Harry Potter H&Hr Fluff Collection

Fanfiction within a fanfiction.

XXX

Sans Rule 34

“Harder!” Hermione yelled at Harry.

Harry thrust forward swiftly. Harry felt a tingling sensation in his arms as he felt a bit tired holding them up. A bead of sweat dripped down his face as he felt his face feeling hot.

“Come on, Harry” said Hermione, panting as her voice carried across the darkening dusk. “Just a little further - HARRY!“

Harry suddenly made another thrusting movement making Hermione squeak in surprise.

“That's it!” she breathed. “Yes! Faster!”

Harry moved forward and backward and after a few minutes of reiterating his movements, he felt the energy being absorbed from his body as he glanced at Hermione -

“Oh God…” Hermione muttered.

Harry smirked and after one final thrust with force -

“Harry!” Hermione cried, opening her mouth slightly.

Crack!

The thick piece of log split into two as the two held their side of the saw, feeling breathless. Harry craned his neck to see the two pieces of split logs. Hermione wiped her face with a lacy handkerchief as Harry walks over to their newly chopped logs and tosses the two pell-mell to a rack of logs.

“You should've said that it was about to cut through,” said Hermione pointedly. “It gave me quite a shock, really.”

“If I did, you would've slowed down,” Harry replied, smacking his dragon hide gloved-hands together repeatedly. “Got the job done quickly, see?”

Harry smirked at her teasingly which she replied with a scoff of mock irate but returned Harry's smirk with a grin.

“Is that the last of them?” asked Hermione, looking around the backyard.

“I think so,” said Harry. “Where is Ron, anyway?”

Harry and Hermione realized they've been doing this task without Ron for an hour ever since he excused himself for “bowel movement” earlier. Hermione reckoned to Harry that Ron probably tired himself out after those packs of logs fell on him earlier in the afternoon. Harry reminded himself on Ron's abhors towards working without magic.

It was summertime in the Burrow and it's been four days since Harry and Hermione arrived. Unsurprisingly (Ron mentioned this to them prior to their arrival in his letters.), the lack of Weasleys around the house led to Mrs. Weasley asking Harry and Hermione if they can help around with the chores in the Burrow. Mr. Weasley has been toiling in the Ministry due to numerous complications regarding numerous healing potions that would chomp off one's nose. Bill and Charlie were in their respective jobs abroad while Fred and George attended to run their joke shop only appearing in night occasionally. Because of this, Ron, Ginny and Mrs. Weasley are usually the ones who are in the house for the whole summer. Harry and Hermione gladly accepted the offer to help around the house which proved to be quite fun for the next few days.

Today's chore was to chop wood for the log rack in the backyard. Mrs. Weasley would've allowed them to use magic to get the job done but since Harry won't turn seventeen until the thirty-first of July to be of age to do magic, Mrs. Weasley reckoned to Ron and Hermione that they would help chores without magic to give Harry some sense of equality. “Morality learning” Mrs. Weasley would call it.

“Here,” said Hermione, tossing a water bottle to Harry which he took a swig without hesitation. Hermione sat on the grass and leaned against the tree stump that they've been using as the base for their woodcutting. “I'm tired,” she said quietly, taking a gulp of her water. Harry smiled and sat beside her.

“I'm tired too,” said Harry wryly. “You want to go in and tell Mrs. Weasley we're done now?”

Hermione shook her head and said while looking up at the orange-tinged sky, “No… I just want to relax a bit before moving…” she winced as she rolled her shoulders. “My arms hurt from all the sawing.”

“Never knew you were that strong,” said Harry, drinking his water.

“There are many things you don't know about me,” said Hermione, smiling at him. “Well, not really - maybe a couple of things you don't know about me but there you go -“

Harry laughed and the two relaxed as the sun started setting away from St. Ottery Catchpole.

“You think Ron will be back?” said Hermione, looking at the half-sun disappearing beyond the hills.

“Doubt it,” said Harry, mimicking Hermione. “But he's missing the view.”

“Oooh, yes,” Hermione shifted on her seat. “It's been awhile since I've seen the sunset!”

Harry stared at Hermione's eager disposition. It just occurred to him how amusing it was seeing her act dreamily towards the sunset. Come to think of it, the sunset was indeed beautiful.

“Have you ever had those weird thoughts when you were a kid, Harry?” Hermione asked conversationally.

