Bewitched

A beautiful December day at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was being wasted by Hermione Granger.

“Only six months until our final exams, Harry! We have to be ready,” she exclaimed. She blew her bushy, brown hair out of her face as she turned pages in a massive book.

“Exactly, six months,” her friend said. “We should be outside playing in the snow. C'mon Hermione, we've been in the library for two hours now. Let's go.”

Hermione looked at him and frowned. “But when will there be a better time to study than now?”

“Later.” He grinned. “You can't be perfect all the time.” He pushed himself away from the table, stood up, and pulled her out of her chair. “You are going to have fun with me today and you are not going to make up any stupid excuses to get out of it.” He led her out of the library by her hand.

“Harry! You stop this right now,” she squealed in between laughs.

“No, this is your punishment for worrying too much sometimes.” They approached the Fat Lady and Harry said the password, “Yule Log.” After climbing into the portrait hole, Harry let go of her hand.

“I'll meet you in ten minutes right here, okay? And you better not claim you're sick or so help me, I'll fly on my Firebolt up the stairs to your dormitories and get you myself,” he playfully threatened. He let go of her hand and dashed up the stairs to his dormitories.

Hermione chuckled and walked at a much slower pace to her room while unconsciously rubbing her right hand. They had been working hard over the past few months adjusting to a Voldemort-free world and Harry needed all of the fun that he could get.

In five minutes, Hermione stood in the common room dressed in her winter attire. Harry jumped down the steps two at a time and grinned as he landed with a large thud on the bottom step. He then calmly stepped down and walked over to Hermione.

“Shall we go, my lady?” he asked gallantly as he held his arm.

“Why, yes, servant,” she answered laughing, and together they walked outdoors.

* * *

Thirty minutes later, Hermione felt sorry for not coming out sooner in the first place. Harry was having a blast and now they sat crouched behind a large bush watching Ron as he approached them with Luna by his side.

“How close does he have to be for us to be able to hit him?” Harry whispered.

“A couple of meters.”

Harry scooped up a handful of snow and smiled wickedly. “Excellent.”

“We shouldn't hit him! He's on his date with Luna and it looks like it's going well. Don't do it.”

“Please. Just this once,” he whined. He stuck out his bottom lip and made a pathetic face.

Hermione giggled. “Fine, but only because that is the worst puppy-dog face I've ever seen.”

He eagerly awaited his target and Hermione could now hear snatches of Ron and Luna's conversation.

“….Really need to get together. I've never seen such a thick-headed pair.”

“It took you a long time as well, Ronald. Give it time.”

“They're driving me insane!”

Harry concentrated as they came closer.

Luna stopped and looked around her. “I think we should stop here.”

“Why? We were on our way to the Great Hall weren't we?” Ron walked forward a few steps and gazed at her with confusion.

Harry jumped out of the bush and threw his snowball as hard as he could. A loud smack reverberated in the air.

Ron slowly wiped the wet mess off of the back of his head, while Hermione stood up and barely controlled her laughter. Harry only grinned and backed away from his spot.

“You evil git!” Ron shouted and took off after Harry, who began to run.

Hermione could no longer help herself and laughed the hardest she had in a while. She glanced over at Luna who only shrugged and said, “I told him to stop.”

When Luna and Hermione found them, they were wrestling in the snow, caps and gloves off and hooting with laughter.

“You didn't have to hit me!”

“You were a walking target! I couldn't pass up the opportunity!”

Hermione smiled. They were together in peace.

“Oh look, it's Scarboy and his motley crew,” someone behind them drawled.

Harry and Ron stopped their scuffling and everyone turned to face Draco Malfoy, flanked by his lackeys, Crabbe and Goyle.

“Shut it, Malfoy,” Harry said menacingly as he picked himself off the ground.

“What are you going to do about it? Snowball me to death?”

Crabbe and Goyle chuckled stupidly and Hermione's eyes narrowed.

“I wouldn't say anything, especially since Daddy won't be here to protect you,” Ron spat.

His normally pale face turned purple. “Leave my Father out of this, blood traitor!”

“Hit a nerve, did I? Mad that your dad's in Azkaban for the rest of his life?”

Draco looked murderous, but quickly regained his composure. “At least you picked to be with a Pureblood, Weasel. It's still not a very good choice, her being loony and all, but still you could have done worse.”

Ron rushed for Malfoy while Luna held him back with her arm and calmed him down. “It doesn't hurt my feelings, honest, Ronald. Please, don't.”

Harry growled. “Cut it out, Malfoy. Just because your girlfriend's ugly doesn't mean you have to pick on Luna.”

Malfoy drew his wand. “You want to talk about Pansy? At least I have a girlfriend, Potter. Why don't you go back to your Weaselette?”

Harry drew his wand as well. “Back off and leave her alone.”

Malfoy chuckled and looked at Hermione. “Why don't you date your little Mudblood friend? She is rather—

At this, Malfoy was thrown backward by a jinx. He sat up from the snow with his face covered in boils and roared, “You'll pay, Scarboy!” He then threw spell after spell at Harry and he was able to barely block them. Ron tried to join Harry in the duel while Luna and Hermione held him back. She only watched Harry and asked whatever greater power there was to protect him.

“You should brush up on that, Malfoy; Daddy wouldn't want an embarrassment for a son,” Harry taunted.

Malfoy smirked and snarled, “Amortium!” A thin stream of gold came from the end of his wand and hit Harry on the hand.

Harry eyes then went blank and he fell to his knees. He slowly sank into the snow, face-down.

“Harry!” Hermione shouted and ran to him, leaving Luna to control an enraged Ron.

“What did you do to him?” Ron asked repeatedly as Hermione looked over Harry.

Please be okay, please, she begged. Checking his vital signs, she found that he had a slow but steady pulse and let out a relieved sigh.

“He's alright!”

Malfoy only sneered and quickly walked away as Ron and Luna rushed to Hermione's side. They would see.

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“Visiting hours are over, Ms. Granger,” Madame Pomfrey said gently.

“But someone needs to be here with him. Can't I just stay for tonight?”

Hermione could see the conflicting emotions play out on her face. “Fine,” she answered, “but you must promise me that if any changes in his condition occur at all, you will notify me immediately.”

She nodded fervently.

A small smile spread across Madame Pomfrey's features. She turned to go to her quarters for the night, but turned around and asked, “What spell was placed on Mr. Potter exactly? You three were in such a state, I couldn't understand anything you were saying.”

“Malfoy cast something called Amortium. It was a spell I've read about before, but it's been such a long time I've forgotten what it is. Do you have any idea?”

She raised her eyebrows. “I've never seen such a response to this type of spell before,” she murmured.

“But what is it?” Hermione asked with a hint of impatience.

“A Love Spell. It makes the person that is hit fall in love with the person that they love most. This is the most severe case I've ever seen; no one has been knocked unconscious by one of these in my experience before. Mr. Malfoy must have been quite angry when he cast this.”

Hermione glimpsed at Harry. Was he going to be alright?

“In any case, if all goes well, Mr. Potter will wake up in the morning, right as rain. Whoever is the recipient of his love should take caution; however, these things can become very messy, especially when dealing with teenagers. When he does wake up, keep him in this room. I need to see who the unfortunate person on the other end is and notify them.”

Hermione replied, “Yes, Madame Pomfrey,” and the older woman smiled and walked out of the main hospital wing to her room. Hermione turned to Harry.

“How many times am I going to end up waiting for you in this hospital wing before we leave school,” she sighed as she made herself comfortable in the chair. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

The sunlight poured into the windows and Hermione groaned. She stretched her stiff legs and arms and sat up straighter in her chair. Turning to Harry, she let out a muffled shriek.

Harry sat up in bed, staring at her intently. He had a dreamy look in his eyes and a spacey grin on his face.

“Good morning, Hermione,” he said.

“G-Good morning. I'm so glad to see you awake; me, Ron, and Luna were so worried about you. Would you like some breakfast?”

Harry only continued to stare.

“Did you hear me?”

He shook his head. “Yeah. Yeah, breakfast would be nice.”

She smiled brightly and answered, “Great.” She got up and began to walk away from the bed.

“Wait! Where are you going?”

She turned around in confusion. “To go get breakfast, Harry. No one else is going to go.”

“But you can't leave! Stay here!”

That spell must have disoriented him, she thought. “Don't worry; I'll be back before you know it.”

He relaxed and leaned back against the pillows. “Okay, just don't take long.”

Hermione walked out utterly confused. Whoever he was in “love” with was really messing with his mind. She returned in fifteen minutes levitating a plate of toast and pumpkin juice to walk into a room holding a very concerned Harry.

“You're back! I'm so glad!”

She walked slowly to the bed and set the plate down. “I wasn't gone for long.”

“It felt long to me. Great, you brought toast, I'm starving,” he finished and launched himself upon the toast.

Hermione ate her toast and looked at Harry with her eyebrows knitted together. Who was causing his behavior to be so erratic?

He glanced at her and, to her surprise, began to blush.

“What is it?”

“You know, you're beautiful when you eat,” he stated.

Her jaw dropped. “What?” she said in a strained tone.

“You're a beautiful girl, Hermione. Gorgeous, even.”

Hermione was spared the chance to respond with the entrance of Madame Pomfrey.

“Wonderful, you're awake, Mr. Potter. How are you feeling,” she asked in a business-like manner. She quickly set to her task of checking over him.

“Spectacular, just like Hermione's eyes.”

Madame Pomfrey stopped her work instantly. “Ms. Granger, you say?”

He nodded, his eyes never leaving Hermione's shocked face.

“Well, this is slightly unexpected. Mr. Potter, you seem to be fine. Would you mind stepping into the lavatory to change into your clothes while I talk to Ms. Granger?”

“Not at all, Madame Pomfrey.” He gathered his robes, walked into the lavatory, and closed the door behind him.

She turned to look at Hermione. “I do think that I've found our person.”

“It can't be me! There's no possible way; he's never seen me in that way!”

“On the contrary, it seems that he has. Love Spells are powerful in their own right; it reveals a person's innermost feelings for that one person. Mr. Potter is in love with you.”

She only shook her head. “Malfoy must have messed with his head when he hit him with that spell. Isn't there some way to make him stop?”

“You could be correct in thinking that Mr. Malfoy may have knocked some proverbial screws loose in his head. This could be the after effect of seeing you by his bedside first,” she mused. “Come back to me with Harry in a week and I'll see how he feels. In the meantime, prepare to be bothered immensely.”

“But—

“I'm back, Hermione!” He put his arms around her waist and grinned at her. “It's almost time for class, isn't it?”

“Why—yes, but you should stay here,” she said with a struggle through her embarrassment.

“But I shouldn't miss class, that's what you always say. Let's go!” He grabbed her hand and almost skipped to the door. “Bye, Madame Pomfrey,” he called out over his shoulder.

The door shut behind them and she only shook her head. Ms. Granger would learn of love the hard way.

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Twelve minutes later, they burst into Charms, still holding hands. The atmosphere in the room buzzed with excitement at this new development and to Hermione's horror, Pavarti and Lavender brought their heads together and began to giggle madly.

Harry noticed none of the extra attention. He merely chirped hello to Professor Flitwick and led her to their empty chairs next to Ron that were located in the back of the room.

I s the walk to my seat always this long, Hermione thought with dread. It seemed as if the short aisle had turned into a road. A long road filled with suppressed laughter and whispering.

Finally, after hours of torture, they reached their seats and Harry let go of her hand to sit down. She took no time in sitting down and hiding her beet-red face behind her Charms book.

Professor Flitwick, looking slightly irritated, resumed his lesson and the class settled down. She could see that notes were being passed between every girl in the class and all of the boys gaped in Harry's direction.

She looked over to Harry and noticed that, surprisingly, he was taking diligent notes on the charm for today, a nonverbal step-up from a Cheering Charm. He met her gaze and grinned and returned to his notes.

Maybe this spell won't be so bad after all, she mused. At that moment, a piece of parchment landed on her desk from Ron's direction. She turned to him, but he acted horribly inconspicuous to the fact that he had just passed a note. Unrolling it, she found that it read, “Talk to me later. ALONE!”

What a long day this was going to be.

* * *

At the end of the day, Hermione sprinted ahead of Harry. She had to get away from him.

“Hermione, wait! Hold on!”

I can make it! All I need is a bit more space--

Hermione then felt his gentle grip on her arm and he whirled her around.

I almost made it, she thought ruefully.

“Where are you going? I thought we were going to study in the library,” he whined.

“We are. We'll just do it later. I have something really important to do right now. Okay?”

Please buy it, please buy it, she thought desperately.

He furrowed his brow and let her arm go. “Alright. Don't take too long, okay?”

“I won't.”

He grinned and kissed her on the cheek. He then walked away with his hands in his pockets, humming.

She let out a breath of relief and continued to walk to her destination, the unused third floor girl's lavatory. It had felt wrong lying to Harry, even if he was under a spell. She buried her guilt as she opened the door to find Ron leaning against one of the stalls.

“So, you two are together, now?” he said in a low voice. He leaned forward with his head down.

“Listen, Ron, it's—

He looked at her and grinned. “It's brilliant and about time too! I knew you two would get together! Now I can relax.”

“But it's not—

“Wait, how long have you two been dating? You haven't done anything have you? Because if you have then—

“Ron, will you shut your bloody mouth up and listen to me!”

Ron's eyes grew wide and she clapped her hand over her mouth.

“I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to, it was a slip of the tongue!”

Instead of being angry, Ron roared with laughter. “I can't believe you swore,” he said while he caught his breath several minutes later. “Me and Harry are such a bad influence on you.”

“Very funny. But in all seriousness, I have to tell you something. Harry and I aren't together.”

“What? But you came in holding hands and Harry was looking like he got accepted into Puddlemore United as their starting Seeker. There can't be any other explanation, right?”

