100,000 Hits! I'm so excited! I'm also using the Summer Coven for my NaNoWriMo this year. Hopefully something might actually come of this years version. I'm still not pleased with what I came out with last year. The end is alright but the beginning is slow. Slow and boring. *Sigh* Anyway.

So expect very little by way of updates in November. However, I will attempt to give you at least one more chapter before the end of this month.

I don't remember whether or not Harry has learned to apparate yet. I'm going to assume he did. So if it wasn't mentioned, pretend it happened in one of his extra lessons.

Last Chapter…

Pansy snorted. "Harry, I would hardly call a bit of gentle ribbing rude. Bayard is from an old family. Nowhere near as old as yours, but around the same age as mine. Maybe a little older. His family came over before the Norman Conquest in 1066. He's Saxon of origin, just like mine is. It's likely that they took part in one of the invasions that prompted Rome to withdraw from the British Isles."

Harry gave her an odd look. Draco sighed gustily. "Hal, you need to know these things. Believe me, you'll need to know these things. And besides that, my father loves pureblood history."

Harry groaned, completely distracted from his annoyance by the prospect of learning so much pureblood history. From across the room, Hermione glanced over at the table and caught Pansy's eye. The Slytherin winked. Hermione smiled and turned back to the story that Bayard was telling her about fox hunting in the English countryside with the Minister for Magic and several high-ranking officials. She smiled at him and made the appropriate responses, wondering inwardly whether this was such a good plan after all.

Chapter 49 – Of Realizations

The remainder of the week passed quickly. The rescheduled end of the Quidditch try-outs yielded two excellent chasers and one acceptable one, though little else. The group spoke to Dumbledore about Katie Bell and she was subsequently moved into the new wing, which, since Harry's verbal slip, everyone had taken to calling Misfit Central. Hermione spent much of her time at the Hufflepuff table with Bayard Dunstan, leaving Harry in a foul mood. Pansy found this amusing. Her amusement would have tipped into annoyance, but Harry's temper was translating well for her sex life, so she didn't complain.

McGonagall had thought it was a fascinating occurrence when Harry stopped into her classroom to have her run a animagus check on him. "Really, Potter, I've not seen this type of thing before though it is not completely unheard of, I think. Let's check your forms first."

Drawing her wand, she muttered several incantations. When she had finished, she stepped back and pursed her lips. "Well, Mr. Potter, it seems that Ariadne was indeed correct. Your magic seems to have forced a new form on you. From what I can gather, the phoenix form has not settled yet and thus the transformation will no doubt be painful for the next several times you try it. You do need to change at least three more times for the form to settle. Speak to Severus about getting a pain-potion for it. I'm sure he will be willing to supply one."

Harry nodded, with a grimace. "Thank you, ma'am."

"Hm. You also have your two original or perhaps I should say natural forms. One is distinctly feline. A large cat. I cannot determine what sort. A panther, perhaps, or a leopard. Certainly something of a dark color. And the natural magic form was a Kelpie."

Harry's brow furrowed in confusion. "Professor?"

McGonagall sighed. "Hagrid's…education needs supplementation. With creatures that can't kill the students. A Kelpie, Potter, is a water horse. They have green seal's skin and black manes and tails. Out of the sea, they drip water continuously. They also have the eyes of a fish."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "So I can turn into a cat and a wet horse? Lovely."

The transfiguration teacher's mouth compressed into a thin line. "Mr. Potter, the feline is the fastest non-magical land animal on the planet and Kelpies can be very useful. You are blessed with rare and powerful forms. Do not scoff. You could have turned into a Kneazle or a Glumbumble. How useful would either of those forms have been to you?"

Harry had nodded and left immediately. He searched the castle and finally found Hermione sitting outside, near the fountain in the courtyard, with Dunstan.

Harry had nearly growled. He took a deep breath. "Hermione, can I have a word for a minute?"