“What do you mean?”

“You know,” she said, drawing circles on the grassy lawn. “Like how you had always thought people were inside television sets, or how babies are made through kissing -“

“Why are you asking that?” Harry asked, looking at Hermione peculiarly. It was strange for her to ask these but it was probably for her own curiosity.

“Nothing,” said Hermione, turning slightly pink. “I just wanted to know more about your childhood… that's all.”

Harry stared at her. She smiled weakly back at him giving him the notion that she just wanted to pass the time talking about things and naïve childhood beliefs was the perfect ice breaker.

“Fair enough,” said Harry. “Well… I always thought that the world was flat and that if we were to sail to the end, we will fall.”

“Really?” said Hermione, laughing quietly.

“Yes,” said Harry. “Also, I was afraid of touching a globe of the world.”

“Why is that?”

“Don't laugh, alright?” said Harry, smiling to himself gingerly. “Er - I was afraid of touching the globe since I thought that if I touched it,” he paused and chuckled, “my finger would probably kill the inhabitants on the corresponding country that I touched…”

He bit his lip to keep a nervous laugh from escaping.

“Okay…” said Hermione at once. “You're officially the best boy I ever met.”

Hermione then broke into fits of giggles. The embarrassment of Harry ebbed away as he surveyed Hermione's laughing state. It felt a bit amusing and affronting for her laugh at his thoughts but then again, the thought of killing people through a globe was pretty stupid.

“Glad thing you found it funny,” said Harry derisively.

“Oh Harry, don't be such a spoiled sport,” said Hermione jokily. “I just found it delightful about knowing that you can be mad too.“

“Yeah?” said Harry, “Says the one who thinks babies comes from kissing!”

“I was five, Harry,” said Hermione, in a matter-of-factly tone. “I could've thought about anything farfetched.”

“I understand that but you do know where babies come from, eh?” he said jokily, grinning.

Hermione threw him a serious look.

“Of course, I know,” she said, then she straightened herself up as if she was in a class lecture and continued, “According Life and Science IV: The Human Image - that was my fourth grade textbook in Muggle school, by the way - human beings procreate through means of reproduction -“

“Alright! Alright!” Harry interrupted her, getting red in the face for almost engaging into this kind of conversation with Hermione. “I - I get it! I get it! ”

“Harry, you can't possibly think sex is all naughty talk, can you?” said Hermione sternly.

An uneasy bulge grew in his throat. He really felt uncomfortable at this question. He knew that Hermione was a smart girl and her views on these kinds of things are more objective than subjective.

“N - No,” said Harry, feeling ashamed. “I - I'm sorry. It's just it's -“

“Awkward talking about it with me?” she asked kindly.

“Yeah,” said Harry quietly, turning slightly red. “I'm just not comfortable talking about it… let's just change the subject, okay?”

“Sure, Harry,” said Hermione, rolling her eyes and smiled at him. “We can talk about other stuff instead of… procreation.”

“Haha, very funny,” Harry chuckled and pushed Hermione jokingly on the shoulder making her almost lose balance on her seat.

“Hey!” Hermione protested as she repositioned herself on her place. “You're the one going on about it!”

“Going on about what?” said a voice behind them.

Harry and Hermione quickly wheeled their heads around to see the tall figures of Fred and George behind the stump they were resting against. The two were tall, red-headed adults in their late teens who owned their own joke shop. They were identical in every way down to the last freckle. Fred had his foot propped up on top of the stump while he grinned at the two.

“And how are the chores doing, children?” Fred asked with an air of mockery. “George and I fancied a little visit for the family. You know,” he rested an elbow on his knees, “checking if things are still intact and that you three aren't doing any more mischief - by the way -“ Fred looked around, “Where's our baby brother?”

“In the house,” said Hermione, pointing to the Burrow.

Fred and George were about to take a move on when George said, “Oy, Hermione!”

Hermione looked at George. Harry followed her gaze and saw a fraction of George tossing a magazine to Hermione. Harry noticed it was a very old magazine of Witch Weekly. Something about the cover where a curly-haired witch, who was smiling toothily while pointing to a sponge cake with her wand, made Harry recognize it…

“Oh, my God,” Hermione gasped, “Where did you get this?”

“We went to their headquarters the other day for an advertising deal and we ran across back issues and we spotted that specific issue because -“ George winked at Harry, “- there's something that might interest ya!”

