"Harry, come on! We HAVE to go! The feast is about to start," demanded an angry and hungry Ronald Weasley.
"Not hungry." Harry Potter, his best friend replied in a dead sort of voice.
"Well, come and sit anyway," Ron told him.
"No," Harry said in that same voice that suggested he had been subjected to the Dementor's Kiss.
"Mate, it wasn't your fault. You did all you could do, you got her out of there.
It was an accident!" Ron half-yelled in frustration at his friend.
They were in the hospital wing. Harry was slumped in a chintz armchair on the bedside of an unconscious Hermione while Ron had his hand on Harry's shoulder while he was trying to convince him to go down to the feast. He hadn't left the hospital wing except to sleep in the Boy's Dormitories, and that was only because Madam Pomfrey refused to let him stay all night. She would always be startled to see Harry at Hermione's side every morning at six o' clock, and mutter something about needing privacy, but otherwise she left him alone.
Harry's POV:
It's all my fault. After all, I had been there when she had been cursed with an unknown spell, I should have used a shield charm, or something, but not stand there like an idiot, not reacting. I had flew to the floor just in time to catch her, and set her down gently on the black tile, too scared to look down to see if she was alive.
I got lucky. She was alive, but she was badly hurt, and no matter what I did, she wouldn't wake up. I didn't care about the Death Eaters at that point, I just needed to get her out of harm's way. I tried to pick her up, but her limp body was too heavy for me too lift. With Neville's help, she was alright in the end.
Once I had left Dumbledore's office, I checked on her in the hospital wing. She had still not woken up and I felt terrible when I saw her, seemingly dead in her feather bed. After that I had retired to the chair next to her head, refusing to leave except for five hours at a time, for sleep. I had taken to holding her still hand, mumbling whispered apologies, occasionally feeling her pale forehead to see if she had a fever or kissing her cheek.
Regular POV:
After a long while of convincing, Ron had left for the Great Hall, leaving Harry alone by Hermione's side. The lack of sleep was finally starting to kick in, and Harry had fallen asleep leaning back on the chair, his hand loosely holding hers. He was so deep in his slumber that he didn't notice the hand underneath his own had twitched, nor did he notice that someone had seen his tangle of jet-black hair and softly said his name.
Hermione's POV:
It took a few good calls to get my best friend to wake up. When he did, he looked over at me.
Regular POV:
"Hermione!" Harry half-screamed, as he sprang of his seat and took a step forward so he could be directly in front of her. Looking down and blushing slightly at the sight of their interlocking fingers, he cleared his face of the red as quickly as he could as grinned down at me.
"What happened to me?" Hermione asked in an extremely weak voice that made Harry worry.
"You know that Death Eater? The one that had the mutant baby head?" Harry asked, keeping his voice low so Madam Pomfrey wouldn't hear until he got to explain to her what had happened.
"The one you cast the silencing charm on?" Hermione questioned, still speaking very quietly and paling more by the second.
"Yeah, but I can tell you later, really, don't strain yourself!" Harry said, the care shining in his eyes.
"No, I want to know!" she protested, turning a light grey in the attempt to push herself into a sitting position.
"All right," Harry said, watching as his best friend leaned back into the pillows, her breathing shallow. "The thing is, he sent a curse at you. I don't know what it did, but, you fell, and after I cursed him I went to see if you were OK, but I was just too scared to look down, because what if you'd died? And then Neville told me he'd felt a pulse, and we pulled you up, then, well, we fought. Neville and I were alone. They-the Death Eater's-got him, and I gave them the prophecy and then the Order showed up, Tonks, Lupin, Mad Eye, and-er...Padfoot," It was too painful to say Sirius's name out loud.
"And then?" asked Hermione eagerly, encouraging him to go on, not noticing the break in his voice when he said Padfoot.
"Dumbledore came. And he fought Riddle. And Bellatrix...she, er, she..." he broke off.
"Harry? Are you-" Hermione began gently.
"She killed him. She killed Sirius." Harry shouted, tears now flowing freely down his cheeks. Madam Pomfrey came bustling over, undoubtedly to see what all the noise was about.
"What is going on? Miss Granger! You're awake! Mr. Potter! What-?" Then she looked around and saw Hermione's face glazed with tears. "Now, really! There's-you're upsetting-" Hermione shook he head vigorously, but the school nurse paid her no mind. And she grabbed Harry by the wrist and pulled him to the door.
