***************
Discourse
Harry wrapped Hermione up in his cloak, then gently picked her up. He realized there was no way to apparate the both of them back to the hotel. If a wizard, even one as powerful as himself, could apparate other wizards, then he'd probably have been abducted ages ago by any one of Voldemort's followers.
He cast a levitating charm on Hermione to make it nearly effortless to carry her back. Luckily they weren't terribly far from the hotel, and, seeing as how it was so late it was nearly morning, he didn't have to entertain too many awkward and questioning glances.
Only the desk clerk was present when he entered the lobby, and he was either too polite or too well trained to ask any questions. Harry took the lift up to the twelfth floor, unlocked the doors to the suite, and gently placed Hermione on her bed.
He sat on the bed as well, relieved that the night was finally over and he'd managed to save Hermione. Although he was certain she'd balk at such a term. He saw it as nothing less than a heroic rescue, but, if was to be perfectly honest with himself, she hadn't been the one rescued. He'd narrowly managed to save himself from a life without her - the mere thought of which made his chest hurt. He'd nearly lost her because of some foolish pride, and, if that had happened, he doubt he'd ever be able to forgive himself.
He sat with his arms folded on his legs, his head drooped in exhaustion, as he once again ruminated over the evening's events. Then he wearily rose from the bed and went to wake Ginny, who had fallen asleep on the transfigured couch.
"Ginny?" He whispered softly as he shook her shoulder. "Ginny, wake up!"
"Mmmm," she murmured, then turned away from him and into the couch.
"Ginny!" He hissed at her. "It's Harry! I'm back with Hermione! C'mon Gin, I need your help."
"...don't... Gin...," she turned back around, then slowly opened her eyes. "Harry? Is that you?"
"Yeah, c'mon Ginny. I really need your help."
It took her a moment to truly awaken, and then she propped herself up on her elbows and rubbed at her eyes.
"Did you find her? Is she alright?"
"I put her to bed."
"Oh thank Merlin!" She sat up, then let loose a comically loud belch. She had the decency to look truly embarrassed and Harry couldn't help but give a small laugh.
"Oh my goodness! I'm sorry! It's the alcohol - I think I had a bit too much."
"Seems to be a trend."
"Where's Hermione?"
"She's asleep in her room. I need you to help me put her to bed properly."
Ginny wearily stood, then stretched and shuffled towards Hermione's room with him. She saw her lying on the bed, completely cocooned in Harry's cloak.
"Ginny, where are her bedclothes?"
Ginny scratched her head a bit, her stylish and streaky hairdo now a frizzed up knotted mess. She thought a moment, then looked down at her own outfit.
"Oh, um, actually," and she looked quite sheepish, "those, um, those are her bedclothes."
"You're joking?"
"No, no I'm not. These are my bedclothes as well. She transfigured us into these," she waved her arm up and down over her outfit. "We were just having a bit of fun is all."
"Right." Harry took a moment to think. "Do you happen to remember what spell she used?"
"Not really. As it is, I'm having a problem remembering what day it is."
"Alright then," he drew his wand then waved it towards her. "Do you mind if I try something?"
"Er, um, I suppose not." She closed her eyes a bit too tightly.
"Oh honestly Ginny, if Hermione could do that drunk, certainly I'm not going to do any worse sober."
Ginny opened one eye. "Yeah, but she's Hermione. You might be the Boy Who Lived and such, but you're no McGonagall's Pet."
Harry's expression was a mix between crossed and amused.
"Just shut your eyes then."
And Ginny squinched her eyes up tightly as Harry performed the spell to return her clothes to their original state.
Before peeking, Ginny immediately noticed that her clothing was much more comfortable. She opened one, and then the other eye, looked down, then breathed a sigh of relief.
"Not too bad," she commented. Even the black streaks had vanished from her hair.
"Alright then, I'll just transfigure her back as well."
"Good idea. I don't even want to think about what Ron or the twins would say if they saw her in that."
"Right, about that, where is Ron anyway?"
"I guess he's still out with Luna. I didn't hear them return, and I know he'd have had some words about the outfit I was in, whether I was asleep or not."
"That's good then. Listen, this," and he twirled his hand in a circle indicating the three of them, "this can't go beyond the three of us. I know Hermione's probably already embarrassed enough as it is, and, as you said, I don't even want to think about what the others would say if they knew what went on tonight."
"Harry, what did happen? Was she still at that club when you found her?"
"She was. She'd had some more to drink, and," and Harry chose his words carefully, "she was dancing like a maniac. Quite unlike herself. But then she was quite sick..."
"Is that what that smell is?"
"That would be the bit that got on me."
"Ewww!"