“Oh well,” said Fred conclusively, patting the shoulders of Harry and Hermione, “We'll be off to greet our dear mum, see ya!”

The two entered the Burrow where they met the greetings of their mother. Harry surveyed the Burrow's kitchen windows where a busy Mrs. Weasley was fiddling around the kitchen, preparing for supper. Harry looked back to Hermione and saw her opening the magazine. It looked as if Hermione knew this article since she turned to a page instantly without searching for it - but like Hermione, Harry let out a quiet gasp. Hermione had her eyes fixed on a familiar article he had read years ago during his fourth year.

“Isn't that -“

“The article that Skeeter woman wrote regarding Hermione being a scarlet woman to you and Viktor? Yes, Harry, you're quite right!” said Fred enthusiastically. “Funny, though,” he bent forward so he his head was level to Hermione's. “The moment we Apparated here we thought we heard the word `procreation' -“

“Oh, shut up,” said Hermione irritably, as she flicked the magazine's page. “It was just a mature discussion.”

“Maybe less of mature if Viktor was around, won't it?” said George impishly, appearing on Harry's side.

“Grow up, you two,” spat Hermione, glaring at them. “You do know that the article is complete rubbish, don't you?”

“Of course we do,” said Fred, winking at George, “There's just one problem.”

“What is that?” asked Hermione boldly.

“We're Fred and George,” said the two in unison and they started laughing as they entered the Burrow without a word.

“Will they ever learn to be mature?” Hermione groaned under her breath.

“They're just yanking your chain,” said Harry frivolously. “I'm quite impressed that you didn't blow up at them.”

“Getting into a row with twins who run a joke shop? I'd save my breath for someone else,” said Hermione, grinning. “Besides, I know their intentions… it's just...” she drifted into silence as she stared at the article of “Harry Potter's Secret Heartache”.

“What?” Harry asked warily.

“It's this article,” said Hermione.

“Don't tell me you she got to your head,” said Harry. “That was years ago.”

“I know, I know,” said Hermione, closing the magazine to look at Harry. “It's just that… have you ever wondered about it?”

Harry looked at Hermione. What did she want him to wonder? About how he had to suffer a lot of jeers from the Slytherins due to the article and the other terrible things he encountered that year? He recalled Mrs. Weasley being cold towards Hermione until he clarified his status with her.

“Wonder about what?” Harry asked. The sudden red spots on Hermione's cheeks made Harry taken aback. “Are you alright?” he asked her.

“I - I'm fine,” she said hesitantly. “I was just about to ask… erm… never mind - it's just stupid -“

“Come on, ask it,” said Harry. “I bet it's less embarrassing than the `other thing' I said awhile ago.”

“You mean sex?”

“Come off it!” Harry spat, feeling a rushing sensation hit his chest and up his windpipe. Hermione was rolling on her spot as she laughed at him as he took an intake of breath to calm himself down before speaking, “Just tell me what it is… I doubt it will be the end of the world for you.”

After regaining herself, Hermione sighed and looked at Harry.

“What I meant to ask of you was if you ever thought about… erm…” she jerked her head on the magazine which fell to the ground when she laughed. “…that.”

“What do you mean?” said Harry, not catching on what Hermione said.

“That.” Hermione opened the magazine to the page of the article about them.

It took him awhile to figure it out what Hermione was asking for. He looked at her peculiarly and at the article. What did she want from him?

“You're asking me if I ever wondered about the article?” asked Harry. “Well, I find it complete rubbish if you ask me. I mean, the very idea of you being with two boys at the same time? It - it would be very inappropriate! I don't think you are that kind of person, Hermione. Also the idea of you and me being a couple is maddening.”

“Oh, so you think the idea of an `us' isn't pleasant?” Hermione asked.

Harry did a double take on her words.

“Erm… yeah… At least I think so,” said Harry slowly. He wasn't quite sure how to assure her. “You do, don't you?”

“Of course I do!” said Hermione instantly. “Can you imagine us being together? Think of the situations!”

“Yeah,” said Harry inadvertently. “Just think of us walking around Hogwarts with our fingers interlocking,”

“Oooh,” she made a faux shudder, “That'll be quite an image,”

“And imagine you or me passing notes in the middle of class,” Harry continued.

“I'll be mortified,” said Hermione humorously. “Think of the classes and lectures I'll be ignoring while doing that! Let alone, skipping classes with you so we can go have a picnic in the lake.”

