AN: This Part is a tad, umm, I-really-can't-think-of-a-suitable-word, but I think it is necessary to get over their respective insecurities. There are still H/Hr moments but they will be acting decidedly unlike themselves at times, which I believe is a reaction to the way the other is acting. It's a little difficult for me to write, but bear with me. I promise happiness for our favourite Duo!


Part Two

Chapter Nine

It was a Tuesday.

Until that day, the subject of Arithmancy was just another subject to Harry. From early on, Harry determined it just wasn't for him and he had been perfectly fine with that. Numbers and equations did not interest him in the way they interested Hermione and he had never complained about it before.

Not until that Tuesday.

As with every Tuesday, Hermione had an Arithmancy lesson in the afternoon. In the time that he was out of her presence, he decided that there was no way he could tell her his personal realisation just yet. Any which way he looked at the possibility of actually telling her, he normally just descended onto the three precious words that would probably change everything. Everything. Which was something he was sure neither of them were ready for, given that they were both still struggling with painful demons of War and death.

And plus, who was to say she even felt the same way? Harry needed to be absolutely sure before he went and dropped the word love into the cauldron. Her friendship was too important to him.

Harry just wanted to talk to Hermione about it. She was, in fact, the person who he talked to about everything going on with him, both physically and emotionally. She was, inexplicably, his person.

So, there Harry stood, waiting outside the Arithmancy classroom, waiting for the only person he knew he would never be able to live without. He was nervous, even shaking from the truth of it. He was also rather excited, but in a reserved kind of way. Hermione might have even called it a Harry Potter kind of way, which kept him smiling as he stared at the closed classroom door.

Harry had given it a lot of thought. Any thought at all was a lot for Harry Potter. For years, he'd acted first and thought later. He'd said things as he thought them. But, after the War, he knew he was different. He felt different. Hermione pointed out all the things that seemed to have changed about him and the first one was that he was definitely calmer.

At first, Harry hadn't understood what that meant but then the situation with Ron presented itself and he suddenly knew what she meant. He was always calm. Hermione also said that he was thoughtful. Harry knew that he now thought things through before he opened his mouth. He didn't know if it was to do with getting them caught by the Snatchers during the Hunt or if he just didn't have anything important to say anymore. Either way, it was something that had definitely changed about him.

Apparently, quite a few other things had changed as well. One morning, Harry Potter woke up and he just couldn't look at his best friend without heat rising up his neck. Hermione also happened to be the only person he wanted to talk to about it. He had no idea if this was something he would be able to talk to Ron about. How could he admit to the redhead that perhaps he'd been wrong to say their mutual best friend was loved like a sister? If that were indeed the case, Harry was dreaming of incest, which was beyond disturbing.

When the bell signaling the end of the lesson sounded, Harry's body stiffened in anticipation. He was actually just eager to see her. The first students to walk out were Padma and Parvati, who greeted Harry quite heartily before heading off down the corridor. Harry had to wait a full minute before Hermione finally emerged, followed closely by Michael Corner.

"I'll meet you in the library in ten minutes," Hermione said to the Ravenclaw boy, before she turned her attention to Harry. "Hi you," she said, smiling a smile that nearly turned him into a puddle. She was almost looking at him like she knew.

"Hi," he said, grinning at her.

She looked at his empty, fidgeting hands. "What? No muffin?"

"I was kind of hoping to give you something a little sweeter," he said. Then he shook his head, silently berating himself. What did that even mean? Why would you even say such a thing, Potter?

Hermione gave him a confused look but didn't comment. "Come on, walk me to Gryffindor Tower. I need to pick up fresh parchment."

Harry fell into step beside her. Of course, he'd wanted to ask her if they could go and talk somewhere private but she seemed to have already made other plans. Whatever he had to say could definitely wait but he still had to ask the question. "Why are you meeting Corner in the library?"

"Because we're going to make passionate love," she said teasingly, easily making his breath hitch. At his look of complete horror, Hermione let out a nervous laugh. "I'm kidding, Harry. We're working on an assignment that Professor Vector just gave us. We're supposed to do it in pairs."

