Chapter Fourteen

"That's it, then," Daphne said proudly. "The last patrol of term."

Harry nodded his head in agreement. "It's been a long one, hasn't it?"

"The term or the patrol?"

"The term," Harry replied. "But that's probably because I've been awake for two thirds of it, as opposed to half."

"All you do is complain," she muttered.

He grinned at her. "You're definitely going to miss me over Christmas Break."

"What are you doing for Christmas anyway?"

Harry shrugged. "Probably headed to the Burrow - that's the Weasleys' home - and then maybe a few other things. I have a plan, but Hermione and I haven't really talked about it yet..." he trailed off for a moment before he cleared his throat. "What about you? Planning any scathing revelations, are you?"

And in that moment, Daphne finally made the decision. The truth was that she'd spent majority of her day toying with the idea but now she was certain.

Before they made the mutual decision to head towards the dungeons, Daphne practically shoved him into a broom cupboard. Hard enough to make him stumble.

Harry almost fell over a bucket. "Blimey, Daphne," he muttered, barely regaining his balance. "Are you trying to kill me?"

Daphne shut the door behind her and immediately cast a Silencing Charm. She took a moment to calm herself, her eyes settling on his confused face. "I'm going to tell him."

Harry ran a hand through his hair, immediately knowing what she was talking about. "When?"

"Over Christmas. He and his mother are attending the annual party that my parents throw. I think it's the right time. I think he's ready; I think we are."

"You're sure?" he felt he had to ask.

"Positive."

"That's amazing!" he said, allowing himself to smile. "Do you know how you're going to do it?"

"No clue."

"Do you want to practice on me?"

Daphne gave him a rather seductive look that made him swallow. "Do you mean the way I've already been practicing on you?"

Harry fought the urge to squirm. Really, it felt like she was undressing him with her eyes.

"Because you know we won't be able to do that again once I tell him, right?"

Harry pushed out his bottom lip in mock hurt. "We won't?"

Daphne laughed out loud. "Harry!"

He smiled innocently. "No, I totally understand. I suppose I just wish I'd known that the last time."

"Why?"

He felt a bit embarrassed. "Oh, I don't know... It's stupid."

"What? Tell me."

"It's nothing, really. It just would have been nice to know."

Daphne gave him one of those seductive smiles once more and Harry shivered. "Why do you think we're in here, Potter?"

Harry was skeptical. "One last time?"

She nodded.

Harry barely gave her time to finish her sentence before his lips were on hers. Harry knew he had improved dramatically in this department. Everything to do with Daphne was a steep learning curve.

Harry pushed her up against the door and, somehow, in his haste, the light went out. Not that they cared. His tie came off after his jersey and she unbuttoned his shirt, hands eager to touch his Quidditch muscles.

Her tie was in the way. Even as he pulled it off, he was aware that this would be the first and the last time this would happen. It was wildly exhilarating and he was happy that they could reach this closure and still remain friends.

They made out for a lot longer than they ever had and they were both completely breathless when they finally stopped.

"I think that I could run a marathon from all the breath you've stolen from me," Daphne said, buttoning up her own shirt in the dark. She bent to lift up their ties and handed one to him.

"You're going to miss me, aren't you?"

"Maybe."

"And every time you kiss Malfoy, you're going to think of me."

"Merlin, I hope not."

Harry laughed, moving towards the door. "Get rid of the Silencing Charm, will you?"

"Wait. I'm still getting dressed. Who knew just kissing could dishevel clothes like this?"

He smirked at her. "I'm a talented wizard, Greengrass. Never forget."

"How could I? You remind me every day, you egotistical maniac."

"I can see it now, you know... You'll be in the throes of ecstasy and, instead of screaming Malfoy's name; you'll scream mine!"

"I don't know what I find more disturbing: the thought that you're thinking of me and Draco that way or that you think I would be thinking of you while doing the deed."

"Deny it all you want," he muttered, opening the door and stepping out. "You're always going to want me." And then he was walking and he didn't bother to close the door behind him.

"Oh, you're evil, Potter," she said hotly, rushing after him as she tucked her tie away and straightened her skirt.

