By the time Hermione and her parents arrived in London, she'd filled them in on everything about Harry, Voldemort, their horcrux hunting, and the battle, apologizing again and again for not telling them about any of it. "I wanted to keep you safe" only went so far, but she kept using it. They were, of course, just glad that she was okay and telling them now, but she could still sense hesitation they were trying to hide from her. Whether it was because she'd done magic on them without their consent or because of the danger she'd put herself in, Hermione couldn't be sure.

She hadn't slept much on the train, and she hadn't eaten much either, worried that they'd be under attack again or that someone else would find them. She wondered when all of it would stop. Even though the war was over, it seemed like she never stopped running or fighting or hiding from something or somebody, including herself. It was clear from her lack of memories that there was something else she needed to figure out, but who better to sort out her brain than herself? That didn't make her any less anxious about it, though. What if she would be like this forever? Hermione didn't want to waste too much of her perfume, so she only used it sparingly, but it seemed to work better when she was tired, allowing her a brief rest before her intrusive thoughts woke her, cheeks hot with tears, pressed against the window.

Her heart floated down to her stomach when they exited King's Cross to find a cat waiting for them near the entrance. People were parting for her as she sat, unmoving. It had been expected, obviously, but even in cat form, McGonagall didn't look pleased with her. She'd seen the cat enough times to know exactly who it was, but with the shock of all the magic already taking a toll on her parents, she certainly didn't want to introduce them to transfiguration of all things. Though the thought of explaining that this cat was the headmistress made her chuckle to herself. If only it were in better circumstances.

It seemed, however, that McGonagall knew that, because as soon as she spotted them, she tilted her head towards the back of the building and trotted off. Hermione paused for a moment, allowing herself to breathe in the fact that she was home. Close to it, anyway. The traffic in front of the train station was always awful, but she was grateful she was getting to experience it with her parents again, exhaust fumes aside.

"Mum, Dad, our entrance is going to be around the back. McGonagall will be waiting there. Do you remember her? She's the one that gave me my Hogwarts letter. She's been working closely with the Ministry to find somewhere safe for you to stay since Draco got back. And she's headmistress now, too." They nodded like they understood, but Hermione had a sneaking suspicion that all her words were going in one ear and out the other. It didn't matter - it helped to run through things with herself too.

"Oh, Hermione." McGonagall, back in her human form, immediately pulled her into a hug as soon as they crossed the corner in the back of the building. "I'm so glad you're all right. I couldn't believe when Draco showed up with that Death Eater at the Ministry and he said you two had gone to France! Why on Earth didn't you tell anyone?! We could have sent backup! Now you've gone and made me look like a rubbish headmistress for not even realizing!"

Her concern brought a smile to Hermione's face. She hadn't realized how much McGonagall had come to be somewhat of a parental figure to her. Maybe not a mother; more like a great aunt. "I just didn't want to worry anybody. I know you and Kingsley have more important things to do than-"

"Protect you? Certainly not. Not in a case where there are ex-Death Eaters involved. Mr. and Mrs. Granger, I'm very sorry we've been so irresponsible lately, especially with your daughter. We've had a lot of our plates, though that's no excuse. Your travels here were well, I hope?"

"As well as they can be, I suppose," Mrs. Granger answered with a slightly nervous smile. Hermione could tell it came from her mostly trying to be polite. "Hermione's always been stubborn, though, and apparently getting herself into a lot of trouble lately she hasn't told anyone about." Hermione looked down at her feet as she was scolded from the Wizarding and Muggle worlds. "But," her mother continued, "she's brilliant and resourceful and clearly very capable of taking care of herself when it's necessary."

"Oh, yes. She's been an invaluable asset to the school as well as her friends. You two have raised an incredible daughter."

Hermione couldn't do much but blush at the way they were talking about her - she hadn't felt very incredible lately. She was sore and tired, worried about what was going to happen when she got back to Hogwarts, and now the bond that had given her so much comfort before the battle was starting to become a nuisance. More than once, she'd found herself wishing that it was gone so that she could go back to being in control of her own brain again. If she were, she knew she'd have no trouble seeing Harry again, instead of the anxiety that threatened to creep into her stomach every time she thought about it. Traveling was almost as draining as the fights were, and the adrenaline that had kept her sane had worn off by the time they'd gotten to Paris.

"Did Draco tell you what happened?" she asked. Hermione didn't want to interrupt, and she enjoyed spending time with her parents, but she knew they needed a break as much as she did to process the last twenty four hours.

"Yes, he did. I'm not sure how he got that Portkey, either, but we'll discuss that with him later. I'm sure you know as well as he does that it's not legal to have an unregistered one, helpful or not." Hermione nodded. "Luckily, since we are not the old Ministry, I have a feeling Kingsley will find a way to let it slide. He'll be official at the end of the week, so this was very good timing for all of this, actually. I think the most comfortable course of action right now would be to set them up back at home and arrange for constant Auror protection. At least until all of this dies down." At Hermione's look of protest, she continued. "Kingsley has already had the perimeter and surrounding areas checked as well as charmed for protection and concealment."

"But Headmistress-"

"They'll be safe. Safer that they are here right now out in the open. Now, there's a taxi waiting to take you and your parents back. I expect they're more than ready to be home again."

"Very much so," Mr. Granger said suddenly. They'd been quiet, but respectful. "Thank you, er… Headmistress McGonagall. We appreciate everything you're doing to keep us safe, even though we're... what do you call them? People without magic?"

"Muggles," McGonagall said with a smile. "Please do know that most of us in the Wizarding world have absolutely no disrespect towards you. Just-"

"The bad ones," he finished, and McGonagall nodded. "Well, still. Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"Will you be coming with us?" Hermione asked.

