The Sense

1. So it begins...

Note: Hi, I just had this sudden idea rammed into my face the other night, so I figured why not write about it? Rated PG-13 for some very rude language in some later chapters. You have been warned.

~*~

“PLEASE, Hermione!”

“No.”

“PLEASE!”

“NO.”

“Pleeease! I’ll do Snape’s essay tonight, I swear.”

Hermione paused for a moment at Ron’s offer.

“No.”

“Hermione, come on! We’ve got Ginny and the twins as Chasers, Harry as Seeker and I’m Keeper. We need at least ONE beater to try out Harry’s new equipment! You’re – “ Ron pointed a finger dramatically, “…You’re ruining Harry’s birthday!” He nudged Harry in the ribs.

“Ow – what, oh! Yeah!” Harry said, rubbing his ribs.

“See?”

It was the summer after their surprisingly uneventful 6^th year. The Second War was well under way, and there were already several Death Eater attacks and a few fatalities, but there were never any attempts that specifically targeted Harry. Everyone that was attacked had no connection to The Boy Who Lived whatsoever and they held no pattern. The Order of the Phoenix was greatly disturbed by this, thinking that the worst was yet to come and the Dark Lord’s minions were just biding their time, or else planning some extreme assault. They weren’t going all-out madness like 16 years ago, they were doing a little random attacks, to remind people of their presence, and were preparing for something huge. It didn’t help at all that Cornelius Fudge was doing the bare minimum to aid the situation. The most proactive thing he had done in light of the Death Eater attacks was to post Patronus instructions on store windows and pass out self-defense pamphlets to each Wizarding household. The Auror ranks were not even increased. The Order of the Phoenix devoted about three-quarters of their ranks to fighting the Death Eaters off. The other quarter, to Harry’s annoyance, took shifts in watching over him and his friends.

At the moment Kingsley and Tonks were seated in the Weasley’s kitchen, having tea with Mrs. Weasley. It was Harry’s 17^th birthday, and to celebrate Dumbledore had given permission for him to stay at the Burrow for the rest of the summer with Ron, Ginny, and Hermione. The twins now had their own place, a flat above their Diagon Alley storefront “Weasley Wizard Wheezes”, but visited the Burrow often, usually to show off and make Ron jealous. As a present from Lupin, Harry had received an official Quidditch equipment set, complete with a snitch, a quaffle, two bludgers, and two Beater bats. Fred had enchanted three of their mother’s baskets to float in the air and act as the goals and they were dying to try the new Quidditch set out. Unfortunately, they were short two beaters.

“How would you play with one beater, anyway?” Hermione huffed from her seat on the grass. The nice, solid ground.

“Well, we can’t very well have two, might as well have at least one.” Ron said.

Hermione shook her head. “I don’t want to.”

“Why not, scared to fly, are we?” George taunted. He hopped on his broom and zoomed up the hill near the Burrow, where they used to practice Quidditch with apples. Now they would be able to ditch the apples and use actual Quidditch equipment, and they were all dying to play.

“I reckon she is.” Fred grinned and followed his brother.

“I am not!” Hermione called after them.

“Prove it, then.” Ron said, thrusting an ancient, splintering broomstick at her. Hermione looked at it disdainfully.

“Oh, just leave her alone. Let’s play without bludgers.” Ginny said, grabbing the old broom from Ron and hitting him over the head with it. Then she tugged Harry away. “Come on, I have stuff to do I can’t wait all day.” She got on her broom and followed the twins.

Harry mounted his broom and hovered nine feet in the air. “I’d really appreciate it if you played Beater, Hermione.”

Hermione bit her lip, a habit that Harry was beginning to notice very frequently. She did it often when she was thinking hard, or reluctant to do something. It made her look younger than she was. Innocent. It was also a dead giveaway that she would give in. Seeing Hermione’s weakening will, he went on.

“Please? Ron and I will do Snape’s essay AND McGonagall’s if you play.”

“Well…” Hermione desperately fought the part of her brain that wanted to make Harry happy. Hermione usually had total control over her mind, but lately when she was with Harry, it seemed like it wasn’t her mind that was doing the thinking.

“I knew it! I knew Harry would break you down.” Ron grinned cheekily, interrupting Hermione’s thoughts. He picked up one of the bats playfully and tossed it between his palms. Then he mounted his broom and flew in a gleeful circle.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Hermione demanded defensively.

“Means you fancy Harry, what did you think it meant?” Ron teased, knowing fully well that he was pushing Hermione’s buttons. He loved doing that.

“WHAT!?” Harry and Hermione cried.

“Harry and Hermione, sitting in a tree – “

Ron was cut off when Hermione, fuming, released a bludger from the Quidditch chest. The bludger zigzagged a little, like a confused snitch. She grabbed a bat at swatted it, very uncharacteristic of the usual Hermione nonchalance.

BAM!

The bludger hurtled in a perfect arc towards Ron.

“Yaaaahhhh!” Ron cried in surprise. He instinctively raised his own bat in defense, deflecting the well-aimed blow.

“AHH!” The bludger had rocketed off Ron’s bat into the back of Harry’s broom. Harry was bucked forward, and fought to keep his Firebolt in the air. He jerked the nose up, but this only cause further imbalance and he hurtled into a tree with a dull “thud”.

“HARRY!” Hermione gasped, horrified.

“Bloody hell, Hermione!” Ron murmured, not sure whether to be afraid or in awe. He descended to the foot of the tree were Harry lay in a heap. Hermione raced to Harry’s side.

“Harry? Harry! Are you alright!? I’m so sorry!” Hermione shook his limp shoulder. Please, please let him be okay. Please. “I’m sorry, Harry, say something!”

Harry murmured softly.

“What? What was that, Harry?”

“I said…” Harry shot up straight, with a huge grin on his face “That was the best shot I’ve ever seen from a Beater in my whole life!”

Hermione stared in a stunned silence before her eyes flared.

“Oh shi – damn it Harry, you almost made me choke on my tonsils.” Ron coughed in relief. He beat his chest. “Damn it.”

“HARRY!” Hermione yelled angrily. “THAT WAS NOT FUNNY!”

“Sorry, Hermione, but bloody hell that was an AMAZING – “

“HARRY – “ Hermione was at a loss for words. She punched his shoulder. “Don’t DO THAT!”

“But Hermione, really, your aim was dead on, it was brilliant!” Ron agreed. “You’ve got to be our Beater! In fact, I think you should try out for the Gryffindor team!”

Hermione ignored him. “Harry, I should hex your head right off your shoulders for that trick. I thought I really hurt you. ” She fumed.

Harry blushed and got up, dusting his pants off. “Sorry, Hermione…” he reached out a hand to help Hermione up from her kneeling position. “…I just thought – “

Hermione swatted his hand away. “No. It wasn’t funny.” She got up herself and stomped into the house, her face a bright red.

Ron watched her go. “Sometimes I think she’s a bit mad. It was just a joke.”

“Shut up, Ron.” Harry ran after her, leaving Ron bewildered.

“What the hell is going on with them lately? I’m not a bloody mind-reader for Merlin’s sake!”

2. The Incident

Note: Thank you for reviewing. As the story goes on I really want some advice/constructive criticism to help me improve, since I'm pretty new to all of this. I don't want to write all amateurish-like and I have some other ideas for fics but I want to get my skills down first, ya know? Anyway, enjoy!

~*~

“So what do you think that has to do with the Death Eaters’ movements?” Tonks asked.

“I don’t think they’re as random as most people make them out to be.” Kingsley clarified.

Tonks sipped her tea thoughtfully. “What makes you say that?”

“Well – “

Suddenly their quiet conversation was interrupted by the kitchen door swinging open and slamming into the wall with a BANG. Hermione stormed in.

“Stop following me, Harry.”

“Hermione, I’m sorry!”

Hermione attempted to shut the door in his face, but Harry was too quick. He put his hand in the door. “Come on, Hermione!”

Hermione ignored him and shut the door on his hand. The door bounced back, leaving a red mark on Harry’s hand.

“Oww!”

“Serves you right!”

“Psst.” Tonks poked Kingsley in the shoulder and indicated the living room with her chin. He nodded and they silently went for the exit to continue their conversation elsewhere.

“No, stay.” Hermione ordered at them with the ferocity of a pissed off tiger. “You don’t have to leave, nothing’s going on here.”

Tonks and Kingsley raised an eyebrow each. "Uh-huh. And my butt can sing opera." Tonks said sarcastically.

“Yeah, I think Tonks and I have to, uh, there’s a – “

“Mrs. Weasley needs us.” Tonks declared.

“Ah, yes! Important business, you see.” They hurried out. Hermione growled and started to follow them out of the kitchen, turning away brusquely from Harry.

“Hermione, it was just a joke! Ron’s done a billion of them before! Fred and George even more so!” Harry ignored Tonks and Kingsley's departure and tried to get Hermione to face him.

“And if you recall, you prat, I was mad at them too.”

Harry didn’t accept this. “You seem a lot madder at me than you ever where at them. Even when they enlarged all your bras and fooled you into thinking your…you...got smaller!”

Hermione blushed for a moment at this memory, then shook it away. “They never made me think that I had killed them!”

“I was only nine feet in the air!”

“You could have been badly hurt!”

“Hermione…” Harry put a hand on her shoulder to turn her around. “Come on, turn around. Hermione, I know you would never hurt me, and if you did accidentally I’d know you could help me anyway.”

Hermione fought back whatever emotional "thing" was trying to surface. “It really wasn’t funny. I hate when you get hurt…it....” She trailed off, not knowing how to put into words how she felt. How every time Harry is forced to suffer something she feels it too, in an indirect, sympathetic way. And how it would be very hard to stand if she was the cause of any suffering. She was already trying very hard not to get overemotional, as she didn’t want Harry telling Ron and the both of them having a private laugh at the crybaby. But Harry needed no further explanation.

“I’m sorry. I’ll keep mental note of that. I won’t pretend to be hurt. Okay?”

Hermione said nothing for a moment, collecting her thoughts so they made sense. Then, recognizing his sincerity, she moved forward and enveloped Harry in a tight hug. Harry, caught off guard, awkwardly patted her back. He knew he was blushing severely and he hoped Hermione wouldn’t notice.

“Hey, where are you going?” Harry asked when Hermione pulled away and started back to the door.

“I’m playing Quidditch.” she called back, matter-of-factly.

Harry stared after her.

~*~

“I can’t believe you got her off the ground, Harry.” Ginny commented.

“Yeah, she’s actually flying, mate!” Fred nodded.

Actually, Hermione was not flying despite her friends' encouragement, so much as hovering three feet off the grass. She sat on Ron’s prehistoric broomstick, clutching its flaking handle with both hands so hard that her knuckles had gone white. The shaft looked ready to snap. Her Beater’s bat was being wedged between her body and the broom being clutched tightly to her chest. Harry stood on the ground patiently, willing Hermione to loosen up.

“Hermione, you’ve got ease up on your grip. You can’t control a broom like that.”

“You’ve got to be kidding, I’m like a mile up!”

Ron snickered.

“Um, Hermione…” Harry touched her tense shoulder. “You’re barely at waist level.”

“Harry, at least get her to open her eyes!” George called from above.

“Excuse me? I am right here, you do not have to speak to me through Harry!” Hermione snarled.

“Alright then, Hermione, open your eyes!” George dared.

Hermione bit her lip and peeked. Her look became mildly surprised. "Hey, I'm practically still on the ground!”

Harry smiled. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. Now loosen up, will you? No, don’t lock your elbows. You NEVER lock your elbows. That’s how people lose control.”

Hermione loosened her arms. Slowly her boom tilted upwards and she ascended, quivering.

“Oh God. If I fall, each one of you will be spouting locusts from your nostrils for weeks."

"But wouldn't that ruin British agriculture, then?" Ron asked cheekily.

"Stuff it."

Harry watched Hermione get steady. Her hand was loosening, still tight and frightened, but it was an improvement. Her eyes were open now and it was obvious she was concentrating her hardest. He watched as her brow furrowed as intensely as if she were reading her Lockhart books, which Ron and the twins had found hidden neatly under her folded clothes when they went snooping to...charm...her bras. This was good, maybe if she trained enough this summer she would be at least Sloper or Kirke level. The two were nice boys, really, but if he was going to have mediocre Beaters, he might as well have one that was close with most of the members on the team. Neither boys were very well acquainted with the other Gryffindor team members, and this caused a few communication issues.

“Atta girl, Hermione.” Ginny encouraged her friend. “Ease up there. Slower. Yeah, good!”

Ginny grinned at Hermione’s apparent success and darted away with the twins to the other side of the hill to toss the Quaffle around.

“This is like some bad dream. A nightmare. Accented by the fact that Ron is better than me at something.”

“Quit whining, Hermione!” Ron teased and performed a rolling move in front of her, causing Hermione to grumpily mutter "Show-off".

“Hey, that’s her line.” Harry said, joining his friends in the sky. “’Quit whining, Ron!”’ he mocked her in a high, squeaky voice.

Hermione started to smile. Flying wasn't bad. Especially with so many people looking out for you. “Shut up, I do not– “

Suddenly her broom started to quake.

