Disclaimer: I do not own any Harry Potter content. None whatsoever. JK Rowling does own Harry Potter content. All of it, in fact. Good for her.

Chapter 23

"Professor?"

"Mister Potter, please."

Harry stood rooted to the floor in fear.

"Professor, why – "

"Mister Potter, I think we both know the answer to that question"

Harry felt his stomach plummet. His Transfiguration teacher stood in front of him with her trademark tight-lipped expression, but her beady eyes held something he'd never seen in them – sadness. He shook his head instinctively, as if asking McGonagall to walk back what she'd just said. She did no such thing.

"Harry…" It was Wood, standing just behind him. He turned to see his Captain white-knuckling his broomstick, his face looking as crestfallen as Harry felt. "Go."

"It's alright, Harry." Katie Bell whispered. He turned again, surveying the room. Each of his teammates was nodding in understanding, their expressions depicting a common sympathy.

Harry nodded weakly, trying his best to offer them a smile, but knowing his lips were hardly up to the task. He turned back to McGonagall, who flicked her wand to open the door. He let his broom clatter to the floor and he walked to the exit, his eyes glued to the ground.

Once his shoes hit the grass of the Hogwarts Grounds, he heard the door close behind him and he felt a hand on his shoulder. He whipped his head up in surprise to see McGonagall staring straight ahead, her fingers digging into the skin of Harry's shoulder.

"Professor?"

She remained silent, but cast him a quick glance. Harry swore he saw her offer him the smallest of smiles, but he blinked and she was staring straight ahead again. She guided him to the castle, whisking him up a few staircases before bringing him to the doors of the Hospital Wing.

"Wait here." She said curtly. "Please."

Harry nodded, still feeling like he'd left his stomach in the locker room. He stood alone in the corridor, absent-mindedly adjusting his Seeker gloves in an uncomfortable silence, assuming McGonagall was talking to Madam Pomfrey. Then, a sharp voice rang out from the other side of the oak doors, loud enough to echo across the hallway.

"The boy has suffered enough!" He heard McGonagall practically shout. There was a pregnant pause, and for a moment Harry considered bolting back to the common room. Before he could act on such impulse, however, the doors were wrenched open by a flustered-looking Madam Pomfrey.

"You have ten minutes." She said matter-of-factly, shepherding Harry to one of the beds with the curtains drawn around it. With a flick of the nurse's hand, the curtains opened just a bit to allow Harry to slip through. "Ten minutes." She repeated, before leaving him.

Harry stood deathly still in front of the bed. For a moment, the body that lay in front of him looked entirely unfamiliar. Sure, he'd seen that mane of bushy brown hair before, but to see it unmoving, instead of bouncing up and down with the slightest movements was…foreign. Like someone had made a wax replica of his best friend. He blinked a few times, allowing his brain to process what was in front of him.

Hermione Granger lay on a hospital bed in front of him, and unlike the last time, he wasn't sure if he could comfort her at all. He felt his legs start to shake and instinctively grabbed the bedframe, his knees buckling slightly. He took a few deep breaths, closing his eyes and allowing himself to muster enough strength to stand up straight. He owed her that much.

Eventually he opened his eyes. Despite the smallest of hopes that lingered in his mind, Hermione hadn't budged. With a dejected sigh, he moved to the side of her bed and sat on the edge, instinctively placing his hand over hers. Instead of the warmth that constantly emanated from his best friend, her skin was cold, and the feeling sent a shiver down Harry's spine.

Eventually he brought his eyes to her face. Her mouth was frozen in a small 'o' shape, no doubt in surprise at the sight of Slytherin's monster. But her eyes were what captivated Harry. Her deep brown irises were always brimming with emotion, indicating just how she was feeling even if she tried to hide it.

Now, they were perfectly still, and completely devoid of any emotion. They looked like the eyes of a statue, carved with great detail but as inanimate as the bed she lay on. Harry sighed again, slowly rubbing circles on the back of Hermione's palm with his thumb.

"You told me you wouldn't end up in here again." He whispered, wondering if she could even hear him. "You told me. We had a deal, Hermione."

He suddenly felt the urge to turn his eyes to the ceiling, blinking away a few tears that threatened to spill down his cheeks. He let out a few unsteady breaths before turning back to his best friend.

