Like Magic
"Harry! You're awake!" Ginny proclaimed with a luminescent smile. She was standing very closely to Hermione and they looked mostly the same as they had when they left, except they had the air of people who had been out for a number of hours.
"I had to let you in, didn't I?" he answered.
"Did you wait up for us this whole time?"
"You are so a gentleman! I told you you lied." Hermione said, pushing his shoulder. He smiled faintly at her.
"You are too sweet to be anything else, Potter!" Ginny attested.
"Just come inside and stop complimenting me." Harry replied, moving to give them room. He could feel his face starting to warm from their words.
"Last time I saw you, you ordered me to get out. Now you're ordering me to come in."
"A bossy gentleman, then." Hermione remarked, giggling.
"Yes!" added Ginny, grinning.
"Hermione is calling me bossy?" he wondered in disbelief. The red head laughed loudly then said:
"Oy, good point!"
"Hey, you're supposed to be on my side!" the brunette asserted, whirling on Ginny.
"We can continue this lively discussion about Hermione's bossiness in the kitchen so you don't wake Ron," Harry stated, gesturing the way, "We can get you some water, too."
"We don't need water, Harry." Ginny noted.
"No, we don't. And I'm not bossy!" Hermione insisted.
"Too late about the waking Ron bit," a voice evenly interjected.
Ron stood at the top of the staircase and was gazing down at the trio with an unreadable expression on his face.
"Brother!" his sister uttered as he descended the stairs.
"It sounds like you had a good time, then."
"We did."
"Have enough to drink?" Ron asked, looking between the young women. Hermione narrowed her eyes but Ginny had words.
"Nuh uh. Nope! No judgment, Ronald! I never get on you when you drink! Which is more often than me!" she warned.
"We drank some tonight," mumbled Harry. The other wizard glared at him with a look of betrayal while Ginny gave a triumphant scoff.
"We are allowed to drink! We are all adults here." Hermione stated, huffing and crossing her arms. Harry gave half a grin.
"Yes, yes! It was just a question," defended Ron, although the witches did not seem convinced, "Just… want to make sure you're all right, is all." "
"We are fine as you can see."
Hermione threw out her arms and twirled on the spot to make the point but her foot got caught in the foyer rug and she went rushing to the floor without a chance of righting her balance. Harry's natural reflexes reared at the sight and he shot forward to intervene; he caught her before she fell and cradled her in his arms with a secure grip around her middle.
"Oops! Damn it," she uttered, laughing once.
Harry heard Ginny's peal of laughter and Ron's skeptical comment about their "all right" state but he was more focused on Hermione. She appeared highly amused and her face was colored. Was she wearing makeup?... she was, wasn't she? It was light but it was there. Makeup. Had she done it or Ginny? The brunette also felt warm, but that was to be expected if she had consumed a good amount of alcohol. She did not smell like liquor, either… he could somewhat detect that sweet yet earthy scent that he realized- noticed- she wore during sixth year.
"Thank you, Gentleman Harry," Hermione bid, smiling at him. He nodded, still studying her face and holding her up. He had never asked her what that scent was… maybe he should. It was nice.
The Weasleys said something but it sounded far away to Harry. He was now noticing how the velvet of her dress felt under his fingers and was a bit amazed. The texture was so appealing! Did Hermione also think the fabric felt this good? He rubbed her sides unawares and pulled her closer, going back to observing her makeup. The witch's mirthful demeanor began to fade when she felt Harry's embrace around her tighten ever so slightly and she fully registered that he was staring at her. Hermione's brow furrowed a tad as she peered back into his serious countenance. He had not yet let her go and she had not yet attempted to move. Why? Also, was he?... she felt his fingertips moving against her sides and inhaled.
The front door flew inward with a BANG the very next second, propelled by a volley of wind that surprised and assaulted all four. Ron used his wand to close the door as Harry hastily let go of Hermione, taking a step back and turning away.
"It hadn't been that windy tonight!" Ginny remarked.