"That's why I need your help. Listen...," and Harry gave brief instructions to Ginny before telling her to go to bed. He promised to stay with Hermione and let her know when she was awake in the morning.
He went back to Hermione's room and levitated her above the bed. He pulled back the blankets and removed his cloak from her before setting her down. He removed her boots, then performed the same transfiguration charm he'd done on Ginny and watched as the revealing outfit returned to her oversized shirt and sweatpants. Her wand dropped away from her arm as the tight sleeves shrunk and loosened. He set it on the night table for safe keeping. The pink streaks also disappeared and her hair was pulled into a loose ponytail. Harry gently removed the elastic and smoothed her hair out on the pillow.
She looked so peaceful and he found it hard to imagine that hardly an hour ago she had been raging at him. He brushed the hair from her face, and felt a twinge of jealousy as he remembered that 'that bastard' (and Harry would forever remember him this way) had done the same thing. But he was gone now, and, if Harry had any say in it, he would never return.
He brushed the back of his hand against her cheek and his breath caught as he once again realized how horribly wrong things could have gone. This was also accompanied by the flutters in his stomach that he only seemed to get in her presence. He let out a long sigh and appreciated the simple beauty of her asleep and completely oblivious to the world. He'd been stupid not to talk her sooner, and if Luna hadn't shown up... well, he couldn't bear to think on it.
He realized that he could easily spend the rest of the night watching her sleep like this, and he most likely would. Even the small bit of drool that was forming at the corner of her lip was endearing, and Harry knew he was being ridiculous. He moved to pull the blanket over her, when the scent of her clothing hit him. It still reeked of the night's events - smoke, alcohol, and the all too memorable waves of nausea. Yet, for the life of him, he couldn't think of the proper cleaning charm to freshen her clothing. The only ones that came to mind were either meant to scour (and that was too harsh) or remove altogether (definitely not the time or place for a vanishing spell).
He delicately rummaged through the clothing she'd brought along. Unfortunately it appeared that what she was wearing were her sole bedclothes, and nothing else looked appropriately comfortable to sleep in.
Harry went to his room, sifted through his things, and returned with a large and well worn shirt of his own. It was maroon with a Golden Snitch printed on the front and "Seeker" on the back. It had actually been a gift from Ron quite a few years ago and even though it was stretched and had a few holes in it, Harry had been reluctant to give it up. He had spent a good many evenings relaxing in the common room in this shirt, and he'd come to regard it with a certain affinity.
He laid the shirt out on the bed next to her, took aim, then closed his eyes as he performed a switching spell on her clothing. He took a quick peek to make certain he'd done the job properly, then breathed a small sigh of relief that it had worked. He bundled up her clothing and threw it into the hotel laundry bin, then returned and tucked her in beneath the blankets.
He stared at her for a moment, then impulsively kissed her forehead.
"I'm so sorry," he whispered.
He went to his room and wearily changed into his own bedclothes, then went into the lavatory and found a small waste bin that he thought would be a good idea to have nearby, just in case. He also brought a damp washcloth back with him and gently dabbed her face clean. Then he grabbed an extra pillow from her bed and a spare blanket from the closet, transfigured the room's sole chair into a more comfortable chaise lounge and closed the doors to her room. He settled comfortably beneath the blanket and watched her sleep until he finally slept himself.
***
Fwoooom...
Fwoooom...
Fwoooom...
Hermione was assaulted by the early morning daylight streaming in through the french doors to her room. She tried to turn over and smother her head into the pillow when a fresh wave of nausea hit. She leaned over and tried to get up, when she spotted a waste bin placed strategically nearby. Taking unsteady aim, she let loose a few aching coughs, bringing up some small dribs and drabs. The mere effort exhausted her and she flopped back onto her bed, moaning.
Then she swore she heard someone cast a vanishing spell, and then there was something cool softly wiping her mouth. She tried to open her eyes again, but they felt glued shut. So she simply fell back asleep.
***
She was standing in a darkened room, and on either side she could see herself. The one on the left was wearing her school uniform, a shiny prefect badge glittering on her chest. The one on the right was wearing the tight and revealing outfit from the fashion magazine. Yet, she looked older somehow - weary.
"Where am I," she asked them.
"The crossroads," they answered in unison.
She looked around again, noting that there was nothing but blackness and the lights that illuminated her two other selves.
"I don't understand?"
"Well honestly, it's rather obvious isn't it?" The prefect was rather snobby.
"It is?" She felt completely lost.
"No, not really. But you're the smart one, aren't you. We'll give you a minute to figure it out, luv." The tart was a bit condescending.
"I'm sorry, but I don't know what I'm doing here."
"You're here to choose." The prefect gave an exasperated sigh. "That is why they call it the crossroads!"
