It's All Relative

It’s All Relative

This was all so surreal.

A few more months and Hermione would have been leaving Hogwarts as its most successful student in fifty years. Her head of house, Professor McGonagall, had already hinted that she was confident in Hermione’s abilities to equal the success she’d had with her O.W.L.s when it came time for her N.E.W.T.s. Hermione couldn’t suppress a smile as she recalled her conversation with the woman who had in effect become her mentor over the past seven years. McGonagall had practically been salivating at the idea that a Gryffindor may finally break the record set not so long ago by a certain Slytherin who himself had spent much time in the study of magic’s more elusive qualities.

Alas, some dreams are not meant to be realized. Just ask her parents. Ask Sirius. Or how about asking James and Lily Potter. All in all, she felt she was getting off lightly.

As her seventh year had progressed, Hermione had asserted herself in the fight against Voldemort. Her parents’ deaths during her sixth year had been a turning point for her. Fear was no longer a valid excuse, and inaction was no longer an option.

She received permission from the Headmaster to start up the D.A. again, under Harry’s leadership, of course. She had recruited many new members, even some from Slytherin, now that the existence of the club was sanctioned by the school. Of course, one of the requirements of joining the group was that each member learn to say "Voldemort" and be willing to discuss the dark lord’s tactics in detail. This left some parents more than a little uncomfortable.

Hermione had also stepped up progress on S.P.E.W. by writing several strongly worded letters to the editor of the Daily Prophet and the Quibbler with regard to the Ministry’s poor treatment of house elves, werewolves, giants, and goblins. Her declaration that all creatures, magical and non-magical, human and non-human, should be treated with equal respect had hit the wizarding world with a dull thud. Most people, including select members of the Order of the Phoenix, felt that Hermione had chosen the wrong time to bring up sensitive issues.

To top it off, Hermione had given an interview to one of the reporters from the Quibbler (with Luna Lovegood’s help) regarding her parents’ murder. She went into great detail about what had happened to them and did not hide her suspicions about the involvement of known death eaters such as Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix Lestrange, and Antonin Dolohov. She named names and questioned the loyalties of certain death eaters’ children who themselves had reached the age of majority and were currently students at Hogwarts. Children like Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle.

None of this had gone over well. She knew she was stirring things up, but she had thought that Dumbledore would be able to insulate her from the worst of the fallout long enough for her to finish school. Unfortunately, she had underestimated the wizarding world’s mistrust of muggleborns. Given the option of standing up for muggleborns, house elves, and the survival of muggles versus protecting themselves and their own families, most wizards and witches had balked at standing up to Voldemort. They sent their children to Hogwarts because it was the safest place for them. The last thing they needed was a loud-mouthed muggleborn making You-Know-Who angrier than he already was. No. It was much safer to remove the subversive. Her expulsion papers were delivered to Hermione, and copied to the Headmaster, by owl.

Dumbledore had done his best for her, but she understood that now was not the time for the Headmaster to lose his job. It was far more important for Dumbledore to be at Hogwarts, where he could protect the student population and continue to oversee Harry’s training. In the end, she was reduced to bargaining with the authorities in order to ensure that the rest of the muggleborns at Hogwarts could stay, at least long enough to complete the current school year. It was a relief. On top of everything else, she did not need to feel guilty about getting the rest of them expelled because of her own beliefs.

Still, her expulsion was going to cause her some pain. The worst of it resulted from a relationship she couldn’t even explain.

She would miss all of her friends — all of the seventh year Gryffindors, Ginny, and a handful of other acquaintances that she had worked closely with in some of her classes. She would miss Hagrid and Professor McGonagall. But she dare not dwell too much on Harry and Ron — her boys, as the rest of Gryffindor referred to them.

If anyone had told her on that first train ride to Hogwarts that she would end up best friends with the red-haired boy who had dirt on his nose, she would have laughed in their face. She and Ron were diametric opposites in so many ways. But over the years, she found a comfort in his presence that she couldn’t find anywhere else. He was protective of her — well, they both were — and despite her independent nature, she was grateful for it. He was fiercely loyal, which she appreciated more on Harry’s behalf. Her famed battles with Ron over his work habits, his eating habits, his apathetic way of dealing with things had lessened over the years, as Ron matured. In all honesty, Hermione knew that it was also a result of her maturity. Her need to be right had faded as she got older, especially in light of the horrors going on around them. By the time her parents were killed, she didn’t rightly care about circumventing the rules, and when she did nag Ron to study, which was much less often, it was only because she knew he wanted her to.