“More like the Quidditch pitch,” Harry corrected, “It's much nicer there,”

“Yeah, and clean too,” said Hermione and continued, “But can you think about how long we will talk and bond if we were a couple? Ron will be furious and will feel left out,”

“I don't think so,” said Harry, looking thoughtful, “We can always invite him on our dates.”

“Won't that be awkward?” she asked. “Last time I checked, dates are for two,”

“Double date,” said Harry, casually. “He can have a date with either Luna or Lavender or - erm - Parvati.”

“Haha,” said Hermione, smiling. “Ron needs love in his life too, I guess. Anyway, what place?”

“Three Broomsticks,” said Harry, “Madam Puddifoot's place reminds me of Umbridge,”

“We can't have her in the relationship, can we?” Hermione giggled. “Can you picture being in some of those romantic nonsense?”

“Like how girlfriends and boyfriends give each other a part of something that if the two are together it makes them whole or something? Like they each wear bracelets with their name on it?” said Harry, remembering the fancy situations that Aunt Petunia would watch on TV.

“Yes,” said Hermione. “Think of you and me, before I depart for Ancient Runes or Arithmancy, we give each other a bracelet and say -“

“Think of me when you see this piece of rubbish, my love,” said Harry in mock drama. “Then when I lose it, you'll overreact and get angry at me for losing something meaningful,”

“Then we'll break-up and Rita Skeeter will have lots of juicy details to fill in her overly large head,” said Hermione jokily.

“After that, we'll get together eventually thanks to Ron being such a nice person for talking us to it,”

“Yeah and then we'll snog, snog, snog, snog all day long as a celebration of our reunion,” said Hermione and shuddered. She couldn't believe she called that.

“Oh, and we'll have nicknames,” said Harry in mock eagerness.

“Ooooh,” said Hermione, “Lots of nicknames. I think you'll call me - erm -“

“Hermy,” said Harry, chuckling. “That's kind of `couple-ish', right?”

“Maybe,” Hermione giggled. “And I'll call you… `Snuggles',”

Harry raised an eyebrow, “Snuggles?”

“Your hair reminds me of my old stuffed bear when I was nine,” she smiled. “Snuggles had untidy brown hair… too bad I lost him when he got incinerated.”

There was a short paused before Harry said uncertainly, “I'm… sorry.”

Hermione chuckled.

“It's a stuffed bear, Harry,” Hermione covered her mouth to stifle her giggles. “But thank you for your concern, Snuggles.”

“I rather be called `Harry', Hermy,” said Harry in mock irate. “Other than that, we'll have field day of questions and bemusement in Hogwarts.”

“I know,” said Hermione, “Think of how many of your admirers would want to hex me if they had the chance,”

“What for?” Harry asked uncertainly.

“You know,” said Hermione, shrugging. “I'm a Mudblood,”

“Well, if they do then your boyfriend will be there to smack them one,” he said. “Haha, Rita Skeeter will have a field day on that one… Potter fights lies and ridicule as his girlfriend suffers the woes of racism. It will be a Prophet seller.”

Hermione burst out laughing. Harry looked at her as she held her stomach, laughing heartily. She stopped as tears started coming out of her eyes.

“Oh gosh,” she panted. “That was rich.”

Harry observed her cautiously, hoping that she wouldn't collapse from laughing. He found it strange that Hermione would give his remark a large reaction. She complete recollected herself and sighed leaving them in brief silence.

“So you were thinking about it…” said Hermione quietly.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked, not catching on what Hermione said.

“This -“ she turned to him, “- the idea of us being together… situations and stuff…”

“Not really,” Harry admitted. “I only made it up as I went along,” he picked up a pebble and threw it across the yard and into a bucket.

“Nice throw,” said Hermione.

“Thanks,” Harry smirked. “Anyway - there you go. I really never thought about how we'll spend our time together… but I have wondered about it. How about you?”

“I did,” said Hermione, smiling at him. “After I read the article, I was really annoyed by it and I asked myself about the idea of us being a couple… then there… I though about stuff and I just left it in memory,” she bit her lower lip. “I - I was planning to ask you about it - you know - about your opinion on it but I thought it was best to not say so since you were busy with the Triwizard Tournament.”

“I never knew,” said Harry, looking at her. “What were your ideas?”

