A/N:
I know it's been a while, so I'd rather not say so much.
Read on and I hope you enjoy!
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"That was quite---fast, Harry," Sirius observed as Harry strolled into the study, a scowl on his face.
"She was exhausted."
"No doubt, with how you callously showed her how much her health is important to you."
"Now is not the time, Sirius."
Sirius ignored his godson. "Clearly, you love her. What I do not understand is the reason that you keep pretending she is no more important to you than a ward you unintentionally accepted."
"I do not love her!"
"I certainly hope Polly Smith did not race an imbecile, Lupin," Sirius said to his friend who, until then, had been silently watching the exchange.
Lupin shoved away from the desk he'd been leaning on. "Oh, I am quite sure she did not. Harry is merely in denial, my good friend."
Harry's head jerked towards Lupin.
"Hermione loves you, Harry," Lupin said gently, hoping a less assertive tactic would fare much better than Sirius' aggressiveness. "What are you scared of?"
"I am not scared of anything where Hermione is concerned, only that she gets into trouble more than I can count."
"Such bitterness, I hope you did not tell her that directly."
Harry looked so grief-stricken he couldn't have said his affirmative any louder for Sirius and Lupin to understand.
"Do you have any idea what that woman had gone through and the first thing she hears upon waking is that you think she endangers herself on purpose?!" Lupin whispered; incredulity clearly in his tone.
"I did not say that!"
"But you let her think it." Sirius snapped, following Harry as he walked around the room. "Are you so destroyed that you merely want everybody to be miserable?"
"Stop making accusations of matters you are uncertain of!"
"Then make as understand!"
"Damn you, I do not want the risk!"
Sirius and Lupin exchanged looks.
"I lose those I care about, Sirius." Harry bit out. "I shall not risk a life by letting emotion control my mind."
"What of Hermione, what has she done to suffer whilst you do?"
"She would certainly become the pawn for this never-ending game of greed, if I all but shout to the world how I feel." He shook his head. "Am I to spill my heart out and announce to the whole country my feelings? Without it, Voldemort already has designs for her safety. To reveal such emotions would only invite more power to his cause."
"Then confide in her. Does she not deserve the truth from the man she loves?"
Harry's head looked up at this. "How can she? We have only known each other for months, not years."
"You do realize, don't you, that by questioning her feelings, you are also questioning yours? If we were to judge solely on how you two behave either in or out of each other's company, there is no doubt. Actions do speak louder than words."
"I see no point in this conversation, Sirius," Harry sank into one of the chairs and rubbed his forehead.
"Every point is in it."
Harry sighed, opening his mouth to answer, but stopped as a knock on the door came.
Ron came in, looking quite worried. His face bore no hint of the amused expression known by all as his eyes instantly searched and then found Harry.
The hair on the back of Harry's neck stood up so quickly that he did not allow himself to ask for a reason before he was on his feet, starting towards the door.
"It's not Hermione, Harry," Ron eyed him wearily.
Harry felt Sirius and Lupin's eyes on him. Avoiding their gaze, he shifted his attention to Ron.
"I did not want to alarm the ladies; therefore, I postponed any untoward reaction until now."
Harry merely waited, resisting the urge to cross his arms and tap his restless foot.
"A runner told me that there has been some activity on Voldemort's side of Gryffindor---"
"Of course there would be, my wife had just been abducted." Harry interrupted, annoyed.
"While I appreciate the sarcasm at this hour, I would postpone it, if I were you, because the activity involves the Key," Ron warned, although his glare had been enough to shut Harry up. "According to my resources, Voldemort has found its location and has sent men to retrieve it."
Ron was now staring at him intently and openly, and so were Sirius and Lupin. Their gaze was disconcerting, but not as much as the meaning that lay beneath.
"All right. If it means that much to all of you, I will search for it." Harry shook his head, sighing as he took a seat on the nearest available surface, which turned out to be his desk. "But nobody is to tell Hermione what is going on, or she will definitely insist on accompanying me."
"She has the right to know where you are going, however."
"That she may trail after me? I do not think it wise, Sirius. Your intentions are duly noted and received, but unnecessary. I shall do whatever I can to prevent this Key from getting into Voldemort's hands."