For his part, Ron no longer enjoyed winding her up the way he used to. As the end of his school career loomed on the horizon, he appreciated her ability and her willingness to help him understand what the professors failed to. He also appreciated her place in Harry’s life, as she did his. Each of them realized how much Harry needed Ron’s humour and Hermione’s intellect. As things had gotten worse, certainly after Sirius’s death, they both became more protective of Harry than ever before. They would sacrifice anything for him and they made a secret pact to see him through it all — whatever that entailed.

She would miss Ron desperately.

Separation from Harry would cause her physical pain.

Where her relationship with Ron was well-defined and comfortable in their seventh and final year at Hogwarts, her relationship with Harry was baffling. To everyone. The years had brought them closer together to the point where they could complete each other’s sentences. She knew Harry like she knew the back of her own hand. She ached for him when he was in pain and she was exhilarated when he was even the slightest bit happy. Moreover, she was aware of his feelings before anyone else. Always. Before Harry, even. It was just plain weird.

Harry’s survival (and ensuing happiness, she hoped with all her might) was the number one priority in her life. At first, way back in fourth year when she realized this was the case, she wasn’t concerned about it — surely it was true for many people that knew Harry. Dumbledore, Sirius and Remus, Hagrid, the Weasleys, Ron in particular. They all wanted the same thing, right? Harry’s survival. Harry’s happiness. It wasn’t until he told Ron and Hermione about the prophecy at the beginning of sixth year that she realized how far gone she was. She had cried herself to sleep for a week. She wrote pages and pages in her journal. She looked for guidance from her parents. She had even prayed about it, and she wasn’t a churchgoing person. No one else seemed as affected. Of course, they were all concerned about it, but how could they simply move on and play quidditch and plan holidays and send him back to Privet Drive? It was so unfair. It was more than her heart could handle.

It was then that she realized she was in love with her best friend. And it had been her intention to take that secret to the grave with her.

After all, he didn’t feel the same about her. There was Ron’s fading crush to consider. And she wouldn’t let her juvenile feelings get in the way of her friendship with the two boys that made her life worth living. Besides, she was on a mission. She couldn’t be concerned about dates and handholding and snogging in broom closets when she had to find a way to stop Voldemort.

Then her parents were killed and she was lost. She floundered for a while, feeling guilty, lonely, inconsequential, and frightened. She was no longer chapters ahead in her coursework. She buried herself behind the curtains of her four-poster, finding no solace in the library. She didn’t answer questions in class and she rarely made it to the Great Hall for meals.

Harry and Ron were worried, but Ron thought she needed space. Harry knew better. He was still grieving for Sirius when her parents were killed. She had helped him and he was determined to help her. He told Ron that they would lose Hermione if they didn’t do something.

So he started to follow her everywhere, dogging her steps as she tried to hide in the lavatory or sneak off to her room when she should be going to eat. He had recruited others to help him, asking Terry Boot to watch her every move when she was in Arithmancy or having Susan Bones report back to him on where she went after Ancient Runes. All of Gryffindor was instructed to be on alert when she was around. He would sit and watch her eat at every meal, no matter how long it took, no matter how much quidditch practice he might miss. With all of his efforts, he reached out, brought her out of her funk, and placed her back in their world.

It was then that he started to look at her in a completely different way. They shared so many long talks back and forth to Hagrid’s hut or walking around the lake. She couldn’t remember how many nights he had held her in their favorite cushy chair by the fire in the Common Room while she cried her eyes out, grieving the loss of her mother and father while the rest of Gryffindor slept. Things changed. Or maybe things didn’t change — maybe the circumstances changed and things became clear. Either way, nothing major had happened as a result.

She still loved him in secret. He still kept all of his feelings locked inside. It was apparent to everyone around them that Harry and Hermione loved each other, and in more than just a "friendly" way. But if anyone were to broach the subject, Hermione would quickly steer the conversation to something safer. Harry would simply avoid it altogether and walk away. There were too many complications. Too much to lose.

Leaving him would be torturous. She wanted to tell him, before she left, what he meant to her. She was still working up her courage the morning her expulsion was to take effect.

* * *

We expect you will have your things prepared for a swift departure by the noon hour on Saturday, the 23^rd of March. You will be met in the Great Hall and escorted from the premises by no less than three Ministry representatives and two school Governors. You will turn in your school robes and any other property of the school at this time. No further ties with the school or anyone at the school will be tolerated.

Crystal fucking clear. They were afraid of her. The idea seemed so absurd that she almost laughed when first she read that letter. A seventeen year old muggleborn witch with no living relatives to speak of. A young girl relatively inexperienced in the ways of the world. A bookworm with few friends other than the books that lived under layers of dust on the shelves in the library.…

The library.