Bayard had sneered at him. "What? Slytherin sex not enough for you then? Have to go after other people's girlfriends now, do you?"

Harry stiffened and turned sharply to the Hufflepuff. He opened his mouth to reply, but Hermione laid a hand on his arm. "Harry, please don't." He looked at her for a moment, then deflated. He nodded tightly and moved several yards away. Hermione turned back to Bayard. "That was horrible of you! Why would you say something like that to him?"

Bayard sneered again. "Because the up-start needs to realize his place. If that blood-traitor Malfoy isn't going to put him there, then someone has to."

Hermione gaped at him. "Blood-traitor? Draco? Are you joking? He's a blood traitor because he's hanging around with a half-blood? I suppose then Pansy is too for fucking one?"

He nodded. "Of course."

Hermione was staring at him incredulously. "Are you completely mental, Bayard? I'm a muggleborn. What does that make you?"

The Hufflepuff pureblood looked appalled. He stared at her with wide eyes. "You're a Mudblood? Are you joking? A Mudblood?"

Hermione's eyes filled with tears. "Everyone in this school knows that I'm a muggleborn."

Harry looked up from his contemplation of the flagstones as he waited for Hermione, when he thought he'd heard that word. He found Hermione crying and the little shit gaping at her in horror. He stalked forward. Boyfriend or no, this was not to be borne. "Did you just call her what I think you just called her?"

Dunstan turned his gaze on Harry and it morphed into anger. "You never said that your little plaything was a mudblood! No wonder you turned to that pug-faced bitch. At least she's of the right sort, even if she is consorting with the likes of you."

Harry's jaw dropped. Hermione threw herself at him and hide her tears in his shoulder. His nostril's flared and his eyes blazed. "You dare speak of her like that? You dare speak to me like that? You have no concept of what it is you are doing. My mother was an Evans. Do you know what that means? Have you learned your pureblood history?"

Bayard's eyes narrowed. "What are you on about? Everyone knows that your mother was a mudblood whore."

Harry's anger suddenly went cold. He laughed. "You ignorant fool. My mother's ancestors were practicing magic when your ancestors were still rubbing sticks together to make fire. My family wrote the history of magic in these isles, so tread carefully, friend. Tread. Very. Carefully." Harry's eyes narrowed. "I better never hear you use that word in relation to Hermione or anyone else within my hearing ever again. And you never know when I might be listening."

He turned from the stunned Hufflepuff, pulling a still weeping Hermione with him. She let him lead her back to Misfit Central, thinking how horribly wrong Pansy's scheme had gone. She finally looked up, when Harry pushed her gently into a seat, to find herself sitting on Harry's bed. He knelt in front of her and brushed a strand of hair out of her eyes. She met his eyes, fighting back fresh tears. He smiled sadly and wiped away the tears with his thumb, cupping the side of her face.

"Harry," her voice was hushed and fragile. Harry wondered at the vulnerability there. "Will it always be this way? Somehow when Malfoy said it…it wasn't so bad, because I expected as much from him, but Bayard…I…"

Harry shook his head. "No, Hermione. It will not always be like this. It won't. I won't let it. Someday, the whole world will see what an amazing witch you are. It doesn't matter who your parents are. I mean, look at me. My father's a greasy bastard, right?" Hermione offered him a small smile. "Hermione, I'm not joking. One of these days, everyone will understand how powerful a witch you are. Not just because you read so much and know a fuckton more then any of the rest of us, but simply in raw power. You are a truly awe-inspiring witch and a wonderful woman."

Hermione's smile turned sad and it was her turn to cup his face. He'd dropped his hands to her knees as he spoke so earnestly. Now, they tightened their grip. "Oh, Harry."

He frowned at her. "What? Hermione, tell me."

She looked away for a moment. "Harry, I…" She took a breath. "No. It's nothing. Thank you."

