a/n: This fic contains a homosexual relationship and sex. It's rated M for a reason. I forgot to put this in the first chapter. But if anyone gets this far without realizing what your reading. You do now.

Chapter 2

'Hermione,

We need to talk. Can you meet with me after your classes today? I can floo right over to your office.

thanks, Harry'

Harry used Draco's owl to send the note to Hogwarts the next morning. He nervously hoped it sounded urgent enough to insure Hermione's agreement on such short notice. Since becoming a teacher, her famous tight scheduling and obsessive work habits had increased exponentially (much to the dismay of her more free spirited husband, Ron), hopefully, she would be able to fit Harry in.

Draco and Harry encountered each other once at the Ministry that day. Ron was filling his mate in on his bit of a report they were to be filing when they passed the blonde.

"So I tried to phrase it like we accidentally found the---" Ron was cut short.

"Malfoy," Harry nodded casually.

"Potter, Weasley," came the reply, Ron inclined his head curtly.

"I need a word Malfoy. Listen, Ron, I just want to run the troll thing by him to get a muggle relations perspective on the situation. See you in your office in a mo', yeah?"

"Harry, we've got to finish this report today, hurry up," Ron groused and slouched off.

As soon as his slightly disgruntled best friend was out of ear shot, Harry began in a low voice, not wanting to be overheard. " Hermione still hasn't responded. I've already had lunch and still nothing, maybe it won't happen today."

Draco smirked, "You sound a bit hopeful."

"I'm just nervous," Harry stopped and watched shifty eyed as several wizards passed, "I want this to go smoothly."

"Babe, it's fine, alright? I wish I could help you relax, take you back to my office and unzip--"

"Gah! Shut it!" unable to help himself Harry chuckled.

"Kisses, bye."

"Laters."

As soon as Harry got back to Ron and shut the door, the red head exploded, his ears burning to match his hair.

"Fuck Harry! Why are you talking to him? He's a, he's a--"

"Slimy git?"

"A slim git, yeah. We can deal with the trolls later, but this report can't wait!"

"Alright, alright. Calm down."

Harry knew Ron was making a big deal of it because he resented being shooed away so easily in favor of Draco. Something that had been happening with increasing regularity, Harry had to admit. He sighed, wondering how on earth Ron would take the news of his taboo relationship with the blonde, in Ron's eyes, the anti-christ. The two spent the rest of the afternoon in Ron's cluttered office, finishing up the oh-so-important report. There was still no owl from Hermione. Cursing Draco's incompetent owl, trying to place blame, and considering popping into Hermione's fireplace anyway, Harry had the biggest shock of his life (at least since the war). Ron quite calmly, said one of the most, shocking and insightful things he'd ever come up with.

"Harry, do you fancy Malfoy?" His eyes focused on the report at his desk, Ron spoke passively and seemed resigned to the idea.

Choking on air, Harry looked up, gaping. Unable to collect himself, he stammered, "I-- I don't... What?"

Ron rolled his eyes and sighed, "You don't talk to him much but every time he's around you get, well you go all wonky."

"I do not thank you very mu-"

"Yeah, you do mate. You tense up and don't listen to what I'm saying properly if we're talking and you're always sneaking a look at him."

"I bloody well am not!" Harry clearly did not realize how badly he'd been neglecting his friend and not-so-covertly glancing at his lover's arse.

"Hate to break it to you but when you ignore me and can't properly string a sentence together until Malfoy leaves the room... it leaves me plenty of opportunity to watch you watching him."

Harry considered the case against him, feeling guilty, ashamed, and exposed all at once, and concluded he was cornered. Oh well, he was supposed to be coming out with it anyway.

"Fine. I fancy him."

"And you're seeing him aren't you?"

"How would you know that?" Harry asked, thoroughly flummoxed.

"You've started asking him for muggle relations advice all the time. Like just today. And he actually listens to your stupid questions, which you could easily answer for yourself, living in a muggle community and being part muggle as you are. He must fancy you back at the very least."

Ron's intuition was causing Harry's head to spin but he knew the time had come, Hermione first or not. Running a hand over his face, eyes closed Harry quietly said, "Draco and I have been together for six months."

"Blimey! Six fucking months-- gaw... that's a lot longer than I thought."

"Are you upset with me?"

"Are you mental? Disgusted and furious more like." Ron did look flushed and his eyes were dangerously small, squinting hard at Harry."

"We've only known each other for what? Almost twenty years now Harry. You couldn't think to tell your best friend about such an important part of your life?"

"I'm so sorry, you're completely right. I, I, thought because it was Malfoy... it's complicated Ron."

"I know that Harry. Give me some credit. It's is weird, a lot of people won't understand. But Harry, you might of told me at least."

Harry's eyes were glossy but refused to let the tears of confusion and relief stream free. Ron wasn't going to disown him. His loyalty was such that he would have been there for him had he, Harry, not been such a prat. If he'd confided in him and trusted the friendship. Thoroughly abashed, Harry hung his head, face in his hands. Ron, somewhat awkwardly cleared his throat in a very manly way patted his friend's sagging shoulder.

"Just trust me. I don't care what you are, if you want to date Malfoy... well I, trust your judgement. If he can be civil to me I can try to return the favor."

"Thanks mate," Harry sheepishly mumbled through his hands.

