Authors Notes: Thanks for all the reviews AGAIN! They really are appreciated. Though it appears that some people are confused as to what year they are in. They're actually in their 6th year, as one of the reasons that Harry wanted to be alone in the summer was because he wanted to grieve Sirius' death in peace. You'll find it all out if this chapter and hopefully be a little less confused! And about Hermione leaving the Hospital wing early chapter before last, I figured that Hermione would respect his wishes, plus she would be feeling pretty tired after always going to see Harry, so she deserved a break.
Just so you know, the Italics below is Harry's dream, so you don't get confused.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He walked down a long church aisle, decorated with pretty bowls of pink, blue and white flowers on pillars. Making his solitary way down to the front, where two familiar people were standing at the altar, holding hands, he felt a twinge of sadness and anger in his heart. He started to run towards them, his actions slowed down by half. He began to get frustrated, and started to shout to them, incoherently without proper words, just funny muffled sounds coming from his mouth.
After a moment, one of the people at the altar turned around. She was wearing a large flowing white dress, and looked incredible. Harry had never seen anyone so beautiful in his entire life. He looked up at her face, and got the shock of his life when Hermione's face was there, tears running freely down her cheeks, her eyes red and bloodshot. Harry had never seen her looking so beautiful, he wondered why she was crying. He turned to the other person, the groom, and was shocked to see that it was Ron. He had a huge happy smile on his face, and patted Harry on the shoulder.
"I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you, mate… thanks for giving me that advice… I owe you one!"
He turned away and Harry turned his attention back to Hermione, the tears were still running down her pretty porcelain cheeks, and Harry tried to bring a hand up to wipe them away, but for some reason, he couldn't reach her. She just stood there in front of him, crying.
"Why didn't you tell me, Harry? Why didn't you open up to me? I wouldn't be here now if it wasn't for you…"
Harry's stomach plummeted, and he began to back away, hearing Hermione's words echo in his head. He reached up and grabbed his head with his hands, trying to rid it of her voice.
"I hate you, Harry… I hate you…"
*
He jumped awake, his eyes wide and his face covered in sweat. Reaching around on the bedside table he found his glasses and put them on, the room coming back into focus.
It was all a dream… Ron and Hermione didn't get married… she didn't say those things…
He knew what the dream was about though. He had to tell her… now.
He got out of bed, still only clad in his boxers, and reached around in the dark until he found his dressing gown. It felt slightly strange to be up and walking again, after spending so much time in bed, but he put this thought to one side. He didn't have much time. He needed to get to Gryffindor Tower without being seen by anybody.
He slipped his slippers on, and quietly crept out of the Hospital Wing, closing the door with a soft snap as he left. Turning around, he was faced with the cold stone corridors. He wrapped his dressing gown tighter around him and silently walked on, careful to keep an eyes out for Filch or his cat. At the back of his mind was a rational thought, why was he doing this? Couldn't it wait until morning? No, he decided. It couldn't wait.
He tiptoed through the dark draughty corridors of the castle, his feet making a soft pat on the hard cold floor. Remembering his way around, he slipped through several tapestries and went along a few short-cuts, hoping to be hidden from anyone who may be lurking about. Finally he made his way to the Fat Lady's portrait and silently prodded her awake, gently. With a splutter and a yawn she was awake… barely. She didn't even get angry when Harry gave her the password, she seemed to be too tired to notice that it was the dead of the night. Harry gave the password (Tiddly om-pom pom) and crept into the portrait hole.
The common room was quite creepy as night, large beams of silver moonlight came from the window and basked everything in a delicate silver mist. Except for the large dark shadows, they stayed still and silent, like big hooded Dementors. Harry shuddered and quickly crept his way through to the girls dormitory stairs, placing a foot on the bottom step. Suddenly he paused. Memories of when Ron had tried to make his way up to the girls dormitories in 5th year came back to him with a smile, and he withdrew his foot. He had to think of a way to get up those stairs, without coming crashing back down again and waking the whole house.
Crossing the room, the ran silently up the boys dormitory steps and into the dorm. The boys were sleeping soundly in their comfortable looking four posters and Harry felt a little envious. Clearing his head of unneeded thoughts he crept over to his bedside table, opened a drawer and took out his wand.
Creeping back down into the common room was an easy task, Neville's and Ron's snores were enough to muffle the sound of his slippers on the scarlet carpet. Crossing to the girls dorms once again, he held his wand up, silently praying it would work. He put the wand to his feet and made the familiar 'swish and flick' motion that came with the incantation; "Wingardium Leviosa."
