It would not stand. Hermione had been patient. Extremely patient even, but it had been two weeks since she had asked Ron to talk to Harry and her redheaded friend still said that he 'hadn't had time' to speak to his best mate.

At this rate you can be pretty sure that he'll show up in another week and simply tell me that Harry didn't want to talk about it and that I should stop digging. Well, I'll just show him! I'll figure this out myself.

Hermione waited until the boys had one of their quidditch practices and snuck up into their dorm. She had chosen a moment when the other three Gryffindor sixth-year boys were nowhere to be seen so that she could have some privacy while she… investigated.

The first thing that she noticed upon entering the boys dorm was that it was differently messy than her own. While Hermione was conscientious about putting everything away if she wasn't using it, her dorm-mates had no problem leaving everything strewn around. Hermione was already learning that while both boys and girls apparently left their clothes everywhere, there were more prank items, games and sports paraphernalia lying around in a boys room than make up and magazines.

The smell was different too, though it was difficult to describe exactly how. Hermione also wasn't sure that describing the exact difference in smell between the two rooms was an endeavour that she wouldn't regret. Looking around she made her way for the neatest area in the dorm.

Her first reason was that Harry had struck her as more organised than his dorm-mates as she observed them over the past few weeks, but more than that, Hermione just couldn't bring herself to approach the messier beds. The one to the right of the one she had set her sights on even had chocolate bars lying in among the bedsheets and what she hoped were smears of melted chocolate visible around them.

Hermione used her wand to poke the sheets of the neat bed aside a little and breathed out a sigh of relief as she realised that her observations had paid off. Lying next to the pillow was the journal she had given Harry for Christmas.

She sat down on his bed, trying to ignore the way her imagination threw up the hypothetical of having found the book in its dirty neighbour. Forcing that image out of her mind, Hermione opened the book. The first thing she saw was the card she had included with her gift.

It sent a wave of guilt sweeping through her as her conscience screamed about the kind of violation of privacy she was about to commit against someone who clearly treasured her gift to him. Turning another page, Hermione began to read.

Harry's handwriting was messy and he had scratched out words here and there, but within a page Hermione knew that she was reading an account of his time at Hogwarts. Logically, that would mean that if I go ahead several pages, I should be able to find a description of what he did.

Hermione's hands wouldn't obey her though. Now that she had started reading, she had to follow the story. She knew that some people started by reading the last chapter of a book to make sure that they'd like the ending, but had never been able to do that herself. How could you know if the ending is any good if you don't know what lead up to it?

Perhaps understanding what Harry went through will help me understand why he chose to do whatever he did. Understanding Harry's decision was at least as important as understanding what it was he had actually done.

So Hermione read. She read about Harry and Ron facing a troll, smuggling a dragon and taking on a professor possessed by an undead Dark Lord. She read about the Chamber of Secrets and Slytherin's Monster. She read about Sirius Black, dementors and time travel. She read about a tournament to the death and the darkest ritual she had ever even heard of. She was reading about Ministry oppression and an underground resistance when the latch on the door being wriggled free from its nest drew her out of the world she had sunk into.

Someone's coming! I have to hide!

Hermione looked around, hoping that a hiding place would present itself and went with the first thing that popped into her mind: she dropped to the floor and rolled under the bed just as the door was opening.

Hermione lay under the bed trying not to breathe audibly as she gave thanks that the centuries old doors sometimes jammed. If they had swung open as easily as the ones in her parents' house, she would have been caught before she'd have even known what was happening.

Peering through a gap between the sheets and the floor, Hermione saw two pairs of feet moving between the beds, crimson robes brushing over boots. Quidditch robes. Ron and Harry are back.

Hermione became uncomfortably aware of the fact that she was still clutching Harry's journal. As quietly as she could, she placed it on the flagstones somewhere above her head as if that would keep Harry from realising she'd read it if he should find her.

"Harry?" she heard Ron ask. She watched one pair of feet next to the bed come to a halt and turn around.

"What's up, Ron?"

"Look, I need to ask you something." Ron hesitated before ploughing ahead. "What did you do that made Pomfrey say it was stupid longshot or whatever?"

Hermione screamed into her mind as an awkward silence descended over the dorm. That is not what she said, Ronald! Oh, why did I ask him to be my messenger?!

"Pomfrey told you I took a stupid longshot?" Harry eventually asked in an uncertain tone.

"Nah, I'm not in to see her quite as often as you are so we don't talk much," Ron joked, getting an amused snort from his roommate that quickly led to more awkward silence. "It's Hermione. Pomfrey said something to her and now she's on the warpath… well, the research path, but for Hermione that might as well be the same thing."

Thank you for that kind description, the hidden witch thought sarcastically. Couldn't you be the least bit subtle about this? Hermione knew that she had suggested as much to him as an excuse for Harry, but it hurt more than she would have thought to actually hear it.

