They walked in silence. Birds fluttered silently through the tree tops. Various animals and beast prowled nearby, practically invisible with the lack of noise generated by their footsteps. The sun had bypassed its midday zenith, and was slowly crashing into the horizon, illuminating the beauty of the grounds beneath. The rowdy crowds of teenagers had long since retreated into the warmth of the castle, their common room fires, and butterbeers. Yes, it was quiet at Hogwarts.
Although war was in the air, for now the tension had abated. Voldemort, Deatheaters, Dementors, Werewolves and the like were of no concern to the dark-haired wizard and his bushy haired companion. They walked along in silence, their dark cloaks blending into the darkening area around them. Like silent apparitions, they glided along the edge of the Black Lake, content in their own thoughts.
Fresh off of a Quidditch victory over Ravenclaw, they had simply disappeared. Or rather, Harry had disappeared and a curious Hermione had followed him. How the star player, and youngest Seeker in a century, managed to sneak off without alerting an aware and fun-filled common room of Gryffindors was yet to be discerned. However, he had done so quite easily, and his bestfriend had followed.
Being the bestfriend of the Boy-Who-Lived, while rewarding with his caring and brave nature, could be stressful. His random mood swings, while fewer and further in between than in the past, were still a threat. If anything, though, the depth of his moods had only gotten worse. His magic, steadily growing, made his anger fierce and destructive.
Further complicating things, was the connection that he shared with the current Dark Lord. Though, in all honesty, Harry had gotten exponentially better with his Occlumency skills over the summer, the scar linked the two wizards in deeper ways than anyone truly realized. If they knew the truth of it, as no one did, they would realize that it was a near constant battle to keep Voldemort's wayward and powerful emotions out of his thoughts. Hermione, faithful as always, had vowed to never let that get in between looking after her bestfriend. After all, he was a boy and they tended to forget a lot of the smaller things that were vital to the success of the larger matters. School, of course, would be one example. But, if Hermione thought deeply enough, she'd begin to realize that Harry was tied for or the top in all of the subjects that he was taking. A phenomenon not overlooked by the professors.
After their rough 5th year at Hogwarts, Hermione had indeed realized just how overbearing she could be and how harsh of a harper she was. She had always been used to getting her way, even if it meant ruffling a few feathers along the way. All of that was irrelevant at this point. Her sole focus was on Harry James Potter.
As her bestfriend, he was truly the only one that put up with her on a consistent basis. Of course, Ron was always there, but there was the constant arguing and bickering that flecked their friendship. She couldn't trust his emotions or responses. With his teaspoon range of emotions, he was a fireball waiting to erupt. Of course, she was being the rational one. In any event, she was glad that Harry was there to often diffuse the situation. How he put up with them, she'd never know. She knew that she could never walk in this type of silence with Ron and still feel as if they had filled the air with conversation.
She had often reflected on their friendship, or Golden Trio, as the school liked to call them. You had Ron, the joker of the bunch, a good wizard, and more often than not fiercely loyal. He had his jealousy issues of course, and that also put a damper on their friendship, particularly with him and Harry, but they always got back together. They were brothers through and through.
Ron had everything that Harry truly wanted, and Harry had everything that Ron truly wanted. Ron had a large and loving family, but the competition he felt from his brothers was often an issue that made him insecure. A conundrum if there ever were one.
She herself was the "Mother Hen" of the group, as her mother had named her after their 3rd year. She was constantly concerned over Ron's schoolwork, and the danger that seemed to follow Harry everywhere he went. Indeed, her parents didn't truly know half of the dangers that she had been in. She was the one that truly cherished and focused on her school work. From a young age, books had been her only friend. Of course, she had loving and supportive parents, but as Dentists, they were often extremely busy. Further, she was often ridiculed at school for her large teeth and untamed hair. Often, her mother had found her tear-stained cheeks buried in a book, lost in a world of her own creation.
Coming to Hogwarts, she thought that all of that would change. How wrong she was. Harry had been the only one to accept her for who she was at all times. Ron, she believed at one point, had only accepted her because Harry had led him into the girl's bathroom so many years ago. She believed that they all truly needed one another. They were a team, a unit. She was happy, despite their issues at times, that she had her two friends. Harry, the third piece to their triangle was a different matter than Ron.
