Unofficial Portkey Archive

A/N: Believe it or not, I wrote all of this on Thursday! I was busy all Friday and Saturday so I couldn't post early or write at all and this is the result. And, unfortunately, this is the last chapter I'm writing before school starts. BLAH! Now, I have no idea how Senior year is going to treat me, but hopefully it's a lot more stress free than Junior year. Man, that was horrible. I'll try to update every Sunday still and then, of course, take a small break after this story concludes. Thank you to Vincent, my beta, and to all of you who read and review! Seriously, you guys are awesome.

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Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Jessica's Guide still aren't mine. If it was, I'd be living it up in London with my husband, Daniel Radcliffe. *sigh*

-

Up Up and Away

"We had a rocket
That fell out of orbit
We couldn't stop it
We couldn't control it

We are rockets in the sky
We are planets passing by
Up up and away
Forget me
Go your own way"
- Lights (Up Up and Away)

All I could do throughout dinner was stare at her.

She had been introduced to everyone currently residing at Grimmauld; Molly, Arthur, Fred, George, Bill, Fleur, Remus, Tonks, Sirius, Ron, and Ginny. And, to both my pleasure and amazement, she got along with everyone there. Not that it was too incredibly shocking, but after her yelling at me for a good five minutes earlier that day, I found it hard to like her myself.

What right did she have to tell me how to run my life? If she had never found out about my past dealings with the opposite sex, things wouldn't be any different. It was just one more skeleton in my closet and, quite frankly, wasn't the worst of them. So forgive me if I couldn't comprehend why she was taking this particular pile of bones in my life more to heart.

I looked down to the peas on my plate and sighed. That wasn't the most of what was bothering me, though, was it? At first, I didn't know what it was that was making me question my own judgment. Nothing, and I repeat, nothing had made me do that before. I was the guy who always went head-first into things without regrets. Of course, that was before I met Hermione.

And then it hit me.

Never once had someone yelled at me about that aspect of my life before. Ron looked at me as a sort of God with women, asking me for advice in his own love life. Ginny chastised me with a wagging finger of disapproval but never went above a scornful tone. Sirius just smiled knowingly and told me it was all a part of growing up. On no account did anyone outright yell and tell me I was sleeping my life away. It was like a wake-up call, only all it did was open my eyes while I was still trapped in bed, no pun intended.

Hermione's view and reaction were like a breath of fresh air. And I couldn't figure out if it was pure oxygen I was inhaling or an odorless poisonous smoke. But that was Hermione, wasn't it? You could never figure out whether her argument was valid or not and by the time you do, you realize that the entire point of it was to make you think. Clever girl. Stupid, clever girl.

She was now in an animated conversation with Arthur. He had been overwhelming her with questions about the Muggle world since she arrived back downstairs. She answered reluctantly at first, but when she got the hint that this was all he was interested in at the moment, she complied with a smile. It provided me with the perfect opportunity to sneak glances at her without her knowing. I should be thinking more on why I was doing that than her reaction to my past experiences, but I wasn't looking forward to the answer I would eventually conclude.

One thing was perfectly clear. I needed to talk with her again. Make sure she didn't change her mind and vow to hate me for all eternity. And maybe, just maybe, figure out why she was making me second guess myself.

"Fascinating." Arthur was gushing. "Muggles think of the oddest ways to transport themselves. You say they fly in pelihopters?"

"Helicopters." Hermione corrected. "And airplanes as well."

"Oh, marvelous!" Arthur said, jumping up in his seat.

Hermione smiled softly and took a quick bite of her potatoes before Arthur began questioning her once more. "And what of the schooling system? I've heard it is vastly different than how they do it at Hogwarts."

"Well, yes." She said. "Instead of Potions and Arithmancy, we have Chemistry and Maths. It's a lot more boring than the curriculum you're used to, I'm sure."

"Oh no. It sounds wonderful!"

