With No Control

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Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

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With No Control

By: Eternal Love LJ

Chapter One: Broken Wings

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Thank you for being such a friend to me

Oh I pray a friend for life

And have I ever told you

How much you mean to me?

Oh you mean so much to me

Thinking all the time

How to tell you what I feel

I'm contemplating phrases

I'm gazing at eternity

I am floating in serenity

And I am so lost for words

And I am so overwhelmed

Please don't leave just yet

Can you stay a moment please

We can dance together

We can dance forever

-- Flyleaf, Broken Wings

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You could say I have all the time in the world to search for Horcruxes and their meaning. Or, you could be more practical and say I have all the time that the world is willing to give me. Who knows when Voldemort could come bursting in and . . . kill us all, shall we say? Or . . . perhaps Voldemort chooses a more violent route and plans to kidnap me using various spells and enchantments.

If I could just lay my hand on a book with all of his plans in it, I would be able to put a stop to him. If I could get a hold of just one piece of vital information, maybe I would be able to relax Harry and little. He would be able to step back and take a look at all that I've done for him.

Maybe he'll take a step back and love me just that much more, even. Maybe . . . just maybe, he'll take that step back into my direction. Am I heading backwards? As long as that's the way Harry's heading.

Why does it all have to come back to Harry? Is my best friend supposed to make me feel like this? No. Of course not. I'm smart. I can take apart my feelings and I can analyze them logically. I, Hermione Granger, have it bad for my best friend.

No. That's something that Ron would say. I have intense feelings towards a member of the opposite sex. And he happens to have the name Harry Potter. But I guess that's irrelevant when you look at feelings. Your feelings have a pass through life and that pass would be that you feelings can . . . feel anything they want and it doesn't matter to your feelings who you feel.

I put my head in my hands and wish that I could stop talking to myself and that I could get back to this stupid book. Wow, did I just call this book stupid? Sorry, book . . .

"Hermione, are you alright?" Ron asked me. We were sitting at the kitchen table of the Weasley house and we were the only two people still awake.

"Yeah," I said, imitating a yawn. "I'm just a little tired. That's never stopped me before, has it?"

"No. Nothing stops you, Hermione," Ron smiled. He went back to his book. I watched him for a moment. The flickering light of the candle made his hair look redder than ever. His freckles seemed to blend in with his skin, though. He has long, slender fingers that played with his fringe.

I sighed and turned my eyes to my book. I had known for a long time that Ron has/had a crush on me. I really don't know what will become of it, though. I let his shoulder be my resting place at Dumbledore's funeral and I almost asked him to Slughorn's party thinking that maybe I can get my eye off the star of the century, but when does luck have a play in my life?

"You sure you're alright?" Ron asked me. "You're not reading."

I almost got a little agitated at the fact that he was staring at me so hard that he realized my eyes weren't tracing the letters on the page. I looked into the candle floating at the middle of the table and nodded. "I guess tiredness has to get me at some point."

Ron touched my cold hand that was resting on the book's page. "Why don't you go get some sleep. I'll take over for you."

He sounded like he was in the Order. I nodded and I felt the chair scrape the floor underneath me. Was it really tiredness? How could tiredness make me feel . . . numb, like it wasn't me that had moved the chair?

Ron put his hand on the small of my back as if to guide me towards the stairs. I waved goodnight to him and slowly made my way up. I passed Ginny's room and kept walking. Even if I didn't want to go see Harry, I wasn't in the mood for waking Ginny.

I skipped the stair that I knew creaked on the last flight and slowed down when I reached Ron's room. Harry was inside sleeping soundly. I pressed my ear against the door and I heard a ruffle.

Curiosity got the best of me and I opened the door a little, peaking in. The room smelt of boy and summer. The wedding of Bill and Fleur was a great thing since it brought Harry to the house.

He was sitting upon his bed in the corner, reading a book. He had looked up when the door opened, and I was instantly embarrassed.

"Oh, um," I stuttered. "I'm sorry, Harry. I just . . . I wanted to check on you. See if you were alright and all."

Harry nodded and responded. "I'm okay. I just couldn't sleep. Do you want to come in?"

I tried to keep my heart rate the same as I closed the door behind me. Harry is you best friend. Act like you actually awoke Ginny and she invited you for a conversation.

