It Takes Two – part ten

Pairings: Remus/Harry, Ron/Hermione

Rated: R

Notes: More different POVs; I hope that's ok. Also, FYI: I work at a college library, so a lot of the things that Hermione (and co-worker) is doing I have done. (Although I didn't wear any sort of apron…)

Disclaimer: I don't own any characters; JKR does.

.-.

It was the last straw. Draco thought he could get away with acting like a professor again when he wasn't, and Pomfrey and McGonagall weren't about to put up with it anymore. Because of the temporary pay-cut, Malfoy needed to find another job. He didn't want to, but if he wanted to make about the same amount of Galleons that he'd been making before and expect to still get all the luxuries that he'd grown accustomed to, then he had to.

Malfoy was nearly done with his studies as well, and was about to take his final exams in about two months. Until then, he had to keep himself on the straight and narrow. He would come in early in the morning to work with Madam Pomfrey, and then he'd get tutored by a handful of selected professors. After his lectures, he'd go to the library to study or finish his homework, and then he'd go outside for a bit of flying. Once back, it was straight back to work at the hospital wing.

It was three weeks later, after his pay-cut punishment, when things suddenly changed.

He was in the library, finishing up on an essay for McGonagall, when his sunlight was blocked by someone's shadow. He looked up and sneered at his disruptor.

"Granger."

"That's Madam Weasley to you now, Malfoy," said Hermione.

"Whatever," said Draco dismissingly. "You're in my light, and I have to get this done, otherwise McGonagall will string me up by my short hairs and let Filch's cat have her way with me."

Hermione stifled a laugh and said, "Well, I heard about your pay-cut…"

"Come to boast about it? To say how much more gold you're making than me? I don't want to hear it," Malfoy sneered, and then tried to concentrate on his homework again. "So, you can just sod off."

"Um, no, that's not why I'm here. I mean I thought that maybe, since I've been practically taking over for Pince, because she hasn't been working nearly as many hours as me, that you would like to work for me… I mean, not that I would be the one paying you, but you could be my assistant like I am for Pince."

Malfoy stared at her in disbelief. "Excuse me? Me, work under you? Don't make me laugh! Why would I want to?"

Hermione bent low and whispered something into his ear. Malfoy's eyes widened.

"That's… an admirable reason."

"Good," smiled Hermione. "I'll see you here tomorrow evening, after dinner?"

Malfoy nodded.

.-.

"Thanks for helping me, Professor," said James. He hoisted his bag better onto his thin shoulders, trotting along Harry's side as they walked toward the library.

"No problem," said Harry. "I have a few things I need to look up as well."

Once inside the library, Harry was greeted by Hermione, whom looked to be busy re-labeling some books. The labels on them were cracked, peeling, and yellowish in color. The old tape that held the labels on peeled off easily when Hermione found the edge of it and pulled.

"Having fun, then?" said Harry, smirking.

"Not bad, actually," said Hermione. "I'm in charge today. Madam Pince left early to do some business. I didn't ask." She shrugged, and then returned to her peeling.

"Those books look old," stated Harry.

"They are, and they're nice, but they won't be here long."

"Why not?" Harry asked. James had slipped away from them while they were talking and had found a table near the back.

"Well, there's this thing the library does now, that I didn't know about. It's a book circulation." When Harry looked puzzled, she continued, "Older books that don't get looked at for years on end get transferred to other libraries. I've heard of it being done with Muggle libraries, but I didn't know our own library at Hogwarts did it. These books—well, they're reference books, actually—they're going to Durmstrang."

"Durmstrang?" said Harry, somewhat surprised. "Does that mean…?"

"Yeah, we get books from them," said Hermione. "And the same goes for Beauxbatons."

"But they'd be in different languages, wouldn't they?"

"The ones we get won't be. They have plenty of English and Latin books that we can trade with them. There are some books here that are French, German, Gaelic, Swedish, and Italian. Not to mention Mermish, Troll, Elvin, and Gobbledygook."