Leaving her favorite room in the castle had been difficult. She had returned every ancient tome she’d borrowed, piling them high on Madam Pince’s oversized desk. Remembering the manners her parents had taught her, she thanked the staid librarian for putting up with her over the years. As she made to exit the library, she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned to face an obviously affected Madam Pince, who simply squeezed Hermione’s shoulder and smiled at her briefly. When Madam Pince returned to her desk, Hermione saw her grab a tissue and shake her head, as if her display of emotion, however slight, was a momentary aberration. Smiling through her tears, Hermione left the library for the last time.

From there, she headed to her room to pack the final few items that would be leaving the school with her. She had left the boys at Hagrid’s hut, where they had gone after breakfast for Hermione’s last visit. They had wanted to escort her back to the school and help her with her things, but she insisted they stay with Hagrid. She wanted to walk through the halls of Hogwarts one last time alone. Alone with her thoughts. Alone with her memories. Being with Harry and Ron now was so difficult. She was sure she’d be a sobbing mess by the time she made it to the Great Hall if she spent all that time with them. And the last thing she wanted to give the bigots was her dignity. No. She would leave Hogwarts on her own terms, head held high.

As she slowly made her way to the Great Hall, having left her trunk and Crookshanks (unhappily in his cage) with Dobby, she thought of the defining moments of her young life. The voices and images of her past floated through her mind.

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville’s lost one."

"No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood."

"Harry, I can’t believe it.…You conjured up a Patronus that drove away all those dementors! That’s very, very advanced magic.…"

"He’s from Durmstrang! He’s competing against Harry! Against Hogwarts! You — you’re — fraternizing with the enemy, that’s what you’re doing!"

"You…this isn’t a criticism, Harry! But you do…sort of…I mean — don’t you think you’ve got a bit of a – a – saving-people-thing?"

"… and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives."

"I’m terribly sorry, Miss Granger. Of course, the Headmaster has granted permission for Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley to accompany you to the funeral. Several members of the Order will be there in disguise, as well, to make sure nothing, shall we say…untoward happens."

She stopped herself. She didn’t want to revisit sixth year and the hell it was for her. If it hadn’t been for Harry and Ron, she wouldn’t have survived it.

Must thank that troll some day.

When she reached the Great Hall, she saw the Headmaster uncharacteristically lingering by the doors, obviously waiting for someone. He saw her and his face lit up.

"Ah, Miss Granger. I see Dobby has your things prepared for your journey," he said motioning toward the vast front doors of the castle. "Are you managing all right?"

Hermione thought she heard a forced cheerfulness in his tone. "Yes, sir. I’m all ready." She returned the favor and gave him a forced smile.

Dumbledore lowered his gaze to peer at her above his half-moon spectacles. "Are you really?" His expression became subdued. In a quieter voice, he made his apologies. "Forgive me, Hermione. I only wish I had been able to stop them. Hogwarts will not be the same without you."

She found the lump in her throat prevented her from speaking. She gave him a quick nod and proceeded through the doors to the Great Hall. To her dismay, it seemed that every student and teacher at Hogwarts had chosen to eat lunch on this particular Saturday at the same time. She had hoped that she could leave relatively quietly but it seemed that no one wanted to miss out on the show. Word had spread like wildfire about her expulsion, and she knew for a fact that Malfoy shared his inside information with anyone that would listen, as well. The tables were full and yet despite that fact, there was very little noise. It was spooky. She felt a chill run down her spine.

She wasn’t warmed by the sight of the officials standing near the entrance waiting for her to dole out her farewells. She sighed when she saw that Percy Weasley was among them, no doubt there to score points with his boss. He met her gaze for a short moment before averting his eyes. Not wanting to deal with him or the school Governors yet, she turned her attention to the task at hand.

With a final deep breath to steel her courage, she stood up straighter, stuck her chin out in defiance, and walked quickly to the staff table at the end of the Hall.

Professor McGonagall quickly rose from her seat and met Hermione in front of the head table.

"Hello, Professor. I’ve gathered all of the relevant Head Girl items and left them on the desk in my room for the next, er, occupant. I wanted to give you these notes I wrote up about the last prefects’ meeting as well as some notes I jotted down for the new Head Girl…you know, to give her a bit of a jump on everything. I’m afraid Malfoy, as he’s a complete git, won’t be much help." Hermione smiled conspiratorially and leaned in closer to the professor. "I can say that now I’m expelled."

Professor McGonagall did not return her smile and Hermione feared she had gone too far. But that wasn’t the cause of McGonagall’s dour expression.

"Miss Granger…Hermione," she began, swallowing hard. "I just don’t know what to say." Hermione had never heard McGonagall speak so softly or sound so broken. She smiled cheerfully at her mentor.