His past made him easily guarded and emotional at times. His muggle upbringing made him ignorant of the wizarding world around him. Further, despite his fame and wealth, Hermione knew that he would trade it all for his parents and Sirius in a heartbeat. She knew too that he would quickly split it with the Weasley family if they weren't so stubborn. Besides being generous, he was fiercely protective of his friends. Hermione suspected, but wasn't really certain, that Harry had been abused in many ways in his upbringing. She had resolved to keep a close eye on him.
Watching Harry was always a task that Hermione was up to. Years back, she had been able to read him quite easily. There was always the manner in which his eyes would glint dangerously if he felt threatened, or how the very air seemed to shift around him as his magic responded uncontrollably. She had always been able to tell when he was lying to her, especially in the way that his eyes actively avoided her. Now, however, he was so guarded. Yes, he hung out with friends but he always seemed to be an individual, as opposed to a member of group. The truth of the matter was that Harry Potter puzzled her, and she had yet to not succeed in solving a puzzle.
Since their return to Grimmauld Place midsummer, Harry had been quiet, reserved, and pensive. He didn't seem angry any more. Yet, there was always a sense of tensed silence surrounding him, as if he'd explode at any moment. Typically, she would've demanded that he open up to her, but hours of reflection had taught her that Harry would open up when he chose to. Pushing him only made him recede, or worse, blow up at her.
She shuddered when she thought back to how he had blown up this past summer, their first night back at Grimmauld Place. Not at any one in particular, but at everyone! As they walked, she lost herself in reflecting on that night, that didn't seem so long ago; Harry Potter vs. the Order of the Phoenix.
HPHPHPHPHPHPHP
Molly had just begun to usher the teens out of kitchen after another delicious dinner. No one had noticed that Harry had hardly even picked at his food. No one had noticed his steely demeanor, or how he was practically invisible despite a full dinner table. Apparently, he had been preparing himself for a huge explosion.
"Come on children, you should really be used to this by now. Out, out… it's time for an Order meeting." Molly practically screamed at them. Of course, they had all risen obediently and made their way to the harsh boredom of their bedroom.
Conversation was light, with topics about Quidditch, O.W.L.'s, and their summer activities up to that point.
It took only 5 minutes for Harry to explode. He had sat there, jaw clenched, eyes seemingly flashing with suppressed rage and barely controlled magic. Hermione would learn later that he had been frustrated at being excluding from the meetings despite often being at the forefront of the war. He believed that he and his friends deserved more respect from the same adults that were mostly afraid of speaking Voldemort's name.
"To hell with this!" Harry exclaimed, roughly leaping from his bed. He drew his wand and walked towards the bedroom door, which frantically flew open at his approach. His bewildered friends exchanged looks and hurriedly followed his angry visage.
They finally caught up with him at the heavily warded door of the kitchen. It was almost as if Harry were assessing the very obstacle that the door presented. Outside of the physical presence of hardened and aged oak door, there were numerous wards upon the frame as well, which were probably cast by Dumbledore himself. Harry, a deadly look on his face, stood there for nearly 30 seconds before raising his wand.
"Reducto Maxima." He stated in a calm whisper that belied the fury in his chest. There was a swirl of power as his magic had begun to pick up his intentions before they were even stated. Peculiarly, instead of taking just the door down, the powerful spell destroyed the frame and a large area around the door as well. It wouldn't be until days later that the Order of the Phoenix would give up trying to repair it.
The power of the spell had instantly splintered the door into a million pieces, which luckily did nothing more than hang in the air, floating on the ambient magic that Harry was producing. Conversation ground to a halt immediately. Though most of the adults sat there in stunned silence, Moody and Tonks had their wands drawn, Remus was standing, Snape had an arrogant smirk on his face, and Dumbledore's mouth was slightly hanging open.
"Just what do you think you're doing Potter?" Kingsley Shacklebolt spoke, apparently the first to get his wits about him. His hand hovered near his wand but he had yet to draw it.
"Harry, you children need to get out of here and let the adults speak." Molly fussed, standing up and preparing to physically push them out if necessary.
"Sit down. Moody, Tonks, put your wands away. This is your only warning." Harry spoke, quietly but the threat evident in his voice. Moody had an indignant look on his face, while Tonks only lowered her wand.
