The week had been hectic. Harry and Hermione gathered Unspeakable information from Unspeakable suspects in many Unspeakable places. They wrote down Unspeakable notes on magical notepads and transferred them to one another in Unspeakable ways. Their dinners were soon fast and usually at their respective desks in their rooms. Once it was too late, Harry would move from his moonlit room to Hermione's. Together, they would lose track of time by her reading lamp as their search for Antonin Dolohov became more frantic.
~*~
"Lumos," he said gloomily. He walked past Harry and Hermione in silence. They followed. Harry tried not to lose faith. They were still three. They were walking through the Forbidden Forest. It was okay. This was Hogwarts Grounds. Harry gritted his teeth. He wasn't going to lose a war on Hogwarts Grounds. "One," he said softly. There was no need to shout. "Two," he heard Hermione shudder. She was scared; he could hear it in her voice. "Three," Ron gulped. He was nervous. Thinking about Ginny. Harry wondered why he wasn't scared for Ginny. He had thrown himself into work lately. He had become obsessed with Voldemort. Obsessed with the horcruxes. Obsessed with getting his revenge. He knew he was losing sight of what he was doing. What he was fighting for. But he couldn't help it; this was his purpose, wasn't it? Perhaps he was a baby born from love, but he was always destined to be something much greater. "Dementor," Hermione whispered as a familiar chill surrounded them. Harry and Ron looked ahead. Dementors suddenly appeared from every tree visible. It was an ambush. "Get behind me," Harry said quickly. They obeyed without a word. "EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Harry yelled as a stag emerged from his wand. The Dementors ran towards his shield and were quickly propelled. "Now," Harry said. Hermione and Ron got up from behind him. "Expecto Patronum!" they screamed in unison. An otter and Jack Russell terrier emerged from their wands. Slowly, the three walked forward and made their way into the forest. Soon, the Dementors began to retreat and they lowered their wands. Suddenly, a Death Eater emerged from behind a Dementor. He raised his wand to Harry. Harry, nearly exhausted from his strong charm was not fast enough. Ron jumped in front of him, ignoring Hermione's cry. "CRUCIO!" the Death Eater yelled. The curse was exceptionally strong and obviously meant for Harry; Harry and Hermione knew it from the way Ron was roaring in pain. Hermione killed the Death Eater quickly and ran to Ron's side. "Go...go on without me," Ron mumbled, holding onto his arm, his tears falling to the ground. Harry tugged Hermione up, his tears no match for hers. There was a ripping sound. The barrier had been breached. Sunlight suddenly invaded the Forest. "They'll take care of me," Ron referred to the yelling Aurors in the background, "Go." Harry and Hermione turned and ran as fast as they could. "One," Harry panted, his hand out. Hermione took it in hers. "Two."
~*~
"Our deal was to go out for dinner, Hermione."
"You know I would like to but we can't." Harry lowered his head and groaned. Hermione came into the living room. "We can go out some other day."
"Why not tonight?" Harry sat down on the couch and motioned her to sit next to him. She sat down.
"It's been a long week, Harry. Positively exhausting."
"We deserve a break," he tried. She shook her head.
"We deserve a good night's sleep." She glanced at him when there was no reply. His head was bowed, his bangs in his hair. "Harry?"
"I can't sleep, Hermione. Ever since we got this case, I've been dreaming about the Forest. About the Second War." He closed his eyes, trying to shut out the cries of the war. Hermione laid her hand on his shoulder.
"I have, too," she admitted. They looked at one another. She clucked her tongue. "Tell you what; we'll go out for dessert."
~*~
At least two dozen Aurors were lost in the deeper part of the Forest with Harry and Hermione. Werewolves had emerged and were vicious in their killing. Harry and Hermione held up as much as they could, watching in horror as Aurors threw themselves upon killing curses and attacks for them. "One," Harry would keep repeating as they saluted each fallen Auror. "Two," Hermione would always reply. Soon, the forty-three Aurors that came in a bunch through the barrier had scattered around them, dead. Harry and Hermione panted as they watched the last one die. "Immobulus!" Hermione shouted at the last werewolf. Harry walked slowly towards him, Hermione close behind. "Hello, Fenrir," he said politely. Greyback was silent. "Imperio," Harry whispered as Greyback suddenly jolted, growled loudly and then was suddenly emotionless. Harry got very close to him. "Tell your master that I didn't kill you because I'll do it later, over his dead body." With a flick of his Harry's wrist, Greyback ran into the Forest. "Come on," Harry panted and wordlessly, Harry and Hermione followed Greyback into the center of the Forbidden Forest.
