Background:
Hermione is Head Girl, and Harry gave Ron Captaincy of the Quidditch team because he wouldn't have time to manage both that and Head Boy duties. The Golden Trio discussed their options with Professor McGonagall; if they agreed to return she would give them unrestricted access to the Restricted Section, amongst other places, they would have no curfew, and could leave the school when necessary. Harry agreed with the Professor, who also hoped Harry and Hermione would return because with them present at the school more students would stay, as they would feel safer with the pair there. Professor Dumbledore's portrait has told Professor McGonagall all about the Horcruxes as she was both trustworthy, and could help the Trio.
Most importantly, in the summer holidays after sixth year, the Trio, along with Ginny, Neville and Luna, stayed in Grimmauld Place and underwent training.
Harry and Ron were standing facing each other in the otherwise empty boys' seventh year dorms. Just an hour earlier Harry had come down from the Head Boy's Room to wake Ron, to see if he wanted to go play Quidditch. Now, Ron's face was red with frustration, screwed up in anger, and his fists were clenched by his sides. Harry stood tall and straight, and anyone would have thought he was perfectly calm, apart from the fury raging in his emerald green eyes.
"You don't know what you're talking about," said Harry, in a controlled voice.
"I bloody well do! I am fed up of just being known as Harry Potter's best friend. I've put up with it for six years. You have no idea how hard it is to be me; you have it easy, always the centre of attention, I bet you love it don't you?!" spat Ron spitefully.
"Ron. You are not just known as 'Harry Potter's best friend'," Harry spoke in a forced low voice, struggling to keep from shouting, "Besides, do you honestly think that I enjoy having people stare at me constantly, in the hallways, in the streets? Everywhere I go people whisper as I pass." Harry's eyes flashed dangerously as he continued, "Easy? To be me? First year I was almost killed by Voldemort," he spat out the name as if it was a bad taste in his mouth, "saving the philosopher's stone. Second year I almost died in Salazar Slytherin's secret chamber, fighting Riddle and his basilisk. Third year I saved Sirius by fighting off hundreds of dementors, only to have that backstabbing rat Pettigrew escape." Harry spat out Pettigrew's name with the same venom as he had Voldemort's. "Fourth year I was entered into the Triwizard Tournament by an insane Death Eater, and faced a Hungarian Horntail, grindylows, blast ended skrewts and sphinxes. And when I got past them? I was port-keyed to the Riddle graveyard where I saw Cedric murdered and Voldemort return, before duelling with him and escaping back to Hogwarts with Cedric's body. As if that wasn't enough the person I thought was Mad-eye Moody then tried to kill me." Now he had started Harry found that he couldn't stop. The words tumbled from his mouth before he could stop them, even though every word was a painful reminder. "At the start of fifth year I had to fight dementors to save myself and Dudley, nearly getting expelled for it before being trialled by the full Wizengamot. Then I found nearly everyone in the wizarding world was convinced I was an insane, attention-seeking liar. Every night Voldemort sent me visions of the people he had tortured, and I was tricked into thinking that my godfather was being tortured in the department of mysteries, which resulted in his death, and me being possessed by Voldemort." At this Ron blanched slightly, Harry hadn't told anyone about that. Harry carried on. "Sixth year I was forced to watch helplessly whilst Dumbledore was almost murdered by Snape, after we came back from attempting to destroy what turned out to be a fake Horcrux. I am famous because Voldemort killed my parents, and when he then turned his wand on me, I survived. And you're telling me that I have no idea how hard it is to be you." finished Harry coldly. Ron opened his mouth to make an angry retort, but couldn't think of anything to say, glaring instead. Harry held his gaze unflinchingly, before walking past the immobile figure without looking back once. A few minutes later Ron walked down to the common room, still seething with an anger that an annoying voice, sounding suspiciously like his conscience, was telling him was unfair. Ron pushed the voice ruthlessly aside.