“He's under a Love Spell. He doesn't know what he's doing; he thinks he's in love with me! All the way down the hall to Transfiguration, he kept counting in tens how much he loved me!”

“But I thought girls liked that sort of thing. You know, being told that they're pretty and how life is meaningless if they aren't around and stuff.”

“Where did you hear that last one from?” she asked incredulously.

He blushed and muttered, “I read it in a book once.” He cleared his throat and said, “Anyway, what are you going to do?”

“I don't know. I was going to go research the spell in the library later on tonight and take him to see Madame Pomfrey next week.”

“So, you don't want to be with Harry?”

“No, I don't. Why?”

His face fell. “No reason, I was just asking.”

She turned and peeked out of the door. “Good, he isn't out there. Ron, I'll see you later.” She then stealthily walked into the hall and out of sight. She left Ron alone in the lavatory.

“She doesn't love Harry, does she? Not on my watch,” he said resolutely. “But I need help. And I know exactly who to ask.”

* * *

Hermione looked through So, You Want To Be In Love? , knowing that there had to be an answer in the book. There was no possible way it wasn't.

Harry simply stared at Hermione from across the table. “You're really pretty when you study, Hermione. You look so focused in what you're doing.”

She let out a beleaguered sigh. That was the eighteenth compliment he had given her in thirty minutes, spanning from their walk to the library and the twenty minutes in the library itself. “Thank you, Harry.”

“You're always welcome. You know, I think your name is cute when it's short. Kind of like Mia, or Herm, or Mione.” He straightened up. “Yeah, that's it, `Mione! I'm going to call you that from now on!”

“No, please, don't!” she shouted.

Madam Pince shushed her and gave her a withering look.

“Sorry,” she whispered. “But really, Harry, don't call me that.”

“I like it, though. I'll only call you `Mione when I really need you.” He pouted. “Please?”

“No.”

“Pretty please?”

“But—

“Please?”

“Fine. You have to promise to only use it in those situations.”

“Done. I love it when you're diplomatic.”

“Okay, I think that's enough for the night.” She got up from the table, checked out the book, and walked to the door to find Harry waiting for her.

“Hermione, why aren't you talking to me?” he asked as they walked towards the common room. “Is it something I did? If I did do something, I'm sorry.”

She looked at him curiously. “I'm not mad at you.”

“Are you sure? It's feels that way. I'm really, really sorry. “

She stopped in the hallway. “Don't be. You haven't done anything. I've been a little tired because of yesterday and I didn't get a lot of sleep.”

“I'm glad.” He frowned. “When you're mad at me, I don't like it. I feel alone, even if I've got Ron to talk to. I feel kinda empty. Let's go, we've been out here too long.” He took her hand and resumed walking.

She was speechless. She had never heard him talk about things like this before. Was this how he truly felt about her or was this the spell talking?

Upon entering the common room, most of the girls in the room glowered in their direction. Hermione looked to Ginny for help, but she only shrugged and went back to her conversation with another girl in her year. Ron waved them over to the couch.

“How'd the research go?” he asked.

“We found a book, but we haven't gone through it yet.” she answered.

“I still don't know what she's looking for, but I'll help because she needs me.”

Ron looked into the fire and Hermione blushed. Where was this coming from?

“So, anyway, I'll see you two tomorrow,” she sputtered as she stood up.

“Night, Hermione,” Ron replied.

Harry looked horrified. “You're leaving? You can't, stay down here longer!”

“We'll see each other in the morning. It's not as long as it seems.”

“Don't worry mate, I'll keep you company,” Ron said jovially.

He grinned. “Keeping me company means beating me horribly at wizard's chess.”

“You know it.”

He laughed, stood up, and kissed Hermione on the cheek. “Good night, `Mione.”

“Good night to the both of you,” she murmured and walked towards the steps to the dormitories. When she was alone on the steps, she touched her cheek.

He had just kissed her on the cheek in front of everyone. Where was the boy who kept his feelings to himself?

Did she like this Harry?

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The next morning, Hermione walked down her dormitory steps to find no one waiting for her.

Maybe he finally realized who he was really “in love” with, she thought as she walked to the Great Hall for breakfast. That would most certainly make things easier. He had almost driven her up the wall yesterday.

When she reached the Great Hall, she was amazed at the large number of people there. There were still three weeks before most of the students left for Christmas; there was no reason why every student from Hogwarts would be at breakfast. She had little time to ponder this event since she was nearly tackled by a large, messy-haired blur.

“Hermione, you came down! I was wondering what was taking you so long! I wanted to go up there and get you myself, but Ron and Ginny told me that it wouldn't be a good idea, but you came anyway!” he shouted.

Her face turned red from the lack of air and embarrassment. “`Arry—have to let go—can't breathe!” she choked.

“Oh, I'm sorry!” He let her go instantly. “Are you alright? Did I hurt you?”

“No,” she said after catching her breath, “but I would like to sit down.” And stop people from staring at us, she thought sullenly.

He grasped her hand and she had a bout of déjà vu, complete with suppressed laughter and stares. There were even a few wolf whistles from the busy tables. It hit her suddenly that the student body wasn't there for breakfast. They were there to watch her and Harry.

Sitting down was a relief and Harry finally let go of her hand to attack the scrambled eggs and sausage. Ron looked over his tall plate of food and gave her a cheery wink and resumed devouring his breakfast. Hermione simply wanted to disappear. He didn't love her, when would this torture end?

Ginny reached across the table to pat her hand consolingly. “It's alright, Hermione. People did that to me and Harry all of the time. You get used to it.”

“But I don't want to get used to it! He supposed to be staring at some other girl, not me! Even if—

“Hey, Hermione.”

She turned around and stifled a groan. Cormac McLaggen had come to make her morning worse.

“Hi,” she said in forced cheerfulness.

Both Ron and Harry stopped eating to watch the exchange.

“I've been having a bit of problem in Arithimacy for the past two weeks. Not that I don't know what's going on,” he said loudly. “I just feel that I could do better than I already am. Would you mind giving a bit of a help?”

Harry's eyes turned into slits, but Hermione didn't notice.

“Of course I'll help,” she answered sincerely. “When would you like to start?”

“Tonight, if possible. In the library at six.”

She was taken a little taken aback by his quick answer, but nodded yes. With that, McLaggen grinned and walked off.

Hermione breathed a sight of relief and began to eat.

“You're not doing it, are you,” asked Harry.

“I have no reason not to. He wants to do well in his classes and asked me for help. I can't let him down.”

Harry growled, “I don't like him. He's too pompous and egotistical—and other stuff that I don't like. You can't go.”

“I am. He has specifically asked for my help. This conversation is over.”

Hermione returned to her breakfast and Harry stabbed his eggs with extra ferocity.

Throughout it all, Ron chewed on his improvised sausage sandwich. This was an interesting turn of events.

* * *

Hermione laughed as McLaggen told her joke concerning two hags and a pot of witches brew. He had been pleasant for the entire night and she was actually enjoying his company. He wasn't as bad as Harry had painted him to be.

Harry had tried to talk her out of it all day to the point where he literally got down on his knees in the middle of the common room and begged. Hermione had had to pry him off her arm. She was still mortified at his behavior and made up her mind to speak to him about it.

Her reverie was broken by the sight of Ron rushing to the table, panting.

“What is it,” she asked nervously.

“Harry. Sick. Needs your help,” he panted.

All thoughts of McLaggen were pushed aside as she jumped from the table and bolted out of the door. Maybe he was hurt or the spell had messed up something in his body and was wreaking havoc or things much worse than she could imagine. She had to get to him before something worse happened.

“Hurry up, Ron,” she snapped over her shoulder.

“There isn't any point in rushing.”

She turned on her heel and stomped her foot. “Harry is in trouble! You said it yourself, how are you going to change your mind?”

“He's not sick,” Ron said slyly.

“What do you mean?” she asked hesitantly.

“He's not sick at all. In fact, he's moping around the common room looking like his broom got smashed to bits by the Womping Willow again. I just thought I'd save you from McLaggen so you could go talk to Harry.” He beamed and felt proud of himself for having helped his best friends.

The feeling of pride fled at the sound of Hermione shouting at him at the top of her lungs.

“HOW COULD YOU DO THAT? YOU SCARED ME HALF TO DEATH, RUNNING INTO THE LIBRARY LIKE A LUNATIC SAYING THAT HARRY IS SICK! YOU ARE A COMPLETE ARSEHOLE!”

She stormed off and left Ron cowering in a corner. This would not go well with The Boss.

* * *

She dragged herself into the common room at eleven, carrying a few extra books on Love Spells that she had checked out after McLaggen had left. All of her energy had dissipated after yelling at Ron and all she wanted to was read for an hour and sleep the sleep of the dead.

“Hermione, you're back,” Harry said jubilantly from the couch. He jumped up to hug her and Hermione placed a hand between them. His tie and two top shirt buttons were undone, black hair extra messy, and green eyes filled with a mix of fatigue and relief. To any other girl, he would have looked positively delectable, but to Hermione, he was the source of her displeasure.

“Did you put Ron up to what he did?” she interrogated.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, arms still outstretched.

“He ran like a maniac into the library while I was with McLaggen claiming that you were sick and then I find out halfway here that you aren't sick at all. Did you make him do it?”

He dropped his arms and replied indignantly, “I didn't want you to go, but I wasn't going to get Ron to go get you if you really wanted to be there. I wouldn't try to make you do anything you didn't want to.”

“You did try this evening when I left,” she responded.

“You weren't listening to anything I said. I had to do something.”

“That's not the way to do it. You could talk to me like a normal human being.”

“I wanted to be near you.”

Hermione thought, Even though I like this attention, this is creepy.

“Listen Harry, it's been a long night. I think I'll go to bed now, good night,” she sighed and walked past him.

“Can't I get a good night hug?”

“Not tonight, Harry,” she said as she continued up the stairs.

“Just one?” he pleaded.

She looked down the stairs and saw the pitiful look on his face. She couldn't deny him a simple hug. She went to him and gave him a small hug.

“Thank you,” he said when she let him go. An adoring smile was on his face, and Hermione felt something flip within her.

“You're welcome,” she replied uncertainly. “Good night.”

As she walked away he called out, “Good night, my `Mione.”

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For the rest of the week, Hermione suffered through Harry's behavior and completely ignored Ron. She was still furious for his act in the library when he came to her in the common room on Sunday afternoon while Harry was upstairs searching for his Transfiguration book.

“Hermione,” he hesitantly started, “how are you going to get him to Madame Pomfrey? It is time for you to go back to her isn't it?”

She petted Crookshanks in thought, answered, “I'm not sure; I could just ask him,” and sighed. “This has been one of the longest weeks in my life. He follows me everywhere, says everything I do is the best thing since the birth of Merlin, and compliments me on all of the little things. If he's not driving me batty, he's surprising me.”

“Well, that's good, right? Don't girls like being surprised?”

“Most of the time. What's made you such an expert on girl's feelings anyway?”

He blushed and mumbled, “Read it in a book once.”

Hermione was tempted to ask what book had made him so in tune with the other sex, but Harry bounced into the room. She decided to question Ron later.

“What are we doing today, Hermione,” Harry asked with the same bounce in his voice that was in his step.

It's now or never, she thought grimly. “I guessed we could—Harry?”

“Yes?”

“Are you feeling well?”

“Yes, why?” he asked bewildered. The look on Ron's face matched the tone in Harry's question.

“You've been looking slightly ill since yesterday. I didn't want to bring it up, it could have been just a one-day thing, but you look a little pale.” She squirmed in her seat.

Comprehension dawned on Ron's face. “Yeah, mate. You look dreadful, completely awful. Like somebody drug you through a whole herd of elephants,” he said in a morose tone.

He's overdoing it a tad, she observed. She placed a hand on Harry's head. “You're burning up.”

The bewildered look was still on his face. “I am? I feel alright, but if you say something looks wrong, I'll go to the hospital wing.” He gave his Transfiguration book to Ron and said, “See you in a bit unless you want to come?”

“Nah, I've got that stupid Transfiguration report on how to turn a pillow into a cannonball to do. I'll catch up with you later.” When Harry turned around to walk to the portrait hole, Ron gave Hermione a pointed look that clearly said, Tell him the truth. She looked to the ground feeling the beginning stages of extreme guilt.

Harry had one foot in when he turned around and asked Hermione with concern, “You are coming, aren't you?”

She nodded, bent down to let Crookshanks go, and wordlessly followed him. This was worse than before; she had only told him last time that she had something important to do, which she had. But now she was telling him that he was sick and he believed her totally. It made her a bit scared that he would do anything she said without thinking it through. Perhaps it had been a good thing that he had fallen in love her, no one would take advantage of him. So how could she explain the fact that she was taking advantage of him now? These thoughts assailed her as they stepped into the hospital wing.

“Ms. Granger, Mr. Potter, nice to see you both. What can I do for you?” Madame Pomfrey asked cheerfully.

“Hermione says I have a fever and that I look pale. Could you check me over to see what's wrong with me?”

Madame Pomfrey raised an eyebrow, but replied, “Have a seat on the bed next that window and I'll see to you in a moment,” and walked away to get her kit. He did so, watching the pained expression on Hermione's face.

“Are you okay? You don't look so good.” He groaned. “Maybe I got you sick too!”

“No, I'm fine,” she whispered.

“Are you positive?”

She nodded. “Absolutely.”

Madame Pomfrey entered the room and set to work on Harry, waving her wand over him several times and dictating to a self-writing quill her results. After a few minutes she stood back, hands on hips. “I can't find anything wrong with you. You seem just fine. Perhaps it was a quick side effect of the spell.”

“What spell?” he questioned.

She looked to Hermione with surprise. “You haven't told him anything?”

