Seeking Hermione's Bean
Title: Seeking Hermione's Bean (09)
Author name: Romulus Lupin
Author email: galigad@yahoo.com
Category: Romance
Sub Category: Humour
Keywords: Harry Hermione Bertie Botts Beans
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: SS/PS, CoS, PoA, GoF
Summary: Where was Harry Potter during the duel in the Gryffindor Common Room? Why is Filch standing
in a puddle of water? And is that Dumbledore and McGonagall in a broom closet?
DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
AUTHOR NOTES: I would like to thank the many people who left reviews and reminders to me to continue with this story. RL, combined with a massive writer's block as well as some interesting discussions at both the portkey forums and the H/Hr LJ community diverted me from focusing on this work.
My thanks to emma, mary6707, Frau_Sparrow, Sannihun, and everyone else who has posted a review.
And most especially to Jordan (pok) who provided the challenge which was the grain of this story, and to andie (pottergirl786) for the original inspiration that put this story on track.
Without further ado…
Chapter 9. Crash and Burn
Drained.
Emptied.
Hollow.
The aftershock of what she had done hit Hermione just minutes after she stormed out of the Gryffindor Common Room-slamming the portrait of the Fat Lady aside with such force that the venerable old lady was toppled from a sound sleep… shoving past a startled Ginny Weasley who took one look and ran for the Common Room… raging up and down the corridor outside before the adrenaline crash hit and she staggered, bracing herself against the wall for a moment before her knees gave out and she slid to a sitting position on the cold floor, pulling her knees up and hugging them even as her now-teary eyes let go.
She buried her head on her knees, soft whimpers escaping her throat, a memory from her third year echoing and re-echoing in her mind: "We attacked a teacher… We attacked a teacher… Oh, we're going to be in so much trouble-"
Except that she hadn't attacked a teacher.
She'd hexed a student.
Correction.
She'd hexed four students-all of them her year-mates, all of them her housemates.
Why?
Because she lost control.
She bit her lip at the thought; if there was one thing that would have radically changed her classmates' opinion of her…
`Books! And cleverness! There are more important things-' Her words to Harry in the chambers beneath the school. That was how she'd defined herself for Harry… even then, she'd kept part of herself hidden-simply because she'd been embarrassed at her loss of control just moments before when she'd hugged him so tightly, her fear of what he was about to face overcoming her iron will and control-
Control.
It was the one thing which truly defined her… the one thing that made her what she was, the only thing that had kept her sane and whole during her childhood in the face of the taunts and jeers of her primary school classmates-uneasy as they were with her eagerness and academic brilliance, her standoffish attitude towards sports and rough-housing, her seeming obsession with brushing properly after every meal…
To say nothing of the unexplainable things that happened around her-the bursts of accidental magic that left people wondering, trying to explain what had happened but, too often, shaking their heads and muttering under their breaths-
`You're scary, Hermione. Brilliant, but scary.'
Ron's awed voice intruded into her mind and she shook her head. She never told anyone, but those words had cut into her for a moment before being ruthlessly suppressed as she turned her mind back to the task on hand…
Control.
How were they to know that those very words had followed her around during her childhood, before she even knew about Hogwarts… before she even learned about magic as a real, living force… and she clenched her teeth as she remembered Ron's offhand remark as they left Charms in their first year… those painful, hurting words that told her that-no matter if she was in a school with others like her-she was definitely not like anybody else?
She'd lost control then-rushing away teary-eyed, bumping into Harry as she ran towards the girl's bathroom where she locked herself into a stall so she could cry her eyes out for hours on end… only to exit and come face to face with a mountain troll that should never have been inside the castle in the first place.
She'd totally lost it-screaming in sheer terror and unable to even think… everything she'd learned from her books and classes gone and she didn't know what to do except collapse against a wall, staring in wide-eyed horror as the troll came towards her, knocking the sinks off the wall with its club…
And then she heard Harry shouting-saw the troll turning away from her, felt Harry's hands as he tried to pull her away but she was frozen by fear, and she could only stare at him as he kept trying to pull her away…
She could only watch as Harry took a great running jump and landed on the back of the troll who'd turned on Ron… she'd sunk to the floor in shock as the troll tried to shake off Harry… any second now, the troll was going to rip him off or catch him a terrible blow with the club-
Control.
She'd been able to wrest her shattered emotions and exhausted wits about her when the troll fell, and she now covered her head with her hands in sheer embarrassment as the first words she'd uttered that night came back to her: "Is it-dead?"
Harry and Ron were still on an adrenaline high, she remembered-neither one took her up on her totally clueless remark. And then the professors were in the room… McGonagall berating the two boys for their foolishness… and she'd taken a deep breath and spoke up: "Please, Professor McGonagall-they were looking for me."
She'd faced McGonagall's wrath then and made a silent vow: she will never, ever, lose control again. She'd seen the effects of losing control-of letting her emotions loose, of allowing her passions and insecurities to take control of her life and actions and she didn't want a repeat of that…
And she'd been able to do so, in the months and years since… she'd been able to keep her head and her logic in place through everything that life had thrown at her and Harry-
She leaned back against the wall, a blank look in her eyes as she reminded herself that she had lost control time and again: throwing her arms around Harry as he told her that he may get lucky once again as he prepared to face Voldemort… walking all calm and composed into the Great Hall only to break out into a run and end in a bone-crushing hug with Harry in front of Ron and the whole student assembly… slapping Malfoy in third year as he sniggered at Hagrid breaking down over Buckbeak… screaming at Ron, furious at his insinuations that she had betrayed Harry by going to the ball with Viktor Krum… charging at Harry when he showed up at Grimmauld Place-
Control.