"Wow," said Harry. "I thought we only had English and Latin written books."

"You learn something new every day, huh?" she beamed. "So, how's young James doing?"

"Oh, fine. I'm helping him with his Defense Against the Dark Arts essay. Well, I'm not doing the homework for him, I'm just helping him get started."

"That's nice of you, Harry," Hermione said, smiling. "You're becoming quite the unofficial guardian of his."

Harry blushed lightly. "Er, yeah, well… I can't help it. I mean, I know what he's going through. Being an orphan and all, I mean. He has his friends, but I think he enjoys being with me and Remus."

Hermione's eyes danced, and Harry knew what she was about to ask, so he spoke before she could.

"He's fine, if you're wondering."

"So I've noticed," she said. "You two have been rather close lately."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry said, accidentally snapping.

"It just means what I said. Why? Is there something going on that I'm not supposed to know about?"

Her eyes were shining again, and Harry wondered if she knew.

"Er, no," he finally said, cheeks reddening. "Why would there be something going on between us? No, there's nothing going on… er, I have to go. James needs my help. Excuse me…"

Harry quickly walked away. Hermione stared after him in thought, finger lightly tapping her chin. There was something going on, she knew it. She'd seen how close Harry had been getting with Remus, and there'd even been a time when it looked like Harry was about to kiss Remus, but he had backed down, possibly because he was worried that anyone would see.

While Hermione was pondering this, Harry had gotten James on the right track with his essay, and then went toward the Potions section hoping to find a certain book on a certain ingredient. When he'd turned the corner, reading the spines of the books as he went, he nearly bumped into someone.

"Oops, excuse me, I—Malfoy?"

"Evening, Potter," said Malfoy. Harry held in a retort, and then had to keep hold of his tongue so that he wouldn't laugh. Malfoy was wearing a smock and holding a feather duster.

"What're you doing here?" Harry asked.

"What's it look like I'm doing?" Malfoy snapped. "I'm dusting the shelves."

"Oh," said Harry. "You work here now?"

"Unfortunately, yes," said Malfoy. He pushed some books more toward the edge of the shelves and brought the duster around them to get at the back part. Dust went flying everywhere, and Harry sneezed. "Bless you, Potter."

"Thanks—wait, so, why are you working here? I thought you worked with Madam Pomfrey."

"I still do," said Malfoy stiffly. "This is my other job."

"So, you work here part-time?" Harry grinned in amusement. "You work for Hermione?"

"The school still pays me, but yes, she's my boss…" Malfoy pulled a sour face. "Well, we're both Madam Pince's assistants, but Madam Weasley is higher up than me."

"She's having you dust shelves?" said Harry. It wasn't really a question; it was more of an amused reaction.

Malfoy recognized the amusement. "Scoff if you like, Potter, but I had no choice. It was either this or living like a… a common, everyday wizard."

Harry could tell that Malfoy had been about to say 'a Weasley', and he was glad that he changed wording; otherwise, he'd have to give Malfoy a fat lip.

"What's wrong with that?" Harry said, reining in his anger.

"You may like it, Potter, but I don't. I have my priorities," Malfoy sniffed.

"Right," said Harry. He wasn't sure what else to say. Seeing Malfoy work his arse off doing two jobs and getting his NEWTs was a little shocking. Harry didn't think he, himself, could do that.

"Well, don't let me stop you from whatever it is that you're doing," said Malfoy. "I have shelves to dust before I leave. Excuse me."

Malfoy moved to the next shelf down and started to dust around the books. Harry stared at him for a bit, and then resumed his looking. He wished there was an easier way to find what he was looking for. In a Muggle library, he could have looked it up on the computer or something, but here he had to painstakingly look at all the titles.

"Is there something in particular you're looking for?" Malfoy suddenly asked.

Harry jumped slightly when he spoke to him and looked down. Malfoy was on one knee as he began dusting the lower shelf.