The bedsprings creaked above Hermione's head, telling her that Harry had sat down. She heard him gust out a sigh and found that she could imagine him running his hand through his unruly hair like she'd noticed he tended to do when he was unsure how to handle something.

"How bad is it?" Harry asked, clearly trying to weigh up whether he should answer or not.

"I don't rightly know, mate. Hermione can get really bit into something. She did promise that if you decided not to answer she'll drop it."

"Really?" Harry asked sceptically. "No more digging at all?"

Ron was quiet for a minute and then groaned. "She promised not to ask either one of us anymore. Should've seen that one at the time."

"Can't be helped now, mate." Harry at least sounded amused. The amusement leaked out of his voice for the next sentence though. "I just don't know what she'll end up doing if you don't bring her something. It'd be bad if she endangered herself over this."

"Endangered?" Ron repeated incredulously. "Just what have you been up to this year, mate?"

"It was last year… technically."

Hermione wanted to groan. That probably means that he's up to even more things this year. At that moment she hated the part of her that immediately wanted to know everything about what Harry was doing. She knew how much it could put people off. In fact, it's probably at least half the reason I don't have any friends aside from Ron and maybe Ginny. It's the reason I'm here risking my friendship with Harry.

"So what happened?" Ron asked, a flop and protesting bedsprings telling her that her friend chosen to sit down on his own bed with his usual grace.

Harry was quiet for a long moment. "You remember at the end of last year? Hermione was in the hospital wing because Riddle- Voldemort, had taken, well, in a sense everything, from her and nothing anyone did was helping even a little?"

"I remember. Did Dumbledore tell you about it?"

"Not-… not quite." That grief and pain that Hermione could sometimes hear in her teacher's voice was back. "It's not really important. The important bit is that she got hurt because of me; because I wasn't good enough to stop him."

Oh, Harry.

"I'm sure Hermione would say that it wasn't your fault," Ron tried, sounding as sensitive as Hermione had ever heard him.

"Doesn't matter," Harry replied. "It felt like it was."

It still does. He thinks that it was all his fault. Hermione couldn't put her finger on why she was so sure about that. I'll have to think very carefully about how I can get him to move past that.

"Anyway, I decided I should do something to help and I had the Headmaster's personal library at my disposal. One day I was looking through a book on healing and right at the end it said that if you were desperate, you could try summoning a fae to-"

"No!" Ron exclaimed. "Harry, tell me you didn't."

"Ron, what-?"

"You never, ever call a fae! Never!" Ron fretted. Hermione could just make out a pair of feet pacing between the two beds. "They trick people. They always make you pay a price that keeps you from what you really want to have when you ask them for something." The feet came to a halt in front of Harry. "Tell me you didn't, Harry," Ron demanded more quietly but no less desperately.

Hermione found herself holding her breath as understanding of what had Ron so worried began to filter down into her consciousness. It was the same reason that Madame Pomfrey hadn't wanted to tell her anything if Harry hadn't. It would appear that her teacher had risked something close to his life to help someone he had barely known at the time.

"You know, it took me forever to even find a book that would tell me what a fae was. I had no idea you knew about them." It sounded like Harry was trying to distract Ron.

"Everyone knows about them, Harry, and that you don't get involved with them. Now answer the question."

"Nothing was working, Ron," Harry said quietly.

Hermione was biting her fist, fighting against that empty hoarseness at the back of her throat and the burning of her eyes that warned of emotions that were getting close to spilling over.

"But-" Ron tried.

"Nothing," Harry interrupted him implacably.

"So you summoned a fae and asked it to heal Hermione?"

"Pretty much. It made me choose between unlocking her mind or returning the memories she'd lost. I figured if her mind was free Hermione would take care of the rest."

Harry spoke so calmly, so matter-of-factly, that Hermione felt a tendril of hope that, despite that grief she had heard in Harry's voice only moments before, Ron had exaggerated the dangers of the fae.

"And the price?" Ron asked.

"I can't tell you. That's part of it." Grief cracked through the calm in Harry's voice like a whale breaching the ocean's surface, stealing away any chance that Ron had been exaggerating the danger of dealing with the fae in any way.

Hermione felt the first tears rolling down her cheeks and she desperately fought to keep her sobs silent.

"Ron, do you hear that?"

Stop it. Stop it! You can't let them find you.

"Hear what? Don't try to change the subject on me, Harry."

"Shh."

Hermione tried holding her breath, anything to keep Harry from finding her. A small hiccup slipped past her clenched lips despite her best efforts.

There was a rustle of robes and the blankets hanging over the edge of the bed were flipped up to reveal a pair of intense green eyes that locked her in place. "Hermione?!"