~*~
Hermione smiled warmly at the thought Harry had just brought up.
"I remember even I was amazed you had so much pity for Greyback," she ran her finger along her glass of champagne. Harry smirked, drank his last drop and signaled to the bartender to give him another. Hermione drank the rest of hers and asked for another as well. Once they were filled, they clinked their glasses together and sipped.
"It wasn't pity," Harry sighed as he rested his glass on the table, "I just wanted to keep him alive for Bill and Professor Lupin to get their piece of him." Hermione smiled slightly, shook her head and looked at the floor. Harry chuckled. "What?" Hermione looked up, sparkle in her eyes.
"You've been through so much," she said, "And yet you have so much heart. You've seen such horrible things and yet you give up your dreams and continue to fight for what's right. You're…you're a good man, Harry." She lifted her glass, motioned to him and drank. Harry smiled slightly and sipped at his.
"You've been there all along, Hermione." He lifted his glass, motioned to her, downed it and motioned to the bartender once again. Hermione followed.
"This is your fifth," the bartender said as he was pouring the champagne. They nodded.
"I think we might be getting a bit sloshed," Hermione giggled as she sipped at her glass again.
"Possibly," Harry sniggered in response. Hermione suddenly went serious again, her finger running around the rim of the glass.
"Why do you think that is?" she said quietly. He finished his drink and set his glass down.
"Because we want to forget everything we saw after we lost Ron," he said surprisingly seriously.
~*~
"One," Harry whispered. "Two," he heard a clear response. Suddenly, Harry stopped Hermione's steps behind him with a motion of his finger. He moved forward slowly and glanced over the hill they were standing on. Greyback was beside Voldemort's side and Harry tried to ignore his burning scar. Greyback stood on his hind legs and whispered something in Voldemort's ear. He knelt back down on his legs and awaited his response. His response from the Dark Lord was a green flash. Harry heard Hermione whimper. He turned to her. "Mione?" he asked. He nearly gasped. She was no further than an inch from him, her stomach bleeding uncontrollably. "Harry," she babbled, "I love you." Her eyes closed suddenly and her head tilted to the side. "Hermione!" Harry yelled hysterically. "Don't worry," came a voice. Harry raised his head, his hand gripping his wand so hard, it hurt. Dolohov smiled. "She's not dead," sadness could be heard in his voice; "The Dark Lord wants to kill it himself." Harry got to his feet and raised his wand to Dolohov. "Crucio!" Harry yelled as Dolohov knelt down in pain. Harry turned his back to him. He wasn't going to kill him. He was going to let him die slowly. "I love you too," Harry whispered to Hermione before running to the front of the hill. "YOU WON'T TOUCH HER, TOM RIDDLE!" he yelled as loud as he could. Voldemort turned around, Wormtail immediately cowered at his side. Voldemort smiled sinisterly. "DO YOU HEAR ME?" Harry bellowed even louder and raised his wand to him, "YOU WON'T TOUCH HER!"
~*~
Hermione slammed her glass down on the table. Harry raised his eyes to her gaze. They looked at one another as if in a trance. "Why did you tell me you loved me? Right before you passed out?" Harry asked. Hermione lowered her gaze to the floor.
"I thought I was going to die. I wanted you to know I loved you," she raised her gaze back to his. "But as a friend," she said too quickly. Harry raised an eyebrow.
"You know, when I said I loved you…I don't think I meant as a friend," he said, gazing at his empty glass. Hermione sighed and shook her head.
"That's the liquor talking again, Harry." She rested her head on her hand. "This was a mistake. We never should have gone out to get smashed on a lonely night." Harry brought her hand into his and forced her to look at him.
"Every night is lonely," Harry said slowly, "Every night, my bed is empty."