"Choose what?"
"Me or her luv! Even I could figure that one out!" Then the tart hopped up on an unseen ledge, crossed her legs, and lit up a cigarette.
"Ugh! Put that out this instant!!"
The tart blew smoke towards the prefect. "Or what? You'll deduct house points? Give me a detention?"
"It's common courtesy! The least you could is show a little respect towards the rest of us!"
"Hmph... FINE!" She flicked the cigarette to the ground. "Preachy bloody prefect," she murmured as she stamped it out with her boot.
"What did you call me?!" The prefect marched over to the tart, who merely folded her arms up and stared defiantly at her.
"You heard me! Bloody Miss Perfect! It's a wonder no one likes you!"
"Take that back!" The prefect's face was purple with anger.
"What, a bit too true then?" The tart looked at her with malevolent triumph. "Couldn't get away from you fast enough, could they?"
"I've.. I've still got friends..."
"Ri-ight! But you haven't got him, have you?"
And in the distance, glowing like a beacon, was Harry.
The prefect took a step back, searching for something to say. Then she pointed a finger at the tart,
"But..., but you've not got him either!" Her voice was shaky, but there was confidence behind it.
"I don't need him! I've got him!" And she pointed behind her, where the stranger suddenly appeared and he grabbed her from behind and began nuzzling her neck. Her eyes rolled back and a greedy smile split her face as she leaned into him.
"But you don't love him!" The prefect was accusatory.
"Stupid little prefect! I don't need to love him! I don't need to love anybody! Don't you get it? This is what being a grown up is all about?"
The prefect was apoplectic.
"I'm an adult now. I can indulge any need I have, and I don't need you trying to ruin my fun!"
"But what will people think of you! How can you just debase yourself like that?!"
The stranger disappeared, as did Harry.
"Why is it debasement? Because I haven't crushed myself with feelings of love and guilt over wanting to be desired? I know the difference between lust and love, and wanting to give in to lust is not a criminal act!"
"But.. but that's just filthy!"
"Look at us. We tried love once, and it almost killed us. What's the harm in having a little fun?"
"You're perverted!"
"And you're repressed!"
And then the two of them promptly tried to kill one another.
The tart seemed to have the upper hand as she straddled the prefect and grabbed her hair.
"WHY NOT TRY MY WAY!?" She was yelling through gritted teeth while bashing the prefect's head into the ground. Then the two of them were blasted apart by Hermione's wand.
"Because we all deserve better than that." Hermione looked at the both of them. "It's not wrong to want to be with someone, but we're deluding ourselves if we think we want nothing more than physical satisfaction. We... I... deserve better than that!" She stepped towards them, then spoke to the prefect.
"You controlled everything I did for as long as I can remember. But, because of you, I lost what was most important to me. Because of you I convinced myself that Harry couldn't handle the thought of me loving him. And I waited... I waited until he was almost gone, and then I hit him with it when he was least able to cope, and we frightened him away."
"And you," she faced the tart, "you're my passion, the part I always kept suppressed. You fed on the hurt and self pity. It festered and you grew. But you've been denied for so long that it was inevitable that you'd need to escape, to feed your... my... baser needs. I can't deny that you're a part of me, and I promise not to utterly suppress you as I have been, but I can't let you take over. I can't allow myself to satisfy lust, forsaking sanity."
"HA! She chooses me! I knew she would!" The prefect grinned.
"No," Hermione corrected. "I choose both of you. Passion tempered by rationale. To choose one or the other would only be to deny a part of myself, and I've been doing that for far too long."
"But...," the tart looked nearly in tears, "but you can't... we can't love him again! It hurts too much! Don't make me do that!"
"I'm sorry... you know I'll always love him." Hermione hugged her. "A part of us will always love Harry. But if he doesn't love us, if he can't give us the love we deserve, I promise you one day we'll find someone who will."
Then the prefect joined them, and Hermione was whole.
***
Hermione smiled and kissed Harry once again.
"I'm dreaming, aren't I?"
"Yes," he kissed her, "but there's no harm in indulging yourself here."
She looked around and saw they were in a room quite similar to the Gryffindor dormitories.
"But I just told myself..."
"I know what you told yourself, but this is what I'm going to tell you. You know you're dreaming?"
She nodded.
"And when you wake up, you know you're going to have to face the consequences of what you've done."
She blushed.
"And so, knowing that there'll be a bit of unpleasantness ahead, and seeing as how you've already resolved your inner demons, not to mention fashion tragedies, don't you think you deserve a little happiness?"
She couldn't help but smile.
"Then let this part of you, this optimistic and hopeful part of you that can imagine and daydream, let it help soothe your transition from dreaming to reality."
