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Lines Crossed by Goldy
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Lines Crossed

Goldy

A/N: Special thanks to Kristin and James who both assured me that this chapter wasn't too sappy. I'm not sure I agree with them, but it was nice to hear. Also thanks to everyone that's left me a review, you guys are all wonderful.

A/N 2: Sorry for the long wait on this update, this chapter gave me a lot of problems. I have, however, completed Lines Crossed, so the last few updates should be quicker (I hope). There are three more chapters left to post and I am planning a sequel (it's just a matter of finding time to write the sequel.)

Harry was pleasantly surprised to find that he was perfectly caught up in his classes. In fact, he felt so comfortable in class that he was beginning to earn himself rather strange looks from the rest of the student body. In Transfiguration, McGonagall's eyebrows nearly disappeared into her hairline when she asked a question and Harry's hand shot up in the air right along with Hermione's. In Potions, Snape tried, and failed, to find something in his potion to criticize.

"You're like a male version of Hermione," Ron muttered at one point, looking half-disgusted and half-betrayed. "It's like I don't even know you anymore."

Hermione remained silent most of the day. He caught her looking at him a few times, an odd look in her eyes. He watched her curiously, taking note of the fact that she appeared flustered and distracted every time someone spoke to her. He caught her taking out the letter and reading it when she thought he wasn't looking.

Finally, annoyed with his scrutiny, she'd folded up the letter a final time. "It's fine," she said crossly, catching his eyes on her. "Quit worrying, you're giving me a headache."

Though Harry was exhausted by the end of the day, he insisted on studying with her in the common room after classes. His goal was to try and force her to tell him what she'd received in the letter.

They curled themselves up by the fire, books spread out around them. Harry watched her carefully as he did his homework, somewhat concerned when she stared blankly at a page of her book for nearly a half hour.

"Ron out with Luna again?" he asked casually.

She blinked, raising her head from her book to stare at him. "Yeah… I think so."

"What are you reading?"

She blinked again and stared in confusion at her book, somewhat surprised to see it there. "Oh, it's about apparating. Our tests are coming up soon."

"Right. Anything useful in it that I should know?"

"I… suppose…"

"Who sent you that letter?"

"My parents." As soon as she spoke the words, Hermione clamped a hand over her mouth, looking horrified.

"What happened?"

She shook her head. "Nothing," she whispered. "I told you to stop asking me about it."

Harry sighed. "Why won't you just tell me what it said?"

Hermione stared at him. "I can't."

"It's about me, isn't it?"

"You know," she hissed. "Not everything is about you. I know it might seem that way sometimes, but you'd be surprised to learn that there are actual, other people living in the world!"

Harry blinked and swallowed heavily. "You didn't mean that," he said quietly.

She sagged. "No… I didn't. Of course I didn't. I'm…" she sighed. "I'm sorry. Just believe me when I say it would be better if you didn't see the letter."

Harry set his work aside, feeling resigned. Knowing she'd probably kill him for what he was about to do, he stood, pulling out his wand as he did so. "Accio letter!" he called.

The letter flew out of her robes and straight into his hand. Hermione's mouth opened in surprise. Using her momentary distraction, Harry tore the letter open, planning on reading as much as he could before she regained her bearings. He glanced down at Hermione, somewhat startled to see that she'd pulled her knees up to her chest and was watching him with a defeated expression.

"Go on," she snapped. "If you're going to go to so much trouble to get your hands on the thing, you might as well read it."

Harry studied her for a moment before turning his eyes to the letter in his hand. Letting out a shaking breath, he opened it.

Dear Hermione,

After we received your last letter, we found ourselves facing a difficult situation. We felt joy for you, yes, but a terrible fear, as well. Though we are happy to hear that Harry seems to care as much about you as you do him, we were also, in all honesty, saddened by the news of your relationship with him. We know that being a witch has brought you fulfillment and joy, but we cannot help but be worried about you. Sweetheart, you are our only daughter.

Year after year we hear about these "adventures" you embark on with this boy. We understand that you are a loyal and caring friend, Hermione, but we are not blind to the danger. We are sure there have been many details left out of your stories.

Our worry only increased last year when the Headmaster wrote to say you were in the hospital wing recovering from a deadly curse. We were smart enough to understand that this injury was due to another one of your "adventures" with that Potter boy.

We're not stupid, Hermione. We know that you've had strong feelings for this boy for a long time. Honestly, we always hoped that he never returned them or that, if he did, he'd be smart enough to push you away. We may not be wizards, Hermione, but we understand a little about your world and we know that Harry is right in the thick of this war your world is facing.

Knowing what we do now, we wish that we had never allowed you to go to Hogwarts. Unfortunately, that is no longer our decision to make. If it were up to us, you'd be at home, safe and in a normal school. We love you, Hermione, and there is nothing more important to us than your safety.

We wish we could embrace your newfound relationship with joy, but our primary concern is with your safety. We can't force you to end things with Harry, but we beg you to be cautious. We are living in fear, Hermione. We are living with the fear that your name will be next on the list of the "missing." Our hearts ache with fear every day.

Please, Hermione, do what is right for your future. End things with Harry now, before you become more involved. If you can't bring yourself to do it for yourself, do it for us.