After that episode Harry vowed never to doubt Ron again. Whatever else he was, Ron was a good enough friend to be trusted and respected. That left the question of Hermione. Harry went back to his office to gather his things before leaving when he noticed a particularly tightly wound roll of parchment. I was Hermione's reply.

'Alright Harry, see you this evening.

You're lucky I've no detentions or grading.

love, Hermione'

Not wanting to be late after all his pining and waiting for this very answer, Harry hurried away from his desk. Ron's startling response still rattled him, making him wonder how his other best friend would receive the news. Ten minutes later Harry appeared, with a whirl of green flame, in the office of Hermione Granger, Arithmancy professor at Hogwarts. Stepping off the hearth, Harry went to greet her.

"It's been forever since you've been up here Harry. How are you?" Hermione sounded bright, though tired. And she was obviously wondering at the air of urgency. Harry briefly hugged her to him and exchanged pleasantries before answering the question.

He breathed in deeply, surveying his old friend. Her bushy brown hair was back in a McGonagallesque bun, her face thin skinned and greyish from lack of sleep and sunshine. She took her work very seriously. Surely, her academic mind could leave behind old animosity and understand. Harry sat down. Though he had taken heart from Ron's encouragement, he was starting to lose his nerve. His palms were sweating, becoming clammy in the cold of the castle. Surreptitiously he tried to wipe them on his work robes. Somewhat breathlessly, Harry began.

"I'm in love Hermione."

"With who? Don't look so glum, this is good right?"

"Maybe."

"Harry, just tell me. Are you afraid I'll tell Ron or something?"

"He already knows actually. This afternoon, at work..."

Perching on the edge of her desk, Hermione watched him expectantly.

"Draco Malfoy. We're in love," feeling fragile Harry kept his eyes trained on the ground. Feeling a bit like a criminal for saying it at Hogwarts, as though he'd just admitted to helping Draco make an attempt on Dumbledore's life, Harry waited for Hermione's loving arms to envelope him. But he waited in vain, Hermione would not hug him, would not chide him for being so nervous and secretive. Harry's words resounded in the heads of both brunettes as a pregnant silence settled around the pair. Confused, Harry chanced a glance up. Hermione's mouth was slack, opened slightly, her features arranged in an extremely quizzical expression. It was as though she'd just been told the most outrageous lie by one of her students, an excuse for being out of bed after hours. A lie so unimaginably outlandish Hermione could not quite comprehend the stupidity of the student in question, or Harry, as it was.

"Malfoy?" Her voice sounded strange after such complete silence. "Have you forgotten what we went through? How he helped Voldemort?"

Harry was shocked, surely Hermione of all people... Perhaps because she didn't see Draco at the Ministry everyday like Ron did, she wasn't used to him not being a snobby psychopath. Eyes widening with despair, Harry stared hopelessly at the incredulous personage opposite him.

"Hermione..." he began.

"No Harry. Okay, maybe he's not really as menacing as all that after all. But to love him? He's not exactly evil, but twisted... Don't you see? Draco Malfoy is a self loving, impetuous piece of Slytherin trash." Hermione was on her feet, revolving across the floor and gesticulating, trying to explain the idiocy of the lying "student".

Standing abruptly, Harry shouted, "He's not, ask Ron. Anyway, we've been together for six months, I don't need your approval," more quietly, acidly, Harry hissed, "It'd serve you better to get to know him again rather than passing judgement. If I can, you certainly can."

Hermione blinked several times, the rest of her body frozen, "Six months?"

Harry ignored her, his eyes darting around the darkening room in agitation, "Ron understood," he grumbled. He became still more agitated by this half-truth. Ron did not understand but was willing to try.

"You've been with him? Physically?" Hermione's voice was very quiet, very even.

"So what?" Harry growled.

"How could you?"

"Sod off Hermione," he turned to leave, disappointment heavy in his chest. Crossing the small room he turned the door knob, deciding to apparate from Hogsmead rather than stay a moment longer in Hermione's presence.

Wand out, Hermione roared a finger removing jinx, directed at Harry. Harry stumbled from the office, the full force of the malignant spell manifesting itself by Harry's fingers dropping off one by one. Before he was no longer able to hold his own wand, Harry struggled to stop panicking and use a counter jinx on himself. Several students passing by in the corridor on their way to dinner stopped to gape. Professor Granger had never in any student's memory ever lost her composure. And was that Harry Potter she'd just jinxed? The Harry Potter? Hermione charged after Harry, her wand still trained on him as he fled.

"You sod off!" and with a huff and a snappish, "What?" at the gawking students Hermione returned to her office, slamming the door. "Wait till Crookshanks hears this one," she groused, thoroughly frazzled, frizzy curls escaping her tight bun. She had taken to having long, rather involved conversations with her cat, who had mellowed out with age.

Harry meanwhile stepped into the boy's toilet to collect himself. He'd managed to reattach his fingers but wanted to make sure they were secure. There was nothing quite like having one's fingers unexpectedly missing, floating around a Hogwarts corridor with students tramping all over them. His head pounding, Harry ran a hand over his face and groaned. That had not gone well at all.

a/n: I really don't think Hermione's that awful or academics can't be pretty. But the unhappy looking, strict Hermione just seemed to fit the part here. Sorry it took so long to update.