Harry, hovering over her, his warm weight pinning her to a soft bed, lips descending hungrily onto hers. Hermione pulled him closer, fingers gripping him tightly, tasting him, coaxing him. Calloused hands on soft skin and throaty moans and no, please don't stop…
"Hermione…Hermione…"
She awoke slowly to find Harry shaking her gently.
"We're almost to London," he told her, and she nodded, still too lost in her dream to absorb what he'd said.
Of course she'd dreamed about kissing Harry before; extraordinary witch or not, she was still a teenage girl. But the dreams had never been so…real. There was something different about that dream....
"Hermione? You all right?"
Harry. He'd been…strange ever since she'd awoken with her memories returned. Of course, one could expect him to be a bit strange with Voldemort on the offensive, but this was a sort of strange that seemed to revolve solely around her. It was confusing, to say the least.
"I'm fine," she answered him for what had to be the fifth time that day. Ron momentarily joined the conversation with a loud snore that had Crookshanks poking his head out of his basket to investigate.
A moment of unnaturally awkward silence followed - since when did they have awkward silences? - and Hermione had the distinct impression as she looked out the window that Harry was staring at her. When she looked over at him, however, he was staring straight ahead, his gaze resting somewhere on the wall above Ron's sleeping form. Hermione suppressed a sigh of frustration; Harry had been doing that ever since the accident.
Hermione supposed they would have time to work it out - whatever it was - while they were hidden away at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place. To defer Voldemort's attack on Hogwarts, Harry was being taken away to the safest location possible. She and Ron, fortunately, hadn't had to fight hard to be allowed to go with him. After all, they were targets, too - the fewer people Voldemort wanted to get to at Hogwarts, the better.
And so they were on a train to London, where they would stay for Merlin knew how long - presumably, until Harry finally vanquished the Dark Lord. The thought of how uncertain their futures were left her chest feeling crushed, making it hard to breathe. Who knew how long she would spend there, or if she would ever see Hogwarts again, or if she would be killed before she could take her N.E.W.Ts?
Her fears and dashed dreams were somewhat soothed by the knowledge that whatever happened, she would be with Harry. With Harry…and Ron…cooped up in a house for an indeterminate amount of time, unable to leave…. She would go mad quickly, either from bickering with Ron or attempting to endure these new awkward silences with Harry.
But she would not be left behind. That was the most important thing.
~
"Voldemort has laid aside his plans to attack Hogwarts, although information is hard to come by now. Our drastic action has fed his suspicions that one of his men is leaking information to us - he's much too paranoid to give substantial information to anyone."
Harry sighed. "So we have no way of knowing what he's planning now?"
"Not until he grows to trust our spies again," Dumbledore said grimly.
Beside him Hermione made her dissatisfied noise - a puff of air through her nose, not quite a snort, but quite telling just the same. "Do you think he'll still try to attack Harry specifically, Professor?"
"That's debatable. If Voldemort knows of the prophecy as we've suspected, then, yes, he will certainly come after Harry. He'll have a difficult time finding him, however. I wouldn't advise worrying about that possibility yet."
"What's our plan, then?" Hermione asked. "Will we continue schooling here? Are we just going to stay until something happens, or will we go home for the summer?"
Harry tuned out the rest of the conversation, knowing that they would not be leaving any time soon. Ron's family would be there in the summer anyway, and Hermione couldn't go home. There was nothing to protect her there.
Harry watched Hermione speak, eager as always to know precisely what the new order of things would be. His jumbled mind wanted very much to take comfort in her now, and the knowledge that he could not do so left him feeling hollow inside.
"Harry? Harry - we're done," came Hermione's voice through the fog in his head.
"Oh - sorry," Harry said, looking around the kitchen to find it empty.
Hermione smiled and squeezed his shoulder. "Harry, relax a little. We're safe here."
Harry watched her walk out of the room. Somehow, he had a hard time believing her.
~
Hermione forced the boys to resume their studies the next day, but she could tell they were not taking it seriously. Harry hadn't turned a page in his book for an hour, at least, and Ron wasn't even pretending to read. He was staring idly into space. Hermione wanted very badly to tell him off. Perhaps she'd slip some potion into his coffee and see how he liked making up weeks and weeks of homework.
