Torn

A/N: Sorry about the long wait. I'd come up with a fantastic far fetched excuse but I don't seem to have the effort. Hope you're all satisfied with this though because I sure as hell am not, but I must start somewhere right? At least I got over my bout of writer's block. Enjoy and reviews would be nice. Just let me know what you think.

*****

“Stop fighting,” Harry breathed into her ear as he kissed his way down the column of her neck, sending shivers through her. “You want me just as much.”

Hermione whimpered in answer.

“Let it happen, love. Let it come.”

Her senses were heightened to every aspect of him. His smell. His voice. She could feel his feather light kisses dragging tantalizingly across her skin. She could feel his hands trailing blazing fires along her cheek, her throat, her abdomen. Arching against him, her lips brushed against his ear as she whispered his name; part fervent plea, part anguished refusal.

Lost in every breath of him, always wanting more, she wrapped her arms around him and reached for what she craved for with her entire being.

“Let me inside you,” Harry moaned in a heated whisper before her lips finally claimed his.

She opened her eyes.

A sheet of white tile filled her vision. Strings of dripping hair fell over her eyes and she pushed it away with a heavy sigh. Hermione braced her hands on the wall before her, and shut her eyes for mere moments before forcing them open once more. She could still see him, hear him, feel him. It all seemed so real.

The water beat upon her back as she rested her head against the cold wall, desperately chasing away the remnants of her dream. She had awoken, damp with perspiration, clutching the bed sheets. His name on her lips still rang in her ears and she shut her eyes in shame.

I have more control than this.

Hermione turned off the shower lest they thought she was attempting to drown herself and quickly dressed. Parvati, rubbing her eyes, sleepily mumbled her greetings and shut the washroom door behind her. Lavender was just climbing out of bed.

“Hello.”

“Morning.”

Lavender stifled a yawn and raked her fingers through her hair.

“You're up early.”

“I couldn't sleep,” Hermione said as she picked up her brush on her bed table.

“I heard.”

The brush froze mid stroke.

“You did?”

“Mmmhmm,” Lavender sounded as she rummaged through her trunk for clothing.

Hermione forced her growing embarrassment down and kept all pretence of indifference. “What, er, did you hear, exactly?”

“Oh, nothing. Well nothing important anyway -should I wear the blue do you think?”

“Sure.” She bit her lip. “So it was nothing important. Right.”

Lavender turned and smiled reassuringly. “Relax, love. It was nothing embarrassing if that's what you're getting at,” she shrugged and placed the items of clothing in front of her as she modeled before the mirror. “I talk in my sleep as well if that makes you feel better.”

“Quite.”

“Though I did hear a certain someone mentioned,” Lavender exclaimed with a cheeky smile in her direction.

“Oh, Lord.”

“Then again, it's none of my business if something is going on between the two of you-”

“Nothing is going o-”

“Now that's exactly what I gathered, what with the current formalities or lack thereof.”

“Excuse me?” Hermione asked incredulously, the brush now completely forgotten in her hands.

“I'm not blind, Hermione. If you want him, indifference is not the way to catch him.”

“Are you completely insane? I absolutely do not fancy Harry. We're just frie- erm, recent events should clearly show my feelings for him.”

“Hmm, yes.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“Well, `recent events' clearly show that you're in denial,” Lavender put simply.

“I am not.”

“Oh, really? Well then, since you don't fancy Harry, I guess you wouldn't mind me going out with him.”

The very idea of such a thing placed a sour taste in Hermione's mouth and she began to run the brush through her hair once again. She swallowed hard before she answer stiffly, “Really, Lavender, you're free to ask him out if you choose.”

Lavender pursed her lips in thought, her eyes twinkled merrily. “Then again, I don't believe there's a point, seeing as he's completely infatuated with another girl.” She could just see Hermione bursting with the effort to hold her curiosity in. Her jerking movements with the hair brush displayed her blatant agitation.

After a few agonizing moments in which Lavender thought Hermione was going to snatch herself bald, there was a sniff followed by an indifferent: “Really? Who?”

“You.”