I couldn't help but snort. Hermione looked over at me and gave me a knowing glance. I felt a weight lift from my shoulder when our eyes locked. I shouldn't base her newfound opinion of me with a single look, I know, but I think it's the small things that allow us the answers we seek. When preparing for battle, Dumbledore gave me an inside look to Voldemort's past by showing me his memories. Every little thing counted, he said, in the battle against him. So why can't I allow the little things Hermione does to be proof enough that there was still hope to fix what Ron has unintentionally broken? I could. And that was enough to work up the guts to give her a small smile - a smile that said everything a peace treaty did without all the flowery diction. Of course, negotiations still had to be made. But for the time being, this was enough to bide the time.

And she smiled back at me.

"Do you use this Chemistry to create potions, then?" Arthur piped up, causing Hermione's attention to shift back to him.

"Not unless you want to be rushed to a nearby hospital."

Arthur chuckled wholeheartedly. "Ah, so poisons, then?"

"Something like that."

"Interesting." He pondered lightly.

"It's mostly scientific." Hermione responded quickly. "They're not meant to drink. They're concocted for medicine and cleaning solutions."

"Cleaning solutions?" Arthur asked in wonder.

"Yes. Muggles use a combination of things to get a spot-free shine to their possessions…"

My neck quickly snapped over to Hermione. She was still explaining the uses of cleaning solutions, unaware of what she had just said. Of course, she could have forgotten about our little agreement we made soon after we first met. That just worked to my benefit. I smirked to myself. I wonder if my Firebolt was still where I left it underneath my bed.

I dismissed myself from the table, my plate having been wiped clean for a good five minutes, and made a beeline to my room. I didn't pass anyone on my way, seeing as they were all in animated conversation downstairs and henceforth taking a longer time digesting their food. My room was one of two on the top floor, the other being Sirius's. It used to bug me, being the on the top floor, but now I welcomed the solitude it brought.

When I entered the room I had called my own for the majority of my life, I walked straight up to the bed and got on all fours to look underneath. I smiled when I saw it. I reached across the floor and grabbed the wood by the smooth handle, pulling it out gingerly. Thankfully, only a small layer of dust covered it and with a few wipes with my sleeve it was back to its former glory. I still regret putting my prized possession underneath my bed to lie there without any attention. But I know that if I kept it on its normal holster on my wall while I was gone, Sirius may be compelled to give it a spin and increase the risk of it breaking. He had even said himself: My father was the flyer and he was the one who broke things.

I had missed flying. When I accepted the assignment I knew that I would be in the Muggle world and would have no time at all to dedicate to my favorite pastime. It was ironic that the reason I couldn't fly for four months was also the reason I was pulling my Firebolt out now.

"Harry?"

I turned around. It was Hermione. Surprised at her sudden appearance, I set my broom down and tried my best to keep a calm demeanor. "Hey, Hermione."

"You disappeared during dinner."

I shrugged. "I was finished."

She nodded. "Right. Erm, well I just wanted to make sure that you were okay. I know I gave you an earful this afternoon and-"

"Hermione." I interrupted her. "There's no need to apologize. You were expressing your opinion and I can't be mad at you for that."

"I… well, thank you, I guess."

"You're the first person to yell at me about that, you know."

"I kind of figured with the way you were taking it." She said smoothly. "Like a wounded puppy with an attitude."

I chuckled at her analogy. "The past is the past, I'm afraid. I'm still Harry just…"

"More experienced." She finished.

We both laughed nervously. After a moment, I saw her bite her lip and I started to absentmindedly stroke the brush of my Firebolt. Her eyes flickered over to my stiff movements and she inclined her head.

"What's that?"

I followed her eyes and saw she was inquiring about my broomstick, and not the one girls usually ask about. "Oh. This is my Firebolt."

"It looks like a broom to me." She said hesitantly.

"Well, it is a broom. A special brand of broom, the fastest one in the world, in fact." I tried to sound aloof, but I'm sure I sounded like a cocky prick. It didn't matter, though. I was proud of my Firebolt and didn't mind showing it off.

"There are different brands of brooms?"

"Yeah. In all shapes, sizes, and price ranges. It's like your car industry."

"Oh." She said, eyeing it nervously.

"Which reminds me…" I started slyly. "You remember your conversation with Arthur at dinner?"

She rolled her eyes. "How could I forget? He made me explain the function of a rubber duck."