As Harry paced the room, Ron sat down on one of the plush armchairs by the window. Sirius was, thankfully, keeping silent while Lupin merely stood with his arms crossed.
"In light of the situation, might I ask what significance these Keys pose to you?"
"To everybody, Ronald." Sirius glanced at him absent-mindedly, and then resumed his thinking.
Ron looked even more bewildered. As a lord in the Gryffindor estate, he was quite well off and extremely apt in taking care of his tenants. But his recent appointment, by Harry, proved to be a burden, for all matters of importance had been discussed long before he was part of the circle.
Bits and pieces of information were thrown every now and then, but they were not enough to make him understand fully.
"These Keys have been mentioned a number of times to me, and I am well aware that it is important. However, it has never been brought to my knowledge the reason they are held in so high a regard."
Lupin uncrossed his arms and walked over to where Ron was and sat down opposite him. "Would you mind pouring us some of your fine brandy, Harry? It should not be hard to explain, but I feel I need a drink."
"It is not so dire, Ron." Harry reassured him as a he did what his barrister asked him. Taking out four glasses from his shelf, he mused. "I certainly do not see what the necessity for drama is all about."
"You would not, definitely. As Keeper of Gryffindor, you have the easiest access to the Keys." Sirius rubbed his palms against his thighs. "Where shall we start?"
"Kindly make it plain and simple? I wish to retire early." Unmindful of how the rest had reacted to his words, he sat down.
Despite his worries over people finding out how much he cared for Hermione, more than enough of his feelings were already tumbling out of his heart. He would rather show bits and pieces of this emotion every now and then, rather than have all its content pouring out in the most inappropriate time.
"If you want it quick, then may I have your promise of complete and utter silence? I would not care for your remarks, may they support my story, more so if they would not."
Harry gave him an innocent look and hid his grin behind his glass. Crossing his hands on his table, he prepared himself to be quiet. Noting this as a sign of compliance, Sirius began.
"Hogwarts Estate is a wealthy land, not only because of its vastness, but of the minerals hidden beneath it.
Centuries ago, the Forefathers of Hogwarts stumbled across a reservoir of treasures, of which origin they never found. They divided the wealth equally amongst themselves and began to manage their own lands. Thus, the four Estates of Hogwarts.
However, during the years, Slytherin started to squander his share in illegitimate investments that resulted to the decrease in his estate's worth.
He'd approached Hufflepuff, who lent him some of his share. When Slytherin had failed to return the money, Hufflepuff's estate never recovered from the loss. Ravenclaw intended to help both estates, but neither would accept assistance.
Thus, we see now the difference between the values of the Four Estates and the ranks of their Keepers."
"Yes, yes, a sad story." Ron mused aloud. "But I do not see where the Keys fit into the story."
"I'm getting there, my boy," Sirius huffed, and then cast his godson a look. "Your manners seem to be rubbing off on your friend."
Harry merely chuckled.
Shaking his head, Sirius continued. "Because Gryffindor believed Slytherin was prideful, but not principled, he knew that the Slytherin Lord would resort to theft in order to regain his wealth. And so, Gryffindor proposed a combination of assets. Every year, a percentage of earnings from each keep shall be deposited in a chamber. To protect the treasure within from commoners, even from themselves, he had each Keeper choose a jewel from their long found and divided treasure.
He had them fashioned as keys. Only when these four keys are used at the same time can this room be opened."
Comprehension marred Ron's face. "Bloody hell. It all makes sense now---why his pursuit of Harry and Hermione is relentless. If he gets those keys..."
"Exactly, Ron." Lupin countered. "However, that room poses more significance than what any of us originally thought."
"What do you mean?" Ron asked, his baffled expression falling on all three.
Sirius splayed his hands wide. "This fifth room is said to contain wealth that signifies more than monetary value. Whoever claims the treasure within has legal rights to rule over Hogwarts. Gryffindor proposed that it be opened only when leadership is in question, or when Hogwarts is in a dire state. With the fifth chamber only opened by all four keys, it is understood that whoever does it has been given full rights by the other Keepers of Estates."
