Disclaimer: JK Rowling is the rightful owner of all Harry Potter content, not me. I am but a simple fanfic farmer tending to my field of fanfics.

Chapter 7

Harry was flying across the Quidditch pitch, his Nimbus 2000 rocketing him across a field of perfect green. Every seat in the stands was packed with cheering fans, and the sky was a bright blue devoid of clouds. He felt the fresh air whizzing through his hair as he zoomed back and forth, searching for the Snitch. He ascended upwards and surveyed his surroundings carefully. Suddenly a flash of gold fluttered across his vision, and Harry moved to reach for it.

Except he couldn't. His right hand, the hand he always used to catch the Snitch, felt tremendously heavy, as if an invisible weight were holding it back. Harry thought he was being jinxed, and looked down to see if Snape was pointing his wand at him from below.

'Not Snape…Quirrell!' Harry thought to himself, and suddenly he remembered everything that had happened. He recalled drinking his fire-immunity potion, finding Quirrell, finding the Stone, and fighting Voldemort. He even recalled being told Snape was the reason he was still alive. 'Gross…' He groaned internally. A flood of memories crashed into his brain and he instinctively opened his eyes.

'Wait, what?' Harry thought as his vision blurred. There was no Quidditch pitch, there was no broom, and there certainly was no snitch. Harry blinked furiously as he was nearly blinded by the sudden rush of brightness. Even when his eyes adjusted to the light, his surroundings were still incredibly blurry. 'Probably because you wear glasses, you prat!'

Harry made a mental note to find some way to hex the voice in his head into submission. Blindly fumbling around with his left hand, he noticed his right hand was still remarkable heavy. Wondering if he had been injured, he felt his fingers close around his glasses. Frantically pushing them up his nose, Harry was finally able to take in his surroundings.

He was in the Hospital Wing. He saw several empty beds across from him and assumed he was alone. From what he could see through the tall windows opposite him, the sun was just beginning to rise on the Hogwarts grounds, bathing the castle and its surroundings in golden light. He looked to his left and saw the entire hospital bed next to him was covered in flowers and candies and cards bearing all kinds of well-wishes. Harry felt his entire body warm up at the thought of so many people wishing him their best, although he was fairly certain he didn't really know most of them.

Then, he looked to his right, and saw what was wrong with his hand. Expecting a gruesome injury or a heavy cast, Harry couldn't help but gasp at what actually ailed him: a certain bushy-haired witch sat asleep in a chair next to his bed, her fingers intertwined with his own, rendering his hand useless. Once he'd recovered from the surprise at seeing his friend and the sight of their hands, Harry surveyed the scene further. A neatly-folded bunch of silvery fabric lay beneath Hermione's chair – his Invisibility Cloak. Hermione was also wearing a bathrobe over what looked like pajamas, and Harry wondered just how long she'd been sitting next to his bed. He gingerly sat up to get a better look at Hermione, who was still sound asleep.

She looked paler than he'd ever seen her, and a tad thinner. Harry wondered if she'd eaten a true meal since he'd been in the Hospital Wing.

'How long have I been in the Hospital Wing?' He wondered to himself, absent-mindedly cocking his head as he stared off into space. At first he thought it was the morning after he and Hermione had gone through the trapdoor, but he was starting to believe more time had passed. The more he thought about his tenure in the Hospital Wing, the more questions he had. He turned to his best friend, who was still dozing peacefully. Her head was tilted back, her lips slightly parted, and every once in a while she made a faint noise in her throat.

He gently squeezed her hand, and she stirred slightly. She shifted in her chair, a faint smile pulling the corners of her mouth up ever so slightly. But her eyes remained closed. Feeling slightly guilty about disturbing her, Harry squeezed her hand once again and managed a hoarse whisper.

"Hermione!"

Her eyes fluttered open. Her deep, brown eyes looked slightly dazed as she took in the sight in front of her. Then, as if someone inside her flipped a switch, her face brightened and she beamed at him.

"Harry!" She cried out before lunging over the bed, tackling him onto his back in her fiercest hug yet. "Are you alright?"

