To Protect You

A/N: Hey! I'm back. Now, this is just a short piece while my beta reader finishes with my next formal fic. It was supposed to be a one shot, but it seems I am incapable of stopping sometimes. Hope you enjoy! This is probably the only fan fiction I have written without Fleur because it was supposed to be so short-sorry! Reviews are always appreciated!

Chapter 1: Facing Consequences

“Evening Harry.”

“Jeez!” Harry jumped as Hermione's voice reached his ears.

It was pretty late on a Friday night and he had just arrived to the common room after spending the majority of the evening with his girlfriend, Ginny Weasley. Or at least that was what he kept telling himself.

And Hermione apparently knew it.

“Where is she?” his best friend asked as he finally turned around to look at her.

He would never consider her ugly, not in a million years. But tonight, she looked like crap. Her hair was combed into a messy ponytail and the bags under her eyes were clearly visible. She already had her bathrobe and fuzzy cat slippers on, which brought up his next question.

“Why aren't you in bed Hermione?”

“Why aren't you?” she whispered, standing up from the couch she had been sitting on and putting a book and notes in the table in front of it. Which book it was, Harry did not even care to know at this point.

“I was with-” He readily rushed, like every other night when Hermione caught him sneaking past curfew into the common room, to tell his best friend that he had been with his girlfriend, but Hermione beat him to the punch.

“Really now? Are you going to tell me you were with Ginny? Funny, since she went to bed over three hours ago.”

“She was tired,” Harry whispered, clearly not believing his own words. Ginny had been the one wanting to spend more time with him. He was the one that had said he was tired.

“Of course. Now, are you going to tell me where you were?” Hermione could not care less about Ginny's reason for going to bed. She would pick a time to feel like a bad friend later. Right now, she wanted to face Harry.

“I took a walk. Now can you dispense with the third degree and go rest Hermione?”

“I will when you tell me what has been going on Harry.” Hermione crossed her arms, determination in her tired eyes.

“What are you talking about now?”

“I'm talking about all of it Harry. I'm talking about your lack of sleep, the increasing amount of time you have been spending by yourself, so much that even Hedwig complains, the increasing nightmares, and oh yeah, the fact that you barely talk to Ron anymore and that you have been avoiding me like the plague since the end of last year.”

“Hermione, what-”

“Oh, and do me a favor Harry. We have been friends for six years. Don't you dare insult my intelligence.”

Harry took a deep breath. No matter how much he tried to hide things, they never escaped Hermione Granger. He would never figure out how she could be so perceptive.

“I've just got a lot on my mind, that's all,” he whispered, “Nothing for you to worry about.”

“You see, that's where you are wrong Harry. We are in this fight together and I refuse to be left out while you try to deal with your turmoil.”

“Whatever `Mione. I'm going to bed.” He turned around, intending to go up the steps. But her hand took his wrist before he even got a chance to move.

“LOOK AT ME.” Hermione commanded.

He sighed. He was definitely in no mood for a pep talk, but he knew that if he walked out on her with that tone of voice, he would risk not making it out of the common room alive.

So he did as he was told, only to find that Hermione's eyes were shining with unshed tears.

“When are you going to stop doing this to her Harry? To yourself?” she whispered, “When are you going to stop denying your feelings?”

Her statement caught him off guard, and as a result, it made him angry. What did she know? How would she know? But more importantly, what gave her the right to pry into his personal life?

“What do you know about my feelings? Please let go of me,” Harry requested. Hermione could tell she had gotten his temper to rise, for his voice was restrained. But she was not going to stop now.

“I know that your heart is not in your relationship Harry. My guess? You took the easy way out so you would not have to deal with your real desires, with what you really want.”

Harry gulped. Where was she going with this? But he did not let his guard drop. He couldn't.

“And I suppose you are going to tell me what I want now Hermione, is that it?” He scoffed.

“I know you don't love her Harry. It doesn't take a genius to figure it out. And she doesn't deserve this.”

“I see. And what I want is?” he could not help the sarcasm that escaped his voice.

“Well, you are with Ginny because you are afraid to admit you want somebody else so badly it scares you. It scares you because Voldemort could use those same feelings to hurt you, to hurt her to get to you. Am I getting close?” she whispered in his ear.

“And what makes you think that girl is not Ginny?” he whispered with a hitched breath. Her closeness was not turning out to be a good thing at the moment.

As if she had known what he was thinking, she distanced herself from him.

“Tell me Harry, how are your nightmares coming these days?”

“What?” Harry blinked. The change of subjects had caught him off guard. One minute, he had been so close to her that he could have actually turned around and-

Harry passed his hand through his face. He had to get out of there now.

“It's a simple question Harry,” Hermione whispered, noticing his tiredness. But she was not about to give up. If he would not talk to her out of his own accord, she would make sure he would talk, by whatever means necessary.

“What am I supposed to say Hermione?” There was that temper of his again. She could tell she had struck a nerve, yet again, only she could not pin point the exact moment that she had done it, making her task that much more difficult. “They are nightmares.”

“Harry, please.” Hermione sighed. Why was he making it so hard to get through to him? They had been friends since first year. Why did he insist on putting up a wall between them?

“What Hermione? They are nightmares; sleep has not improved. Is that what you want to hear? What can you do about it?” He was close to yelling now. Couldn't she get it? The further away he was from her, the better.

“Are you actually getting sleep?”

“Not much,” he whispered.

“Oh Harry.” Her face was shadowed with concern as she drew closer to him. “I could still give you a dreamless sleep potion.”

“No. If he is getting into my dreams, I better make sure I know what he takes from my mind.”

“Fair enough. How is Occlumency coming?”

“It's a drag-Hermione, can I please go to bed now?”

Hermione sighed, nodding.

“I wish you would trust me enough to tell me what is bothering you,” she whispered.

“Nothing personal Hermione. I am just tired is all.” Harry tried to reassure her. After all, it was not her fault that he was feeling the way he was.

“Sure Harry. Today is one thing, tomorrow another. I can take a hint, you know?” Hermione snapped. She was tired of the whole avoid-me situation. But she clearly was not going to get anything out of him tonight.

“Hermione, what are you talking about? I am ti-”

“Go to bed Harry. That's what you wanted, wasn't it?” Hermione was hyperventilating. Obviously her anger was getting the better of her. “And say hi to Ginny for me.”

“What?” Harry would never get her. If Hermione knew that Ginny was not the one he wanted, why did she assume he was going over to sleep with her? Such a statement made his stomach churn.

But Hermione could only hyperventilate, providing all the answers that Harry needed. She needed to rest. Her wound did not fare well under stress.

“That's it Hermione. It is bedtime for you.” He started going towards her.

“Oh, don't worry about me. You go ahead and sleep. You've been doing such a good job being self-centered lately, I cannot imagine why you would change your habit- Harry, let go of me!”

Hermione suddenly found herself in Harry's arms, going upstairs.

And no matter how much she tried to fight it, it was useless. He was stronger than her.

And fighting was not doing much to help the situation either.

“Hermione, do calm down. We are here.” Harry let her go in front of her room door, unintentionally pressing her against it to keep her from falling, because she just could not stay still.

“I don't need a babysitter! I can take care of myself! And that includes walking!” Hermione could not stop yelling. His close presence did not matter. She barely noticed that she was literally trapped between his arms. She hated being treated like the damsel in distress.

Especially since he was the one in distress.

“Go to bed Hermione,” Harry commanded, his arms still restraining her movement although he was not exactly holding her.

Hermione however, was not feeling like taking any more of Harry's mood swings. If he would not cooperate, why should she?

“Go to bed? Last time I checked, you were the one that was tired. Why don't you try getting some sleep? Maybe Ginny can help, since you don't seem to be able to do a very good job of it yourself.”

Harry sighed. Somehow, his anger had faded away. Now, his mind was just focused on her. She was right; he was tired. But he was not exactly sure of where the sudden tiredness had come from.

Had it begun because of his own internal tumult? Or had it been because of Hermione's speech?

He sighed once more. Whether or not he liked to admit it, she was right. He was not going to let her know that, however.

“I will get to that when I make sure you are all right,” he said calmly.

Perhaps a little too calmly for Hermione's comfort.

“Well, as you can see, I'm fine, so go away. I don't need you and you obviously don't need me, so what are you still doing here?” Hermione retorted.

It was clear that she was hurt and right now, he could not blame her.

“Hermione, I didn't mean it like that. I am sorry. It just…it would really help me sleep better if you calmed down and got some rest. Please?” he whispered, trying to remain as calm as possible.

He was sure that she did not know what she was doing to his mind by being so close to him, and she obviously did not care about what her present stress was doing to her wound.

If Hermione was in physical pain, she was not showing it. She was showing a different kind of pain, however.

“I have to calm down but you get to throw a temper tantrum. And suddenly you calm down and we're all supposed to go happily to our pillows and wait for the tooth-fairy.” Her sarcasm was evident. Somehow though, Harry failed to pick it up.

“Hermione, I…” Harry felt the need to explain himself, if only to make her feel better and hopefully get her to sleep, for he knew that her wound had to be suffering right now. But he did not know what to say to her, how to justify the actions that she obviously disapproved of. He thought of nothing except:

“Who's the tooth fairy?”

It was an honest question however. The Dursleys had never told him anything about a fairy and he somehow doubted that it was a character from Hogwarts: A History, although he would not put it past her.

“You know what? Never mind. Go away.”

“Are you going to sleep then?”

“What I do is no longer your business. Please leave.”

Once more, all Harry could do was let out a breath. She had succeeded in making him feel guilty and he knew that she knew as much. But apparently, she was not content with just that. He knew what she wanted. She wanted an answer that he could not give her. So he decided to succumb to the wishes she was stating at the moment, since that was something he could give her, despite his reluctance to do so.

“All right then, if that's what you want.”

“Thank you.”

“Good night Hermione.”

He thought he saw her wince before his legs started moving. But if it had been because of pain, Hermione did not even gasp. She just waved back at him, smiling thinly, sign that she was still angry and a clear indication that he was not getting off the hook that easily.

Hopefully, she would calm down, sleep, and be back on speaking terms tomorrow. And most of all, he hoped that her wound had not suffered much due to the stress brought on by her anger.

He spoke too soon, however.

In her anger, Hermione had not even noticed the pain. Nobody knew what caused it or how to cure it, but it appeared that every time Hermione was tense or under some kind of stress, Dolohov's spell would cause pulsating pain through her body. If this had been Dolohov's plan from the start, Hermione had to give it to him, because that was one of her greatest flaws; she was always under some kind of pressure due to the nature of her ambition and determination.