Harry was forced to break into a run to evade her lunge towards him. At some point, she managed to grab onto his jersey and he slowed to a stop, still breathless and laughing gloriously.

Daphne fell into step beside him and Harry did an unthinkable thing by taking hold of her hand. She didn't say anything. Tonight was the last night they were allowed to avoid their lives.

"I'm going to tell Draco," Daphne confirmed, as if she had to remind herself. "Which means that you're going to have to tell Granger."

"Because we had a deal, didn't we?"

Daphne sneaked a look in his direction. "We did." She watched him take a long, calming breath. "You're not going to try to get out of it?"

He shook his head. "I have to tell her. I can't go on like this, really. I'll tell her and that will be it. It'll be her turn to make decisions."

"Aren't you afraid of rejection?"

"Aren't you?"

"Deadly."

Harry sighed. "I'm a Gryffindor. I should have told her weeks ago. I mean, I really should have told her the moment I met her. I'm brave enough to face whatever her reaction does to me; I just don't want her to have to face what it does to her."

"Honestly, Harry, you're too good. Sometimes I wonder if she really deserves you."

He tilted his head, giving her a sideways look. "If she doesn't deserve me, Daphne; who in this world possibly could?"

"Hermione is very lucky."

He smiled at the use of Hermione's first name. He decided to repay the nicety. "So is Draco."

She smiled too. Then, perking up a bit, she said, "And on the off chance that we both do end up getting rejected, we can just go back to making out in broom cupboards."

He laughed out loud. "As tantalising as that sounds, I really hope neither of us gets rejected. Even Draco Malfoy deserves some semblance of happiness."

"You reckon he'd find that with me?" she asked softly, her voice sounding more vulnerable than she intended.

"Why not?" Harry said, noticing. "I mean, when you weren't trying to suffocate him in his sleep, sure."

She bumped his shoulder with her own. "You're an idiot," she concluded. Then, dropping her tone to something serious: "Do you think it will be different after the holidays?"

"If you and Malfoy are together?"

She nodded.

"Are you referring to you and me, or just in general? Because, generally, I think the colours will go out of the world for you, if you're with Malfoy."

"Ha! Can you be serious for one minute?"

He laughed at himself. "Things will change. They definitely will. I doubt you and I will hang out as much, but that's okay. Because that was all this was, right? Helping each other get what we really want. And I want Hermione. She's all I want."

"Sometimes I just can't get over how lucky she is," Daphne said, shaking her head. "And then I remember how stubborn and blind she is and I just want to shake her. I mean, seriously, Harry Potter is head over heels for you. Open your eyes and see him!"

Harry ran a nervous hand through his hair. "She'll see. I'm going to tell her."

"Do you think they'll be okay with a double date some time in the future?"

He laughed, even cackling softly. "I don't even think I'm okay with that! But I reckon Hermione might consider, provided she never finds out what we just did in that broom cupboard."

"Hey! It's not my fault you have wandering hands."

"Some would say 'expert' hands."

"Who, Harry? Who would say that?"

He shrugged. "I would never reveal my sources."

"Do you have references?"

Her question took Harry back to the start of this whole thing. They'd both come a long way in such a short time, and he really believed that they'd helped each other. Somehow, in whatever way, they'd given the other what they needed, however emotionally or physically. But now it was time to face it.

Daphne was right. It was time.

After he dropped her off at the dungeons; Harry headed straight back to the Gryffindor common room, his mind running a mile a minute about how he could tell Hermione that he'd loved her for months now. For years.

Hermione was waiting for him. The two of them hadn't properly spoken since the debacle in their DADA class. Professor Puth has received an indefinite suspension and the Seventh-Years were given free periods until the end of term. Majority of them were, in fact, War veterans so it wasn't a huge slight to their academic goals.

Harry had to admit that he was surprised to see her. And the fact that there was no book anywhere near her was alarming. She'd waited because she wanted to talk. Just from the look on her face, he knew that whatever she was about to tell him would change things.

"Hey," Harry managed to say.

"Hey," Hermione replied softly. Then, "Where were you?"

Harry couldn't read her tone, but it was nothing he had ever heard before, more curious than a reprimand but still rather icy, like she was irritated with herself for her own reaction. "Umm, patrol."