The shock, bordering on betrayal, she heard in his voice sent Hermione over the edge. Her body convulsed as the sobs she had fought to restrain broke free. The only other reaction her body had was flight. She rolled out from under the bed on the other side and sprinted for the door.

"Hermione?!"

"Hermione, wait!"

She ignored the boys' calls and flew down the stairs. Her vision was blurred with tears and she was trusting to luck as much as anything to ensure that she didn't fall. As soon as her foot hit the floor of the common room, Hermione dove for the stairs to the girls dorms. She ran until she reached her bed, collapsing on it and letting her lungs jolt her body around as they tried to suck in the air they'd been denied between the running and the crying.

What do I do? What do I do? The question kept racing through her mind. Tears were still leaking from her eyes even as her breathing was slowly returning to a more normal rhythm. Maybe I should sleep on it and things will be clearer in the morning. Hermione couldn't deny that even in the privacy of her own mind that sounded less than convincing. Why did I have to give in to curiosity? I just hope the boys don't hate me.

:-:-:-:-:

"Bloody hell," Ron panted out, staring up the staircase to the girls' dorms. "Did you know she was that fast?"

"Surprised me too," Harry said with a shrug. "Doesn't look like she'll be down anytime soon either, so we might as well head back up ourselves. No point in standing around like Crabbe and Goyle in the library."

"Give us a second. Need to catch my breath," Ron wheezed. "How are you not out of breath anyways?"

"Training," Harry replied with a slight grin, heading towards the stairs.

"Oi! Wait up!"

The two boys climbed the stairs doing their best to ignore the profoundly curious expressions aimed at them from the rest of the house. Back in their dorm, they took up the positions they had been in when they had been interrupted, each sitting on his own bed.

"So? What are you going to do?" Ron asked.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"You have a lesson with Hermione tomorrow, don't you? What are you going to do about it?"

"Teach her? You know, if she even shows up. She looked pretty upset."

Ron stared at him open-mouthed. "Harry, mate-…" he trailed off and shook his head. "What's up with you? Hermione just broke into our dorm, hid under your bed and you're focused on how she feels about it."

"Well, she was crying. That can't be good."

"Sure, maybe it isn't, but how do you feel about it, Harry? How do you feel about her invading your privacy? If she does show up tomorrow, and we're talking about Hermione and a lesson, so she jolly well might, are you really going to be able to pretend like tonight didn't happen?"

"I guess," Harry said with a shrug, running his hand through his hair. "I can't just stop teaching her because she broke a school rule. I mean, how often would we have been kicked out of classes if that was the case?"

The way Ron was looking at him made Harry think that he was being considered an idiot and a lost cause. "Harry, will you do me a favour?"

"Probably. What do you need?"

"If Hermione shows up tomorrow and you don't feel any kind of angry towards her for what happened here tonight, just ask her out to Hogsmeade already."

For a moment Harry was sure he had misheard. "You want me to ask out Hermione? On a date?"

Ron gusted out a sigh and rubbed at his face. "Mate, if anyone had done what she just did, I'd be furious. Hell, I am furious with her. Next time I see Hermione, I'm damn well letting her know that it's not on to go through someone's things just because you think they might be keeping a secret from you. You haven't so much as frowned about the whole thing. Either you have no sense of your own privacy or you're unwilling to get angry because it's Hermione."

"I-…" Harry didn't know how to continue the sentence and ended up just staring at Ron.

"Just- just think about it, okay? At least try to figure out why you're reacting the way you are, because trust me, it does say something."

Harry could only sit there, stunned, as Ron got into bed and pulled the hangings closed. That's- I'm not weird for not being angry at Hermione… right?

Something about Ron's frustration was making Harry question his own thought. It took him a long time to fall asleep that night.

:-:-:-:-:

Hermione woke the next morning and stretched her arms out over her head, enjoying the not-quite-an-ache of her muscles waking up until memories of the night before flooded back in and lodged her stomach firmly around her ankles.

What am I going to do? As it turned out, a good night's sleep hadn't brought her any clarity on the matter. I could avoid him, or try to at least, but what would I do about Defence? If Professor Dumbledore hasn't been able to find anyone to take over from Harry, then avoiding him would mean giving up on that class.

It said something that Hermione seriously considered giving up one of her classes for a moment. In the end there was nothing for it though. If I don't study Defence, it'll just be a matter of time before someone like You Know Who comes along and does something permanent to me-… something permanent that Harry can't fix by summoning something incredibly dangerous.

The last thought choked her up all over again, but also hardened her resolve. I'm going to our lesson. There's too much I want to ask him. Besides, it seems I owe Harry a 'thank you' at the very least. Trying to move her mind past the memories of the night before, lest she begin questioning her newfound resolve, Hermione threw back the covers, located her slippers and headed into the showers to start what was already shaping up to be one heck of a day.

