Once the steam from the bath stopped suffocating Harry's lungs as he headed back out towards the couch, he took in a deep, shaky breath. He could do this. At least it made him feel a little better to know that this was just as hard for Hermione as it was for him. She'd wanted to kiss him, too. She hadn't bothered covering up in the bath and God, he wanted nothing more than to toss all his clothes to the floor and climb in there with her, breakup be damned. Why was she more beautiful than the last time he'd seen her less than a day ago? And the way their fingers touched at lunch…

She'd been sitting with Katie, which was kind of strange. They were talking and laughing like they'd been friends for a while. He had expected to see her with Luna or Neville, because making new friends didn't seem like it would be on the top of her to-do list. Or maybe they had been friends for a while. Though, she hadn't seemed any more concerned about Katie than anyone else had when she spent half the year in the hospital with the repercussions of the cursed necklace Malfoy had given her. But he didn't want to think about Katie.

Though, if he was being honest, he really didn't want to think about Hermione, either, because every thought of her was covered in wonderful-smelling steam and beautiful purple water. It was barely clear enough to see anything, but Harry's brain could easily fill in the rest. He knew exactly what Hermione looked like under there, and the way Hermione had been fidgeting, she knew that he was thinking about it. Yes, avoidance was the best idea until he could get that under control. He'd spent nearly all day thinking about her; it seemed as if the longer they spent apart, the more his brain wanted to fix it, to be with her again, to see her. He knew part of it was just the irrational fear of letting her out of his sight. If he could see her, she was safe. But they didn't have to worry about that anymore. Harry himself had made sure of that.

The walk back to Gryffindor Tower took a lot longer than it should have. He focused on his shoes, the stairs, how many bricks were in the wall, who had returned to their paintings, anything to distract himself from the barely visible curves of Hermione's breasts that had been peeking up out of the water.

He was screwed.

"You okay, Harry? We were afraid you'd gotten lost," Neville asked as soon as he got back up to the dorms.

"Not lost, just… distracted."

"Hermione?"

Harry nodded quickly.

Dean and Seamus perked up as well, and it almost seemed like a perfectly normal night in the dorms, though it was quiet without Ron. Ron had planned to be home until the funeral, then promised he'd probably be back at Hogwarts full time. Harry really did miss him; these guys were great, but he wasn't nearly as close to them as he was to Ron.

"Nothing happened, so don't look too excited." He grinned as he headed into the bathroom to change.

He knew that wasn't true - something had happened between their words and the looks and the body language. He couldn't be around Hermione without something happening these days, and that hadn't seemed to change even with the absence of the bond. But the butterflies had come back the moment he stepped into that bathroom and saw her in the tub. Butterflies that had seemed absent since they'd spent all their time together. It seemed now that that wasn't the case, his fondness for her was only more desperate.

Harry got his pajamas on and brushed his teeth before pulling the Dreamless Sleep Potion from his bag. He needed to take it. He needed to sleep, and he knew that if left to his own devices, his brain would either plague him with nightmares of the battle or very pleasant dreams of Hermione in the bath, and neither of those were conducive to a good night's rest. Conducive. His brain was even starting to sound like her.

When he went back into the dorm, they were still staring at him expectantly. "What?" Harry asked harshly. "I don't… I don't want to talk about it, okay?"

Neville's eyes flashed towards Dean's before looking back at Harry. Clearly, they had appointed him for this conversation. "Well… V-Voldemort said that… that you'd been protective of her and… well… she told McGonagall you had a bond. I just…"

Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Yes. All right? We did. We used to. We've… had it for a while, but after… after I went into the forest, it's gone. It's not there anymore. I don't know any more about it than anyone else does. I don't know what happened, but… we broke up. Not because of that, but… I don't know why, actually. It's complicated."

Neville's shoulders dropped. "Oh. Sorry, Harry, we didn't know."