Harry couldn't rid his mind of the image of Hermione and Corner in a lip-lock, or more... He was literally trembling at such a thought. How could she be so casual about it?

"Harry?"

He shook himself out of his twisted thoughts. "Sorry. What?"

"You're doing that thing again."

"What thing?"

She gave him a sideways look. "Don't do that. You know what I'm talking about. This is strange Harry in front of me."

Without a word, he put his arm around her shoulders as they continued to walk. "I missed you is all," he said softly. "And I hate Arithmancy."

Hermione laughed, not at all put off by the contact. She even slipped her arm around his waist to make their positions more comfortable. It always amazed her that they fit so well. Others usually bumped hips or walked out of sync. "You'd love it if you took it," she said. "It'd definitely give you more of a challenge than everything else you're doing now."

"Hermione, there is absolutely nothing you could possibly say or do to make me want to do Arithmancy."

It was a sentence said so easily that both of them could believe its innocence. Harry would later come to take back his words with vehement viciousness. The anger even surprised him. For, on that fateful Tuesday, Harry Potter sat alone at a table in the library and watched as Michael Corner shamelessly flirted with his Hermione. It really was a test of his control, he supposed, that he didn't rise from his seat and bludgeon the Ravenclaw seventh year right into the cold, hard ground.

"Keep it together, Potter," he muttered to himself as he dropped his head and read through his notes from Ancient Runes, which he'd taken up after the Hunt. It quickly became apparent that he wouldn't be able to concentrate when Hermione's giggling was filling his ears. When did Hermione even giggle? She was definitely not a giggling type of girl.

Harry found himself getting irritated. He was supposed to be sitting with Hermione. He was supposed to be at her side, making her laugh - like normal - and it was eating away at his insides in a way that he'd never experienced before.

Because Harry had been in this position before. Not that he thought Hermione and Corner would ever actually be a thing. It was just that he had sat on the sidelines and watched the human being of his affection interact with someone else one too many times. This time, though, it felt different. All Hermione and Corner were doing was talking and Harry was ready to eviscerate the boy from existence.

When Luna, Ginny and Neville rolled into the library, Harry immediately beckoned them over with a gesture with his hand. They were surprised to find Hermione not sitting with him. After muttering the reason behind his and Hermione's separation, the four settled in to work on their History of Magic essays due Friday. It was the type of work that required other people, to make sure that nobody fell asleep while working.

It took almost two hours for each of them to get at least three substantial paragraphs done, which made Harry believe the afternoon was rather productive, given that the subject was History of Magic.

Productive in that regard, at least.

"Want to head to the Great Hall for dinner?" Neville asked eventually.

The remaining three all nodded, immediately starting to pack up their things. Once Harry was done, he turned to the other three: "You guys go on. I'll get Hermione."

As he moved towards the table at which Hermione and Corner were sitting, it never once occurred to him that Hermione would send him away. It never once crossed his mind that she would tell him to go on without her. As soon as he said her name, the way they both looked up at him told him that he was bothering them, which was something that Harry doubted he would ever forget.

In a moment, he felt like a burden.

"Potter?" Corner sounded.

Harry kept his eyes on Hermione. "We're going to dinner. Are you coming?"

"You go on," she said easily. "We're getting to an interesting part here. I'll see you later for patrol."

Harry stared at her for a moment, not quite understanding what she said. Then, from the impatient look on her face, he did. "Oh." Without another word, he turned and headed right out of the library, his heart rising up into his throat. It suddenly wasn't even about the fact that she was the girl he had deep feelings for talking to another boy. No. It was so much more than that now. In a moment, Harry's existence had been an inconvenience.

He surmised that he was probably overreacting. It didn't mean anything. She was just so engrossed in her work. Harry had seen it happen before. He should have seen the signs before he approached her, just so he didn't have to feel this way.

But he did feel it, and he needed Hermione to help him stop it.