She managed to get to breakfast and eat before either Ron or Harry showed up, giving her a chance to escape to the library until the time came for her to head up to the Room of Requirement. The closer that moment came, the more aware Hermione became of her own heartbeat and breathing.

Eventually she couldn't delay any longer and gathered up her things. The walk up to the Room seemed longer than it ever had before. For some reason that didn't stop that bloody tapestry from showing up in front of her sooner than it ever had before.

I don't think I've been this nervous about a Defence lesson since my first one. As soon as her consciousness had made that particular association, the memory of being led here, her hand in Harry's larger one, filled Hermione's mind. The heat rising in her cheeks told her that her face was probably turning red.

Come on, old girl. You can do this she thought to herself, trying to dispel that warmth in her face by taking a few deep breaths. Feeling a bit more in control, she pushed open the door and stepped into the Room.

The room was set up as it had been when she had confided her worries about Slughorn's party and Hermione could see that Harry was sitting in one of the comfy chairs that appeared when they were talking instead of studying. He looked up as she entered and a slight frown formed on his brow.

"I'm sorry!" Hermione blurted out before he could say anything. "I shouldn't have snuck into your room and I shouldn't have eavesdropped on your conversation."

Harry stayed quiet for a moment. He might have been trying to process her words or restraining his temper or even thinking about something else entirely. "Were you there because you'd gotten impatient waiting for Ron to talk to me?" he finally asked.

Hermione felt a twinge of embarrassment that she'd been seen through so easily. "Yes," she admitted.

"Did our conversation answer all your questions?"

Hermione bit her lip to prevent her curiosity from pushing its luck.

"I'll take that as a 'no'," Harry said, sounding torn between amusement and resignation. "Why don't you sit down? I don't think you'll be up for a lesson until we work this out anyway."

The words hurt. Hermione had never been considered unready to learn before and now knew that she hated it. She sat down across from Harry hoping that he could get her past this; or at least that she could convince him that she was ready for class to begin now that it looked like he might not throw her out.

A tense silence stretched between them. "Hermione?"

She jolted up and blurted out "yes?!"

"I just want to know what's bothering you," Harry said, clearly trying to soothe her. "If there's something I can do to help, I will."

"Why aren't you more upset with me?" Hermione hadn't meant for the question to sound quite as accusing as it did, but the words were already out of her mouth and there was nothing she could do about it.

"Well, it's not like I really have a leg to stand on telling anyone off for being somewhere they shouldn't be because they got curious," Harry chuckled. "Now, what did you originally want to know?"

Hermione had to look away from those twinkling eyes. She couldn't focus while he was looking at her like that. Lowering her head, she took a shuddering breath. "I-… the reason I'm healed is really that you made a deal with this fae?"

"The Oak King," Harry confirmed.

"Why?!" Hermione demanded, her face coming up so that she could more easily study his expressions.

"I can't tell you," he replied sadly. "Like I told Ron, it's part of the price."

"Is there any way for me to pay that price?"

"No," Harry said sadly. "No, I made the wish and the price was tailored to me."

Harry was looking at her so mournfully that Hermione worried she might cry again. "But-… but-…" She felt horribly out of her depth; an unfamiliar feeling to say the least.

Harry reached out and took her hand. "Hermione, I've trespassed beyond the limits on this thing once before. The results are not something I'd put you through."

Hermione tried to keep the words from bursting out, but couldn't. "But why?!"

"Why?" Harry repeated, sounding like he wasn't sure what she meant.

"Yes, why!" Hermione's frustration boiled over. "Why do you care so much for me? Why are you willing to go so far for me? Why didn't you just tell me that I needed to shape up and stop wasting your time, or kick me out, or-… or anything rather than sitting me down like this?"

Harry looked completely bowled over at her outburst. "Do I need a reason?" he asked.

"People generally have a reason for doing things, Harry."

His face sank into a thoughtful frown for a few moments before he shrugged. "I don't like it when you're hurt."

Hermione resisted the urge to groan. "Harry, that's just more of the same. I want to know why you feel that way."

Harry looked at her helplessly. "I don't think there is an answer to that, Hermione. Not one you'll find satisfying, anyway." He squeezed the hand he was holding. "I don't like it when you're hurt. I want you to be happy, because seeing you smile makes me happy." He shrugged again, a small smile playing on his lips. "I like watching you study. I like hearing you talk about the newest book you've read or the newest thing you've learned. I'd miss you if you weren't here. That's all I really know and… I don't know. It's enough for me."

"Enough to pay a price that you're still suffering from? I hear it in your voice every time it comes up, Harry. Helping me really hurt you."

"It doesn't hurt as much as it used to."

"And that's enough?" Hermione wondered.

There was a hint of sadness in Harry's eyes, but overall his expression was one of serene acceptance. "Yeah. Right here and now, that'll do me."