And the situation that she had been in for the past half hour certainly qualified as a high-stress one by her standards, for she could not bear the fact that her best friend was hiding things from her, especially being this close to the end of the war and so close to being without the protection from his mother.

It was when Harry took his leave that she felt the pain pulsating within her. She gasped as she grasped her abdomen, her legs giving in to the pulsations and sending her to the floor as a result.

Hermione let out an involuntary groan as she leaned against the door for support. She had been trying her best no to scream, not to alert Harry, but even her smallest movement did not go unheard by her best friend.

“Hermione!”

Harry came back running faster than lightning and before Hermione knew it, he was on the floor, one hand at the back of her neck and another one over hers in her abdomen, doing his best to steady her.

“Lean on me Hermione,” he commanded in a whisper.

She nodded and did as he asked, still clutching her abdomen.

Harry's arms circled around her delicate body frame as she put her head on his shoulder. He tightened his hold on her in hopes to press her against him, to counterbalance the pressure of the pain between him and the door. He could feel her tears wetting his shirt.

It was then that he started rubbing her back, making soothing noises in her ear. This was usually the only way she would relax aside from reading a book. And Harry was not about to leave her alone to go looking for one.

Finally, after a short while of soothing sounds and touches, Harry felt Hermione steady her breath, although she had, in the process of trying to subdue the pain, moved her arms from her abdomen to his neck, and she continued to hold him tightly.

“Better?” he whispered.

“Mm-hmm.” Hermione nodded.

“I'm letting go now,” Harry warned as he slowly let go of her embrace.

His eyes locked on hers, and he could still notice the bright sparkle on her eyes from the tears unshed along with her tear-stained face.

“This was what I didn't want to have happen,” he admitted, “You should have gone to sleep.”

“Do you think this would not have happened anyway?” Hermione retorted, still angry through her tears. Couldn't he see where the tears and the pain had really come from? “I'm sorry about your shirt. I'll clean it-”

“You know that doesn't matter to me,” Harry interrupted her a little harsher than he had intended just when she was reaching for her wand.

“Do I? I hardly know you anymore Harry,” she snapped back. Suddenly, he could clearly see that if it was for her, she would resume the discussion. He wouldn't have it.

“Enough Hermione. Up we go.” He took her in his arms again, his wand opening the door to her bedroom.

“Let go of me Harry. I can walk.” Although she was not yelling, her voice was a low indication that she was anything but calm. And that meant only one thing: the pain would return.

“No. Look what happened the last time I did that.”

“You really don't get it, do you?” Hermione's voice when from angry to hurt in a split second.

“Hermione, please calm down.” Harry let her down on her bed, trying to remove her robes. He would not rest until she was safely tucked in bed, never mind what he was feeling as his hands fumbled with her clothing.

“Stop that. I can get undressed on my own, thank you.” Hermione suppressed a moan of protest as his hands let go of her robes as if it had burned them. Why? Why did she feel like this even through her anger?

“Sorry. I just want you to go to bed,” Harry mumbled. In his haste to calm himself by knowing she would not feel pain for the rest of the night, he had forgotten that what he was doing blurred the boundaries that he had set for himself.

“And I want you to listen to me,” Hermione commanded.

“Hermione, please just stop.”

“Harry, yelling is not causing the pain. That is where you got it wrong. What causes pain is a stressful situation-”

“Which you are putting yourself through right now.”

“Wrong again Potter. What is putting me through stress right now is you. If I promise you that I'm going to sleep just so you leave this room, I still will not be able to sleep. It doesn't matter whether I'm arguing with you or not.”

“Your point?”

“My point is that I am stressed because you refuse to talk to me Harry!”

She was yelling again, but this time, Harry did not pay attention to her wince. He was suddenly angry again. Why couldn't she understand that this was for the best?

“What the hell do you want from me?!”

Hermione was taken aback by his statement, but her eyes remained locked with his. She would not let him intimidate her.

“You know what I want. I want my friend back, and most of all, I want you to stop pretending that this affects only you and that you can deal with your turmoil alone!”

“I'm fine!”

“Obviously you are not or you wouldn't be yelling Harry!”

“You started it!”

“No, you did, the day you decided to start avoiding me. Was I that bad of a friend Harry?”

Harry could see that her eyes had started to sparkle again. She was about to cry. And as much as he didn't want to give her the answer she sought, he couldn't bear to see her cry, especially when he was the one responsible.

“No, never. That is the problem,” he whispered.

“What is the problem Harry? Did I get too close for comfort?”

One glance at Harry's eyes told her that she had hit right on target.

“Well…that's what friends do, you jerk!” Hermione snapped. “And that's what you need right now.” She had obviously circulated around the point. But in his anger, Harry would not let her miss it once more.

In one swift movement, he grabbed her arm, pulling her to him, and lifted her white Hogwarts blouse, instantly setting sight on the blue-ish abrasion.

“This is where too close for comfort leads Hermione!” he screamed, trying to strike some sense into her.

Hermione's gasp at his sudden touch got repressed as she understood what was going on.

“Harry, this was not your fault.”

“It was Hermione! You nearly died because of me, and I will not let that happen again!”

“It was not your decision Harry! I chose to go with you, and I would do it again in a heartbeat!”

“I won't let you!”

Hermione scoffed. Did he honestly think he could stop her?

“Really now? Do you wish to test your wand against mine Potter? I am hurt, but I'll let you know that my magical abilities are still superior to yours.”

“Hermione, you don't understand-”

“Then make me Harry, because as far as I am concerned, I'm doing what friends do, and you need a friend right now.”

Harry sighed. She again had missed the point.

“I can't have you,” he whispered.

“What?”

“You'll get killed.”

“Harry, we'll fight together.”

“That's just it Hermione! I can't fight him knowing that you are in danger!”

“You can't do it alone!”

“I have to!”

“Why won't you let me help you?”

Hermione's mouth was still half-opened when Harry suddenly pulled her closer to his embrace.

He had to make her understand, and in his anger and frustration, he did not realize that he was going about it the wrong way.

His lips landed roughly on hers, brushing them angrily, but passionately. This was, after all, what he wanted, but could never have.

He was expecting her to break away any moment, so he resolved to make the best of what was left.

His tongue went out to tease her lower lip. And it was when she opened his mouth to him, her tongue meeting his hesitantly, that he realized what he was doing.

Exactly what he wasn't supposed to do.

He broke away, gasping.

“That's why,” he whispered, jumping out of her bed and exiting from the room without waiting for her reaction.

He had enough problems without waiting for what she was going to say or do. She was most likely going to slap him anyway, which is exactly what he wanted her to do. He wanted her to remind him that he could not have her.

But that kiss; it had been heavenly bliss, and the way her tongue…

“Oh shit,” he whispered, making his way to his own chamber.

-->

A/N: The response was overwhelming for a filler. Thanks guys! Here is the second installment, and it isn't over yet! Reviews are always appreciated! Enjoy!

Chapter 2: Confessions and Worries

Neither of them slept that night, Harry would find out later.

He had to admit, he got a little worried when he did not see her in the Gryffindor Common Room. She always waited for Ron and him to get to breakfast.

This time, she was neither here nor there. So he went to the next place where he had the highest chances of finding her.

His instincts did not fail. She was hiding in a library corner, and had apparently fallen asleep while reading.

He knew that she would want to probably avoid him after last night; he could not blame her. He had taken the liberty to kiss her and then had left in a hurry. And however he might justify it in his mind, telling himself that he was not supposed to be doing that, she did not deserve that. He knew her too well and he knew that she would fail to understand his reasons for avoiding her since she had gotten wounded, even though they had been pretty obvious last night.

His hand was trembling as it lay on her shoulder, squeezing it gently.

If she did not want to speak to him, that was fine with him. He deserved it. But he had to know that she was all right, that her wound was not causing pain right now. Or at least that is what he told himself, not admitting of course, that part of the reason he wanted her to look into his eyes was that he wanted to see last night's reaction. He wanted to know why she had returned his kiss.

As soon as his hand touched her shoulder, Hermione winced, letting out a moan, her body stirring.

His hand automatically went to lift her blouse. Her wound was probably bothering her.

He gasped as her eyes suddenly opened, her body falling numb against his, her breathing erratic. Her wound was at work.

He wrapped his arms around her instinctively, making soothing noises as he did so.

She took a deep breath, and Harry never felt tears wetting his uniform. That usually was not a good sign; it meant she was fighting the pain. Out of what reason, he did not know, but that usually caused her more stress. He did not want that for her.

She was the one that pulled away first, her tear stained face, bloodshot eyes, and the bags under them a sure sign that her night had been as bad as his.

He sighed. He had to apologize, sooner rather than later.

“Hermione, I-”

She did not let him finish however. No sooner had he started speaking, he felt her hand hit his face…hard.

“How dare you?” she whispered, the tears that she had not shed for the pain flowing freely down her face now.

His breath hitched. He had never seen her that mad, that hurt. And only he was to blame.

“Hermione, I'm-”

“Why did you do it?”

She undoubtedly was talking about the kiss, not his soothing gesture earlier. Harry was also aware that she was not completely relaxed, that her wound was still probably pulsating, because the relaxation and tears of defeat that regularly numbed the pain had not come, not because of the pain anyway. Harry resolved then, that he should do whatever it took to not heighten her stress that morning, which he was sure that her lack of sleep was intensifying as it was. But he had to be truthful, he owed her that. And that somber, almost vulnerable expression that her eyes were giving him, despite the streak of anger that had been present right after the slap, was his undoing. He was frankly tired of walking on eggshells, and looking at her that morning, he knew he would do whatever she asked. She was stressed out because of him, and last night, he hadn't done a good job of calming her down. He would make up for it as he apologized, knowing he probably could not do it without admitting why he did it in the first place. He had wanted to kiss her, had wanted to for ages. He had just rationalized that doing it, he was answering her question in some weird exercise of twisted logic. That was what had gotten him into this mess; because that wasn't the answer he was supposed to give her.

“Isn't it…obvious?” he whispered carefully. Would she get it? Hermione was smart enough to connect the dots. But he had forgotten how low she thought of herself when it came to matters that had nothing to do with her unbeatable intelligence.

“Obvious? Oh, I see.”