"Er, I don't know if you could help. Um… I'm looking for a book about potions ingredients."

Malfoy's eyebrows flew up. "You? You want to know about potions ingredients?"

Harry felt somewhat embarrassed, but soldiered on. "Yes. It's for a project I'm doing."

Malfoy stood, brushing his knees off as he did. "I see. I thought it was a false rumor that you've taken more interest in potions. Well," he said, gesturing at the books, "you've come to the right section, at any rate. But I do know of one area that has books on nothing but ingredients."

"Great!" said Harry, a bit more enthusiastically.

Nearly laughing, Malfoy showed him to the section regarding potions and their ingredients.

"I suppose if you need any more assistance, I'm to give it to you," said Malfoy haughtily. "Good evening."

With a smile, Harry read through the book titles. There were some pretty interesting ones here.

.-.

Before going to bed, Harry read as much as he could of the books he'd checked out. Two potions bubbled slowly in their cauldrons on either side of the desk he was using, green and brown fumes wafting in the air. He learned to live with it, after nearly a year of brewing.

As he became sleepier, his thoughts drifted to the upcoming holiday. Christmas was right around the corner, and before he knew it, he would be buying presents for his friends and loved ones.

He had no clue as to what he was getting Remus, but hopefully he found something before Christmas Day. He was sure that James would be a lot easier to shop for. He knew he was when he was that young.

The words on the pages began to swim, and that was his cue to go to bed; however, he didn't seem to have the energy to stand, and he knew that was a bad sign. If he tried to walk to his bedchamber, he was sure to pass out in the middle of the floor. He didn't want Remus finding him like that.

He knew he was fighting a losing battle, so he slowly crept onto the floor and found a less lumpy place and fell asleep.

.-.-.

He was supposed to be back by now, but there was no sign of him. Remus paced their office, trying not to worry too much. He hadn't seen Harry since the night before, and it was getting to the point where he'd drank a glass of his best sherry, because he'd had finished off the rest of his mulled mead.

Finally fed up with waiting, Remus went looking for Harry. He wasn't in his room, or the Great Hall, or any of the other places he was sure to find him, and he was about to alert the other teachers so they could help him search, but then he remembered the other place he hadn't looked yet.

He ran down the stairs, feeling anxious at first, and the closer he got to the room, the more he began to feel angry. Harry wasn't supposed to be doing this to him; he was too old to be having these sort of worries. Harry could be dying for all he knew, or drowning in the lake because he got too exhausted to swim back, or he could have fallen asleep in the Forbidden Forest and could now be Acromantula chow?

Remus stopped at the foot of the door and knocked loudly. There was no answer. Figuring that if it was an emergency that he shouldn't be knocking anyway, he let himself in.

Potions were bubbling away in their cauldrons, and one in particular was boiling over. Remus quickly took it off the fire and put the fire out. He knew why this happened, because Harry wouldn't have let something like this happen if he'd been paying attention.

He found Harry fast asleep in the corner, wrapped in only his cloak and a small blanket. He seemed fine, but it looked as if he'd really worn himself out this time. Sighing in annoyance, Remus took out his wand, levitated Harry from his spot, and immediately brought him to the hospital wing. He wasn't about to care right now about what potion it was that had just been ruined, he was more worried about Harry's condition. If Harry continued on like this, he was going to end up either killing himself or putting himself into a coma.

Madam Pomfrey tisked and clucked her tongue in what Remus figured was worry and frustration. He knew exactly how she felt.

"You weren't looking after him then?" she said, brows furrowed and lips pressed into a thin line.

"I thought he was asleep in his room," Remus tried to reason with her. "Besides, he was getting aggravated by my mollycoddling and I didn't want to irritate him so much that he didn't want to talk to me again."

Pomfrey sighed. She knew that they were seeing each other, but she didn't wish to comment. It really wasn't her place, but sometimes she wished she had a say in things.