"I don't know if you can hear me. But I hope you can." He sighed, squeezing her hand. "Pomfrey is going to kick me out any minute. In the meantime I'm just going to sit here and hold your hand, and pretend you're asleep or something. But I'll be back tonight. You have my word, Hermione Granger. I'm coming back for you."

He sat on the edge of her bed for a few more minutes, staring at her motionless frame. Already, he was planning how he would manage to sneak out of the common room that night, how he'd don his Invisibility Cloak and tiptoe through the corridors. A small cough from behind him jarred him from his thoughts.

"I'm afraid I can't allow any more visits, Mister Potter." Madam Pomfrey sighed as she guided Harry towards the doors. "I can't allow even the faintest of chances that her attacker will return."

Harry nodded glumly in understanding and traipsed back to the common room. He didn't bother changing out of his Quidditch robes as he flopped onto his bed, and he didn't bother getting up until the sun was swallowed by the horizon hours later.

Harry found it in himself to get changed into his pajamas, hoping he could convince his fellow second-years he'd been asleep and would be asleep for the rest of the night once they came up for bed. Just before he could crawl under his sheets, however, the door creaked open.

He turned to see Ron standing uneasily in the doorway, an emerald-green book in his hands.

"How are you feeling?" He asked awkwardly. Harry shrugged, darting his eyes to the floor. He heard the redhead sigh before continuing. "Well…we all know you're not staying in that bed tonight."

Harry grimaced. After all his nights spent in the Hospital Wing when Hermione had undergone her unwanted feline transformation, he should have guessed his peers would suspect his plans for the night.

"None of us blame – er, none of us really expect anything different." Ron paused, clearly uncomfortable with the gravity of the situation. "Look, erm…Lavender asked me to give this to you. She said Hermione reads it every night before she goes to sleep, and she thought you should bring it to her tonight. I guess you could read it aloud to her or something…I don't know." With shaking arms, Ron brandished the book he was holding, and Harry finally got a good look at it.

It was the photo album – the second photo album – he'd given Hermione for her birthday. The one with the photos of just the two of them, the one she'd mentioned in her Valentine. Harry felt his heart shrink in on itself a bit, but he managed to walk over to Ron and take the book. He tried to give his friend a grateful smile, but he knew it looked more like a scowl than anything. Ron nodded in understanding and uncertainly placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I know I'm no Hermione Granger. None of us are." He chuckled, before returning to a serious expression. "But you've always got us. Your Gryffindor Gang has got your back, whenever you need it." He offered before turning to leave. Harry felt his heart suddenly swell with gratitude, and felt a smile creep up across his face.

An hour later, he gently pushed open the doors of the Hospital Wing, the photo album clutched in his hand. He made his way over to Hermione's bed and slipped inside the curtains. Muttering Lumos, he placed his lit wand on her bedside table and sat on the edge of her bed.

"Told you I'd be back." He said, trying to smile but failing once again. "Lavender said I should bring this to you. I feel like it's a bit insulting to just leave it here, knowing you can't open it and what-not, so I thought I could describe the pictures out loud to you." He whispered, placing the emerald album in her line of sight for a moment.

"So, erm…here goes." He began awkwardly. "This photo here, it's the first one Colin took once you asked if we could have some pictures in pairs. I thought I'd be all nice and step to the side first…let you and Ron get some good photos in. But you snaked your arm around my waist – it was actually quite cheeky of you, now that I think about it…" He trailed off, snickering. "Anyway, it's the photo of you tugging me closer, and you've got this dazzling smile on your face. You're looking at me at first, while you pull me in. I've got this dumb look on my face – I'm sure you just call it my normal face – before turning to the camera to smile. I remember being really surprised at how suddenly you just…yanked me closer to you. It was nice..." He sighed, staring at the photo wistfully.

"I'm sure, like every other book you own, you've got this thing memorized from cover to cover. But I thought maybe, if you can hear me, you'd like to be reminded of some happy memories. If not, well, I can certainly use some joy right now, so it still works out." He smirked, taking one hand and placing it over Hermione's once again.

"This next one is me putting my arm around your waist while trying to look at the camera. Oh, yikes, I've never actually looked at this one closely. That wasn't my smoothest moment." He chuckled, shaking his head amusedly at his past self clumsily trying to wrap his arm around Hermione. "Then there's this one, of you resting your head on my shoulder. You look so content here, you know. It's like every bit of tension you carry around just vanished the moment your head hit my shoulder. I remember your hair tickling my cheek that day. It always does when you lean on me like that, but I really don't mind.

