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TW: illness/hospital


Hermione woke up slowly.

The first thing she noticed was a hard arm banded over her waist, tucking her against a firm chest that was keeping her warm in the chill of the workroom.

It was quiet except for the sound of shuffling papers. The light in the room was not bright, but it was enough to make her squint as she peeked open her eyes.

The chest under her cheek shifted and she tilted her head to watch Harry flick his wand, sorting through reports that were floating above them.

"How long was I out? What happened to the box?" Her voice was rough with sleep. She could still feel the ache in her head. As she shifted she felt the twinge of a dull ache over her ribs. There was going to be a spectacular bruise across her torso tomorrow.

"You've been asleep for a few hours. It's about 3pm. The ward on the box is broken, but the ritual didn't open the box." Harry's voice was subdued and waved his wand, sending the reports he was reviewing to a table so he could concentrate on her.

Nodding and covering her jaw cracking yawn behind one hand Hermione made to sit up. Harry helped maneuver her into a sitting position, still reclined against his chest. In a flash she realized that she was touching him practically from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. It made her flush what she was sure was an obvious red.

Instead of dwelling on how much of Harry's body she could feel through the thin barrier of their clothes, she instead tried to take stock of the room now visible from her new position. She was still in the workroom. Malfoy and Quince were hunched over documents that were stamped with an insignia that Hermione recognized as belonging to the Earl of Kay, the Longbottom family.

Looking to the other side of the room, there was an unoccupied Goblin-sized cot. More surprisingly Narcissa Malfoy was sitting at the workstation that was normally Hermione's taking tea out of a china set that looked like it had cost more than she paid for a years worth of rent.

Lady Malfoy noticed Hermione was awake and stood gracefully. She swept over to the pair of them. .

"Good, you're awake." Lady Malfoy's voice was crisp and no nonsense.

"Thank you for your care Lady Malfoy, I appreciate it." Hermione said, meeting the woman's eyes confidently despite her slightly embarrassing position in Harry's arms. "If I may ask, where is Nagnok?"

Narcissa Malfoy regarded Hermione with an assessing gaze. "He returned to the Goblin Realm directly after the ward breaking. He only sustained minor injuries and is recuperating there.

"Thank you," said Hermione, mustering up more of that Gryffindor bravado she forgot she had.

She remembered what she had heard about Lady Malfoy, mostly from snippets she had overheard from gossiping Slytherins in the library. Slytherins were never as surreptitious as they thought they were, and so she had caught a fair amount of gossip by just being quiet and not bringing attention to herself.

She had heard that Lady Malfoy was the ultimate Pureblood ice queen, consummate host, political genius, and absolutely ruthless.

Hermione had once overheard a conversation that Pansy Parkinson had with Daphne Greengrass in the library during 6th year. Parkinson had still been trying to woo Malfoy, and Greengrass had been lending a sympathetic ear. Parkinson had been so legitimately afraid of having tea with Lady Malfoy that she had begun crying.

"You're quite welcome Miss Granger. I believe you have plans to go to St. Mungo's and conduct the same ritual? You won't be able to do it today. I suspect you'll need a pepper-up potion in order to get you home. You'll probably be able to do the ritual again tomorrow." Dangling between delicate fingers was a vial of pepper up that Hermione took gratefully.

Lady Malfoy gave a satisfied nod, and watched as Hermione downed the potion with a careful eye. That keen gaze then refocused on Harry.

"Harry, I expect you will accompany Miss Granger to St. Mungo's when she goes."

Hermione opened her mouth to object, to insist that Harry had better things to do other than babysit her. But Harry was nodding before Lady Malfoy finished her sentence, and his quelling look at her made her snap her mouth closed. Obviously arguing with him would not be fruitful.

She was quickly learning that he was just as stubborn as she was. Plus, it had been a command from Lady Malfoy. She didn't think that she would be able to ignore such a command either.

Lady Malfoy gave them both a sharp nod and strode gracefully from the workroom. Hermione let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. That was the most intimidating woman she had even been in the presence of.