Harry flinched, both with relief and dread. Would she connect the dots, and if so, how would she react? It was a reaction he had waited for years to hear, but would it be what he wanted to hear?

Unfortunately for him, Hermione did connect the dots, her own way, and her reaction, suffice to say, took him by surprise.

“Did you think you could get off the hook like that, leave me arguing alone, just like you've done since the end of Fifth Year? I said I could take a hint Harry, but I am not about to let you insult me-”

“Hermione, I didn't-” Harry interrupted her. This was not quite going as he hoped. However, before he could explain himself, Hermione let him know that she was not finished. Not even close.

“Did you think that's what I wanted you for? Why I have stayed by your side all these years? Oh, maybe he'll notice me after nearly seven years by his side, will notice I'm a girl and then I can finally say to all my gossipy friends, if I can find them in my lengthy list, that is, Harry Potter kissed me!”

“Hermione, I didn't-” Alarms were going off in Harry's head. How on earth had she gotten that impression? And did she have “gossipy” friends? Since when? He was trying so hard to figure out where her reaction was coming from and how he had insulted her that he did not realize Hermione was using sarcasm. But she still had not finished.

“Well, that's a terribly shallow perception, but now that we're on the topic, let me just say what an amazing honor it was for Harry Potter to give me my first kiss.”

“You've never been-”

“And then run away as if a Dementor was chasing him. Let me tell you, that does great wonders for a girl's self-esteem,” Hermione finished whispering defiantly, meeting his eyes. She sighed and lowered her gaze. She could not look into his eyes and remain angry for long, not within the eyes that she could always get lost in. She gulped, trying to steady the torrent of emotions that was threatening to surface. She had tried, had tried her hardest, to make her concern seem as if it was purely a friendship, platonic concern. Had he seen right through her then? She did not even want to think of how stupid she must have seen if he did…

“But I thought…didn't you and Ron?”

“There was never a me and Ron.”

If Harry was not mistaken, Hermione sounded outraged. Or was it his imagination, hoping?

“We both know that the only reason that I am friends with Ron is because I am friends with you.”

Harry sighed. He had never seen it that way. Ron had been the first person he had met on the train to Hogwarts. And then, she had found her way into their compartment, and, he supposed, she considered Ron a friend by association, if she was putting it that way, because he, Harry, had been the first one she had met, had truly acknowledged.

He knew that Ron had fancied her, at least at one point. Now no one could tear Ron away from Luna now, much to Harry's unvoiced relief. However, before the blonde had caught Ron's eye, Harry figured that, much to his dismay, Hermione had given in to his charms. He always saw them together, whispering amongst themselves when they thought he was not around. To Harry, it had seen like such an intimate gesture…he felt a pang of guilt when he realized that he felt relieved that Hermione had not been touched by his best friend.

His silence prompted Hermione to continue speaking.

“I thought our friendship meant more to you. At least it meant a lot to me. I never realized you had that impression of me.”

“Hermione, I don't-”

“If you wanted me out, you could have just said so. I would have given you my help anyway. You are our only hope against Voldemort, you know that.” She sniffled, much to her dismay. She did not want for him to see her weak, this undone, because of him, especially now, when she might have possibly discovered the cause of his avoidance.

“Hermione-”

“Here is my latest research on the Horocruxes. I hope it helps,” she whispered, then stood up as fast as her body would let her.

Good thing Harry had Seeker reflexes.

“Hold it!” he grasped her wrist before she could take two steps away from him. It took all his power to not growl in fury. How could she think that? How could she think that he did not value her as a friend, when she was so much more to him? Had he been that bad of a friend?

Well, I think last night topped it. He had to apologize, but had to make her hear him for that to happen, an unsuccessful attempt so far.

“Harry, please let go,” she whispered. She just wanted to go to her room and bury herself against her pillow. She suddenly was too tired to be angry, too tired to fight, and frankly, too tired to care about what he was going to say.

“No. So far you have done all the talking and come up with some very interesting, if unfounded, assessments.”

“Unfounded? Hardly.” Hermione should have been outraged at his allegation, but after her confession, she was too hurt to feel anything else. After all, having him as a friend was better than not having him at all. And now she was on the verge of losing that too, although she supposed she had lost it ever since the beginning of Sixth Year, the beginning of his avoiding streaks…

“Yes, unfounded.” He refused to let go of her. This was his chance, his chance to explain it all, and he would, if he did not want to lose her. Now how to put it without screwing it up, admitting that he felt much more than friendship toward her? Admitting that his feelings had become clear the day he almost lost her in the Department of Mysteries? Admit that such was the reason for his avoidance?

“What else am I supposed to think Harry? You avoid me like the plague, then kiss me out of the blue in the middle of an argument, pull away when I kiss you back, and run away as if you were running from Voldemort's wand. I ask you again, what am I supposed to think? Am I supposed to thank my lucky stars for this?” Hermione whispered, trying to keep her tears at bay while also taking deep breaths to steady herself. She did not need her wound bothering her right now.

“I was scared Hermione,” he whispered, softening his hold of her wrist. It was not his smoothest statement, but it was honest. That was at least a good start; she deserved honest.

Hermione scoffed.

“Did you think I would have hexed you? Honestly Harry-”

“I wish you had.”

“What?” Hermione's eyebrows could have reached the library's ceiling. What did he mean? What could he mean?

“That way, perhaps I would not have the urge to do it again.” Harry wanted to hit himself mentally in the head. He was not supposed to say these things! What he wanted did not matter! What mattered was her safety. Besides, what would happen if she did not feel the same way? Would their friendship survive, after his unwise declaration?

“Harry, what are you saying?” she asked in a whisper. She had her suspicions, but she wanted him, needed him to say it straightforwardly.

Hermione was surprised at how suddenly Harry's hand snapped from her wrist. She could not help but look at him questioningly. One minute it seemed like he was opening up to her for the first time since the end of Fifth Year. Now, he seemingly appeared closed inside his own world once more.

“Go,” he whispered. It was safer that way, he realized, for her to draw her own conclusions, to despise him even. This whole thing had been a mistake, a careless mistake for which he had only his heart to blame. But he would keep her safe for as long as he could, even if he only gained her hatred for it.

“What? Harry-” she whispered pleadingly. But Harry knew this was for her own good, as much as her reaction pained him.

“You obviously don't want to be here with me. You asked me to let go of you earlier. And I cannot blame you. I apologize if it seemed like I used you. I never meant for that to be your impression Hermione. I care about you a great deal. And I know that you were not with me merely for a kiss. In fact, I know you did not want it. And it was selfish of me to do so.” That was as good as an apology as she was going to get. It was the truth, although not the complete version, but for her safety, all he was willing to give.

“Do what Harry?” Hermione was lost once more. Harry's turmoil was never easy to deal with, much less with this kind of awkward conversation. Not to mention she really wanted to be sure he regretted the kiss. Last night's kiss, despite never having been kissed before, did not feel cold or withdrawn , and she had dared to hope, hope that he had wanted it as much as she had.

“I know you didn't want me to kiss you.”

“I didn't?” Hermione raised an eyebrow. She had kissed him back. Hadn't he picked up on that?

“I am sorry I did it. But I didn't do it to cut you off.”

Hermione tried not to wince as the pain returned, although not because of her wand , but the kind that trampled her hope. He said he was sorry, but the end of the sentence, for her sanity's sake, was the one thing that could overcome the pain. Curiosity after all, was something that she always had had within her. To these days, Hermione did not know if such a thing was a blessing or a curse, and now seemed hardly the moment to debate the matter.

“Why did you do it, Harry?” she whispered.

“I wanted…I can't have you.”

“You keep saying that. What do you want? What can't you have?”

Seeking comfort, Harry had not noticed that he had taken hold of Hermione's hand again, and was now caressing her knuckles.

Hermione's hand gave an involuntary spasm as she felt Harry's subtle caress.

Suffice to say, that was all the response Harry needed to let her go.

She would never want him like that. How could she? All he ever did was get her in trouble.

And that would work well for him. Voldemort could not be allowed to get to her. She was too precious for him. And if that meant suppressing his longing for her, then so be it.

Easier said than done, however.

Again, Hermione looked at him questioningly when his hand jolted away from her, as if running away from a raging fire. It was then that she noticed he would not look at her.

“Harry, are you all right? What's going on?” Hermione sighed. This cat and mouse game was turning out to be slightly annoying. What wasn't he telling her?

“I better go,” he mumbled.

But Hermione would not budge. She was going to get to the bottom of this today, if she wanted to get any sleep tonight.

“No! Talk to me.” Her hand went to his jaw, trying to get him to raise his eyes, to gaze upon her once more.

He knew he should not be doing it, but he leaned involuntarily against her caress. Her hand was so soft, he could not resist. Her pull was like the sheer pull of gravity for him.

He sighed against her hand, his own palm coming to rest on it, caressing its back.

“What's wrong? Does your scar hurt?” Hermione was puzzled once more. One minute he was running away from her, the next he was caressing the back of her hand, his face glued to it.

She sighed. At least she had prevented him from running away. That was a start. Now how to convince him to confide in her the way he used to? If his scar hurt, that meant Voldemort was prowling once again inside him. And if that was the case, he needed help. No matter how much he kept denying it, he needed someone. And she wanted to be that someone. But she had to be tactful in her approach.

Hermione's other hand went to his forehead, moving his untidy hair away from the scar, her touch lingering.

Harry sighed, almost emitting an involuntary groan. Her touch was just as intoxicating as her lips had been. And he was enjoying every single minute of it, which was exactly what he should not have been doing. He had better get out now, while he still could.

Hermione noticed his hesitation, his sudden tenseness.

“Harry, please tell me what's bothering you. I just want to help,” she pleaded once more.

Suddenly, Hermione's breath hitched as her hand went out of Harry's cheek and straight to his lips.

Before he knew it, he was kissing her palm, his hand still holding the back of hers. Her pull was too strong. He did not want to get out of her sudden affectionate gestures, not now that he knew what she tasted like, like cinnamon and honey, not now that his longing had seemingly multiplied tenfold.

They were feather-light kisses, and his hand had a gentle hold of her own, giving her free reign to remove her hand at any time. But Hermione found that she did not want to.

In fact, she wanted more.

He only had time to look at her, a look of puzzlement evident in his eyes, before her lips had replaced her hand on his cheek, and then, went to part in his mouth.

Harry's body shifted from a dazed composure to a rigid, alert one. What was going on here?

One minute, he was resolved to get out of the library, of any place that brought him near her, and the next, his best friend, the girl he had wanted since before he could remember, had her lips parted against his.