"Is this another of your tantrums Potter? Just like your father, spoiled to the co-" Snape started speaking. While no one was sure of exactly what happened next, they were very aware of Harry suddenly being on the other side of the room, violently pushing Snape against the wall behind him. Indeed, the impact left a small crater in the wall.
"Care to finish that sentence Snivellus?" Harry said, his wand Snape's chin drawing a line of blood. Silence reigned around the room once more, as everyone slow tried to assess the situation.
"I will have your head for this Potter! Headmaster, surely you won't allow this imbecile to do this." Snape asked, his smirked gone as a tinge of fear entered his eyes.
"If I were you, I'd shut my mouth Snape. Otherwise, I may have to shut it permanently." Harry stated before lowering his wand and taking a step back. He had only just turned his back before Snape plunged his hand into his robes for his wand.
CRACK!
Quick as a flash Harry had turned around, and not even bothering with his wand, had slapped the older man's wand from his grasp with his left hand. Completing the spin, he let his momentum lead his right arm, with all of the force that he could muster, to land a punch solidly on the cheek of the harsh Potions professor. The crack heard was Snape falling back into the same indent he had left previously. Harry kicked the man's wand near his friends and slowly walked away.
"As I was saying, put your wands away." Harry stated. Dumbledore, still silent had finally decided to speak.
"Now, now Harry, surely all of that was unnecessary." His tone was condescending, expecting Harry to flush with embarrassment.
"Shut up." Harry whispered. Again, the adults sat there stunned.
"You cannot talk to the Headmaster like that Mr. Potter." McGonagall reprimanded.
"You can shut up too. Actually, all of you shut up. The first one to speak before I am done speaking will meet the business end of my wand. No exceptions." Harry responded as he looked around the room. Hermione gasped in shock. If Harry were serious, he'd even turn his wand on Dumbledore!
"Now, I do not want to fight any of you. We're all supposed to be on the same team. All I want to know is how the fuck you can explain trying to shelter the very people that this war seems to follow? How in the hell can you try to hide from us, what seeks us out? It's stupid!" Harry spoke, not yelling but the chill in his words could freeze the Black Lake.
"Tell me, when was the last time any of you fought Voldemort and lived to tell the tale?" Expectedly, the room was silent, though one could not tell if that was because no one had an answer, or because they were still wary of his threat. "Tell me, Mrs. Weasley, when was the last time you spoke Voldemort's name? Exactly, the very people that are trying to fight him – trying and I might add – are afraid to even speak his name. How then, can you tell me, the one who has fought him more than anyone else and survived that I cannot be privy to the very information that could perhaps save my life?"
Again, Harry looked around the room. A few of the adults were throwing glances at one another, silently agreeing with Harry. Others, like Snape, Moody, and Shacklebolt looked as if they wanted to speak out.
"Professor Snape," Harry spoke, getting the man's attention by using his title. "I am no sorry for striking you. You had it coming. I am not James Potter. I'm more dangerous to you. At school you may be my Potions professor but outside of those halls you are a marked enemy. I will no longer be pushed around by you. The next time you attempt to insult me or my father, I will hurt you. This is your first and last warning." Harry, not once breaking eye contact with the man, looked as if he was silently daring the man to try to speak. He could easily make an example of him. After a few silent seconds of hard stares, Harry turned his eyes to another member of the Order.
"Mrs. Weasley, I love you. Merlin knows that. However, I am not one of your children. Hell, even your children are not children and have been involved in this war more than you have. You can't always protect them, and they will not always need your protection. We appreciate your concern, but I believe that I can speak for everyone when I say that your overbearingness creates rebellion. You had a great, brave, and proud family, and my life wouldn't be the same without them. However, my parents are dead, and the man that was closest to them is dead. Indeed, only Remus could truly get a modicum of respect from me simply because he is the last trustworthy link to my family." Mrs. Weasley, teary eyed, only nodded in response. After all, Harry did have a valid point.
"Professor Dumbledore, as great as you are and as much as I respect you, you have failed me in more ways than I care to admit. Yes, you claim that you care and that you were only acting with my best intentions at heart, but the road to hell is paved with good intentions. Surely you know that. You cannot suppress me. You know, just as I do, that I have too important of a role in the war. Sheltering me, and hiding me will not truly keep me safe. Teach me. Train me. Death Eaters are not going to be throwing stunners my way." Harry looked into the cool blue eyes of his Headmaster, who simply nodded in response.
