It Felt Like That

by possumcuddless

Following the Battle of Hogwarts, everything has changed. Voldemort is dead, the Wizarding World can breathe again, and Harry and Hermione must learn to navigate the complexities of a relationship between two friends-to-lovers with a broken bond and a lot of healing to do in a world they've never known. Sequel to It Feels Like This, but should be able to be read by itself.

11. From Quartz to Marble

Harry woke up Sunday morning nearly two hours before he planned to, and no matter how hard he tried, his eyes wouldn't close for more than a couple seconds before he felt the need to get out of bed. Luckily, he was quite used to after-hours walks around the castle. Quietly, as not to disturb anyone else in the dorm, he slid a hoodie over his head and his shoes onto his feet. Sunlight was barely peeking up above the trees when he looked out the window, and he didn't even run into any ghosts roaming the halls with him, or Mrs. Norris, for that matter. His shoes barely made a sound. He ran his fingers along the cool stone as he headed out into the courtyard.

It seemed to be where he gravitated now when he wanted some privacy; there were plenty of nooks and crannies for him to hide in. But as soon as he stepped into the courtyard, it seemed like the shadows cast by the pillars and columns and overhangs were moving. A panic quickly set in, and he moved faster. Through the shadows, past the whispers, the screams, the crumbling stone, until he felt grass under his shoes and his heart started to beat a little slower. He squatted down, running his fingers over it until they were damp with morning dew. Focus on what you can feel in the moment. Physically, not emotionally. It'll help ground you to the present.

Not that the present was much better. In a few hours, he'd be sitting in front of the entire Wizengamot once again, for a "crime" that he had no choice but to commit. One way ticket to Azkaban. The words he'd once heard in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom had been a near-constant echo in his head over the past 24 hours. It was a phrase he hadn't even remembered until now. Funny how the mind worked.

He'd admitted to Greenwood that he'd been using flying as a coping mechanism, and she said it wasn't necessarily bad in the moment, but that he also needed to confront things in time. In time. Not right now.

When he got to the Quidditch pitch, though, he found that he wasn't alone. Someone was flying slow circles halfway up but came to a halt once Harry was spotted. A few seconds went by before they started flying again, clearly having decided that Harry being there wasn't enough of a deterrent to stop.

Harry took a deep breath and summoned his new Firebolt - the school brooms hadn't been cutting it - before mounting it and rising, his eyes closing as the feeling of the wind at his face seemed to wipe the worries from his mind. He capped off at the height of his companion, waiting for him to come back around. He wasn't sure he'd want to talk, but flying around silently with someone wasn't his idea of a good time, either.

"What are you doing up, Potter?"

"Couldn't sleep. I could ask you the same thing."

Draco looked down at the handle of his broom, readjusting his hands. "Me either."

They stared at each other for a bit, green eyes studying distant, avoidant grey ones. He recognized that look. He'd been seeing it in the mirror for a week.

"It helps more if you go faster. Flying, I mean." More silence, until Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out the Snitch he had. Something to focus on was even better than flying aimlessly. At the familiar sound of fluttering wings in Harry's hand, Draco finally looked back up at him, his eyebrows furrowing together. "Fancy a race?"

Draco scoffed. "Why would I want to race you?"

"Scared you'll lose?"

"Please. Just because you've got a Firebolt doesn't mean you know how to use it."

Harry bit back a laugh, and he could see a corner of Draco's mouth start to curl up in a smirk. "Have it your way, then." When he loosened his grip, the Snitch rose a few inches, barely glinting in the first subtle rays of sunlight. Draco's eyes instinctively followed, then the Snitch darted off and Draco sped after it with Harry close behind. It was like the stadium filled in around them. He was fourteen again, cloak whipping behind him as the entirety of Gryffindor House cheered him on. Draco was a blur in green in front of him, weaving and diving, seemingly a step ahead.

But Harry was faster. Draco was just on a house broom, and no matter how good of a flier he was (because it seemed like he hadn't lost his touch at all), his Firebolt was better. He easily pulled to Draco's side, not taking his eyes off the golden ball in front of them.

The Snitch took a sharp dive, and Harry was prepared. He'd been practicing this. He knew it wouldn't hit the ground, but Draco hesitated for a split second, so Harry pulled forward. He had a thought about just letting him get it, but Draco would know better. If he was going to win, he'd have to win on his own. Harry wasn't going easy on him. After a couple seconds of flying, Harry dared to look to the side. He didn't usually, since it made his head spin and he'd gotten disoriented before, but he needed a mental note of where Draco was if he was going to stay ahead of him. But he wasn't even there.

Harry halted, pulling up on the end of his broom to stop. Draco was still at the top of the dive, hovering, his gaze on the ground. Maybe racing hadn't been a good idea after all, but it had helped him, so he figured it wouldn't hurt. Harry's grip tightened - was he really the person that needed to be talking to him right now? What would he even say? It would have been rude to just leave, though, and he was trying to be a better person, so he really had no choice but to fly back up.

"You all right?"

"Yeah." It didn't sound like it. "Just wanted to make you feel better about yourself, I guess."

"...What?"

"Maybe I wanted to try something new, Potter. Just drop it."

"Look, Draco-"

"I said drop it."

Harry stared at him for a few seconds. He wanted to tease him. He wanted to push his buttons. He wanted to get angry because he didn't really want to be here with him in the first place when he'd been trying to have a moment alone. But he didn't. That wasn't who he was anymore, was it? That's not who any of them could be.

"You'll be okay, Draco. I know you will. Whatever you're dealing with… it'll pass. Just like it will for me. And Hermione. And everyone else who's struggling right now." He took a deep breath, and when Draco didn't respond, he let his next words slip from his mouth before he could think about not saying them. "I'm not asking to be your friend, but I don't want to be your enemy anymore."

