A/N: First of all, thank you for all the reviews last chapter, you guys are great. Now I'd like to apologize for the lengthy delay in this post. I'm not one of those authors who will tell you real life got in the way, I'll let everyone know what's been going on. I ended up scrapping all of what I had written for the original chapter four and had to rewrite. Also this was my first and last semester as an Architecture major. I've spent far too many hours in the prison they call the architecture and planning building. That being said, my muse has been thoroughly sucked dry.
This week is Spring Break for me and for the next few days I'll be basically bed-ridden after having wisdom teeth pulled so I hope to put a dent into chapter five.
Also, if this chapter still refuses to change font styles and sizes I am officially requesting some help there, I just can't figure it out.
Beta offers are welcome as well.
Thanks again,
Yuke15
Disclaimer: I own none of this. I'm making no money from anything on this page. Any similarities in this story to other authors' stories are purely coincidental unless otherwise stated. These characters belong to JK Rowling; I'm just playing with them.
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Someday
"See, I told you," Harry said as Ron and Ginny entered Fred and George's. "Now before we get our robes, I think I promised you something to eat."
"I think I'll take a rain check, Harry, if that's alright. I'm not very hungry. We did have a big breakfast," Hermione explained.
"No, it's no problem," for a moment Hermione thought he sounded a little disappointed, but the notion was quickly dismissed. "Is there anything else that you need before we head to Madam Malkin's?"
"Um… no, I don't think so."
"Alright, then let's do this," Harry stated.
Slowly, Harry and Hermione moved toward the robes shop, both hesitant to reenter the currently tense atmosphere with the Weasleys. The luncheon fight with Mrs. Weasley was weighing heavily on Harry's mind as he fully realized what he had done. Granted, the reason for his outburst was a justified one, in his mind, but losing his temper so quickly wasn't going to serve him well in the long run. He knew, now, that it was impossible to think clearly while in a towering rage. He must master his temper.
In far too short a time, they were entering the robes shop, and Mrs. Weasley was calling Harry over, "Harry, dear, may I have a word?"
"Now, Harry, about this morning-"
"I'm not apologizing," Harry said defensively.
"Nor do you have to. I'm apologizing. I was wrong to jump to conclusions-"
"You should be apologizing to Hermione, not me," Harry cut in again.
"I will, Harry, I will. But, next time could you please not yell at least, just tell me, alright? I do have to keep up appearances to my own children; I can't be bossed around all the time."
"I won't yell if you don't," Harry stated. Mrs. Weasley bristled, but said nothing and directed Harry toward an assistant helping with robes. Harry watched as Mrs. Weasley made her way toward Hermione through the crowded shop. He smiled.
"Mr. Potter, I presume?" Harry turned toward the assistant addressing him.
"Yes Ma'am," Harry replied politely. He watched as she looked him up and down.
"Well… I don't think there is much this shop can do to best the robes you have on. You can go into the back and have a seat with the rest who have finished with their fittings.
Harry did was he was asked to, and sat waiting for Hermione to finish being fitted. It seemed the first to be fitted were all were those who were standing in the wedding, of which, Harry only new Fleur's sister, Gabrielle, and she was as shy as Ginny ever was. He had said hello, but received only a blush and giggle in response. "Girls," Harry muttered.
Far quicker than Harry could've hoped, Hermione entered the post-fitted sitting room. "That was fast," Harry observed aloud.
"Well I came prepared. I made I knew my measurements and what style of dress I wanted to get," Hermione told him. "How did you get done so quickly?"
"They told me that this set of robes was the best I could do," Harry answered. "Now I wish I had brought something to do; this is unbelievably boring."
"You could always read with me," Hermione suggested, while fishing a tiny book out the pockets of her jeans beneath her robes.
"Wait, wait, wait. Let me guess, Hogwarts: A History, right?" He asked, before returning the book to its original size with a wave of his hand.
