Torn

DISCLAIMER: No money is being made, sad to say. And I do own some characters, just those that you don't recognize.

A/N: Well I'm back with many sincere apologies for the long wait, and many hopes that this chapter can make up for it all. I tried writing this chapter three times. So I hope this final product is to your liking. Please let me know what you all think and I just want to thank you guys for your reviews and your kind words of encouragement. I'm here to please, folks. Enjoy.

*******

The wind ruffled the white cloth that covered the crate. Two bottles of butterbeer sat atop it, along with two glasses and a single rose in a simple vase. Roses were her favourite. Harry smoothed a hand over the cloth. He picked up the glasses and moved them closer to the vase. After a beat, he picked them up again and set them back in their original spot. He inched a chair forward. Then he inched it back. He lightly drummed his fingers on the crate and moved the glasses again before moving them back.

Yes, he was nervous.

Well then who wouldn't be? This was of course they're first official date and Hermione didn't even know it yet. Or did she? Either way, it didn't matter. Element of surprise or not, this still was their very first date and Harry was even dressed up for the occasion. It didn't matter that not a single item of clothing belonged to him. Everything had to be perfect. Things had to go smoothly. She was going to happy. And nothing was going to spoil this perfect nerve-racking moment. Harry cleared his throat and attempted to flatten his hair before moving the glasses again. He sighed, fed up with himself and forced his hands to his side.

Harry scuffed his shoe against the floor and sniffed, brushing his nose with the back of his hand. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked out at the horizon. The fluffy grey clouds that blanketed the indigo sky masked what stars that could have been seen. He could see the tops of the trees in the Forbidden Forest lightly sway with the cold breeze that nipped at his nose and ruffled his hair. Harry folded his hands behind his back, coughed and then opting for a more relaxed stance, he promptly stuffed his hands in his pockets.

The second reason for his nerves was cooling against his chest. Not too long ago, the smooth disc that Ron had given him had grown cool against his skin. What it meant, Harry didn't have a clue. Ron had said that if any of them were in danger, they would know. When asked `how?' Ron merely shrugged and said, “You'd just know.” Well right now, Harry didn't know much of anything. He fished inside his button down shirt and brought the object out to inspect it. Nothing looked out of the ordinary, but he felt more than he knew that something was wrong.

Then a thought occurred to him. Was Ron wearing the disc as well? If so, then what if the cool touch was indicating that his best friend was in danger? Harry couldn't remember though if he had even seen Ron string a cord through the thing. He fingered the cooling object and glanced at the closed door then at the watch Dean had given him as Christmas present. Hermione wasn't going to be here until half past. Harry had 25 minutes. If he ran, he knew that he could quickly check on Ron and make it back just in time for Hermione to arrive.

Nodding to himself; his decision made, Harry dashed for the door, ran down the stairs, turned the corner, bolted down the hall and nearly crashed into Luna who took a deft sidestep. Harry skidded to a stop, breathing hard. He asked her if she knew where Ron was.

“He is in the common room. I'm off to meet him right now. Shouldn't you be in the tower Harry, or do you have another plan?”

“No, it's the disc.”

Luna eyed the item in question and reached out to it. “That's fascinating. Ronald hasn't got his on yet. I was actually going to give him this hair of Warburt Skinpunk to help keep his skin fresh and smooth. It's much stronger than that string he is planning on using. It can also keep away the gnomes. I have one for you as well. Do you want one?”

Harry didn't bother to ask what a Warburt Skinpunk was or why Ron's smooth skin would keep away gnomes. Instead he paused as an inkling of thought seeped through. If Ron wasn't in danger then there was only one answer for it.

Luna seemed to come to the same conclusion, for her eyes glowed with determination and she said, “I should come up with you. You can't be alone in this Harry.”

Harry shook his head not wanting things to be falling apart already. “No, I don't want either of you coming near the tower. Just stay in the common, Luna.”

“But Hermione could be-”

“Fine. She's just fine and anyway, Ron did get these things from Fred and George so…”

“Don't take this lightly Harry. I'll go meet Ronald and tell him. Contrary to what you think, you are not alone and you are not the tragic hero.”

Harry didn't know what to say to that so he only blinked back at her.