All our love,

Your mother and father

Harry lowered the letter slowly, feeling somewhat stunned. He wasn't sure how long he stared off into space for, but he jumped slightly at the sound of Hermione's voice.

"Harry…"

Harry blinked several times, his brain still sluggishly trying to process what he'd just read. "You lied," he managed.

Hermione stared at him, looking as though he was speaking a foreign language. "Excuse me?"

"You lied about the letter," he mumbled. "You said it wasn't about me."

Hermione smiled thinly and tentatively stood, taking a few hesitant steps towards him. "Can you blame me? Harry, you were just released from the hospital wing. You're exhausted. I was just trying to… I suppose I was… I was afraid that... I didn't want you doing anything stupid."

Harry stubbornly shook his head. "You should have told me."

"Oh, right," Hermione said bitterly. "Because I knew you'd take it in stride and react maturely. That's the kind of person you are, Harry. Always willing to talk things out before making rash decisions."

Harry clenched his jaw. "Thanks, Hermione," he ground out, beginning to feel slight prickles of anger. "I'm just a reckless prat who acts without thinking now, am I?"

"Give me the letter back," Hermione hissed, making a move towards him. "You had no right to take it from me."

"Fine!" Harry snapped, holding it out. "Not that you would have mentioned it, anyway!"

Hermione snatched the letter out of his hand and shoved it back into her robes. "You know, this is just like you. You jump to conclusions without bothering to get the entire story."

His earlier numb shock at reading the letter quickly faded as anger took its place. "Yeah?" he hissed. "Is that what you think? I just jump to conclusions and put your life into danger. Is that it?"

Hermione's face flushed. "I meant, talking to me! Asking me about how I feel! It's called being in a relationship, Harry! It's called trusting me!"

"YEAH?" Harry yelled. "A relationship? Like lying to me? Like keeping things from me? Like getting letters from your parents and not telling me?"

"This is why I didn't tell you!" Hermione shrieked, so frustrated that her cheeks were beginning to become tinged with red. "Because I knew you wouldn't be able to handle it!"

Having heard more than enough, Harry scowled and turned away, planning on going up to his dormitory until she calmed down. "Fine," he muttered, heading for the stairs. "When you're ready to talk to me about-"

"Oh, NO YOU DON'T!" Hermione yelled, stopping him in his tracks. Harry turned around, surprised to see that she was taking in heaving breaths of air. "If anyone is stomping away, Harry, it's me."

Then, without another word, Hermione slammed several of her books shut, gathered some of them in her arms, and ran up to the girls' dormitory, leaving Harry staring open-mouthed at her back.

Anger leaving as quickly as it came, Harry slowly walked over to the fireplace, feeling the numb shock settle down upon him again. Stupid, he realized. Stupid to fight with Hermione over something so personal. He felt another slight flash of indignation at her unwillingness to show him the letter in the first place, but he quickly pushed it away. She was right-he hadn't handled it well.

If Harry were to be completely honest with himself, he knew it was because Hermione's parents had touched upon his own worst fears. In some small part of himself he also felt a sense of vindication. Finally, he had justification for his attempt to push Hermione out of his life.

Voldemort, it all came down to Voldemort. All because he had marked Harry as his equal. For the first time, Harry wished that he could just get it over with-win or lose; he didn't care, just so long as it was over. Voldemort had taken everything: his parents, his childhood and his godfather.

`Not Hermione,' an insistent part of his head said. How could he let Voldemort end that, too? How could he give in and let him win?

`I hate him,' Harry decided, surprised by the calm in he felt in that thought. He was surprised by the simplicity he felt in hating Voldemort. It wasn't like the dislike he felt for Snape and Malfoy-riddled by blurred lines and shades of gray. No, hating Voldemort was altogether simple.

"Alright, I should've told you about the letter."

Harry jumped, completely taken off guard by Hermione's sudden reappearance. Slowly he turned around, feeling intensely relieved that she'd come back down to reconcile with him.

"Hey..." he said quietly. "You came back."

Hermione smiled shyly. She took two hesitant steps towards him and firmly took hold of his arm. Steering him over to the couch, she said, "Sit. You look like you're going to pass out."

Harry sat. "I'm fine," he mumbled.

Hermione gave him a pointed look. Sighing, she looked down at the floor, chewing her bottom lip nervously. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about the letter," she finally said. "In all honesty, I was scared that you'd take it the wrong way."

Harry let out a short bark of laughter. "They're your parents," he snapped. "How are you taking it?"

She flinched. "Don't."

"Don't what? Don't-"

"Don't yell at me!" she said. "Of course reading this letter upsets me! But I need you to talk to me about it! Don't go into your Moody Self-Righteous Shtick!"

Harry blinked. "Excuse me? My Moody Self-Righteous Shtick?"

Looking a little relieved, Hermione smiled. "Sorry. You get like that sometimes."

"Thank you."

Hermione shook her head. "It doesn't matter what they say. I'm not going to-"

"I know you wouldn't," he interrupted sharply. "It's just that…" Harry sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, images from his dream with Voldemort flitting through his mind. "But they're right. And it doesn't matter anymore. It doesn't matter how far away I push you or how far away I run. You're still in here." Harry tapped his heart. "And that puts you in more danger than your parents can ever hope to understand."