Quince, who had been hovering nearby, obviously eavesdropping on their conversation with Lady Malfoy rushed to fill the void left by the regal woman.

"Hermione, that was reckless and dangerous, what do you have to say for yourself, young woman?" Scolded Quince.

Hermione gave the ghost a crooked smile. "Nothing old man. Don't forget, you love regaling me with stories of your adventures and exploits. Compared to those, my actions were practically nun-like."

Quince let out a sharp bark of a laugh and nodded, ruefully. "I know Hermione. But I was worried. Even I felt the blast of magic that came out when you broke the ward. I can't imagine having physical form and being as close to the explosion as you were."

"I'm fine Quince, just a little banged up. I'll be totally recovered by tomorrow."

The ghost smoothed a hand over his wild eyebrows, looking shaken. She wished she could pat Quince on the hand to comfort him. She settled for a smile she hoped was reassuring.

Quince gave her a strained smile in return, and then sobered as a thought came to him. "You still have to break the ward so that the Unspeakables in St. Mungo's can be healed."

"I know. I'll go tomorrow. I don't think I can do much more than get home and fall into bed right now," Hermione sighed out. She felt bad that the poor researchers would be spending more time in their cursed state, but she had the feeling if she tried to break another ward she would seriously injure herself. Besides, with the way that Harry was hovering protectively, she doubted he would let her do much more than walk slowly to the apparition point at this time.

"Good," said Quince, nodding firmly. "They can wait a few more hours. I'll return to my research now." He hesitated for a second, lingering. "Please take care of yourself Hermione. You're very precious." With that he floated away, and Hermione was sure that if the ghost could blush he would be doing so now.

"I'll have to go to St. Mungo's and then back into the room with the box and use the pyramid then," she muttered, voicing her thoughts and bringing her hand to to her forehead. She was not looking forward to trying to open the box if only breaking the ward took so much out of her.

Harry's broad warm hand curled gently around her jaw. "Not today Hermione."

She dropped her hand and nuzzled into the touch. She nodded in agreement and sighed. "I know, not today."

They sat in silence for a minute as she tried to gather her thoughts.

"I should go back home," she finally said softly, "I'm pretty useless for anything right now."

"I agree," said Harry, tucking a curl behind her ear.

She briefly contemplated telling him that he should have left her alone, that being so close, her in her lap on the narrow cot was inappropriate. That by coddling her like this, he was undermining her independence and power as the leader of this group. But she also knew that Quince wouldn't judge her, that Malfoy was so close to Harry that he probably wouldn't say anything either. And Nagnok had already been taken to the Goblin Realm so had been spared the worst of Harry's affections. So instead she leaned her cheek against his shoulder and decided that would be a conversation for another day.

After a few seconds Hermione had steeled herself enough to brave standing and getting home. She shifted her body and Harry helped her up. It was an unwieldy and awkward process, as she was still tangled on Harry's lap. Before she could accidentally put an elbow somewhere unfortunate, Malfoy had come over from where he had been reading and offered her a hand up. She took it gratefully, and was surprised that the blond also was giving her a concerned look.

"You certainly took a few years off of Harry's life," said Malfoy wryly.

Hermione offered him a pinched smile. "The process only partially went to plan," she admitted.

"I'll say," said Harry with a sigh, levering himself up to stand behind Hermione, one hand resting gently on her hip, ostensibly in an attempt to steady her, but probably actually in an attempt just to touch her and be close to her. She could certainly sympathize with the impulse. The second between when she had stood and when he had followed, when they had stopped touching for that moment, that instant of separation had caused her to feel cold and almost bereft.

The idea of not being near him caused a pain in her chest. She wondered idly if that was from the bond or if it was because she knew how wonderful it was to bask in his warmth.

"So Granger, any more spectacles I should anticipate?" asked Draco as he walked with Harry and Hermione to the workroom door.

"None planned. I was thinking of taking the show on the road tomorrow," Hermione offered with a grin. "I need to go to St. Mungo's. I need to help those poor researchers."