"Why do you think I'm sleeping in here?" he huffed, grabbing the Dreamless Sleep Potion and holding it between his fingers as he crawled into bed. That seemed to be a good enough explanation for everyone as they only gave him a couple passing glances before they got into bed themselves. He was thankful - he was trying to get over it himself after just having fought in a war. He didn't want to explain his breakup to the whole castle over and over and over again. Like a shot of firewhiskey, the potion was warm as he swallowed it, and almost immediately, he felt his eyes start to close.

When Harry woke up the next morning, he was shocked at how refreshed he felt and immediately grateful for the potion - he might need it for a while if he wanted to get any sleep at all. That was the best sleep he'd had in years, if not in his entire life. He'd only ended up taking half a bottle at a time at Fleur's, but the full thing… maybe he should learn how to make some.

He quickly brushed his teeth and pulled on some clothes, hating that everything was too quiet. It was strange how he hated the silence after he'd been so weary of the noise, but he realized it wasn't the noise he missed. He hated being alone. He felt vulnerable. Being alone was dangerous. How long would it take before he didn't feel that anymore?

Harry tried not to be hopeful about seeing Hermione on the way to breakfast, but he couldn't help it. If she'd taken the potion, too, he would love nothing more to see her as well-rested as he was. Well, he could think of a couple things he'd love more, but well-rested Hermione was definitely in his top three. Okay… top five.

He may have taken a detour to her dorm, only lingering a couple minutes before realizing how desperate and stupid it would look for him to just be standing out there. He'd spent seven years not being her boyfriend. She was right - what was a little longer?

Hell. That's what it was, especially when he saw her talking animatedly to Luna, Katie, Neville, and Lavender at the breakfast table. They were all laughing about something, and Harry took a few moments to watch. He did notice a greater number of trunks in the Great Hall than he'd expected. A lot of the students must be finally going home for the summer. It was strange, knowing he'd be staying there for at least a little longer. It would be new for a lot of them, and honestly, he had no idea what to expect. There wouldn't be any classes or extracurriculars - what would they even do?

Hearings, probably. Hearings, more hearings, funerals, press conferences, interviews. Just the thought was making Harry's head spin. How much time was he going to spend at the Ministry? How long would his own trial take? He definitely didn't want to think about that, especially before breakfast.

He'd also noticed, not surprisingly, an absence of a certain member of the Malfoy family. Of course, he assumed he'd be in hiding after what transpired during the war. He hadn't missed how the three of them had fled. That would certainly make its way into his trial, he was sure. There was no way Lucius would stand a chance, not that Harry really cared. Not after the way he'd behaved at Malfoy Manor.

After breakfast, where Harry realized all his friends were also Hermione's friends, and if he was really going to avoid her, he needed to make some new ones, McGonagall pulled both of them into her office.

"What's this about, Professor?" Hermione asked softly as she cast a side eye to Harry. He felt some emotion he couldn't quite describe, but made an effort not to look back at her. Too long looking into her eyes would break the great job he'd done this morning of avoiding her.

"Kingsley told me your trial date."

Harry paled. Hermione twitched as if she was going to take his hand, but didn't.

"It's a week from today. The tenth," she continued, the number of frown lines on her face increasing with every word. "It's a little longer than they'd hoped, apparently, but… assembling the entire Wizengamot has taken more time than normal."

"Harry's been on trial in front of all of them before."

"For underage wizardry," McGonagall corrected, "not for… well, not for something as serious as this. I suspect you and Mister Weasley both plan to testify on Harry's behalf."

"Of course," Hermione answered with no hesitation, and Harry found himself feeling a little more determined. He hadn't had any doubt that Hermione would still be on his side, but it still felt good to hear.

"We need to start preparing your statement. Once the trial's over, Potter, the Prophet will have full access to the story."

"Don't remind me."

"The Malfoy trials are on Thursday, if you're interested."

Harry perked up. "Do you know where he is?"

A soft smile crossed McGonagall's face. "Home, currently. They have been advised not to leave their house until the trials, for everyone's safety, including their own."

"I understand. I'd like to be there for them. Well… two of them."

"Me too."

