Harry entered Hermione's room with slight trepidation. Three days she'd been awake. Three days he'd spent holding her, talking to her, going over assignments with her. Three days since she'd been in the foulest, most cross mood she'd been in since the day they'd met. She was okay when Harry was kissing her-that at least prevented her from talking, but the rest of the time…. Ron had shared quietly that she was in a mood that rivaled Harry's own from two summers ago. Harry hadn't found the comment comforting.
And today was no exception.
"Hermione… this potion's all messed up… it's not supposed to be green. You must have told me something wrong."
"You obviously didn't follow my directions, Ron. It's two cups of gill weed and one cup salamander eyes."
"I can count, you know!"
"Well, it says here that the potion is very delicate, even the slightest error in measurement can lead to the destruction of…"
"I told you, I didn't mess it up!"
"Well, how else do you explain the green colour?"
"You told me something wrong!"
"Hey guys!" Harry greeted cheerfully.
Hermione's eyes narrowed at the sight of him. "Where have you been?"
Harry shrugged, not yet willing to share the news of the interview. She held out a hand for him, and he went to her, sitting down on the bed next to her. "How are you feeling?"
"Same as ever," she said crossly. "Absolutely fine. Madam Pomfrey still won't let me leave."
"I think she's right, we don't know what kind of lasting side effects you could be having."
"Oh, Harry," she replied, annoyed. "Give it a rest. I'm perfectly fine. I don't know how much longer I can stay in here-it'll drive me insane."
"You're just afraid of falling behind!" Ron piped up, from behind his cauldron.
"Well, with you helping me, I am falling behind!"
Certain of another impending argument, Harry placed a comforting hand on her arm. "Okay," he said softly. "Let's get you out of here."
Hermione's eyes widened slightly. "Wh… what?" she stuttered.
"Let's get you out of here," he said again. "I, honestly, don't know how much more of this I can take. Clearly this hospital room is making you grumpy. Or you're in a constant state of PMS… I haven't figured it out yet."
Hermione stared at him. "PMS?" she demanded, her voice shrill
Harry, who'd only said it as a joke, looked at her a little more fearfully. "Well, it seemed err… funny…"
To his surprise, Hermione started laughing. She leaned her head on his shoulder. "It is kind of funny…"
Now she was having mood swings. Harry looked at Ron, amused, but his red-haired friend seemed to be trying to look anywhere but at them. Harry rubbed Hermione's back absentmindedly. "I mean it, Hermione. Let's get out of here."
Hermione blinked. "But… but… Madam Pomfrey…"
"Will be hopping mad at me when she finds out," Harry replied with a grin. "Let's write her a note and leave it on your pillow. That should give her a small heart attack."
Ron looked up, suddenly interested. "Wicked! Can I write it?"
Harry nodded. "C'mon, Hermione. We have to do it now. Classes are just about to be out for the day. Can you walk?"
"I think so…" she said uncertainly. Harry seized one of her arms, helping her to her feet. She rocked a little, letting out a small. "Oh!" Harry winced as she gripped one of his arms. "Okay, I can do this."
Yelping suddenly in pain, Hermione grasped at her stomach. Harry watched her with wide eyes. "Oh no!" he moaned. "It is PMS…"
Hermione tottered dangerously on her feet, and Harry wrapped an arm around her waist to keep her up. She leaned against him, breathing heavily. "Don't be daft, Harry," she replied, out of breath. "This is where she hit me with…"
"Oh," Harry answered quickly, feeling stupid. "If you're in pain maybe we shouldn't…"
"No," she said, resolutely. "I need to get out of here."
Ron finished the note and left it on the pillow. He grasped Hermione's other elbow and the two boys helped her along.
"I don't need your help!" she yelled.
"Okay," Harry responded, not letting go of her.
"I'm fine!"
"Okay," he said again, hoping very hard that she wouldn't curse him or something.
Breathing hard, the three managed to make it to the Gryffindor staircase without being seen. Ron looked around fearfully, letting go of Hermione as he did so. She tottered dangerously, leaning her full weight on Harry. Harry winced but held on.
"Ron!" Harry hissed.
Ron's eyes were widening. "Oh, I don't like this… I don't like this at all…"
"Neither," Harry gasped, as Hermione ushered him along. "Do I… help me out, will you?"
Ron continued to look around fearfully. "Peeves!" he whispered frantically. "I can hear him coming!"
Harry's eyes widened. "Go distract him or something, then!"
"Er, right…. How?"
"Ron, you're a bright wizard, FIGURE IT OUT!" Hermione yelled, her voice taking on a frustrated strain.
"I dunno, Ron," Harry said, slightly more gently. "Tell him Umbridge is back or something."
"Ooohhh… that's good… that's really good…"
Ron hurried off, and Hermione's grip on Harry's arm tightened painfully. "Don't just stand there!" she wailed, "We have to get out of here!"
Harry grit his teeth, practically carrying her up each step. "You…" he said between breaths, beginning to sweat slightly. "Have… to… help… me… out…"
"Famous Quidditch player like you," she responded nastily. "I would have thought you could take it."