"Well, I'm having some trouble breathing!" He choked out, unable to hide the smile on his face. Hermione pulled away and playfully slapped his arm, staring at him. "But otherwise I think I'm fine. How are you?" He asked. Hermione was silent and perfectly still for maybe half a second before she threw her arms around him once again. "Hermione!" He managed, weakly patting her on the back.

"You don't ask me how I am when you've been unconscious in the Hospital Wing for three days, Harry Potter!" She scolded, refusing to relinquish her death grip until Harry started wheezing. She stepped back, but rather than return to her chair she plopped down on the edge of his bed, turning so she could sit cross-legged and face her best friend.

"I've been in here for three days?" He finally asked once Hermione had made herself comfortable. She nodded, her eyes darkening with concern.

"I ran straight to McGonagall. She threatened to dock Gryffindor two hundred points for waking her up, but eventually she realized I was serious and got in contact with Dumbledore, except he was already back at Hogwarts, and he marched down to get you and the Stone. Dumbledore said he found you unconscious, but you still had a death grip on the Stone and Quirrell was dead." She explained, her voice shaking as she recounted what had happened after she left her friend in the Potion chamber. Harry sat in amazement for a moment, staring distantly, then turned back to Hermione.

"What happened to the Stone?" He asked. Hermione shrugged.

"Dumbledore said he'd tell me later. He called me into his office once they got you out of there and into the Hospital Wing and explained as much as he could."

"I seem to recall I had to drag you away from Mister Potter's bedside!" A voice chuckled from the entrance to the Hospital Wing. The two first-years jumped in surprise, and Hermione nearly fell off the bed. The pair looked to see none other than Albus Dumbledore strolling towards them, a cheerful twinkle in his eyes. "But I don't think you want me to tell that story in front of Harry, do you, Miss Granger?" He mused, a small smile on his face. Harry swore he saw her wink at Hermione, whose cheeks were burning bright red. "May I?" The headmaster asked politely as he moved to sit in the chair Hermione had been sleeping in earlier. The two nodded quickly and he happily sat down. An awkward silence enveloped the three of them as the elder wizard gazed at them with an unreadable expression. Finally, Hermione broke the silence.

"Professor Dumbledore, why are you here?" She managed in a nervous voice. The headmaster turned to her and Harry noticed how much trouble she was having with maintaining eye contact.

"Well, I had a hunch Harry here would be awake, and I figured he would have a few questions for me. I should have known he would not be alone…" Dumbledore answered, clearly amused at Hermione's presence. He turned back to Harry, but it was Hermione who spoke again.

"I'm sorry for being out past curfew, er – before breakfast, it's just that I needed – " But she stopped when Dumbledore held up his hand.

"If I were to recount this visit to the Hospital Wing, I don't think I'd even recall you being here, Miss Granger. It's almost as if you were invisible…" He smiled again, nudging the Invisibility Cloak with his shoe. Hermione squeaked, but Harry just grinned.

"So it was you that gave me the Cloak at Christmas!" The old man nodded, turning back to Harry.

"I imagine you have some more questions, Harry?" He offered, grabbing a pack of Bertie Bott's Every Flavored Beans from Harry's collection. Harry nodded eagerly and the two entered an intense conversation.

"What happened to the Stone? Did you give it back to Mr. Flamel?" Harry asked, and Dumbledore smiled almost wistfully.

"Not exactly, Harry. After the events that transpired three nights ago, Mr. Flamel and I thought it best to destroy the Sorcerer's Stone. The last thing he wanted was for his creation to fall into the hands of an individual like Voldemort."

Harry nodded eagerly, and he continued to pepper the headmaster with questions. When he asked about his scar, Harry felt felt tears well up in his eyes as Dumbledore explained how Lily Potter's sacrifice out of love was what kept him alive ten years ago and kept him alive against Quirrell. Hermione reached over and grabbed his hand when he let out a small sob, and Harry gave her an appreciative glance.

"So why did Voldemort come after me, then?" Harry asked once he wiped his eyes. Dumbledore's eyes darkened, only for a moment. He inhaled for a very long time, gazing at Harry with curiosity.