Harry clapped Malfoy on the shoulder in goodbye, and he and Hermione made their way to the lifts, his hand secured on her lower back. It felt as hot and heady as it had the first time he did it. But now there was also something comforting and protective about it that made Hermione's stomach twist in an entirely pleasant way.

The trip to the common apparition points was brief and silent, and she was grateful that they didn't run into anyone she knew, given how haggard she was sure she must look.

Reaching the apparition room, Hermione turned to Harry, an awkward smile playing around the corners of her mouth.

"Thank you for all your help today, she said, placing a hand on the lapel of his robe that she was charmed to see was a little wrinkled from their time on the cot together.

"I'm not going to let you apparate by yourself," Harry said with a frown.

"Well I'm in no shape to side apparate," Hermione retorted, brow furrowed. She was relatively confident that she could get herself home. But just then a head rush came over her and she swayed a little on her feet. So on second thought, maybe not.

She changed tactics. "Well you don't know where I live and I don't have a fireplace that's hooked up to the floo network, so how do you propose we get there?" Asked Hermione tartly.

A blush had bloomed on Harry's cheeks, "I—I sort of know where you live. I—" he broke off and one of his hands went to rub the back of his neck, a tell he was embarrassed if Hermione saw it.

"You know where I live?" Hermione asked, drawing out the last word skeptically. Well this was interesting. If she didn't already trust Harry so much, probably a foolish amount, she would be very alarmed right now. She should be very alarmed right now.

"Yeah, and I—" Harry broke off again, obviously not at all comfortable with this conversation. "And I went and—and took a look"

Hermione's eyebrows were close to her hairline in surprise. "You came to my house. Without me knowing. Why?"

"It was security concerns," said Harry, his voice edging on defensive.

"Security concerns" Hermione repeated, still skeptical.

Harry nodded and dropped the hand from his neck to his side. His fist opened and closed repeatedly, obviously discomfited.

"There was a concern that you living in a Muggle area would be a security liability given the sensitive nature of the project and the importance of your role in it."

Hermione pursed her lips in though. The explanation made sense, but Harry's embarrassment about the situation didn't. It would make sense that they did background investigation about her, and it would make sense that the investigation included going to her home and checking it out. But it was weird that the head of the DMLE had done that investigation personally. Which probably meant that he had snatched up the assignment himself.

"Okay," said Hermione, voice clear and not angry.

"Okay?" Harry parroted, tilting his head in confusion. "Okay? I just admitted to pretty much stalking you, and all you have to say is 'okay'?"

"Yes. Okay." She grinned up at him, amused by his discomfort. "You had a job to do, it makes sense that you wanted to make sure that where I lived was not a security threat."

She took a breath and her blush matched his. "Plus, if it had been me, I would have done the same thing," she admitted.

His smile was soft and she looked away to try to calm her blush.

"Okay." He said and took her hand.

He apparated her to the alley near her house, just a few feet away from the place she normally apparated,

He continued to hold her hand as they made their way to her building.

The warm summer breeze on her face was pleasant and the sun on her skin was delightful. It had been a while since she had left work while it was still light out, and she found that it was a delightful feeling.

They reached the front door to her building and Hermione turned, prepared to say her goodbyes.

She opened her mouth and Harry shook his head. "I'm walking you up to your apartment. I know there's no lift in this flat. I'm not going to have you weak as a kitten, falling down these stairs love, not after Aunty Cissa put so much hard work into putting you right."

"Fine," Hermione pouted. But really she was pleased, and the pout dropped off her face in half a second, replaced with a small smile.

By the time they reached the door to her flat, she was glad that he had insisted on accompanying her, she was winded and had almost fallen twice,

One hand on the doorknob, she turned to tell Harry goodbye for real this time. She had the fleeting desire to invite him in for tea, but then suppressed the impulse. Her mother was home, and there is no way she could subject Harry to her mother. Not yet. She would need to explain, and there would be a whole conversation that they would have to have in order to prepare him.