Harry gulped, from what had just happened and his rescue of Hermione. The wind and the door had been his doing. Another outburst.
Mother of Merlin.
"Well I think that's enough action for one morning," Ron attested, clapping his hands, "Everyone needs sleep! Come on- we'll help you girls up to bed."
"Now you're trying to be a gentleman?" pondered Ginny.
"That's Harry's job." Hermione stated, giggling again.
"Exactly! And if anyone is helping me to bed I want it to be him."
Harry's eyes widened, Ginny laughed, and Ron's ears went red as an offended look passed over his face. That had been the first explicitly flirtatious thing the red headed witch had said about Harry in months and it had definitely just made things awkward.
"No need. I've got you, sis," Ron said in a gruff voice, "Harry can help Hermione."
The dark haired wizard readily looked away from Ron and glanced at Hermione. She seemed entertained once more.
"See you lot in the afternoon, then!" Ginny bid, heading for the stairs and throwing up a hand in farewell. Ron gazed at the brunette witch for a long second as though he wanted to say something or change his mind, but he sighed before saying goodnight and following his sister.
Harry turned to Hermione while the other two marched up the stairs only to see that she was making her way past him.
"Where are you going?" he inquired, sounding a bit bewildered.
"Maybe I do need water," she admitted.
Not wanting to leave her alone, Harry accompanied her to the kitchen where they stayed for 10 minutes until she emptied her glass.
"You're not really going to help me to bed, are you?" Hermione asked with a smirk as they stood at the bottom of the staircase once more.
"Well, n-no, but-" he commenced.
"Because I can make it there on my own just fine."
"I've heard that before, like when you nearly ate the floor earlier trying to prove to Ron how fine you were."
The retort came out before Harry could stop it but it only made Hermione's smirk grow. She stared at him and he stared back, wanting to, now, grin himself. She did not say anything before she started climbing the steps and he trailed behind her after she had gotten to the third one. This, however, is when the third problem of the night manifested.
The first problem had been Harry's reaction upon seeing Hermione in his apartment right before she had gone out. The second had been that interlude when he prevented her from falling (which caused another magical episode), and now his eyes were stuck on specific parts of her body. Now he was a pervert!
What is wrong with you? What the hell is wrong with you!, he questioned, faithfully watching the curve of her waist and the way it accentuated the hump of her rear. This is Hermione! Stop it! You're being a perv, you git! First her front and now her back?! STOP ogling your best friend! Harry clenched his teeth and tried to do as he had instructed himself but it was extremely difficult. It was just so entrancing, watching her. She was actually swaying! Was she doing this on purpose? Had she always moved this way up stairs? Why had he never paid more attention?!
Harry made sure his eyes were above Hermione's neck again once they stepped onto the landing. He walked her to her room and she opened her mouth to speak but he muttered out a "goodnight" and dashed past her before she could say anything. Harry breathed deeply the entire trek to his room (Sirius' former one) and hurled himself on the bed, face down, once behind its door. He let out a frustrated groan. The entire night had been downright strange in relation to Hermione. The shock at his apartment, the incident in the foyer, the gawking on the stairs… he had been weirdly caught up in her all night! Hermione's chest, waist, and butt flashed through his mind in succession and he balled his fists. He felt angry at himself, at first, but he slowly uncurled his hands as a new, more accepting thought presented itself.
Harry had called himself a pervert for ogling Hermione but maybe that was not it. Maybe he was just an 18 year old male! Maybe he was just an 18 year old who had not had physical intimacy in some time, an 18 year old who was recognizing how physically attractive his best friend was, and these two facts were merely playing off each other. He didn't have to be a pervert because he subconsciously saw and reacted to Hermione's appeal.
The notion made him feel less frantic- less guilty- and he relaxed into his pillow. Maybe I just need a good snog. I wonder if Hermione would be willing to help me with that problem, Harry pondered. He snorted before telling himself what he truly needed was just sleep.