She'd been so proud of herself last year-exerting iron control over her emotions even as she bled with everything happening to Harry-and everything that was happening to her as she watched him dancing around Cho… holding her scathing tongue in check as he told them of what happened in the Room of Requirement with Cho… trying to be a consoling friend as he told her of the disaster that was his Valentine's date with the Ravenclaw seeker…
Her control had been on its thinnest thread when she'd tried to calm him down in his panicked need to get to the Ministry of Magic to save Sirius… but she'd been able to hold on… been able to come up with a foolhardy plan that had almost succeeded had it not been for the treacherous Kreacher and the vindictive toad-
Control.
She took a deep breath and let it out slowly-no need to go back over the events of that painful year. Her emotional control had been stretched to the breaking point time and time again that year, making her renew her vow to exercise iron control this year…
Only to have it all undone beneath the mistletoe when Harry's lips had brushed against hers and she felt something exploding within her… something grabbing her insides and melting her as fire raced through her veins… her mind screaming `Control yourself, control yourself!' even as her hands fisted in Harry's hair… felt his heated hands exploring her back as her hands ran through his silky hair…
Control.
They'd separated when their screaming lungs broke through their heated minds…
Control.
By unspoken agreement, they'd kept quiet about what happened beneath the mistletoe of Grimmauld Place… and she had exerted her iron will once again, smiling to herself every time he'd brushed her shoulder or placed an arm around her… grinning to herself as she leaned into his arm to rest her head against him even as she felt his lips on her hair… sticking her tongue out at him every time she caught him smiling at her…
Only to lose it again when she saw Dean Thomas' smirking face in the Common Room just minutes before-
She slammed the still-closed fist that was holding her wand on the floor-and gaped as she felt a wave of energy pass through her; looking up in time to see a red-hued burst of magic fly out and slam into the wall above an empty portrait.
She stared at the spot, trying to remember who normally occupied that space, wondering if the occupant was scrambling around the portraits, screaming bloody murder and trying to find a teacher or Professor McGonagall in order to turn her in…
She leaned back against the wall, the momentary surge of adrenaline fading away, and she dropped her wand… eyes glazing over before curling into a ball on the floor, a question ringing in her mind: "Where was Harry Potter?"
***
Rage.
If there was one thing Harry Potter had become intimately familiar with, it was rage.
Angry, white-hot, blinding, fuming rage.
It was an emotion he'd come to fear and loathe, because of everything that he associated with it, especially in the last year, the year that he'd taken to calling The Year of Rage-
… Hermione's fear when he lashed out at her and Ron, driving away the happiness from her face at finally seeing him, finally hugging him after weeks of exile at Privet Drive…
… Losing it and going after Malfoy, wanting nothing more than to cause as much pain as he could for the arse's provocation-ending with the old toad's triumphant sneer as she pronounced his lifetime Quidditch ban…
… Screaming in Hermione's face as she tried to reason with him, tried to deter him from his mad desire to rush to the Ministry to rescue Sirius-only to watch his godfather falling gracefully through the veil as Bellatrix Lestrange's triumphant scream echoed in his ears…
… His raw throat and wet cheeks as he destroyed Dumbledore's office because of everything that had happened-seeing Hermione falling to the floor, hearing Neville's screams while Bellatrix laughed, watching Ginny gritting her teeth as she hobbled on her broken ankle, Ron's pleas in his ears as the brains wrapped themselves around him-
Rage.
It was something he'd vowed to never let loose again… a promise made one sweat-drenched night alone in Privet Drive as he held the mirror his godfather gave him to keep in touch… a mirror that would have given him the assurances he needed if he had only remembered, if he had only learned to control his raging mind… the way he was able to when Lucius, Bellatrix and the rest had cornered them in the Department of Mysteries.
Rage.
It was an emotion he swore to control as he looked into Hermione's eyes last summer, searching for the slightest tinge of pain from the tight embrace he'd given her, forgetting that she'd been hurt so grievously because of him-catching the merest twinge in her beautiful eyes, overlaid as it was with the care and concern that she always showed him whenever they met up after a few weeks away from each other…
And he'd done it.
He'd been so proud of himself, in the weeks and months since. First with Snape, who'd continued his training in Occulumency, taunting and jeering until he'd been able to calm himself and block the greasy git's attempts to invade his mind; and then in school: rolling his eyes whenever Malfoy or his cronies tried to insult him or his friends, raising a quizzical eyebrow at Snape's snarky remarks in Potions, shaking his head at Colin Creevey's continuing efforts to document his life… he'd even been able to control his righteous anger at the Twins for having maneuvered Hermione and himself into that awkward situation beneath the mistletoe of Grimmauld Place…
Only to lose it all in the blink of an eye-
`Idiots!' he ground out, not noticing a suit of armor quivering in fear as he passed. `Prats! Gits! Who gave them the right to do that? And to Hermione!'
