Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling owns Harry Potter along with Scholastic and whoever else. I only own my characters so DON'T SUE!!!
Six Feet and Fallingby Saerry Snape
Chapter 27 :: January 17, 1995 :: Hogwarts – Afternoon
"BUGGERING SOD!"
Harry ducked as he entered the Gryffindor common room at the exact moment Ginny, face flushed in anger and red hair wild, sent a very large tome across the room. Beside the girl, Neville blinked owlishly and scooted his chair away from her.
"I sense that it's not going too well," quipped Harry as he walked over to the table the two sat at.
Ginny glared at him and irritably brushed her hair back from her face. "No," she spat, "its not going well. We've been through Merlin knows how many books and still nothing! And its bloody pissing me off!"
"You're beginning to scare me," remarked Neville in a soft voice.
"Really?" said Ginny in a bland tone. She ran a hand over her face then looked up at Harry, all the anger draining out of her, replaced by exhaustion. "What are you doing in here? I thought you and Sheyne were out with him."
Harry nodded and sat down in a chair that was probably Hermione's at some point in time judging from the fact that more books were by it along with sheets of parchment covered by her tiny, neat writing. He ran a hand back through his hair and said, "I was. Do you know how exhausting it is to try and talk sense into a Slytherin?"
"No."
"Try shoving a live wire down your throat, another up your ass, and connect them somewhere in the middle."
Neville winced at the mental image and put down his book, looking across the table at the taller boy. "Was Malfoy wrong?" he asked.
"No," replied Harry. "Most of them will listen to me." He laughed harshly and continued, "Most of them."
"And the rest?" said Ginny.
"I believe we have already gone over that little piece of hell."
Harry stretched in the chair suddenly, bones in his left shoulder cracking loudly. He winced at that but ignored it for the most part, letting his body slid down the chair a bit when he relaxed.
"Where's Mione?" he asked after a moment.
Ginny frowned and replied, "Well, she…bloody hell. Neville, where'd she go?"
"I think she said something about taking a break," replied the boy. Since Christmas hols, he had become a tad bit more confident in himself. He was still nervous but not as much. Perhaps it had to do with the Mark's appearance and his will not to fall under Voldemort's control.
"A break?" exclaimed Harry, eyebrows arching as he sat up in surprise. "Excuse me, are we talking about Hermione Granger? I had no idea the word was in her vocabulary."
Ginny glared at him and Harry held up his hands in defense.
"Please. I'm tired of being attacked today."
"Then stop saying things like that. If you really want to find her, why don't you go look in her dorm? She might have slipped up there."
"What about Lavender…"
"Oh, they're long gone. Something about a class with Trelawney or something," said Ginny with an absent wave of her hand.
Harry snorted loudly at that then rose from the chair and crossed the common room to the staircase. As he started up the steps towards the girl's dorms, Ginny and Neville were buried back in their books.
When he reached the fifth year girls dormitory, he heard someone crying inside. Frowning, he cautiously reached out and pushed the door open, peering one emerald orb inside. Not seeing anything through an inch of space, he pushed the door open a little further, catching a glimpse of a bed. And a bushy-haired girl lying upon it.
"Mione?" he exclaimed in complete surprise, shoving the door open to bang against the wall.
Hermione sat up, shock written across her face. Tears had stained her cheeks silver and her eyes were red. When she saw him, a look of pain passed across her face and she buried her face in her pillow.
Harry, worry in his face and eyes, slowly walked towards her. He pushed back a scarlet bed curtain with one hand, easing himself down onto the bed beside her. After a moment, he reached his hand out and brushed his fingertips against her hair, letting it slid on down to her shoulders and back.
"Mione," he said softly. "Look at me."
The bushy head did not move and Harry frowned.
"Mione," he said in a more commanding tone. "Mione, look at me."
Slowly the head did lift as Hermione propped herself up on her elbows. But she didn't look at him.
Harry, frown deepening, said, "What's wrong?"
"I can't," said the girl in a teary voice.
"Can't what?" said Harry, his hand still stroking her hair. "What can't you do, Mione?"
"This."
"What? Me sitting here trying to comfort my apparently distraught friend? Oh, come now, Hermione…"
That brought a vague laugh and Hermione turned her head to look at him over her shoulder. She sniffed and said, "No."
Harry sobered and queried, "Then what?"
"This," said Hermione, sitting up abruptly. "All of this. It's too much. I – I can't…"
Harry's dark eyebrows knitted as he said, "You mean…with the Marks?"
Hermione nodded.
"Mione…"
"I don't want to lose you!"
Harry was shocked by the sudden outburst, by the emotion that was in that sentence. He stared at Hermione, who was looking down at her coverlet, flicking at invisible dust. After a moment he spoke.
"Why?"
"What?" said Hermione, looking up in surprise.
"Why?" repeated Harry, emerald eyes serious. "I know the other's reasons. Shey because I'm her brother. Ginny because she feels she owes me somehow. Neville because he doesn't want to be in this alone. Malfoy because he doesn't want to lose his squabbling partner. But why do you not want to lose me?" He locked his eyes on hers and added, "Tell me why you wouldn't as well see me go."
Hermione looked at him for a moment. She almost made the mistake of looking into his eyes. Those brilliant green pools, always bright but even more so after his last birthday, would suck her in. Who had said that eyes were windows to the soul?
That's where Harry's soul was. In his eyes. You could always see it. He rarely ever masked it, rarely ever hid it when he was angry or hurt or cared.
Oh damn.
She had done it. She had looked. And now she was sinking. Sinking so far, so fast into those green orbs that she could not pull back out…
"I love you," she whispered, the words barely forming upon the air.
"What?" said Harry, not having heard.