Draco scoffed, shaking his head but otherwise just shifting a little on his broom. "Can we just get back to the stupid race? I wanted to kick your arse for once."

"Do you want to try the Firebolt, then? Sorry to say, but that one's not going to cut it," Harry smirked.

"You're asking me if I want to ride your broom, Potter?" He almost smiled.

"Yeah, I am. But don't get used to it."

"Ride your broom. Keep it a secret. Got it. Come on, then. Show me what you've got."

"Tosser!" Harry called as Draco started to glide back down to the ground so they could trade.

"Wanker!" Draco called back over his shoulder.

By the time the sun was fully set in the sky, Harry had nearly forgotten that he had a trial that day. It had been… fun wasn't quite the right word, but a needed distraction, flying with Draco. Frustratingly difficult to beat him once he got hold of the Firebolt, and a good mental exercise on skill and maneuvering. Harry did manage to catch the Snitch once, but Draco said the sun had been in his eyes and he couldn't see. Otherwise, he barely stood a chance. As irritating as it was, though, he knew deep down that it was probably good for Draco to have a victory right now. Surprisingly, once they were out of breath and Draco's hair was messier than he probably realized, they dismounted and Draco handed the Firebolt back.

"Maybe you do know how to use your broom after all, Potter."

Harry wasn't sure what to say in response, so he just cleared his throat. "Are you, uh… hanging around the castle today?"

"Yeah. You?"

"Oh, uh… I've got my… trial."

"Shit, that's today?"

Harry nodded.

"Granger's going?"

"Of course."

"Then you'll be fine. But, uh… good luck, I guess." He stuck out his hand. "See you around, Potter."

You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there.

Brainwashed.

If I didn't know any better, Draco, I'd say you were scared.
Scared, Potter? … Did you hear that?

Fear.

Look, Potter. You've got yourself a girlfriend.

Jealousy.

Is it true you fainted? I mean you actually fainted?

Perhaps a hint of compassion, whether for gossip or not. If he hadn't cared, he wouldn't have asked.

I don't think you're going to last ten minutes in this tournament.

Taunting. Fishing for a reaction. Harry always gave one. Everything he did was just so that Harry would get angry.

I'm surprised the Ministry's still letting you walk free, Potter. Better enjoy your freedom while you can. I expect there's a cell in Azkaban with your name on it.

That one hit too close to home. He'd reacted the same way a few days earlier.

Then, his own voice. "Sectumsempra!" echoing off the stalls. The blood. The guilt. He almost killed him. And Draco had been terrified.

What's wrong with his face?

Stalling. Defiance against his family. Defiance against Voldemort.

They'd always been on the same side, hadn't they? Harry's gaze lingered on Draco's hand before he looked back up at his eyes and extended his own.

Everything after that was a blur.

7:26 AM

A headline.

HARRY POTTER: THE BOY WHO DIED… OF HEARTACHE Hermione Granger, who just three days ago was seen being held in the arms of Draco Malfoy, isn't as Golden as we thought. Sources saw her kissing Harry Potter at Hogwarts in the midst of battle moments before You Know Who went down. How will she react at Potter's trial today? Will she be able to face him knowing that he knows of her unfaithfulness? How long has this been going on?

Harry set the newspaper on fire.

9:12 AM

The same damn suit he'd been wearing all week. At least it wasn't a funeral.

Not yet, anyway.

9:25 AM

A crack sounded through an empty lobby as he appeared at the Ministry, Hermione clutching his arm like her life depended on it. He could already feel the warmth of her tears seeping through his jacket. He didn't care.

McGonagall was there, placating photographers.

Arthur was there, a glance cut to Harry as he powered through his own interviews.

Kingsley, trying not to look worried.

Hermione's fingers threading through his.

Twenty minutes.

9:30 AM

A stopped elevator.

Hermione sinking to her knees despite Harry's feeble protests, fumbling with the button on his pants.

At least that took care of some of his nerves.

9:46 AM

Someone different was holding the gavel. Not the same man as Draco's trial.

"Disciplinary hearing on the tenth of May for offenses committed by Harry James Potter. The charge against the accused is as follows: willingly and with complete knowledge of the illegality of his actions, using the Killing Curse last Saturday evening. Do you deny these charges?"

"No."

"You admit to using an Unforgivable Curse."

"To defeat Voldemort! You're not leaving that out, are you?! It was my only choice."

"How so?"

"Would you rather him have lived?"

10:15 AM

"Please present Harry Potter's wand for inspection."

10:38 AM

"Sir, you've got to understand what Harry was up against! The prophecy-"

"Prophecy? A prophecy does not count as evidence, Miss Granger."

11:03 AM

Muttering. Uproar. A gavel. The scribbling of quills.

12:47 PM

Harry's back was starting to hurt.

1:19 PM

"Witness to the accused, Minerva McGonagall…"

1:28 PM

"Is it true you currently possess the Elder Wand?"

Murmurs.

"No. It is buried with Albus Dumbledore."

"And do you have proof of that?"

"I do not. Would you like to exhume him and check?"

2:17 PM

"Witness to the accused, Ronald Weasley…"

3:24 PM

"Hermione Granger…"

4:15 PM

"We will now be reading witness statements…"

4:26 PM

"Hermione, do you think they'd let me use the toilet?"

"Hush."

"We haven't had a break since lunch - I have to go!"

6:38 PM

"... reconvene tomorrow morning at 9 AM."

"What more could they want?! They stopped asking me questions!"

"Hush!"

By the time they got back to Hogwarts, Harry was mentally and physically drained. Ron headed to the kitchens and met them in the Great Hall balancing three plates in his arms.