Harry's nearly got whiplash from looking so quickly to the side. "Hermione, you have no evidence… your scar…"

McGonagall frowned a little at the mention of it but let Hermione speak. "He told you how to save my life, didn't he? He… he was trying to plead with Bellatrix while she was torturing me. Telling her to stop, that I couldn't talk if I was unconscious. That… that hurting me would do any good."

"They might not believe you, Miss Granger. I don't know how well that will hold up."

Hermione sat up a little straighter. "I want to try."

McGonagall was silent for a moment, then nodded at the both of them. "Very well. What about Weasley?"

"I'm not sure," Harry admitted. "I don't think he's got any more than I do, and… he'd probably trust me to do a better job. He won't be up for a trial right now anyway."

"You're probably right on that." She sighed softly and looked between them. "I'm going to say this a lot, but I'm so sorry that you had to go through all of this. Now and… and the past seven years…"

"I know, Professor."

True to her word, by Wednesday afternoon, the castle looked like nothing had ever happened. It was strange, being able to walk around like they always had with no rubble in their way and all the portraits back in their homes. Thankfully, Harry hadn't noticed much of an increase in ghosts. That didn't stop the deaths from being apparent, though. Funerals for fallen students and Order members had been held en mass. Ron had sent an owl the previous evening letting whoever wanted to come that Fred's funeral at the Burrow was planned for the following afternoon, and that anyone was welcome to stay the night as well if they wanted, but they all knew by "anyone", Ron really just meant Harry and Hermione.

"This feels weird," Harry muttered as he tied his new tie around his neck. Hermione hadn't packed any "fancy" clothes for them on the run, so they'd made a quick, supervised, stop to Diagon Alley to pick up whatever necessary items they needed - Harry figured he'd need a suit for the hearing anyway, and he was surprised that every employee at the tailor was jumping to get him measured. It was clear that the only people who weren't on his side were the very people he had to convince. Wonderful.

"I know," Neville replied. He'd gotten ready a little earlier and was now sitting on the bed by the bathroom, not wanting to just wait around anymore. "It's family, you know."

Harry had put off getting dressed entirely until he had no choice. Some of the others had gone on already so the Weasleys wouldn't be overwhelmed with the influx of people. Harry had lagged, and Neville volunteered to stay with him. He really hadn't given Neville enough credit all these years. It wasn't until he realized Neville had been using his dad's wand the entire time that he thought about how hard he had to work to overcome the encumbrance.

"Thanks for staying with me, by the way." He tightened his tie and wiped off his glasses for good measure before raking a hand through his hair. It still would never sit flat, he was sure, but he at least wanted to look like he hadn't just rolled out of bed as had been his usual for the past few days.

"'Course, Harry. You look great, by the way. And even if you didn't, Ron would just want you to be there, no matter what you're wearing."

"I know he would, but I… it feels wrong going in anything else. I just didn't expect… God, I've got the funeral today and then Malfoy's…" he took a breath, "Draco's trial tomorrow."

Neville shifted a little bit and looked down at his hands. "I think it's really brave that you're doing that. I mean, after all he's done to us all these years. Not saying I wouldn't, but I don't know if I'd be able to."

Harry grinned, turning to face him. "Neville, you stood up to Voldemort. If you can do that, Draco should be a piece of cake," he said before starting to brush his teeth (he'd forgotten to do it before getting dressed).

"It's different, though. I felt like it didn't matter if he killed me or not, you know? I mean, Hermione said you were alive-"

Toothpaste nearly found its way all over Harry's suit. "She what?"

Neville nodded softly. "Yeah, after the fit she had, when Ron woke her up, she said she could still feel you and that you were alive. She didn't know what was going on, but she knew you weren't dead. That's when I went to get the sword. I knew we had a chance."

Harry's mouth had been hanging open so long that he almost gagged, and he spit into the sink, rinsing his mouth out. "She never told me."

Neville just shrugged. "Well, now you know, I guess."

"But if she could feel me after I died, then that means the bond's not gone. It's still there?"

"I… shouldn't you know more about that than me?"

