A/N: This is it, folks! The last of the pre-written chapters. I worked on Chapter 26 a bit on the way to Wisconsin but it's pretty hard to write by hand with bumpy roads, and even harder when your laptop is in danger of shutting down from overheating. Therefore I've got like…two pages. I'll be working on it as much as I can but it usually takes me about two weeks to pump out a chapter if I put my mind to it. Please bear with me!
Also a bit of warning on this one: Hermione's going to have a bit of a breakdown in this one. A lot of people on FF.net tried to tell me she was acting OOC, but to be completely honest, this was the only way I could explain what happened in HBP. So here we go - please don't kill me!
And now a disclaimer, in the style of Bob and Alyx, authors of Sunset Over Britain, who have inspired me to get a little more creative with them. Me ranting about wanting to own the Potterverse is getting old, so here you go. :o)
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"Um, hi." A clearly nervous young man steps into view, blinking at the harsh light. "Call me Lang. I'm uh, here to tell you that the author of this story, Crystal H., does not own the Potterverse. Occasionally she rants at how she should and how she'd do a much better job of it, but-OW!"
Lang is prodded with an incredibly long metal pole.
"Okay, fine, I'll do this right! Crystal does not lay any claim to anything Harry Potter related, or otherwise created by JKR. Any original ideas are hers, and some of them also belong to mathiasgranger. There, is that good enough?" he asks, glancing nervously to one side.
Crystal steps out, giving him a thoughtful look. "I suppose, but there's one more thing I need you to do," she says in a chilling voice.
Lang looks extremely nervous as she whips out a wand and points it at him, muttering an incantation. With a loud crack his body starts to change and shift as if he were taking Polyjuice Potion.
"What the sodding-" Lang says, looking down at himself. He finds knobbly fingers and a black, potion-stained robe. Realization dawns on him as his hands fly to his head, fingers slipping through the slimy mess. "Snape? You turned me into Snape?"
A grin settles on Crystal's face. "Payback for that little bit you started with. You'll be dealt with properly in the next disclaimer. Oh, and wash your hair before Chapter 26, would you?"
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Harry awoke the next morning with a blinding headache that could easily compete with the interference from Riddle in regards to pain levels. As he groaned and shuffled himself about uncomfortably on the sofa he noticed that, some time during the night, Hermione had tucked herself into his arms. He was reminded of the morning that they had woken up together after dinner in Paris, and when his stomach began to lurch he had a fleeting thought that at least this time, he was expecting her to be there.
A few agonizing minutes later he returned from his time with the toilet to the suite common room where he found Hermione waking up in a worse state than he'd been. He barely had time to duck out of the way as she rocketed towards the loo, one hand clutching at her mouth and the other at her stomach. Resting back on the sofa, Harry gingerly let his head land on the pillow that had been squashed at some point during the night.
His eyes fell upon two bright blue bottles on the table before him, accompanied by a scrap of parchment. Doing his best to tune out the gut-turning retching sounds coming from the direction of the bathroom, he made a swipe for the note and nearly knocked one of the bottles over in the process.
Mr. Potter and Ms. Granger,
I'm glad to see that you have settled into the Heads suite for your stay; hopefully it is well suited to your needs, should you decide to make the stay a more permanent one.
The blue bottles are an old family recipe for a Hangover Remedy. You'll each need to drink the full contents; you were quite inebriated upon your return to the castle last night.
When you two are feeling up to it, please visit my office this afternoon. Anything you may need throughout the day can be brought by the Hogwarts elves, if necessary.
Sincerely,
Minerva
Hermione settled herself back onto the sofa next to Harry just as he downed the potion that McGonagall had left behind. He silently passed the second bottle to Hermione, motioning for her to do the same. A few moments later they were able to enjoy their morning with clear heads and no lingering traces of nausea.
Realizing that they were both still dressed in clothing from the previous night, they made their way to their respective rooms and quickly put on something clean that didn't reek of Hippogriff Hammers and Red-Headed Slags.
Harry? Hermione called out.
Yes?