"It’s all right, Professor. There’s nothing to say. I’ll be fine. And, um, thank you, Professor. Thank you for everything. You’ll never know how much it’s all meant to me." With that, she turned and started to walk away.

"Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall called out, quite clearly on the verge of tears. Hermione stopped short and turned around. McGonagall spoke in a loud voice, making sure that everyone in the quiet Hall would be able to hear her, even though her voice was shaky. "I feel compelled to tell you that you were, without a doubt, the single best student I have ever had the honour of teaching. Whatever your heritage! You’ve done Gryffindor proud." She lifted her head defiantly and glared at the Ministry officials and the school Governors who stood expressionless at the doors to the Great Hall.

Hagrid, barely able to contain the huge teardrops welled up in his eyes, rose from his chair and chimed in, "Here, here! Look after yerself, ‘ermione. You ‘ear?"

"I, too, will miss your unparalleled enthusiasm, Miss Granger." Professor Flitwick joined Professor McGonagall at the foot of the platform that separated the staff table from the students. Then one by one, each of the other professors stood up out of obvious respect for Hogwarts’ top student. This, at least, heartened her. Even Snape stood, albeit with a sneer on his face.

Hermione smiled meekly and choked out a "thank you," her eyes lingering longest on McGonagall and Hagrid. Then she turned to make her last exit from the Great Hall.

Despite the rush of blood in her head, she could hear Dean Thomas as he rose from his seat at the Gryffindor table. "Oy! If you’re a Gryffindor…," he started, his thought completed by Seamus. "You’d bloody well better be getting to your feet. Now." Their faces solemn, they didn’t have to make this demand twice. No one in Gryffindor was sitting or eating or talking. In fact, the entire Great Hall had fallen silent, save for the sound of Ginny’s weeping and Lavender and Parvati’s muted sniffling. Neville put his arm around Ginny in an attempt to calm the girl.

Justin Finch-Fletchley then stood at the Hufflepuff table and cried out. "Thanks, Hermione. From all of us." His muggleborn status would have had him on the next train out of Scotland were it not for Hermione’s sacrifice. It was her "negotiations" that saved them. She had agreed to leave, without a fight and against the Headmaster’s wishes, if the Governors and the Ministry would let every other muggleborn at Hogwarts finish out the year. And so Justin stood, almost looking ashamed. She smiled at him genuinely. Then the rest of the muggleborns, spread throughout the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables, followed Justin’s lead and stood to thank her without words.

Terry Boot rose from his seat and said in a loud voice, "Um, cheers, Hermione. Thanks for all your, er, help in Arith, er, Arithmancy."

"Good luck on the N.E.W.T.s, Terry. I know you’ll do well." Another smile for another friend she hadn’t realized she had.

Soon every student and every teacher at Hogwarts, save for the Slytherins, were standing in honour of Hermione Granger, Head Girl, top student, and most importantly of all today…Mudblood. She couldn’t believe her eyes. Here and there, students would blurt out "good luck" and "you’ll be all right" or "take care of yourself" or "we’ll miss you." She had never in her life felt like she belonged — like she was an important part of something — as much as she did at this moment.

The irony of the situation was not lost on her.

And if that weren’t enough, for once, the Slytherins were not disruptive. They sat in eerie silence, watching the scene unfold before them.

Hermione actually pinched herself. Yep. This is really happening.

She walked with purpose, trying to take in the enormity of this moment without losing her composure. As she passed between the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables, her eyes met Luna Lovegood’s and Luna gave her a broad smile to boost her spirits. She then took in the rather sad sight of Ginny Weasley, barely managing to control her tears. Neville looked awkward trying to console her but his presence was bolstered by several of the sixth year girls who were attempting to help Ginny dry her eyes. It was no use. "I’m s-sorry, Hermione. This is s-so wr-wrong. I’m going to miss you!" She flung her arms around Hermione and the older girl gave her a tight squeeze.

"It’s all right, Gin. I won’t let them win. You just keep up your work and look after yourself." She then literally handed Ginny back to Neville and meekly smiled at them. She granted small but meaningful smiles to all of the seventh year Gryffindors and a variety of students at the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables.

She had just about managed to make it out of this mess unscathed when she took in the sight of her very angry, very sad, very bewildered best friends. They stood resolute and looked menacing, as if they were her bodyguards — Ron holding her book bag, Harry holding her muggle coat. They were waiting for her near the end of the tables, not far from the door. As she approached them, Percy finally moved and stood between Hermione and her best friends, much to their displeasure.