Hermione's eyes shifted back to Harry as he repositioned himself in his chair and went back to pretending to read. Harry's inattentiveness was understandable. Things were worse than ever before for him, trapped in a house he hated and unable to prepare for the fight that was coming. Of course his mind was somewhere else.
And she…she was having a difficult time focusing as well, much as she wished her mind would obey. Her dreams the night before had been again oddly vivid, all starring oddly normal scenes with Harry - sitting in the library, visiting in the hospital wing - but she was in the bed, not him…and then there were more dreams of kissing him. All of the scenes were unnaturally normal to be mere dreams; they played more like memories. But if they were memories, Harry was hiding something very, very big from her - and she had to know why.
Ron yawned noisily and shut his book, tearing her away from her thoughts. "That's it," he said. "I can't take anymore. I'm going to bed before I sustain brain damage."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Ron, the only danger to your brain is that it will atrophy from lack of use."
"Hilarious, Hermione. Hilarious. See you in the morning."
"Goodnight, Ronald."
"Don't you Ronald me," he said from the hallway.
"Go to bed before I bring out the 'Bilius,'" Hermione called back to him, setting aside her book. Harry, looking very relieved, closed his own book. Hermione almost laughed. "I suppose today wasn't the best day to force you two back to the books."
Harry smiled grimly. "Somehow, I don't think transfiguration will help me much against Voldemort."
Hermione shrugged. "If you could turn him into a cockroach, you could step on him."
"If only it were that easy," Harry sighed as he dropped his head back against his chair and closed his eyes.
Always at moments like these, the rushes of emotions would flood into her and overwhelm her normally composed mind. Was it love - real, romantic love? Yes, she felt some manner of lust for Harry, and it was Harry, so there had to be a deeper emotion involved. Everything she felt for Harry was frighteningly powerful and intense. But had she done it - had she made the fatal mistake of falling in love with her best friend?
As Harry continued sitting there with his eyes closed behind his glasses, Hermione felt the familiar panic that always accompanied such thoughts set in. Could he possibly feel the same way? If he doesn't, will it drive us apart? What if I ruin everything and I'm not there for him when he needs me most? What if this isn't really love and I risk everything that matters on my hormones?
And now, new questions crept in - are the dreams real? Did something happen between us in the space I can't remember? Is he hiding it from me? Why? Does he regret it? Did he like me better that way?
Hermione shook her head in hopes of clearing out all of the thoughts. She was taking things too far; she had absolutely no proof that anything had happened yet. Besides, Harry would tell her if something like that had happened. Surely, he would tell her…
After a quiet yawn, Harry opened his eyes and stood, stretching slightly. Hermione resisted all of the impulses her mind was demanding - talk to him, beat the truth out of him, kiss the truth out of him - and said goodnight to him as he left the room.
~
"Hermione…. I have to…Hermione, I have to go away."
No. No, no, no, no, no.
"I have to leave now. Soon. In the morning. I - oh, god, Hermione, I have to leave Hogwarts."
"Leave Hogwarts?"
"It's Voldemort. He's coming for me. As long as I'm here, I'm endangering the rest of the school. I have to go."
Kissing him as if it would help…why were they in the hospital wing? No matter, she wouldn't be there long.
"I'll go with you."
"No."
No, he couldn't leave her behind, not when they'd finally reached each other…not after…no, he couldn't…
"I'm going with you."
"No, you won't. You can't. It's too dangerous… for both of us."
"But that-but that would…"
"I know. We'd be… separating. But I can't… I don't have a choice. Ron'll still be here. He'll look after you, I promise."
"Ron? Harry, you're going to be alone!"
Pain…her head was so heavy…where was the pain coming from?
"We were going to go with you. Ron and I. When the time came, we were going to go with you. But now… I…."
More words and kisses and she couldn't let him go alone and why was the room spinning and no, no, he couldn't leave without her, she had to help him….
Hermione woke abruptly and was surprised to find that she wasn't alone. She almost screamed, but Harry's hand on her cheek soothed her immediately. Harry…why was Harry there?
"Hermione? Are you all right?
"I - no - yes - I think so." Was it a flashback? Why would her brain produce such a scene? They'd already left…her subconscious wouldn't play for her a conflict that had already been resolved…it had to be a memory. "What are you doing here?"
"I went to the loo and on the way back I heard noises - you were whimpering in your sleep."
Hermione almost wrenched herself away from him. They'd been kissing - something had happened and he hadn't told her.
