The Sense

Note: I think there was a little confusion last chapter. Lots of you thought Harry said "I love you" and Hermione ignored it. It says that was a THOUGHT that Harry bit back. He didn't say that out loud. So no, there were no confessed feelings of love...yet. Anyway, hope you like this chapter. Review honestly, please!

2nd Note: I have a BETA-READER now! Actually, I had one for the last chapter too. But I was stupid and forgot to thank her then. So, sorry Kzerina and THANKS! Kzerina ROCKS!!

~*~

He creeped quietly to Ginny’s room and peeked in. Ginny was fast asleep, curled in a ball under her blanket. On the floor was a neatly rolled up sleeping bag. Evidently, either Hermione had woken up very early, or she had never gone to bed in the first place. If Harry knew Hermione, it was most likely the latter. This finally brought Harry to reality. It wasn’t a dream.

Creaking a little further down the hallway he stood by the bathroom door, the last place he had seen Hermione. Last night he had followed Hermione to this door and heard her soft sobbing. He wanted nothing more to go in there and do something, but the doorknob was locked. Deciding against Alohomora, Harry left her alone in peace. He knew how she liked private time to gather her thoughts. Merlin knows she always had a lot of them.

Peeking in now, he saw that it was empty. The tiny window was open, giving the bathroom an uncharacteristic chill. Right beneath the window was a single white feather.

“Meow.”

Harry’s eyes darted to under the sink, where Crookshanks had been sitting and watching him.

“Hi, Crookshanks. Do you know where Hermione is?” Then he picked up the white feather. “Or Hedwig, for that matter.”

Crookshanks looked him over, as if debating whether or not to answer, then scampered out into the hall. Harry followed.

“Oy, Harry! You’re up early!” Mundungus Fletcher greeted him. He was seated in the kitchen sipping a cup of tea.

“Dung? You mean, the Weasleys haven’t come home yet?” Harry certainly expected to be home by now.

“No, they’ve got a lot of stuff to deal with. They’ll be coming home this afternoon. Spoke to Molly just an hour ago by Floo. If I didn’t know better, I’d think that woman didn’t trust me.”

Duh. “Oh. Do you know where Hermione is?”

Mundungus looked at him blankly. “You mean she isn’t upstairs?”

Crookshanks interrupted this exchange by digging his claws into Harry’s leg.

“Ow!” he glared at the cat, who seemed perfectly fine with attacking him. Now that he got Harry’s attention, he continued to the kitchen door and stood by it expectantly.

“Oh, never mind. I think she’s outside for fresh air or something.” Harry waved at Mundungus. “See you later.”

“I’ll bet you all could use some fresh air. Judging by how you were all yelling last night I’d say you were cooped up in here too long.”

Harry followed Crookshanks’ bottlebrush tail around the corner of the house. There he found Hermione sitting on a rock, watching garden gnomes creep into Mrs. Weasley’s plants. She was still wearing the same clothes as yesterday and had yet to notice Harry’s presence. Despite having had a horrible, most likely sleepless night, Hermione looked as radiant as ever in Harry’s eyes. Her face was slightly tear-streaked, but he suspected the tears had been long remedied.

“Thanks for being there for me all night.” Hermione whispered. For a moment Harry thought she was talking to him, but then realized she wasn’t even looking at him. Her eyes had turned upwards. Following her line of vision he saw Hedwig, perched on a low tree branch. Harry looked down at the white feather in his hand and remembered the open window in the bathroom. He put two and two together and his jaw hit the ground.

Harry looked down at Crookshanks incredulously. Unfortunately he was not able to hear Crookshanks say Yeah, buddy, she can fricken talk to animals.

Nor did he hear Hedwig warn Hermione. Will you look at that, Harry’s peeking right around the corner, and Crookshanks is with him.

Hermione whipped her head around and stared at Harry, who was staring back.

“You can talk to Hedwig,” Harry whispered in awe. “That’s who you were talking to. All those times…”

Obviously it would have been stupid to deny this, so Hermione simply nodded. Her eyes had averted and she was as unwilling to look at him as last night. Harry had nothing else brilliant to say, so he took a seat on the damp ground next to her. Hermione looked mildly surprised, but didn’t say anything. They sat in silence for a couple moments.

“So, what does she say about me?” Harry asked, peeking up at Hedwig.

