AN: Many thanks go to my beta Ron Weasley for helping me out with this chapter.

I'm only saying this once: I own none of the characters, they belong to J.K.Rowling. Anything else you recognise, isn't mine either.

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PART 1

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Chapter 1: Indescribable Feelings

Harry Potter watched as the fire in the common room flickered with a comforting light and warmth—warmth he so desperately needed. Midnight had long since ticked by, and he was the only one in the Gryffindor common room. Which was fine just as well. He had wanted to be alone for quite some time. He started his seventh year only a week ago, but ever since he’d come to Hogwarts he hadn’t been feeling very well, which was unusual because he had thought that only Hogwarts could bring his spirits up. He’d clearly been wrong. Watching everyone around him talking about Voldemort, about the Final Battle, about their chances of winning, they were not exactly what he’d consider cheerful topics. Besides that, there were always the people that pointed him out, whispered and thought that only he—the magnificent Harry Potter—could save them. Harry let out a bitter laugh. How ironic it was that these people were right without them even knowing it. Harry was the chosen one and had been since he’d been born. He was the only one who had any real chance of defeating Voldemort. But the Dark Lord had been back for two years now, and even though he’d tried with almost every power he had to kill Harry, so far he hadn’t succeeded.

Looking up, Harry saw that the fire was dying out—almost like his hopes were. He didn’t know why this was affecting him so strongly just now. Probably because he was thinking that if he didn’t succeed in killing Voldemort the whole Wizard community was doomed to eternal hell. Not the responsibility your average seventeen-year-old would have.

Harry sighed. He wished someone would give him advice. Not someone like Dumbledore, who seemed to stress over the fact that Harry had many chances of winning because of this unknown power he had, but never actually dwelled long on what would happen if he were to lose. He didn’t dwell on it with Harry anyway. Harry didn’t know Dumbledore spent many sleepless nights making up plans for his protection. Harry didn’t need Ron’s advice because all he would do was give out that odd squeal of fright even just at the mentioning of Voldemort’s name. He didn’t need Lupin there with him, because ever since his best friend’s death, Lupin had become quieter and a lot more pensive. No. What Harry needed was Sirius. The only person he had ever regarded as more than just a friend, as more than just a brother, but a father. Only Sirius had been able to help him out when he was in a tight spot. Only Sirius had ever truly understood him—and maybe Hermione had gotten pretty close. Harry wiped his eyes on his sleeve, and repeated the promise he had made to himself so many times before. He would kill Bellatrix Lestrange or he would die trying.

Harry turned around quickly as he heard a noise behind him. He saw it was Hermione coming down the steps to the girls’ dormitories, pulling her dressing gown on and carrying a struggling Crookshanks in her arms. She seemed lost in thoughts as she made her way to the fireplace. She was so deep in her thoughts, she didn’t even notice Harry lying on the couch, and jumped when Harry cleared his throat to announce his presence.

“Harry, you scared the living lights out of me!� she exclaimed putting her hand over her heart. She dropped Crookshanks and sat on the couch next to Harry.

“Couldn’t sleep,� he said quietly. “How about you?�

“Well, you know, lots of things going on. I find it amazing for people to actually stay calm these days, you know?� Hermione talked and yet her mind seemed to be somewhere else.

Harry did know what she meant. But then again, no one was calm anymore. Everyone was scared that something might happen. They lived in everlasting fear that the day they dreaded would come soon. Harry, of course, had a lot on his plate right now, but Hermione had no less. Sure, she didn’t have to worry about saving the world, but there was something that she had to worry about. Even though she was safe at Hogwarts—or as safe as a person could be these days—her parents weren’t safe. They were Muggles living in a Muggle-town and nothing and no one would stop the Death Eaters going after them. Hadn’t there already been a lot of Muggle-raids? The odds of Hermione’s parents being attacked weren’t that high but…Hermione shuddered as she thought about Malfoy. Would he hate her so much as to send his father and the rest of the Death Eaters after her parents? Hermione shivered again as she wrapped her arms around herself.

Meanwhile, Harry had been watching her. He knew very well what she was worried about and he wanted to let her know that he would do everything in his power to make sure her parents would be okay. No, to make sure everyone’s parents were okay. And even as he watched her, an indescribable feeling rose inside him. Something he had never felt before. He wasn’t quite able to put his finger on it, but he thought that the feeling was giving him hope. He watched her and the way her hair tumbled about her shoulders in soft curls, reflecting the fire light, and Harry found himself being mesmerised by the many shades her hair seemed to take…

“Harry?� Hermione asked tentatively.

“Hm?� Harry was pulled back to Earth by Hermione’s voice.

“I just wanted to tell you … I mean … well … I don’t know exactly how to say this … but … um … you know Anthony Goldstein?� she finally blurted out.

“The guy in Ravenclaw? Yeah, why?� Harry sat up straighter, now really interested on what Hermione had to say. Why would she want to talk about Goldstein?

“Well, we sort of … we’re like … we’re going out,� she finished some what lamely.

Harry felt his mouth hang open. This guy certainly didn’t waste any time. They’d only been back at Hogwarts for a week. Harry thought back at the last time he’d seen Goldstein. He hadn’t left much of an impression on Harry. He was good-looking though, with his black, wavy hair and deep brown eyes. He was quite tall too, almost as tall as Ron.

“He said he’s fancied me for ages, but never had the courage … We’ve been going out since this summer. I found out he lives near my place as well. Well, what do you think?� she prompted.

Harry thought and thought some more.

“Do you really like him?� he finally asked.

Hermione blushed a pretty shade of rose.

“Yes, I think so. A little bit.�

“Then you should go out with him if he makes you happy. God knows, we need more amusement around here,� Harry said, trying to change the subject. Something had formed in his stomach, like a knot, but he didn’t understand why.

“You’re okay with it?� Hermione asked timidly.

“Why shouldn’t I be? If you’re happy…� he cut himself off.

“Okay, thanks.� Hermione managed a smile. “I’ll just have to tell Ron tomorrow. I wonder how he’ll take it?�

They sat in silence for a while. It was true that Anthony had liked Hermione for quite some time and that Hermione did feel good about having someone like her. So she said yes. But there was something holding her back slightly. She didn’t know what. This little voice inside her that said… She shook her head. She deserved to have fun. She told herself over and over that it wasn’t worth constantly worrying about her mum and dad. They’d be fine. Unwanted, the thought of her parents came back to her and a haunted look was noticeable in her eyes. How she wanted to see them… Harry sat thinking as well. Now he had something else to worry about. Well, not exactly worry. As far as he knew—and he didn’t know much—Goldstein was a good guy, but if he dared hurt Hermione in any way whatsoever he would have Harry and Ron to answer to. He did think that Hermione would have been safer with someone they knew better, but hey, who was he to judge?

So that’s how they spent their night; each one deep in their own thoughts, occasionally thinking about each other, occasionally talking to each other, until sleep overcame them at last. Hermione fell asleep first, and put her head on Harry’s shoulder as her eyelids began to drop. Not exactly knowing what to do, Harry simply put his hand over her shoulder as they fell asleep. Two people in need of comfort, lying in each others arms, not realising that they were safe in each other’s presence like they would never be in anyone else’s.

The fire had now completely died out and only wisps of smoke remained.


A/N: For disclaimers look at personal info...

Again, many thanks to my beta, Ron Weasley.

Hope you enjoy!



Chapter 2: A Saturday of Freedom

“Harry, mate, have you been down here all night?� Ron exclaimed looking down at Harry.

Harry awoke with a start. He looked around, not realising where he was or why he was there. Then the night’s events came back to him. He slowly sat up on the couch and rubbed his neck. He had a headache from sleeping on the hard couch all night. Looking around, he saw that Hermione was not anywhere in sight. She’d probably gotten up early. There’s something important involving her I should remember, Harry thought. He felt like he had a bad hangover. Goldstein. Right, now I remember. Something of his thoughts must have showed in his face, because Ron was looking down at him with a puzzled expression on his face.

“You all right?� he asked again.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Must have fallen asleep. You know,� answered Harry as he got up and stretched.

“At least its Saturday today,� Ron noted with a wide grin spreading over his face. “It’s been such a hard week. All those NEWT classes.�

“At least we don’t have Divination anymore. Though Potions is bad enough for both of them,� Harry said.

He still hated Potions class, and Snape had never been in a worst temper with him, Ron, and everyone else for that matter. Truthfully, Harry, Ron, and three quarters of the class shouldn’t have gotten in Potions at all. However, due to a rule by Professor Dumbledore, everyone that had gotten an Exceeds Expectations Owl had the right to take the NEWT Potions class. Dumbledore’s reasoning for that was that they needed as much help as they could get from their students for the Final Battle, and Potions was a very important class for knowledge.

Harry sighed and went upstairs to shower and dress while Ron sat down in the common room waiting for Hermione to come—and come she did. Brightly bouncing down the steps, she went into the common room, her smile as bright as can be.

“What’re you so happy about?� Ron asked suspiciously.

Hermione wasted no time telling Ron her news, and he took it a lot better than she’d expected. Then again, Ron didn’t fancy Hermione anymore, but there was still something lingering from their short romance from the previous year. They had broken up on a friendly note, saying that things couldn’t work out between them since they were both too stubborn, but since then Ron had always looked out for her best interests. Now he was thinking that Anthony was definitely not what she needed.

“Does Harry know about this?� he asked with a rather annoyed look on his face.

“Yes, I told him yesterday. He took it quite well. Although he was rather quieter than usual,� Hermione shrugged.

Ron raised his eyebrow.

“He couldn’t sleep, so I came down and kept him company,� she said again with an offhand sort of voice.

Ron raised his other eyebrow. There was something more going on here, and if he could find out what it was, he certainly would.

Just then, Harry himself came out of the boys’ dormitories, his hair extremely wet.

“Too lazy to dry my hair,� he replied in answer to their silent question. “So, what’s the topic of the day today?� he asked, smiling, though the last thing he felt like doing was smiling.

Hermione blushed.

“I don’t really want to talk about it, but if you must know, I have a date today.�

Ha, left them speechless, she thought smiling inwardly at the guys’ stunned expressions.

“That was quick,� Ron said, voicing what Harry was thinking. “Hey, Harry,� he said, turning towards Harry, now that Hermione had bid them goodbye and had started walking up her dormitory, “how about we fly around a bit today? We could get Madam Hooch to supervise us. She’d do anything for you.�

Harry smiled. Yes, flying on his Firebolt was just what he needed. To get his mind off things, to just be on the pitch again.

The weather was fabulous. It couldn’t be more perfect. The sky was an exhilarating blue; not a cloud was visible. The light breeze reminded the boys that this could very well be the last chance they got this year of flying.

“And Hermione can’t possibly blame us for not studying. She’s not going to as well.� Ron grinned. The idea that Hermione was not going to tell them off for not studying was truly relaxing.

Harry nodded.

“Let’s go get some breakfast,� he said getting up.

***

Hermione went to find Ginny before going to her own room. She couldn’t wait to tell her that Harry had approved. Not that it would’ve mattered, but he was her best friend and if he’d been against it, she wouldn’t have felt the same. All of a sudden her thoughts went back to Harry, and she saw his face so clearly, but he seemed disappointed in her. His piercingly green eyes looked at her and there was something in them she couldn’t understand. Yes, that was just how he’d looked when she told him about Anthony. Shaking her head slightly, she told herself she must have been daydreaming. Spotting Ginny, she yelled at her to come over. Hermione told Ginny that she needed an outfit for her date, and Ginny’s eyes immediately shone with a kind of feverish light. Hermione had hit her weak spot—clothes.

They went down to Hermione’s deserted room—Lavender and Parvati were out. Trying to pick out the right outfit, though, proved to be difficult. Hermione wanted something casual since they were only going to be walking around, and then they would sit at their favourite spot by the lake and if it got late enough look at the stars.

“Ok, try this,� Ginny said, pushing an outfit into her hands. Tight jeans and a simple low-cut, white shirt. Hermione tried it.

“Nah,� she said as she looked at herself in the mirror. Ginny tossed her a really short mini and a tight, pink tube top.

“Ginny, it’s against school rules! And I’ll look like a whore! � Hermione exclaimed.

“Sometimes that’s the best thing, isn’t it?� Ginny said lowering and raising her eyebrows. Hermione threw a pillow at her, and they began a pillow-fight.

“I suppose that’s how you snatched Lee then, isn’t it?� Hermione gasped, trying to breathe properly. Ginny was wrestling her to the ground, and had put a pillow over her face.

“I’ll have you know that George was responsible for that!� Ginny laughed and threw a couple of more pillows at Hermione.

George had known Lee had a crush on Ginny for quite some time, and being completely different from Ron, he’d only helped them out a little. Not that Ginny needed his help.

“Speaking of George,� Hermione said picking up the pillows and replacing them on the bed, “do you know why he was so happy last time we saw him? It didn’t have to do with Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes, did it?�

“No, not at all. Apparently he convinced this girl he fancied to go out with him. We still don’t know who it is. Though I highly suspect it’s Katie Bell.�

“Really? Good for him,� Hermione said. Ginny was bending down to pick up the last pillow when Hermione hit her again over the head. She did not like losing her battles.

After they’d finally calmed down once more, they went back to outfit picking. After much looking, screaming, and punching each other, they found the right thing. Hermione wore jeans and a light blue, sleeveless turtleneck. Hermione tied her curly hair in a simple ponytail and went to say goodbye to Harry and Ron.

***

She entered the boys’ dormitory without knocking, but found it empty. Guessing they were probably in the Quidditch pitch, she looked out the window. Sure enough, there they were, Madam Hooch just visible in the topmost row. Hermione went outside. She’d been picking clothes with Ginny for a long time. As she stepped on the pitch she saw that the sky was now beginning to turn orangey-red, and she was left momentarily breathless. This was her favourite time of the day. Sunset. She watched as the sky changed colours thinking about everything she’d ever been through. Finally, as twinkling little stars started to appear in the sky, she took a deep breath and jerked herself out of her trance. She didn’t want to be late.

Hermione looked up at her two best friends joking around on their broomsticks. She watched as Harry made spectacular moves up in the air, and thought that if anyone could play Quidditch like Harry, then it would easily become her favourite sport. Overhead, Harry spotted her, and dived straight at her. For a moment, Hermione thought Harry was going to run her over, but at the very last minute he pulled away, only grazing her cheek with his finger. She stared after him, amazed. How could he do that? After a couple of spins, he landed softly right next to her. There was a look in him she hadn’t seen in so long. His eyes were alit with a new kind of light, and he was smiling.

