XVI.
At that moment a commotion at the door caught their attention, and Harry leapt to his feet, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. Madam Pomfrey and Professor Dumbledore stood there, taking in the scene. Harry realized that it must look completely bizarre. He was bloody and bruised, Hermione was standing in the middle of the room in a sheet, which now had his blood on it, Ron was fast asleep in his bed, and Malfoy was beaten to a pulp and unconscious on the floor.
"Heavens to Merlin!" exclaimed Madam Pomfrey. "What has been going on in here?"
"A question I would like to know the answer to myself," said Dumbledore, and while Harry noticed that he was using his I'm-about-to-be-disappointed-in-you voice, Harry refused to be intimidated. It took some courage to face off with Dumbledore, but a lot of things had happened here tonight that shouldn't have happened, and he would stick up for Ron and Hermione.
"Sir, I'll tell you about it, but can we find some clothes for Hermione and a place for her to sit down? She's…well, she's had a rough time of it."
Dumbledore raised his eyebrows and then bowed to them both. He turned to Madam Pomfrey who bustled over to Hermione and led her back to a screen at the far end of the room. The men waited silently, and a few minutes later the women came out, Hermione dressed in flannel pajamas and a dressing gown. Madam Pomfrey wordlessly escorted the three of them to her office and shut the door.
Together Harry and Hermione told them what had happened. When Hermione tried to tell them about Malfoy's attack, her voice trembled and she had to take a break before she could finish. Harry's fury surged again, his hands gripped the arms of his chair until his knuckles turned white, but then he realized he shouldn't be holding his chair at all. Hermione looked lost and still a little scared, so he took a breath and put his anger aside for the moment, and reached out and took her hand.
"I called for you, Madam Pomfrey," Hermione said, a slightly accusing tone in her voice. "I needed help getting Harry and Malfoy to stop fighting. But nobody came."
"I am so sorry, my dear," Madam Pomfrey said, and Harry had to acknowledge that she truly looked it. "You see, I had come to the same conclusions as you did regarding young Mr. Weasley, and I was discussing them with the Headmaster as these events were happening. It is most distressing, Albus, I must say!" She turned toward Dumbledore with the same accusation in her voice that Hermione had given to her a moment ago.
"Yes, Poppy, it is," Dumbledore sighed, and he turned and looked out of the window for several minutes. Eventually, his head came up and his shoulders straightened. "Well," he said, "that is that, then. I have given young Mr. Malfoy every chance to walk a different path from his parents, but I will not have Hogwarts girls subjected to assault. I will escort him to Azkaban myself immediately."
Harry and Hermione looked at each other in shock. They hadn't expected that, though Harry was intensely glad about it. Hermione's head came up a little, too, and Harry realized she had been feeling responsible about what had happened, and that Dumbledore's unconditionally taking her side somehow made her feel better.
"Miss Granger," Madam Pomfrey said, "I'd like you to stay here tonight, all right? I am sure the Headmaster will see to it that guards are posted over you and Mr. Weasley while he is away at Azkaban."
Hermione nodded. Harry looked up at Dumbledore and said, "Sir, may I stay, too? I would…I don't know, I'd just feel better…" he mumbled, not sure why he was asking this.
Dumbledore looked at Harry and Hermione consideringly. He nodded. "Yes, Harry, you may stay. I expect Madam Pomfrey will want to treat those cuts, in any case." He looked at Hermione. "I must apologize again, Miss Granger. I expect students to be safe in my school, and nobody should have to go through what you went through tonight. Is there anything I can do for you?"
Hermione shook her head, and Dumbledore took his leave. Through the office window, Harry saw him levitate Malfoy's inert body and float it down the aisle, blood dripping from Malfoy's face onto the hospital floor. Madam Pomfrey found more pajamas for Harry and as soon as he had changed and gotten several strange potions applied to his wounds, and they had found their wands, both of them climbed into beds that were next to each other. The lights were dim, which was good, because Harry was discovering that his black eye was becoming sensitive to light.