“You should go upstairs now. If you meet her here then the surprise will be spoiled,” Luna said.

Harry hesitated before turning to go and he paused in his step. If it was true… “Don't tell Ginny. I don't want her to worry.”

Luna nodded. “Keep your wand close, Harry.” He didn't answer her and only brusquely made his way back to the tower.

Luna watched Harry go and then she made her way to the Gryffindor tower, thoughts swirling in her head. Down the corridor she spotted a familiar figure walking towards her. His eyes passed over her as he came closer so it wasn't until Luna said hello that he allowed a bored gaze to glance her way.

“You might want to keep Ginevra close tonight, Draco,” she said.

At this Draco stopped and stared down at the girl with the big blue eyes. “And why would I want anything to do with the Weaslette, Lovegood?” he drawled.

“Well because she is your girlfriend and you love her.”

Draco looked surprised but he quickly suppressed the emotion and locked his gaze with hers. The two of them stared at each other for a heartbeat; one passively, the other calculating.

“You're not as stupid as you look.” He paused. “Does Potter have it covered?”

“He thinks he does.”

Draco nodded then without another word the continued on his way and Luna hoped that he would take Ginny far from the tower tonight.

****

Harry stood with his hands propped against the low wall. If Voldemort really was controlling her now then he knew that all romantic thoughts he had planned for tonight were just shot to hell.

If however Fred and George's gift proved to be false and Lord he hoped so, then he could go on as planned.

The cool disc was a small reminder to the ever-present truth. Harry looked at it, fiddled with it, and then placing his hands on the cord he turned it around and let the disc lie safely against his back. Truthful or not, it was better to keep some things secret. Ron would give Hermione her own disc and that was safer than Voldemort discovering it for Himself.

“Christ, what have I gotten her into?” Harry said aloud. He scowled at his hands. “Look at what you've done, you sodding idiot. Hell, I'm sorry Hermione. God, it's all my sodding fault.”

The door creaked open and Harry briefly shut his eyes.

Please, love. Please be okay.

As if in answer to his silent plea, the disc grew colder and for a moment, Harry's face crumbled in despair. Then the rage simmered and boiled his insides. You fucking wanker. He let out a long exhaling breath and, just as he was taught, Harry raised the walls inside his mind. Then he turned around. She looked lovely as ever and pleasantly surprised.

“Hi,” he said.

“Hello Harry.”

****

“Ronald?” Luna whispered.

“Yeah?”

“Someone is on the stairs.”

Without a thought, Ron quickly pushed Luna behind him and looked up. Indeed someone was on the stairs and the figure stood motionless as if he had heard their whispering. Luna jabbed a finger into Ron's back and made to move back beside him, but he kept her from doing so and hissed at her to keep still. She only looked at him in her wide eyed way, but Ron knew that she was annoyed.

“We have to do something, Ronald.”

“Hang on.”

Ron raised his was and pointed it at the figure who had not yet noticed their presence. Was this a good thing? Ron said the first spell that came to mind, “Petrificus Totalus.”

The figure's limbs suddenly stuck to his sides and then in they watched, as if in slow motion, his body slowly tipped backwards. If it hadn't been for Luna's levitating spell to keep him upright and hovering, then all three of them would've been made known to the couple beyond the door.

What terrific spies we make. Ron thought dryly as Luna brought the figure closer to them, careful not to burn him on the many candles that lit the stairwell. Ron wished for a change of heart though once the light illuminated Blaise's face.

The boy looked at the two of them with narrowed eyes that seemed to say, “Let me go you insolent dogs.”

Ron could just picture the steam pouring out of the boy's ears. Luna levitated him down the last three stairs and on the way as if by accident she jerked her wand sharply and Blaise's face thumped against the wall. Hard. Ron snickered. Blaise was still blinking from the impact when Luna brought him closer to them.

“Right then. This night is just full of surprises. Not too close now, Luna. We don't know what sort of tricks Death Eaters know,” Ron whispered and accioed Blaise's wand. He waved it playfully before the boy's eyes before pocketing it and kept his own wand trained on the Blaise's chest. “Now, you wanna tell us what it is you're doing here?”