Can we go to the hospital wing before we get breakfast? As hungry as Hermione was feeling after emptying the contents of her stomach, she wanted to check on Ginny's condition and pass on the news that she and Harry had determined which drink might be able to snap her out of her coma.
"Sure thing, luv," he said, sneaking up behind her to wrap her in a hug. Hermione had just pulled her shirt over her head mere seconds before he had entered her room. Twisting in his arms to face him, Hermione brought her lips to his for a good morning kiss. Shortly after they made their way towards the hospital wing, holding hands and ignoring the catcalls from several of the portraits.
The Gryffindors walked into the hospital wing to see Madam Pomfrey carefully administering potions to a still comatose Ginny. She raised her head wearily, eyeing the teens. "She should be fully awake some time this afternoon," she said in way of greeting, turning her attention back to Ginny. "Professor McGonagall told me that you two have found some way of getting this potion out of her system, which is more than I've been able to do. I'll get word to you as soon as she's awake." Madam Pomfrey casually dismissed them, pulling the curtains around Ginny's bed.
"Well, that was helpful," snorted Harry as they left the room. "She didn't even say good morning."
"Can you blame her, Harry?" admonished Hermione. "She's spent probably the entire time since we brought Ginny here trying to help her, and thinks she might wake up this afternoon. She has no way of counteracting the Obeir potion, and all we had to do was go get sloshed in town and pick a drink. I'd be grumpy too if I were her."
Harry recognized that, as always, his girlfriend was right. Rather than admit it, he took her hand and led her towards the kitchens. He'd thought of summoning Dobby to bring them breakfast in their suite but knew Hermione would lecture him about house elf rights, even though Dobby was considered free. Avoiding the fight before it could even begin he opted for the direct approach and soon they found themselves in front of the large portrait of fruit. Stretching his arm to tickle the pear, the portrait swung aside and let them into the kitchens.
As sweet as Harry's intentions of avoiding any confrontation in regards to house elves had been, the memory that the kitchens were entirely staffed by elves had completely escaped his mind. Hermione was seething as she watched the elves bustling about, preparing meals for the professors and staff that remained at Hogwarts over the holiday. Harry, however, was starving and focused on finding himself a meal.
"Harry Potter, sir!" Dobby exclaimed, rushing towards Harry at an alarming rate. His bat-like ears flapped as he skidded to a halt. "Dobby is most excited to see Master Potter again!"
Harry resisted the urge to groan. "I'm not your master, Dobby," he reminded the elf gently, bending to greet the creature.
Dobby goggled at him with glowing green eyes. Harry often vehemently denied his claim to the elf when confronted with the title of Master, but it didn't faze Dobby. He would always refer to the bespectacled wizard in that manner. "What can Dobby do for Harry Potter and his Hermy?"
Glancing at Hermione with the intention of determining what she'd like for breakfast, Harry was rewarded with a glare of imminent proportions.
"What?" asked Harry stupidly, searching her eyes.
Hermione began to turn a violent shade of red that would have made Vernon Dursley proud, had he been alive to see it. She looked purposefully around the room at the elves working in servitude, clueing Harry in to the reason behind her anger.
Harry flushed. Sorry, he whispered in her mind. My stomach was thinking more prominently than my brain.
Hermione had always known that there were a large number of elves working for Hogwarts, which was why she tried to desperately to free them in her fifth year with magically knitted hats strategically placed about the common room. Seeing them all in one confined space was a different matter entirely, and it rammed home the reminder that she had largely ignored S.P.E.W. for the majority of her sixth year at Hogwarts.
Her lower lip began to tremble as she felt an overwhelming sense of disappointment in herself. She had been trying so desperately to ignore her feelings for Harry and refocus them on Ron for the duration of the previous school year that she had abandoned many things she had believed in, S.P.E.W. being an integral member of that list. Hermione recalled her research into the identity of the half-blood prince, and how she had come up with an Eileen Prince as a former Hogwarts student. In her first five years at the school for Witchcraft and Wizardry, she would have done a bit of digging into Eileen Prince's genealogy, and discovered within a day, at the most, that she was mother to Severus Snape. However, due to her extreme change of heart in her sixth year, she hadn't discovered that fact until after Snape had murdered Dumbledore.