That smile, Hermione thought. How long has it been since I’ve last seen that smile?

Quidditch had been cancelled due to Voldemort’s return. The only thing they had now was an occasional broomstick ride, always supervised by a teacher. It seemed Voldemort was getting rid of everything that made Harry happy. Hermione would have given anything to have her best friend up and smiling again. Laughing at Ron’s jokes, threatening Malfoy, and making fun of Trelawney were things of the past. Harry had been just quiet for a long time.

Ever since Sirius’ death, Hermione thought. There was a sad look in his eyes now. Like any moment of his life could be his last.

Hermione was jerked out of her thoughts as she heard Harry laugh.

“Why all dressed up Hermione?� he asked, playfully punching her on the arm.

“What, you already forgot about her date?� Ron answered for her.

“I just came to say goodbye,� she said. She started walking away as she realised she was late. “Well, bye!�

“Don’t worry, we won’t wait up!� Ron yelled behind her. She heard laughter as the two guys got back on their brooms.

Hermione sighed. She just couldn’t wait for this to be over, and then, they’d all live happily with only the usual problems to occupy their minds, because there was no doubt in Hermione’s mind how it would all end. Smart witch though she was, she didn’t realise that even though Harry was powerful, Voldemort was much more so. She didn’t realise that Harry’s chance of winning against him was not that good. Her heart was thinking, and her mind was not.

Hermione sighed again as she wrapped her arms around herself. It was getting a little chilly. She wished she’d brought a sweater. As she neared the lake she looked up from the grass and saw him. All of her fears and problems seemed to disappear. Anthony Goldstein was leaning against a tree keeping a lookout for her. His face brightened as he saw her walking towards him.

Reaching out, he took her small hands into his, and smiling broadly he said, “What kept you?�

She just leaned her head against his chest feeling the beat of his heart. She felt safe. She was safe. She knew that as he ran his finger through her ponytail.

“Come on, let’s go,� he whispered in her ear.

She pulled away slightly. “Where?� she asked. “I thought we were just going to walk around.�

“Well, let’s just put it this way,� he answered. Taking her hand, he led her around the tree he’d been leaning on, “we’ll have time to do that later.�

Hermione gasped as she saw what he’d prepared for her. In front of her lay a red and white chequered cloth with everything from chocolate chip cookies to croissants to little cups of pumpkin juice.

They sat down, talked, ate, and then they talked some more. Anthony wasn’t what you’d call the perfect listener and Hermione knew that. She found that most of the time he didn’t understand what she was talking about. It was much like talking to Ron. She smiled to herself. But he was sweet enough. Not to mention he’d spent two solid weeks trying to get her to go out with him. He sure knew how to be persuasive. She’d said yes after a short while, and even though you couldn’t call him perfect—no one was perfect—the interest Anthony was taking in her, made Hermione feel special. There was also the fact that she thought no man would really want her. Victor had broken up with her for no reason, and that had left her feeling hurt. Ron had been okay though, and now…she really hoped Anthony would be good for her. She needed to restore her belief in love—and in herself. As smart as she was, Hermione often forgot that a little self-esteem was just what she was missing, and nothing else.

Having finished their picnic, both Hermione and Anthony turned to each other for comfort. The talk was dying out now since neither one had much to say. Hermione leaned against his body as he ran a hand up and down her back. With his other hand he tilted her chin slightly and kissed her softly on the lips. His hand took hold of her elastic band, and he let her hair go free. As the kisses got steamier, Anthony left her mouth and started kissing her neck. He ran his hand up Hermione’s thigh, only to have it stopped by her. She pushed his hand away, and pulled away.

“No, Anthony, not like this,� she said with a little bit of breathing difficulty.

Anthony just stretched and placed his hands under his head as he leaned against the tree.

“Like what, ‘Mione?� he asked her, looking around. Hermione followed his gaze and realised he had a point. There was on one else around, the stars were twinkling overhead, and everything looked like it had come out of a romance novel.

“I have told you a thousand times not to call me ‘Mione. Just like I keep telling you every time I see you, I’m not ready.�

He just sighed.

“All right, that’s cool,� he said. He moved closer and kissed her lightly on the lips. “You’d better go now. Your friends will be wondering why you’re taking so long to get back. And if Filch finds you…�

She nodded and smiled. He seemed okay with it all, but as she said goodbye to him, she couldn’t help but notice a new kind of look in his eyes. She shook the thought away as she walked back to the castle. Everything was good. If only she didn’t have to end every evening the way she’d just ended this one.

Hermione opened the door and slowly crept up to Gryffindor Tower. It had sure gotten late. She was surprised to find not only Ginny waiting for her, but Harry and Ron as well. They were in front of the fire and obviously in some deep discussion about what form Luna’s Animagus would take.

“I think she’d be one of those weird animals with those weird shells. You know the ones,� Ron said, trying to explain with his hands as well. Everyone just looked at him blankly.

“Crabs, Ron?� Ginny asked raising her eyebrows.

“No!�

“I think she’d be a Crumple-Horned Snorkack,� Harry said matter-of-factly. They all started laughing.

Then they suddenly noticed Hermione was listening to their conversation and stopped. Everyone looked at her as though they were expecting her to talk.

“What?� she asked as she sat down next to Ginny on the rug. She looked into the fire, not seeing it at all.

“Well, what happened?� Ginny asked.

“The usual,� Hermione replied smiling. Although Anthony’s behaviour was a little tiring, she couldn’t deny she felt sort of…well, she didn’t know.

At that point Ginny dragged Hermione upstairs to her room, leaving Harry and Ron slightly open-mouthed.

Thanks go to my beta Ron Weasley.
Many thanks to those who have reviewed.


Chapter 3: Eyes are the Windows to the Soul

“Anthony! Hi!�

Hermione beamed as she saw Anthony Goldstein approaching the Gryffindor table. It was Monday, and everyone was eating breakfast and talking to each other about their coming lessons and homework.

“Hey, Hermione,� said Anthony as he bent down and kissed her on the cheek. Hermione seemed to flush.

“Potter, Weasley,� he added, nodding at each in turn.

“Guys, you remember Anthony,� Hermione said, inviting him to sit down.

Ron muttered something that sounded like “yeah, sure�, while Harry chose not to reply. He had rather lost his appetite. A minute of awkward silence followed—nobody had much to say. Hermione kept shooting nervous glances at the three guys; Ron kept stuffing his mouth with food so he couldn’t say much of anything, and Harry was trying very hard not to look at Anthony, who now had his arm over Hermione’s shoulders. Luckily the silence was interrupted by Hermione’s squeak as she looked down at her watch.

“Oh no,� she cried, “I’m going to be late for class. I promised Professor Sinistra I would go in early, because she said she wanted to tell me something.�

With that, and a kiss on Anthony’s cheek, she dashed from the hall leaving the three guys in a very uncomfortable state. Ron broke the silence.

“Look, Goldstein—� he began, but he was cut off by Anthony himself.

“Guys, I know how you feel about Hermione. I know you’re like her brothers,� he started to say, “and I just wanted to assure you that nothing is going to happen to her while I’m with her. I really like her, and I won’t do anything to hurt her, believe me.�

“You better not,� Ron muttered under his breath.

“What was that?� asked Anthony from the other side of the table.

“I said that I really hope you’re serious about what you’re saying,� Ron snapped back in an irritated voice.

Anthony looked surprised, so he turned to look at Harry. Not quite trusting his voice, Harry nodded.

Damn, he thought, why the hell am I feeling like this? There is nothing wrong with Anthony and he seems sincere enough.

Seeing that none of the guys were keen on talking to him, Anthony excused himself and went to join his Ravenclaw mates.

“That guy is really getting on my nerves,� Ron said throwing his fork down in disgust. “I just don’t trust him. You know what my dad says about Ginny’s boyfriend?� he added, struggling to keep a straight face. Harry pretended he was interested. “He says ‘He breaks her heart, Fred and George break his neck’. I swear if that guy—� Ron now cut himself off, noticing Harry wasn’t paying him the least bit of attention.

His eyes were glazed over, and he was slumped back in his chair, his messy hair all over his face. Ron found this unusual, to say the least. Then, his mind went back to the way Harry had not uttered a single word while Anthony had been with them, and he hadn’t touched the rest of his breakfast either. Ron was now one hundred per cent convinced that there was something going on, something that involved Harry and…Hermione?

“Well, come on Harry. We don’t want to be late for Snape’s class. Urgh, imagine how many points he’d take off Gryffindor.�

Harry forced himself off his very comfortable chair and followed Ron to the dungeons.

***

“Potter, kindly go to Professor Dumbledore’s office. He wants a word with you,� Professor McGonagall said to him.

Harry had barely made it inside her class on time, only to be told he needed to go to Dumbledore.

Great.

He slowly made his way to his Headmaster’s office, wondering what Dumbledore wanted to talk about. About something bizarre, no doubt. He gave the gargoyles the password—Sugar Quills—and stepped on the moving stairs. He found the door open, so he simply stepped in. Dumbledore was sitting in his chair comfortably, waiting for him.

“Harry, come in,� he said pleasantly, “and close the door.�

Harry often wondered how Dumbledore could manage to stay so calm in every situation.

“What I want to talk to you about is serious Harry. Now that you’ve mastered Occlumency, it’s imperative for you to know, that the worst is not over. Voldemort can no longer make you see visions that aren’t true, however if one particular feeling or dream of Voldemort’s is strong enough, it may still penetrate your mind. This, of course, will be a devastating feeling, much worse than what you’re usually used to. So I wanted to put you on your guard. Also, if this happens, Harry, you need to come straight to me. You understand why of course. I would also tell Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger, so they can help you out.

"And, Harry, I feel I must also tell you, before I tell the whole school, that on the fifteenth of October, Hogwarts will undergo a thorough search to see if we can find anything suspicious. Students will be asked to remain in their common rooms. Anyone found wondering will be expelled. That goes for everyone, since this is a highly dangerous situation. That will be all." Dumbledore finished.

Harry looked at Dumbledore, not really feeling anything at the moment. So he was going to have to stay inside his common room for a day—big deal. What was really on his mind was the fact that he was going to have contact with Voldemort again. It was something he was used to. He only hoped the dreams he’d have weren’t going to be like the ones about Arthur Weasley or…Sirius.

“I am really sorry you have to go through this, Harry,� Dumbledore said quietly, his blue eyes boring into Harry’s.

***

Harry took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He felt like his mind was going to explode what with all the homework he had. He looked up and saw Ron completely immersed in his Transfiguration book while Hermione had her usual dozen books spread over her table. Putting on his glasses, Harry found himself looking at the way Hermione’s eyes flicked from one page to the next, the way her delicate wrists moved across her parchment, the way she tucked strands of hair behind her ear now and then.

Man, I really need to clarify my feelings, he found himself thinking. Is…am I…what am I thinking? Am I starting to see my best friend differently? Am I just tired? What on Earth is going on?

Hermione looked up and found Harry staring at her. She smiled at him.

“Are you tired already?� she asked softly.

“What do you mean already? We’ve been doing this for the last four hours!� Ron burst out, banging his book on the table. No one paid him much attention though—they were all used to Ron’s outbursts.

“I just can’t seem to do this,� Harry sighed, frustrated. “My brain is overflowing!�

Hermione got up from her table and sat down on the couch next to Harry.

“I can help you if you want,� she said her voice soft.

“What about m—� Ron began, but was cut off by Hermione’s angry glance. It seemed like she was telling him, “You don’t have to save the world.� Ron silently agreed.

A wave of relief washed over Harry. He could get through anything with Hermione by his side.

Wait, I can only get through homework with Hermione by my side, he quickly corrected himself.

“Yeah okay,� he told her.

“Look, Harry, you worry too much. Seriously, thinking this much will only make situations worse.� Hermione now placed her hand on top of Harry’s.

Harry felt something going through him, like a jolt of electricity.

From Hermione’s touch?

Harry avoided looking at her. He didn’t want to look into her eyes. He didn’t want to see the thing that would prove to him his real feelings for her. Ron, however seemed to notice something, because his eyes widened in surprise and he looked from Harry to Hermione with an amazed look on his face.

“Well,� she said brightly, “better not waste any time. Just give me a minute to finish my Charms essay and I’ll be right with you.�

Harry sighed as she moved away. It was very clear to him now; his feelings for Hermione had changed. He just didn’t know how and what they would mean. He was going to need all the help he could get to figure this out.

Ron got up from his table and sat next to Harry. Looking behind him, he decided to talk—they were definitely a good distance away from Hermione.

“Harry, mate,� Ron started, “look, I may be completely wrong here, but—er—is something going on between you and Hermione?�

Harry looked at Ron, a bit surprised. Did Ron really know him that well? Or had he been obvious?

“Well…� Harry cleared his throat. Was he going to confess his feelings to his best friend? What were his feelings, anyway? “I don’t know, Ron. All I know is that Hermione seems different to me now. I don’t know.�

Ron was looking at Harry with a bit of a funny look in his face.

“If you ask me,� he said smartly, “you fancy her. There’s only one way to find out for real, though. Look into her eyes and then look at what your heart says.�

Harry stared, surprised. Since when had Ron been the expert on feelings?

“Great, I’m done!� came Hermione’s voice from behind him. “Now what’s the most urgent thing you have to get done?�

Harry slowly turned around and faced Hermione. He looked up into her chocolaty-brown eyes…and there he found the answer he had been looking for. The answer he had been dreading.

Thanks go to my beta, Ron Weasley for all the help on this story.

Disclaimer: Accidentally in Love is a song from Counting Crows and I'm just borrowing the title.


Chapter 4: Accidentally in Love

Harry lied in bed watching the shadows on the ceiling and thinking. Today he had realised…what had he just realised? That he had feelings for Hermione? Was that even possible? His mates’ snores were so loud, they were disrupting his thinking.

His mind went back to those few moments he had stared up into Hermione’s deep brown eyes. For those few moments Harry had felt himself losing sight of everything and everyone, except for the girl in front of him. His heart had swelled up, and he’d felt like all he wanted to do was reach up and touch her soft, silky skin, bring her closer to him, and never let her go.

Now he ran his hand through his hair, frustrated. It was clear to him what he felt for Hermione. Just like mere hours before, he had been in total confusion, now he knew that the one person he wanted to be with (he tried hard not to think for the rest of his life), was none other but Hermione Granger. He just felt surprised that he’d never realised this before. That he had never wanted to be more than just friends with Hermione. She had been constantly by his side, and the only time they’d ever truly not talked since becoming friends, was when Crookshanks had supposedly eaten Scabbers. Never had she left him alone, and the constant nagging, Harry just realised, was all for his own good. Her advice had always been helpful, and if he had followed it, Sirius wouldn’t be dead. His insides squirmed with guilt as he tried to push the thought away.