Harry sat by the lake, leaning back against a gnarled old oak, almost completely hidden from view by the thick, twisting roots. He watched the sun set, infusing the clouds and sky with pinks and purples, sending oranges and reds spreading across the water, the glassy surface of the lake shattered here and there by some surfacing creature, or by the lazy tentacles of the giant squid. He closed his eyes and listened. It was quiet in the grounds, as it was getting late and most people had gone inside. He could hear the unnatural rustling of the leaves of the forbidden forest, the sounds carried to him on a light breeze which ruffled his hair and brought the sounds of whispered conversations to his ears. Couples speaking to each other in hushed tones, as if speaking any louder could break the fragile beauty of the evening. His thoughts drifted to the girl he wished was here sharing this moment with him. He breathed in deeply and imagined the smell of her gentle perfume, pictured her kind intelligent eyes, wavy chestnut hair flowing silkily down her back.
"Hermione…" he breathed to himself, so softly that anyone near him would have just heard a sad sigh. Why did he have to fall so deeply and irrevocably in love with his best friend? She couldn't possibly ever love him as more than a brother; if he told her it would just ruin their friendship, and Harry didn't think he could stand that. Besides, what did he have to offer her, more danger? She deserved someone better. She –
"Harry?" came a quietly inquisitive voice, making Harry jump, "Harry are you okay? I haven't seen you all day…" Hermione looked down at Harry, with a concerned expression. He looked up at her with his electric green eyes that seemed to sparkle with intelligence and power. It was typical really, of all the guys she could have fallen for, she had to go and fall in love with her best friend, The Chosen One, no less. His messy black hair made her want to run her fingers through it like he did every day, and it took all her concentration not to get lost in the depths of his eyes. She couldn't tell him how she felt though, she was sure he loved her as a sister and she didn't think she could bear it if she spoilt their friendship.
"Hey Mione," Harry replied, trying to ignore the way his heart beat faster when she sat next to him.
"Harry, please tell me what happened. Ron has been storming round the common room all day, and he… well… he's been talking about you." she finished. Why am I not surprised? Harry thought bitterly.
"Nothing Mione, we just had a…slight disagreement." Harry lied, deliberately not meeting her eye.
"The last time you two had a 'disagreement' this big it was because he was jealous of – oh!" Harry had flinched involuntarily and Hermione broke off, shocked. "Oh no, he didn't…not again…" She trailed off worriedly. Harry's shoulders stiffened visibly and he kept his attention fixed on the grass at his feet.
"Harry what did he say this time?" He remained silent for a moment, gathering his thoughts. Taking a deep breath, he started to recount the afternoon's events. When Harry finished his story all that could be seen of the sun was a glowing halo around one of the huge green hills that surrounded the lake.
"Harry you know he didn't mean it, he just doesn't understand how hard it is for you."
"Yeah. I know," he admitted. There was a brief lull in the conversation. "That's…that's not all that's bothering me though." He continued hesitantly. "There's something else I have to tell you. Do you remember that prophecy?" Hermione nodded, she had been unconscious at the time but Neville had told her how it had smashed. "Well, that was just a record of it. The actual prophecy was made by Professor Trelawney." Hermione's eyes went wide but she stayed quiet, "Dumbledore went to the Hogs Head Inn in Hogsmeade to meet her for her job interview, and was just about to tell her he was afraid she wasn't suitable when she made that prophecy. She doesn't know. Voldemort had a Death Eater in Hogsmeade and he heard part of the prophecy, but not the whole thing, which is why he killed my parents." After a short pause he finished in a hardened voice leaden with hate and sorrow,
"…It was Snape."
Hermione listened dumbstruck.
"What did the prophecy say?" She asked tentatively a moment later. Quietly Harry recited the words that seemed to be etched permanently on his mind.