Hermione took a swig of her water bottle and made a deep sigh. Harry had the impression she was recalling what she thought about back then. Has it really been that long since the Triwizard Tournament?

“Well,” she rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “I thought about you taking Arithmancy and Ancient Runes so you can be with me or something like that,”

“You know I can always walk with you to class, right?” Harry winced. “I really don't fancy reading runes or do wizarding Math.”

“That's fine,” she said. “Speaking of which, I never came across the idea of how we'll get together… You know, how we became a couple or some sort...”

“We really don't have to go around all places, do we?” said Harry, already feeling weird about this. It was fun talking to Hermione about their faux relationship but there was a time and place to know when to set a limit. They are best friends after all.

“Not really,” said Hermione, laughing. “I was jus throwing things around there… I'm just happy that we're talking about this, that's all…”

“I see,” said Harry, his anxiousness ebbing away. “Well, I'm happy too…”

Hermione smiled sweetly at him. The two then entered into a moment silence as the summer breeze raked their hairs. Harry yawned as he felt the taste of the moist from the summer leaves enter his mouth. He closed his eyes as darkness surrounded his vision with a tinge of faint orange light from the suns light. It was getting darker now… he and Hermione would enter the Burrow to get ready for supper.

“But you know,” said Hermione, resting her chin on her hand as she propped her elbow on her knees and gazed at the setting sun. “To be frank… I… I used to find it - erm - quite nice… the idea of you for a boyfriend.”

Harry spun his head quickly at her. He didn't know why… the words that emanated from her lips were somehow… soothing and - as she said - quite nice. A growing sensation ballooned up inside him. He knew it was somewhat strange to see her this way but he can't help but feel delighted… happy... and satisfied that Hermione liked the idea of him being her boyfriend.

“I'm flattered,” said Harry calmly, smiling at her warmly. “That was nicest thing you ever said to me so far.”

“No problem,” she put her hands together and rested them on her lap as she swayed slightly, blushing and smiling. “I really do - Oh!”

Hermione cut off as Harry leaned forward and gave her a one-armed hug. It was something Harry realized and that was how many times Hermione would hug him whenever there was tension around him… he would accept them in passing but at the moment, this wonderful dusky moment, he thought of hugging her himself. He rested his hand on her shoulder as Hermione leaned on his. Harry pressed his head on hers affectionately and pulled away.

“I won't ask,” said Hermione, beaming. “But you shouldn't have -“

“I should've,” said Harry. “Besides, I'm returning the favor after all of the hugs you've given to me.”

Hermione blushed.

“Oh yeah,” she giggled. “I did it a lot of times, didn't I?”

“Sure, you did, Hermy,” said Harry, smiling.

The two Gryffindors drank their bottles at the same time and took in the same quantity of water before putting them down again. The sun was gone now. Harry noticed the sky turning blue with a shade of orange and yellow. A faint star twinkled at him in the east.

“I think we better get ready for dinner,” said Hermione, standing up.

Harry turned to see Hermione brushing her backside off of dirt. For some reason, Harry wished they would skip dinner and just enjoy the night together. He had fighting urge to grab Hermione by the arm and pull her down on her seat.

“Harry?” Hermione looked at him.

“Oh - oh - er - yeah, sure,” he shook out of his reverie and stood up quickly. “Dinner time, right…”

After brushing the dirt out of his jeans, he briskly followed Hermione into the kitchen door as he noticed a falling star zoom by.

* * *

“Good morning, Snuggles,” Hermione greeted Harry as he entered the kitchen the next day. Harry's tired eyes met the sight of Hermione in her night gown, beating eggs.

“Aroocooging?” Harry muttered groggily.

“Sorry?” Hermione asked, taking a quick glance at him and back to the bowl of yellow beaten eggs.

“Are you cooking?” Harry repeated, registering the frying pan on the stove. “Where's Mrs. Weasley?”

“She's out,” said Ron, who was sitting at the table, eating a plate of sausages. “She wasn't able to cook enough for us - er -” he ticked off his fingers, “Four.”

Harry remembered that Mr. Weasley usually departs for the Ministry before sunrise and that Fred and George left after dinner last night. He was so used to all the Weasleys being in the Burrow that it felt almost downtrodden at the lack of Weasleys, his favorite family in the whole world.

“Have you eaten yet, Hermione?” Harry asked, seeing Hermione pour a quarter of milk into the egg batter.