“W-whats going on!?” Hermione yelled. Without warning the broom jolted back and forth. It wiggled as if it were trying to purposely hurl Hermione off. The nose of the broom shot up and soared upwards, then did a complete loop and plummeted back to its original level. The front and back of the broom bucked back and forth like a seesaw gone mad. Hermione was now no longer sitting on the broom. She was hanging on for dear life.

“AhhhhhhhhH!!”

“The damn broom’s old, it must be malfunctioning!” Fred cried frantically from across the field. He, Ginny, and George hurtled toward where they saw Hermione grasping her broom desperately, but their brooms were no Firebolts.

“I-I didn’t know it was broken!” Ron stammered trying to get near Hermione but the broom bucked and knocked Ron away, awarding him with an instant black eye. “Ahh!”

“Hold on, Hermione, hold on.” Harry circled to find a way at her without forcing them both from the sky. He now understood what looking for a needle in a haystack was like. There appeared to be no possible way in.

“H-Har-r-ry-yy!” Hermione tried to scream, but the word was broken apart by the tottering broomstick.

“Just hold on, hold - “

Suddenly Hermione could not keep her grip any longer.

“NO!” Harry's stomach dropped at the exact moment Hermione let go. Her fingers gave way and old splinters flew as she plummeted twenty feet to the ground, having one of her worst fears realized.

Harry’s worst fear too was realized as he dove to the ground after her. He swiped at her flailing form as she fell and snagged her ankle, but her momentum was unexpected. Unlike a snitch, Hermione was much larger and heavier. Refusing to let go, Harry grasped her ankle tighter. This was a mistake as Hermione’s momentum caused Harry on his broom to involuntarily sweep like a big pendulum. She was swung and Harry could no longer keep his grip. Hermione was flung into the nearest tree, where she collided with a dull THUD.

3. Rude Awakening

Note: Thank you again for the reviews. Like always, I am looking to improve my work so if anything can be fixed, please tell me. 'Tis greatly appreciated ^_^. Oh, and also updates are shortish and shall remain shortish for a little while. I'm a senior in high school who will be graduating soon so it's kind of hectic right now. But hey, after I graduate I'll have the whole summer to write. All I have to do is shelf books at a library (the worst possible summer job imaginable). So, on with the show...

Mrs. Weasley carefully descended their creaking stairs into the living room, where Tonks and Kingsley were deep in discussion.

“Why are you two in here? I thought you where in the kitchen.”

“Lover’s spat in the kitchen.” Tonks grinned. Kingsley laughed.

“Excuse me?” Mrs. Weasley clutched her apron and wrung it between her fingers.

“Harry and Hermione were in there fighting in there about half an hour ago, so we thought it best to leave them alone.” Kingsley said.

“And what makes you think they are – “

“Relax, Molly, it was just a joke!” Tonks motioned her to come sit down. Mrs. Weasley relaxed and took a seat.

“What were they fighting about?”

“No clue. Tea?” Tonks offered. Mrs. Weasley shook her head.

“Was it bad? Do I have to speak – “

“Molly, relax, they can handle it. They’re adults.” Kingsley said. “Now, do you know when the – “

Suddenly they heard the creaking kitchen door swing open and slam against the wall. Several footsteps pounded against the Weasley's worn but clean floor. The yelling voices of distressed teenagers interrupted the conversation.

“MUM!” Ron yelled.

“Mum, Hermione fell!” Ginny rushed into the living room, flushed.

Ron and the twins followed her, all equally out of breath.

“She was – “ Fred gasped.

“We…fly…she – “ George tried to elaborate.

“Fell…shitty broom – “

“WHAT have I told you about foul language in this house!?” Mrs. Weasley scolded, temporarily focusing on Fred's choice of words.

Harry then scrambled in, a limp Hermione in his arms.

“Oh, Hermione!” Molly rushed over. Tonks and Kingsley shot up and gently nudged some Weasleys aside to help.

“Here, let me have her.” Kingsley took Hermione from Harry’s arms and placed her on the couch. Harry was reluctant to let go of her, but he knew that she as in good hands. This did nothing but strengthen his feeling of helplessness. “What happened?”

“We wanted to play Quidditch. We got her to play with us but – “ Harry began.

“You got her on a BROOM?!” Mrs. Weasley demanded. Though it was never spoken out loud by anyone, it was common knowledge that Hermione avoided broomsticks.

“Yeah, she said she wanted to give it a go, so we gave her my old broom.” Ron explained.

“No, we made her do it.” Harry said quietly, looking away. “We guilted her into doing it. I guilted her. Said it would ruin my birthday if she didn’t.”

“Harry, this is not your fault.”Ginny said firmly, joining Kingsley and Tonks and Hermione’s side.

“Yeah, mate, it was an accident. Not everything is your fault.” Ron agreed. His voice wavered. “If anything…it’s my fault. I gave her the stupid broom.”

“You didn’t know she would fall.”

“Neither did you.”

“I still got her to do it.”

“Please, since when has anyone gotten Hermione to do something she didn’t want to do, anyway? She’s got a will of a stubborn horse, that one. Remember when she dumped that Brain Elixir of Carmichael's before your O.W.L.s?” Fred said.

"They were doxy droppings." Ginny reminded them.

“I do it all the time.” Harry murmured silently. He always got Hermione to do things she didnt want to do. The most recent and major being when he almost brought her, Ron, Ginny, Neville and Luna to their deaths in the Ministry of Magic in his 5th year. He wrung his hands until he could no longer feel his fingers and his forehead had wrinkled in worry. He had a sudden flashback of when Antonin Dolohov cursed Hermione into unconsciousness and he felt the same feeling of guilt, regret, helplessness.

Now I know how she felt when I pretended to be hurt. I’m scum. I can’t believe I did this to her...It’s my fault...I did this...

“Ouch, we’ve got something.” Tonks announced, holding back a clump of soft brown bangs. A large round bruise disfigured Hermione’s flawless skin near her left temple. Harry bit his lip so hard he tasted blood.

Hermione, be ok. Please, be okay.

"Should we, I mean, we need ice for that right?"

The Weasleys stared at him like he was mad.

"What?" Ron asked, bewildered.

"To bring down the swelling. We need ice." Harry clarified. He was met with the same blank stares.

"Mitigo" Tonks said. She pointed her wand at Hermione's forehead and instantly the nasty bruise began to shrink. In a few seconds all trace of it was gone.

"What are you going on about, Harry? Ice?" George wondered.

"Muggles do it to bring swelling down."

Mrs. Weasley looked mystified. "Really? And how long does that take?"

"Few hours...depends on how bad it is. Sometimes days."

Mrs. Weasley looked horrified and shook her head, muttering about "poor muggles". "If we had to do that, the amount of times my boys have been knocked in the head, they'd have permanent brain damage by now."

"You mean they don't?" Ginny made a face. "A lot of good magic did them, then."

"Watch it, Ginny." Ron threatened.

Ginny ignored Ron and peered into Hermione's face. "So she'll be okay? Won't end up as dim as this lot?" she indicated her brothers.

"She'll be just fine, the damage is gone. In fact, I'd say she'll be waking up any minute now." Tonks smiled.

Thank God. Harry wiped his forehead, surprised to see how slick with sweat it had gotten.

~*~

Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay...

She'll be alright...

She's got to be okay, she's go to be...

Hermione's blank mind was suddenly assaulted with intense feelings of worry. Her thoughts exploded with feelings of guilt and anxiousness. It was as if a blanket of worries had been wrapped around her brain, trying to smother it. Wave upon wave of anxiety pounded at her. She couldn't take it. She jolted awake and her eyes were greeted with 5 heads of red hair and piercing green eyes. She clutched her head and screamed.

~*~

"Hermione!" Harry cried. She curled into a shaking ball and shrieked.

"NO! STOP IT! LEAVE ME ALONE, NO!!" she screamed, grasping her ears as if blocking her hearing would stop the assault. Instead, the Weasleys, Harry, Kingsley and Tonks seemed to get even more panicked about Hermione. Confusion also radiated from them. This increased the pressure on Hermione's brain to the point of torture.

"Hermione, please, what's wrong!?" Mrs. Weasley grasped her by the shoulders. Hermione was blasted with another wave of panic, but this wave seemed to be held back by something. Something soft. Warm. Inviting. Pleasant.

She realized that all of their anxiety and panic seemed to be lined with this feeling. The warm, pleasant feeling that seemed to transform the savage attacks into something bearable.

What the hell is going on?

She removed her hands from her ears, but she still shook in fear. The feelings where tolerable now. They were not as clear anymore, but tolerable. Their thoughts were growing vague.

Their thoughts? I could feel their thoughts!?

"Hermione" Harry grabbed both her shoulders from Mrs. Weasley and looked into her eyes. "Hermione, are you okay?"

Harry had the warmest feeling. The most pleasurable. It made her feel relaxed, as if she were lying on a cloud and had no troubles in the world. She was so wrapped up in the amazing feeling that she did not answer. She closed her eyes.

"Hermione, please talk." Harry said more desperately, seeing that Hermione had closed her eyes again. He gave her shoulders a little squeeze. "Please."

Suddenly the warm pleasant feeling was replaced. Increasing guilt and panic washed over Hermione again. Again, the mental strain became intense.

"ARGH!" she cried and pulled away as if Harry's touch burned her skin. "I have to...I have..." She could not continue. She could not take it. The Weasleys, Kingsley and Tonks stared as she bolted from the couch and sprinted to the room she and Ginny shared. The door shut with a BANG.

Harry bit his lip. She hates me.

---That's all for Chapter 3. I just wanted to insert this random bit of information: EVERYONE must go watch Prisoner of Azkaban, if you haven't already. There was so much H/Hr I nearly spazzed. In a good way.

4. Hermione Doolittle

Note: Hi. As always, review and tell me what you honestly think. I do read them all. I take criticism very well. Just ask my friends. Wait you can’t, they’re dead. Hah! Just kidding…heh…heh…

Hermione sat at the edge of Ginny‘s bed, her knees brought up to her chin. She wrapped her arms around her legs, trying to scrunch down in the smallest form possible.

What’s going on? What’s happening? Why do I hear things? What are they? Why? How?

Questions swirled around uselessly in her brain. She had read about these types of things before. Empaths who could sense feelings and such. But she had never heard of people actually reading someone’s feelings AND thoughts as if they were being said in actual words. And she had never heard of one developing these powers after a nasty blow to the head. Hermione touched her forehead, trying to guess where her injury had been. Tonks had done a good job, though, and there was no sign of any bruising.

Nothing. She felt nothing now. And when the Weasleys, Harry, Tonks, and Kingsley were all crowded around her, she could hear their actual thoughts. Evidently, the further away from a source of thoughts, the lesser the intensity of the feeling. This did nothing to comfort her, as she still had no idea what to do.

“I’ll write to Dumbledore.” she said to herself. Grabbing the closest bit of parchment and a random quill, she began to write with a shaking hand. But what to write?

Please, sir, I got hurled into a tree and now I can read people’s minds...?

It seemed a bit strange, but it would be the right thing to do. If anyone knew what was going on with her, Dumbledore would.

Assuming there was something to do about it. One thing Hermione did know was that she did not want to wander around reading people' minds. It was rude, invasive, and not to mention painful. She cursed herself for not bringing a larger collection of books with her from home. None of the books she had with her would contain anything about her condition.

Hermione scribbled down the situation as eloquently as possible, trying to make it seem not quite so stupid. After she was positive that the letter made sense, but didn’t seem too desperate (Dumbledore must be busy now, what with a war going on) she got up to find Hedwig. Hedwig was usually perched by the window in the room that Ron and Harry shared. She had to somehow get to Ron and Harry's room without being intercepted in the hallway.

Fat chance.

She cracked open the door and peeked into the hallway. No one was around. Then she figured, really, wouldn't she feel anyone who was approaching? Hermione blushed for overlooking this fact and padded softly into Ron and Harry’s room. Harry and Ron’s clothes were strewn about in odd places. She noticed disdainfully the pair of socks hanging from the doorknob. Clearly, Mrs. Weasley hadn’t come into this room today. Hermione prayed she wouldn't accidently step on some dirty underwear.

Hedwig sat perched on a worn armoire, preening herself. As soon as she noticed that Hermione was coming toward her, she stopped abruptly and stared. Hermione suddenly felt a confusion that did not belong to her.

“Hello...Hedwig...would you mind...” The confused feeling persisted. Hermione stopped and stared back at Hedwig. No, it couldn’t be. But there was no one else in the room.

“No...no, can’t be. Hedwig can’t have...”

The rays of confusion eased into that of realization. Hermione’s mouth dropped open at the same time Hedwig’s beak seemed to do the same.

Of course I’ve got thoughts! I should peck your bloody ears for that!

Hermione stood in shock. “I’ve gone mad. I’m talking telepathically with an owl.”

Hermione, stop talking to yourself. It’s rather unhealthy.

“Hedwig!?”

I thought we’ve established that already. Hello, Hermione.

“You can understand me?” Hermione’s voice wavered slightly.

No. I only speak German. Duh!

“You know my name?”

Now this is just insulting. I’ve known you for years. What do you think I am, an idiot?

“Sorry.” Hermione looked genuinely embarrassed. “How come you never said anything before?”

Well, having a beak makes it a bit difficult...

“I meant telepathically. Like you are now.” Hermione made a face. Hedwig was a bit snarky for a bird.

I do. All the time. Especially when you lot are about to go out and do something stupid. I mean really, I screech in your heads telepathically but you always end up going to get yourself killed anyway. It’s rather frustrating.

