A/N - thanks for the reviews and just to answer some of the questions: this is only six chapters long and I've tried to keep the chapters reasonably short so it doesn't get too confusing and of course there's a happy ending - all my stories have a happy ending! Thanks again
Chapter 2 - Discovery
Hermione
Out of all the places I could've chosen to run away to, why I chose the Shrieking Shack I don't really know.
At least it wasn't raining.
Looking at the near demolished building, I start remembering the things that had happened within its broken walls - the initial meeting with Sirius all those years ago and then the battle against Voldemort's minions earlier this year. They didn't make me feel any better.
With a sigh, I begin the familiar trek towards Hogwarts, wringing out my hair as I go. It was quite warm and I'm sure there is steam coming off of me, but the sun dries me out quickly and before I know it my tear-stained face shows no trace of its earlier wetness.
By the time I reach the gates of my old school, my coat is off and I'm enjoying the heat on my back. I know exactly where I'm going now and with a great sense of purpose, I make my way to the edge of the lake where Professor Dumbledore had been laid to rest. Over the last year I would go there whenever I needed to get away from the war and everything that was going on. It always felt calm, peaceful even, in the spot where he lay and at times I was sure I felt him watching over me, helping me quell whatever turmoil I was experiencing at the time.
I arrive at the tomb and put a hand on its glowing white surface, still cool to the touch even though the sun was shining brilliantly down upon it. Immediately I feel more relaxed, more in control of my emotions and thoughts. A wave of sadness flows through me as I think about Harry and how I left him.
"What have I done, Professor?" I ask my old headmaster, closing my eyes with weariness as I try to work out what I should do next.
"Miss Granger?"
Startled, it took a moment before I realised it wasn't the voice of Professor Dumbledore saying my name but it was Professor McGonagall - how I could get the two confused, I don't know.
"Professor," I stumble out, "what are you doing here?"
"The castle is my home, Miss Granger," was the reply and I mentally kick myself for sounding so disrespectful, "may I ask the purpose of this unexpected visit?"
"Oh, er," I start, trying to think of a plausible excuse but then sag tiredly when I'm unable to think of anything but the truth, "I just needed somewhere to think and, well…"
"I understand," the professor said in a tone that one rarely hears from her, "I find this place well suited to a bit of quiet contemplation. I, myself, often come here to think and at times even have a chat."
"A chat?"
"Yes," the professor answered, her eyes straying over to the tomb with a fondness that softened her face somewhat, "I feel closer to Albus here."
I didn't reply as I watched my old teacher reach out and stroke the surface of the white marble, not unlike my own actions only minutes before, but this time it seemed a lot more personal. With that small action, it finally hit me how close my two favourite professor's probably were - had been - which started a whole new train of thought.
"You and Professor Dumbledore were very fond of each other," I say softly and I'm sure she's about to cry.
"He was an incredible man and a very, very dear friend," the professor tells me sadly.
"Were you and him ever anything more than just friends?" I ask, then blush terribly as I realise what I've just said. Sometimes it's hard to believe I'm actually quite intelligent.
Professor McGonagall looked at me strangely, as if she was working out whether to scold me or hug me, and then her face seemed to lose its normally hard veneer.
"No, Miss Granger, we weren't," she admits, "though there was a time, in the beginning, where I wished we were. Albus was a very charismatic fellow."
"Were you in love?" Honestly, what had come over me?
"Oh, I was," Professor McGonagall replied with a small smile that I had never seen before, "but his heart belonged to another, someone I could never compete with…"
"Sounds familiar," I mumble under my breath, making her look at me sharply.
"Pardon?"
"Nothing Professor," I quickly say before quickly moving the conversation back onto her, "I didn't know the headmaster had been married?"
"Oh, he wasn't. Albus and Viviane were only courting when she died. It all happened a long, long time before I met him."
"Died?"
"They were only teenagers yet Albus would talk of her as if it was all only yesterday. Even after all that time, one could see how much he still cared."
"He always seemed so happy…"
"Oh, he was," she smiled once more, "he saw life as just one great adventure, which was one of the reasons that I held him with such high esteem. He was an old man, by our standards, when I met him first and I must say my infatuation was quite complete," she chuckled softly, "oh, I was such a fool."
"Did he know how you felt?"
"Albus was a very perceptive man, Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall informs me in her usual brisk manner.
I nod as I think about the interactions of Professor McGonagall and Professor Dumbledore. You could tell they respected each other and you could tell that they had been comfortable in each other's presence but as I think hard about every time I saw them, at no stage did I think they had been a couple. Would that be Harry and I in forty years time? Would we be such good friends that we know everything about the other without going any further than just friendship? Would he be the powerful, incredible wizard and I the spinster witch who never quite got over him?
"You need not go down the same road as I have, Hermione."
I look up at Professor McGonagall and she is looking right back at me, her eyes piercing mine. She doesn't flinch or look away from me and I see something that is a mixture of the stern teacher I've known for seven years and someone who knows exactly what I'm going through. But how could she? Never, at any stage, have I mentioned my feelings for Harry. Never have Harry and I done anything remotely romantic, ever. Unless she's read my mind, there was no way she would know.