Blaise's eyes told them that it was none of their sodding business and to piss off. Luna flicked her wand and Blaise found that he could move his head freely.

“What happened to your face?” Ron asked, eyeing the large purple bruise on his left cheek.

“I thought you knew. Your stupid girlfriend couldn't handle a simple levitating spell.”

Ron clenched his fists and ground his teeth in anger.

“Just let it be, Ronald,” Luna said, placing a hand on his arm.

“Yes. Why don't you let it be, Ronald?” Blaise mocked.

Luna jerked her wand again. There was a small thump.

“Ow. Shit.”

“Are you here to hurt Harry and Hermione?” she asked.

“Why don't you figure it out, Loony?” Blaise sneered.

Ron angrily reached out and grabbed a fistful of Blaise's robes and pulled him forward. “Don't you call her that,” he said in a menacing voice.

“What are you going to do, Weasley?” Blaise said in a low voice. “Hit me?” He turned his head to show him his good cheek, which was pink from the thumping. “Here, give it a swing. Even out my skin tone.”

Ron clenched his hand into a tight fist, but checked himself and let him go saying, “Nah. Ginny'll take care of that.”

Blaise scowled.

“What are you doing here, Blaise? Give us a straight answer because we don't have any more time for games,” said Luna.

Blaise looked at here evenly and said, “I came up here to think. I saw these candles and then I heard some shouting through the door. Sounded like there was trouble in paradise.”

Ron made to bound up the stairs.

“I wouldn't go up there. From the sound of it, they're… not alone.” Ron ignored him, but Luna told him to stop. She freed Blaise from the spell and he dropped lightly to his feet. Ron's eyes widened in surprise at what she had done but before he could say a word or make a move, Luna spoke.

“We're not going to pretend anymore that any of us don't have a part in this. If you were here to hurt them then you would have already attacked Ronald and I with a spell. We were nearly halfway up the stairs before we noticed you, and I think we all know that all these candles gave us away.”

Ron blinked as he realized she was speaking the truth, and yet he held his ground as Luna continued.

“Now if you're here to help, then just please, Blaise. Tell us what you're planning on doing because you could not have come up here alone, knowing what you're up against, without an idea in your head.”

There was another muffled shout and then sharp laughter. Three heads jerked up towards the door.

“Weasley, get back down here. Two more steps and you'll give yourself away.”

“What? But the door is shut and they can't even see-”

“The Dark Lord doesn't need to see, to know you're there.”

Ron paled and took two steps down.

“Your girlfriend wasn't sorted into Ravenclaw just for kicks, I see. Now shut your eyes and relax your mind.”

“What?”

“Are you deaf? Shut your eyes.”

Ron eyed the boy suspiciously. “How do we know that you won't do anything shifty?”

“You don't.”

Ron continued to eye Blaise.

“Oh for heaven sakes, Weasley. You have my sodding wand. What else can I do?”

“Push us down the stairs.”

“Quite a violent imagination you have there. But no. I don't feel like pushing people down stairs today.”

“What do you want us to empty our heads for anyway?”

“Lord Weasley, one would think you lived in a box. You-Know-Who is a skilled legilimens. Know what that is?”

“Yeah.”

“Then I would think that trying to calm yourself and stop thinking wouldn't be too hard for you to grasp in this situation.”

Ron looked like he wanted to strangle him but Blaise held up a finger, “No no, the key here is relaxing. Try taking a leaf out of Looney's book. She seems to be getting the hang of it. Or tell you what, why don't you run off and go fetch Dumbledore?”

Ron took a deep breath and struggled to control his raging anger. Alright. That's not so bad.

“I'll go, Ronald. You stay here.”

Blaise was watching him closely. “That's it Weasley. Just let go.”

Ron felt Luna slip her hand into his and give it a reassuring squeeze before leaving him to his thoughts.

Let go. Right. Yeah just let go. How in the hell am I supposed to just let go? I'll let him go. Let my foot go up his sodding arse, the stuck up pretty boy wanker… Bollocks. Let go…

Ron's eyes closed.

****

A crash.

Shouting.

Running footfalls.

“Weasley, you have my wand!”