His frown deepened. "Hermione, I'm not saying anything that isn't true. It is true. You—"

"No, Harry. I know you believe what you're saying. That's what makes this so hard." She looked back at him. He was closer now, having gone up on both knees in an attempt to catch her eye.

He blinked, staring into her eyes for a moment before his gaze dropped to where she'd bitten her lip. He flicked his gaze back up to her eyes for a moment as if in permission and then they dropped again. The two moved inexorably toward one another, when a knock sounded at the door. Harry jerked back, settling on his haunches again. "Come."

Draco opened the door, cautiously shielding his eyes. "Is it safe? No one's naked, right?"

Harry raised an eyebrow and smirked at Hermione, who was looking a bit lost. "Yes, actually, Dray. We're both naked."

Draco shuddered and didn't remove the hand shielding his eyes. "Honestly! It's the middle of the afternoon, Hal, and I'm pretty sure Pansy's supposed to be in classes right now."

Hermione's eyes bugged. "Oh Merlin! Classes! Break's over, isn't it?"

Draco gasped loudly and his eyes snapped open. Finding both of them fully clothed, he glared at Harry. "You liar. Wait, why aren't you in class? Which is what I came in for."

Harry groaned as Hermione jumped up and disappeared through the door, pushing past Draco. Harry flopped onto the floor and propped his feet against the bed. "Draco, I think I may have just pulled rank on a pureblood."

Draco blanched. "You…Tell me."

Harry explained what happened with Dunstan. Draco dropped down onto the floor next to Harry and mimicked his position. Crossing his arms behind his head, he looked up at the ceiling. "I see."

Harry glanced over at him. "Do you? I'm glad someone does."

Draco snorted. "Harry, you need to be more careful with what you say. You never cared about blood purity before, so why now?"

Harry sighed. "I don't care about blood purity. I don't know what made me say those things. But I was not about to let that little…bastard insult my mother. You know that always sends me over the edge. I know you know that." He gave Draco a pointed looked. Draco smirked. Harry looked back at the ceiling. "And he…he called Hermione that horrible word. I will absolutely not let anyone get away with calling her a mudblood. It's a horrible thing to say anyway. But to call Hermione that, when she's obviously the most powerful witch at this school, beside Ariadne…"

Draco narrowed his eyes and examined Harry carefully for moment. "Putting aside the danger you may have put yourself in by hinting at your true heritage to Dunstan, who will no doubt check with his parents about it. Harry, tell me, what is Granger to you?"

Harry huffed. "Her name is Hermione. She's my best friend. Draco, you know that."

Draco continued to examine Harry's reaction. "No, Harry, I don't know. I think perhaps she's more than that. I think…I think you may be in love with her."

Harry shut his eyes. "I'm not in love with Hermione Granger, Draco." In his mind, he was replaying the almost kiss that would have been the shattering of his promise to Pansy, all the moments over the summer that they'd shared, the look on her face when he'd first woken up in the hospital wing. "I…I…"

Draco smirked. "Alright, tell me, who matters most to you?"

Harry turned his head and looked at the blonde. "What?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Say Voldemort kidnapped everyone. The Coven, Severus, The Misfits, the Weasleys, Black, Lupin, just everyone. He takes everyone and you have to pick one person you can save. Only one. Who would it be?"

Harry gaped at Draco. His mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. "But that…that's appalling, Malfoy. That's just…"

Draco sighed. "Seriously. Harry, pick. Who would it be?"

Harry just looked at him blankly for several long minutes. His eyes were glassy as if he were seeing beyond the Slytherin, instead of looking at him. "Like in the second task of the Tri-Wizard. I wanted to take Hermione. She wasn't my hostage, but I wanted to save her anyway. I couldn't live with myself if I had to make that choice, but…it…Oh gods. I couldn't…"

Draco smiled. "It would be Hermione. Of all of us, you'd saved her first, always. Before your father, before your godfather, before your girlfriend, before anyone, you'd pick her."

Harry looked at him in horror. "Oh my gods, I need to speak to Pansy."