And then he gave her a kiss that made her tingle all over.
And Hermione felt free to indulge herself just this once as they fell into bed.
***
Fwoooom...
Fwoooom...
Fwoooom...
Hermione squeezed her eyes tighter, trying to will the noise to go away.
Fwoooom...
Fwoooom...
Fwoooom...
Then she realized it was the throbbing of her head.
She didn't want to wake up. She'd been having the most spectacular dream that had left her flushed all over. She tried to fall back asleep, but the pounding in her head and the horrific taste in her mouth wouldn't let her alone. She tentatively opened one eye, then the other, and then regretted it.
From the light seeping in through the door, she guessed it had to be at least early afternoon. She tried to remember anything at all about how she'd ended up here, safely tucked in bed. The night was mostly a blur, but she had the horrible feeling that she'd done something...
...green eyes...
But they weren't Harry's. Who else did she know that had green eyes?
...ma petite chouchou...
That nasty man at the club. She'd jinxed him. But she'd never blatantly use magic in front of muggles... would she? It certainly felt as if she had.
,,,smoke and flashing lights...
That club! She'd been to that club! But they turned her away... her and Ginny...
'I'm sorry Ginny. Please forgive me.'
Oh MERLIN! She'd used the body bind on Ginny! What was she thinking?
And then more and more came back to her in bits and pieces. The clothing, the club, the brilliant green eyes of the sandy haired stranger... she blushed as thoughts of him came back... and then... Harry?
Had Harry been there?
She tried harder to remember, which was like grasping at smoke.
She'd been kissing the stranger, but she remembered being carried by Harry. What on earth had happened?
She tried to focus on Harry and the only thing that came to mind was her dream.
She blushed again.
'Right then! Coffee! Tea! Something strongly caffeinated and a hot shower would surely help me to remember something!' She sat up and threw the covers off of her, then gasped in astonishment.
These were not her bedclothes. This was not her shirt. And as she looked about the room and saw nothing but a mass of blankets on a chaise, apparently her sweatpants were completely non-existent.
That's when she noted the icon on the large maroon shirt she was wearing.
'Is that a snitch?'
And then, with a thrill of horror, she shakily got up from the bed and positioned herself in front of the small mirror atop her dresser. She pulled her hair forward to one side, then slowly turned around. At once she was both dreading and hoping at what would be there.
Seeker.
'Oh gods! What have I done?'
She instantly recognized the shirt. She'd spent many upon many nights gazing at it's occupant when she should have been studying for NEWTs. Why couldn't she remember?
'Because you drank like a grindylow last night!'
Why did she see herself wearing her prefect badge when she heard that voice?
'Okay, concentrate. What's the last thing I remember about last night? I remember... Harry was carrying me.' And a slightly giddy feeling ran through her. She looked down at her shirt again.
'There's no way! Certainly I'd remember something like THAT! And especially with Harry! Besides, he'd.... he'd still be here...'
Right then, not a remote possibility - she couldn't have, considering the condition she'd been in.
'Didn't stop you from snogging that man...'
She winced.
'Alright, calm down. Just take a moment here and think. What happened? I was upset because... well, a myriad number of reasons I suppose. Then Ginny and I got drunk. And then... did I tell Ginny why I was upset? I think I did.'
She paced the floor trying to piece it together.
'Right then, we drank something green. That I remember. And Luna! Ginny mentioned something about Luna. Luna and that club. I zapped Ginny, went to the club, must have done something to that awful fellow at the door... and then... URGH! What happened then?!'
Her head was pounding, and it wasn't just from the hangover.
'There was that man. I don't know who he was. Did he tell me? Did I ask?' She felt embarrassed as she realized she hadn't. 'Forget that bit then - there was him, and I guess we must have been kissing, because that part I certainly remember.' She rubbed at her lips, which seemed a bit more raw than usual.
'But where did Harry figure into the this? And how did I get back here?' She looked at the shirt again. 'Did he carry me, or did I imagine that bit?' And then she thought about her dream and kissing Harry, the lines between that and reality were blurring heavily.
She sighed. Apparently the only way to resolve this was going to be a direct confrontation with the parties involved. She imagined Ginny had a good portion of the evening's prologue, and Harry would have the dismal denouement.
'Time to face the firing squad,' she thought, as she went to change into something a little less embarrassing. She hoped to start with a long hot shower, so she reached for her bathrobe, then went to take off Harry's shirt. That's when she let out a startled shriek...
"ACK!"
...and grabbed for her jeans instead.