"Yes, it is. Is that going to be a problem?" Hermione asked.
"Not in the slightest," Harry answered without the slightest hesitation.
Hermione moved her chair closer to his and Harry put his arm along the back of hers as she settled the book between them. "Comfortable," she asked. He nodded as he inhaled deeply taking in the pleasant mix of vintage parchment and the sweet vanilla of Hermione's hair. 'It's nice to be able to do these sorts of thing with,' Harry thought after a few minutes. 'Almost makes reading fun.'
The book, as it turned out, wasn't a horrible read. He found it rather interesting, in fact. 'Not interesting enough for a second reading,' he thought. But then again, the only books worth reading more than once were Quidditch ones.
"What the hell is going on here?" Harry heard after fifteen minutes. Both Harry and Hermione looked up to find Ron, standing in the doorway, looking on in disbelief, not anger.
"Reading," Harry grunted, finding his place again.
"Is that…" Ron began.
"Hogwarts: A History, yes it is," Hermione said. To Harry, she sounded quite smug about the whole situation.
"What are they doing?" If Ron hadn't been angry at what he found, Ginny certainly was.
"Reading," Ron repeated absently, "Hogwarts: a History," he finished incredulously.
"Don't you think that they're a little too… close?" Ginny practically snarled at Ron.
Hermione sighed, exasperated. "This is neither the time, nor the place Ginny," she stated. Ginny looked murderous, but the glare she received from Harry silenced any retort Ginny may have had. And, in response, Ginny stomped from the room in a huff.
"You are going to have to talk to her eventually, Harry," Hermione told him. "I'm getting tired of having to deal with her tantrums." Harry only nodded in response.
Ron, who had suddenly grasped what Ginny was getting at, stalked to the furthest seat from the pair, and proceeded to sulk for the rest of the afternoon, looking over at every few minutes.
They sat reading for nearly three more hours before Mrs. Weasley came to collect them for dinner at the Leaky Cauldron. Mrs. Weasley obviously arranged for the twins to meet them, as they were sitting in a large booth awaiting the rest.
Harry frowned when Ron quickly slipped into the seat next to Hermione, leaving only the seat next to Ginny. When he sat, Ginny immediately shifted closer despite her sour mood. He tried to make himself as small as possible, but with the limited space in the booth, failed considerably.
Hermione grimaced slightly as she felt Ron do the same as Ginny, and then nonchalantly placed his arm around her. "Stop it, Ron," she hissed and shrugged his arm away.
"What?" Ron asked.
"You have got to be kidding me," She watched him in disbelief.
"So now I can't put my arm around my girl?" Ron asked.
"You're an idiot, Ron," She snarled. "I am not nor have I ever been your girl. I have, however, been perfectly clear about the entire situation. Now, if you would be so kind, remove your arm from me before I remove it from you."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Harry, I need to talk to you," Ron said a moment after they flooed back to Grimmauld Pla ce.
Harry looked quizzically at Hermione, receiving a shrug, before responding, "Alright then. Hermione, I'll meet you in the library in my room. We've got a lot of research to do, and the books there looked relevant."
"Yeah, okay," Hermione responded, heading up to the library as Ron lead Harry to the drawing room.
Ron closed the drawing room door and silenced the room. "What's up, Ron?"
"What do you think you're doing, Harry?" Ron demanded.
Harry looked up at Ron while sitting down on the couch. "Sitting down?"
"First you're trying to steal Hermione from me and now you're flaunting your money all over the place. Don't think I didn't notice the new robes you bought for the two of you before you got the Madam Malkin's." Ron's ears now a bright, scarlet red.
"Firstly, I've never, nor will I ever, flaunt my money. And these robes were a gift from your brothers. Secondly, Hermione would have to have been yours in the first place, as if she was some possession, and I am most certainly would not trying to steal her. And you'd be missing your bits if she ever hears you say something like that about her."