"You know, you could have just levitated those in here," Hermione grinned.

"Oh, damn," Ron sighed as he set them down. "Doubt it would work anyway. I can't believe they kept us there all day."

"Tell me about it." Harry rested his elbow on the table a little harder than he intended, and the thump scared him more awake. "Sorry."

Hermione's hand was on his back, rubbing it comfortingly. Harry leaned into it, wishing for a moment more than anything else that he could be crawling into bed with her. As a consolation, he rested his head on her shoulder, inhaling deeply. Was she wearing someone else's perfume again? It wasn't his favorite. It wasn't Ginny's. He hoped she hadn't gotten another one because there was one waiting for her in a box in his trunk. She hadn't asked about it, but Harry knew she hadn't forgotten. He'd just been waiting for the right time to give it to her, because he knew that giving perfume to someone who'd just broken up with you wasn't normal. He'd thought about her birthday, but that was still four months away, and who knew where'd they'd be in four months? He didn't even know where he would be in four months. He'd give it to her when this was over; wherever he was, she'd get her gift.

They ate in silence.

May 11, 1998

AN UNEVENTFUL FIRST DAY OF HARRY POTTER'S TRIAL The first day of Harry Potter's trial had the entire Wizengamot spending the day sitting in the courtroom, listening to statement after statement with seemingly no thoughts toward a final decision. At the moment, there has been no indication of how long this trial will take, but the Wizengamot was clear about exhausting every resource possible to get as much insight on the events of the battle as they can, even taking written statements from witnesses who were unable to be present, which is not common practice. Harry himself looked bored for most of the time, because, frankly, he didn't get much of a chance to speak. The most important question was first - Harry Potter did admit to using the Killing Curse to defeat the Dark Lord once and for all. When asked about his motive, his first answer was, "Would you have rather him lived?" He claimed he had no other choice. Though they were not released until nearly 7p.m., the questions asked seemed irrelevant to the case. Unfortunately, it's looking like the Ministry is dragging out what could have taken place in a couple hours. It's certainly a contrast with Draco Malfoy's trial that occurred late last week. Is the Ministry taking sides? Only time will tell, but as the Wizarding World begins to get back to a sense of normalcy, the feeling of relief is palpable. Whatever happened that night, Harry Potter has once again ensured that we are able to live without fear, and for that, everyone is grateful.

"Grateful," Harry muttered, setting the newspaper back on the couch. "All I'm grateful for is the fact that they're not detaining me in Azkaban while they figure all this rubbish out. What did they even accomplish yesterday?"

"Nothing," Hermione sighed. "Absolutely nothing. They could have finished it in an hour."

"What's even the point?" Ron piped up, balling up a random piece of parchment and tossing it in the direction of the fire.

The mail had come during breakfast, but everyone knew better than to talk about it while Harry was at the table, and he was really trying to not complain at all. Lavender's first change was that night, and she'd slept in the greenhouse the night before just to make sure she was comfortable. She and Neville weren't even in the Great Hall with everyone else, but he could have sworn he saw McGonagall discretely levitating two plates of food in front of her as she left. No one asked any questions. They all knew what was happening, and no one wanted to talk about it.

Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Katie had gone up to the common room once they were done. It was strange with a fourth person now a part of their friend group. They had to rearrange themselves in their seats since all four of them couldn't sit on the couch together, it ended up with Harry and Hermione on either side of the couch, and Ron and Katie squished together in the armchair. She'd started out sitting on the floor in front of him, but that quickly became uncomfortable, so she'd moved to his lap, then realized that was weird, so he'd scooted over as much as he could so she could sit next to him, which was still essentially on his lap.

It had been quite entertaining to watch, if Harry was being honest. He and Hermione were never like that. Even before they were together, he didn't think he'd find it weird at all if she just plopped down in his lap one day. In fact, he probably would have wrapped his arms around her stomach, maybe kissed the back of her neck or the side, right in the dip where her neck met her shoulder, the spot that made her moan his name out in a whisper…

"There is no point," Hermione answered, making Harry sit up a little straighter as he was pulled from his thoughts - had he been staring? Luckily, he didn't notice any eyes on him. "The Ministry's dragging this out for the publicity. There's no other explanation. We didn't need to look at your wand - it wasn't even used in battle and they know that! They know the curse was done with Draco's! They knew it on Thursday when we showed them . Asking if you were 'of sound mind' right after they decided that Divination couldn't be used to determine anything."

"They also didn't believe I had the Resurrection Stone."

Hermione huffed, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning back against the cushion. "Do I need to go through the bloody forest and find it for them? Why do they even care about the Hallows? If they don't believe in Divination, they certainly don't think the Hallows had any part of it. It's all just so frustrating."

"Imagine how I feel."

"I'm sorry," Hermione muttered, looking down at her lap.

Without any hesitation, he scooted over a little, reached into her lap, and took one of her hands into both of his. It was a little cold, but they almost always were, especially lately. "Hermione… listen to me. We've got this, okay? I'll be all right. We'll get through this, no matter how long it takes."

"You don't know that, Harry," she whispered.

"Remember what happened last time I said to trust me?" Hermione bit her lip, holding back tears, but nodded. He wanted to kiss her so bad. It seemed like that was the only way he knew how to cheer her up anymore, with touch. But he'd done it for years, hadn't he? He had to use his words again. "I'm not going anywhere. I've got you, right? That's enough of a guarantee."

There it was - the corner of her lips turning up in a tiny smile; she knew he was right.