"It's a good thing you found him, anyway," she said, making sure Harry was in a comfortable position and then tucked the blankets all around him. "He'll need a couple days to rest, I think. He won't like it when he wakes, but it's either that or he runs himself into the ground again the next time he overdoes it."

"Of course," said Remus, bowing slightly, mostly in respect. Madam Pomfrey had always been so understanding about things, especially with Harry. She'd also been good about things when Remus was a student there, having to put up with him after the full moon.

Remus stayed by Harry's side that night, falling asleep on the chair. He didn't care that there were papers to grade before the next class; he wanted to make sure Harry was going to be OK.

The next morning, Ron and Hermione found out about Harry being in the hospital (he wasn't sure how they found out) and they came in with somber faces and all. Ron had brought Harry some chocolate, but Harry was still asleep. Hermione looked to be in tears, blaming herself for not noticing sooner that Harry had been working himself too hard. Ron was trying to council her, telling her that none of this was her fault; that Harry was just stubborn when it came to his own health.

"He could have… he could have died, and all because we haven't been around as much as we should have," she wailed, rubbing at her wet eyes and scrubbing her rosy cheeks.

"There, there, Hermione," said Ron, arm around her shoulders, one hand patting her knee. "He'll be all right, you know Harry. He'll be fine after a bit of rest."

"Yes, I know," she sniffed. "I just wish I hadn't been so busy myself, I could have noticed the signs sooner; I could have made him come to hospital sooner… I could have… I could have…"

"Don't beat yourself up over this, Hermione," said Remus. "Ron's right, it's not your fault. Harry should have been taking better care of himself. He doesn't like having his injury, but that's what happened, so we just have to live with it."

Hermione shook her head, but not in disagreement. Remus guessed it was in astonishment or apprehension of the situation. He couldn't blame her for feeling this way, Remus had been beating himself up over it too, even though he knew that it wasn't really his fault.

"If he doesn't get better…" Hermione sobbed.

"Hush," said Ron gently.

"You lot still here, then?" said Malfoy, rounding the curtains from around Harry's bed. "You really should leave and let Potter rest without you people hovering over him like a bunch of vultures."

Ron stood, fists clenching in what Remus recognized as defiance and anger. He stood too, to make sure Ron wouldn't overstep his boundaries.

"Watch it, slime ball," Ron snarled. "I'll bet you had something to do with Harry's state."

Draco raised an eyebrow at this, as if he were unsure of whether he should be amused or annoyed.

"Ron, you know it's not Draco's fault," said Remus.

"How do you know?" Ron snapped. "For all you know, he could have made sure that we didn't know about Harry's condition before it was too late!"

"Oh, come off it, Weasley," sneered Malfoy. "Why would I want to do a thing like that? I'd be risking my Healer's license."

"It would be worth it, wouldn't it?" said Ron, not backing down from his point of view. "You'd love to see Harry get what's coming to him."

Both of Draco's eyebrows went up this time. "You really think that Potter deserves this? That he had this coming?"

"NO! That's not what I meant!"

"Sounds like it to me," Draco sniffed.

"Stop it now, both of you," said Hermione, eyes filling with tears.

"Look, now you made my wife upset!"

"Oh, so sorry to have done so," said Draco. "I'm surprised that you got married so soon, Weasley. Are you worried that your family won't have enough siblings? When will you be getting the Mud—er, the Muggleborn pregnant, then?"

Ron lunged for Draco, but Remus stood and stopped him. Hermione shouted, "Stop it, Ronald! Not here!"

"Both of you, stop it," said Remus, trying to rein in his own temper. "Do you want to wake Harry?"

"I thought that was what you lot were doing," said Draco. "Waiting for him to wake up."

"If Harry needs his rest, then I won't have anyone disturbing him."

"He is right, Mr. Malfoy," said Madam Pomfrey. She had her wand out, pointed at their general direction. "Now, if you all would please leave so that Harry may rest undisturbed."