"Don't give me that bullshit, Harry. You don't think everyone can see the way you look at her, or how she looks at you, give me a break," the flush covering more of his face now.
"There's nothing going on, Ron. I'm telling you the truth," Harry told him, looking him square in the eye.
"I don't know what's worse: the betrayal or that you keep lying to me when it's painfully obvious what the truth is. After all we've been through, you've stolen the one thing I ever really wanted," the anger suddenly gone from Ron's voice.
"I'm not lying to you, it's the truth. I can't help it if you don't believe me, I'm sorry." Harry stood and moved to the door, but Ron spoke again and it halted Harry in his tracks.
"You don't deserve to be my friend, Harry, neither of you do," Ron said, sounding more sad, now, than anything else.
"You know what?" Harry growled, straining to keep from shouting. He was truly angry now. "The only person not deserving of a friendship is you. But for some reason Hermione still thinks you deserve it. It amazes me how forgiving she is of you after all the shit you put her through. You're supposed to be her friend, but you don't act like it.
"You try to blame everything, and everybody else for what you don't have. You don't have any money, you won't get a job to help out at home or for a few pocket Galleons; I get it, it's my fault because I was left money by my dead parents and their dead best friend. You don't have a girlfriend, but you're an asshole to the girls you have an opportunity with; I get it, my fault again because I give Hermione the respect and treatment she deserves. You're just pathetic. How about you accept some responsibility for yourself?" Ron had no response. Harry slammed the door on the way out and joined Hermione for what looked to be long night of horcrux research in the Master Bedroom's library.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Harry paused at the door, leaning against the frame. He watched, silently, as Hermione sat curled up on the couch in front of a comfortable fire, large tome in her lap, and roll of parchment on the couch arm waiting for notes to be taken. She looked so… so… so like the Hermione of old. It had been so long since he had seen her this way, and it truly saddened him. What ever had happened last year between the three of them, Hermione had been the most noticeably affected.
To see Hermione doing what she did best, to see her in her element, and free of the stress and tension of conflicts of the previous year, warmed his heart. Just by watching her, no one would ever guess she was researching the most evil creation any wizard had come up with. The glow of the fire reflecting softly off her now less frizzy hair gave Hermione an angelic aura around her. Harry found this, too, also warmed his heart.
"You know, it isn't polite to stare," Hermione addressed him, not once turning to see him standing silently.
"I was just thinking," Harry told her, sitting next to her on the couch.
"Bout what?" Hermione asked, still not looking up from her book.
"Just about how good it feels to have back the Hermione that's my best friend. And that your hair is different," He added in afterthought.
"Well thank you for noticing, Harry."
"Are you changing it? With a charm or something?"
"I'm using a different shampoo. Why?" She asked, frowning.
"It's nothing, really," he said, he could tell she didn't believe him just by the look in her eyes.
"You know I don't fall for that, now what is it?"
"I just wanted to know if you were changing your hair with magic," Harry lied. Again, Hermione knew and he saw hurt flash through her eyes, causing him to cave.
"Alright," he said firmer than he had meant and she started. "Sorry," he said sheepishly, before continuing hesitantly. "I just… What I meant was… I er liked… I liked your hair the way it was before, and I don't think you needed to change it."
"How, in Merlin's name, could you like that bird's nest?" She asked honestly.
Harry squirmed a bit, suddenly feeling an extra pressure on his answer, like his answer would have some underlying meaning. He panicked, this felt like the exam he hadn't studied for. "Well, erm, your hair was so you, quintessential Hermione. And it wasn't that bad… most days," she giggled at this. 'Giggling is a good sign, right?'
"That's very sweet of you, Harry. But it really was that bad. Out of control really, I had to do something," She said matter-of-factly, and with a hint of a blush to her cheeks.
"So what did Ron want?" Harry noted the quick subject change.
