November 2000

"I trust you."

It had all began with trust. As winter had transcended over the great fields of Hogwarts, it brought about miserable torrents of wind that rattled the window panes and thin bullets of drizzle and sleet that made the atmosphere at Hogwarts quite unbearable.

The layers of clothing Hermione had piled onto herself seemed to be futile, the cold penetrating the multiple sweaters she had on her body like a sword of ice. She shivered, chilled to her core, and suffering from an unbearable head cold. Her button nose was red and runny, and her forehead shiny with sweat (how in Merlin's name was she sweating if she wasn't hot?!).

You need rest dear, she could practically hear madam Pomfrey nag. Not even the reverence she held for the elderly lady could persuade her to go back to that dreary dormitory, where she'd be all alone with nothing to do, the boredom preying on her. The library was a better place to rest, and besides, being in the vicinity of literature always seemed to be a remedy to any of her ailments.

She entered the library, the warmth and smell of parchment immediately engulfing her in a welcoming embrace. She waved at the Librarian, who simply gave a grunt of acknowledgment, and took a seat at a table by the stained glass window in the history section of the library.

Having already memorized how each book in this section was organised, she pulled a book from one of the shelves, opened it, and proceeded to read, unbeknownst her that a figure was creeping up behind her.

"Boo." Despite this being barely loud enough to scare a mouse, Hermione screamed, dropping her book (Madam Pince shot her a venomous look).

"What the- you scared me, Harry." Hermione said, giggling.

The bespectacled raven haired boy took a seat next to her, hair plastered to his forehead and robes damp. His teeth rattled subtly as he shivered from the cold. Hermione eyed him. "Why are you wet?"

"I thought that I'd do a celebratory lap around the quidditch pitch, since Gryffindor won the house cup." He shrugged, as Hermione dried him with a lazy flick of her wrist.

"And did it not occur to you that this would be a bad idea, an idea probably worst than all the ideas you have ever spawned in your life time, Mr Potter?" Her mused.

"You sound like Snape." He commented. The couple chuckled.

"You're an idiot." She said, picking up her book and paging back to where she had left off before the interruption. "Yes, but I'm your idiot aren't I?" He replied, nuzzling close to her. Hermione shoved him lightly. "Not too close; you'll catch what I have."

"I don't mind, really." He whispered, lips brushing against the shell of her ear, eyes watching her with an infectious amount of love; a love that couldn't possibly be ruined or broken.

"You're sweet, really, but the last thing I need is for you to die from the common cold. Imagine surviving Voldemort just so a flu can kill you." They both chuckled at this joke. "Actually, I think a teeny kiss could possible cure the flu I have." Hermione said. Harry chuckled and leant forward, cupping her face before softly placing his lips on her, tongue penetrating her parted lips to explore her mouth. Hermione's heart beat quickened as she felt herself become more and more drawn to the kiss.

After what felt like an eternity they broke apart, foreheads pressed together as they breathed heavily. "I said teeny kiss you idiot." Hermione muttered, despite her face being as scarlet as the scarf around her neck. "I think I might've infected you."

"I'd rather take infection over being apart from you." Hermione's heart swelled, overwhelmed by the love that dripped from his words.

A love that she trusted would love forever.

Wouldn't it?


"You don't mind do you?"

I mean, there was no harm in letting him attend a party, especially if it was one in his honour. That would be terribly callous of her wouldn't it?

A part of her mind, however, opposed this idea. This fraction of her mind was insistent on not letting him attend the celebration lest he does something that would break the fragile trust she already held for him.

They were huddled up together in a spooning position, on Harry's four poster, Harry fiddling with her brown curls. His voice was low and husky, and his breath fanned her exposed neck. Hermione sighed, her long lashes resting against her rosy cheeks as she shut her eyes. "Just... just don't drink too much. You know what it does to you."

They both knew, all too well, the consequences of the excessive intake of that dastardly drink. It was imprinted across her mind so she saw it every time she closed her eyes. His face... inches apart from that Hufflepuff sixth year's, his hands on places they shouldn't have been. To think about what might've happened if she didn't make it there on time made her feel light headed.

Harry chuckled. "I know that it turns me into an idiot, Mione. Fine, I won't drink, you fun killer."