“Not yet,” said Hermione, pursing her lips. “I'm just cooking more eggs and sausages while Mrs. Weasley is gone.”

Harry looked at her and a suddenly felt a rush of sympathy towards her. He surveyed her every beat of the egg as the fork whipped in and out of sight amongst the thick yellow liquid which was now mixed in the white of the fresh milk.

“Let me cook,” said Harry.

“What?”

“Let me cook,” Harry nodded, “You need to take your breakfast, Hermione.”

“I can manage, thank you,” Hermione smiled at him.

“Come on,” said Harry kindly. “I have more experience than you,”

Hermione chuckled before abruptly saying, “Since when did you cook? Is it because of the Dursleys -“

Harry caught Hermione biting her lower lip before she finished her sentence. There was an awkward silence between the two and Harry knew why. He could tell that Hermione felt she said something offensive since it's because of being ordered around by the Dursleys that Harry knows a lot of cooking. Frankly, Harry didn't really mind but he found it surprising that Hermione felt insecure regarding his life with the Dursleys.

“I - I'm sorry,” said Hermione, turning pink. “That was uncalled for. I - I didn't mean -“

“Hermy,” said Harry, holding her shoulder with a placate hand. “Drop it,” he smiled at her. “I'm okay with it…”

Hermione turned to him and smiled weakly.

“I just thought -“ she bowed her head to face the egg batter, “- I might remind you of your - you know -“

“Come off it,” said Harry, chuckling.

Before Harry could say anything, Ron stood up and looked outside of the kitchen door's window frame.

“Oh, bloody hell,” he groaned. “One of the gnomes is attacking the cabbages!”

“You need help?” Hermione asked.

“Don't worry,” said Ron. “I got it.”

With a slick move of exit, Ron disappeared to the outdoors. Harry then turned to Hermione and spoke to her as if there wasn't any interruption.

“Look, just let me do the cooking, alright?”

Hermione nodded at him and sat at the table as Harry started to cook eggs and sausages.

“Hermione, did you bring your wand?” said Harry, overturning the sausages to cook the other side.

“It's in my bedside table. Why?”

“Nothing,” said Harry, “I was wondering if I could use it to help me cook -“ he dodged at the popping oil. “I kind of read some of Mrs. Weasley's books and I was thinking of using one of them - I mean, we can do magic now, right?”

It was true, they were of age now to do magic outside of school.

“Sorry, Harry,” said Hermione, checking her nightgown pockets to see if her wand was there, “I didn't bring it - would you like me to get yours?”

“If you don't mind,” said Harry, smirking at her.

Hermione smiled at him and climbed up the stairs until she reached Fred and George's bedroom which Harry used for the time being. She opened the door to see the familiar boxes of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes products at the corner of the room. Harry's trunk lay open as Hedwig's cage propped the lid open. Hedwig was asleep soundly at the top of the wardrobe above. Hermione looked around and saw the dresser facing the bed. Harry's wand was as stiff as Hedwig. Hermione picked it up and noticed something through the looking glass's reflection.

On Harry's bedside table, there was a piece of yellowish parchment which looked like it had a long essay in it. Curious got the better of Hermione, she turned on her heel, while pocketing Harry's wand, and walked to sit on Harry's unmade bed. She took the parchment from its place and in spite of herself, she read the first words of the long paragraph that stretched down to the bottom.

* * *

Harry and Hermione left the hospital wing right after they explained to Ron what happened a few hours ago about how they saved Sirius and Buckbeak, Hermione's Time-Turner and how Harry produced a real Patronus. They decided to go back to the Gryffindor tower as they were all well and chocolate-filled. Ron, however, had to remain behind due to his condition of a healing broken leg. The two planned to visit him tomorrow when he'll be all well and done.

The corridors were quiet in the night as they walked. Harry looked out at the windows, expecting to see the figure of Buckbeak and Sirius against the moon. But they were probably flying over the mountains by now and beyond to a place where they will hide from the prying eyes of the Ministry.

As another window passed, Harry looked below at a fraction of a second down at the grounds. He felt a sense of foreboding about Peter Pettigrew wondering about at night… how long until he reunites with his master? And Lupin… wherever he is now, he's probably gnawing on a lone creature in the Forbidden Forest being all wild and dangerous.