All thoughts of goodbye fled almost as quickly as they had come. When Hermione leaned on the door to brace herself, the door swung in, making Hermione stagger as the support was gone. Harry caught her, but she hardly noticed, a sinking feeling starting in her throat and making its way to her stomach.

The door wasn't supposed to be unlocked. The door was always locked. Joyce may have barely been functioning, but she was always security conscious, for the door to be unlocked, something bad must have happened.

Hermione found a second wind, fueled by panic and adrenaline and darted inside, wand held aloft.

"Mum?" She called, going from room to room, "Joyce?"

The apartment was empty, and Hermione did two checks of all the rooms to be certain.

Her mother wasn't there.

Her heartbeat was frantic and she pressed her palms into her eyes trying to think. Joyce hadn't let the apartment by herself in over a year. There was little to no chance that her mother had decided to pick today to just go out on a walk.

A large warm palm landed on her shoulder and Hermione jerked her head up to meet Harry's worried gaze.

"What's wrong?" He asked, voice low and concerned.

"My—my mum. She should be here. She—" her voice hitched, and she ruthlessly tried to quash her emotions. It wasn't the time, not when her mother was missing. "She doesn't leave the house, she wouldn't leave the door unlocked, something must be wrong. I need—I need to call the nursing service, they should be here too right now."

Harry gave her a firm nod, and she took momentary reassurance from how calm he looked.

"You make your calls, and I'll call into the Aurors to see if they know what's going on."

Hermione's nod was much more jerky than Harry's had been. She ducked out of his grasp and made her way to where she had dropped her purse. Her old cell phone was there, turned off. It never worked in the Ministry so she always shut it off to preserve its battery life. Her hands shook as she cupped her cell, waiting for it to fully turn on. As soon as the home screen came up, she pushed the buttons to access her directory, looking for the number for the nursing service,

She found it, and the service answered on the first ring.

"Hello? This is Hermione Granger. My mother uses your service, and she is missing from our apartment. Do you—"


Harry watched as Hermione spoke in frantic tones into the phone she held in a shaking hand. The person on the other end of the line said something that made Hermione's shoulders slump in something that looked like relief, but was not quite right.

"Which hospital?" Hermione asked, tangling her free hand in her hair. "Okay. Okay. I understand. Why didn't someone call—okay." She hung up without saying goodbye, and met Harry's eyes, a frightened look in her eyes.

"What's wrong?" Harry felt hopeless. He had known she lived with her mother, but not of her mother's obviously poor health, given that the woman had a nursing service and never left the house.

"I'm not sure yet. The nursing service said there was an accident and that Joyce, that my mother, had been transported to hospital. They didn't know the details."

Hermione dropped her cell on the floor and brought her other hand to her hair as well. Her normally tanned skin had taken on a pale cast. Harry crossed the room to get to her, to hold her, to comfort her. Seeing her distressed like this made his urge to clutch her to him near unbearable.

He brought a hand to cup her neck and he could feel her pulse flutter under his fingers.

"Okay," he said, in a tone of voice he hoped was soothing. "We'll go to hospital to see what happened. We'll get you some answers."

Hermione nodded absently, obviously lost in thought.

He grabbed her phone from the floor and put it in her bag, settling her bag over his shoulder.

She looked so lost, so upset, he just wanted to make it all better.

'Where is the hospital?" He asked, stepping closer to Hermione.

"It's a couple of blocks away." She said, still distracted. "I can't apparate us there, but it's a short walk."

Harry nodded and took up her hand, lacing their fingers together. He led her out the door and down the stairs. When they got to the outside of her complex, he gently asked her what direction the hospital was in. She raised their joined hands and pointed. It was the large building in the distance and they made their way there in silence.

He was unsure what he could say. For all his battles and loss, he had never had anything like this happen. His parents were dead before he knew them, and Sirius and Remus had never been in harm like this. He's never had to go visit them at St. Mungo's and he'd never prayed to Magic that they come out of the hospital alive.