Harry did not go to the Great Hall. He suddenly didn't feel very hungry. In fact, he didn't feel like seeing or talking to anybody. So, instead, he made his way to Gryffindor Tower, climbed the stairs two at a time and disappeared behind his bed curtains of the Head Boy's room. His emotions were running rampant and he needed to get them under control before something awful happened. His mind was most dangerous when Harry lost hold of his thoughts. It took on a life of its own, taking him down dark, torturous paths.

Harry lay back on his bed and closed his eyes, trying to rid his mind of the dark thoughts. It hadn't been his intention to fall asleep but unconsciousness soon claimed him and he was hit by painful nightmares, ranging from the fight with the basilisk right to his final battle with Voldemort. The dueling lights surrounded him and the sounds of people dying around him engulfed every fibre of his being.

Hermione found Harry writhing in bed. He was slashing at the air, his body seizing uncontrollably and he was screaming. Like, really screaming. She immediately cast a Silencing Charm around him and climbed onto the bed, careful to avoid being swiped by one of his flailing arms. Early in their arrangement, they'd promised to wake each other from the terrible dreams. Hermione didn't have to be the smartest witch of their generation to know that this one was a particularly bad one.

"Harry?" she said, starting slow and soft as if the gentleness of her voice could get through the anguish so clearly etched into his face. He was even sweating. When that didn't work - as she suspected it wouldn't - Hermione straddled Harry's waist and grabbed hold of his arms, pinning them down on the bed. She hated having to force him awake almost as much as she was sure he did too. It was dangerous for both of them, but she wouldn't want to exist in a nightmare any more than he would. "Harry?" Louder this time. "Harry, wake up. Please wake up, Harry!"

Hermione was made vaguely aware of Neville entering the room and coming to stand at their side. He looked ashen at the sight of his friend.

"Neville," Hermione practically growled at the boy. "Do you think you and Ginny can handle our patrol tonight?" It was difficult to hold Harry down and talk to Neville at the same time but she was just managing it. "Neville!"

"Shouldn't I stay?" he managed to get out.

"No!" she barked. "I don't need help," she added more calmly, even as Harry forced his one arm out of her grip. "And I'm sure Harry doesn't want you to see this. Please, Neville. Please go."

Neville's eyes darted from her face to Harry's, and then back to hers. Then, with a slight nod of his head, he silently backed out of the room.

Hermione turned her full attention back to Harry. She pressed down on his arms hard and brought her face closer to his. "Harry! Wake up! Wake up, I'm here. I'm here. It's okay." She was contemplating slapping him, because it was something that had worked before. She was just glad she didn't have to when his eyes snapped open. In a flurry of action - or inaction on her part - Harry sat up abruptly, knocking her right off of him, and she landed on the floor with a thud.

Harry looked around, his eyes blinking rapidly. He had no idea where he was or what was happening. Only the sound of Hermione's calm voice set a marker for him. He turned his attention to her as she slowly stood, rubbing her bottom of the pain of her sudden landing. His eyes were already filling with tears. "Hermione?" he cried.

She had her arms around him in the next instant, rocking him gently. "It's okay," she whispered, rubbing his back. "It's okay."

"Don't leave me," he found himself mumbling into her shoulder. "Don't leave me, Hermione."

"I'm right here," she told him strongly. "I'm here, Harry."

He was bumbling like a scared little boy and he hated himself for it. This wasn't him. This had never been him. Even while he'd been beaten as a child, he'd remained strong. He'd faced Voldemort countless times and never wavered. What was this? "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Just don't go."

And she continued to hold him, her grip never loosening.

Harry slowly, carefully, moved to hold her back, eventually clutching at her as he came down from his emotional seizure. He felt exhausted.

"Lie back," Hermione instructed him.

"No, don't go," he said quickly, panic raising his heartbeat.

"I'm not going anywhere," she said, her tone light and reassuring. "I promise. I just want to lie down with you."

Harry slowly lay back against his pillows, pulling her down with him. Once they were settled in position, with Hermione in the crook of his arm, her ear pressed to his heart; Harry let out an amused breath. "I'm sorry about tossing you earlier."