"I mean after that."

She gave me a look. "Harry, we talked about a lot of things. What are you getting at?"

I smiled. "I was just inquiring about the cleaning solutions."

"The cleaning solutions?" She asked, crossing her arms around her chest. I adjusted my position on the bed, waiting for the explosion. "Harry, you've lived with my parents and I for four months. You've seen my mum use Ajax a hundred times."

"I was just wondering - silly, really - the explanation you gave to Arthur about who used it. What did you say again?"

Her brow furrowed. "Pardon?"

"The consumers. Who uses cleaning solutions?"

"You know very well Muggles use them. Unlike you, they don't have wands and spells to do their housework for them." She said hotly.

"I'm sorry… who?"

"Are you deaf?" She said irately. "I said Mug - oh, dear."

I grinned. "And there you have it, out of your own lips. I take it you remember our little deal, then?"

"You can't be serious!" She said in horror. "I can't possibly ride that… that twig!"

I stood up. "The Firebolt is not a twig. It is a highly sturdy and capable device currently standing at number two for Witch Weekly's Christmas Wish List."

"I don't care whose wish list it's on. I'm not riding that thing!"

"You agreed to it! `The day I say `Muggle' is the day I fly a broom.' Weren't those you're exact words?" I shot back.

"Well, yes, but-"

"So you said Muggle and now you have to pay the price."

She made a voice low in her throat that sounded dangerously close to a growl. I recoiled a bit at that, but pressed on. "You said it yourself. Are you going to deny your own statement?"

She sighed loudly, knowing she was fighting a lost battle. Through clenched teeth, she said a deflated "No."

I smiled brightly. "Great. Hermione Granger, I'm going to teach you how to fly."

"What, now?!"

"No, of course not," I laughed. "It's too dark to teach a newcomer to fly. We'll start tomorrow morning after breakfast. I'll sneak us away to the place I always used to practice during my time off."

"Why sneak?" She asked suspiciously.

"You don't want the Weasleys coming along, trust me. They live off of Quidditch and flying. If they were there, the pressure on you would be overwhelming." Plus, I want to be alone with you again.

"Oh. That's a good reason to sneak." Very good indeed.

I nodded, stopping the internal comments in my mind. The last thing I needed right now was to let those start up again. "So after we're done eating, we'll just pretend to go up to our rooms and I'll fly us to the place, alright?"

"We're going to fly there?"

"Well, yeah. It's the fastest way to get there unless you want to side-along apparate with me and puke up the contents of your breakfast?"

"Flying is good." She said quickly.

"Fantastic."

~*~

The next morning, I strutted down to breakfast. It didn't take much to get me out of bed. The prospect of flying through the air with the wind blowing through my hair was enough to make me giddy.

Hermione was already downstairs, nibbling on a piece of toast covered in marmalade. I took a seat next to her and began to load my plate with enough food to fill me up for the morning. So, naturally, I grabbed one of everything and piled it on top of each other. What can I say? Flying makes me hungry.

"So I take it you two have made up?" Ginny asked from across me. I hadn't even noticed her there, I realized guiltily.

"Somewhat." She said. "I still think he's a slut."

I choked on the pumpkin juice I had been sipping. Ginny and Hermione both began giggling furiously as I did my best to swallow the liquid in my mouth. When I did, I glared over at Hermione who was giving me an innocent smile.

"I have a healthy sex life. That's nothing to be ashamed of."

"Right, of course." Ginny agreed. "Especially with that underage fifth year last summer."

"That was an accident!" I said in defense. "She told me she was seventeen and I believed her. Forgive me for being a trusting person."

"And the fact that she wasn't in any of your classes gave nothing away?"

"Shut up, Ginny."

She continued eating her eggs with a smug smile. Hermione continued to eat her breakfast as well, choosing not to voice her opinions for once. I sighed and went back to my food, knowing it was better to just leave it.

"Well, I'm going to head back up to my room. I have a lot of homework to start on." Hermione announced. I looked at her plate and saw that it was clean save for a few bread crumbs.

"Even Muggles get homework on break?" Ginny asked in disgust.