Glancing down at her, he could see that she still had a glazed expression on her face. He took charge as they reached the reception area.

"We were told that her mother was here? Joyce Granger?" The keys of the receptionist's computer clacked as she typed the name into the database

"Yes, she's under observation right now. I just need to collect some information from you."

The receptionist got Hermione's contact information and made her the next of kin listed in the hospital's records so that she would be alerted to any change in her mother's situation. Hermione gave the answers to the questions in a detached voice and Harry could tell that she was largely unaware of what was happening around her.

After what felt like a thousand questions, but was really only just five, the receptionist looked up from her screen and gestured to a sitting area off to one side. "If you'll take a seat in the lobby, I can have the doctor down in about fifteen minutes or so."

Harry nodded his understanding and ushered Hermione to the sitting area the receptionist had indicated.

He chafed her cool hand between his two warm ones. The motion woke something in Hermione, and she looked up at him, tears in her eyes. He pressed his lips together in sympathy, unsure of what to say. Instead he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and she leaned into him, grateful and letting him take some of her weight, some of her worries.


The doctor came around later. How much later Hermione couldn't really say. The only thing she could think of was what if she had killed her mother. What if she had killed her by not pushing hard enough for Joyce to get more help. What if she had killed her by not forcing her to go into care. What if she had killed her by not making her get on medication. What if she had killed her by not demanding she get therapy. What if whatever happened to have her wind up at the hospital was her fault?

Harry's arm around her helped comfort her as they waited together.

"Miss Granger?" An older woman in a white coat emerged from a side door, reviewing a medical chart.

Hermione stood mechanically, Harry close at her side. The older woman saw the movement and walked briskly over to them.

"Miss Granger, your mother was brought in via ambulance at approximately 11:23 AM. The visiting nurse was unable to rouse your mother from bed and called emergency services. She was breathing but non responsive to attempts to rouse her. We diagnosed her as having had a transient ischemic attack. This is also called a ministroke. It is a short interruption of blood flow to a part of the brain. The interruption is brief because the blood clot dissolves quickly on its own. We are unsure if there are any lasting effects at this point, and are keeping her under observation for at least a few days."

Hermione nodded, trying to process the information. "You said that lasting effects are unclear right now. Do you know when you might know more about what her recovery might look like?"

"Right now it's unclear, we are still investigating if there might be any underlying causes. I know that the nurse reported that she has a history of limited mobility and smoking. Does she have any other pre-existing conditions?"

"She has pre-existing mental health conditions," she was embarrassed that Harry was hearing so much about her family's dirty laundry, but his support felt like it was the only thing holding her up. "Since my father died year ago she has been heavily depressed, agoraphobic, and experiences severe mood swings. I've tried to get her to agree to counseling or medication, or really any kind of help, but she's always refused. She doesn't qualify for care because she can still be self-sufficient when she's in a good spell. But she has been very ill for quite a while now.

Harry squeezed her hand in support, but she didn't dare look at him. If she did, she had a feeling she might start crying and not stop. Her mother had been very difficult for a very long time now, but she was still her mother, she still loved her. And she felt responsible. She hadn't been home, she hadn't been checking in with the nurses as much.

The doctor made notes on the chart as Hermione spoke. "That is good information to have. Unfortunately you aren't able to visit her now, as she's still undergoing tests in the ICU. The earliest you can come visit will be the day after tomorrow. Given the history you gave us, we're also going to have her undergo a psych evaluation if she is coherent."

"Do you know now how long she might be in hospital?"

"At least a couple of days, if not longer. I would also bank on her being transferred to a longer term care facility after she is released from the hospital to finish her recovery. I would assume that at the earliest she would be able to go home in a few weeks to a few months."

"Thank you for all your help doctor." Hermione said, voice dull and detached. Her shoulders slumped and Harry put an arm around her. He ushered her out of the waiting room and all those curious gazes to the corner outside the hospital, which was blissfully empty.