She could feel his hands trailing blazing fires along her cheeks, her throat, her abdomen…“Let me inside you.”

Hermione blinked.

“That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard.”

Lavender finally turned to face her, eyebrows raised.

“Is it?”

The door opened in a burst of steam and an extremely refreshed and wide awake Parvati strode out.

“Are you two ready for the big game?”

“I will be once you let me have a turn in the shower.”

“It's all yours. Are you alright, Hermione? You look a bit flushed.”

“Oh, I'm fine,” Hermione said, forcing a smile.

“You must be worried about Harry-”

“Something like that,” Hermione mumbled under her breath as Parvati continued, “-He'll be alright. I know he hasn't played in quite some time but, well, he's Harry. He's been through worse right?”

“Of course,” Hermione winced, expecting a retort, but was met with only silence in her head. It was wondrous.

“Well,” Lavender said, finally coming out of the washroom. “Let's be off shall we?”

****

The sun was in his eyes. He squinted and glanced at the Gryffindor stands in hopes to be rid of the piercing glare. A pair of eyes met his, sending a sudden jolt through him and he tore his gaze away, flustered. Harry shook his head to rid his mind of everything but the game at hand. A shrill sound rang in his ears and he kicked off the ground. The wind rushed through him, tossing his hair about. Immediately his eyes began to scan the pitch, searching for a spot of gold. High above the stands, high over the raised heads, and squinting eyes he was a swirling speck of crimson circling the skies.

“Watch it, Harry!” Colin shouted and Harry swerved to the right, barely dodging the bludger aimed at his head. He shook his hair out of his eyes and continued to scan the pitch. To his right he saw Malfoy's eyes dart to and for as he too scanned the area like a hawk. Not a cloud dusted the sky, and Harry revelled in the feeling of being absolutely free. It was here, in the sky, on his broom, circling the pitch, where he could dash all his troubles and dwell only in finding that one elusive speck of gold. It was here where he could push all thoughts of a certain brown eyed witch out of his mind. For in the safety of the sky he had only one goal in mind. Get the snitch. So whenever Malfoy's voice managed to carry itself across the din, Harry only clenched his jaw and continued to search madly for the prize. Whenever a bludger whizzed by him, barely missing a much needed body part, he'd only shake it off and continue to search. And whenever a certain head of bushy hair caught his eye, he'd tear his gaze away and berate himself for his weakness. He'd rise higher in the sky, eyes forcibly scanning the pitch with fervour. This said action happened twice more until out of the corner of his eye, he spotted the familiar golden glow.

He dove after it.

All sound faded into nothing as Harry weaved around the players, and sank low onto his broom to avoid a bludger aimed in his direction. To the spectators he was nothing but a red blur whizzing around the goal posts. He shot to the sky, the snitch in plain sight. His hair whipped across his face. His robes billowed behind him and he raced towards his prize. “Come on, just a bit further,” he urged his broom. Without thought he raised himself over the broom. With one arm keeping him steady, he threw the other out towards the snitch, fingers barely grazing its golden surface.

“Bit more.”

He was mildly aware of Colin shouting at him, and from the corner of his eye a haze of green made a sharp turn to the left. The muscles in his arm ached with strain as he stretched towards the prize. With a grunt, and a final swipe he managed to catch a hold of the snitch, its silvery wings fluttering feebly in his grasp.

A series of groans were drowned out by a deafening roar and Harry immediately became aware of an overwhelming feeling rising within his chest. A smile began to touch the corners of his mouth.

Then a hard object collided with the side of his head, snapping it to the side, twisting him off his broom and knocking him senseless.

*****

The doors to the infirmary burst open.

“Excuse me Madame Pomfrey but I'm here to see-”

“Harry. Yes, I know. Just find the bed swarming with students,” Madam Pomfrey answers with a sigh, “and as I've told every visitor who has walked through these doors, you have ten minutes with the boy. Merlin knows he needs his rest though I don't know how he'll attain any with all of you crowding the area.”

Colin sputtered his thanks and made his way to a bed circled with crimson. “H-How is he?” Colin asked, pushing up the sleeves of his robe.