"Pardon me, but Gryffindor and all the other Forefathers have been dead for centuries. They could not have known that there would be somebody who would go after it for the wrong reasons. Shouldn't their bloody negotiations be considered null?"
Harry sighed. "The contract they drew up is still legal and binding. Ravenclaw had it handed down, and re-written by barristers and their successors. Up to this day, it is still most powerful. In Hogwarts, it may matter who becomes Keeper of Estates, but to the rest of England, all that counts is following the papers."
"Where are the papers then?"
"It's under the care of the Bow Street Runners."
"And the chambers?"
"Beneath Gringott Mountain."
"Bloody hell, that's just outside London." Then Ron paused. "A mountain? How could they have built chambers large enough to house properties beneath a mountain, with doors that can only be opened by keys and not force?"
"Renovations have been made since the first time it was built. It was only when Voldemort became Keeper of Estate that it stopped. Now we know that it was only to prevent it from getting more impenetrable." Sirius looked at Ron speculatively. "You question such simple structures when all around you, there is proof of man's innovation."
"Yes, but man's innovation was not as remarkable as it was when the Forefathers were still alive. Pardon me for all the surprising questions."
Harry laughed. "It is merely the fact that you asked them which is astounding, Ron."
Ron ignored the insult with a snort. "My brain does tend to work every now and then." Then he turned serious. "Where are the keys? And why do they sound hard to find?"
"Each Keeper of Estate decides on their dwelling place during their succession. They can hide them in wherever place they wished, and however disguise they believe would keep them safe. The location and form is then revealed to their successor upon their deathbed, or whenever they deem to be the right time."
"Have you hidden yours, Harry?" Lupin thought to ask belatedly.
Harry nodded once. "It is safe."
"And Hermione's is not." Sirius concluded. "I wonder if she has been informed of it when her father died. He might not have had the chance to tell her where he hid it and what form he disguised it in. Has she mentioned anything to you?"
Harry looked at them incredulously. "She was asking about them. She couldn't know."
Sirius and Lupin shared looks of comprehension.
"This is dangerous," Lupin observed evidently. "Voldemort might actually know its whereabouts. He could get it before you, who do not even know what you are looking for."
"We cannot be too sure, Lupin," Harry countered. "I know Ravenclaw's jewel is a sapphire. That is a start."
"These jewels are common throughout the world, and may I remind you that they can be in any form. They are not just keys plastered on things, their form might actually be hidden beneath something you would just look at but not see."
"I wonder whether you are on my side, Sirius," he mumbled. "I am having enough trouble as it is, without you constantly opposing my solutions."
"I am merely stating what I believe to be facts, Harry." Then he gave a profound sigh. "If I am making it harder on you, I am sorry.
In all fairness to him, Harry thought, his godfather did sound apologetic.
Harry waved his silent apology with a curt nod and looked somewhat distracted. Glancing outside his window, he caught a glimpse of a shadow moving across the window from the opposite wing. He tensed as he realized that that part of the manor led to his chambers, and Hermione's.
Not wanting to alert anybody, should it be a false alarm, Harry straightened up abruptly.
"Excuse me, gentlemen, I had forgotten an initial concern I wish to address with Hermione. Perhaps we may resume this conversation tomorrow morning before I leave to retrieve the Key."
At this announcement, Ron and Lupin exchanged looks of surprise. Sirius merely stared at him. He wondered whether his godfather knew more about him than he dared to admit. Nevertheless, he could not dwell on it right now.
First, he wanted to make sure Hermione was safe.
Second...
Just because.
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"I am well aware I should not be here, Hermione---your grace---but I simply had to see you were all right."
Hermione refrained from yawning as she looked at her sudden visitor with hooded lids. Having been awakened from slumber, she still sported sleepy eyes and uncooperative limbs. Thankfully, she had managed to pull on a robe before rushing to open the incessant knocks on her door.
"Do not fret so, William," she said with compassion, unable to summon a hint of annoyance for her friend who himself sported an ugly bruise right above his brow.
William shook his head, clasped her hands in his in a swift, frenzied motion. "How can I not? You look as if you've lived through hell..."