May 15, 1998

STILL NO END IN SIGHT FOR POTTER TRIAL Three days have seen the Golden Trio at the Ministry in a multitude of interviews, statements, and near harassment from other reporters. The second and third day of trial were just as uneventful as the first - it's obvious that they are exhausting their connections, but it's unclear what exactly they're trying to find. Harry Potter made references to horcruxes, a Dark magic that involves the splitting of the soul. He states that this was how the Dark Lord was able to stay alive, and that Harry himself was the last one. "[The Dark Lord] killed me," Harry explained. "When I died, the part of [the Dark Lord's] soul that was inside of me died, and I was able to come back. That's what the prophecy had been saying. We both couldn't live. I had to kill him. And I had to make sure he was dead. No other magic was able to hurt the other horcruxes we destroyed. I knew it would work and I wasn't about to take my chances trying to figure something else out!" Not surprisingly, Hermione Granger has been incredibly adamant about her support for Harry Potter's decision and Harry Potter himself. They have been seen holding hands on numerous occasions - for support or for love, we can't say. Hopefully she is giving him strength to withstand this process. Ronald Weasley has been equally supportive - even on days he's not being questioned, he is by Harry's side. It's obvious that the Golden Trio is sticking together, no matter the outcome.

With each passing day, Harry was increasingly grateful that there were less than thirty people in the castle considering the way rumors flew around. Luckily for him, though, there wasn't much talk about the trial since it wasn't resulting in much to begin with. The last few days, everyone had been focused on Lavender. The first morning after her change, Neville had slunk into the Great Hall for breakfast, dark bags under his eyes and not speaking to anyone; utterly exhausted. No one knew what to do or what to say. Madam Pomfrey rushed from the staff table to follow him out, leaving her own meal behind to help him. Even after he was gone, no one spoke, almost as if they'd forgotten.

Hermione's hand found his under the table, linking their fingers together and squeezing.

"You did everything you could," Harry muttered. "I'm sure she's very appreciative."

Over the next couple days, Lavender began integrating herself back into the rest of the castle. It seemed like she was more embarrassed than anything else, but grateful that no one had brought it up. He really tried his best not to pry. It was comforting to see Neville hovering over her but not too close, protecting her, making sure she had everything she needed. He didn't talk about it at night, though, even when he'd tried to get a conversation about literally anything to keep himself from constantly staring at Hermione's dot on the Marauder's Map once she got into her room.

May 17, 1998

Draco's shoulder thudded against his, sending him hurtling into the side of the Quidditch Pitch..

"What the hell, Malfoy!"

"You're doing it again, Potter! Pay attention or I'll just fly by myself from now on!"

"Do it, then!" Harry huffed, turning back to face him.

He'd barely seen Draco outside of flying with him, which was its own kind of infuriating. Not at mealtimes, not in the hallways, not anywhere, and the thought of him getting to see Hermione at night, too, was something he didn't like to think about often. She hadn't talked about him, and Harry didn't ask. Greenwood had told him that his jealousy was unwarranted, and just knowing that she'd been talking to Hermione, he figured it was the truth. It didn't make it any easier, though, even with the map to confirm that she was in her room every night very much alone.

Not that he was checking.

"And give you that satisfaction? No way. Come on!" Draco sped off, and Harry's rediscovered flaring temper thanks to Draco's attitude lately had him following a little faster than he probably would have normally. He pulled out his wand and set the back of Draco's broom on fire.

"You owe me a new broom, Potter! I could have died."

"Stop being so dramatic - it was just the tip."

"You'd know all about that, wouldn't you?"

"Prat!"

"Ow!"

"Ow!"

Their arguing could be heard well into the Great Hall for lunch, which wasn't surprising. What made everyone stop their conversations, though, was the way that through the banter and the bruises they'd given each other over the past few days, Harry found himself almost having fun. Draco was a completely different person up in the air than he was on the ground. Maybe Hermione had a point. Or maybe the trial was going to his head.

Draco didn't stop to eat, though. Instead, he made his usual trek to wherever else he spent the day, which Harry was fairly suspicious was just his dorm. Hermione didn't seem to have any reaction to the fact that he'd been friendly with Draco in front of people, just eating with one hand and poring over whatever book about legality of spells and self defense she'd borrowed from the library that day (though it looked like one she'd already discussed with him) but Ron seemed to be gripping his fork so tightly that Harry could see the muscles tense in his arm.

"What was that all about?" he muttered as Harry sat down in his usual spot next to Hermione.

"What do you mean?"

"All that with Malfoy."

Harry rolled his eyes before he could remind himself not to. "We play Quidditch, remember? I've invited you to play."

"You think I really want to play with him?"

"Two against one would give him pretty bad odds." Truthfully, he wished Ron would play. He felt like he saw more of Draco than he did of his best friend, which was saying something considering they shared a room. But Ron had been unusually quiet for the past few days, and he'd blamed it on the stress of the trial - something Ron was never very good at managing - but this seemed… personal. "It's just us flying around, honestly. It's kind of hard to actually play with two people-"

"So you're on board with giving him another chance, too? Just like that?" Ron finally looked up, and so did Hermione.

"Ron, you know-"

"No, don't interrupt. I'm talking to Harry. I don't care what you think about him. You're sharing a room with him."

"Don't talk to her like-"

"I just don't bloody understand why all of you are just willing to conveniently forget all the shit he's done to us just because he wanted to make sure he didn't die in the war! I mean, Katie-"

"Leave me out of this, Ron. You know how I feel-"

"Do I?"

"Well, I'm not arguing about him-"

"I'm not arguing!"

"Then what do you call this? Harry just sat down and you were already all over him-"

"I'm not fighting with you about this, Katie. That's the last damn thing I need."

"Then can you please just calm down?" Harry asked, exasperated that he'd started all this just by sitting at the table.