He noticed one thing though… he turned to see Hermione. She was the main reason how they managed to free Sirius and Buckbeak from grave fates. He couldn't be any happier about her helpfulness tonight… after all the things they did to her this year. Hermione caught his eye and raised her eyebrows at him. Harry replied with a smile which was returned by Hermione. The two traipsed on the corridor and up the marble staircase. Harry wondered where Snape was. He was probably up in his study swearing curses at a mental image of him, Sirius and Lupin after what happened. Harry fought an urge to laugh for he enjoyed the quiet walk with Hermione. The thought of her returned to him again and he looked at her with the corner of his eye.

He knew that he shall soon thank Hermione for everything that has happened tonight. If it wasn't for her Time-Tuner, Sirius wouldn't be free. Maybe when they arrive in the common room he will finally thank her.

“Flibbertigibbet,” said Hermione idly. Harry gradually crept out of reverie as he followed Hermione into the common room which was now empty. A new idea sprang into his mind. It was probably the best time to tell her.

“Well, I'm off to bed,” said Hermione, stretching. “It's been a strange night,” she smiled at him. “So… goodnight,”

Hermione was on mid-turn when Harry spoke.

“Hermione,”

She turned to him and said, “Yeah?”

“You did great tonight,” he said, smiling at her.

“Oh,” she looked down on him, avoiding his eyes. “Erm - thanks…”

“No,” he said, walking up to her so they were a meter apart. “Thank you… if it wasn't for your Time-Turner, I would never have a godfather now.”

Hermione smiled but still looked away from Harry. Harry noticed she looked flustered.

“Erm… you're welcome, Harry,” she said quietly. “You were great too,” she finally looked at him. “The Patronus impressed me… I thought it was amazing…”

Harry chuckled. He couldn't but notice how stupid he looked scratching his head while he shifted balance on his stance.

“Yeah, kind of surprised me too,” said Harry, frowning. “I… I even thought it was my dad who did it…”

He felt half-ashamed admitting this and looked at Hermione. She was giving him the same look of sympathy she gave while they waited outside of the Whomping Willow.

“You know…” she said, smiling slowly. “…I think he was there,”

“Come off it,” said Harry, his embarrassment being at bay. “I was wrong, alright? I know I was just over -“

“I mean he was in you,” said Hermione pointedly. “Only a Patronus that powerful can be produced through strong emotions… you said you were able to do it because you realized that you can do it, right? Well, I think it was because you realize how much your father loves you… which, in turn, made your Patronus a stag.”

This thing made Harry feel clarified.

“Lupin said your father was named Prongs… I kind of connected a few things when I saw the Patronus stag,” said Hermione sheepishly.

“I thought so too…” said Harry, recalling his face-to-face encounter with the white stag. “Maybe I'll ask Lupin about it after he gets back from being a werewolf…”

He remembered how Hermione revealed to them on Lupin being a werewolf. In retrospect, he was quite impressed how she figured the entire thing out thanks to Snape sending in the essays. He frowned remembering how she found this all out when he and Ron shunned her the whole time this year. He somehow imagined the shock Hermione must've gotten when she finally connected the dots. She probably had a hard time bottling it all up, trying to find someone to talk to so she can feel free of being the only one knowing. A jolt of guilt erupted inside him, seeing Hermione right in front of him, smiling at him after all of the things she did for him. Then again, there were lots of impressive things Hermione has done this year that he seemed to ignore in the time being.

“Good call though,” said Harry, sounding casual. “On Lupin being a werewolf,”

“Haha,” she said tiredly, “It was nothing…”

“No - I thought it was brilliant,” Harry interjected her. “I would've never seen it coming if it weren't for you… in fact -“

He held the couch which was adjacent to them and searched for words in his brain for the best statement to say to her… to make her feel appreciated.

“- I - I believe you deserve more than a `thank you',” he felt a sensational grief in him, “You did things this year with much pressure that you still had the time to look out for me…”

Hermione didn't answer so Harry continued.

“The Firebolt? I… I know now that I was immature for shunning you like that when you were trying to help…” he couldn't believe he felt his heart pumping as his eyes felt hot. “…I - I made you feel that way…” he blinked again, his eyes suddenly watery. “When Hagrid said that he thought I would've valued you more than a broomstick, I couldn't help but - but,” he sniffed. Harry was very surprised he was welling up like this… for Hermione, “but feel I should've been more appreciative… you -“ he pointed at her, feeling quite a bit annoyed he was acting like this. “- you were great… you're a great friend… I felt really bad when you ran away, crying, after my match with Ravenclaw… even how grateful I was that you were even there to watch me play…” he smiled at her, “I'm so sorry about what I did to you this year… I - I just want you to know that.”