Hermione stared at him for a very long time. "Clearly," she whispered. "We still have some work to do on this issue."

"I guess so," Harry muttered.

Hermione sighed and sat down next to him. Hesitantly, she reached out and took his hand, entwining his fingers through hers. "Harry…"

"Hmmm…?" he managed, swallowing. "I'm sorry, I've just… does this end with kissing, by any chance?"

Hermione relaxed and smiled brightly. "You know, you'd really be much more adept at pushing me away if you could keep your hormones in check."

Harry made a face. "Sorry, can't help it. I'm a sixteen-year-old boy. I've heard it's statistically impossible."

"From who? Ron?"

"Ron? Read statistics? No… this is more of an ingrained knowledge, if you will…"

Hermione frowned at him. "Harry, really, try to focus at the issue at hand, will you?"

"Sorry," he mumbled. "I'm listening."

Hermione thought for a moment before finally saying. "Do you wish things had turned out differently between us?"

"I dunno," Harry answered honestly, avoiding her gaze.

Hermione sighed. "Harry…" she said composedly. "I'm trying to be understanding, I am. Please, I'm just asking for a little bit of… something from you in return."

"What d'you want me to say, Hermione?" he snapped. "That I'm delighted about the danger I'm putting you in? That being with you makes me happier than anything else? That I'm terrified of losing you the way I lost Sirius? You know all that."

Hermione bit her lip, but her eyes softened somewhat. "Look, the thing is, Harry… the thing is, I'll never be safe. It doesn't matter if I was Jane Doe, living in Australia, a Muggle, and as boring as possible-I'd still be in danger. Everyone person living in this planet is in danger from Voldemort. It's about choice. I won't turn my back on what's going on, I won't hide under the covers and pretend that Voldemort isn't there."

"Yes, but-"

"What you don't understand," she interrupted firmly, turning her eyes up to meet his. "Is that I'd stand by you no matter what. I know. I've seen what Voldemort is capable of. I can't turn my back on it-I won't. You can push me as far away as possible, but I'd still be there. It doesn't matter that I'm in love with you, which I am, or that you're my best friend, which you are, this is still a fight I'd be in, regardless. You could snog Cho Chang tomorrow and I'd still stand beside you." Hermione thought for a moment and added, "And then I'd kill you myself."

Harry felt such a strong wave of love and affection for the girl sitting next to him that he was momentarily speechless. Their eyes met and suddenly it didn't matter that he couldn't come up with the right words. He could see it on her face, in her eyes-she understood him and trusted him in a way that no one else did or could.

Finally, finding his voice, Harry shifted a little closer to her. "Is this the part where it ends with kissing?"

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "I give you a long speech about love and loyalty and the only thing you get from it is the possibility of a snog?"

"It was a very touching speech, Hermione," Harry said seriously. "And I absolutely agree with you. However, I think it's also very important to end such speeches with celebratory-"

"Snogs?" Hermione suggested wryly.

"For example, yeah."

There were a few punctuated snickers after Harry's last pronouncement, effectively ending the moment. Harry glanced wildly about, eyes landing on a group of first year girls sitting in the corner. They were huddled in a group and watching him and Hermione with great interest. He opened his mouth to tell them off but Hermione got there first.

"Honestly!" she said angrily, standing up and drawing herself up to her full height. "I'm a prefect. I won't tolerate such displays of… of… nonsense! And snooping! Go to bed!"

One of the girls flushed and stood up. "But… it's not even 8:00 yet!"

"I'm a prefect," Hermione repeated, in what Harry thought was an uncanny imitation of Percy. "It's past your bedtime if I say it's past your bedtime!"

The four girls rose, grumbling. One of them, a tiny, pixyish blonde smiled at Harry on her way up to the girl's dormitories. "We'd SO kiss you."

The girls promptly dissolved into a fit of hysterical giggles.

"Uh, thanks…" Harry said lamely, suddenly wishing he were somewhere else.

Hermione scowled. "Yeah, very witty, very smart

The girls giggled again, looking at each other and blushing. "You two are really cute, you know."

Harry grinned. "Yeah? You think so?"

The girls all nodded. "You've been nominated for Hogwarts' Star Couple of the Year," the blonde said, looking delighted. Like a chain reaction, the rest of the girls let out a high-pitched squeal.

"We've been what?" Hermione shrieked.

The girls stepped back. "It's… it's a new thing this year," the blonde stammered, holding up a sheet of parchment. "Let's see… you're up against Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson-no competition there." The girls looked at each other and nodded seriously. "Roger Davies and Hannah Abbott, ugh, boring… Ron Weasley and Luna Lovegood-"

"They're totally mad," one of the girls interjected. "No chance."

"Hey!" said Harry. "That's our best friend you're calling mad!" Harry glanced at Hermione, waiting for agreement.

She shuffled her feet and Harry glared at her. "Err… of course Ron's not, well, I don't mean to say that… he's not… not really, anyway…"

The girls gave her weird looks. "And, of course," the blonde continued cheerfully. "Harry Potter and Hermione Granger. There's really no chance of failure…"

The girls nodded seriously at each other again. "Practically none," one of them piped up.