'OH GODS OH GODS OH GODS!' Hermione was in an absolute panic. She found the jeans she'd been wearing from earlier the night before, hastily put them on, then began pulling her clothes out from the dresser. She flung everything of hers she could find onto the bed, slipped on her trainers without bothering with the socks, and quickly transfigured the lot and stuffed it into her handbag.
She moved towards the door, then realized that any number of people could be in the living area. She'd have to leave from here. She wrapped herself tightly in her cloak and tried to concentrate on the Portkey station. Surely she could pop there and then find passage home. She simply couldn't stay here! She'd have to send an apology owl later, but right now, she didn't care how rude her actions might appear.
She focused, then tried to apparate and found she couldn't.
'I don't care how tired I am - I have got to get out of here!'
She tried again, squeezing her eyes tightly, which only spiked the pain in her head.
"Did you know that the rooms of most luxury hotels have anti-apparating wards?"
Hermione shrieked again as she clutched her chest in surprise, then staggered backward. Looking quite bleary underneath what she had thought was simply a mass of unused blankets, was Harry. His hair was more disheveled than usual and he looked almost amused.
"Honestly, am I the only one who's bothered to read 'Hotel Brochures: A History'?" He playfully teased her with his throaty and slightly groggy voice. He stretched then rubbed his face ('he's adorable first thing in the morning - STOP THAT!'). Then he reached for the nightstand and grabbed his glasses ('how did I not notice those sitting there?'), stood up, then put them on. He picked up a phial of blue liquid from the nightstand ('or THAT?), then shuffled towards her holding it out.
"Here, you'd best drink this." His eyes were half open, as if he were finding it rather difficult to stay awake. When she didn't move, he looked at her, concerned.
"Trust me, just drink this. You'll feel much better."
She hadn't realized she'd been holding her breath until she started seeing spots. Then she let out an immediate gasp for breath and Harry looked quite worried. He lightly grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards the bed.
"You're not looking too well. Maybe you should sit down."
She looked towards the bed in shock. "I'll... I mean... I'd prefer to stand..." Her voice was oddly strangled.
"Hermione," he was still quite concerned, "please, you're starting to worry me. Look, just drink this."
"What is it?"
"A hangover potion. Ginny dropped it off."
Hermione went pale.
"Don't worry - no one else knows what happened last night."
"Harry! I don't even know what happened last night! Not all of it anyway!"
"Ginny thought that might be the case - this should help with that as well. Go on." And he offered it again.
She was tentative, but grabbed the phial, uncapped it, then quickly downed the contents. After that, she really did need to sit, then lie down.
Before she felt any better she felt much, much worse.
First it was the icy feel of the liquid. It seeped the warm sickness from her body that made her throat burn and her head ache, but before she felt any benefit, she was assaulted by the images. It was almost as if she were watching herself in the third person as memories and events played out in quick succession. Drinking with Ginny... altering her appearance... arriving at the club... the gorgeous sandy haired man with the green eyes... the fabulous snogging with the gorgeous man... but then things became painfully slow.
And at that moment she knew... even if she had followed through on her intentions with that stranger... even if she had woken up in some strange bed somewhere... she would never, ever, regret it as much as what she had said to Harry in that alley.
The potion worked perfectly. Her headache and sickness were completely gone, her memories restored, and yet, she still had the most gut wrenching feeling in the pit of her stomach.
She sat up, then looked over at Harry, who was sitting next to her on the bed.
"Feeling better?" And the simple look of concern on his face, after what she'd done, brought her to tears.
"No... Hermione, please. Don't cry!" He looked mildly alarmed.
And the fact that he was still there, watching over her, caused her to cry even more.
"Oh no, look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you." And then he pulled her into a hug, which only made her sob harder. He sighed. Without any thoughts of a better plan, he just held her until she seemed to calm down. Then, she was oddly silent, so he held her, his chin perched atop her head, his hand smoothing absentminded circles on her back.
'Merlin, this feels good,' he thought. He'd not held Hermione since they'd been back in school, and just as before, he could feel those flutters in his stomach. He realized yet again how lucky he'd been to get to her in time, before she'd done something they'd probably both regret.
For a moment he thought he had lulled her back to sleep, until she mumbled something into his chest.
"What," he asked softly.
She turned her head, her cheek now resting on his chest.
"I can't...," she couldn't bear to look at him.
"Can't what?" His voice betrayed a hint of worry.
"I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am." More tears silently dripped from her cheeks.
He held her a little tighter, then used his hand to wipe some of her tears and gently tucked her hair behind her ear.
"What? For throwing up on me?" He felt her give a soft snort of laughter and place a hand against his chest. Then he smiled.
She waited another moment before speaking, reluctant to leave his embrace.
"Harry... I was so completely awful. To Ginny. To you!"