"But-…" Hermione wasn't sure what she was trying to protest.

Harry's smile grew and Hermione had to admit that it gave her a sliver of understanding regarding what he'd said earlier. It was nice to see him smile like that, even in the midst of her tumultuous thoughts. "Hermione, I want to try something Ron told me to, okay?"

She nodded.

"Will you go to Hogsmeade with me?"

Hermione blinked. "You mean-"

"I mean you and me together," Harry cut her off gently. "I mean that I'd like to spend time with you outside of this room."

"And Ron suggested this?"

"Surprised me too."

Hermione marvelled at the situation she found herself in. She wasn't entirely sure, but she thought that she might be getting asked out on a date. As she stared at him though, Hermione began to think that maybe it didn't matter whether Harry had meant it as a date or not. Harry said he wants to spend time with me. Do I want to spend time with him?

"Yes."

"Yes, you'll come with me?"

"Yes, I'll come with you. Spending some time together sounds… lovely."

The smile on Harry's face stretched into a grin. "Excellent."

Hermione felt her own lips quirk up and stretch in an answering smile. There was an indescribably light feeling in her chest, just this side of giddy.

Harry's smile turned slightly mischievous and Hermione knew she was about to get teased. "So, do you need some time to think about why you said yes?"

To her surprise, Hermione felt that she could answer with complete honesty: "no. No, I think that maybe I was wrong before. I don't need to know the exact reason. This makes me happy and that's, um, right here and now that'll do me, was it?"

Harry chuckling made her feel like she'd achieved something she'd never even dreamed of at primary school. "Good to hear. Today is not a Hogsmeade weekend though. Want to get some studying in?"

"Yes, Professor," Hermione answered, her smile stretching just a little wider as Harry rolled his eyes at her like he did every time she called him 'professor'. For some reason it made her want to giggle this time.

It turned out to be one of the least productive classes Hermione had ever attended. She regularly lost her train of thought as she looked at Harry and she even got two questions wrong when Harry asked them. The only thing that kept her mood from plummeting was that Harry's cheeks occasionally coloured a little and he would shift his gaze forcefully away from her.

It was also one of the shortest classes Hermione had ever attended. After only an hour, Harry called a halt. "I think we should end it here for now, Hermione. I- I'm not really focused right for this today."

"That's okay," Hermione rushed to reassure him, secretly grateful that she hadn't had to admit to being just as distracted. "Why don't we just head to the common room and, um, talk for a bit?"

Harry's smile lit up his face. "That sounds perfect."

The two packed up their things and headed out. Hermione noticed that Harry seemed to be sneaking glances at her out of the corner of his eye. At least, she saw his eyes snapping forward to avoid her gaze every time she snuck a look of her own.

When Harry gave the password to the Fat Lady, Hermione felt a sudden surge of nervousness. I wonder if people will notice that we're coming back together. They had returned from classes together before, but now that they had agreed to go to Hogsmeade together a part of Hermione thought that their new connection would be obvious to anyone watching.

Stepping inside the common room, Hermione tried to work out whether there were more eyes on Harry's entrance than usual. She hadn't come to a definite conclusion when she heard someone calling her name.

"Oi! Hermione! I've got a bone to pick with you!"

Hermione gulped as Ron came marching over, his face set in a scowl. Oh no! I forgot that just because Harry was so forgiving it doesn't mean that Ron will be too. Without consciously thinking about it, she took a step behind Harry, using that solid presence as a shield.

Ron came to a stop in front of them and looked from one to the other. His hand clapped his face and dragged down it leaving an expression that was torn between aggravation and amusement. "You didn't?"

"I took your advice, mate. She said 'yes'." Harry told him, a clear note of pride in his voice.

Ron shook his head. "I don't flippin' believe it. Fine. Hermione, I owe you one bollocking, but I'm not ruining this mood, whatever it is." Then he punched Harry in the shoulder. "You treat her right, Potter, or I'm sicking Fred and George on you."

Harry just laughed. It was a happier sound than Hermione had ever heard from him. She stepped out of his shadow and bumped his shoulder with her own. She was rewarded with a pair of sparkling green eyes meeting her own. Yes, I really do like seeing you smile. "So? Conversation?"

"Sounds excellent."

"I know where I'm not wanted. I'll go see if Nev is up for a game of wizard's chess," Ron said, his grin ruining the offended look he was trying to pull off.

Hermione couldn't bring herself to be sad that he was going. She was looking forward to spending some time with Harry. She wouldn't ask all of the questions that reading his journal had given her, not with this many witnesses, but she couldn't wait to get started on unravelling the mystery he had proven to be from the day she started really looking at him.