"I am all right." She smiled dreamily. "My husband has been giving me excellent care."
William looked away, a flash of anger covering his face for a split-second before returning to concern.
"You must have your rest, Will." Hermione noted the fatigue under his eyes and the tension lining his mouth.
He laughed with less sombreness. "As much as I am contradicting my actions, I believe it is you who need rest."
"As I had assured Harry a while ago, I look worse than I actually feel."
William shook his head, mournful. "I feel quite shameful that I had not come in time to keep you from being hurt. I am dreadfully sorry."
"You need not apologize." She looked at him, her face contorted with confusion. "I did not expect you at all."
William sighed, leaned back a bit on the chair. "I understand."
Her sleepiness gone, she leaned forward, her hands still in his. "How did you know where they kept me?"
He merely pondered on the question, shifting ever so slightly in his seat.
"Even now, it makes no sense, however grateful I am that not only did Harry save me again, but he also managed to find me in a place he would not have searched. Did you have anything to do with that?"
William was looking at her intently, battling, it seemed, an inner turmoil that she couldn`t quite fathom. Just when she felt as if he would not answer her question at all, he gave a profound sigh.
"I was there when you got abducted."
She frowned.
"Do you not recall seeing me across the street that day?" William asked, brows knitted in confusion.
Hermione bit her lip, suddenly remembering what she had forgotten amidst the adventure she had involuntarily gotten herself in.
"I was about to cross the street, but a carriage passed by. The next thing I saw was you, getting in a carriage. It seemed suspicious to me that it was not the ducal carriage, and that you seemed weak somehow. You weren't unconscious, but --- I believe the right word for it was --- dazed."
Hermione pondered on this, recalling the smell, blanching at the memory of how it had numbed her senses. "But that does not explain the reason you were there, or how Harry got there. Did you look for him when you saw me?"
William shook his head, raising his brows. "I followed the carriage by myself. I wanted to make sure that you were in trouble first before I alerted anybody." He shrugged his shoulders.
She nodded, if only to keep him talking. Inwardly, she knew that William's actions had been made out of pride. If it had been Harry, she was certain he wouldn't have had second thoughts to alerting anybody, whether he'd had doubt of her condition. But then again, Harry would have just gone straight after her.
That was who he is.
Her knight; her saviour.
William's voice slowly drifted back to her senses.
"When I saw where the carriage stopped, a shady inn that didn't shout even a modicum of respectability, I got suspicious. Somebody went in and then came back in a hurry. The next thing I knew, one of them was carrying you out. You were unconscious already, and it confirmed my fears." He rubbed his forehead. "I paid a stable boy to send a message to your husband. I don't know why I waited before I went in. A few minutes before he arrived, I came to my senses and went in anyway, hoping I would be able to buy him some time."
"And you got hurt." Hermione eyed his bruises and squeezed the hand that held hers. "But thank God you came."
William chuckled feebly. "Fat lot it helped. You barely made it out."
Hermione exhaled sharply, annoyed. "You and Harry, with your self-pitying. Frankly, I am a little bit tired trying to make you see reason. All you consider is the fact that I nearly got killed. The reality that I am still alive and well must have escaped you both."
"Self-pity is not the reason I cannot let it go, Hermione," came Harry's voice from the doorway.
Hermione looked at him sharply, her face registering surprise at how menacing her husband looked, leaning on the threshold, his arms crossed, and his eyes shooting daggers at William's direction.
She felt William tense beside her, his hand squeezing hers.
"Averley, you are aware of the time, are you not?" Harry asked undisturbed by the discourtesy he was displaying. "I have a perfectly good timepiece that not only tells the hour, but counts the seconds as well. Perhaps you would venture to look."
Sensing his unwanted presence and the meaning beneath the duke's tone, William rolled his eyes. "I shall visit with you tomorrow morning. Will that be all right, your grace?"
Hermione smiled weakly. "That would be wonderful, Will."
He nodded, and as if to provoke Harry even more, he pressed a longing kiss at the back of Hermione's hand. "Rest well," he murmured before rising.
Hermione did not react, not even so much as blush. "Thank you."