"As am I."

Harry said nothing.

She snuggled in closer to him, breathing him in. "Do you want to tell me about it?"

He swallowed, not really wanting to relive what he had just relived. "It was everything all at once," he eventually said. "It was a bad one, Hermione. Thank you for being here."

Hermione swallowed. Lie. "I'll always be here, Harry. I'm not going anywhere."


As much as Harry tried to believe her words, her actions were telling a different story. Harry was sure that they were things she wasn't actually doing on purpose. She probably had no idea what she was doing to him and he wouldn't tell her, because they were supposed to be learning how to survive without the other. As far as he could tell, he was a terrible student.

Hermione spent most, if not all, of her free time working on her Arithmancy project, which meant that she was spending most, if not all, of her free time with Michael Corner.

Harry tried not to think about it too much. It was just a phase. Once the project was over, Hermione would come back to him and they could finally have that talk about those feelings that he couldn't possibly say out loud to anyone other than her.

The problem really was that the stupid Arithmancy project was a rather large project, to be handed in on the day before they departed for the Christmas Holiday, which was literally months away. Harry had growled internally when she told him that part. The project counted for majority of Hermione's term mark, so she definitely wasn't going to slack, as much as Harry pleaded. She always told him that they would spend alone time together during their patrols, which Harry eventually accepted. Any time with her was gratefully received.

Tending towards masochistic behaviour, Harry insisted on sitting at his usual table where he could keep an eye on Hermione and Corner. It was a little under two weeks after they'd received the project when Harry noticed that their heads were getting closer together whenever they pored over the same book. The entire thing kept a permanent scowl on his face. And, as he sat there, he knew there really wasn't anything he could do about it without revealing that he had a serious problem with merely the fact that the boy was within a metre of Hermione.

Harry was leaning over his Charms homework when a voice he was sure he would never actually hear again interrupted his already-wayward thoughts: "I bet you wish you were doing Arithmancy right about now, don't you?"

Harry whipped his head around to see the owner of the voice staring at him rather darkly. "What?" he hissed.

Daphne Greengrass threw some of her loose blonde hair behind her shoulder with her right hand. "Stop staring at them. It's creepy."

Harry just blinked. "Why are you talking to me?"

"Didn't you hear, the whole damn school system has gone and died? I can have conversations with whomever I want now."

Harry would have responded but the sound of Hermione's laugh caught his attention and he had to look back at where she was still sitting with Michael Corner, her hand on his arm as she candidly berated him for something he must have said.

Daphne let out a long whistle. "Wow, you've got it bad, Potter," she said, smiling slightly.

Harry didn't respond.

"Piece of advice: stop staring. It's incredibly sad. It's only a school project, you know? Once it's done, she'll be right back with you."

Harry wanted to ask how she could be sure but that would mean admitting something he wasn't ready to. Why should he be worried about Hermione spending time with other... boys?

"Although..." Daphne added, her eyes practically glowing with Slytherin charm. "I mean, Corner is rather good looking. He's also smart. I can definitely see the appeal."

"You're not helping," Harry found himself muttering.

Daphne let out a light laugh. "Who said I was trying to help?"

Harry had enough. "Right," he said hotly, gathering his things and stuffing them into his book bag rather violently. "How could I ever be so stupid to think that a Slytherin would dream of helping me?" he stood up, his chair falling to the ground, drawing unwanted attention to himself. "Of course you'd enjoy seeing all of this. I'm so glad nothing's changed."

Harry didn't want her words to have affected him as much as they did but he really didn't need anyone reveling in the fact that Hermione was currently in an eye lock with Michael Corner.

He lifted his chair and pushed it in rather harshly, drawing even more attention. He swore under his breath. "If you'll excuse me." Then he stalked out of the library, anger rumbling all around him. He could literally feel himself losing control of his magic. He needed to find something to focus on, before he burned a literal hole into the ground.