"Don't forget the Leg Locker you put on the bouncer," he joked.
She pulled back from him, alarmed.
"Oh no! I used magic on a muggle!!" She went pale. "I... I have to fix it! Oh gods! What if someone's already discovered him? I am going to be in so much trouble!" She was nearing a state of panic.
Harry couldn't help himself. He let out a small laugh and caught the infamous prefect glare. This was the Hermione he knew!
"This isn't funny Harry! I could lose my invitation to the Academy!!" She was standing now, her hands tightly clutching her cheeks.
"I'm sorry Hermione. I didn't mean to laugh. But don't worry, it's taken care of."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean I took care of it. I unjinxed him and did a little memory charm. Thinks he got flattened by some jealous boyfriend."
"But... I mean... when?"
"Last night, right before I, um, before I found you."
She seemed to relax a little. At least the fingernail marks were slowly disappearing from her cheeks.
"How exactly did you find me Harry? I know I didn't tell Ginny where I was going."
"Honestly Hermione, how much have you forgotten?" Then he pulled the chain from underneath his shirt and held up his ring.
She looked at it, astonished that he still had it, let alone wore it.
"I... I thought you'd stopped wearing it."
"Well, on my finger anyway. After about the second week on holiday I got tired of people asking if Ron was my 'partner'."
It was Hermione's turn to laugh.
"I picked up a chain from a local jeweler... I think it was somewhere outside Prague. Anyway, it was easier to keep it this way. It, um, kept me from using it when I probably shouldn't."
She looked as if she were about to ask him something, but he continued.
"You didn't really think I'd gotten rid of it, did you?" He looked a little surprised.
"Actually, I did," and she revisited her feelings of self doubt. "I mean, it's not as if you need it anymore. I already..., I mean, it already served it's purpose. Hardly much use now."
"Hermione," and he still looked surprised, "you made this for me. For us. I'd never get rid of it. Why would you think such a thing?"
She let out a loud sigh while thinking of where to begin.
"Look Harry, it's not as if you've given me any reason to think we still had much of a friendship over the past two months." Her voice was soft and without accusation. It seemed all the accusations and venom she had were spent last night.
He looked hurt, but let her continue.
"You have no idea what it's been like for me, and after everything I did and said to you last night, after how horrible I was, I can't imagine why you'd even want to know me anymore."
"Honestly Hermione, I have a pretty good idea of what you might be feeling right now."
She gave a small snort. "I find that fairly difficult to believe."
"Alright then, don't believe me?" He stood up. "Then let's give this a go." He almost took on a lecturing tone.
"You have a fairly emotional, nearly tragic and potentially embarrassing episode. But rather than having the good graces to do this in private, you manage to have this breakdown in front of your best friend. Although you might not readily admit it, someone who's opinion really matters to you. Someone you even happen to admire and respect in some ways. They've just collected you up after this embarrassing display, and you're feeling absolutely vulnerable, completely out of sorts. You're not only embarrassed because of this complete loss of emotional control, but you've managed, in all these years you've known this person, to keep these things under a tight rein. You've prided yourself on this ability to keep all these emotions in check. But, the one moment they manage to get the better of you, and in a monumental fashion no less, it happens to be in front of this person."
He took a breath.
"And so, now you're feeling something fairly close to humiliation. The last thing you want to do is have to face your friend again, because you have no idea how to act towards them. This person has seen you at your absolute worse, and you've no clue what to do about it. You try to think of what to say to them, but you find that, if the circumstances allow, it's just so much easier to avoid talking to them altogether until you absolutely have to."
She looked at him, absolutely astounded.
"You might even think that getting away for awhile, that maybe that will help you sort out what to say. But it doesn't, not really. It just makes that moment when you actually do encounter them again..., it just makes it that much harder."
Her mouth was open, locked in that expression of complete astonishment. He gave her a moment, then continued.
"Hermione... don't you understand? That's exactly what happened to me!"
"To you? What on earth are you talking about?"
Harry moved back towards the bed and sat down while issuing a long sigh. He rested his elbows on his knees, interlocked his fingers and found it difficult to look at her while he spoke.
"That night," his voice was soft. "The night we finally defeated Voldemort..."
"You defeated Voldemort." She corrected quietly.
"No Hermione," and he looked directly at her, "we defeated him. I could never have done what I did without you and Ron. I know I'd most likely be dead now had it not been for the two of you." She was silent and he continued.
"After I used that spell, the one that bound us all together, it... it was if everything good in my life, every good thing I'd ever shared with the two of you... I don't know how to explain it Hermione. It was your friendship and trust and loyalty... your belief in me... it was the best thing I'd ever felt. Ever! And I knew... I just knew the strength of that, of what you'd given me, was powerful enough to stop him."
