Unofficial Portkey Archive

Chapter 1: In His Eyes

Hermione stirred the last remaining ingredient into the cauldron and watched as the potion she brewed turned from a burnt orange color to a deep purple slowly. According to the text and her careful calculations the potion was ready.

She bit her lip torn debating on drinking it. She had spent the last of her allowance money on the ingredients during the trip to Hogsmead last weekend and went through all the trouble to avoid the questions as to what she needed them for from the shopkeeper. But despite her hesitance, she had already brewed it, and instinctively she knew that she had already made up her mind to go through with it anyhow. She nodded her head filling the liquid into a tiny vial for her to drink. Quickly she packed up all her stuff and hurried back to the common room away from the privacy of the girls bathroom and Moaning Myrtle's constant nagging and asking her what she's brewing this time. The ghost had hovered the whole time, reading over her shoulder, making a clicking noise when she realized what Hermione was brewing. "A very complicated one this time girl, what do you need that one for?" She ignored her questions, and tried not to rush through it, knowing that the slightest error would ruin the whole potion. She was glad to leave, and her heart pounded in her chest as she made her way to the common room as she thought of what this potion would do, and what it would mean to her and Harry.

She knew that it was an invasion of privacy, that it was wrong of her to research the potion to begin with, and that if Harry found out, she was endanger of ruining their friendship forever. It was a huge risk, and many things could go wrong. The very thought seemed to scream disloyalty, but she knew it had to be done. Seeing the look on his face, the sadness, the distance between him and everyone else, she just needed to understand. He said it himself.

"You don't understand Hermione," he said in a sad tired tone the last time she had talked to him.

"Then help me understand, please Harry," she said desperately and touched his arm.

He pulled away quickly and looked away. "I can't," he said, his tone breaking her heart as she watched him walk away.

He looked helpless, heart broken, and she knew that was the second that he closed himself off to everyone else. . . Especially to her, she realized with a twinge of hurt.

She did understand a lot of things. She understood that he went through something traumatic last year. Seeing Cedric die right in front of his eyes as he watched helplessly knowing he couldn't do anything about it. She understood that his fellow schoolmates didn't believe him when he said the Dark Lord has returned and that everything he knew and loved about Hogwarts had been turned upside down. Especially with that toad Umbridge running around dictating everything. She had heard the whispering, all the horrible things people were saying, and the stares, and the glares, and the way people avoided him.

What she didn't understand is why he pushed her and Ron away. Ron had defended him numerous times, even threatened people out of anger, and she had never once wavered from his side. He was Harry after all, and she couldn't imagine not being able to help him, be there with him through thick and through thin, no matter what dangers they might face.

Until now. He had been deliberately avoiding them. What hurt her the most it seemed like he was avoiding her even more than Ron. Ron had told her the that he had talked to Harry a few times, asking if he was okay, and that although it may have been brief, he wasn't unresponsive like he was to her. She spent all of last week looking for him, following around to see if he was okay, or stubbornly asking him to join them for dinner.

She felt desperate. Needy even. She missed him greatly. It hurt seeing him in the halls and turning quickly to avoid her. Him not eating meals the same time he usually does with her and Ron. Him not even glancing her way in class.

He had been avoiding them for going on two weeks now, and the distance between them was growing faster leaving a void in the pit of her stomach and a hole in her heart. She missed him so much. And in one last attempt she came up with a plan. She didn't want to give up on Harry. She cared for him too much. She went through a lot with him already. And she had helplessly fallen in love with him long ago, and held it inside, letting no one know because she didn't want to jeopardize their friendship.

So she wanted to understand. She needed to understand. Maybe if she understood she'd be able to help him, and to guide him through this. To comfort him, to sympathize with him, to be there for him. She just needed to understand.

So she did what she knew best. She researched. Her search started off blindly, not knowing where to start, but she worked diligently for the past two days looking for a solution. With a moment of serendipity she stumbled across a rather complicated potion. It is designed to see the world through the eyes of whomever the person who drinks it wishes. If she brewed it right, she should be able to walk in Harry's shoes in a sense. If correctly brewed the potion would allow her to momentarily see what he saw, feel what he felt, and hear his inner thoughts.

It was an invasion of privacy she knew, but she needed this. Right now Harry was like a book she couldn't decipher, and she was determined to find the answers. Harry needed this she told herself. She looked at the vial of thick purple liquid in her hand with a newfound determination and downed the potion in one gulp.