Harry met with Meknikov the weekend after Easter, his second time doing so since the Healer revealed his thoughts about the cause for Harry's magical instability. He warred with himself the majority of the session over whether or not he should tell Meknikov about his off putting reactions to Hermione the previous weekend. One side declared that Meknikov would use the information as proof that Harry did feel something for the brunette witch (which was still not the case), while the other side insisted it had been a difference in his feelings he had observed so he needed to tell the Healer, because the Healer was there to help him get a hold of this.
Consequently, Harry ended up sharing it the last 15 minutes of their meeting. Meknikov appeared a tad surprised but it was subtle, like almost all of his reactions to what Harry said, and he listened without many interruptions or follow up questions.
"So you were struck by Ms. Granger's appearance, more than once," the older wizard summarized.
"I s'pose so. Yeah." Harry muttered.
"And it sounds like you approved of what you saw."
There was awkward silence in which Harry did not look at Meknikov.
"Maybe I'm just finally noticing, for good, that Hermione is pretty. I've noticed it before. Maybe now it's just sticking… or something," he offered.
"Perhaps," the Healer said, showing a muted smile, "Now, let me tell you what is going through my head."
"You'll do it anyway so go on."
Meknikov chuckled and then proceeded.
"You enjoy being in Ms. Granger's company and are extremely comfortable with her. You care about her feelings and feel a need to see that she is taken care of emotionally. You have a fierce sense of protectiveness for her. And, now, her physical appeal has become increasingly apparent to you."
"Those are all normal things to feel for a close friend," Harry asserted, starting to look irritated, "You can recognize when your friends are good looking without it meaning you want them!"
"Oh, most definitely!," Meknikov agreed, "These are common traits for meaningful friendships, yes, as well as romantic relationships."
The younger wizard's irritability increased. You brought this on yourself, you nit. You knew he would use this to his advantage!, he raged at himself.
"I have a question for you, Harry: how would you feel about Ms. Granger being courted?" the Healer pondered. Harry outright stared at Meknikov with a deadpan expression.
"Is that relevant to what we're talking about?" Harry inquired. This man was always throwing unwanted curve balls!
"Humor me. How would you feel if another young man dated her?"
An image of Ron popped in his head but it brought a feeling of dread for an inexplicable reason so Harry forced it away. Ron was not dating Hermione- no one was- so why did he have to imagine this scenario? It was odd and he could freely admit it did not bring a smile to his face.
"He'd have to be worthy." Harry answered, voice sounding a bit gruff.
"There's your protectiveness," Meknikov observed, smiling, "And it is totally understandable that you would want someone worthy for your best friend. So, let's say there is a wizard worthy of her; he is respectful, honest and kind, and he genuinely cares about her. How would you feel?"
Harry's mouth began to pucker. He felt like curling his fists. Why did Meknikov need to know this, want to know this? Why did that matter? Why was the Healer concerned about Hermione's love life! Harry was good and aggravated now and ready for the session to end.
"I can't say," he stated in a tight tone.
"Do you think you would accept it and be sincerely happy for her, as people are wont to do when their friends find good, compatible romantic partners?"
"I suppose I'll find out how I feel when it happens, won't I?" Harry replied through clenched teeth, only barely managing to not ball his fists.
Meknikov offered another benign smile that only served to irk the other wizard and then uttered:
"Indeed."
Blasted Meknikov! There were certain times that Harry savagely questioned why he was seeing the Healer and his most recent session with the man was one of those times. Posing preposterous scenarios about Hermione dating and asking preposterous questions about how Harry might feel about it. Had the point been to upset Harry? Because, if so, mission accomplished.
Hermione dating.
How would that feel for Harry… pssh. She wasn't dating, which was the crux of it! Accordingly, there had been absolutely no need to imagine such a situation. She was not dating, plain and simple. And if she were, she would tell them- him and Ron.
Well… perhaps not Ron. The red head had a notorious history of reacting very poorly to Hermione's romantic life and belittling the men interested in her, so Harry could see why their female best friend would not rush to inform Ron about a new development in that area of her life. But he, Harry, was a different story! He had been supportive of the brunette's couple exploits during Hogwarts.
