Hermione
September 1997
Grimmauld Place
Down a narrow hall of the downstairs corridor at Grimmauld place, Hermione saw the faint glow of a light bulb emanating from the kitchen. It was Harry; she could conclude that much. He was missing from the room that her, Ron, and him shared ever since they had gone on the run.
Hermione's steps were light as she made her way to the kitchen. She tried to stay as silent as possible to not wake the Black Family Portraits. Ever since they learned she was muggle born, they have taken to screaming obscenities towards her whenever they sensed that she was in the hallowed halls of pureblood royalty.
As she walked into the kitchen, Harry looked up warily from a piece of parchment that he was leaning over. Nearly every inch of the table was covered in documents, books, and papers.
Harry gave a half hearted smile as she entered.. It was almost 2am and Hermione could see that Harry carried the weight of the wizarding world on his shoulders. Hermione made her way to the kettle.
"Can I get you some tea?" Hermione asked, turning on the faucet and filling the kettle to the brim.
He rubbed his hands over his face tiredly, "yeah, that would be great actually."
Placing two bags of chamomile into mugs, Hermione quickly heated the kettle to a boil with a wordless spell from her wand, poured the steaming water over the bags and brought them to the table, finding two spots not covered with books and papers to rest the mugs.
"You haven't been sleeping well," Hermione remarked, blowing on her tea as it steeped.
"Neither have you," Harry replied, with a sad smile. She nodded.
Everything had been a whirlwind since the moment she erased her parent's memory. Making it to the Borrow after the heart shattering act was easy enough, seeing as though she was not being tracked yet. Once at the Burrow, she worked with the Order planning Harry's extraction, and then came up with a new plan once the initial plan had been leaked. Carrying out that plan, although successful, was a sobering realization for the fight ahead. Mad Eye's death was the price paid for getting Harry out.
The loss of Moody was breaking Harry down. He didn't want anyone to die for him; but he needed to understand, Hermione kept trying to make him understand, that it was for something bigger than just him. It was for a better world.
Once the ministry fell, the trio came to Grimmauld Place, albeit after a brief pit stop of nearly being caught on the streets of London by Death Eaters. It had been their home ever sense; their headquarters for their resistances.
Blinking, Hermione refocused on Harry; on the present.
"Well we'll have to figure out a way to sleep. We can't keep this up," Hermione said pragmatically, pulling her tea bag from the mug and setting it on an empty plate scattered among the papers. Harry did the same.
Hermione looked up to see Harry watching her in an uncertain way. She rose a brow in response.
"You and Ron…" Harry started, rubbing his neck slightly. Hermione reddened. "You two seem to be getting close again"
She nervously cleared her throat. "Of course we're close, we're best friends…"
Harry gave her a knowing glance. Her head fell in acceptance.
"I had always suspected it, but after last year…" Harry began, still appearing wildly uncomfortable at the topic he initiated. "It seems, different now. After everything"
This caught Hermione off guard. "Different how?"
Harry avoided Hermione's eyes. "Well, you seem, less attached to him. If that makes sense."
She considered Harry's words. It was true that her and Ron had recently rekindled something from the previous year, but that could be in large part due to the constant interpersonal contact since going on the run. At night Hermione and Ron always slept next to each other, and on more than one occasion she woke to see that he had moved closer, or she had reached out in her sleep and apparently took his hand. Nothing had progressed beyond those little moments. And if Hermione was being honest with herself, she wasn't sure she wanted it to.
"So much has changed," Hermione sighed, taking a careful sip. "I love Ron, of course I do. But, yes it is different."
"What do you think changed?" Harry asked in a watchful manner, paying close attention to Hermoine's reactions.
It was hard for her to be certain. At the start of year six, she would have died of happiness to know she and Ron were sleeping side by side in a darkened room, finding comfort in each other. Now, the spark she assumed would catch fire fizzled.
"Perhaps it was all of that nonsense with Lavender last year," Hermione shrugged. "It made me reevaluate things."
Harry nodded, glancing periodically at Hermione.
"I don't know, it's all so hard to be sure of now," she exhaled, setting her mug down with a thud.
"Now what?" Harry looked up cautiously.
Hermione held his look. "Now that we're on the run. We're at war."
"Ah, yes," Harry replied, letting his shoulders relax. Hermione stared at him.
"What aren't you saying?"
His eyes fixed onto a point in the table and shrugged.
"Harry…" Hermione continued, more sternly.