He now felt he needed Hermione, needed her just as much as the air he was breathing, if not more. He needed to have her beside him, he needed to feel her skin beneath his fingers, and he needed to hear her say that she too, felt the same way.

But she can’t, he told himself, she can’t love you, she can’t be there for you the way you want her to. She’s with another man, and even if she wasn’t she’d probably be disgusted that her best friend would…she might even laugh at you, you idiot.

He imagined telling Hermione the truth. No doubt, she’d say that she didn’t like him back. But that would lead to so much more. It would lead to Hermione being uncomfortable around Harry and eventually it would lead to distance. Their friendship would fail—Harry didn’t want that. If he couldn’t have Hermione with him the way he wanted, he could at least have her friendship. He could at least talk to her everyday.

Harry was now furious; furious at Hermione for doing this to him; furious at himself for being too late; furious at Anthony for being with Hermione just when he’d realised his true feelings; and furious at Ron, for being right about this whole God-damned thing.

He could never be with Hermione, he would never try. He would just have to get through this alone, like he’d gotten through everything else in his life. He couldn’t put an end to their friendship, and he couldn’t do this to Hermione, especially not now when she was happy with Goldstein. As he turned over in his bed, he made himself a promise—he would never tell Hermione his true feelings for her, even if he had to suffer the consequences.

***

“As you can very well see, the Protean Charm allows for…�

Tiny Professor Flitwick was sitting on his usual pile of books and was explaining how the Protean Charm worked. Harry and Ron, having mastered the charm because of Hermione, weren’t really listening. Harry was busy trying to rid his mind of thoughts of Hermione, or indeed busy trying to stop staring at her. It was amazing. After six years of them being best friends, Harry felt like he was indeed, seeing her for the first time.

Meanwhile, Ron was busy observing Harry and trying hard not to laugh. It was obvious to him that Harry loved Hermione, and always had, he had just never noticed it. Ron wondered whether he realised it even now. He turned, and there was Harry, trying to keep his face away from Hermione, blushing slightly.

Ron, having Hermione’s best interests at heart, thought that Hermione and Harry were meant for one another. Once, he’d thought that he and Hermione were meant for each other, but that hadn’t worked out. As he watched the two of them sitting next to each other, Ron’s brain started working furiously fast to make up plans of setting them up.

Hermione, on the other hand, sat happily at her desk, not aware of anything unusual. She was listening to Professor Flitwick, her eyes never leaving his face. Next to her, Harry sneezed. She said, “Bless you� not even averting her head. Moments passed.

Suddenly, for the first time, Hermione felt a curious sensation, as though eyes were on her. But the glare was not unfriendly. She slowly turned her head, trying not to seem obvious and met a pair of astoundingly green eyes, now boring into her own. For a moment she seemed unable to move; she seemed frozen, and she found she didn’t have enough will-power to tear her eyes away from Harry’s. Suddenly they heard a snort of laughter right next to Harry—Ron was unable to hold back his laughter any longer.

“Do you have a spare quill Hermione?� Harry found himself asking. His brain seemed quite empty of everything except that angelic face, though he thought to himself, quick thinking.

Hermione handed him the quill. If she was not mistaken, she had just felt helpless for the very first time in her life. What was happening? For the umpteenth time that week, she shook her head, trying to clear it of all emotion, and forced her attention back on Professor Flitwick.

Harry couldn’t think at all. All he could do was visualise her face over and over in his mind. He had never known this feeling; never known love so complete, so total, so pure and clean; never had he felt so powerless, not even when facing Voldemort. This went beyond anything he had even imagined before. Even though he only had the knowledge of his love for her for one day, it was already slowly eating him up from the inside, leaving him struggling for breath. Again he felt that powerful need to have her beside him, to touch her, to tell her the truth. If he survived this, it would be a miracle. He let his head fall on his desk with a loud THUNK. He could think no longer.

“Mr. Potter. What do you say you come up here and try to perform the spell for us?� Professor Flitwick’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

“Er…�

“You can do it, Harry. You know you can. Go on.� came Hermione’s voice from beside him. Looking at her face full of hope and support, Harry got up and went to the front of the class.

“Well, here goes,� he said, his eyes never leaving Hermione’s face.

***

“WHAT? She knows? Ron, why on Earth would you tell her?� Harry yelled in the middle of the Entrance Hall, making everyone in the vicinity turn their heads and stare curiously.

“Come on, Harry. I think Ginny has a right to know, don’t you? I mean, she was the one who had a crush on you, and she’s the only one who might help you out. How else do you expect to win Hermione’s heart?� Ron spoke calmly, leading Harry towards the Great Hall for lunch.

“Ron, this is what I wanted to talk to you about. I don’t want to win Hermione's heart. I could never make her throw away our friendship. I mean, look at her!� Harry said, pointing at the Ravenclaw table where Hermione was sitting next to Anthony, happily talking to him. “How could I take that away from her?�

“Harry, you dolt, did it ever occur to you that she might be a lot happier with you?� Ron was beginning to get frustrated. His friend could be such a dumb ass when it came to relationships.

“No, it hasn’t. I love her too much to—�

“Hold it!� Harry heard Ron shout. “Did you just say you love her? Harry you love her, don’t you? Do you really? Come on, you can say it.�

Harry said nothing. He had just said “love�. He loved Hermione. It was as simple as that. He hadn’t planned on telling Ron, though. It had just slipped out. He loved Hermione, and yet she didn’t love him back. As if to emphasise this point, Hermione chose that exact same moment to lean in and give Anthony a deep and meaningful kiss, leaving most of the Ravenclaws astonished. Harry closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to steady himself and looked away.

Ron, understanding Harry’s silence all too well, said nothing.

Meanwhile Ginny had come into the Great Hall and sat herself down next to Ron, opposite of Harry. She grinned at him and leaned forward over the table to speak to him.

“Ron told me,� she said, “that you have feelings for Hermione. Now here’s the thing. I know that you feel you would never come between her and Anthony, because Hermione’s happy. But, Hermione has been acting a little strange Harry. So I think you have to fight for her, because chances are you’re going to win.�

Harry just looked at her blankly. How on Earth did Ginny know what he was feeling? And why, why did everyone tell him to go for it? To fight for her? He just shook his head at Ginny, and without saying a word walked out of the Great Hall. Anthony had chosen that precise moment to drag Hermione away from the hall and into one of the little chambers outside it, and unfortunately Harry had noticed.

“We’ve got to do something about them,� Ron exclaimed exasperatedly, “and I know just the thing.� He leaned over and started whispering his plan to his younger sister.

“Ron! It’s way too dangerous! What if they’re caught? No way, nuh uh, I am not helping you.� Ginny said angrily and crossed her arms across her chest.

“Fine! Fine, be like that! I’ll do it myself! But you have to promise not to tell them a word. Promise me, Ginny!� he yelled at her.

“Ugh! You make me so mad! Fine, I promise!� Ginny said through clenched teeth and with that stomped out of the hall as well.

A/N: Well, this chapter was mostly for making Harry's feelings clear and a couple of clues are dropped in it as well. However, I feel it is definately not one of my best chapters.

Many thanks go to my beta, Ron Weasley, for all the help with this story!

A/N: Rated PG-13 for some of the language.


Chapter 5: Narrow Escape


“What in the name of Merlin are you doing, Hermione?� Ron asked her, staring at her as though quite unable to believe his eyes.

“They’re called chopsticks, Ron,� she snapped back. She was in no mood to answer Ron’s questions.

“And why exactly are you using them?� Ron spoke again.

“They’re mostly used for eating Chinese food Ron, but Muggle girls sometimes use them to tie their hair—just like Hermione’s doing.� This time it was Harry who replied.

Hermione was indeed tying her hair in a bun and using chopsticks to fix it. She sighed as she fixed her hair, and went back to reading the book in front of her, her eyes slightly bloodshot. Again, Harry found himself staring at her as though she was the most beautiful thing in the world.

“Why don’t you just use a hair tie?� Ron asked again.

“Ron! Will you drop it please!� yelled Hermione. She looked like she was about to curse Ron, so he just left the matter be.

“Fine, ok, I’ll stop asking. I’ve got to go to the Owlery, anyway.� He got up and left the common room, leaving Harry and Hermione in total silence. Uncomfortable silence for Harry, but he knew better than to speak.

They spent the next while doing their homework, now and then flicking a page, and rubbing their eyes. Having finished her own homework, Hermione strode over to Harry and started helping him. Harry could hardly bear having her so close to him and not touching her. But he learned to control his feelings in time. He could hardly tell her that he didn’t want her help, because the NEWT exams were at the end of the year, and without Hermione he thought he’d fail everything.

Ron came back just as they were closing their books, looking highly satisfied about something. He yawned and stretched.

“Guys, would you mind sitting up with me for a few moments? I still have some homework to do,’ he said flopping down onto the couch.

“Well, it would serve you right if we left you all alone! Where were you, anyway?� Hermione asked him, her voice a little aggravated.

“I told you, I had some work to do. Come on, Hermione, please help me out a little,� Ron pleaded.

Hermione took the chopsticks out of her hair, and her hair tumbled down. Unaware of Harry’s eyes on her, she rolled her head and rubbed her neck. She thought it’d be very nice if she just left Ron to deal with his homework alone, but then took pity on him and sat down to help him, even though she was exhausted. Harry, on the other hand, was way too tired to stay up, not to mention reluctant to stay near Hermione for even another moment. He bid Ron and Hermione goodnight and went upstairs to his own bed.

Hermione stayed up helping Ron with his homework, and hours passed before she looked up from her books, because she had heard a sharp tap on the window. She turned around and found an owl waiting for her. Opening the window, she let the owl inside and took the letter from his beak.

“It’s a school owl. I wonder who it’s from,� she said more to herself than anything.

“Well, who is it from?� Ron asked innocently.

“Anthony. Weird though. He has his own owl, why would he use a school one?�

Ron seemed to flush.

“Anyway,� Hermione said, yawning, “I think that’s all we need for tomorrow. I’m going to bed.� And without another word she climbed the stairs to the girls’ dorms and disappeared out of sight.

***

Days went by and as they entered October, the weather grew steadily colder. There was now hardly a day where it didn’t rain.

Harry could only marvel at how fast the time had gone by. He was shocked that he had gotten through September at all. Besides the ever-growing mountain of homework, he had had to live with the knowledge that he loved his best friend, and yet he could do nothing about it. He had begun spending less time around Hermione and more time cooped up in his dormitory. He was finding it increasingly difficult to be around her and not tell her the truth. He also felt he couldn’t cope with the fact that Hermione’s face glowed after every date with Anthony. Every time he’d think of them together, jealousy would rip through him and more than once, he had either dropped whatever he was holding, messed up whatever he was doing, or when he was laying in bed he’d find it impossible to go to sleep. Over this last month, however, he had learned to master his feelings so that no one, not even Ron, could tell that there was something going on. More than once, Ron had asked Harry whether he still loved Hermione.

The only time his feelings would show, was when Hermione and Anthony were together. No matter how hard he tried, Harry just couldn’t bring himself to look at the pair of them. On these occasions, he’d quickly make up an excuse and leave the happy couple alone. Of course there were also the times when Harry would just stare at her, his eyes ablaze with passion and love, but he tried to restrain from this as much as possible. Other than that, he kept his emotions well hidden and never talked about his feelings, not even to Ron.

On this particular evening he was walking back to Gryffindor Tower, his heart and mind completely occupied with thoughts of Hermione. He climbed through the portrait hole and, as usual, sat on the couch in front of the fire. The common room was beginning to fill up—it looked as though the whole of Gryffindor house was there. Ron and Hermione, however, were nowhere to be seen. Just as Harry was pondering this, Ron himself came out of the boys’ dorms looking very full of something.

“Harry, something awful has happened,� he exclaimed as soon as he was within earshot of Harry, “Hermione’s not here, she’s not in the common room.�

Harry looked at Ron raising his eyebrows.

“And that would be bad because…� he said, not understanding what Ron was so desperately trying to tell him.

“Harry, don’t you know what date it is today?� Ron asked, looking stupefied.

“Why would it mat—oh no, it’s the 15th! No one’s allowed outside their common rooms. Ron, are you sure she’s not in her dorm? Did you have someone check?�

“Yes. I asked Ginny to see if she’s there, and she’s not,� Ron finished emphatically.

Harry had already jumped to his feet and was making straight for the portrait hole, when Ron caught up with him.

“What are you doing, Harry? Are you going after her?� he asked with a look of suspicion on his face.

“Of course I am!� Harry shouted. “Do you think I’m just going to let her get expelled? How on Earth did she not realise what day it was? She’s supposed to be Head Girl, too!�

The conversation hadn’t stopped Harry’s walking. He was climbing through the portrait hole when he heard Ron shout, “At least take your Invisibility Cloak!�

“There’s no time!� he answered back and he was gone.

Ron was left looking at the back of the Fat Lady’s picture. This was really starting to sound like a bad idea. He didn’t want them to get expelled. All he wanted to do was show Hermione how much Harry cared about her. But he’d counted on Harry taking the Invisibility Cloak with him, or the Marauders’ Map at least. This could be downright dangerous. He sighed and flopped himself onto Harry’s abandoned place. He heard someone click her tongue next to him. Turning around he saw Ginny.

“See what you did?� she shouted. “It’ll serve you right if something happens to them!�

“I just wanted to help them out,� Ron said in a small voice.

“There were other ways, you idiot!� Ginny’s was beside herself. “You should have at least told him where Hermione was!�

Ron just realised he hadn’t done that either. He slapped himself on his forehead.

Meanwhile, Harry was tearing through the corridors, trying to find Hermione. He wasn’t thinking of what would happen if was to run into any of the teachers, all he was thinking about was Hermione getting expelled. That changed as soon as he heard footsteps coming his way. He ducked, just in time, behind the statue of the one-eyed witch. Snape’s billowing robes swept around the corner, quickly followed by Professor McGonagall. Harry stayed where he was long after they’d gone—he needed to think. Where could Hermione be? He could hardly search the whole castle looking for her. He tried to focus and something in his heart more than in his mind, told him he could find Hermione at the top of the Astronomy Tower. He started running again, making his way as fast as he could to the top of the Tower.

Sure enough, when he got there, he saw Hermione sitting with her back to the castle wall, her hands around her knees, thinking.