"I'm afraid not. I know there's a certain boy at Hogwarts I'll need to pacify once word gets out that you're back in London if he hasn't been harassing Mr. Malfoy. But between you and me, I'm hoping he does," she grinned. "We've also connected your fireplace to the Floo network should you need to use it at any time. It's a magical way of communicating. Startling at first, though, Mr. and Mrs. Granger. You needn't worry about it. Nobody will be entering and exiting unless there's an emergency."

"They won't be what?!"

"I'll explain on the way," Hermione laughed at her parents' expressions as she thanked McGonagall again and headed back out to the street, looking for the taxi.

It was well after lunch by the time she got back to Hogwarts. She had helped her parents set all their things up - it was a slow process as there was a piece of their lives they were still grieving - and triple checked the enchantments that were placed around the house. It was nostalgic being in a place she never thought she'd get the chance to go back to. Everything seemed well-protected, though, as she knew the Ministry was capable of handling. There were even a couple of Aurors waiting at the front door for them, ready to present their badges to Hermione and introduce themselves to her parents. They were still there when Hermione left, and she knew she just needed to give up her need to control and let the trained professionals take this one over, at least for the time being.

The only thing she felt once she Apparated back to the castle was relief. That was one thing checked off her list. One step done. The next thing needed to be figuring out what was going on with her memories, but it wasn't. The next thing on her list was Harry.

Okay, maybe not quite like that. Seeing Harry was next on her list. Just being closer to him in distance made her feel more energized. She supposed being so far away from him had taken more of a physical toll than she'd expected. Rolling her shoulders, she took a deep breath as she stepped into the entrance hall. Harry wasn't there waiting for her. Of course he isn't, she reminded herself. He doesn't even know you're back. No one does.

Oh, the power she had in that moment. The only movement she saw was Crookshanks sprinting up to her, heavy feet galloping against the stone as he chirped with affection. "Crooks!" she called, squatting down to pick him up. He snuggled into her arms like he also felt she'd been gone for longer than a few days. "I missed you, too. Hope you kept Harry in check for me. Have I missed much? Where is everyone?"

Crookshanks just chirped again, stretching his neck out as Hermione scratched under his chin while she walked around to the usual spots. No one was in the Great Hall, the kitchen, or the library. She put Crookshanks down onto the floor and breathed deeply, focusing on the bond's pull for the first time in a while. It seemed to surface with relief, washing over her like a hot bath. At the same time, her fingertips tingled with pain as if she'd been shocked. Was it going to be like this all the time? This dichotomy of the bond wanting to see him and punishing her for it at the same time? She needed to put a stop to that immediately, but for the moment, she endured. Based on the direction and vague distance, she knew exactly where he was.

Harry wasn't the only one she could see at the Quidditch Pitch. It looked like he, Ron, Ginny, and Katie were all flying around without any direction until a blaze of feathers soared up above their heads and all four of them immediately zoomed after it. Indistinct yelling followed as well as laughs. They were chasing Artemis, who was diving and banking like he was after the Snitch. Maybe Ron had taken the initiative to start their unofficial team after all. Good. She'd been missing going to games anyway, especially now that Harry might be her boyfriend again soon. Ugh. She hated thinking about it like that, but it was true. They weren't together. Not yet. Which she needed to work on. And the closer she got to the Pitch, her eyes glued to Harry as he smiled, his hair flying every which way in the wind and thinking about the pink she knew would be on his cheeks and his nose from the wind, she needed to work on that quickly, because knowing him, "starting over" meant starting over.

Quickly ascending the stairs, she tried to make herself as inconspicuous as possible, though she suspected Harry might be able to feel her. She took a seat next to Luna, who was sitting in the stands next to Neville, Lavender and another couple Ravenclaws.

"Oh! Welcome back, Hermione! We were all very worried about you!" she began.

"Really?" Harry had probably told everyone where she'd gone, but she hadn't really thought anyone would be too concerned.

"Of course! You're really one of my only friends, and I'd hate for anything to happen to you!"

Hermione blushed a little. "Well, thank you, Luna. That means a lot, actually. Hi, Neville! Hi, Lavender! Did I miss anything while I was gone?"

"Just this," Neville explained, gesturing to the game. "It's only their first practice. They're most of the team up there, but they had the newbies clear out once Artemis decided he wanted to play, too. Just because they're not as good at flying, you know. Didn't want anyone to get hurt."

"How noble," Hermione teased. "They look like they're having a good time, though." She watched as Artemis began doing corkscrews through the goal posts. She wasn't even sure if he was chasing the Snitch anymore, but he seemed to be having just as much fun as the team. "Who all joined?"

"There's one fourth year from Hufflepuff, and a couple fifth and sixths from Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, who've been trying out for the teams a couple years now and just haven't gotten in."

"Are they not good?" she asked.

"They're decent. I think Harry's doing a bit of scouting for the official team this year, too. Though he's thinking about making Ginny captain. She just doesn't know it yet."

"Really?"

"Yeah," he grinned, "so you didn't hear it from me."

Hermione smiled. Harry appointing Ginny as captain was huge for him. And for Ginny. Hermione had noticed how quiet she'd been at first, though that had improved a little recently. She was chattier, more sociable, and generally seemed to be happier. They all would be, with time. She knew that. There was clearly something about Quidditch, though, about flying, that made everything slightly less than the impossible it had been before. And for Ginny, the youngest one of them who'd had to go through the same shit, Hermione felt grateful that Harry would be willing to hand that over. He really was noble after all.

"I just don't know how they do it," Lavender said softly. "I can barely even keep myself on a broom, much less... all that."

"You and me both," Hermione laughed. "And that's why we're here watching and not out there making fools of ourselves."

"Speaking of which," Neville snorted, his gaze moving back out over the pitch as some sort of yelping was heard.