Ron turned to him, his face pale. “Madame Pomfrey says he'll be okay. Cracked skull, but nothing that she can't fix.”

“It's all my fault. I should have got it.”

“Don't be stupid, Colin. It's that git who sent the bludger.”

“It's no one's fault, Ron. It was an accident. Crabbe hit the bludger long before Harry caught the snitch.”

Colin looked up to see an equally pale Hermione standing at the opposite side of the bed.

“What, you're sticking up for that Slytherin git now, Hermione? God, I never knew the day would come when you'd stand by a Slytherin instead of your best friend.”

“I am not standing by a Slytherin,” Hermione huffed with flushed cheeks.

“Then what are you doing making excuses for bleeding Crabbe then, eh?” Ron shouted, now clearly angered.

“For your information, Ron, I was not making an excuse. I was merely stating what I saw!”

“So you're saying you saw Crabbe manage a brilliant feat of some hand and eye coordination, and Colin here deliberately missing the bludger so Harry could yet again get knocked senseless and spend some quality time with Madame Pomfrey?!”

“That's not what I meant!” she shouted, now close to tears.

“What is going on here?” A voice sounded shrilly.

The students by the bed jumped as Madame Pomfrey approached with hands on her hips. “This is an infirmary. Not a playground. Now off with you. I won't have anyone else shouting about utter nonsense when I have patients that need rest. All of you, out,” she said firmly with a finger pointing to the door.

The Gryffindors filled out into the corridor and once outside, Colin looked nervously from Hermione to Ron. One was staring daggers at his best friend while the other only graced him with a turn of her head and arms crossed over her chest.

“What, was that all about?” Ginny spoke up, coming between the two of them.

“Ask her. She seems to know where her loyalty lies,” Ron muttered.

Eyes widened in disbelief, Hermione turned to retort but was interrupted by Ginny's glare. “Look, I don't care who's fault it is. We still won and Harry is going to be fine. So Ron, I don't want you pointing any fingers at anyone. And Hermione, I don't know why you're getting so riled up over this as you've clearly made your feelings known about Harry.”

Colin turned to see Hermione's reaction to this and was surprised to see her lip slightly tremble, but within a moment she composed herself, raised her chin and with a whispered, “Congratulations”, she turned on her heel and walked away. Ginny sighed as she watched her friend's retreating back. She turned to her brother.

“Well?”

“Well, what?”

“Aren't you going to go after her?”

“Why should I?” Ron said half heartedly and Ginny's eyes flared.

“Don't you give me that, Ron. We both know that she still cares for Harry, no matter how hard she tries to hide it. Now you better go after her and apologize for shouting or I swear I'll hex you.”

Ron brushed past Colin as he made his way down the hall. Colin looked at his feet and pushed his sleeves up once more.

“I still am sorry,” he said quietly.

“Oh, Colin don't be. Harry's probably used to this by now anyway.”

“Used to what?”

“Getting hurt at almost every quidditch game he plays.”

*****

If she closed her eyes she could hear the sickening crack of the bludger making contact with Harry's skull. This was why Hermione was adamantly scanning the book before her in hopes to get her mind of her best friends. She's had many arguments with Ron but few were about Harry, and none had ever gotten her so angry. She could almost hear the Dark Lord's mocking laugh in her head. He didn't even have to do a thing. All Harry had to do was play as much quidditch as he could and all Voldemort would have to do is just sit back and watch. Hermione found herself once again thanking whatever god that was out there for creating Madame Pomfrey, and cursing whatever wizard who created the accursed game called Quidditch. “It's not even that exciting anyway,” she muttered to herself, half expecting a quip from the Dark Lord. When none came she was torn between feeling relieved or worried.

“Hello, Hermione.” A voice sounded and Hermione jumped. She turned to find Luna making her way to the table she was seated at.

“Hello, Luna.”

Luna set her books down and took out her parchment while Hermione looked around to see if there were any other empty tables. Unfortunately for her there weren't and fortunately for Luna, she seemed oblivious to Hermione's sniff of disproval at the sight of the Quibbler sitting on top of the books.