"Your patrol ended more than an hour ago."

Harry swallowed. She knew, didn't she? Could he lie? "Oh, umm, we ended up just talking in the Prefects' common room."

"No you didn't," she said quickly, still frowning. "I went to look. I've been looking for you for a while. I was worried."

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. She was worried? Since when? "We were just walking around," he finally said. "Why? Is something wrong? Did something happen to Ron?"

"No, nothing like that," she said, offering him a genuine smile. "I just need to talk to you about something rather important," she said, patting the couch beside her, inviting him to sit with her.

Harry didn't move. From the new look on her face, he had an idea of what she was about to tell him and he would not be able to stay calm if he were to sit down. "No, I think I'll stand," he said dryly.

Hermione cleared her throat, deciding not to fight him on his determination. She opened her mouth to explain to him that it was her decision to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas, when she caught sight of Harry's tie.

Except, it wasn't actually Harry's tie, and Hermione felt something painful twist within her.

"Harry, what's that around your neck?" she found herself asking, unable to resist.

"What?" he asked innocently, more confused than anything.

Hermione stood up to get a better look at him. "Your tie. It's a Slytherin one."

Harry felt his stomach drop, and the air in lungs force its way upwards. Keeping his wits about him, Harry let out a nervous laugh. "You noticed, huh?"

Hermione frowned. "Why are you wearing a Slytherin tie, Harry? Is it Daphne's?"

Harry could only imagine what Hermione could be thinking and he needed to squash it down as soon as possible. "It's Daphne's, yeah," he answered easily. "Supposed to be some joke."

Hermione didn't look at all convinced and Harry's heart began to race. There was no way he would admit the truth, for both Daphne's and his own sakes. If Hermione were to know, then Draco would surely find out somehow.

And he'd promised. They made a deal. Nobody was to know.

"Not a very funny one, I can see," he added, trying to cement his lie.

Hermione shook her head, sensing his lie. "You know, you could have told me."

He frowned. "What?"

"About you and Daphne."

Harry swallowed, suddenly feeling rather winded. "What about me and Daphne?"

"You're seeing her, aren't you? You could have told me, Harry."

"Told you what, Hermione? There's nothing to tell."

"But your tie, Harry; you can't tell me that was an accident."

For a moment, Harry's anger flared. She had no right to make assumptions about him, even if those assumptions happened to be correct, but still not really right either. "I told you it was some joke," he repeated. "Why won't you believe me?"

"Because I can tell that you're lying."

"Oh, because you're just an expert on Harry Potter then, aren't you?" The snark in his tone was enough to catch her a bit off guard. "I'm sorry, Hermione, but you don't know anything about me anymore. Why are you even down here? I mean, it isn't as if I ask you what you get up to during your patrols! Or after, for that matter!"

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Yeah. Why is that?"

"What?"

"Why do you never ask?"

Harry was stumped. How did they get to this? And was this really the way he would tell her that he was so hopelessly in love with her that hearing her even mention another boy's name caused him physical pain?

No. No it wasn't.

"Because it's not something I need to know," he said simply. "I have to deal with enough miscreants on my patrols; why would I want to hear about yours?"

She eyed him for a moment, certain that he wasn't telling her the truth. But, before she could even think to mention it, he started speaking again.

"And I don't have to explain myself to you," he added, his tone taking on a certain harshness that neither of them expected. This was so far away from the sentiment he'd been agonising over just moments ago. "You gave up the right to ask about my whereabouts or what I get up to when you decided to stop caring about me."

Hermione pressed her lips together, just waiting. Did he really think that she didn't care about him?

Clearly, he had more to say, and it seemed like it was all going to come out tonight. He must have spent a lot of time thinking about all of this, because the new Harry Potter didn't usually say things without thinking first. Though, he did give the impression that he was about to embark on a self-destructive rampage.

Harry was quick to continue, his heart thumping in his chest. "I came here for you," he said, his voice rising. "I bloody well came to this damn Castle where I watched my friends die, for you. We both know that. I made the decision because I wanted to be with you; because I needed you, and I had the stupid thought that you needed me too. But you clearly don't, so that's decided it then, hasn't it?