Immediately, his feet began to hover about 6 inches off the ground, and he silently punched the air in relief. Turning back to the girls dorms, he successfully made his way up the steps without actually touching them, and silently opened the door.
The girls dorms were a lot less cluttered and more pretty looking than the boys. The walls were painted scarlet, just like the boys dorms, but you could actually see them, whereas the boy's walls were plastered with posters and pictures. The only posters were on Lavender and Parvati's walls, and they were of some guy called 'Matt Steele' in denim jeans. Harry made his way over to the centre of the room, trying to decipher which bed was Hermiones. Finally, he chose upon the one in the corner, as there were no posters and a lot of books surrounding it. Opening the curtains ever so slightly, he found he was correct.
She looked so beautiful. She was lying on her back with her head to one side, her hair sprawled out behind her on the pillow and the light from where Harry had opened the curtains was bathing her in a silver moonlight. She stirred, and the light reflected off her face perfectly. From what Harry could see she was wearing a strapped, pink nightgown. He softly crept onto the edge of her bed, and watched her for a while, letting her sleep before he woke her up.
He couldn't help but feel like he wanted to kiss her. Here she was, lying there, asleep, looking like a Greek goddess, the moonlight basking her beautiful features perfectly, and he couldn't do a thing about it. She was Ron's girlfriend now, it was too late for him. He had realised what Ron had known was there all along, but it was too late. However, he didn't think even Ron felt as strongly for her as he did. Those late-night walks by the lake, those midnight trips to the Kitchens, he got to know her like no one else, and she him. He couldn't help thinking that those trips weren't strictly platonic. At least not to him anyway.
He decided to wake her before she woke up herself and screamed and woke everyone up. Thinking this, he stopped and cast a silencing charm around the curtains before waking her up, so no one would overhear their conversation, if they did wake up. Slowly, he reached a hand out and brushed a lock of bushy hair from her face. She shifted, and he called out softly to her.
"Hermione? 'Mione, wake up…."
'Mione? Since when did he call her that?
She shifted and opened her eyes, rubbing a little sleep out of them before looking up at Harry's face, her beautiful brown chocolate pools for eyes wide. Sitting up, she rubbed her eyes again, then looked up at Harry again. She reached out a dainty hand and touched him, just under the neck. The touch sent shivers through his soul but he ignored it, as he smiled, a pure smile. She smiled back, sleepily.
"Harry, what are you doing here? It's the middle of the night! And you're meant to be in bed!"
She tried to keep her voice to a whisper, not wanting to wake the others, but she seemed excited that Harry was there. Harry was surprised. He thought she'd be angry at being woken up this late.
"It's okay, I've put a silencing charm around the curtains. I.. Uh… I wanted to tell you something."
She sat up, immediately awake, the sleepiness vanishing in an instant. Harry looked up at her, a nervous look on his face. She had been waiting for him to open up to her, the dream was right.
"I… I wanted to tell you… about.. why I'm so thin… " He started, looking down at his dressing gown and fiddling with the tie. "It's… it's because of… the Dursleys…."
He told her. He told her everything, every single brutal detail, about how they would starve him and keep his wages for 'rent', how Dudley would invite his gang to beat up Harry whenever Harry cheeked him. He told her about how Uncle Vernon stole Hedwig from him and used parchment and a quill himself to write to the Order of the Phoenix, copying Harry's writing as best he could and telling them that Harry was OK. He didn't visit them at first because he wanted to be left alone, to grieve over Sirius in peace, but after a while, it was just shame keeping him there to be beaten up and starved.
He looked up at Hermione after telling his story and was upset to find tears running down her face. She looked totally shocked, even more so then after he'd told her about the prophecy. Her pretty rosy red lips were parted as her mouth was open, and she brought a hand up to her mouth in shock.
"I'm sorry to wake you like this, Hermione…" he sighed, glad that it was dark so she couldn't see his burning face. "But I needed to tell you… I know you wanted me to open up to you… so I am."
He coughed slightly, and began to turn away, his hand reaching for the curtains to leave. As his hand touched the velvet curtain, he felt a soft hand on his shoulder, pulling him back. He turned, and saw Hermione kneeling, her soft dainty hand on his shoulder and tears running down her face. This was exactly what he didn't want, to make her worry, but he needed to tell her.