"To the rest of you, remember that I have probably saved all of your collective asses numerous times since I was an infant. Calling me a child is disrespectful. I may not have your knowledge, or your age, but I certainly have the vast majority of you in the shade when it comes to sacrifices and experience. The next time you want to call me a child, or insult me and all that I stand for be prepared to defend yourself. That is not a threat." Harry finished.
Expectedly, he was prepared for responses. Most of the adults had the good decency to look ashamedly at their feet. Tonks, McGonagall, Ginny, and Hermione had joined Molly in her share of tears. Moody had dropped his wand in his lap and was surveying Harry with both of his eyes. Dumbledore, sat quietly, never once taking his gaze off of the young man in front of him. Even Snape had a contemplative look on his face.
Harry had never once raised his voice, and if anything, that was far more effective than yelling would ever be. The cold steel of his words was enough to silence a room of powerful and accomplished witches and wizards. Adding to that was the obvious presence of his magic in the room. From his entrance, he had been completely ready to respond with any of the spells in his arsenal.
"I don't need to know everything. Hell, I don't want to know everything. I want to be able to spend time with my friends, go to Diagon Alley and have some ice cream, play Quidditch. I want to be able to have fun. However, I seem to have a Dark Lord hell bent on revenge, and I understand that. I am not running away from that. However, a little respect is all I ask, and in the grand scheme of things, is that really too much to ask? It makes me wonder what I'm even fighting for, or if it's truly worth fighting for."
With those final words Harry has flicked his wand, sending Snape's back into his hand and clearing the rubble from the floor. The door, or lack thereof, would remain that destroyed. While everyone had been watching the progression of the wand, Harry had quietly slipped from the room, not to be seen again until the late afternoon of the next day. Truthfully, though, no one was brave enough to look for him, even if they could find him.
HPHPHPHPHPHPHP
Yes, that had been one of the few times that she had been truly afraid of what an angry Harry was capable of. While she didn't think he would ever hurt her, she knew his words could cut to the core and do far more damage than his magic could. Indeed, several of the one on one conversations that he had with Dumbledore, Snape, Moody, and Remus in the following days had left the older seemingly even more aged. She was broken out of her reminiscing by her name being called.
"Hermione…. Are you ok? I've been trying to get your attention for a few moments now." Harry spoke with a concerned look. He had resorted to twirling his wand through his fingers as they walked. Hermione noticed, mostly from the chill in the air, that the sun had mostly set now, and that the area around them was only like from the torches within the castle itself.
"Oh, sorry Harry, I was just thinking." She responded breathlessly. She watched his concerned look melt into a small smile almost instantly. Her heart pounded faster, and she didn't know why.
"Knut for your thoughts?" Harry asked as they resumed walking. Hermione was silent as she thought through his question. Technically, he was inviting her to begin the discussion, and for that discussion to be on practically anything she wanted. However, she was wary of him closing up. The conversation could easily go awry.
"I.. well I was thinking back to this summer with your talk with the Order." She responded finally. Harry have been patient in waiting for her response. Inwardly, she smiled at the thought that he knew her well enough to allow her to gather her thoughts before pressing for an answer.
"I thought it might be that. I'm only surprised that you haven't asked me sooner." He chuckled at the blush that enveloped her face. She looked away before responding.
"I was honestly a bit scared to ask you. I didn't want to upset you further." She felt a hand gently grab her face, and she willingly followed its pull to look into the face of Harry Potter. His eyes were a fierce green, that seemingly glowed despite the darkness around them.
"I'm sorry Hermione. You are the very last person that I would want to ever be afraid of me." Harry started, making sure he had her attention. "Those words needed to be said. They needed to hear that. I am not the idiot child that they believe I am."
"I know that Harry. I do. I've always believed in you." Hermione said, inwardly struggling to suppress the myriad of emotions flowing through her.
"That's why I don't deserve to have you in my life." Harry replied. Hermione, for once, did not have a response, but her shy smile spoke volumes.