“Hermione!� Harry whispered urgently. “Hermione, what in the name of Merlin are you doing here?�

“Harry?� she asked weakly. “What are you doing here?�

Grabbing her arm, he pulled her to her feet and started dragging her away.

“Don’t you remember? Dumbledore told us they were going to do a thorough search of the castle today, and anyone out of the common rooms would be expelled.� All the while he talked, Harry dragged her along. He saw Hermione clap a hand to her mouth, and he didn’t need to pull her anymore, because she was doing the running herself.

“Oh my gosh!� she panted. “I can’t believe I forgot. I was just…Anthony sent me a letter telling me to meet him here…he said it was important. And…he never even showed up! This has got to be a trick of some kind!�

Harry was too breathless to talk. They both ran as fast and quietly as they could, hoping against hope that they wouldn’t get caught.

“Shit! It’s Filch!� Hermione heard Harry exclaim, and sure enough out of a corner of their eye they saw the caretaker walking towards them. Hermione glanced nervously in his direction, and her heart seemed to lift. He hadn’t noticed them. Grabbing Hermione’s hand Harry led her in the other direction, again trying hard not to make any noise. It was too much to hope that they would get back to Gryffindor Tower without Filch noticing them. He was after all, only a couple of feet away. Taking a few more steps Harry, inaudibly, opened the door to a broom cupboard nearby and got inside, followed by Hermione, hoping to God Filch wouldn’t need any brooms.

It was a tight fit. There was barely room enough for one person, let alone two. Hermione was squished next to Harry, and there wasn’t enough room to even move. Both of their chests were heaving after all the running they had just done, and their breaths seemed to come in ragged gasps.

Already fear was evaporating fast in Harry’s mind, now that he was so close to the love of his life. He wished he could see her face, but it was so dark in the cupboard he probably wouldn’t have been able to see his own hand. All of a sudden, he felt something on his chest and he would have jumped if he could. Hermione had just laid her head over Harry’s chest, wanting to take comfort in his arms. She was not even aware of doing it, but did not seem bothered by it at all. Harry, on the other hand, was going through hell. He would have liked nothing better than to wrap his hands around the girl leaning on him, but he knew he couldn’t. It was lucky it was dark. Harry was glad Hermione was not able to see his face, because he was sure that she’d be scared if she could. His piercingly-green eyes were burning with secret longing, and he was sure he was probably flushed too. As if to make Harry even more uncomfortable, Hermione now placed her delicate hand upon his chest as well. Harry couldn’t handle it.

Don’t, he thought, please, please don’t do this to me, Hermione.

He inhaled sharply to stop himself from doing anything crazy. He fought the urge to run his fingers through her hair, and instead focused his attention on the footsteps outside. Filch was still roaming around and after awhile Harry heard Dumbledore’s voice performing all sort of spells to see if that corridor was safe.

So they stood, in silence, each minute feeling like eternity to Harry. When they were quite sure that there was no one outside, they exited the cupboard, making their careful—and to Harry, agonizing—way back to Gryffindor Tower.

As soon as they climbed through the portrait hole, they were greeted by a rousing wave of welcome. The news of their disappearance had made its way to every one, and they were all happy that their house mates were now safe. Ron and Ginny ran towards them, Ginny hugging Hermione as soon as she was close enough.

“I don’t know what happened. How could I have forgotten about this? It’s amazing…I mean…well…you know me. I don’t usually forget. Anthony’s got me going crazy…� Hermione finished pulling away from Ginny. She glanced up at Harry, whose heart had just dropped in the region of his stomach.

“I don’t know how to thank you for this Harry,� she said looking at him straight in the eye, “If it hadn’t been for you—�

She wound her arms around Harry’s neck and hugged him. Harry could hardly take this. It was too much, after everything he had been through today. His hands found Hermione’s waist and he hugged her back. Hermione let go of him, tears in her eyes. Harry was a little more reluctant to release her, but he had no choice since everyone seemed to be watching them.

“I don’t understand why Anthony would do this to me,� Hermione whispered, now turning to the other two. She seemed so exhausted; it was a miracle she could even whisper. “I’m going to have a talk with him first thing tomorrow. This is all he gave me,� she said, giving Harry a letter that was tucked away in her robes.

And with that she took refugee in the girls’ dorms, Ginny right behind her.

Harry opened the letter and started reading. He looked at Ron, noticed that his ears and neck had turned red and a suspicion formed in his mind as he turned his eyes back to the letter.

Hermione,

Please meet me up at the Astronomy Tower on the 15th of October at 8.30 PM. It’s really important you be there. I have a very special surprise for you.

Much love, Anthony

Harry looked up at Ron again, as he realised that he knew that writing. It was clearly deformed, yes, but all the same…Ron was trying hard to look innocent.

“You…Ron, please, please, tell me that you had nothing to do with this!� Harry exclaimed, his voice shaking with suppressed anger, because he already knew the answer.

Ron avoided meeting Harry’s eyes as he made his way back to the couch. Harry followed him.

“YOU IDIOT! Why would you do something like this?� Harry howled. “Do you have ANY idea what was at risk here? WHY RON?�

“Harry, it was for you! So she would realise that you’d do anything for her!� Ron shouted back.

�Bull!� Harry roared. “LIKE YOU COULDN’T COME UP WITH ANY OTHER IDEA!! But this! THIS was the way to do it, wasn’t it?�

“ALL RIGHT! I get the message already!� Ron shouted again, now almost as angry as Harry. “Look, I’m sorry, I know I was wrong. But, come on! It’s useless telling me that nothing happened! Now, tell me, did this change your mind about anything?�

Harry said nothing. His anger at Ron had not abated yet. He felt so angry, he was left momentarily speechless. What gave Ron the right to mess with his life? If he and Hermione had been expelled…but something that Ron had said, did bring something back to him. That he had changed views on something of importance. He flung himself onto the couch. Ron did the same.

Harry had just become conscious of the fact that he could not hide his feelings for ever. He did not want to anymore. He would have to tell Hermione the truth, there was nothing else for it. Another moment like the one in the closet, and he might do something crazy—like grab her and kiss her, which would certainly freak Hermione out a lot more than the truth. Besides, it was torture having Hermione there only as a friend. Even if he did lose her friendship, he would have to risk it.

“Yes,� he whispered, more to himself than to Ron, “I have changed my mind. I’m going to tell her the truth.�

Many thanks to my beta, Ron Weasley.

A/N: Just a short chapter on Hermione's feelings. I think it's important we understand her as well as Harry. And don't get impatient; Harry's confession is coming chapter after this.



Chapter 6: Over and Over

Hermione laid in her bed, thinking. She could scarcely believe she had been so stupid. Anthony had sent her that letter nearly a month ago, and she hadn’t even asked him why he’d sent it with a school owl. To add to her own stupidity, she hadn’t even realised that it was the 15th, but had gone after him, risking expulsion. She was so ashamed, she felt like hiding her face even in the dark room where no one could see her. To think that she was Head Girl and she still had not remembered! How could Anthony have done this to her? To purposely tell her to meet him and then not show up—that didn’t sound like something he’d do. Hermione felt devastated. Just as she was thinking that she was going to have to have a serious talk with her boyfriend, an unexpected thought came to her. What if it had been a frame-up? What if someone had purposefully led her to the Astronomy Tower, hoping that she would get expelled? She couldn’t understand why someone would do that to her. The new Head Boy might think it funny. Hermione’s stomach churned as she thought of Draco Malfoy’s face if she were to have been expelled.

God, if it hadn’t been for Harry, she found herself thinking, I would have been thrown out of here for sure. I can’t believe he’d risk everything for me.

She told herself that any of her other friends would have done the same.

But they didn’t. It wasn’t Ron who came running after me, nor was it Ginny. Harry was the one who came after me, risking the only place that he has ever been safe and happy in. Why would he do this? He could have just sat there, praying to God that I’d come back all right, but…

Hermione was confused. She looked up at the ceiling, playing with a lock of her hair. She wished Harry was there with her right now so he could explain things to her. So she could feel safe, just like she’d done back in that closet. She was only realising it now, but Harry had given her back her strength and belief that they were going to be all right, when he held her for those few moments.

Hermione tried to argue with herself. After all, Anthony could do the same thing to her. He could even make her forget about the important things in her life. She had completely lost it when Anthony had told her he had a surprise for her, for example. She really was head-over-heels in love with him. Well, not really love, but she did feel strongly about him. Anthony had the power to melt her completely with just one of his looks. She did feel a little helpless around him.

With Harry it was completely different. She felt safe, contented whenever Harry was around her—like nothing would ever harm her when Harry was close by. She had never had a problem telling him exactly her feelings, and he was probably the only person who knew her just the way she was. He knew her every expression, her every mood, her every flaw—he knew her for what she was. She didn’t have to hide herself around Harry; she didn’t have to pretend to be something she wasn’t. He had always understood her, always believed in her, and always been there for her. Even Anthony could not compare to Harry. Harry would always be her best friend, and he’d always come first in her life. She would give up everything and anything for Harry, she decided as her eyelids began to drop, and she fell into an uneasy sleep.

***

Hermione heaved a sigh as she sat down in her Defence Against the Dark Arts class. Their professor, Ashley Lanett—who had thankfully lasted through the last year without being killed, cursed, or sacked, was talking about defending oneself from an army of ghosts. She was a short, young woman with wavy, dirty-blond hair, and scary silver eyes, and at the very moment, incredibly occupied with explaining the danger of ghosts. It appeared Voldemort had got quite a lot of them on his side, and they were likely to be very difficult to defeat.

However, for the first time in her seventeen-year-old life, Hermione was not taking in a word that Professor Lanett was saying. She had just had a talk with Anthony, demanding an explanation for the last night’s events. Not to her surprise, Anthony denied having sent her that letter and clearly showed distress that his girlfriend had nearly been expelled. But, he was a lot more interested in the fact that Harry had gone through all that trouble to make sure Hermione was okay, and she had spend the last half an hour telling him that there was nothing going on between her and Harry.

Given the fact that she had just wasted her time convincing Anthony to leave her and Harry’s relationship alone, she was extremely cross when a pretty Ravenclaw girl came out from behind them, put a hand on Anthony’s shoulder and said softly, “Do you think we can meet tonight, Anthony?� Poor Anthony was left speechless. He told the girl he couldn’t, then turned around to see Hermione shooting daggers at him with her eyes. He explained over and over again that he was just helping the girl with her Transfiguration homework and that there was nothing going on. Hermione was reminded forcibly of herself explaining Harry to Anthony. Although she wasn’t convinced much, she let the matter go, kissed Anthony hastily on the lips, and hurried to class.

Her mind was busy dwelling over everything that had just happened, and her eyes had a glazed kind of look. More than once she noticed Ron and Harry shooting glances at her behind their books. They were clearly preoccupied at her lack of participation in class. When Professor Lanett asked them why ghosts would have advantages over humans and what would humans need to do to be able to defeat ghosts, nobody was able to answer her question. At once, all the heads in the classroom turned, as one, in Hermione’s direction. She did not appear to have heard anything. She was gazing into space, her head rested on her hands and her lips in a slight pout. While everyone stared at her in wonder, Harry felt, not for the first time, that sudden urge to kiss her. This was the last thing he could do though, so he contented himself with staring at her, which came off unnoticed, because the whole class was doing the same thing.

Hermione seemed to jerk herself out of her trance. She glanced in Professor Lanett’s direction and asked humbly, “Could you repeat the question, please, Professor?�

"What are some of the advantages and disadvantages ghosts have over us and what do we do to defeat them?� Professor Lanett asked, arms crossed and looking at Hermione with narrowed eyes.

Hermione seemed to lighten up.

“Well, ghosts have one advantage over us and that’s that they’re not solid. They can pass through anything. Also, the main tactic they use against us is that they pass right through somebody, but they stay there for a very long time. The coldness of them takes over and you lose feeling in every part of your body and eventually fall asleep. Which makes it very easy for the person who is in charge of that ghost to kill you or something similar. They can also be there in a large number, simply to distract you,� she paused, taking a deep breath and went on, “However, we have an advantage as well, and that is that we can use wands while they cannot hold them. The spell used against ghosts isn’t very simple though and it requires a lot of concentration and if done properly it’s supposed to vanish the ghost somewhere else, out of your way. Unfortunately, it’s the only spell that works against them, not even ‘Impedimenta’ does.�

The whole class sighed as Professor Lanett awarded Gryffindor 20 points. Their Hermione was back to normal.

Having finished with her speech, Hermione went back to her daydreaming. She thought about the mysterious letter, about her last moments with Anthony, and she felt jealousy spark up in her.

But that wasn’t the only thing that was disturbing her. Over and over, she replayed last night’s events, over and over she thought about Harry coming to her rescue. Over and over again Harry’s face would appear in her mind, and she found she wasn’t able to make it disappear.

First, I want to thank my beta, Ron Weasley, for all of the help!

Disclaimer: The title is from a song by Mario and I'm just borrowing it!


Chapter 7: Let Me Love You

It was a late Saturday night, and everyone was going back to their own dormitories to get some much-awaited sleep. The whole of Gryffindor House had been having a party—for no apparent reason—and now everyone was ready to go to bed—everyone except Harry, however.

It had been over a week since he told Ron—and himself—that he was going to tell Hermione the truth. This, however, was easier said than done. He had had many chances this last week, because him and Hermione had been alone at least twice a day—Ron wanting to give Harry enough space. But whenever Harry felt he was ready to tell her, whenever he would look up at her and see her looking back at him with those deep, thoughtful eyes of hers, his throat would clog up, he’d get tongue-tied, and all he was able to do was merely clear his throat and continue whatever he was doing. He was getting sick and tired of it though, and he decided tonight was the night he would just come out and say it.

Hermione hadn’t had that much fun that week either. She hadn’t been her usual know-it-all self, and she had hardly uttered more than a sentence per day. Harry had noticed that whenever she thought no one was looking she would gaze absently into space, her face wistful. He wondered whether the news he had in store for her would shake her out of her torpor.

On this very night, Hermione was staring into the fireplace as usual, and she seemed to be completely out of it. She was wearing a pair of baggy sweatpants and matching sweatshirt, her hair tied in a lose ponytail at the base of her head. To Harry, she had never looked more beautiful. After a few minutes, she made to get up and go to her dormitory, but Harry grabbed her hand and turned her around.

“Hermione,� Harry started, wondering how on Earth he was going to do this, “I have something I want to tell you. Not here, though,� he said, looking around at the crowd of people around them. “I was wondering if we could go to the Room of Requirement.�

Hermione looked at him again, silently telling him that she was way too tired to go all the way to the Room of Requirement.