“Do you know why I can hear you now?”

Hedwig cocked her head slightly. Well, I can only guess you’ve received some kind of power.

“Yeah, I can read people’s minds. And apparently talk to animals too.”

Odd.

“Thank you, Hedwig, for the understatement of all time.” Hermione rubbed at the bridge of her nose. Her head was beginning to ache. “I suppose you‘d say that Voldemort is ‘kind of naughty‘ or the citizens of Troy were a 'a tad surprised' the night they brought in that horse.”

What are you talking about?

Hermione shook her head and sat at the foot of Ron's bed. “Never mind. I wonder why I can’t tell what you’re thinking. I can sort of feel your emotions, but not as strong as I did with everyone downstairs.”

Well you’re human, so I figure you’re more susceptible to a human's emotion.

Hermione nodded thoughtfully. “So you listen to us all the time? I know Harry talks to you a lot.”

Oh yes, I hear everything. People like to divulge their little secrets in me. Especially Harry. Must have something to do with the ‘me not being able to talk to anyone’ thing.

Hermione looked surprised. “Really? Harry tells you things? Like what?”

Wouldn’t you like to know...

“I’m joking. You don’t have to tell me." Hermione blushed. "But it must get pretty boring not having anyone to conversate with.”

Well, the Hogwarts owls are a decent bunch. But they’re pretty limited. Like talking to a house-elf. Almost all magical creatures can communicate with each other.

“Really?”

Really. But mostly I spend most of my time talking to him over there.

Crookshanks loped into the room clumsily. He stopped at the door and slumped down onto his haunches. Hermione sensed extreme boredom from him.

Oh, Hermione’s here. I s’pose she wants to pet me now. And I had just washed, too.

“Well I won’t pet you if you don’t want me to.”

“Meee-ROOW!“ Crookshanks head shot up and he arched his back. His hair stuck up in all directions.

Holy shit!

Uh-uh, language, Crookshanks. Hedwig shook her head.

“Honestly, Crookshanks, swearing is impolite.” Hermione grinned.

Hermione can fuckin hear us?

“Yes, Crookshanks, unfortunately. I had no idea you were such a potty mouth.” Hermione looked sternly at her orange car.

She can understand us now. And read the minds of humans, too. Hedwig explained.

How the bloody hell did that happen? Crookshanks sat on his rear and blinked up at them. Now that Hermione knew that they could think and communicate as rationally as any wizard, she was starting to notice how human-like their habits were. Wait don’t tell me. That broom accident. Everyone’s still going on about it downstairs. Saying something was wrong with you. That’s why I came up here. I looked in Ginny’s room but you weren’t there so I figured I’d spend some quality time with Hedwig.

“Oh, you came up here to comfort me? That’s so sweet!” Hermione picked Crookshanks up and gave him a little hug. “I knew it. Ron keeps trying to tell me that you just let me cuddle you because you like the treat in my pocket or something.”

Crookshanks’s ear perked up. You’ve got one?

“No.” Hermione chuckled softly and gave Crookshanks a kiss on the top of the head. It was strange, but it was relieving to know that she could talk to them without being bombarded by intense human emotion.

Aww, ickle Crookie-shanksy. Hedwig teased.

Come on, Hermione, not in front of the owl! Crookshanks wriggled away. Clearly you do not need any consolation or anything. I’m going back downstairs and finding something to eat. He stalked out of the room, his bottlebrush tail held high.

Did that cat just moon me? I oughta...

“He’s got a disposition just like Ron’s.” Hermione observed. “It’s odd, considering how much they seem to hate each other.”

Yeah, I noticed that too. Then again, I don’t have much to do nowadays but notice stuff about you people. And deliver messages.

Hermione looked interested. “So what do you notice about us?”

You’re all bloody mad. Ron is as crude as your cat and Harry is just fooling himself.

“Fooling himself? About what?”

And you’re blinder than a newborn bat.

“Blind? Blind about what?” Hermione asked, mildly offended.

You’ll figure it out. I said you’re blind, not stupid. You’re actually one of the smarter humans I’ve come across.

Crinkles formed on Hermione’s forehead as she wondered what on earth Hedwig was talking about. “You’re not even going to give me a hint?”

No fun in that.

“Well you can’t just dangle something like that in my face!” Suddenly she felt the familiar waves of guilt begin to pound on her mind. “Oh, Hedwig, it’s okay! You don’t have to feel guilty about it.”

Hedwig blinked at her. I’m not feling guilty...

Hermione was puzzled. “If you’re not - “

Just then Hedwig hooted loudly. Uh, Hermione...

“What is it, Hedwig?” Hermione started rubbing her head again. The feelings invading her head were beginning to hurt again. A soft footstep caused her to whirl around, almost falling off the foot of Ron’s bed.

“Hermione?” Harry looked back and forth between Hermione and Hedwig. Hermione flushed a very bright red when she sensed that Harry knew she had been talking to Hedwig. Waves of worry pulsed into Hermione and she flinched. “Are...were you talking...to Hedwig?”

Hermione, still a deep scarlet, mumbled. “I, uh...”

That letter.

Hermione glanced at Hedwig.

That letter! Say you were going to ask me to send it.

Hermione raised the long forgotten and now-crumpled bit of parchment that she intended to send to Dumbledore. “I-I needed to get Hedwig to send this. D-do you mind if I borrow her?”

Harry looked concerned. She’s acting strange. All my fault, I probably damaged her brain or something...

“Stop blaming yourself for everything, Harry!” Hermione blurted.

“I didn’t say anything...” Harry stared. He was very confused. Hermione bit her lip, trying to withstand the heavy emotions coming from Harry. As soon as her teeth made contact with her bottom lip, though, Hermione felt his feelings change. It was that pleasant feeling she had felt downstairs. That unidentified feeling.

“But go ahead.”

“Huh?” Hermione snapped out of it. “Go what?”

“Borrow Hedwig?”

“Oh.” Hermione blushed and gave Hedwig the letter. “Dumbledore” she muttered so Harry wouldn’t hear her.

Right-O. But first, tell me. Did you feel it?

Hermione gave Hedwig a puzzled look.

Oh, never mind. Hedwig launched out the window and disappeared into the sky.

5. A "Gift"

Note: Thanks for the reviews. Found some typos, and I will work on that. I've decided, though, that this will end up being a series of maybe 3 stories. Trust me, unless you want a load of crap crammed to the brim with insane plot, it's best I spread it thin. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter and please review. The better I get, the better a story you get to read. It's really a win-win situation here.

Hedwig left, leaving Harry and Hermione standing opposite each other trying to find something, anything, to do with their hands. Who invented these damn appendages, anyway? Hermione had never experienced anything so awkward in her entire life. And that was including when she was 14 and accidentally walked in on her father in the bathroom buck-naked.

"Th-thanks, Harry." Hermione stammered, desperate to break the silence.

"No problem." Harry said uncertainly. Hermione could tell he was still anxious. She could tell it strongly. "So, are you...okay? No headaches or anything?"

"Well, a little." Hermione was then assaulted by the classic Harry "its all my fault" feeling. "Harry, it's not your fault. Stop beating yourself up about it. I'm fine." Hermione thought for a moment. "If it's anyone's fault, it's the wizard who invented Quidditch in the first place. Honestly, how bored does one have to be to charm a bunch of balls to fly around and chase them on a broomstick?"

Harry smiled slowly. He was easing up. "I still feel like dirt though. I have to make it up to you. I will make it up to you."

"Don't be silly. You are not dirt. I should know, I just had my face driven into it a little while ago."

He grinned in spite of himself. The pleasant emotion was back. "Oh, and I wanted to tell you. Dumbledore is coming tomorrow. Order meeting, as well as to start my Occlumency lessons again."

Wonderful. That information beforehand could have spared me a very embarrassing discovery of me talking to an owl.

"Hey, you got a little something on your..." Harry pointed at a streak of dirt halfway between her shoulder and her neck. "Here, I got it." He pulled a rumpled tissue out of his pocket and started gently wiping away the dirt. Hermione was nearly getting drunk off the feelings coming from Harry. She needed to learn how to control this, before she did something embarrassing and stupid like flutter her eyes at him.

"I-I..." Hermione forced herself to say something. "Harry Potter, is that a USED tissue!?"

"What? No, why would I - " Harry inspected the tissue and unrolled it. "Oh..."

Hermione felt Harry's embarrassment. It was like heat coming from a furnace.

"HARRY POTTER, you did NOT just touch me with a used tissue!"

"Uh,,,"

"HARRY!"

~*~

"She was talking to Hedwig?"

"Yeah."

"You do that all the time."

"No, I mean...its was like she was answering her. Like they were having a full 2-sided conversation." Harry shifted uncomfortably.

"Always knew she was mental."

"She's not mental, Ron! I think the fall hurt her more than she's letting on." Harry lay in his sleeping bag on Ron's floor, staring up at their ceiling. They had turned in early, right after supper, so Harry could tell Ron about how strange Hermione had been acting. Throughout dinner Hermione kept flinching or looking nauseous. Several times he had caught Hermione squeezing her eyes shut as if trying to will some kind of pain away. Tonks, who had stayed for supper, noticed it too.

"Hermione? Are you all right?" Tonks had peered at Hermione past Harry and Fred, who were sitting in between them at the table.

"Yes." Hermione had obviously lied. Her face was glistening with sweat. "Um, I'm not feeling well. May I be excused...?" She hadn't waited for an answer. Instead she got up and practically sprinted upstairs, rubbing at her forehead.

"Well, then what do you think is wrong with her, then?" Ron asked tiredly. It was becoming evident that Harry wasn't sleepy. Thus Ron would be up as long as he was.

"No idea. But it's up to us to find out."

"There you go again. Sounding like a bloody hero." Ron moaned. "'It's up to us to find out. Nyah.'" Ron squealed in a high-pitched voice. Harry awarded him with a mouth full of pillow. "Must be cabin fever. No one's tried to kill you for a whole ruddy year and now you're itching to have an adventure."

~*~

"You're doing very well, Harry. Very well indeed." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. He was pleased with the progress Harry had made in Occlumency on the first day. "I was only able to sort through about 3 of your memories this time around."

"Yeah...yeah, thanks." Harry mumbled wearily. His lessons with Snape in fifth year were nowhere near this tiring but then again he had not been trying anywhere near as hard. It was much easier to work with Dumbledore. Especially outside of school and the stress of classes.

"I think we are finished for this afternoon, but remember to clear your thoughts every night. Someday you will be able to do this unconsciously, but for now you're going to have to make an effort. It is very serious that you do this, I suspect you've noticed the lack of activity from Voldemort and his followers?"

Harry nodded.

"Then you already know that the longer they lay dormant, the worse their plan is. You need to protect yourself, Harry."

Harry nodded again noiselessly. It never left him that if he had learned his Occlumency in the first place, his friends would have never almost have been killed and Sirius might still be...He shut his eyes trying to squeeze the thoughts out of his brain. He was responsible now not just for himself, but for everyone close to him. He knew that now, and he vowed to never ever make that mistake again.

"Ah, Miss Granger. Thank you for coming."

Harry swiveled around to see Hermione standing at the door, looking quite ill.

"Harry..." Hermione started. She had seen all that Harry was thinking and it pained her. "You can't - "

"Harry, would you mind leaving Miss Granger and I for a moment? We have something to discuss." Dumbledore smiled serenely.

Harry looked back and forth between Hermione and Dumbledore. "Oh, yeah...okay then." He walked passed Hermione at the door and met her eyes. "See you later."

"Y-yeah..." Harry left.

"Good afternoon Miss Granger. I believe you wanted to talk to me about...a gift?" Dumbledore retrieved her crumpled letter from his robes and flattened it out.

"Gift? GIFT!? Professor, I can't even look people anymore! Can't be near too many people! Even Harry! I can't even look Harry in the eyes without my head nearly exploding!! Do you know what he's feeling? Do you!? It's been over a year since we went to the Ministry and he still - " Hermione breathed hard, shocked at how she had addressed her Headmaster. "I mean, Professor..."

"It's quite alright, Miss Granger." He sat in a chair and beckoned Hermione to sit in the one facing him. "You sustained an injury to the head, am I correct?"

"Yes Professor."

"And you think your gift stemmed from this injury?"

"Professor, it is NOT a gift."

"Why do you think so?"

"I can't be with anyone anymore! I have to avoid everyone I know because their emotions put so much pressure on my mind that I can't take it! Ron is convinced I've gone mental and Mrs. Weasley is convinced I'm ill and she wants to take me to a Wizarding Clinic! Harry wont stop following me around, he is dedicated to finding out what's wrong with me. But every time he comes near me I feel his worry and it nearly makes me seizure on the spot! Not to mention Ron has got some VERY naughty thoughts going on in that daft head of his."

"So why not tell them?"

Hermione looked down at her feet. "Who would want to be near me if they know I can read their minds."

"I see."

"Oh please, Professor, please don't tell anyone - "

"Miss Granger I have no intention whatsoever of revealing your secret to anyone." Dumbledore assured her.

Hermione calmed her breath. "Professor...can you help me?"

"Of course." Dumbledore stated. "It will be hard work but I am very familiar with your work ethic, so I have the utmost confidence in you. But first you must understand what exactly is happening to you." He took a small bag from his pocket and held it out to Hermione. "Lemon drop?"