Hermione looked toward the noise, too, and found that Harry had somehow managed to finally notice her and flown headfirst into Katie, who'd stopped for just a second in Harry's path. Katie had almost fallen off her broom, having not expected the collision, and Ron had to speed over to them to catch Katie in case she fell, chastising Harry for not watching where he was going. But Harry didn't care; his eyes were locked on Hermione's, and a churning thunderstorm of butterflies erupted in her stomach that actually made her kind of nauseous. She swallowed it down quickly in anger - how dare she let this stupid bond make her feel like this about him. Now that she was conscious of it, she wasn't going to let it win. The vibrant green was back, even at this distance, and she couldn't look away.

"Let's uh... let's take five, everyone?" he called to the rest of the team without taking his eyes off her. "Maybe ten? Sorry again, Katie. I'll, er... watch where I'm going next time."

"No, you won't."

But Harry wasn't paying attention, already halfway to the ground by the time Hermione stood and started back down the stairs. He didn't care that he was sweaty, and he knew she certainly didn't, so as soon as his feet hit the grass, he tossed his broom down and jogged to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and picking her up in a version of her own bone-crushing hugs. No one had even known she'd gone on the mission until Kingsley and McGonagall had come to him with a question of why there had been a Death Eater Apparated to the front door of the Ministry of Magic alongside Draco Malfoy without any of the Aurors knowing about it. He hadn't known anything about the Death Eater either, but he did have to admit that he'd known that Draco and Hermione had left the castle and, as usual, hadn't thought to get anyone else involved. He hadn't even paid attention to the scolding, more worried about Hermione than anything else since she hadn't come back, and until McGonagall said, "Yes, Potter, Mr. Malfoy promised that she's all right," he'd practically been holding his breath.

They hadn't spent more than a night away from each other since they started the horcrux hunt, and though the first day had been bearable, the way he felt himself missing her more and more with each passing hour combined with his worry had proven to keep him from getting much rest. He'd hoped Quidditch would exhaust him enough to force a good sleep out of him, but as soon as he saw Hermione talking to Neville in the stands, his brain short-circuited. He couldn't get her in his arms fast enough, and he would have just pulled her onto his broom if she didn't hate flying so much. She was a little tense, but laughing as her feet left the ground for a few seconds.

"Did you miss me or something?" she teased once she pulled away, content with locking her arms around Harry's neck. His gaze fell to her lips, and when he looked back up, Hermione had raised an eyebrow as if to dare him to try to kiss her. For a second, he contemplated the challenge, because God, did he want to kiss her, but he somehow managed to restrain himself.

"Of course I did. McGonagall got on my arse for not telling them what you were doing, though, just so you know. And Kingsley."

"Don't worry, between her and my mum, I felt like a properly scolded child."

Harry paused for a moment, a million different questions running through his head. What was even appropriate to ask? Finally, he settled on, "How are they?"

"They're all right. They're safe. That's what matters. I'm not... they're not incredibly happy with me for a lot of reasons, but I think they're trying to understand what I did and coming to terms with it. Which is... Harry, I need to talk to you about something. I think the bond is-"

"Yeah," he interrupted. "I... I wanted to tell you something about it, too." His hands moved over her back comfortingly, and he thought he felt her lean into it. "I actually wrote a letter to Ollivander, and-"

"Hey, Harry!" Ron called behind him. "Did you forget we were in the middle of practice?" he asked with a grin, just to get on Harry's nerves.

Harry rolled his eyes playfully and turned around without letting her go all the way, a hand lingering on her waist. "You still need the Snitch!"

"No, we don't!" Ginny landed next to Harry with the golden ball in her hand, shoving it into his chest as Artemis swooped down onto the grass beside her. "Here."

"What?! He wasn't letting any of us near him. How'd you get it?"

A soft smirk came over Ginny's face. "Guess I just have a way with owls."

"That's because Pig's well-behaved," Harry argued.

"Maybe it's just you."

Harry just narrowed his eyes playfully, turning back to Hermione. "We'll talk later?"

"Of course. I'll wait for you."

"In the shower?"

"Harry."

"Worth a shot."

"Gross." Ginny laughed. "Glad you're back, Hermione." She closed the small distance between them to give her a tight one-armed hug that Hermione gratefully returned. "I knew you wouldn't be gone long. Kind of jealous you got to go to France, though," she teased as she pulled away.

"You got to go to Egypt when you were twelve, all right? I think we're just even now." Hermione grinned. "And for the record, Harry, it is just you. At least with Artemis. You know he likes to keep you on your toes."

Harry rolled his eyes playfully. "Yeah, yeah. Can we just get back to the game?"

"That's what we've been trying to tell you this whole time, Harry." Ginny threw Hermione a wink and Harry squeezed her hand one final time before jogging back onto the field.

It was clear that Harry spent the rest of practice showing off. Artemis settled down somewhere in the stands above their heads while he watched Harry dive, loop, and swerve. Something about seeing him fly while at the same time knowing what was underneath all those robes made the whole experience different somehow. She sat in the front row, leaning her elbows on the edge as her eyes followed him. All she needed was a shirt with his name on the back of it, but she didn't want to get ahead of herself. Clearly the unaffected part was in control at the moment - if only it could stay that way. She might as well enjoy it while it lasted. After this was over, it would be time for the hard stuff. The conversations about what was going to happen. She had to tell Harry that something was wrong and he had something to tell her, too.

She ended up waiting for him leaning against the wall on a bench outside the locker rooms, somewhere she'd never really been before. Under the stands, the size of the Quidditch Pitch really hit her. She'd never noticed all the thick wooden beams, criss crossing each other for support, light flickering through where the flags fluttered against the sides. The sound was strangely calming, and she found her eyes closing on their own accord before a hand touched her shoulder gingerly.

"Hermione?"

"Hmm?" she hummed, opening her eyes to find a no longer sweaty Harry who had already changed clothes looking at her with a soft smile on his face. How long had she been out? "Sorry, I'm just... tired."

"I'm sure. We need to talk anyway... do you want to go to the library or something? Somewhere quiet?"

"Actually, I was thinking maybe we could just go back to my room? I mean, I need to unpack and all that, too, so-"

"What about Draco?"