“Please,� Harry begged her, “it’s important.�

Hermione found she was unable to say no to that imploring glance.

“Fine,� she said in a resigned tone, “but go get your cloak. I don’t want anyone to see us.�

Harry was gone and came back in a matter of seconds.

Together, under Harry’s Invisibility Cloak, they walked to the Room of Requirement, and after walking three times in front of it, they saw a door spring open in front of them. It looked normal, just like any other old door. Harry took a deep breath and stepped in, Hermione right behind him.

They were inside a cosy, well-lit room, fairly small, with only one couch in front of a large fireplace and a small table next to it with two steaming, hot cups of tea. Hermione breathed in the aromatic scent of the tea and sat down on the couch, stretching. Harry followed her.

“So,� she said, after she had taken in every tiny detail of the room, “what did you want to say to me that was so important?�

Harry stopped in the act of picking up one of the cups of tea. He hadn’t been expecting her to ask him so soon, or so directly for that matter. He picked up his cup, raised it to his lips, took a sip or two, and lowered it, all the while watched curiously by Hermione.

He turned around in the couch so he was facing her. He took a deep breath and took her hands in his own.

“Hermione,� he said his voice quiet, “first of all I want to tell you how important you are to me, and that I would never want to lose you. You have been there for me every step of the way, and I don’t think I would have made it this far without you.�

He stroked her hand gently with his thumb and looked up to see Hermione looking very taken aback. Maybe this hadn’t been what she’d expected.

All right, so far so good, he told himself, now on to the next part. Oh God, how do I tell her?

“I’m happy you feel this way, Harry, but I don’t understand—� she whispered, clearly confused. Had Harry dragged her all the way here just to tell her he valued her friendship?

“But that’s not all, Hermione. I’ve realised that no one has ever supported me the way you have or given me better reasons to live life. You were the one who convinced me life was worth living, after…after what happened to Sirius.� Harry said looking her directly in the eye.

Okay, that was the easy part. I didn’t tell her anything she didn’t know already. Now…

Hermione was looking at him enquiringly. Something was definitely not right. She waited for Harry to continue. Only Harry seemed to have lost all desire of talking. His face was extremely red—which was saying something as Harry didn’t usually blush—and he was looking at her hand in his, avoiding her eyes.

“Um, Harry?� Hermione asked tentatively.

Harry glanced up at her, still not able to move his hand away from hers. He tried to speak, but his tongue felt extremely large in his mouth; whenever he would try to open his mouth, he found he couldn’t. It was the same feeling he’d gotten all of last week.

Just tell her! It’s Hermione, for God’s sake! She’s not going to laugh at you…or will she?

“Harry, come on,� Hermione said her voice a little worried, “do you want to tell me something?�

Harry nodded, avoiding her searching glance once more.

“Well, you know that you can tell me anything. And it must be important if you brought me all the way here. Now, tell me, what is it?� Hermione asked and her voice took on some of that bossy quality Harry knew so well. He smiled in spite of everything.

This is it…

“My…er…well…my feelings for you…er…they’ve well…changed Hermione.�

“Like…like how do you mean?� she stuttered, her eyes boring into Harry’s own piercingly-green ones. He noticed she was trying to remain calm.

Harry took a deep breath once more and tried to voice the thought that had been haunting him for nearly two months.

“Well…er…�

Love is such a strong word. But fancy doesn’t sound right either. Think, Harry, think.

“Harry, you’re scaring me. What is it?� Hermione was sounding quite worried now.

You’re sure going to be scared when you hear this.

“Um.�

There’s no other way. Love is the word.

“Um, well, you could say…I love you?�

“Love? Harry, are you all right? Do you…what do you mean?�

He saw her eyes widen as she stared at him, reading the answer in his eyes. She was now very aware of Harry’s eyes on her and of his hand still stroking hers. This was Harry in front of her—her best friend. Her best friend certainly didn’t love her. This had to be a joke, it was too much. She thought about laughing and telling Harry he nearly had her fooled, but stopped short at the sight of him. His expression looked pained; there was deep admiration and real love in his eyes as he looked at her. He was blushing furiously and his hand seemed to be shaking in hers. Hermione could tell this was no joke. She took her hands out of Harry’s grasp and absent-mindedly took the hair tie out of her hair and ran her fingers through it. She was searching very hard for words, but she appeared to have lost the power of speech.

“You…you can’t love me, Harry,� she said shaking her head as though trying to ward off the thought, “You just can’t.�

Harry remained silent, watching her think. What could he say now? All he could do was wait.

“Harry, how on Earth…how…why…� Hermione stuttered incoherently. “Why are you telling me this?� she finally asked, looking at him desperately.

“Well, it’s just…I mean…I just can’t take it anymore! Watching you with him, and…and…� He took a deep breath again, to steady himself. Hermione didn’t seem angry, just confused. She seemed to be struggling to understand what Harry was so desperately trying to tell her. It was her kind and compassionate expression that made Harry say everything he’d been keeping locked up for so long.

“You have no idea of what I’m going through. You don’t know what it’s like to be eaten up by jealousy or…or watch the woman you love in someone else’s arms. And the worst thing is I…I can’t stop feeling this way. Don’t look at me like that! Do you think I haven’t tried? I just…it looks like you will always have my heart, Hermione; there’s nothing I can do about it. But I want you to be happy, so I will only give up on this if it doesn’t make you happy, Hermione, but think. Please think about it.�

He stopped, realising he had said too much, given too much away. He had never intented to tell her every single thing he felt, but it had all just poured out of him, and he had not been able to restrain himself. Feeling slightly horrified at what he’d just said, he watched her jump up and start pacing around the room.

Hermione, meanwhile, was doing some serious thinking. She could just tell Harry she didn’t love him, that she loved Anthony. He certainly would want her to be happy. He had just said so. But something stopped her from doing just that. Her mind seemed to be spinning really fast; she was extremely confused and she buried her face in her hands, feeling worse than she had ever done.

She felt Harry come up behind her and she jumped at his touch. Harry, realising he’d done something wrong, withdrew his hand from her shoulder, trying his best not to look torn apart.

“Why, Harry? Why now? Now that I’m finally happy! Now that I have everything I’ve ever wanted!� she burst out, angrily. Harry, after all, had no right to tell her he loved her, when she was getting along just fine.

“Well, I’m sorry!� he yelled back at her. Something inside of him was telling him to shut up, that he’d gone way too far. But Harry did not stop talking. It seemed he had reached breaking point and was far beyond his usual line of reasoning, “No. You know what? I’m not sorry! What should I be sorry for? Loving you? And tell me, Hermione! Look me in the eye and tell me that you really are happy!�

He grabbed her arm, turning her around and forced her head up with his free hand. She looked back at him and spoke, “I am,� but her voice was so low, he could hardly hear it. She was so confused, Harry’s eyes seemed to fill up her whole mind, she couldn’t think anymore.

“Let me be there for you, Hermione,� he said his voice softening. “Just say the word, and I will never leave your side. Let me hold you and protect you, let me love you,� Harry whispered, raising his slightly trembling finger and tracing the curve of her cheek, like he’d wanted to do for so long. She seemed to shiver under his touch.

“Oh, Harry, how can I put this?� she cried desperately, not tearing herself away from Harry’s grip. “I’m with someone else. I can’t possibly…I mean…I couldn’t return your love…I’m sorry…I just…I don’t think we can be together,� she finished lamely.

Harry felt as if his heart had been ripped away from his body. Hermione sounded serious to him. He knew he had no chance, knew that there was no way Hermione would say yes to him, but hearing her put it into words was worse than he could have ever imagined.

“If this is what you want, it will not ruin our friendship, Hermione,� he found himself saying, though his voice seemed far away and distant. “I won’t let it. You won’t have to feel uncomfortable around me. If this is what you want, I will lock this love away—forever.�

Hermione was astounded by the harsh way he pronounced his last words. She had never known Harry to be like this. But did she really want Harry to stop loving her? She was prodding her own feelings, trying to find the right answer before it was too late. As if knowing what she was thinking, Harry spoke up with his voice still harsh.

“I will never stop loving you Hermione—never. I wouldn’t be able to. You know that. But I can’t risk our friendship. So unless…unless you tell me it’s not too late…� He glanced at her, his voice growing soft once more. He was noting the perplexed look on her face. He still hadn’t let go of her, and Hermione had made no attempt to get away.

Again, Harry felt astounded at how sure he sounded, at how much he had said without really meaning to. He had never felt comfortable around girls, never had he known how to act around them. Yet with Hermione something inside him just took over, and his emotions poured out of him before he could stop himself.

Not aware of doing it, Harry found himself pulling Hermione closer to him and putting his hand on her waist. With the other hand he grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. Hermione’s eyes shot upwards to meet Harry’s, just like her heart had just shot upwards in her throat. Harry lowered his head slowly, giving her time to protest if she wanted to. But she didn’t seem to want to do anything. She didn’t know what to do. Her mind was swirling with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions, and she found herself leaning into Harry’s kiss. Inches apart, Harry whispered, “Just say the word, Hermione, and I will be forever yours.�

Hermione couldn’t find the strength to say anything. She simply closed her eyes as their lips met for the first time. He kissed her softly, tasting the sweetness of her lips, his arms tightening around her waist, never wanting to let her go.


A/N: Oooh, I'm so nervous nervous about this chapter! Please leave reviews and tell me what you think of it! Also, I would advise not to get too exited about the ending of the chapter. Troubles aren't quite over.

Many thanks got my beta Ron Weasley, for all of the help with this story.

A/N: Sorry this chapter took so long, but I had a bit of trouble with it. It still doesn't feel completely right, but I don't know what else to do. Anyway, please tell me what you think.


Chapter 8: Distance

Hermione was back in the common room alone. She did not know how she managed to get back under that cloak with Harry by her side, walking so close next to her. This night had been a fiasco. She could not believe it had all happened so soon, no warning, nothing. Running her hand through her hair for the millionth time that night, she glanced over at the grandfather clock over the fireplace—four o’clock in the morning. She desperately needed some sleep, yet her brain was working too fast for her to be able to get any at all.

She lied down on the couch in front of the fire thinking very hard. Involuntarily, she raised her hand to her lips. They felt swollen, and she kept feeling the need to touch them. For the hundredth time since she’d gotten back from the Room of Requirement, she recalled her kiss with Harry. To say there had been fireworks was putting it lightly. She had never felt like that with any other guy, not with Krum or Anthony—and certainly not with Ron. Indeed, she felt like that was the first time she had kissed anyone at all. She banged her head on the couch—thank God it was soft.

Why, she told herself, why did that feel like my first kiss? Why did I grow all weak? Ugh! This is so frustrating!

She could not believe it happened. Her best friend…her best friend loved her, he’d kissed her, and he told her he wouldn’t be able to live without her. How was she ever supposed to face him after that?

Hermione was starting to have doubts about her answer. Again, everything came back to her as if it was happening now, in front of her eyes. She remembered that after her and Harry had pulled apart, they had looked into each other’s eyes for the longest time, Harry still holding her. She remembered feeling weak, and if Harry hadn’t been holding her, she would have certainly fallen to the ground. With all the strength and will-power she had left, she had muttered—

I can’t believe I told him so straight-out! What if I hurt him? Besides, did I…I think…I did the right thing when I told him…when I told him no, didn’t I?

She might have done the right thing, but she would never forget the look in Harry’s eyes when she’d uttered that one-syllable word. The way he immediately released her, the way his hands shook as he picked up his cloak and had thrown it over the both of them, or the way he had tried not to touch her during their whole trip back.

Once inside the common room, he’d thrown the cloak off, had looked her straight in the eye, and he’d said, “Is there…was there…anything I could have done to make you love me back?�

Poor Hermione. She just shook her head helplessly, not knowing what to do or say. Understanding it was beyond his control, Harry just nodded and walked to his dorm, a defeated look on his face. Hermione had succeeded at doing exactly the thing that she had never wanted to do. She had made Harry’s life more difficult than it already was.

Absent-mindedly, she hugged herself, missing the feel of Harry’s strong arms around her.

No, no, no, no! What are you thinking? she told herself. You already said no to Harry, so you might as well not beat yourself up with desires you don’t even understand! Besides, you’re with Harr—NO! You’re with Anthony, Hermione. His name is Anthony!

Again, she felt desperate, desperate to try and understand the situation, desperate to clear her feelings, desperate to go back in time so she wouldn’t have to have hurt Harry. How complicated it all was.

But her over-exhausted brain seemed to be giving up on her. She had no more strength to stay up, and just before her eyelids dropped and she fell into a troubled sleep, she caught sight of the clock again. It now read 5.17 AM.

***

A stray strand of hair had fallen over her face. He brushed it away and looked at her, his heart feeling as if a large crowd of Hippogriffs had walked all over it. How angelic she looked. Her expression was calm, serene, and she was smiling at something he could not see. She was breathing slowly, her chest rising and falling. Her sweatshirt was twisted to the side, revealing a sliver of porcelain-white skin. He noticed the goose bumps rising on her skin and produced, out of thin air, a feather quilt, placing it softly over her. She did not stir. He found himself unable to tear his gaze away from her, realising this would be one of the only chances he was going to have to look at her like this. The one word she’d said to him stabbed at his heart and he thought that he would never forget it. Amazing how a simple word could cause such heart-wrenching pain.

He was now on his knees in front of the couch where she was sleeping. He gently stroked her outstretched hand, wishing his love for her would just evaporate. Bending down, he kissed her forehead, willing himself to let her go. He placed an envelope on her lap and left the common room, feeling like he’d left his heart there too.

***

Hermione sat up and the feather quilt fell off her. She looked around and saw that the common room was empty and a blazing sun was shining outside of the window. It looked like it was just past noon. Looking down, she saw the quilt that was still covering her legs. She wondered how it had gotten there. She got up and went back to her dormitory wanting to freshen up and forget about all of her problems, at least for a little bit.

After a half an hour, she reappeared in the common room, feeling slightly better, but the prospect of facing Harry still haunting her. Just as she was making for the portrait hole to see where everyone was, she noticed something white on the couch where she had spent her night. Picking it up, she saw it was an envelope with her name written across it. She opened it and her eyes moved rapidly across the parchment as she read:

Hermione,

I can only imagine what you’re feeling right now. I understand that my confession last night might have left you a bit confused. It is useless telling you how I feel about it. This is why, I’m sure you will understand, I am asking for just a bit of distance between us, at least for a little while. It will not be an easy feat for me to face you again after what happened, and I don’t think I could look at you and Anthony together for a while. I just need to regroup myself. I hope this doesn’t bother you. But I want you to remember, Hermione that nothing and no one can ever come between us. Even if we’re not exactly talking to each other, you know you can always count on me for anything. I want to apologise for the awkward position I have put you in.