Draco's smile widened. "It's fine, Potter. Really, she's just waiting for it. She didn't break up with you because she said the sex was too good, but she's been waiting for you to realize."

Harry stared for a few more minutes, as though he hadn't heard Draco at all, then stood. "What about Hermione? I mean…what if she…I can't…"

Draco climbed to his feet, snorting softly. "Honestly, Harry, you are incredibly dense sometimes. Granger's been in love with you forever. She only went with that Hufflepuff dick in a misguided, read Pansy-guided, effort to make you jealous enough to realize that you were interested."

Harry shook his head and snagged his school bag from the floor. Not acknowledging Draco's words or presence, he left the room. Draco huffed loudly, but let him go. The trek to Isoko's classroom too longer then he thought it would, torn between wanting to speak with Hermione immediately and terror that he needed to speak to her at all.

With a sigh, he knocked on the classroom door. The door swung open and he stepped in, training an apologetic eye on Isoko. "Professor, I'm sorry that I'm late. There was a…bit of an incident in the courtyard."

Isoko narrowed her eyes. "Anything I should be concerned about?"

Harry shook his head. "No, it won't happen again. I can guarantee it." He scanned the room, but Dunstan wasn't in this class, thankfully. Harry wasn't sure what he would have done if the other was, but he would have landed in detention for at least a week for it.

Isoko nodded and waved him to his seat next to Pansy. He slumped down into it and glanced sideways at his girlfriend. Pulling out his parchment and quill, he leaned over on the pretense of borrowing some ink. "Pansy, I think we need to talk."

Pansy looked sharply at him. Examining him for a moment, she finally smiled. "You're breaking up with me."

It wasn't a question and Harry for a moment heard Draco speaking in his ear. Maybe the Slytherin had been right. He kept his voice low and watched Isoko out of the corner of his eye, but she didn't seem to notice. Or, more likely, she was ignoring them. "Pansy, I—"

The raven-haired girl shook her head. "No, Harry, really. It's fine. You're not even close to being in love with me. I get it. I've always got it, but really? You're a great shag, so I waited for you to break things off. Have you told Hermione yet?"

Harry frowned and shook his head. "Pans, a little owl told me that you've been scheming…"

Pansy scowled. "Draco's going to regret that."

Harry chuckled. "I didn't say it was him."

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Of course, you didn't. You're a Gryffindor. You wouldn't go stoolie on him."

Harry raised an eyebrow and finally turned to the lesson. He didn't actually get a chance to speak to Hermione that day or the next. She stopped showing up to meals and always locked her bedroom door. By Saturday, Harry was at his wits end. It was their first official Hogsmede weekend and Hermione had vanished from the castle at the first possible opportunity. He'd even checked the map for her, but she wasn't anywhere. It was half an hour until he left with Olympia for France and he still hadn't seen Hermione. He was in his bedroom with Draco as the blonde checked his attire over.

"Draco, look, I don't give a fuck what I'm wearing. I can't find Hermione anywhere and I need to talk to her before I leave!" He batted at Draco's hand, which were straightening his collar.

He was wearing his black slacks and black dress shirt under open deep emerald robes that Ariadne had picked out for him. His hair was still a mess, but Draco told him that it didn't make a difference, he still looked the part of a pureblood. His basilisk-hide boots clicked against the hardwood flooring as he began to pace.

"Dray, what if everything goes pear-shaped today? What if Dupont isn't what he claims and what if something happens?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "Potter, calm down. You know the Dark Lord is the only one who can kill you, so really you have nothing to worry about unless…well, you won't be captured so everything will be fine." The worry that had surfaced in his grey eyes belied his words.

Harry shot him a look. "I didn't mean with me, you idiot. I mean, this Hogsmede trip. I have a bad feeling about this weekend. Something…I don't know. I just have a bad feeling, is all. Please, can you get the others and go find Hermione for me? Tell her that I'm worried? That…I don't know, just please?"