Harry had the fighting urge to stop his arm from lifting to wipe his near-watery eyes with his sleeve. He looked at her and saw that Hermione was in the verge of tears. It was as if she wanted to hear this all year long. There was an awkward silence between the two of them…

“Come here,” said Harry croakily, opening his arms. “Come…”

Hermione walked slowly towards Harry as he pulled her carefully by the sleeve of her sweatshirt. He pulled her to him and wrapped her in a loving embrace. Harry felt Hermione's hot tears on his own shirt as he heard her soft sobbing. He stroked her bushy brown hair as a new feeling of sensation erupted in his insides. It was a wonderful feeling… to hug her like this.

“Oh, Harry…” she moaned softly through sobs, as she hugged him tightly. “Thank you… thank you…”

“Its okay, Hermione… its okay,” said Harry, smiling as a tear trickled out of his right eye, rolled down on his cheek and landed on Hermione's hair. He couldn't help it… he never felt any sorrier for her. He hugged her tightly and lightly kissed her on the head.

It was nothing but this that made Hermione look up at Harry. The two of them shared looks of apology, grief of their own faults and realization. Harry looked into her big chocolate brown eyes and realized how pleasant she looked. The two gazed in each other's vision while interlocked in an embrace. Harry smiled down on her and slowly, unknown of their own surroundings, forgetting what they did tonight…

They kissed.

* * *

Hermione lowered the yellow notepad, feeling a numbing sensation. It was one of those rare moments that she read something so touching and wonderful. The fact that Harry wrote this was something more shocking.

“Speaking of which, I never came across the idea of how we'll get together… You know, how we became a couple or some sort...” Hermione's own words echoed in her mind. She took a deep breath and reread the final part again…

“They kissed,” she said weakly, blushing. She smiled broadly and bit her lower lip. The last two words were powerful enough to make her feel this loving sensation. Hermione never knew Harry would write this romantically.

But what made him want to write this?

She recalled their talk yesterday. It was awkward talking about how they would do their relationship if ever Rita Skeeter's articles were true but she thought it was okay to talk about it… she really never felt a thing… until now.

Hermione slid a finger on the parchment with newfound longing. It was a very nice piece of writing, she thought to herself. Hermione then reread the whole thing again to make her giggle at it quietly when she read her favorite parts. She couldn't help it! Why would Harry write this? She didn't want to answer this herself but she just loved the moment of reading this sort of `fiction' of their own lives… a fictional account of how they became a couple in their third year! She found it both amusing and clever for him but what made her love it was how he described their embrace… she couldn't help but sigh longingly at the thought.

“Oh, my Merlin,” she said, feeling butterflies in her stomach. “Wow… Harry…”

And at this moment, Hermione knew what has to be done. She knew that this - this piece of fiction's idea must transition into fact. Ignoring her hunger, Hermione stood up and whistled as she worked about with Hedwig groggily surveying her activity with one yellow eye.

* * *

“Hermione?” Harry called, opening the door of his empty bedroom.

It was already ten minutes in and she hasn't gone back from getting his wand! Harry sighed to see it was still at the dresser where he left it last night. He reckoned Hermione went up to her room to get something and down back and grab his wand. Harry sighed and picked the wand up but only to see a piece of parchment under it. He turned his head sideways to see a short paragraph written on it with Hermione's familiar neat handwriting.

Looking around, Harry picked it up and read it…

“He entered his bedroom, calling out for her,” he said, “He felt that she was taking too long up there that he decided to take a look to see if she was there… the moment he entered his room, he observed his surroundings to see it was the same way it was as he left it last night,” he looked around his room to see it was indeed the same like last night and went back to the note, “He found a note on his dresser and read it…” his brow furrowed. “And as he reads it, he will find out that the one he wrote for in his little story he made last night… is right behind him - “

Before Harry could finish the paragraph, he reacted to what the parchment said and spun on his heel and saw someone standing by the door beaming at him with such infatuation while holding a yellowish parchment where he, Harry, wrote a very meaningful but fictitious account of his third year in Hogwarts.

It was Hermione.

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