"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches … born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies … and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not … and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives … the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord with be born as the seventh month dies …"
The silence that followed this was heavy, Hermione breaking it saying
"But that means…"
"One of us has got to kill the other. I know." Harry finished for her, as she seemed unable to say it herself. Hermione's eyes widened.
"Oh Harry!" she exclaimed, and being Hermione, flung her arms around his neck. Harry buried his face in her hair and hugged her back, her warm weight comforting against him. Harry felt a huge surge of gratitude towards her for not abandoning him.
"Thanks," he muttered a few moments later, drawing back.
"Come on, let's get back to the castle, its getting dark." Hermione said, holding out her hand to help him up. I have to have a few words with Ron, she thought grimly.
They reached the Gryffindor common room and Hermione squeezed Harry's hand encouragingly before dropping it to push open the portrait of the Fat Lady. Silence fell as Harry appeared in the portrait hole, and many pairs of hostile eyes turned to look at him. Neville and Ginny got up from the armchairs by the fireplace and went to stand by Hermione and Harry, glaring back.
"Harry I think you should go to sleep." Hermione murmured in a firm voice, so only he could hear. Harry tiredly agreed and gave them all a small smile of thanks before making his way up to the boys' dormitory, as it was nearer than the Heads' dorms. He dropped fully-clothed onto the bed and was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, so did not hear Hermione's words ringing through the silent common room.
"Ronald Weasley, come here right this second." Hermione said coldly, matching Ginny's glare. Ron came over with a defiant expression on his face. "I have just spoken to Harry," she said as Ron paled slightly, "and he told me about your little … 'disagreement' earlier this afternoon. Would you care to explain to the rest of Gryffindor what exactly happened?" she paused, "…or shall I?" Ron mumbled something incoherent and Hermione glared at him. Turning to the many now confused faces watching the scene in front of them she said, "I am disappointed that some of you have believed what Ronald has said about Harry today. What happened to your Gryffindor loyalty? I am afraid what he said wasn't true, and what he said was wrong, and I think he knows what to do now. I won't humiliate him further." She turned to Ron and hissed in a quiet voice so only he could hear her, "The thing that smashed in the department of mysteries was only a record. Dumbledore heard the actual prophecy and showed it to Harry. Do you know what it said?" She laughed bitterly. "The Daily Prophet got it right for once. Harry is the 'Chosen One'." The words left a sour taste in her mouth. She took a deep breath and carried on, speaking slowly, deliberately, making sure her next words sunk in. "The fate of the world depends on Harry; no one else has the power to kill Voldemort. The prophecy says that in the end Harry has to kill Voldemort or Voldemort has to kill him. They can't both survive." Ron gaped, face white. "And you just reminded him of that." She snapped. She narrowed her eyes at him, looking pointedly at the stairs leading to the boys' dormitory then back at Ron. He took the hint, following Harry's footsteps up to the dormitory. Hermione watched him leave, making sure he had gone up to apologise before she, Ginny and Neville went back to their places by the fire.
Ron trudged up the stairs, his shame growing. He knew he'd overreacted earlier and felt bad for giving Harry another thing to worry about on top of everything else he had to deal with. He opened the door and walked over to where Harry lay sprawled on top of the covers.
"Harry," he said, giving him a small shake, "Harry mate, wake up."
Harry sat up, blinking groggily.
"Ron? What is it?" he asked.
"Look Harry, I've been a right git, and I just wanted to say I'm sorry, I mean I know what you're going through, I shouldn't have just blown up at you like that."
"It's all right," said Harry, relieved to be on speaking terms with Ron again, "I shouldn't have had a go at you either."
Ron grinned, "Thanks mate." he said happily, "Look, I'll leave you to get some sleep and see you in the morning." Harry grinned back,
''Yeah yeah, bugger off and gather up the courage to kiss Luna or something,'' he grinned. Ron mock-punched Harry in the shoulder and turned an interesting shade of fuchsia, but went back down to the Gryffindor Common Room in a considerably better mood.