They're eyes locked and Hermione repeated, "I love you."
"That's a dangerous thing to say, Mione."
"I know. But…"
"…its true."
Hermione nodded and Harry smiled slightly.
"I had a feeling," he said. "I really did. I just didn't think it'd be true."
"Oh really?" said Hermione. "And why not?"
"Because what would a wonderful person like you want with someone like me?"
Hermione frowned and said, "You sound like Snape."
"I feel like him," said Harry, rubbing his scar. "I keep expecting to feel myself slipping away, to have that…that creature take over my mind… This must have been what he felt like, not knowing when the Mark would burn, when he would be asked to do something he did not want to…"
"You can't slip away," said Hermione, reaching out and grabbing his hand, pulling it away from his scar. When he looked at her, she added, "I won't let you."
Harry smiled grimly and said, "I won't have much choice in the matter."
"I know. But we'll find something."
"I thought you said you couldn't handle all of this?" said Harry with a smile.
Hermione shrugged and said, "I changed my mind."
"Oh, really?" joked Harry, one eyebrow arched. "What made you change your mind?"
The bushy-haired girl looked up into his eyes and replied, "You."
"I'm touched."
"Harry…don't."
"I just don't think it's a good idea, Mione," said Harry, looking away from her.
Hermione frowned at him. "Love isn't a good idea?"
"At this moment? Mione, we don't know when Voldemort will make his move. We don't know when he'll…"
"Harry," said Hermione, "how to he expect to do that? This is Hogwarts, the most protected place in the wizarding world. How does he expect to get to all of you if you're inside the castle?"
Harry looked at her, eyes wide, his mouth partially open.
"Oh shit," he gasped. "Of course! The wards. As long as we're inside the castle, we're safe. But…Mione, when's the next Hogsmeade weekend?"
"In three weeks…" The girl trailed off, staring at the boy beside her. "You don't think…?"
"I wouldn't put it past him," growled Harry, eyes flashing. "The slimy bastard. He'd get us when we're out of the castle, down in Hogsmeade."
"We have to tell Dumbledore. He has to cancel!"
"And then let one of the Death Eater's children actually looking forward to becoming one of that madman's drones warn him? I think not," said Harry. "Let the weekend go on."
"Harry!" said Hermione.
"No, no, listen to me. Let the weekend go on. But – tell everyone who doesn't want to become Voldemort's next Death Eater that the weekend is canceled. If Voldemort makes his move then we'll be ready. And if he doesn't, we'll be ready the next weekend."
"And if the wards fail somehow?" asked Hermione. "There are ways to do that."
"Then we'll have to make sure no one does," growled Harry. "We'll have eyes everywhere soon enough and will be able to follow them. And we'll have Malfoy, not to mention a few others."
"Who?" said Hermione, who had not seen the list Malfoy had made out.
"Not very many. Maybe seven? And one's a first year." Harry shook his head sadly and continued, "She had no idea her father was a Death Eater. And did you know that Moody has a nephew? He's a sixth year – Mika Davids. Apparently both his parents were Death Eaters. He said Moody took them down himself."
"How terrible."
"He says he doesn't remember them. And he rather thinks Moody would approve of what we're doing."
"That's nice," said Hermione.
Harry snorted then looked at his watch.
"I'd better go," he said. "I left Shey with Malfoy…"
"So they're either insulting each other or killing each other?" quipped Hermione.
"Exactly."
Harry got up off the bed, standing there for a long moment, obviously thinking. Hermione frowned at him for a moment then finally said, "What is it?"
"Well," said Harry, "I think you should keep looking for a charm or something. If Voldemort could do it, there's a way to undo it – besides killing him, that is. Or at least blocking it." He looked down at her and continued, "We can't stay locked in this castle for the rest of our lives."
"But," said Hermione, "we've looked…" Harry gave her a very open look, both eyebrows arched, and she gasped, clapping her hands together.
"Of course! The restricted section!"
"Mmm, you do think fast," murmured Harry, smiling. "I'll go ask Dumbledore about it. And even if he won't let us in there…" His voice trailed off as a mischievous grin spread across his lean face, matching the twinkle in his eyes. "Well, then I guess we'll just have to get out my Cloak, won't we?"
"I guess we will," agreed Hermione, smiling up at him.
Harry chuckled then turned to go. He was just about to leave when Hermione called out to him.
"Harry."
The dark-haired boy turned about, eyebrows arched slightly, emerald eyes almost as open as windows. Which Hermione knew they would never be again. They would never be as open as they were when she had first seen them. Harry was not that innocent young boy anymore.
"Yes?"
Hermione felt her stomach do a flip-flop and her throat tightened, keeping her from speaking. She coughed slightly then looked up at him, meeting his eyes.
"I love you."
Harry smiled at her and said, "I love you, too."
Then he was gone.
Hermione sank back onto her bed, cheeks flushed and stomach doing somersaults. He'd said he loved her. He'd said it.
But what if he was only saying that because they were friends? She didn't love him like a friend!
Anger had just begun to filter through her happiness when she felt something warm on her cheek. Lifting her hand up to it, she rested her palm upon it, feeling the warmth. It was almost…almost as though someone invisible was kissing her cheek.
Then she smiled, realizing who it was. Sighing, she fell back onto her pillows, hand cupped against her cheek until Lavender and Parvati came in and asked her what she was doing. Then she only smiled secretly at them and left the dorm, going back downstairs to the common room where she found Neville still diligently researching and Ginny asleep on top of an Advanced Charms book.
Harry was curled up in a chair by the fire, long legs thrown over the arm and a charms book balanced precariously on his knees. He saw her and smiled warmly. Hermione returned it with one just as warm and sat down to research again, her heart fluttering