:-:-:-:-:

Hermione was nervously undertaking a new experience: she was checking her appearance in the mirror. She had used that same Sleekeazy stuff that she'd found in her trunk before her first Slug Club party. She frowned, momentarily distracted as she tried to remember the last time Professor Slughorn had mentioned one of his 'little get-togethers'. Not the point, old girl. Now let's go.

That turned out to be easier thought than done as her hands came up and pulled at what were now languid curls, trying to get them to look- she didn't even know what she might be trying to accomplish and forced her hands back down.

Trying to pull her attention away from her own hair, Hermione found herself studying the knitted top and corduroy skirt she was wearing, wishing she had something more fashionable to wear on what was undeniably a date of some sort, but the winter cold was taking unusually long to dissipate this year and not even a date would make her completely give up on the practicality of warm clothes in that situation. She twisted herself around in front of the mirror, trying to get a better idea of how she might look from different angles and froze mid-twist when she realised what she was doing. What's gotten into me? Gahhh! This is your fault, Potter… somehow.

Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, Hermione methodically checked that she had everything she might need for the day, though that amounted to little more than her wand and wallet. She knew that her mother sometimes carried extra lipstick in a purse, but Hermione had already removed all the makeup she'd tried to apply, having felt it only made her look like a clown. Giving herself a firm nod in the mirror, one that was as much encouragement as reprimand, she marched towards the stairs, shutting the door very deliberately behind her.

As she descended her stomach began to writhe with nerves. She had no memory of ever having gone anywhere with a boy, not like she was about to do. First time for everything, old girl. Would you rather go back up and hide? The question itself made her balk, but even that didn't settle her nerves. The last step off the stairs and into the common room felt heavy, as if gravity had increased and another door had closed behind her.

"Good morning." Across the room, Harry Potter got up out of a comfy chair with a smile on his face.

"M-morning," Hermione managed. She watched as Harry's smile dimmed a little.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine," Hermione blurted out. A breath later she found herself adding "nervous."

"Yeah, me too," he told her, his hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck. "How about we try to forget about the nerves and get some breakfast before we head out?"

"Okay." Hermione fell into step beside her Defence Professor, unable to say anymore. She was aware of every beat of her heart and did her best to focus on putting one foot in front of the other. When they sat down to breakfast, the idea of being able to swallow a single bite seemed ludicrous.

Deciding that she should at least make an effort, Hermione loaded two pieces of toast on her plate and poured herself a cup of tea only to stare at it.

"You should eat some of that," Harry's voice sounded next to her.

Hermione looked over. "What was that saying about pots and kettles?" she asked, giving his own untouched food a pointed look.

"Fine. Lunch when we get there?" Harry said with a huff that might have been trying to be a laugh.

Hermione wasn't sure that the two of them moving to a different place would make it easier to eat. "Sure," she agreed, swallowing her misgivings far more easily than her toast.

The two of them got up and left the Great Hall. Hermione caught Ron beaming out a grin from the corner of her eye. Well, Lavender will know all about this before the end of the day. That's okay though. I can manage that. Hermione wasn't sure she believed her own thoughts, but at least trying to convince herself that she did covered the slightly awkward ride down to the village.

Once they arrived at Hogsmeade, Hermione noticed that she and Harry were the only two Hogwarts students to have come down this early. Probably because the rest are sensibly eating their breakfasts. She noticed Harry set off down the road and hurried to catch up.

As Hermione walked along beside Harry, she wondered if he was going to take her hand. Perhaps I should take his? Is that what you're supposed to do on a date? Am I walking too close to him? Too far away?

"Hermione?" Harry's voice interrupted her runaway thoughts.

She straightened up and hoped that she had imagined a squeak escaping her lips. "Yes?"

"Didn't you need to buy some new quills?"

Hermione looked up and saw Scrivenshafts' familiar sign. She really did need new quills, having thoroughly underestimated how quickly she would be going through them. "But… that's not very date-like. Is it?"

"Probably not," Harry agreed with a shrug. "I haven't been on a lot of dates, to be honest; just one, actually. I do remember that trying really hard to be 'date-like' only made things horrendously awkward. Besides, if you end up stuck without things you need because we're here together you might end up regretting coming down here with me."

"I didn't realise you'd thought it through like that."

"Only took me all week," Harry said with a boyish grin. "Now, are we getting those quills?"

Hermione felt something between her shoulders unclench. "I do need them." It wasn't until she was paying for a half-dozen goose-feather quills that Hermione realised that her thoughts had stopped racing for what seemed to be the first time that day. She left the store, clutching the packet of quills and buoyed by the unexpected completion of her task. That bubbly feeling diminished when she went to put the package away and discovered that she didn't have any pockets and hadn't brought her school bag.

"Would you like me to carry that for you?"

Hermione looked up to find Harry holding out a hand.

"The pockets on my coat should be big enough to fit that and you wouldn't have to carry it around everywhere."