"Alas, Harry. This question is one that I cannot answer. Not today, at least. One day – and I know how much children loathe to hear this – one day I will tell you. When you're older. When you're ready."

Harry and Hermione sat in an uneasy silence. Harry had no more questions, and the Headmaster then stood, clapping his hands together as if their conversation hadn't taken a turn for the mysterious. After Dumbledore bid them good day, he strolled out of the Hospital Wing, absent-mindedly tossing more Every Flavored Beans into his mouth. Hermione turned back to Harry once the doors shut behind the headmaster.

"I don't like him not answering that question. You have a right to know why You-Know-Who is after you, don't you?" She prodded. Harry nodded, silently wondering to himself why Dumbledore wouldn't answer him. "Anyway, I wonder who all these gifts are from!" She mused, clearly trying to change the subject. She reached over to the next bed to grab a few cards. "The Weasley Twins wish you well, but I wouldn't open any gifts from them – just to be cautious. Probably full of fireworks or something dangerous. Then again, if you're going to open it, you might as well do it in the Hospital Wing…" She trailed off, giggling at her own joke. Harry cracked a smile and leaned over to read his cards.

The two of them spent the better part of a half hour going through gifts and chowing down on all sorts of treats. Harry teased Hermione about what her dentist parents would think, eating so much candy before breakfast. That earned him a playful swat on the shoulder before they broke into laughter.

The two heard the Hospital Wing doors creak open, and Hermione quickly dashed off the bed and threw the Invisibility Cloak over herself. Madam Pomfrey marched in, quickly tending to Harry, checking his temperature and handing him several different potions. He peeked around the nurse to see the oak doors to the corridor inch open before closing once again, and he smiled to himself.

"If you want to attend the end of term feast tonight, you'll drink all of these and you will not leave this bed!" Pomfrey practically hissed before entering her office. Harry managed to choke down the horrible-tasting concoctions without emptying his stomach in the trash can by his bed.

Harry spent his morning and afternoon lying in bed and recounting his adventure to his many visitors. The Gryffindor Quidditch team paid him an early visit, and Wood broke the news that they'd lost the Quidditch Cup to Ravenclaw without Harry as their Seeker. The boy wizard buried his face in his hands, but each of his teammates was quick to reassure them that none of them blamed him. He knew they were telling the truth, but Wood's pained expression was nearly unbearable.

Next, Ron and Hermione had come dashing in and Harry recounted what happened.

"I still can't believe you didn't wake me up!" Ron said, though his tone was one of fascination, not anger. "Hermione told me about sacrificing that knight to get a path to the King, that was brilliant!" Harry and Hermione quickly stammered something about it totally being intentional. "Well, besides chess, I doubt I'd have done much anyway. We're all just glad you got the stone out of You-Know-Who's hands!"

Harry nodded, silently grateful his redheaded friend hadn't erupted at him and Hermione for going without him. He hadn't even planned to go with Hermione, but she'd forced his hand.

'Luckily…' Harry thought to himself, and for once he agreed with the voice in his head.

Harry had several other visitors: Neville, Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas, Lavender Brown and Pavarti Patil, Percy Weasley, and several professors all popped into the Hospital Wing to wish him well and thank him for what he had done. Harry felt sheepish at every 'thank-you' and was certain his cheeks would be permanently red by the time his last visitor, an incredibly cheerful Professor Flitwick, concluded his visit.

"Alright, you can get up now. The feast will start soon, but you're to go straight to your common room once it ends, do you understand?" Madam Pomfrey explained as she helped Harry out of bed. Harry nodded once his legs stopped wobbling, and he began his walk down to the Great Hall.

Even though it was decked out in Slytherin green and silver, Harry had to admire the opulence of the banquet hall. The snake-adorned banners that lined the walls were enormous and undeniably beautiful, and a flag depicting a massive serpent floated above the staff table for all to admire.