I sat down on the edge of his bed and scooted up a little. He made room for me and sat up straighter.

"What are you reading?" I asked, taking the book out of his hand. Reigns of the Worst was the title. "Where did you get this?"

Harry pushed his glasses up his nose and replied. "Mr. Weasley gave it to me. I think it might have some stuff on Horcruxes in it . . . but since Voldemort is probably the first diabolical wizard to make enough Horcruxes to deserve any history, we might not get anything from this book."

I nodded and folded the page he left off on. Putting the book on his shelf, I gave him a sharp glance. "Are you sure you want to do this alone, Harry? I know you would hate to lose either Ron or I, but we don't want to lose you any less. Please take that into consideration. We really want to help you. And you know Ron. if you die, he'll blame himself for not being there. Please, just let us help . . ."

"Hermione," Harry stopped me, "Maybe, just this once, we could forget about everything and just . . . pretend we're back in first year and the only troubles we have are passing exams and turbans. Could we do this just once?"

If I didn't have romantic feelings for him, the truly sad face wouldn't have worked. My stomach gave a sharp twist as he looked into my eyes. Damn him.

"Yeah. Just once, though, Harry."

He smiled and put his hands behind his head. He closed his eyes and he purposely poked me with his foot. "Do you have anything you want to talk about? We barely ever get a chance to talk like this."

I contemplated what to say first. "Unless you want me to go all deep and emotional on you, no, I really don't."

What a stupid thing to say. That only works with Ron because he sucks with emotions. Tell him you have something serious to say (not about the war) and he leaves as soon as possible. Anything emotional or anything on the edge.

"You can tell me anything, Hermione, and you know it."

I looked down at my hands and watched them play with the hem of my shirt. "Yeah, I know, Harry." I looked up at him and he still has his eyes closed. I sighed.

"Shoot then," he said, opening one eye.

"Harry," I said almost boldly, "have I ever told you . . . um, anything about what I think of our friendship?"

I guess that captured his attention because he opened both his eyes and sat up again. "No, you haven't really. What do you want to say, Hermione?"

I smiled at the way he said my name. "It's all a bunch of fluff. I don't think-"

"We all need a little bit of fluff right now, Hermione. I'm sure I'll appreciate and agree with everything you say," he said confidently.

I sighed again. "Well, I mean, over the years . . . you've been the best friend that I could have ever hoped for. You were more accepting of me than anyone else at Hogwarts our first year. You have stayed consistent in our relationship and you've shown me that you really know how to keep a bond between two people going."

Harry was smiling as me now and he laughed a little. "You're going to make me blush, Hermione."

I smiled too and continued. "I just really wanted to say . . . um, thank you for being such a great friend."

Harry's smile softened and he said, "My pleasure, Hermione. You've been the best friend a guy can wish for."

I was relieved that he didn't make fun of me. "But . . . like I was saying before . . . I- you just mean to much to me, Harry, and I don't want to lose you. Not when I have to much to tell you."

Harry raised an eyebrow at me. "What do you have to tell me?"

I opened my mouth but then closed it. "Maybe another time, Harry, just not-"

"Like you said, Hermione, we never know when I could leave, or even you. I'm sure what you have to say is hard to say, but . . . you'll feel better. Knowing I know, that it." He gave me a lopsided smile.

"I just think all the time how to tell you this and I can never come up with a good enough answer. This really isn't the right time-"

"Then when will be, Hermione?" he asked. "I want to know just as much as you need to tell me."

I closed my eyes and let myself fall back so I was laying down on his bed. "I'll say it wrong. I know I will. It'll all come out jumbled and weird sounding and I'll look like an idiot and you'll hate me forever."

Harry paused for a moment before replying, "If you know me as well as I hope you do, you would know that I could never hate you. Not even a little bit, Hermione. Never mind forever. And you're one of the smartest people I know. Why would I think you're an idiot?"

"Because I can't control this!" I said, sitting up. "I can't control my goddamn feelings, Harry James Potter, and that is not like me! I always have control and I always know what to say and what to do and I never have a problem with this! And it's all your fault because you're the only person who has ever made me feel this way and I can't stop this! I can't stop worrying about the war like you want me to do and I can't stop being terrified of the fact that you might die and I can't help but think that I'd die too if you did. Nothing makes sense anymore! Nothing makes sense when you add feelings into the mix."