“Nah, he's too heavy. Bollocks, mate. Zabini get your arse over here!”

Crunching glass.

“Oh god. Oh hell. Hermione.”

“Get out of the way.”

“She's fine?”

Coughing.

A dull thud.

“I`m not leaving them!”

“If you don't, they die, Weasley!”

Pounding footsteps.

Stumbling.

A door slams.

Silence.

****

Harry's eyes jerked open. His glasses were askew and his head felt like it had been roughly thrown through a window and smashed against a stone wall. It took a few seconds for his surroundings to stop spinning. He blinked several times and soon his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting that nature provided. The stars overhead winked at him until they were neatly covered by the slowly moving streaks of grey.

Harry swallowed and wondered if he could stand. His fingers twitched and with much pain, he slowly turned his head to look at his outstretched arm. His fingers curled into a fist slowly as if testing it and then gradually unfurled.

Harry's chest rose and fell with each breath he took and if he looked ahead of him past his feet, he could see the overturned crate, or what was left of it. The broken flutes which once held the sparkling bubbling liquid of the butterbeer, lay scattered in bunches here, and pieces there along the butterbeer soaked stone floor of the tower. The pale moonlight glinted beautifully off the shattered glass, and Harry briefly wondered what had happened to the candles.

“Awake now, are you?” a voice said and quick footsteps crossed the distance to him. The pain in his head rebounded from the echoing noise and Harry winced and squeezed his eyes shut. At least the disc was no longer uncomfortably cool against his back where he had secretly turned it around on its cord so the Dark Lord wouldn't feel it when He had pressed Hermione's body along the length of Harry's own rigid one.

Hermione.

Harry tried to speak. “Her...” But only a coarse squeak came out. He cleared his throat and tried again. This time his voice decided to cooperate with him, allowing a coarse whisper to escape his lips.

“Hermione.”

“She's here,” a voice replied and Blaise Zabini suddenly appeared in Harry's line of vision.

Looking to be the complete opposite of his best friend Draco, Blaise's longish dark hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail. His blue eyes, slightly tilted, studied Harry as if calculatingly, and his skin as opposed to Draco's pale complexion, was tanned. Harry supposed Blaise had received his distinct Asian features from his mother. All things considered, along with the young man's prominent cheek bones and charming smile, his overall appearance was disarming and, at times, quite beautifully androgynous.

Although while his physical appearance was clearly a contrast to Draco Malfoy's, his personality was a definite match. His eyes though tilted, seemed to radiate that spark of bored distaste and stuck up importance. Much like Draco's. His straight back and sauntering walk merely bellowed his pride and overconfidence. Much like Draco's. His tongue quick, his deep voice often dripping with sarcasm, and his smooth hands with long fingers never far from a comb or brushing the lint from his finely pressed robes with a snooty air. Very much, like Draco's. Yes it was undoubtedly clear that the two were a pair. A match made in heaven.

What often troubled Harry, or made him curious (depending on the situation) was the fact that they weren't attached to the hip. All around the school, Malfoy made himself seen with his entourage in tow. Blaise however was hardly ever in sight. There was the occasional walking each other to class -as of late, their long strides seemed as one while they made their way to the door. They sat with each other in the Great Hall, and often beside each other in the few classes they shared, but apart from that Harry never really saw the two of them 'hanging out'. Not that he was looking of course.

“You look like hell,” Blaise said with a smirk.

“Where's Hermione?” Harry croaked, trying to push himself up.

Surprisingly, Blaise held him down, and for the second time that night Harry found himself subjected to the uncomfortable feeling of having the tip of a wand pressed against his throat. This time though, he hardly cared. Lying on his back, head feeling as it was going to split in two and with a dull throbbing of pain from his right leg that he was only half aware of, Harry stared directly up into the eyes of the mysterious boy who could very well kill him on the spot. That or render him unconscious and deliver him to Voldemort. Either way, he'd end up dead and he wasn't very fond of that outcome. Neither was he fond of the fact that he didn't know if Hermione was in danger or not. So in a very Harry Potter-esque way, he ignored the pain, ignored the potential danger that constantly hovered around his life and he concentrated in glaring the bejesus at the disturbingly pretty boy that knelt over him.