It was a litany he couldn't erase from his mind… a constant refrain that haunted every angry stride as he stormed away from Hagrid's hut as a stream of never-ending thoughts ran round and round his mind like Crookshanks chasing its tail as he strode around the lake, unwilling to return to his dormitory, knowing that the mere sight of his mates' possessions would trigger off the same rage that he'd vented in Dumbledore's office when he came back from the Department of Mysteries…
He wasn't aware of returning to the castle… never noticed students taking one look at him and scampering away in fright… so besotted by the fog of his rampaging emotions that he never saw he was on one of Hogwarts' moving staircases, uncaring that it shifted and changed direction as he climbed-
He suddenly stopped in the middle of the stairs, inhaling deeply and exhaling explosively, clenching and unclenching his fists, grimacing as his fervid mind replayed what he'd seen on the blackboard in Hagrid's hut: Dean's masterful drawing of himself and Hermione, holding hands and looking demurely at their feet, without a single stitch or even a fig leaf or four between them-
And Dean's wand jabbing at the region of Hermione's shapely thighs as he nattered on and on about some FECKING BEAN!
His eyes flew open even as his feet started climbing-wanting nothing more in that moment than to erase the memory of Dean and his wand from his mind-unaware of Mrs. Norris at the top of the stairs, staring haughtily at the approaching boy…
He looked up at that moment-and Mrs. Norris felt herself pierced by the heated glare of an angry Harry Potter, and the cat felt its back arching in fright… found itself stepping back as Harry continued climbing… felt a shiver of fear run down its back as its tail stood up straight as a flagpole before turning and bolting-
It was a sight that Argus Filch would forever want to forget: Mrs. Norris running like some whipped dog instead of the castle's mistress, howling piteously instead of facing whatever was coming with courage and fortitude…
The caretaker turned as he felt someone approaching, felt his eyes narrowing, lips curling as a single, hateful thought popped into his mind: "Potter!"-before he was impaled by twin eyes of adamantine green and he couldn't move, couldn't breath… couldn't even think…
Filch thought he heard Mrs. Norris whimpering as Harry Potter brushed past him, only to realize that the whimper was coming from his throat. He finally blinked and turned to scream at the retreating back, only to stop and wonder why he was standing in a puddle of water…
And realized that he'd wet himself.
***
She'd stopped grinding her teeth but was now biting her lip, her roiling mind playing and replaying the events in the Common Room, much like her tongue poking and probing at a loose tooth when she was younger… trying to find a logical and reasonable explanation for the sudden surge of anger that had possessed her at the sight of Dean's face and the sound of his cheerful greeting-
And admitted that there was nothing logical or inherently reasonable about her actions or reactions… it was pure rage.
Because, consciously or unconsciously… advertently or inadvertently… Dean Thomas and his friends had struck at the very core of her being… the one thing that she had always known but had allowed herself to forget…
She was no ravishing beauty.
Dean's drawing came to mind, and her hands clenched as she bit down on the howl of rage in her throat at having to confront that singular fact: there was nothing that would attract or even hold Harry Potter's attention for long.
Dean had shown her for what she truly was: lanky, gangly, awkward Hermione… all arms and legs and bushy brown hair and plain brown eyes…
She didn't have the voluptuousness of Lavender… nor the exotic duskiness of Parvati… the sensuous petite-ness of Ginny… the compact athleticism of Cho… all that she had were her brains and even that was hidden beneath the Medusan nightmare of her hair-besides, what was so attractive about brains in the first place?
Even Cindy and Carolyn knew it … they'd gone on and on about how she looked at Harry, with not one word about how she looked… focusing on her facial expressions and waving off comments about the rest of her body, probably because there was nothing there worthy of note or discussion…
And now Harry knew it too.
She angrily wiped the tears from her eyes as a sob escaped her throat, the memory of Harry's horror-stricken face coming to mind…
It was the last thing she saw before she turned away to drag Cindy and Carolyn away from their vantage point outside Hagrid's hut: Harry's shocked and frightened face as he stared at the blackboard… seeing for the first time the body beneath the school robes that kept it hidden, realizing that there was nothing he would want below her neck… nothing he would desire below her chin.
It was the exposure of what she'd kept hidden which made her snap… made her lose all control the moment she saw Dean's smirking face in the Common Room. Never mind how the bloody pervert found out… the mere fact that he'd shown her for what she was to Harry was all it took…
It was enough to make a grown woman cry.
***
Harry continued climbing, his mind fogged with rage as he walked towards whatever destination his feet-and the moving stairs of Hogwarts-seemed to be leading him to, his mind again going over the events in Hagrid's hut when he lifted his eyes and saw the drawing on Dean's blackboard-
He wasn't sure what happened-all he knew was that he was on his feet, the magical binds snapping with an audible sound-remembered seeing, for the briefest of moments, the drawings on the blackboard dropping their jaws in shock before the Hermione on the board leaped into his depiction's arms-a split second before a bright, white something hit the board, blasting it into pieces even as his dorm-mates were scrambling away…
All that he wanted, all that he needed at that moment was to get away… to escape the stifling hut, to forget those stupid, stupid gits who said they wanted to help but were only making fun of Hermione, his Hermione…
His lovely, wonderful, brilliant Hermione…
`Thank Merlin that Hermione doesn't have a clue' he thought. `She'd kill me if she thinks that I'm thinking of her that way. She's not some casual snog… she's my friend, my best friend who has been with me through everything… she's the one I've trusted to help me, the one I've confided in, the only one who's made me want to do better…'
A thousand images of Hermione flashed through his mind: Hermione in a pink bathrobe and a frown on her face… Hermione with a steely glint in her eye… Hermione's eyes shiny with tears… Hermione ignoring Krum… the look of shock on Hermione's face as he told her that Ron was the Prefect, not him… and the sexy, naked Hermione in Dean's drawing, looking demurely at her feet as she held hands with him…
He felt a hot wave of blood flowing down from the top of his head and rushing up from the soles of his feet to pool somewhere in the region of his pelvis as the image of Dean's drawing of Hermione danced in his mind-
ARRRRGGHHH!