Hermione made her way to Gryffindor Tower for the first time since she left for her History of Magic O.W.L., the day they had gone to the Department of
Mysteries to save Sirius, only to find Sirius wasn't there after all. Sirius is dead, she told herself, and Bellatrix Lestrange killed him. Madam Pomfrey had discharged her later the day that Harry had come. Oh, Harry. The closest thing he had to a father, gone. Sirius had been everything to him, and he used to get so much happiness and comfort when he would get a letter from his godfather. And now that was brutally taken from him. I felt so terrible. I don't know how he'll react when I meet him. What if he hates me? she worried, nasty thoughts swirling in her head. Whatever may have crossed her brilliant mind, what happened was not even close to what she had expected.
"I'm sorry," Harry whispered, after he had seen her and walked over. But before Hermione could reply, he had leaned in and kissed her lightly on the lips. It was short; barely a half a second and she had no idea what it meant. And then he was gone, leaving her utterly bewildered, eyes wide, cheeks flushed and completely brain-dead, the mouth he had kissed hanging open.
She started walking without realizing she was moving and after about ten minutes, she walked straight into Ron.
"Hermione! You're OK!" He exclaimed, patting her shoulder and grinning widely.
"Yeah, I guess," she said in a dazed voice that didn't pass unnoticed.
"What's up?" Ron wondered aloud.
"Well, someone did something, something I never, in my dizziest daydreams, would imagine they would do, and I don't know what they meant by it because they just did it and ran off before I could say anything." Hermione told him, trying to sound off hand.
"Who kissed you?" Ron asked with a smirk worthy of Malfoy.
"What?" Hermione shrieked, her face, which was now mahogany was as good as a confession. "No one, no one, what are you talking about, Ron?"
"Hermione, we both know it's Harry, so let's not play these childish games, mmmmkay?" Ron said, now fighting back a laugh.
"OK, first of all 'mmmmkay' is NOT a word, second: childish games? You're the one who plays barbaric wizard's chess!" Hermione said angrily.
"Ha! You didn't deny it!" Ron laughed, easily finding her loophole, and taunting her for it. 'This is going to be fun' he thought.
"No, I did not, now if you know what it means in the twisted way guy's minds work, then good, tell me. If you don't, leave, and I'll hex you if you tell anyone!" she threatened, now surpassing angry and completely blowing off her hinges.
"I can't tell you," Ron said, still smirking.
"RONALD WEASLEY! You tell me this instant!" Hermione squealed, pulling out her wand.
"FINE!" Ron yelled, his eyes widening at the stick of wood. "All right. He feels guilty about you getting hurt and he's just so cut up about Sirius dying and he was scared he'd lost you too."
"Where is he?" she asked eagerly.
"In the dorms," Ron answered after a second or two of hesitation.
"Why? What's he doing?" Hermione inquired sharply, now becoming worried.
"Dunno. When I came in, he was getting into bed, and when I tried to get him to come down, he said he'd made someone he loves hate him-I thought he'd had a fight with Cho or something-and that I should go away before he ruined my life. Then, when I left, I shook him, and he didn't respond, so he might be asleep." Ron said thickly in between bites of a muffin he had undoubtedly taken from the Great Hall.
"Again, do you ever stop eating?" Hermione asked skeptically.
"I'm hungry!" Ron shouted, annoyed, and then, returning to his beloved muffin, he strolled away.
Meanwhile, Hermione was sprinting up to Gryffindor Tower. She burst into the
Common Room, panting, causing people to stare and she sped up the staircase to the Boy's Dormitories. Finding Harry, Ron, Seamus, Dean, and Neville's room, she banged on the door.
Hermione's POV:
"Harry, open up," I called, not softly, but not harshly. No response. "I know you're in there, we need to talk." I said to the door, a little louder. "All right, I know you may have fooled Ron into thinking you're asleep, but I know better, so open this door right now or I'll break it down!" Still no answer. I made to charm the door open, but found it wasn't locked. Wow, these guys are pigs I thought to myself. I walked slowly over to the bed that had a
Harry-sized lump in it and gingerly placed a hand over what I guessed was a hand a squeezed it.
"You OK?" I asked, losing my insistency and starting to feel bad for him. Nothing. "Harry, are you really asleep?" He didn't move. I crouched down on all-fours, now worried. What if he had suffocated himself? The idea scaring me into action, I pulled the covers over a few feet. There he was. That was the worst moment in my life, to see him there, crying silently, curled up, mouth clamped tight shut, undoubtedly to prevent himself from sobbing, an old letter from Sirius clutched in one of his shaking hands. I sighed and took his hand in mine.
Neither of us moved, and after a few minutes, he stopped shaking and he was able to stem his flow of tears. I don't know why I didn't say anything to him, I just felt like I shouldn't, so I didn't. Words were not for this situation, just staying with him, holding his hand, letting him mourn properly, was enough. To this day I do not know how long we sat there like that, it was somewhere between five minutes and five hours. Finally he seemed to gain control of himself, and he looked at the letter, and a single tear rolled down his cheek. I think he was trying to read it, but his eyes weren't moving, and in either case, he put it down far too fast to have read more than a sentence or two. Then I realized he had been staring at his godfather's signature. Then he did something unexpected: He ripped the letter to pieces.