“Tell me where she is.” Harry growled low in his throat.

Blaise frowned. “Typical nauseating Gryffindor courage. Tell me Potter, will there ever come a time when you'll just wake up, and think of yourself for once?”

Harry struggled to push himself up, but it only earned him a `tsk' and a firm push back. Blaise waved a handing the direction above Harry's head. “Granger is fine. Well, as fine as anyone who' just recently been possessed anyway,” Blaise said.

Harry had the sudden urge to hit him, but from the dim light that illuminated the boy's face, it seemed that someone had already done so. Twice.

“What did you do to her?” Harry said in a guttural tone.

“I saved her sorry arse, Potter. And, may I remind you, yours as well. A little gratitude isn't too much to ask for. Now hold still.”

“What?”

“Have you gone temporarily deaf? I said hold still, you blundering idiot. You have a concussion and your leg is torn up.”

“Torn up?” Harry could see him grit his teeth in impatience.

Then Blaise brought a hand to Harry's leg and his fingers came away coated deep red.

“See this?” he said in a matter-of-fact tone. “It's called blood. Now it's not Granger's,” he wrinkled his nose as he looked at the offending colour that stained his fingers and he brought out a very clean handkerchief out of his pocket. It was monogrammed. Naturally. “And it most certainly,” he cleaned his fingers disdainfully, “isn't, mine.”

He looked at his handkerchief with a bored expression and for a moment glanced around for a place to leave it. He daintily placed it back in his pocket, neatly folded.

“Now,” he said turning his attention back to Harry. “You've got a piece of wood nearly the size of your forearm sticking out of your leg. So hold still. Lucky for you, Potter, I read ahead.”

Before Harry could ask him what in the blazes he was going on about, Blaise muttered a spell. And it was as if he had dunked Harry's leg into a bucket of ice.

“Sodding hell.” Harry said through gritted teeth, but a moment later the dull throbbing was gone, as was the cold. Blaise did the same with his head as well. When Harry could see properly once again, he gingerly brought a hand to his temple and wondered where the pain had gone.

Harry sat up. His leg was completely healed and if it wasn't fir the gigantic tear in his jeans, Harry never would have thought anything had happened. Bollocks. He thought, as he looked at the gaping hole in the borrowed trousers. Seamus is gonna kill me.

Immediately, he pushed himself to his feet and dashed to the spot where Hermione lay. Harry fell to his knees, not acknowledging the smarting force of impact, and he brought his hand to her face; gently caressing her cheeks and smoothing her hair away from her shut eyes. Blaise had laid her comfortably on the floor and not a mark marred her skin. Though Harry soon noticed with a start that her hands and feet were bound with strips of what was left of the cloth that had covered the crate.

“What's this?” he said angrily, swiveling to look at Blaise.

“That there is your girlfriend, Potter. I know. Hard to believe, isn't it? You with a girlfriend.”

“Piss off Zabini.” Harry turned back to Hermione and began to untie the cloth from her limbs.

“No, see, the words are: Thank You. Come on then, it's not hard. Thank. You.”

Harry ignored him and once he freed her wrists, he began to work on her legs.

“Hey now, what do you think you're doing?”

“What does it look like I'm doing?” Harry muttered.

In three quick strides, Blaise was at his back. “May I remind you that she's the reason for this date from hell?”

“It wasn't her!” Harry rounded on him and Blaise took a step back, lifting his arms in defense. Harry went back to work and Blaise stood and watched him with mild amusement etched on his elegantly bruised features.

“Tell me, Potter, how do you know that the Dark Lord is not going to open those pretty little eyes of hers?”

“He's not.”

“Yes but, how do you know?” Blaise pressed on.

In a fit of helplessness and frustration, Harry managed to wretch the cloth from Hermione's leg and tossed it violently at the ground beside him before lifting his head in Blaise's direction, eyes blazing.

“And why are you here, Zabini?!” he said. “Why are you helping us? What's it to you? What do you gain from this? Is it- is it, what, a laugh? A stupid childish game of yours that you and other Slytherin bastards enjoy? Catch the Golden Children at their worst! Point and laugh at their misery! Pick them up and kick them back down!”