He shook his head violently, shaking off the beads of sweat on his forehead as her lovely face and beautiful body formed in his mind.
He will not think of Hermione that way, he roared to himself-he will not dwell on her fair skin, her lovely curves, her beautiful brown hair, her rounded belly, her pinkish-
His fists clenched tightly as he shook-he will not think of her that way.
He. will. NOT.
It was bad enough that he'd been occupied with thoughts of her lips, her tongue, the perfect white teeth as his tongue brushed over them while seeking entrance to her throat that memorable night at Grimmauld Place…
Or the heat that exploded in his chest and spread through every part of his body as his fingers moved from her hair to her waist, from her waist to her back as he tried to get ever more nearer to her that night…
He shook his head, trying to dislodge those embarrassing thoughts-those were the thoughts, after all, which had started this whole mess in the first place!
And blinked as his mind registered his surroundings… his addled brain recognizing the Fat Lady in front of him, and he gaped as he saw her frightened eyes staring at him as if Sirius had come back to slash her portrait-
And heard a sniffle from somewhere down the corridor, followed by a soft sob echoing faintly from somewhere in the empty, hollow passage-
His feet were moving even before his brain could command them, his anger and rage draining away as if something within him had been unplugged, his eyes searching the corridor for the source of that sniffle and sob… he was running even before he spotted the figure slumped on the cold floor, knees drawn up and wild hair covering the face she'd buried in her hands…
***
She straightened up at the sound of clattering footsteps, hand automatically grabbing her wand and raising it, felt her mouth dropping at the sight of the last thing she wanted to see at that moment, but her mind broke down and she lost control of her rampaging emotions…
She found herself standing and trying to swipe away her tears even as her hand jammed her wand into her robes, all her thoughts of seconds or even minutes before erased as she heard his voice, full of worry and concern… her arms moving even as his arms wrapped around her and her hands were clutching tightly at his robes… felt his hands around her back as she buried her face into his chest while a fresh wave of tears broke out… heard herself whimpering, "Harry, oh Harry!" as his arms tightened around her…
He felt his face assaulted by her hair as he drew her closer, felt all the rage and fury he'd been nursing for what seemed like hours draining away into some dark corner of his soul, closed his burning eyes as his mind reeled with her unique scent… felt one hand running through her hair as his other hand traced comforting circles around her back-
He pulled her even tighter to him as he felt the tears soaking his chest, finally guiding her slowly to sit on the floor as he knelt in front of her-the position awkward as she didn't want to let go of his robes and he finally sat with his back to the wall as he pulled her to his lap, murmuring her name over and over as his hands traced soft circles on her back, all thoughts focused on the crying witch in his arms…
***
"I thought you said that Harry was exercising better control over his emotions, Albus." The words slipped out and Minerva McGonagall bent her flushed face, unable to bite back the censure in her tone.
"He does, Minerva… but then again," she turned to the Headmaster, frowning as she heard the evident pain in his voice, "he is a young man, no matter what we want him to be."
The old man paused for a second before continuing, "Lapses are to be expected."
Their eyes locked for a brief moment, and McGonagall's quiet voice broke the silence, "Especially when Hermione Granger's involved."
"Indeed."
Silently the Headmaster and his Deputy entered the castle, wrapped comfortably in the understanding of old friends and trusted colleagues. They began climbing one of Hogwarts innumerable stairs, their minds wandering back over the pleasant time they'd spent having tea in Hagrid's hut when the Gryffindors had left and Dumbledore overruled her stated intent to go look for Harry, saying that the boy needed time to himself…
It was over an hour spent in alternate laughter and pensive silence as they shared memories and thoughts… Hagrid and Dumbledore laughing as she narrated once again the time she'd caught the two coming down from the Astronomy Tower in their first year… silence as she spoke of the moment when she had to show Hermione's Petrified form to Harry… heads shaking in wonder at Hermione's strength of character when she told McGonagall of the Firebolt Harry had received… tears at Hermione's face full of fingernail marks where she'd clutched it in fear… silence once again as the words faltered when their memories brought back Harry's fifth year at school…
It was at that point that Minerva decided to head back to the castle and her office; vaguely, she had some thought of asking the house-elves to check and make sure that Harry hadn't destroyed his dormitory in his righteous anger at his friends-and she'd startled Hagrid and Dumbledore when she couldn't hold back the bark of laughter that possessed her as she remembered the drawing that Dean had rendered…
They paused for a moment at the top of the stairs, frowning at an energetic Filch who was mopping away furiously at a single spot on the floor, muttering continuously under his breath. The Headmaster and his Deputy exchanged a look; with a shrug, they quietly passed the caretaker without comment and headed for the next set of stairs.
"Are you sure Harry's all right, Albus?"