Hermione bit the inside of her cheek so hard that she tasted the familiar tang of metallic. "Do you ever listen Harry? I didn't say you can't drink, I just said that you should monitor your drinking." She chastised. "Can you promise me that?"

She heard him take a sharp breath. "Can't you just come to the party with me? I mean maybe you could monitor me yourself."

"So you're admitting that you, a grown man, cannot monitor your own alcohol intake? That's pathetic Mr Potter." Hermione joked, her laughter short lived as anxiety evicted it from her heart. "But promise me Harry that even if you do get piss drunk nothing will happen."

He took her hand, and intertwined his fingers with hers, before placing a kiss behind her ear. "I promise." He whispered.

She would only come to learn later that some promises couldn't be kept.


Of the hundreds of years worth of parties thrown by the Gryffindor house, this one probably took the cake as the most raucous one. Alcohol and other prohibited substances passed under the stern nose of Professor McGonogall (all it took was a simple silencing charm to keep the celebration hidden from her).

A game of spin-the-bottle was currently taking place within a circle of a couple of eight years and a few seventh years. An empty firewhiskey bottle sat on its side at the centre of the circle, the aim of the game being that it had to be spun until it landed on a person, and the person who spun the bottle had to spend five minutes in a closet with the picked person. Whatever happens in the closet was entirely your choice, even if it was a choice alcohol had made for you.

Almost half of the people in the circle had already either been picked or spun, and now it was Harry's turn. "Here we go!" He slurred as he spun the bottle. The group watched impatiently as it spun fast, slowly decelerating, until it completely stopped spinning. The group burst into shouts and raucous laughter, as Harry stood up, stumbling drunkenly over to the girl the bottle had chose, and taking her hand. He led her into the closet, illuminated by a single candle hanging from the ceiling.

He couldn't resist himself, really he couldn't. The girl's soft, red hair and deep blue eyes called to him, like a siren beckoning a sailor to a watery demise.

Five minutes didn't seem to be enough to feed the lust coursing through his body.

He led her to the boy's common room, lips intertwined and bodies close, articles of clothing being discarded one at a time...

All this, unfolding while Hermione sat at her private nook in the library, anxiety gnawing at her sanity.


Her trust began to wither, like the leaves that the winter had consumed in its frosty storms and torrents of icy precipitation.

The days following after the party, Harry become so aloof. His hugs were half hearted, he didn't kiss her back and his eyes were devoid of the love they once held.

Of course, she voiced her concerns, which only led to an argument between them (well it was more of a one sided argument).

"What's gotten into you, you haven't been you lately." Hermione asked, her voice wobbly with the weight of the tears she had contained with all her might.

"What are you even on about? There's nothing wrong with me!" He replied defensively.

"Oh bullshit! You've been acting so aloof lately and I'd like to know why! Is it something I did, come on, speak to me!" Her tone dropped to one of desperation, because at that point she would climb any mountain in the world to seek the reason for the decline of affection in their relationship. She didn't want to lose him; she was just too intoxicated by his love.

He gave her this look, a look that for some unknown reason made a feeling of desolation rapidly spread through her body.

His echoed in her head, which felt as if it had been hollowed out like a coconut. As a tear slid down her porcelain skin, her heart palpitating persistently against her ribcage, only one single thought danced across her mind.

What did you do that you aren't telling me?


The answer came to Hermione days after their heated row, well, more like she stumbled upon the discovery.

For the past four days Hermione refrained from speaking to Harry, both enraged and heartbroken at how they had drifted apart in such a short space of time.

Four days she spent stewing in a puddle of self loathing and anxiety. Had she said something before? Was it something she did? Did the party he attended perhaps help him realise that he just didn't want to be with her anymore?

Over and over, this questions played on loop in her head, leaving no room for any other thoughts to interject.

Hermione sighed softly as she walked down the hall of the seventh floor, hands tucked into the pocket of her coat. Thankfully, her cold had vanished, and her health was back to being exceptional.

The questions that persisted in her mind had finally led her to make a decision: she would talk to him about it. They were two rational adults after all; she trusted that Harry would tell her if there was anything in their relationship that bothered him.

She was suddenly brought back to Earth by the loud crashing of something falling to the ground, followed by hushed voices and giggles.

Her eyes diverted towards the opened door to an empty classroom, the source of the noise. There was another crash, this time of glass breaking, before thee culprit's giggles rang out again.

