective of Harry, especially in cases such as this, since they had had a relationship too. But, by appealing to her this way, trying to show her that she had hurt Harry only by trying to not hurt him more later, she hoped to win the girl to her side, and not lose another friend over her mistake.

The room was quiet. Hermione made one last plea. "I never meant to hurt Harry. I love him dearly. He's one of my closest friends! I just don't love him that way and I can't make myself do it, no matter how much he wants me to. I had no idea how awkward and wrong it would feel to be with him like that until it happened. I would never intentionally hurt him. I don't want him to hate me. I don't want any of you to hate me. I made a mistake, and I'm paying for it. Please, Ginny, I'm afraid I may have lost my best friend; I don't want to lose you too." She reached across the bed to grip Ginny's hands in hers. Ginny stared down at the hands covering hers.

After a few moments, she sighed and looked back up at Hermione. Her eyes held a mixture of anger and sadness and understanding. Finally, she squeezed Hermione's hands and said, "I don't hate you. I don't know if Harry does, but he's bound to be really hurt. I can't believe it happened like that, but I guess I can see where you're coming from. It still makes me angry to see Harry hurt, but you didn't mean to, so I can forgive you."

Hermione gasped, "I'm so glad! If he does hate me, would you... can you help him understand why I did it? I don't know if he'll listen to me, and he trusts you..." Her eyes begged eloquently. Ginny nodded grimly.

"I'll try. But I can't promise anything."

"I know, I know. Thank you so much. I don't know if I can face him at breakfast though. And Ron will surely know too. It's too humiliating..."

"Hmmm, I can see your point. Listen, how about I go down and bring you something before your first lesson? Maybe if you aren't there, it won't rile Harry any more, and I can test the waters."

"You'd do that for me? Yes, please! You're a life saver. I owe you one, Ginny..."

Ginny quirked a half-smile at Hermione and said, "I'll keep that in mind. I'll meet you outside your classroom at ten till." Hermione nodded vigorously. They stood, and Hermione impulsively hugged her friend, grateful for her understanding and her help.

"I'll be there. Thanks again, Ginny."

"That's what friends are for, 'Mione," Ginny said, as she shut the door behind her.

Feeling a little better, Hermione watched the time until she could go meet Ginny on her way to class.

*************** *****************************

Snape looked like death warmed over when he stomped into the Great Hall for breakfast. He tortured himself by waiting for Hermione, just so he could see her. As time wore on, and she didn't show, excruciating panic grew inside him.

There's bloody Potter and Weasley. Where is she? Potter looks dreadful this morning. Perhaps that's just the standard side effect of pining for Hermione... He snorted derisively at himself.

Breakfast would soon be over, and he would have to leave for his first lesson, and still Hermione hadn't shown up.

Gods, what have I done? She must be traumatized to not come to breakfast. Is she ill? Did she have a breakdown? I'm going mad... I have to know what happened to her!

He looked up to see Ginny Weasley dashing to the Gryffindor table. She served herself quickly, all the while having an intense, hushed conversation with her brother. They both looked at Harry, who was scowling at his plate. Ron muttered something back and Ginny's shoulders slumped as she began to eat. She had two full plates in front of her, and Snape was momentarily distracted by the thought of the petite girl eating that much food. He was still staring at her, eyes glazed over in thought, when she stealthily drew her wand and shrank the plate, covering it in a napkin. She surreptitiously glanced around and shoved it in her pocket. Then she went back to steadily eating from her remaining plate.

Snape blinked. He took a moment to determine what he had seen, and looked intently at the redhead. She made quick work of her breakfast, whispered a hurried aside to Ron, glanced at the time, and hastened from the Hall. Snape looked at the time. It was fifteen minutes till the first classes began.

It took a moment for him to figure things out, what with the mental torment he had inflicted upon himself. But his deductive skills concluded that Ginny was smuggling food to Hermione. And if she was doing that, Hermione must not want to come to breakfast. And she must not want to come to breakfast because she doesn't want to see someone.

Snape felt his own breakfast start to rise in his throat and swallowed quickly to keep it down. It's me. She doesn't want to see me after last night. Oh gods, how could I have let this happen?