The overwhelming sense of disappointment quickly escalated into an extreme feeling of self-loathing. Hermione began to shake in an effort to control the emotions that she was experiencing.
"Miss Hermy?" asked Dobby cautiously. Harry was worried, and the house elf could sense it. When Hermione had not responded to his mental apology she had gone into some strange emotional state. "Miss Hermy, is yous alright?"
Hermione shook her head and reached out to brace herself against a nearby table. She was beginning to shake violently.
"Hermione?" asked Harry tentatively, following her to reach out and touch her shoulder.
At Harry's touch, Hermione dissolved into tears. The sounds of her sobs disturbed the routine of house elves bustling about the kitchen. They all stopped to stare. As they were bonded to Hogwarts (with the exception of Dobby, of course) and lived to serve the school and its inhabitants, Hermione was considered to be their Mistress in a roundabout way, as were all the students. Several house elves rushed towards her and began making efforts to calm her down. Some offered tea, and others offered bottles of Firewhisky to calm her nerves.
Harry didn't have the time to wonder exactly where the elves had gotten the Firewhisky from, because apparently being surrounded by about twenty house elves calling her `Mistress' and trying to help her was too much for Hermione. With a loud crack that temporarily deafened every being within hearing range, Hermione disappeared from her position at the table.
Several house elves looked surprised, while Dobby smiled knowingly at Harry.
"What the sodding hell…" Harry trailed off, seeing he smirk on the goggle-eyed house elf's face. "You know something, don't you?"
Dobby nodded and, with a snap of his fingers, conjured a chair for Harry to sit in. "Miss Hermy will be okay for a few minutes. Let Dobby get his Harry Potter some breakfasts, and Dobby will tell Harry Potter what is wrong with Miss Hermy."
A plate levitated itself in front of Harry, laden with bangers and mash. He dug in uneasily, appeasing his hunger despite his frazzled nerves in regards to his disappearing girlfriend.
Satisfied that Harry had taken a few bites to eat and would be appeasing his ravenous belly, Dobby began to speak. "Miss Hermy just Apparated."
Harry spit out a bit of the mash he'd just chewed on in surprise. "Apparated?"
Dobby nodded.
"In Hogwarts?"
Again, the little house elf confirmed what Harry was saying.
"That's impossible!" he spluttered.
Dobby shook his head. "House elves can Apparate inside Hogwarts. We does it every day!"
"But Hermione's not a house elf, she's a witch!" Harry reminded him.
That knowing smile spread across Dobby's face again. "Miss Hermy is the smartest witch at Hogwarts, and Miss Hermy can Apparate inside the castle!" he declared.
Harry swallowed a mouthful and fixed the elf with a confused look. "Hermione being a smart witch has nothing to do with being able to Apparate inside the school! She's not a house elf. There's Anti-Apparition wards in place, and she'll tell you herself that it's impossible to Apparate inside Hogwarts! It says so in Hogwarts: A History! Believe me, Dobby, I'd know. She reminds me often enough."
"She uses house elf magic!" Dobby grinned.
Biting back a groan, Harry processed this information. Knowing Hermione, she had no clue that she had just Apparated using house elf magic. He had a feeling she was not going to be pleased. "How did she Apparate with house elf magic?"
"Dobby and the other elves gives it to her, Harry Potter! We's give it to Master Harry as well, but he can do it without Dobby's help!"
Harry quirked an eyebrow. "You're telling me I can Apparate within the castle."
Dobby nodded with a large grin.
"And that you and the other elves gave Hermione house elf magic."
"Miss Hermy can Apparate anywhere she wants! Wards won't stop Miss Hermy from Apparating anymore. Miss Hermy had enough magic in her to Apparate but she didn't know how, so Dobby and the other elves give her the know-how!"