Harry decided to concentrate on moving, talking was too difficult. Unfortunately, Hermione had no such compunction.
"Hurry up!" she moaned. "We'll never make it… then I'll be in trouble… and I'm already far enough behind…"
"Hermione. Shut. Up."
"Harry, you know, you've been nothing but nasty to me since we started going out. I don't really appreciate it. It certainly does not give you a right to…"
Harry tuned her out, too exhausted to get properly worked up over it. At long last he reached the Gryffindor common room, gasping, sweating, and needing a desperate breath of clean air. He deposited her in the nearest possible chair before falling to the floor. He rolled over on to his back, staring up at the ceiling and concentrating on his breathing.
Hermione sniffed lightly. "Ewww… you're all sweaty…."
Oh, bloody hell.
Harry decided he couldn't take it anymore. Climbing up on his hands and knees, he crawled towards her, a dark look glinting in his eyes.
She knew immediately what he was doing. "No! No way!" she said, holding out a hand to stop him. "You're all disgusting and… and…."
"And what?" he asked softly, getting up.
"Well… you… you…" Apparently not quite sure what he was, Hermione trailed off and glared at him instead.
Harry sent her a disarming grin. "C'mon," he needled. "You think I'm attractive when I'm sweaty…"
"I most certainly do not!"
He reached her chair and continued to grin down at her. "You do… you think I'm attractive…"
"I don't!" she yelped.
"Well, I think you're attractive. Even when you're grumpy, mean and spiteful."
"I am NOT spiteful!" she paused to think about it. "OR GRUMPY!"
"You just keep getting cuter…"
"Shut your mouth, Potter."
"Make me."
"FINE!"
Then he was kissing her, and thank God, because that meant she couldn't talk. And kissing Hermione could never be bad because it was Hermione, and, Oh Merlin, did she just slip her tongue into his mouth? Despite her earlier protests, she pulled him closer, and he fell on her, balancing precariously on the armchair. Her tongue was most definitely tracing his own and he felt slightly dizzy, hyper aware of her hands traveling down his back.
She moaned slightly, making Harry feel slightly superior. "You… are… one hell… of a kisser…" she whispered breathlessly against his mouth.
Harry, feeling like any kind of thought at this point would be completely useless, was inclined to disagree--she was an excellent kisser. She shifted underneath him, and it drove him crazy, so he deepened the kiss, pressing himself tighter against her until he could feel every part of her pressing against him.
He was suddenly swamped with a feeling so powerful that he nearly fell right out of the chair. His eyes flew open and he pulled sharply away from her. He stared at her in incomprehension, wondering why it had taken him so damn long to realize. Because this wasn't a new feeling… he'd felt this way for a long time… even if he couldn't pinpoint exactly when it started.
She stared at him, her eyes meeting his. "Harry…" she whispered. "What is it?"
"Hermione," he gulped. "I lo-"
The door to the common room opened and slammed and Hermione yelped, pushing him off her. He landed in a heap on the floor, slightly dazed, and feeling very empty. He looked up to find Ron glowering down at him.
Harry swallowed, sitting up. "Hey Ron…" he said hesitantly. "How's Peeves?"
Ron's eyes ticked from him, to Hermione sitting breathlessly in the armchair, and back to Harry again. "I'm not stupid, you know."
Harry blinked innocently. "Oh? I never thought that you were…"
"You have lipstick on your mouth," he said bluntly.
Harry felt his face heating up. "Ron, don't get upset over this or anything, but… Hermione and I do kiss on occasion… it's sort of part of why we're together in the first place…"
Ron turned on his heel and stalked out of the room. Harry watched him go helplessly.
Hermione frowned. "Oh, that was nice and subtle, Harry."
Harry banged his head wearily against the floor. "At least," he mumbled, against it. "Things can't get any worse." There was a moment of silence when Harry truly let himself believe that he was right.
Hermione stomped painfully on his hand, and said in a hushed voice. "They just did."
Harry rolled over and froze at the sound of Professor McGonagall's angry voice. "Potter, what do you think you're doing?"
Harry's eyes widened and he wiped his mouth with his sleeve, praying that the lipstick marks would go away. Since when had Hermione started wearing lipstick, anyway?
"Professor," he stuttered. "Erm… there is a very good explanation for this…erm… let's see…"
Hermione was glaring at him. Harry couldn't really blame her. "Professor," she said in her cool, calm voice. "This isn't Harry's fault. I was going crazy down in the hospital wing… and I persuaded him and Ron to help me up here. One more minute lying in that bed and I think I would have killed someone. Harry can tell you, I wasn't in a very good mood."
McGonagall fixed her piercing stare on Harry. "Well, she wasn't…" he said nervously. "And I didn't think it was very good for her to be shut up in there and she said she was fine, so with a little help we managed to get her up here…"
Hermione nodded eagerly. "I feel much better now."
Professor McGonagall's mouth drew into a tight line. "I can see that."
Harry flushed. Hermione, on the other hand, didn't so much as blink.
"Please don't make me go back down there, Professor," she begged. "I know we shouldn't have, but I was sort of hoping that if I managed to get all the way up here you would be more apt to let me stay."