"I'll kick him out if he's there. I'm sure he's already had enough of me anyway," she said with a grin as she stood up.

"Can I hold your hand?" he asked after a pause. It felt weird to ask and not just take it, but if they were going to start over properly, he couldn't just assume he had those privileges anymore, because that's what they were. And if they were just staying friends, maybe all this would mean something different, but they weren't just staying friends. At least, he hoped she hadn't changed her mind.

"Sure."

It was strange, just holding hands and walking through the halls like for once, they really were just teenagers. A lot of things had felt strange lately, but it was a different kind of strange. Before, the scary felt normal. Now that it was over, the normal felt scary. It was stupid that the most Harry had to worry about now was a successful date, but starting like this was much more difficult that just... deciding they were together, but Hermione deserved more than that. He'd been wanting to give her all this for months, and now he had his chance. Though in order to get to the date, he had to ask her. Maybe Neville was onto something - finding all those horcruxes kind of made him a little less nervous. And yes, he was allowed to be dramatic about it.

Hermione was gripping his hand tightly, staying close enough to him that their arms would brush against each other every few seconds. There was a moment where he could sense hesitation from her, and he desperately wanted to ask what she was thinking about, but he just took a breath instead. This was about trust. She said she wanted to talk to him, and she would. "So..." he started, "how was France?"

"Beautiful," she answered with a soft smile. "I wish I could have stayed longer and in better circumstances, but I'll go back. There was so much I'd love for you to see. We... we went to Place Cachee, actually. That's, like, the Paris version of Diagon Alley. I meant to get you a gift, too. They have a Quidditch store there that had the most beautiful robes and jumpers with all kinds of gold trimming, and that's just what I saw from the outside. We didn't get to go in, because... well... oh! I also saw this owl that looked just like Hedwig. That's... actually what I wanted to talk about."

"Hedwig?"

"No," she muttered, biting her lip as he looked over at her. "Something's... altering my memories. It's like... it's like I can remember some things, but starting as far back as when we first met, I... I know it was on the train and I was looking for Trevor and I saw Ron, but then..."

"You fixed my glasses," he interjected solemnly. He'd been aware that there would be some sort of backlash based on Ollivander's letter, but altering her memories? This wasn't something they'd be able to fix on their own. Not fully, anyway.

"I..." She stopped walking for a moment, staring down at the floor with immense concentration, like Harry knew she got when she was in her own head. "That's right... I did, didn't I? I... think I kind of remember."

"It was the first spell I'd ever seen, so it was even more impressive."

"How did they break?"

Harry laughed at the memory, tugging her hand to keep her walking again. "Fell up the stairs. Really. Promise. All by myself, too. Tripped over my own shoelaces on the third step and they went flying. Landed right on top of them."

"You've never tripped over your shoelaces since I've known you. At least, not that I can remember. Which, right now, isn't really saying much. Have you?"

"Not that I can think of. I supposed I've learned to walk better now, haven't I?"

"Maybe a little," she smiled, then it dropped again. "You were saying you wrote to Ollivander?"

"Yeah, I did," Harry admitted. "I thought he might be the only person that would know... something. And I was doing some thinking while you were gone about... er... the... inconsistencies."

Hermione's eyebrow raised. "Inconsistencies?"

He knew he had to think quickly to give himself any chance of her being receptive to being asked out after this conversation. "Just between some of the things you're saying, but... the other stuff you're feeling."

"Okay...?"

"Well, basically, we think what's happening is that... are you sure you want to talk about this now?" he asked, running his free hand through his hair.

"Harry, I just want to get it over with, okay? Just please tell me what's going on because I'm really frustrated with myself right now."

"Okay, okay..." They'd made it to the Head Dorms, and Harry took a deep breath as the portrait swung open with no issues. "We'll get inside and get comfortable and then I'll explain everything. I just don't want to..." Taking in the state of the common room, Harry trailed off. The black leather was once again burgundy fabric, and the previously silver accents were gold. "He's gone."

Sure enough, Harry's name was engraved onto the plaque on the other bedroom door, and as he walked in, the glint of shine caught his eyes on the desk. The Head Boy badge was sitting on top of a piece of parchment.

Here. I was getting tired of living with Granger anyway. I'm already enjoying having the dungeons to myself. -DM

"Hermione, what happened?" He turned the badge over in his hand, almost as if it were a joke. He couldn't imagine Draco just up and distancing himself like this. Not without cause.

"We were followed, Harry," Hermione began after taking a deep breath to center herself. "Everything was fine when we got there and..." She paused, acknowledging the urge to tell Harry about what Draco had said. About his scars. About the attack. She felt herself getting upset all over again, ready to lay into him. But she swallowed down the urge; she wanted to relax, and talking about all of that would just get her worked up again. That was something that could wait until later.

"He... he lied to a Death Eater too, though. When we were in Place Cachee, one... the one he sent back... he came up to us and Draco made him think that he'd put me under the Imperius Curse so I would travel with him and... and he said something about me being his project. Like... Harry, they were talking about it like they'd discussed it before and I never asked him about it because I don't think I want to know the answer," she admitted. "And my memory being all messed up is just making thing so much more confusing-"

"Did he attack you?" Harry interrupted as his hands curled into fists. He could find out exactly which Death Eater it was that had been dropped off - maybe he could interrogate him and find out what he knew. How he found Hermione.

"No. No, not then. It wasn't until we were my parents' that he came back. Luckily Draco was keeping watch and I heard the commotion and jumped in. We were fine. He wasn't that good anyway." She swallowed thickly. "So, what did Ollivander say is happening?" As much as she wanted to talk about everything, it was clearly making Harry upset, which she desperately wanted to avoid, especially when everything had been starting to go so well. She leaned her head against Harry's shoulder and felt him relax indiscernibly.

"He thinks the bond may be affecting your emotions. Specifically, your emotions regarding me since this all seemed to start after the battle and I was the one that changed things the most."