"Calm down?" Ron laughed cynically. "You want me to calm down?"

"Ron, people are staring," Hermione whispered.

"Let them. I don't care. I don't care if Malfoy's listening, either. The Ministry may have let him get away with attempted murder on multiple accounts, but I'm not. And none of you should, either. He's not a good person-"

"No one said he was!" Harry interjected. "He's not my best friend, Ron! He's not even my friend! I'm just trying to make him feel a little included here because I know what it feels like to be alone, trapped in a room all day, feeling like you can't leave without someone accusing you of something. I haven't forgotten anything he's done. I know he tried to kill Dumbledore. I know he let Death Eaters into the castle. I know he cursed Katie and Madam Rosmerta. I know he gave us away in fifth year. I know he was a git."

"Then what the hell are you doing?"

"I'm doing what's expected of me! I'm doing what's right. What am I supposed to do? Want him to get arrested when he saved my life? What would that tell the press about me, huh? That I don't think bad people can change? That saving my life means nothing to me?" Harry took a breath to calm down, looking over at Hermione, who was just watching them carefully. He didn't want to do this with Ron again, not when they'd lost so many people. Not when relationships were on the brink already. "I'm sorry I haven't been spending a lot of time with you. I'm sorry I've… I'm sorry we're all having to go through this because of me, okay?"

Hermione was shaking her head. "Harry, you don't have to apologize-"

"No, let him." Ron said, his face stony and his blue eyes pale. Harry hadn't remembered seeing them like that in a long time.

Boundaries.

"I'm not going to stop talking to Dra… Malfoy. He's being smart and lying low until all this blows over. I'm sorry I've taken advantage of our friendship, Ron. I… didn't realize you felt so strongly about me spending time with him and I didn't realize how much it was hurting you. I don't want us to-"

Hermione suddenly slammed the book shut, picked it up, and briskly walked out of the Great Hall with her head down, like Harry had come to know she did when she was crying. Instinctively, he rose to his feet to go after her, but then he realized he was about to do the exact thing Ron was upset over. He swallowed down the feeling that she was going to go back to her room, where Draco would be waiting. He blinked away the anger that thought caused, and he turned back to sit at the table. His friendship with Hermione was in a weird spot anyway, but they'd get through it. Ron… well, he had a strange suspicion that he could lose Ron if he pushed him too far for too long.

Katie felt that Ron needed the attention right now, too, because she didn't budge from his side.

"You mean a hell of a lot more to me than Malfoy does. You know that. I'm not… I'm not replacing you. I'm sorry."

Ron's face seemed to soften from quartz to marble, and he relaxed a little on the bench. "Me too."

Katie audibly sighed with relief, but they spent the rest of lunch not speaking.

May 21, 1998

POTTER TRIAL FINALLY OVER Nearly two weeks after opening statements, Harry Potter was cleared of the charge of using an Unforgivable Curse, "due to the defeat of a major threat to the entire Wizarding Community." Why that couldn't be decided on the first day is still a mystery, but at the release of the verdict, cheers could be heard in the streets. Potter's agreement with the Ministry was not released to the press, but he still seemed as relieved as ever as he and Hermione were seen exiting through the lobby hand-in-hand with Ron close behind. Only time will tell how all of this has affected the three teenagers, who have been forced to grow up far faster than they should have. For the moment, they appear to be returning to Hogwarts, and have asked that their privacy be respected. The entire staff at the Daily Prophet extends our condolences to everyone involved with the war. Everyone who lost someone they loved and everyone who had to be witness to this tragic event. We are relieved with the decision the Ministry made today. More information will be released as it is provided.

Harry couldn't remember the last time he'd had a feast at Hogwarts, but the morning after the last day of trial, McGonagall had the banners spelling out his name and every student (except Draco) in a standing ovation when he came down to breakfast. Where he would normally be embarrassed at all the attention, something that wasn't paired with a camera or a microphone shoved in his face was incredibly welcome. He found himself unable to stop smiling all the way through breakfast, which, for the first time, included Artemis swooping down to land on the table, clutching a small envelope in his mouth. It was the only mail he'd received since his Gringotts statement, which he had hastily shoved into his pocket after seeing how much money he actually did have, especially after everything they'd taken in payment. He'd immediately thought of all the things he could buy for Hermione, which meant he definitely wasn't ready to get any of it out yet.

He set his fork down and gripped the letter, but the owl wouldn't let go. "You're supposed to hand it over. That's what deliver means, Artemis." Artemis cocked his head and blinked; Harry tugged a little harder. "Come on. Give it up. I don't have to pay you - you're my owl!" Artemis just made a muffled screech.

"I think he's doing it on purpose," Hermione grinned, breaking off a piece of bacon and offering it up to Artemis. He pondered for a moment, then willingly dropped Harry's letter onto his plate to accept Hermione's payment a little more eagerly than she anticipated. "Ow! Watch it!" Hermione sucked her finger into her mouth while Harry eagerly opened the letter.

Harry,

I heard what happened at your trial yesterday - I've been following it very closely and I couldn't believe it took so long just for them to clear you! Anyway, I'm so excited that you're okay and I hope you're enjoying your time at Hogwarts as a free man! I can tell Artemis is still being a pain, so I'm glad nothing's changed! Hopefully you get this letter all right! Feel free to come in and get him some treats on the house.

Lia

"Lia?!" Hermione was reading over Harry's shoulder, and he quickly snatched the letter to the side to hide it, even though Hermione was already done. "What's she doing writing to you?!"

"Shut up, Hermione," Ron argued. "Harry's allowed to have other friends, remember?" He had settled down a little bit since their argument, but Harry still made a point to not talk too much about Draco when he was around, just in case. It was moments like these where he made sure to remind Harry he still wasn't in the best of spirits about the whole thing, though.