Draco nodded, concern creasing his forehead. "Are you really that worried about it?" Harry nodded. "Fine, I'll get the girls to go looking for Hermione and I'll stop in and tell Severus and Ariadne that you've…got a feeling, I suppose."

Harry sighed. "Thank you." As he passed out of the room, he placed a hand on Draco's shoulder and met his eyes briefly. Then he was gone.

Draco blew out a breath and frowned. He was beginning to have a bad feeling about this weekend too. Something was not right.

In the common area, Harry was standing next to Olympia staring at their portkey. She was holding a magazine in her hand. A copy of EW from the start of school, which, if he thought about it, wasn't that long ago. Gods, there was too much going on. "That's our portkey?" She nodded, smiling. "That thing has me on it and it's our portkey? Please tell me you're joking."

She shook her head and glanced at her watch. "And if you want to come to France with me then you'd better grab hold. We're going in…five…four…" Harry grabbed onto it. "Two…one."

They vanished, just as Draco appeared at the top of the stairs.

Central France looked vaguely similar to southern England, Harry thought absently as he surveyed their surrounding. Worry for Hermione was still hovering in the back of his mind, but he pushed it aside to focus on the task at hand. He was here to acquire a spy, if possible, and, if not, to help a Death Eater defect.

They were standing on the edge of a clearing in a wood. The area seemed deserted and the only sounds Harry heard were of the forest. He looked up to see the sun blaring and a large bird wheeling in the sky, no doubt looking for its next meal. Harry paused and examined the bird. "Olympia, are we sure that's a bird?"

Olympia followed his gaze and squinted. She raised her wand and muttered something. "Yes, it's a falcon actually. Not an animagus, but that was a good thought."

She cast a charm over the entire area, checking for things out of place, but found nothing. Harry nodded and offered her a half-smile. They waited. A moment passed before a loud crack split the air. Harry jerked his head up and stepped forward. The same young Frenchmen he'd seen in his vision now stood across the clearing from him. The soft, gentle lines of his face were somehow at odds with the sharpness of his unusual violet eyes. It was in that moment that Harry realized that Voldemort could not see the whole color spectrum. He was missing pieces of it, because he did not see that this man had purple eyes.

Harry blinked at his discovery and shook his head. "Marcel Dupont. Well met."

The young man stepped forward, but froze when he spotted Olympia. "'O is zat?"

His voice was more accented then Harry remembered. "You did not honestly think I would come here alone, did you? To meet a Death Eater?"

The other flinched. Olympia said nothing. Dupont moved forward again, his hand outstretched. "'Arry Potter. The Boy-'O-Lived."

Harry eyed his hand warily for a moment. Olympia ran a silent check on him and muttered. "Safe."

Harry smiled hesitantly and took the man's hand. They shook. "Thank you for meeting with me 'ere. I know it eez not safe in your 'ome country."

Harry nodded. "No, it isn't. What is it you wanted to see me for?"

Dupont looked around nervously. "Ah…Mon Seigneur Potter, you know already that I am… le mangemort…a Death Eater. I need your 'elp."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Yes, I imagine you do. It seems to me that you've attracted too much of Voldemort's attention by being able to endure the Cruciatus. He also thinks you're pretty."

Dupont blanched. "I…'Ow do you know zis?"

Harry's lips twisted into a disgusted sneer. "I'm the Boy-Who-Lived, remember? The Chosen One. I know a great deal about the Dark Lord."

Dupont frowned deeply. "No one calls 'im Le Seigneur Sombre, unless they are one of 'is Les Mangemorts." He took a step back. "Eez zis un piège?"

The more frightened he became the thicker his accent became. Harry was having a little difficult with all the French that man was peppering his speech with, but he got the general idea. "Mr. Dupont, I am who I claim to be. I am Harry Potter. There is no danger for you here. This is not…"

Olympia leaned forward. "Un piège. Harry, he asked if this was a trap."