Hermione was puzzled at his small talk. There must have been a million things he wanted to ask; yet he chose to merely talk about Hedwig.

Hermione showed the hint of a smile. “She just said you were a stupid, reckless sweetheart.”

Harry laughed and sat back against the outer wall of the house. “So what do you guys talk about?”

Hermione shot daggers up at Hedwig. “Nothing, really. Boring stuff.”

“Oh.”

The two teens just sat and quietly watched the garden gnomes scramble over each other.

“So can you only talk to Hedwig?” Harry asked. Dancing around the weirdness of the situation would just make his nervousness obvious. He needed Hermione to know that he cared. That he was interested.

“Oh, no. I think I can talk to any magical creature…” Hermione beckoned Crookshanks over.

Crookshanks obliged. You know, now that you can understand me you should probably know that I don’t like being petted in public.

“Oh, nonsense.” Hermione picked Crookshanks up and started to pet him. He wriggled indignantly but soon gave up. Bloody Hell.

Harry smiled. “So what’s Crookshanks really think about me?”

“Crookshanks loves you,” Hermione lied, giving Crookshanks a good hard squeeze.

“…So what do YOU really think about me?”

Harry’s question took them both by surprise. Harry had no idea why he asked it, and Hermione had no idea how to answer.

“I…you’re the only one talking to me. I can’t not like you.”

“Why wouldn’t I talk to you?”

Crookshanks broke free from Hermione’s arms. Fuck this mushy shit. I’m out. Come on, Owlie.

Hedwig launched off the branch. Crookshanks and I will leave you two alone now…

Harry watched the two animals leave.

“Did they tell you they were leaving?”

Hermione nodded.

“Oh. So, you haven’t answered my other question.”

Hermione looked in Harry’s general direction. “It would be the sensible thing to do.”

“Me ignoring you?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm.” Harry rubbed his chin. “Let’s see…moments when ignoring you was a sensible thing to do…First year, you told us not go gallivanting around Hogwarts. We ignored you and we nearly got eaten by a 3-headed dog. Nope. How bout fifth year, I ignored you about my “saving people thing” and we all nearly got killed and we lost Sirius –”

“Harry – ”

“No, Hermione, there is not a damn force on this planet that would get me to stop talking to you. So stop trying to hide from me!” Harry’s voice rose to a yell.

Tears were stinging Hermione’s eyes again. She silently cursed her overacting tear glands.

“Hermione, Sense me. Come on.”

“No.”

“Please! I want you to know the truth.”

“No, I can’t.”

“Hermione!”

In a sudden burst of courage that seemed to stem from Harry’s cry she faced her fear and finally turned to him and looked into his eyes. She nearly collapsed at what she saw in them. He was telling the truth, he truly did want to stay with her. He wasn’t afraid. She gasped softly in relief.

“I believe you,” she breathed.

“Good.”

But this was just from his eyes. This was her own instinct. She still could not Sense Harry. She frowned in confusion.

“What’s the matter?” He asked worriedly.

“Nothing.”

“No, something happened. What did you see?”

Hermione bit her lip. “I can’t sense you.”

“Didn’t you just say…?” Harry was puzzled.

“I just got that from looking in your eyes. I could always tell, you know. I don’t need to Sense you.” Hermione said. “I can‘t, anyway.”

“Hermione, I’ve said this a million times. I WANT you to!”

“No, I mean I CAN’T.”

“What do you mean you can’t?”

Hermione stared at him. He was pushing this way too hard, as if he wanted something else. She had already told him he believed him. He wasn’t afraid; they could still be friends. But he was still pushing for her to Sense him.

“Why do you care so much, anyway!?” Hermione demanded, getting to her feet. “You were begging me last night, too. I already know looking in your eyes that you’re not scared of me. I know already, I’ll accept that now. I don’t need to Sense you. There’s something else you want. Why do you want me to Sense you so badly?”

“Because!”

“Because what, Harry?”

“Because I want to know how I feel!”

“Feel about WHAT, Harry?”