Her tongue felt dead. All she could do was nod.

“Told me what? Hermione, what's going on?”

“Mr. Potter,” Madame Pomfrey started sadly, “you are under the effects of a spell.”

“What is it?”

“A Love Spell,” Hermione said brokenly. “You think that you're in love with me.”

Harry looked from her to the Healer. “Is it true, Hermione? Don't tell me it's true.”

She fought back tears as she quietly said, “Yes.”

Harry pushed himself off the bed and walked with slow steps to the door. It closed softly behind him.

Madame Pomfrey looked at the dejected girl leaning for support against the wall. She almost said something, but decided not to and walked back to her office. Before she closed her door, hushed sobs reached her. There was no point in berating the child more than she already was.

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No threats, just a hope that you'll review.

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Hermione couldn't bear the crushing guilt. It had gnawed at her for three days and Harry hadn't spoken a word at her. The odd thing was that he didn't seem angry. Whenever she looked at him, she saw a pain so deep that it cut her. But it wasn't as if she saw him often. He avoided her whenever possible and took to going straight to his dormitory when dinner was over. Sometimes he didn't even come down for dinner or breakfast.

It was one of those breakfasts that he didn't come down for that Hermione finally cracked.

“Where is he?” she asked Ron.

He shrugged. “I'm not sure. He's gone when I wake up. All I know is that he shows up for Charms on time and that he's there before we get there.”

“Ron, how bad did I hurt him?”

“I've only seen him like this in fifth year. You remember how he was, always moody and shouting.” He fumbled for the words. “It's that sort of confusion without the yelling. He won't talk anymore; I can't even get a hello out of him. It doesn't look like he'll get out of it soon either.”

“Ron, I'm going to go find him.” She stepped away from the table at exactly the same moment the bell rang for the first class of the day.

Ron stood up and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Don't worry, he'll be there. You can talk to him after class.”

Once they got there, there was no Harry. Fifteen minutes later, there was still no Harry. They looked at one another in confusion and deepened into concern when he didn't show up for the class.

“Do you think he's left?” Hermione asked Ron as they walked toward a staircase.

“No, but I'm not sure where he is. Maybe he'll show up in my class. I'll tell you if he does.”

“Okay, but if he doesn't we're going to look for him. See you after class,” she said and they parted ways.

Arithimacy went by at an excruciating pace. Where was he? He wouldn't run off without telling them. At least, he usually wouldn't. He probably thought they couldn't care less. More so, he thought she couldn't care less. All of her guilt threatened to overwhelm her. She stared out of the window the entire class, not even noticing when Professor Vector let them out of class early because of their excellent test scores. He had to tap on her desk four times before she finally began to pack up.

“Are you alright, Ms. Granger? You seem a bit distracted,” he queried with interest.

“I'm okay, Professor. Just worried about a friend,” she answered as she walked out of the door.

She walked toward the Great Hall, hoping to find Ron so they could search for Harry. She passed a window with her head down in thought. She saw a moving figure outside at the corner of her eye and for a moment she thought she saw a mass of black, messy hair. Looking out of the window, she saw that she had been correct. He gripped his Firebolt and trudged toward the Quidditch pitch, unaware of Hermione watching him.

Hermione ran to the large oak doors and chased him down. “Harry!” she cried.

He turned his head and for a second, she saw a euphoric gleam in his eyes. It faded away just as soon as she saw it and he turned away, not changing his pace.

“Harry, please wait!”

He slowed his gait and waited for her to catch up and returned to his original speed when she reached his side.

“Harry,” she said in between breaths, “talk to me. Please.”

He made no sign that he heard her.

“Why weren't you in class today?”

“It's not like the war didn't teach all that we need to know,” he intoned.

She conceded at his point and they walked to the Quidditch pitch in silence. After a few moments she glanced at his face and said clearly, “I'm sorry for what I did. It wasn't right and I should have told you the truth the day of and not a week later.”

“That's not what's bothering me the most, though,” he replied. “I can see why you did it. It wasn't right, but I see why. It was for the protection of my feelings, so I wouldn't fall into myself.” He snorted and continued, “Kind of like I am now. But what really scares me is the fact that in a flash, I won't be able to love you like I am now. I'll have to be alone again and watch you with guys like McLaggen.” He angrily kicked a stone out of his path. “Guys that don't really care about you like I do or see past that brainy exterior to the girl who wants a hug inside.”

Hermione was surprised at the venom in his voice he talked about McLaggen. “Well, there's somebody out there—“

“Yeah, and that's me! I'm that guy!” He stopped and turned to face her. “I want to stay with you, we belong together! And this stupid spell,” he ended, frustrated, and started again in a calmer tone, “it's put a block there. It's as if you expect me to find someone else and leave you alone. I'm not, ever. I'll be your friend for always. You have to trust me and know that in spite of this spell that's what I'm going to do.”

She stood there and wondered at the conviction in his words. He had never shown this type of emotion towards her and she realized that he was right, she had put a block there. He wanted to be, over everything else, her friend. The guilt rose in her throat. “I didn't mean to,” she told him after letting his speech sink in.

He smiled. “I know, but I don't care.”

“So you forgive me just like that?”

“I love you, Hermione. That's what people in love do when petty stuff comes up.”

Amused, she thought, I'm completely speechless for once.

“Hermione, are you going to come watch me fly? Please come,” he pleaded.

“I can't. I have some things I need to do for Professor Slughorn before we go to his class.”

His face fell slightly. “Oh, okay. I'll see you at Potions, then?”

“Most definitely,” she laughed and did something that surprised her, and kissed him on the cheek. He put a hand up to his cheek and numbly waved good-bye to Hermione as she walked off.

Hermione wasn't there his loop-de-loops around the pitch and his feeling of doing them on the ground when he came down an hour later.

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Please review and concrit is appreciated.

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I know it's been a long wait and here it is!

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“C'mon, Harry, you know you want to come,” Ron wheedled over breakfast.

“For the eighth time, I'm not, you deserve some quality time with your family.”

“You are family! Come with us.”

Hermione chuckled as she watched the on-going fight between Harry and Ron. Christmas holiday was around the corner and Ron's family had been given the opportunity to visit Bill and Fleur in Paris. He had been trying for two weeks to make Harry come along, but every answer was a stout no.

“It'll be fun! Who doesn't want to have fun?” he said exasperatedly.

“I'll have loads of fun here, at Hogwarts. Just be sure to bring me something back and to not stare at Fleur longer than you have to.”

Ron's cheeks colored slightly. “Fine, but you can't say that I didn't invite you.” He stuffed a piece of ham into his mouth. “So, `Ermione, wha' are you doin' for `istmas?” he asked through his mouthful.

She couldn't help but grimace at Ron's table manners. He snorted and she rolled her eyes in response, answering, “My parents are planning to go to Australia this year. It does sound like fun, but I'm not sure if I want to go. They haven't has a trip to themselves for a few years and I think they would enjoy it.”

“You're staying here too?” Ron asked incredulously.

“You're staying here too?” Harry asked with his eyes full of hope.

Hermione glanced back and forth between the two. “That was my intention,” she said.

Ron shook his head while Harry beamed.

“You two are so boring,” he said good-naturedly.

“It's just me and you for two weeks, Hermione! I'm so happy!” Harry shouted. The entire student body turned to look at him. He showed no sign of embarrassment and continued talking to Hermione in a booming voice. She shrank in her seat. She had finally gotten used to his outbursts, but at times it was still a bit uncomfortable.

For the rest of the day, the three of them lounged in easy classes due to the fact that the next day most of the student body would be gone for Christmas. Even Hermione allowed herself some free time from studying for NEWTS.

Later that night, Harry, Hermione, Ron, Luna, Ginny, and Neville were gathered in the Room of Requirement, enjoying a private get-together before the holiday.

Neville finished, “Dean and Seamus ran so fast from the were-cat after he spit at them that Hagrid had to actually run to catch up with them. It was crazy.”

The group laughed. They hadn't been together like this for several months and it felt nice to be all in one place without the fear of death hanging over them.

Luna nuzzled into Ron on a couch. “Were-cats aren't to be trifled with. They can hear your thoughts sometimes and even influence you to do things you normally wouldn't. Dean and Seamus did a very smart thing.”

Hermione nodded in approval. Leave it to Luna to get information correct on a misunderstood animal. The clock chimed twelve o'clock and the face read, “Time to head to bed or the lot of you will sleep until noon.”

There were several groans and oaths. They didn't want to leave one another so soon.

Ginny stood up first. “I guess I'll nip by the kitchens and get a cup of tea before bed.”

“Can't the Room give it to you? And how do you know about the kitchens anyway?” Ron asked with interest.

“I'd like to walk down there myself and the twins told me during the summer. It's not like you ever would,” she quipped and walked out of the Room, waving good-bye to everyone with a smile on her face.

“I will give the man that can tame her five Galleons,” Ron scowled.

“Who knows when that will happen,” Neville laughed. He said his good-nights and left.

Ron stretched. “Blimey, we haven't done this since we were looking for the Horcruxes.”

Harry looked at the floor. “I'm glad that we'll never have to deal with that again.”

All of them nodded in agreement. A few minutes of silence passed which were ruined when Ron jerked awake and almost fell off the couch.

Harry and Hermione laughed while Luna merely smiled and helped Ron to his feet. “Looks like it's time for all of us to go to bed.”

“I'll walk you to your common room,” he said through a yawn.

Luna shook her head. “Good night to the both of you. Be sure to watch out for Late-Night Yahoos, they prey on the tired and steal their right shoes.”

“Yeah, really dangerous, they are,” Ron agreed as they walked out of the room.

Hermione softly giggled. They were a pair all right. She glanced at Harry and was unnerved because he was staring at her.

“Don't tell me that there's still some ash on my face from Exploding Snap?” she joked.

“No,” he answered distantly. “I was reminding myself how beautiful you are.”

A blush crept to her cheeks. How many times have I blushed in the past three weeks, she wondered. “Thank you, Harry,” she mumbled.

“I guess we should go to bed too.” He stood up and held out a hand to help her off the floor. She took it and for the briefest moment, she felt an intense jolt of electricity. She gasped and Harry quickly let go of her hand to bring his hands to her face.

“Are you okay? Did something happen? What is it?” he asked urgently.

“N-nothing. Really, everything is okay,” she assured her still worried friend. “I'm probably just tired, is all.”

Harry still seemed uncertain, but took her word. He took her hand and they left the Room. The rest of the way to the common room, she could still feel a tingle in her right hand.

The next morning, Harry and Hermione waved good-bye to their friends from the Hogsmeade station.

“Remember what I said, Ron!” Harry shouted over the noise.

“I'll stare enough for the both of us, mate!” He let out a yell of pain. “Luna, I'm joking, seriously,” he said quickly. “Ouch, stop elbowing me!”

The train roared off in a great show of steam and noise. Hermione waved until she could no longer see the train.

“Ron is going to get himself hurt one of these days,” Harry guffawed.

“Luna won't hurt him too much, he'll be alright.”

They walked from the station in good spirits and strolled in the direction of the school.

“Is McLaggen staying over for Christmas?” Harry asked with a nonchalant air.

“No, he seemed excited to be visiting home when I last tutored him.”

“How dreadful that he won't be here to intrude—I mean, enjoy your company.”

She rolled her eyes. “I didn't know that you could be so sarcastic.”

“There are lots of things you don't know. For example, I love watching you walk.”

“What?”

He reached for her hand as he explained himself. “You always give off this air of knowing what you're doing, how you're going to do it, and when you're going to do it. Your head's back, shoulders straight, no sign of backing down. I love that about you.”

Hermione stared at him. “Well, there are some things you don't know about me.”

Interested, he raised his eyebrow. “Tell me.”

“Sometimes I don't know what I'm doing and I get scared. I'm not nearly as confident as people think I am and I feel that I have to live up to their expectations. It's difficult at times.”

For a few minutes, Harry was silent. At length, he said, “Have you told that to anyone before?”

“I—you know what, no. I haven't.” Why am I telling this to Harry, she wondered. A small voice in the back of her head that she had never heard before whispered, Because you know he'd never tell anyone else and that he'd support you. She was troubled, but ignored the voice.

“I'm glad I was the first. I'm always here to boost you up, Hermione.” He moved a little closer to her and said in a low voice, “You don't have to feel alone.”

She took a step away from him, unused to his closeness. Harry swore under his breath and quickly apologized. “I forgot again. Sorry.”

“It's okay,” she said shakily.

“Speaking of the spell,” he began, “you never told me how to break it. Couldn't you use Finite Icantatem to end it quickly?”

“We could, but there have been many documented disadvantages to casting it with the purpose of ending such an emotional spell. People have had their emotions severally damaged for life because of it. Then there runs the risk of you losing the things you…feel for me altogether.”

“I don't want that to happen!” He clenched her hand and wisps of condensation puffed from his nose rapidly. “Nothing is worth the price of losing you, not even getting rid of this spell. The weird thing is that it doesn't feel as strong as it did the first day I was under it.” For the briefest moment, panic flickered across his face. “Am I losing my feelings for you anyway?”

Hermione shook her head no and Harry visibly relaxed. “You're a very strong wizard in your own right, Harry. You can throw off the Imperious Curse, and this spell is similar to that one because of its impact on a person's actions and emotions.” She continued with her explanation, “I think that your body reacts in the same way. You can't throw off the spell entirely, but it is affecting you.”

“Makes sense,” Harry nodded. “So, how do we break the spell?”

She watched the falling snow. “A kiss.”

“Like in Snow White or Sleeping Beauty?”

“In a way. It has to be a kiss from the person that you've fallen in love with.”

“So, I'd kiss you and the spell would be broken?”