Harry quickly dashed over to Ron and Hermione, squeezing in between them as Dumbledore stood and began his end of term speech. Harry groaned as the headmaster explained that Gryffindor had come in last place, a full one hundred points behind Slytherin.

"However," The headmaster continued, and the room fell silent. "Recent events must be taken into account."

Hushed whispers broke out, and the smug expressions worn by Draco Malfoy and all the other Slytherins faltered. Harry felt his heart race in excitement, but didn't dare react until he found out just what Dumbledore's statement meant.

Suddenly, the Herbology Professor – Pomona Sprout – stood up: "For demonstrating complex understanding of classroom-based Herbology concepts in real-world scenarios, I award Hermione Granger of Gryffindor twenty-five points!"

The cheers at the Gryffindor table were raucous, and even a few Hufflepuff students joined in applause as their head of house awarded the witch her points. Hermione was blushing profusely as Harry clapped and cheered louder than anyone. The gap between Gryffindor and Slytherin was still massive, but Harry was ecstatic to see Hermione get rewarded for her brilliance.

Then, Professor Flitwick stood up (standing on his chair so he could actually be seen) as Professor Sprout sat down: "For demonstrating tremendous ability by thwarting a complex series of charms in a high-pressure situation, I award Harry Potter of Gryffindor twenty-five points!"

Harry felt himself getting clapped on the back ferociously by a grinning Ron, and it was his turn to blush at his classmates' cheers. He saw Ravenclaw students across the hall join in their cheers as Hermione threw her arms around him, beaming with pride.

Once the din subsided, Professor McGonagall stood up, her lips still pressed tightly together but a small smile forming at the corners of her mouth: "For demonstrating an innate ability to persevere and for conquering a very advanced obstacle with unparalleled logic and reason, I award Hermione Granger and Harry Potter of Gryffindor twenty-five points…" She paused. "Each." She finished, sitting down as if it were a perfectly normal announcement, when it was quite the opposite. Harry and Hermione had single-handedly evened the race for the House Cup. All of Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw were cheering their hearts out as Harry and Hermione were mobbed by their friends.

The noise finally died down and everyone realized there hadn't been a tie for the House Cup in some time.

"What happens now?" Harry heard a voice whisper. Several similar questions echoed around the Great Hall as the confusion spread like wildfire, until the last person Harry expected to make an announcement stood up.

The entirety of Gryffindor groaned as Professor Snape cleared his throat, casting an unreadable expression towards their table. Harry knew he was about to deduct points from Gryffindor for some mundane reason and hand the House Cup to Slytherin – his own house – on a silver platter.

"For demonstrating wit and cleverness not seen in a generation, in the face of mortal danger, I…" He paused, letting out a dejected sigh. "I begrudgingly award Hermione Granger of Gryffindor…one point."

Severus Snape could have launched into a furious string of swears and unholy curses at that moment and nobody would have cared, or noticed – the cheers were deafening. All of Gryffindor, all of Hufflepuff, and all of Ravenclaw were on their feet, clapping furiously and screaming out of unfettered joy: Slytherin had lost, Gryffindor had won, and it was all thanks to Hermione Granger, the brightest witch of her age.

At that very moment, said witch happened to be trying to curl up into a ball in shock, but Harry refused to let her do so. He leapt to his feet in glee, yanking Hermione out of her seat and hugging her like his life depended on it. After a few moments of the two first-years embracing in front of everybody, the duo was knocked to the ground by another ecstatic pair – the Weasley twins – in a fierce bear hug. Soon, nearly half of Gryffindor had piled on top of them in traditional Gryffindor ridiculousness, and despite the crushing weight of their peers, Harry and Hermione couldn't stop laughing.

Harry had never felt as giddy as he did when he saw Dumbledore clap his hands and the green and silver of Slytherin was replaced with Gryffindor's scarlet and gold all across the Great Hall. He looked back to see a towering banner over the staff table now adorned with a magnificent lion – not a serpent. He was certain this was the best night of his life – better than beating Slytherin in Quidditch, better than defeating the mountain troll. He got to share this incredible victory with all of his friends, especially Hermione. Although her eyes were shining with tears, he could tell she was beside herself with glee at what had transpired, and that she was having the best night of her life as well. The pair walked triumphantly back to the common room, led by a vanguard of rambunctious Gryffindors eager to throw an end of term bash like no other.