“How I feel about YOU!” Harry yelled. He had absolutely no intention of saying that out loud. None whatsoever. Yet Hermione had gotten him to not only say it, but also scream it. Harry wasn’t even one hundred percent sure himself why he was so insistent on Hermione Sensing him, but now he knew. All the confusion and uncertainty he had about his feelings for Hermione were driving him mad and he wanted to understand what he was feeling once and for all. That was why he wanted Hermione to read his mind. Like always, he needed her help in understanding something. Only this time, it was himself he wasn’t so clear on.

“Me?” Hermione gaped.

Harry nodded. “I’ve just been confused. I mean…sorry, I’ve just…you know…”

Hermione was not sure what this meant. She knew what she thought it meant, but that would be jumping to conclusions, and those jumps never ended well for anyone. If it had been anyone else, she would be offended at how he was just using her, but she knew, though, that this was not only about him. It was about the both of them, and what was going on between them. Again, she was afraid to know the truth of what Harry really felt. What the hell was the stupid Sorting Hat thinking, putting her in Gryffindor?

“Okay.”

“What?”

“I’ll try it.” Hermione said without thinking. Okay, maybe she did belong in Gryffindor a little. There was some bravery in there, along with that typical impulsiveness.

“So do you need to, like, stare at my eyes or touch my forehead or something…?”

Hermione made a face. “You watch too many movies.” She released her mind and allowed it to Sense anyone around her. Nothing.

“Are you, uh, doing it?” Harry asked nervously.

“Trying.”

A few seconds passed.

“You okay?”

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

He did, but Hermione realized she still could not Sense anything at all from Harry. She frowned and looked back up into his eyes.

“I thought you said you didn’t need to look into - “

“No, I‘m not. It’s just that I can’t get anything from you,” Hermione said.

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.”

They looked at each other curiously. Unconsciously Hermione’s gaze wandered to Harry’s scar. The damn scar that seemed to be causing all their problems. The scar that burned Harry every time he got some kind of vision or emotion from Voldemort. Suddenly it was as if one of those proverbial light bulbs flashed on right above Hermione’s head.

“It’s your Occlumency!”

The same light bulb lit above Harry’s head. “My Occlumency!”

“That’s right, you’ve been practicing shielding your mind so naturally I wouldn’t Sense anything! Now it makes sense.” Hermione exclaimed, elated at having unraveled one mystery. Harry chuckled at her evident excitement. That was something he loved about her, her enthusiasm with everything logical. “Well, I suppose that’s a good thing. Maybe Voldemort can’t do anything to you either...” she said.

“You don’t sound so sure about it being a good thing.” Harry said, raising an eyebrow.

“No…yes, well…”

“You’re as eager to see how I feel about you as I am.” Harry accused, looking her dead in the eye. She blushed.

“You have to admit it’s been very weird lately. We’re always uncomfortable and fidgety around each other. That’s never happened before,” Hermione pointed out.

“Yeah…” Harry’s eyes ran from the top of her adorably mussed hair, down the dainty slope of her forehead, over the amber crystals that were her eyes, and stopped on her soft, pink lips. Hermione realized what he was doing and looked down. About a split second before she realized she had been doing the exact same thing. Her eyes wandering down the lightning bolt shaped scar to his deep green eyes and lower to his own attractive mouth.

The topic of their conversation was obvious, but neither had the courage to put into specific words what they were thinking. “I think I can let go for a second.” Harry said, breaking his eyes away from the golden flecks of early morning sun reflecting off of Hermione’s hair.

“What?”

“I think I can let you into my mind.”

“Excuse me? I don’t think you’re supposed to do that…”

“Hold on.” Harry took a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut. Hermione looked at him, something at the back of her mind telling her this was wrong. She pushed this aside. If Harry could do it, this was the moment of truth.

“Harry?”

“Um, you Sensing anything?”

Hermione shook her head. “Harry, we’re going to get in trouble if - “

“Okay, uh, try the Legilimency spell.”

“Harry! Only a trained Legilimens should do that!”

“You’re a Sensor, who could read a mind better than you can?” Harry pointed out.

“But - “

“Please?”

Hermione sighed and pulled out her wand from her pajamas. Legilimens!”

A violent stream of images forced their way into her skull - someone screaming, Cedric Diggory’s dead body, her own limp form on the floor at the Ministry, the face of Lord Voldemort - The face of pure evil. Hermione gasped.

“Finite Incantatem!” she choked out before nearly fainting.

“Hermione!” Harry caught her in mid-collapse. “Hermione! I’m so sorry! Are you okay!? Hermione?”