"Why?"

Harry took a breath. "Because I was the one that broke the bond. It's… trying to turn you against me, I think."

"You?" she whispered. "How would you have broken it?"

"By… killing Voldemort. We think some of his soul transferred to you. Like when you said before that you could sense all the dark stuff and… and when you could feel him, too."

"Wait, you're saying that I could be a horcrux too?! Are we going to have to start all over again? Could Voldemort come back?!"

"No! No!" Harry quickly answered, his hands resting firmly on her shoulders. He could see the immediate fear in her eyes, and he pulled her to his chest so he didn't have to look at it. "No. You're not a horcrux, Hermione. There are no more. It's just the bond. He didn't create that - it's always been there. Does that make sense?" Her heart slowed after a few seconds as her brilliant mind made sense of it all.

Once she gathered her thoughts, she spoke again, softly into Harry's shirt. "And somehow the bit that's in me can sense that it was you , because it was like a piece of itself. And now it wants me to be mad at you because of that." She furrowed her eyebrows, trying to process all the information Harry was giving her. She'd been connected to Voldemort? All three of them had been connected? And when Harry killed him, it was like she'd lost a piece of herself? That was why it hurt so much? That was why she had felt nauseous?

"Essentially, yes."

Hermione pulled away to run a hand through her hair as tears prickled behind her eyes. "Is that why I've felt so confused?"

"Probably."

"Is…" she wiped her face and looked at him again, "do you think that's why I… broke up with you?" What had arguably been the worst decision of her life hadn't even been hers? She wasn't sure if that made things better or worse, but at least now she knew, deep down, why she'd done it, which just made her desire to fix it even stronger.

Harry rubbed the back of his neck, weighing his next words carefully. "Well, I… I can't say for sure, because I don't… I'm not in your head, but… it's a possibility that it would have been a strong and… rash reaction to me breaking the bond that your piece of the bond kind of… turned on me when it realized what had happened."

"And what about your piece?"

"Well… er… my piece is fine. As far as I can tell. Only because I was the one to break it, you know, so it's… it's not really reacting to me. And, erm, Ollivander said that we may need to look at your memories to get to the source of the problem, to see if that's what's going on or if anything's changed in your head. I know we can use Dumbledore's Pensive-"

"Can we go now?" she asked in a rush. The quicker she could get this weirdness gone and feeling back to herself the better.

But Harry's hand held firm against hers. "I thought you wanted to take a nap."

"I do, but-"

"It's not going to get any worse, Hermione. It can wait. Please. Just… rest. You need it. You deserve it. Come on."

Hermione knew Harry was right, and after a few seconds of him just staring at her, she begrudgingly nodded as an unexpected yawn came over her at the thought of getting to sleep in a real bed again. She stood and wiped her eyes once more. She probably looked like a disaster; it was a wonder Harry even wanted anything to do with her. Had she even showered since she left?

Harry walked her towards her room, and didn't seem to have any problem going in behind her, just like before. She squeezed his hand a little tighter.

"I think I'm going to shower," she sighed, reaching up subconsciously to pull her ponytail holder out. "How long were you planning on staying in here?"

"As long as you want me to." Want. Not need. He needed to go get his trunk from his room and find Draco to thank him, but if Hermione didn't want him to leave her sight, he'd happily oblige. He'd wear the same clothes.

Hermione's lips pulled up in a smile. "Okay. Good. I'll try not to be long."

"Take your time," Harry insisted. "Do you want me to unpack anything for you?"

"Actually, yeah. That would be great." She maneuvered her beaded bag over her head and handed it over to Harry. "You know the drill. Sorry there's nothing for you in there."

"Maybe date number two will be Paris."

"Number two? You haven't even asked me on the first one yet," she grinned.

"I'm working on it."

As Hermione was taking a shower and Harry was unpacking her things, it wasn't lost on him as to how much she was trusting him. Inside her suitcase, carefully wrapped in a jumper - actually his jumper, now that he looked at it - was a small black leather-bound notebook he'd seen a lot over the past year. It had become her brain, her notes, her plans, her journal. He set it on the desk, not even tempted to open it in the slightest. Maybe a couple years ago, he would have been, but now, it really didn't matter. He didn't need to know what had been going on inside her head, especially when she was so conflicted about everything herself.

Her clothes were back in the dresser (though very hastily thrown in) and everything else took up space on the couple of flat surfaces available. She came back out dressed in pajamas, clearly not planning on leaving the dorm for the rest of the night if she could help it, even though it was only early evening. He could get them dinner. Maybe a pre-date in front of the fireplace in the common room.

"I think you're right, Harry." Hermione said softly as she took a seat on the bed and pulled her knees to her chest. It was the way she sat when she was upset, trying to close in on herself. Normally, he'd try to stop it, but tonight, he let her. He hated seeing it, but he knew pulling her out of her own thoughts wouldn't do her much good right now.

"About?" Hesitantly, he toed his shoes off and climbed on the bed next to her, mirroring her pose as he looked over at her.

"I was thinking about the times where… when I felt the most strongly about you. Negatively, I mean. Because there are times where it feels like nothing's changed, you know? Like when we were by the lake, right before I left, I… all I could focus on was how much I loved you. Love you," she quickly corrected. "Because I don't want you to think that I don't anymore. But right after the last battle and… the lack of sleep… when I was in France, when I'm worried about my parents, those are the times I think it's the worst. When I'm stressed. And that's what makes it so confusing because when I was stressed before, you were what calmed me down and now it's like my body doesn't want that anymore."

"And… what about right now?"

She met his eyes, giving him the smile he knew was his alone, and let out a breath. "Right now, I really want to kiss you. But I know you'll probably tell me no." That didn't stop her gaze from flickering down to his lips.

Harry just grinned. "So when you're relaxed, you love me again?"

"Well, when you put it like that, it sounds awful," she laughed. "But yes. I think so. At least, that's the conclusion I've come to while I was in the shower."