Hermione looked around to see everyone staring at her, then slumped back on the bench. "She's just never written to you before, so it was a shock, that's all."

Harry could see right through her, and silently bumped his foot against hers. "She's just congratulating me about the trial."

"That's the girl from Eeylops, right?" Ron asked, shoving another sausage into his mouth. Clearly, he was grateful for the feast instead of their usual breakfast.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, she sold me Artemis. Said she's happy he's still a pain."

"Sounds like flirting to me," Hermione grumbled, which made Harry blush.

"Believe me, Hermione, you have absolutely nothing to worry about," he grinned. Satisfied at his answer, she went back to eating with a smirk on her face that made Harry think she just wanted him to admit something in front of everyone.

Their friendship over the last week or so had been… interesting. Harry had long given up the prospect of avoiding each other, and besides what had happened the first morning of the trial, there was a weird sense of everything being like it used to. Maybe it was the stress and the rush and needing to be somewhere what felt like constantly, but they had managed to settle back into a sense of familiarity that didn't include any type of inherently physical intimacy. Sure, they held hands and hugged, which Harry always lingered on, but that had always been normal for them.

It also helped that they made a point to not be alone together. Harry knew that kept both of them accountable, but he missed it. Every time he looked at her, he'd still feel longing to touch her, to kiss her, to thread his fingers through her hair, and to feel her hands in his. He absentmindedly raked his own hand through his hair - definitely not the same. And he needed to cut it if no one was going to be playing with it. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Hermione glancing at him, rubbing her thumb absentmindedly against her index finger, and he swallowed. Had she known what he was thinking about? He did it again, quickly, just to fix where he'd messed it up.

Harry wasn't entirely sure where she was in her feelings, but when they weren't at the Ministry, she smiled more, which he liked. It was partially due to the both of them seeing Miss Greenwood, too, who had assured him during both of their sessions that it was possible for them to be friends, especially if they wanted it. He wondered if she asked pointed questions because she'd just seen Hermione, but he never minded talking about her.

"So, what exactly changed in your relationship once you and Hermione got together. What took you from friends to boyfriend and girlfriend?"

"Well, we… we kissed and… uh… the… the sex."

"Anything else? Did you feel more emotionally connected? Bond aside."

Harry slouched back in his chair. "I mean… not particularly, I don't think. Maybe we were a bit more honest with each other and we found out a lot about each other we didn't know because we had so much time to talk, but… other than that, I'm not… I mean she's still my best friend. She's always been my best friend. She always will be."

"Then let her be. The rest will come."

"So," Ron started, looking between them, "the trial's over… now what?"

Hermione looked up from her food, most of which Artemis was picking at. "Now… I go find my parents."

"Do you know how to find them?" Harry asked softly.

She took a deep breath. "I know where they should be, if I altered things correctly. But I won't really know until I start looking. Unfortunately, they won't be in any Muggle record books, so that won't be helpful."

"Well, you'll figure it out," he reassured her, sensing the hesitation and self-doubt he hated listening to. "You know I'd go with you if I could."

"I know." She placed her hand on his and he turned it over instinctively. "I guess I need to figure out how to get my ticket-"

"What are you doing after breakfast?" It was sudden, and it made her eyebrows furrow together (which was always so adorable), but she laughed a little.

"Probably just researching more… why?"

Harry caught her glance across the table towards Ron and Katie, but his eyes were only on her. "I just… thought maybe we could take a walk?"

Hermione swallowed. "A-A walk?"

"Yeah." Gears were turning behind her eyes as she tried to decipher his intention. "I mean, it's nice out, so-"

"Sure. Yeah. I'd love to." Still a little confused, but she was smiling. The one that was reserved for him: gentle, with her lips barely curled, but her eyes squinting on the sides and the tip of her nose turning up a little. He hadn't seen it in a while, and he suddenly remembered how much he missed it.

Maybe Harry was just in his head, but it seemed like Hermione finished her breakfast faster than normal. She stopped studying in lieu of speeding up whatever it was that she was expecting from this walk. Had he implied something, or was she just feeling his excitement about the semi-alone time that would come with a walk without their friends? He wasn't sure if he'd be giving Hermione the perfume today, but he'd come down for breakfast with the box in his pocket. Just in case. And it was starting to feel heavy.

They bid their friends goodbye and Harry kept his hands deep in the pockets of his jacket so he wouldn't be tempted to hold her hand again.

"So what it is you wanted to talk about?" Hermione started as soon as they were outside of the castle. It wasn't too hot outside yet, thankfully. Comfortable enough to stay out as long as they wanted.

Harry turned to her with a knowing smile. "We can't just walk?"

"Not with you. Anytime we've taken a walk, it's because there's something on your mind."

"Maybe I've decided to try something new."

Hermione just rolled her eyes playfully. "Where are we going?"

"Our spot?"

As they headed down the stairs, Harry heard Hermione stop behind him for the briefest of moments before continuing, moving a little faster to keep up with him. Their spot was under a small cluster of trees on the side of the lake almost under the castle. It was mostly rocky, so not a lot of students went there, but during fourth year, Harry had convinced her to do a little more exploring "since I might die soon anyway." Hermione had rolled her eyes and replied with, "Stop saying that, Harry, or I might just petrify you so you can't even participate." As soon as he'd taken her hand to keep her balanced over the rocks, though, her protesting subsided greatly.

He did just that once more, just to make sure she was steady. Some of the rocks could get slippery, and he wanted to keep her safe, after all. They made their way over a few of them, stepping over gaps and hanging onto each other for balance until they came to the trees. They could never see them from anywhere else on the grounds, so they were confident they were two of the few students, if not the only ones (they hadn't even told Ron), that knew the rocks thinned out back to grass in the summer, where a cluster of three trees provided a little bit of shade.