With love from Harry.

Hermione couldn’t believe her eyes. Harry was distancing himself from her, and it was her own fault. Her best friend didn’t want to have anything to do with her, because she had hurt him so badly. How was she ever going to get through everything without Harry’s friendship? And he was apologising for making her feel uncomfortable.

Tears formed in her eyes, but before they could make their way down her cheeks, she wiped them away with one angry swipe of her hand and told herself to get a grip. After all, she was supposed to be strong, she was supposed to care only about books and marks and such things.

Still clutching Harry’s letter in her hand, she made for the portrait hole once more. Yet again, she was stopped going through it. Ginny came running down the dormitory steps and halted right in front of Hermione's feet. Noticing the lost look on her best friend’s face she asked, “Hermione, what’s the matter?� Hermione simply handed her the letter. She thought she would have to explain what Harry meant by his confession, but Ginny didn’t ask. She scanned the letter, than looked at Hermione with sorrow-filled eyes.

“So he told you?� she said her tone pensive. “And I’m guessing you gave him a negative answer? Poor guy.�

Hermione looked at Ginny incredulously.

“You knew?� she gaped. “You knew how he felt?�

“Well, yes, Ron told me. He was desperate to try and hook you up, too.�

“Ron knew as well? Does the whole school know?� Hermione yelled, unable to restrain herself. “And what do you mean, Ron tried to hook us up?�

“No, Hermione, me and Ron are the only ones who know, and we’re certainly not the whole school. As for Ron, he was the one who sent you that letter for the date on October 15th. He thought you might realise that Harry would go to any lengths to save you. That git,� she added, her teeth gritted.

Hermione felt her mouth hang open. All of this had been going on under her very nose, and she hadn’t noticed a thing.

“Are you going to give him the distance?� Ginny’s voice broke through her thoughts.

“Well, yes, if that’s what he wants,� Hermione replied icily.

“That’s not what he wants, Hermione, and you know it. It’s what you want.�

There was a moment of silence as Ginny’s words penetrated Hermione’s brain and she raised a hand to her lips once again.

“Are you okay?� Ginny asked her. “I mean you are quite sure you did the right thing, aren’t you? You don’t feel the same way Harry does, right?�

Hermione felt it was time to change the topic. She didn’t want to dwell much on her feelings for Harry anymore.

“I suppose everyone is outside?� she asked Ginny, her tone casual. “Is it nice out?�

“Yes, it’s very nice, although a bit cold,� Ginny answered her, clearly understanding Hermione’s attempt to change the topic. “Maybe we should go outside too.�

“All right,� Hermione said a bit more cheerfully. She deeply appreciated Ginny not insisting on talking about Harry. She was feeling stone-cold just thinking about Harry not wanting to talk to her.

***

A month had passed since Harry had confessed his feelings to Hermione. It had been exceedingly hard for Hermione to get used to Harry’s distance. They hardly talked to each other anymore, and Hermione had long since stopped helping Harry with his homework, which had obviously showed, because Harry’s marks had dropped considerably.

Harry was getting used to being alone. He had to admit that distancing himself from Hermione was the best thing he could have done. Since he didn’t see her much, he didn’t have to deal with controlling himself around her. His love for Hermione had never disappeared though, and he still loved her with every ounce of strength he possessed. Now, his heart was an open wound that had just healed, but only one scratch was needed to make the wound bleed again. He would think he was over Hermione and then, suddenly, he would see her talking or laughing with Anthony and all of the hurt and anguish would come back to him.

Hermione, on the other hand, was absolutely devastated that Harry wouldn’t talk to her. She felt as if something big and important had been taken out of her. She would slump around, at times neglecting her homework so that everyone was worried about her, at times burying herself in books, trying to distract herself. Whenever she caught sight of Harry, her heart would leap, her eyes would light up, and she’d find herself hoping against hope that he would talk to her. Harry, however, would merely nod or say a feeble ‘hi’, leaving Hermione more downcast than ever before. Even Anthony had noticed something was wrong. He often asked her what was happening or why she never listened to him any more. Hermione tried to put on a show, just for her boyfriend’s sake, because, after all, he had no fault in all this. But whenever she was laughing with Anthony, her eyes would catch Harry’s tortured look and the laughter would die in her throat. Harry had promised her this wouldn’t ruin their friendship, but it certainly had. If only she’d—

“Move out of the way, Granger,� a drawling voice behind her interrupted her thoughts. “Some of us have more important things to do than stand around looking at a brick wall all day.�

Hermione looked up and saw the sneering face of Draco Malfoy, current Head Boy and Harry’s enemy since eleven years old. Not in the mood for him, Hermione moved slightly to the left, letting him pass.

“Haven’t seen you with Potty lately,� he sneered, looking down at her. After all, everyone knew she and Harry weren’t talking anymore, they just didn’t know why. “Don’t tell me he doesn’t want to hang out with you anymore? Was he actually smart enough to realise that nothing good could possibly come out of being friends with a know-it-all, bushy-haired Mudblood?�

Hermione flushed. She was used to hearing Malfoy’s taunts, but this one hurt especially bad. The one thing that had bothered her wasn’t Malfoy calling her a Mudblood, or calling her other names—it was him telling her that Harry didn’t want to be around her anymore. Though, of course, Malfoy had got the completely wrong reason. Hermione was just about to reply to him, when she saw something strange was happening. Malfoy’s ears seemed to be elongating and becoming furrier. Pretty soon, instead of his normal ears, Draco Malfoy was wearing a pair of donkey ears, that suited him quite well too, thought Hermione. Malfoy seemed to have noticed, since he turned around and stared at something Hermione could not see.

“You never know when to stop, do you Potter,� he whispered, his voice malicious and his eyes narrowed. “But it’s not going to last long, I can promise you that. He will have you finished soon enough. And I’d watch out for her parents, if I were you,� he added, nodding at Hermione. Now pointing at his new ears, he said once more, “I’m not going to bother with this. They’ll be gone in no time. And so will you, Potter.� And with that he strode off, waving his wand at his donkey ears and making them disappear.

Harry and Hermione were left looking at each other. Harry felt a painful twinge in his heart as he looked at her, but that was all. Hermione’s eyes were filling with tears.

“Hi,� she said.

“Hey,� Harry replied. It was high time they started talking to each other, and now was the time to do it.

They looked at each other for the longest time, until Harry realised the old wound was beginning to bleed again.

“Don’t worry about him,� he told her, while walking towards the Gryffindor common room, “he was bound to say something like that, wasn’t he?�

“I know, it’s just that…it was horrible. And what he said about you … I …�Hermione’s voice trembled as she spoke.

“Don’t worry about it,� Harry said, trying to calm her down.

Hermione said nothing. She was feeling horrible. She knew she should be happy that Harry was talking to her again, but the taunt about her parents had taken quite a lot out of her. She felt shaken, and she suddenly felt that she didn’t only want Harry to talk to her. She looked sideways at him and eyed his strong arms, the arms that had held her more than a month ago. She found herself desperately wishing that those arms would embrace her again and offer her some peace and stability, like she knew they could. She inhaled sharply, thanking God that Harry hadn’t noticed anything unusual.

Together, they climbed through the portrait hole and sat across one another at one of the tables in the common room. They had so much to say. One month was a very long time after all. They talked and talked, and they couldn’t help but feel happy that this was happening—that they finally had each other once more.

Many thanks to my beta Orlaith for this chapter. Thank you!

Now, I know you've had to wait a long while for this chapter and I'm sorry that it's a bit of a filler, but it was neccessary. Writer's block is a horrible thing and a kind of mistake happened, but anyway. Thank you so much to all of you who were patient and have stuck by with this fanfic, it means a lot!

Without further ado, here it is!



Chapter 9: Friends

“Hermione, we need to talk,� Anthony said, looking at her with an unusually serious expression on his face.

All of the seventh years were inside an empty classroom talking, studying, and gossiping, wanting to escape the pouring rain outside. Hermione was sitting on the floor, next to Anthony, her gaze fixed on Harry who was talking animatedly to Ron about the new Firebolt 11. Both were sitting on top of a desk in a corner of the classroom, not paying attention to anything else except their own conversation.

“Hermione? Hermione, are you listening?� Anthony asked her, snapping his fingers in front of her face.

“Huh?� was all Hermione could manage, her face still turned towards Harry.

“I said we need to talk,� Anthony stated, his voice irritated. It was getting quite annoying having to repeat things to Hermione at least twice before she registered what he was saying.

“Yes, I suppose you’re right. I’ve been wanting to talk to you too,� Hermione sighed, finally tearing her eyes away from Harry’s childish grin. She focused on Anthony instead.

“Well, has it … I mean … have you realized that it’s, well … not—“ Anthony was cut off by Hermione who sighed and nodded in agreement.

“Not quite working out anymore? Yes, I have.�

They looked at each other in silence for a while.

“Do you want to talk about it?� Hermione asked tentatively. She didn’t really understand what was happening to her and was hoping Anthony would help her find the answers she was looking for.

“Ok,� Anthony began, nodding at a girl who had just waved at him. “I think it’s no one’s fault really, but let’s just say you don’t always listen to me anymore. You don’t even have time for me and even when we do see each other … it’s like your mind is always on something else.�

Or maybe I’m just not the kind of girlfriend you’re looking for, Hermione thought. After all, Anthony hadn’t changed his attitude at all during the last months.

“You’re just not there for me anymore, either. Spiritually, I mean. It feels like I’m doing everything alone,� she responded.

Silence again. Hermione’s eyes left Anthony’s and found Harry’s once more. The people sitting everywhere in the classroom disappeared and all she could think about was him. Could he be the reason she was now distant with Anthony?

“No hard feelings?� he asked her.

“No hard feelings … Is there someone else?� she found herself asking Anthony.

“Um … well … sort of,� he replied a bit hesitantly.

“It’s that girl isn’t it? The one you were helping with her Transfiguration homework?� Hermione asked, and was surprised to see she wasn’t hurt when she saw Anthony blushing.

“We … I mean, I haven’t cheated on you, just so you know … but well … I think we could … you know,�

Hermione nodded. It didn’t come as a surprise that they were breaking up. After all, since Harry had confessed his feelings to her — even before that — since that memorable night of October 15th, she had been completely distracted. She didn’t know what was what anymore. Anthony had discovered his feelings and was acting upon them; why couldn’t she do the same?

"What about you?� Anthony’s voice broke through her thoughts. “Is there someone else?�

Hermione wasn’t able to respond. She knew she didn’t see Harry as just her friend anymore, but wasn’t sure whether she wanted to be more than just friends with him.

“Hermione?�

Anthony had long given up trying to understand his girlfriend. She had always been somewhat unattainable for him. She was always talking about things he could never understand, she always had the air of someone who wanted to do something important for the world. For the first time Anthony was seeing a different side of Hermione. She looked confused, sad, and angry with herself all at the same time and he wanted to help her. She had made him understand the greater things in life and he wanted to lend a hand to the person who had made his life wonderful, even if it was only for a short amount of time.

“Hermione, is there something bothering you?� he asked her delicately. “Please tell me if there’s anything I can do,�

She smiled slightly and wondered whether she could tell Anthony about her dilemma. She looked into his chocolaty-brown eyes and thought about all of the times they’d spent together. Would Anthony be angry if she told him about Harry? Probably not. She took a deep breath preparing to pour out her heart and soul.

“It’s this, actually. Well, there’s this guy… and he told me he… had feelings for me a while back. Now the thing is… is… I’ve always been really close to him and… well, I did tell him no, but ever since, I’ve sort of… wondered whether I did the right thing or not… and I know that I want to be more than friends with him and yet… I don’t know if I want to be more than friends with him…�

Anthony looked at her and he couldn’t help but feel surprised. Hermione had always had a way of catching him off guard. He smiled, thinking that the only person she could be talking about was Potter. It certainly wasn’t Weasley, because she had gone out with him the year before. He didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of this earlier. The way Potter looked at the two of them when they were together, the fact that he’d barely talked to Anthony during the whole time he’d been dating Hermione, and now that he thought about it, the fact that Harry and Hermione hadn’t talked for quite sometime this last month. Hermione hadn’t been the same either. He would always catch her looking at Potter, and whenever Anthony would try to kiss her or draw her close, she’d pull away if Harry was anywhere in sight.

But it seemed Hermione was having doubts. Her and Potter had been friends for six years and it was probably really hard for her to see him in a different light. But if Anthony knew Hermione — and he thought he knew her at least a little bit — she wouldn’t throw something away without thoroughly analyzing it first.

“Hermione, do you, or do you not, have feelings for him? It’s that simple.�

“I… yes, I think I do,� she whispered, keeping her eyes on the floor.

“That’s what I thought,� he smiled mildly. “Well, then what is it? Are you afraid? Tell me. What is it you’re afraid of?�

Hermione found it hard to reply.

“I don’t know. I really don’t know,� she whispered, eyes swimming with tears.

“If you’re afraid that your relationship won’t work out and then you’ll lose him as a friend as well, don’t be. You know full well that Harry will never abandon you,� Anthony said looking at her with compassion.

She shook her head helplessly, not even surprised that Anthony had figured out who she was talking about.

“It’s not that. I’m… that’s not it. I’m scared of… of losing him. Of… Anthony you know how it is these days. With Voldermort…�

“You fear him dying? But why would you staying away from him, help Harry not die?� Anthony replied looking confused.

Hermione flinched at his use of the word ‘die’. Die and Harry definitely did not belong in the same sentence.

“It wouldn’t. I just… if I got really close to him and then… if I lost him… I…� Words failed her.

“Oh, I see. Now you’re making sense. You don’t want to have a stronger relationship with Harry because you’re afraid that he’ll… er… go, and then you’ll be hurt more than if you were just friends with him? Well, let me just say that’s very selfish of you, Hermione,� he smirked.

“No, it’s not! Its—�

“Hermione, I thought you were supposed to be smart? If you have feelings for him, for goodness sake, do something about it! What you’ve just said makes absolutely no sense. If you’re scared for Harry, then this is the best time to do something about it. If he does go, you’ll regret any decision to stay away from him for the rest of your life,� Anthony finished, amazed at his own perceptiveness.