"Do you remember when we went to the Department of Mysteries? Of course you do, that was a stupid question. I relived that night almost every second I closed my eyes this summer. From the running battle, to watching you fall, to watching Sirius fall, to chasing Bellatrix, cursing her. I relive that duel between Voldemort and Dumbledore, and how helpless I was when I was possessed by him. I see every detail of the meeting in Dumbledore's office. I remember it all, like it was yesterday." Harry spoke, quietly. He stood close to the edge of the water, kicking small pebbles into the black surface. Hermione stayed quiet, not really knowing what to say. Instead, she watched him quietly. He had never spoke about that night.
When she asked the others about their version, she had pieced together that Harry had remained relatively unharmed from the battle, but that the emotional and psychological wounds would take longer to heal than the one currently across her chest. She remembered Neville's account of hos Harry had stopped functioning when she had went down, and the blind fury he had witnessed as Harry chased after Bellatrix.
The only one she hadn't spoken to about the night, was Harry himself. She was not about to interrupt his musings now, if he wanted to talk, then she would let him.
"I miss them.. My parents and Sirius. I feel like I've never got the chance to get to know any of them before they were taken away from me. I haven't even truly had the chance to mourn them, before more things were throw at me. Granted, I was a baby when my parents were murdered, but Dumbledore had to trudge me right to his office and throw a cinderblock on my shoulders." Harry continued, absentmindedly levitating a rock through the air.
"What happened Harry?" Hermione asked nervously. Harry had seemed to be completely unhinged by whatever had happened in the Headmaster's office after the battle. His response was a few moments later. She could easily tell that he was struggling to put his words together. When he did speak, it was a murmur that she barely heard.
"I know what the prophecy says." The simple statement seemed so ominous. Hermione, one for knowledge at all levels, had an inward desire to run away from this particular knowledge, despite not knowing what it said. She waited further for him to speak. "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 will be born as the seventh month dies ..."
She gasped audibly as her mind raced along the implications of what this could possibly mean. Her bestfriend literally had no choice but to fight. It had, for all intents and purposes, been his destiny before he had even been born. She now knew why he was so distant and quiet, everything depended on him. Suddenly, his rant at headquarters made far more sense to her. He did have an important role in the war.
"Harry…" She started, but he continued talking.
"And I'm scared Hermione. Not of him, I've been over that. But I'm scared of what'll happen if I fail, of who would be in danger if I'm not strong enough. I could lose Ron, Dumbledore, the Weasleys, Remus, and I could lose you." The pain in his eyes was evident. He truly was afraid of losing everyone that he cared for.
It hurt her to see him like this, scared and uncertain. He was better than that. Her anger bristled under the surface with concern for her bestfriend. Repeating his actions from earlier, she softly reached out and grabbed his chin.
"Look at me Harry. We all have faith in you. You are more than a prophecy. You are more than simply your destiny. You are more than the Boy-Who-Lived. Dumbledore has more faith in you than anyone else, even I can see that. You may not have the number of years that Voldemort has but you have a far greater heart, and love that his hate can't penetrate. You have a pure heart, destroying him will not tarnish that. I can't speak for anyone else, but I promise to be there for you every step of the way. You're my bestfriend… and I love you." She spoke, stumbling over her last few words.
Did she truly love him? She loved him as a friend, she knew, but could there be more there? She had entertained the thought of a crush on the Boy-Who-Lived when she had first read about him. Meeting him and spending most of her time around him had shown her a deeper picture of the enigma that was Harry Potter. Where the papers called him spoiled, she realized that he was the furthest from it. Sure, he had loads of money, but that was a result of his parents and his Godfather being murdered. Indeed, he was famous all over the magical world, but she knew that he would give that up in a heartbeat if it meant he could see his parents again. She also knew that he would never use his fame in a negative.
"Hell, he didn't even know what he meant to the Wizarding World, and what he has meant for the past decade and a half." She thought to herself as she surveyed him. His eyes were looking at her, but seemed to be seeing through her.
As she thought further about the raven haired young man in front of her, she realized that he was far more than just the "The Chosen One". Being Harry Potter had to be stressful on his part, and he handled it all very well. This year, at the age of 16, with witches throwing themselves at him left and right, he had merely focused on his schoolwork, extra training sessions, the D.A. and helping others.
In fact, when she thought, Hermione realized that Harry had never once used his fame for his benefit. He preferred to work hard for anything that he had. Where the Daily Prophet reported his as a self-centered, snobby brat, Harry had consistently shown that he was more than willing to give of himself for those that lacked. To those that truly knew him, he was one of the most generous people they had ever met.
