Harry Potter looked at his reflection.

He was slender, with subtle lines of muscle on his arms and stomach. His pajama-pants hung low at his narrow waist, and looked as of they were even slightly tugged upon they would slip off of hip completely. He was not powerful-looking by any means. He had filled out over the past summer, but was still thin and fair.

His hair was its usual, uncontrollable disaster. It fell tousled unevenly over his forehead and over his ears. Its blackness was deep, but had an almost iridescent sheen, like the feathers of a raven. He looked at the curve of his face. He disliked its boyish roundness. There was a sharp curve where his jaw met his neck, though, which he felt made him look a bit more adult. His spectacles had been upgraded to a larger size, but still remained perfect circles. Behind them, almost unnaturally bright emerald green eyes stared back at him. His brow was dark and expressive.

His brow, at that moment, was the focus of his observation.

His nose less than an inch from the mirror, he held a candle up to his forehead, nearly singing his hair.

There was no trademark scar. Not even the sign that it had ever been there. His forehead was perfectly smooth.

He stared at himself for a very long time, before the mirror scolded him, uttering things such as, "Now, Now! You couldn't find yourself THAT interesting!"

Harry managed a chuckle.

Dumbledore had invited Harry to stay at one of the Hogwarts guest quarters, even though school was back in session. Harry realized that he had been unconscious for nearly two weeks while recovering from the battle with Voldemort. He had nowhere to go when he awoke, since the Dursleys would certainly not take him in. Professor McGonagall took him up to this room, which contained its own private bathroom facility, and informed him that he was always welcome for as long as he needed at Hogwarts. He was happy to see his old teacher, who spoke to him in her usual cold tone, but was constantly smiling at him with warmth in her eyes. The room was large, and had the potential to be cold and drafty, but was quite contrary to that. It was up in a tower, and had two large windows, one overlooking a courtyard where Harry could look down on the students, and one facing the shores of the lake. It was dark at the time, and Harry had drawn in the crimson and gold curtains to keep the cold out. The stone walls were painted a warm red ochre, and there was an impressive fireplace on the far wall, containing a merrily crackling fire. There was a small table, a bookshelf full of strange books, a dresser, and a couch upholstered in the same crimson and gold fabric as the curtains. The bed was large and soft, and had a canopy that seemed to be woven of gold spider's thread. On the floor was an elaborate violet and gold wool rug, and tapestries woven in the same colors depicting unicorns, dragons, manticores, and other mystical creatures lined the walls between candle holders. The bathroom was equally as elaborate, done up in warm hues of orange, red, and violet, and all the fixtures seemed to be golden as well.

Harry was cozy and comfortable. Harry felt no desire to leave soon. He wanted some normalcy, some comfort. He felt good here. He knew that this was his haven, his place to recover before venturing back out into the world of wizards, where he would surely be hassled and questioned by every other person he happened across.

Harry heard a faint knock on his door, and it creaked open a bit.

"Harry?" said the soft voice from behind the door.

"Come in..." Harry said.

Hermione entered the room,quietly closing the door behind her. She carried herself gracefully, although her face looked as though it had been scarred by an unspeakable pain. She had grown up quite a bit over the summer as well. She had become tall and curved, her face had narrowed and her hair had calmed. She was an unconventional beauty, but a beauty nonetheless. Now, though, she looked worn and sad.

Harry raced over and embraced her. "Hermione! How...How are you?" He said, not really needing to ask. She began to shiver, and he could feel a tear on his shoulder as he pulled her in.

"I...I loved him so much" Hermione wimpered, collapsing into his embrace. He pulled her over to the couch where they sat. She was sobbing, quietly. Harry was aware that Ron and Hermione had shared an unspoken romance between them for a long time. They both knew it was there, and that the other felt the same. Harry would occasionally go down the stairs to find that Ron had nuzzled Hermione into a corner, or Hermione tracing her hand tenderly across Ron's cheek as they studied. Harry would always leave them alone at these times. He knew that their intimacy was none of his business to interfere with. They never talked about it. When Harry was there, they were three friends again.

"I know" Harry said, touching her hair, trying to hold back his own tears as to not worsen the situation.

They remained this way for a long time.

Hermione finally composed herself and pulled away to look Harry over.

"Harry!" she smiled, sniffling "I still have you!"

"Of course you do, 'mione. " He replied.

"Tell me," she said " What happened. The truth, not the rumors."