“The person you're kissing has to love you back, however. That's the catch. People have stayed under Love Spells for years without any type of relief. You can't break a real love with magic. Amortium is powerful that way; it awakens real feelings in a person instead of superficial ones created by Love Potions and such.”

Harry squeezed her hand. “I'm glad that this wasn't a potion then. Knowing that these feelings are fake would be hard to swallow. I really do love you.”

She couldn't think of a way to answer him. How was he able to get her so tongue-tied with a single phrase? To her relief, the gates of Hogwarts came into view.

Harry grinned and let go of her hand. “First one to the castle is a baggy, old hag. You ready?”

She took off running. “Actually, I am!” she yelled into the wind.

“No fair! You cheated!” He ran behind her and gathered speed.

It was determined that Harry was a baggy, old hag.

* * *

“I'm not used to the Great Hall being so quiet,” Hermione whispered to Harry.

“Yeah, it's kind of spooky.”

Only a handful of students were still in the school, mostly first and seventh years. They still sat at their respective tables and Hermione took a quick look down the table to find that the only Gryffindors there were four first-years, three boys and a girl, and one fifth year boy.

“Hey, Hermione?”

“Yes?”

“Why are we whispering?”

She laughed loudly and gained the attention of the occupants of the Hall. Some of the nastier Slytherins glared at her for interrupting their dinner. Harry glared back until they nervously looked away and picked at their food.

“You didn't have to scare them,” she scolded.

“They were threatening you. Anybody that threatens you has to deal with me.”

“Still watching over me, my servant?” she asked affectionately.

He took her hand and kissed it. “Always, my lady,” he murmured. He let go of her hand to return to his meal after she coughed uneasily.

“I wish some boy would do that to me,” the Gryffindor girl on the end sighed.

Hermione groaned inwardly. This Harry was something that she had never encountered before. He was a predicament she couldn't solve with reason and logic.

Merlin, help me.

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Updates may be slow from now on since I'm dealing with some things, but I'm working on it! Please review!

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I was able to get over some writer's block that had me in a chokehold and I was able to pump out this chapter. Also, I'd like to thank fenriswolf for helping me with the concept behind breaking the spell from last chapter. Without him, a huge plot hole would have swallowed the story whole. See if you can spot the Harmony theory joke!

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Hermione sat in a corner of the couch closest to the common room fire enjoying her book on medieval witches. Inside of that book was a slightly shrunken copy of Witch Weekly, but thankfully no one was standing over her shoulder to read along. Harry and Ron would have had a field day.

Thinking of Harry, she glanced at the small clock over the mantle that had been installed while Harry, Ron, and she were looking for the Horcruxes. It showed each Gryffindors whereabouts and was quite similar to the Weasley clock with a few extra settings such as “Detention,” “Quidditch Pitch,” and “Hogsmeade.” Harry's clock hand was pointing at the latter.

He's been there for two and a half hours, she wondered. Where is he? She looked expectantly at the portrait hole.

No Harry.

She chuckled. He had good timing, but he wasn't that good. Returning to her periodical (she refused to call it a magazine), her mind wandered. At the beginning of the week, the both of them had been tentative towards one another. But as always, the stilted conversations turned into three-hour long discussions on…well, anything. At times, the Love Spell caused him to say things she didn't expect such as “You're so cute when you're guilty,” when he discovered that sometimes she still slept with a small, stuffed dog when she returned home in a game of Truth or Dare that had taken place yesterday. In exchange, he had to tell her about his love for the movie Emma.

“It's just that I understand where she's coming from!” he protested with a heavy blush.

A smile lit up Hermione's face at the memory. A copy of the movie would be the perfect gag gift for his birthday present next year. His Christmas present, on the other hand, was already wrapped in her trunk. She knew he would love it.

But what if he doesn't, she thought with apprehension. Her thoughts increased in her panic. What if he hates it and demands that I take it back? What if he stops caring about me?

“Nonsense,” she muttered. “Where did that come from?”

“Where did what come from?” asked Harry as he leaned over the top of the couch.

She slammed her book shut in surprise and embarrassment. “When did you get here?” she stammered.

“A few minutes ago. I saw you staring at something on the rug and then I heard you mumble `What was that about?' What were you talking about?” He moved from his position from over her shoulder, walked to the other end of the couch, and sat down.

“Something I was thinking about is all.” She slowly placed her book behind her back.

“Oh, okay.” He settled back against the cushions and closed his eyes. “Hogsmeade was busy. I thought I was going to get crushed in Honeydukes. Almost got crushed by some huge cart of Ice Mice.”

She laughed. “What did you get?”

“Gifts for Ron, Luna, Ginny, and Neville.” He opened one eye and looked over at her. “So what's that behind your back?”

“What do you mean?”

“You can't hide too much from me, Hermione. What's that book behind your back?”

She blushed. He had seen it. “It's just a book on medieval witches and their lives. It's actually very interesting. Did you know that….

“The color blue is very `in' right now? Why, yes, I did.” He grinned at the look on her face and turned his body to face her. “Can I borrow your copy? I need to read my horoscope for the month.”

She began to blush. “It's an extremely informational periodical! There are some well-written editorials and articles!”

He crept along the couch. “I'd very much like to see it.”

“I'm afraid I can't do that,” she said, stalling for time to gather her magic to cast a nonverbal,

wand-less Transportus spell to send her spell back to her room.

He was inches away. He brought his nose to hers and whispered, “I think otherwise.”

His eyes were captivating. She had never noticed how green or clear they were. If she looked hard enough, she could see the mischievous gleam in them. And then they were so bright…. The observations stopped when she felt her book slowly slipping out of her hand. She jerked the book out of his grasp and fought him off long enough to cast the spell. The book disappeared with a pop.

“Wow, that was impressive,” he said approvingly.

She beamed. “Thank you.” Remembering what he did, she accused, “You did that on purpose!”

The light left his eyes and he shook his head, saying, “I didn't mean to take it that far. I'm sorry.”

She harrumphed which earned a small snort from Harry. It was then that Hermione realized that they were very close. Very close. She gulped.

Harry noticed as well and moved his arm from around her waist. He backed away, stuttering “S-sorry.” She was surprised to see that his face was crimson.

“No apologizes needed,” she said quietly. In a desperate attempt to change the subject, she asked, “What did you get Ron?”

From there the conversation went from Christmas present to Christmas past, the incident before forgotten between them.

If only Hermione could get the image of his eyes out of her head, so her heart rate would slow.

* * *

“I'm off to bed, Harry,” she yawned two nights later.

“But it's Christmas Eve! You can't sleep!”

“Maybe you can't. I can.” She stood up and stretched her arms. “Good night.”

“'Night, Hermione,” he called from his spot on an armchair.

She wearily climbed up the steps; it had been a long day. First, Peeves had hidden the first-years bags, and Hermione spent an hour searching for those and sending them along their way. Then she had rushed off to meet Professor Flitwick for extra training for her N.E.W.T.S., completely forgoing breakfast and lunch. On her way to Professor Davis, the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, she planned to go to the kitchens later for a snack, but was saved the trouble when she found Harry waiting in his office with lunch for the both of them. After lunch, the two dueled several times under Professor Davis's eye. Harry was the victor of each of them and Hermione was very proud of him. Unfortunately, it resulted in many small aches for her. Grimacing, she flexed her left leg. Too good for his own good, she thought with grim humor, but it had saved his life during the war. She wouldn't have wanted anything less.

She reached her dormitory, dressed for bed, and collapsed into bed with a sigh. It had been a very productive and, once Harry was with her, fun Christmas Eve. Sleep overtook her thoughts.

* * *

A cry from downstairs awoke Hermione. It was eerily familiar, but she couldn't place it. She dashed out of bed, and half-way down the stairs, she knew who it was.

Harry.

Her mind went blank from terror. She put on an extra burst of speed and bounded down the steps three at a time. When she reached the bottom, she found Harry sitting upright and gasping for air on the armchair that she had left him in. At some point during the night he had put on a pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt. The t-shirt was soaked with sweat and his eyes were blank as he stared at her.

She rushed to his side and kneeled down next to the chair. “Harry? Can you hear me?” she asked urgently. The growing numbers of Gryffindors in the common room were a blur. He had to be okay. “Harry?” she said a little louder.

He broke out of his trance. The same hands that seconds ago that had been gripping the arms of the chair were immediately embracing her. He buried his face in her neck. In hoarse, broken, sobs he choked out, “'Mione…'Mione…so worried….”

She stroked his hair. “It's alright, Harry. It's alright.” The fifth-year shooed the gawking first-years back up the stairs. He didn't know them well, but he understood that the both of them needed privacy.

Hermione did not see them leave. Her only concern was Harry.

“He had you,” he croaked. “Kidnapped you--killed you before my eyes. Laughed and called you Mudblood. Then he killed everyone else. He stared at me the whole time with those slits. And then it started over again. Grinned the entire time he was killing you. And…” His voice broke into sobs. “Hermione,” he said between gasps.

“Don't worry. I'm here and Ron's alive. Ginny, Luna, Neville, and the Weasleys are all alive,” she said comfortingly. “I'm here, Harry, I'm here.”

He hugged her tighter. “Don't leave me.”

“I won't, Harry.”

They stayed that way for an hour. Hermione noted that Harry had become quiet and let him go. He began to panic.

“Please stay,” he pleaded.

She was torn. Would it be right?

“Please, Hermione.”

She climbed into his lap hesitantly and Harry laid his head on her shoulder. She moved into a more comfortable position.

“Thank you,” he sighed.

He quickly fell asleep, leaving Hermione to contemplate her new situation. He had dreamed of her death and his reaction had been so violent. Why?

She fell asleep with her head full of questions and the feel of his heartbeat next to hers.

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Hey guys! I know it's an early update, but I couldn't help it!

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“Bloody sun,” Hermione mumbled. She made a sleepy note to curb her desire to curse every time she woke up.

“My, my. What a horrid vocabulary you have,” Harry chuckled softly.

“Only because I've been around you two for seven years.”

“Don't blame me for your terrible habits,” he snorted.

She playfully swatted him on the shoulder, but it only made him bury his face into her neck. She pushed him away and in doing so brought her arms around his neck. For a second, all she could see were his eyes filled with love. In an instant, the night before replayed through her mind. Harry caught on and the both of them looked down at their compromising position.

I am in his lap. I. Am. In. His. Lap.

Harry opened his mouth several times that reminded her of a fish, but no sound came out.

On the couch opposite them, the first-year girl giggled. “You are so cute!”

They stared at her and then at one another.

“I should go change,” she muttered.

“Yeah, me too,” he answered.

She jumped out of his lap and ran upstairs. Great job, Hermione, you've scared him. You and your agreement with him last night. Now he's probably so embarrassed that he won't speak to me at all. She threw herself on the bed and sighed. Might as well prepare myself for a lonely Christmas.

Minutes later, a knock sounded on the door.

“Come in,” she answered.

The first-year from downstairs poked her head around the door. “Hullo, Hermione. Is it alright if I call you that? I know that you're really important and stuff and if I'm bothering you then….”

“You're not doing anything wrong. Come sit down.” She sat up and patted a spot on the bed.

“Really? I get to come in the seventh years room? Oh wow, wait until Wendy gets back from holiday, she'll never believe it!” She practically skipped to the bed and sat down.

Hermione had spoken to her once or twice. She was tall for her age and her strawberry blonde hair made her stand out all the more.

“Harry sent me up here.” She blushed slightly at Harry's name. “He—uh—wanted to see if you were coming back downstairs,” she said while casting her brown eyes around the room.

“He wants to see me?”

“Of course. You're his girlfriend, aren't you?”

This time, it was Hermione who blushed. “Er—no. I'm just his friend.”

“Oh,” the girl answered with surprise. “I thought that you that you two were together. I just thought—never mind.” She recovered quickly from her shock and continued with her message, “He said that he was sorry. He didn't want you to feel that he was making you do anything that you didn't want to. He also said that if you don't come down he'll give your gift to someone named Millicent Bullstrode.”

“He wouldn't dare!” she exclaimed softly.

“He said that he would give it to her as soon as she got off the train.”

“Evil prat,” she muttered. “Tell him that I'm coming down and that he should be ready to run for his life as soon as I do.”

The girl gave a bright smile. “I will.” She got up and had one foot outside the door.

“Hold on,” Hermione said. “What's your name?”

She stopped and looked back. “I'm Lucy Baker. Good-bye, Hermione.” Lucy was out of the door before Hermione could say anything else.

“Give the gift away, will he? We'll see about that.” She dressed in her Muggle clothes and walked down the steps, muttering all the while. At the bottom of the steps, he was talking to Lucy by the fire. Despite her irritation, she had to smile. He was a charmer. She noiselessly walked over to them. When she was five steps away, Harry turned to her. He returned her smile.

“You came down,” he said.

“You threatened my Christmas gift. I had to do something,” she countered.

“Knew it would. Would you like to eat or get your present first?” His stomach rumbled after he spoke.

“I think that we should eat for your sake. Wouldn't want you to die of starvation on Christmas.”

“Good, because that was what I wanted to do anyway.” He walked over to her and held out his arm. When she gave him a raised eyebrow, he replied, “I can't have my lady hurt herself on the way to the Great Hall. Who would I serve if something terrible happened to you?”

She took his arm and as they walked towards the exit, she quipped, “Perhaps Lavender.”

“She's not enough like you. It would never work.”

They both waved good-bye to Lucy and crawled out of the portrait hole.

* * *

Two hours later, they sat in a secluded spot near the greenhouses. Hermione clutched Harry's present to her chest. Would he even like it?

“You first, Hermione.”

She handed it to him and looked away. She had never really seen him open a present that he had received from her. It was surprisingly nerve-wracking.

“This is great! Wow, Hermione, you always find the things I need!”