Though the concept of Hermione not knowing how to do something was laughable, Harry could understand what the small elf was trying to tell him. Hermione was magically capable of Apparating through Dumbledore's wards, but she didn't know how to trigger that ability. As far as she knew, it was impossible to do anyway. House elves commonly Apparated in places where wizards couldn't, so he suspected that Dobby had passed on some sort of house elf magical trait that allowed Hermione to trigger things she normally wouldn't have been able to. No matter how she had been able to do it, Harry knew that Hermione was still upset as she'd been before she Apparated out of the kitchen, and he had to find her. Harry wisely decided to figure out the mechanics of this house elf magic transfer after he'd consoled Hermione.
"Do you know where she went to, Dobby?" asked Harry desperately. As much as he appreciated the explanation, Dobby had kept him from finding her for long enough.
Dobby seemed to concentrate for a second or two, and then he focused his eyes on Harry. "Miss Hermy is in Master Harry's room in Gryffindor Tower."
Decided that was enough to find her, Harry sent his plate of half-eaten breakfast to one of the large sinks and got up to leave the kitchen.
"Master Harry Potter?" Dobby called for his attention.
Cringing inward at the title, Harry turned around. "Yes, Dobby?"
"Perhaps Harry Potter would prefer to Apparate to his Miss Hermy rather than walk? It is much faster, it is."
Though Harry was still unsure as to whether or not Dobby greatly exaggerated his magical abilities, he resigned himself to the idea of at least trying. After all, he'd never done so much as that before due to the belief that the Anti-Apparition wards were impenetrable.
Focusing himself and concentrating on his room in Gryffindor Tower, Harry found himself there only moments after he'd try to Apparate.
"Well, I'll be damned," he muttered under his breath, silently thanking the house elf for informing him of this ability he didn't realize he had. Looking around, he realized that he was in his old dorm room, not the Heads Suite. Dobby had said his bedroom in Gryffindor Tower, and that's what Harry had concentrated on. It hadn't occurred to him that the Heads Suite was off the common room, and therefore still situated in the main part of the castle and not in the tower at all.
Dobby, however, was right in his assessment of Hermione's location as Harry could feel her presence in the room, even though he couldn't see her. The curtains were drawn on his old bed, and he suspected she'd placed a Silencing charm around them.
He strode over to his formed bed and spread the curtains wide open. Hermione was curled up in a ball, her body shaking with silent sobs. Harry hated dealing with crying girls but this was his Hermione. She hardly ever cried, and seeing her so unbelievably distraught was tearing his heart in two.
Opening his mouth to try to comfort his girlfriend, Harry couldn't find the words. Hogwarts: A History was like Hermione's bible, and telling her that she would be able to Apparate within the castle walls would be like telling her that Jesus was married to Mary Magdalene, and they'd had kids. He had a feeling she'd have a bigger mental breakdown than she was already having at the news.
Deciding to go with the physical comfort approach, Harry slid into the bed and wrapped his arms around Hermione. She shook in his embrace, and Harry couldn't help but feel that she was falling apart somehow, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He thought that being able to Apparate within the castle would be a surprise to her, but that the ability wasn't so serious that her crying made any sense to him. There was a nagging feeling in Harry's brain that there was something more to Hermione's breakdown than he was aware of.
"'Mione?" he whispered, gently shaking her shoulder to try to snap her out of it.
Snuggling herself deeper into his arms, Hermione continued to sob. "Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry!" she wailed, burying her face in the hollow of his neck.
Harry blinked, completely bewildered. Sorry? What did Hermione have to be sorry about? He didn't understand. Sure, being able to Apparate inside the school would come as a shock to her, but it was hardly anything to apologize for, let alone cry about. He was about to ask her what she was apologizing for when Hermione sniffled and slipped her hand into his.
"Harry, please, you have to forgive me. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean for-"
"Hermione, for the love of Merlin, what are you apologizing for?" Harry asked, seemingly lost.
Wiping a few tears from her eyes, Hermione gave him a sad smile. "You really couldn't tell, could you?"