Could it really be true? Could this really be happening?

He felt Hermione's hands hesitantly take hold of his shoulders before going to rest around his neck, her tongue hesitantly meeting Harry's lips.

And that was when he lost all control.

His hands found her waist, pulling her firmly against him while his mouth opened over hers.

He groaned as he felt Hermione whimper against his mouth, their tongues now dueling for control. He still could not believe it was happening, and despite his attempt to stay away from her, he found he lacked both the strength and the desire to pull away.

Their passionate embrace lasted as long as it could, until the lack of oxygen pulled them apart.

Hermione sighed, afraid to look into his eyes, afraid that he would run away, like last night. She settled for laying her head on his shoulder, her arms still around his neck. She should have thought about this, should have thought that their friendship, which was hanging by a thread as it was. It could go down in flames as she expressed her true feelings for the green eyed wizard. But his light kisses on her hand had been her undoing. She had wanted to kiss him ever since she had been brought back after been petrified during Second Year. It had been a yearning slowly building inside her, dismissed as a simple crush on his fame, on his admiring bravery, as the hero who had saved her from that Troll, but as the years passed by, she could not deny it any longer. And now she knew how he tasted, how the musky smell of parchment and fresh cut grass mingled with the taste of pumpkin juice and lemon drops, no doubt from Dumbledore's office, on his lips. Since her discovery, she had been dying to kiss him again, to see his proper response, and hoping he did not run away.

His arms went from her waist to her lower back, holding her as close as he could.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered.

“Don't be,” Hermione pleaded. Was he truly sorry to kiss her? Then why had he responded to her kiss?

“We can't do this. I can't do this.”

“Why-oh no. I made you cheat on Ginny,” Hermione whispered, pulling away. “It's best that I go.”

She could not believe that she had not thought of her dear red haired friend while she attempted to snog her boyfriend. The terrible feeling of guilt swept upon her, especially since she realized she was dying to kiss Harry again. That was why she had to get away. She would not be responsible for ruining their relationship.

“No, Hermione don't.” He grabbed her wrist again.

“What now?” Hermione turned around, fresh tears staining her face. Why was he making this more difficult than it already was?

“This is not about Ginny,” he whispered. He felt horrible about the way he easily dismissed his girlfriend, but it was true. Hermione had been right last night; he did not want to be with Ginny. And now he would admit it to the object of his affection, her kiss giving him courage.

“You are still with her Harry, and she doesn't deserve this. I'm sorry.”

“You are right. She doesn't. I'll break up with her.”

“What? Why?” His statement truly caught Hermone off guard. Could it be? Could he care for her as much as she cared about him?

“As you say, she doesn't deserve this.”

“I know.” Hermione tried to push the pain away once more. He had not said he cared about her as more than a friend, merely that he felt like a cheater and that his girlfriend did not deserve infidelity. A noble gesture, but not what she wanted to hear, much to her dismay and overwhelming sense of guilt. “That's why I'm leaving and apologizing to her first thing-”

“Hermione, let's go over this one more time. I DON'T want you to leave, and I'll talk to Ginny later. I'll give her the treatment she deserves, but I'm not running away from you this time.”

“All right,” Hermione whispered, fresh hope welling inside of her before she could stop it. . “Are you going to tell me what's been going on then?”

“It's you. It's always been you,” Harry whispered in resignation. There was no hiding the truth now, not after he had kissed her like that, not after he admitted he would break up with Ginny for her.

“What do you mean, Harry?” Hermione whispered, afraid he would correct himself at any moment.

“I tried to deny it, I really did. After all, what kind of girl would want the guy who always gets her in trouble? The guy who almost…killed her?”

“Oh Harry-” Hermione tried to reassure him, reassure him that the incident at the Department of Mysteries had not been his fault, but he would not let her speak.

“Then, I realized, it didn't really matter, because even if I managed to save you, I'm afraid it's Neville who deserves the credit, however, but even if you were saved, somebody else would make sure that next time you didn't get so lucky.”

“Harry-”

“It was then that I realized that I had to make sure there wouldn't be a next time.”

“Harry-”

“But I knew what you would say. Just what you said last night, you would do it again in a heartbeat. You are so amazing Hermione. You put about other people first, ahead of your own safety. But you forget that by caring about other people, the one that becomes vulnerable is you.”

`Harry, please-”

“So you see, I had to take care of you, to make sure he didn't touch you, because you mean so much to me you see-”

“Harry-” Hermione was getting too impatient. She wanted to listen to him, but he was punishing himself. She could not let that happen, not even if this was the confession she had wanted to hear for so long.

But Harry wasn't giving up.

“-And he knows that. I have seen it in my nightmares. That's why Occlumency is such a drag. I just can't get you out of my mind. So I figured the safest way to keep you alive was to shut you out; make you think I just didn't care about you anymore. That way, someday, I would begin to believe it myself. And I figured that it would be better for you to be mad at me, but safe, than happy with me, if you ever could be, and dead.”

“Oh Harry-”

“I'm sorry Hermione; I'm so sorry. You deserve so much more, but I have lost so many people in my lifetime, so many people that were and still are so dear to me. I just…couldn't lose you too.” Harry lowered his head. Hermione could tell that he just did not want her to see him cry; something to do with the male sex being invincible. But he did not need to pretend in front of her.

“It's okay,” Hermione whispered, enveloping him in a hug before he even had a chance to react.

His arms tightened around her, as if holding on to her for dear life, and he let out a shaky breath, clear sign that he had been shedding tears.

“You'll never lose me,” she whispered. “I'll be with you every step of the way.”

“That's just it! I don't want you to be. It's my fight.” Harry struggled to make a clear statement when his emotions were a mess. He had to finish Voldemort and he had to do so alone. He did not want to lose anyone else, much less her.

“That's where you are wrong Harry. It was never your fight. That's why Voldemort is losing, that is why he is desperate. He's got people with him out of fear, not genuine appreciation. You, on the other hand, you have people who love you, and he doesn't understand that.”

“And look where it's gotten them so far!” His scream got muffled as his head was lying on her shoulder. His back would surely hurt later, but right now he did not care. He just wanted to hold her close. He did not know when this would happen again, or even if she felt the same way he did about her. He did not want her kissing him just because she felt sorry for him.

“They died for a cause, and they would do it again without hesitation. And so would I,” she whispered, taking the liberty to kiss his cheek before she became fully aware of what she was doing.

He was still with Ginny for Merlin's sake!

But she did not get a chance to back away and apologize, because as soon as she became aware that her lips could not be where they presently were, Harry's mouth was on hers.

His kiss was not demanding, it was a soft feather-light caress, but a firm one at that. Nevertheless, she realized that she could break it at any time. And she should have, given the fact that the “talk with Ginny” had never taken place. And where was this leading?

Could Harry really love her or was he so overwhelmed by the prospect of facing Voldemort that he was looking for comfort? One thing was for sure: when his tongue hesitantly asked for permission, she could not refuse.

Hermione moaned when his tongue caressed hers and her noise made Harry's heart skip a beat. He could not believe that she was reacting this way to him, to his kiss, and his caresses.

But the thrilling sensation soon got replaced by a sense of dread. What if Voldemort were to read his thoughts right now? He had practiced Occlumency every day for the past months. Ever since she had been hit in the Department of Mysteries, he would not go through a single night without engaging in the practice of this exhausting magic. Hermione however, was the very thing that could make him vulnerable. And while right now he felt like throwing caution to the winds and holding her closer, as far as he was concerned, Hermione could do anything and everything she wanted to him, he would not let her take that risk, not for his sake.

He broke the caress as soon as he found the willpower to do so, but that did not prevent him from enveloping her in another hug, kissing her forehead as he did so.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered once more.

“You keep apologizing. What for? Don't. It was my fault to begin with,” she replied, her breath tickling his neck. She was aware that she had given him the first kiss. But he had said he wanted her, didn't he? Why was he apologizing for? Didn't her kisses speak for themselves?

“I cannot do this to you.”

“Cannot do this to me? Last time I checked, I was kissing you back. You were not doing anything to me. At least anything I did not want,” Hermione snapped. Apparently, he was as thick as ever, so she had to be bold.

“You should not want this from me.” He meant it. If Voldemort were to find out…

“I'm afraid it's a little too late for that Harry. The question now should be, do you want it? What do you want from me?” Hermione asked carefully. He had told her his feelings, but only had told her that he cared for her. She wanted something more, a reassurance that they were more than friends, and that she was not someone he would kiss whenever he was seeking comfort.

“Don't ask me that,” he whispered. He would not budge. He could not; he could not lose her precisely because he wanted her so much. Yet, it was too much of a temptation. She was offering him what he had wanted for so long.

“Well tough Harry, because I am asking you. It's the least you could do, don't you think?” Hermione crossed her arms.

She had the incredible urge to run to his arms again and hold on to him for dear life. Yet, she had to know how he felt and, whether she liked his answer or not, she was going to get it out of him.

“What do you want?” she whispered once more.

“Hermione-”

“Did you just kiss me for the hell of it?”

“What? I-” That's what she thought, after all the kisses they had shared that afternoon?

But Harry never got a chance to express his outrage at her sudden outburst.

“There you are! I should have known! Did you need help with your Potions essay? Hermione, don't you ever get tired of this?”

Hermione watched as Ginny Weasley put her arms around the man who had been kissing her just minutes earlier.

“I don't know why I bother,” Hermione snapped, smiling thinly, but Harry could see that her smile did not reach her eyes and he could bet that her answer had nothing to do with the supposed Potions essay, which, he realized with a groan, he had to worry about later.

“Harry, let's go or we are going to be late,” Ginny warned him.

Harry sighed. So much for Hermione's answer.

“Where are we going?” Harry asked.

“Remember? We promised Ron and Luna we would meet them for lunch at the Leaky Cauldron. To tell you the truth, I was hoping we would get to Hogsmeade earlier. We could have gone to that cozy little tea house-”

“I have to go,” Hermione snapped once more. Truth be told, she could not bear to watch this little exchange for another minute. Not when it should have been her in his arms.

“Hermione-” Harry called after her. He had to tell her that their conversation was not finished, not by a long shot.

But Hermione was out the door without even saying goodbye before Harry had time to open his mouth.

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A/N: Hey guys, sorry for the delay! I've got various writing projects I'm working on. Thanks for your patience and I'll try and update faster this time. Thanks to those of you who reviewed, and please don't forget to leave feedback for this one. Short, but hopefully worth the wait!