"There's this one, where your head is still on my shoulders, but you've turned to look up at me. I remember thinking you were trying to do some kind of puppy-eyes thing. You looked so…I don't even know what word to use."

'Cute?' The voice in his head offered, and Harry rolled his eyes.

"The next one you've turned back to face the camera, but you're giggling now. I'm looking at you like you're a crazy person, but I have this small smile. I remember wondering why on Earth you'd decided to start laughing, thinking that someone had put something in your pumpkin juice.

"But, I don't know if you've noticed by now, your laughter is contagious. Really, it's like the plague, but in a good way, every time you burst into a fit of giggles I feel the need to start cackling too. And that's exactly what happened that day." Harry smiled in reminiscence, turning the page. "I'm sure the next picture will show, yep! There it is. We're now laughing like complete idiots. I'm pretty sure Ron actually called us lunatics when we finally wrapped this photo session up. I don't know if I've ever laughed as hard as I did then.

"These next photos are just you and I laughing hysterically. They're great photos, though. I really like this one in particular. You probably already know which one. You're laughing so hard you can't even stand up straight, so you leaned your back against my chest for support. I thought I was about to fall over too, but then I felt you sort of start slipping, so I sort of wrapped my arms around you before you could start rolling on the ground in the courtyard like the crazy person that you are.

"But nothing beats this last photo. I remember when Colin showed it to me, the day before your birthday. At first I thought about strangling him, for taking a photo without our permission, but it's just the best. I decided to have him add it at the last minute. I thought you might be mortified when you saw it, to be honest. I mean, someone we barely know taking pictures of us? It's actually even weirder now that I say it out loud…

"Anyway, the point is, the photo turned out great. It's the one in the library, where I'm cupping your chin because you were either ignoring me or just too engrossed in your book. I don't think I even noticed how red your cheeks were when it happened, but in the photo they're the same color as my Quidditch jersey. I don't know if I've ever seen you look so flustered." He sighed wistfully. "You look adorable in this photo, you know that?" He added before he could stop himself.

He sat in silence, marveling at his own instincts to say such a thing before coming to his senses. "I…erm, well, now I don't know if I want you to be able to hear me or not." He laughed awkwardly, gingerly closing the photo album.

"That's the last picture, anyway. It's really late, and as much as I'd love to keep rambling about happy moments, I can barely keep my eyes open. But I'm not going anywhere." He added defiantly, moving off the bed to grab a nearby chair. "I'll be right here, Hermione." He whispered as he wrapped himself in the Invisibility Cloak and sat down in the chair. Carefully, he placed the emerald album under Hermione's pillow before leaning back. He took one last look at his best friend, and drifted off to sleep with a faint smile on his face.

The Next Night

Harry creeped into the Hospital Wing almost a full hour later than he had the previous night. He quickly parted the curtains around Hermione's bed and slipped inside, dropping the Invisibility Cloak on the chair he'd slept in the night before.

"Sorry I'm late." He said, then cringed at such a bizarre way to start their one-sided conversation. "Erm, anyway, a lot happened today. All those prats from Hufflepuff apologized to me for saying I was the Heir of Slytherin and what-not, which was nice enough I suppose. They all said they knew I'd never attack you, but they've never seen how annoyed I get when you trash Quidditch." He laughed at his own joke for a moment, but felt distinctly empty with a silent Hermione next to him.

"Right, well, I went down to Hagrid's. I was ready to vivisect him, Hermione, ready to tell him off for letting a monster loose that ended up hurting you. I was so ready to be angry with him, but when I knocked on his door he pulled me in and immediately launched into an explanation of how he'd had nothing to do with the Chamber of Secrets – this time or the last time.

"I had to go to his hut in my Invisibility Cloak since nobody's allowed to leave their common rooms besides meals and classes. Before I could ask Hagrid if he knew who had opened the Chamber, someone knocked on the door and I hid in the corner. Then, Dumbledore walked in with Cornelius Fudge – Minister of Magic – and Lucius Malfoy. Turns out that smarmy git is a school governor, and he'd pretty much bullied Fudge into having Dumbledore sacked and Hagrid sent to Azkaban. It was awful to watch, really." Harry paused, pursing his lips at the memory.

"But, last night I had a good time talking about happy thoughts, so I thought I'd do that again." He grinned, turning to Hermione. He let out a small sigh at the sight of her unmoving form, but gingerly placed his hand over hers once again.