“Relax, Potter.”

“No, YOU sodding relax, Zabini! I don't know what the hell you're up to, but I'm telling you now to either shove off and leave us be, or I swear I'll throw you off this tower.”

Blaise took a step forward and haughtily glared at Harry nearly nose to nose.

“I'd like to see you try.”

A hand shot out and seized Blaise's throat. With a sharp turn and a fierce shove, his back connected sharply with the stone wall. Blaise struggled under Harry's grip. He reached for his wand, but Harry tore it from his fumbling fingers and promptly threw it over the tower.

“Son of a bitch.” Blaise managed to gurgle under Harry's grasp.

Then Harry kneed him in the stomach.

“How did you know we were up here?” Harry said and eased his grip on Blaise's neck slightly so as to let the other boy speak.

“You're not…the only one… who uses this tower, you wanker.” Blaise gasped.

Harry's eyes narrowed. “Not a good thing to be calling me names, don't you think?”

Blaise grimaced. “Didn't know you were so keen with torture, Potter. Any other hidden talents?”

“Plenty.” Harry said through gritted teeth, masking the surprise he felt from the Blaise's comment. For he had just realized what he was doing, or what he was about to do.

He forced down the anger and he stepped back from the boy; his chest heaving with deep laboured breaths. When was this all going to end? Where could he finally find some peace? Harry raised trembling hands to his head and buried them in his hair as he turned away from Blaise and raised his eyes to the sky as if searching for some sort of hidden answer there. But the he realized the answer didn't lie in the skies. His gaze fell back to Hermione. It was in her. He rushed to her and gathered her still form in his arms, burying his face in her hair. Now what did he repay her with? Pain. Pain, and hardship and it all simply unfair.

He murmured her name. And he wished for her arms to wrap around him, for her hands to clasp his own and give it that familiar squeeze. He wished for her eyes to open.

Harry placed a kiss on her brow and took a shaking breath. He had her love. He knew he didn't deserve it, and yet, he knew that it was enough.

I'll make it all better. I promise. He thought, and in his mind's eye he could see her smile and he could hear her say, I know.

Blaise was slumped against the stone wall, his hand resting on his neck. “Bloody hell, Potter.”

Harry raised his head.

“If that's the way you thank people then I'll kindly back off from now on.” Blaise rasped, then he swiveled his head to look over the low wall. “You tossed it. I can't believe you tossed my sodding wand over this sodding tower.”

“Yeah, erm, sorry.” Harry breathed, finding himself for the first time not able to meet Blaise's gaze. He then reached out a hand. “Accio wand,” Harry said.

“What are you-” Blaise began but his words faded when his wand flew up the tower and straight into Harry's grasp. “Oh hell.” Blaise muttered at the particularly surprising piece of wandless magic.

Harry tossed the wand back to its owner and it landed in Blaise's lap, for the boy was too astounded to care.

“Dumbledore is always one step ahead, I see.”

Harry only looked back down at Hermione and ran his thumb along her brow. “Go on. Just tell Voldemort. It's your job, isn't it?”

Blaise was silent for a while. “Yeah.” he said. “Doesn't pay well, though.”

The door opened and Professor McGonagall stepped out closely followed by Ron and Luna. Ron looked at the odd display set before them before reaching Harry and Hermione's side. “You okay? Did he try anything on you, mate?” he said jerking a head at Blaise and handing Harry his and Hermione's wands, which he had found and kept safe.

Harry shook his head. “Where's Dumbledore, Professor?” he asked McGonagall and she quickly explained that the Headmaster had been called out to St Mungo's unexpectedly. Harry looked to Ron who shrugged. McGonagall conjured a stretcher for Hermione and they all took their leave of the tower.

****

Ron and Luna had explained all that had happened as they sat around the bed. Its occupant now quietly dozing away. Hermione had awoken briefly and all been made clear to her. She hadn't remembered a thing and she was strangely incredibly hungry. Madame Pomfrey had fetched a platter for her and explained that she was drained. The good news, McGonagall explained, was that all Hermione needed was food and rest. The bad news was she was to no longer attend any classes, as she was a potential danger to students. On the bright side, she was allowed to take her lessons in the library as long as she was strictly under guard by Ron, Harry, or Madame Pince. Her wand would only be given to her in the afternoons in the empty classroom where she would be able to practice what she had learned. Of course a teacher and either Harry or Ron would also monitor these practice sessions. Luna offered to help as well and after a heated argument in which Ron was red and Luna was calm, they came to a decision that yes, she would be able to help as long as Ron was glued to her side.