"I hope so, Minerva." She turned to him in surprise, and saw Dumbledore's sad, wistful smile. The old man continued before she could respond, "He's learned so much during these past months but," a soft sigh, "as I said-he is still a young man. And when it comes to protecting those he loves…"
She nodded at that, and allowed her worry to show through: "I do hope he's cooled down by now; I would hate to think what he's capable of if he allows his temper to get the better of him."
"I think he knows, Minerva," Dumbledore responded softly, his eyes defocused for a moment as he remembered his wrecked office when Harry's anger was unleashed. "Hopefully, his dorm-mates were able to avoid him … or Miss Weasley was able to talk with him-"
"I know," the Deputy Headmistress whispered softly, her mind suddenly locked on an enraged Harry Potter as he sank his fist into a sneering Draco Malfoy's stomach during the Quidditch match last year, followed by a flurry of punches and kicks which left the whimpering Slytherin on the ground in pain. She'd been too far away to do something about it-and that had fueled her anger as she left the stands to go to her office and meet them…
She shook her head at the memory of what followed. She'd been about to-in the quaint language of her younger acquaintances-tear Harry and the Weasley Twins a new arsehole when the simpering toad strode into her office, interrupting her and pronouncing a lifetime Quidditch ban on her team's Seeker and Beaters…
But who was she to judge? She'd been as enraged when she'd seen the toad and her flunkies attacking Hagrid and she'd run out to stop them without thinking to even grab her wand, bent only on protecting the gentle half-giant who was and will always be a dear friend-and had thus walked into four Stunners unleashed by Umbridge's stooges without a means to defend herself-
She felt a gentle hand on her shoulder and looked into the Headmaster's now grave and saddened eyes. A deep breath to control her emotions; a silent nod to her mentor, superior and friend… and they turned back to the stairs.
***
Hermione's tears had subsided to quiet sniffles and broken sobs, her head still buried in Harry's chest as he continued to run comforting hands up and down her back while he whispered, "It's all right, Hermione… I'm here now, it's all right…"
She shifted in his lap and he bit his lip-Hermione may be smaller than he was, but six years of Hogwarts' food and the constant walking around the castle-to say nothing of the bag of books she constantly toted-had created a trim and tightly muscled package that was cutting off the blood flow to his feet…
Worse, having Hermione's arms around him as she sat on his lap triggered off unwanted images in his still reeling brain… Dean's drawing interspersed with the mistletoe in Grimmauld Place as well as other deeply buried and never acknowledged dreams of his best friend… it was causing the blood in his head to flow down south where it was blocked by the weight on his lap and seemed to be pooling in his-
Umbridge in a bikini, Umbridge in a bikini-that's the ticket, he thought as he felt himself calming down-and groaned as his traitorous brain wiped the appalling image from his mind, replacing it with a picture of Hermione in a purple thong-
Snape in a bikini, Snape in a bikini-EWWWW!
He screwed his eyes tightly even as he bit down on his lip, the horrendous picture making him want to throw up-and his ever-helpful brain, honed by months of Occulumency practice, quickly formed an image of Hermione in a purple bikini throwing hexes at the bikinied Snape-
And felt an explosive exhalation leave his lungs as Hermione shifted in his lap… felt the tingle in his legs as the interrupted blood flow finally made its way down to his feet… bit off the sigh of relief as Hermione's weight eased even as he realized that she still had her head in his chest, her hands still clutching at his robes... and froze as her muffled voice broke: "Oh, Harry… what am I going to do about you?"
He tried to pull away but she only clutched tighter at his robes; he placed his hands on her shoulders in an effort to push her away so he could look at her face, but she only buried her head deeper in his robes…
"I thought you lo-trusted me, Harry…"
Before his suddenly dry throat could work up a response, Hermione was on him: tears streaming down her face as she hit his chest with her small fists, mumbling distractedly, "You should have told me, Harry… you know I would do anything for you, don't you? We've been friends for so long… you're my dearest, dearest friend… I would do anything for you…"
"Hermione!"
But she wasn't listening as she continued to mumble, "Did you have to go and tell Dean about it when you could have talked to me… you should have talked to me, Harry… you know I would have done anything for you… You didn't have to go to Dean and the others if all you needed was… was…"
With a force that he never thought he would have to use on her, Harry wrenched the distraught Hermione from his chest; the latter dropped her hands and turned away from him but he wouldn't have it, he wouldn't let her turn away from him…
With a trembling hand, he turned her face towards him but she kept her eyes away from him as he spoke, "What are you talking about, Hermione?"
His mind snapped when she turned her sad and weary eyes on him, and murmured, "Hermione's bean, Harry?"
***
They were about to climb another set of stairs when Minerva McGonagall stopped, a confused look on her face as she realized that they were not heading for Dumbledore's office but were, in fact, climbing the stairs leading to Gryffindor Tower. Ahead of her, Dumbledore turned, the unmistakable twinkle in his eyes tinged with a look of infinite regret.
"There are times, Professor McGonagall," Dumbledore said in a soft voice, "that one should forget being the Headmaster or Deputy Headmistress… and simply be the Head of Gryffindor House."
It took a moment before she could close her mouth, a long moment before she realized that her superior wasn't reprimanding her but was speaking for both of them and her mind-and she was sure, his-was ranging back over the previous school year, allowing the regrets over sins of omission and commission to wash over them.
