Disclaimer: I own none of the characters. I own the plot. I don't own anything you recognize. Bridgette.

Harry Potter and Ron Weasley were nearly falling off their chairs as they laughed at something Remus Lupin said about one of James' many 'brilliant' plans to catch Lily's attention. Hermione smiled as she watched them, sitting on the sidelines of the conversation. She sat on the sidelines because she didn't feel as though she belonged, as Ron had reminded her on many occasions. In fact, her situation seemed quite obvious to everyone but Harry.

Harry. He was always so kind to her, always there for her. All he did anymore was make sure she felt at home, completely oblivious to the fact that Ron's apparent mission was to do the exact opposite. He was the sweetest, most caring person she had ever met. But she still wasn't as relevant to him as Ron was. She just didn't measure up.

Ron. Sure, his sarcastic comments about her love of homework didn't always come off as sarcastic. Sometimes they hit to close to home for comfort, but he truly appreciated it when she helped him with his homework. The constant rows and arguments kept life interesting, too. Not that they'd needed it with Lupin for at teacher.

Remus. A former teacher and current shoulder to cry on. Ever since she had discovered the whole werewolf issue in third year, he'd been there for her whenever she needed to confess something and couldn't tell Harry or Ron. He was so hard to shock that his expression didn't even flicker when she announced something outrageous. Like her crush on Ron in fourth year. Or that time when she'd fancied Terry Boot back in fifth. Not even when she confessed that she was totally and completely in love with Harry, despite her current position as someone else's girlfriend.

"Hey, Hermione!" Ginny called from across the room where Fred and George were testing Puking Pastilles on Mrs. Weasley's chicken. Don't ever eat chicken here, Hermione thought ruefully.

"Yes, Ginny." She answered. Ginny was nearly bursting from her skin, despite Hermione's sullen attitude. Ginny came rushing over, looking ecstatic.

"Doesn't Harry look ravishing?" The younger girl giggled. Hermione rolled her eyes. Of course he did. He was Harry. It was natural for him to look ravishing.

"Yes, Ginny." She repeated in a bored tone. Ginny didn't seem to notice Hermione's lack of gossip enthusiasm and kept up a steady stream of Harry-Is-Perfect-isms.

Oh, Merlin, get me out of here!

OoOoO

Click. Hermione looked up from her copy of Hogwarts: A History to see Harry's head poking tentatively through the crack of her door. She smiled. If anyone could get her out of this blob of self-pity, it was Harry.

"Hey, you." She called softly, so as to not wake the sleeping Ginny across her room. Harry jumped at the sound of her voice. Realizing who was speaking, he smiled slightly, the corners of his mouth barely crinkling in the faint dawn light.

Hermione closed her eyes and listened to the faint sound of feet padding across carpet towards her bed. The footsteps stopped to the left of her head and she felt the warm cocoon of quilts and comforters being lifted. The mattress creaked beside her and sunk down under weight. What pressed against her side was even warmer than her cocoon. It was Harry.

"Hi. I thought you'd be asleep." He said softly, the hair that hung from his head tickling her nose as he lay over her.

" Yeah? And what did you plan on doing with a room full of sleeping girls, you little creep?" She teased quietly as she looked up into his sparkling green eyes. He raised an eyebrow at her un-Hermione-like remark.

"I watch you sleep. It's very calming, you know, after one of those nightmares I get. I listen to you breathing. Sometimes I come just to make sure you're still alive. You wouldn't believe how many dreams I've had about Voldemort forcing me to kill you. Those are the worst." He whispered, pressing his lips to hers in a friendly kiss. Oh, how she wished she could pull him down onto her and snog him like she wanted to.

I'm still here. I always will be, Harry." Hermione breathed, losing control of her longing for him. She had to do something to regain control and she had to do it fast. She probed her mind for any subject that didn't involve Harry ravaging her senseless. "But it's a bit odd that you watch me sleep. You don't crawl into bed with me then, do you?"

"What? Merlin, no! You don't seriously think I'd…I'd…do something to you, right? 'Cause I respect you." Harry spluttered. Judging by the red-faced look of determination to keep from blushing, he had thought about it.

"Harry." She laughed softly. He turned his head ever so slightly to give her a sidelong glance, but there was no way he would look completely at her until the heat had left his face fully.

"Um...yeah?" He replied nervously.

"I was kidding."

"Oh. Right. Yeah."

"You come in here after those dreams. What happened tonight?" Hermione asked, suddenly serious and rather worried for her best friend. Now that the topic was off his creepy nighttime peeps at Hermione, Harry turned to look at her.

"I haven't been to sleep yet." Harry answered in a soft, tender voice. The warmness of his tone surprised Hermione, but made her stomach flutter nonetheless.

"Why? You know you need sleep!" She scolded him like a mother would her five year old who had been caught stealing cookies before dinner. He smiled, loving how she chastised him, making him feel like he had a family. He found it quite comforting to have a 'mother' that went everywhere with him.

"That's rich, coming from you. Need I remind you that you were reading again when I came in?" He teased as he twisted a long strand of her perfect curls around his calloused index finger. He toyed with it a moment, sliding his thumb over the smooth shininess of golden brown silk before speaking again, loving how he could make her blush. "I'm worried about you."

"Oh." Was all she could say. Did Harry know her so well that he could read he feelings and insecurities? It was that way for her with him. If Harry was scared, she always knew, even if he didn't let it show.

"Yeah, 'oh'. You belong here, Hermione. We love you; need you. Ron appreciates you more than he might let on, you know. And Ginny considers you to be her best friend. Fred and George think you could be brilliant at pranking if you let loose some of the rules, let them be guidelines instead of requirements. Percy had a crush on you last year. Gross, I know. Charlie reckons your good for Ron. Can't argue that; he's a right git sometimes. Bill, well, Bill would most likely marry you if he weren't engaged to Fleur. You should hear that bloke talk about how wonderful you are. Molly and Arthur care about you just like you were their own daughter." Harry told her sternly. She held an uncertain half-smile on her face as if expecting him to go on. When he didn't, her nearly happy look vanished to be replaced with a slightly cold one.

"Goodnight. Thank you, but I don't need an update on what the Weasleys think of me." She said in a low hiss. She stared at him coldly for a moment before flopping over on her side and facing away from him. When she had met his gaze, he could have sworn there was a flicker of hurt.

Harry slid onto his hands and knees, proceeding to crawl over her and take her face in his hands, forcing her to look at him.

"You didn't honestly think I'd leave myself out of that, did you?" He smiled. "I might love you as much as all the rest put together. You're everything to me. A family, a friend, a teacher, a lifesaver, and even something as simple as something pretty to look at after a horrible day. You taught me to feel, Hermione. To live, to love. I owe you my soul for that."

Tears rolled down Hermione's face as Harry's sweet words hit her ears like music. He looked panicked for a moment before she grabbed him in a hug.

"I think you're wrong about the others, Harry. They only see my usefulness, how much I can help them. You might be grateful for me, but they aren't. For them, I'm intellectual gain." She sobbed into his chest, releasing months of pain and pent up sorrow. He simply lay there, sliding his fingers through her hair comfortingly.

Harry let her cry, glancing every so often at Ginny to be sure she was still asleep, until her sobs softened to the occasional hiccough and sniffle. He slid from the bed, untangling his limbs from where they were wrapped happily around hers, and leaned down to press a comforting kiss to her lips.

"I'm not grateful for you. I pray to God every night that you'll still be here in the morning. Being grateful is like taking something for granted. I know you have the choice of walking away at any second you decide. I know you might be gone when I wake up and that scares the shit out of me."

And with that, he left her to slip into a soft, reassured slumber.