Nothing happened at first, but then suddenly, almost dramatically sudden she felt a pulse of magic run through her veins, felt her eyes shutting, and her body going limp before her head hit the pillow on the couch in the common room she had been sitting in.

She was floating, or at least that's what she felt like. Images of the castle flew past her as she weaved through the halls going left, right, front, back, as if searching. It was a dizzying experience, to be looking around without her body carrying her underneath her. It was truly an out of body experience, an odd sense of what she saw around and not being connected with it all.

Not her body, but her mind, or rather her soul was in search for Harry. She was getting close, she could feel the buzz of magical energy that told her so, and within seconds it was confirmed when she turned the corner and saw him, the back of him with his head down, mumbling to himself, and the motion of her floating sped up until she was right behind him. There was a pause, and then a jolt of movement as if to step right through him, but she didn't. Instead she melted into him, and if she could gasp she would have. Instead she felt a wave of surprise, and to her amazement, it wasn't what she felt, but rather Harry felt it.

She watched the world around her as he blinked, his vision going blurry at first, before returning as normal. Hermione noted with a confused realization that things looked different from his eyes. The coloring seemed to be shade darker than she knew, the detail finer tuned. His familiarity with this castle was different somehow, viewed different, and his feelings for it was unlike what she felt.

Academically, she wondered if everyone saw and sensed different things, according to how differently people's brains were wired but she pushed the thought aside as she was overcome with the sense of emotions she felt from Harry. She could feel his heart pounding, watched as his eyes searched around, and the acknowledgement of something magical happening but no evidence around him to place was it was. He shook his head and tried to brush it off.

"It's Hogwarts, magic is all around us here," she heard him think to himself as he continued on his walk through the halls. He was heading to the Great Hall for a late supper. His stomach gave a growl of urgency to hurry, and she/he glanced down at his watch. It was almost after hours, and he had to head to the common room soon. He had waited, she realized to eat dinner late, so he wouldn't run into other students (which include her and Ron), and instead preferred to eat by himself.

She wondered briefly where he had been all this time while other students ate their supper, but feeling the coolness of his skin, the dampness from drying sweat, the slowly fading adrenaline running through him she guessed that he had been in the Quidditch pitch practicing, flying like a mad man, floating as high as he could go, like she knew he often did when he wanted to be alone. She had watched him a few nights over the years through her window in the girls Gryffindor dormitory room that was a perfect view of the Quidditch pitch, and was amazed at how fast he flew when he thought no one was looking. It was his stress relief, and completely opposite of hers which involved a nice quiet place and a good book to read.

He entered the Great Hall, it was quiet for the most part, but the few remaining students watched him the second he made an appearance and made his way to their normal spot on the dinner table.

She felt a wave of annoyance as he heard the whispering start up and noticed the inevitable staring. It started in his gut and bubbled into anger rather annoyance as he spotted Malfoy loitering in the Syltherin section with his goons. Harry sat with his back to them but didn't miss the infuriating smug look that Malfoy gave him before calling out, "where are your friends Potter? Did they finally realize you're not worth it anymore?"

She felt Harry talk a deep calming breath and felt his hands clenching and unclenching into fist as his inner battle to stay calm raged inside of him. She watched as his mind visualized Ron's and her face smiling at him before a wave of sadness and loneliness hit him hard as his meal materialized before him. He ignored the plate at first as his stomach gave a growl of protest and lingered on the thought of her face, the feeling of her arms around him a few months ago when they met up with him at the Burrow. She felt hit by a wave of emotions as he thought of her. She watched as he reached over running his hand over the spot on the table where she usually sat and he visualized her looking up from a book and giving him a smile.

She felt his heart speed up as he remembered the feeling of joy and relief as she hugged him that summer, remembered the smell of her hair, the feeling of her face buried in his neck. She hadn't meant to linger in the hug for that long, nor push the platonic boundaries and cling closer to him. But she missed him, and seeing him after a couple months of no communication was relief like rain from a long drought. Apparently he enjoyed it, as she felt warmth spread through his chest at the memory. She became aware that these were his private thoughts, that she knew she wasn't supposed to know, and it confused her as to what it all meant.

He had never given her an inkling of thought that he felt that way about her, and he never looked at her differently, not like he did with Cho last year.