I could tell that Harry was trying very hard to give me a good face to look at. I groaned and covered my face with my hands.

"Hey, hey," he said, taking my hands away from my face. "Calm down, Hermione. You can't be the one going crazy on us," he smiled slightly. "Um, are you saying that . . . you . . . like me?"

I smiled up at him and laughed a little. "Yeah . . . I like you, Potter." I sat up and leaned on my knees. "I think I a little more than like you."

"Do you love me?" Harry asked.

"Don't get all corny on me, Harry. I'm not the corny type."

"Love is not corny at all!" Harry said. "Love is . . . wonderful."

"Speaking of corny . . ."

"Hey," he said, mirth in his voice, "No making fun of me. Plus, we all know that love is Voldemort's only downfall. Love might save us all. The fact that you love anyone makes you stronger than him, Hermione. And I happen to be the luckiest guy in the world because you chose to love me."

I felt my stomach shift to my throat. Why was he so good with words? "So . . . you're not mad?"

"Mad?" he asked, smiling. "Why in the world would I be mad? Truthfully, I was worried that I'd have to tell you I love you first . . . but it's cute to watch you squirm."

I looked at him and smiled. "Spare me the agony next time."

Harry stood up and held out his hand. "Come on."

I took his hand and he pulled me up. He wrapped one arm around my waist and kept the other one clasped in my hand. "Now, we dance."

"I haven't danced in years," I said.

He moved his feet and I started matching his moves. I stepped a little on his foot and I giggled.

"Sorry," I muttered.

"You could pull my hair as hard as possible and I'd tell you to do it again just because it was you, Hermione. You don't have to be sorry."

He twirled me and I got a little tangled. Harry laughed at me as I tried to spin under his hand. "There," he said when I circled back to his chest. He took a step back and bowed. "It has been lovely dancing with you, my lady."

"Oh, and quite the same," I replied back. I began to laugh as he stepped closer and closer to me. He had quite the twinkle in his eye . . .

The door to Ron's bedroom opened forcefully and Ron walked in, a stack of books much higher than his head covering his face.

"Harry? Are you awake? The light is on . . ."

Harry stared at the book-covered Ron for a moment before silently yet hurriedly gesturing for me to hide under the bed. "Yeah . . ." Harry said distractedly. "Awake I am, I guess."

"Well, then what the bloody hell are you waiting for? Help me with these effing books!"

Harry ran over to Ron once I was settled under the bed. I had to hold back a cough from all the dust that had accumulated.

"Why weren't you sleeping?" Ron asked as I saw their feet stride towards a bookshelf.

"I was reading that book your father gave me," Harry said, dropping a book on the ground by accident on purpose.

"Is it any good?" Ron asked.

Then, I saw Harry appear next to the book on the floor and gesture for me to leave the room while Ron wasn't looking.

"Yeah, it's pretty interesting," Harry replied, jerking his head to my left.

I started to crawl out from under Harry's bed. I kept close attention to the direction of Ron's feet.

"Anything I might want to read?" he asked.

"Probably not," Harry said. He was watching me closely as my whole body slithered out from under his bed. "It's mostly . . . about . . ."

"What's up with you?" Ron said, taking his shirt off. "You sound really distracted."

"Nope," Harry said confidently. "Just tired."

"That's what Hermione said too," he said, taking off his pants. I tried not to look as Ron redressed in pajamas.

"Did she?" Harry asked.

"Yeah. She couldn't concentrate on her book," he said, shedding his boxers.

I tried my hardest not to squeak and basically reached the door. Ron had left it open, seeing as he was unable to close it, thank Merlin.

Harry restrained himself from making a comment about Ron's nudity as he finished dressing.

I stood up once I reached the threshold of the door. I ran as quietly as possible down to Ginny's room and opened the door quietly, the sounds of Harry and Ron's talk drifting down the stairs. I knew that Ginny didn't like her door completely closed when Harry was over, so I left it open an inch. I climbed into bed and sighed, looking up at the ceiling.

Harry was right. I do feel better.

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A/n: My first H/Hr fic. I like it. What do you think? Review please!