"You wrote in your Valentine about the first time we shared our couch in the common room. I figured I should tell you my side of the story, since it's one of my favorites.

"After we came back from the library, I was exhausted. Both physically and mentally, truly. I'd never really studied for anything in my life, and to be thrown into it headfirst by someone like you was definitely…jarring." He cracked a small smile. "But I'd had fun, and I had never felt more prepared about an exam in my life. The Transfiguration test was the first time I got an 'O' on anything at Hogwarts. I still have the study guide you and I made together. I actually brought it with me tonight…" He paused, pulling the faded parchment out of his pocket.

"It's not in the best condition, but I realized pretty quickly that studying in the library with you was something worth doing, and definitely something I enjoyed. So I thought it would make sense to keep some sort of memento from our first study session, and this seemed like the best option.

"Anyway, I was exhausted when I got back to the common room with you, and promptly collapsed on the couch we use all the time nowadays. I thought it would be funny to pretend to fall asleep right in front of you. Clearly you thought it was funny too, because you giggled. Not laughed, but giggled. I'd heard you laugh before, on the Hogwarts Express and a few times after that, but this was the first time you giggled around me.

"Now, any way you laugh is like music to my ears, but hearing you laugh like that was like…the auditory equivalent of cozying up to a fire. I can't really explain it, but it makes my whole body feel all warm and fuzzy. It's such a great sound, when you do that small little laugh, and every now and then I try and coax it out of you to try and make my day.

"After I made you laugh, you started reading next to me on the couch, and after a while you must have thought I'd fallen asleep. But I never did. I heard you get up, and for a moment I thought about calling you back over, because it was nice to have you nearby, hearing the occasional page turn or the different noises you make in your throat while you're reading. But then I felt a blanket flutter over me, and I heard you clamber back onto the couch, curled up in a ball with your book underneath the blanket, and I just knew. I knew you were something special right then and there, Hermione.

"We'd known each other for only a week or two by then, but that was enough time for you to decide that I was worth doing nice things for. Like throwing a blanket over me on the couch, and keeping me company, and helping me study for tests. I know you do those things because you're a nice person, and because you care about me. But you have no idea just how much those small actions mean, Hermione. Nobody in my life had ever been even remotely kind to me like that, until I met you. That's when I knew you were going to be the best friend I'd ever have here at Hogwarts. Or anywhere, really."

Harry sighed, concluding the speech he'd been working on for the entire day. He squeezed Hermione's hand, hoping to return some warmth to the cold, motionless statue that she had become.

"I wish I could stay up here and recount all kinds of happy memories for you, but if not for these extreme circumstances I would have fallen asleep hours ago." He sighed before sliding off the bed. "I'm still not going anywhere, though. I'll be right here." He whispered, giving Hermione's hand one last squeeze. Then, gingerly, he took the study guide from well over a year ago and slid it under Hermione's pillow, just atop the photo album that lay there untouched.

"Well, good night Hermione." He said awkwardly. "I'll be right here." He repeated as he donned his Invisibility Cloak and collapsed into his chair once again.

The Next Night

"Miss me?" Harry smirked as he tiptoed in between the familiar curtains around Hermione's bed. "Thankfully, none of our friends got sent to Azkaban today." He sighed, gently folding the Invisibility Cloak and a dark blue jumper onto the chair before plopping down on the side of Hermione's bed. "See, I bet you'd be rolling your eyes at me if you weren't petrified right now. It's just not the same…" He sighed dramatically before turning back to his best friend.

"So, talking about happy memories the last two nights with you has really done wonders for my mood, so, why not change that formula, right?" He shrugged, placing his hand on Hermione's once again. "I thought I'd skip ahead a bit. Past the troll, because truth be told the memory of you crying in the bathroom isn't a terribly happy one for me.

"I want to talk about the night we smuggled Norbert out of the castle. And then I'll talk about the detention a little bit later, but for now: our super stealth mission." He smirked, and began rubbing circles on the back of Hermione's hand.

"We were on the way back to the castle from Hagrid's hut once we got the dragon. It took all of my concentration to not slip and fall, because Norbert was ridiculously heavy and we had to stay under the Cloak. The whole night was kind of a mess, but looking back it's pretty funny. Anyway, we were on the way back to the castle when you suddenly thanked me for coming to get the troll.