“I know,” she gasped.

“What?”

“I know you’re sorry. I feel it,” she said. The waves of worry stopped washing over her as Harry understood. She was Sensing him.

“Y-you can?” Harry was nervous now. Not nervous “afraid,” a different kind of nervous. Like he was about to admit something he had been hiding for a long time - Not just from her, but from himself.

“Mm-hmmm…” Hermione murmured. It was back. That strange, unidentified feeling. The feeling that was foreign, yet felt so pleasant, so satisfying, so…good. She wasn’t just in Harry’s arms now, she was lying on a cloud. The strange emotion made her feel as light as a feather. It made her want to both laugh and cry in happiness. And it was so strong. Stronger than it was before. Then she realized it wasn’t only Harry’s emotions she was feeling. It was also her own.

Harry stared at the girl he was supporting. Her eyes were starting to flutter and there was an odd smile on her face.

“Uh, Hermione?”

“Wha - “ Hermione snapped out of her daze. Her fuzzy vision cleared and she saw Harry’s face. This only seemed to strengthen the feeling. Until she realized she was making a fool of herself in Harry’s arms. “Uhh…”

Harry couldn’t help but smile at Hermione’s flustered look. “Enjoying yourself?”

“Uh…” Hermione repeated lamely as she concentrated on not acting like a fool. Apparently it was a good thing she didn’t feel this every time she passed Harry. Even with all her focus, she still couldn’t shield herself from the strong emotion, but at least she wasn’t batting her eyes like an idiot anymore.

“So?” Harry asked, still smiling. “What’s the verdict?”

Without warning Hermione threw her arms around Harry and pressed her lips against his. Harry stumbled back in surprise, but regained his stability as he accepted the kiss. It was as if he were accepting a piece of himself back, she felt so much a part of him. His own hands moved themselves to the back of her neck as he deepened the kiss. The kiss was so passionate, so deep that it was as if they were trying to find the solution to everything in the body of the other. Hermione’s body molded against his, a perfect fit. It was sweet. It was passionate. It was true. It was perfect. It was…

Hermione stumbled back and crashed in the grass, pulling Harry down with her. She glared murderously at Crookshanks, who had just interrupted the most meaningful moment of her life. He was sitting by the corner of the house, watching innocently.

Oh, um, sorry… he started to slink away shamefully.

Harry, oblivious to what had just stopped them, followed Hermione’s gaze and caught the orange tail slip away.

“Damn cat.”

“Really.”

Realizing the moment of extreme passion was gone, Harry struggled to his feet and helped Hermione up. They helped each other attempt to brush away the damp grass stains.

Harry knew what he felt in that kiss, and he knew that there was no way in hell that she didn’t feel the same thing either. This gave him a renewed confidence.

“So, you never did tell me what you Sensed.” Harry commented, grinning cheekily. “But I think I might know what you’re going to say…”

“We can’t.” Hermione said, as if this realization where only coming to her just as she spoke the words.

Harry’s jaw dropped. “Okay, I didn’t think you would say that…”

“Harry…I…we’re friends! I can’t, WE can’t – ” Hermione was almost panicking now at the situation. She had kissed Harry. She, Hermione, had just kissed him, Harry. Best friend kissed best friend. There were so many things wrong with that scenario, yet she couldn’t quite put it into words. And it was she that initiated the kiss.

“Hermione, what did you feel in my head?”

“No, I - “

“Tell me, Hermione.”

“I don’t know…” Hermione whispered. “I never felt it before, so I couldn’t identify it.”

Harry was confused by this statement, but used the logic that characteristically belonged to Hermione. “Well, have you ever been in love?”

Hermione stared. Her own logic was failing her at the moment as her mind reeled over the incredulity of the situation. Love? She kissed Harry, she kissed Harry, she kissed Harry…

“No.” she breathed. It was becoming difficult now. Breathing. He had dropped the “L-bomb”.

“Neither have I.” Harry said, now blushing as red as Hermione must have been. “But I think maybe that’s what I’m feeling.”

“No, no, no. You can’t…feel that…for me.” Hermione couldn’t bring herself to say the word.

“Why not?”

“O-our friends. R-Ron.”

“Ron likes Luna.” Harry said sensibly.