Hermione wasn’t speaking, but looking at Anthony intently.

“Life is short, Hermione. You have to take advantage of situations, because you never know what’s going to happen. Especially now. We just never know…� Anthony spoke again.

The bell rang, as if to emphasize the bells that were ringing in Hermione’s head. She followed Harry, who had just gotten up and was leaving the room, with wide eyes, not daring to believe her own feelings, Anthony’s words, nothing. Anthony was right. She couldn’t let Harry go, she just couldn’t.

She practically threw herself on Anthony — as people passing by looked at them surprised – thanking him over and over for all of his wise words, for helping her when she needed it most, and for encouraging her to follow her heart.

“I guess we’re still friends then, right?� he asked her after she’d pulled away from him.

“The best,� Hermione beamed at him and got up to leave. Just as she’d reached the door and was about to open it, she turned back.

“Anthony? It’s sort of been a while since this happened. You don’t think … his feelings have changed, do you?� she asked him worriedly.

“Nah, of course not. I saw the way he looked at you when he was leaving. No chance.� He smiled at her.

Hermione started for the door once more.

“Good luck!� Anthony called out behind her.

She waved back at him and walked slowly to Gryffindor Tower, taking her time and watching the storm outside of the tall windows. She glanced at the Quidditch pitch, remembering Harry’s match in their third year which had taken place in similar conditions. Looked at the lake being pounded by the rain, remembering her and Harry’s walks around it. Looked at Hagrid’s hut which was currently emitting large puffs of smoke from its chimney, remembering her and Harry’s late-night visits. Shaking her head and smiling she thought she should have realized before all that Harry meant to her and all that he stood for in her life.

***

Hermione entered the boys’ dormitory as quietly as she could. She could see that some of the boys were asleep and she didn’t want to wake them up. She slowly went up to Harry’s bed and tried to tell whether he was sleeping or not.

“Harry?� she whispered lowering her head, curls falling over her eyes.

“Hermione, is that you?� came a whisper from the bed next to Harry’s.

“Ron?� Hermione asked, quite forgetting to whisper.

“He’s sleeping,� Ron said waving his hand towards Harry’s bed. “He said he had a headache. Was there something you wanted to tell him?�

“Um, yes, but I’ll wait until he wakes up,� Hermione said, making her way to the dormitory door.

“What did you want to tell him?� Ron inquired.

“Nothing, I just … You’ll hear about it later,� Hermione answered averting her head.

The next words that came out of Ron’s mouth made Hermione’s insides wither and she turned away as quickly as she could. She closed the door behind her, pretending she hadn’t heard what Ron had said. Throwing herself on the couch in front of the fire she thought that it was no wonder it hadn’t worked out with Ron; he could be such a pain! How dare he think that she’d wanted to hurt Harry! Though, that hadn’t been what he’d said, of course.

You don’t know what you’ve put him through.

It’s true, Hermione thought. I’ve made his life so difficult. And why? Just because I was too afraid, because I was being selfish, because I was overanalyzing everything. Oh God, how could I? We’ve lost so much time… I can’t believe I’ve been this stupid. But it’s all over now. It will be alright. I know it’s going to be alright.

Well, it's nice to be back.

First of all, I would like to apologize for the long wait and hope you all are not too ofended. I must also say that I'm having a lot of trouble with ch. 11, I'm working on a monthly challenge, and school starts soon, so I don't know when I can update next. You have been warned.

Next, this is the last chapter of Part 1 and you'll understand why at the end of it. I want to thank all of you who have made it this far. Hopefully you'll stick around for Part 2.

Now having bored all of you to death, without further ado, here it is.

As usual, many thanks to my wonderful Beta, Orlaith!



Chapter 10: Dreams

He was in a dimly lit room looking down at a man cowering on the floor. All around him there were portraits of old looking people, but they weren’t moving. A nice, but worn out carpet on the floor and a couple of moth-eaten couches were the only other things in the room. It looked like it would have been a nice room to quietly read or write, except for the fact that there were lit torches, emitting a cold, almost colourless flame, running all along the walls. There was a certain unwelcoming feeling to it. A cold voice filled the room as he spoke.

“Very well, Lucius, very well done. The Dark Lord is very pleased with you,�

The blond man on the floor spoke, sounding proud of himself.

“Thank you, master,�

The Dark Lord twirled his wand about with his long, white fingers.

“Thanks to you, we are one step closer to breaking into Hogwarts School and taking care of that old fool. And the boy, of course. I believe I could have managed it sooner if the circumstance had been … different. Shame we never found out what that prophecy said.�

Lucius Malfoy’s eyes widened in fear. Anytime his master would speak about the prophecy, it was only a matter of time before the Cruciatus Curse came out of his lips.

“Very well,� the Dark Lord spoke again. “Send Bella to me. I must tell her how to proceed next. And Lucius? The Dark Lord knows how to repay favours. Your reward will come very soon.�

Lucius walked out of the room smiling slightly, leaving Voldemort muttering to himself.

“Yes. It won’t be long. The end of the school is near.�

***

“AARGGGHHHHHHHHHH!�

Harry Potter fell from his bed, clutching his scar, screaming and writhing in pain. It was pain beyond anything he’d ever felt after dreams like this. He didn’t know where he was, what he was doing, who was so desperately trying to speak to him. It felt almost like he was being possessed by Voldemort once again. He couldn’t take it … he wouldn’t be able to calm down. Not only his scar, his whole body was in pain. Hot knives were cutting into him from every direction. Even the Cruciatus Curse was nothing compared to this agony.

Suddenly he heard, as if in a dream, a voice talking, begging, and pleading him to listen to her.

“Harry, Harry please, calm down,� the voice was saying. “Please, Harry, please, we’re right here. You’re at Hogwarts. You’re safe. I’m right here, Harry, please …�

With a tremendous effort, Harry opened his eyes. There was a girl bending down over him, tears in her eyes and a young man right behind her. Harry stopped screaming as the pain diminished and he looked up at the pair of them, panting. His eyes were watery as he looked at the girl, who was now trying to pull him up off the floor and into a sitting position. He knew who the girl, looking at him with such concern written in her eyes was, and yet he didn’t know how. Then as he looked into her chocolaty-brown eyes, something clicked into place.

“Hermione!� he said, immediately jumping to his feet.

“Yes, Harry, it’s me. What’s wrong? Was it another vision?� she asked, her voice soothing, trying to pull him back down on his bed.

Harry nodded wildly, hesitantly sinking on his bed.

“Yes, he … he … I.� He was finding it very hard to form proper sentences.

“It’s ok, Harry. Voldemort is far away. He can’t hurt you. We’re here at Hogwarts. We’re safe,� Hermione said again, trying to calm herself as much as Harry.

“I … no … we’re not safe. We’re—� he stuttered.

“Harry, of course we’re safe. It was a dream. We’re right here Harry, right here,� Hermione said tenderly, pushing his sweaty bangs out of his eyes.

“It’s alright, mate. Really,� Ron said in a trembling voice. He’d always hated how torn up Harry would become after every dream of Voldemort.

“I have to go to Dumbledore,� Harry said standing up and making for the door. “It’s too important. He … no one is safe.�

“Wait, Harry. You can’t go alone. I’m coming with you,� Hermione said, her voice sounding clear and strong, even though she was preoccupied at what Harry had said. No one is safe?

Harry nodded again. The fact that Hermione was coming with him meant the world to him. Hermione turned back to Ron, told him not to worry, and walked after Harry, who had apparently taken the corridor at a run.

He had not calmed down, she could tell. He was walking fast in front of her, clutching his scar, oblivious to the many stares that followed them. It hurt Hermione to see him this way. To see him so vulnerable and know that there was nothing she could do to ease his pain away.

Looking at the back of Harry’s head she got lost into her own thoughts. She had been half asleep when screams from the boys’ dormitories had woken her. She’d recognized the screams immediately, and had run to Harry as fast as she could. She held back tears as she remembered the lost way Harry had looked at her, as if he didn’t know who she was. That moment had proved to be almost more than she could handle. She wanted to tell him that she was there for him in every way possible and ease some of his pain away, but this was neither the time, nor the place to do it.

They had reached the gargoyle flanking Dumbledore’s office door.

“Sugar Quills,� Harry said and ran up the moving staircase.

Without pausing to knock, he walked into Dumbledore’s office and before Hermione had even managed to get inside, Harry had begun telling the Headmaster his dream.

“… and he said he was closer to breaking into Hogwarts… and then he told Malfoy to send Bellatrix to him … and that he’d be rewarded because … because he helped Voldemort and then … then … he said that the … end of Hogwarts was near,� Harry finished, all the while pacing back and forth in front of Dumbledore’s desk.

Hermione watched Harry, as fear poured through her. Could it be possible? Could Voldemort really have found a way in? After all, Dumbledore had made it nearly impossible to even get close to the school.

Dumbledore surveyed Harry closely over his half-moon spectacles. He didn’t seem surprised at Harry’s words, simply depressed.

“How do we know it wasn’t a trick?� Harry asked, his hand still flattening his scar.

“Alas, Harry, if it was only a trick. Unfortunately, the Order has known that Voldemort was planning to gain access to the school, but we didn’t know that he could manage it this soon. We are trying our best to keep him away, but he is stronger now than he has ever been before. However, nothing is over until it’s over. We mustn’t give up hope. However, there is something else of importance. How did this … vision affect you, Harry? Was it worse than all others?�

“Well, sir, it was pretty horrible … but I don’t think it was wors—�

But Harry wasn’t able to finish his sentence, because he collapsed on his knees right in front of them, hands pressed against his scar and yelling worse than he had after he’d woken up. Dumbledore made to go to Harry, but Hermione beat him to it. She kneeled down in front of Harry, placing her hands on his arms and tried to talk to him. Over and over, she told Harry that it was fine, that it would all be over soon, that she was there with him, unsure of whether he could hear her.

Dumbledore came up behind them and looked at Harry carefully, wishing just like Hermione, that there was something he could do to help him through his pain. After those minutes of pure agony, Harry finally stopped yelling, and lay quietly, Hermione’s arms still around him.

Dumbledore and Hermione gently helped him on his feet and he swayed ominously.

“This is what I was afraid of,� he sighed. “I knew that the effects would be much stronger, because it is harder to penetrate one’s mind after Occlumency lessons. How do you feel Harry?�

Harry said nothing, but wiped the sweat off his forehead with his sleeve. After a few moments he spoke.

“I’m fine, sir,� he said breathing deeply.

“Very well. Now, if you are feeling better, I would kindly ask you to go back to Gryffindor Tower, because I have a matter of great urgency to deal with. Everything will be taken care of, Harry. I ask you not to worry. If something comes up that you need to know, I will tell you.�

Dumbledore spoke calmly, leading the two out of his office. “I believe you all need to rest tonight.�

***

“But how is it possible?� Ron asked, his mouth wide open.

“Oh Ron, there must be a way in, of course there must be. Voldemort probably knows all of the old and complex spells, and even with Dumbledore’s protection we’re just not completely safe anymore.�

Hermione sighed, hands crossed and eyes unfocused.

“I bet that’s why he wanted to do that search of the castle in October!� Ron said, looking at both Harry and Hermione expectantly. “He probably wanted to make sure that everything was safe and that nothing was wrong!�

“Yes, you’re probably right. It’s not going to do us any good though,� Hermione sighed, still looking at the fire with unfocused eyes.

Ron, who had expected a bit more enthusiasm from both his friends about his ‘discovery’, looked at Hermione indignantly out of the corner of his eyes.

“Yeah, but still. You can’t tell me Dumbledore can’t do anything about it. He was the only one You-Know-Who ever feared,� Ron insisted.

“But Ron, Voldemort is stronger now. He’s gaining power, more power than ever. And Dumbledore’s not getting any stronger, just … well … just older. There’s only one solution to all this—�

She cut herself off in time, but Harry wasn’t listening to her. Five words kept repeating in themselves in his head …

…and the boy of course …

“Harry,� Hermione said, looking at beadily. “Are you keeping something from us? You didn’t say whether Voldemort mentioned you while talking to Malfoy. That’s what you’re hiding, isn’t it?�

Harry looked up at her, surprised. Truthfully, he hadn’t been trying to keep it away from them, just hadn’t wanted to discuss it with anyone. This really did amount to the same thing.

God, why does she have to know me so well, he thought.

“Yeah, well, the usual. You know, how he wants to kill me and everything,� he said bitterly.

That left both Ron and Hermione lost for words.

“I reckon we’ve got to stop worrying about it,� Harry said in a resigned sort of voice. “It’ll happen some day—�

“Harry, don’t you dare say that!� Hermione said in a clear and strong voice, but her eyes were becoming glassy. “I will not have you feeling sorry for yourself!�

Harry simply looked at her. He felt tired and empty. He didn’t feel sorry for himself. He didn’t feel anything anymore.

“Yeah, Harry … You can’t say stuff like that …� But words failed Ron. He’d never been much good at this comforting kind of thing. “Well, I’m off to bed,� he said after awhile, getting up and yawning. “Hang in there, mate.�

After Ron had gone, Hermione got up and took his place on the couch, next to Harry.

“Are you sure you’re ok, Harry?� she asked timidly, not wanting to anger him.

Ok? No, he was not okay. But what could he possibly tell her? That he didn’t want to die? That he didn’t want her to die? That he just wanted all of this to be over? She knew all of this already. She knew exactly what he was feeling, she knew everything about him, and she knew that he would never be okay. Even if all this did end.

Looking at her eyes full of concern and thinking about everything she meant to him, Harry realized he’d been wrong. He didn’t feel empty—he felt love. He never had stopped loving her—he’d just tried to lock his love away. He didn’t even know why he was thinking about this. It had been over a month since he’d let himself think about Hermione in that way. Now, with the threat of Voldemort growing ever so close, and the vision still fresh in his mind, he found that he needed comfort. Comfort he could only find in her arms. He became conscious of the fact that he hadn’t answered her question.

“Yeah, I’m ok,� he responded.

Unconsciously, Hermione moved closer to Harry and let a sigh escape her lips. What a funny situation they were in. There was the world’s greatest villain to worry about and yet she just couldn’t bring herself to do it. It was much, much easier just to think about the boy sitting next to her.

She felt she needed to comfort Harry. She needed to tell him that it was all going to be okay, that he didn’t have to worry about anything, that she was going to help him every step of the way. But she couldn’t find the right words. Only silence between them. She loved silence. Silence didn’t hurt anyone, you could say so much without speaking a single word. She moved still closer to Harry until their bodies were touching.

