Disclaimer – I don't own anything. If I did own either HP or U2's "Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For", then I'd be filthy rich.

Chapter 4 (Hermione's POV)

I've seen that look before…

I was fortunate enough to witness it the last time I'd seen my parents sharing a look in the car on the way to the station this year…

I spied the same look in Mr. Weasley's eyes while he was watching his wife putter around the kitchen at the Burrow…

It's the same look that I wish Ron would grow up enough to give me…

I had never, ever thought I would see that look coming from him…

And that is one of the reasons why I can't stand to face Harry right now. I feel terrible for the hurt Ron and I have caused him over the past half year. We'd been distant, and so had he. However, as his friends we should never had let that happen. Ron and I expected it; I mean, who wouldn't shut down after witnessing the closest thing to a father you'd ever had murdered before your very eyes? And that was just at the beginning of the mess that this past summer had turned out to be. But despite all that, I did nothing to help him through it. The reason…I was afraid.

Quite frankly, I was terrified by the sheer ferocity in Harry's eyes the night that Ginny had been possessed. I had heard snippets of stories from other people about this look he gets right before he throws himself into these situations. I had yet to see it. In first year, Harry went through the fire alone. In second year, I was petrified. That time in third year when Harry had confronted Sirius, I had been busy seeing to Ron's injuries. In fourth year, everything was happening away from me. At the Department of Mysteries, I had been incapacitated to early to witness Harry get really intense. That night at the Burrow was the first time I had every seen the change come over him from an outside perspective. To be honest, it scarred the hell out of me.

So, the "Golden Trio" started to drift a bit. I threw myself headfirst into my relationship with Ron. Harry seemed to lose himself in studying, training, the DA, and…Ginny of all people. I don't think I was jealous, per se. I mean, despite that look I know is burning a hole into the back of my head, I still can't really bring myself to think of Harry that way. No, I was more jealous of the position Ginny had taken, because that position had been mine. The two of them had become best friends. She was his new confidant and the one thing I never could bring myself to be…his lover.

I wanted it back. I wanted, selfishly, to be the person he talked to again. At first, I thought close proximity would allow us to slip back into that groove, so I took up studying with him in the library. It really didn't work. We shared pleasantries, of course.

"Hello, Hermione. How are you?"

"Oh, I am fine Harry. And you?"

"Good. Needed a few hours in the library, so that I survive the Potions Exam tomorrow."

"Do you need any help?"

"No thanks, Mione. I can handle it."

And that was that. He'd look back at whatever book he had been reading, in this case a NEWT Potions book, and I would start searching the library isles for a text. There was never anything there, no substance whatsoever. Not in the library, or when we were walking towards our shared classes (I had a few more with Harry then I did with Ron). I tried to ask Ginny, seeing as he was at least talking to her. Every time I did, she gave me the same enigmatic answer. "He'll tell you Hermione, when he is damn good and ready!"

I had originally worried that Harry and I would have to start all over again, at square one. The only problem with that was that I didn't fancy another bathroom encounter with a mountain troll. So, I did the unthinkable and resigned myself to holding in this lurch, just waiting and watching for Harry to make the first move. My new angle of approach started about a month ago.

Harry, it seems, is very busy.

He usually wakes up at around six in the morning and then spends about a half hour in the washroom. He gets to the common room at around 6:35, dressed in sweatpants and a sweatshirt, and from there he goes for a run around the school for an hour. Afterwards, he gets cleaned up again, but this time with a few laps in the Great Lake. A quick change and a hurried breakfast later, he's in his first period class by 9:00. Harry is studying to be an Auror, so his classes reflect that career decision. He is only taking the essentials, which are NEWT Herbology, Transfiguration, Charms, Defense, and Potions (all of which he passed with O's…infuriating). His school day usually ends around 4:00 P.M. Harry then spends about two hours in the common room doing homework or relaxing by the fire, sometimes with Ginny, sometimes with others. From there he disappears for about three hours. I can't say for sure what he is doing, but I think he's training his body and his magic with Dumbledore. After that, on alternating days, he either teaches the DA or has Quidditch practice for a few hours. Harry then takes another hour for homework and another hour walking. He just walks, from one end of the school to the other…over and over again. He only sleeps about four or five hours a night and he seems to thrive where others would be exhausted. I know if I didn't get back to the common room before 1:00 in the morning, then I'd be sluggish. Harry does it all the time, the rules be damned.