Heart thumping madly she stalked quietly towards the door, ready to berate the couple for their clumsiness and destruction.

Quietly she pushed the door opened. The wet kissing sounds penetrated the still silence that suddenly filled the space.

Hermione managed to make out snippets of a conversation between their kisses.

"W-we have to mhm stop what we're doing. W-we'll get caught!" The male said, panting heavily as he attempted to steal back the lost breaths the kiss had deprived him of.

"Shh." A female voice silenced. "Just...mhm...let me finish. I promise you won't regret it!" The sound of a zipper going down was enough to make Hermione aware of how much she was intruding on the couple's escapade.

Maybe I should leave, she thought as she remembered that she too shared such intimate moments with Harry, their voices hushed just as the couple in the classroom, their bodies intertwined.

Maybe if she had just left at that moment then she would've been spared from the impending heartbreak.

Curiosity pushed Hermione forward, and instead of her leaving she pushed the door forward by a few inches just to see who this couple was.

She wished she didn't. Oh Merlin, she wished that she hadn't just gazed upon the terrible sight before her.

"Hermione please open the door!" Harry banged loudly against the door of the cubicle she had locked herself in, his voice an octave higher with desperation. A gut wrenching sob broke past her lips, her arms wrapped around her legs as she sat on the dirty bathroom floor.

"I-I'm sorry! Please come out so we can talk about this please!"

"GO AWAY!" She screamed. "Just go!"

"I'm not leaving until you talk to me about this!"

"FUCK YOU!" She retorted.

"I swear she means nothing to me! Nothing! She was just a fling, I swear, nothing serious!" Although his words were meant to be reassuring, they did nothing but make her heart ache more, to the point that it was a throbbing pain that made her want to rip it out of her chest, and watch it throb pitifully on the floor, until its movements ceased.

She had heard so many tales of betrayal throughout her life, and she had heard about the unimaginable pain it brought, a pain worse than a million crutiatus curses. Never in her life had she imagined that she would be at the receiving end of such pain.

It was well past into supper when she finally allowed herself to leave the cubicle. Thankfully, Harry had surrendered his attempts at pacifying her. Strangely, the absence of his presence evoked more pain instead of relief. She began to take her leave, only for her movements to be halted by Harry, who had suddenly appeared and grabbed a hold of her wrist.

"Let's talk please." He begged.

"I'm not talking to you." Hermione said bluntly, refusing to look at him as she feared he would either bring her to tears or to her knees in repulsion.

"Hermes I love you." He used her pet name , her ultimate weakness. "You don't get the right to call me that anymore." She snapped.

Suddenly he turned her so she faced him, and took her by the shoulders, face level with hers. "I love you Hermes! I s-swear I didn't mean it!" He yelled, subtle anger evident in his voice. The anger in his voice coupled with the fact that he had both hands laid on her flared Hermione's rage up hundredfold, exploding into a giant supernova of ire.

She began beating against Harry's chest with her fists, screaming and sobbing at the top of her lungs. "I TTUSTED YOU! I FUCKING TRUSTED YOU! I-I LOVED YOU! HOW COULD YOU GO AND DO THIS TO ME, ESPECIALLY WITH MY CLOSEST FRIEND!?" Harry managed to restrain her by her wrists, stopping the onslaught of painful punches. The supernova died down, leaving behind a desolate and broken girl. She sobbed into his chest, tears spilling onto his clothing. "S-she was like a sister to m-me... h-how could you..."

"I know, I'm such a fucking idiot. I love you, I love you so damn much." She felt the warmth of his tears seeping into her scalp as he wept.

For the moment she just let him hold her, all repulsion and pain placed at the back of her mind as all she craved now was comfort, even if it came from the Devil himself.


His betrayal was forever ingrained into her mind, his terrible deed never to be forgotten no matter how hard she attempted to.

For the next couple of days this was what kept Hermione from sleep. Sometimes she'd just sit huddled in bed, eyes wide and unblinking. Most times she'd cry herself dry, sob herself hoarse. There was no rest whatsoever.

Never in her lifetime had she thought that a man would bring her to such a position in her life. As a young prepubescent girl she had always imagined that if she was ever cheated on, she would simply flip her hair and move on to the next conquest. Now that she was in that position she realised that it was much more complicated than shrugging it off and moving to the next love interest. Now that she was actually experiencing such pain she found it extremely difficult to slip on a nonchalant guise and retaliate by doing exactly what he did to her.