Most people had watched the exchange between Harry and Daphne with keen interest. Why would Slytherin's ice-queen be talking to Gryffindor's golden boy?

"What do you think that was all about?" Corner asked Hermione, as they returned their attention back to the open book in front of them after witnessing the mild spectacle.

Hermione was thoughtful. "I don't know," she said softly. "She was probably just passing a remark or something."

Corner watched her face for a moment, trying to read her facial expression. "What's bothering you?"

She shook her head. "Oh, nothing. Where were we?"

Corner leaned back and folded his arms across his chest. "I'm not reading another sentence until you tell me what's on your mind."

She gave him a genuine smile. "It really is nothing," she assured him but he wasn't having any of it. "Okay... It's just that she must have said something pretty damning for Harry to flee," she explained her thoughts. "He normally doesn't do that."

Corner just nodded his understanding. "Do you want to go and check on him? We can take a break if you want, or even continue tomorrow?"

Hermione regarded the boy for a moment, tempted to take him up on his offer. Eventually, she shook her head. "No, I'm sure it's nothing. I'll talk to him later."

Corner just stared at her, slightly disbelieving.

Hermione noticed. "What?"

"I don't know," he said shrugging. "I guess, well, if I were him, I would want my girlfriend to check on me."

Now it was Hermione's turn to stare at him. "Michael, I'm not Harry's girlfriend, you know?"

That seemed to surprise him. "You're not?"

"Definitely not."

"But you're always together," he pointed out. "And holding hands and stuff."

Hermione looked him in the eyes, her tone almost severe, a testament of her own strong beliefs. There would never be any more.. "Harry and I are best friends, Michael. Nothing more."

Michael just stared, taking in her words.

"And if you thought I was his girlfriend, why have you been flirting with me?" she asked, curiosity getting the better of her.

"Wishful thinking," he said, shrugging.

Hermione couldn't stop her blush.

With all the new information, slowly, a smile crept across Corner's face, his eyes even lighting up with the possibility. "Well, if that really is the case, then, what are you doing for Hogsmeade weekend?"


Harry would say that he handled it quite well. When Hermione told him that Michael Corner had asked her out, Harry did not shout, curse, cry or pass out. It did, however, break his fleeting heart and render him speechless.

Wait. What?

He also didn't express the right amount of enthusiasm apparently. He managed to tell her that it was his job to be suspicious of possible suitors, seeing as he was her family, which was a sentence that deeply bothered him.

Not only was it a complete and utter lie, it also painted him as her brother. He practically cringed as he said the words.

What made it worse, at least for Hermione, was that neither Ginny nor Luna were excited for her either. In truth, Harry had no idea why that was. He had his own reasons and he was left to muse about what theirs were.

Hermione merely took it in stride. The only person who showed remotely any interest in her tales about Corner was Neville. Not that he had much choice in the matter though. Poor Neville. Once Hermione caught you, she kept you caged by talking at you. Harry found it rather endearing. Others, well, others found it rather frightening. Harry probably loved her more for it.

When news spread about Hermione's impending visit to Hogsmeade with Michael Corner, it was officially 'open season' on Harry. Ginny explained to him that majority of the Castle were convinced that he and Hermione were an item. Now that it was proven that they weren't, Potter was fair game once more. At this, Harry buried his face in his hands and Ginny just laughed sympathetically.

It started slow. Only the braver girls attempted to approach him at first and, being Harry, he was terribly polite to them. He even made the mistake of flashing one a smile and she all but nearly passed out. If Harry wasn't so disturbed by the entire thing, he might have even laughed.

Hermione found it all rather hilarious, and Harry wasn't able to determine if it was a good or bad thing. The fact that she wasn't taking it seriously was good but the fact that it didn't make her stand up and take notice was bad. Very bad. It seemed that she was okay with the thought of Harry interacting with various other girls. Was she really?

After that entire thing with Emily, she'd appeared a little cold, but this? She seemed almost happy for him. Was that Corner's doing? Didn't she care?

Damn.