Harry explained what had taken place with Malfoy, the basilisk, and getting lost. He detailed for her the magical combat that he and Voldemort had engaged in, and Voldemort's death by the glowing red figure of the stag, his father. Harry emphasized that he really had done nothing, and that he did not believe himself to be the powerful wizard everyone else saw him as.

Hermione did not take her eyes from him as he explained all of this to her.

"I don't see you as powerful, Harry." Said Hermione "You're just...somebody," she paused, as if trying to think of how she wished to phrase what to say next.

"You're just a person who is loved. That, I suppose, gives anyone supernatural powers to defeat evil. You just know how to wield it. That's what I think, Harry."

"I like what you think much more than what everyone else thinks. I don't want to he the hero, Hermione. I want to be Harry Potter, not 'The Boy who Lived' or 'the defeat of the Dark-Lord. I want to be normal from now on!" He said the last phrase with defiance.

"Harry" Hermione said, you know as well as I do that the outside world will never see you for anything but a superhero. But you're always Harry Potter to me!" She smiled "You big dummy, always getting yourself into near-death trouble. I'd almost think you looked for sticky situations to get involved with".

"There's a difference between a 'sticky situation' and being forced to face the lord of evil!" Harry huffed.

"Oh, I didn't mean THAT situation. I was talking about when you got stuck in the stair fourth year! Geez, Harry, come on now." retorted Hermione.

"You think you're clever, eh?"

"I know I am"

Not quick enough to think up a witty response, Harry shut up and examined the carpet.

He did not look up for a long time, until he felt the warmth of Hermione's hand on his leg. She was leaning over him, using his knee as a support so that she could examine his face closely. In an unexpected action that forced a friendly shiver up his back, she lifted his chin into the palm of her hand and looked him straight in the eye.

"Your scar's gone."

"Yes..." he gasped "It is. I'm not sure exactly...why."

He trailed off as she brushed away a stray lock of his insane hair, and kissed his forehead in the place where the scar used to be.

She stared at him for a moment, waiting for him to act. When he remained still, Hermione pulled herself away from him and moved to the far corner of the couch.

Harry pondered Hermione for a moment, before putting his hand on her knee, looking her straight in the eye, and kissing her forehead.

The look on her face was a mix of pleasure and surprise, with there being slightly more of the latter.

"Stand up, Hermione." Harry said, setting up off of the couch.

She stood in front of him.

He kissed her, square on the lips this time.

She seemed to go limp in his arms "Harry, I'm sorry...I just..um..." she scrambled for words.

"Hermione, don't explain yourself. That ruins the moment. Stay with me, here, tonight." He said, falling backwards onto the bed.

"Okay..."she said hesitantly, sitting next to him, placing her hand ever so carefully on his stomach, right above his navel.

"I know precisely what you're feeling right now, becasue I know you and I can be honest. You are afraid that you are somehow displeasing Ron by doing whatever it is we have done or about to do." Harry said, surprising Hermione.

"Yes...that's right"

"I feel the same way."

"oh..."

They were silent for a long time, not looking at each other.

Finally Harry spoke again.

"Hermione," he said hesitantly "I feel that there are times when people, all people, simply need to feel...physically close to somebody else. People...need...er...they need to touch, to know that that warmth is there. That's all. I didn't mean to upset you" he murmured.

"No, Harry...I think you are right. I'm not upset, just...confused." Hermione replied, trying her best not to sound emotional.

There was another long silence, but this time they stared at each other.

It was Harry who broke this silence as well.

"Is it okay then, Hermione, if I just...hold...you tonight? No romance, none of that. Just to feel some sort of closeness...just to..."

"To feel alive?" Hermione finished for him.

"Yes."He said, looking at her with an almost vulnerable expression.

"That would be really nice, Harry."

"Okay then..."

She watched him curl up under the sheets, and she removed her skirt and crawled in to join him. Hermione, with her keen knowledge of fire, uttered some spell causing the candles to go out and the fire in the fireplace to be reduced to a pile of glowing orange embers.

Hermione turned to face him, and tenderly placed her lips on the place where his neck met his jaw. He leaned into the touch, but did not reciprocate.

"Good night, Harry Potter."

"Good night, Hermione"

He wrapped his arm around her waist, and her fingers reached down to coil up with his. They fell asleep like this.

Comfortable in the knowledge that the other was there, it was the most restful sleep that both Harry and Hermione had experienced in a very long time.