"It was completely out of nowhere, and I honestly had no idea how to react. I thought I could get away with playing it off as a team effort and what-not, but then you said – I'll never forget this, by the way – you said 'You're awfully modest, Harry Potter.'" He grinned at the memory.

"That was the first time you made me blush. I remember being embarrassed because you were catching on that I'd lied about Ron and Neville helping with the troll. But the real reason I was blushing was because of the smirk you had on your face. It sent a whole squadron of butterflies migrating through my stomach. I remember thanking several higher powers that it was almost pitch-dark so I doubt you could have seen my face.

"Anyway, we managed to get to the Astronomy Tower, and then Charlie's friends swooped in and got Norbert out of there. I remember standing there, watching them disappear into the night, when suddenly this wall of force just plowed into me." He let out a small laugh.

"You were so relieved, so happy, and I was too. I remember wrapping my arms around you and staring at the stars above us. For a moment it was like total serenity, and I thought I could have stayed there forever.

"Then…I don't know. I just started thinking about how I was standing on top of the Astronomy Tower, and how I was hugging a girl, and how we were standing under this sea of stars. I got really nervous all of a sudden, and my heart started beating so fast I was certain that you could feel it hammering away.

"But I wasn't nervous because I thought it was wrong, or anything like that." He sighed, squeezing Hermione's hand. "I was just…nervous. It was the most – I don't know the right word – intimate? Maybe just the closest I'd ever felt to somebody. It was new. It was nerve-wracking.

"I thought about pulling away, at the moment. I just didn't know how to act, how to process it." He sighed again, lowering his head. "Now, of course, there's nothing I wouldn't do be hugging you under the stars right now. To feel you squeeze the oxygen out of my lungs. To feel your hair tickling my cheek."

Harry paused, lifting his head to look at Hermione once again. She was perfectly still, her eyes focused straight ahead, blank and unmoving. He pursed his lips as he sat there in silence for a long time, never taking his eyes off of his best friend.

"Of course, we did get caught in the middle of that hug." He chuckled quietly, feeling his mood lift slightly. "We lost a hundred points for Gryffindor that night. All because of a bloody dragon." He grinned. "I don't know about you, but I have no desire to deal with a dragon ever again, after all that.

"Anyway, I brought you something again. I…erm, alright, well now that I think about it it's a bit weird how I went about it. Well, I sort of…I know you have the same jumper you wore that night. I've seen you wear it this year a few times. Not that – like, it's not as if I just stare at your clothes or anything…" Harry buried his face in his hands, feeling his cheeks heat up.

"Blimey, now I kind of hope you can't hear me." He groaned. "Anyway, I asked Lavender to grab it from your things. I've noticed your skin is really cold…honestly I don't know if you can feel cold or not, but I figured it was worth a shot to give you this. I thought…maybe you could wear it like a blanket?" He cringed at his wavering voice. "Right, well, this might be the most embarrassing thing I've ever done." He sighed, slipping off the bed to the chair.

Gingerly, he picked up the blue jumper he'd placed on top of the Invisibility Cloak and unfolded it. He turned back to the bed, and gently laid the sweater over Hermione's torso.

"Well, I hope it at least does something." He whispered, giving Hermione's frozen hand one last squeeze. "I'm going to go to sleep now, Hermione, but I'll be right here." He made himself as comfortable as he could in the chair, enveloping himself in the Invisibility Cloak.

When he woke a few hours later, he carefully took the jumper off of Hermione's unmoving form and folded it up, adding it to the collection of items he'd brought for his best friend underneath her pillow.

The Next Night

"I'm back!" Harry smiled as he ripped his father's cloak off of him, materializing next to Hermione's bed. "I'm sorry I had to take the jumper off, but I didn't want Madam Pomfrey to see it and lose her mind." He smirked, sitting on the edge of her bed once again.

"So, it's really easy to be all sad and gloomy without you during the day. I keep looking at the seat next to me in class, expecting you to be staring at your notes with your eyebrows all scrunched and everything. It sucks." He sighed, feeling a frown manifesting on his face.

"So, I did some logical thinking, which I'm sure makes you very proud, and figured instead of sitting here and moaning about how much I hate not having you around, I'm going to talk about happy things. Every night, just like I have for the past three nights." He grinned, squeezing Hermione's hand affectionately.