Harry nodded. "This is no trap. I am simply offering you a choice. The way I see, it you have three options." Dupont seemed to calm at the translation exchange. His eyes stopped flicking around the clearing and came back to rest on Harry. "One, you can remain where you are, a Death Eater in truth. Two, you can remain where you are as a spy, a Death Eater in name only. Or three, I can get you out and you can return with me to Hogwarts. It is also my intention, today, to go to the Delacour Estate and bring Fleur and her family back with me. If you choose to leave the service of Voldemort, then we can warn your family or bring them with us also."

Olympia have him a sharp look, but did not comment. She was not there to make comments, only to observe and protect. It was amazing how easily she slipped back into old habits and how well she remembered her training with very little prompting.

Dupont stared at Harry for several minutes. "It eez more…commode for you if I stay where I am."

Harry frowned at the unknown word, but got the gist of the statement. "Yes, it is. However, I honestly wouldn't do that, if I were you. Voldemort is just a little bit too interested in you for me to be comfortable leaving you there, unless you are completely willing to take that risk."

Dupont looked relieved. "I want out."

Harry nodded. "Fair enough, Dupont. Should we stop and pick up your family as well?

The young man smiled for the first time, and Harry could see why Voldemort would be so intrigued by him. "Call me Marcel, s'il vous plait, Seigneur Potter."

Harry returned his smile. "I'm Harry. Just Harry. Come on, we have a lot to do and I'm anxious to get back to Hogwarts."

"Oui, s'il vous plait, I would be very grateful if we could get my famille."

Harry smirked. "Since you're coming to stay at the castle, I would ask you a favor."

Marcel's eye narrowed but he nodded. "It eez only fair. Que would you ask?"

"I want you to help me train. I will kill Voldemort. Hopefully sooner rather then later, but I need help training for it. You are able to endure a very powerful Crucio. Believe me, I know how bad it is. I've taken one or two from him myself. I want to be able to do what you do."

Marcel's eyes widened. "You would ask me pour vous maudire? Vous me fiez? Pourquoi?"

Harry looked confused, so Olympia once again translated. "He's asking you why you trust him enough to let him curse you like that."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Well, I need to learn and it's not like we would be alone, so you wouldn't have any chance to kill me or whatever anyway. And honestly? I've never come across anyone with a stronger Crucio then Voldemort so it really can't be any worse then what I've already suffered."

Marcel stared at him for a moment, then he blurted, "Ze battle. I know que c'était zat ze Dark Lord was after in 'Ogsmede."

Harry stilled. "What was he after?"

"Le artifact. 'E wanted a book or…journal of some kind, but ze owner would not sell it to 'im. Zat is why he went after zat curio shop. Ze book 'ad belonged to 'im long ago."

Harry chewed his lip for a moment, then nodded. "Ok, good. Alright. I need to go to Hogsmede then. To see a man about a book." He shook himself. "For now, we need to go gather people."

Olympia laid a hand on Harry's arm. "Harry, why don't you go back to Hogsmede. I know you're worried about Hermione anyway and maybe your bad feeling has something to do with the Dark Lord and that book. I can go with Monsieur Dupont and get his family. I will come back with you tomorrow to get Fleur and her family. How does that sound?"

Harry smiled in relief. "Thanks, Oly. You're the best! I'll see you back at the castle."

With that and a small pop, Harry vanished. Olympia stared open-mouthed at the place where he'd vanished. "He is absolutely not supposed to be able to apparate that far…Across the damn channel!" She threw her hands up. "Severus and Ariadne are going to kill me, if he's splinched himself."

Marcel smiled. "I zink zat 'Arry is probably fine."

Olympia eyed him for a moment. "You and I are going to work on your English when you get back to Hogwarts. Come on. We need to go round up more strays."