Harry stepped aside for William to pass, but only after sending him a clear, but subtle warning glare.
Closing the door behind him, Harry continued over to the dresser and began to remove his clothes. Hermione continued to stare, unabashed by her husband's current state of undress.
Amidst changing, he caught a glimpse of her, watching him.
"I give you leave to continue your perusal, madam, but with the warning that whatever consequence shall arise, it would be nonnegotiable."
Hermione glared at him. "You know very well why I am looking at you, my lord. You did not have to be so rude to William. He was just concerned over my condition."
"No doubt you are flattered by his attention," he mumbled.
Hermione's eyes narrowed, and then she sighed. If loving him meant she had to deal with the swings of his moods, then so be it. No matter how hard he might become in the coming years, what was she to do but try to soften him?
"Yes, it does flatter me" she admitted slowly, gauging his reaction. Then she inclined her head to the side. "But it is yours that pleases me."
Surprise flickered over his face.
Replaced by heat that slowly wrapped her from the tips of her toes, to the stomach that suddenly rumbled with anticipation, to her chest that tightened with desire, and to her face that flushed with memory.
With a primordial growl, Harry crossed the room and grabbed her, fitting her lush body against his hardened one. His hands were rough as they roamed over her body, as if just realizing she was flesh and blood and with life.
Revered.
That's how she felt.
And when his lips descended on hers, it was everything she was expecting. The desperate, hungry kiss she was waiting for did not fail to awaken her. Their bodies were together in the barest of contacts, but he kissed her with urgency, as if he couldn't do anything but try to fuse them much closer than they already were.
She tasted his worry, his urgency, just as he tasted her compassion, her sweetness.
Tears misted in her eyes.
He loved her.
She was sure of it.
Harry pulled back, feeling the moisture against his face.
"I love you."
Her eyes searched his for an answer she already knew in her heart. She lifted her palms and placed it on his chest, feeling the beat of his heart that was rapidly gaining speed, no doubt by the kiss they shared, and further hastened by her confession.
Although, truly, it was not a confession so hard to understand.
"Why?" Harry asked, his voice hoarse.
If he had asked in mockery, not against her but himself, she would have been furious. But seeing the look of total incredulity in his eyes, as if he did not know how she could love a man like him, had her heart bursting with all the answers she knew to give.
But there was only one that explained it all.
"Because I do."
She could feel him withdrawing; felt it in the way his grip had slacked, the way his eyes turned from hers. But she would not allow him. Even if he shouted to the world that he did not return her feelings, nothing would have induced her to turn away from him. She knew the truth, no matter how he tried to hide it.
"Don't," he said.
Laying a hand on his cheek, she coerced him to look into her eyes. "I love you."
"Hate me, Hermione," he answered instead, frantic. "I can bear hatred from you. Anything, but your love."
Hermione's eyes moved over his. She slipped away from his embrace, but not far enough from his reach. "All right."
His eyes glazed over from the compliance. If it were even possible, he looked more pained than when he rejected her love.
His hands, on their own volition, came up to her face, his fingers caressing the cheek that were damp with her tears.
"I hate you," she whispered as she reached up to press his hand against her cheeks. "I hate that you always rescue me, because it just shows me how much more you've done for me than I have for you. I hate you because you think our marriage has given me a life worse than before, when I know it's the only good thing that has ever happened to me..."
Harry's jaw clenched against her palm, his throat working convulsively as Hermione continued her litany.
"I hate that you were not the arrogant man I thought you were, and because of that, you showed me how wrong I had been to judge you. I hate you for making me feel guilty about hating you, and that you never let me know your past exactly as you know mine."
Harry closed his eyes against the rush of feelings her words evoked, knew from the very depths of his soul that he was close to revealing what his heart beat, his mind screamed.
"Most of all," Hermione hiccupped through her tears. "I hate you because you made me fall in love with you, and because you want me to hate you when I know that's the last thing I would ever feel for you again."
Harry groaned, losing himself in her voice, in her words. He hauled her into his arms and buried his face in the crook of her neck. He pressed soft kisses from there, outlined her jaw with his lips and then finally covered hers.