"He isn't even awake," said Draco.

"Be that as it may, all this ruckus will, no doubt, disturb him. He needs all the rest he can if he's to get back to normal." Remus looked away and coughed, not wanting to voice his opinion. Harry wouldn't be getting back to normal any time soon, he was sure, but he knew what Pomfrey meant.

They all left, and Remus nearly stayed, but Pomfrey's narrowed look and clucking tongue forced him to give in and leave. She was right, though; Harry needed rest without all that background noise. Besides, he had papers to grade.

.-.

Two days later, Harry finally woke up. When he first opened his eyes, he had no idea where he was. Remus was allowed to visit him a few times during his 'rest', and when Harry woke, Remus was right there, by his side.

"How're you feeling?" Remus asked right away, gripping Harry's hand.

Harry let out a soft sigh, staring up at the ceiling. "I feel… woozy; kind of groggy. What happened?"

"I found you fast asleep in the corner of the potions room," explained Remus. "I should be mad at you, but I'm more relieved than anything right now."

Harry tried to sit up, but found he couldn't. Remus laid a hand onto his shoulder so that he couldn't force himself. Harry sighed, knowing that he didn't have the energy to stay sitting up anyway, and made himself comfortable in the bed.

Suddenly, he remembered something. "Oh! My potion—"

"Don't worry about it," said Remus. "It's ruined, though, I guess, but it's off the fire."

Harry sighed dejectedly. "Great. Back to the drawing board."

"Harry…" Remus began, wanting to get to the bottom of what Harry was doing, but Harry somehow knew what he was going to ask, and held up a hand to stop him.

"Don't ask, because I'm not going to tell you."

"Why must you keep this to yourself? Do you know what you're doing to yourself by doing this? If you tell me what you're trying to do, I could help you."

Harry shook his head gently. Remus could tell it was taking a lot out of him to do so. "No, Remus. I must do this alone."

"Why?"

Harry didn't answer right away. He turned his head away from Remus, staring at the curtains. Remus wasn't sure if he should pester Harry more into telling, but when Harry spoke, it was so quiet that he almost missed it.

"Because. This is something that no one else should worry about. I want to do it by myself—for myself."

Remus opened his mouth to comment, but then closed it, knowing that no matter what he said, he knew that Harry wouldn't listen anyway.

"You scared me," he finally said. "I thought you were going to end up in a coma."

Harry didn't respond for a minute. Remus tightened his grip on Harry's hand.

Harry turned his head to stare at Remus; his eyes were hooded, his movements were languid.

"I'm sorry," Harry finally said, softly. Harry closed his eyes for a while, and Remus leaned down to place his lips onto Harry's cheek. Harry's eyes opened, and he turned his head slightly, so Remus brought his mouth over and kissed Harry carefully. Harry carefully kissed back.

He had no idea how long they'd been kissing. It turned passionate, and Remus couldn't help feeling himself become effected by it. He wanted to crawl right into bed with Harry, but he knew that it wasn't appropriate. Not wanting to, but knowing he had to, Remus gently released their kiss. Harry sighed, both in irritation and weariness. Remus frowned.

"Will you be OK now?"

Harry shrugged lightly. He knew Harry was still tired.

"I think you should get some more rest," he told Harry, and Harry could only nod. "You're not a burden, by the way, so don't even think it."

Harry's eyes opened more at that, staring at Remus. It amused Remus to know that he was right in what Harry was thinking.

"Remus, if you don't want to be with me anymore…"

"Harry, I just told you, you're not a burden, so stop thinking it. We'll get through this."

Remus sought Harry's hand again, and Harry held on tight. His eye lids were getting heavy again as Remus watched him, like a guardian angel.

"I love you," Harry murmured as sleep claimed him.

Remus brushed away the strands of hair that fell over his forehead, and leaned down and kissed it.

Harry was asleep again.

"Love you too," Remus whispered.

TBC