This unfortunate change of events definitely hindered the four of them and tightened their schedules, but it was needed and could not be helped. The most distraught of course was Hermione, who knew that the pressure of her N.E.W.T.S. had now doubled, her fear for the rest of the students (including Harry) increased tenfold, and also the knowledge that her predicament known to the students would cause a rift in many of the relationships she had formed over the years. The future of Hogwarts was made uncertain.

Now the three of them were murmuring quietly amongst themselves, now that Harry had finished telling them all that had happened between Blaise and himself. The former had been sent back to his room after being commended for his quick thinking. Harry had the disc in his hands and was comparing it to Ron's. The three of them whispered and nodded and Harry let the disc, now devoid of any chill, rest against the warmth of his chest.

They fell into a momentary silence when Madame Pomfrey's footsteps neared them. Harry had his hands placed on the bed and he gazed with worry at Hermione's now peaceful face.

****

It was dawn when she awoke and placed her hand on his. At the contact Harry jerked awake, righted his glasses and smiled.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hi.” he answered. “You okay?” he moved to adjust her pillows as she sat up.

“I've never been better. I'm a little hungry, but other than that I'm alright.”

“Careful or you'll soon catch up to Ron's appetite.”

“I don't think anyone will ever catch up to Ron's appetite.” Hermione turned her head to the next bed and smiled fondly at the red haired boy lightly snoring with Luna snuggled in his arms. “Luna told me what you did.” Hermione said to him, and she laced her fingers through his.

“When?” he asked.

“Last night. While you two were sleeping. It sounded beautiful, Harry.”

“It was for you,” he said simply and she bit back a smile.

“That was quite a lot of candles.”

Harry chuckled. “Yeah, I thought that too.” he scratched his head and added as an afterthought, “They were Ginny's idea.”

“I thought so. Luna said you were incredibly nervous.”

“Did she? Well, I am wearing Seamus' pants.”

Hermione arched an eyebrow. “My,” she said. “That's certainly something I never dreamed of hearing you say.”

Harry laughed and Hermione patted the spot beside her. “Come here.”

She scooted over and Harry got into the bed beside her and she wrapped her arms around him, her head resting on his chest. Harry drew in a breath. The disc pressed against his skin suddenly jolted him with its icy touch.

“Harry?” Hermione said, pulling slightly away from him. She brought a hand to his chest and gently laid her fingers on the cold surface. She looked up at him questioningly and he reached under his shirt and pulled out the disc that hung from his neck. It was still ice, and yet it was not the cold touch of a dagger pressed against soft skin. Instead, the chill was comforting, slightly alarming, a touch overwhelming, but pleasant just the same.

So this, Harry thought. This is what Ron must have meant by you'd just know.

Hermione's eyes widened at the sight of it. “Harry,” she breathed, “where on earth did you get that?”

“Ron gave it to me earlier. Said he has one for you and himself as well.”

Hermione sat up and took the object in her hand, and gazed at it in wonder. “Where did he get them?”

“Fred and George. They found it in Romania visiting Charlie. According to Ron this isn't just the latest piece of Romanian fashion. It gets cold if someone's feelings towards you are strong.”

“Really? That's amazing,” Hermione said, adjusting herself on the bed and turning the disc in her hands.

“Yeah.” He watched her examine the disc with the very familiar look of fascination etched on her features.

“So,” said Harry, “I guess this means that you're either planning my death or marriage.”

Hermione paused in her inspection and gazed up at him, her eyes sparking with amusement. “Is that so? Well, I haven't got a ring,” she teased.

Harry swallowed and never broke his gaze from hers; the disc was forgotten in her hands. “We don't need a ring,” he said in low voice.

Her smile widened and her cheeks turned pink. “If you want me to kiss you, just say so.”

“Kiss me.”

And so she did.

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