"But then," and he dropped his head again. "But then when you found me..."
Hermione braced herself. Two months of waiting, and now she'd finally know.
"I was an absolute wreck Hermione. Every last bit of control I had was lost. All I remember," and she could see his face redden from where she stood, "was channeling every last bit of bottled up emotion I had ever had for my entire life into that crater. I knew he was dead Hermione. I was certain he was dead, but I didn't care. I wished I'd been able to kill him several times over after that. And when I was done... when I was done," he looked up again, his eyes shining, "you were there."
She felt her own tears rising again, and knelt down in front of him.
"Oh Harry..."
"You were there, and I... I must have seemed so utterly pathetic."
"Harry, I could never think that of you."
He swiped quickly at this face before continuing.
"And then you did that spell on me, to hide what I'd looked like. I never thanked you for that."
She couldn't stop herself from smoothing his hair back from his forehead.
"You never needed to thank me."
"But I did Hermione. I needed to tell you how much that meant to me, how much you meant to me, and everything else you'd ever done, but I couldn't." He sniffed.
"Don't you see. I couldn't bear to face you again because you'd seen me... you'd seen me like that. And I was so," he swallowed, "I was so humiliated by my behavior. And I was so stupid, because I let that stop me from talking to you, and I made you think... I never meant to hurt you Hermione. Please believe, that is the last thing I'd ever do." His hand drifted to her collarbone to where she'd shown him that scar from Dolohov's curse.
She covered his hand with hers.
"Oh Harry, I'm so sorry. I should never have said all those awful things to you."
"But you had every right... I hurt you, Hermione. And I know how much I hurt you, so I understand. I know why you said those things."
"Harry," she rose from her kneeling position, then sat next to him on the bed. "I just need to know," she swallowed hard and summoned all of her Gryffindor courage. "That night that I found you. Is what you've told me... is that all you remember?"
"I... yes." He looked a little confused. "I did the spell and then I guess I must have collapsed or something, because the next thing I recall is you being there and me vaporizing whatever was left of him." He furrowed his brow, trying to read her expression. "Why? Did something else happen?"
Hermione had to think long and hard on this. At once she was relieved to know the truth. He hadn't been as cruel as she had made him out to be. And now that she looked back on it, knowing the reality of the situation, she felt stupid for ever thinking he could be that unkind. This was Harry after all - still the same boy she knew. She never realized how much she had let her self doubt cloud her reason.
But he had asked her directly what had happened, and now she was more frightened than ever. In the last few moments they had managed to repair this rift between them, and she feared, if she told him the truth, if she told him she loved him, then she ran the risk of ruining everything they had just mended. Could she bear to lose him again?
"Hermione? What aren't you telling me?" He could almost read the conflict washing across her face.
She put her face into her hands. "Oh Merlin I've been stupid."
He put his hand on her shoulder. "Hermione, what is it?"
"All this time I thought... I thought you were cross with me."
"Why on earth would I be cross with you?"
"I said some things...," she looked at him. "When I found you Harry, you were completely catatonic. You'd defeated him, but you were vacant and I couldn't get you to respond at all."
"I.. I have no memory of that."
"It took a bit. I had to shake you and then..."
'Tell him already!'
"And then I yelled at you. Anything to get you to wake up."
'You bloody coward!'
"You have to understand, I thought I'd lost you. Nothing was working, and then, somehow, you came back." She held her breath, trying to gauge if he'd noticed her half-truth.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"What did you say?"
"What?"
"What did you say that would make you think I was cross with you?"
"Well, um..."
'Think of something!'
"I don't really remember exactly..."
'Brilliant!'
"You don't remember?"
"Not... um... not really."
His gaze was piercing her. She could almost feel his eyes boring into her head.
"It's... it's not really important now anyway..." She gave a lame smile, then broke eye contact with him, terrified he might be able to perform wandless leglimency. Not that he'd need to of course - he was excellent at reading her already. And she was hardly doing a stellar job of feigning aloofness.
"Hermione. It had to be fairly significant if you really thought it had ruined our friendship."
"Look, Harry! Do you really want to dredge this all up now?" 'Brilliant misdirection!' "After last night's unpleasantness, the last thing I want to do is bring up any more. I mean," she swallowed hard, "I was just... just so unbelievable awful to you. I don't know that I can ever be sorry enough for what I did."
"It's alright Hermione, and besides, I'm really the one who should be apologizing."
"No... no Harry." She couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt.
"But it's true. Because of some stupid pride I almost lost my best friend. And what's worse, I almost led her to do something stupid, again." There was a look of pained guilt in his eyes that she recognized all too well.