It had to be very late, Harry thought, looking at his watch. Half past one. He turned to look at Hermione, who saw him move and turned over on her side to look back at him.
"Are you really all right, Hermione?" he asked her quietly, feeling like crying again for some reason. He cleared his throat and concentrated on not letting the tears fall again.
"I think I'm better than you," Hermione said wryly. "You're a mess. But at least Malfoy's worse."
"Yeah," Harry said, though he didn't smile. "I didn't mean to scare you, you know. It was just…when I saw you wrapped in that sheet, I knew what he must have done, or tried to do, and I lost it, Hermione. I've never been so angry in my life…"
"I know," Hermione answered softly. "It was a little scary, to tell you the truth. But mostly I didn't want you to kill him and end up in Azkaban because of me."
Harry was quiet. He didn't tell her that it would have given him great satisfaction have killed Malfoy in those moments. The only thing he could imagine regretting if he were sent to prison was being separated from her.
"I'm really okay, Harry," she said, her face hidden by shadow. "I just…I felt so dirty after he got my clothes off…" she broke off on a shudder. "But you know, that thing that Dumbledore said, about how no girl should have to go through that…that made me feel better."
"I'm glad," Harry said, simply. "Because it's not your fault. You'd better go to sleep, you know. Ron's going to wake up and see us both here and want to know what happened."
"Yes, you're right" Hermione agreed sleepily. "Good night, then, Harry."
"Hermione?"
"Hmmm…?"
"I won't let anything else happen to you. I'll take care of you," he vowed into the darkness. But Hermione didn't answer; apparently she was already asleep.
Harry lay awake a long time, staring up at the ceiling. He had figured it out, and he was trying to get his mind wrapped around it. When she had Stunned Malfoy and stood there in that sheet, and he realized what could have happened to her-in that moment, it was all so clear, like someone had whispered the truth in his ear. All he could do was to fall to his knees and hold on to her. He knew now why he found himself looking for Hermione's face in the crowd at every Quidditch match. He knew why he had found himself hungry to touch her, just to feel her skin against his. He knew why he could tell her anything, or not tell her but know that she understood anyway. He wondered what he had been afraid of. His parents had been his and Hermione's age when they had fallen in love. So had the Weasleys. Now that he realized it, it seemed so obvious, and so right. In place of the panic and rage that had been simmering inside him the past few hours, new feelings started to seep in to replace them. Peace. Joy. Hope. Suddenly he knew that he would do anything, anything, to make sure that he and Hermione had some kind of future, because he knew from watching his parents and the Weasleys, there was a lot to live for.
Once more he rolled over to face Hermione, gazing possessively at her sleeping face. She was so pretty. In his quietest whisper he tried out the words he had never spoken to anyone before in his life. "I love you."
He figured he could get used to saying that.
XVII.
I'll take care of you…What did that mean? Right now, she was so tired and still so upset, she decided just to accept it. Harry would take care of her. With that thought she drifted off to sleep.
Low conversation awoke her the next morning, though for a while she seemed to have worked it into her dreams until her mind finally realized it was real, and she opened her eyes. Since she was lying on her side, the first thing she saw was Harry's green eyes looking at her. Behind his glasses, she could see that one of them was black and nearly swollen shut. His words of the night before came back to her. I'll take care of you…She smiled. He smiled back, then winced at the pain in his split lip. Quickly he put a finger to his lips and jerked his head over toward Ron's bed.
Luna sat at his bedside, and they seemed to be engaged in a very engrossing conversation. At first Hermione wasn't sure what it was about, but then she realized it didn't matter. Ron was gazing at Luna as though he had never seen her before. And Luna looked quite lovely for an early Sunday morning; had she dressed up to take her shift on watch? Harry and Hermione met each other's eyes, and Hermione put her hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle.
"Well, Daddy wants me to help him run the paper after I graduate, because he's tired of all the traveling. I'm not, though. I'd love to travel after we leave, but I don't like to travel alone. I've always been with Daddy. Do you like to travel?"