"Yep. Especially when you have advanced courses." Hermione said, getting up pushing her chair in.

"I hate professors. It's like they want to kill us with work overload."

"Amen to that." Ron said as he entered. He'd probably smelt the plethora of food from his room or else he wouldn't be up this early. He noticed Hermione was standing and asked, "Leaving, Hermione?"

"Homework." She explained.

"Ah. Good luck with that one, mate."

She nodded and shot me a glance before she left. I held back a smile. She wasn't a half bad liar. Well, on second thought, she wasn't really lying. I had no doubt in my mind that she was actually going to be buried in homework when I went up in a few minutes.

"She seems very tense today." Ginny said.

"Hm?" I asked.

"Hermione. She seemed tense."

"Really," I said halfheartedly. "I hadn't noticed."

She shrugged, pushing around sausages with her fork. "When I talked to her yesterday she seemed fine."

"She gets that way when she works on homework." I explained hurriedly. "It stresses her out."

"She's not alone in that aspect." Ron said, stuffing his face with eggs.

I looked down at my own plate, realizing it was now empty. I must have been eating without realizing it. Setting down my fork, I began to get up. I saw Ginny look up at me in question. "I have to get some reading done myself. Better now than never."

I left before she could respond. Ginny was always suspicious, something she gained from always asking Moody for advice at the beginning of Voldemort's rise. For some reason, she picked him as her Auror advisor. As for me, I stuck with Tonks. She was clumsy as a drunken Irishmen, but she had good battle strategies.

I arrived at Hermione's room within a minute. Sure enough when she told me to come in, she was lying face down on her bed, propped up on her elbows, and scribbling furiously in one of her notebooks. Score one for Harry.

"Ready to go?"

"No." She said, looking over at the book placed on her left and then using the eraser end of her pencil to correct her mistake.

"Hermione," I said playfully. "You can't avoid flying lessons with homework."

"Yes I can." She said in the same tone. "I need to finish this. Besides, it's freezing outside."

"So?"

She lifted her head for the first time since I entered, eyebrows arched. "So I don't want to be thirty feet up on the air on a dainty piece of wood with ten mile per hour winds blowing at my face that are below freezing."

"Okay, number one, it's not windy today." I said, sticking my pointer finger in the air. "And number two, I know you packed for cold weather. You are always overly prepared."

She rolled her eyes and slid off the bed. She was already dressed in a jumper, slacks, and sneakers. If she threw on a jacket and some gloves she would be fine. She gave me a look that showed me she knew what I was thinking and went to the set of drawers next to her bed. A moment later, she pulled out a wool jacket and a pair of matching gloves. I nodded in approval and watched her put on the articles of clothing. When she was finished, she held out her hands as if to say, There you happy?

Yes, Hermione, yes I am.

"We'll leave from my room, come on."

She followed me and we ascended the stairs. I was mindful to keep my steps quiet, as I suspected Sirius was still sleeping. Hermione took the hint when I put my index finger over my mouth as we neared his room. She nodded and we padded into my room on the balls of our feet. I shut the door noiselessly behind us. My Firebolt was already on my bed along with my jacket and gloves. I slipped them on swiftly and turned to Hermione with a smile. She looked as though someone had pissed in her pumpkin juice.

"Cheer up, Hermione. You'll love it."

"I doubt that." She responded with a frown.

I rolled my eyes and gripped my broom, heading to the window-door that lead out to the small balcony outside. Hermione followed reluctantly and closed the door behind her.

"Okay, I'm going to mount the broom, and I want you to get on behind me."

There was a pause before she nodded. I turned my back to her and mounted, waiting for her to climb on. I felt her a few moments later, her shoes scratching against the cement. "Now put your hands on my waist and hold on."

She hesitated again, but complied after a second's pause. I felt her arms wind around me and then her warm front press against my back. I smiled to myself before kicking off. She let out a loud scream behind me and held on for dear life, her grip constricting my breath only just. I continued at high speed toward the clearing in the woods a good half a mile east. I didn't bother with a Disillusionment charm, knowing it was too early to risk someone on the street spotting us and not blaming it on sleep. Hermione kept on letting out little squeaks when I turned to avoid birds and high chimneys throughout the two minute journey, amusing myself for the time being. Plus, whenever she breathed, I could feel every aspect of her movements since her tight grip never wavered.