Harry woke late on Saturday morning and blearily rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Grabbing some clean clothes he went to have a shower and get ready. When he was fully awake he went down to the Great Hall where Ron and Hermione were waiting for him and the trio chatted happily over breakfast, glad they were all talking again. Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the owls, gliding through the windows in a flurry of feathers. A sleek, black eagle owl swooped low over the Gryffindor Table and landed neatly in front of Hermione, folding its wings and surveying the surrounding owls superciliously. Hermione untied the envelope from the owl's leg, and it immediately took off, becoming indistinguishable from the rest of the owls leaving the Hall.
"I wonder who it's from," Hermione pondered out loud. Puzzled, she turned the envelope over. The envelope read Hermione Granger in cursive writing, and was closed with an unadorned lilac wax seal on the back. She looked back at the writing and shivered; the deep purple ink that flowed across the paper filled her with foreboding, and seemed somehow ominous. She pushed the feeling aside and pulled open the envelope, extracting the letter within. The effect was immediate. The moment the letter left the envelope the seal burst into lilac flames, emitting copious amounts of choking purple smoke. Harry and Ron just had time to see Hermione's eyes flutter closed and the letter fall from her hands before the smoke hid her from view completely.
"Mione!" Harry shouted, jumping up and thrusting his hands into the smoke to drag her out. She lay limp and unconscious in Harry's arms, and in a split second Harry noticed she wasn't breathing. He sprinted from the Great Hall, Ron having the presence of mind to lunge for the letter before following hot on Harry's heels. Without noticing what he was doing Harry focussed fleetingly on the door of the Hospital Wing and it slammed open, making Madam Pomfrey jump and turn to stare at whoever was making such a God-awful racket in her sacred Hospital Wing. Harry ran to the closest bed and lay Hermione down as gently as he could.
"Madam Pomfrey!" he shouted, panting, "A letter, in the Great Hall, purple flames, smoke…" he managed to gasp out. Her eyes widened and she raced over to a cupboard, flinging the doors open and searching frantically through the shelves. Seconds later she found it, a miniscule glass phial, made of ornately decorated glass, twisting up to a point where a little glass stopper sat. She wrenched out the stopper, dropping it on the floor where it shattered, and hastily poured the contents of the phial down Hermione's throat. Hermione drew in a deep, rattling breath, and as she breathed out a trickle of purple smoke floated from between her lips and dissipated into the air. Madam Pomfrey let out a sigh of relief and collapsed into a chair, causing Harry and Ron let out the breaths they didn't realise they had been holding.
"Is she – will she be okay?" Ron asked, subconsciously clutching the parchment in his hand tighter.
"She … she should be okay … but she won't regain consciousness for at least a week. Thank God you got her here so quickly," she said, turning to Harry, "just a few more seconds and it would've been too late." During his numerous trips to the hospital wing Harry had never seen Madam Pomfrey like this. Her face was pale and she was shaking. "The curse," she began unsteadily, "is very rare, and extremely dangerous," here she glanced down at where Hermione lay, breathing erratically, "It hasn't been used for many years. Not since…Since…"
A foreboding, chilling sense of clarity washed over Harry in an icy wave.
"…Voldemort." Harry finished for her. She flinched at the name but nodded slowly, eyes wide and fearful.
"I can't bear to think what would've happened if we hadn't had any Libertus Respiratus…" she whispered. A shiver ran down their spines and Harry clutched tightly at Hermione's hand.
"Well … That's the best that can be done; all we can do now is wait, and hope. I will leave you two with her for a while." she said, regaining a little of her brisk efficiency. They sat in silence, watching Hermione's breathing slowly even out, and a light pinkish tinge return to her pallid face, but her eyes remained closed. A few moments later McGonagall entered the Hospital Wing and hastened to where Harry and Ron sat on either side of Hermione. She looked over at Hermione, and satisfied that everything possible had been done, turned her attention to Harry and Ron.