Well… mostly. Or maybe he had been accepting rather than supportive. He had not despised or resented Krum and remained friendly enough overall; the main reason he had not been more personable was because the Bulgarian Seeker had been his competition for the tournament. As for Cormac McLaggen, Harry had been very put off by the git and wanted to throttle him but that was because the other Gryffindor had been so unlikeable for a variety of reasons, including his arrogance. There had also been a murmuring in sixth year of Seamus possibly being interested in Hermione that had found its way to Harry's ear despite valiant attempts to prevent it from happening. And, admittedly, the dark haired wizard had approached his roommate about it one night, feeling rather aggravated by the notion (and the fact that he had just come from detention), but Seamus resolutely denied it for everything he was worth, so Harry let the matter die then and there.
Seamus wanting something with Hermione had been too odd to fathom. Cormac wanting something with her had been revolting because he was definitely not worthy of the witch. So few men were! This was one thing Harry had tried to convey to Meknikov through his preposterous musings about Hermione seeing someone. Something she was surely not doing. He would know if she was.
Hermione was not dating. She was not…
Right?
Blasted Meknikov! Now Harry had to prove that Hermione was not dating anyone because there was doubt that she would tell him if she were. She had girlfriends, after all, and what if she thought she could concern them about this aspect of her life but not him? He wanted to know, too. Needed to know! They were best friends and he had to be able to watch out for her. When Harry did confront Hermione about this matter, they were both at the Ministry during work hours.
He went to her department with a determined face, garnering admiring gazes along the way without effort from numerous people who would not get over the fact that Harry Potter worked in the same building as them any time soon. When he arrived, he found her talking and smiling with some wizard who presumably worked on her level. He looked a couple years older than them and appeared comfortable- happy- to be conversing with her about a topic that Harry sorely hoped was work related. Narrowing his eyes, he marched over to the pair and interrupted them without guilt.
"Hermione," he started in a business like tone.
"Harry," she answered, sounding fond and turning toward him.
"Wow. Harry Potter! I haven't seen you on level five before," her coworker stated, grinning. Harry side eyed him for a second before giving a terse nod, which caused the other wizard's merry countenance to falter some.
"Can we talk for a moment? It's important. It won't take long." Harry attested, gazing at Hermione.
"Sure…," she replied, "Would you excuse us, Daniel? I'll be back."
"Please," this Daniel person responded, gesturing with a hand.
"Thanks." Harry mumbled. He grabbed the witch's hand and briskly walked them away without looking at Daniel again, failing to see the tiny frown that shown on Daniel's face at their departure.
"Are you all right, Harry?" Hermione commenced once they had sufficient privacy, peering at him closely.
"Why do you ask?" he questioned.
"You seem… preoccupied." He had also been rather short with Daniel but she was not going to comment on that in case he became defensive.
"Well, yeah... I do have something on my mind. And it's important. Like I said."
"What's going on?" she pondered.
Harry did not reply instantly and, instead, gazed back into her curious eyes for a long period of time.
"You would tell me if you were dating someone, right?" the wizard blurted out. He saw Hermione draw her head back in surprise and the corresponding, gaping expression she made.
"What?" she asked.
"If you were dating someone. You would tell me, wouldn't you?"
"Is that the important issue you wanted to talk about?"
"Maybe." Harry said, finally dropping his eyes.
"I thought it was something work related, at least!," began Hermione, giving a small shake of her head, "Harry, I'm partially relieved it's not something more serious, but this couldn't have waited for another time? A time that wasn't at the Ministry?"
You didn't seem all too busy when I arrived and you were chatting it up with Daniel, he thought, frowning.
"What's wrong with talking about it now?" he asked.
"Well, nothing, I suppose. But I thought it was important!"
"It is important, Hermione. To me."
She stared at him and blinked, perplexed all over again.