I started our descent when I spotted the clearing and Hermione mumbled something to herself along the lines of "We're there, it's okay, you're fine, you're not dead. It's all over now."

I chuckled deep in my chest as our feet touched the ground. Hermione disentangled her arms from around me quicker than I thought humanly possible. She collapsed onto the frost-covered ground and moved her hands around in quick circles as if to make sure she was actually on solid earth. She looked back up at me soon after with a look of pure rage upon her face.

"If you ever do that to me again I will hex you into the next century."

She meant every word. Of course I, being the loveable smart-ass I am, tried to lighten up the situation with an optimistic comment. "It wasn't that bad, Hermione."

"I'm scared of heights, you prick!" She screeched.

That stopped me in my tracks. I hadn't been expecting that. "I thought you were only afraid of the broom breaking."

"No!" She said, her cheeks beginning to flush.

"Merlin, Hermione. I'm so sorry." I said getting on my knees beside her. "If I would have known, I would have taken it easier. Why didn't you tell me?"

She took a deep, shaky breath. "I - I didn't think it would matter. I thought I could hold it in. But being up so high, going so fast, sliding around and not knowing if we were going to plummet to our deaths… how do you stand it?"

"I've grown up with it. Sirius said I learned to fly before I learned to walk. It's second nature for me."

"Lucky you." She said, a bitter sting on her tongue.

"Hey," I said, putting an arm around her shoulder. "It'll be fine. We don't have to go up that high today. Just the basics, yeah? We can continue it another day if you're not comfortable going up yet."

She turned to me, her eyes filled with silent fear. It was heartbreaking. "Yeah. Yeah, okay."

I stood up and offered my hand. She took it and I pulled her up, leading us back over to the broom that was hovering a good two feet off the ground. She looked at it reproachfully and I gave her a reassuring smile. "Go on and mount it."

She nodded and I took a step back, allowing her to do it without me lurking over her shoulder. She gazed at the broom for a minute, taking in the unfamiliar object. I was about to offer some encouragement when she put a hand on the wood and squeezed so tight her hand shook. It looked like she was testing for strength - to make sure it wouldn't break. I smiled to myself.

It was another minute before she swung a leg over and placed her other hand behind the one already gripping the broom. She let out a breath and a smile began to work its way on her face. I walked back over to her and grinned.

"That was great." I said in praise. "Now, I want you to kick off gently and then when you begin to hover in the air, bend the broom forward until your feet touch the ground. Can you do that for me?"

She gave me a smile. "Yeah. I think I can."

"Good. Now push with the balls of your feet… yes, that's it…"

She began hovering in midair and let out a breath of surprise. "I'm doing it! I'm actually doing it!"

"That's great Hermione, now when you feel ready, lean forward and touch back down, okay?"

"Okay." She said. She hovered in midair and rose as far as an inch above my head before she lost focus in her eyes. I didn't think anything of it until her body began to shake.

"Hermione?"

"I - it's too high." She said, her trembling joints seeping into her voice.

"It's okay, Hermione, just lean forward and you'll come back down." I said calmly.

"It's still rising, I can't stop it!" She said in a panic.

"Even out the broom and it'll stop."

She did what I said, evening it out. By the time the broom stopped rising in height, she was ten feet above my head. I took a few steps back, trying to get a good look at her face. When it came into view, I felt my gut drop. She was as pale as the fresh snow.

"Hermione, it's okay, you're fine." I said consolingly. "Just lean the broom down and you'll be back down here in no time."

"I can't!" She said, her shaky grip beginning to shake the broom. "Ah!"

"Stay calm!" I called up to her. "I'm right here. You're fine."

"I'll slip! I'm going to fall!"

"No you're not! You're going to be just fine! Please, just lean the broom down!"

"I can't!"

"Yes you can! Come on Hermione, I know you have it in you!"