That's another thing that has changed about Harry. His disregard for the rules has transformed into something juvenile. In years past, he used to only want to break the rules if it was for a good cause. This year, however, has just been a flagrant affront to any rule anyone tries to set for him. He's attacking Fitch's mandates by staying out 'till all hours and tracking who-knows-what with him on the way in. He's turning a blind eye to Professor Snape's sense of propriety and long standing belief in proper wizarding tradition by wearing just about whatever the hell he wants. Harry has long since abandoned the Hogwart's official uniform. He doesn't even wear his house robes anymore unless to keep warm or to protect himself in a class. If it isn't Muggle, then Harry won't wear it. I find it very funny sometimes. Despite the fact I have been living the real thing for five and a half years, I sill hold on to some of those glamorous fantasies I had about what real wizard's looked like from old fairy tales. One day it may not be too felonious a comparison, but when I look at Harry I see Merlin. A Merlin with dark and unruly hair, Firebolt at his side, glasses glinting in the sunlight, and a Nike logo T-Shirt. But anyway, he's really disappointing Professor McGonagall by losing the house points he has. Harry's more than made up for it on the Quidditch pitch, in the classroom, and by just doing what he does. However, if he wants to do something for himself, then Harry's "damn well going to do it." By the by, that is a direct quote.

So, as made evident, I spent a considerable amount of time (not too much to seem obsessed, but enough to ascertain what I have) following the 'Boy-Who-Never-Stops-Long-Enough-To-Have-A-Serious-Converstaion-With-Ron-And-I'.

It wasn't until about a week ago that anything of real consequence occurred.

It was the night of the Yule Ball. Headmaster Dumbledore had not only reinstated the dance, but also promised it would become an annual tradition. I can only assume that his motives were to increase morale amongst the student body. As a result, many other socials had been planned for occasions such as Valentine's Day, Graduation, Halloween, and so on.

I was awaiting the evening of the dance exuberantly. I had really wanted to go with Ron, and we managed to pull it off without inciting too much suspicion. He had made this overly dramatic display of apologizing for his false step in fourth year, offered to escort me to the dance as a friend, and made his intentions perfectly clear (at least to everyone in the common room).

Harry would be going to the dance with Ginny, whom we all thought was his girlfriend. Her and I had gotten together at a previous Hogsmeade weekend and purchased what we would need for the night. Lavender and Parvati helped us with our hair and makeup, and the four of us lapsed the time with some idle gossip. I hate gossip, but it gave me an opportunity to smother any rumors that would compromise my relationship with Ron and find out more about Ginny and Harry. Unfortunately, Ginny was being just as tight lipped about her and Harry as I was being vocal in refuting Lavender and Parvati's claims about Ron and me.

The most the terrible twosome could pull from her was a furious blush when they had asked her about the status of her virginity. I have to admit, I wasn't quite prepared to hear about that. I don't know if it was jealousy or just an overbearing shock, but something stirred in me for a time.

Harry, Ron, Ginny, and I decided to go as a group. Moreover, the four of us decided to be "fashionably late" as to not attract attention. So we met the guys at the bottom of the Girls' staircase about five minutes before the start of the dance. I must say that Ginny and I looked very lovely, while Harry and Ron looked just as handsome as ever. I may not have felt, or will ever feel, that way about Harry but even I can admit he looks good in a muggle suit (the dance having a fairly liberal dress code, he definitely took advantage of exploiting it). Despite the fact that he may never dress the part, Harry is fully capable of acting just as much a lord of the Houses Potter and Black as any other pureblood. They both were very chivalrous, Harry more so because Ron and I didn't want to give anything away, and lavished us with praise. We then made our way to the Great Hall. We were all hoping that showing up approximately five minutes into the first song, as per my plan, would save us from any unwanted consideration. For once, we caught a break and no one so much as batted an eyelash when we arrived.