"Are you?" Harry continued.
"Am I?" Hermione repeated.
"Are you dating someone?" He really tried not to sound impatient but she wasn't answering the question.
"Oh!"
She started to blush and looked away from him at last. His insides instantaneously seized up at this as a wave of jumbled thoughts overtook his mind, the forefront of which was that she was dating a man and how the hell had he missed that?! However, before Harry could open his mouth to say anything, the brunette was speaking again.
"No, I am not dating anyone right now," she revealed.
He felt like all of the tension (that he had not known he had been holding) was let out of him in a single breath and his body visibly relaxed. He wanted to give a small smile. He knew it. Take that, Meknikov!
"No coworkers?" the wizard inquired, thinking of Daniel.
"No. No coworkers, Harry, or anyone else at the moment." Hermione reassured, peering at him once more.
"Okay," Harry had wanted to say "good", instinctively, "... Has anyone tried?"
She gave her friend a peculiar look and her eyes narrowed a tad as some of the tension rushed back into him at her expression. Where had that follow up question come from? Why had it? His mental filter really was worthless at times.
"I didn't know my dating life was this important to you," the witch remarked, continuing to appraise him shrewdly.
"Why wouldn't it be? You're important to me," he answered, feeling fairly defensive now and sounding challenging, "And I… I need to be sure any old tosser isn't interested in you."
"Oh, Harry," the witch scolded before a moment of silence passed. There was no bite or anger in her tone whatsoever; she had, in fact, struggled to not let another stunned look cross her face at his assertion.
"So, just keep me updated about that, when- if- it changes. Yes?"
"Yes. As long as you don't become a raging monster like Ron and try to interfere. I'll not have both my best friends become cavemen who do their best to make sure I never date."
"Not tossers, at least." Harry added, impulsively stepping right to her and placing a kiss on the top of her head. It was another impetuous move that even made him pause before he pulled away, but Hermione only smiled sweetly and accepted it.
"May I ask why this was such a pressing issue? How it came up?" she asked before he left to return to level two and she left to return to Daniel. He appeared caught off guard and gave a nervous smile while he scratched the back of his head.
"Oh. Erm, well… it was just related to something Meknikov mentioned the last time I saw him."
"Healer Meknikov? How often do I come up in your conversation, Harry? And what exactly are you saying about me?"
A large grin gradually spread across his face as he thought, if only you knew! Then, with a wink, the wizard turned on his heel and walked away from her, ignoring her insistent call of his name.
Hermione's assurance that she was not dating, and that she would tell him if she were, erased most of Harry's vexation toward Meknikov, although the Healer was determined to make Harry doubt himself, it seemed. Feeling disturbed by the idea of Hermione dating, admiring her physical traits, being in tune with her emotionally- that could all be explained in a platonic sense.
And he had explained it all, rather well if he did say so himself. However, when May arrived and brought with it the first anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts, something occurred that Harry found hard to explain away.
May second was a solemn day. It was a Sunday so classes were not in session, but if they had been, the students of the castle would have been abstained from attending. There was a memorial held on the grounds and hundreds of people attended; Shacklebolt and McGonagall were the primary speakers but others spoke as well, such as Hagrid. At the Wizengamot's urging, the Minister approached Harry to ask if he would say something during the ceremony, although he personally knew Harry would deny the request. Accordingly, Shacklebolt was not shocked or offended when the younger wizard refused, and he explained that he did not expect anything from Harry but to remember and mourn along with everyone else.
Harry wanted to keep the event's focus on all of the lives lost and far away from him that day but it was impossible. He was thanked by numerous people and stared at by many more, and his jaw became tense whenever he was lauded by one of the ceremony's speakers. He sat with the Weasleys, Hermione and Andromeda, with the Longbottoms and Lovegoods nearby. The ceremony itself lasted two hours and ended with the unveiling of a respectable monument in the Entrance Hall that Harry himself embraced. However, he did not have the stomach to stay and convene beyond 45 minutes once the memorial was over, primarily because he was being crowded with each passing minute, so his best friends and Neville readily left with him after giving Luna and Ginny thorough goodbyes.
