Disclaimer: HP's not mine. It's JKR's and other related companies. Go bug somebody else about it.

Author's Note: This goes out to Alfonso Cuarón for making an utterly amazing movie that fitted POA perfectly, and one that inspired me to write this (weird drabble as it is). No movie's ever done that before. And this also goes out to Romy, Jennifer and Kalie for giving me feedback (and especially to Kalie for answering my questions) and being overall great people.

This is in Hermione's POV.

Somehow, it's different with you. I can't put my finger on why – either that or I'm just denying it. It's a common thing for us to hold hands; in case we needed support or just a plain reminder that we were there for each other. Always.

For me it was for support. Whenever I was surprised or shocked by something, you were conveniently there as a ready support for me to grab onto – most of the time, your arm. Now it has progressed to more than that – more than a mere grabbing of each other's arm. Yes, you did the same thing – but that was when you had to protect me. And then there was more, which I don't need to elaborate on.

Somehow, I think, it's both strange yet comfortable. It feels natural to hold onto one another, to protect the other person as much as we could. You never liked it whenever I grabbed your arm, but you were okay with it. Maybe you just weren't comfortable with it. After all, we were thirteen, an awkward and confusing and ever changing age. We were unsure of what to do; how to do things, how to react. We were unsure of everything.

For you it was different. Sometimes it was for comfort; sometimes it was to protect me. You did it without thinking; same here with me. Although we did it out of instinct, without even thinking about it, it didn't feel wrong or out of place at all. It was as if we'd been doing it our whole lives – only every year we were steadily getting used to it; you and I got more comfortable each day. It was as if we had finally matured enough to get used to it; or maybe because we had done it so much we'd become accustomed to grab each other by the arm or the hand.

There are so many examples of this that I couldn't even begin to possibly put it into words. They're countless . . there was the Grawp 'incident' when things got out of control . . and yet it prepared us for worse things to come (as unbelievable as that sounds), and then there was when you, Neville, Luna, Ginny, Ron and I went into the Department of Mysteries and instants after were attacked by Voldemort's personal army of minions. All I can remember of that day was you pulling me along with you when we were running and dodging away from the Death Eaters' attacks. And then when the Fat Lady was 'slashed' (so to speak) by Sirius . . oh, I can't even go into more now.

Only one memory stands out in my mind now, and that was when you and I were at Sirius' memorial ceremony. You were on the edge of a breakdown, although you did your best to cover it up. It wasn't any use, though, since you knew I saw through your façade. There wasn't any point in covering up your emotions around me since I knew you so well, and you knew that. You also knew that I would get it out of you sooner or later, even if you did your best to hide it. So while you still held onto your façade, you reached out and grasped my hand, holding onto it as if it was your only lifeline. Somehow, in an abstract way, it was.

Now it's become a sort of a 'normal,' I guess, thing for us to do. As if our hands are being pulled towards each other by a magnet, yet we don't bother to do anything to stop it. It's comforting to us to hold hands. Which personally I don't find anything wrong with at all.

Somehow, it's different with you. But that's why I like it.