Chapter 3: Surrender

Hermione could not concentrate. Why would he do it? Why would he kiss her and tell her all those things and then go back to Ginny?

She sighed, closing Hogwarts: A History with a thud and putting it on the bedside table. She should not have kissed him. He had a girlfriend and, whether he cared about her or not was not her concern. They were together and that meant, as much as she despised the idea, that Harry was taken and she had no right to do what she had done with another woman's man.

She was just getting into bed when her door burst open.

“Expelliarmus!” she screamed without a second thought, her wand at the ready while she turned around. If she was not in the defensive, she should have realized that in Hogwarts, she was safe, but a night without sleep and her wound at the Department of Mysteries had taught her to better be safe than sorry. Whoever it was, would get either apologies or a binding spell after she was through.

She had been elected Head Girl, half a year early. The previous Head Girl had to transfer. because her father had been assigned to the Russian Ministry of Magic. Professor McGonagall had known how badly she had wanted the badge, and according to Professor McGonagall, because Hermione would never believe it herself, she was the choice for Head Girl once she reached her final year. Therefore, the faculty agreed that she might as well start early instead of training a new girl for only half a year. Of course, Hermione had been more than thrilled to accept. Her room had been a welcomed bonus away from the gossipy voices of Parvati and Lavender. She had no roommates and people who wanted to see her usually knocked, although she would have frowned if someone had knocked at this late hour. Midnight was not usually time for a social call, all the more reason to utter the spell as soon as she heard her door open, not to mention she did not remember mentioning her password to anyone.

Harry didn't even blink. With a wave of his hand, Hermione's spell got deflected.

Hermione gasped, both for the unexpected visitor and for the type of advanced magic Harry had just performed. She was just learning how to do that!

“Ha-”

She did not have even time to react.

Before she knew it, she was pinned to a wall and Harry's lips were on hers.

Thank Merlin the door was closed, the fact that it was after curfew and the compromising position that Harry had her in at the moment would not have made for a very happy faculty. She was not going to complain about it, however.

She could not help but moan as her arms went around his neck. She knew she should not be doing this, but that did not mean she did not want it.

“Do you honestly think anyone could kiss you just for the hell of it, Hermione?” he whispered, but his lips were on hers again before she had a chance to answer.

“Harry.” She tried to get his attention in-between kisses, but her call ended up sounding more like a moan. She could not help the feelings that were taking over her body at that moment. His touch was sending wonderful jolts through her body, which were intensifying as he got closer to her frame.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispered, moving on to the skin of her neck, which made her let out a louder moan. “How could I not want to kiss you?”

“Ginny?” It took all of Hermione's mental strength to muster that single thought. Truthfully, she did not want the touching to end and she was well aware that the red head's name could ruin the moment, but what she had said that afternoon still stood; she did not want to be Harry's plaything.

“Over.” Harry reassured her, pulling her more tightly against him, if that was even possible at this point, as his lips wandered deeper down her throat.

“And…you?” Hermione muttered once more, cursing the fact that her concentration and focus were nowhere to be found right now.

“I'm right where I want to be,” he whispered once again.

“Harry.” Hermione sighed. As much as she wanted to do this, her rationalization was kicking in.

He had just broken up with his girlfriend. His state of mind was not the most stable and she was not sure if he was doing this because he genuinely wanted to be with her or because he was seeking comfort.

And her mind chose to believe the latter.

“ `Mione, please, you're all I've ever wanted,” he whispered against her skin.

“What?” Hermione practically screamed; the effects that his lips were having on her temporarily forgotten. What was the catch?

Suddenly she was hearing what she wanted to hear practically since first year, although she did have “different” reasons for admiring him then. She just thought it was just a thrill that came with knowing and being able to hang out with “The Boy Who Lived.” Over the years though, Hermione had found out that such a “thrill” had never truly existed. Harry was just the boy she wanted.

Pity she would never have him. How could he love someone like her, a plain Jane that spent her life literally surrounded by books?

Yet, that seemed to be changing right now, as it became all too apparent that Harry had no intention of letting her go at the moment.

However, her best friend distanced himself from her, although he never let go of her hips, still having her effectively pinned to the wall shortly after her scream.

“Did…did I do anything to upset you?” Harry whispered carefully.

The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. Did she not want him as much as he wanted her?

This afternoon, it had seemed like she did.

But what if she did not? What if she just wanted to comfort him? He didn't want that. He would rather hear her tell him the truth, and if she did not…

Better for him. Less of a reason for Voldemort to hurt her. But that did not mean it would cease to hurt him.

“Harry, did you mean what you said just now?” her voice was a mere tense whisper, which did not give him much hope. But he would give her an answer. She deserved it, especially because he had planned to give it to her that afternoon before his girlfriend, now his ex, had walked into the library. He realized he had been a coward, but Ginny deserved a clean breakup and breaking up with her in front of Hermione would have embarrassed both of them. Therefore, he would give his answer to Hermione now.

“Of course I did. I would never lie to you Hermione. It's true, you were right. I was with Ginny because I wanted you so bad it scared me, and it still does. It does because I cannot protect you if I am this close to you. And you mean so much to me; I just cannot lose you,” Harry whispered, kissing her forehead.

“You won't,” Hermione whispered back.

“He knows. I know he does-”

“Then we will fight together.”

“Hermione.” Harry sighed, but she interrupted him before he could say what she knew he was going to say.

“Promise me you will never push me away again Harry.”

“Hermione.” He knew he could not promise that, as much as he wanted to make her happy.

“Please Harry, let me help you. I love you. I cannot bear it when you push me away.”

Harry's palm came to rest at her cheek.

“I love you too Hermione. That's why I cannot afford to lose you.”

“You won't, but you will if you push me away,” Hermione warned.

“Hermione-” Harry sighed.

“Don't Harry. If that is your intent, let me just say I will not make it easy for you.”

“You never have,” Harry chuckled.

Hermione sighed, hugging him.

She could not believe this was happening. Harry loved her, finally! It had taken him long enough.

Harry held on to her for dear life. This was what he had wanted ever since Third Year. He could not believe he was so daft that he had not realized it before; he had only dismissed her as gratefulness and admiration for everything she had done for him, and what she had done for Sirius that night. If he had not been so daft, he could have had her in his arms long before this.

But better late than never.

Hermione kissed his cheek and he could not help but plunge his mouth into hers in a fiery kiss, one that would express all his love for her.

Hermione moaned as his tongue dueled with hers.

“Will you stay?” Hermione whispered against his forehead.

“Do you want me to?” Harry whispered back, looking into her chocolate eyes.

Hermione smiled, kissing him once more.

“Do you think you can figure that out on your own Harry?” Hermione whispered between kisses.

“I'll try,” Harry whispered, his voiced ragged with desire at this point.

“Good boy.”

Harry smiled as he took Hermione's lips in his once again, pressing harder against her.

He should have stopped. He was doing, after all, what he had vowed not to do. He knew it was best for her to be as far away as possible, at least until Voldemort was no longer a threat, and not even Divination, not that he ever had much respect for it, it was just an easy class after all, not even that could help him figure out when that would be.

The power of his mind over what his heart and body truly desired at this point however, waned the minute Hermione's legs tangled around his waist, as she pressed back against his hardness.

Before he knew it, they had gone from the wall to the bed, where he laid Hermione effortlessly, falling on top of her seconds after as she held on to his shirt.

And after many months of fighting the war between his heart and mind, his heart finally won, although he was sure, Hermione had a lot to do with that.

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A/N: I'm sorry for the lack of updates! But hopefully this has been worth the wait. I estimate about two to three chapters left, hopefully all worth it. Thanks so much for the reviews! I'll try to respond to them this time, so please keep them coming. And without further ado, enjoy!

Disclaimer: Everyone knows that these characters are JKR's. If they were mine, we would have seen a different ending. Do we need to go there?

Chapter 4: Awake

Harry could not help but squint his eyes as the morning light greeted him. He immediately, on instinct, just as he did every morning, reached for his glasses. However, he found the task to be impossible at this point, for the night table was blocked by Hermione's body, which was, he observed rather smugly, snuggled comfortably on the side of his chest, his arm draped around her while her head rested on his shoulder.

He sighed, letting his sense of smell bask in her sweet cinnamon scent.

He could not remember for how long he had wanted this. Last night had been…he could not even put it into words. Hermione was finally his; he had made her his own.

He sighed, his mind recalling the pleasant, passionate memories of last night, the feeling of her under him…over him…beside him…her kisses and touches…to say that it had been perfect was a huge understatement. Perfect paled in comparison to how he was feeling right now. He knew that after last night, he would never want to sleep alone again. To think that he could produce such reactions from the woman that his heart had longed for was priceless.

Harry chuckled as he remembered Hermione in Victor's arms at the Yule Ball…the ghostly monster of jealousy had immediately snuck in and that night, he finally admitted to himself that his heart had been taken, despite the fact that he decided not to act on his feelings because Ron fancied her during that time. That it took him two more years to get what he wanted, well, that was a thing of the past now.

But what about Voldemort? So much for the good news…he would come after her, especially now that he was vulnerable to her, no matter how much Occlumency he practiced.

Yet, now that he had expressed his feelings for her last night, how could he push her away? The mere thought of it brought immense dread to his heart.

But he had almost lost her once and not even Ron had been able to stand him that horrible week. He had not eaten, had not slept, and had absolutely refused to leave Hermione's side. Madam Pomfrey had gotten annoyed with him more than once, when she had to basically kick him out of the Hospital Wing when a procedure was due.

Harry sighed once more. No matter how much his heart protested, he knew that he had to do something. This was his fight. He was not going to let Hermione risk her life a second time, much less because of him. If something happened to her, he knew he wouldn't be able to…

“Don't you dare.”

Harry's eyes opened wide as Hermione's sweet voice filled his ears. Only it did not sound so sweet at this point.

He sighed, both with anticipation and dread as he prepared to look into the face of his best friend, who had been his just hours earlier.

“Hermione,” he whispered, but did not move.

“Look at me Harry,” she commanded. There was no tenderness or pleading tone in her voice, but a firm authority that he knew his heart could not refuse after what she had given him. Even before she had been his, he could not deny her anything; what made him think he could start now?

“I'm sorry,” he said, then turned to glance at her.