She looked up from a pile of snow on the ground and grinned at the look on his face. “You're welcome, Harry,” she said shyly. Why was I ever nervous? And why do I feel so relieved?

“Kicking Arse and Taking Names: A History of Aurors,” he read from the back of the book. “Also includes guidelines and suggestions into becoming an Auror yourself.” He flipped through the pages. “I'm going to start on this before I go to bed. This is fantastic.”

Hermione drew patterns in the snow. “I'm glad you like it.”

“Now, for yours.” He put a hand in his right pocket and withdrew a small wrapped box. Curious, she took it and took the wrapping off in way that she didn't destroy the wrapping paper.

“Come on, you're making me nervous,” he joked.

The paper came off gently and she took the top off the box. She gasped.

Inside was a small necklace. A silver heart hung from the chain that sparkled in the light. She looked closely and saw that it was covered in a fine powder of diamonds. It was simple, yet beautiful. She took the necklace out of the box and realized that the chain was covered in the same powder as the heart.

“Harry, it's beautiful,” she breathed.

“Really? I thought that it would be too much.”

“It's exactly right.” She turned it over in her hand. “You got this from Hogsmeade?”

“It took some hard searching, but as soon as I saw it, I had to get it for you. You're my only heart, Hermione.”

She could feel his love for her coming from him in droves. She looked into his eyes and for a moment, felt something inside of her snap. It was almost like a strap that was holding something down. She held out the necklace.

“Could you help me put it on?”

“Sure.”

She turned around and lifted up her hair. He put it around her neck and when it was on, backed away slowly.

“Wanna go back inside?”

She nodded and he took her hand. The jolt of electricity from the Room of Requirement flooded through her, but she didn't notice. Harry's words were echoing in her mind.

You're my only heart, Hermione.

* * *

Later that night, the occupants of Gryffindor Tower had a small Christmas party. Hermione had only met some them that very night, but it didn't stop them from having fun. Jonathan, the fifth year, had produced a pile of wizard crackers from nowhere and small pops filled the room. Harry, however, took himself away from the party early and sat by the fire, tossing a pillow into the air and catching it. Hermione went over to cheer him up.

“I'm guessing the pillow is engaging you with deep conversation.”

He grinned. “We were just discussing the meaning of life. He makes very valid points.”

She scooted closer to him. “He looks like a philosopher.”

“All he has to do is sit here all day, thinking. A very smart bloke.” Harry set the pillow in his lap and unexpectedly hugged her.

“Happy Christmas, Hermione. I just wanted to tell you.”

She hugged him tighter. “Happy Christmas, Harry. How about we go back to the party?”

“Yeah,” he answered and sat back, his arms still around her waist. A small gust of air from above made them look up. “Mistletoe,” he mused.

It wobbled once, and then righted itself. Hermione looked around to see who was levitating it, but she could find no one. She glanced at Harry to find her staring at her.

“You know what they say,” he said, flicking his eyes to the once again wobbling branch.

She knew all too well. He leaned towards her and she knew that she should have said “Stop” or “I feel sick”. But she didn't want to. She leaned closer to him and shut her eyes. It wouldn't hurt for one kiss….

Fireworks went off. Literally. She opened her eyes to find that they were inches apart, but the fireworks continued.

“What in Merlin's name,” she started when Harry pulled her down quickly. Something whizzed over their heads. After getting up, a very impressive fireworks display commenced.

She looked over to the table where two of the first years, both Muggle-borns, gawked open-mouthed at the fireworks. A half of a wizard cracker was in their hands. The transferred their awed looks to one another and exhaled in unison, “Wizard.”

Hermione felt anger cloud her judgment. They weren't the ones responsible for ruining her kiss with Harry.

I never wanted one. I didn't. I don't know what I'm talking about, she thought determinedly.

The fireworks created words and she grew even angrier.

Made by Weasleys Wizarding Wheezes!

“If I ever find the person who helped them set up that ridiculous shop, I will personally give them such a hexing that they won't know which way is up!” she huffed. Harry had a queer expression on his face. She asked him tenderly, “What's the matter?”

“Ah—nothing. Just thinking of—er, past business, is all.” He looked a little pale.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I think I should go to bed.” He let go of her and stood up. “See you in the morning?”

She smiled. “Of course, Harry. Good-night.”

He bent down and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “'Night.” He walked away and up the stairs.

Sighing, she leaned back against the cushions. What had happened back there? And why had she welcomed that kiss? Well, almost kiss. She rubbed her temples. This was getting very confusing.

Underneath a table, Lucy cursed softly. Professor Flitwick had told her that her Wingardium Leviosa needed some work.

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Yes, I know. Please don't hate me for life. Review instead!

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The rest of the week passed peacefully, much to Hermione’s pleasure. On Sunday afternoon, her and Harry stood at the Hogsmeade platform waiting for the Express to arrive. Hermione nervously fingered her necklace.

“They’ll be here soon,” he said soothingly.

She smiled, but she continued to toy with her necklace. It had become a habit of hers. She found that it calmed her down. She rejected the idea that it calmed her because it was Harry’s gift.

“See, look!” he shouted, but it was hard to hear over the deafening noise of the train. Even from her vantage point, she could see the flaming red hair and hoarse shout of Ron.

“Hey, you love birds!”

She grimaced at the action of her other best friend, but where would she be without him?

* * *

The next morning, Hermione sat between Harry and Ron reading The Quibbler. She had sworn Harry to never tell Ron about the Witch Weekly incident under the pain of telling Ron of Harry’s like of romance movies. He caught her eye and snorted into his pumpkin juice. She narrowed her eyes in warning and he returned to his breakfast, the hint of a smile on his face. She would get him later.

Ron swore as he looked at a change in the schedule for the new term. “Double N.E.W.T. Level Potions with the Slytherins. I wish that we were still with the Ravenclaws.”

“They weren’t complete gits,” Harry joked.

“It won’t be that bad,” Hermione said. “There’ll only be a few of us in there at any rate and we can ignore anything they say.”

“None of them better say anything. Especially Malfoy,” Harry growled. He started to tremble with anger. “I keep remembering how he called you a Mudblood and….” He trailed off attempting to regain his composure. Hermione laid a hand on his arm which made him relax. Eyes filled with gratitude, his quickened breathing returned to normal. Ron didn’t notice any of this, still mortified over Slughorn’s modification to his class.

“Lost his marbles, he has,” he grumbled.

The bell rang and a stampede of students rushed out of the doors of the Great Hall. Harry, Ron, and Hermione joked all the way to class and once there, sat in their usual order, Harry with Hermione and Ron next to them at another table.

Hermione had been right about the small number of people in the class. The only other Gryffindor was Neville. Ron waved him over and he sat down next to Ron.

“You have no idea how happy I am to see you three. I thought I’d be in here by myself.”

“Glad to see you,” Ron said lightly. “The more Gryffindors, the better.”

Hermione was tempted to start one of her lectures on House unity, but the entrance of the rest of the class made her silent. Malfoy with his “friends”, Crabbe and Goyle, sauntered in, Pansy draped on Draco’s arm, and Millicent Bullstrode bringing up the rear. She had to squeeze to fit in.

Ron’s snort at Millicent’s entry was barely audible, but she heard it anyway and she glowered at him. He met her glower with his own, making her turn away with a sneer a few seconds later. Harry congratulated Ron with a pound on the back.

Boys, thought Hermione with a roll of her eyes.

“Why, Potter, I didn’t think you’d be able to make this far into the term seeing as you’re so—distracted,” Draco said significantly. The Slytherins chuckled, although they had no idea what he was talking about. Harry reached for his wand.

Hermione shook her head. “Not here, Harry,” she whispered.

He withdrew his hand from his robes and gave Hermione’s hand a slight squeeze under the table. He busied himself with preparing the materials for the day’s lesson that was written on the board. She glimpsed at Malfoy. The other Slytherins were too busy jeering Harry on his lack of reaction to notice his stunned look. He moved to his seat at the front of the class, silently beckoning his housemates. They turned their backs on the Gryffindors, but not before she saw the puzzled look on Malfoy’s face.

Professor Slughorn waddled into the classroom ten minutes later. “So sorry, had to get the room ready for the Slug Club meeting tonight!” he blustered. “I trust you’ll be attending Ms. Granger. You did miss last month’s!”

“I’m so sorry, Professor. I have so much to do tonight and I don’t think I’ll be able to,” she tried to say in a morose tone, but came out as joyful instead.

Ron coughed to hide his laugh and Harry rubbed his face to disguise his grin. Neville turned red with suppressed laughter. When Harry and Hermione had come back to school, they had avoided the Club in all ways possible. Hermione had used her tried-and-true excuse of schoolwork to deter him and as for Harry—Slughorn was too afraid to ask.

Slughorn started slowly, “Be sure to drop by if you have time. I do love hearing your views!” He cleared his throat. “Now, for today’s lesson. On the board, you see a recipe for Verbatim Potion, which allows a person to say anything flawlessly that they have heard before. The catch is that not all of the ingredients on the board are needed. It is you and your tablemate’s jobs to find out what is needed and brew the potion by the end of the week. Whoever’s the best gets a special surprise at the end! Now, if you need any help at all, I’ll be in my office. I have to contact some friends of mine to inquire about some promised items.” He gave them a hearty wave and walked away, closing the door behind him.

“Wait, so that’s it?” Ron whined. “No help, no way to get started, no nothing?”

“It is an N.E.W.T. level class, Ron,” Hermione reminded.

“Cheer up. We’ve got the rest of the week,” Harry said comfortingly. Neville nodded in agreement and promised to do the best he could in his weakest subject. Ron grinned.

“Let’s do it, Neville! We’ll get that prize for sure!” His eyes glittered with upcoming competition.

“I think we made a monster,” Harry whispered to Hermione as they watched Ron furiously take notes from his Potions book and consult Neville on ideas.

“At least he’ll want to do the work,” she whispered back. Her mind was swimming with the task ahead. This was already a pass-or-fail grade.

The group at the front of the room was mystified by Draco’s odd behavior. He hadn’t even turned around to make fun of Weasley when he had complained about the project. They shared looks of concern and looked at Draco. He looked simply confused. Once he saw that they were staring at him, he snapped and they went back to work.

Pansy glanced at Millicent and shared a knowing look.

It was time to do something about the Muggle-born upstart.

* * *

Harry, Hermione, and Ron sat in the library pouring over books for the project on Wednesday. They had been there for three hours and even Hermione’s vision was going blurry.

“Bollocks to this,” Ron growled. He closed his book with a slam, causing Harry to jerk out of his almost doze state and gawk at him with bleary eyes. Hermione lazily looked up from her book and stared at him from across the table. “I am going to sleep. It is eleven, I’m tired, and I have to suffer through that hard Charms test tomorrow. Good night.” He got and asked Harry, “You coming, mate?”

Harry looked from Ron to Hermione several times. “Are you staying here?” he asked her.

“It couldn’t hurt to take more notes. You go on to bed; I’ll be up in a bit,” she said, barely holding back a yawn.

“No, I’m staying here. Thanks for the offer, Ron, but I’ll see you in the morning.”

Ron waved at the both of them and walked out of the library door. Hermione watched amused as Harry shook his head to wake himself up, his hair in all directions when he was done.

“Your hair is hopeless,” she chuckled.

He smiled and returned to his book.

Hermione leafed through the pages, looking for anything that could enhance the effects of the potion. After an hour, she gave up and closed the book softly. Harry looked up from his book with difficulty.

“Goin’ to bed?” he mumbled.

She nodded and they both of them gratefully left the library. She leaned into Harry as they walked and he held her around the waist.

“I don’t even think I’m going to be able to get up in the morning,” she mumbled.

He agreed in an incoherent growl.

She reached for her book sack to reach for a Chocolate Frog to keep her conscious until they reached the common room. All she felt was air. “Oh no,” she moaned.

“Wha’ is it?”

“I left my bag. I’ve got to go back for it.” She moved from under Harry’s arm and began the trek back to the library.

“You want me to come with you?” he asked sounding a little more awake.

“No, I’ve got it. Just wait here for me, okay? I’ll be right back.”

He looked apprehensive, but answered, “All right.”

She turned away from him and walked back. It’s a good thing that we hadn’t gone too far, she thought. The library was being closed for the night when Hermione got there. She hurried to the closing doors and shouted, “Madame Pince!”

The woman in question stopped the doors with her wand and asked irritably, “What is it that you need?”

“I left my bag at the table I was sitting in and I need to come in to get it. Is it all right if I come in?”

Madame Pince frowned and simply summoned the bag to her with an “Accio!” She handed it to her and slammed the doors in her face.

Hermione walked off in a foul mood. Why couldn’t she grow tired gracefully? She had not gone far when the sound of footsteps echoed behind her. She looked over her shoulder to see Millicent following her at a leisurely pace. This is was strange; there wasn’t a reason for her to be out so late.

She kept her steps even, but she was on guard. Something didn’t feel right. The passageway ahead was lit by low candles and out of this gloom stepped Pansy. Her black eyes were dangerous.

“Why out so late, Mudblood?” she asked viciously.

“That’s really none of your concern,” she replied curtly. “Could you please let me through?” Hermione tried to step past Pansy, but she sidestepped her and blocked her path.

“You didn’t answer my question. Shouldn’t be up in your safe, cozy common room with your beloved Scarhead?” She gave a sarcastic laugh.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. “You will not talk about Harry like that.”

“What are you going to do? Take me and Millicent on by yourself?”

Pansy drew her wand and the sound of moving cloth made Hermione guess that Millicent had drawn hers too. She shifted her bag to reach for hers.

“I’m twice the witch you two would ever be, but I don’t want to fight. Let me pass, Pansy.” Slowly, she moved into a dueling position.

“Oh, I don’t think you’ll need to do that,” Pansy whispered.