"No," Harry admitted, wiping his face off. "If only you knew how little either of us know… knew about that bond. Seems like we're still trying to figure it out. I wonder why she didn't tell me, though."

"Not a question I can answer, I'm afraid." He checked his watch. "You ready? We should probably get going soon."

"Yeah." Grabbing his overnight bag and slinging it over his shoulder, he gestured to the door with his head. "Come on."

McGonagall had set up some Apparition points just outside the school grounds since there was so much going on at any time, and so many people were going to need to be in so many places for a while. Harry was thankful, because he didn't think he'd have it in him to take a journey to the Burrow that wasn't going to be instantaneous. It took a little bit of time to get there, in which neither Harry nor Neville said a word other than greeting the staff on watch to make sure no one Apparated in who shouldn't be. Everyone knew where they were going.

Just past the greenhouses lay a circle of stones that indicated the Apparition point on that side of the castle. There were four of them: this one, one on the other side of the Quidditch pitch, one on a small island in the lake near the boat house, and one past Hagrid's Hut on the way to Hogsmeade. All four of these were monitored around the clock, at least for the time being.

Neville still hadn't tried applying for his Apparition license yet, which after all this, Harry didn't blame him, so he clapped his hand onto Neville's shoulder, and they were gone.

"Have I mentioned how much I hate Apparating?" Neville asked wearily as they landed and Harry helped him stay on his feet.

"It gets better the more you do it. You all right?"

"Yeah, yeah. Thanks."

They straightened their clothes and brushed some dust off before reluctantly heading towards the house. There were people everywhere. The last time Harry had seen this many people at the Burrow was for Bill and Fleur's wedding. But it made sense - of course everyone would be here and supportive and mourning of one of the greatest people Harry had ever known.

He could feel his eyes prickling already and wiped them quickly, taking a shuddering breath. He wished he had Hermione. No, he told himself, he didn't need Hermione. That didn't stop him from wanting her. She'd been his rock for seven months, and now having to deal with his feelings by himself again was… probably a lot healthier. He knew that. He knew she was already emotionally fragile as it is and dumping his feelings onto her wouldn't help her feel any better. They couldn't be dependent on each other, so he better go ahead and get used to it.

That didn't stop his heart from skipping a beat as he caught sight of her back as she talked with Ginny. Her hair was pulled up into a neat bun and even from this angle, he could tell the black dress she had on was absolutely stunning. The back itself was plain, but it was cut in a way to fit her body perfectly. He knew he shouldn't be ogling Hermione at a funeral of all places, but she shouldn't have been wearing such a beautiful dress. Ginny caught his eye and whispered something to Hermione, who made brief eye contact with him over her shoulder. His stopped heart dropped right into her stomach. She'd already been crying, and his first instinct to run to her and kiss her tears away would have to wait, as she pulled Ginny away. He felt so, so conflicted, but Hermione wasn't his priority.

"Harry, you made it!"

"Mrs. Weasley." She hugged him so tightly he thought his ribs were going to break, but he didn't mind at all and returned it. "I wouldn't miss it for the world. Though I wish I could have come back under better circumstances."

"I think that's the case for everyone, you know, but… we'll manage. I'm just grateful that so many of you can be here."

Harry nodded. "Me too." The fact that this many people could be congregated again without being in danger said more than enough.

"I'll go and let Ron know you're here. I know I saw Ginny and Hermione around here somewhere-"

"Molly? I think we're just about ready. Everyone's here." Arthur appeared next to them, shining eyes looking over Harry before tugging him into a hug as well. "Harry, how have you been?"

"I've been better," Harry breathed as he pulled away.

"Hogwarts treating you okay?"

"For the most part. We've got everything all fixed up, good as new."

"Well, that's good news. Are you staying the night with us?"

"I am. I, uh… well, I've got plans tomorrow, but I'll stay here as long as I can."

"The Malfoy trials. Yes, I've heard. But we can talk about all that later. I feel I may… need a distraction."