She was a sight to behold. Her swollen lips, her wavy hair all over the pillow…she was simply a goddess, his goddess. Her eyes, despite their sheer determination, held a glint of happiness, a peacefulness that he had never seen there before.

Hermione sighed.

“No you're not,” she stated simply. There was no anger, just affirmation.

He smiled. She knew him better than he knew himself sometimes. Of course he was not sorry. How could he be? This was, after all, what he had wanted for so long. But he had to be strong, for her sake. He could not risk losing her, not when he had come so close a year ago.

“You are so beautiful,” he stated.

He did not want to fight with her, not when his mind was relishing the beautiful memories of last night, and not ever. Not when he could spend, frankly, the rest of his existence imagining the feeling of her beneath him, enraptured, and emitting all those sweet noises that his touches provoked. But apparently, Hermione was not in the mood to be flattered.

“Don't give me that crap, Harry,” she snapped, the peacefulness in her eyes replaced by the fire of determination, of defiance, as her body tensed against his.

There was no way that Hermione would allow him to pull away now, not when she had given her virginity to him, like she had wanted since she was old enough to think about sex. Now he was hers, she would not relinquish him, would not let him think this was just a spur of the moment, not when he had said he loved her last night.

She winced, the pain in the abrasion giving a little pulse through her body. That, combined with the soreness that she felt in her lower area, a result of her vigorous activities last night, did not particularly make Hermione a happy camper. Not that she was sorry, she was after all, happier than any previous moment in her life. But she would make sure to keep it that way. Not to mention she would pull Dolohov's head out with her own hands when she finally got to him, but that was a story for another time.

Unfortunately, now that Harry knew her body as well as her mind and her heart, her small reaction had even smaller chances of escaping him.

Harry sighed, half amused, half worried as he pulled her on top of him, pressing her against him to counterbalance the pain and stroking her lower back as he kissed her forehead. As far as he knew, it was his compliment that had started this.

“I'm fine,” Hermione muffled against the crook of his neck, where she had placed her head as she pressed her abdomen further against his body. Harry could feel her trembles, the beginning of her tears against his chest. At least she was not resisting the pain today.

“Let it go, `Mione,” he whispered tenderly.

Suddenly, Harry's eyes opened wide as Hermione pressed further against him, and the thin layer of sweat that was forming in his chest as a result of the friction did not help matters. They were after all, still under the blankets of Hermione's bed, no cotton between them to absorb the heat that the bodies were giving off. And he sure hoped that Hermione's throbbing pulsations were going away, because his body was reacting prematurely to what should have been an effort to counterbalance her pain.

To make matters worse, in Harry's point of view in terms of arousal instead of the calmness he was supposed to radiate in order to soothe his best friend, Hermione's lips landed roughly against his, making his body react that much faster. He was not going to complain at the moment however. Yet, he still was somewhat lost as to how Hermione's pain was subsiding. If he was aroused, she had to feel something too, or at least that was what he hoped.

He blinked as he felt a tiny drop of water hit his cheek. He heard Hermione sigh ever so slowly before breaking the kiss. She let out a breath and settling against his chest once more. The pressure was no longer there; her body was finally relaxed against his. She just refused to settle anywhere but on top of him.

A sure sign that he did not mind her chosen position in the least, Harry's hands did not stop caressing her lower back, an effort began when he felt the first pulsations of her body against him.

“Better?” he whispered.

“Mm-hmm.” Hermione nodded.

“What was it this time? What was the breaking point Hermione?” Harry whispered once more.

Ever since they had discovered what triggered the pulsations, stress, they had been keeping track of what exactly was the point of high stress, the moment that the body could not hold off any longer, and would exude painful pulsations through the scar of her wound and its surroundings. Harry knew Hermione could not just relax, but perhaps discovering the trigger points would help her learn to control the pulsations better.

“You,” Hermione answered in resignation.

Harry sighed. He had expected a similar answer, given the fact that she winced when he was trying to give her the compliment. He had a general idea of where she was going with this, and frankly, he did not want to go there. He was knee-deep in trouble as it was. He would isolate her from trouble, keep her protected, whatever the cost, and he wished she could understand that. However, if he chose to avoid it now, it was bound to come up later, if she did not bring it up first.

Yet, before he could explain his frame of thinking, Hermione beat him to the punch.

“Look Harry, I know what you're thinking,” she began, whispering. She did not want to make him angry, and this conversation was eerily familiar, reminiscent of what had happened two days ago when she had confronted Harry about his isolation. And although a kiss to halt the argument did not hold the same meaning as it did when Harry first tried the gesture, Hermione wanted to finish the argument first, and kiss later.

“Do you?” Harry glanced up at her, and that was when she noticed the reason why she was so comfortable. She was still on top of him, but his hands had stopped the subtle massage on her lower back. Reluctantly, she moved to the side of the bed, facing him. If she stayed where she was, playing with Little Harry, which was not so little, might become too much of a temptation.

“Right now, you're thinking of the best way to get out of here without hurting my feelings, without making me feel that I was taken advantage of, and the best way of telling me that this can never happen again because you want to keep me from getting wounded the way I was at the Department of Mysteries. Not to mention the war you are waging against yourself because you want this as much as I do. Am I close?” she could not help but chuckle at the amount of knowledge in her mind that was solely devoted to him. She loved him, always had, and could not, and frankly refused, to deny it any longer.

Harry sighed, and couldn't help himself, reaching out his hand to touch Hermione's wild curls. She had him spot on, but what else could he expect from his best friend, the owner of his heart?

“I wish I could tell you differently,” he replied, his hand reaching under the blanket to settle his hand on her wound. Hermione let out a breath. His touch, especially on her bare skin, could send wonderful sparkles of electricity through her body, more so now that she knew where his wonderful caresses could lead. But she couldn't go there, not yet.

She smiled thinly, putting her own hand on top of his. She let out a breath, afraid of what she was about to do, to ask, but she could not go where she wanted otherwise. Her nervous gesture earned her a questioning glance from Harry.

“Are you all right? Is it your wound again?” He made to remove his hand from her body, but her own kept it pressed there.

“I'm fine.” She looked at him, her eyes displaying full vulnerability. “Harry, do you love me?”

-->

A/N: Guys! I am so unbelievably sorry about this. I can only hope this chapter makes up for it. But there isn't so much fluff, so be warned. However, I must confess I got an excuse this time: I got into writing school! So I've been working really hard with that, since it's a two year program. And I hope to become a published author soon. I will keep you posted. So, for people who think dreams don't come true, start believing differently. If you really want it and work hard enough, it will come find you when you're ready. And although the program does not guarantee me publication, I'm hallway there! So thanks to you, my fans, for never giving up on me, especially people who have followed from my first not so good stories, at least compared to the latest ones. .There's always room for improvement, right? I got to say that this chapter was inspired by a review submitted by an excellent writer, Harry 85, who said that it didn't matter if Hermione was or wasn't with Harry, she was still a Muggle Born, so Voldemort would go after her. And thou are correct.

There is also something else that caught my attention. Someone thought that Harry using wandless magic makes Harry look ubiquitous and it represents power for power's sake. I agree with this to an extent. Here's my reason, and I hope you guys understand. My problem is with the wands. I've been obsessed with magic since before HP and in my opinion, you don't need a wooden stick to channel it. It's JKR's creative license and I respect it, but I felt I had to express my understanding of magic too, sorry. Not to spoil it (I already did), but we will also see Hermione using it. Ron? Let's not push it. I have always thought Hermione is more powerful than Harry, he just gets more attention.
I hope you guys understand. Thank you for your feedback, and please take the time to review this one.

Chapter 5: Answers

Harry's breath hitched. He should have been angry, especially because of what they had shared just last night, but the vulnerable look in her eyes was telling him that she was scared.

“Hermione,” he chose his words carefully.

She was asking this question for a reason, and he did not want his words to come back and bite him in the arse later. The hand that was not in her wound went to caress her cheek.

“How can you ask me that, after what we gave to each other last night?” he whispered.

“I need to hear it,” she answered, the hand not on top of his coming to pull his hair away from his face, settling on his scar.

“Hermione, I love you more than anything. Although I wish things were different, nothing is going to change how I feel about you.”

Hermione sighed, a lone tear escaping to her cheek. She had no doubts after last night, but hearing him say it was…amazing. She had wanted to hear those words coming from his mouth practically since their Second Year at Hogwarts, although she would never admit it out loud, and much less to the object of her affection.

If she only knew Harry had felt the same for more or less the same number of years.

His words gave her confidence to keep talking. After his revelation, she was going to make sure nothing, especially not Voldemort, would keep them apart.

“They don't have to be different,” Hermione whispered.

Harry glanced at her, turning his attention away from her curls and her wound. He could see her mind at work, and should have said something. He did not want her to get hurt on his account again, after all. Yet, Hermione beat him to the punch.

“Look Harry, I love you. I think I always have.”

So much for not admitting her secret. Hermione felt however, that her green eyed friend needed to hear it. Consequently she continued with her confession.

“No matter how much you push me away, that's not going to change. But there's one other thing that I can't change. I'm a Muggle Born.”

“Hermione, I don't care-” Harry mistakenly thought that Hermione believed her status would play a role in his feelings for her.

“I know you don't Harry, but he does. That's why I bring it up. See? Even if I do not surrender to my feelings for you, I'm still in danger, because my blood is tainted. And after everything we have been through together, your distance from me will prove his point, you care about me, and he knows it's a different kind of love than the one you have for Ron. If anything Harry, he's expecting you to be predictable, and try to distance yourself from Ron, and me. He wants you to face him alone. Your mood changes when you are by yourself, the loneliness you have felt since your parents died, since they killed Sirius, surfaces to a more vulnerable level, so he can mess with your mind. That's the only way to bring you down.” Hermione knew it hurt him when she brought his family up, but as a vulnerability, it had to be dealt with.

“And I suppose your magical abilities and my lack thereof have nothing to do with this?” Harry asked her, amusement evident in his voice. She had apparently given a lot of thought to this.

“Well, my magic stems from knowledge, yours is more instinctual, willpower, like what you did to my spell last night,” Hermione chuckled.

“I'm sorry, I didn't meant to scare you.” Harry almost looked ashamed. Hermione put her finger on his lips, while she shook her head.

“Harry, I'm not looking for an apology, I'm just trying to compliment you. Besides, don't you dare feel sorry for anything that happened.” Hermione winked at him, getting closer to his body. “I'm just saying there is no use comparing our magical abilities, since he is going to underestimate both of us anyway. My point is is that you're not going to fight alone, and that no matter how much you try to protect me by pulling yourself away from me, I'm still going to be in danger, and I refuse to be in danger and be away from you.”