"Tomorrow, I'm going to get on that bloody train, and I won't come back," he practically spat. "You won't have to worry anymore. You won't have to set aside time for me or anything like that. I don't need you doing me any favours. Support Ravenclaw, for all I bloody care." He snapped his mouth shut, wondering if he'd said too much. He didn't know if she knew that Ginny might have mentioned the real reason she'd been present on the day of the Quidditch match against Ravenclaw.

But he was just so damn angry.

"I can't do it anymore," he said, deflating. "I can't, and I won't. I'll go where I'm needed; where I'm wanted, Hermione, and clearly it's not here," he said. "We decided. We damn well decided! I've served my purpose, haven't I? I can now go be with Ron. At least he wants me around." It was said with such a finality that even Harry's breath caught. "Dammit, Hermione," he hissed; "what did you do to us?"

Harry didn't bother to wait for a response. He didn't want to hear what she had to say anymore. This thing they had, it was broken.

Harry headed straight down to the dungeons, needing to see Daphne right away. He had no idea how to get to her though. It wasn't as if they had means of communicating when they weren't in the same place. He made a mental note to fix that as soon as possible.

Harry decided to wait. Someone was bound to leave, or enter at some point.

The second he thought of it; he immediately regretted it. Of course it would be Draco Malfoy. This night was just getting better and better, wasn't it?

Harry was tempted to ignore him and wait for another student to come by, but he desperately needed to talk to Daphne. He needed her bluntness to get him through his somewhat 'self-destructive rampage.' He felt out of control all of a sudden.

"Potter," Malfoy drawled.

Harry took a deep breath, but it offered him no respite. "Malfoy, do you think you could get Daphne for me?" he rushed, getting all the words out before his brain told his mouth to close.

Malfoy's eyes narrowed to slits in the dimply lit corridor. "And why would I do that?"

"Because I really need to talk to her," Harry replied. "It's important."

"Why don't you just stop flaunting it about, Potter?"

Harry frowned. "What?"

"Don't think I haven't noticed the way that you two are always together? Nobody believes that all you do is patrol."

Harry took a step back, trying and failing to figure out what exactly was in Malfoy's voice. It was anger. Was it hurt? Resignation?

Harry tried to ignore it. "I need to speak to her right now," he said. "Please, can you just get her, and then I can go?"

"No," Malfoy said.

"No?"

"I said no."

Harry blinked. "But why?"

"Why would I facilitate a meeting between you two?"

Harry growled. "This is not one of those times when you get to throw whatever misconceived ideas you have about me around," he said. "I'm in a crisis right now, and I need to talk to my friend, Daphne. Are you going to help me or are you just going to stand there like the prick we both know you are?"

Malfoy looked positively livid.

"Merlin, would you stop looking like someone poured rotten milk down your mouth!" Harry shouted. "Honestly, I'm about done with your feeling sorry for yourself! So you did some shitty things... We all did. Lift your head, open your damn eyes, and see!" For a moment, it felt like he was talking to Hermione.

Malfoy's eyes narrowed.

"Oh, I see... you're jealous." Harry let out a bitter laugh. Wow, this was a destructive path he was on. "Oh, it burns you that I'm friends with her, doesn't it? But that's all we are, I swear. Daphne's in love with you, you idiot! Now, can you please do us both a favour and go and get her so I can get out of here before I end up unleashing magic unimaginable on this damned Castle?"

Malfoy just stared at him, clearly stunned.

Harry, once again, was forced to clamp his mouth shut. He'd gone and done it again. He'd said too much. Daphne was going to kill him; she was going to straight up murder him.

Voldemort had nothing on a Slytherin scorn.

Just then, the dungeon's doors opened and a Slytherin that Harry didn't recognise stepped out. While the door was open, Harry screamed.

"Daphne! Daphne! Daphne!"

There was silence for an indeterminable amount of time, before the one and only Daphne Greengrass stepped out of the dungeons, looking a mixture of perplexed, irritated and somewhat excited to see him. She was clearly in her pyjamas already, wrapped up in a dressing gown.

"Merlin, Potter, are you trying to wake up the whole of Slytherin?"

"We need to talk," he said calmly.