With his right eyebrow shooting high onto his forehead, Harry was sure he'd somehow missed something. He could tell just how upset she was by how long her last sentence had taken her. Her words had been interspersed with sniffles and tears, and he could have sworn she had accidentally stuttered a few times.
Why don't we talk like this, he offered, hoping it would help her to better articulate her words.
Hermione shook her head. "No, Harry. I've avoided the truth long enough. I'm not going to hide behind the façade of not actually having to say the words."
Harry went stiff; he was suddenly starting to feel very apprehensive about what Hermione had to say. The way she'd been apologizing, asking for forgiveness, he was suddenly terrified that her feelings for him had been a farce all along and that she was going to finally break up with him.
Seeing the panicked expression on his face, Hermione was quick to soothe his fears. "Oh, Harry, it's nothing like that!" she admonished, tears still flowing. "Didn't you wonder what was going on last year?"
What was going on last year? Of course he had! His sixth year had been plagued by feelings he didn't understand, watching his best friend snog an irritating girl every waking moment, and feeling hurt as his other best friend had become withdrawn and avoided his company. "You mean what was going on with you?"
"Precisely, Harry." Hermione acknowledged, quickly conjuring a tissue to blow her nose into. Her sniffles were slowly subsiding, and her tears were beginning to dwindle to a trickle. "Didn't my behaviour seem off to you? That I was prepared to nearly completely abandon your friendship because of that silly textbook?"
Silly textbook! Harry almost gave her an indignant glare at that. Not only had the information in that text been brilliant in helping with his Potions grades, but it had-belonged to Severus Snape, he realized with a start. Professor Severus Snape, the self-proclaimed Half-Blood Prince. Harry cringed inwardly at the reminder of the greasy haired git who had murdered Albus Dumbledore. It didn't help that Hermione had been right all along about the book, either.
"Last year nearly destroyed us," she whispered, averting her eyes from Harry's. "I don't mean as in physically destroyed any of us, per se, in case you weren't sure." Harry was glad she had cleared that up as he was just about to point out that Hermione had been nearly unscathed that year. "I mean us. The `you and I' kind of us. We were driven so far apart by that book, and then it became so much worse when Ginny-"
"What does Ginny have to do with it?" Harry questioned; he had thought they'd put that subject to bed when Hermione had called her out on her use of the love potion.
Hermione sighed, swiping her hand at a few errant tears that still lingered on her cheeks. "When she kissed you in the common room," she reminded him. "When I thought that you'd finally seen the girl I'd been shoving under your nose."
Harry was truly confused. "Hermione, I already know that you were trying to be a good friend by helping Ginny with me, but honestly, I don't see what you're getting at."
"Harry, have I ever told you how long I've been in love with you?" she asked suddenly.
"Uh…no." he admitted, wondering what she was getting at.
"Third year," she admitted softly. When she felt no negative reaction from Harry's body, and he remained silent, she continued. "I realized when I was using the time turner. Whenever I was going back to attend a class I didn't share with you, I found myself wishing that you could have shared the time turner with me, that you could have shared the experience with me. Harry, if I tell you something, will you promise me that you'll never tell another soul?"
Hermione twisted her upper body to look deeply into Harry's eyes. She was amazed at the confusion she could see lying in the iridescent green of his pupils; clearly he wasn't sure where she was going with this explanation.
"I promise," he said solemnly, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze.
Taking a deep breath, Hermione turned to face away from him again. "I-I used the time turner to go back and watch you."
Harry wasn't sure how to react to that. He wasn't sure exactly what Hermione meant by `watch', but he hoped it wasn't as bad as he thought.
"Oh honestly, Harry. Do you think I was spying on you in the shower or something?" she smiled, containing a soft laugh. "Not like that, silly. I only did it a few times, but every time I did I had resolved to finally do what I'd wanted to. And then, as soon as I was there, I couldn't. Whenever I was faced with taking action rather than planning to take action, my brain would hammer home the reminder that I couldn't go back in time to interfere with the future. Time travel is a tricky thing, Harry. As much as I wanted to go back and correct my mistakes, I realized that I couldn't as soon as I was there."