"So is mine, Harry, but they'll be back tomorrow morning and we can all go out for brunch." Harry shook his head and took her hand in his.
"Hermione, it won't make a difference. Everything's changed." Hermione shook her head.
"Nothing's changed, Harry, you're lonely, you're facing your past and you've got about six glasses of champagne in you." Harry cupped her head in his hand. He raised his unsteady eyes to her.
"Hermione," he slurred, "This is different." She didn't move away. Instead, she held his head in her hand.
"It's different because you're drunk, Harry."
"IT'S ALWAYS BEEN LIKE THIS WITH US!" The bar grew silent and all eyes were on them. She found herself unable to look away from his piercing green eyes. "It's always been like this, I just haven't noticed it," he whispered, "They way we understand one another. The way we can have comfortable silences. I never saw it until lately, when we've been alone every night."
"You want Ginny," Hermione murmured. Harry shook his head again.
"I never wanted Ginny. I…I've never really wanted anything. I've never wanted anything so much I'd die if I didn't have it. I've never really…wanted anything…until you came along," he whispered. He leaned his head into hers. She pulled away. As much as she was intrigued and wanted to kiss him back, she was…she was positive it was the liquor in her body taking over her conscience.
"Harry, you're lonely. You're lonely, you're traumatized and most importantly, you're drunk."
"If I wasn't drunk, wouldn't you kiss me back?" Harry asked, hiccupping. For once, Hermione paused and considered his question. Harry smiled slightly. "It happened that night when Skeeter wrote her article. Things were different. I know you felt it, too." Hermione had had quite enough. She tore her head and hands away from him.
"You're drunk, Harry! You don't know what you're saying!" she said loudly, uncaring of the staring faces. Harry leapt up from his chair.
"I know exactly what I'm saying! I know you feel it! You can't deny what's happening!" he said as loud as she. Hermione raised her finger and poked at him, but no words escaped her mouth. She growled and tried again in vain. Why was he being so stubborn!? She grimaced and pouted as much as she could. But it couldn't resolve the anger she was withholding.
"FINE!" she lashed out loudly, flinging her arms up. "YOU WANT A KISS, HARRY?! I'LL GIVE YOU A KISS!!" And without another word, she grabbed his head and kissed him. Hard. She kissed him so hard and so passionately, his body slumped against the table and his left hand shook uncontrollably as it rose against the counter to steady them. She had climbed on top of him and rested firmly on his lap. The hooting from the bar spectators grew louder and louder as the kiss deepened. She didn't mean for it to last so long. In fact, she didn't mean to kiss him with passion. She meant to peck him on the lips and disapparate bashfully when he pushed her away. But he didn't push her away. He grabbed her by the hip and head and pulled her closer to him. She was surprised to say the least of what he was doing. And what she was doing in response. His hands were holding her tightly, moving from her back to her hair. Her hands were gripping his shirt tighter and tighter, buttons ripping out.
"Hermione," he moaned. Her eyes opened slightly. What on earth were they doing? As if a meteor had just crashed onto Earth, she propelled herself away from him. She caught herself in the middle of the bar. Harry was completely relying on the table to keep him up. His shirt was open with not one button to be seen. His hair was in disarray and his chest was heaving as hers was. The hoots and cheers stopped suddenly as all eyes were on Hermione. She panted and panted, trying to get her grip back on reality. Her mind was wandering. Why did kissing Harry feel so good? She felt dizzy all of a sudden. Because it was right. No! Wait, that's wrong. Kissing Harry was wrong. She was with Ron. And Harry was with her. No, wait, that's wrong. He was with Ginny. Not Hermione. Ginny. Ginny and Ron. Harry and Hermione. No, wait, that's wrong, too! Oh, but it sounded so perfect. Harry and Hermione. Harry and Hermione.
"Hermione?" Harry rasped, interrupting her internal dialogue. Hermione raised her head and looked at Harry, tears in her eyes. "I know you felt that." Hermione sobbed suddenly and wiped at her eye. Then, with another sad look at Harry, she disapparated into her bedroom and passed out on her bed.
Dedication: This chapter is dedicated to *someone special* out there. I've never wanted anything so much I'd implode if I didn't have it. Then you came along.