He cleared his throat. "Miss Hermione Jane Granger. My name is Percival Weasley, and I am here as an emissary on behalf of the Minister of Magic to make sure that your departure from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is expedited and without incident. I will now escort you to the train station where you will depart for London at once."

Hermione quelled her own anger in favor of warily watching the scene play out before her. Ron was quickly turning from bright red to purple with rage. His fists were clenched and she could tell it was only a matter of time before he hauled off and slugged Percy. Harry, in the meantime, was even scarier. His much more detached, controlled rage was something she knew could be lethal. Harry was being trained in all manner of ways to fight the most twisted, maniacal wizard of the age — Percy Weasley was a flea in comparison. Harry could probably eradicate him with a carefully placed sneeze.

With all that in mind, Hermione was relieved to hear the calm voice of Albus Dumbledore intercede.

"That won’t be necessary, Mr. Weasley. Miss Granger will be escorted home by friends of hers. Friends, I might add, who do not answer to the Minister of Magic or the Hogwarts Board of Governors." He turned and exposed Hermione’s escort.

So that’s who he was waiting for.

Remus Lupin, Alastor Moody, and Bill Weasley stepped forward. Remus’s calm demeanor was just what the doctor ordered, Hermione thought.

"Albus, Percy. We’re happy to see Hermione off whenever she’s ready." He smiled at Hermione and her heart lightened. She could also see Harry and Ron’s fists unclench at this news and she sighed in relief.

Percy, however, looked uncertain. "Well, this is…unexpected. I’m not sure that, er, that we’re allowed to let her go with someone else. No. No, I think it would be better to stick to our plans." He looked around at the other two officials from the Ministry of Magic for some indication of their thoughts on the matter. One of the school Governors stepped forward and harrumphed.

"No special treatment, Headmaster, that is what we agreed on. She’ll get what she’s been promised — a hasty exit from the school to which she no longer belongs. The Ministry has agreed to see to it on our behalf and I’m inclined to let them do their duty as they see fit."

At that, several voices rose in disagreement. Ron began to yell at Percy, sending some choice epithets his way. Remus started to calm Ron down while all of the officials present for this expulsion began arguing. Dumbledore held up his hands but could not stop Moody or Bill from contributing their opinions, and quite vociferously, on the matter.

In the meantime, Harry ignored the din and simply looked at Hermione. Her heart skipped a beat, as it was wont to do these days, and she felt like nothing else mattered but the moment they were sharing. She smiled the smile she reserved for him and he returned the favor in kind. Then he took her hands in both of his and at some point the noise around them stopped.

Dumbledore’s knowing smile was the first thing she saw when she came out of her daze. Harry squeezed her hands and she dropped his right hand as she turned to face the crowd.

"It is agreed. Miss Granger is a free woman when she steps off the grounds of Hogwarts. She will choose who is to escort her to the train."

"I’ll go with Professors Lupin and Moody…and with Bill, of course. Thank you, Headmaster."

"Well, there’s still the matter of your things. I certainly hope that you have returned your Hogwarts’ robes, as well as all of the incidentals traditionally entrusted to the Head Girl, already." Percy was all business and spared nary a glance for either of his brothers.

"Yes. I left my robes in my room for the house elves and I’ve given Professor McGonagall everything related to my position as Head Girl."

"There’s no need to tarry then. You no longer belong here."

Hermione flinched at these words. She could hear a buzz run through the crowd now officially "gathered" in the Great Hall. She wasn’t sure if it was the humiliation of it all or the realization of what she was losing, but she found it impossible to hold back the single tear that ran down her face.

Once again, Harry squeezed her hand in support.

Ron advanced on Percy. He could no longer contain his emotions. "I can’t believe you Percy, you great ponce! You know Hermione. She’s stayed at our house before. You used to date a muggleborn, for Merlin’s sake! What are you hoping to get out of this? A great big snog from the Minister of Magic?! That’s the least you should get, Perce, for kissing his round, fat arse! Mum and Dad are so ashamed…"

At this point, the eldest Weasley stepped in. Putting his hand on Ron’s shoulder, Bill tried to calm him. "C’mon, Ron. Calm down, little bro. He’s not worth it, is he? He’s chosen his loyalties. Let it go. For Hermione’s sake if for no other reason." Looking into her best friend’s eyes, Hermione could see Ron understood his brother’s point. This scene was bad enough for her. Airing the Weasley family’s dirty wash in public wouldn’t help anything. Ron gave her a half-smile and acquiesced.

Remus spoke up then. "All right, then. Shall we?" His arm stretched in front of him, he smiled at Harry, Hermione, and Ron and pointed them in the direction of the doors. But Percy had one final card to play.