She didn't respond. For a moment I thought she had fainted. But, with hands still shaking, she proved me wrong by leaning forward and bringing the broom down. I remained silent as to not break her concentration. When she was just above my head, I moved to the side and held out my hands for her in case she tipped over. It's a good thing I did, because when the broom aligned with my upper stomach, she slid off and fell into my arms. I cradled her to me and felt her hands twist around my neck as she buried her head into my shoulder. She was still shaking.

"Shh." I said softly, removing my hands from behind her knees and allowing them to drift to the ground. She still remained attached to me. I didn't mind. I embraced her and rubbed her back in small strokes. It was a tender moment and I felt a wave of guilt hit me when I realized that it was me who made her like this. I was the one who pushed her into flying, insisting she learn. Oh, how I regretted that now. She was like a terrified child who just had her first run in with the bogyman.

I lowered my head to rest on the side of hers, my lips on her ear. "I'm sorry." I whispered.

She pulled back. It shocked me to see tears rolling down her face. Although comforting her once before when she was in trauma after the Death Eater attack, this seemed much different, much worse.

"Why are you sorry?" She asked in a broken voice.

"I made you fly. It was stupid and I shouldn't have."

She shook her head. "Please don't blame yourself, Harry. I had just as big of a part as you. You were right; I told you I would fly a broomstick when I said `Muggle.' It more my fault, really, I didn't tell you about my fear of heights."

"But I pushed it."

"And I went along with it, albeit reluctantly." She said. "It was a mutual thing, agreed?"

I smiled. "Agreed."

She returned my smile and did something I would have never expected. She kissed my cheek. I could feel her salty tears brush against my skin as she lingered there for a moment longer than necessary. When she pulled away, I fought back the urge to lean in and capture her lips before she knew what hit her. Those were not the thoughts I was supposed to be letting into my head. She was my friend. And, more importantly, she was extremely fragile at this particular moment. She unwound her hands from my neck and I repeated those thoughts in my head. Friend, fragile, friend, fragile, friend, fragile…

But all that went to hell when our eyes locked. They weren't teary anymore, but the remnants of them were still smeared on her cheeks. I removed one hand from its grip on her waist and began to wipe the wet residue from her skin. It was a reflex more than anything - a new reflex, but one nonetheless. Her eyes went out of focus as I rubbed my thumb against her skin. When it was dry, I felt another rush of overwhelming desire to kiss her. It took all I had not to. But then her gaze flickered to my lips and I lost it. I began to lean down and I saw her eyes widen in surprise, but she didn't pull away. Our lips barely brushed and I felt a pang of something in my chest, but before it could accelerate into something more and I could act on this new feeling, an owl hooted behind us. We jumped apart as if shocked by a lightning bolt.

"We should, ah, get back before they come looking for us." I said in a cracked voice.

"Yeah - yeah that… yeah."

I mounted my broom and she got on behind me. Although close proximity did nothing but make this worse, it was still the only way to get back. She held onto me tight as I kicked off, mindful to take the trip back slower. Her head was resting on my back and I could hear her trying to keep her breath steady. The trip back was silent. No screams, no laughter, just silence.

When we got back to the balcony, I let her get off first again, the warmth of her body slipping away from mine. When I dismounted after, I turned to see her brushing white flakes off of her jacket. It was only then I realized it had begun to snow. I looked off into the distance and saw the light grey snow clouds covering the sky. I opened the door to let us inside before it got heavier. I loved snow as much as the next guy, but neither Hermione nor I wanted to spend another minute outdoors. Shutting the window-door behind us, I saw Hermione looking at me with an unreadable expression.

"Thank you for trying." She said meekly.

"It's no problem. Maybe one day we can go again."

She nodded. "Maybe."

I took a step toward her, going out on a limb. "Listen, Hermione, about what happened-"

"There you are." A shrill voice interrupted from the doorway. There stood Molly in all of her late morning glory. "I've been looking for you two for the past ten minutes! Where have you been?"

"We went outside." I said, not wanting to lie to my surrogate mother. "I took Hermione out on my broom."

"In this weather? You're not properly dressed at all! You need a scarf, some boots and why aren't you wearing earmuffs?"