Harry nodded curtly as Arthur patted him on the shoulder and headed off with Molly to finalize the preparations, he supposed. Suddenly, a wave of dread washed over him that he couldn't place. It wasn't directed at himself, necessarily, but it caught him off guard. You're not in danger, he reminded himself. You're safe. You're okay. You're with family.

Unfortunately, being with family almost made things worse. Fred's funeral was meaningful and beautiful, just as he could have imagined he'd want it. No one in the family had spoken, which he was sure some people would have an issue with, but each time Harry looked over at one of them, it didn't look like they'd be in any mind to say anything anyway. Especially George, who didn't stop crying the entire time. They were silent tears that constantly streamed down his face, and Harry had to look away. He wasn't good with these things. He wasn't good with grief. His own, sure, but someone else's? How would he comfort anyone when he was hurting himself? How could he help them sort out their feelings when he hadn't even sorted out his?

When it was all over and everyone had said their goodbyes, the Weasleys went back to Fred's gravesite, and Harry felt it was best not to intervene and let them have their moment to grieve as a family. He couldn't impose on something like that, so he just sat on the couch, grateful for the moment of quiet as his own tears fell.

A pair of heels softly thumping down the stairs behind him made him jump, and when he turned around, he quickly wiped his eyes.

"Am I not allowed to see you cry now, either?" Hermione teased, but she wasn't really smiling. "Where is everyone?"

Harry cleared his throat. "At the gravesite," he explained, tensing up as she sat down on the couch next to him. They hadn't been in this close proximity for days. Four days, to be precise, and his body felt like it was thrumming to be closer to her.

Hermione just nodded. "It was a beautiful funeral, wasn't it?"

Harry nodded too, unsure of what else to say. "Are you staying here tonight?"

"Yes. I figured it would be easier to just… accompany you for the trials, if that's okay."

"Sure." He shifted a little on the couch, inadvertently scooting closer to her. She didn't budge. "Are you staying for Narcissa's too?"

Hermione nodded again. "I want to give her her wand back."

"You still have it?"

"Yes."

"And I still have Draco's."

Hermione started tearing up again as she looked at Harry, and Harry quickly looked away. "I'm so scared, Harry," she whispered.

"Of what?" he answered before he could even think about it.

Hermione swallowed, taking a second to pull herself together before answering. "Of what's going to happen to you. I don't… I know you took on your hearing before just fine, but you had Dumbledore, and-"

"I'll be okay, Hermione." His hand found hers, and a shiver ran down his spine as she turned hers over to intertwine their fingers. Harry had to remind himself that this didn't necessarily mean anything. They used to hold hands all the time. Maybe this was another one of those things on her list that was okay to do.

"I just won't be able to take it if you're in Azkaban or… or if I'll never see you again. I… I don't think I'd want to…" she trailed off, shaking her head and using her free hand to wipe her eyes. "All this is just so terrible. The last four days have felt like-"

"Years," Harry finished, and she nodded in agreement. "I know." He ran his thumb over the skin on the back of her hand, and it began trembling. Briefly, he thought about asking her about what Neville said, about her still being able to feel the bond, but this wasn't the right time. She wouldn't want to talk about it right now. Harry was just here to listen. "I've got a great team, Hermione. McGonagall and I have been preparing arguments and I think she's trying to get clearance to be there. Kingsley's doing what he can. People are sending in statements."

"We need lawyers, Harry. You need-"

"I know. If this was the Muggle world, things would be a lot different. We both know that, but we've just got to work with what we have right now."

"I'm going to go find my parents after all this is over. Before school starts. But I'm not going to miss any part of your trial, I promise. Even if it means not finding my parents until after the school year's over-"

"Hermione, no. You don't have to wait that long for something that important to you."

"You're more important to me than they are," she whispered, looking down at their hands. "I'd rather have you and never see them again than the other way around."

The weight of Hermione's words flowed in around them, and she closed her teary eyes in anticipation a split second before Harry's fingers moved to cup her jaw and pull her face towards him.

"Harry…" Her whisper was like a promise.