"I don’t think so, Mr. Lupin." He spat Lupin’s name as if disgusted by it. "Mr. Potter and Mr. Ronald Weasley will remain here, in the Great Hall, while Miss Granger takes her leave. By order of the Minister." Percy made to withdraw the Minister’s latest decree when Dumbledore stopped him.

"I’m quite sure your orders say just that, Mr. Weasley, but is it really necessary?"

"Percy!" Bill raised his voice. "You’re being a giant-sized prat, now! I’ve kept Ron from chewing your head off and handing it to you in public, but this is dragonshit, this is! All they want to do is walk their best friend out the door before you put your boot to her arse and kick her out." Percy’s expression remained unchanged. In fact, if anything, Hermione thought he looked more defiant and a bit haughtier in reaction to the insults being thrown at him by his brothers.

"I swear to Merlin, Percy, you’d better hope you never run into me in a dark alley," Ron said in a low voice. Harry appeared more resigned to the idiocy of the situation, although he didn’t like it any better. In the end, Hermione herself had to intervene.

"It’s all right. A few metres difference. What does it matter?"

She turned to her two closest friends in all the world – her family, really – and she firmly grasped a hand of each of theirs in hers. She’d been practicing this speech for days and suddenly all coherent thought fled her brain. She knew she couldn’t stop the tears at this point.

"You…" she swallowed visibly, then took a deep breath. It all came out in a rush. "You need to study. Both of you! You’re not at all ready for the N.E.W.T.s and I dread to think what you’ll get up to in my absence. So I’ve left Neville my revision schedule. It’s all sketched out in detail…I adjusted it a bit, of course, since it’s for you and not me any more and, well, let’s face it, you don’t exactly have the stamina to revise on my schedule. But no matter. It’s fixed now. Follow the schedule to the letter. Do you hear me? Ron? To. The. Letter. I’d hate to see it all go to waste. You have so much potential – both of you. Please do the work. Please!" They smiled at her and couldn’t help but chuckle.

Her time was growing short and she knew it. She let go of Harry’s hands and took Ron’s free hand to replace it. She stepped closer to him and said with conviction, "You know what you have to do, Ron. All the things you have to do. Revise every chance you get. Be nicer to Luna. Leave Ginny alone. Eat with your mouth closed, and…." She trailed off and moved in even closer to his face to emphasize her last point. "You must watch his back, Ron. Be careful. Be ready…and know that I love you."

She then looked back to Harry and said to both of them. "They’re separating us. You know that’s what this is all about, don’t you?" They nodded solemnly. Then Ron grabbed her up in a tight hug that lifted her off her feet. He held her for several moments before returning her to her feet, quickly but firmly kissing her forehead, and whispering "be careful." He wiped his eyes casually with the back of his sleeve and picked up the discarded book bag and coat. He walked over to Bill to hand off Hermione’s things and give his friends their moment.

How ridiculous is this? she thought. For the first time in his life, Ron is being sensitive to someone else’s needs by giving us some privacy, and here we stand in the middle of the Great Hall with God and everyone watching us.

Harry must have understood what she was thinking because he answered her smirk with a small chuckle. Again, he grasped both of her hands. You could hear a pin drop. She took another cleansing breath and decided it was more important to focus on Harry than worry about the crowd that was listening to their every word. She didn’t want to think it, but this could be the last time…well, she didn’t want to think it. Still, they were both in such a precarious position. Best to let him know, clearly and precisely, how she felt about him. She’d learned a valuable lesson when she lost her parents.

"Harry, you must be careful. Please don’t take any undue risks — no chances with your life, please Harry. I don’t know what I’d do…." She trailed off. The tears had begun to fall and she couldn’t speak past the lump in her throat. She noticed that his eyes were wet as well.

He intertwined their fingers and let his forehead fall to hers. "They are separating us, Hermione. You and me. Do you understand?" She knew he was trying to make sure that she understood the danger she was in, and just how imminent that danger was. He was pleading with his eyes and it nearly broke her.

"I can’t lose you," he whispered. "As it is, it will be hell here without you. The thought of losing you for good…it’s driving me mad, Hermione. Just the thought of it." The tears were rolling down his face as well now. "Please watch yourself. Please be careful."

She laughed through her tears. "We seem to be stealing each other’s lines." Her smile drew a smile from him.

His smile faded away to something more serious. "This isn’t how I wanted this to happen, but…oh, bloody hell. Sod it." He steadied her face in his hands and he kissed her.

He kissed her slowly and deeply, pouring every ounce of love and affection he could into it. She reciprocated in kind and held the back of his head to make sure he didn’t cut this short. When they finally did come up for air, he leaned his forehead against hers and wiped her tears away with the pads of his thumbs. She tried to memorize the lines of his face in that moment. He smiled just for her and she melted.

