Chapter One

Everything was quiet on Privet Drive one cool July night. The trees whispered in their strange voices, birds hummed sleepily. Soon the time would come for them to open up in song, so as to greet the dawn. Grasshoppers had just finished the orchestra they played each night, their legs as their instruments. Everything was peaceful.

No one seemed to notice the tall, thin boy standing in the middle of the road, his baggy clothes hanging in folds around his body. The boy's long, shaggy, jet black hair blew slightly as the wind stirred it, and his bright green eyes were tinged with sadness.

That "Potter boy", of number four, had been acting strange this summer, the neighbors all agreed. He was never seen outside the house during the day, and if a person had to go to the loo in the middle of the night, they would see him just standing there. Mrs. Number 7 swore (which she didn't do all that often) that she had seen another person, possibly a girl, come up to him, but the boy had just shaken her off.

Harry Potter was not an ordinary boy, even in the world that he belonged. And now he was wallowing in grief for his headmaster and mentor Albus Dumbledore who had died at the end of the school year. He sighed and his hand clenched around the small golden locket he always carried in his pocket.

Who could it be? he wondered for the millionth time, his sad green eyes searching the perfect lawns around him, as if they could answer his question R.A.B…..Where have I heard that before?

It was no use. Harry just couldn't remember. He couldn't remember feeling this frustrated since his first year, looking for the name Nicholas Flamel. Harry's heart then filled will sorrow as he remembered where finally found Flamel's name; the back of Dumbledore's Chocolate Frog trading card.

I miss that old man……I wonder if he's still addicted to sweets up in heaven he thought, trying to make a joke out of it.

But it was no joke. Dumbledore was gone, though Harry couldn't believe he was forever. Dumbledore had always been there, offering condolence, and guidance, so he couldn't be…..

Harry sighed again, and threw his hand through his dark hair, an old habit of his. Quietly, so as not to disturb the peace, he walked back to Number four Privet Drive.

Page Break

The next day was chaos. It was July 31st, Harry's birthday, and Hermione wouldn't rest until he had some sort of celebration.

"It will help with, well you know…." She had said awkwardly.

Harry had just shrugged in reply. He knew he was cutting himself off from his friends, but he couldn't help feeling responsible for Dumbledore's death.

Stop it! he scolded himself in his mind you know Dumbledore wouldn't want you to feel that way!

But still Harry felt like he should have been able to do something, anything. So, after Dumbledore's funeral, instead of mulling it over and over in his head, Harry began to search feverishly for R.A.B. He was certain he had heard the name before, or at least the initials, but where? Why would he remember hearing the initials of someone he had never met and who must have been close to Voldemort? It made no sense.

Harry felt a hand on his shoulders and he looked up into a pair of worried brown eyes. Hermione.

"Harry?" she asked him quietly, so as not to disturb Ron, who was in the corner, reading Quidditch through the Ages once again, and "Are you okay? You've been staring into space for the last ten minutes."

Trust Hermione to notice that Harry thought wryly, as he offered a small, insincere smile at his best friend.

"I'm fine Hermione, don't worry," he told her, slightly guilty at lying to her. It also made him feel ten times worse when she gave him that look that said 'We both know that's not true.'

"No you're not," Hermione stated, firmly though still quiet, "Come on, we're going outside."

And yelling a goodbye to Ron, who just waved them off, she took Harry's elbow and propelled him out of the Dursley's house, towards the park.

Reaching a small bench, Hermione sat Harry down, and placed herself beside him.

"Okay," she said, brushing her not so bushy hair away from her face, "Now I want to know one thing: why are you pushing Ron and me away? You know we'd be able to help you better than anyone! We're your best friends Harry! When something's bothering you or upsetting you, you have to let us know!"

Harry glanced down at his shoes, uncomfortable. Then he sighed, and looked back up at her, the dark brown eyes worried with her hands thrown out in case he needed a hug. Despite himself Harry had to smile, as it was funny to him she knew the one thing he needed so desperately, but was too ashamed to ask. His eyes then filled with sadness, and he looked as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders.

"Because," Harry said finally, with the voice of someone admitting a wrong they didn't want to do, "Dumbledore's death was my fault."

"But Harry that's not true—"

Harry held up a hand, "Yes it is. I was there. I should have been able to do something, anything, but—"he broke off abruptly, slashing the back of his hand across his eyes, "Something caught in my eye," he muttered for an excuse.

"But that's not all Hermione. It's R.A.B., trying to figure out how I'm supposed to defeat Voldemort if I barely escaped the last time, that basterd Snape—"Harry broke off for the second time, his eyes now glowing with anger and hate. A low unconscious growl rose from the back of his throat as he pictured that slim bag.

Hermione took one look at Harry's face before pulling him into a tight, rib cracking hug that nearly broke his spine. Silently she rubbed his back up and down and stayed quiet, offering her silent support.

Harry allowed himself to be comforted for a few moments, burying his face in the crook of Hermione's neck and taking deep breaths. She smells like peaches he thought, his hand gripping her shoulder tightly. Then he shoved her away and ran from the park bench, heading for a place that was far away from the comfort of his friends and the smell of peaches.