"If that is how you hate, my darling," Harry whispered, his breath mingling with hers. "Please hate me forever."
"I will, my lord." Hermione sobbed, her arms wrapped around his waist. "I will."
He captured her mouth with his in a lasting moment of triumph, knowing that his surrender meant both his and her victory. His life and hers were on the brink of danger with each turn they took, each day that passed. If there was one thing he had learned while still lingering in the ghost of his past, it was that each moment counted. Time can never be regained and if he kept losing his with hers voluntarily, regret would come in volumes after.
With all his talk of not putting her in danger by revealing his feelings, he knew what a fool he would be if he kept disregarding his emotions. As he had surmised earlier, bits and pieces of them were already pouring out. Their enemies, weak as they were, were wise. No matter how hard he tried, they would know, if they did not already.
And Sirius was right.
Hermione deserved to know.
He tore his mouth from hers, smoothing her hair from her forehead. "My love," he coaxed her eyes to open. When they did, he smiled at her. "Lay with me, my darling, and let me show you how much your hatred means to me."
Her answering smile sent waves of pleasure in his gut. Her wandering hands found the sash on his robe, her fingers sending bolts of electricity through his skin.
For the second time, Sirius was right.
Actions did speak louder.
"Feel my desire for you, Hermione," he whispered as he trailed kisses on her shoulders, exposed by the robes he had parted ever so slowly. "Feel it, and know it does not even begin to rival my love for you."
And that was the last coherent words both of them spoke or heard for quite a while.
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"What do you think Harry wanted with Hermione," Ron asked the moment unified silence came over their conversation about the certain merits of Draco Malfoy's marriage to Ginevra Weasley.
Lupin surmised over this for a moment. "He merely wants to make certain she is resting and not being her usual exuberant self.
"Yes, no doubt Hermione is on the brink of insanity, if Harry had his way of keeping her there all day."
Lupin nodded. "He is a tad bit overprotective when it comes to her. And he says he does not love her. Does he not find it odd to be parading around as a walking contradiction?"
"What do you think, Sirius?"
Sirius straightened from leaning against the balcony door frames.
"If I am not mistaken," he grinned at them. "I believe Harry merely wanted to ascertain my precision on certain things."
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Hours later, as Hermione nestled warmly by Harry's side, his fingers stroking the smooth skin of her hips, she sighed.
"Did that mean you love me a great deal?"
Harry laughed, turned on his side and tipped her nose. "Would you care for another demonstration, wench?"
"Wench?" Hermione asked turning on her side as well. "I believe I prefer to be called your `love', or your darling."
"Those you are, mon haleine."
Hermione's inside twisted in warmth.
"You are my breath, Harry," she whispered, shaking her head. "Thanks to you, I am still alive."
Sobering, Harry looked into her eyes. "Do you really believe that I've done more for you than you for me?"
Hermione nodded.
With a sigh, Harry kissed her lightly before speaking. "You have given more than you think you have, sweetheart. You give me peace."
At this, Hermione laughed incredulously. At Harry's surprise, she clamped her mouth shut. "I'm sorry, my lord, it's just that your words are very much a contradiction of what has happened to us since we met. Why do you believe I've given you peace when half the time we have been together, you're always chasing after me?"
Harry considered this for a moment and must have realized the other meaning his words revealed. True as they were, they had another side, a side which he should explain to her.
Gathering her in his arms, he recalled what she said earlier as well. "My past is something I wanted to keep from you. Not because I don't trust you with it, but because I did not want you judging me."
"Oh, Harry," Hermione whispered. "To judge you would never be something I can do. Not blindly. Not anymore."
"Yes, but moreover, relaying my past to you would bring back the memories that I long to bury. I judge myself, sweetheart, what more you?"
"I can try to understand, Harry. That, I can do."
Searching for reassurance in her eyes, he proceeded to tell her of his past with Polly: the stories she'd provided him with when he'd asked of his origin, the times she'd comforted him when he felt he was abusing her hospitality, and the mother she'd been, whom he'd loved more than the birth mother he only came to know and love upon his return. Most of all, he told her of the night she'd been murdered, and his remorse over losing someone without doing anything.