"Um, no thank you, Professor."

"Very well then." Dumbledore took one for himself and returned the package back to his robes. "To Muggles your gift is usually called Extrasensory Perception, or ESP - "

"Muggles? Muggles can do this too? I thought they were just frauds."

"They are." Dumbledore seemed to laugh with his eyes. "Muggles claim to have ESP but they either set up their proof, or make very good educated guesses. ESP is a gift that requires magical blood."

"That's a shame. My mother's friend has invested lots of money in the Psychic Friends hotline." Hermione made a face.

"Well, some true wizards with the gift like to profit on it by selling their services to the Muggle and Wizarding world."

"Professor, it really is not a gif - "

"In the wizarding world it is simply and most commonly called The Sense."

Hermione gave up on trying to convince Dumbledore that it wasn't a gift. Instead she relaxed herself and paid rapt attention.

"The Sense, as you know, provides the Sensor the power to hear or feel the thoughts and emotions. The closer in proximity the subject is, the stronger the Sense. And as you may already know, it is not only humans you can sense."

Hermione nodded. Crookshanks and Hedwig. Magical creatures.

"The Sense cannot be acquired through any natural means. The Sensor is born with it."

Hermione looked puzzled. "But Professor, I've never felt it before. Only after my accident."

"It usually surfaces in a young witch or wizard's later adolescence, shortly after puberty. The fall had nothing to do with it, it was going to happen to you regardless."

"Oh." This revelation did not matter to her so much. What she really wanted was to stop The bloody Sense. "Is there a way to..."

"Disable it? No." Hermione's shoulders sagged. "But there are ways to control it. But learning to control your gift will be as difficult if not more so than Occlumency."

This information did not look very promising. Hermione knew how hard Harry had worked on Occlumency and how after several months he was still unable to master it. And Harry was one of the strongest wizards she had ever known.

"So, would you be willing to study these methods of control?" Dumbledore asked. He had a slightly annoying habit of asking questions he already knew the answers to.

"Yes, Professor. Thank you."

"It really is no problem, Miss Granger. It will actually please me to work with another Sensor. Our kind are not very common, you know."

Hermione nodded and smiled. Then his words sunk in and she stared.

"Professor, you mean to say that you - "

"Well I don't suppose you noticed that you were not getting any of my emotions?"

Hermione stared. It was true, she hadn't been feeling anything from Dumbledore. She hadn't even noticed.

"How - "

"Sensors cannot read other sensors." Dumbledore explained, his eyes twinkling. "I didn't know for sure you were one until you walked into the room earlier and I felt nothing from you."

"So...but you can stand it? All the feelings. It's not painful."

"I have practiced control enough so that I am not reading someone's mind at every given moment like you are right now. I have my morals as do you. And believe me, I know how uncomfortable it is. Especially around Mr. Weasley." Dumbledore winked.

For the first time in a long time Hermione grinned a genuinely happy grin.

----Other Note: I graduate tomorrow, and then I'm going on vacation for a little bit. Don't expect and update for a little over a week. Sorry.

6. Secrets

Note: You people are good at reviewing! Thanks! Many of you make some good points and I promise I WILL address them all in the story. It's still in the works, so it won't be too hard to answer your questions within the story itself. If I can't do that, I'll try to have Reviewers Response thing. But for now I think I got it. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this...

A whirlwind of images flooded Hermione’s mind and seemed to push all of her own thoughts out of her head. A little boy on his knees, pleading that he never get sent away from the school. The same boy, a little older, glaring silently at his entire table. The boy even older now, sneering in the most malicious manner Hermione had ever witnessed. It made the worst Malfoy sneer look boyish and adorable. The change in this one person’s mind was enough to buckle her knees, and she banged her elbow painfully against a side table as she collapsed. The torrent of images stopped.

“Are you all right, Miss Granger.” Dumbledore asked. Hermione, still shaking from the assault, nodded grimly.

“Who…who was that?”

It was a little over a week after Harry’s birthday and Dumbledore had surprisingly made the effort to come several times. They assumed he spent most of his summer at Grimmauld Place with the Order. Black Manor had been passed down to Harry, but he refused it. It was too painful to own the house of his dead godfather. In which case, the house was given to Tonks, a cousin of the Blacks, who thus christened it Official Order of the Phoenix Headquarters, or "OOPH" as she fondly called it. Unfortunately this made it more difficult for Harry and his friends to snoop in on meetings, since they were staying at The Burrow. It seemed after these meetings Dumbledore would make his way to The Burrow and spend an hour with Harry on Occlumency and another hour with Hermione. He was curiously determined to have Harry and Hermione master their respective practices. Neither teenagers gave this much of a thought though, since they both were as determined to learn as their Headmaster.

It was common knowledge in the house that Harry was taking his Occlumency, and doing so much more diligently than he had in 5^th year with Snape, but everyone was curious to know what Hermione was doing in that hour with Dumbledore. Hermione refused to tell anyone and she knew she could trust Dumbledore to do the same. What Hermione was doing was learning to control her Sense, under Dumbledore's instruction. After only three sessions she was already able to sit at the dinner table without cracking. Mrs. Weasley assumed that Dumbledore was curing Hermione of whatever ailed her after her accident and making her feel better. Little did she know that Dumbledore was throwing rapid-fire memories at Hermione in an effort to strengthen her mind. It was like building a wall, to protect her own mind from outside assault. The wall was relatively weak at this point, but it was definitely improving. This allowed her to almost "switch" off the Sense at whim.

“You do not know who that boy was?” Dumbledore’s eyes seemed to smile sadly.

Hermione stared at the Pensieve from which Dumbledore had drew the thoughts. “V-Voldemort?”

“Not quite. You were reading the sense I got from a boy named Tom Riddle.”

“But aren’t they the same person?” she asked. "...Sir." Hermione never really felt comfortable alone with her Headmaster. It wasn't that he was threatening in any way, it was just intimidating to know you were in the presence of one of the most powerful wizards of the age.

Dumbledore sighed and put his wand down gingerly. “That, Miss Granger, may now be put up to debate…”

“Right.” Hermione gulped. She had looked briefly into the mind of a young Voldemort. It gave her a dirty feeling, like she had just entered a crack house.

“Would you like to have another go, Miss Granger? You’re progress is very impressive indeed. At this rate you will have no trouble entering the Great Hall this September.” Dumbledore took up his wand again.

“The Great Hall…” Hermione echoed in disbelief. She had completely forgotten she would have to enter a room full of hundreds of students. Hundreds of minds. Of teenagers, no less. “…Professor, do you really think I can?”

“I have confidence in you.” Dumbledore stated plainly. “And really, I can not have my Head Girl afraid to enter the Great Hall. How strange would that be?”

Hermione smiled. Then his last words penetrated her mind and her eyes widened.

“Head Girl? Me?”

“That’s up to you.”

“Wha - oh Professor!” Hermione jumped up and gave Dumbledore a hug. He looked mildly surprised, since he was not hugged too often, but decided to hug her back gently. “I’d love to be Head Girl!”

“It’s settled then.” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled. “I have about fifteen more minutes, would you like another go?”

Hermione nodded determinedly. “Give me your best shot...Sir” she added.

Dumbledore moved his wand in a circle over the Pensieve, causing the liquid inside to rise in a small, swirling vortex. “Venanime!”

A swirl of silver rose above the vortex and wafted directly at a waiting Hermione.

~*~

“Hi Hermione, what are you doing?” Ron bumped into Hermione in the hallway after her and Dumbledore’s session. Ron’s curiosity forced itself into Hermione’s head. She bit her lip for a moment and willed it away, practicing the skill she had just improved upon with Dumbledore. Soon it was gone. She did it. And near effortlessly, at that. She couldn't help but beam proudly in the hallway, as Ron looked on in confusion.

“Hermione? Hello?” Ron waved his hand in her face. Hermione blinked and smiled.

“Oh, nothing. Just came back from Dumbledore."

"What have you two been doing, anyway? I know Harry's got his Occlumency, what do you keep training in there for?" Ron asked. The question had been plaguing him for days, and he had turned asking her into a sort of habit. It also kind of made him feel a little left out. Which he understood was pretty stupid, since private lessons with the Headmaster was very far down on his list of "Cool Things to Do in the Summer". Still, though, his two best friends were obviously preparing for things and, though he intended to be there with them every step of the way, he was prepared for nothing.

"I'm sorry, Ron, but it's really none of your business."

Ron made a face. Then he blinked as if realizing something and blanched at whatever thought he had conjured. Hermione decided to open her mind back up to Ron, out of curiosity. She was not greeted by a pleasant sight.

"Oh my - RON!" Hermione flushed a deep purple at what was going on in the redhead's mind and punched Ron hard in the shoulder. "We are not doing THAT! You SICK little creature!!" She stormed off down the hall, wishing desperately that she could block out the scarring images of what she and Dumbledore were engaging in inside Ron's head. She silently swore to never ever look inside that Weasley's head ever again. "And stop worrying about it, just send your stupid love letter to Luna already!" she yelled over her shoulder as a vindictive afterthought.

Ron watched her go, a bewildered look on his face. His hand shot to the bit of parchment sticking out of his pocket, the letter he was debating whether to owl Luna Lovegood. Harry appeared beside him,

"What happened? Why was Hermione yelling?"

"I'm not sure...Harry, why do you think Hermione sees Dumbledore all the time after your Occlumency lessons?" Ron turned to face him.

"I figured Dumbledore was filling her in on her Head Girl duties or something."

"Oh, she's Head Girl then?" Ron pondered this.

"I haven't been told yet, but honestly who deserves Head Girl more than her?"

"Right, mate." Ron nodded. It made sense. Really, if anything could shake Hermione out of the funk she had been lately, it would be the news that she had been made Head Girl of Hogwarts.

"The news would make her feel better. She has been acting normally. I noticed it started after she started seeing Dumbledore."

Ron nodded thoughtfully. "Loads better. Way better. But...have you noticed she's getting...smart?"

Harry stared at his friend. "Um, Ron? It's Hermione."

"No, I mean...just now..."

"What?"

"Oh, never mind."

~*~

Harry knew Ron was right. He didn't want to confirm whatever he was thinking, but something truly was going on with Hermione. She always was perceptive, but now it was getting odd. She would know who walked into the room without turning around and looking. She always knew who was hogging the bathroom, even though she had just gotten out of bad. She knew what people were going to say before she said it. And she was becoming more isolated. Chats with her that normally could last hours spanned all of five minutes before she started to blush about something and make excuses to leave. It seemed the only person she could talk to normally was Dumbledore himself, and this disturbed Harry. There was something going on with her that she could trust only Dumbledore with, and not him and Ron.

Then again, Harry realized it might be a little hypocritical. Over a year had passed and he still hadn't revealed The Prophecy to anyone, and like Hermione, Dumbledore was the only other person who knew his secret. But it weighed heavily on Harry, knowing that Hermione might be hiding something as serious as his Prophecy. He wanted badly to know what it was; he didn't want Hermione to suffer like he was. But he knew it was a no-go. If he got Hermione to tell him what's going on, it wouldn't be right to hold the same kind of information from her. Harry weighed his options. He sat on Ron's bed for a full fifteen minutes doing so.

"I can't." Harry whispered. "I can't tell her..." He punched the mattress in frustration. If he couldn't overcome whatever was keeping him from telling his friends, then he had no right in forcing Hermione to reveal her secret. Damn the Gryffindor honor. Damn it to hell. He got up angrily and went into the hallway, looking for Ron. Maybe a rousing game of Wizarding Chess would cheer him up. Or a nice Bludger to the head. Suddenly he heard a voice drifting into the Weasley hallway.

"I'm getting loads better at blocking it out. It's so amazing. I can be normal again." Hermione's excited voice said.

Harry contemplated leaving her alone to talk, but his curiosity got the best of him. Who was she talking to, anyway?

"Yes, I know. I will have to some day. They are my friends, they deserve to know. I really do trust them..."

Harry grew hot. He felt guilty again. Which, unknowingst to him, is usually a beacon that completely blows his spot.

But not now.

He approached the door of Ginny's room and knocked on the doorframe. "Hermione?"

There was a clanging noise, as if something was dropped and the sound of fluttering wings. He heard Hermione's soft socks patter against the wood floor and her flustered face poked out of the room.

"Harry! Oh, hi, what are you doing out here?" Hermione was confused. Why hadn't she sensed him coming? She usually knows when someone is getting closer to her because she could feel their emotions getting clearer. And her mental block wasn't up, she had been talking to Hedwig. There was no reason for her not to sense Harry approaching.

Was Harry a Sensor too?

No, of course not. First of all if he had not been sensing Hermione, since she was also a Sensor, he most certainly would have confronted her by now. Second of all, Sensors were very rare. It was already astronomical that two would be living under the Hogwarts roof come September. Something else was amiss.

Harry smiled at her. "So who's in there? Ron?" He took a step towards her, trying to hide the fact that he was extremely jealous that she would tell someone else what was going on before telling him.

"Ah, no..." Excuses raced through her head, each more stupid than the last. There was no way she would be able to explain her talking in a room with an owl this time. Harry stood next to Hermione and peeked in the room. It was empty. Hedwig was gone. Hermione looked surprised and looked around, as puzzled as Harry. She must have flown out the window.