Listlessly, he rose and made his way to his classroom, wishing he could just find a dark hole to crawl into and never come out. But, he had his duty, and he couldn't disappear. So, as always, he did what Severus Snape does best: persevere in the face of adversity.

************ **********************************

Hermione was reading the notice board over and over, waiting for Ginny before going in to lunch.

"All actors must report to the Great Hall Thursday at 7:00 p.m. for lessons with Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore in Transfiguration.

-A. Dumbledore, Director"

Finally, Ginny rounded the corner and swept up to Hermione. "I'm assuming they're already in there?"

Hermione nodded mutely. Glancing miserably at the doorway, she muttered, "I really appreciate you bringing me breakfast. And I know you said you didn't get a chance to try to talk to Harry. So, I was wondering if you might try again now. I can go to the library and wait for you there..." She ended on a rising note of hopeful entreaty.

Ginny thinned her lips and favoured Hermione with a hard look. But when she thought of how awful Harry looked and peered again at Hermione's eyes, puffy from crying, she sighed and caved in. "Fine. But you're going to have to see him sometime."

Hermione closed her eyes briefly and exhaled in relief. "Thanks, Gin. I don't know what I would do without you."

Ginny rolled her eyes in exasperation and shooed Hermione away. As she walked to the Gryffindor table, she muttered to herself, "The things I do for my friends..." She sat down beside Harry, nodding at Ron on his other side. Ron rolled his eyes heavenward and grimaced at her, indicating how bad he had it, dealing with Harry. She pursed her lips in acknowledgement and looked at Harry.

His hair was messier than usual, and there were dark smudges under his eyes. His expression was set in an unpleasant scowl. He stared sullenly at his plate, ignoring the others around him.

In an even tone, Ginny ventured, "Hello, Harry."

He didn't answer her. The only sign that he heard her was the throb of his skin over his jaw as he clenched his teeth. Gently, but determinedly, Ginny persisted. "You don't look so good. What's wrong?"

Harry frowned even more and growled, "Give over, Ginny. I know Hermione told you."

Firmly, she retorted, "Yes, she did. And you're not the only one who's upset. She's really torn up about it."

Barely turning his head so he could glare at her, Harry snarled back, "Oh, I'll bet. She led me on. She toyed with me. She humiliated me. And she's the one who's torn up about it. Nice try."

Ginny reached over and gripped his chin, yanking his head about to force him to look her in the eye. Harshly, she whispered, "Funny, I seem to remember a certain green-eyed saviour of the wizard world who cried when he told me our relationship was over when the war was. Seems he just didn't care for me that way. I was hurt at the time. And you felt bad about it. I forgave you. How different is this, Harry? We got past it. So can you. She's afraid she's lost her best friend. Has she? Or are you one of those who can dish it out but can't take it?" She paused for effect, boring her stern gaze into his stunned one. "Think carefully, my friend. Is one mistake worth over six years of friendship?" She snapped her hand from his chin and busied herself preparing another plate for Hermione. Harry stared at her, dumbfounded.

When she had shrunk the plate, she fixed another. Ron was rubbing the back of his neck, hoping that his sister's bold tactics had had the desired effect. Shrinking the second plate, Ginny haughtily glanced back at them, saying, "If you'll excuse me, I think I'll go eat lunch with my friend." With that, she stood and swept from the Hall.

Harry stared after her. Ron kept his mouth shut, afraid that if he opened it, he'd undo whatever Ginny might have done. He knew from experience that her lectures had a wicked sting, and they could really make a man think. He guessed it was a skill she had to develop in self-defence, living with so many brothers. As he grew older, he found it was a trait that he actually admired in her, and he took care not to incite it.

Harry stared off into space for awhile, then he abruptly got up and disappeared. Ron gaped after him, hoping it was a good sign.

********* *********************************

Snape sat through the entire lunch, hoping Hermione would show up. He knew his hopes were in vain when he saw the Weasley girl come in and shrink plates of food again, but he couldn't bring himself to leave, just in case. Dully, he brooded through eating very little, eventually trudging down to the dungeon for his afternoon classes.

His self-loathing tortured him, but he knew he had to see her, to try to figure out what he could do to make things better. He realized that if she didn't come to dinner, at least he would see her in class the next morning.

If only he had some idea what to say or do.