"Oh, my love," she whispered, gathering him in her arms when he'd moved away from her as if he had some despicable disease. "You believe you let her die, don't you?"
Harry said nothing, just revelled in the feeling of her supporting him.
"It wasn't merely about surviving, was it? When you decided to duel for a living." She rubbed the nape of his neck with her thumb, soothing him. "You believed that if you learned to protect and be good enough to kill with your skills, you were not only saving her life over and over, but also preventing yourself from feeling that way ever again."
"That's one way to look at it."
"Is that also the reason why you didn't want me to love you?"
"And why I didn't want to love you." Harry sighed, lying on his back. He brought her against his chest. "I was selfish. I did not want to feel anything for you because you thread in danger most of the time. The risk of losing you is so great, now more than ever. I know that if I gave in to loving you, I would be putting myself in the same situation that I had with Polly."
Hermione nodded in understanding, and God help him if he didn't love her more for it.
Tipping up her chin, he asked. "Forgive me?"
She smiled up at him. "There's nothing to forgive, Harry. I don't care what your reasons are for not telling me right away. You love me enough to risk your heart again. That is more than what I deserve."
"Thank you for understanding."
"My place is with you, Harry. To understand what is in your heart is not chore, but a privilege that I intend to appreciate always."
"How could I have been so fortunate to have you as a wife?"
"I bet you didn't' think that when we got married."
"Ah, but you are mistaken there. I wanted you from the very first moment I met you. But you had some maggot in that brain of yours when you persisted to ignore me. I wouldn't have married you had I simply wanted to keep you from danger. It was merely an excuse, my love, so as not betray what I really wanted."
"And what was that?"
"To keep you safe with me," he kissed her. "...by me," and again. "...and for me."
And again.
Hermione smiled, pleased to the tips of her toes. She never expected anything like this from him, not even his admittance of his love. But to hear him say these words to her as if he couldn't say them fast enough was a boon she would forever hold dear.
"Let us sleep, love." Harry suggested, blowing out the candles. "Tomorrow, I need to travel. I wish to investigate on your disappearance. It has gone far enough, this threat on your life. Would you be all right by yourself for a fortnight?"
Hermione nodded, her eyes closing drowsily. "I am within your walls, husband. I know better than to doubt my safety here." But she can't help but feel sad that he was leaving so soon after this wonderful revelation. She had thought to spend the next days with him, basking in the glory of loving and being loved with the entire world as witnesses. Moreover, she worried over him. But she did not want to say anything for she knew he would do as he pleased.
It would have bothered her, had it not been for her he was doing this.
"I shall endeavour to return to you as fast as I possibly could."
Kissing him in the dark, she whispered. "I shall hold you to your promise, my lord."
Tightening his arms around her, he prepared to settle for the night. Despite how it had started, he found it hard not to grin and be pleased. He'd thought that if he told her how he felt, he'd regret it the moment the words left his mouth. What a fool he had been, and would have been had he not decided to risk it.
It had been turmoil, keeping his feelings locked up. The battle he constantly felt within tired him in more ways than he could count. But as soon as he told her, something inside him was wrenched open, the contents poured out, and nothing but clarity was left for him to bask in.
This was the peace that she gave him.
The peace loving her enabled him to feel.
"Harry?"
Her voice came in the dark.
"Hmm?"
He could feel her eyes on him despite the dimness of the room.
"I hate you."
He smiled.
"I love you, too."
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A/N:
Yeah! Hahaha, I finally had this chapter done. I originally planned on Harry saying those three words somewhere near the end of the story, but as some of you had voiced out, it has gone far enough, Harry's denial. I think most of you think that way but only few said it aloud. Anyway, I was sitting in front of my computer and I was thinking how I should end this chapter with a bang. Then I just sat there and continued to type until Hermione suddenly said I love you to Harry and it just clicked how it felt right for him to say the same thing to her. But I didn't want a conventional I love you.
Again, there are lots of things in this chapter. Hopefully, I didn't destroy the mood with all the technical talk in the beginning. Hope you liked it anyway.
Until the next chapter, then.
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