"Please and thank you," Hermione said, handing over the packet. She watched Harry carefully fit it into one of his pockets before looking up and grinning at her.

"Anything else we need to do?"

"Well, it's not a need exactly…"

"Are we about to visit a bookstore?"

Hermione thought that Harry looked thoroughly amused and hoped she wasn't about to get laughed at. "Would you mind?"

"Not a bit."

Hermione felt a smile stretch her cheeks and almost skipped as she turned to walk towards Tomes and Scrolls. Harry might be onto something with this idea of not treating a date like a date. It's certainly a lot more comfortable this way. She realised that she was about to step into a puddle and danced to the side, swerving back on the other side and bumping into Harry.

She hadn't expected Harry's body to be as firm as it was and found herself bouncing off him. Before Hermione could completely lose her balance, Harry's hand shot out and grabbed hers to help her steady herself. Regaining her balance, Hermione let out a shaky breath. She saw Harry watching her with concern and gave him a quick nod to reassure him that she was alright and they could continue walking.

Two steps later she remembered that she was still holding his hand.

Hermione's face felt warm and her pulse jumping in her throat, but she didn't let go until she had to in order to fit through the door of Tomes and Scrolls. Walking into a bookstore with a tendril of disappointment in her heart was stranger than all the magical things she'd learned over the past few months put together. Thankfully the books were there to help ease the sensation.

As she moved down the aisles, trailing her hand along the leather spines of worlds waiting to be discovered, Hermione breathed in the dusty scent of waiting pages. She willingly sank into the bookstore's embrace and pulled down a volume to inspect it more closely.

Trying to make a choice about which book to buy was always painfully difficult. In fact, as she tried to pare down the stack of books, it only grew larger. Standing with two books in hand, trying to convince herself that she should shelve one of them, a loud gurgle disrupted her thoughts. A burble in her belly informed her of where the sound had come from and Hermione looked around furtively, hoping that Harry wouldn't have heard it.

She was surprised to find him standing next to her, inspecting a book of his own. She wished she could sink through the floor as he looked up in surprise, though he managed to smooth the expression of his face fairly quickly.

"Have you been able to make a choice yet?"

"I-… not really?"

Harry looked over her stack with a thoughtful hum. "Are you looking for anything in particular?"

"No, I guess not."

"Well, you do have access to one of the biggest libraries in the country back at the school, so why don't you go for whatever is least likely to be in there?"

Hermione didn't want to admit that this didn't rein in her desire to own these books as much as read them. "Which-… which ones would you get rid of?" she asked reluctantly.

Harry inspected the books. "I think I'd start by putting back the ones on spellcasting. Those are the most likely to be available at school and even though you're already of age to do magic outside of school, I think that McGonagall is going to want a bit more time with you before you actually go out and do it."

The reasoning made sense to Hermione, though it still hurt to put those books back on the shelves. Unfortunately, her budget was unforgiving and forced the choice. Eventually she was left with only three books and hurried to the counter to buy them before anything else could prevent her from taking them home. She heaved a sigh of relief when the store clerk handed her the books and wished her a good day. The man also cast a slightly odd look at Harry that she couldn't put a name to.

Stepping outside an involuntary shiver shot up Hermione's back as a chill wind ran up to greet her. The cozy feeling the bookstore had produced was swept away and Hermione found herself concentrating on not letting her teeth chatter.

"How about we go get something to drink and a quick bite?" Harry asked, drawing Hermione's attention away from her discomfort and convincing her that he absolutely must have heard her stomach rumble earlier.

"I think I'd like that," Hermione said, a little surprised that her voice sounded as normal as it did. As they turned to walk, she hesitated for a moment before clutching her books to her chest with one hand and reaching out the other to retake her hold of Harry's hand.

Harry looked a little surprised at her action, but certainly not displeased. He gave her hand a quick squeeze and looked ahead with a smile on his face. Hermione felt a little proud that she could make a boy smile like that.

The two walked down the street until they were passing Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop. Hermione wondered if they were going to go in. Every girl she'd heard mention a date this year seemed dead set on getting into that place. Harry wasn't slowing down at all though. "Where are we going?" Hermione asked. "This place or the Three Broomsticks?"

Harry stopped for a second and Hermione saw him eye the tea shop with clear reluctance. "You… want to go in here?" It was obvious that he was trying to humour her.

Hermione thought it over for a minute. I'm really curious about what that place is like, but it looks like Harry's really uncomfortable about going in there. After he went out of his way to make me more comfortable with today's outing, perhaps it's my turn. "I don't really have a preference. I can't remember either establishment particularly well."

"This place is more, um, delicate than the Broomsticks."

"And what's your honest opinion?" Hermione asked. It struck her as funny that Harry was being so reticent about this place for some reason.

"It's…" Harry seemed to be grasping for the right word. "It's stifling."