"I thought I should tell you about the night we got the Sorcerer's Stone. As much as I hated seeing Voldemort again, and being unconscious for the better part of three days isn't exactly a happy memory, part of that night still ranks very high for me. You can probably guess which part.

"When you handed me the potion, you know, to get me through the fires to get the Stone, I felt so empty inside. Up to that point, I owed everything I'd ever done to you, including not dying in the Forest. We'd been through everything together, and when you told me I had to go on without you it was like you ripped a piece of my heart out. I didn't want to go. I didn't think I could do it without you.

"Then you just crashed into me. It was far and away the fiercest hug you'd given me up to that point. I remember you crying, and I wanted to cry to. I thought for sure that I was going to, until you…well, you know what happened.

"I'm sure that my parents kissed me on the cheek when I was an infant, but I have no memory of that. When you went up on your tiptoes and kissed me on the cheek, I thought for sure that my heart was going to burst. My face got really hot and I thought for a moment that I was just going to melt. I watched you take your antidote and walk through the fire, and I just stood there with my fingers on my cheek for way too long. I forgot about the Stone, and Voldemort, and everything. I'm pretty sure I forgot my own name for a minute." He laughed quietly, shaking his head at the memory.

"Eventually, I wised up. I remembered everything and I forced that potion down and walked through the fires to get to the Stone." He paused, unsure if he should continue. "There's something I haven't told you about that night. After you left, when I was walking through the black flames…" He trailed off, wringing his hands nervously.

"I had this thought race through my head. I don't know where it came from, but it was the last thing I thought before I walked into the chamber with Quirrell and Voldemort. I thought to myself – 'That is not going to be the last time I see Hermione Granger.'" He paused again, returning his hand to Hermione's.

"So…yeah. You're what got me through that fight with Voldemort, I suppose. Even if you weren't there." He concluded, feeling a smile creep across his face. "I still owe it all to you, Hermione."

He sat in silence for a very long time, watching his friend for even the slightest of movements. Nothing. Hermione, the animated girl he'd spent every day with for nearly two years, was now as lively as a rock.

"It's late, Hermione, so I'm going to try and get some sleep. We've got a Transfiguration test tomorrow. I've had to fill in a bit for you, helping our classmates with studying and taking good notes. I don't know how you do it Hermione, I really don't." He chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to Hogwarts, I reckon." He added quietly, unthinkingly.

He raised his eyebrows at himself for saying such a thing, before shrugging. He thought it was true, so there was no point in trying to take it back or anything. He gave Hermione's hand one last squeeze before sliding off her bed onto the ground.

"Oh, I almost forgot…" He paused, just before sitting down in his chair. "I figured it's become a tradition by now that I bring you something every night. Those Mandrakes better be ready soon, or people will be looking under your pillow and thinking you're a hoarder." He smirked to himself, before grabbing what he'd brought off the table.

"I checked this out of the library this afternoon. It's the book you found Nicolas Flamel in, and the Sorcerer's Stone. It's the reason we ever ended up in that Potions chamber in the first place. So, in a way, I guess this book is to blame for you kissing me on the cheek and stuff." He added sheepishly.

"The thing is, this book is more or less a thousand pages, and putting it under your pillow just seems cruel, so, erm, I'm going to put it in this drawer in your bedside table, if that's alright. Hopefully I'll remember it's here when Madam Pince asks me to bring it back." He smirked again. Quietly inching the drawer open, he placed the book inside before sliding it shut once again.

"Good night, Hermione." He whispered, wrapping himself up in the Invisibility Cloak once again and sitting down in his chair. "I'll be right here."

A/N: Hello everybody! Once again, I would like to apologize for my previous author's note. I only meant for it to be bit of light-hearted ribbing, but I now understand how it can be interpreted to mean a plethora of other, less light-hearted things. That was not my intention, but I'm sorry for the damage it may have done. I love you guys, I would never be outright cruel or rude to you all. As Toby Ziegler said, "You're my guys and I'm yours…and there's nothing I wouldn't do for you."

On that note, I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. As I've told many of you, I abhor over-dramatic angst, and I found myself wondering, is there any way I can make Hermione being petrified not super angsty? Well, that's where Lavender Brown comes up clutch. So, I hope you enjoyed some happy reminiscing on Harry's part. I wonder if Hermione can actually hear him…

To each and every one of you brilliant individuals who have left reviews, favorites, and follows on this story, you guys absolutely rock. Thank you all so much for doing so, it sends me over the moon every time! Stay safe!