"We have no way of preventing another attack. The spell put on your room in the hospital was very complicated and nearly impossible to replicate…"
"Not a problem," Harry answered quickly. "After tomorrow, I think Hermione'll be okay."
Hermione and McGonagall both shot him piercing looks. Harry squirmed uncomfortably. "Oh?" Professor McGonagall said icily. "And just how do you plan on protecting her until then?"
"Well… I'll stay with her at all times. Library, Great Hall, wherever…"
"Harry, I don't need a shadow!" Hermione protested angrily. "I'm more than capable of taking care of myself!"
"And when she goes up to her dorm room, Potter?" McGonagall snapped. "Surely you don't plan on following her there, do you?"
"Is that an invitation?" Harry asked, trying to sound innocent. "Professor?" he added, quickly.
Hermione gasped. "Harry!"
To Harry's intense relief, Professor McGonagall actually smiled. "I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that, Potter." She considered him with narrowed eyes. "Fine, I'll trust that you'll bring Miss Granger back to the infirmary at the slightest indication that she is not feeling well."
Harry nodded, hardly daring or believing his luck. When Professor McGonagall left, he was still staring somewhat blankly at the spot she had just vacated. Hermione smacked him lightly in the back of the head, and he turned around scowling.
"What?"
She frowned at him. "That was a stupid comment that you made."
Harry sighed, feeling slightly hurt. "I know."
She continued to watch him with an accusatory glare. "You are not coming up to my dorm room."
"I wouldn't dream of it, okay? Plus, I can't. Boys aren't allowed in the girls' dorms."
Harry wished that she would start being a little bit nicer, because having Hermione in a bad mood was exhausting work. He was already tired enough, as he hadn't slept properly in almost two weeks. He stretched out on the floor of the common room, yawning largely. He closed his eyes, his eyelids feeling heavy.
Harry heard Hermione moving around, but he didn't want to look at her because he was afraid she would start yelling at him again. He gave a start of surprise when he felt her arm on his elbow. He opened his eyes to find her staring down at him, looking sad. He licked his lips, his mouth suddenly very dry.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
Harry stared at her stupidly, suddenly having a hard time remembering what she was apologizing for. "You're… what?"
Hermione's eyes welled with tears. "I've been so… mean and horrible the last few days!" she wailed. "You've been so patient and understanding… and oh, Harry… I'm sorry!"
"Oh, well…" Harry said awkwardly, hating it when she cried. "I mean… I've been in worse moods." Hermione's eyes glistened and Harry reached for her hand. "Really, it's fine. I don't mind. I'm just glad that you're here to be mean to me."
Hermione sniffled. "That was so sweet."
Harry's head started pounding. He hadn't been trying to be "sweet," he'd honestly only been telling the truth. Girls… it was like they made stuff up when there wasn't anything to make up. It made him even more tired.
Hermione leaned down and kissed him hesitantly. Harry tugged her down on top of him, his hands running down her back. Having her surround him so completely made him dizzy, and the same feeling that he'd felt before returned. He felt warmed throughout his body, until his hands and feet tingled. When she pulled away, her face remained hovered inches from his, her brown eyes staring deeply into his.
Harry swallowed.
In a whisper, Hermione said, "What… what were you going to tell me before?"
'She knew,' Harry thought, her eyes boring into his. She knew and it scared her and she was only beginning to gather herself together again. He could still feel the soft brush of her lips against his own and the same feeling that he felt before welled up inside him. She was his equal in every way, the only one that understood him, the only one that could boss him around, the only one that knew how to calm him down, the only one that would tell him when he was acting like an idiot. And Harry knew. Harry knew because he had never been surer of anything before in his life.
He loved her. She was his weakness. The one thing that he couldn't lose.
Harry felt sick as the realization dawned on him. He remembered, with terrifying detail, the night in the Department of Mysteries when Dolohov had cursed her. His panic, his inability to think straight, he'd lost it completely. It was Neville who had the common sense enough to check for a pulse.
Harry felt a fear unlike what he'd ever felt before. Terrible things happened to people he loved. Hermione held the most important place in his life. His best friend, his most trusted confidant, his un-ending support, his brain and heart all at the same time. She'd stay unerringly by his side, no matter what came after him. She'd be beside him during his final fight with Voldemort…
His scar prickled painfully and Harry felt icy cold panic fill his stomach. 'Voldemort knows…'
Hermione was still staring at him, clearly waiting for an answer. He couldn't look at her. Guilt and fear battled it out in his stomach. With a groan, Harry gathered her up against him. "It's nothing," he said quietly, stroking her hair. "It doesn't matter."
She shivered slightly. "What's wrong?"
Harry felt a lump gather in his throat and he held her a little more desperately. "Nothing is wrong. I'm just glad that you're out of the hospital wing."
Hermione nodded and he knew that she knew he was lying. She didn't press him though, seeming to sense his desperation. "I'll always be here for you, Harry."
Harry closed his eyes, the pain on his forehead increasing. He could swear he heard a chilling laugh.
He loved her. She was the one thing he couldn't live without. And he'd have to give her up because loving Hermione put her in terrible danger.