Once more, Hermione's finger was on his lips before he could speak. Her lips momentarily replaced her finger with a light kiss.

“You won't win this Harry. I know what you're going to say, it's for my own good. That's just who you are. You spend so much time worrying about others; you forget to take care of yourself. Let me do that. I know I can't replace what you've lost, but I can offer you comfort, a friend to lean on. And you need that.” Hermione shrugged.

She knew that there was not much she could offer that could make up for what he had lost, and she was not going to pretend there was anything that could compare to his parents or Sirius, but she would make sure to be there for him. Someone had to. And she was glad to be there.

“Hermione, you've done that, always done it. And I am sorry that I've never said how grateful I am-”

“Hey, hey, what are friends for?” Hermione whispered, her hands caressing his face once again.

She was not doing this to make him feel bad. Again, she was glad to be there. He just needed to hear it.

Harry however, suddenly frowned.

“Friends. Just…friends?”

Hermione chuckled.

Finally, she was getting through to him. And not even Dolohov would ruin it this time. Voldemort could go screw himself, or Bellatrix could do it for him, she didn't care which. He would not mess with Harry anymore. Riddle would just have to find something else to do with his time. And Bellatrix was just a suggestion.

“You tell me, Potter.”

“How are we going to tell Ron?”

“You mean when. Between Quidditch and Luna, he has no time!” Hermione laughed. She still loved her ginger haired best friend to pieces. But she would lie if she said she hadn't noticed a change from a trio to a duo the last few months, not that she minded, and least of all now. Harry was talking to her again.

And she would make sure it stayed that way.

She smiled, finally closing the gap between her and her former best friend.

Ron would welcome them with open arms, she was sure of it. Whom she was worried about however, was Ginny.

Nevertheless, their other friend would have to wait, because now, Hermione was ready to indulge in what she had wanted to do since she woke up that morning and found Harry next to her.

Kissing Harry's chin seemed like a good start, and before she knew it, she was lying on her back against the mattress, Harry paying extra special attention to her throat.

It seemed he did not have a problem with how things turned out.

She sighed as she passed her hands through his hair.

Nope, if Voldemort was not going to come between them, then Ginny would definitely stay out of their way; she would make sure of it.

She was sorry about Harry's timing, of course. But she would never apologize about loving her best friend, especially if he loved her back.

****

A sunny afternoon found Hermione in the common room, furiously scribbling in her parchment while she finished her History of Magic homework.

With Quidditch practice keeping both her friend and her now boyfriend busy, there was no better time to get things done. Besides, she had the distinct impression she would not get anything done tonight anyways.

Hermione blushed furiously as the memories of last night and that morning came flowing freely into her mind once again.

Luckily for her, she was the only student who, it seemed, worked on homework Friday afternoons.

But she would have been better off in her bedroom.

“You couldn't just deal with it, could you? You had to steal him away from me.”

Hermione gasped as Ginny suddenly spoke. Her arms crossed, her foot tapping the red-colored Gryffindor carpet, the redhead looked ready to pull off something more than her famous Bat-Boogey Hex.

“Hello Ginny,” Hermione said curtly. A temper tantrum just would not cut it in this situation. And she knew the redhead, as much as she loved her, she was Ron's sister after all, thrived on drama.

“Are you going to answer me?”

Hermione bit her lip apprehensively. She really did not want to upset her more than she was. But she would not display fear either.

“Answer what? It's a statement, albeit a wrong one at that. I am sorry that you lost Harry Ginny, don't get me wrong, but I will not apologize for loving him. I have, for a long time, and I stepped aside, for you, because I thought he really wanted to be with you. But if he loves me too, then there's no reason to stay apart.”

Ginny scoffed, and Hermione was finding it very difficult to keep her temper in check. She had never been one to get carried away, temper-wise, in petty problems, such as this one. But if Ginny kept pushing, she wouldn't make any promises.

“You think he loves you? He has seen the way you look at him, and he likes the attention. He's Harry bloody Potter after all. Once he has gotten his fill, he'll go back to being just friends. You'll see.”

“Whatever Ginny. I understand you're mad, but let's not push it, all right?”

“Yeah right. Some friend you are. How you got him, I'll never know, bushy haired like you are, always buried in books.”

Hermione just sighed, pursing her lips while tightening her hold on her feather. Ginny just wanted to pick a fight, and she would not give her reason to. Yet, her task was getting more complicated by the second.

“You probably made him feel guilty about that wound again, didn't you?”

Hermione stared at her, her mouth still pursed, but her breaths coming in short hyperventilation.

How dare she? How dare she imply that she had used her wound when Harry hadn't wanted her precisely because of that? She had gone for Harry that night. And just as she had told their mutual object of discussion, she would do it again in a heartbeat.

“You did, didn't you?”

Apparently, Ginny had mistaken Hermione's silence for admission.

“ Figures. You know, sometimes I wish Dolohov would have just finished the job.”

That did it. Something inside Hermione snapped, and before she knew it, Ginny was standing against thin air, pushed against a wall.

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Chapter 6: Reactions

A/N: I am back and this fic will be finished. I apologize for how long it took. Please take the time to review, and thanks to those who kept reviewing telling me to finish. You guys kept me in check! This fic will be finished in another chapter or so. Meanwhile, enjoy.

“How could you?” Hermione whispered, looking at the red head still stranded in thin air.

She supposed she could not blame her for her outburst. She was upset, recently dumped and all. But that bit about Dolohov was simply uncalled for. Hermione guessed that's what Ginny wanted, to provoke a reaction out of her, something to complain to Harry about. It shouldn't have made her as mad as she was. It shouldn't have made her levitate Ginny, and it definitely shouldn't have made her use wandless magic.

She should have laughed about it. But the fact that Ginny would use her little drama to complain to Harry later, and that she had played right into Ginny's plan, made her even angrier.

She forced herself to calm down, willing herself to put Ginny back on the floor.

But blast, that wretched pain came to mess with her concentration.

Hermione did not yet completely dominate wandless magic. She was still in sixth year after all. It took a lot of concentration, and a lot of bodily tension, to pull. That was why she did not use it but for practice with stationary objects once in a while; never when she had a temper, never to levitate a human being. And all the events within the last two days had not fully allowed her body to recover since the argument with Harry.

She did not know if it was because the lack of recovery, her sudden outburst of anger, or the magical force she was taking upon herself. But wandless magic seemed to be the cherry on the sundae as far as her wound was concerned.

Hermione flinched as she felt a wet spot in her abdomen. She looked down to realize that droplets of her blood were falling to the floor.

Still in shock, for her wound had never bled before, she didn't realize that the portrait had swung open.

“Bloody hell Hermione! You didn't tell me you had moved on to bigger targets,” said Ron. His cheery mood was Hermione's obvious lead that her red-haired best friend hadn't completely become aware of the situation.

“Very funny Ron,” Ginny grumbled.

It was the male redhead's voice that brought Hermione out of her stupor.

“Is Harry with you?” she whispered.

“What?” Ron seemingly remained puzzled.

“What, are you daft? She wants her boyfriend to come to the rescue again. And could you please tell her to let me go? Maybe that will stop the bleeding,” Ginny grumbled once again.

“Bleeding?” Ron kept questioning.

“Ow!” Ginny grumbled as Hermione put her hand in a first, effectively dropping her. “Thanks a lot.”

“Ron, where is Harry?” Hermione turned around as she felt her hands positively soaked in her wound's blood.

“Bloody hell Hermione! I'll get Madam Pomfrey!” Ron's face was as white as parchment, Hermione observed. Oddly enough, her body had gone numb. There was no pain, but the blood kept trickling.

Suddenly, she realized that she had spoken too soon. She gasped as she could not help but fall face flat on the floor. If she was not biting her lips right now, she would have howled in pain. Right now, she could not tell what worried her more. The pain was more than normal, but the bleeding had not ceased.

“Damn it Ron. GET HARRY!” Hermione screamed.

She didn't know at this point what Madam Pomfrey could do. She probably could close the wound, but as always, as they didn't know the origin of the pain, only that it seemed to come when Hermione was stressed, no one dared to use magic to counteract it. Only she could relax her body. And she only trusted Harry to counteract the pressure of her body with his own, and soothe her.

“Just get him Ron.” Hermione distinctly heard Ginny's voice, but it seemed to fade away.

She could still feel the thumping of the pain in her abdomen, but she also started to feel her body tremble.

“I'm cold,” she whispered, not sure if anyone could hear her at this point. Her vision was becoming cloudy, and the pain alternated between numbing and high intensity periods.

“Ron?” she tried to whisper, but she doubted no one but she heard her own voice.

She could feel herself drifting away.

“HERMIONE!”

Harry's green eyes were the last thing she saw before everything went black.

****

Hermione groaned as she felt the pain once more, but it was a sore type of pain, not the shooting sensation that she felt when Dolohov's magic was at work.

As her eyes adjusted to the brightly lit white walls, she realized she was in the Hospital Wing, and it wasn't long before she heard Madam Pomfrey's shrill voice.

“Mr. Potter, she will wake up, but you have to be patient. She lost quite a bit of blood. I will not know the extent of the damage until-”

Followed by her boyfriend's.

“Something has to be done. What about a muscle relaxant?”

“I'm afraid that only works-”

“Ha-rry?” Hermione called him, finding her voice to be unusually hoarse.

Her boyfriend immediately rushed to her side.

“Hermione, thank Merlin. How are you feeling?”

Her heart broke as she heard all the concern in Harry's voice. He had so many other things to worry about. She wished he didn't have to worry about her. But this time, she had no one to blame but herself. She had gotten mad at Ginny. She had levitated her using wandless magic, and she had screamed at Ron and ordered him to go look for Harry.

All the more reason to kill Dolohov with her bare hands.

“I'm all right. I'm sorry Harry-”

“I'll be the judge of that,” Madame Pomfrey announced, approaching her. “Can you tell me what happened Miss Granger?”

Hermione nodded, her shame preventing her from looking at Madam Pomfrey in the eyes.

“I was arguing. It was silly, but I got really angry. It was as though the magic took a life of its own. Next thing I knew, Ginny was floating in mid-air. I know I did it, and I shouldn't have done it. But I didn't intend to do it-I-”

“And the pain?” Madam Pomfrey asked.