He looked around to make sure that they were well hidden and not being observed before he disapparated with her. She was so distraught she didn't even think to object to the change in scenery.

They landed in a lovely library, all leather and dark wood. She caught a glance of built in bookshelves that went all the way to the top of very high ceilings before he guided her to a comfortable sofa.

She sat without protest. Again he put his arm around her shoulders and she turned into his warmth. He pulled her so that she was tucked up close to him, practically in his lap. He ran his hand down her back and she shuddered into him, tears pooling in her eyes. She tried to will herself not to cry.

She was upset her mother was ill, but she also felt relief. That at least for a few days there would be other people taking care of her mother, that professionals might actually be able to get her mother to accept help, maybe even get her into the sort of assisted living she obviously needed. And that made her feel profoundly guilty. How dare she feel relief that her mother was ill and hospitalized? How dare that make her hopeful?

The tears slipped out unbidden, and soon she found herself sobbing into Harry's shirt. He didn't try to shush her, or get her to stop crying. He just held her as she cried herself out, stroking her back and pressing gentle kisses into her hair.

After a while her sobs eased, and she found herself just breathing in his scent. She found it grounding.

Hermione pulled back, her hand on his heart. He gave her a sad smile and she gave him a watery smile.

"Thank you. I'm sorry about all of this," she gestured with her hand, encompassing her teary face, her ruined mascara, and her general disheveled state. Now that the worst of it was over, she felt embarrassed that Harry had been forced to hold her through her family drama. He must think that she's terrible, that she was a terrible daughter that she—

"You're so strong," Harry murmured, tucking a wayward curl behind her ear. She raised her eyebrows and regarded him skeptically.

"You've been taking care of your mother through all this, you've been holding the weight of the world on your shoulders. And you're brilliant and kind, and so so wonderful. I'm so sorry you've had to carry this yourself."

Tears came to her eyes again, and she buried her face against his shoulder.

After a few more minutes she felt all cried out, for real this time.

"Thank you," Hermione croaked out. Harry conjured her a glass of cool water with a sweep of his want and she took it gratefully.

"I'm sorry for—" Harry hesitated, looking chagrinned, "I just apparated you to my home without asking you if that was okay. That was rather high handed of me. But I wanted to take you somewhere safe and I wasn't sure if the wards around your house would let me apparate in."

"Thank you," Hermione repeated, bringing a hand to wipe at her eyes. She drew her wand and conjured a wet towel to run over her face, in part to make sure she didn't have mascara marks running down her cheeks, but also to try to minimize how red and puffy her eyes tended to get after a crying jag.

They sat in silence and Harry continued to stroke her back.

"I can't—" Hermione broke off, looking down at her hands that were twisting the washcloth.

"I'm not asking," Harry said in a low voice, his hand not stopping the smooth stroke of his hand from her shoulders to her hips and back up again.

"I'll tell you one day. I just. I can't right now."

"When you're ready I'll be here."

She believed him too. She settled back against him. It wasn't that she didn't want to tell him, it was that this was still so new. Trusting him with her body, even being vulnerable in a romantic way was fine. But being this sort of vulnerable, this sort of intimate, no, not yet. Her shoulder hunched at the thought.

Harry pressed a kiss into the crown of her head, and she relaxed into the contact.

"You can stay here tonight," Harry offered.

Hermione shook her head almost immediately. "No, thank you, but no. I appreciate the offer, but I need a little time alone. And I have some calls to make."

Harry was looking down at her, a frown furrowing his brow. She reached a hand up and cupped his cheek.

"I'll be fine, I promise."

Harry nodded and she tried to stand and detangle herself from him. Her foot was a little bit asleep, so she stumbled as she stood, but he caught her before she could fall. She smiled at him, grateful.

"So," Hermione said, aiming for a lighter tone, "where are we?"

"Oh, uh, we're in my library. In Llŷr Keep."

