Harry and Hermione, a fifth year head cannon
Hermione sat in the kitchen of 12 grimuld place staring at the plate next to her. She had laden it with sandwiches Mrs Weasley had prepared, and a large slice of treacle tart but Harry hadn't come down to eat it. He hardly ate anything anymore, just sat in the attic with buckbeak. She put down her own sandwich with a sigh, the usual scrumptious taste of Molly's sandwich's turning to cardboard. She leant back and closed her eyes, trying to shut out all the worry that was clinging doggedly to the back of her mind. Suddenly there was a hand on her shoulder, she jumped and snapped her eyes open to find herself looking into the concerned eyes of Molly Weasley.
"Has he not come down again?"
Hermione shook her head and her shoulders sagged slightly. Molly chewed her lip concernedly, looking at the empty place next to Hermione.
"I'm worried about him. Can you try to find out what's wrong; you're his best friend he might tell you."
"He never talks to anyone anymore, I'm not even sure we are still friends, it's like he's afraid to look at people."
Molly laughed then, such an unexpected sound it snapped Hermione out of her dark thoughts. She glanced sharply up at her. Molly was smiling.
"Trust me." She said with a small chuckle. "You are still friends; you can tell that in the way he looks at you."
Hermione inhaled so sharply that she choked. She looked up at Molly and tried to keep her voice level.
"What do you mean? 'How he looks at me?' "
Molly raised an eyebrow.
"I mean the way he looks at you when he thinks no one is looking. Rather the same way you look at him when you think no one is looking, so I think you know what I'm talking about."
Hermione stared at Molly for some moments, waiting for her voice to come back.
Molly smiled warmly at her and gestured to the plate next to her.
"Take those with you, that boy need to eat, don't leave till he eats the treacle tart."
Hermione left the kitchen without a word, her head was spinning as she crept past the portrait of Sirius' mother and up the stairs. Did she look at Harry so much that Molly had seen? She did have a crush on him for sure. He had always been her best friend, but it was during the third year, when Ron was so mean towards her that she really started to realise she saw him in a different, more complicated way then just a friend. She did look at him yes, but only because he wouldn't look anyone in the eye and it was the only way she could see how he was doing. She stopped abruptly bumping her head against the attic door.
She blinked a few times detaching herself from her day dream cleared her throat and knocked lightly on the door. No one answered, she gritted her teeth and knocked again louder than before but still the door remained shut. She cursed the fact she was not at school or else she would just use 'aloehamora' to open the door but insted she had to revert to pounding her palm continuously upon the door. After 5 minutes she recieved no reply and got a splinter from the rough wood. Pain, frustration and worry for Harry's well being turned to anger.
"Fine then." She snarled, "Stay in there, hide from everyone, hurt everyone who cares for you. Stay in there, shut the world out and Voldemort wins. But don't worry about us, you just cozy up in the attic with buckbeak and leave it all to us. Molly made sandwiches for you whenever you want to come out of your hidy hole."
She turned on her heal and went to walk away but a hand grabbed her wrist. She turned slowly to see Harry standing in front of her his eyes boring into hers. It was the first time he had looked at her since Voldemort had come back. Her heart did a nervous tap dance; she forgot how intense those green eyes were.
He looked pale and shaky, his eyes were brighter than normal and he was breathing rapidly. He took a step toward her and she realised he had grown, he was a head taller than her now. He stumbled forward another step and put his arms around her hanging his neck over her shoulder.
"I'm sorry." He whispered into her hair sending chills down her back. His voice broke. "I'm sorry.
All the anger that had flared up in her drained away as Harry leaned against her. She reached her arms up and hugged him tightly.
"I'm sorry for yelling at you. I'm just worried about you. We all are."
"I know." Harry pulled away and took her wrists in his hands, looking into her eyes. "That's what worries me. Arthur protected me, worried about me, and he nearly died. You and Ron have protected me, worried for me, cared about me and look at how many times you have been in serious danger, because of me."
"If Voldemort gets to you we will be in more serious danger then we ever were. We will only be safe when he is killed once and for all, and if that means we protect you then you can lock yourself away all you like, but it won't work, we will always worry, we will always care," She dropped her eyes. "I will always care."
She turned to head down the stairs when Harry grabbed her wrist again. She didn't turn.
"Please Hermione."
His voice was very low and the intensity made her stomach bubble.
She turned slowly to find his eyes locked to hers. He took a step forward his breath rapid, and kissed her feverishly on the lips. He broke away just as quickly looking dazed and shocked.
"Sorry." He whispered. "I will care about you always too."
He offered her a small shy smile and she saw some of the old happiness in his eyes. She couldn't help smiling in return. Her brain was whirling. She cleared her throat.
"Molly made treacle tart. Please come down and eat something, you are losing all the weight Molly worked so hard to put on in the summer."
This brought a sputtering laugh from Harry which turned to a giggle, Hermione joined in, she couldn't help it. It had been so long since they had last laughed together. When they couldn't breathe anymore they headed down the stairs creeping past Sirius mother and down the hallway to the kitchen.
She heard Harry's stomach rumble and she raised her eyebrow. Harry caught her eye and blushed.
"Sorry. I haven't eaten much lately."
They entered the kitchen. Ron called Harry over where he was having a discussion about quidditch with a visiting member of the order and Harry grinned. Then Molly approached him fussing over his shirt and hair and handing him sandwiches to eat which he accepted gratefully. He caught her eye from across the kitchen and blushed and grinned bashfully. She felt her own face grow warm and her lips tingle.
He returned to his conversation and although he wasn't as happy as he used to be it was a start.
It was something to build on, something to fight for.