“I didn't have any at first. But about a minute after I levitated Ginny, I felt a wet spot close to the wound site. I was surprised by the bleeding, but there was no pain. The pain came later as the stress of the bleeding really sank in. I screamed at Ron to get Harry. That's when I really felt it. The pain was so intense it became hard to keep my balance-”

“Which explains the bruise at the right of the wound,” Madam Pomfrey confirmed.

“Bruise? But the distance wasn't even-” Hermione began to protest. The bruising made no sense after a simple fall.

“The wound site was already tender. The fall made it worse,” said Madam Pomfrey, “How are you feeling now? Are you in pain?”

Hermione sighed as she realized she did not. There was tenderness and soreness, probably from the bleeding and subsequent fall. But the pain was gone.

“No. It feels sore,” she said.

“Is that normal for your wound after the pain Miss Granger?” Madam Pomfrey asked.

“No,” Hermione answered, and could not help blushing.

The last time she had felt sore had been when she had given herself to Harry for the first time. Madam Pomfrey raised an eyebrow in a questioning look, and Harry looked too concerned to think about better times. Nevertheless, the nurse said nothing. Thank Merlin. Hermione wasn't in the mood to be embarrassed in front of the nurse.

“It's usually either pain or relief. There is no middle ground,” she finished.

“Let's see it. Excuse us Mr. Potter. ”

Harry backed into a corner as Madam Pomfrey pulled Hermione's gown up.

Hermione noticed that this time, the nurse hadn't even bothered to bandage the wound. It wouldn't have helped anyway. But she was surprised to see the wound closed. There was no sign of bleeding. In fact, the wound looked better than she had ever seen it.

“Well, it looks better,” Madam Pomfrey confirmed what Hermione had been able to appreciate within her limited field of vision. Her body had lost no time in protesting about her forced position. “Nevertheless Miss Granger, I'd like to keep you overnight for observation.”

Hermione nodded. She had been expecting to stay. Better safe than sorry.

“Can I stay with her?” Harry pleaded.

“No, Madam Pomfrey, I can assure you that's not necessary-” Hermione would have none of it. Harry had other things to do than to look up after her. She didn't need a baby sitter.

“I'm sorry Mr. Potter, but that would imply staying after curfew. I'll stay with her. You can come first thing in the morning if you like,” said Madam Pomfrey.

Harry nodded. Hermione could see he was upset. She could tell he would not sleep tonight.

“I'll see you tomorrow then,” Harry whispered and kissed her forehead. “Good night Madam Pomfrey,” he said to the nurse.

“Good night Mr. Potter,” said Madam Pomfrey.

“Harry, you don't need to be here first thing-” Hermione tried to reason with him. He needed his rest as well and since tonight he was not going to get it, perhaps he could sleep in. Tomorrow was Saturday after all.

“You can't win this one Hermione. I'll be here,” Harry whispered again, smiling thinly this time.

She sighed. His selflessness was one of the things she loved most about him, despite how annoying it could be sometimes.

“You have nice friends, Miss Granger.” Madam Pomfrey said, smiling at her.

“I know,” said Hermione.

“You know, observation is just a precaution. Truth be told, I've never seen that nasty bruise look better. Are you sure you didn't do anything magically to yourself in the course of this…argument?”

“Not that I know of, Madam Pomfrey,” Hermione answered. And it was the truth. She hadn't even thought about the consequences that using such a physically demanding magical force would have on her body. She had just thought about teaching Ginny a lesson. And that lesson hadn't included wandless levitation.

“Well, let's hope it will continue to look like that in the morning. I'll run some more tests then, and we'll take it from there,” said Madam Pomfrey.

“Thanks,” Hermione said.

“Good night Miss Granger. I'll be keeping an eye on you, so don't worry,” Madam Pomfrey assured her.

Hermione nodded, reaching to touch her wound.

She winced as she felt the tenderness, but there was no pain. And the bleeding had ceased. She could only hope it would get better from here, even if that meant thanking Ginny as soon as she got out.

She sighed once more. Despite her anger, she hoped Ginny wasn't seriously hurt. Although she doubted that their friendship could go back to the way it was before, she hoped that they could still have some sort of friendship. That is, after she could get over the redhead's tantrum. She knew that eventually she would. After all, time healed al wounds. Some would take longer than others, but would still heal.

She could only hope that both Ginny's resentment and her blue abrasion would go away with time.

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Chapter 7: New Sensations

A/N: I know, you guys want to kill me! I deserve it. I suffered a teeny bit of writer's block, I started graduate school and I finished my novel's writing course, so suffice to say I've been focusing on other things. But as promised, I will finish this fic. There are a couple of chapters left and as always, I would appreciate your feedback. I hope you are enjoying summer!

“Harry.”

The green eyed wizard looked beyond the now opened portrait to see Ginny sitting in front of the fire, her eyes fixed on his.

He really didn't want to be rude to her. He knew he had hurt her, after all. He knew that with time, he would perhaps learn to love her, but never as he loved Hermione. He felt wretched for having led her on.

Today however, had been a really long day. And he wouldn't get to cuddle with Hermione tonight. So to say he was not really in the mood for a late night talk was an understatement.

“Good night Ginny.” He tried to brush past her.

“Harry, I'm sorry. How is she?” Ginny sounded genuinely sorry. Harry didn't know if to feel relieved or more wretched.

“She will be fine…after tonight. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get up early tomorrow.”

“Will you tell her I didn't mean it? Really, I was just angry that-“

“She knows. But you can tell her yourself. I'm sure she would welcome a visit from you.”

“Maybe. When she's out.” Harry could hear the tension in Ginny's voice. He couldn't blame her and wouldn't press her. He didn't want to hurt her more than he already had.

“Okay,” he acknowledged her statement, trying to brush past her once more. His attempt was just as unsuccessful as the last one.

“I really am sorry. I just wish…wish things were different. Maybe I always knew…knew that your heart wasn't in this.”

“I'm sorry Ginny. I didn't mean to hurt you,” Harry said, looking into her eyes. Would she believe him?

Ginny nodded.

“I know Harry.”

Harry let out a relief sigh he didn't know he was holding. Maybe…with time, the friendship would mend.

****

“Mr. Potter, don't you ever sleep?”

Hermione's eyes squinted at the morning light as she heard Madam Pomfrey's voice. She immediately spotted her green eyed boyfriend by her bedside.

“Hey you,” he whispered, taking her hand in his. “I'm here bright and early, as promised.”

“You didn't have to and you know it.”Hermione tried to admonish him, but couldn't help the smile that escaped her lips as he started caressing her knuckles.

“I know. But I'd do anything if it means you're the first thing I see in the morning.”

Hermione chuckled at the sheepish grin he was giving her. She extended her hand to remove his unruly hair from his face. She loved that unruly hair, especially when her hands were on it and he…

Hermione's mental image came to a halt when she noticed the bags under his eyes.

“Did you have another nightmare Harry?” she couldn't help the concern that escaped her.

“What, now you expect me to sleep without you?”

Hermione chuckled once again, her hand caressing his cheek as she felt her own heat up. Their night together hadn't been spent sleeping after all.

“Well, you won't have to tonight,” she whispered.

Harry took her hand from his face and began giving butterfly kisses to her palm.

“My, aren't we amorous today,” she said as he put her hand on his cheek again. “Quite a change from the morning we spent together.”

“I'm sorry `Mione, but I can't help but worry about you. I thought it would be easier if I didn't have you. And in a way it was, because now that I do, I don't want to ever let go,” he kissed her palm once more, “But I also realized how easy it would be to lose you…again, and I think I would not be able to get over it this time.”

“Harry-” Hermione wanted desperately to comfort him, to let him know that he would never lose her, that she would always be there for him. But he wouldn't have it.
“I don't want to waste another moment arguing with you,” he admitted.

“Oh Harry.”

“Although you do look very hot when you're angry.”

“Harry-” Hermione couldn't help but blush once again.

“I love you Hermione.”

His admission surprised her. She couldn't remember the last time she was rendered speechless. He had said it before and she knew he meant it. But there was something about today…it made her love him even more, if that was even possible. The last two days have been something that she had told herself over and over that she would only see in a dream. Over the years, she had resigned herself to the fact that Harry would never see her as more than his bushy haired best friend. Now that she knew she was more, such an admission, what was hopefully to become an everyday statement that would never lose its meaning, brought tears to her eyes.

“Oh Harry I-”

“How are you feeling today Miss Granger?”

Hermione gasped as Harry let go of her hand, putting some distance between them. Leave it to Madam Pomfrey to ruin one of those perfect moments. Hermione had momentarily forgotten that they were in the hospital wing. She knew that the Healer meant well however and her parents had taught her to always be polite.

“Good morning Madam Pomfrey. I'm feeling fine, thanks. Can I go today?”

“Well, I suppose, if everything is in order. But for now, let's just run a quick check. Excuse us Mr. Potter.”

****

Hermione got out of the hospital wing to find Harry dutifully waiting outside the door. Another one of those perfect moments…

“Hey, you all right?” His concerned face broke her heart. But she had good news, the greatest she had heard health-wise since she had first woken up from the Department of Mysteries.

“Yes. Madam Pomfrey even says that my wound site has improved,” she couldn't the smile that followed her statement.

“What does that mean?” Harry looked genuinely puzzled.

“She says that the site looks better than the last time she saw me. I'm supposed to check with her in a few days to make sure. But so far, so good.”

“Let's hope so. In the meantime, let's not get you upset again.”

Harry surprised her by putting his arm around her. She must have looked the part, because Harry strengthened his grip.

“What? You're mine now. Why keep it a secret? Dear old Voldie will find out one way or another. Not that I intend to let anything happen to you.”

Hermione sighed. It seemed like he had taken the words right out of her mouth. Now that Harry was hers, she wanted to shout it to the whole world. Yet, she had wanted to wait until he was as comfortable as she was, given the little time they had been together like this. It seemed however, that he wanted the same thing she did. And she had no complaints whatsoever.

She sighed. If this is what it took for Harry to respond to her like that, she would take a hundred more of Dolohov's spells.

“I love you Harry,” she whispered, putting her head on his shoulder. If it was possible, her grip strengthened, his hand grasping hers. “Stay with me tonight?” She looked up from his shoulder.

“You can bet on it, now that you are as responsible for my lack of sleep as Voldemort is.”

“Under much more pleasant circumstances I hope.” Hermione raised her eyebrow. Harry glanced at her.

“Most definitely.”

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