The rest of the day was spent visiting graves. It was harrowing but it felt right- needed. They reconvened with the Weasleys for their last grave visit, Fred's, and it was heartbreaking. The sun set as the large group gathered around the site and offered words and tears for the fallen wizard, with George and Molly being the worst off. It took a substantial amount of time before they were ready to return to the Burrow for dinner and Ron knew that he needed to stay with his family through the night due to the emotional toll the day had taken. Harry completely understood and, when the meal was finished and he prepared to leave the Burrow for their apartment, he informed the red head he would see him at work the succeeding day.
Hermione joined Harry after giving Ron a consuming hug and she was Side Alonged to the boys' home. Things seemed somewhat stiff between them when they arrived, yet it was hard determining if it was due to the sober mood of the day or something else that was not being verbalized.
"You didn't have to come with me back to the flat, Hermione. You could've gone home." Harry carefully informed her.
"I wanted to make sure you were okay before I left," she answered, sounding mulish. He gave a half hearted smile at her Hermione-ness.
"I'm as fine as I can be after a day like today."
A sad look crossed the witch's face as she nodded and looked at the floor and it erased Harry's tepid smile.
"Rest will likely do us both some good," he offered, peering at her, "You should go home and sleep, Hermione. I know I will."
"Yes. You're right," she said after a moment. However, she was not meeting his gaze and the sad looked remained. Harry's brow furrowed at this and he took some time to study her through the dense silence but Hermione did not look up or say anything more.
"Hey," he uttered at last. This brought her head up as her eyes fixated on his. The haunted expression was still there as they stared at one another for an instant.
"Do you want to stay the night?" the wizard pondered.
A thin sheet of water appeared in Hermione's eyes at the question but she also gave a single laugh and nodded.
"I'm sorry, Harry. It may seem silly, but I j-just…" she commenced. He shook his head, silently stopping her from continuing. Harry understood and did not think it silly. It had been an arduous day from an emotional standpoint and she presumably did not want to be alone with the weight of her feelings.
"Don't apologize. I get it," he directed. Yes, he did, a lovely feature of their relationship, "Do you want my room or Ron's?"
"Harry, I'm not going to take your room- not when you're here to be in it yourself."
"Do you want my room or Ron's?"
Harry had repeated himself as though she had not spoken which caused Hermione to shake her head in exasperation and affection. It was about her comfort to him and if she preferred his room to their best friend's then he would bunk in Ron's without protest.
She chose the empty room out of her own care for him but, incidentally, she did not stay there. Harry was awake a few minutes past 5AM, staring resolutely to the right of him at the sleeping brunette in his bed whom was facing him and clutching a pillow with both hands. Hermione had not been in his bed when he had initially gone to sleep, or even at 1:42AM when he had woken up for about half a minute before falling right back into slumber, but here she was upon his second waking, situated as if she had been present the entire time.
Conversely, it was not hard to explain away her presence in Harry's bed. The previous day had been taxing and Hermione needed solace, a fact that had led her to his bed. She had not been forward enough to explicitly ask for it but she felt comfortable enough with him to seek it on her own, and he was comfortable enough with her to provide it. What was more, this was not an entirely new scenario; when they had lived together at Grimmauld before restoring her parents' memories, Hermione found her way to Harry's room during the night two or three times to fight off the darkness of her dreams. No one else knew about it and they hardly discussed it themselves, but it was another part of their relationship that highlighted their closeness.
So, no- Hermione being in bed with him was not hard to explain away. What was hard to explain away was that Harry could not stop staring at her. He should have gone back to sleep for a few more hours after discovering her next to him but that was of little importance to him now. It was much more compelling to blatantly observe her and it was something he had never truly done before. Hermione was in a white pajama top and her hair was in a single braid but, seeing as how it was just as disorderly as his, half of it had come undone. Harry tried very hard to contemplate why he could not look away from her but all his brain could offer him was snippets of his sessions with Meknikov. The wizard pursed his lips but did not stop studying his best friend.