It was true, McGonagall thought… It was too easy to justify their seeming neglect of Harry for much of his fifth year by claiming their responsibilities to the Order and to the school as a whole, especially given the interference of Fudge and his simpering toad-but there were ways around that…
And Dumbledore's regretful tone struck a chord within her: she may be the Deputy Headmistress, and as such beholden to the Wizarding Government… but she was, first and foremost, a Gryffindor-it was her duty to watch and protect the children Sorted into her House. It was all well and good to claim impartiality-but when did her responsibilities as Head of House begin-and her task as Deputy Headmistress end?
She should have given Harry more time, she thought, instead of rationalizing away her seeming inaction by claiming that the school needed her-when one of her own Gryffindors needed her more…
She would not make the same mistake again.
With a slight nod, they again started ascending the stairs-only to stop in their tracks as a feral roar echoed from the corridor above them, a roar that made them look at each other in sudden fear for the lives of four Gryffindor boys: "I'll kill them!"
***
It was Harry's rage that snapped Hermione out of her funk-and made her realize what she'd said. She'd been so bewildered from everything that happened that day that she'd once again let her control slip and allowed her emotional, untamed mind full play… she was probably channelling Hagrid at the same time because she'd let slip the one thing she didn't want Harry to know that she knew…
And she would be paying the consequences unless she did something now!
Without conscious thought, she whipped out her wand and pointed it at Harry; her brain went into overdrive, running through the hexes, curses and charms she could use to stop Harry from charging the Common Room and laying waste to its inhabitants: everything from the Full Body Bind that she'd used on Neville in First Year to those she'd used in the battle at the Ministry, but her bothered mind grabbed at the charm she'd taught him, coached him, tutored him in until two o'clock in the morning and she screamed-"ACCIO HARRY!"
And gaped as the charm hit-and hurtled him back towards her…
***
McGonagall charged up the remaining steps and was on the corridor in seconds, wand out and ready to stop Harry-but froze at the sight that greeted her: an entangled couple on the floor, the person underneath undoubtedly female because of the skirt and exposed legs spread out on the floor while the person on top and between those legs was undoubtedly Harry Potter from the untamed hair that she could see…
She had barely opened her mouth when she felt herself being pulled off her feet and literally thrown into a dark room, the person who'd done so following her so quickly that she hadn't even closed her mouth from her earlier attempt-
A hand was on her shoulder and she immediately calmed down, remembering that Dumbledore was with her; she blinked in the darkness as he felt him moving around the small space-wand movements and murmured words, she realized: a Silencing Charm around the room, a brief incantation to make the confined space less stifling, and finally, the wand in the old Wizard's hand lit up and she realized that she was in a broom closet…
Again she opened her mouth but quickly shut it at the sight of the Headmaster's piercing blue eyes, a finger over his mouth commanding silence and she complied; forcing a deep and calming breath into her lungs, and stepping beside Dumbledore, who had extinguished the light from his wand and was now cautiously opening the door and peeking out…
***
"Hermione! Hermione!"
He'd rolled away from his flattened best friend and was on his knees beside her, fighting down the panic at seeing her knocked out, once again cursing his blind rage for making him act without thinking things through… learning that Hermione knew had re-triggered the anger he thought had disappeared when he realized that the sobbing in the corridor was coming from her… he'd thought his rage had passed as he held her in his arms, but all it took was her teary eyes and woeful expression as she revealed her knowledge of his secret that let the rage loose-anger that his roommates had blabbed about his secret… fury at their misplaced concern and gutter-minded little heads that led to that FECKING drawing in Hagrid's hut which led to his blind rage which brought about…
A whine of panic inside his head was preventing him thinking properly: he had one hand on Hermione's shoulder, which was still warm, yet did not dare look at her properly. Don't let her be dead, don't let her be dead, it's my fault if she's dead…
He shook the painful memory off and grabbed her wrist even as his other hand was stroking her hair… the beat of her pulse in his hand made him release a sigh of infinite relief… he let go of her wrist and grabbed his wand, trying to think of a spell, a charm, something to wake her up, cursing himself for not ever asking about healing charms or spells to revive her, waving his wand uselessly in the air…
Felt a soft whoosh of air passing him that his mind somehow grasped was a surge of magic, realized that Hermione's face was blurry from his tears and his missing glasses-knocked off when he'd slammed into her at full force from her Summoning Charm-and placed his face closer to her to see if the magic he'd somehow called upon had worked…
A tidal wave of relief passed through him as the brown eyes that he'd grown to love snapped open and blinked just inches from his own, and he was pulling her up even as he sat on the floor in relief, wrapping his arms around her as he buried his face in her wild, bushy hair, rocking her slowly in relief as he kept murmuring, "You're alright, thank God you're alright, I can't take it if something happens to you… I can't take it…"
Hermione's head was spinning and light… she vaguely remembered hitting her head as Harry crashed into her, felt her mind go black for the briefest of moments before something seemed to have energized her and she opened her eyes to the most beautiful shade of green that she could ever remember-realizing in the same instant that it was Harry's eyes so close to hers, his warm, rapid breath touching her lips for a moment before she felt herself being pulled up and his arms were again wrapping around her…
Felt her head resting on his shoulder and she let out a sigh of utter contentment at being in the comforting circle of his arms, felt herself melting at the warmth of his body against hers and the hands running up and down her back… realized that Harry was saying something… finally forcing herself to listen even as her arms went around him…
And the situation was reversed: she was the one comforting Harry, murmuring soothing words in his ear as she comforted him, running her hands gently up and down his back …
But her practical mind stepped in and she carefully placed her hands on his shoulders-feeling a loss as he dropped his arms and tried to move away. She looked into his face but he was turning away but she wouldn't have it. She placed her hands on his face and gently forced him to look at her…
She felt her breathing hitch for a second when she saw his pained and tortured eyes looking at her but she wouldn't let go as she spoke in a soft, almost crooning voice: "I'm all right, Harry… I'm all right, see? I'm here, Harry, don't worry…"
Watched as a brilliant spark shone briefly in his tortured eyes but she held on to his gaze; gave a tremulous smile as she felt his hands rubbing slowly up her arms… shivered as she felt the hands roam gently up her shoulders and neck and realized that he was checking her for injuries… felt herself tingling as the hands flowed through her hair and-
"OWWW!" She scrunched her eyes closed as his fingers gingerly touched a largish bump at the back of her head-and flew open as he murmured softly, in a pitch-perfect imitation of Viktor Krum: "You haff a lumf in your hair, Herm-own-ninny."