"Our job to study you two," another said.

"Scope you out," a short brunette said.

"Be your bid," the blonde finished.

"Plus! We're hoping to see Harry naked!"

The girls promptly dissolved into another fit of laughter. Harry stared at the ceiling, mortified. Hermione fumed and grabbed the parchment.

"Who's inane, childish, idea was… Lavender! Lavender Brown!" Hermione crumpled the paper into a ball and turned an interesting shade of red. "I'm going to kill her. I am going to kill her!"

Harry noticed that the four girls who had started the trouble to begin with all left in a hurry when they caught sight of Hermione's fury. For a moment, he was inexplicably jealous.

"Well, don't you think…" he said carefully. "It's sort of flattering that we might win a Hogwarts' Start Couple of the Whatever award?"

This was, apparently, the wrong thing to say.

Hermione seethed. "Oh, yes," she hissed. "That would be wonderful. After everything we've been through… Hogwarts' Star Couple indeed…"

"Well, c'mon, Hermione… our competition isn't much… I'm sure we could…"

"Harry!" she said loudly. "You're missing the point!"

Harry blinked at her. "Okay… then, err… what is the point?"

"The point!" she cried, waving her arms, the ball of crumpled parchment bobbing up and down in one of her hands. "The point is… the point is…"

"Yes?"

"Well!" she sniffed, clearly determined to be irritable. "If you don't know, then I'm not going to tell you."

Harry studied her for a long time. "Really, Hermione, will you just tell me why you're so irritated?"

"You're just all mushy because a bunch of first-years were practically throwing themselves at your feet." Hermione bristled. "Seeing you naked! Honestly! The nerve…"

"Hermione," Harry said, amused. "You're jealous of a bunch of first-years?"

She frowned. "Hardly, I'm merely stating that it was…"

"Inappropriate?" Harry offered.

Hermione appeared at a loss and, instead of replying, tossed the parchment into the fire, watching in satisfaction as flames quickly engulfed it. "It's just that…" she said softly, staring at the fire. "Don't you think that we're so much… more than that? After everything, saying that we're Hogwarts' Star Couple sounds so…" Hermione sighed and pursed her lips. "Well, I'd just like to think that we're deeper than that, I suppose. Lavender Brown, indeed! Honestly, if that girl put as much effort into her studying as she did into her gossip…"

"You'd have a rival for the top of our class," Harry said lightly. "It would be terrible."

Hermione turned around. "I'm sorry, Harry," she said, smiling. "I know I'm just being stupid."

"You're not being stupid," he said quietly. "You're right, we are more than that. But we know that. That's all that's important. Who cares about some stupid award? No one else can possibly understand what it's like to be in this relationship except you and me." Harry thought for a moment. "And possibly Ron. Poor bloke."

Hermione laughed. "Alright-you're right."

Harry grinned, holding out a hand to pull her against him. "You don't say that to me nearly enough."

Hermione chuckled softly. "Weren't we supposed to end something or another with kissing?"

"Yeah, I remember that. It was a good idea. Let's do that."

Hermione stood on tip toes so their noses brushed, her eyes wide and fixed upon his. Her breath was warm as it whistled over his chin and Harry felt his heart rate go up a notch. He traced his fingertips softly over her cheek, leaning forward until their lips brushed.

Her hands gripped the back of his neck and she was making delightful little gasping and squeaking noises. She pressed herself closer to him, her hands moving to his hair, making it even more unmanageable and messy. Her fingernails scraped his scalp, her lips still pressed to his, her tongue creeping into his mouth and his entire brain nearly short-circuited at the amount of pure feeling he was experiencing.

When they pulled away, it was with much gasping and panting. Hermione's eyes shone as she snuggled up against him. Idly, Harry began playing with her hair, a musing look on his face. "How much do you want to bet we still have our first year audience?"

"Mmm…" Hermione said, sounding dazed and snuggling closer to him.

"Bet we're a shoo in after that display…" Harry thought for a moment. "Maybe it would be a good idea to find a more private place to snog. What's the library like this time of night?"

"Mmm…" Hermione said again.

Harry couldn't quite contain the manly thrill her dazed mumblings gave him. "Awfully relaxed after that, I s'pose?"

"Don't get all puffed up about it," she said irritably.

"Oh, I'm sure you have quite a part in it."

Hermione didn't make a reply, apparently quite content to stay where she was. Harry's mind wandered back to the letter she'd received from her parents and his stomach gave a small twist of guilt. The last thing he wanted was to be a source of contention between Hermione and her parents. Knowing that their good mood was delicate, Harry mentally debated whether or not he should say anything.

"Err… Hermione, I'm just wondering…" Harry sighed and trailed his fingers over her cheek. She looked up at him, a small smile on her lips.

"Yes?"

"Well, it's just that… your parents… d'you reckon that things will be okay… with them?"

Hermione tensed and pulled away from him. "Of course things won't be okay," she said frostily.

Harry closed his eyes. "Hermione, I'm so sorry. I never wanted-well, I didn't want this."