The days at Hogwarts flew by much too quickly for Harry Potter. Without the stress of exams or the Sorcerer's Stone, he spent much of his time roaming the grounds with Ron and Hermione, although Ron was opting to spend more time playing Wizard's Chess and Exploding Snap with other Gryffindors like Dean and Seamus.

Harry still made time for Ron, although whether it was just the two of them lounging about the common room or the trio strolling along the Great Lake, Harry could tell the redhead felt a bit out of place, but didn't press it. Harry found himself wondering if he should talk to Ron as he and Hermione sat in the sun, their backs against a tree as they admired the beauty of Hogwarts castle.

"I've written about you to my parents, you know." Hermione blurted, ripping Harry away from his train of thought.

"You…what?"

"Just in letters to my parents, I mentioned you. I wrote about meeting you on the Hogwarts Express, and when you made me feel better after the troll incident. Obviously I didn't tell them there was a troll, just that I was feeling down on Halloween and you were there for me. I even wrote that we'd been on our own little adventures in the Forest and the third floor, without giving very many details." She rambled, wringing her hands in her lap. Even Harry, who sometimes felt he had the intuition of a tree stump, could tell she was nervous.

"Hermione, is something wrong?" He asked, turning to his best friend. Her cheeks had tinged pink, and she was looking down at the grass they were sprawled out on.

"They want to meet you, even have you over for dinner a few times during the summer. They seem to be under the impression that you're a nice boy who's been a really good friend to their daughter." She smiled shyly, and Harry snorted.

"And who would have given them that impression?" He joked, intentionally ignoring the first part of what she'd said. He looked away but could feel her eyes on him. "Hermione, listen…" He sighed. He'd gone almost the entire school year without explicitly mentioning his home life with the Dursleys. Now, with his return home within spitting distance, he felt like it had become inevitable. Just as he awkwardly cleared his throat, Hermione spoke again.

"Harry, you don't have a very happy home life, do you?" She whispered, and Harry felt as if the air had been snatched out of his lungs. When he envisioned telling her that the Dursleys were unlikely to let him visit her, he imagined her face would be a look of shock, perhaps not even believing him. He mentally kicked himself for not anticipating Hermione's cleverness once again.

Now, here she was, ready to comfort him no matter what, even reaching her hand over to his. He sighed as their fingers intertwined, his head drooping involuntarily.

"How did you know?" Was all he could manage. Hermione slid closer to him and lifted her hand from his, opting to wrap her arm around his shoulders.

"Well" She started, and her voice was as shaky as his, "you never talk about going home, or what you miss about it. You chose to stay at the castle for the Christmas holidays before you even knew Ron was doing the same thing. You always get distant whenever Ron talks about his parents. You even do it when I talk about mine, and I barely mention them at all. And from how I've described you in my letters to my parents, they've started asking questions too. They're medical professionals, so they're well-trained in spotting these sorts of things." Harry felt her squeeze his shoulder and pull him in closer. It took every ounce of willpower he had to not break down. His eyes felt hot with tears, his throat aching with sobs he refused to let out.

'Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry, don't cry,' Harry yelled to himself in his head, which only made things worse. He opened his mouth, but couldn't bring himself to speak, and he shook his head, disappointed in himself.

"Harry, that night, before we left the common room…" Hermione started, but he heard her hitch her breath. "That night, you said you weren't going to let anything happen to me. Let me return the favor. Please" She croaked, and Harry felt her trembling as he continued to stare at the grass beneath them.

That was it. Harry broke down the moment Hermione finished speaking. She pulled him close, letting him sob into her robes as he had let her done so many times before. Harry let every last bit of emotion come roaring out from within as he cried his shattered heart and soul into her shoulder. For what felt like the millionth time, he wanted to tell her everything – every last detail about the last ten years of his life. Crying in a cupboard, alone. Eating a fraction of the food a boy his age needed. All the abuse he'd received for as long as he could remember. He wanted nothing more than to tell her everything.