"The letter. What did it say?" she asked shortly. The two boys started, they had completely forgotten about the letter. Ron unclenched his fist and held the crumpled ball of parchment out to McGonagall, who smoothed it out and looked at it, eyes flashing across the page. At once her expression darkened with anger. She held the parchment out to Harry wordlessly. The moment Harry laid eyes on it his expression changed to match McGonagall's, and the letter started to singe where he held it. He dropped it as though touching it revolted him. Ron gasped as he saw it. The yellowing parchment was blank except for a single image in the centre of the page. A green tinged skull leered at them, a serpent slithering through an eye socket, its flickering tongue seemingly taunting them in silent, mocking laughter.
Harry looked at Hermione's face, everything else around her seemed blurred, unreal. He held her hand softly. Her eyes stayed closed, though her chest rose and fell as she breathed…
Don't die 'Mione…
I need you,
…I love you…
Madam Pomfrey came bustling over to where Harry and Ron had kept vigil at Hermione's bedside all morning, Professor McGonagall had returned to the Headmistress' office some hours before.
"You can come back this evening," she informed them, "though she may not wake up for at least a week." Ron took a last look at Hermione before standing and beginning to leave the hospital wing. He had reached the door before he realised that Harry wasn't following, but was still sitting next to Hermione holding her hand, seemingly oblivious to everything else going on around him.
"Harry?" Ron said questioningly. "Harry mate, we have to go." When Harry remained motionless, he frowned, puzzled, and walked back towards him. Ron reached forward to shake Harry's shoulder, only to find that his hand met with something solid before he got anywhere near him. Seeing nothing he gently pushed at what he was touching, but still couldn't get any closer to either Harry or Hermione. Beginning to get frustrated he shoved hard at the invisible wall, then yelped in surprise and pain as a blue sphere appeared, crackling with power, surrounding Harry and Hermione. He stumbled backwards and the sphere disappeared once more. When he had pushed against the force-field he had felt a painful shock travel up his arm. He frowned, and his expression of puzzlement mirrored Madam Pomfrey's, before a look of dawning comprehension passed across her face.
"Mr. Weasley, would you please fetch Professor McGonagall from her office. I believe she will want to be notified of this."
Harry remained by Hermione, oblivious to the entrance of a bewildered Ron, leading a curious McGonagall. Seeing her two favourite students a smile crept across McGonagall's face. Ron had told her what had happened when he had tried to shake Harry's shoulder.
"Yes," started McGonagall, looking immensely pleased," Harry is subconsciously using wordless, wandless magic. He has successfully constructed a magical barrier around himself and Hermione so that no one can reach them without first breaking down the barrier. To do so they would have to be more powerful than Harry himself, or merely wait until he lets it down." Ron's jaw dropped. Wandless magic took the most powerful witches and wizards years to master, and Harry was doing it without even realising.
"Bloody hell…" was his response. McGonagall chuckled, "Indeed Mr. Weasley," she said, raising an eyebrow. Ron's ears turned rapidly red.
"Well…erm…Could you not just lower the shield Professor?" he asked. McGonagall contemplated this for a moment, though looking dubious. She held out her hand, palm facing the invisible wall surrounding Harry and Hermione, and Ron felt the room hum and buzz with magic.
"No, I don't believe I can Mr. Weasley. I doubt that even Albus could have." she concluded, lowering her hand, seeming to Ron to be strangely happy about this fact. When Ron frowned, confused, she continued, "You heard me say, did you not, that the witch or wizard attempting to lower or destroy the shield would have to be more powerful than Harry." Ron just blinked, before understanding hit him and he gaped.
"Are you serious?!" he blurted out. McGonagall smiled,
"Yes Mr. Weasley, I assure you I am perfectly serious." She said, smiling. Looking back at Harry she spoke again, more quietly,
"…I doubt that Harry himself knows the extent of his abilities."