She broke off her icy glare when she saw the glint of humor in his eyes fade as he turned away, felt herself turning his head back to look in his eyes as she whispered, "It's all right, Harry-nothing that a cold pack can't cure…"
She frowned as she realized that he was refusing to look at her, but blinked as she realized that his wand was up and moving as he murmured something beneath his breath… felt her jaw drop as he whispered, "Oh SHITE!" in an angry voice-turned to where he was looking at and giggled as she saw a large block of ice behind her. Before she could say anything, he'd waved his wand again and the block of ice vanished… another wave and she saw an ice pack floating in the air behind her.
Before she could ask, she felt Harry's hand pushing her head gently on his shoulder, to be followed a second later by a cool, cold sensation as he lightly ran the ice pack over her head. She gave a sigh of contentment and relief as he gently pressed it on the bump on her head, felt her arms wrapping around him even as his other arm steadied her… allowed herself to slump against his chest, closed her eyes with her ear pressed against his beating chest, and surrendered herself to the ministrations of her dearest friend.
***
Minerva McGonagall fidgeted, not being able to see anything outside the broom closet where Dumbledore had thrown her before diving in himself. He blocked her view of the corridor, standing as he was at the crack he'd opened in the door and she wondered-and worried-about what was going on out there.
She watched her old friend take careful aim with his wand out the door and murmur a healing charm, and something clicked in her mind: Hermione screaming `ACCIO HARRY!' just moments before she'd cleared the stairs and shoved into the closet. Hermione must have Summoned Harry, she thought, but-given the power she put into it and the probably short distance she was from Harry… it was more than likely that Hermione had tried to catch a flying Harry and crashed to the floor-
And that explained the image that was now seared on her brain: a spread-eagled Hermione on the floor with Harry Potter on top of her. She felt a wave of shame wash through her at what she thought she'd seen-
She shook herself and tried to lessen her guilty feelings, thinking, `Well, why shouldn't I be thinking of it? After everything that they've been through together…' and an errant memory from the previous school year walked through her mind: Harry Potter in her office as she told him off for antagonizing Fudge's Toad in their DADA class, and his answer when she'd asked him if he'd been listening to Umbridge's words during the welcoming speech.
She smiled at Harry's response to her question, and shook her head at her words to him: "Well, I'm glad you listen to Hermione Granger at any rate."
He would have done better if he'd only listened to Hermione more, but then again… boys will be boys. She glanced at the profile of her old friend, highlighted by the light from the crack that he was peering through and rolled her eyes at the twinkle she could see in his eyes. `Boys!' she thought… they never seem to grow up-
She felt her eyes go wide as her ears picked up a sound from the corridor… felt her brain stop as she recognized-a moan? And was that moaning in… in… Hermione's voice? She tried to sharpen her hearing as the sound came again, and there was no longer any doubt: "Ohhh… yes… right there… ummmm… that's good, Harry, that's very, very good… yessss…"
`You DIRTY OLD MAN-' She gaped at a madly grinning Dumbledore who was still peering out the door and shoved him away; she was about to burst out of the closet when her eyes focused and she found herself frozen, torn between melting into a puddle of emotional goo and embarrassment at her dirty mind at the sight she saw: Harry sitting on the floor with one arm around Hermione, the latter's head resting on his shoulder, Harry's other hand gently holding an icepack against Hermione's head… Hermione's face a study in pure bliss and contentment at being tended so lovingly…
She heard a snort beside her and tried to glare at the amused Headmaster sharing the closet with her; but she knew that the force of her legendary stare was diluted by the tears in her eyes at that so loving and so touching a scene, and she contented herself with a small sniff…
They look so good together, she thought as she looked at the scene once again, her heart singing at the oh-so-obvious care, affection and concern that Harry was showing his Hermione-`Did I just say his Hermione?" she thought. She shrugged to herself as she shook her head-"So? They're bonded far more closely than James and Lily were at that age… Uh-oh!"
Hermione's hand had reached out behind her and touched the ice bag on her head as she leaned back, breaking away from Harry's embrace; Harry had, without a word, leaned away from her and moved back slightly. She smiled at him and mouthed a quiet "Thank you" but continued looking into his face, a question in her eyes.