Gosh, what would the Healer have to say about this if he knew? He would probably fix Harry with that knowing, annoying, kind smile of his and ask him what he made of the fact that he stared at a sleeping Hermione for minutes on end. Harry still probably would not have an answer and Meknikov would then give some explanation that tied back into the theory that Harry was secretly in love with her. Deciding this was a moment he would not share until he had adequate reasoning for it, he emitted a big exhale and prepared to sleep once more. (It had been 10 minutes of staring, after all). Harry focused on wayward, frazzled curls around her face until his eyelids became too heavy to keep open and he slipped into unconsciousness, remaining turned towards her until they both awoke three hours later.
Harry had silently railed about Meknikov and his theory since the Russian wizard first verbalized it, and he had stayed loyal to himself in that regard for quite a long time. However, during May, The Boy Who Lived's metaphorical fist shaking at the Healer had subsided significantly.
A subconscious part of Harry must have realized he no longer had much of a leg on which to stand to protest Meknikov so vehemently. There were those few, bizarre instances involving Hermione since Easter and there was also the fact that his magical outbursts persisted, the most damning evidence of all. That they had not disappeared despite seeking help in November is what made him finally mull over it all, without judgment, to evaluate Meknikov's words more objectively.
Then came an encounter with Hermione on the third Friday of the month that demolished any remaining, petulant feelings Harry had in regard to Meknikov. It was the first time that he outright considered the Healer might be right.
The pair was in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place cleaning up after their dinner, something they had to fight Kreacher to allow them to do. (Peace was obtained by promising the elf they would not do it again for the next three months). Ron was absent as he had gone to the Ministry at 7pm to begin his night shift, a shift Harry had worked the previous night. Hermione had been quiet and fidgety during the meal and it was apparent to the dark haired wizard that she was bothered by something. He waited to broach the topic until the cleaning was complete and stopped her before she could leave the room.
"I've been waiting for you to freely tell me what's wrong but it looks like that isn't going to happen," commenced Harry, "So let me ask: what's wrong, Hermione?"
The witch peered at him and looked conflicted, as though she was debating on whether to be honest or dismissive. She dropped her gaze so he waited expectantly; when she brought her eyes back up, they appeared more emotional than they had up to this point.
"Something happened today at work that upset me, is all. " Hermione replied.
"When?"
"At lunch."
"Lunch?" he questioned, furrowing his brow.
"Yes," she confirmed, "I was going to get my own when I overheard… overheard a conversation."
"About what? Between who?" She shook her head but responded.
"Two women. Level three, I think."
"What was it about?" Harry prompted. Hermione broke eye contact and took a long pause before answering:
"Me."
He sucked in air as he gazed at her and could feel his chest constrict a tad. She was upset so he highly doubted they had been singing her praises.
"What'd they say?"
The silence this time was used to avoid having to reply but Harry would have none of it. He had to know what was wrong because he did not want her to remain distressed.
"Hermione," he stated in a tone that was both firm and pleading. The brunette's shoulders tensed but she finally met his gaze once more, only to appear so vulnerable that it made him clench his teeth.
"I only heard a small bit of it but they said… t-they said they don't... they didn't see how you can spend your time with a witch who has big hair a-and a big mouth. A big mouth on a plain face," she shared.
Harry's entire body became taut from the spike of anger he experienced as Hermione looked away. She did her best to hold it together and not become more emotional as she continued talking.
"I've tried to tell myself all day that their words don't matter, that worse has been said about me and done to me. I've really tried, but…" But she was human and historically sensitive about her physical appearance due to others' vocalized opinions.
"Do you know who they are? Their names?," he rapidly asked, the anger apparent in his voice, "If we went to level three, you'd be able to point them out, right?"
This brought her head whipping up and Hermione stared at him, somewhat aghast.