As with all good things, their moment ended. Percy Weasley cleared his throat and brought everyone back to the nightmare reality. Harry scowled at him, but Hermione pulled his face back to hers and gave him one more brief kiss, whispering "I love you" in his ear just before she let go of him and walked away.

Moody followed her immediately out the doors of the Great Hall. Bill shook Ron’s hand and assured him that they would take good care of Hermione. The murmurs and whispers of the Great Hall began to grow in volume as all of the students, who were so eerily quiet just a few minutes earlier, seemed incapable of controlling their need to talk about what had just transpired right before their eyes.

Remus approached Harry. Harry removed his eyes finally from the spot where he’d last seen her and looked very seriously at his surrogate godfather. "I’m trusting you, Remus. I’m trusting you with the most important thing in my life. Please, please don’t let anything happen to her." He choked on the last part of the sentence and Remus noticed that his eyes were still wet.

Remus smiled at him and squeezed his shoulder in reassurance. Quietly, he said, "So very like your father, Harry. I’ll take good care of her, I promise. You just watch your own back."

Then he turned and joined Moody, Bill, and Hermione on their way out of the castle. The Ministry officials and the school Governors followed, Percy Weasley obviously in a rush to leave. Dumbledore made his way to the staff table.

The Great Hall had gone quiet again as Harry stood staring at the doors, unable to move. Ron wasn’t in much better shape, but he was alert enough to face the population of Hogwarts. "Oy! What are you bleedin’ lookin’ at, eh? Mind your business." Then he grabbed Harry by the back of his robes and dragged him off to the quidditch pitch.

There was only one way to get through this.

Fly their arses off.

* * *

Remus had thought about making a portkey. He knew Hermione did not enjoy flying and given her status, she was no longer allowed to apparate. But in the end, Albus had convinced him that the train ride might do her some good. So he sat and read the Daily Prophet, while Moody paced up and down the cars and Bill stared out the window. He glanced over at Hermione. She was taking this well. He was proud of her. He was proud of Harry, as well. It gave him some odd sense of satisfaction that they had gone the route Sirius had predicted. He supposed it was rooted in the fact that they reminded him so very much of James and Lily.

Great, he thought. Yet another reason I have to make sure this boy lives. He actually has a future with her — I’m sure of it. And I owe him a future. James was robbed of his. I won’t let that happen again — and not to his son.

Hermione’s nose, for once, wasn’t buried in a book. Instead, she had found some parchment in her coat pocket that she was intensely interested in. A smile spreading across his face, Remus didn’t wonder what the parchment was. From the look on her face, he was fairly sure he knew who had put that letter in her coat pocket. He sighed and returned his attention to today’s Prophet.

For her part, Hermione was re-reading said letter for the fifth time. She was worrying her lower lip with a ferocity that would leave a small bruise by the end of the day. She wasn’t sure whether she should laugh or cry. Either way, this train ride home was turning out to be a lot more pleasant than she had originally expected.

She read once again from the top…

Hermione,

I was just so certain I’d muck up anything I wanted to say to you face to face that I decided I needed to take a page out of your book, so to speak, and write my feelings down on parchment. I hope you read this on the train and I hope it gives you some comfort.

This whole mess is a bloody nightmare. And I know a thing or two about nightmares. I can’t believe they’re taking you away — away from Hogwarts, away from your final exams as a witch (I know you’d score top marks), away from Gryffindor (we’re sure to lose the House Cup now), away from your Head Girl duties (who will they find to replace you? who else can stand up to the ferret?), away from Ron and me…away from me. I can’t imagine this place without you. To be honest, I don’t quite know who I am without you.

I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. It’s just, well, we’ve been dancing around this for ages, it seems. Ron’s over it, at the least. He rolls his eyes a lot less often and doesn’t seem so much in a snit when we, well…exhibit signs of, well, you know. And I can’t let you walk out of here not knowing what you mean to me. Problem is, that sort of requires that I know what you mean to me.

In the context of everything that’s going on, it’s a bit ironic. I mean, it’s clear that the ‘powers that be’ have determined what you mean to them. You’re a threat. I reckon they’re afraid that your power is somehow related to your ‘muggle-ness.’ We can’t have that, can we? Muggleborns outscoring, outperforming, out-wizarding purebloods. It might give people the wrong idea — that muggles aren’t worthless and pathetic. (Well, to be fair, certain muggles are losers, aren’t they? A fat bastard, his horse-faced wife, and their mentally challenged fat-bastard progeny come to mind.)