"Harry," she said shakily, forcing back tears, "Harry, I think my dream was actually a memory."
"Really?" Harry said. "What happened?"
"It was at night, and I was in the hospital wing. You came and told me that you had to leave because Voldemort was coming."
Harry paled slightly. "Yes, that…that happened. Right before you passed out…then you woke up with your memories back."
Hermione nodded as a wave of hurt washed over her. Why?
"Harry, in the memory, we were kissing."
Harry stiffened and Hermione knew automatically that her suspicions had been correct all along - here was her proof. It had all really happened, his body language said so, and he hadn't wanted her to know…
"Hermione -"
"Why?" she interrupted, sitting up and forcing him to back away. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Hermione, I know you're angry -"
"Of course I'm angry!" she said, beginning to cry against her will. "You're my best friend…I trust you more than anyone, and you didn't see fit to tell me that we'd been snogging all over the castle? Why, Harry? Did - did you regret it? Did you like me better when I couldn't remember you or who I was? I don't understand."
"Hermione, will you just hear me out?" Harry pleaded, looking so sincere that Hermione couldn't refuse. She nodded for him to continue.
Harry sighed. "I don't regret a thing, Hermione, it's just…when I told you about who I really was - about Voldemort and the prophecy and everything - you said that you loved me, that your memories were gone, but your feelings weren't - that you'd loved me before the accident. And I kissed you. I knew I shouldn't have - I mean, we were just friends before, and I thought maybe you'd had a good reason for that…but then it was too late, and you know how stubborn you are. I talked to you about it, and you just insisted that you would understand when you got your memories back…but then you couldn't remember any of it."
Harry swallowed. "Hermione, I never meant to hurt you. I just…I didn't want to throw that upon you, especially with everything that was going on - it didn't seem fair, to force that upon you whether you really wanted it or not. I thought I'd just…wait and see, you know? If you decided you wanted to be with me…then, well, it would happen."
Hermione wiped at her damp cheeks, not knowing what to feel. Happiness? Harry had wanted to be with her - it was what she'd always hoped for, though she'd never quite admitted it to herself. Loss? She'd received her first kiss and she couldn't remember it…. Had Harry told her he loved her? Had she missed that, too? Was it betrayal? They'd done god-knows-what together, and he hadn't seen the importance in telling her. But Harry had, as always, done what he believed to be right, and as extraordinary as Harry was, he was still a very stupid teenage boy. His heart was in the right place…was there any point in remaining angry at him?
Hermione sighed heavily. "Harry…you should have just told me. It's much easier to come to a decision when you know a decision needs to be made."
"I'm sorry, Hermione," Harry said helplessly. "I'm so sorry."
Hermione nodded, giving in. No matter how angry she was - with Harry and the entire situation alike - there still lurked the possibility that their time was running out. If he needed her, she couldn't refuse him.
"It's all right, Harry."
Harry smiled tentatively. "You're not…you're not still angry with me?"
"I'd very much like to be, but there's no point. Time is too precious -" Hermione broke off as her voice cracked unexpectedly with tears. Harry's smile faded and she wished she'd never said a thing.
Oh, gods, what if there wasn't much time for them? Voldemort would attack soon - either directly or by luring Harry out with an attack on someone else. And what then? If he lived…well, it would be the happy ending she'd always desperately wanted for Harry - and now, it seemed, his happy ending was fully entwined with hers. If Harry - if the worst should happen, how could she possibly go on? The simple fact was that nothing else mattered at all without Harry…nothing else was worth living for….
Harry moved closer and embraced her as her fears overwhelmed her, and she knew the truth beyond a doubt. Her feelings for Harry were beyond anything she could possibly comprehend, deeper than words and more essential to her being than oxygen. How she loved this boy - this reserved, unassuming boy who'd always loved her fully and unconditionally, never asking her to be anything but what she was. He deserved so much more than the life he'd been given.
"Shhh…it's going to be all right, Hermione…it is…."
Hermione clung to him, listening as he tried to convince himself that what he said was true. She pulled him closer and kissed him, trying to comfort him even as tears continued to stream down her face. She could not be consoled by him without trying to ease his pain as well because their pain was no longer distinguishable as one's or the other's. The simple fact was that his pain was her pain, and if one died, so would the other.
It was all painfully, undeniably simple.