There was a soft orange glow coming in through the blinds of the hospital wing as the sun rose. It crept through the hospital wing, caressing the hair of a girl lying motionless on a white linen bed, and a boy with messy black hair asleep in the chair next to her, his hand in hers.
'Harry…' came a confused, murmured voice.
Harry's head shot up, awake immediately, and asked anxiously, 'Hermione?'
She sat slowly, blinking to get used to the light which seemed so bright after days of dreamless sleep. 'What…what happened?' Harry just grinned. 'You're okay!' he exclaimed, 'I was so scared I'd lost you without telling you tha- well…you're okay!' Hermione almost laughed, Harry looked so happy. A contented silence drifted over the hospital wing as the pair looked at each other. Seconds later both realised they were staring and simultaneously looked away, blushing. Madam Pomfrey chose this moment to come round the corner in her usual bustling manner, perfectly oblivious to Harry and Hermione's discomfort.
'Ah, Miss Granger!' exclaimed Madam Pomfrey, from across the ward, 'How are you feeling?'
Harry finally realised he had put up a magical ward, and sheepishly let it down so Madam Pomfrey could fuss over Hermione. Around lunchtime she at last decided it was safe for Hermione to leave the hospital wing. With Madam Pomfrey contented, Harry and Hermione had wandered down to the lake, enjoying each other's company. Luckily, it wouldn't take long for either to catch up on the missed lessons. Dumbledore himself had said to them in confidence that they were ''the brightest and most magically powerful students ever to pass through Hogwarts' doors''. He had then gone on to say, with his trademark twinkling eyes, ''…And all the teachers were students in their time''.
As they sat by the lake Hermione was effusing excitedly about Harry's use of wandless magic.
''Do you realise what this means?'' she said happily, '' Wandless?! Without thinking?! You're more powerful than Voldemort could ever be!''. Harry smiled at her,
''Sure 'Mione. If you say so.'' He just wished he could be as sure of this fact as she was.
When he and Dumbledore had explained to Hermione what had happened, instead of reacting like Harry had, believing it to be his fault that Voldemort had targeted Hermione, she had full on bear-hugged Harry, thanking him for saving her. He smiled to himself at the memory of holding her wrapped protectively in his arms – even if it was just for a few moments. He drew himself out of his wandering thoughts to listen to what Hermione was saying. She had a thoughtful look on her face and was staring out across the lake.
'I wish I could do wandless magic…' she murmured. Harry thought for a second.
'I could try and teach you…if you like…', he offered.
'You would?! Oh Harry, thank you!' she exclaimed, positively beaming. Harry laughed and pulled her into a hug.
'No problem 'Mione, I'll do my best. I can't promise I'll be any good at it though.'
'Nonsense.' Said Hermione, 'Remember the DA? And this summer?'
'Well, I…Well…' Harry couldn't deny that without him half his year would have failed their DADA Owls, and he had succeeded where so many professors had failed…he had managed to teach Neville Longbottom to cast a successful disarming charm. Under Harry's patient instruction, Neville had progressed at an almost alarming rate, and the professors were at a loss to understand as to how Neville, and half the school, had suddenly improved so dramatically. Over the summer, as well, Neville, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and Luna had improved drastically.
Harry suddenly remembered a confusing conversation he had had with Professor McGonagall about wandless magic. She had told him that he should do his lessons with wandless magic from now on, to get used to using it. Even though it usually took years to master, as Harry had already done it once subconsciously, (and taking into account how powerful Harry was – a fact Harry was having trouble believing), McGonagall believed that he would have no trouble. Harry had been dismissed with words that had left him extremely puzzled until now. He chuckled to himself as he realised that the Headmistress had intended for him to teach Hermione all along.
'Okay then.' He said, standing up, 'Let's see what you can do.'