Anyway, I think I was just stalling there. Not wanting to ‘examine my feelings,’ as it were. Isn’t that what you told me I had to do last year? Examine my feelings about Sirius. You were right (shock horror!). And eventually I heeded your advice. Hurt like hell, I don’t mind telling you. But then it got better. In this case, it’s scary as shit. Taking that dreaded risk and all. I don’t want to lose your friendship, Hermione. Fact is, I can’t survive without it. I do believe I’ve been using you all these years. For little things like thinking, schoolwork, survival — nothing important.

God, Hermione, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry if ever I’ve taken you for granted. If my sad state of obliviousness (or obliviosity or me-being-oblivious or whatever) has led me to not properly recognize how important you are to me. If my tendency to act like a complete nutter has ever made you doubt yourself. If Ron’s eating habits have made you turn your back on breakfast altogether. (Thought I’d throw that in to lighten things up a bit. Right. Avoiding the topic again.)

Okay, so we were discussing how badly I need you. I don’t really think I need to explain that one, do I? Everyone who can read in the wizarding world is well aware of just how much Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Fucks-Up-A-Lot, needs Hermione Granger, Girl-Who-Saves-Him-From-Himself. For all that survival and staying in school stuff. But you and I know that just plain Harry needs just plain Hermione for so much more than that.

Somewhere along the way, over these seven years, you’ve managed to take up residence in my mind. My conscience speaks in your voice (and is often quite cross with me). My exam answers come out of my quill with your flair for being thorough. My work ethic has improved heaps and my intellectual curiosity…well, it exists now. Those are all things that happened because you are my best friend. I came to terms with that a while ago — maybe even last year. The thing that started to freak me out a bit, to use a Yank turn of phrase, was when I realized that it wasn’t just my mind that was affected by you. All sorts of body parts started to respond. You’re scared now, aren’t you?

I thought it could be explained away. We’re friends. Long-time friends. Best friends. Friends who have shared life-or-death experiences. Friends who have shared the ‘Ron Weasley experience.’ Friends who simply ‘get’ each other. Friends with a common background — brought up in muggle households with no real friends to speak of and with GINORMOUS insecurities about being ‘different.’ Friends who both lost their parents to an obsessed madman. Friends. Best friends.

Right.

Except I don’t find myself staring at Ron when I’m too bored to continue my homework. And I don’t notice how the firelight plays on Ron’s face. I have no interest in how he smells and let’s not even talk about what’s under his robes. Ugh. I think I’ve gone and made myself sick.

However, I have taken quite the interest in all of the above when it comes to you. I used to think I’d grab hold of you when things got dodgy because you were small and a girl and surely you couldn’t fend for yourself like Ron could. Bollocks. I know now, Hermione. I know what you’ve been doing to me. I know what’s been happening. Bit by bit, you’ve been stealing my heart. And thing is, I really don’t want it back. As long as I can have yours in return.

Uh-oh. Sap alert. I’ve gone all mushy on you. Can you imagine me trying to tell you this to your face? Actually, I shouldn’t ask you that, ‘cause I probably should give it a go — telling you to your beautiful face. Me being a Gryffindor and all. But I know it will be too hard to look into your big brown eyes and tell you that I love you. It should be the easiest thing in the world, but things that are easy for other people seem to somehow be hard for me. Sorry about that.

But I do love you, Hermione. More than I can possibly say. Please know that. I need to know that you know that, in case anything happens. Somewhere during this dreadful ‘examination of my feelings,’ I figured out that you are the most important person in my life. More important than me, funnily enough. I can’t lose you. I just can’t. So please be careful. If not for your own sake, then for mine. I’d be lost without you.

Hoping to see you soon.

Yours,

Harry

P.S. Don’t think you have to send a response STRAIGHTAWAY. Don’t worry that I’ll be here, alone, biting my nails completely off with worry and fright that I’ve destroyed the most important relationship I have. It should be of no concern to you that I’m a sad and lonely orphan in whose hands rests the fate of the wizarding world. Take your time in responding, really. I don’t mind. Really. (Sometimes, guilt can work for a bloke. I’m learning…aren’t you proud?)

Hermione chuckled and blinked back the tears that were threatening to fall. She looked up, for the first time wondering where they were and what the others were up to. She caught Remus smiling at her, and she smiled back at him. Then she took out her quill and a piece of parchment and began to compose the most important letter of her life.

Dear Harry,

You never cease to amaze me. On this, the day I’m meant to feel worthless, you’ve managed to make me feel like the most special person in all the world. What does it matter whether or not I’m worthy of Hogwarts? It only matters that I’m worthy of you and your love.…