“That was a rather exciting game don't you think?” Luna said with a smile as she searched for the quill that perched neatly in her ear.

“Harry got hurt.”

“Yes, he did,” Luna answered with a vacant smile while triumphantly plucking her quill from its spot and getting to work. “This must make you happy of course.”

Hermione blinked.

“Why on earth should I be happy that Harry's in the hospital wing?” she asked, thinking that the girl was definitely unhinged.

“Because now you can talk to him and tell him that you love him,” Luna said rather bluntly.

“What?” Hermione spluttered. She did admit to that she did have feelings for Harry, but Love?

“Harry does not have anywhere else to go and the guilt for staying away from him will get to you. You will have to tell him,” Luna said as if this was the most natural conversation in the world.

Hermione wasn't sure if she should stand up and storm off or sit there with her mouth hung open in disbelief that such a person existed. She was at a loss for words. Luna patted Hermione on the arm with a smile.

“Hello, Ronald.”

Luna's eyes were focused over Hermione's shoulder and she stiffened at the name.

“Er, hi Luna. Hermione, can I talk to you?”

Hermione looked up at Ron, the argument washed over her. “Yes, of course Ron.”

Ron turned to Luna who was looking up expectantly at him. His eyes darted around wondering if she was going to leave or not. When Luna didn't make a move Ron just gave her a weak smile and took a seat beside her. Luna went to work.

“Listen, about earlier-”

“It's alright, Ron. I'm sorry for yelling at you.”

“Yeah, me too.” They smiled at each other and he leaned across the table to have a look at her book. “So what are you working on?”

Luna looked up from her work, suddenly interested.

“Oh, um,” she stuttered as she gathered her notes together. “It's just light reading.”

“Do you usually take notes while you do that?” Ron asked trying to sneak peeks at the parchment, but Hermione kept it hidden from view and Luna went back to her research.

“Of course,” Hermione said smiling weakly at him.

Ron gave her a suspicious look and Luna started humming a familiar tune as she turned the page.

*****

He was encased in white. Harry swallowed and fumbled for his glasses. He blinked as his vision came suddenly into focus. He was in the infirmary, and he felt like he had run into a brick wall head first.

“Great to see you're awake, mate.” Ron's face suddenly filled his vision.

“What happened?” Harry rasped and cleared his throat.

“Bludger bashed your head in. Still got the snitch though so it's alright.”

“So we won?”

“Spectacularly.”

Harry tried to sit up but the room started spinning so he shut his eyes for a few moments waiting for everything to get back to normal.

“Where's Hermione?”

The grin on Ron's face vanished. “Oh, erm, she's in the library catching up on work and all.”

“Oh.”

Harry was half hoping that any minute she'd come bursting through the doors dizzy with worry and begging for his forgiveness. The doors remained shut though and Ron and only Ron still stood by his bed. Harry's heart sank. She didn't come to see me? Harry's head sank deeper into the pillows and he wished for the darkness to encase him once more.

“She was here this morning though. You were still out.”

Harry's ears perked up at this and he asked, “Did she say anything?”

Ron looked at his feet. “Erm, no, mate. No she didn't. But she came and that says something right?”

“Yeah.”

Harry grew quiet once more and in an effort to have him smiling again Ron said, “Listen, I know for a fact that you have a chance. She was really worried about you, mate.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, tears and everything. Yelled too.”

“Yelled?” Harry said with confusion etched across his face.

“Well we had this gigantic row- no no, just listen- we had this gigantic row about Crabbe, you and Colin.”

“What? Colin?”

“Oh it was fantastic. I never saw her so angry in ages. The plan worked perfectly, mate.”

“Plan? Wait, what plan?”

“The one I came up with of course,” Ron said as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.

“You came up with a plan to have a huge row with Hermione over me, Crabbe and Colin?”

“Actually the original idea was just to get her angry over you. Your deciding to throw yourself off your broom with your eyes closed was a bonus.”

“Always happy to help.” Harry winced as he pushed himself to a seating position and Ron helped to raise his pillow for him. “So how long have you been planning this?”