"You'll protect me from them, won't you?" Harry asked Ginny one night as they sat at the Gryffindor table for dinner. "I can face Voldemort and dragons any day but this is too much."

Ginny, once more, just laughed. "I'll flank your right, Harry, don't worry."

"And I'll be on your left," Luna said.

In that moment, it was painfully clear to them that Hermione would no longer be at Harry's side. In the days since she agreed to go to Hogsmeade with Corner, they'd seen less and less of her. And not only Harry was feeling the gaping hole that her absence left. Like at this moment, she was somewhere in the library, practically tucked into Corner's side as they read through some decrepit book about that horrific project that was slowly stealing his best friend.

Because of it, Harry was in a constant state of anxiety. His nightmares were at an obscene level of quantity and ruthlessness, and he was barely sleeping. All he wanted was Hermione. All of her, in every way possible.

With kind eyes, Ginny turned her gaze towards Harry. "Are you okay, Harry?"

He wasn't brave enough to respond.

"Does it bother you, when you see Hermione and Michael together?"

The way Ginny asked the question took Harry back to a night in his sixth year. It wasn't a particularly pleasant memory but he definitely had worse ones. The horrific role reversal between the two witches made his breath hitch. It was almost amazing how life had changed since then. At the time, he'd been worried over things so futile when the Dark Lord was running rampant. Now he could worry about the simple things without feeling guilty about setting aside the fact that he was the one with the 'Power He Knows Not' to defeat the darkest wizard of their generation.

"Because it definitely bothers me," Ginny added when Harry still didn't respond immediately.

Harry looked at her. "Because you dated him?"

Ginny thought about that for a moment as if he was just reminding of such a thing happening some years ago. "Not exactly." She seemed to think about it some more. "Okay, just think about this for a moment: Michael dated me, he dated Cho and now he's going to date Hermione. It's like he's trying to be you."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Seriously, Ginny?"

"Seriously, Harry. Just think about it. It's really kind of creepy actually. He's basically dated everyone you've been interested in."

Harry's eyes widened. "That's not true. I've never been interested in Hermione."

Luna looked at him when he said that, though she said nothing. He suspected she was seeing all the nargles descending on his face from the potency of his lie. Though, he had to determine that he wasn't fully lying. He'd never been interested in Hermione. It just went from 'she's my best friend' to 'this is the girl I want to be with for the rest of my life' in such a short time. There wasn't much, if any, in between.

"Sure Harry," Ginny said knowingly, risking a smile.

Harry swallowed. Then, when he spoke, his voice was barely audible in the Great Hall. "He's not terrible, is he? I mean, he'll treat her right and stuff?"

Ginny nodded once, realising that he needed the affirmation, not an explanation.

Luna spoke up about the matter: "Though I suspect you want the date to go badly, don't you, Harry?"

Harry just shrugged before returning his attention to his plate of food, not wanting to answer. He'd decided not to comment too much. He definitely didn't speak to Hermione about his feelings about the entire situation and, whenever she brought it up, he always tried to change the subject.

Ginny looked at Luna before leaning in to whisper: "Oh, he totally does, doesn't he?"

Luna nodded, her eyes drifting towards the distracted Harry. "I do believe he has figured it out."

Ginny beamed. "That's good then, right?"

Luna turned her attention to the girl sitting at her side, her face passive. "Maybe."

"Maybe? What do you mean maybe?"

Luna looked back towards Harry, who was picking at his food without trying to draw attention to the fact that he wasn't eating. "Look at him, Ginny," Luna whispered. "It's great that he's figured it out, but if she doesn't soon then I think that we're going to end up losing him in a way we never expected."

Ginny's smile disappeared at the sound of that. "Well, then, I guess that we're going to have to do something about that, aren't we?"

"He wouldn't want us to interfere, Ginny."

"So, what? Are we just expected to sit here and just watch this happen? It's killing me to see it. I can only imagine how he must feel."

Luna didn't appear at all emotional about the situation. Ginny needed her calm head. "It's all going to work out in the end," she said seriously. "I foresee it."