"About what?" she asked, and then gasped when she noticed Malfoy standing to her left. "Oh, Draco, umm, what are you doing out here?"

"About that," Harry said sheepishly, running a hand through his hair.

Daphne looked between the two boys, her eyes widening. "What? What?"

"We need to talk," Harry said again. "I did something stupid." He stepped towards her. "Walk with me?"

She hesitated.

"Daphne. Now."

She took an involuntary step towards him. "Okay."

Harry put out his arm, and the two of them took off down the corridor, leaving Malfoy behind, still looking stunned.

As soon as they were out of earshot, she grabbed onto his sleeve tightly. "What did you do? What did you say to him?"

"Well," he said; "I may or may not have revealed to him that you're in love with him."

"What?" she squeaked, coming to a stop. "Why would you do that? What would make you do that?"

"I'm sorry," he said first. "Things happened."

"What things?"

"Where's your tie?" he asked pointedly.

"What?"

"Your tie, Daphne; where's your tie?"

She automatically reached for her collar but she was no longer wearing a tie. "Umm." Then she spied his tie. "Shit."

"Hermione was waiting for me in the common room and we kind of had a fight." His voice cracked. "I said things. I said a lot of things."

"Apparently that's all you're good at right now," she muttered, then sighed. "Did you tell her that you loved her?"

He shook his head. "I didn't want to tell her like that," he said, though it felt like a lie. "This makes me sound horrible, but I also didn't want to give her the satisfaction."

"The satisfaction?"

He ran a hand through his hair again, trying to find the words. "Like, my love is a gift, you know? To be given to someone who deserves it, and I just didn't want to give it to her in that moment. Does that make sense?"

Daphne regarded him for a moment.

"Am I being spiteful?"

"You're hurt, Harry," she said gently. "You're allowed to be hurt."

He took a deep breath. "What are you going to do about Malfoy?"

She let out a bark of laughter. "Did you see his face?"

"He was definitely shocked," Harry said softly. "I'm sorry, again. He was just being a prick, and acting jealous, and it all just came out."

She blinked. "Was he really jealous?"

He nodded, waited a beat and then: "You're being awfully calm about this?"

"Oh, I've killed you about a million times in my head," she said, offering him a small smile. "I suppose I'm not that mad though. I planned on telling him myself, right? Apparently tonight hasn't been a good night for Harry Potter."

He nodded thoughtfully. "I also may have told Hermione that I'm not coming back to Hogwarts after Christmas Break."

Her eyes snapped towards him. "What?"

He couldn't help his embarrassment. "I told you that I said things."

"Okay, now I think you're being spiteful."

He buried his face in hands. "When did life get so complicated?" he asked, groaning against his hands. "I mean, at least with Voldemort, it was simple. Try not to die. I could handle that."

Daphne stepped towards him. "I don't care what you said; you have to come back. I won't survive this place without you."

"But you'll have Malfoy."

"That's provided he isn't coming up with some way to let me down gently right now."

"He's not."

She frowned. "How do you know?"

"I just know."

She eyed him skeptically. "Well, if you say so," she said sarcastically. "So, what are you going to do now?"

He took a moment to think about it. "Well, I have to finish packing, and then I'm going to go to sleep."

"And then?"

"I don't know," he admitted. "There are things I plan to do this Break, and I don't know how long it's all going to take."

"But you'll come back?" she asked, annoyed at how small her voice sounded. "I mean, you have to come back. You love Ancient Runes too much to just give up on it."

"I don't know if you know this about me, Daphne, but I'm not really a fan of school."

"You're just a fan of Hermione."

He nodded sadly.

She groaned. "Fine," she said, sighing. "But you'll write, won't you? I mean, the voyeur in you will be curious how I manage to salvage something with Draco."

"Oh, I'm so very concerned with his happiness," he muttered.

"You're concerned with mine," she said, slipping an arm around his waist and turning them both so they could start on their way back to the dungeons.

"That I am. I want you to be happy, Daphne Greengrass."

"As I you, Harry Potter," she said melodically. "Even if it's with Granger."

"It is," he admitted. "That hasn't changed."

