Hermione's hands shook as, yet again, she mentally steeled herself. All week Harry had dressed in that ridiculous get-up with the sole purpose of pushing her to this. Right now, at this very moment, she knew he was in the process of moving her to Grimmuald Place. He'd spent countless hours assuring her Sirius wouldn't mind the intrusion, and that she'd be fully moved when the time came. All she could do was trust Harry in a way she never dared trust another before and pray he was right.

She'd asked Ron to a street fair a few town over. They didn't know anyone from the area, and she was sure she'd be able to find a private place to talk. For five minutes now they'd been sitting on the grass in front of a small chapel, trapped in awkward silence. They were close to the street, but far enough up the slightly sloping lawn to have privacy. Already feeling tears pinprick behind her eyes, she took a shaky breath and began.

It was more difficult than she could ever imagine. More than once Ron interrupted her, his outbursts growing increasingly angry. Each time, Hermione begged him to calm down and listen. And because he loved her, he did.

She didn't try and make excuses or shift the blame. In a way Ron was grateful for that; grateful she was being honest with him. At the same time he despised her for it. It would have been easier to hear she'd found someone else, or even that he was awful in bed. Instead, as he sat there, all he heard was how she couldn't love him. How she never really loved him. His ears were deaf to her despair; memories of how hard she had tried trickled away like sand in a sieve, leaving him with only skewed memories of a love built on lies. She tried to hide from him how long she'd felt this way, and Harry's role leading up to this. But he figured the right questions to ask, and managed to put it all together.

Hearing his reaction was the hardest part. He started wanting to fix it. He wanted this to just be a rocky patch they could ride through. But that changed as she continued to explain it all. When she finally finished, all that was left was anger. Anger and accusations. It all hurt so much, but she took it and accepted it. Harry may have convinced her that this was the right thing to do, but he could never convince her that this wasn't her fault. By the time it was over, they were both glad Hermione was moving out. As far as he was concerned, neither her nor Harry were welcome within his line of vision.

Hermione was glad she hadn't chosen a muggle town to go to when Ron stood and apparated, most likely home to the Burrow. She bit her lip, hoping he wasn't so upset he ended up splicing himself. Unwittingly, she placed herself at just as much risk when she stood and apparated to an alley near Grimmuald Place. Next thing she knew, she was standing in the Black Family foyer, enveloped tightly in Harry's arms, without a single memory of how she got there.

She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and pulled him in closer, suddenly craving the comfort of his touch. She rested her head on the end of his shoulder, facing in towards his neck. Feeling numb, her mind blank, she watched as a seemingly disembodied hand appeared from behind her back to hand a handkerchief to Harry. She felt gut wrenching pain as Harry gently lifted her head and pulled back so he could wipe her face and neck.

"I must be crying," she thought, detached, when she saw the handkerchief was wet. Her thought immediately silenced though as she buried her face in Harry's shoulder and continued to sob silently.

"Breath sweetie," Sirius' voice sounded near her side as a large hand began gently rub big, slowly circles over her upper back She turned to face out away from Harry now. Through her watery vision she saw the shapes of Sirius, with Lupin standing next to him. They were disturbed to see the dull, clouded over look in her usually bright eyes. Finally registering what Sirius said she struggled to inhale, suddenly feeling like she was drowning as she grew more and more desperate for fresh air. Harry's arms tightened around her waist, pairing with the firmer, faster circling of Sirius' hand to relax her enough to breath properly. Belatedly, she realized that the disembodied hand belonged to Lupin, who took the soaked handkerchief from a sheepish Harry.

Both men were glad they'd ignored Harry's protests, and helped move her things into a suite just down the hall from Sirius. They worked quickly and finally got Harry to explain what was going on, though they knew he was skimming over a lot of details for the sake of Hermione's privacy. Fortunately, both men managed to fill in the numerous blanks themselves. Well… most of them, they still couldn't see how Fairy-Harry fit in. They'd just finished and gone downstairs when Hermione appeared in the doorway, looking like hell run over and saving Harry from further questioning.

"He didn't hurt you did he?" Lupin asked, suddenly remembering Ron's hot temper when he noticed how violently Hermione was shaking. All three men became alert, sharing similar thoughts about men who hurt women.

"What?" Hermione's voice was thick and nasally as she spoke around her running nose. She pulled back only just enough to be able to look at all three men. Her sniffles continued as she tried to wipe away her tears with a shaky hand. "No, of course not. He just ran off; home I guess."

Harry nodded, seeing that she was telling the truth. This time he was the one to gently pull her back in. His arms tightened as he felt her shaking form huddle close to him. Without even thinking about it, he nuzzled her jaw, making his already tear-slickened glasses slid off and plummeted to the floor. Oblivious to Lupin's quick retrieval of the frames, He closed his eyes and nuzzled the crook and Hermione's neck as he took in the sweet scent of her body wash.

Most people would have been surprised, or even suspicious, at the exchange. But Sirius and Lupin were all too familiar with the dynamics of friendship tested and deepened by hardship and danger. They barely batted an eye, expecting nothing less from two people that undoubtedly knew and understood one another better than anyone else could ever dream of knowing them. They did, however, find it interesting how such a simple action served to suddenly calm Hermione so quickly.

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