"Well, first off, he accused me of trying to steal you. Then, he said I was flaunting my money buying you these new robes," Harry said, not angry any longer about this portion of their fight. "Worst off he said we weren't deserving of his friendship. I was so angry, so enraged. I said some things I never thought I would say to him," Harry said sadly. Gone was giggling, blushing Hermione, now the brow-furrowed, bottom-lip-between-her-teeth, worried-beyond-belief Hermione dominated the situation. "But he said things I never thought he'd say either."
"What if he never comes around, if he always thinks that's really what happened?"
"I don' know, Mione, I don't know."
Harry stared into to the fire after making his last statement, thinking of the possibility that his and Ron's once solid friendship was now over for good. After a few more minutes, he felt Hermione's eyes finally leave him and, he assumed, returned to whichever book she was searching. Harry was unsure of how long he sat unmoving, the duration marked only by the periodic sounds of Hermione closing books and opening others in her attempts to find relative Horcrux information. He noticed absently that the snaps of the books closing became louder and sharper.
"You would think there would be some mention of Horcruxes in this house considering how evil the Blacks were!" Hermione exclaimed. Her eyes suddenly went wide when she realized what she had said. "I'm sorry, Harry, I meant most of the Blacks were evil. I would never say anything like that about Sirius."
"It's alright, Hermione," Harry held up a hand to stop her apologizing. "I know you wouldn't say anything like that on purpose."
"I'm just frustrated, that's all," she told him. "I mean, where else but here could we find any real information about Horcruxes?"
"Malfoy Manor?" Harry offered only half jokingly.
"Hermione, could we talk to you for a moment?" a deep voice sounded from the open doorway after a quick knock. Two middle-aged figures, who Harry knew to be Hermione's parents, stood at the door looking grief-stricken.
"What is it? What's happened?" Hermione worried while gesturing her parents into the room.
"We want to apologize to you, for not believing how serious you were, sweetheart," Mrs. Granger said solemnly.
Hermione immediately looked relieved, but relief quickly turned to confusion when she thought more on her mother's statement. "Wait… what are you talking about?"
"We didn't believe we were in all that much danger. We hadn't really wanted to leave our home. It's truly sunk in now how dire the situation is," Mrs. Granger exhaled slowly, trying to keep her emotions in check.
"We can only hope the worst you experience is a failed raid of a house," Hermione said with an air of not really believing what she was saying. "Well, at least now we can go back and make sure we've got all of our valuables."
Mrs. Granger's eyes welled and Mr. Granger's were trained on the floor when he spoke, his voice low and defeated, "There is nothing left. They destroyed everything. The Order told us they searched the house and took anything they considered valuable before torching the entire property. We can never go back to our home."
"Everything?" Hermione asked, her eyes filling with tears. Her mother nodded, tears now streaming.
Harry could sympathize with the way Hermione and her family were feeling. He, too, would start to feel overwhelmed when he thought on Godric's Hollow for too long, and he had never really known the place, it was never his home.
His heart broke for Hermione as he heard her begin to sob. He could only guess how much more this hurt her; this was her childhood, her entire life, whereas he had never known a proper home.
Harry was stunned to find Hermione sobbing into his chest with her arms wrapped tightly around him. He hesitated, glancing at her confused parents. He could understand their confusion, at least, this was a family tragedy, it made no sense to them for Hermione to turn to Harry for comfort.
His hesitation lasted for only a moment before his instincts took over and his attention returned to his best
friend. Harry gently turned and pulled Hermione closer to him so she was now sitting on his leg with her face buried in
his neck. "Shh, Mione," He whispered in her ear so only she could hear. "I've got you. I want you to
listen to me, okay? Can you do that?" he asked soothingly, she answered with a little nod into his neck. "You
should feel incredibly proud right now. You saved your parents lives when you brought them here. I know it hurts to
lose your home, but when it comes down to it, what you lost today were only possessions. You've got the most
important part of your home standing right here in this room. All the other things are replaceable.