The happy memory that he lingered on now was clouded by a sense of remorse, or regret, of. . . longing she realized with amazement. She never in her wildest dreams would imagine him to think of her this way, and Merlin knew, she only wished and hoped that he would for quite some time now. But she could sense his confliction, and clearly these feelings that they felt were not turning out the way either had wanted.

To her dismay she felt him give the thoughts of her a mental push away and think, "she my best friend," to himself. "Or was," she heard him think as another wave of sadness hit him as he finally started eating, the feeling that his appetite had vanished running through her.

She listened, as his mind was a jumbled web of thoughts as he pushed his meal around with his fork hardly eating it.

They don't understand.

Maybe it's for the best.

If Voldemort has returned, maybe staying away from them will protect them.

I can't be so dependent on them.

I can't be so dependent on her.

I miss her.

I want her.

I can't have her.

I'm in love with my best friend.

If she could gasp she would. Her emotions mixed with Harry's. Confusion. Hurt. Want. Need.

He finally gave up on dinner and with growing anticipation she realized he was headed back to the common room. He would find her there, appearing as though asleep on the couch. Would he walk right past her? Would he wake her up? Did he still care enough to wake her up to go up to her dormitory?

He told the Fat Lady the password and made his way inside. She felt his movement come to a halt and his stomach give a flutter. His eyes roamed the room and stopped. With a startling realization she felt as though he sensed her there before he even spotted her, and felt his legs move as if on autopilot toward her unconscious form.

She stared through his eyes at herself in awe. She looked down at herself as if not recognizing that it was herself, because through his eyes it was as if she appeared marginally different from what she saw every time she looked in the mirror. Through his eyes, and the feelings she felt burst though him, she felt beautiful. Her face was relaxed, a ghost of a smile on her lips as he neared, deep breaths taken as his eyes lingered on her chest. His vision blinked as if to snap out of it and his eyes made their way back to her face, pausing at her neck, focusing on a freckle that she hardly ever noticed on herself and felt his hand move as if it's own accord as if to touch it, and she waited longingly for him to do so.

His hand hovered and she felt his finger barely graze her neck, before he looked at her face again and pulled his hand away. He focused on her lips, and she felt his longing to kiss her, sending a thrill of excitement through her, and she wished she would break out of this spell the potion had put her in, and wake up.

"Hermione," he whispered gently nudging her to wake her up.

Nothing happened so he tried again this time saying her name louder and shook her gently at her shoulder his fingers moving to brush the hair out of her face. Still nothing and she felt him grow concerned.

"Hermione wake up," he said shaking her a little harder. She felt the images around her spin in a dizzying circle, and the last beat of Harry's heart as it pounded harder in his chest and knew she was being separated from him. She felt as though she was being sucked through a tightly squeezed tunnel, and everything fade to black as she floated back into herself.

She blinked drowsily slowly coming to. She could feel Harry shaking her frantically to wake up and faintly hear him say her name as if in panic.

"Blimey Hermione! You scared the living day lights out of me!" he said taking a deep calming breath when she finally opened her eyes. "I've been trying to wake you for the past ten minutes. I thought something bad happened to you," he said in a rush.

She just stared up at him a smile slowly forming on her face. He stared back confused. "Are you alright?" he asked.

For once she was speechless, as a blushed spread through her cheeks all the way down to her neck. He loved her, she was sure of it now, and she didn't know what to do. She slowly reached up and caressed his cheek. "I've missed you," she breathed out softly.

His eyes softened momentarily but confusion etched his face and he suddenly pulled away from her hand as if he had been burned. "You should head up to your dormitory," he mumbled, "it's getting late."

"I don't want to," she said stubbornly and touched his hand. He looked torn land looked away, anywhere but her eyes, and she could feel the distant pull of longing from him from the lingering effects of the potion.

"Harry, look at me. Please," she said. When he finally looked she felt a wave of her own courage spread through her, her true Gryffindor making itself known, as she slowly sat up and moved in to kiss him.

He looked startled; she could feel his heart pounding in his chest, as she drew closer. He suddenly pulled away. "What are you doing?" he blurted out.

"I want to kiss you," she said simply, trying to push away the hurt she felt at the rejection. "Don't you want me to?" she asked knowing the answer.

But what he said was opposite from the truth she had known.

"No," he said and got up practically running towards the boys dormitory.

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