"Harry, it's not you," she said, her tone gentler. "They don't-they can't-understand. Honestly, things have been difficult already the last few years… we hardly see each other anymore. I don't think… they really know me, who I am-they can't, not really. Oh, don't get me wrong, I love them very much. But they're not… this is my life. Being a witch, being at Hogwarts, you and Ron…"

"Oh," Harry said, very quietly. "Are you… do you regret that?"

Hermione smiled a bit wistfully. "I don't regret this," she said, gesturing around her. "Before I found out I was a witch… well, I was very lonely. Finding out I had magical powers was like finding out I had a purpose. It's silly, I know, but I never felt like I fit in anywhere else. You and Ron were my first friends, did you know that?"

Harry shook his head. "Yeah, me too."

They shared a sad smile. "I can't ever imagine going back," Hermione continued honestly. "But I do wish sometimes that this… thing… that separates me from my mum and dad wasn't there." She paused and her voice became softer. "They still think I'm going to be a doctor."

Harry's jaw dropped. "Do they really?"

Hermione nodded. "They talk about university all the time," she admitted. "Like me being a witch is just a phase-something I'm bound to get over. I don't think they understand that my Hogwarts' transcript wouldn't be accepted at any Muggle school."

"I had no idea," Harry said. "Why haven't you told me any of this stuff before?"

Hermione shrugged. "It wasn't something we ever really talked about. Don't take this the wrong way, Harry… but it's not something that you ever have to worry about. And, Ron, well… he doesn't understand Muggles, his parents are both wizards…"

"Hermione, I'm really sorry," Harry said sincerely. "I wish that it didn't have to be that way. It sounds terrible."

"It's not," she said, smiling. "I'm not unhappy, I promise. And… I've been dealing with it for a long time. My parents love me very much, Harry. They don't understand me, but they'll always support me."

Harry nodded, accepting her words.

At that moment, a round, squeaking figure came flying in through the portrait hole, abruptly cutting off whatever reply Harry was going to make. Harry and Hermione gasped in shock, completely bewildered by the sight of Neville.

Neville took one look at them and bolted behind the couch, crouching into a tight ball. Harry and Hermione looked at each other and Harry timidly stepped towards him. Neville was shaking like a leaf and sweating so profusely that a wet spot was gathering on the back of his robes.

Neville picked up his head, eyes alighting with relief. "Oh, Harry!" he exclaimed, looking panicked. "It's Ron! He's just found out…"

Harry felt a stirring of pity. "Oh, dear… did you… did Ginny, you know… tell him?"

Neville shook his head, looking petrified. "No!" he moaned. He glanced in Hermione's direction suspiciously before turning back to Harry. He dropped his voice. "He caught us, you know… he was… guess we were in a favourite spot of his and Luna's…"

"Good, god…" Harry breathed.

"He's going to kill me!" Neville said. "Ginny and Luna both stunned him and told me to run. I dunno… I don't think I have much of a head start…"

"It's… it's okay, Neville…" Harry said uncertainly, feeling his stomach turn over.

The portrait hole burst open, and Harry cautiously backed a few steps away from the couch. Ron was standing in the entrance to the common room, anger radiating off him. In fact, Harry could only remember one other time he'd seen Ron so angry. The day he'd punched him after going to Hogsmeade with Hermione.

Harry began to think that Neville's future wasn't so bright. Ron stalked towards him, his face a fiery red and spittle flying out of the corner of his mouth.

"Where…" he gasped, eyes flashing in anger. "Where. Is. That. Smarmy. Git. Who. Touched. MY SISTER?!"

Hermione shot Harry a startled look and Harry surreptitiously stepped further away from the couch, drawing Ron's attention away from Neville's hiding form.

"Erm… are you okay, Ron? Who are you talking about?"

Ron's was gripping his wand so tightly his knuckles were turning white. "Oh, don't you dare," he snapped. "When I'm finished hexing that Longbottom into oblivion you and I are going to be having a little chat, Potter. Giving out girl advice, he says!" Ron took a dangerous step towards him. "Been talking about my sister behind her back, eh? Been giving advice to other Gryffindors about how to shag her?"

"Course not, Ron…" Harry said meekly, backing up a step.

Hermione took a tentative step towards Harry, looking fearfully in Ron's direction. "Now, Ron…" she began soothingly. "You don't want to do anything you'd regret later…"

Ron seethed, more spittle flying out of the corners of his mouth.

"Right," Harry muttered. "I'm the moody one…"

"Not helping…" Hermione whispered warningly.

Ron stomped out of the common room, taking the stairs up the boys' dormitories two at a time. Harry and Hermione stared after him, mouths slightly agape.

They looked at each other. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Harry asked, shooting the couch a worried look.

They heard a scared squeak emanate from behind it.

Hermione nodded. "Ron might do something he'd regret later?"

"Well, I'm not sure he'd regret it…." There was another terrified squeak from behind the couch. "But, yeah," Harry said quickly. "He's pretty fired up…"

The portrait hole swung open and Harry and Hermione whirled around, surprised to find a seething Ginny Weasley staring back at them. Much like her brother, spit was flying out of the corner of her mouth, and her chest was rising and falling in tune with her panting breaths.