"I just need to keep you unstressed, then, yeah? That's, like, your default, so it should be a piece of cake."

"Me? Un stressed? I think you've confused me with another Hermione from an alternate universe or something."

"That would explain a lot."

The pillow behind Hermione hit him square in the chest, and he retaliated by taking the one on his side of the bed and smacking her shoulder. She gasped, not actually expecting him to have hit her back, and swung the pillow again with a little more force, unable to stop another laugh from escaping her throat. With a laugh as infectious as hers, Harry was laughing too while they had a miniature pillow fight in the confines of Hermione's bed. It was the most alive he'd felt off the Quidditch Pitch, and when he finally had her beat, their pillows on the floor and Harry pinning her hands above her head, panting softly as he looked down at her flushed cheeks, he knew they'd be okay.

"Hermione?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you want to go see a movie with me?"

" This is what you chose for us?" Hermione asked, brow raised as she eyed the poster for Mr. Magoo attached to the outside of the theater. In the two days since Hermione's return, Harry had rushed to find a suitable movie. He'd planned on going to the cinema with her on their first date; it was easy. Classic. A good opportunity for them to sit close and enjoy the Muggle world for a bit. She'd also asked him to sleep in her bed, and even though they hadn't even kissed again yet, he couldn't say no to that opportunity. Hermione had slept like a rock with him next to her again, and he found that he'd been able to sleep easier, too.

"And that's exactly why I wasn't going to tell you what movie it was," Harry sighed, "because I knew you wouldn't want to have anything to do with it-"

"No!" she quickly corrected. "No, that's not it at all. It's just… it looks like… I mean, it's rated PG."

"...And?"

Hermione fought a smile as she followed Harry inside after he'd bought the tickets. She could tell he was nervous, though she wasn't really sure why, but she didn't want to make it worse. "I just think it's funny, that's all. Out of all these movies that you chose-"

"The one that didn't have anything bad happening in it. No fighting, no awful romances, no death," Harry explained with a sigh. He knew it wasn't on purpose, and he wasn't sure it was entirely just Hermione speaking, but she used to trust him so easily. She trusted him with everything, even something as simple as making coffee just the way she liked it. Now, it seemed like all that was gone. For the moment, he reminded himself. He just had to wait it out and hoped she got frustrated enough with herself that she realized what she'd said. "I looked them all up, Hermione. I did my research and I thought we needed something that might make us laugh for a couple hours."

Hermione fell silent, swallowing thickly. Even more proof she had no idea how to do this. Starting their relationship with snogging seemed much easier, and a part of her wished they could go back to that. But this was better. More work. More honest. She didn't know if it was better to just speak to Harry like she normally would and be able to carry on a conversation or if the best thing would be to just shut up, since clearly she had no control over which part of her decided to speak up at any given time anymore. She wasn't stressed at the moment, but if she paid attention, she was a little nervous. Harry took her hand (which made her feel immensely better) as they walked down the small hallway to theater two, not speaking again until they were settled into their seats. "I've already ruined this date, haven't I?"

"What? No! And even if you did, I'd give you another chance. I think you should always give two dates to really know if it'll work, right?" he teased, squeezing her hand to pull her closer.

"I didn't mean to be so critical. I think it's a brilliant choice and I'm sorry for doubting you and," she took a deep breath, "for making you feel like I don't approve of your decisions."

Harry could tell Hermione was struggling, but not with the apology. She was struggling with needing it. With saying what she'd said in the first place. They had scheduled an appointment with Greenwood later in the week, but had wanted to take a look into the Pensieve first to see if they could find anything that way. It had been a long couple days of Hermione deep in her journal, trying to track her thoughts for the first time in a long time, and Harry just watching, unable to help. "Thank you. I know." He leaned over to press a kiss to her temple, and her eyes fluttered shut.

"It's like it's getting worse," she answered in a shaky whisper. "I'm trying, Harry, I really am-"

"It's okay," he promised. "I know exactly what it feels like to not be in control of your own thoughts, all right? Come here." Harry pulled her out of her seat and into his lap. Her body was stiff, but he tightened his arms around her anyway, rubbing over her skin until she forced herself to settle down.

Hermione wasn't sure how much of a grudge her side of the bond seemed to be holding against Harry, but the closer she was to him, the harder things were becoming. The more she had to swallow down, stomp down, push to the side. But she would. As hard as it was, even if it was for the rest of her life. She pressed her cheek against Harry's, trying to pay attention to the previews until the movie started. Harry tried to keep his hands off her skin, as that seemed to be the hardest, especially with how much he wanted to take advantage of the empty theater and press kisses down the column of her neck. Instead, he brushed his fingers through the ends of her hair, twirled them through loose curls, and stayed silent as the movie finally started.

He quickly realized that Hermione was right, but so was he. She had been reluctant at first, almost as if she didn't want him to hear that she was enjoying something she didn't think she would. But he was proud every time he heard a chuckle come out of her mouth, and she'd managed to relax, not moving from his lap for the rest of the movie. In fact, Harry found himself watching her more than the actual movie. Her back was resting against his shoulder, just enough that he could see her profile, but he watched what she laughed at and what she rolled her eyes at, taking advantage of just being together like they'd just started dating and the last four years of turmoil hadn't happened. It wasn't much different from when he'd look over at her by the campfire. When the movie was done and the lights faded back up, Hermione stood, stretching from the position she'd been sitting in as Harry rose from his own seat.

"What?" he asked softly. Hermione was biting her lip, fighting a grin.

"I'm just still thinking about that scene with the chicken," she laughed, shaking her head and resting it on his shoulder while they walked out and around the back of the building, to the spot they'd Apparated.

"So you enjoyed it?"

"I did, yes. You were right. We definitely needed a laugh for a bit."

"Good," Harry smiled.

"What about you?"