Rather than attempt to wrap his head around the concept of time travel Harry chose to focus instead on the fact that Hermione just admitted she had made mistakes. He knew that rubbing it in would be far too mean, but it gave him a secret sort of pleasure to know that no matter how perfect she appeared to be, Hermione was human just like the rest of the world.
"I went home that summer, convinced that I had ruined any chance I had ever had. My mother realized something was upsetting me and when we talked about it, she convinced me that it was better to try and know for sure, than to be too scared to do something about it and live my life in regret. So when we returned to Hogwarts for our fourth year, I had resolved to finally be honest with you, and in turn, with myself. I was going to tell you everything, and then Cho came along."
"Cho?" Harry repeated. He'd had an inkling that the pretty Ravenclaw might be a source of jealousy for Hermione now that they were together, but it was certainly different hearing it confirmed in her words.
"Harry, please. If you want me to explain, you'll need to not interrupt me. I still can't believe I'm telling you all of this but I promised myself I'd come clean about everything." Hermione heard no argument, and continued. "Yes, Cho. When I'd decided to tell you everything, you became infatuated with Cho. I knew how happy that made you, how happy she made you, and I didn't want to get in the way of that. What if you didn't like what I had to say? What if you saw me as your bushy-haired, bucktoothed, bookworm best friend and nothing more? I know you didn't notice, Harry, but I'd started to…develop that year. There was no doubt that I was most definitely a girl, and you didn't even notice. And don't try to give me the excuse that the school robes are loose and hide everything, because it won't work. I hardly ever wore them in the common room when we were doing our homework, and not once did you seem to notice that I'd grown legs and breasts."
Harry opened his mouth to argue, but Hermione had apparently sensed that he'd have something to say to that.
"Don't bother arguing, Harry. I know the way you looked at me. Or, didn't look at me."
"Dammit, Hermione, I'm not going to stay silent on this one. Have you completely forgotten how I looked at you the night of the Yule ball? How I always looked at you differently after the ball?" He argued, feeling angry that she hadn't remembered.
"I haven't forgotten," she said softly, "but that's just my point. After the Yule ball. If it weren't for that damned ball and Viktor Krum I doubt either you or Ron would have realized that I was ever a girl." Hermione chuckled softly. "Did you know Parvati wanted me to get pink dress robes?" she snorted. "I was tempted to hex her for just suggesting it."
Harry stayed silent. He hated to admit that she was right, but had she not shown up looking incredibly exquisite that night, it would probably have taken him much longer to realize that his best friend was growing into a young woman.
"When you were mooning over Cho and how she had gone to the ball with Cedric instead of you, it was so hard to keep quiet. You were acting like no one would like you for being anything but the Boy Who Lived, and the whole time I wanted nothing more than to assure you that there was someone out there who did. That that someone was me. But I couldn't, Harry, no matter how much I wanted to! I saw how you felt about Cho and if you hadn't given up on her, then neither had I. Do you remember when I tried to explain to you how Cho was feeling, and why she was crying when she kissed you?" Hermione sniffled. She knew how much holding back the truth had hurt her over the years, but she hadn't counted on it hurting this much coming out.
"When you told Ron he had the-what was it again?-emotional range of a teaspoon?" Harry chuckled. "'Cause that was brilliant."
Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Yes, Harry, when Ron was being his usual insensitive git self. Do you remember how I tried to explain to you all the things she was feeling at once? And how Ron said that a person would explode feeling all that?"
Harry didn't answer. He knew that Hermione was well aware of the fact that he remembered that conversation.
"He was right. Last year I had a much bigger explosion than Cho ever did. You just didn't notice."
"Cor, Hermione, I'm not that thick!" Harry protested. "If you'd gone completely spare I'd've noticed it."
"Oh really?" she threw back at him, fully turning now to face him. "Must've been a bit difficult trying to see past Ginny's head as she tried to lick your tonsils."
Harry turned red. "She used a potion, we know that now!"