Exhausted but exhilarated, the pair trudged back towards the castle. The last lessons of the day finished in ten minutes, when students would come pouring out of classrooms, heading for dinner. Harry had mastered wandless magic almost immediately, and with his instruction Hermione had quickly followed. As they sat down they reached hungrily for the food on the table. The doors all around the Great Hall opened and the students flooded in. Ron saw Harry and Hermione and rushed over.
'Hermione! You're okay!'
'Hey Ron,' grinned Hermione. Once the flow of people asking Hermione how she was had stopped, the Golden Trio sat and chatted happily together for the first time since the morning of the letter.
A few months later, during the first day of the summer holidays…
Harry and Hermione sat in the library researching horcruxes. Nearly all of the students had gone home and Ron was in the hospital wing. (He had been staring at Luna – who was sitting in the stands – during practice, and had been knocked off his broom by a stray bludger). Harry was sitting and watching Hermione, the way the light hit her long, wavy hair, the way she furrowed her brow and bit her lip in confusion. She scribbled something with her quill and re-read the adjusted work, intelligent eyes darting across the page, before a small smile twitched at the corner of her mouth and she turned back to the huge dusty volume. She gave an exasperated sigh and dropped her quill, closing the book with a dull thud which knocked Harry out of his daydreams. He looked glanced back down at his own leather-bound book, focusing on the flowing script.
'' To defeat a horcrux the witch/wizard need only to take the object in which the soul fragment is encased and destroy it, using any simple charm. The difficulty and danger is not in the actual destruction of the horcrux itself, but in evading and overcoming the enchantments and barriers which would no doubt surround and protect the horcrux. Most often, the witch or wizard may choose to…''
Hermione sighed and threw down her quill in frustration. She couldn't concentrate with him sitting so close to her. His hair flopped into his startling green eyes and he brushed it away lazily with a flick of his hand. It was hot outside and his top few buttons were undone. Damnit. It should be against the rules to be that gorgeous. She shook her head, clearing it of the thoughts that the glimpse of Harry's tanned, toned chest had put into it. Harry noticed her exasperation and smiled, mistaking it for irritation with the tome in front of her.
'It's too hot to work, let's take a break.'
Pfft. Thought Hermione, He thinks that's why I can't concentrate. Stupid bloody gorgeous… she began muttering in her head in annoyance. She looked up again and realised Harry was staring at her, waiting for an answer. Her cheeks coloured,
'Erm…No, I'm okay Harry, honestly.'
'No you're not, your cheeks are all flushed and everything. Come on, we're going to the kitchens to visit Dobby.' He grinned and grabbed Hermione's hand, rushing towards the exit of the library. Hermione's breath hitched in her throat and her skin tingled where it met his. She stumbled and he laughed, wrapping an arm round her waist to keep her from falling. The part of Hermione still capable of coherent thought, whilst in such close proximity to Harry, cringed. Smooth, Hermione. Whilst the other, much larger part just grinned smugly back from being so close to him. Coherent Hermione conceded defeat and happily let herself be dragged along the corridor.
A few months later…
Harry, Ron and Hermione have just returned to Hogwarts for the start of the final term. With Ron and Hermione's aid, Harry has successfully destroyed all of the Horcruxes. Battered, bruised and exhausted – but so far, victorious.
A flustered brunette burst into the Gryffindor Common Room, brandishing a note-covered parchment in one hand, dripping quill still in the other.
"H-Harry!!" she gasped, collapsing on the couch next to him, dropping the parchment in his lap. He picked it up, torn between curiosity and amusement, and scanned the meticulous script, which became increasingly less so as it neared the end of the paragraph. He blinked, and read it again, eyes widening. He turned to look at Hermione with startled viridian eyes,
" 'Mione…This…"
"I know."
A/N:
Unfortunately, I have recently lost any spare time I had whatsoever, so I won't have time to continue this. Anyone who wants to use any of the ideas – or even take it over – is welcome to, just write me a short message to let me know :)