“Oh, I dunno. A day, maybe two? Had some help from Seamus and Dean of course. You want some water?”

“Hang on. Do you mean to tell me,” Harry said slowly. “that you've been talking to Seamus and Dean, behind my back, about my love life?”

“Actually it wasn't really behind your back. We mostly talked while you were sleeping. Was loads easier that way.”

“What?” Harry asked incredulously, but Ron waved him off.

“But that doesn't matter, Harry. What does is that we now know she still fancies you, and for some strange reason she's either experiencing a really bad case of denial or this is her way of expressing her undying love.”

There was a pause between them until, “I'm sorry. I'm still on the part where you'd secretly plot your campaign for love with Seamus and Dean, while I was sleeping.”

“Your curtains were closed. You were asleep. End of discussion.”

“How does that even-”

“Harry. We're talking about you're love life here, mate. Please focus.”

****

Two days without a voice in her head. She was beginning to wonder if he had finally gave up on her. Hmm, not likely. She thought to herself, but a piece of her smiled smugly knowing that the thought was hers and hers alone. She shifted the weight of books in her arms and almost paused in her tracks. This was foolish, he wouldn't be awake yet. She knew Ron had gone to see him earlier, but she didn't have the chance to ask him if Harry has awoken. Still, one day was one day too many to miss class, and as she had been reminding herself and everyone within speaking distance, N.E.W.T.S. were fast approaching.

So here she was on her way to the hospital wing, carrying homework for a wizard who not only might not even be conscious but who'll also be very well angry with her. And he has every right too as I've been absolutely horrible to him. She sighed as she once again shifted tomes of books in her arms then yawned. With the absence of Voldemort she had been searching even harder, wondering when he would decide to make his presence known and mock her for her fruitless efforts. Still there was no hurt in trying. Add the load of proper school work, and her problems with Harry and she was one emotionally and mentally exhausted witch.

Not that she tried lifting any of the weight off her shoulders. She had gone looking for help from the one person she knew could offer the most: Dumbledore. But that affair didn't even go as well as she planned. For one thing she never even got to speak to him. The moment she had gotten the chance to talk to the Headmaster, she had panicked and a feeling of hope had surged through her. She had ran to her Headmaster in the hallway and approached him breathlessly. He had looked down at her kindly with a hint of surprise in his eyes, and she opened her mouth to spill everything. Professor Dumbledore I'm so glad I found you. I don't think my mind is my own. Professor I know this may sound strange but I think that Voldemort has found a way of getting to Harry by controlling me.

“Hello, Professor, how are you?” Was what she had said instead, and something inside her paused and thought Wait, that's wrong.

“Good Afternoon Miss Granger. I hope everything is well?” Dumbledore had greeted.

She wanted to shake her head in answer but found herself smiling and nodding instead. What's wrong? Why can't I… Professor, something is horribly wrong. I can hear Voldemort in my head, and I've been having strange dreams with him in it. Professor, you have to help me.

“Everything is fine Professor, but I just need to ask you one question.”

“Of course, Miss Granger. What is it that you'd like to ask?”

Voldemort is inside my head!

“Why did you allow Harry to play quidditch again?” Was what Hermione had found herself saying. She felt like screaming but her features remained a mask over her true desires.

Dumbledore then went on to describe that he knew she wasn't a fan but Harry clearly loved the sport and with the lack of a new seeker, he felt that Harry would have been glad to take up his old post once more.

“I know that you worry often about him, but there is no need. Hogwarts will always keep an eye on all of its students. Mr. Potter will be safe.”

Against her will she thanked him and he left her. Voldemort's last parting words before he took his leave for the past two days still sent shivers through her. She remembered feeling confused and overwhelming sense of fear as the cold voice filled the crevices of her mind once more, “You did not think that I would make it that easy for you, did you child?”

“How did you… he didn't even notice..”

“Yes, that is one accomplishment that I do so relish. The old fool's ignorance. You would be wise to take my advice my dear. Don't. Do that. Again. The consequences will be far worse I assure you.”

Then he was gone.