"Harry," her voice was soft, yet stern, "just stop right there. You have to understand, I was quite distraught last night, and to be completely honest, I wanted nothing more than to hurt you because I was so upset. And because I know you so well - because I know the burdens you've always carried with you - it was easy for me to do."
He didn't acknowledge her statement, but she realized he understood.
"And just because I said those vicious things to you... Harry... it's not..., it isn't what I feel. I knew what I was doing then. I knew the dangers of going to the Ministry, and I still went anyway. What happened to me was not your fault. And that spell to make these," she flashed her ring at him, "I did that not just for you, but for me and Ron as well. Because I knew Harry, I knew that if anything were to happen to either one of us, that you would find us. That you would find some way to save us if need be. Because that's what you've always done. Being a hero, it's intrinsic for you. And even when I thought it may have been reckless, it's something I've always admired in you."
He took her left hand in his, then turned her palm upward. The scar was still there, and his finger traced it lightly. Her pulse began to quicken at this soft gesture. Then he looked directly at her, and she could feel her heart race.
"Hermione," he said softly. "I never... ever... want to hurt you again." A blush consumed her and it took all her resolve not to kiss him then and there.
"Just promise me that if I ever do anything to upset you again, if I'm ever a prat like I've been these last few months, just promise me that you'll tell me. I don't always know when I'm being an absolute git, and if my best friend can't tell me, then who will?" He smiled at her and the butterflies in her stomach went berserk.
"I...," she found it a bit difficult to breathe, "I promise Harry."
"Because I don't want anything to come between us ever again." Much to his surprise, he was finding it increasingly difficult not to kiss her then and there.
"Neither do I." And she smiled, then hugged him. She hoped he couldn't feel her heart hammering against her chest.
He hugged her tightly, both glad and disappointed that the mild tension was broken.
"Right then, so let's spend the day together. Just you and me to make up for all this mess." And he could feel her nod in agreement. Then she stood and he was sorry to let her go.
She removed her cloak and kicked off her trainers, then began to unpack her handbag.
"Oh good, so you've decided not run away then." He joked, then flopped back onto her bed.
"I was not running away... I.. I simply needed to get away for a bit."
"With all your luggage."
She blushed.
"Look, Hermione, I understand. But at least I didn't run away - I just went on vacation," he teased.
"Harry," she turned to face him. "If you must know, when I woke up this morning, I had no intentions of 'running away'. In fact, I had every intention of taking a hot shower and talking to both you and Ginny to figure out what I'd done last night."
"And you needed your cloak and trainers to take a shower?"
"Well, no! Obviously not. It's just," and she blushed again. "Harry, how... how did I get into this?" And she tugged at the hem of his Quidditch shirt.
And then Harry blushed. "Oh Hermione, surely you didn't think..."
"I couldn't remember anything Harry - but then, when I thought it through, I figured nothing had happened and... look, just answer the question will you."
He gave a soft laugh, then propped himself up on his elbows.
"I brought you back here, transfigured your outfit back into your bedclothes, but then, when I went to put you to bed, well, the stench of 'club' was fairly prevalent on you. I couldn't think of a proper cleansing charm, and I couldn't find anything else of yours to sleep in. Ginny was already asleep, so I grabbed that shirt and did a switching spell."
"A switching spell! Of course!" There was no mistaking the look of relief on her face.
"Yeah, a switching spell." Harry was confused. She noted his expression and almost found it funny.
"A switching spell Harry," she explained. "You switched my clothing for your shirt."
"Well, yeah, I did," he answered, still not understanding.
"You switched my clothing Harry."
"Yeah..." he nodded his head, trying to prompt more of an explanation from her.
"All of my clothing Harry."
He blinked.
He blinked again.
Then comprehension dawned on him and a violent red blush washed across his face.
"So then my knickers would be where?" She enjoyed teasing him now.
"Um," he stammered, and she couldn't help but find it amusing. "They're, um, that is to say, all of your clothes are in the laundry bin." And then he grabbed a pillow and put it over his face, and Hermione had a good, long, genuine laugh - the first one in months.
***********
A/N - Oh good Lord I should be working. I should have been working during the last couple of hours instead of writing this, but sometimes, no matter how difficult it makes your life, you simply have to focus on what you want to do, rather than what you have to do.
Well, at any rate, I hope you enjoyed this chap. I had thought I could wrap it all up in this, but it was getting much too long (and maybe someday, when I have the luxury of time, I'll actually re-edit this sucker). So, one more go and we should be done with this - the world's longest songfic.
And I promise - this won't be like the other fic - this one will actually have a confrontation. Really! I just never realized how much baggage they'd have to divest to get there. Geez but they're a complicated lot!
:^)