"Oh..." Harry forced a straight face. "Hermione, are you positive you are okay?"

I will not read Harry's mind. I will not read Harry's mind. Hermione repeated over and over in her head. This did not look good.

"Absolutely fantastic. I was just writing a letter and talking out loud as I wrote, is all." Hermione explained lamely. There was not a quill or parchment to be seen.

"Oh..." Harry bit his lip, a newly formed habit. He was genuinely worried now. All doubts about it left his mind. He had to find out what was wrong with Hermione. And to do that, he would have to reveal his own biggest secret. He glanced once again around the empty room were Hermione was talking. There really was no question about it.

"Listen, I've got to tell you something..." Harry gently shut the door, the thought of getting Ron in on it completely escaping him. Hermione looked concerned and resisted the urge to probe his mind and find out in advance what he would say. He put his hand on hers unconsciously. They both stared at their touching hands and instinctively pulled them away, red in the face. Even with her Sense in control, she could not hide from the strange feelings coming from Harry. He sat down on the bed, next to her. Suddenly feeling too close to her, he inched away slightly so their bare knees didn't touch. Why was he acting like this, as if he had never sat next to Hermione before?

It must be nerves. I'm nervous about telling her. Harry convinced himself. He cleared his throat. "Remember in 5th year..."

BANG! BANG! BANG! Someone pounded frantically at the closed door. Hard. The door seemed about to explode into splinters. The two looked at each other.

"Um, sorry Harry, sounds like God is at the door." Hermione got up to let in whoever was banging.

Ron burst in, out of breath, practically tearing the door off its hinges. He didn't even pause to gape at his own strength or realize that he had almost slammed Hermione another head injury.

"There's been an attack!"

7. Confessions

Note: Thank you again for the reviews. Sorry, that must be getting tired. How about you just assume me being thankful is a given, alright? Hehe. Anyway, as someone pointed out, there are some errors that just slip by me without my noticing. Even after I spell-check. Which is why I would like to have one of those beta-reader thingies. I'm not sure exactly how those would work, but I figured I could email you a finished chapter and you correct whatever mistakes I made. Then you email it back and I post it. Sound about right? It might make updates a little longer in between...but I think it would be worth it. If anyone would like to volunteer, that would be awesome! I would also like to point out that I am extremely American and there’s just no helping that. Unless, of course, my beta-reader could help out with that too. Anyway, my email is in my profile. If there are any volunteers please feel free to email me and we can get started as soon as we're both ready! Now, on with the show!

2nd Note: Sorry again. I just didn't one really long note. Um, I wasn't sure if this story deserved an R rating or not. I mean I doubt there will be any hanky-panky in this installment but I am aware that Crookshanks and Ron are a pair of naughty little pottymouths. If you are offended and are horrified that I only rated this PG-13, I will have a talk with those two. But really, if they refuse to clean up their act and there are complaints I will have to up the rating. Thank you. Now you may read.

~*~

The three pounded frantically down the stairs of the Burrow.

"Where? Who?" Harry demanded.

"Dumbledore's brother. Aberforth."

"Aberforth Dumbledore!?" Hermione cried. "How is that possible? Isn't he under protection charms or something? He's Dumbledore's brother for Pete's sake! He's practically wearing a bulls eye on his forehead just for being related to him!"

"I don't know! I'm just telling you what they told me!"

Harry recalled the only two times that he had heard Aberforth Dumbledore's name. The first was with Albus Dumbledore, who told him that Aberforth got in trouble for practicing improper magic on a goat. He also told him it was possible Aberforth did not know how to read the press articles about him. In his 5th year Mad-Eye Moody showed him a picture of the Order of the Phoenix back in the 70s. Aberforth stood with them in the picture and Moody recalled him as being a "strange bloke".

"Well is he alright? Did they...is he...?" Hermione asked.

Ron did not answer. They tumbled into the family room which was eerily empty, except for Ginny, who was sitting by the fire stroking Crookshanks.

"Where'd everybody go?" Ron asked his sister. "About twenty people from the Order were here just a second ago!"

Ginny turned to face them and Hermione was practically knocked over by Ginny's anger. She focused on blocking it. "They LEFT! They all went to bloody GRIMMAULD Place! They didn't want to tell us a damn thing! Mum and Dad left too, along with the twins." She was fuming and didn't notice that she was stroking Crookshanks too hard.

AHH! Bloody fucking hell... Crookshanks clawed away from Ginny and stalked away.

"Crookshanks!" Hermione admonished as he slinked away. No one had the slightest idea that she was yelling at her cat for bad language. Ginny dabbed at her scratch with her sleeve.

"Bloody fucking hell..." Ron unknowingly echoed Crookshanks.

"Ron!" Hermione scolded again. She collapsed on the sofa, then turned to Harry. "What do you think, Harry?"

"I think I shouldn't have given the Order exclusive access to Grimmauld Place, is what I think." Harry muttered and sunk next to her. Since Death Eater activity had been scarce, he hadn't been in any hurry to be inducted into the Order of the Phoenix right after his birthday. He had planned on doing it before his Hogwarts term started, but he regretted his decision now. Ron sat on Hermione's other side. Mrs. Weasley had been adamant in preventing Fred and George's induction into the Order for concern of their safety. When they finally made the cut, she claimed it would be a cold day in Hell before she ever gave up her very last son. And neither Hermione nor Ginny were old enough to join yet. The four sat in silence for a moment feeling somewhat betrayed.

"Aberforth Dumbledore." Ginny thought out loud. "I wonder why we never hear much about him. I mean, he's the brother of the most powerful wizard of the age. You'd think there'd be more press."

"Well...I've heard only a little about him. But from what I've gathered Aberforth is quite odd. And a bit dim." Harry said.

"I don't know much about him either. There's lots on Dumbledore in books, but not his brother." Hermione added unhelpfully. "Though I think I read somewhere he was the younger of the two."

"So basically, we are completely clueless." Harry punched the arm of the sofa angrily. "Don't know why, don't know when, don't know where, and don't know what they are doing about it."

Hermione's thoughts drifted back to Crookshanks. It occurred to her that perhaps Crookshanks heard something from the Order before they left. Crookshanks was a clever cat, but it never occurred to anyone that Crookshanks might actually understand what they were saying. She wanted to ask him some questions, hopefully without having to wash the dirty cat‘s mouth out with soap. "Um, I'll be right back." She started to get up.

"Wait..." Harry grabbed her by the forearm and looked at Ron. He remembered what he was going to say to Hermione before Ron broke the news. And now was even better, since Ron was already here. There wouldn't ever be a better time, especially now that everyone was gone. "I, um, I had something to tell you. Both of you." He cast a significant glance at Ginny.

The younger girl crossed her arms defiantly. "Uh-uh. If you even think that I am going to be left out of something else, I will hex you. I swear I will. Remember my Bat-Bogey hex?"

Harry did. "Okay...Ginny you can stay. Actually Ginny you've been a big help for a while. You're one of us. It's not just me, Ron, and Hermione anymore." Hermione nodded in agreement. Ron looked reluctant to admit it, but he nodded too.

"Damn right. So, go on."

Hermione looked up, very interested. She knew something was bothering Harry since the Ministry fiasco of 5th year, and it wasn't only Sirius's death. She saw it in the way he talked. He talked as if everyone around him was marked for death and he could do nothing about it. He was being overly cautious and protective of his friends. But what startled her the most was not his "saving people thing" as she so eloquently put it over a year ago, but his look of helplessness or even defeat. It was as if Harry knew he could defy evil all he wanted, but in the end...hope didn't seem to be enough to support him.

"I know the Prophecy."

This revelation was met with dead silence.

"The one we found at the Ministry...the one Voldemort wanted."

More silence.

“You know, glass spherical sort of object? The one that held the secret of my fate?”

"Merlin's ghost..." Hermione murmured.

"W-what are you talking about, mate?" Ron stammered. "It broke. Neville dropped it. You said - "

"I know it broke. But someone heard the prophecy. As it was being told years ago..."

"How do you know they're not lying? Just trying to rile you up about...whatever it is?" Hermione asked. She was trying with all her might not to give in to temptation and peek into his head. Her mind was practically bursting with desire, but she resisted.

"Because I trust Dumbledore."

His three friends stared at him. "Dumbledore knows the Prophecy. The one we found in the Ministry. The one that You-Know-Who was after. The one that was about you and You-Know-Who. The one that broke. The one..." Ron seemed to be piecing the story together slowly, so as not to miss anything important.

"Oh for Merlin's sake, Ron, just SAY it. Voldemort!" Ginny rolled her eyes. Ron scowled.

"Ahem. Anyway..." Hermione prodded curiously. In any other circumstance she would have been angry with Harry for keeping this a secret for so long. But she was really in no position to lecture about keeping secrets from friends.

"Right, um, anyway. The prophecy had three important things..." Harry watched as they hung on his every word. "One, the person who had the power to destroy the Dark Lord would be born as the seventh month dies..."

Hermione and Ginny's eyes grew wider in realization. Ron was very carefully counting on his fingers. "May, June, July..." Then he too stared at Harry.

"Yeah. End of July. Like me."

"But that could be any number of people, Harry!" Hermione pointed out hopefully.

"I know, they thought it was Neville at - "

"LONGBOTTOM!?" Ginny looked surprised.

"Yes, but - "

"How do they know - "

"Just LISTEN!" Harry cut Hermione off. She looked slightly put out, but shook it off. The urge to look into Harry's mind was near unbearable now. She needed to be trustworthy. It was obvious that trust would be becoming very important in the near future. "Anyway, the second important part was that the Dark Lord would...would mark the One as his...equal..."

Three sets of eyes flicked up to the famous lightning bolt scar on the forehead of The Boy Who Lived.

"Yeah. And supposedly I have some power that he 'knows not'." Harry continued. His friends didn't have anything brilliant to say, so he went on. "The last part of the prophecy went...it stated...that one of us would die at the hands of the other."

The silence was deafening.

"So either I will kill Voldemort, or he will kill me. That's the way it has to be, and that's the way it's going to be." Harry elaborated.

Still no reaction.

"And also, Voldemort only knows of the first part of the prophecy. About how the one who could destroy him would be born at the end of July. He didn't know he was marking me as his equal...that night."

Just glazed-over stares.

"Okay, not to sound conceited or anything but I honestly thought this would get more of a reaction."

Ron was the first to break the shocked silence. "...Bloody hell, Harry..." he stated lamely.

"That's it?"

"It's just...hard to process..." Ginny mumbled. She cleared her throat. Twice.

Harry's gaze drifted to Hermione, and he was surprised to find her eyes glistening, as if she were about to cry. Pangs of regret started to surface.

"Harry...who gave this prophecy?" Hermione whispered.

"Umm...Professor Trelawny...?"

"Excuse me?" Ginny cried. "That old fraud? Why on earth would Dumbledore believe THAT quack?"

"Because she does tell the truth. Occasionally." Harry said. No one had anything to say to that.

"Harry..." Hermione's tears were becoming very evident now. She bit her lip, which practically tore Harry up inside and he instantly regretted revealing his secret. A secret he had hidden for over a year.

"Hermione, don't cry, I'm sorry - "

Without warning Hermione embraced Harry with all her might. She wrapped her arms around him almost protectively. Her bushy hair tickled his face and he suddenly felt very emotional. He hugged her back, unconsciously. Before he knew it he found Ginny's arms around the both of them, also. Ron stood back and stared.

"Oh, what the hell..." He joined the awkward group hug and it was all Harry could do to hold back the stupid tears that were threatening his masculinity.

After a few silent, yet heartfelt moments Ron pulled away. "Bollocks. That was the corniest thing we have ever done. I need a shower. No, I need to go barbecue some red meat over a campfire. Then piss that fire out when we're done."

Everyone couldn't help but laugh. Ginny released Harry and sat on the floor at his feet, but Hermione lingered for a few moments before letting go. She was smiling at what Ron said, but her face was still red and slightly slick with her tears as she occupied the space right next to Harry.

"Harry, how the hell could you keep that from us?" Ginny demanded sternly, the humor gone from her face. Ron's expression mirrored hers as she stood by the fire with his hands in his pockets.

"I just didn't want anyone to worry - "

"Then you were a big huge git." Ron said. "Idiot."

"Hey." Harry started getting defensive. "The prophecy was about ME. Not you guys. Just me. I'm the one who has to...I have to do it. It has nothing to do with any of you. Just me."

"Oh, bullshit."

Three pairs of eyes turned to stare at the source of the last statement. Hermione wiped her eyes. She just hoped she wasn’t making a fool of herself, she knew she was famous among Harry and Ron for having somewhat random bursts of emotion.

"Hermione?"

"Oh, you heard me, Harry! I don't want to say it again, but what you just said was utter garbage. Nonsense." Hermione said. Ginny looked shocked, but nodded in agreement. Ron still looked kind of dumbfounded to discover that Hermione's mouth was capable of swearing.

"Hermione, the prophecy - "

"To HELL with the damn prophecy!" Hermione cried as she shot off the sofa and stood looking down at him. Ron looked about to faint. "Harry, if you think for a second, a MILLI-second, that Ron and Ginny and Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix and I will not be with you every single step of the way you are the stupidest prat on the planet and you deserve a thousand of Ginny's Bat-Bogey Hexes."