"That bad, huh?" I guess he means 'date-like' Hermione thought to herself, trying not to snicker.

Harry ran his free hand through his already messy hair distractedly. "I-… I don't know. I've heard a lot of girls say they really love it, but…" he trailed off with shrug.

"I think that I'd really like to sit in the Three Broomsticks with you," Hermione said, squeezing Harry's hand. This time she couldn't contain her mirth as relief spread across his face.

"You were just having me on!" Harry accused, a playful twinkle in his eye.

"Well, you shouldn't have been so fun to tease," Hermione retorted sticking out her tongue for good measure.

"You understand, this means war."

"Ooohh, what are you going to do?"

"I'll think of something," Harry warned, wagging a finger in Hermione's face. It broke the dam of her self-control and laughter came spilling out.

Hand in hand, they walked to the familiar pub. The fact that the noise level noticeably dropped caused the two of them to stop in their tracks and look around awkwardly.

"What do you think they're all looking at?" Hermione asked out of the corner of her mouth.

"Rita Skeeter's next story, probably," Harry responded sounding just a touch bitter. "Let's just ignore them and find somewhere to sit."

Hermione allowed him to pull her through the crowd, her focus mostly on ensuring that the books in her arms made it through with her. She didn't know how, but Harry found them a table to themselves. She suspected that the two fifth-year Ravenclaws that had suddenly jumped up and found other places to be might have been scared off by a green-eyed glare, but she wasn't going to accuse Harry without at least some proof. Besides, if they can all stare at us, we should be allowed to glare back, right?

They had only been sitting for a minute when the landlady bustled up to them, moving through the crowd far more easily than any student. "Alright, dears? What'll it be?"

"A butterbeer for me," Harry said, his tone deliberately polite, "and a slice of your Pie of the Day." He looked over at Hermione who had never felt such pressure when ordering before.

"I'll have a Gillywater, please," she ordered, relieved to have gotten the words out. Remembering that she hadn't eaten breakfast either, she added "and I'll also have a slice of that pie." As Madam Rosemerta disappeared into the throng again, Hermione turned to look at her date. "Is it always like this for you?"

Harry let out something that could have been a laugh if it hadn't been smothered. "More or less," he answered with a reluctant smile. "Most times the staring doesn't bother me, but- um…" He trailed off and looked away awkwardly.

"But what?"

"But- well, I was hoping to make a good impression today if I'm honest. I'm pretty sure that any normal person hates being stared at though."

"It does make me a little uncomfortable, but it's not your fault," Hermione said decisively, "it's theirs."

"Thanks," Harry grinned, looking like some of the weight had fallen from his shoulders. "So, tell me about your research into Memory Charms. I'm sure that you've gotten a lot further with that since Slughorn's party and you'll probably have added in something about-" Harry visibly stopped himself and looked a bit sheepish. "Well, we probably shouldn't talk about that second bit in public."

If the fae are as dangerous as Ron said, then it probably is better not to spread the idea that Harry knows how to summon them around. "I think I can manage on just the first bit," Hermione told him with a smile.

She launched into an account of everything she had learned over the past few months. When Madam Rosemerta came by with the drinks, Hermione was already so absorbed in the conversation that she could barely spare a quick thank-you for the service before barrelling on about certain mental disciplines that might have an effect on the spell.

She wasn't sure how long they'd stayed in the little pub, but they were among the last to leave and the sun was rather thoroughly setting. Hermione took a moment to marvel at how happy she was, taking Harry's hand as they walked. The fact that he kept smiling indulgently as he listened to her talk about magical theory was more than she could ever have hoped for the few times she had entertained the fantasy of some boy asking her out.

Back at the castle, they hurried up to their dorms first to deposit their purchases, Harry making sure to remove her quills from his pocket with as much care as he had put them there. Just before they headed down to supper, Hermione gathered all her courage and stood on tip-toes to press a kiss to Harry's cheek. "Thank you for asking me to come with you today, Harry. I've really enjoyed myself."

"Enough to maybe go again?" Harry asked hopefully, that mischievous twinkle dancing in his eye.

"Yes, you lunk," Hermione laughed, slapping his shoulder. "I would love to go down to Hogsmeade with you again."

"Good," Harry said sounding very satisfied with that answer. Ducking out of the portrait hole, their fingers found each other and linked together for the walk down.

AN:

If there is one flaw that Harry and Hermione have in common it's their curiosity. It might come from slightly different places, but damned if the books' caption couldn't be "Curiosity barely avoids killing cats; cats come back for more."

I do agree with Hermione that I don't understand people who read the last chapter first. I've met them. I know they exist. I just don't understand the impulse.

I also think that Ron has some very fair points that it wasn't on for Hermione to be snooping like that, that Harry's reaction isn't normal and that they both should probably think on what it means for them respectively.