"Why'd he have to go? If he really cared about me he would've stayed put!" He bellowed, dropping my hand and forcing himself into a sitting position. "I loved him." Harry ended in a whisper. I knew in my mind that I needed to remain silent, so I listened to it. Then he burst into tears. "That was the last thing I had of him and I just ruined it! Maybe I should just stop caring. Die."
"You know you can't do that," I said calmly.
"Why?" Harry asked sharply.
"Well, for one thing, Voldemort-"
"I DON'T CARE!" Harry interrupted. "I DON'T CARE! HE'S DONE TOUCHING MY FAMILY! AND NOT JUST BECAUSE I HAVEN'T GOT ANY LEFT!"
"Then can you answer one question for me before you pitch yourself off the Astronomy Tower?" I inquired, still in the tone that suggested I was commenting on the weather. He just stared at me, like he'd never seen anything like me.
Then he nodded. "If you didn't care, then why would you be upset? If you didn't care, would you be acting this way? I've never seen anyone who doesn't care act the way you do, Harry."
"I told you already, I DON'T CARE!" He shouted, his hands clenched into fists and shaking with anger.
"Harry James Potter, you are the most caring person I've ever met. That is the biggest load of pixie piddle I have ever heard. You care so much you deny that you care. You don't need to hide it, not from me anyway." I ended on a cold note that seemed to bring him back down to earth.
"You're right, Hermione. I'm sorry I yelled at you, and I'm sorry I couldn't have stopped that Death Eater for hurting you, and I'm sorry for how I've acted all year. I'm done being that prat. I swear I'll never be horrible to you again. You don't deserve that. No one does." He apologized, his voice full of sincerity, making her heart melt. He collapsed backward onto his bed and became interested with his fingernails, and she thought he was averting her eyes because he was scared she wouldn't accept his apology, but she saw a tear slide down what was visible of his cheek and drop soundlessly onto his scar that that evil hag had given him: I must not tell lies.
"Oh, Harry, it's all right, I forgive you, and about-about Sirius...I'm sorry, but it's not your fault, if it's anyone's it's Bellatrix's." She said gently, lightly placing her hand on his shoulder and pulling out her wand with her other. He didn't notice. She waved it over the shredded letter and it repaired itself. He looked up at her, tears still swimming in his startlingly green eyes, and opened his mouth to thank her but no words came out.
"Th-Thank you," He finally managed to stammer.
Hermione's POV:
I sat down on the edge of his bed next to him, and he either didn't notice or mind when I took his hand or when I kissed him softly on the cheek, he just stared into his lap and let himself cry. To this day, I think that was the weakest I have ever seen him. I don't know how long it was until he looked back up at me. I don't know how it happened but before I could process what had happened, he had pulled me into a hug. I didn't want to let go and he seemed to be thinking along the same lines. When we broke apart, he bent down and picked up the letter: the last one his godfather had ever written him. We stayed sitting on his four-poster, reading the letter, over and over again, our foreheads occasionally lightly bumping into the others, hands interlaced.
The window was the only sign that time had passed; and it only seemed like a second before we both looked out the window and saw the breathtaking heavens, expanding to no end, looking down at us. It was past midnight and I had gone up there at six. He didn't seem hungry and I wasn't either, and he knew I had to go. He stood and I followed suit.
"Thank you," He said in barely over a whisper, dropping my hand, and for some reason I felt something leave me on the inside.
"You're welcome," I breathed. Our faces were centimeters apart. I'm not the type of person to sugar-coat things, and now isn't going to change that. It was the most mind-blowing, perfect kiss of my life. It lasted a maximum of five seconds, but I couldn't have asked for better. The moment our mouths touched, my eyes fluttered closed and I immediately began to kiss him back. Neither of us opened our eyes until a few seconds after the kiss, each silently begging the other to continue, but he didn't heed me and I didn't hear him. We both blushed, and I think Harry turned an even darker shade of crimson than I did, and we turned away from each other.
"Goodnight Hermione," He said to his dresser.
"'Night Harry," I told him, and I'm glad he wasn't looking at me, I must've looked like Luna Lovegood did when she entered a room, but quite more satisfied.
I don't know what possessed me, but just as I reached the door, I turned back, and I did something that shocked the both of us.
"I was right, you really aren't a bad kisser," I called, smiling widely and I caught a glimpse of him whipping around just before I closed the door.
Well? Didja like it? PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE review! I want to know what you think! It's not AU, but it could be, whatever you like! :D