We spent a few minutes partaking in the specialized meals that the house elves provided (I, admittedly, with less gusto than my compatriots), and then when spent time with our partners on the dance floor. I spent a few "friendly" dances with Ron and one with Harry. Meanwhile, Harry spent a few much more intimate dances with Ginny and a very nice, I thought, dance with Luna. But then he and Ginny seemed to disappear. At that time, I thought it safe to dance a little closer to Ron, but still far enough away to maintain propriety. By the end of the night however, we shared a very special slow dance. We decided to retire and spend a little "quality" time with one another before the actual end of the dance. Unfortunately, on the way back to the common room I saw a recognizable mane of red hair sharing a deep kiss with another blonde one. Thankfully, it wasn't Malfoy, build was too stocky, like I had assumed. To my astonishment, I recognized the male as Colin Creevey. I had thought he was gay for all the time he spent taking photos of Harry. I didn't know how to approach the situation save for dragging Ron away. He had bent over to tie his shoes and hadn't seen a thing. We made it back to the Fat Lady, and I was starting to look forward to the night ahead again. However, inside the common room I spied Harry in a corner, alone, and listening to what looked like an Extendable Ear attached to some strange contraption. I bid Ron a goodnight, thanked him for a lovely evening, whispered a quick apology about the ruination of our intended tryst, and squared my soldiers. It was about time I had a real conversation with Harry.

He was sitting in his favorite chair, facing the fire at an angle, with his eyes closed. Whatever his ear was plugged into was a very interesting apparatus. A piece of chord ran from his ear to his wand where the string wrapped around the base, attached to the handle. Said wand was suspended upside down; handle to the ceiling and apex towards the ground. The end, or "barrel", was near, to the point of touching, the underside of a regular, everyday muggle CD. If it was a muggle CD, then I was unable to tell who the artist was due to the fact that the label was inverted. Apart from the Extendable ear chord, another, running parallel to the prior, led back towards his hand. And in this hand, his right, a Wizarding Wireless dial lay in the palm. I was just about to awake Harry from his trance when, without even skipping a beat or opening his eyes, he used his left hand to disengage the CD, place it back into its case, pull out an old vinyl record (like the ones I've seen in my father's collection), and set it in motion. A slight scratching reached my own ears and I looked down to see him turning the dial. I looked back to the vinyl and realized that the dial was moving the wand along the surface of the LP. Thusly, I realized that the wand acted as a record needle and the conduit of the sound. I had never seen or heard of anything like this before and in my excitement I almost forgot about my determination to speak with Harry. Quickly, I collected my thoughts, gave my head a shake, and tapped on his shoulder.

He disengaged the Extendables in much the same way that a teenager would a pair of headphones, to the base of his neck and with a slightly aggravated look on his face. Once he realized it was me though, his faced cleared and he offered me a small smile.

"Yes, Hermione?"

"Harry…I was just wondering… (for an instance I lost my nerve) what are you listening to?"

He handed me the "headphones"; I had thought he had misinterpreted me.

"No, Harry. I meant what…"

"I realize that Hermione, but this song is important to me. I'll tell you after you give a listen."

I was hesitant at first. He reassured me, however, with a trusting smile. I placed the Extendables into my ears. I was very happy that I did when I heard U2 sliding over from the other end.

Even though I'm may be straight laced in my studies and in life, I can still appreciate Rock n' Roll. Besides, this was one of my favorite songs.

I have climbed highest mountain
I have run through the fields
Only to be with you
Only to be with you

I have run
I have crawled
I have scaled these city walls
These city walls
Only to be with you

But I still haven't found what I'm looking for
But I still haven't found what I'm looking for

I have kissed honey lips
Felt the healing in her fingertips
It burned like fire
This burning desire

I have spoke with the tongue of angels
I have held the hand of a devil
It was warm in the night
I was cold as a stone

But I still haven't found what I'm looking for
But I still haven't found what I'm looking for

I believe in the kingdom come
Then all the colors will bleed into one
Bleed into one
Well yes I'm still running

You broke the bonds and you
Loosed the chains
Carried the cross
Of my shame
Of my shame
You know I believed it

But I still haven't found what I'm looking for
But I still haven't found what I'm looking for
But I still haven't found what I'm looking for
But I still haven't found what I'm looking for...

I really hated Ginny right then. She had this special guy, who was listening to this great music and undoubtedly thinking of her. For all that was worth, she was off necking with Colin Creevey.

"Ginny is one lucky witch."

Now, hindsight being 20/20 and all, I should have known that the flicker in his eyes was something completely different from what I had taken it for. At the time, I had believed it was some illusion brought on by the shimmer of firelight against his green irises. Really, it was his love, the love I find glaring at me today, jumping up to the surface for a brief moment before being pulled back by its handler. However, I couldn't even comprehend something like that the night of the Ball.