"But you all could just get - "

"Shut UP Harry!" Hermione snapped. Ron and Ginny seemed to fade into the background as it appeared this seemed personal, between only Harry and Hermione. "Don't give me any of your 'saving people thing' crap. You don't think any of us would give our lives to save the world? You actually think everyone intends to have you carry this burden alone? Are you DELUDED enough to assume that you will actually defeat Voldemort ALONE!? I have news for you Harry. I would die to save the world. I would die to save YOU!"

The last part of Hermione's speech was not planned. When she realized what she had said and the possible interpretations behind it, she blushed furiously. Harry blinked.

"Hermione's right. Don't be daft, mate. We've got your back." Ron said, looking back and forth between the two.

"Yeah. I would go on about 'Friends forever, Together forever' but…well, I don't want to." Ginny said, a slow smile spreading on her face.

Harry inspected Hermione's face. She seemed unable to look him in the eyes now. He wanted nothing more than for her to sit back down next to him, for her to be by his side like she always had for as long as he could remember. For him to make her feel better.

Suddenly there was a stumbling noise and they heard the kitchen door swing open. Mundungus Fletcher staggered in, obviously drunk off his rocker. Brown and purple tattered clothing hung off his thin frame and he held a beer in his hand. His eyes looked blankly at the teenagers in front of him and he tossed his bottle back into the kitchen.

"Bloody hell. I was outside having meself a drink and I heard some yellin. Bloody thought you all were being attacked." Mundungus hiccupped. Clearly if they had been being attacked, he would not have been able to do a damn thing about it.

"I thought all of the Order had gone to Grimmauld Place to talk about the attack." Ron said.

Mundungus seemed to ponder this for a moment. "Oh yes, poor Aberforth. Odd man, he is. Umm...ah. I was told to stay here and watch over you lot. You didn't expect them to leave you kids unattended, now did you?" He hiccupped again. The four exchanged looks.

"Well then, if you all aren't being attacked...I'll be outside in the chair enjoying meself. Just yell if you need me. Have a good night." He staggered away to retrieve his bottle.

"They leave us with Dung?" Ron said, shaking his head. "They might as well have left us with Malfoy."

Hermione grinned. When she turned to Harry she was startled to see that Harry was looking at her. He blinked when she caught his eye, but he didn't look away. Instead he smiled nervously. As if he were expecting something. Suddenly, Hermione realized what Harry wanted. She was not dumb, she knew that the entire household was extremely curious as to what her own secret was. But was now the time?

"I, um, I will be right back. I just need to check on Crookshanks..."

8. More Confessions

Once again she had narrowly escaped the temptation to spill her secret. There were so many wrong ways her friends could take it, and she just as not ready for that problem right now. Especially after Aberforth Dumbledore was attacked and Harry revealed the Prophecy. It was all just way too much weirdness for one night. Hermione jogged up the stairs to the room she and Ginny shared, where she figured Crookshanks had taken refuge. She found the ginger cat curled up at the foot of Ginny's bed sleeping.

"Crookshanks?"

“Mreeoowwwrr!” Jeez!

"Sorry. I just wanted to know - "

If I heard anything the grown-ups said before they left? Crookshanks propped himself up lazily and yawned.

"Well, yes. How did you know?" Hermione asked.

I'll be damned if you kids ever just let the grown-ups handle anything. "Nosy little snots, they are." That's what the drunk fellow said.

"Right, well, Mundungus isn't exactly the picture of perfection either."

True. But once or twice he's slipped me some brandy. He's all right in my

book.

"Crookshanks!"

Bloody hell, Hermione. Don't give me any of that proper nonsense. I heard you down there. Cussing like a pissed sailor! My Hermione!

Hermione rolled her eyes and sighed. "Well?"

Well, I think you could have been more creative. Though that first "bullshit" was a kicker. I didn't know you had it in you!

"Not about my cursing, Crookshanks, about Aberforth!" Hermione said exasperatedly. "Did you hear anything?"

Crookshanks cocked his head to face the ceiling, as if he were deep in thought. Well, I got the impression that old Abe was still alive...

"Thank goodness! What makes you think that?"

They said, "He's alive."

"Oh." Hermione bit back a snappish remark. Her cat was being very smart-alecky, rude, even. He was practically an exact reincarnation of Ron Weasley.

And they said that Aberforth was guarding something. That's why he was

attacked.

"Guarding what? Did the Death Eaters get it?" Hermione asked. This was interesting. Even though she had never met the man and heard very little about him, Aberforth Dumbledore was playing an active role in the Order. His job was important enough to make him a target for the Death Eaters and bring them out of hiding.

No clue.

"Do you know where Aberforth was? Or where he is now?"

No.

"Oh." Hermione was disappointed. She hadn't learned much from this conversation. "Do you know anything else?"

Nah. Oh! Wait. Crookshanks casually licked his paw clean, as if they were talking about something as serious as breakfast cereals. Someone said that when they found him, he was babbling Latin things.

"Latin? Well, that's not too strange. Lots of spells are derived from, if not completely from the Latin language."

Not spells - He was speaking clearly and coherently as if he was speaking English. Only he wasn't, and he couldn't understand why people didn't understand a damn thing he was saying.

Hermione stared at her cat.

Yeah, I know. Fuckin' freaky, isn't it?

~*~

When Hermione returned to her friends, she found Ron and Harry engaged in a game of Wizard's Chess while Ginny looked on, waiting to play the winner.

"Hey, Hermione, come watch my knight mutilate Harry's king," Ron gloated as he nudged the chess piece forward. Harry groaned as the king fell in pieces.

"My turn!" Ginny cried gleefully.

Hermione smiled and took a seat. How would she tell them what she had learned from Crookshanks? The time wasn't quite right yet to tell them about her Sense. It was just a gut feeling. She felt Harry's eyes studying her closely, like they always seemed to be recently. Hermione looked up and met his emerald gaze. He quickly looked away.

"So how was Crookshanks?" Harry asked carefully.

"Fine." Change subject for now, change subject. "Did I miss any interesting theories and speculations about Aberforth's attack?"

Harry waved his hand at the two youngest Weasleys who were currently trash-talking each other. "They've just been trying to intimidate each other over the stupid game. Ginny can talk as dirty as Ron, you know."

"Really."

"Hah!" Ginny crowed as one of her pieces destroyed one of Ron's. "You suck, Ronnie!"

Ron scowled. "Yeah, well at least I'm not the one with the Gilderoy Lockhart poster under her bed."

"I DO NOT!" Ginny cried and looked around at Harry and Hermione. Hermione was unable to hide her snicker. Sleeping on the floor of Ginny's room, she had caught several glimpses of the narcissistic pretty boy under her bed. Ron looked empowered.

"Lockhart? Really?" Harry's eyes smiled in a very Dumbledore-like way.

"Well, since we're sharing secrets and all..." Ginny batted her eyes innocently. "You should all probably know...Ron's drawing a comic book series with him as a superhero."

"WHAT!?" All attention to Ginny's secret crush was diverted as they all laughed at Ron's expense. He glared angrily at his sister. "I DO NOT!"

"Then you wouldn't mind if we took a peek into your pillowcase..." Ginny started to get up.

"No!" Ron cried, looking murderous. "All right, okay...it's...just a hobby of mine!"

"His 'hobby' has got a red cape that clashes with his hair and goes by the name of - "

"ANYWAY!" Ron darted to his sister and clamped his hand over her mouth.

"Mmmmlerrrfff" Harry and Hermione were laughing practically in convulsions as Ginny tried to wrestle away from her brother. The problem of how to tell what she learned from Crookshanks was completely pushed from Hermione's mind.

"Oh Ron, leave her alone. We don't care about the Scarlet Mage!" Hermione snickered through her fingers.

The two Weasleys stopped fighting. Ron released Ginny from his headlock and she fell to the floor clumsily. Harry looked curiously at his friends. Ron had turned a bright red and Hermione looked stricken, as if she had just committed some criminal act.

"How did you know he's called the Scarlet Mage?" Ron demanded. Harry and Ginny sat confused and set their gaze on Hermione.

The truth was, last week before Hermione had much practice at controlling her Sense, Ron had been pondering new adventures for the Scarlet Mage at the dinner table. She couldn't help but read his mind, and she had learned all about the Scarlet Mage and his powers, deeds, and...popularity with women. She had done very well in keeping this information to herself, but now she was horrified that she made such a slip.

"I...I came across it when I was straightening your sheets. I went in there to borrow Hedwig..." Hermione glanced at Harry "...and saw some of it sticking out of your pillow."

Ginny grinned. "Did you read about how the Scarlet Mage - "

"Shut it, Gin," Ron growled.

"Oh, was that why you were so flustered the other day when you borrowed Hedwig?" Harry wondered, remembering the day of the "accident" and discovering Hermione's odd behavior.

Hermione nodded. That seemed reasonable. Good old Harry. "Yes."

Ron crinkled his forehead. "Wait...when was this?"

"Last week, that day I fell off the broom."

Ron stared suspiciously at Hermione. "Hold on. That day it wasn't in my pillowcase. Mum was going in there later to clean up my room, so I moved it. It was in my closet."

Hermione recalled seeing how untidy it was in there that day and how she figured Mrs. Weasley hadn't been in there to clean it yet. She cursed herself for making such a fatal mistake. There really was no backtracking without being a blatantly obvious liar, and everyone was already staring at her now. She supposed she had no choice; this was the time.

"Hermione, how did you know about the Scarlet Mage?" Ginny asked slowly.

Hermione looked back at all her friends. They were all expecting a huge revelation, and she knew it. Harry had already worked up the courage to tell them about his secret. It was her turn.

"Okay...I know you all have been...anxious...to know what's been going on with me lately..." Hermione began, still very unsure of where to begin, or how to tell her story. Harry seemed to perk up in interest more than the other two. "Well, after I fell off that broom, when I regained consciousness...I started to hear things."

Everyone knew this was going nowhere good. As Hermione once pointed out in 2nd year, hearing things is never good, even in the wizarding world.

"What things?" Harry asked, dreading the answer. As his best friend, he knew that she could easily be marked as Voldemort's enemy, and he had lots of experience with Voldemort's mind games. He and Ginny both knew what dangerous mental things the Dark Lord was capable of. His mind ran with horrible thoughts of what could possibly be wrong with his friend.

"I think...it was you guys - your thoughts and emotions." Hermione said quietly. There it was. Out in the open, her darkest secret revealed in about ten simple words. She couldn't believe it was that easy to phrase.

Her statement was met with the same silence that greeted Harry's revelation. Harry was taken aback. This was certainly not what he was expecting. "How did - was it the fall? Was it Volde -?"

"No, no. Dumbledore told me I was born with it and it develops around, well, my age."

Ron and Ginny had unreadable expressions on their faces. Clearly none of them had fully expected this. She sensed slight fear from them, even with her mental blocking up. That was the reaction she had been dreading all along. Fear. Fear that her friends would fear her and her Sense - that they would no longer feel comfortable around her and try to avoid her as much as possible. It was what Hermione was afraid of all along. The fear was the curse that came along with this gift. Only Harry had no emotions coming from him. Hermione was still puzzled as to why she never got the slightest feeling from him and, since she couldn't tell, was he afraid too?

"So...are you doing...it...now?" Ginny asked in a tone that sounded almost frightened.

"Oh, no! Of course not! I'm very strict about sensing, now that I can control it. I would never, EVER invade someone's privacy. I swear to you. I would never - "

"But you can," Ron said monotonously.

"What?"

"You can read our minds - whenever you want," Ron repeated in the almost robotic tone that pumped dread into Hermione's mind.

"Yes, but no. Well, yes, but I've been working quite hard to control it. I'm no longer Sensing - that's what its called - at every given moment. I have blockades up in my mind to protect myself from outside emotional assault, and they're getting even stronger! Dumbledore's been helping me. That's what we've been doing, he's - " she paused her rambling for a moment. " - he knows a lot about the Sense." Hermione figured it wasn't her place to tell them Dumbledore was a Sensor as well.

Ginny let out a nervous laugh. "So, so you can just...like, let down the mental block thing and just see what we're thinking?"

"Yes, but I would never - "

"Bullshit," Ron growled angrily. Hermione was shocked at how angry he looked. "You do read people's minds. That's how you knew about my comic, and how you knew about my letter to Luna! You could be reading our bloody minds right NOW, and we wouldn't know!" His words began to rise to a shriek.

"Ron, please, that was before I could control it! You have to trust -

Ron exploded. "For over a whole fucking week you've been probing our minds and looking at all our deep dark secrets, haven't you!? Bossy, nosy little nerd just HAS to know EVERYTHING! EVERYTHING about EVERYBODY!"

Hermione was being hurt now. What hurt even worse though was the unblockable feeling coming from Ron. He was just as hurt, and he felt betrayed, so he reacted with anger. Ginny's fear was unsettling, but nothing compared to Ron's rage.

"NO, Ron, that's not true! I would never - "

"Don't lie, Hermione. You had yourself a pleasant little laugh at everything going on in our heads, didn't you? Bloody thought it was HILARIOUS, didn't you!?"

Hermione was starting to cry now. She couldn't think of anything to say. She was now in physical pain as the barrage of negativity flooded her brain. Her mind went blank as she focused on blocking out all the negative feelings coming from Ron. "No! No, Ron!" She clamped her hands over her ears as if this would mitigate the pain.