Now it's been two days and she hasn't heard from him since. She was free for the moment. She never felt more alone. As she approached the doors, she shook he head to clear her thoughts and paused. Did she really want to do this? What if he was awake? What if he awoke while she was there? At that moment, Luna's words crept up on her and she pushed them away with a snort. Love indeed. It was nothing but a silly crush. She was protecting him. If faced with the same circumstance he would do the same as would Ron. Luna was just being silly.

Then caught unawares, a certain image from a certain dream decided to surface and her cheeks grew pink as her lips quirked into a smile. She caught herself suddenly and shook her head violently, pressing the books in her arms closer to her chest.

“Oh, honestly. This is absolutely ridiculous,” she said to herself with a huff and pushed the doors open.

A new silence filled her which was much different from the one in the empty corridor she had left. She quickly grew respectfully quiet. Hermione had always felt upon stepping into doctor's offices or hospitals that she was in some sort of sacred place and uttering a sound would awaken a certain patient in need of much rest. She didn't know where this feeling grew from, as her parents were both dentists and their offices definitely did not need absolute silence in fear a sensitive patient would violently awaken and die. But the feeling was there just the same.

Without warning, and much like a mother hen sensing her chicks could be in danger, Madame Pomfrey suddenly materialized before her. She eyed the books in Hermione's hands.

“Hello Madame Pomfrey. May I see Harry? I just want to give him his work. He's missed a lot already.”

“He's in no condition to work, Miss Granger,” she said sternly.

“Oh,” Hermione said in a quiet voice, but she wouldn't leave without at least seeing him. “Can I just leave them by his bedside then, Madame Pomfrey. I'll only be a minute. I just want to see him.”

Madame Pomfrey pursed her lips as if contemplating the situation. Then with a nod she gestured Hermione forward saying, “Five minutes Miss Granger and nothing more.”

“Thank you.”

Hermione pulled aside the curtain hiding Harry from view and smiled to see him still in bed. He seemed to be sleeping peacefully. She sighed and stepped forward. His dark hair was tousled and served as a great contrast against the pristine sheets that seemed to swallow him.

“Hello,” Hermione said softly. “How are you feeling? Oh what a foolish question.”

She paused and looked at him, wondering when he would wake up. His chest slowly rose and fell underneath the covers. A glass of water sat on the table by his bed which was crowded with all sorts of gifts ranging from get well chocolate, to get well beans, to get well pictures of him being hit by the bludger again and again. Courtesy of Denis Creevy. Hermione added her get well homework to the table.

“I brought you your work, but since you're clearly incapacitated at the moment, I'll just leave it right here.”

With nothing to keep her hands occupied Hermione brought them behind her back. She looked down at him, wishing to see the familiar green gaze. She wondered if there would ever be a time when Harry could participate in any extracurricular activities without being injured or blacking out.

Without a thought, Hermione brought a hand out to smooth his hair across his forehead.

“Don't you ever scare me like that again, Harry.”

Harry didn't answer her, then again how could he? He was still unconscious. Hermione seemed to struggle with herself as she fussed with the bed sheets. Her gaze fully focused on the person lying before her, she whispered, “I'm sorry.” Her own voice rang in her ears and she hoped that he was truly gone so she could at least have one last time truly alone with Harry.

“I'm sorry,” she said once more, hoping that he could hear her. Then at least something inside her could be at peace. Something inside her could rest if it only knew that Harry understood the reason for her actions.

“It has to happen. I don't want it to, but we can't control those things can we?” She looked at her hands. “No matter what I say, and no matter what I do, no matter how much things change between us I want you to remember how it was in the past. And don't let go.” She felt the tears threatening to fall and she took a step back.

“W-well, I… I guess I'll see you tomorrow then. Stay safe, Harry. Goodnight.” With that, she left the room as quick as she could. “Thank you and goodnight, Madame Pomfrey,” her voice sounded and Madame Pomfrey echoed her farewell.

The sound of Hermione's footsteps faded away, the door swung shut behind her, and it was at that moment that Harry opened his eyes.

He smiled.

“Night, Hermione.”

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