"Er…yeah," said Ron. "Well, I haven't done much, really. We never had much money, you know. But we did go to Egypt a few years ago, that was cool."
"Mmmmm…" said Luna. "Well, the paper pays for our traveling, so it wouldn't cost us anything, and we could go together, if you wanted…" She trailed off, but met Ron's eyes directly and didn't blush.
"Er…okay," Ron said, grinning, and he did blush, a bright red that nearly matched his hair.
Hermione smiled, rather mistily. It had never occurred to her before, but she thought Ron and Luna might just be a good couple. They were both a little unusual, and they were both wise in ways that only their closest friends really understood. From across the room she saw Ron reach out and take hold of Luna's hand. Oh, that was really lovely, she thought, and for some reason she found herself getting teary.
Harry was looking at her quizzically, so she looked away. He looked at her for a minute and then shrugged and looked away as well. Then he turned back to her. "All right this morning, Hermione?"
She nodded. "Yes, I'm all right," she said. "I even had good dreams." She didn't mention that her dreams were filled with him, and his deep voice that she loved so much, making that promise that was starting to mean so much to her…I'll take care of you…
"That's good, then," Harry said. He looked like he wanted to say something else, but at that moment Ron and Luna noticed they were awake. They released each other's hands quickly.
"Oy, mate!" Ron called. "You going to tell us what happened to the pair of you?"
They got out of their beds and put their dressing gowns on. Hermione noticed that Harry was moving rather gingerly, probably because of his bruises from the night before. But he didn't say anything as they walked over to Ron and Luna. Taking turns they told the story from the beginning, from their visit after yesterday's Quidditch match to waking up just now. By the time they were finished, Luna looked grim, a very unusual expression for her, and Ron looked livid.
"I slept through that?" he asked incredulously. "Malfoy was attacking you right here and I slept?"
"It wasn't your fault, Ron," Hermione said firmly. "He had cursed you, with this pale green charm I'd never seen before. I think it was a dilution of Avada Kedavra." Ron looked slightly sick at this.
"Anyway, mate, he's off to Azkaban," Harry said with satisfaction.
"And probably not feeling too well this morning," Hermione added, "since Harry beat the stuffing out of him last night. He was really wonderful!" She gazed at him with such pride and admiration that he blushed.
XVIII.
It was all he could do not to thrust out his chest when she gave him that look. He knew he wasn't really a hero, but when she looked at him like that, it made him think, secretly, deep down, that maybe he could be. He shook his head, wondering why it had taken him so long to figure out what he was feeling about Hermione; after all, he had always felt absurdly proud when she complimented him. No other girl, even ones he had fancied, had made him feel like that.
Madam Pomfrey came up to them at that moment and insisted on checking each of them over, and led Hermione off behind the screen at the far end of the room. Luna took her leave and promised Ron she'd be back sometime between mid-afternoon and sunset, which puzzled Harry- why didn't she just use normal times like everyone else? But when he looked at Ron, he saw it didn't bother Ron at all, so he didn't say anything. Leaning back in his chair, Harry stretched out his legs and propped them up on Ron's bed. Ron turned his attention from gazing after Luna to Harry.
"So, what's up with you and Hermione?" he asked bluntly.
"You do realize that you are opening yourself up to all sorts of questions about you and Luna by asking me that," Harry said nonchalantly, examining the bruises on his knuckles.
"Yeah, I do realize," Ron said, "but I decided to take the risk. I'll tell you what's with me and Luna and you won't even have to ask. But we'd better wait for Hermione, `cause she'll want to be in on it, too, and in the meantime, why don't you tell me about you and her?" Ron said this all in one breath, and by the time Harry caught up to it all he had figured out that he really couldn't keep this from Ron.