"Harry, no. I don't want retaliation!" she noted.
"Well I do."
"Harry, you just can't storm down there and knock heads about!"
"Why not?" he demanded.
"Harry-" she tried to start.
"How dare they, Hermione?! They don't know me and they sure as hell don't know you! They can't get away with saying things like that! It's disrespectful enough as it is, but you're you! You saved their arses along with everyone else's, including mine, from Voldemort!"
Hermione was equally touched by Harry's passion and protective nature as much as she was concerned about keeping him from getting riled up further. She stepped to him and put a placating hand on his upper arm.
"You're right, Harry. It's not okay- no," the witch remarked.
"You're Hermione Granger. They don't know how utterly brilliant you are! That is why I want to spend my time with you!" he continued.
Hermione's heart throbbed at the words but the next ones that came from his mouth caused her heart to freeze right before its rhythm became downright turbulent.
"I like your hair. And your face isn't plain! It's lovely."
She stared at him with an open mouth before a blush overtook her cheeks but Harry's rant persisted as though he did not completely register her reaction.
"Those cows are just jealous that I would bypass them in a room without a second thought in order to get to you," he asserted, scowling.
The shock did not stay with Hermione for too much longer. Once it disappeared, she gave Harry a disarming beam before she threw herself at him and hugged him for dear life. She was well aware her best friend cared deeply for her, but to hear such brazen compliments said with such conviction… and he called her lovely! It was too much for the brunette to merely brush off.
Harry, meanwhile, appeared to snap out of the anger spiral once he felt Hermione in his arms. He peered down at her head while they embraced and felt a fierce sense of satisfaction while he chastized the witches more. There was no doubt he had meant all he said. She was brilliant, he would chose her over any other woman in a room, and she did have a lovely face. She clearly needed to hear it more if she still doubted her appearance this much; Hermione had grown into her looks quite well, in his opinion.
And her body's soft… goes well with her face, Harry thought as he held said body. Consider her personality on top of that and no witch can compare. I dare anyone to say otherwise to my face.
"Oh, Harry!" she exclaimed once she pulled away from him. She looked so pleased as she gazed into his eyes that sharp pride shot throughout him. He had made Hermione feel better! Perfect.
Harry peered back as he let this electric feeling fill him and he offered her a kind smile.
"It's the truth," he claimed.
"You're more than a girl could ever ask for."
Hermione squeezed his hands and took a step back toward him, and the wizard inhaled as his eyes took her in again. Conversely, not four seconds later, a jet of water came gushing out of the sink's faucet and alarmed the pair. The witch shrieked from the startling disruption as they separated. They gawked at the torrent of water for a moment before she hurried over to the sink and used her wand to make it stop; Harry's jaw tightened as he watched her.
Water had been dripping slowly from the faucet since they finished washing the dishes and he knew that it had become that violent stream because of him, his magic. And it happened right in the middle of a moment he had been having with Hermione… a moment in which he had felt good.
"Harry!," she said, turning back toward him when the water was taken care of, "That was you, wasn't it?!" Her tone was stern and her frown was disapproving. Harry wanted to flinch.
"Erm…" he uttered.
"Just what has Healer Meknikov been doing with you?! What is he saying? Because your magical outbursts have not stopped despite the fact that it's been months! Is he even helping?! Do I need to join you for a session? Because I think I should! I should hear for myself precisely what he is doing because you're not forthcoming with information! And I have quite a few questions to ask that man, starting with!..."
Harry merely stared at her as he listened to Hermione pontificate. He was not paying much attention to what she was saying, however, because his own mind was beginning to swarm with thoughts. Big thoughts. Loud thoughts. Damning thoughts.
Thoughts that made his heart thud faster in his chest and his breath catch in his throat.
Thoughts about Hermione and how she had looked at him and how he had looked at her, and thoughts about how he had felt, right before the water sprayed out of control.
Thoughts that Meknikov's theory about his wild magic just might be accurate.
A/N: One more chapter, which will be shorter than the first 2.