"Harry, you owe me. What is this thing?" I queried, while simultaneously referring to the device the music was coming from and our lack of communication over the past months.

Harry, realizing where this conversation might go, pulled in a great big gulp of air and let it out slowly through his nose. His whole body was tense, his face resigned, and it looked like the last thing he wanted to do was to talk about the machine. He assumed, correctly, that after I asked him what it was I would ask where he had gotten it. After that, a string of questions would follow that would eventually wiggle out of Harry a breakdown of his entire summer.

I didn't want Harry to run, not when we could really talk for the first time in months. Asking him about his summer would most assuredly have him moving in any direction just as long as it was away from me. Accepting that it was too soon, I made an offering.

"Harry, you don't have to tell me about the bad things. I don't need to know about the Dursleys or Number 12. Frankly, none of that is my business. Can't we just talk about some of the good things? Aren't I aloud to just ask you how the better parts of your summer were?"

It wasn't my intention, but about halfway through my dialogue I realized I was pleading. I couldn't help the hurt in my voice, or on my face. Seeing this, Harry unraveled. The muscles in his arm where I had placed my hand went limp. His face cleared, his gaze softened, and he offered me a reassuring smile. Harry took my hand, led me to a couch directly in front of the fire, and began to speak.

"To answer your first question, this thing is something I like to call an Interpreter..."

The "Interpreter", he would eventually tell me, is a device that was originally designed by his mother. Lily Potter had two loves, outside of her family, and they were muggle music and Charms. Being a Charms Mistress, she was always looking for new and inventive ways to reapply them in everyday life. Through the course of the conversation, I learned from Harry that his mother had invented many a household cleaning spell and protective charm in her day, but her opus was the "Interpreter". Working with Filius Flitwick, Lily was able to design the basic schematic for the device and create some of the sustaining magicks that held the apparatus together and suspended in space. Sadly though, Voldemort had ended her life before she was able to finish it.

This is where Harry came in. During the summer, he found the plans for the device and started to bring together a few different people to finish his mother's work. Once again, Professor Flitwick was brought in as a consultant but Harry also contacted Fred and George Weasley. I asked him why, and he explained that even though the twins only received three O.W.L.S each, they were Outstandings in the fields of Potions, Charms, and Transfiguration. The twins supplied the Extendable Ears as "headphones" and the modifications that allowed the Wireless dial to act like a remote control for the "Interpreter". Harry himself had written the Arithmancy equation that allowed the device to be compatible with both compact disc and record vinyl.

At this, I know my mouth was hanging open in shock. He had never taken the course, yet he was able to write a magical numeration complex enough to allow a prototypical magical contraption the ability to be functional on two totally different mediums. Dumbfounded, I asked him how that was possible and he answered me in one word.

"Occlumency."

I requested of him to elaborate. I had no idea how an obscure branch of magic, one he used to have trouble with no doubt, like Occlumency would allow him to swallow five years of magical theory in a scarce few months and then write an equation even I wouldn't of been capable of. He told me.

Supposedly, Professor Snape started Harry's Occlumens training on step 7,436 instead of at the beginning. He was teaching Harry at the level he himself was practicing on, and that is a level that spies and espionage operatives need it. These people not only have to hide important information, but they also have to act like they don't even have it on them during a legilimency scan. Ergo, Snape drilling Harry to completely clear his mind, instead of going over the basics of mental organization and projective protection, was like giving a toddler a twelve-speed with no training wheels. Once Harry learned Occlumency the correct way, he found that it did more for him then just shielding his mind from Voldemort.

Occlumency, it seems, has many fringe benefits. Harry's intellectual capabilities have increased ten-fold. For the last couple of months he has been able to inhale books. Also, he only has to read them once because mental organization brings with it the wonderful addition of a photographic memory. The speed with which the neurons inside his head have been firing has increased, meaning that he recalls the information he has learned much more readily. The synapses connecting the muscles from his body to the motor control center of his brain are even further cemented then they already were resulting in quicker reflexes. Harry is operating on a completely different level due to Occlumency, and I have to admit that I am terribly jealous. So, I asked him if he could teach me. I must have looked like the quintessential bookworm right then because Harry gave me an indulgent smile.