"I'm sorry, Hermione." He choked out before another round of sobs wracked his body. Hermione wordlessly squeezed him tighter.

The pair sat there for a long time. Harry was quickly able to subdue his crying, an instinct he had been forced to adapt at Privet Drive, but his eyes still burned, his throat still stung, and his cheeks hot from the few tears he allowed to fall. Worst of all, his heart ached, as if it had been shattered like glass. He knew he would be returning to the Dursleys in just a matter of days, but he wanted nothing more than to sit in the sun, in Hermione's arms.

'But I can't do that to her.' Harry realized silently. Letting out a shaky sigh, he pulled away and turned his eyes towards the castle.

"Harry, I'm going to write my parents a letter tonight." Hermione finally whispered. Harry shook his head.

"Hermione, I can't ask you to do that. I can't let you do that." He replied, holding his head in his hands miserably. Hermione wordlessly stood up and walked in front of Harry.

"I'm not asking for your permission, Harry Potter. I'm telling you that I'm writing a letter to my parents. Tonight." Harry shook his head again, lifting his eyes to meet Hermione's. Her gaze was sympathetic but firm, unflinching. "Like I told you, Harry, they're medical professionals. It's going to be alright, you just have to trust me. You trust me, don't you?"

Harry let out another sig.

"Hermione, it's not that I don't trust you, it's that I don't think you really ought to -"

"Like hell, Harry Potter!" Hermione yelled, stamping her foot. Harry's eyes widened in fear and he instinctively crawled backwards a few feet, feeling a primitive desperation to put as much space between himself and the girl in front of him.

Her eyes were darker than he'd ever seen them. He'd seen a frustrated Hermione, a distraught Hermione, a worried Hermione, but he had never seen her so angry like she was right now. She was breathing heavily now, her loud inhales and exhales the only sound he could hear on the eerily still Hogwarts grounds.

"Hermione, please – "

"You're not going back there, Harry." She cut him off in a much quieter tone, but it was still fierce enough for Harry to shut his mouth. "Look," she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, "I'm sorry for yelling at you, Harry. You didn't deserve that, and I'm sorry." Harry nodded in silent acknowledgement, suddenly noticing he was trembling. "But right now, you're in more pain than anyone should have to bear in their lifetime, much less a child! Do you really think that if our positions were switched you wouldn't do everything in your power to help me?" She asked, slowly taking a knee so she could meet Harry's eyes.

Harry couldn't disagree with her there. He wasn't certain of many things, but he knew if something – or someone – tried to hurt Hermione, he'd do whatever it took to help her, to make her feel better. She meant too much to him.

'She's too good, too kind to have to go through something like that. To suffer.' He thought to himself.

'Maybe that's what she thinks of you…' The voice in his head offered. His heart jolted at such a thought, but he slowly realized it was the truth. He met Hermione's eyes, and they were lit with a ferocity that told him it was true. She cared about him too much to let him set foot in Little Whinging. He let himself be helped up to his feet, his legs feeling like jelly.

"Harry, can I borrow Hedwig? I have a letter I'd like to send to my parents."

He nodded silently, and the pair walked slowly towards the castle, hand in hand.

A/N: OK, feels time. Sorry about that. But, hey, Hermione's the brightest witch of her age. There's no way she couldn't tell Harry was hiding something from her about Privet Drive, right JK?

Anyway, I really hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. The last-second points for Harry and Hermione from all the different professors instead of just Dumbledore was my best recreation of the jersey scene from Rudy, which is one of my favorite sports movies of all time. I didn't even make the comparison when I first wrote this chapter, but once I saw it upon revising I couldn't un-see it. And, of course, Snape's gonna Snape.

Again, I cannot express my gratitude for those of you who have favorited, followed, or reviewed this. There are no words in the English language that describe how much it means to me, and I encourage anyone – if they like the story, of course – to add this work to their favorites, to drop a follow, to write even a short, simple review. Thank you all so much, and stay safe!