He couldn't help but laugh himself. He really had enjoyed it, but he'd enjoyed being with Hermione more, if he was being honest. Just being with her on what was, now that he thought about it, his first successful date, was enough for him to have had a great time. "I think it was the stupidest movie I've ever seen."

"I think I had a pretty good seat, at least," she smirked, reaching over for his hand.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Hermione paused for a second. Her heart was beating out of her chest, which was stupid. She had no reason to be nervous. This was just a date with Harry. Her first date with Harry, she reminded herself. She was allowed to be nervous, wasn't she? Logically, it didn't make sense because there was nothing riding on this date. They were going to be together again. He'd be her boyfriend again, no doubt about it. But standing here, looking at the setting sun wash over his face, reflecting off his glasses and bathing his skin in reds and oranges, she couldn't help but feel like all of this was real. And maybe it was just the stupid bond grudge talking, but it wouldn't be difficult for her to pretend like she actually hadn't kissed him before. Only for a second, though, because she didn't want to kiss him like she'd never kissed him before.

"I told you no kissing on the first date," he said with a smirk that betrayed the confidence behind his words. "I know what you're thinking. I'm just trying to follow all the rules."

"Harry, we've already slept together."

"Doesn't matter." But he didn't stop her from inching closer, wrapping her arms around his neck. Surprisingly, he didn't feel nervous at all. Now that they were actually on their date, everything seemed so much… easier. All of the worrying parts were over and now was just the difficult task of having Hermione pressing herself against him and not kissing her. He kind of hated this rule he'd made up.

"Why do I have to love such an idiot?"

Blush slowly started to cover Harry's cheeks. He still couldn't believe that Hermione was in love with him half the time. He hadn't thought it would last, and now that it had started over, a weird part of him felt like he had to get used to it again, especially since their whole relationship seemed to be based on her thoughts about him at the moment. "Love? On the first date?" Harry cleared his throat. "Little early for that, isn't it? Shouldn't that be at least, like… date two?"

"Oh, we're going on another one?" she teased, her eyes not tearing from his. It made the conversation so much more intimate, and her gaze boring into his own was starting to make him falter. The gold in her eyes was molten in the sunlight. "Don't I have to agree to it?"

"Now you're just being rude. You definitely won't be snogging me if we don't even go on a second date. You'll have to ask… someone else. Maybe Josh? One of the Ravenclaws on the team? You'd love him. He's brilliant."

Hermione's eyes narrowed as she pulled away a fraction of an inch. "Maybe I'll just ask Draco."

"You wouldn't," Harry fake scowled, just met with a raised eyebrow from Hermione.

"You said I should ask someone else. And why waste time with someone I don't know rather than just go to-"

"Fuck it," Harry whispered. He was trying to stay strong, but for what? Ron and Lavender had started dating with a kiss. Neville had kissed Lavender before they started dating. What was he trying to prove? That he and Hermione were different? That they were better? It turned out that after having Hermione so close to him and on his lap all night, he was no better than the rest of them. His arm wrapped around Hermione's waist and he pressed his lips to hers gently, just to get it out of their systems. A soft hum vibrated against his lips that made him pull away. "There," he whispered, his eyes still closed. "Happy now that you got your bloody kiss?"

"Only took you two days," she grinned.

"You have no idea how hard it was."

"Then why were you trying so much?"

"Because I'm an idiot."

Hermione moved her hands down Harry's arms, linking their fingers together. "Well, I'd say that I definitely think a second date is in order. It's been a long time since I've been to the movies and… I'm sorry the night began the way it did," she sighed. "I really did have a good time."

"Even though we didn't really get to talk much?"

"We've known each other for eight years, Harry. What else could you possibly want to talk about?" Hermione asked with a teasing smile.

"You never really said much about your trip… plus I don't want to go back just yet. Do you fancy an ice cream? We've still got a bit before curfew."

With Harry looking at her like that, there was no way she'd be able to say no. "Ice cream sounds wonderful."

"Excellent. There's a place not far from here, so we should be able to walk."

Hermione raised an eyebrow in amusement. "You really have done your research for this, haven't you?"

"Impressed?" Harry smirked. "I wasn't just going to take you on a miserable first date you wouldn't enjoy." His arm snaked around Hermione's waist as he walked her back down the sidewalk.

"Well, I can confidently say that this is the best date I've been on, so you better one-up yourself for the next one."

It only took a few minutes for them to arrive at the chain, and they stayed silent as they waited in line, afraid that their topics of conversation would garner worry from the people around them. "I do wish they had butterbeer flavored," Hermione whispered.

She ended up getting pistachio almond, while Harry opted for banana caramel.

"I didn't know you liked bananas," Hermione mused as they sat down on one of the benches, turning a quarter to face each other. "I don't think I've ever seen you eat one at Hogwarts."

"They're never ripe enough," Harry explained around a spoonful. "I like them after they've got spots. It was an accident, really. There was one summer where Vernon and Petunia decided to put Dudley on a diet of just grapefruit. That's why I hate that smell. It was mad and completely pointless, but they bought him bananas when he started whining about not being able to have sweets, as if he'd go for that. Of course, he didn't eat them, so right before they were about to throw them out, I snagged one and I hadn't realized how different they taste when they get like that. Really sweet. I mean, I'll eat one if I have to but I know most people don't like them that way."

"Mum makes really good banana bread with those. Well, way after even you like them, probably. They look awful, but it's delicious. I just don't think I like them at all, though, ripe or not. Except in that bread," Hermione smiled. "I hope you get to try it one day."

"What, you don't plan to introduce me after all this now?"

"Of course I do! They know all about you already. It's only fair." Her foot nudged Harry's, and he smiled, too. "Mum actually… well, I'm pretty sure she knows how I feel about you already. Apparently it's been obvious the whole time."

"Except to us."