Hermione felt the wind rush out of her as Millicent grabbed her neck from behind and lifted her off the ground. She kicked and flailed with her arms, but Millicent only tightened her grip. Pansy strolled to Hermione and tapped her wand against Hermione’s nose.

“What makes you think that you can talk to a real witch in that way? What makes you think you can talk to a real wizard the way you to talk to Draco? You’ve been a thorn in his and my side long enough. Me and Millicent, here, are going to show you how real witches handle things.” She grinned and asked in a flippant voice, “Right, Millicent?”

Millicent chuckled darkly.

Hermione was scared. Not only was she unable to do anything, the lack of air was making it impossible to think of a nonverbal she could against the two. Her vision was blurry again, not from the lack of sleep, but from the lack of air. She could barely see something zooming away from one of the dark corners. She couldn’t even call out for help.

“I’m going to start out lightly,” Pansy informed her. “Crucio!”

Pain beyond her bounds filled her. She cried out, but there was no sound. She was being choked physically and mentally.

HARRY! she thought desperately.

The pain left suddenly with a wave of Pansy’s wand. “You think that was hurt? Wait until I start thinking really nasty thoughts about you. But first, we should get rid of that voice. Wouldn’t want anyone to spoil the fun before it got started.” She flicked her wand and Hermione’s voice was no more. “Now that that’s done, where were we? Oh yes….” She cast another, the pain ten times as powerful. Pansy lifted the curse, only to cast it again after a few seconds peace. Then another and another.

Hermione was losing consciousness. How had Harry survived this? Her rapidly deteriorating vision caught Pansy preparing to send the pain through her once again, when a roar echoed in the hall.

“DON’T YOU DARE!”

Harry came charging down the hall, wand raised. A huge amount of magical power coming from him caused the candles to burst into flame. It created a terrifying picture with the candles erupting as Harry ran past them. He bellowed, “EXPELIARMUS!”

The wand rocketed from Pansy’s hand and clattered against the wall down the hall. Her face turned a deathly pale of white and she tried to run. Harry swished his wand, making her freeze in mid-step.

Harry pointed his wand at Millicent and hissed, “If you want to be able to eat anything solid for a year, I suggest you put her down.”

Millicent dropped Hermione to the floor. She landed on her side with a thud and Hermione felt something in her abdomen snap. Pain flooded throughout her body again.

Harry rushed to her side, not bothering to free Pansy from her immobilized state. “Hermione, are you all right?” Worry and anger were mixed in his voice. “Can you hear me?”

She wanted to tell him that that everything would be okay, but all she could manage was a whimper.

“I’ve got to get you to the hospital wing fast. I don’t know how to move you, I thought I heard something break when Millicent…” He looked up and gave a feral growl in Millicent’s direction. “Don’t you move!” He returned his attention to Hermione. “Please, stay awake. If you don’t, I’m not sure how long you’ll stay alive.” He cupped her face. He opened his mouth to say something, but sudden lights and shouting filled the corridor. Over the din, Hermione could faintly hear McGonagall on a rampage.

She was very sleepy. She needed to rest. Her eyes closed and Harry began to shout as well, calling for Madame Pomfrey. She didn’t need her; it was going to be all right now. She lost consciousness peacefully.

Harry had come for her.

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*dodges rocks and waits for reviews*

Disclaimer: Not mine, no money, blah, blah, blah, Harmony's great.

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Harry's voice drifted in Hermione's consciousness. She was unsure of what he was saying, but his even tones comforted her. At one point, the darkness she was in lifted and the blurry outline of Harry and Ron's bodies appeared. There were shouts of relief and surprise. Ron ran off to tell Madame Pomfrey. Harry's excited murmur almost brought a smile to Hermione's face, but a silent cry of despair filled her mind the blurry picture of Harry faded into darkness once again. The last thing she heard was Harry's strangled yell of, “Hermione!”

For a long time afterwards, she floated through the dark. Dull pain would flare in her ribcage from time to time, but she pushed on. She had to get out.

The sudden light made her wince. Sunlight hurts, she thought.

A gravelly rumble to her left asked gently, “Hermione?”

She turned her head and saw an exhausted Harry perched on the edge of her bed. The bags he had gained from sleepless during the war looked deeper than she had ever seen them. Despite his tired countenance, his eyes were alert as he asked, “Are you all right? Do you need anything at all?” He stood up. “I'm going to get Madame Pomfrey. She'll know how to care of you. I'll be right back.” He started to walk away, when Hermione stopped him by grabbing his hand. She weakly nodded no, and pantomimed drinking something. He understood immediately and rushed to the bedside table to fix her a glass of water.

Meanwhile, Hermione struggled to sit up. The pain that she had felt in her sleep intensified, causing her to croak in pain. She reached a sitting position with Harry's help. He offered her the water which she drank greedily as he resumed his sitting position on the bed.

“God, Hermione,” he said thickly, “you scared me. For a while, I thought…” He couldn't continue his sentence, and instead, rubbed his eyes. “Even right now, you could have been—

“But, I'm not,” she rasped firmly, “so don't talk like that.” She glanced around the room and asked, “Where's Ron?”

“He went to go get your work for today. We knew you wouldn't want to be behind.”

Confused, she inquired, “What's today?”

“Thursday. It's three in the afternoon.”

Surprise barely registered through her pain. To be unconscious for such a long time, it seemed that her body had not sorted it out. Harry saw her grimace and left quietly. When he returned, Madame Pomfrey was on his heels.

“Oh, Ms. Granger, I'm glad to see that you're awake.” Her usual neutral was filled with relief. She ran her wand over Hermione's ribs, explaining as she did so, “Two of your ribs were severely broken on your left side and another was cracked on your right. I'm only glad Mr. Potter found you so soon or Merlin knows what would have happened to you.” She stepped back from the bed and watched as the tip of her wand turned a faint white color. The result brought a smile to her face. “Completely fixed. You'll be sore for several days and nerves will be raw from what those,” she huffed and continued with difficulty, “ladies did to you.” Her ears turned a slight shade of pink.

“I didn't find Hermione, the Fat Friar did,” Harry corrected. “He saw her in the hall and rushed off to me. That was the first time I've seen a ghost out of breath.”

Hermione giggled at the mental image of a breathless ghost. The throbbing that accompanied her giggle made her regret ever finding his statement funny. Harry took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Faintly, Hermione realized that her sides didn't hurt as much when he was holding her hand.

Madame Pomfrey barely hid the pride in her voice. “I always knew our House ghost was the best out of all of them.” She shook the end of her wand and the light faded away. “Ms. Granger you'll have to say good-bye to Mr. Potter. You need to regain your strength before you return to class tomorrow.”

Harry protested for five minutes, even promising to give up his Saturday to clean the entire ward without magic.

“Although the offer is tempting, you have to leave. I've let you stay since last night and now that Ms. Granger's fine you can be assured that she'll recover. I may have been able to get you and Mr. Weasley a day from classes for results, but I can not let you have more time.” In an undertone, she added, “Minerva would throw me out of the castle for sure.”

Harry wavered for a moment and let out a sigh of defeat. He shot an apologetic look to Hermione, which she responded with a squeeze of his hand. She could tell that he was drained. Through all of Madame Pomfrey's tough words, she knew that the school nurse was actually doing him a favor.

He let go of her hand, and for some reason, Hermione's pain came back in full force. She held in her cry of pain as he stumbled to the door. She didn't want to him to worry.

The door closed behind him and Madame Pomfrey sighed, “I'm glad he's going to sleep. The boy has been up ever since you fell. I was worried that I'd have to get him his own bed when he fell out from fatigue.” She reached over to a small cart next to her and lifted a small vial of blue-green liquid. “This is the combination of a Dreamless Sleep and a Pain Reducing Potion. It will help you deal with the soreness of your ribs.”

Hermione took the vial. The taste of the potion made her want to gag, but it went down without any problems. She could feel the effects in a matter of seconds and lay back down to sleep.

Madame Pomfrey watched as her patient went settled down then walked to her office to give a short Floo call to Minerva. On the way, she heard a whisper from her patient that made her grin in a way that she hadn't for at least three years.

“I wish Harry was here.”

* * *

The next morning, Hermione stood on her feet unsteadily inside the hospital wing, completely dressed and ready for class. One of the boys had promised Madame Pomfrey that they'd walk with her to class. “For company only, not to mollycoddle you,” she had assured at Hermione's indignant sputtering.

She heard footsteps and on seeing a tall figure, she almost shouted, “Harry!” The sight of bright red hair corrected her, however, and a quick feeling of disappointment passed over her. It faded as the bright grin of Ron cheered her up. He gave a gentle hug.

“That is the second time that you've scared us to death. Don't you do that again,” he chided playfully.

“I plan on doing so,” she joked.

They started on the way to Charms in high spirits. When Hermione fell silent, Ron asked what was wrong.

“Why didn't we work out, Ron?”

He lifted his eyebrows and said, “Where did this come from?”

“I don't know. I was thinking about something.” Like why I can only think of Harry, she added in her thoughts.

He shrugged. “I can't tell you. One day about the three month mark, I just realized that I didn't love you. Not romantically, anyway. I still love you like a friend, but I think we passed the romantic thing a long time ago. Probably in sixth year when you threw those killer birds at me.”

She snorted at his grin. Leave it up to her blunt friend to describe exactly where things went wrong. “How's Luna?”

“She was really worried about you. I can understand why, Hungarian Dream Gnomes are really scary things.” At her incredulous look, he defended, “They steal dreams! How creepy is that!”

Hermione shook her head. Ron would never look at the world the same way again thanks to Luna, for better or for worse. Looking at his gleeful look when he discussed Luna and their weekend plans, she decided it was for the better.

When they walked into Charms, there was a rousing chorus of “For She's a Jolly Good Fellow,” led by Professor Flitwick, along with shouts of “We're glad you're okay!” Hermione blushed a deep scarlet when Ron joined in the loudest. She looked to Harry, who was also singing along. He even winked at her and proceeded to sing louder. Thoroughly embarrassed, she sat down in her seat in the back and took notes. She glanced at him and felt a deep sort of happiness. He had to be the one who did this, no mistake. And she didn't mind at all.

Wouldn't I usually be mad at this? What is wrong with me? she thought as the bell rang.

The rest of the day went well, as did the day after. On the third night since her release from the hospital, she sat in the common room tutoring Lucy and her friend, Wendy. In her Lucy's words, “Transfiguration is kicking our arse—back ends,” and they were receiving help from Hermione. Harry and Ron were playing wizard's chess and Harry was losing, as always.

Hermione taught Lucy and Wendy dutifully, but she watched Harry out of the corner of her eye. She had been doing this since yesterday, and she berated herself, I'm watching like a love-struck puppy! I need to stop this right away! She riveted her eyes on the two first-years before her and it worked for a few minutes. At Harry's growl of confusion, she shifted her gaze to them.

He made a wild move and sat back his chair, waiting for the imminent defeat.

Ron tilted his head and said, “Wow, that's good. I gotta think about this.” He gazed at the board.

Harry looked at Hermione and once noticing that she was watching, mouthed, “I have no idea what I'm doing.”

Hermione choked back a laugh. Harry grinned and later in life, Hermione would say to him, “That's when it happened.”

The logic that had been fractured over Harry since Christmas came together in an instant. All those moments when she had felt close to him, when he made her stop thinking with one of laughs all made sense. She tried to process what she was feeling, but it couldn't be done. Only one explanation worked.

She loved Harry.

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Ron looked around furtively at the corridor. No one was around.

He paced in front of a certain spot on the wall, chanting, “I need to go the meeting. I have to see the Boss.” A grating sound signaled his success in conjuring the doorway. He stopped his movement to find an iron door with a slit near the top.

“Oh, come on,” he groaned. “Not this again. Open up.”

When no movement behind the door was heard, he sighed and knocked out a complex rhythm. The small flap opened up to reveal blue eyes. “Say the password.”

“I'm the only bloke in Hogwarts with hair this red! You know who I am, let me in!” he hissed.

“Can't let you in without the password,” the person replied in a chipper voice.

Ron was unsure if he was supposed to be mad or amused. He sighed, “Elvis lives.”

The door opened slowly to a grinning Luna. “You're clear.”

“Why do we have to use some Muggle singer that's one of your favorites, but I've never heard of?” he moaned as he walked through the door.

“Because I'm the Boss. Now come on, you're late.”

He decided not to mention that he wouldn't have been late if she had just let him in. She keeps me on my toes, I guess, he thought with resignation.

The Room of Requirement had morphed itself into a planning room. Shelves, charts, and a large chalkboard took up the space. The only chairs available were gathered around a small, round table. Luna had been right to say that he was late; “Other Options” and the beginning of a bullet were on the board.

“Way to be on time, Ron,” Ginny said tartly from her seat next to Luna.

He took his seat, glaring at her the entire time. “At least I came last week unlike some people.”

“My apologizes if I'm trying to pass my Care of Magical Creatures class.”

“Here we go again,” muttered Lucy, who sat next to Ron.

Luna bustled to the front of the board, humming. “Let's save all sibling rivalry until after the meeting. We were on the subject of what else to do. Operation Harmony has hit a snag.”

“Those stupid cows from Slytherin…” Ginny left off and tried to regain her composure.

“Immediate expulsion was only the beginning for them. Daddy told me that the Wizengamot trial won't be for a few weeks and until then, they have to stay under house arrest,” Luna added cheerfully. “I only hope that they don't judge unfairly because of Pansy and Millicent's last names.” After the nods and murmurs of approval faded around the table, “Of course, they have caused the whole mission to come to a grinding halt.”

“I've got good news and bad news for this week,” Ron started. “I'll start with the good.” At Luna's nod to continue, he said triumphantly, “Hermione's acting funny.”

Silence greeted his announcement.

“That's it?” Ginny stared at him. “How is that good news?”