"Sorry Molly." Hermione apologized. "We didn't know it was going to snow."

"Well come downstairs after changing. I have a fire started. You both have noses as pink as a blushing schoolgirl. Don't want you getting sick."

"Of course. We'll be right down." I assured her.

She nodded and left. I turned to Hermione and saw her smiling. "Is she always like that?" she asked.

"It's her job to be a mother to everyone." I explained. "She has a huge family, so she doesn't know anything else. It can be a bit overbearing, but she only means best."

"Yesterday she asked what size sweater I wore." She said. "Is that something she asks everyone as well?"

"Pretty much. It's for your… you know what, I'll let it be a surprise."

"Fair enough."

There was a long silence. I, having lost my courage to bring up what had nearly transpired a few minutes ago, went to stripping my jacket and gloves off of me. It was very chilly in my room and I instantly missed their warmth. I had to remind Sirius to set up heating charms around this place.

"I'll see you downstairs, then?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah." I said, not looking at her.

I heard her footsteps lead out the door and into the hallway. I kept my ears trained to them until they disappeared down the stairs and onto the level below. I sighed to myself and banged my head against the wall closest to me. Whatever compelled me to almost kiss Hermione in the clearing was something very dangerous. Also, it was very likely connected to the reason that I had taken Hermione's harsh words to heart yesterday. I knew that I cared for her, that much was certain. But this was something more than that, something past attraction and friendship. And it was scaring me.

I tried to remove my thoughts from the headache that was threatening to appear and pulled a sweater on over my shirt, layering up. My pants hadn't gotten wet at all and I rarely wore shoes inside, so that was all I had to do before I went downstairs.

When I arrived, Ron and Ginny were there on the sofa, conversing over mugs of steaming liquid. I walked over to them and they both greeted me with sly smiles. I took a seat on the vacant loveseat and welcomed the plush depths that enveloped me.

"Mum told me to give you this." Ron said, handing me a mug that was on the end table beside him. I took it and sipped it greedily. The delicious sweetness of hot chocolate filled my mouth and I moaned. Nothing beat Molly's hot chocolate on a cold day.

"She also told us that she found you and Hermione in your room… alone." Ginny said suggestively.

"I took her out for some flying lessons." I said honestly.

"Flying lessons… alone."

"Shove it, Ginny."

"Oh, touchy." She said over her mug, taking another sip.

"Aren't you and Hermione, like, together by now?" Ron asked.

I felt something heat up in my lower stomach at the mention of Hermione and I together. It was quickly squished, though, by the hard anvil of reality. "No. We're just friends."

"Seriously?" Ron asked. "Why?"

"Yeah." Ginny agreed. "You guys have been radiating sexual tension since you got here."

"You should have seen their grand entrance." Ron said with a laugh. "Harry was practically-"

"We're not together." I said solidly.

"But you fancy her." Ginny said smartly.

"I dunno, maybe." I said. "Whatever it is though, it can't happen."

"Why the bloody hell not?" Ron asked. "You both are already engaged. You're halfway there."

"That may be so, but that doesn't mean we're going to end up together." I said.

"Harry." Ginny said softly, drawing my attention to her. "We've been your friends since we were in diapers. We know you better than you know yourself more times than not. And I'm saying that there's something about Hermione that's changing you."

"Changing me?" I asked in confusion.

"She's like your better half. She ripped your head off about your promiscuous adventures and you took it to heart. She made you speechless. Not to mention that you light up whenever you see her."

I sighed, knowing all these to be true. "Whatever feelings I have for Hermione don't matter. I'm here to protect her and nothing else. Besides," I added bitterly, "she has a boyfriend."

"Bummer." Ron said heavily. "I bet he's a prick."

I laughed at the irony. "You have no idea."

Silence enveloped the three of us. It was broken, probably by fate itself, with Hermione's cheerful voice. "Hello."

My outward demeanor stayed the same, but inside I was beaming. I bet Ginny could tell, especially when Hermione sat down next to me on the loveseat. She was practically dancing. She handed Hermione her mug of hot chocolate with a wink and I leaned back into the cushions.

Hermione Granger, you are driving me bloody insane.

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