Harry pulled out his wand and conjured a thick blanket for them to sit on, and when he turned to look at Hermione, she was looking down at the blanket with her arms crossed tightly in front of her chest. "What's wrong?"

"Hm? Nothing. Nothing. We just… haven't been here in a while, that's all."

"Since fifth year, I think," Harry answered. "After exams that one day, right?"

Hermione grinned, her face relaxing as she moved to sit down on the blanket, and Harry relaxed, too. The last thing he needed was for her to be upset.

"Mmhmm. Didn't you sneak treacle tarts down from the kitchen?"

"Two of them." Harry sat down next to Hermione; not as close as he wanted, but it was something.

"And you never told Cho?" she teased.

"Are you kidding? After Valentine's Day? She already accused me of trying to bring her on our date. I learned my lesson."

After a pause, Hermione said, "Everyone thought we were dating, didn't they?"

Harry laughed, leaning back on his hands after making sure the box was settled firmly in his pocket. "Yeah, they did."

"Did you ever think about me like that? Back then?"

"What do you mean?" Harry turned to look at her.

"Would you have dated me?"

"Of course, I would have."

"But you didn't."

She was looking out at the lake, over the water, which she tended to do when she was asking questions she wanted honest answers to. If she looked at him, she'd believe him.

"I didn't think about you like that back then, no. Didn't you fancy Ron, though? You wouldn't have wanted to date me, either."

"I would have gone to the ball with you, if you'd asked."

Harry swallowed. "Because we were friends?"

"Because you were one of the most important people in my life. You always have been, Harry. If Viktor hadn't asked me, and we knew Ron wasn't going to, I think I was hoping you would."

"Hoping?"

"Mmhmm."

Harry looked out over the water as well. "It killed me to see you in the lake. I only knew Ron was my person because he didn't mean anything to any of the others. Otherwise I would have gone for you first."

"You're just saying that."

"No, I'm not."

She was quiet for a minute or so. "What do you think would have happened, Harry? If there was no Voldemort, no war, nothing to fight against, no one trying to kill us. If Pettigrew had died that night in the Shrieking Shack. Where would we be, you and I?"

Another few seconds of silence. "Here, I think. Right here."

"And would we be together?"

"Probably not. Not yet, anyway."

He could see Hermione look over at him out of the corner of his eye. "Yet?"

Harry took a breath, his heart thudding a little harder. He'd been thinking about this a lot recently, too. "I think we would have dated other people first. Maybe for a few months, maybe for years. And during that time, it would always feel like something was off with whoever we were with. Like… they were great, but something was missing. That sense of familiarity and… and home. It wouldn't be there. And then, once we were out of Hogwarts and working and living our lives, I think we'd realize it. Probably you first. If Ollivander hadn't told us about the bond, I think we would have figured it out ourselves. I think we'd have realized, eventually, that we have something we wouldn't be able to find with anyone else, if we didn't want to settle for a puzzle that's missing a piece. Just one. Not enough to make it completely unusable, but enough to know you'd never be able to finish it."

"Harry…"

When he finally looked at her, there were tears streaming down her face, and he couldn't tell if they were happy tears or sad tears. Maybe a bit of both.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Sorry?"

"For breaking up with you."

"Hermione-"

"No, it was an awful thing for me to do, breaking up with you when we'd just ended a war! I don't know what I was thinking! I mean, I wasn't thinking! I wasn't thinking at all! I didn't think about how you'd feel, only how I was feeling and it… it wasn't right, Harry."

Harry took a moment before responding. He wasn't even sure what to say. He wanted to tell her she was right, of course. That no, she shouldn't have broken up with him and that no, she hadn't thought about him. But he didn't. He sat up a little straighter and pulled his knees to his chest.

"You thought it was the right thing to do at the time, Hermione. I understand why you did."

"But then you didn't even act like you cared-"

"I didn't," he admitted. "I told you I couldn't feel anything after I came back. It was just like… another conversation."

"Do you care now?"

"Do I care? Of course I do, Hermione," Harry breathed. "I absolutely hate not being with you. Do you know how hard it is every time I see you? All I want to do is-"

"Kiss me and play with my hair like you used to."

He paused, letting her words sink in. Neville had said she'd told everyone she could feel that he was still alive. She hadn't mentioned it, and he hadn't asked, but he remembered. He remembered the sudden emotions he got randomly that seemed out of place - they always happened when he and Hermione weren't near each other. He could have sworn he'd heard her tell him to kiss her back at Ron's house. Had he?

"How do you know?" Would she confirm it? Would she make up some excuse? They locked eyes for a moment as Harry's heart beat faster. Would he be able to kiss her tears away, or would she tell him it would just make things worse?

"I think it's still there," she whispered. "I don't think it's broken. Not completely. That's why…"

"We can't stay away from each other?" Hermione nodded. "How long have you known?"

"I had my suspicions the first night. I knew you were alive. After the final fight, though, it disappeared again. And I thought that having sex with you would bring it back, but… I don't think it did. Or maybe it brought back something, but I still couldn't feel you. And then at Fred's funeral, when we kissed-"

"Everything came back. I thought it was just me being happy to kiss you or something, but…"

"And then when we had sex the second time-"

"So that wasn't just me?"

"No. I didn't want to tell you because I didn't know if it was true, but it's been getting stronger lately. I didn't want it to change anything. I'm sorry about that, too. I… I've been an awful friend to you, Harry."