“Don't girls act funny when they like someone? Like the whole world stops when they see a guy they like, heart-stopping moments and stuff?”

“Er, no,” corrected Luna. “Where'd you learn this?”

“Read it in a book once,” he coughed as he flushed. “Anyway,” he said loudly, ignoring everyone's puzzled expressions, “she goes red every time Harry comes around. And then we he leaves to go do stuff, she always sighs. And then I caught her making a list about something. She covered it up before I could read it, but I saw Harry's name on it.”

“Well that is good news,” Luna beamed. Sitting down across from Ron, she reasoned, “Maybe the Late Night Yahoos stopped disrupting her thinking pattern. She does stay up late after all. But what's the bad news?”

Ron rubbed his temples. “Harry's avoiding me and Hermione.”

A collective groan went around the table.

“Again,” Lucy growled.

“Unfortunately. It started when he talked to me a few nights ago about Hermione and how she should be safe from stuff like what happened two weeks ago. And then he started on how I should be safe and then the next day, he didn't come to breakfast. He hasn't come down or talked to us or hung out since.”

“I'm going to hit him with a very heavy book,” Ginny proclaimed.

Luna leaned back in her chair. “This will certainly make it harder, but that's what we came together to do in the first place. We will meet adversity with cunning.” She stood at board and asked, “Any ideas?”

“We could try the `Push them together in the hallway and hope that they kiss' routine,” Lucy suggested.

“Idea's sounding better all the time,” Ginny agreed as Luna wrote it down.

“Or we could lock them in the Room and not let them out until they're together,” Ron said.

“How would we lock it? The Room is beyond anyone's control. It does what it likes,” Ginny reminded him. With Ron's defeated look, she comforted, “Cheer up, it was a good try.”

Luna chimed in, “She's right, you know. Think a little harder, Ronald.”

They continued in this way for an hour until a list of ideas took up the board.

“All right, we've done enough for tonight. Does anybody have anything else they'd like to add before we adjourn?” Luna asked.

“I have a question,” Ron yawned. “Is it true that—well, when girls see a guy they like their vision gets all blurry and all they see is him?”

The girls stared at him in shock. “Where are you getting this stuff from,” Ginny snorted.

“Read it in a book once.” His ears were the same color as his hair.

Luna and Lucy groaned, but Ginny started to tap her chin in thought. “A book, a book, a…” Realization flooded her, and she grinned. “Ron, could you tell me when you read this book?”

“Ah, um, can't remember. Nope, wiped from my mind. Drawing a blank.”

“Could it have been during the summer?”

“Perhaps,” he answered evasively. “What of it?”

“I was missing one over the summer. Looked for three days and then I found it on my nightstand. It hadn't been there before; I combed the entire house for it. Now, you wouldn't know where it was, would you?” she finished with a pout.

“N-no, not at all.” The quickening blush spreading across his face begged to differ.

“Wait, do you mean that book you told me was a Muggle romance book?” Luna interjected. “What was the brand you told me? Clown, Joker—

“Harlequin?” Lucy asked incredulously. “Those trashy novels with the half-naked men on the cover?”

Ron scratched at the table, his entire face red. The simultaneous laughter of all three girls caused him to blush even more. Ginny shouldn't have left it sitting on the kitchen table. It had just been for a laugh and then the book got so good, he couldn't put it down. Oh, was Ginny in for it once he could think of a way to get her back.

Luan wiped tears from her eyes. “I think—oh goodness, I can't breathe--the meeting's over. Next week,” a wave of giggles escaped her and she had to fight them down to resume, “at the same time.”

Ginny and Lucy left, snorting and laughing the whole while. Luna put one of the diagrams in a cubby, her shoulders shaking with mirth. Ron didn't say a word, even when Luna hugged his shoulders.

“Come along, Ronald. You have to walk me to my common room before curfew, remember?”

“I'm too embarrassed to walk,” Ron said meekly.

“Are you mad because I laughed?”

“A little. But hey, I'm the butt of the joke, right? Let's all laugh at bloody, stupid Ron.” He kicked a chair.

She sat in his lap and kissed his forehead. “No, you're not. I love the fact that you can make me laugh. I'm sorry I upset you. It's just that—well, it's best if you don't take what those books say to heart. Most of them are written by people who wouldn't understand if it they tried.”

“And you do?”

“Of course, I'm with you, aren't I?”

Despite his bad mood, Ron had to smile and gave her a peck on the lips. “Thanks, Luna.”

“If it makes you feel any better, my ears stop popping when I see you walk down the hall.”

“Ah—thanks?”

“You're welcome. Are you ready to go now?” She stood up and offered her hand.

He stood up and took her hand. “Yeah. I think I am.”

Once they were down the hall, Ron asked, “So I'm that sexy that your ears stop popping when you see me, huh?”

“Yes, but the bloke on the cover of Ginny's book is better.”

“Hey!” he whined over Luna's chuckle.

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Useless, cute, funny? Coffee, tea, or water? Review?

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A/N at the end of the chappie.

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The rain thudded against the windows of the Gryffindor common room. It was quieter than usual for a Monday. Groups huddled around tables to study and one such group was gathered at a table close to the stairs.

“My brain is melting, Hermione. Can we please stop?” Ron griped.

“Until you make a satisfactory grade on a Transfiguration test, no. Besides, we still have to finish our Potions work.”

“I'm almost done with that. Can't we just lay off for one night?”

“Go on,” she sighed. “It's not my fault if you fail.”

“You are the best friend a person can have, Hermione. Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he repeated. Not bothering to put away his quill and parchment, he quickly left the room.

“At least he's going to see someone who cares about him,” she sulked. She was alone as she had been for the past week. Ron spent most of his time with Luna and although he and Luna talked with her, she felt like the third wheel in all of their conversations. As for Harry, he had disappeared from public view. No matter how hard she tried, he always seemed to be one step away.

She shifted her papers to uncover her timetable of her time with Harry over the past few months. Scribbles and marked dates dominated the paper. The only definite marking on the paper was a large “LOVE” at the end of the line. It was getting increasingly difficult to find when exactly she had subconsciously fallen in love with him. That conclusion had been reached after several days of personal research through her memories. It all came to the same end of being in love with him and not being able to see him.

“I've got to do something to take my mind off of this. I need to go down to the dungeons anyway to find a few potion ingredients.” She left the common room with the chatter of students following her.

Giggly students crowded the halls which added to Hermione's loneliness. She felt like her twelve year-old self again, watching others have fun and friends while she was left to fend for herself. Schoolwork had been her coping mechanism as it was now.

If Ron or Harry were here, they'd drag me off to do something completely non-related to school, she thought sadly. Especially Harry.

“Look at me,” she sighed to herself. Her voice echoed off the narrow walls of the hall leading to the main dungeons. Not only did she miss Harry, the person she loved, she missed Harry, the friend. “I'm head-over-heels, aren't I?” she said wryly as she entered the room.

“Well, that depends. Do you just want to shag the boy or do you care about more than his crotch?”

Hermione looked up from the floor to find Malfoy grinning at her from behind Slughorn's desk. Scowling, she answered, “Why don't you keep studying?”

He raised his hands in defense. “Just trying to give advice, Granger. No need to get testy. What brings you to my little study corner?”

“Looking for ingredients for tomorrow's potion. I'm quite sure you've already done that?”

“No, actually. Was going to do that before you came in, but since you decided to volunteer,” he smirked.

“You can not be serious,” she huffed. He replied by leaning back in his chair, making her huff even louder. “You can do what you like, but I am not doing your work for you.”

“But it's your work too.”

Grudgingly, she saw that he had a point, but she refused to give in. She stood near the door for fifteen minutes with her arms crossed.

Pushing himself out of his chair, Malfoy grunted, “Fine, but only because we'll be here all night and I need my beauty rest.” He went to the cabinet and set things aside. “So,” he said, “how are you and Potter coming along?”

Her face flushed with anger. “You have no right to ask,” she said coldly. “You're the one who did this to him.”

“Turned him into a love sick puppy? I suppose so.”

Hermione resisted the urge to push him into the cabinet. “Your sarcasm is not putting you in a better light.”

Malfoy's chuckle echoed off the metal insides of the cabinet. “Do I detect a hint of anger?”

“What do you think?” she snapped.

“Temper, temper. Wouldn't want Potter to think that his girlfriend had more anger issues than he did.” He backed out of the file cabinet and straightened up. “You know that he hates to be outdone,” he grinned.

“I am not his girlfriend!” she sputtered through her anger.

“You'd like to be. Don't deny it either; that panicked look on your face says it all.” He walked back to his previous seat with an air of satisfaction. “You finally broke.”

I have got to learn how to handle embarrassment better, she thought.

“My mistake in reality.”

“What do you mean?”

“I thought he'd go for the girl Weasley. That was his ex-girlfriend, right? It was going to be a simple joke; he'd embarrass her for a little bit, they'd snog within the day, the end.” He propped his feet on the desk. “Rather shocked me when he went for you. I did see the Great Hall thing, who didn't, but I thought it was an accident that would wear off. Guess I was wrong.”

Hermione sat down hard in the chair nearest her. It had all been a misunderstanding. Malfoy had counted on Ginny to capture Harry's attention. But Harry loved you, a proud sounding voice reminded her.

The scratching noise of Malfoy's quill matched his snort. “Remarkable. You're speechless.”

“Shut it, Malfoy,” she said absently.

He grinned. “Winding you up is the most fun I'll ever have.” Thoughtfully, he added, “That thing with Pansy and Millicent didn't involve me. I knew they were crazy, but not that crazy.”

“How is Pansy?” she asked with a fake smile.

“Pissed.”

Her fake smile turned into a real one. “Good.”

“Somebody's vengeful.”

“She almost killed me! Wouldn't you be a bit vengeful too?”

Malfoy whistled innocently. Hermione snorted and added, “You couldn't let me die anyway since you have a debt to pay.”

He grimaced. “It's not like I can't forget that one of my sworn enemies kept my arse out of the fire during that last battle. Why remind me?”

“Just to keep it fresh in your mind.” She stood up and folded her arms.

“Like I would want you dead,” he chuckled as he walked from behind the desk towards her. He stopped in front of her and folded his arms as well. “Who else would I pick on?”

“Me. Now back away from Hermione.”

They both turned to find a very irritated Harry standing in the doorway. “Potter, glad you could make it!” Malfoy said breezily, “I--

“Was just leaving.”

Malfoy began to stalk towards Harry, but Hermione stepped between them. “Remember, Malfoy.”

He glowered. Thank goodness for leverage, Hermione thought as he stalked to the door. He turned in the doorway and said drolly, “You should put a leash on the guard dog, Granger.” With that, Malfoy left.

Hermione heaved a relieved sigh. “That could have been worse.”

“Yeah,” Harry growled, “he could have attacked you.”

She faced him to find his eyebrows furrowed with anger. “You know he can't. A wizard that breaks a life debt is cursed forever,” she countered.

“I don't care. What if he decided to take the risk?”

“Well, I've getting along fine by myself for the past week,” she answered irritably. His hurt look made her regret snapping at him. “Harry, I'm sorry.”

“No, it's alright. I've got to go check on Hedwig.” He began to leave.

“Let me come with you.”

“Some of the owls get skittish when there's more than one person and….” He stopped, leaving dead silence.

She watched helplessly. He had his back turned to her, but she knew from the tone of his voice that he was lying. She reached for his arm, wishing that with her touch whatever burden that weighed him down would disappear. She wanted—no—needed to comfort him.

“Harry,” she said softly, “please don't shut me out again. Please.

After a few minutes, he said, “If we leave soon enough, we can get there after the nervous owls have left. They go pretty early.”

Hermione smiled. “Let's go.”

* * *

Dank and musty smells came from the Owlery in waves, but Hermione noticed that Harry didn't to mind. He avoided owl droppings on the floor with ease. By the time she had reached him near the window, he had already called down Hedwig and was stroking her feathers.

“Hey there, girl. Brought you some treats,” he greeted. He pulled them from his pocket and Hedwig munched on them slowly. Her yellow eyes showed concern for her master.

Must be a female intuition, Hermione thought. She watched Harry with the same wary look as Hedwig while she stroked the owl's feathers.

“It's been a while since you've seen her,” Harry commented.

“She's a very solitary bird. Bit like you.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled humorlessly.

“Is this where've you been all this week?” she hesitantly asked.

“Here and other places. Visiting Hagrid, flying around the pitch, seeing Dobby. My usual brooding habits.”

“But how have you been able to avoid me and Ron?”

“I've basically memorized the passages on the map Map. I think I may have even found some new ones.”

“Harry,” she scolded.

“Well, what do you expect? I am a Marauder's son.” At Hermione's sigh, he smiled briefly before it faded into its former melancholy look. “They've started again.”

She knew that he was talking about his nightmares of Voldemort and Harry's ordeal during that final fight. “When?”

“Two weeks ago. They're worse than before. And the words are coming back.” He shuddered. “I want to forget, Hermione.”

Hedwig gave Harry a comforting nip on the finger and flew out of the window to hunt. He followed his bird, but leaned against the open-air windowsill instead of flying away. Hermione went to his side. This was her fault. It was her attack that had triggered his nightmares to rise from his subconscious.

“To hear him speak Parseltounge in breathy way of his—even the Death Eaters around him were terrified. It was worse for me. The curses on my friends, you….” He took several deep breaths of fresh air.

She rested her head on his shoulder and he leaned his head on hers. They didn't need words to express sorrow and thanks anymore. It was understood.

“It's almost curfew,” Hermione whispered.

Harry nodded and they left the soft moonlight and quiet hoots.

* * *

The walk back was a silent affair. Every time she sneaked a glance at Harry, he was always looking into the distance, purposely not meeting her gaze. When she looked away, she knew he was watching every move she made. The invisible wall between them was driving her crazy.