"It's just, last year…" Harry started uncertainly. "You seemed to get closer to Malfoy"
Hermione coughed. She looked at Harry who was now looking at her with a soft but penetrating stare.
"We never talked about it but, did anything happen?"
Hermione wrapped her arms around herself, rubbing small blotches of red on her arm gently, soothing herself.
"Harry where is this coming from?" Hermione questioned nervously.
"It just seemed like after all those detentions with Malfoy, that things changed with you and Ron." Harry reasoned, now fixing his eyes on Hermione, as if he was searching for some type of reaction.
"Me and Ron drifting apart was completely Ron's fault," Hermione huffed, letting her anger at Ron quell the odd anxiety that gnawed at Hermione with the mention of Malfoy. "You saw how he was with Lavender even after I asked him to be my date to the Slugclub party!" Her voice was strained but quiet, making an effort not to rouse the person she was yelling about.
Harry nodded, but pushed his point. "But you did get closer to Malfoy last year, didn't you?"
Hermione felt uncomfortable again and the pricks of itchy hives reared at her forearms. "I saw another side of him, yes that is true."
"Did you feel anything for him?" Harry asked abruptly.
Hermione's instinct was to protest, but she paused. Malfoy was a deeply talented wizard, only made more appealing by his tall stature, lean muscular build, his distinct blonde hair, and those piercing blue eyes.
She felt her breath catch.
"Yes," Hermione said plainly, surrendering to the embarrassment that crept into her cheeks. "But you were right all along Harry. I was wrong. He was a Death Eater even though I was certain he wasn't. Anything I may have felt died then."
Harry nodded solemnly. Hermione continued on her thought.
"I don't think Malfoy would effect how I currently feel about Ron though," Hermione reasoned, now standing and pacing by the table. "We're at war. The circumstances have changed. That's why it's different between Ron and I."
Again, Harry nodded, still monitoring Hermione, leaving space in conversation for her to keep going.
"You're being quite flippant about me having felt something for Malfoy, Harry," Hermione noted, trying to change the subject. "Malfoy has always been your mortal enemy."
Harry bobbed his shoulders. "I suppose the rivalry seems trivial now"
Hermione took a breath in, and sighed it out.
"We're all changing" Hermione spoke, softly, almost to herself. "Sometimes I wish I could still feel the things I did a year ago. But we made a choice to fight this war, and because of that, there are parts of us that may never be the same."
"Every year I look back and wish it could be as simple as it was the year before," Harry laughed sadly. "I'd take a Basilisk over this any day"
Hermione chuckled letting her head tilt side to side, loosening the recently built tension in her neck.
A few quiet moments passed before Hermione spoke again.
"Do you think we can make a conscious choice to change? As people…" Hermione asked, her eyes focusing on Harry's. "Or do you think it just happens? Like it's the environment around us and it's all out of our control?"
Harry considered it for a moment. "I don't think change just happens. I think especially with hard choices, once it's made, there's no looking back. But you do have to make it. Then, everything begins to adapt around you."
Hermione started to mindlessly toy with her locket that rested outside her night shirt.
"I mean take RAB for instance," Harry added, "he made a choice to go against Voldemort and find his horcrux. Something must have flipped in him to do that."
"Malfoy never changed…" Hermonie scoffed, looking over to Harry. She was taken aback by how serious Harry reacted to her comment. "I mean, he was a pureblood destined to join Voldemort, and he did."
Harry looked solemn before speaking. "Hermione, you've said before that you don't blame Kreacher for how awful he is to you."
Her eyes narrowed. "That's because it's all he knows."
Harry held Hermoine's cautious eyes. "How is that any different from Malfoy?"
She opened her mouth to retort, but nothing came out. Her features scrunched together in absolute confusion. Why on Merlin's green earth would Harry be defending Malfoy?
Suddenly, a loud crack at the center of the kitchen and a melee of bodies; two tiny ones and one large one to be exact.
"Kreacher has found Mundungus," Kreacher growled, holding onto the leg of a sleazy, unkempt looking wizard which could only be Mundungus Fletcher.
"Dobby helped find Mundungus as well!" Dobby chimed in, his tiny body flailing in attempts to hold onto Mundungus' neck and shoulders, like he was riding a mechanical bull.
Hermione and Harry turned to each other in excitement, the remnants of their recent conversation washing away in an instant.
"I'll go wake Ron!" Hermione shouted over her shoulder, already on her way to wake him.