"Where is he?" she demanded, staring at them furiously.

Simultaneously, Harry and Hermione took a step backwards.

"Uh…" Harry said.

"Who, Ginny?" Hermione said, sounding faint.

"My brother!" Ginny shrieked, stamping her foot. "That stupid git who's going to ruin my chance with Neville before it's even happened! I am going to kill him!"

There was another squeak from behind the couch, but Ginny was too riled up to notice.

Soundlessly, Harry and Hermione pointed in the direction of the boys' dormitories. Ginny, after much more spitting, stalked loudly up the stairs, wand pointed out in front of her.

"RON WEASLEY!" She yelled. "I'VE HAD JUST ABOUT ENOUGH OF YOUR INTERFERENCE…."

Harry was very much relieved when Ginny entered the dormitory and they could no longer hear her. The common room seemed deathly quiet all of a sudden without the commotion and Harry exchanged an uncertain look with Hermione before glancing warily up the stairs again.

Neville emerged from his hiding place, still sweating and trembling like a leaf. There was an unmistaken shine in his eyes, however.

"Did you hear that?" Neville breathed. "She likes me."

Hermione shot him an amused look. "Of course she does, Neville. She kissed you, didn't she?" Hermione winked at him. "I heard she even slipped you-"

Neville blushed furiously and nearly fell over. "How did you know that?" he sputtered. "Who told you that?"

Harry suddenly became very interested in looking at the ceiling. He narrowed his eyes, pointing at it. "Hey…" he said. "Is it just me or is the ceiling moving?"

CRASH!

The ceiling visibly shook and bits of paint and dust cascaded down upon their heads.

Harry rubbed his head. "Never should ask…" he muttered. "Never ask…"

Hermione sent him a sympathetic look as she combed paint chips out of her hair.

Neville looked positively faint with anxiety. He gave the ceiling a horrified look before quickly settling his eyes elsewhere. "You two won't let Ron kill me… right?"

"Of course not, Neville," Hermione said, looking rather skeptical.

BANG!

More pieces of paint rained down on their heads. Harry sighed painfully, shaking his head to clear all the paint out of his hair. He shot the ceiling a contemptuous look, silently cursing Ron and Ginny.

He glanced at Hermione, smiling a little when he caught sight of a small chip of white paint on her nose. "Hermione," he said, gesturing to his nose. "Paint."

"Oh?" she said, blinking her eyes at him. "Really? Someone should probably get that for me."

"Yeah? Like who?"

"I'm not sure," Hermione said vaguely. "Someone brave, smart… always there to help a girl out of dangerous situations…"

"Here," Neville said. "I've got it."

Harry started coughing to cover up for his snort of laughter, while Hermione flushed in embarrassment. "Thanks, Neville," she managed.

"No problem," Neville answered absently.

Hermione rolled her eyes in Harry's direction, still looking rather embarrassed. She dropped her voice, glancing at Neville, who was studiously looking at the floor. "You're right," she muttered. "We should find a quieter place to snog…" Seeing the look on his face, she frowned. "And if you say the Room of Requirement, I will be forced hex you. Merlin only knows what it'll turn into if you walk in there…"

"You're not even the tiniest bit curious-"

"No."

CRASH! BANG!

"Do you think we should go up there?" Hermione said, looking troubled.

Harry glanced at the stairs. "No way," he said immediately. "This is family stuff, Hermione. No way we want to get in the middle of that. It's Weasley stuff. They all have such a temper…"

"It's that flaming red hair that does it…"

They smiled at each other and Neville cleared his throat, shuffling his feet. "Um," he said. "I just want you to know… you're definitely a shoo in for Hogwarts' Star Couple of the Year. I mean…" he cleared his throat. "I'd vote for you, at least."

Seeing the look of intense fury that passed over Hermione's features, Harry quickly jumped to answer. "Thanks, Neville. We appreciate that."

With what looked like a great struggle, Hermione managed to refrain from commenting.

The three of them looked up when Ginny and Ron came back down the stairs. Ron appeared to be limping somewhat, but Ginny looked relatively unscathed. She beamed happily and smiled warmly in Neville's direction.

With what looked like physical pain, Ron approached Neville slowly, his jaw clenching. Ron thrust out his hand, teeth gnawing together. "Neville," he said in a robotic voice. "I'm delighted by the news that you're snogging my sister. What a wonderful thing to have happened. Please accept my congratulations."

With great trepidation, Neville shook his hand, looking like a deer-caught in the headlights. "Thanks, Ron…" he stumbled. "I mean, I know it must be kind of a shock, but I really like her and I promise that you won't ever have to see what you saw ever again…" Neville trailed off when Ron's grip on his hand visibly tightened. "Anyway," Neville continued in a high-pitched voice, turning pale. "Your support means a lot."

Wearing a fake smile, Ron released his hand before turning to Harry. His eyes narrowed. "Let's take this outside, Potter," he growled.

Hermione shot Harry a fearful look. "Ron," she said faintly. "Maybe this isn't such-".

"It's okay, Hermione," Harry said, meeting Ron's gaze.

Hermione wrung her hands. "Oh-I-don't you two do something stupid…."