"Ron, shut up!" Ginny stood up on trembling legs and wrapped her arms around Hermione's quivering shoulders. "I think you're hurting her!"

"Then she should stay the fuck outside my head!" Ron yelled.

"RON! SHUT THE HELL UP!" Harry roared, speaking for the first time. Ginny was so stunned by his outburst that she released Hermione's shaking form and fell back. Harry took her place and hugged her protectively. "Get the hell out," he whispered threateningly.

Ron stared at Hermione, his best friend shaking and crying on the floor. He swallowed hard, then hurried out of the room and up the stairs with an unreadable expression on his face. Ginny looked back and forth between Ron's retreating shadow and Harry and Hermione. She shot a pained, but apologetic look at Hermione, then went after her brother. "Ron, you insufferable wanker..." Their voices faded as they went upstairs.

"It's okay, Hermione, it's okay." Harry whispered gently into her ear. It killed him to see her hurt like this, it always had. It was as if he never truly knew how much he cared for Hermione until she was in some sort of pain. Then he knew for sure that there was more than just "best friend" type feelings for her there. He couldn't take this any longer. He couldn't take only being allowed to hold her, to comfort her, to embrace her, after she had been hurt. Harry wanted to do this all the time. Not only when she was in pain - all the time. He needed to be allowed to love her. "It's all right. It's okay..."

His breath caused her own tangled hair to tickle against her neck. Her tears were staining the shoulder of his shirt, but he did not seem to care. Hermione sniffled. The pressure was gone. She was alone in her head now. She could no longer Sense anyone's presence. Not even the mind of the one comforting her, hugging her protectively right at that moment. It was his mind that was really the most important to her. She desperately wanted to know the truth about how he felt, but she knew that even if she tried she would get nothing. Something was up with Harry Potter, but she didn't care right now. All Hermione wanted to know was that she truly still had a best friend.

"Harry?"

"Are you all right?"

"Yes, Harry. Thank you."

She felt his shoulders relax, but he still refused to let her go.

"Harry? Aren't you...scared of me?" Hermione's voice trembled as she asked.

Harry finally pulled away and met her gaze. "No, Hermione."

She quickly looked down, afraid to know what was really hidden in those emerald eyes. She could always tell how he was feeling by looking directly into his eyes, even without the Sense, and she feared the truth that was revealed in them.

"You should be. You should be mad. Like Ron."

"Of course not," Harry said gently, holding back his first thought which was "Don't be daft, I am not! I think I love you!"

"Ron hates me."

"No he doesn't. He's just being a stupid prat, and he will come to his senses."

"Ginny is scared of me."

"No she isn't."

"Yes she is! I felt it, Harry. It was so strong that I could sense it even with my block up. She's scared. He's furious." Hermione's brown eyes began to tear up again. Harry would have given anything in the world for her to never have to do that again.

"It's temporary. This is new; They'll come around. You're their friend. Our friend." Harry insisted. It was true. He knew it was.

"You should be scared."

"Stop saying that, Hermione!" Harry grabbed her shoulders. "Look at me. No, LOOK at me!" Hermione still avoided his eyes. "Then read me."

"What?"

"Read me, Sense me. Whatever. Take off that wall or whatever and read my mind. I. Am. Not. Afraid. Of you." Harry shook her shoulders gently. "Come on, if you don't believe me, just bloody Sense me!" He was desperate now - desperate for her to look at him.

"I - I can't."

"You can't? Or you won't? Hermione - "

"Just - just...Leave me alone! I have to - I have to..." Hermione didn't finish her sentence. Instead she pulled away from Harry's grasp and ran up the stairs as fast as her legs could carry her. Harry watched her go and heard the bathroom door slam shut. He suspected she didn't want to go to Ginny's room yet. Harry just stood there, alone in the living room.

Mundungus Fletcher barged into the living room noisily. "Bloody hell you kids yell a lot! Are you SURE there aren't any Death Eaters around here?"

Harry didn't even bother to answer him as he trudged up the stairs, unsure of what he was going to do.

"Hey, Harry! Did you hear what I said? Where is everybody?"

Mundungus's call was answered only by a flutter of snowy white wings in the living room window and the soft pitter-patter of an orange cat slinking out from under the couch.

9. The L-Word

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!!

~*~

Sunlight streamed into Harry’s face, jolting him awake. As soon as he fully regained consciousness, he remembered the previous night. So many things happened. So much happened that Harry prayed that it was all a dream - a very, very bad dream. Harry groaned the usual morning groan and strained to his feet by grabbing Ron‘s bed frame and hoisting his lazy body up. Ron was still asleep, snoring softly. The redhead shifted on his pillow, causing the paper hidden inside to crinkle noisily. It reminded Harry of Hermione and her secret.

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.

Tell him I think he’s a sweetheart. A stupid, reckless sweetheart, but a sweetheart nonetheless.

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?”

Well, Harry, Hermione usually won’t shut up about YOU.

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?”

I think he’s a dork.

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

Oh, for the love of God.

“…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…

About fucking time!

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 ^_^.

10. Annoying Author

.:Annoying Chapter-Author’s-Note:.

Yeah, I know, I hate these thingies too.

Anyway, this fic is not abandoned and no, I did not mean to leave you with that cliffhanger.  Buuuuut…well, I’m going to London for a week.  That means it will be at least a week until I can update.  I wish I could have updated earlier, but my beta-reader is busy and hasn’t had time to review Chapter 10. So hopefully I will get that back within the week so when I get back I can update.  I really don’t want to upload chapters full of errors anymore.  But it is written, as is Chapter 11. 

So, until then I’ll see ya ^_^ and as a peace offering I wrote “Fate”, a one-shot ficlet that I hope you read until I can update this.  And hey, when I get back maybe Ill have learned a few British phrases besides “Bloody Hell!”

Cheers,

Capn

P.S. Just a reminder, I use the Author’s Response thing on the Reviews pages so if you had asked a question or something I probably answered it…

11. Banging Things Back in Place

NOTE: Hello, sorry for the long delay.  I’m back from London (alas, British accent-less) but now begins the frenzy of buying stuff and preparing stuff before college for me AND my beta reader.  I will try to update before I leave for college (Aug. 26) because after that God knows when I will have time to update.  But update I will!!  I hope you enjoy this chapter and please review HONESTLY. 

“NO!” The old man cried.  His long gray hair seemed to frizz in fright at the sight before him.

            At least a half dozen Death Eaters had stormed in, knocking over the old, worn tables and chairs just for sport.  They each wore dark hooded robes and held their wands poised for attack.

            “We know you have it.  Give it to us and you won’t get hurt.” a deep rumbling voice echoed from beneath one of the Death Eater’s hoods. 

            “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about!” the thin gray man stammered.  His hands were clasped firmly beneath the counter, searching for his old battered wand. 

            “If you even twitch that wand of yours, your ass will be blown a mile away from the remains of your body.“ the voice threatened.  The old man staggered back.

            “You don’t know what you’re doing.” he cried.

            “How about, ‘Fuck you, you old geezer’?” a Death Eater sneered. “ACCIO SANGREAL!” 

            The floor literally burst open like a huge monster had burst free from beneath the moldy floor boards.  Dust and splinters flew in every direction, making it impossible to see what had come up from beneath their feet.

            Even more startling than the sudden explosion was the sudden burst of light.  The white light seemed to release an icy chill over the gaping hole in the floor.  Frost began to form on the old man’s beard and a thundering voice echoed throughout the structure and seemed to reverberate through their very bodies.

            “HIC EGO NON MANEBO!  DORMIAM UBI IMPETUS MALORUM EST BONORUM IN FINITUM BELLUM CONVENENT.  SOLI ME LOCARE POSSET!”

            The lone source of light as bright as the noon sun levitated in the center of the room, paralyzing everyone in fear and confusion.  The Death Eaters seemed thunderstruck.  Some sort of power emanating from the object appeared to be holding everyone in their place.  Finally the old man stared up at the light and spoke monotonously.

            “Age.  Locabunt te.”

            Unlike its explosive entry, the bright, glowing object disappeared from sight without so much as a ‘poof’.

            Immediately after the strange object’s disappearance there was distinct “pop” and another old wizard stepped before the stunned gathering.  He raised his own wand at the Death Eaters. 

            “Albus Dumbledore!” one Death Eater murmured in shock.  The rest of his crew shuddered at having their ability to move regained.

            “You tell Tom that this mission was a waste of time.  We don’t need things to get nasty right now.” Dumbledore said calmly. 

            “Like Hell we will!” A feminine-voiced Death Eater cried.  Voldemort’s intolerance of failure was well-known to all. “AVADA KEDAVRA!”

            Her bright green curse streaked towards Dumbledore and he deflected it as if she had just tossed a pebble in his direction.

            “Reducto!” another voice cried.  Before long dozens of curses and hexes were flying through the air.  Dumbledore expertly blocked them and sent some streaking back at them with an awe-inspiring speed that rivaled that of a bored toddler.  Tables exploded into splintery bits and chairs were flung wildly into the walls, all leaving Dumbledore unscathed.  Behind him, a wall cracked, causing a beam to topple over.

            The old gray man, too slow to save himself, was crushed underneath the old wooden pillar.

            “Avada Kedav - “

            “Silencio!” Dumbledore yelled.  The Death Eater mouthed silently, but a faded green beam of light struck the fallen old man square in the face, which was the only part of him visible underneath the pillar.

            “INFERNOS!” Dumbledore roared.  To the Death Eaters’ horror, the entire building caught ablaze and came alive with the dancing orange flames.

            “Retreat!” a Death Eater cried giddily.  “Go, go, go, GO!”

            “But the Dark Lord - “

            “Fuck that!  It’s not his ass getting barbecued!” the Death Eaters bolted from the burning building and apparated from the streets just as a band of Aurors arrived at the scene.  Dumbledore calmly levitated the fallen beam and picked the old man up gingerly.  Without a trace, Dumbledore and the strange old man were gone.

            The Aurors rushed into the burning building only to find nothing recognizable but a smoldering wooden sign.  It displayed the picture of a pig‘s severed head above the heavy lettered inscription “The Hog’s Head”.

~*~

            Harry gasped and shot up from the ground, nearly knocking Hermione off her knees.

            “HARRY!”  Hermione cried, enveloping Harry’s hyperventilating body in a fierce hug.  She let him go and stared at him.  “What happened?”

            “I saw him!” Harry cried, mindlessly pushing Hermione away.

            “Who?  What did you see, Harry?!”

            “Aberforth Dumbledore.”  He looked up at Hermione.  “I saw his attack.  I saw what Voldemort was after.”

~*~

            Ron groaned, swung his long legs over his bed and planted his bare feet on the floor.  Rubbing his eyes, it took him a while before he realized he was alone, hungry, and awake way too early in the morning.  The first of which concerned him the most.  Harry’s blankets were wrinkled and tossed aside haphazardly.  It was then that the events of the previous night rushed back to him and he felt something that was becoming all too common with him. 

            Regret.

            Last night was a stressful time for all of them, and Ron was never known to keep his temper under control or make the best decisions when he was going through too much.  He was known for making cheap personal attacks he didn’t really mean when he was angry.

            Hermione’s Sense still bothered him though, and he knew it always would.  It made things different somehow, no matter how much he trusted Hermione.  Harry’s secret had changed things too.  It seemed like he was the only one without some dark secret, aside from his tentative comic series.  He felt like a third wheel.

            Yet driving them away and being an angry prat would be no help whatsoever, so Ron decided the logical thing to do would be to make up.  It’s not like he wanted to be burdened with something like those two, anyway.  And it’s not like they had something in common.  The Sense and the Prophecy…completely unrelated.  There was really no reason for the two of them to leave him out of anything.  No reason for him to have overreacted.  No reason he shouldn’t apologize…

            He nodded to himself, convinced that his thoughts were reasonable.  Figuring Harry had woken up early to get some breakfast, Ron dragged himself out of his room and went to Ginny’s, where he planned on apologizing to Hermione first.  He was surprised to find Hermione’s things still rolled up and tucked away.  Had she woken up early too?

            Ron made his way down the stairs and found Mundungus still seated in his kitchen, handling a new bottle of what looked suspiciously alcoholic.

            “Dung, the sun’s barely up.”  Ron said.

            “I’m seizing the day. Sue me.”  Mundungus replied and took a defiant swig.  Ron rolled his eyes.

            “D’you know where Harry or Hermione is?”

            Mundungus shrugged.  “Out there somewhere.  Harry said something about fresh air.”  He pointed at the kitchen door.

            “Both of them?”

            Mundungus shrugged again.

            Both outside?  Before everyone was awake?  Without him?

            Ron pulled open the door and scanned the backyard for his friends.   Nothing could be seen except a scattering of lawn gnomes, sitting in the garden like uprooted potatoes.  All of them seemed distracted from their sneaking around to look at something around the corner of the house.  Following their line of vision, Ron saw Crookshanks sitting precariously on his haunches peeking around the corner as well.

            Curious as to what every living thing in the backyard was looking at, Ron quietly crept up behind Crookshanks.  He stopped in his tracks when he heard them.  A wet noise.

            “Harry, stop…mmm…stop kissing me!”

            “Hermione, I’m trying to get you to calm down.  We have to think calmly first, then - “

            Ron nearly fell over in a faint.