"It's beautiful," Hermione breathed out. She took a second to look around. It really was spectacular. This was the sort of library that she had dreamt of as a child. There were volumes and volumes of books, going all the way up to the ceiling. She could see that some looked to be so ancient that they were bound together like the monks bound bibles in the dark ages. But she also saw a row of very modern looking paperbacks, some of which she recognized as muggle.

Her body carried her to one of the shelves and she ran her fingers over the spines of the books. They were cool against her touch, and every now and then one of them would hum with magic, telling her that it was a spell book, or a book otherwise imbued with magic.

"Oh, I could spend days here."

"You will. I promise." Hermione could hear something in his voice. It was almost an ache, a desperate want, and she felt the echo of it hit deep in her gut.

"I know," she looked over her shoulder and met his hungry gaze. She would one day spend days here. This would one day be her home. Harry had made it plain that he wanted her. And she wanted him. This one day would be theirs.

Harry was suddenly behind her, his bulk at her back so close that she could feel the body heat radiating off of him.

He wrapped one hand possessively around her hips and turned her so that she faced him. He walked her backwards until her back was against the bookshelf. He was so close that she was forced to look up at him. That hungry look was still in his eyes.

"You will," he repeated, with more heat this time.

Her mouth curled up into a smile. "Yes, I will."

He was looking at her like he couldn't quite believe she was real, and his fingers pressing into her hips led her to believe that he was hanging on to her so tightly to reassure himself that she was there, she was with him, that they had a future.

She went up on her toes and pressed a gentle kiss into the corner of his mouth. He turned slightly and caught her lips fully.

Hermione had read a lot of romance novels. She remembered scoffing at the descriptions of a couple's first kiss as electric, or somehow spectacular. She had shared kisses with other people, and while some had been pleasant, they had ultimately just been two people putting their lips together. Nothing special.

But this, this was a revelation. Maybe it was the bond, but Hermione suspected that it was something that was just Harry. It felt like a fire was racing through her veins and she wrapped her arms around his neck to ensure she wouldn't be swept away.

His hand drew her hips in closer, the other laced through her hair, and ran his tongue across the seam of her lips she whimpered at the sensation, letting him in. As he deepened the kiss she clung to him fiercely. This was Magic, this was everything .

Almost as soon as they started, he pulled back. She looked up at him, confused and panting, her lips red and swollen from his attentions.

Bringing his hand down from her hair he pressed his thumb against the swell of her bottom lip reverentially. His breathing was ragged and his pupils were blown wide with lust. Hermione pressed a kiss into the pad of his thumb.

"I should take you home," Harry said, eyes still on her lips, "I want to continue this, but…" he trailed off, and she smiled at the care and courtesy he was showing her. Despite her raging hormones which were begging her to throw him on the couch and have her way with him, she knew now wouldn't be the time, not when her emotions were so high for other reasons and she was distracted. When they did this, she wanted to make sure that he was the only thing on her mind.

She pulled back slightly, "yes, you probably should." She couldn't help herself, she leaned in and pressed a sweet and tender kiss to his lips again before removing herself from his grasp, and taking a step towards the library doors.

"Will your wards let me disapparate?"

Harry's hand went to the back of his neck and he gave her an embarrassed smile, the same sort he gave her when he admitted he knew where she lived. "Yes. Actually the wards will also let you apparate in. I added you to them a few days ago."

Her hand went to run over his broad shoulders, which had hunched slightly at his admission. "That's very thoughtful of you. Thank you," she said, smiling.

He returned her smile and his shoulders dropped, becoming noticeably less stiff. "Let's get you home then."

Hermione nodded, and Harry side-along apparated her to the alley by her apartment. Again, retracing the path from earlier, he walked her to her apartment door.

"You'll be okay?" He asked, eyes searching, a concerned furrow to his brow. He reached for her hands with his, giving them a gentle and reassuring squeeze.

"Yes, I'll be fine. If I need anything I'll let you know."

Harry leaned in and kissed first to the crown of her head, then her forehead, and then gently pressed a kiss against the corner of her mouth.

She smiled at him, trust and adoration clear in her gaze.

He watched as she entered her apartment and shut the door behind her.