Ron didn't even blink. "Let's go, Potter."

"Lead the way, Weasley."

Braced for the worst, Harry followed Ron's angry steps out of the portrait hole. Ron kept going, walking until they were outside the castle. Harry stayed a few steps behind him, mind racing. Well, he wasn't about to let Ron punch him, or take him in a duel again-that much was certain. He'd already let Ron win enough this year, as it was. Harry had his own reputation to uphold. Besides, he hadn't really done anything wrong this time.

Ron stopped suddenly and Harry nearly plowed right into him. He sidestepped quickly, ducking instinctively in case Ron was about to throw his fist towards his head. To his amazement, Ron merely stared at him.

"Harry," he said shortly. "What are you doing?"

"Err… I was, uh…" Harry looked around. "Ducking?"

Ron scowled at him. "Harry, what kind of person do you think I am? I don't just go around punching people, you know."

Harry blinked. "Sure, Ron."

Ron huffed out a sigh and rubbed the back of his neck. "So Ginny and Neville, eh?" he said conversationally.

Harry, more than a little confused, merely nodded, unwilling to do something to further spark Ron's temper.

"So… what do you, err…" Ron swallowed. "What do you think about them?"

It suddenly occurred to Harry that Ron hadn't brought him outside to fight, after all. In fact, Harry was somewhat surprised to find that Ron probably just needed to someone to talk to. However, Harry also thought it was in his best interests to tread carefully. "Dunno what I think about them, Ron."

Ron nodded approvingly. "Exactly!" he said. "You know, we've shared a room with that Longbottom for almost six years now, but what do we really know about him?" Ron narrowed his eyes. "You don't know anything, do you?"

"Of course not, Ron."

Mollified, Ron nodded again, looking distinctly warmer. "Harry, you know… imagine this… apparently, Ginny thinks that I'm somewhat… possessive…"

"No…"

Ron nodded gravely. "I mean, I s'pose I can be rather… protective…"

"Really?"

"Only sometimes," Ron said, rather defensively. "It's just… it's Ginny… she's so young…"

Harry resisted the rather strong urge he had to point out that Ginny was only a year younger than them.

"Anyway," Ron said, clearing his throat. "Maybe… maybe it won't be so bad if she's with Neville. I mean, he's right frightened of me, isn't he?"

"Absolutely terrified."

Ron looked cheered up. "Hey, you know, Harry, this could be fun. Next time Neville's late for anything, all I'll have to do is glare and ask him if he's been spending time around my sister."

"Hmm…" Harry said, in a noncommittal tone. "You know, Ron… I think he really likes her."

Ron jerked a shoulder. "Yeah? Well-I guess Neville's a nice enough fellow." Ron sighed and turned his eyes to the ground. "You know, Harry…" he said quietly. "I s'pose I just always hoped that you would…"

"Oh," Harry said, feeling uncomfortable. "Well… that's not… I mean, I'm with Hermione… I love Hermione. And even if I wasn't-"

Ron waved a hand. "I know. I was just trying to explain why I was acting like such…."

"A prat?" Harry filled in helpfully.

"A prat," Ron said heavily, before meeting his eyes. "But if you ever give out girl advice about my sister again, I will kill you."

"Right," Harry said, shifting a little. "Glad that's covered."

They slowly walked back up to the castle, Ron in a much better mood. "Looks like things with Hermione are going well."

Harry folded his arms over his chest. "Yeah," he said kicking at a stone. "She's… I don't know what I'd do without her, Ron."

Ron's voice was quiet. "It's a good thing I don't have to worry about her turning you into a giant sap or anything."

Though Ron's tone was light, Harry was surprised by the bitter undertones he heard. Figuring it was just his imagination, Harry grinned sideways at his friend. "Plus, she's a really good kisser. Did I mention that? Because that helps, too."

"Didn't mention that, no… but it's really not that hard to, Hermione!"

Harry's eyes widened and both he and Ron came to a stumbling stop just inside the entrance. Hermione was sitting, wand balanced on knees pulled up to her chest, and back pressed against the wall. She stared at them blandly as they approached. "Why, hello," she greeted. "Fancy meeting the two of you here."

"Hermione," Harry said slowly. "What are you doing here?"

She blew out a breath. "Well, I was-don't take this wrong way or anything, Harry-but I was worried."

"Worried?" Harry repeated.

"Well, yes, I suppose…" she said slowly, eyes ticking nervously to Ron. "I thought that maybe… Ron would… perhaps…"

"Beat the living daylights out of him?" Ron suggested, sounding entirely too cheerful by the prospect.

Hermione flushed and merely nodded.

"What?" Harry exploded. "Ron couldn't beat the living daylights out of me!"

Hermione chewed her bottom lip. "Oh, I know, but… Ron… you do get awfully riled up sometimes…" Ron's faced turned red and Hermione rushed to continue. "I just thought I'd make sure the two of you didn't get expelled."

"Ron couldn't beat the living daylights out of me!" Harry repeated loudly.

Ron shot him an irritated look and shook his head. "Can you believe him?" he said to Hermione. "He's still in denial."

Hermione frowned. "Well," she said primly. "He certainly wasn't the one that went tearing through the common room, destroying property, and ruining my evening."