            “HSSSSS!!!” Crookshanks hissed, shooting away between Ron’s legs and back inside the house.  Ron didn’t hear the orange cat’s warning.

            Code Red!  Code Red!  The Scarlet Mage has landed!

            Hermione looked up, startled.  “Scarlet wha - ?“ she caught Ron’s shocked expression staring back at her.  Harry turned and felt his stomach drop.  He and Hermione were currently in what one would call a “compromising position”.

            “What…the bloody fuck…is going on?” Ron said slowly and calmly, resisting the very strong urge to grab them both by their ears and twist them while pulling Harry and Hermione away from each other.

            “I, well, Ron, quite a few things, actually…” Harry stammered.  “Um, I j-just had - “

            “A satisfyingly steamy and passionate snog with Hermione?” Ron supplied, still in the eerily calm tone.

            “Ron, no we -”

            “Accidentally tripped on rocks spaced conveniently enough so that you would land on each other’s lips and your tongues were forced by impact to -”

            “Ron!” Hermione cried.  “Ron, listen, we have to talk.  There’s so much we have to tell you.  Come on, let‘s go find some chairs - ”

            “I don’t want to hear it!” Ron finally cracked, his eyes bulging and his face a deep purple.  His anger was so palpable it could have been a fourth person standing amongst them.  “You guys just keep your damn secrets!  I don’t fucking care anymore!”  He stormed back into the house the same way he had stormed up the stairs the previous night.

            He didn‘t have a place with them anymore, that much was obvious.

~*~

            Tears had collected in Hermione’s eyes.  Harry wrapped a protective around her shoulder.

            “He’ll come around.  He always does…” Harry said, almost trying to convince himself more so than Hermione.

            “Yes, Harry, I think so too.  But we need to help him come around.”

            “How?”

            “Don’t you see?” Hermione looked at Harry.  “He feels left out!”

            Harry stared at her. “Left out of what??  Having a deep dark secret that eats you from the inside until you go insane!?  He wants one!?  He can have mine; I sure as hell don’t want it!”  Harry was getting angry now.  This was just like Ron, him and his self-assumed inferiority.  He remembered when Ron had turned so quickly against him when his name had turned up mysteriously in the Goblet of Fire in fourth year.  Ron’s inferiority complex was truly getting tiresome.

            “You have to understand, Harry, he feels like he’s not as important or helpful as the two of us.  My Sense could be very useful and well, you’re going to save the world - “

            “Or die trying, thereby plunging the world into an evil eternal darkness - “

            “You’re going to save the world.”  Hermione repeated firmly.  “He doesn’t have any special sort of thing like that.  Believe it or not, Harry, it gives us a bond.  He feels like he’s out of that bond.”

            “That’s stupid.”

            “Remember in fifth year when you were furious at Ron and me when you met us at Grimmauld Place because you were being left out of the news while Ron and I were being more informed?”

            Harry did.  Maybe Hermione had a point.  He did feel left out.

            “Okay, so what are we supposed to do?”

            “Same thing we did with you back then.”

            Harry gave her a puzzled look.  Hermione sighed.

            “We tell him everything we know.  Everything we could possibly tell him about your vision.  He’ll feel like he belongs with us again.”

            “We were going to do that anyway!”

            “He didn’t know that!  All he saw was us…kissing.  It was another secret he wasn’t in on.”

            Harry nodded thoughtfully.  “All right then, let‘s go.”

            “Wait.” Hermione grabbed Harry’s arm and planted a firm kiss on Harry’s lips.  Then she looked contemplative.

            “What?”

            “Nothing, it’s just weird how much I enjoy that…” With that she turned the corner into the house.  Harry watched her departing figure from behind before following.

~*~

            Ron stomped into the kitchen, banging the kitchen door shut.  Crookshanks hissed angrily at him.

            “Shut the hell up, stupid cat.”

            Go screw yourself, you bumbling idiot.

            Ron sat at the table and slammed down a bowl.  He grabbed a box of cereal and slammed it next to the bowl.  He repeated this process with the spoon and the milk.

            “Bloody hell, what’s with you?” Mundungus asked. 

            “Nothing.” Ron growled, sitting in the chair and scooting it in roughly closer to the table.

            “That’s bollocks.  You tell your Uncle Dung what’s going on, I’m listening.”

            Ron stared incredulously at their “protector”.  “Are you kidding me, you’re pissed of your rocker.”

            “Nonsense, why I - “ a pop and crackle interrupted him.

            “MUNDUNGUS!” a voice that sounded like Mrs. Weasley called from the fireplace in the living room.

            “Coming!”  Mundungus yelled back hastily.  He pulled a small intoxication potion from his robes and swallowed it all in one gulp before making his way to the living room fireplace.

            Ron ignored what just happened and continued slamming himself his breakfast.  He ignored Crookshanks’s angry hisses and his mother’s voice talking to Mundungus in the other room.  He ignored the sound of the door opening and Hermione calling his name.

            “Ron?”

            He made a point of crunching his cereal louder.

            “Ron, please…”

            Harry appeared behind Hermione and gently brushed past her.  He stepped straight towards Ron, and pulled the spoon right out of his mouth.  Then he swept Ron’s bowl away, not caring that its contents had spilled a little.

            “What the hell do you think you’re doing??”

            Harry grabbed the back of Ron’s chair and swerved it sharply so that Ron almost fell out. 

            “Hey!”

            Then Harry grabbed another chair and turned it facing Ron.  He sat before his friend and crossed his arms brusquely.

            “Harry, what the hell is your problem!?  I’m the one who should be angry, you git!”

            I will never get over how stupid humans are.  Dominant race my ass.  Why if cats had opposable thumbs -

            Hermione silently ushered her grumpy cat out of the kitchen.  She didn’t want to interrupt the exchange that was going to happen between her friends.  She wasn’t sure why, but she felt it was Harry who should handle this.

            “You tell me.” Harry said.

            “Or hey, you can just go fuck yourself.”  Ron suggested before making a move to leave.   Harry roughly grabbed him and sat him back down.

            “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Ron mocked.  “I’m taller and bigger than you are.  I can send you to St. Mungo’s with my thumb, neither of us have our wands.  Don’t think I won’t hurt you in front of your girlfriend.”  He said he last word with a disgusted sneer. 

            “What’s making you so mad?” Harry asked calmly.

            Hermione was proud at how maturely Harry was handling this.  Ron had to acknowledge the problem himself before they could work their way around it.

            “Fuck you.”

            “No, Ron, neither I nor Hermione want you mad.  Why the hell are you so mad at us?”

            “There you go again, trying to be the fucking ‘bigger man’.  Listen, you pompous ass, I don’t give a fuck if you want to be all righteous, I will still break your nose.”

            “Then do it!”  Harry dared.  Ron just glared.  “No?  Alright then now that you’ve got your threats out, we’re going to make you our friend again.”

            “I don’t need your pity, Potter.”

            Now this stung.  Ron had never called him by his surname before.  That was a courtesy reserved only for Malfoy or an angry professor.

            “Are you mad at me and Hermione being together?”

            Ron flinched.  There it was, out in the open.  Hermione, sitting a few feet away by door, felt odd.  It was weird when it was being told to someone else. She wasn’t completely used to it yet and a simple statement like that was just…strange.

            It was very clear that he wasn’t going anywhere, so Ron had no choice to at least humor Harry.

            “No.” he said truthfully.

            “Are you afraid of Hermione?”

            Ron squirmed uneasily, just as Hermione did the same. 

            “Why don’t you just ask her?  She would know.”  he glanced at Hermione.  He knew he was speaking utter bullshit, but he needed confirmation.  Hermione’s evident uneasiness was answer enough.  She didn’t know yet.  She wasn’t Sensing.

            “You know that’s not true.”  Harry stated plainly.  “Do you not trust her?”

            Ron glared at him, and then turned back to Hermione.  She was twiddling her thumbs nervously and couldn’t look into Ron’s scrutinizing eyes for too long.  She looked away shamefully.

            Yet Ron knew Hermione.  How she never revealed anyone’s secret.  She knew that Harry and Ron broke millions of rules in their Hogwarts career, yet she never told anyone.  She never told anyone about how Hagrid had a dragon’s egg in first year, or how he was harboring Grawp the Giant as a fugitive in the Forbidden Forest in fifth.  Third year she knew Professor Lupin was a werewolf, but respected his privacy. 

            Then again, also in third year she had revealed the secret of Harry’s mysterious Firebolt and had it confiscated.

            …Which was of course done for Harry’s safety.  It figures, the only time she wouldn’t keep a secret was when Harry was in danger.  How had their connection not been evident to him or anyone else as early as third year?  It reminded him of something he had heard his father tell Charlie once, “Sometimes the heart knows before the brain has a clue.”

            Anyway, now that Harry was forcing him to think about it, there was really no one more trustworthy than Hermione.

            “You trust her, don’t you?” Harry asked.

            “Bloody hell, Harry…”

            “Are you just feeling left out?”

            Ron jerked back in surprise.  Harry had just more or less hit the nail on the head.  This made him angry.

            “If you fucking know everything why the hell are you asking me so many fucking questions?”  he demanded.

            “Because you need to say it yourself.”  Hermione spoke for the first time.  She walked over to them and started unconsciously to take a seat in Harry’s lap.  She stopped in mid-sit and thought against it.  She pulled up another chair and sat there instead.  Harry looked slightly disappointed and Ron raised an eyebrow.

            “You can’t even tell when you do it, can you?” Ron rubbed his forehead and his friends looked curiously at him.  “You’re doing it right now, being all psychiatrist-like and stuff.”

            “Doing what?” Harry asked.

            “Leaving me out.”

            “You idiot, we wouldn’t have to do this if you weren’t such a prat!”

            “Well bloody hell, how would you like it if you knew everyone but you would have an important part in this war.  How the hell would you feel if you felt like you were just an unspecial nobody with super-power friends??”

            “Ron, how many bloody times do I have to tell you I didn’t want this?”

            “Doesn’t matter, it doesn’t change the fact that you have it.  You’re going to save the world and you…” he turned to Hermione “You’re going to help everyone out with that Sense of yours.  And the fact that you know bloody everything in the world isn’t exactly a kick in the balls either.”

            “Ron - “  Hermione started.

            “No, I know it’s a burden to you guys.  Well boo-hoo, you’ve got each other now.”  Ron took a deep breath.  “You guys don’t need me anymore.   I’m just the stupid extra in this whacked out movie.”

            “Since when do you have a working knowledge of Muggle movies?” Harry wondered.  Hermione slapped him for going off subject.

            “Look, why were you kissing Hermione earlier?”  Ron asked, surprised at his own daring.

            “I l-like her.”

            “Why?”

            Harry thought for a moment.  “She makes me a better person.  She helps me do things I can‘t do alone.  She makes me more than just who I am and what I‘m supposed to be.”  Hermione blushed.

            “And I don’t do that?” Ron asked.

            “Ron, please - “ Hermione began, but Harry silenced her.

            “No you don’t.”

            There was an awkward silence. 

            “You make me who I want to be.”

            Ron stared at him.  “What the hell does that mean?”

            “It means that you keep me grounded, you idiot.”  Harry said exasperatedly.  “You’re my best friend, I play cards with you, hang out with you, I suck at chess with you.  You are the life I WANT to have.  Without you I’d…”

            “Crack and go insane.” Hermione supplied.

            “R-right.”  Harry swallowed hard and begged himself not to act like some weepy girl.

            Ron was fighting a similar battle.  “You can do that with Hermione.”  he pointed out.

            “No he can’t.”

            “No I can’t”

            They said this together.  Ron sighed.

            “Why not?”

            “Because you’re my best friend.  You can’t replace a best friend, not even with a girlfriend.”  Harry started getting anxious over how dramatic this was getting.  “And no one can replace you, not even Hermione.  Forget what I said before, it‘s not because you‘re just my best friend.  It‘s because you‘re RON.”

            Ron stared.

            “Listen, don’t fricken make me say it.  I’m not going to say I love you or anything.”  Harry said adamantly.

            “R-right…”

            “So…”

            “So…”

            Hermione looked back and forth between the two boys, the tears already starting to fall.

            “W-we’re okay, then?” Harry asked tentatively.

            “Um, I think…yeah…”

            “Cool.”  Unsure of what to do, Harry reached out his hand.  Ron took it and they shook them.

            “Listen Harry, I’m sor - “

            “Never mind.  Forget about it.”  Harry assured him.  He grinned.  Ron did the same.   Hermione sniffled loudly and wiped at her eyes with her pajama sleeve.

            “Bloody hell, there’s nothing to cry about!” Ron said to her.  “We’re cool.  All three of us.”

            Hermione shot out of her chair and gave Ron a nice hard squeeze.

            Ron looked awkwardly at her bushy hair, then back at Harry.  Harry snickered, but Ron put a look on his face that said “Good luck, you’re the one going out with her.”

            Harry laughed and Hermione released Ron.  “What?”

            “Nothing.”

            “Here.”  Ron picked Hermione up off her feet.

            “Hey!”

            He walked over to Harry and plopped her on his lap.  “That’s better.  You don’t need to hide anything from me.”  As an after thought he added, “Please.”

            They both nodded and gave each other a chaste kiss.  Then they looked up at Ron, to see his reaction.  He made a face.

            “If that’s how you guys will be snogging all the time, you’re going to need therapy.”