"Not at all! We're fixing it now, aren't we? Though, I've left out the whole soul bond bit, so just for their sake, we should probably just pretend that all this is the only thing going on," she laughed, before her face fell serious. Draco's admission of what Harry had done suddenly hit her again. They'd been doing that for a long time, hadn't they? Pretending. Pretending they were together. Pretending they weren't. Pretending they didn't know things. Would he just lie about what he'd done to Draco again like he had before? Of course he would, she reasoned. He didn't want to hurt her. Especially now, he didn't want her to think he was capable of hurting anybody, did he? All that was supposed to be behind him. He needed to talk himself up as much as he could.

But Harry wasn't that kind of person, she argued with herself. They'd both hurt people in the past. The only way she'd know for sure would be to just bloody ask him. And what better time to bring it up than when their date was on a high note. Of course she'd be bloody convincing herself to ruin this date again, wouldn't she? The question was out in the open before she could second guess herself.

"Harry, if I ask you something, will you be completely honest with me?"

"Of course," he answered instantly, frowning at the sudden change in tone. He'd thought they weren't keeping secrets anymore. Hadn't they decided on that? "What's wrong?"

"When... when you attacked Draco..." Hermione felt Harry stiffen next to her. "Did he attack you?"

"Yes."

"First?"

"Yes."

"Were any of the spells he used lethal?"

"No."

"So you using that spell wasn't self defense?"

Not entirely, he thought, but he knew the answer Hermione needed to hear. If she was asking him about this particular event, it meant she and Draco had talked about it or it had come up in conversation or… surely he wouldn't have gone out of that bathroom without any type of lasting damage. "Did you see-"

"Answer the question, Harry."

"No. It wasn't. I-I mean, I was defending myself, but... I could have used a lot of other spells." He closed his eyes, bracing himself for whatever was coming. What she was about to say or her standing up, throwing her ice cream on the ground and leaving back to Hogwarts, hating him even more than she already did and ruining any chance of getting back together with her because of a stupid mistake he'd made over a year ago. But she didn't move.

"Thank you," she whispered, her heart in her throat. He hadn't lied, even when he had the chance. He told her the truth. He'd made himself look bad just for the sake of honesty? The voice in her brain that was telling her otherwise seemed to be short-circuiting as it was proven wrong. "Thank you for being honest and realizing that... you did something you shouldn't have. He has... he has scars, Harry. A lot of them. He didn't want to tell you."

"Why?"

"Because he said it doesn't matter. He said he didn't even know that Muggles were getting hurt-"

"That's a lie," Harry argued immediately before lowering his voice so no one would start to eavesdrop. "There's no way he didn't know that. Weren't they getting killed in his own house?!"

"Muggleborns, yes, but not Muggles. I don't know why he would lie about something like that-"

"To get on your good side? Because that's what he's used to doing?"

"I thought you were giving him a second chance." Hermione could feel her blood pressure rising, and she knew most of the ice cream in her cup was probably melted at this point, but she didn't break eye contact. She didn't even know what she was gaining in defending him, but she'd felt compelled to. At the same time, she didn't want Harry to think she'd chosen Draco's side.

"I am," Harry answered. "But that doesn't mean I have to trust him completely. You shouldn't. He's been this way for eighteen years and that's not going to change overnight. I didn't mean it's intentional, but... maybe that's why he gave the badge back. Maybe he wants some distance."

That voice was back again, like a ringing in her ear, like an itch in the back of her mind she couldn't scratch. She blinked a couple times, as if that would help. "Maybe you're right," she finally answered, though she wasn't sure how convincing it was. Part of her didn't even believe herself. God, fighting with her own thoughts was beginning to get exhausting. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I brought him up." Hermione quickly ate a couple spoonfuls of ice cream; the shock of swallowing down something cold seemed to help bring her back to focus, and she took a breath.

"I'm still thinking of inviting him to join the Quidditch team. Even if he says no, I don't want to intentionally not include him, you know? Especially after he helped you so much. Not sure Ron's convinced, though."

Hermione sighed internally, thankful for a topic that didn't involve either of them. "Has he been doing better? Everyone, really. It seemed like everyone was having a good time yesterday."

"Yeah, they have. Honestly. We all have. Something about the danger and the teamwork, maybe. Though, admittedly, I haven't seen Ron as much. I thought since you were gone, he might want to hang out more, but…" Harry swallowed at the memory of the Marauder's Map, "okay I've been wanting to tell someone."

"Gossip?" Hermione's eyebrows raised.

"I think they're… hooking up. Ron and Katie, I mean." He waited a couple seconds to see what Hermione's reaction would be, but she just stared.

"And?"

"That's not weird to you?"

"Harry, they've fancied each other for years. Also, if I recall, we hooked up when we weren't even together-"

"That's different," Harry laughed. "At least we used to be."

"So, what, you want to tell them to stop?" Hermione asked as she finished off her ice cream, scraping the remains from the side of the cup.

"I don't know." The last bits of Harry's dessert was just soup in his cup. Not that he minded, but he swirled the spoon around in it slowly. "I don't care, obviously. I mean, I do, because Ron's my friend and Katie's my friend and it just made things complicated for us and I don't want the same thing to happen to them."

"It won't," Hermione promised. "But if you want me to talk to Katie-"

"No, that would be weird. Maybe we should just… have a conversation with them together? I'd feel better if you were with me."

"God, Harry, you sound like we're their parents or something." Harry was looking at her with those dumb pleading eyes of his, and she sighed. She knew it came from a place of caring and just not knowing what to say, but she really didn't want to concern herself with Ron's sex life if she could help it. "But I suppose if we just make it seem like we're telling them what's going on with our relationship, maybe we can find some kind of transition into theirs and they'll tell us what's going on, but I'm not making any promises, Harry."

"You're incredible, Hermione. Thank you!" He was grinning from ear to ear, and he reached over to pull her into a tight hug, which seemed to calm some of the raging storm of thoughts. She leaned into him for as long as she could, basking in the relief.

"You owe me, you know," she teased.

"All right. All right. Next date I'll bring flowers and chocolates."

"Deal."