She envied the strong women who could do exactly that- flip their hair and move on.

Hermione had, by some miracle, managed to evade both Harry and Ginny for the past couple of weeks. Instead of having breakfast in the Great Hall she went to the kitchens where the house elves were more than happy to have her presence. In classes where she sat next to either Ginny or Harry she switched seats, eliciting a look of hurt from Harry and one of anger and hate from Ginny. The same thing that went for breakfast applied to lunch and supper.

Although some of these measures she took seemed rash, Hermione was only doing it to spare herself the pain of seeing their faces that literally evoked sickness from her.

Just when Hermione was sure that she was healing from the pain and was ready to forgive the both of them, a month later heartbreak two came barging into her life, bringing her back to square one.

"Why did you drag me out here at this ungodly hour? What is it that's so important that you need to tell me now?" Hermione said harshly. Harry's eyes darted around in the dark, searching for anyone who might've followed them. When he was sure that they were alone, he relaxed.

"Hermione, do you trust me?" Harry asked. Hermione stared at him, brows furrowed as she tried to formulate an answer in her mind. No... yes... maybe... I don't even know who to trust anymore.

"Just get to the point." She snapped.

"Hermes I love you." Hermione scoffed. "Yeah right." He took her hand in his and gave it a squeeze. Her skin began to crawl with disgust. He continued. "And you know that it was never my intention to break your heart, or to hurt you like that. I was stupid, please forgive me."

Hermione opened her mouth to answer but somehow the answer got trapped in her throat as she made eyes contact with him, ensnared by the depths of his emerald eyes. In them she could see all the moments they shared, moments that could fill up an entire lifetime. She could see their first kiss, under the stars as the uncertainty of whether or not they would make it through that war weighed heavy in her heart. She swallowed, resisting the urge to reach forward and kiss him.

He cupped her cheeks, activating the river of tears that ran down her cheeks.

She abhorred him for what he did.

But she also absolutely adored him.

And she was torn between the two.

"Is this-Is this what you w-wanted to t-tell me?" She choked, wiping her tears with the sleeve of her pyjama bottoms. Harry's gaze suddenly dropped to his feet, his hand leaving her face.

He opened his mouth, struggling to get the words out. "G-Ginny's pregnant."

There was a deafening silence after that, as Hermione watched him with wide glassy eyes and he kept his eyes planted to his feet.

Her legs had somehow developed a mind of their own, and of their own accord, began to carry her out of the trophy room, running as fast as possible through the thick darkness that had enveloped the corridors. Just as she felt that she was far enough from him to stop for a breath. She felt an arm wrap around her mid section, pulling her into familiar muscular body.

"L-Let me go!" She sobbed, fat tears rolling down her cheeks.

"I never meant for this to happen. I never meant for this to happen. I never..." He continuously chanted in her ear, a mantra he hoped would somehow restore her trust and adoration for him. Unfortunately those were two things she would never be able to do again; the darkness that gradually began to contaminate her heart wouldn't have allowed her to either love or trust him again. At that moment his touch felt like brimstone, his mouth so close to her ear made her want to retch.

Her sobs subsided into loud sniffles.

"I love you Hermes." Harry muttered against the crook of her neck.

"I hate you." Hermione didn't hesitate to say. She heard him suck in a breath. "You don't mean that." At that statement, her anger flared, consisting like a volcanic eruption.

Hermione ripped his arms off her, breaking their embrace, and turned to face him, irises an unrecognizable shade of black. She was certain that if she had come with her wand she would've hexed him to oblivion.

"I despise you Harry, you make me sick." She hissed between gritted teeth. "I never want to see you again!"

That night was added to the multiple sleepless nights she had endured every night since the incident. Hermione had cried into her pillow for the entire night, the ache in the space where her heart once resided unbearable.

A little over nine months later, baby James Sirius was born. That day she had barely left the dorm, crying at the coincidence of the day also being their anniversary.


Author's Note

So yeah this is a chapter I put together to give you a glimpse of Hermione past. Will this be the only flashback I do? No, hopefully not. I plan on doing one for Draco, stay tuned for that one!