Lowering her eyes, Hermione muttered, "That doesn't mean it hurt less seeing it."
Feeling properly shamed, Harry tried to pull his girlfriend into his arms and comfort her, but Hermione was having none of it.
"I was worried because I thought that if you had a relationship with Cho, you wouldn't need me anymore. She's just as smart, just as helpful, and Merlin knows she's loads prettier than I am. She was like a more attractive me, and what on earth would you need me for when you had her? I was absolutely terrified that you wouldn't want to be friends anymore. Then I felt guilty for feeling like that, because Cho made you happy, or at least the idea of Cho, and I was being a prat about it. I was being selfish and I didn't want to share you with her. Then when you add Ron… That was what made it even harder."
"Ron?" Harry asked evenly.
Hermione sighed. "Harry, even you had noticed that he fancied me, and I didn't know what to do about it. I was beginning to think you were hopeless, and it would have been so easy to convince myself to fall for Ron and spare myself the heartache, and look where that ended up going!"
"Well, Lavender wasn't exactly the best choice, nor was Ron entirely aware of-"
"Don't waste your time defending him, Harry. It's useless. It was a mess that I'd gotten myself into."
Harry gave her a confused look. "How do you figure?"
With her eyes firmly fixed on the mattress and her fingers playing with the sheet, Hermione spoke. "I'd fallen in love with you three years earlier, Harry. Three years is a lot of time to dwell on unrequited feelings. I took every feeling, every wish and desire I'd ever had for you, and I focused it all on Ron. I was determined to fall for him instead, even if it took taking a love potion spiked with his hair to do it. It was hurting too much to see you with Cho in fifth year and then Ginny in sixth. Each time I saw you with them I wished it was me you were smiling at or holding, me you were kissing."
"But Ron was with Lavender!" Harry protested.
"Yes, rub it in, Harry. Not only could I not make my best friend who I'd fallen in love with either see me in that way or recognize my feelings, but the one who did like me changed his mind to date a girl with barely three brain cells bouncing around in her head. A girl who he was perfectly content snogging everywhere and anywhere. I wasn't good enough for you, I wasn't good enough for Ron, and I wasn't good enough for anyone else, either." It took an awful lot of restraint for Hermione not to cry, but she did her best.
Harry noticed that she left Viktor Krum and Cormac McLaggen off the list, and decided to point it out.
"Viktor was nice, but he wasn't for me. And Cormac…" she trailed off wistfully. "Harry, if there was ever a time I would have given anything for you to see right through me, that would have been it."
He quirked an eyebrow at her. "So that I would have noticed that you Confunded him at Quidditch tryouts to help Ron get Keeper? So that I would have seen that Ron liked you and then seen you in that way?"
Hermione shook her head. "Close, Harry. Yes, you probably would have seen me in `that way', but that's not why I Confunded Cormac. Don't you see, Harry? It was for you!"
"For me? Hermione, I don't understand. What good did it do me? Confunding him got Ron on the team as Keeper, it did nothing for me."
This time Hermione did not resist the urge to roll her eyes. "Oh, Harry, for all that I feel for you, sometimes you really are as thick as Ron. Look, if I hadn't Confunded Cormac, you would have been forced to choose between Cormac and Ron, would you not?"
"Pretty much."
"And if you had chosen Cormac what would have happened?"
"Ron would've been right pissed that I didn't make him Keeper, and McLaggen would've probably snogged you senseless on the pitch."
"And if you had chosen Ron?"
"McLaggen would have accused me of picking my friends rather than the better players." Harry admitted, seeing where she was going with this.
"Exactly. My spell saved you from having to make that decision, Harry. You didn't have to deal with Ron being angry, or Cormac's accusations. You were able to tell Cormac that, as you saw it, Ron was the better flier and he deserved the position. And from what you saw, it would have been the truth."
Harry was speechless. He had often replayed that scene in his head, considering it somewhat of a defining moment in the Ron-Hermione relationship that was just waiting to begin. Every time he revisited the images he saw Hermione charming McLaggen to get Ron his Keeper position on the team. Now as he replayed them he saw her charm as an attempt to help him rather than Ron. A way to avoid his making a very difficult decision.