"Occlumency is a very personal magic," he told me. "I'd have to get closer to you than either of us would like. It would be better if you learned on your own." He wordlessly summoned his books to the common room from his dorm. "Here, learn from these. Always remember though that it won't solve all your problems and you shouldn't depend too heavily on it."

Supposedly though, it still isn't a "walk in the park" for him in his special training (I knew that was what he was doing). He can't tell me everything, but he did say that he was working very closely with a Senior Auror, an Unspeakable, a retired Hit Wizard, and Professor Dumbledore. Also, he is working with a squib Martial Artist for physical combat and weapons training. I can only assume that he has spoken with a consultant from Her Royal Military in regards to tactics. He has made a few changes in regards to the way the DA is organized, breaking us down into platoons with ranks and such.

I had so many more questions; I probably could have kept him up the rest of the night talking about it. However, it was at that moment that Ginny Weasley strutted through the common room portrait. Her hair was mussed, her makeup ruined, and her lips were so swollen that you'd have to be an idiot not to know that she had been snogging. I should have been watching Harry's reaction more carefully, if I had I would have seen a carefree smile on his face, but I was to busy starring daggers at the daft female in front of us. He got up from the couch, strolled over to Ginny, and gave her a kiss on the forehead. I was shocked, but not surprised enough to hide the anger on my face, and he only increased my bewilderment by giving the girl a knowing smile and asking, "Did you have a good time?"

Ginny couldn't answer; she was gapping, frightened even, at me. Harry, not expecting a lack of answer, looked back at me. I guess I was still infuriated. He glanced back and forth between the two of us a few more times and then announced that he was off to bed. The only justification for this was that he felt it was time that Ginny and I had a chat.

So we did. I put up a privacy charm and started to let her have it. I am sure I used a myriad of insulting epithets, but Ginny took every single one of them on the chin and let me vent. By the end of my rant, I realized I was being very hypocritical. I too had been lying to Harry for months about the relationship between Ron and me, but I didn't let that slow my roll. I must have pushed a very touchy button with my last remark.

"I can't believe you Ginny! You have been waiting to be with him for years and he has put himself in front of danger for you countless times. I just guess that the feeling of Harry's love isn't enough for a scarlet woman like you!"

I don't think I will ever be more scarred of a woman in my entire life as I was at that moment. Her entire face flushed with anger while she marched up to me to slap me in the face. To say that I was simply stunned would be an understatement. Before I could regain my bearings, though, she was laying into me.

"You bitch! You have no idea how bad I wish the feeling of Harry's love was enough. But the fact of the matter is I can't feel Harry's love!" I must have looked confused; she elaborated. "I don't feel it, Hermione! Whatever Voldemort did to me, to us, left it so that we can't really feel each other." I think I still looked strange; she kept talking. "I wish more than anything that our love could be more, but it can never be. We treat one another as siblings, and Harry covers for me when I try to be with other guys because that brother of mine, the one you have been fucking behind Harry's back, won't let me be any other way!"

The fact that she knew our secret did not shake me. I wanted to know to much more about her and Harry to really care.

"But I have seen the two of you. You hang off each other all the time."

"Gods Hermione, for someone so perceptive you sure missed the boat on this one. It is all apart of the act!" She continued a little more quietly this time. "Also, Harry needs the affection that you aren't willing to give him anymore."

I could barely respond. "Wha…w-what do you mean…"

"Oh come on Hermione. Before you got with Ron you used to touch Harry all the time. Nothing serious, I agree, but you always used to hug him or touch him or give all you attention to him when he needed it. You never did it to the level that I do it, but it was there. It isn't there anymore and, considering this summer, Harry needs it now more than ever."

I couldn't find my voice then, and I can't find my voice now. Back in the present, for the first time in six months, I focus all of my attention on Harry. I am thinking of nothing else but him, not Ron or anyone else, just him.

"I…I am sorry Harry."

"Don't! Please don't do that Hermione. I really couldn't stand your pity right now. Just…just go get Ron so I can say my peace and leave."

"What do you mean by 'leave', Harry?"

"The sooner you bring Ron down, the sooner you'll have your answer Hermione."

I turned around, and started walking up to get the third member of our group. As I make my way to the dormitory, all think about is what did Harry mean by "leave".

A/N: Sorry 'bout the wait. I might move a little faster next time. Tune in next time for Harry2.