He would not allow himself to be comforted. Not this time.

Page Break

Harry arrived home late that night, his hair sopping with the unexpected rain that had swept through Privet Drive. He kicked a chair moodily, and stomped upstairs to his room.

"BOY! I WON'T HAVE YOU KICKING FURNITURE! THAT'S AN EXPENSIVE CHAIR!" roared Uncle Vernon from the kitchen.

Harry wanted to yell something back, but he was so wet, miserable and tired, he just couldn't. Without turning on the light, he sat on the edge of his bed, pulled off his shoes, and feel into the mattress fully dressed.

And sprang back up again, stifling a yell.

There was something in his bed. Something warm and soft. Trying to calm down, Harry crept around the bed, to his window, and opened the curtain, to let the moon shine through. What he saw there surprised him.

Hermione was lying in his bed, dressed in a loose pair of pajama pants and a tank top. Harry stared at her in shock, before she opened her eyes, wakened by the moon's bright light. Seeing Harry standing beside her she started and let out a small gasp of surprise.

"I—I had a nightmare," she stuttered, "I thought you might have come back by now, so I checked, but you were gone, so I just sat down, and I must have fell asleep. I'll leave—"

"No, stay," Harry said, finding his voice at last, and grabbed Hermione's wrist lightly.

She looked at him in slight shock. He offered a guilty smile, "I'm your friend Hermione, and I don't want to let you go back to your room alone if you have nightmares that frighten you that much. Besides since I skipped out on the stuff you had planned out……."

Hermione nodded and lay back down, underneath his worn covers this time. Harry watched as she yawned lightly and her eyes began to droop.

"Thanks Harry. G'night."

"Night Hermione," he replied softly before grabbing his stuff to go change. When he walked back in the room, dressed in his nightwear, Hermione had already fallen asleep. Smiling he tucked the covers around her, kissing her forehead before climbing into bed himself.

Page Break

Harry yawned, still half asleep, and pulled his teddy bear closer to him. Then something occurred to him; I don't have a teddy bear…. Harry opened his eye a crack to see a mass of bushy brown hair in front of him. He must have pulled Hermione into him in his sleep, and now she was curled into his chest. Without thinking, Harry ran his hands up and down her stomach, telling her to wake up by tickling her. Just as Hermione yelped and opened a bleary eye, Harry heard a door open, and two gasps of astonishment. Then one, no two, angry voices saying together:

"HARRY POTTER WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH HERMIONE!"

Harry groaned, rolled over, and then groaned again as he saw the two very angry red heads looking at him.

"Hullo Ginny, Ron," he managed to say, "Lovely day isn't it?" He wasn't able to manage any feeling of horror or embarrassment at being caught tickling a girl using him as a pillow by his best friend and former girlfriend. It was too early for that. Ron glared at him, as Hermione sat up behind Harry, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

"What'd going o—Oh," she said, seeing the Weasley siblings, "Uh-oh."

"We weren't doing anything," Harry said earnestly, "She had a nightmare, and it was late, so I let her stay her—Hang on," he stopped what he was saying as it occurred to him Ginny shouldn't be in his room at all, "Ginny when did you get here? Why are you here?"

Ginny softened slightly at the mention of a nightmare, but her face was still tense, "I got here just now. Mum sent me so you could find the place for Bill and Fleur's wedding. It is tomorrow you know. Are you sure you two weren't—" she said slowly.

"No," Hermione answered, "I just had a nightmare, and I was scared so I asked if I could stay here the night. He let me stay here because he didn't want me to be scared. That's it," she added to Ron, who looked, if possible, almost angrier than before.

"It's not like you'd say if you'd done anything anyway," he said, snorting and looking away.

Harry rose halfway out of the bed obviously annoyed, "If we'd have done anything we would be honest and tell the trust Ron. Next time listen before you assume anything."

Ron just glared and muttered something that sounded like 'stupid bloody prick' before storming out of the room angrily.

"Oh for heaven's sake," Hermione snorted, her eyes annoyed, "I suppose I'll have to go talk to him. I wish he could actually think in that head of his though."

Ginny rolled her eyes, "Me too. I'll go talk to him though; you two will need your sleep."

Harry yawned again and sank into bed as sleepiness overcame his tension, "What time is it?" he asked.

"7:16 a.m. according to your clock," Ginny said promptly, offering a terse smile before turning and leaving the room.

"Well now that's that's over…….G'night love," Harry said with a smile, nestling back into his bed with relief.

Hermione started and stared at him with wide eyes, "What did you just call me!" she demanded.

"Love Hermione. It's a term of affection. You're my best friend; therefore I use it for you. G'night," And after that simple explanation, Harry was asleep.

Hermione sighed, almost in disappointment, "Best friend huh? If only you knew," she whispered into Harry's ear, before lying down and sleeping once more.

A.N. And...That's it! Please stay tuned for the next chapter!