Thank you, Harry," she sniffed, drying her eyes. "I just got a bit overwhelmed. I'm sorry for crying all
over you."
"Oh I don't mind," Harry said with a cheeky little smile. "Just as long as you're alright."
It was then that Harry did something he had never done before. Hermione was completely shocked as he pulled back from placing a soft, gentle kiss in the middle of her forehead. She stared into his eyes as her stomach flipped in excitement. Somewhere in he recesses of her mind, she realized that Harry was speaking to her again and she had now idea what he was saying.
"Wha?" Hermione could have slapped herself for sounding so dazed.
"I was just asking if you really were alright. I thought I lost you again there for a minute.
"Yeah, I'll be okay," She said still trying to stop the blush rising from her chest before it reached her face.
"I KNEW IT!" A shout came from the hall.
"Oh damn," Harry cursed, before waving his hand causing the door to slam in the enraged face of Ginny Weasley. "I think I ought to deal with this now, Mione. Talk to your parents."
If she didn't know how ugly this situation could get, Hermione would have laughed at the expression on Harry's face as he moved to the door.
"Wish me luck," he said simply before quickly slipping through the door. Hermione heard the beginnings of a shout just before the door snapped closed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"What the hell is your problem, Harry?!" Ginny's voice was just short of a full out scream. "We're supposed to be together. So why are you letting her sit in your lap?"
"We are not together, Ginny," Harry said firmly.
"Nonsense," Ginny waved off his statement. Harry could see Mrs. Weasley do the same thing. "Now stop avoiding the question."
"For your information, Ginny, Hermione had just found out how bad the attack on her home was and I was acting like a best friend should. And I don't think I'm the one doing the avoiding here," Harry's tone had more than a little bite to it. "We," he said pointing between himself and Ginny, "are not together. I broke up with you and that decision still stands. We aren't getting back together."
"I don't understand, Harry. Everything was fine. Everything was perfect. I love you. Please, Harry, tell me what I did wrong. I can change, I promise," this rapid shift from anger to her begging was very disconcerting.
"Our relationship was never fine," Harry made his voice softer to adjust to Ginny's change. "You don't love me, Ginny. The reasons why you think you love me are wrong. I'm not the Boy-Who-Lived. I'm not some super hero from your dreams. I'm the muggle-raised, Gryffindor seeker Harry Potter. You don't even know who I am.
"That's not--."
"It is true, Ginny. I knew from the beginning that that was how you saw me. Since Ron told me that you couldn't stop talking about me, really. But I thought if you had time to get older and get to know me. I tried to make a place for you in my heart. But maybe it was my fault since the beginning. I could have failed you. But maybe you just never took the time to know me. I'm not really sure what happened, but I do know that what you told me at the funeral proved it. I don't think anyone can be happy when they're fighting for their lives, and the lives of the whole world."
"You've been talking to Hermione about our problems, haven't you?" Ginny's anger returned with full force.
"What?!" Harry asked indignantly. "No! Of course I haven't."
"Don't you lie to me. You share everything with your precious Hermione."
"Whether I have or not, it really isn't any of your concern. Talking is something best friends do, if you didn't know," Ginny really knew how to hit a nerve.
"Well I do know that no girl is going to be happy with you as long as you don't start distancing yourself from Hermione.
"She'll just have to deal with it because there is no way I'd choose another girl over Hermione!" Harry barked before spinning and once again slamming the bedroom door in Ginny's face.
On the other side of said door, a sudden silence filled the room. Hermione and her parents were sitting closely together on a couch where he gestured to them to continue their conversation as he grabbed a book he had no intention of reading and crossed to the opposite end of the room.
He sat with the open book in his lap, his mind reeling at the realization he had just made. With one simple, instinctual, responsive statement a chord was struck deep within Harry's mind turning his whole world on end. Not only did he have deep-rooted feelings for Hermione Granger, he was, in fact, deeply in love with her, and he had no idea what to do about it.