Silently, she wrapped her slender arms around his head, kneeling up so Harry's face was buried in her stomach. She stroked his hair while he brought his arms around her, inconveniently wrapped around her behind, but he had no where else to put them. He could feel a lump in his throat, from all the aggravation he had caused, all the emotional stress he'd been through, and now this. He was hugging his best friend's girl, in the middle of the night, in her bed. His eyes began to sting and he felt a little dizzy. He ignored this however when she began to talk to him soothingly.
"It's alright, Harry… we can sort it out now…I'll sort it out… I promise."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She held him there, silently for a while, stroking and playing with his hair while he cried softly into her stomach. She felt horrible, she had no idea that it was that bad for Harry at home. He had completely opened up to her, about why he didn't tell her, and how it made him feel, knowing that he let someone push him around like that and make him feel that way. Her heart ached in sadness as they held each other, afraid to let go.
After a while however, he broke away, his eyes red and bloodshot. He turned away from her and from what she could see in the dim moonlight his face was burning. She took his hands to stop her running away, her heart jumping at the contact, but she had to do this. For Harry. He looked a little scared of the contact actually, his eyes showing a tiny spark of fear, and something else. Hermione stroked his hands with her thumb and smiled up at him tearfully.
"You alright now, Harry? Don't worry, everything will be fine. I'm not going to tell anyone of what you told me tonight, okay?"
He looked up at her, relief evident in his eyes and smiled. He continued to look at her hands locked with his own, and Hermione watched him, wondering whether she should ask him. She had already seen the reaction he gave when he saw her and Ron holding hands, and she could tell that this killed him now. She knew he would never do anything on purpose to hurt his best friend, but something was really bugging him about being here and she knew very well what it was.
She forgot about Ron for a minute, her head filled with buzzing questions; should I? Shouldn't I? What if he doesn't like me? What if he does?
She looked at his face, which hid a pained expression, the eyes practically shouting it out from behind his steel rimmed glasses. He looked broken, torn in between staying here with her all night, enjoying her company, or running, being a good best friend to Ron and running back to the Hospital Wing.
Slowly her heart took over and she reached up and lifted his glasses from his face. He looked back at her, the eyes now fully revealed, not hidden behind glasses anymore and they looked confused. She set the glasses down by her pillow and turned back to him, cupping his cheek in her hand and stroking his lips with her thumb. He closed his eyes, tears threatening to fall again. He knew this was wrong, the look on his face told her so, yet to her it seemed right. So right. Like they were perfect for each other.
He brought a hand up to place on her own and opened his eyes. They were glossed over with tears that had not fallen and her heart broke. She had to tell him now, even if she was with Ron, if she didn't tell him now, there would always be 'what-ifs'. She closed her eyes and sighed deeply, her face casting a sad look. She opened her eyes again and locked them with Harry's, he looked back.
"Harry, I have to tell you… now… I- "
He looked startled, he knew what she was going to say, and he didn't want to hear it, for Ron's sake. Something made him stay right where he was though and she continued.
"I… love you…"
She dropped her hands into her lap and turned her face down away from him. There. She had said it. She may as well have cheated on Ron.
Harry was silent, she couldn't see his face for hers was turned downwards, but she felt warm hands around her own, and a strong finger underneath her chin. She let her face by lifted by Harry, who's face looked positively terrified. He took her small hands in his own, his skin feeling like velvet to hers and held them up his chest, still locking her eyes with his own.
"I love you too…"
Hermione's heart flew to her throat and she smiled, letting out the breath she didn't know she was holding. Harry smiled too, nervously of course but it was still pure, still genuine. She leaned closer to him, her lips parting slightly, forgetting for a moment that she had a boyfriend, and met Harry's lips with her own. Immediately there was sparks between them, Hermione had never felt anything like it. Some kind of gravity pulled them together, and they both kneeled, lips still met. Harry brought his arms around her shoulders and hugged her closer as she ran her tongue along his lips. They opened and she gained entry to his mouth, kissing him deeply and passionately. He returned the favour and she brought her hands around him, exploring his back through his dressing gown. She was pleasantly surprised to find he only had boxers on underneath, and continued to let her hands roam his back. He was doing the same for her, his hands fiddling with the straps on her nightgown. She leaned backwards onto her pillow, taking Harry with her.
They broke apart for air and immediately kissed again, eager to have the feeling of completeness once again. They fit together perfectly, Harry's mouth against hers felt so right and blissful, she would never feel this with Ron…
Ron…
They both seemed to have the same idea at the same time, for they sprang apart and looked at each other, Harry's face hovering over her own. Together they said in unison;
"What have we done?"