I'm tired of being shut out. I'm tired of knowing I love him and not doing anything about it. This must be how he felt all this time, she thought. How he did it, I'll never know. But I'm tired of the silence.

“Harry, talk to me.”

“About—

“You know what. We've been doing this dance for months. Shouldn't we do something about it?”

He stopped walking, but didn't look at her. “What could we have to say?” he asked flatly.

“I love you.”

His reaction was what she wanted. He looked at her with surprise widened eyes.

“I love you, Harry. And now, we can talk.” Hermione watched him for any sign of emotion. “Well?”

“We can't do this.”

“Why not?” Her voice shook. “You weren't like this until a few days after my attack! What happened?”

“Nothing. Let me through.”

“Not until you say something. Are you telling me that everything has been a lie?”

“It was the spell. That's all.” He stared at the floor.

“You're not telling the truth. The spell hasn't been affecting your thinking for a while now. It's only bolstering your confidence around me. Most of it are your emotions and you know it.”

He walked away without looking at her.

She shouted at his back, “So what's keeping you back? Are you afraid of what you're feeling?”

Harry's heavy footsteps stopped. “No,” he said in a low voice.

Her voice broke. “Do you think I'm a liability?”

He whirled around to face her and yelled, “I'm a liability to you! Every time we get close, something happens!” He counted on his fingers. “In second year you got Petrified, in fifth year you almost died because we went into a trap that you told me not to go into, and this year you fought in the Battle and then you escape that to get hurt by Pansy and Millicent!” His heavy breathing failed to hide the anguish in his voice. “You get hurt. I can't see that again. I just can't.”

Hermione stepped forward and hugged him tightly. His strong grip around her waist reminded her of how he clung to her after his nightmare at Christmas.

“You don't have to be scared for me,” she said softly. “I chose this. I chose to be your friend, to stay by you when things got rough. All those moments you said are my doing. Not yours. Besides, you need to let your people-saving thing worry over more important things than me.”

“No one will ever be as important as you.” He cupped her face with his hand.

Hermione didn't register leaning into his touch until after the fact. The funny thing was that she didn't care. “Well, put me near the end of your list then. I'll watch out for myself. Trust me.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“It is. All you have to do is trust me.”

“But—

“No buts. Trust.”

Harry laid his chin on top of her head. “I'll try for you, Hermione.”

Is it possible to fall deeper in love with a person? she wondered. Because I just have.

Her sigh of contentment caused Harry to move. “Are you okay?”

What happened next, she always blamed on adrenaline.

Hermione leaned forward and kissed him.

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I know; my first time back in a month or two and I leave you with a cliffe. Pelt me with rocks again if you wish. Serious lack of time, sleep, and inspiration has kept me from continuing, but I hope that was the last time. If you guys are still reading, thanks for sticking around and please review! Or I'll…I'll…I'll cry. Also, MUCHO AMO to my beta-ish, Miss Mady!

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A/N at the end of the chapter.

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Once their lips met, Hermione realized that she her books had lied to her. There were no fireworks or angel choirs or random applause of bystanders. But the feeling of Harry overwhelmed her. His scent, his feel, his taste, all of him. She quickly understood that she could lose herself in Harry if she wasn't careful and she wasn't all too sure if she wanted to be careful. He pulled away when it was obvious that neither of them could breathe. She leaned back and gasped at the sight before her.

He was glowing.

Bright golden light blinded her and Harry, who jerked away. The panic he felt was reflected in his eyes. “What in the bloody hell?” he hissed.

She couldn't admonish him on his language since it was the exact same thing she was thinking. It took a few seconds for her to regain her mental footing. She had read of this somewhere, but she couldn't remember. Where? Suddenly, she exclaimed, “So You Want To Be In Love!”

“What?”

“That's the book I read this in! Don't worry, Harry, it'll be over in just—”

The light faded away as quickly as it came.

“A moment,” she finished. “Wow, they called it to the second.”

“Called what? Who's `they'? And what just happened?” he asked in rapid succession.

“The writers of So You Want To Be In Love. `If the person is ever lucky enough to have the spell broken, a golden glow will flash and disappear within ten seconds,'” she quoted. The gravity of the situation hit her. The spell was gone. Harry was no longer under its effects and Hermione could now be forgotten in the blink of an eye. She could be in love with someone who might not care anymore.

His eyes grew wide. “So then, it's done?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “It's done.” Was that hope in his voice?

“Wow.” He stepped away from Hermione and scratched the back of his head. “Wow,” he breathed.

Panic set in. He didn't want to be a part of this. And to be fair, he had never had a real say in “this.” Not a say that had been influenced by the spell anyway. “Harry, what,” goodness this was frightening, “do you want?”

He ran both hands through his hair. “This is unexpected, isn't it? Certainly not in the middle of the hall right before curfew. I always imagined this happening on an island or on the Quidditch pitch under the starts; somewhere romantic where I could declare my undying love and affection.” He gave a nervous laugh.

“You seem to have an active imagination,” Hermione teased.

Harry was about to speak when the hall seemed to fill with people instantly. She silently cursed the “stragglers” as the seventh years called them. Her and Harry shared a long look and she sighed. “To the common room?”

“I think so,” he replied. They were approaching a suit of armor when Harry pulled her out of the crowd. He stood next to it and tried to appear as if he was relaxing. She shot him a confused glance, but he grinned, “You'll see.” He looked down the hall both ways after the hall had cleared out. “Coast's clear.” He knocked on the armor five times and to her surprise, it moved to the right to reveal a small passage. He looked back at her. “This is one I found. It would get us to the common room a whole lot faster than taking the stairs. Are you willing to go with me?”

What kind of silly question is that? she thought. At her nod, he led the way into the passage. It was cramped and maybe it was her imagination, but it was getting smaller all the while. She would have attributed it a trick of the light if there was any. As soon as they had gone in, the former knight had returned to his post, cutting off the light from outside. Harry lit his wand and they continued on their way.

“This reminds me of when we went to go save Ron from Sirius,” Hermione said quietly.

“Yeah. We always end up together at the end of things,” he mused.

“First year, third year, fifth year…what a weird pattern.”

“You know, when you got hit at the Department of Mysteries, I thought you were dead. I've never been that scared in my entire life.”

She was glad that he hadn't turned around to see her deep blush. Haven't done that for a while. And I'm glad to have it back.

Both were lost in their thoughts from that point. She only knew that they were at the end of the tunnel when the sudden light made her wince.

“It takes some getting used to.” He looked at his watch. “Three minutes until curfew.”

“That was faster. I'll need to remember that one.” The Fat Lady was only a few meters away, but the opening of the passageway was out of her range of sight. She walked towards her.

“Wait.”

She turned to see Harry scratching the back of his head again.

“I want—I want to think about this. So that I won't cheat you.” He scuffed at the floor with his shoe. “Tomorrow. I promise.”

Hermione realized that he wasn't going to say things off the top of his head anymore. No more completely open Harry. But she would meet him halfway. “Okay.”

Gratefully, he kissed her on the cheek and walked away with his hands in his robe pockets, leaving Hermione alone and just a little brokenhearted.

She came down the next morning feeling a bit groggy. It had been a night of little sleep and vivid dreams involving floating mistletoe and shouts of “Crucio!” Pavarti had even pulled her aside before she went down to breakfast if everything was alright. “You woke up so many times, I was worried that you were sick or something like that,” she said.

At breakfast, there was no Harry or Ron. It confused her to say the least. Ron never missed a chance to eat. Never. She asked Neville if he had seen either of them, but he shrugged his shoulders. Both of them were missing at Potions also. She was beginning to get worried, but when she reached Charms, they were there, Ron looking determined and Harry looking uncomfortable. Her breakfast churned in her stomach. That look could mean anything. She sat in her usual desk between them.

“Morning, Hermione,” Ron said in a business-like tone.

“Morning,” Harry mumbled.

She didn't trust opening her mouth so she nodded at them instead. The rest of class went by uneventfully, even though Hermione kept expecting Harry to jump up and scream, “I really don't want you so leave me alone!” When class ended, she stopped to talk to Terry Boot on the fast approaching N.E.W.T.S. A backwards glance found Ron speaking in hushed tones and gesticulating wildly to Harry, knocking over small Professor Flitwick in the process. Ron apologized profusely while Harry coughed into his hand to hide his smile. He looked up at her and for a moment, it seemed as if he was going to walk over.

“Hermione? Are you still there?” Terry waved a hand in front of her eyes.

“I'm sorry, what were you saying?” she asked as she forced herself to pay attention.

“I was just telling you that you'll do fine when test time comes around, but you seem distracted,” he said worriedly. “Are you feeling all right?”

“Never better. I'm thinking about a few things, that's all.”

He smiled and laughed, “That's okay. I have to be getting on to class anyway. I'll see you later!” He waved at her over his shoulder.

“Way to keep your wits about you,” she grumbled to herself. “Now everyone is going to think I'm mental the entire day.” She readjusted her bag and began to walk out of the door. A humongous weight slammed into her back causing her to stumble. Before she could fall, a pair of arms grabbed her around the waist and held her steady. She would know that grip from anywhere.

“Ron!” Harry shouted. “What are you playing at? You could have knocked both of us over!”

“Better than you avoiding the situation.” He glided in front of them. “You two are going to talk.” He stopped their stuttering with an upheld hand. “You're going to talk and that's the end of it. I'll be right outside that door and if either of you come out without giving me a thumbs up, you're going to wish you could snog Malfoy.”

“I think I just threw up a little in my mouth,” Hermione teased. She felt Harry nod his head in agreement.

“I'm right outside.” He made a large show of walking out and settling against the wall.

“We have a scary friend,” Harry sighed.

“Yeah,” she said a bit breathily. It was getting rather hard to concentrate with his breath tickling her ear.

“Oh!” He let go of her and she turned to find him standing stiffly with his arms by his side. He cleared his throat. “Well, I guess you know what we need to talk about, huh?”

Her legs felt like someone had tied rocks to them. Here it was. “Yeah.”

He cleared his throat again. “Hermione, I—what I mean to say is—you see….” He snorted. “Forget it.”

Before she could open her mouth to say “What do you mean,” Harry kissed her. And she knew exactly what this meant. Yes, yes, YES!

He pulled away with a sheepish grin on his face. “You know I'm not the guy for words.”

“I really don't mind at this point,” she said dreamily.

“The common room, then?” She nodded and he flashed a grin that could have lit up the Great Hall. “Great!” There was a definite spring in his step as he walked out the door.

She sat on the edge of a nearby desk and smiled. This could easily be categorized as the second best day she of her life. She was snapped out of her thoughts by Professor Flitwick.

“Ms. Granger?” he asked amusedly.

“Hmmm?”

“Don't you have something to do?”

“None that I can recall.”

Flitwick chuckled. “Class, Ms. Granger. You have class.”

“Class where?”

“On the other side of the castle. Advanced Muggle Studies. Remember, Ms. Granger?”

There wasn't anything else she needed to do today. Just go meet Harry in the common room after lunch which was right after…. “Oh, goodness, I have class!” She almost knocked the desk she was sitting on in her rush to get out the door.

Flitwick chuckled again. “Poppy is going to be tickled pink.”

* * *

Hermione toyed with her necklace in the common room. Waiting for Harry had never been so nerve-wracking. What would happen now? Would their friendship stay the same? Would he still care in a few weeks? A few months? A few years? Would this relationship go that far? What if…?

“Hey.”

She jumped in surprise. There was Harry sitting on the opposite side of the couch. Her mouth went dry. What do I say? “Hi,” she squeaked.

Oh, good going, Hermione! she berated herself. She fumbled with her necklace. “Where were you today?”

“Ron was telling me,” he launched into an impression, “why I should stop being so bloody stupid because you already knew how I felt.” He grinned, “And I was being bloody stupid.”

“No, not really.” Fighting down the butterflies in her stomach, she slid down the length of the couch and leaned against him. “At least you didn't run up to me in the hall and proclaim your love for me,” she joked.

“That was Plan B if I couldn't think of anything else. Always go for the romance movie effect.” He laughed at her groan. “It certainly would have made Ron leave me alone. Speaking of Ron, where is he? He told me he'd be down from the library in a few minutes.” He looked around the room as if expecting for Ron to appear from one of the corners.

“I haven't seen him. If he was coming from the library, he should have been here by now.” They exchanged questioning looks.

Harry sighed, “Oh, well. He probably saw Luna in the Great Hall and stopped to sit with her.”

“Did she tell you about Hungarian Dream Gnomes?”

“What?”

Hermione began to explain exactly what they were and watched as Harry's expression went from confusion to incredulity to amusement. In the back of her mind, she noted that this was going to be a work in progress. Things might be perfect now, but everyone had their trials and tribulations to go through. There would disagreements, arguments, times where each of them might need space. It would take effort on both of their parts to make this work.

Looking at the light in Harry's eyes made her want to try harder than ever.

* * *

Down in the Great Hall, a group of people raised their glasses of pumpkin juice in a toast. To the outsider, a single Ravenclaw standing in front of three Gryffindors would have been odd, but they wouldn't have cared at all.

“To a job well done,” Luna said proudly.

Cheers of agreement and the clink of glass filled their small corner.

---------------------------------

Well, that's the end folks. I have a few thanks to say:

Miss Mady for listening to me whine and being one of the BEST PEOPLE EVAR. Because caps make things true; pstibbons for making me think about my story farther than before. I appreciate your questions and comments; Madam_05 for giving me support and pushing me to post on FF.net, fenriswolf for having me figure out where in the heck this was going to go in the first place. Without you, most of this would not be possible.

And finally, all of you guys! It may not seem that I'm paying attention, but I've read every single review. I appreciate you all so much. Thank you for reading!

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