"You haven't-"

"I have! I had sex with you, broke up with you, stayed broken up with you because of some half-lie I'd forced myself to believe, realized I didn't want to stay broken up with you, but by the time I'd done that, it was too late and I couldn't just take it back. And then I feel like I've just been leading you on and confusing you so that I could pretend like… like everything was okay. Like nothing had changed and we could just… act like we were together even though we weren't." She wiped her eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath. "I'm just really, really sorry. And I should have apologized a long time ago."

It took all of Harry's willpower not to kiss her. She didn't want to be broken up with him anymore? They could be together again for real? He could kiss her whenever he wanted and not try to hide it. They could have sex whenever they wanted? Could he sleep with her again? He suddenly didn't even care about Draco being there. He realized he'd started smiling like an idiot while Hermione was still crying, and he quickly fixed it, softening his grin. He couldn't be too forward, but this seemed as good of a time as any.

He scooted closer to her, resting a hand on her cheek and wiping away her tears. "I forgive you, Hermione," he muttered. "It was hell to avoid you, but if I'm being honest, I was kind of okay with our arrangement if that's all you wanted… for the most part, anyway. But… thank you."

"You've just had to apologize for so much…"

"Well," Harry cleared his throat, "there was a reason I wanted to walk with you, actually." This was it. This was perfect. He could lead into them getting back together with the perfume, which he was now very grateful he'd got a box.

"Oh!" Hermione gasped, sniffing quickly as she wiped the rest of her tears and straightened herself out. "Of course. Here I was talking about myself and you've been trying to say something this whole time-"

"I wanted to give you something, actually." Hermione was watching him very closely with wide eyes, like she was already trying to figure it out. "It's, er, what I got at Diagon Alley that one day. The box I've been keeping from you."

Hermione's eyes widened even more as Harry reached into his jacket pocket and pulled it out.

"Harry…" she began in a cautious whisper, "Harry, that better not be a ring…"

"What?!" He almost dropped the box. "Why the hell would I get you a ring when we're not even together?!"

"Exactly! That was the problem!"

Harry paused again. "Wait, does that mean you'd say yes if we were together?" Honestly, the thought of a ring hadn't even crossed his mind. He wasn't even eighteen yet. He had no idea about how to be a decent boyfriend, let alone a husband. And would she just agree to it? Just like that? They'd kind of talked about spending their lives together, and he'd imagined what it would be like a handful of times, but not seriously-

"No! No, please don't… please don't propose to me. Not… erm… yeah. Just… just don't do that." She looked around quickly, fixing her hair. She'd gotten herself flustered.

She'd been about to say "not yet", hadn't she?

He wasn't sure how to respond, so he just extended his arm with the box in it. She took it with shaky hands and carefully wiggled off the top before taking the small purple bottle out.

"Perfume?"

"It's a special one… look in the bottle."

He watched as Hermione carefully picked it up and moved a little more into the sun. He hadn't thought of what it would mean if she couldn't see the butterfly, but his worry was erased as she let out a soft gasp, looking a little closer.

"Oh, it's beautiful, Harry…"

"Some people can't see it, so I'm not sure what it's supposed to mean, but I thought it was pretty and… I know you needed some new perfume."

Hermione was trying to swallow back fresh tears as she sprayed a little bit on her wrist and took a whiff after a few seconds. Then her eyes turned back to Harry with some sort of emotion he couldn't determine.

"What's wrong?" he mumbled. "Do you… not like the smell?"

"Did you make it?"

Harry's eyebrows furrowed together. "No… why? What does it smell like?"

"You. It's like… treacle tarts and worn leather and broom polish and… there's something else. Something-"

"Warm," Harry finished with a nod, biting back another grin. "To me it smelled like Amortentia. Yours. Except the vanilla - that wasn't there anymore."

"So does it smell different to everyone?"

"I don't know," Harry chuckled. "The man in the store didn't know much about it either; all he could say was that when I told him it smelled like the person I was buying it for, that it was the right choice."

Hermione blushed, and a slight breeze came off the water, drifting the smell over to Harry. She didn't look any different, and he didn't feel any different, so it couldn't have been true Amortentia, but he'd still be interested to see if he could maybe run it by Slughorn.

"It's like you're always with me," she said softly. "I wonder…" She shook her head, holding back her thought.

"What?"

"I'm just wondering if it'll maybe help with my panic attacks." She sprayed a little bit on her neck and closed her eyes, smiling as she breathed it in. Breathed Harry in.

"Well, whatever's in it is making me really want to kiss you right now." They were so close already. He could have just leaned in, but after their conversation, he didn't want to assume…

"You can." She hadn't opened her eyes, and with the way that the scent of the perfume was assaulting his critical thinking skills in the best way possible, their conversation, and the knowledge that they both understood that fundamentally, they were it for each other, he bypassed her lips completely and attached his lips to her neck, right under her jaw, and Hermione's hand came up to grip the front of his jacket as a breathy moan met his ears.

"I meant my lips," she teased.

"I'm getting there," Harry muttered against her skin. His arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her close, pressing kisses down her neck. "Does all this mean you want to get back together?"

"You know I can't answer truthfully when you're kissing me like this, Harry."

He pulled away then to look at her. "How about now?"

Hermione took a breath to compose herself. "I'm not going to say no. But… I don't want the bond to be the reason we get back together. Does that make sense? If we're going to do this, I want to do it right. We've been fighting it for weeks. And I don't want to just… be back together, I want to-"

"You want me to take you out on dates? A proper relationship."

Hermione nodded. "Yes. I expect dinner, fumbling, flowers, chocolates, hand-holding, the whole shebang."

"Anything," he grinned, finally pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

She kissed him back for a few seconds before muttering, "And you have to wait until I get back from France."

Harry pulled away suddenly. "France? I thought your parents were in Australia."