McGonagall held her breath as she watched the two teens staring at each other, their bodies slowly leaning forward, their eyes never once breaking away from each other. There was only one ending to this and she was torn between closing the door on what was about to happen, and bursting out of her hiding place to stop those two hot-blooded teens from snogging in the corridor. She would have to take points off both of them if she did, she thought, to say nothing of pronouncing detention on both-an action guaranteed to spread around Hogwarts with the speed of light, which would expose the young couple out there to teasing and ridicule, to say nothing of painting a large, glowing target on Hermione Granger's back…
Before she could make a move one way or another, a muffled shout of "MRS. NORRIS!" echoed in the corridor and she couldn't help a smirk as she watched the couple outside freeze and look around wildly for escape. The smirk turned into a look of horror as she realized that the two may decide to hide here-the same closet that she was sharing with the Headmaster!-and she couldn't imagine the kind of scandal that would erupt if it ever came out that she and Dumbledore were found in one of Hogwarts' infamous broom closets!
She held her breath as she saw Harry pull Hermione up beside him, frowned as the latter gestured with her wand and summoned Harry's glasses from wherever they had fallen, and heaved a gigantic sigh of relief as Harry put on his glasses, gave a quick look around, and swept up Hermione in his arms before walking briskly towards a staircase which had conveniently moved into position a few yards away from where they were.
She leaned back against the wall of the closet as her tension bled away; she deserved some rest after what she had just gone through, after all. After a few seconds, she pulled herself up and started assuming the icy demeanor and stiff posture of her persona as Deputy Headmistress-and froze once again she heard the raspy voice of an annoyed Argus Filch outside the door: "Mrs. Norris! If ye're in there, ye'd better come out right now-I don't wanna catch you playing around with that Granger's cat-"
`SHIT!' she thought-the imprecation fitting her current situation perfectly, never mind that it was a word that she would never ever have uttered before-she could see the headlines right now: "HOGWARTS' SNOGWARTS: Headmaster and Deputy found snogging in broom closet… Fudge pronounces detention on amorous couple…"
She felt a sharp rap on the head, followed by the cold sensation of an egg flowing down her body and she realized that Dumbledore had Disillusioned her; before she could say a word, the door was flung open and she blinked her eyes against the light that flooded in, avoiding the cold, ruthless eyes of the caretaker who was raking every corner of the broom closet in his search for his missing cat.
She forced herself to hold still, knowing that Disillusioning did not make one totally invisible but simply matched oneself to the surroundings; nearly screamed as Filch reached a hand out as if he were about to go through the brooms, mops and other supplies in the place but the caretaker stopped as she felt a slight tingle of magic-a small Repelling Charm, she thought-before he pulled back and closed the door on them.
She was about to heave a sigh of relief when she heard the lock click and her mouth fell open for a second before remembering that she was a fully-qualified witch of long experience whose second-best subject had been Charms…
She decided that it would be best to stay put for a while longer, until she could be sure that the caretaker had left the vicinity-a thought quickly dashed by the sound of the dinner bell ringing, quickly followed by the stampede of many feet as the Gryffindors rushed out to their meal…
Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a soft cough to one side, followed by a sharp rap on the head and the sensation of something hot trickling down her back and knew that Dumbledore had ended the Disillusionment Charm-and blinked at the Headmaster's amused voice in the dark: "Ah, Minerva… I would never have expected the lengths you'd go to just to get me into a broom closet."
"WHA-" Her scream of indignation was abruptly cut off by the sound of a snicker from the Headmaster; before she could compose herself, however, the old man continued-and she had no doubt that his eyes would be twinkling madly by now-"Alas, I must confess that while my spirit is more than willing, the flesh is unfortunately too weak."
She was about to hex the old man right then but the humour of their situation caught up with her, and she forced down the giggle that was about to erupt from her throat. After a few moments to compose herself, she spoke in as seductive a voice as she could muster, "And what will you say, my dear Bumblebee, if I told you that I'm more than willing to see how `weak' your flesh really is?"
She punctuated this by transforming into her Animagus form without touching her robes-the move ensuring that her clothes would rustle as they fell to the floor. She immediately transformed back into her clothes, an evil smirk on her face as she heard a distinct gulp followed by Dumbledore saying in a higher-pitched voice, "Professor McGonagall! Surely you jest-"
"And why should I jest, Albus?" She started walking deliberately towards the voice, adding in a low, sultry voice, "And don't call me Shirley."
She was rewarded with the clatter of mops and pails falling as Dumbledore backed into them; with a girlish giggle that was so unlike her, she raised her wand and proclaimed, "LUMOS!"
And collapsed on the floor, laughing at the sight before her: a wide-eyed, wild-eyed Albus Dumbledore crouching on the floor, looking for all the world like a cornered man about to fight the battle of his life-
For a long moment, the old man looked at her, bewildered at the turn of events but soon enough, a broad grin broke out on his weathered face and he chuckled softly at how his feisty Deputy had so quickly turned the tables on him. He watched with amusement as McGonagall finally stopped laughing and pulled herself together; with a grin, he reached out and pulled her to her feet.
A few moments of intent concentration and he waved his wand at the door, which clicked open to reveal a silent and empty corridor. With a short bow, the Headmaster gestured his Deputy to go ahead of him; with a regal nod broken only by a smile, Professor Minerva McGonagall stepped out to wait for her escort in the corridor.
They spent a few moments just looking at each other, snorting as they tried to control their laughter and then, with a simultaneous shake of their heads, they proceeded arm-in-arm down the corridor for the stairs that would lead them to the Great Hall and dinner.
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