"Hermione, I really don't understand why you're apologizing though. We're together now, isn't that what matters?" he pleaded.
"Harry, I'm trying to make you understand what went on last year. And why Dumble-why it was my fault."
She gave him a look that he was afraid to break from.
"I wasn't myself last year. I ignored S.P.E.W., I was terrible at research; for Merlin's sake Harry, it took me until after-until the end of the year to find out that Eileen Prince was Snape's mum! I was so focused on falling for Ron and getting over you that I stopped being me. I stopped nearly everything and threw myself wholeheartedly into this disaster, and if it hadn't been for that, maybe-maybe he wouldn't have died! Maybe I could have stopped it!"
Hermione was most definitely crying again, and Harry swept her into his arms.
"You sound like me." He said softly. "When he died, all I could do was blame myself. I wasn't the one holding the wand that killed him, I wasn't the one who said the spell, but I blamed myself nonetheless. Hermione, regardless of your actions, there are two very important things you need to be reminded of. One, we are together now. I'm sorry that it's taken us so long, but it's happened and we can't go back and change it. Two, you did not kill Dumbledore. Neither did I. Severus Snape did, the bastard, and he'll get what's coming to him. You didn't use the killing curse on him. You didn't kill him."
The silence was deafening as they quietly held each other. Harry couldn't take it any longer, and dipped his head to capture Hermione's lips. The kiss was soft and gentle, letting her know that despite all that had happened in the past he still loved her and still wanted to be with her. Hermione was able to feel his emotions and returned the kiss wholeheartedly, with a bit more passion than Harry had expected.
It was only a manner of seconds before their hands begun to wander while their tongues were busy exploring. Harry deftly slipped a hand under Hermione's shirt to cup her breast while she was busy fumbling with his belt buckle. When their clothes were properly shed and piled on the floor Harry wasted no time in touching Hermione. His hand moved from her breast to slide down her waist, his fingers tracing her inner thighs. A low whimper escaped her lips and Harry took this as a sign that he should do more than just touch. He pressed a finger into her and felt himself grow even harder upon discovering how wet she was. Instinctively, Hermione reached for him and her fingers closed around his hard length.
The couple had spent quite some time tormenting one another with their hands and fingers when Hermione began to moan louder and loosen her grip on Harry. He sensed that she was close and he began to move his finger faster, using his other hand to play with her clitoris. The combination of his two actions drove her right over the edge and she came quickly, calling out his name. She went limp moments later and it took quite a few minutes for her breathing to return to normal.
They laid there in each other's arms for what seemed like an eternity before Hermione spoke. "Harry?" she asked in a quiet tone.
"Mmm?" he responded, snuggling her tighter.
"How did I get here?"
He laughed softly. "You Apparated."
With those two words Hermione nearly forgot about her earlier confusion and began to screech about the impossibilities of doing such a thing within the castle walls and how the house elves were the only ones capable. Harry chose to avoid trying to explain and called for Dobby, leaving him to deal with the ranting witch. He couldn't quite wrap his mind around house-elf apparition and opted to leave the logistics to Hermione and the goggle-eyed house elf.
He watched in amusement as Hermione's eyes widened in surprise as Dobby explained her new abilities to her. The two of them had begun to head down the stairs towards the Gryffindor common room, so Harry chose to follow them a few steps behind. They were talking animatedly and Harry was pleased to see Hermione enjoying herself again.
As they reached the bottom of the steps and made their way over to the couch, the portrait hole swung open and admitted a very harried-looking McGonagall.
"Professor! What brings you here?" Hermione asked, interrupting Dobby's ongoing explanation of house elf magic and Apparition.
McGonagall paused a moment to re-adjust her glasses and catch her breath. "It's Miss Weasley. She's awake."
With that Dobby and the young Gryffindors followed McGonagall out of the portrait hole and they sprinted through the halls towards the hospital wing.
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