"I…I don't understand," I stammer, trying to hide my shock.
"Why don't we sit down and relax," was the answer, shocking me further. With a wave of her wand, two deck chairs appear, facing outwards toward the lake. The professor sits herself down and waits as I, still greatly confused, sit next to her.
I follow her gaze at the water and think about all that has gone on - my conversation with Harry, the knowledge that Professor McGonagall had had unrequited feelings for Professor Dumbledore and that she has actually talked to me about it. Could it get any stranger? Evidently it could.
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Harry
I didn't hear Mrs Weasley the first time she called my name as I was fixated on the spot where Hermione had stood moments before, not quite believing what had just happened. Two things kept repeating through my mind, both as confusing as the other. One, Hermione likes me. I mean, she must do if she's upset because she thinks she's not good enough for me, right? Which brings me to number two - she thinks she's not good enough for me? That's just…
"Harry, dear," Mrs Weasley interrupts my thoughts as she comes up to me and touches my arm, "are you alright?"
I look into the worried face of the woman who is now like a mother to me without seeing her at all. Suddenly a coherent thought enters my brain and I act on it instantly.
"I need to talk to Ron," I blurt out and without waiting for a response, I hurry back into the house, find Ron talking to his dad, drag him away with little explanation or apology, force him through the house until we get to what is now my room (it used to be the twins room until they left to live over their shop) which I push him into, shut the door, cast a very strong silencing spell and then start pacing frantically.
"She thinks she's not good enough for me," I begin, not having to explain who 'she' is.
"Yeah, I can see tha…"
"How can she think she isn't good enough for me?" I ask, really not aware that Ron had spoken, "I mean, she's the brightest witch of the age! She came tops in Hogwarts! She's brilliant!"
"True, but I think…"
"How can she think that? But…" I stop pacing and look at a shocked Ronald, "…that must mean she likes me, right?"
"Harry…"
"Do you think she likes me?" Something stops me then. Maybe it was the bemused look on Ron's face, or even his smirk. But I think it was because I really wanted to know what he thought, whether I was on the right track or really quite barmy. However, instead of answering my question, my so-called best friend just laughs at me.
"What?" I splutter out with as much indignation as I can muster, "what's so funny? Ron!"
"Sorry mate," Ron chuckles, making his way to the only chair in the room where he sits down and stretches his long legs out in front of him, "but you're really quite hilarious."
"I'm glad my life is of amusement to you," I mutter as I sit down on my bed feeling pretty bloody miserable. Ron must have finally worked out that I'm not really in a joking sort of mood as he stops laughing and sits upright.
"Look," he begins, sounding quite serious, "Hermione likes you Harry, even I can see that. She nearly went mental when Ginny touched your leg just before and she's being acting more and more barmy around you since you came out of hospital. Even before that, actually. And I thought I was the dense one…"
"Do you really think so?" I tried to confirm, ignoring the whole 'dense' comment as I tended to agree with him. Honestly, I don't have a clue sometimes.
"Yes, I really think so," Ron smirked, "so, did you ask her to the Ball?"
"No," I told him, slumping down dejectedly, "she kind of knocked me for six with the whole 'not good enough' thing. How can she even think that Ron?"
"Well, look who you've dated," Ron tells me patiently, like he is the expert on girls now that he's with Luna, "first off, Cho Chang - gorgeous, smart, a year older than you and to top it off she was a seeker…"
"Yeah, but…"
"…then you go out with my sister," his face screws up in slight disgust, "who I guess is pretty and a bit too popular with blokes and not to mention she also understands and loves Quidditch…"
"Yeah, but…"
"…and then there's Hermione," Ron pauses for effect and I scowl at him - which he ignores, "she is smart, yeah, but she isn't really that popular and to be frank, not that much to look at. And she only watches Quidditch because of you - she doesn't like it and doesn't really understand it. She probably thinks that you wouldn't want her because she is so different from the girls you've been out with before."
Ron stops speaking and I start to process what he had just said. It makes kind of sense.
"It doesn't matter to me that Hermione doesn't like Quidditch," I say after a moment of thought, "and she's as pretty as Cho and Ginny."
"Have you told her that?" Ron asks quietly and I slump down further.
"No," I whisper, my heart sinking.
"She needs to know, Harry."
I nod dejectedly and sigh.
"When did you get so smart?" I groan, wallowing in my own self pity.
"Since I started going out with Luna," Ron smiled, "she told me all this stuff and it makes sense. You two really need sort your selves out."
"How?"
"Look," Ron starts, sitting upright and facing me directly, "she's promised to help you with your speech and she has never, ever turned away from you when you need help. Send her an owl asking to see her and when she gets here, I'll keep Ginny out the way and you two can have a chat."
I think about the plan for a moment and see the wisdom in it. Hermione did promise to help with the stupid speech and there is no way she would turn her back on me now. With a new sense of optimism, I quickly jot out a note and give it to Hedwig to take to Hermione. Feeling a bit more hopeful, I sit with Ron and discuss ways of keeping Ginny away from me.