"Fine," Harry said, blowing out a breath. "The thing is, I have no idea what's with us. I guess nothing. But I'll tell you mate, I just-when I saw that Malfoy had gotten her clothes off-I…" he broke off, the rage of that moment flooding through him again. "It's a good thing she Stunned him Ron, or I would have killed him." He said this last quietly but grimly. "Don't tell her, though, okay? I mean, it all scared her enough, you know?"
Ron nodded. "Don't apologize on my account, Harry," he said, looking equally as grim. "If I hadn't been cursed right then, I'd have gotten out of bed and held him down for you. And I don't even fancy her like you do."
"How d'you know I fancy her?" Harry said, raising a dark eyebrow.
Ron snorted. "Come on, Harry! You've fancied her for ages, haven't you? At least since fifth year when she was always yelling at you, and then she got you to teach the DA. I know you went out with Cho that year, but everybody knew that wouldn't last."
"Nice of you to tell me now!" Harry said wryly.
"Hey, that's what friends are for, mate!" Ron grinned, leaning back against the pillow. Harry noticed that Ron was starting to look pale and tired again. They'd have to leave him to get some rest if he was going to recover now. "Anyway," Ron went on, "I think she might fancy you, too. She hasn't said anything to me, but…well…I don't know. She didn't date Viktor long, did she?"
"No, she didn't," Harry said, and was cheered by the memory. "About as long as I dated Cho, which was almost none. But how do I…I mean…" Harry broke off in embarrassment.
"How do you get her to be your girlfriend without risking ruining your friendship?" Ron asked with unusual perceptiveness.
"Er…yeah…something like that."
"Dunno, mate," Ron said, shrugging. "Want me to talk to her for you?"
"No!" Harry answered emphatically. "I mean, geez, Ron, we're seventeen! We're grownups, remember?"
Ron chuckled. "All right then," he said, "but the offer's open if you can't figure it out for yourself."
At that moment, Hermione came out from behind the screen and Madam Pomfrey beckoned for Harry to come back. With a look over his shoulder at Ron, who was wearing a completely innocent expression on his face, Harry followed her back. He groaned inwardly. Any time a Weasley looked that innocent, you could bet that they were planning to cause trouble.
XIX.
Hermione smiled at Harry, who was on his way to have his cuts and bruises checked out by Madam Pomfrey. Madam Pomfrey had done more than check Hermione's physical condition; she had talked gently and firmly to her about what Malfoy had done-or, rather, tried to do-and how she might find herself feeling in the next few days. Hermione was impressed that the nurse knew so much about it, but when she said as much, Madam Pomfrey just looked businesslike and said that unfortunately, things like this happened every now and then, even at a respectable school like Hogwarts.
But, as Hermione had insisted to Madam Pomfrey, she felt all right. It was a terrible memory, but she didn't think she was going to go around blaming herself-even if she had been careless. And she had a secret that most girls didn't have when they went through something like this. She had the memory of being rescued by her true love, of seeing him avenge her honor. She could feel herself turning pink as she thought of it-and of course she would never say those words out loud to anyone, not even Ginny. It just sounded too old fashioned, too silly. But she could treasure it in the deepest part of her heart, where nobody would ever know, and nobody could tell her she was being overly sentimental or romantic. Or unrealistic. She knew all that, but she would treasure it anyway.
With a sigh she plopped down in one of the chairs next to Ron's bed. Ron had had his eyes closed, but when she sat he opened them and looked at her. His face was very serious. "Are you all right, then, Hermione?" he asked.
"Yes, I think so," she answered truthfully. "Thanks to Harry, really."
Ron stared at her, as though making sure she was telling him the truth, then smiled and rolled his eyes. She frowned. What was that about? Then Ron said in a very casual tone of voice, "So, you fancy him, then, don't you, Hermione?"
She could feel her face burning; she knew she must be beet red. "Wh-why do you say that, Ron?" she sputtered. Ron laughed weakly and she could tell he was getting tired.
"No reason," he said, shrugging. "Just that you act like he's some kind of bleeding hero all the time…"
"Well," she said quietly, looking down at her knees, "he is. He really saved me last night, Ron."
