Tension
Author's Note: Realize that this is a CANON fiction, so not only will this cover the entire seventh year, but Harry and Hermione are not going to suddenly get all hot and bothered. There will be a time for that, but the Harmony Ship must recover from the horrible beating it took in the sixth book. The Chocolate must be wiped off the decks and the encroaching R/Hr's must be driven off first. Be patient, please. All will come in time. After all, the whole idea of Harry and Hermione Ship is the potential they hold for a deep and transcending love-remember that kind of love isn't developed over short period of time. So as I have said, they will get together despite what you may think in the beginning, but soon we'll see them together as they should have been!
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The tension was fairly palpable. So palpable, in fact, that Harry was positive his potato had peeled itself in response to the hostile environment. Peeled, in fact, just as his best buddy had actually.
He was fine, really, but the other two were starting to get to him. Ron, truly living up to his reputation, was being remarkably transparent in that he was nervous. Hermione, normally dependable in these situations, was oddly fidgety, insecure almost. Together, they were sitting at the table with a person who fit perfectly the definition of a matriarch-the abominable, obstinately stubborn, and stipulated Mrs. Weasley. She sat at the end of the table, separated from the trio, who were sitting directly opposite of her on the other end. At least three chairs sat between them, where the other Weasleys usually occupied.
The silence was deafening, only to be broken by the small and inarticulate pokes of silverware from Harry, Ron, and Hermione and the violent stabs by Mrs. Weasley. All was still except for stray pieces of food flying across the table when Mrs. Weasley got a bit too passionate in her stabs.
Conversation was scarce, non-existent actually. Ron, who had cracked under the pressure remarkably quick, had uttered something about be hungry and ready to eat when Mrs. Weasley had snapped back that he was always hungry and had told him to shut up immediately.
Obviously, motherly instincts had kicked in sending the Mrs. Weasley into a towering mood since they had come yesterday. She had sensed what was going on; even though Harry knew full well she didn't know exactly what was happening. Somehow she had picked up on their odd situations around her.
His courage kicked in and straightened up, immediately catching the eyes of Ron and Hermione.
"Mrs. Weasley, we have something to say."
"Yes," she replied as another cooked carrot took the wrath of her fork.
"Ron, Hermione, and I…." lying would not prove anything, "we are leaving."
Mrs. Weasley violently jabbed her kitchen knife into the pork beef, where it stood quivering. Harry was quite sure it had gone through not only the plate but at least an inch of the table as well. They locked eyes, "No, I don't believe you are."
"We have to Mrs. Weasley"
"As far as I can recall, Harry, the last two times you were with any group someone ended up dieing, I'm pretty sure that I'm not going to let that happen-again."
Harry's countenance turned feral and immediately stiffened as Ron got the courage to speak up.
"Mother!"
Hermione was also now sitting straight up eyes flashing.
"Enough son! He won't kill you too! Absolutely not Potter, you are about to take my son from me on some fool's errand and get him killed," she screamed, now standing up.
Harry refused to let her get to him, even though he was beginning to see red.
Ron however, was not backing down. "He's saved us, Mom, He's saved me, he's saved Ginny, and he's saved Dad!"
This mollified Mrs. Weasley, but she was still as incensed as ever. Harry chose this time to interlude.
"See past your short sightedness, Molly, and believe that what we are going out to do won't just save the life of your son, but the Wizarding world as well. I understand where you are coming from, the love from you to anyone would make any mother jealous. But you must practice some foresight. Let us go Molly."
The room had gone deathly quiet.
Harry did not back down, "We could have just left, you know, but we felt obligated to tell you. You've been too good to us to deserve anything less. I know I haven't seen many families, but I can tell you that Ron could not have a better mother and Hermione and I are so lucky to have a second one."
Mrs. Weasley knew she should be mad, incensed, anything, but there was just something about Harry. Something that made him so instantly likeable that it was intoxicating. Now that she thought about it, she was mad, yet she felt some unspoken barrier not letting her speak. A sudden thought appeared in her head that spoke of a likeness to Dumbledore, but it went away quickly.
"Molly, I'm not begging, and I do not honestly need your opinion for we are of age, and our choice is our own. But I can tell you that it would do wonders to your me, your son, and Hermione if we could go with your permission and well wishes."
Again, Molly was in shock. This was not the shy, insecure little boy she had seen at the platform. Here was an adult. He had grown up now. Tears sprang unbidden as Harry suddenly took a new light. She could actually follow him now, and feel completely comfortable with it. She suddenly gained insight on why Ron was so stuck to Harry when she had tried countless times to have him distance himself. He could not help wanting to be with Harry and neither could she.