"Have I always been in love with my bestfriend?" Hermione thought quietly, only to push the thought deeper into her mind.
She did not want to bother Harry with her school girl crushes. Besides, she was certainly not his type. He dated the beauties like Cho, and attracted the attention of girls like Lavender and the Patil twins. Though, in hindsight, she had never known him to truly show them any attention. Surely, as is bestfriend, she would know if he were entertaining any of the girls at Hogwarts. She herself, was too brainy, and had never thought of herself as beautiful, or even pretty. Her hair was always a disaster, and she was certain that she was annoying more often than not. She was brought out of her musings by Harry spreading his arms wide.
"Come here." He said softly, his jade eyes sparkling with unshed tears. She hesitated only a moment before wrapping her arms around his shoulders. Harry had never initiated a hug before. Hermione wasn't certain, but she suspected that he wasn't used to much affection from his muggle family. She had felt him freeze up a few of the times that she had him in one of her tight hugs. This hug, however was different.
In the cold night, she immediately felt the warm of his body upon hers, suddenly thankful for his daily workouts. Her knees weakened slightly as she relaxed in his embrace, safe a secure in his arms. Further, there was a sense of euphoria as she breathed in his scent. Though he had played an intense game of Quidditch not too long ago, he smelled strong and clean. If she could put a word to it, she would say that Harry smelled….. powerful. His scent enveloped her almost as tight as his arms did.
She lost track of how long they stood there like that, but she immediately missed his arms as they retracted from around her. Harry had a small smile on his face.
"What?" She asked, curious as to what brought this sudden change in his demeanor. His smile only widened as he reached out and grabbed one of her hands. He held it in his callused hands and studied it intently.
"You're amazing Hermione." He spoke, before turning scarlet with a powerful blush. "I'd truly be lost without you in my life." It was her turn to smile and blush. For someone to admit that they would be lost with her of all people was almost more than she could bear.
"Harry…" She started. He shushed her with a soft finger over her lips.
"Thank you for being you Hermione." Harry said. He seemed to hesitate for a second before removing his finger from her lips. He pulled her closer to him, and she obediently followed.
Their eyes met, and time slowed. Their surroundings seemingly faded away, and suddenly there was only the two of them, and their stare. Honey speckled brown eyes stared deep into sharp green eyes. Their faces inched closer to one another, completely out of their control. Suddenly, there were only inches away from one another. Neither of them stopped their progression. Hermione would reflect later that she had been completely unaware of everything at that moment.
Their lips met, and a furnace exploded within her. It was a soft kiss, patient and full of years of suppressed emotion that neither had been consciously aware of.
"Wow." Was the only thought that Hermione could produce after they parted from what seemed to be an eternity. They were still close, and she could still feel the shadow of his lips upon her. She shivered, though not from the cold.
"I'm sorry." Harry said, breaking the silence. Looking down at his feet, he shyly played with a tuff of grass that seemed adamant on growing between the rocks on shore of the lake. He carefully kept his eyes averted, as if waiting for harsh words from her.
"For what?" Hermione asked with a small grin that went unnoticed by the person standing across from her.
"I don't know what came over me. It felt so…..right, if that's the word to use." Harry mumbled, with a blush. Again, Hermione found herself pulling his face up to meet his eyes.
She leaned it and kissed him softly.
"I meant it when I said I loved you Harry Potter." His eyes seemed to mist over at her words, and his smile widened.
"But… you'll be in danger, and I can't be good enough for you. You deserve to be happy, and with the life that I have to live, I'm not sure you want to be any more than my friend at this point. I'm sure that I don't know how to love, I've never known it. But… what I feel for you cannot be described with the few words that I know. You're brilliant, and tough, and brave, and smart, and…. Beautiful." He responded lamely. Hermione responded with a soft laugh. Harry had, unknowingly, voiced some of her same concerns. Her laugh, though, seemed to hurt him.
"Harry, it is I that could never, will never deserve you." Hermione responded.
"I highly doubt that." His look was indignant, but his tone soft. "He really does love me, despite everything that he's been through." Harry opened his mouth once more to speak, but Hermione had other plans. Summoning her Gryffindor courage she grabbed him and pulled him close, and with an intense look, whispered a single sentence.
"Shut up and kiss me." And so he did.