"Then you'll have to find some way to forgive her for being a royal idiot. Somehow, you're going to have to stop feeling hurt."

"I know," he said. "I'll try."

"She'll come to her senses. You'll see."

"How can you be so sure?" he felt like he had to ask.

"How can you be so sure about Draco?" she countered, and no more words were exchanged.

That night, Hermione went to his room. She wasn't sure he would allow her into his bed, and she was surprised when he opened the covers for her once she made her presence known.

As she climbed in beside him, she was made aware of several things: Harry did not open his arms for her, nor did he draw her in to press against his chest. In fact, he turned away from her, presenting her with only his back.

Hermione had to admit that it stung but she wasn't going to force him to hold her. After their last conversation, she shouldn't have been surprised. She lay on her side, her front facing his back, though they were not touching.

She felt like she had to say something, anything. She couldn't let him leave and have that conversation be the last thing spoken between the two of them. She had to give him a reason to come back.

Hermione drew her hands up to rest in front of her. She closed them into fists and pressed them gently against Harry's back. If he felt it, he said nothing. Then, closing her eyes, she rested her forehead against his back as well, at the spot between his shoulder blades. It was all she would allow.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, unable to tell if he was awake or not. His laboured breathing wasn't giving anything away. "I'm sorry, Harry."

Hermione fought the emotion threatening to consume her. No. She was not going to cry!

"I do need you," she admitted softly. "I've never not needed you. I'm just preparing myself for the day that I'm no longer allowed to."

That did it. She started to cry. Harry had to be asleep because there was no way he could ignore this. Even in this state, he couldn't ignore the intensity of her tears.

Harry Potter did not move.

"I'm sorry," Hermione breathed, one last time, and then she let sleep claim her.

Hermione woke up alone. The curtains were drawn around her, shielding her from whatever was outside. She didn't want to get up. Removing herself from the warmth of his bed or the pleasant smell of his sheets just didn't seem appealing at all. But she had to see him before he left.

Gathering her strength, she heaved the heavy blanket off of her, to be hit with the painful cold. Did the boy leave a window open or something?

Hermione shivered as she dropped her feet to the ground and reached for her wand. A well-practiced Heating Charm later and she was on her way.

It was surprising, really, how quiet the Tower actually was. Was everyone down at breakfast already? Why hadn't Harry woken her?

Hermione took pause in the Gryffindor common room, more because she had a pestering feeling that something just wasn't right.

A quick look at the clock confirmed her suspicions. She felt her heart drop right down to her stomach. No. She couldn't have slept for so long. It was impossible.

It was ten after eleven in the morning, and Hermione was quite certain that she was the last remaining Gryffindor in the Tower.

She started to shake. What on earth had possessed her to think this was a good idea?

"Harry," she automatically said, her voice barely audible over the bustling wind just outside the window.

In a moment of sheer panic, Hermione ran up to the girls' seventh year dorm and, indeed, it was empty. Ginny was gone and so was her trunk. Hermione didn't stop there. She ran to the boys' seventh year dorm to find it equally empty. Neville was gone.

And finally, in Harry's room, the trunk was gone. So was Thaddeus' cage - as if that bird even needed one. Everything about the room suddenly felt impersonal, as if there hadn't been a human being living in here for the past several months.

Hermione was alone.

The feeling only crept up on her when she discovered Harry to be gone. He was gone. Would he ever come back?

Before she started to cry, Hermione launched herself into Harry's bed and buried her face in his pillows. It took great effort to cover herself with the heavy blanket once more. And that's the moment she saw it.

It fluttered to the floor, as if it had been trapped by the blanket. Hermione reached over the side of the bed to retrieve the small piece of parchment. It was type-written. When wasn't it, these days?

All I want is for you to be happy. It's all I've ever wanted; all I've ever needed.

You are still my person, even if I'm no longer yours.

Merry Christmas, Hermione, and always remember that you are loved.

You are so very loved.

And that was the moment that Hermione knew.

She just knew.

End Of Part Two

AN: This chapter contains the scene that I envisioned from the very beginning of the story (Hermione's fists against Harry's back), so... yay. Though, I'll be the first to admit things went quite awry to get here. I promise that Part Three will fix everything.