Miraculously, he managed to find his voice, running his thumb against her cheek. "You… you said it was okay to kiss people who weren't my girlfriend."

Hermione managed a grin. "Yes, I suppose I did say that, didn't I?"

"Have you changed your mind?" He immediately regretted asking, because that gave her the option to say yes, and he didn't know if he'd be able to take it if she did.

"No."

Harry's hand moved to the back of her neck and pulled her towards him, finally pressing their lips together like he could breathe again, like everything was okay again. And for a moment, it could be. Feelings he hadn't felt since the battle erupted in his brain, his heart, his stomach. For the first time in four days, he felt alive.

Hermione's hand moved to rest on his forearm, squeezing gently, but conveying more. Instinctively, their lips parted, their tongues met, and the hand on his arm found itself tangled in his hair.

It only lasted a few too-short seconds, but by the time Hermione pulled away, Harry's heart was pounding out of his chest, blood rushing in his ears, and body humming like a livewire. Hermione was panting softly, still playing with his hair as if she never planned on stopping.

The soft clearing of a throat was the only thing that tore Harry's eyes away from Hermione's to find Ron standing in the doorway. Briskly, he scooted to create some space between them. "Ron, I… God, I'm sorry. This is… so disrespectful."

To Harry's surprise, Ron smiled. "Well… actually, Fred was in on the bet with me as to when you two would get together, remember? So maybe he's just intervening to make sure he was right."

Hermione blushed, biting her lip and pushing some hair behind her ear, and Harry immediately wanted to kiss her all over again. "Ron, please don't-"

"I won't tell anyone, I swear. I don't care what you two do or don't do. I… well, I'm sure you don't care how I feel about it. I just came in a little early to tell you that we'll be starting dinner soon, that's all."

"Well, I'm glad it was you, at least." Hermione stood up, straightening her dress, and Harry's eyes instinctively followed her hands. "I'm just… uh… going to go change, then."

After she was up the stairs and out of sight, Ron looked at Harry and snickered. "I thought you were avoiding her."

"I was."

"You've got it bad, mate," he grinned. "Why don't you just tell her?"

"I can't. She won't… it's complicated. She's not ready yet."

"Well, I'm sure if you keep snogging her, she'll come around."

"That's not going to happen again. Not anytime soon. She's probably embarrassed enough as it is."

"Whatever you say, Harry. Everyone will be in in a minute, so if you want to change, go ahead and do it now. As far as sleeping arrangements go…"

"I'm staying with you," Harry insisted.

"Just saying. Ginny's staying with George, so Hermione's got her own room if you change your mind." And what a wonderful prospect it was.

Dinner was quiet, as Harry expected, but the closure at least seemed to have everyone in slightly better spirits. Shockingly, Hermione had settled herself in the seat next to Harry. He didn't know if anyone but Ron and Ginny knew about their relationship status (whatever the hell it even was at the moment), but Ginny kept giving him these strange pointed looks as if it was obvious he'd broken his own rules.

Just as he was crawling into the extra bed in Ron's room, there was a soft knock at the door. Ron just raised his eyebrows at Harry, who didn't move from his spot. "I'm sure it's for you."

"How do you know?"

"You forget I've been friends with her as long as you have. Don't have too much fun, though, okay? Not in my house."

Harry huffed in annoyance, about to say something to defend himself when he opened the bedroom door to, sure enough, find Hermione in her pajamas. He swallowed audibly. "Hi."

"Hi. Is… is Ron asleep?"

"Not yet," Ron answered, rolling over and pulling the blanket up to his chin.

"Um…" Hermione was blushing, and she looked back down at her feet. "I… I was just wondering… since, uh… since we're breaking rules tonight, if… if sleeping with girls who aren't your girlfriend is allowed, too?"

"Blimey, you just ask him?" Ron piped up. "Does that work?!"

"Not like that," Hermione groaned, her blush deepening. "I just… tomorrow's a big day and I thought it might be comforting to…"

"Yeah," Harry answered. "Yeah, I'd… I'd say that's allowed. Just-just for tonight."

"Of course. Just tonight."