"Good luck Harry, Ron, and Hermione," she sniffed. Harry immediately smiled-one of the few he had graced anyone with since the funeral-while Ron went to comfort his mom and Hermione wiped a few tears of her own.
Harry caught eyes with Mrs. Weasley and voiced an unspoken "thank you" and turned to help Hermione up to their rooms-Ron and his mother obviously needed some alone time.
And as he saw Hermione dejectedly go up the stairs ahead of him, it suddenly occurred to him that she hadn't said a thing throughout the entire sequence.
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It took about ten seconds of Harry sitting in his room alone to pick up the piece of mind to find Hermione.
Coming to her door he knocked, "Can I come in?"
Silence, then "Come on in Harry."
Hermione had already changed into her pajamas, and the lights were off. She was lying somewhat hunched up on the left side of her bed. Even in the dim light provided by the moon, he could pick up her sad face. If he hadn't been looking for her, he could have easily passed her as a sorrowfully thrown blanket.
Picking up a chair he pulled up right to where she was staring off the bed and immediately caught her brown eyes in his.
"What's wrong Hermione?"
More silence.
After struggling for words for a couple seconds, Hermione completely refused to answer and ended up turning her head down and silently began to cry. Harry felt helpless, but merely rubbed small circles on her back as she shook silently.
As much as he wanted to shake her, look her in the eye, and ask what was going on, he knew his friend needed her time and a certain distance. She had been rather off since they had gotten on the train ride-Silent, brooding, and insecure. It was scary, to see his best friend lower her defenses so willingly, so helplessly. It was as though she lost a part of herself and was lost-groping around helplessly.
It wasn't just Dumbledore's death, something was bothering her, something deep and something that was making her feel…
Could she be feeling guilty?
The thought rang true and he was immediately gripped by a sense of urgency. It was what his senses were telling him. However, his mind was not quite making the connection as to why. He had somewhat of an inkling of what might be bothering Hermione but he let it slide. It would come out in time. And if it didn't, well, he'd get it out of her.
But for now he would just be there for her. It was true that she hadn't been there as much for him this year at all, but things happened. He couldn't blame her for distancing herself as she did from him and wanting a normal life. Normalcy simply was not an integral part of his life. She may not have been the best friend she could have been this past year, but she had been, and it was his turn to try to repay her.
Something in his chest clenched and his breathe hitched as he looked down at his fallen friend. He didn't know what it was or what it meant, but he knew right then, more than any other moment that she was special to him in a way he could not describe.
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When Hermione awoke, Harry had slumped against the bed post, still sitting and his hand loyally remaining on her back. She had never felt so warm before in her life. His devotion was so pure it almost made her cry again.
It was heavily upon her that she didn't deserve his friendship. She had made sure of that the past year through her actions and betrayal of trust. Yet here he was…loyal as ever. Her Harry, there for her, as he had always been from the very beginning. There was just something about him that was so easy to love.
She closed her eyes once more and slept.
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Harry awoke and saw that Hermione was sleeping peacefully, no longer in a hunched position but in a relaxed one. At least on of us is.
Harry sat up and stretched and leaned back on his chair. It was only then that he noticed Ginny's empty bed sitting across the room. She was spending the night at the twin's flat for some reason or another.
A deep green bedspread covered it and it was surrounded by some Quidditch posters but mostly by girly things-those accessories that always confused him so bad. He smiled; the room was strongly reminiscent of Ginny-sporty, but feminine in a way that none could dispute.
The sun was shining through and he could not help but think of their happy times down the lake….it was certainly sunny then…
But circumstances had intervened, as they always had in Harry's life. Nothing good seemed to last very long and he had been forced to take actions he did not regret. He missed Ginny, he did severely, but he did not regret his decision whatsoever.
Struck by a sudden moment of inspiration, Harry sat up and made his way to the other side of the room. Unbeknownst to him, Hermione had woken up and carefully watched him.
Harry grabbed a piece of paper and quill and wrote a little note. Setting it down, he made his way to Ginny's bed, made it and pulled back the covers.
Hermione was not the most girly type of girl one could meet, but she was touched deeply by what she knew Harry was doing.
Harry walked over to the paper, picked it up and slipped it on the pillow he had just primped up. Slowly and with care he pulled the covers back over the pillow and note. Harry then made his way back to Hermione (where upon Hermione promptly closed her eyes) and dutifully waited for her to wake.
Hermione, still touched, settled down once more thinking that she was so glad she had helped Ginny get Harry…they were so happy together. She only hoped that her own endeavors had been more successful.
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A/N: Hope you liked it! The next installment will provide Harry and Hermione a private talk, and even more, a living residence without Ron. Sounds like there is a lot of potential for them to develop-which there is-but remember…..ssssssllllloooooowwww =)
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