Harry had indeed arrived in Hogsmede completely whole. He'd popped in at the Shrieking Shack and froze immediately. There were screams, shouting, and loud crashes coming from the village. With a deep breath, Harry took off running in the direction of the curio shop the Death Eaters attacked before. Somewhat to his relief, he only spotted one Death Eater this time, no one he recognized. The woman was dueling with…Hermione! "No!" Harry screamed as a beam of green light erupted from the woman's wand. Harry quickly twisted his own wand, which he hadn't realized was even in his hand, and Hermione was blasted off her feet. She skidded sideways along the street and the Killing curse smashed into the side of the building, leaving a smoking hole. The woman snarled and turned to Harry.

When she spotted her target, her eyes widened and fear seeped into her gaze. Harry was furious. "How dare you try and hurt her, you fucking bitch! I'll kill you for that!"

He brought his wand up and they began to duel. As the spells flashed faster and faster, Harry edged his way toward the still-unmoving form of his best friend. His worry was spiking now and he was having trouble concentrating on the duel. His attention was brought forcibly back, however, when the woman managed to graze his side with a cutting curse. He hissed in pain and his eyes snapped back to her. "Bitch. You're going to regret that." He snapped his wand back into its holster and the woman's eyes bugged. A fistful of black fire appeared in his hand. She vanished with a pop. He sneered at the place where she'd been and immediately turned back to Hermione's prone form. He dropped to his knees next to her, a horrible sinking déjà vu settling into his bones. Pulling her onto his lap, against his chest, he felt with his free hand for injuries, but found none. Finally, as he was checking her scalp for blood, she groaned and her eyes fluttered open. "Harry?"

He choked on his relief. "Oh my gods, Hermione." He hugged her to him tightly and she slipped her arms around his neck. "Thank Merlin you're alright, I thought I'd killed you."

She shook her head against his neck. "You could never, Harry." She tightened her arms and he hissed again. She pulled back. "Are you hurt?"

He shrugged a little. "The bitch got me with a cutting hex. Just a flesh wound. Nothing to worry about. But it stings." He waved off her concern and they stood. She swayed on her feet and he pulled her into another hug. "Hermione, I thought I'd lost you. I thought…I'm so sorry, for everything. For not realizing earlier how much you meant to me, for letting you hide this week, for not telling you immediately, for—"

"Harry, what are you talking about?" She frowned up at him.

"Hermione, I love you. I wasn't sure about it until I saw you lying there, not moving. You were still, so still. And I thought…The idea of never seeing you again. Never hearing you laugh or watching your eyes light up when you find a problem worth solving. I just…I couldn't bear that. I couldn't. I love you."

Her eyes filled with tears. "Harry, you're with Pansy. I'm not—"

"I broke things off with Pansy the day that that Hufflepuff dick insulted you. I realized then, with a little help from Draco, how important you were to me."

She gaped at him for a moment before flinging her arms around his neck. The kiss was everything Harry had ever imagine it would be and more (not that he had consciously realized he'd been imagining kissing her until that moment). He was about to deepen it, when Hermione's hand grazed his side and he flinched noticeably. She pulled back again and looked down at her hand, which was sticky and covered in blood. She gasped and stepped away from him, staring in horror at her hand. Harry swayed and almost fell, before she snapped out of her haze and caught him. She scowled. "No more kissing for you until we get you healed. You're bleeding, Harry."

He nodded groggily. His vision was beginning to fade as the adrenaline left his system. He blinked several times, as Hermione's worried face blurred and darkened. "I think…" He muttered. "I think…I need…to see…Pomfrey."

There was a loud pop to his left and a voice was talking, but he couldn't identify it. He didn't have the strength to turn and look. The curse must have been stronger then he'd thought for him to be loosing this much blood, he thought, before he stumbled out of Hermione's light grasp and dropped like a stone.

Little bit of a cliffy here. Don't worry. I'll post the next chapter before NaNoWriMo and Halloween (Samhain) begin! I promise. Please review! They keep me going