Harry honestly didn’t know what to do or what to think anymore. His scar still burned and the thought of Voldemort still haunted his mind, and yet Hermione was so close to him; he found all his worries ebbing away. It was quite distracting.

“Hermione?� he asked, looking down at her.

Hermione raised her head, brown eyes meeting green, and her heart skipped a beat. She could look into his eyes forever and never feel alone … or lost.

“I’m sorry, Harry. I don’t know why I haven’t realized it before. I’ve been foolish. And I’ve … Please, tell me it’s not too late…� she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

She didn’t say what she wanted to into words, but Harry understood. She reached up and slowly pushed his bangs out of his eyes. She didn’t know what pushed her to do it, but she was leaning closer and closer to Harry, until she felt his breath on her lips, and instantly wondered why it had taken her so long to figure out Harry was the one she wanted.

But all the thoughts of the past were meaningless.

All that mattered were Harry’s hands around her waist, his lips on hers as he kissed her softly.

All that mattered was that Hermione was finally there with him, kissing him back gently, and he wondered if it was all a dream.

First off, I'd like to apoligize to everyone for such a long delay with this chapter. I hope I haven't lost most of my readers because of it and I hope that you all understand.

That being said--YEY, I'm back! I sincerely hope that you'll all enjoy this chapter as it took me so long to write it.

Thanks to my Beta for this chapter, Emmarocks--his work is much appreciated.

Let me know what you think!

---

PART 2

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Chapter 11: Security


Hermione stepped lightly out of the castle, her feet squelching in the muddy ground beneath her. It had recently rained, and judging by the murky sky above her, and the sun's absence although it was early morning, it was going to rain again. Everything was still and quiet as she walked—no birds singing, no students anywhere within sight, even the surface of the lake was still, with no Giant Squid visible anywhere. The only sound was that of the whispering trees as the wind moved swiftly through them.

Hermione inhaled deeply. She had always loved the smell of the earth after it rained. It was soothing to her nerves and calming to her spirit. She almost had an urge to reach down and grab a handful of it, but, smiling, she resisted the temptation. She almost felt like a little kid again. No problems, no worries, just a constant happiness and a sense of security, as if she would never see another bad day in her life; and it was all due to Harry. She thought it was funny how they had only been together for such a little while and already she felt that with him she could face anything. But then again, they hadn't only been together for a week—they had always been together, whether she had realized it or not.

She smiled again. She had done a lot of smiling lately. Just the memory of his emerald eyes burning in his face as he looked at her, his mouth curved in a slight smile before his lips met hers; his hair, messy as always, made her never want to stop smiling.

Looking up at the castle, her smile faded slightly. She had been happy the last couple of weeks, but it was not so for everyone. The death and devastation that Voldemort was responsible for had swept through everything and everyone, leaving only despair in its wake. The only thing that people could do was hold tightly onto the ones they loved, because they didn't know when they might be ripped from them in the cruellest ways. Hermione shuddered—the thought of losing the people she loved was too much to handle and she shook her head to clear her mind of unpleasant thoughts, but the thoughts wouldn't go away.

She thought of how Padma and Parvati had had lost both their parents, who had just recently joined the Order, of Luna's dad who had been gravely injured because of the article he had written in The Quibbler and had barely survived, of Seamus' mom who had been killed by Dolohov, of Orla Quirke and her sister in first year who had been killed along with her whole family. And she could do nothing about it. She could do nothing except watch, hoping that she wouldn't be next. She could do nothing except help Harry through his fight and hope that they would emerge victorious.

She sighed and wrapped her hands around herself as the wind picked up speed.

* * *

Harry sat up in his bed as a particularly loud snore from Ron woke him up. Rubbing his eyes, he promised himself that the minute he had the time, he would go to the Library and find an anti-snoring spell.

Now that he was awake, he thought he might as well get up and do something, so he hauled himself out of bed and started dressing. Looking outside of his window, he saw that the sky was dark and groaned inwardly. He had been planning to fly around today, but with this weather. He thought it was funny that he could still be as anxious about Quidditch as he had first been in his first year. Chuckling slightly, he shook his head and his eyes searched the ground for Hagrid.

It had been some time since Harry had seen him, because Hagrid had been on a trip somewhere.

Probably searching for a lady friend for Grawp, Harry thought, laughing again.

The last couple of weeks he had laughed a lot, and although there was still a sort of constricted feeling in his stomach, a lot of the emptiness had been filled up. There was no sight of Hagrid on the grounds, but as his eyes wandered around, he caught sight of the cause of his happiness walking slowly around the lake, her arms wrapped around herself. For a moment Harry wanted to scold her—it was cold outside and there she was with only a thin cloak around her. Grabbing his own cloak, he hurried out of the Boys' Dormitory thinking of joining her.

Unfortunately, an unpleasant sight met his eyes when he reached the Common Room. His books lay strewn over a table and chair. He painfully remembered having left his Transfiguration essay unfinished. They had Transfiguration first thing that morning and McGonagall was not going to be pleased if he handed her this. Sighing, he regretfully put down his cloak, sat down and pulled his books about him, doing his best to tear his thoughts away from the wandering Hermione. After all, she was the one who had taught him never to neglect his schoolwork.

* * *

Hermione looked up at the window she knew belonged to the sixth year Boys' Dormitory, wondering if Harry was awake yet. Part of her wished that he would come down and see her, and another part of her wanted him to finish his Transfiguration essay. She remembered how she and Harry had had a fight about this last night. A fight that had ended with Harry promising he would finish tomorrow, with Ron shaking his bemused head at the two, with Hermione crossing her arms and looking at Harry defiantly, and with one final kiss on the lips. She smiled.

Making up her mind, she decided to go and help him. He did have a lot on his plate, and it wasn't his fault if he couldn't concentrate properly.

Of course, being the idiot that he is, he's probably still asleep, she thought with a certain amount of fondness.

But just as she made to turn around, her eyes caught movement at the gates of Hogwarts. There was Hagrid, and he was not alone. With him was a middle-aged man with spectacles and a short beard, dressed in Muggle clothing. He was sombre and silent as he walked, barely answering Hagrid's questions with a 'yes' or 'no'. The only emotion he was showing was slight surprise at his whereabouts, and he was concealing even that well.

Hermione's heart plummeted and her breathing quickened as she realized who he was. Running up to him, her face white, her hands cold and her cloak billowing out, she could hardly manage to speak.

"D-dad? What are you doing here? Is everything all right?" she asked, her voice high-pitched and scared.

Hagrid looked awkwardly from the panic-stricken Hermione to her dad, who was simply staring down at her, looking like Hermione had never seen him look.

"He's here ter see Dumbledore," Hagrid said, keeping his voice even.

"But … but why? Dad?" Hermione asked, her voice rising higher still. Suddenly, understanding filled every particle of her body with a horrible sense of dread she had never known, and she asked, her voice deadly calm and cold, "Where is she, dad?"

* * *

Pain such as he had never known was pulsing through his body, shredding his insides, sucking his blood, twisting his skin into a million knots. His mouth was dry, and he was screaming endlessly, waking up the whole of Gryffindor Tower. His limbs were being ripped from his body slowly and torturously, his nails from his fingers and toes—no, he had never felt pain like this is his life.

Suddenly it stopped. It stopped as suddenly as it had started, but unlike last time, now he knew exactly what had happened to him and where he was. Shaking, he looked up at people still in their pyjamas and searched frantically for Ron or Hermione's face. Hermione was nowhere to be seen, but there was Ron, looking pale, his freckles standing out in contrast to his white face. Understanding Harry's look, he shooed everyone away, telling them the most unbelievable lie—that it was just a nightmare.

After they had all gone, he slowly helped Harry to his feet.

"It's completely gone," Harry said, bemused, touching his scar. "It's so strange. I feel nothing. It always prickles after this kind of stuff, but now nothing. I feel nothing."

He met Ron's scared eyes and they spoke one word, "Dumbledore."

* * *
Harry was now climbing the moving staircase alone, having left Ron behind to go look for Hermione. As he knocked and was told to enter, a cold feeling took hold of him, but he didn't understand it at all.

Dumbledore's familiar and serene face met his as he stepped forward. He was surprised to see just how old he looked. As Harry spoke, the wizened face stayed calm, and Harry felt relief wash over him because Dumbledore was not looking worried, but merely content at what he was hearing.

"Well, Harry," Dumbledore spoke as Harry finished. "This is just what I have thought. Voldemort is now performing Occlumency against you. Which means that you will no longer need to bother about your scar, at least for the present."

"But why, sir?" Harry asked, puzzled. The last thing he had known was that Voldemort would try to trick him time and time again, through their connection. It didn't seem possible that Voldemort would want to close the thing that could cause Harry so much pain.

"Tonight he tried to control you, just like he did at the Ministry of Magic last June. But because of your connection, he cannot control you without feeling pain himself. And so he has decided to stop, meaning you shall not feel any more pain, either. He has other ways with which he will try to defeat you." Dumbledore's words were ominous, but he didn't look worried, and Harry took heart.

"So, sir, what ways would he tr—"

Before Harry could finish his sentence Dumbledore's office was filled with people—Hagrid, stooping low, his head scratching the ceiling, a bearded, middle-aged man, who stood silently staring at his surroundings and …

"Hermione!" Harry exclaimed, startled, but his expression changed as he looked at Hermione's face—grave and sad but dignified and held high.

"Ah, Mr. Granger. Do, come in," Dumbledore said, inviting the man to sit down, "So sorry to hear about your wife's death. Hard times…"

But the rest of Dumbledore's words were lost on Harry who was looking at the silent Hermione. And as she stood there, not one tear fell from her eyes, not one sigh escaped her lips.

AN #2: Yes, the bit about the Occlumency is from HBP. Just so it doesn't completely out of tune.

Chapter 12: Incoherent

Harry was by her side in an instant, trying to take her into his arms, but she was reluctant. He tried to soothe her, to tell her that everything was going to be all right, but she was unwilling. He wanted to show her that it was okay to cry and let her feelings out, but she refused.

It was hard for Hermione. Once near Harry, his presence so obvious, his smell overpowering the whole of her, she felt like she wanted to scream and rage at the Heavens. “It’s not fair!� her mind cried out. It wasn’t fair that her mother was dead and had left her alone; it wasn’t fair that her father had become helpless when she needed him most—it just wasn’t fair. Leaning her head on Harry’s shoulder, his hands in her hair, his voice speaking comforting words that she could not understand, she felt tears form in her eyes. Pushing him away, she wiped them away angrily and told him she needed to rest.

Harry had never felt worse.

* * *

Harry was walking the grounds, his invisibility cloak thrown over his shoulders in such a careless way that he wouldn’t be surprised if it had been thrown off by the strong wind being blown in his direction. Hands deep in the pockets of his cloak, one tightened around his wand, he made his way slowly to Hagrid’s cabin. He wanted to feel the safety and security that Hagrid’s hut had somehow always provided. While he knew that Hagrid was on his trip, he hoped that Alohomora would work and then he could think quietly with Fang’s head on his lap.

He didn’t know yet how Hermione would react but he had enough experience on the matter to know that it would not be easy. He only wished that in the future she wouldn’t act like she had tonight. He really didn’t like being pushed away, especially by her. However, he did understand, which was why he wanted to be able to help her. He had once promised that he would be by her side no matter what and he wanted to live up to that. He wanted her to feel like she could trust him like he trusted her, not only with her secrets, but also with her feelings. He didn’t want her to hide like he had once done—he was scared that this experience might scar her for life, like so many of his own experiences had wounded him.

Climbing the few steps to Hagrid’s hut he pulled his wand out and whispered, “Alohomora.� The door opened and Harry was actually surprised—he hadn’t expected the spell to work. As he stepped over the threshold he looked around for Fang but wasn’t able to spot him. He called out his name, but received no bark from the boarhound. He thought it was odd, but maybe Fang was taking a stroll on the grounds. Settling himself on a chair, Harry looked around, missing Hagrid’s massive form and the way he used to talk to them about everything. He especially missed his rock cakes.

Harry lit his wand so he could feel more at home, but it was not to be. The hut offered none of the warmth he had hoped—it was just cold and empty without Hagrid. Harry wanted to write to him, but was afraid that any letter might draw undesired attention. As he was getting up to leave, an envelope lying on Hagrid’s table caught his eye. It was covered in cobwebs as though it had been left there for quite some time. Curiosity getting the best of him, Harry moved closer and picked it up. It had been opened once and the letter had been stuffed back into the envelope, as if the reader had been in a hurry. He opened it up to see Dumbledore’s familiar handwriting:

Hagrid,

I need your help. Please meet me in the Hog’s Head in half an hour. I am afraid the event we have long talked about has been verified. You know the importance of it.

Albus

Harry hastily stuffed the letter into the envelope and with long steps left the cabin to tell Ron that something had been going on.

* * *

Hermione was lying in bed as memory after memory washed over her. The first thing she could remember was her mother singing to her in a sweet voice, though far off-tune. She had thought that was by far the most wonderful voice, and had often wondered why her mother hadn’t become a singer. The rest of the memories were those that any child was likely to have; watching while her mother cooked as her feet dangled beneath her, her mother crying at her first day of school, learning her alphabet while her mother watched over her. Always lingering was the perfume of sweet mimosa and vanilla that had hung around her mother everywhere she went.

Then the letter had come, the Hogwarts letter that changed everything. She was away from home now, and often for the longest of times. Even when she had had the chance to spend time at home she had preferred to stay away, near Harry and Ron, near the world where she knew she belonged. She preferred to stay in the world she had created for herself, and now that was her greatest regret.

Hermione remembered the last time she had seen her mother. Helen Granger had been truly frightened when her daughter told her that they were all in danger, Hermione most of all. Hermione had left that day, not even staying a week, before joining Harry, Ron and the Order. She had told herself that her mother would understand.

Now, lying awake, dread threatening to overwhelm her, she thought that maybe her mother hadn’t understood. Had Helen felt like she was losing her only daughter? Had she felt this sense of pain that Hermione was feeling right now? Had she been resentful towards the magical world that had taken away her baby and turned her into an able and grown woman?

Hermione would never know and yet she made herself a promise. She would never shed a tear. It was a sign of weakness she didn’t want right now—it was something she didn’t need. She hadn’t cared enough about her mother when she had been alive and she wouldn’t let herself be destroyed by the guilt now. She had to be strong because life went on, with or without her. Even as she promised herself all of this, even as she tried to stop the tears threatening to come, even as she told herself that it was for the best, something cold settled in her heart. She didn’t know if it would ever truly leave.