“Harry, what if we didn’t work? That would ruin everything we had! If we broke up I don’t know if we could be friends again.” she trembled at the thought of losing him.

“Who’s to say we won’t work?”

“But Harry, we don’t know.”

Harry couldn’t believe his was pushing this. Couldn’t believe he was trying to do…whatever he was doing. What was he doing? Whatever it was, he hoped it was sane. Because there just wasn’t any stopping him now. He knew the truth.

“Hermione, I know you’re the type who needs solid proof for things. The smart, logical one and you have the proof. You saw it just now, inside my head.” Harry pointed out. “You know how I feel…so whatever you feel….you know, whatever. You feel how you feel, but I won’t stop feeling what I feel even if you don’t feel what I feel.”

Harry was fully aware that he was babbling. That was probably the most times the word “feel” was used in any statement in the history of the universe.

“I don’t know how I feel,” Hermione whispered, more at the ground than at Harry.

“You kissed me.”

Hermione said nothing.

“Well, unfortunately I can’t Sense you. I can’t help you out like you helped me…” Harry said, bending lower and trying to catch her gaze. “But I can try.”

With that his lips connected with Hermione’s again, this time initiated by him. The understanding hit her like a ton of bricks. It was like she was punched in the face, only without the pain or bloody nose. Stars exploded before her eyes. She moaned nonsense into his mouth and pulled him closer. She felt his tongue run along between her lips and pull away, as if unsure if he was allowed into that unknown territory. Urging him on, she slipped her own tongue where he had been timid.

They were officially snogging.

After a few moments, air deprivation became an issue and they reluctantly pulled away from each other, panting. She knew now. It was something many had been speculating for ages and bothered the bloody hell out of Hermione. Since the past year held little action for the Boy Who Lived, people had started honing in on Harry’s love life. Or lack thereof. He was matched to girls and articles where written about “his type of woman” in annoying publications like Witch Weekly. Many had come to the conclusion that Hermione was “it“, since she seemed to be the only girl Harry was able to converse with comfortably, and Hermione had come to the conclusion that they were all morons who needed to get a life.

But now she knew. It was going to kill her, having to confess the stupid tabloids were right. Damn it.

“You knew, didn’t you?” Hermione accused.

“Knew what?” Harry asked innocently.

“The whole time you knew what…I felt,” Hermione clarified, even though she knew he was completely aware of what she meant.

“Well…”

She smiled and plucked a blade of grass from his untidy hair. “And they say I’m the smart one.”

“We give you too much credit.”

Hermione gave him a playful shove, then turned serious. “You realize that this is all or nothing, right? We have officially crossed the line.”

“All or nothing,” Harry agreed, “but I am willing to take the risk.”

“That means a lot coming from a guy who dives within a centimeter of the ground at a hundred miles per hour on a magic stick to catch a tiny golden marble just for fun.” Hermione rolled her eyes.

Harry laughed, “Well, I have a lot more to lose with this risk.”

“What are you talking about? You could die diving like that for the Snitch,” Hermione said.

“I meant what I said.”

Hermione contemplated this for a moment. Then she contemplated this again just to make sure she wasn’t jumping to the wrong conclusion. Oh boy.

“Oh…” Hermione’s breathing started again.

“But I won’t force you to do anything. We can take it slow.” Harry reassured her, seeing the troubled look on her face.

“Slow. That’s good.” Hermione looked into his smiling eyes. She couldn’t help but smile back. He made her feel happy and safe.

“Don’t worry. Nothing bad will happen.” He embraced her in a tight hug.

“Nothing better happen,” Hermione warned, “or I’ll make sure you‘ll be peeing out of your nose.”

Harry laughed. Suddenly his laughter started to sound strangled.

“Harry?”

His grip tightened on Hermione, like he was trying to hold on for dear life. Hermione felt her breath hitch involuntarily.

“H-Harry, you’re hurting me!” she gasped. She looked at his face and his eyes were bulging. He clawed at her desperately.

“Oh my g- “ Hermione pried him off of her and laid him carefully on the ground were he writhed in agony. She stared in horror as the famous scar on his forehead glowed a bright red.

~*~

3^rd Note: Sorry, but did you know I can reply to reviews ON the reviews page!? This is a new discovery to me, but I assure you, now that I know it exists I will make full use of it ^_^.