"Huh," Ron said, blushing. "Fancy that."

Harry couldn't help the smirk he threw in Ron's direction. "Get beat up by your sister, Ron?"

Ron blushed an even deeper shade of red. "That's none of your business," he muttered, dropping down to sit next to Hermione.

Harry settled down on her other side. For a moment, the three of them did nothing but stare at the grounds, each lost in their own thoughts.

"This floor is quite uncomfortable," Ron finally said, shifting back and forth. "And also rather cold. Pleasant resting spot, Hermione."

"Well-if you don't like it-"

"Then I can just leave," Ron finished tiredly, shifting a little more. "Bloody hell, I think my buttocks are freezing up…"

"Ron!"

"Sorry."

"Do you really think Ron could beat the living daylights out of me?" Harry mumbled.

"Oh, Harry, stop obsessing."

"I'm not obsessing."

"Sure you're not, mate."

"You stay out of this," Harry said witheringly, glaring at Ron.

"It's almost like he doesn't care about my opinion," Ron muttered to Hermione, trying to affect a wounded countenance.

Hermione rolled her eyes and heaved a great sigh, as if she was fed up with both of them. Absently, she patted Harry on the arm. "Of course I think you could hold your own in a duel, Harry."

Harry was less than reassured. "Yeah? Hold my own, how?"

"Well…" Hermione said thoughtfully. "You're pretty good when you're up against Voldemort…"

Ron gave a mock shudder. "Would you stop, Hermione?"

"Honestly, Ron, last time I checked, saying Voldemort's name hardly caused a rain of fire."

"You never know," Ron mumbled. "It could."

"So… just against Voldemort, then?" Harry asked, vaguely wondering when Hermione's opinion had become this important to him. "You don't think I could take on anyone else?"

"Harry, you're a very effective dueler," Hermione said. "Now stop obsessing."

"Yeah, but are you just saying that? Or d'you really mean it?"

Instead of answering, Hermione turned to Ron. "Do you know," she said quietly. "Harry's eyebrow still twitches whenever someone mentions we're a couple."

"WHAT?" Harry yelled at the same time that Ron said, "Really?"

"Oh, yes," Hermione said knowingly. "It's very interesting, really."

"What?" Harry said again, affronted. "My eyebrow does not twitch."

Ron cocked his head. "Hey, Harry… hear the news that you and Hermione were a… couple?" Ron studied Harry curiously before nodding profusely, looking highly amused. "Yep. It twitches."

Harry scowled. "You two are making this-"

"Couple," Ron said again. "Ha! It twitched again!"

"Shut it."

"You're going to get married and have babies… Oi! Hermione, look at it go!"

"I swear to you, Ron, if you don't shut up this very instant I'm going to…"

"COUPLE!"

"THAT'S IT!"

Ron started snickering and, much to his chagrin, Harry felt his mouth twitching in return. Turning to Hermione, Ron raised his eyebrows. "And this doesn't bother you, Hermione?"

"Oh, Harry loves me very much," she said calmly. "He's just terrified by it."

"Do not," Harry muttered. "Love you. Not right now, anyway."

Hermione gave a long suffering and sigh and looked at Ron. "He's joking."

"I dunno, Hermione…" Ron said seriously, studying Harry. "He looks awfully upset…"

Hermione turned around and studied him. "Is awfully pale, isn't he?"

"OKAY!" Harry said. "Did I miss the bulletin? I didn't realize it was Pick on Potter day!"

"Nice alliteration," Hermione said approvingly.

"Excuse me?" Ron asked.

"Alliteration," Hermione snapped. "It's when-oh, never mind…." She turned to Harry. "You love me."

"I do not."

Hermione grinned and turned back to Ron. "He loves me."

Ron looked back and forth between them. "Yep, totally smitten."

Harry folded his arms over his chest. "I don't love either of you."

Hermione leaned her chin on his shoulder, curling her fingers on her arm. Widening her eyes, she met his gaze and, though Harry knew exactly what she was doing, he felt his resolve crumble. "Harry…" she whispered.

"Err… hmm?"

She blinked. "You love me."

"Well, okay…" he mumbled. "You, I love a little…"

Ron coughed, making a noise that sounded suspiciously like "goo-goo eyes!"

"It's not really Pick on Potter day…" Hermione said slowly, eyes furrowing into a little frown.

"However," Ron said brightly. "That can be arranged…"

Harry felt his heart turn over as he stared into Hermione's wide, plaintive eyes. Slowly, he reached up, stroking a hand down her hair. For the first time, he was really struck by the thought that things were going to be okay. He was startled for a moment, realizing that he'd been waiting, ever since that first innocent kiss in the common room, for the disaster that would end it and rip them apart. And he realized that maybe, just maybe, that disaster would never come.

Hermione looked at him questioningly, her small fingers tightening their grip on his arm. He smiled softly at her, leaning forward until his lips brushed her forehead, causing Ron to release several loud grunts of disgust.

Things really were okay.

He had Hermione's support, friendship, and love on one side and he had Ron's loyalty, friendship, and love on the other. And, despite what he had said earlier, he did love them both. Very much.

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