"I know," Ron said. "And it's a good thing, too."
"Why's that?" she frowned.
"Because he fancies you, too, Hermione, only he's just figured it out, and he doesn't know what to do about it. I reckon that if he hadn't stopped Mafloy from-well, from what he was trying to do-he wouldn't have been able to live with himself," Ron explained, and for once he was the one sounding like an adult speaking to a child. "Don't tell him I told you, though, okay?"
Hermione continued to look down. "I think you must have it wrong, Ron," she said quietly. "He would have done that for any of his friends. It doesn't mean he fancies me."
Ron gave a deep, longsuffering sigh. "Yeah, he would have done it for any of his friends, Hermione. So would you have, or me or any of us. But none of us would have nearly beaten Malfoy to death afterwards, would we? None of us would have promised to take care of the person, would they?"
Hermione's heart skipped a beat and she looked up. "How…? I mean, who told you…?"
"Hey, my timing may be bad, but I didn't sleep through everything, did I?" Ron smirked.
Hermione opened her mouth to say something-she had no idea what-but just then Harry came out from behind the screen, fully clothed. He grinned at her, and even though it was distorted by his swollen lip, it made her catch her breath. Ron coughed very unsubtly and rolled his eyes again. Without taking her eyes off Harry she reached over and pinched Ron until he yelled. Fortunately, Harry hadn't seen that, so she didn't have to explain it.
"I'm cleared to go," Harry told them. "Are you?" He looked at Hermione.
She nodded. "Yes. I didn't really even have any injuries." She looked into those green eyes trying to read what he was thinking. How could Ron possibly be right?
"Good," Harry said. "Now, there's just one more thing." He took the chair and turned it backward and sat straddling it. "What's up with you and Luna, mate?"
Ron's ears turned pink, but he gave them a sheepish smile. "Well, I don't know, but I…I held her hand today," he said, looking rather pleased with himself.
Harry gave him an evil grin. "Yeah, we saw that. We were awake over there longer than you thought."
Ron gave him a scowl. "So, did you hear her invite me to travel with her after graduation?"
"Yes," said Hermione, feeling sentimental again. She didn't know what was wrong with her. "But she's only in sixth year, like Ginny, you know."
"I know," said Ron. "But she's so…look, I know that people think she's a bit barmy. I used to think that, too. But she's not. She's just…different. She's really smart, and she knows about people. I mean, she knew how I was feeling about…stuff…" This last was said in a mumble, and Hermione met Harry's eyes. They shrugged, having no idea what that "stuff" was, but figuring Ron would tell them if he wanted them to know. "And then this morning, she showed up for her watch, and she was there when I woke up, and it was really…I don't know…nice."
"So, is she your girlfriend?" Hermione asked curiously. Ron had had a few dates in the past year or so, but he'd never really had a girlfriend.
"I don't know," Ron said. "She told me flat out that she fancies me, and she let me hold her hand, and she invited me to go on her trip with her this summer. Does that make her my girlfriend?" He looked at them uncertainly.
"Well, you great prat," Harry said, "Do you want it to mean she's your girlfriend?"
"Er…yeah, I guess so," said Ron, turning pink again.
"Then you'd better ask her to be," Hermione said. "She told you her feelings, you can't just assume that she knows yours, or that she'll be your girlfriend without being asked."
Ron looked annoyed. "Advice on my love-life coming from the pair of you. Right."
Hermione could feel her face burning again, and she gave Ron a glare. But as she turned way from him, she caught sight of Harry's face, which was also bright red. Now, that was interesting…She stood up with as much dignity as she could muster with her face glowing like the Olympic Torch.
"Harry, I believe this idiot needs his rest. Shall we go?"
Harry smirked. "Yeah, let's leave him to his dreams of Luna, who is not his girlfriend."
Ron reached over and threw a bedpan at them, and they left, laughing as they ducked out of the way.
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