Chapter Five: After All
It started that way.
Harry and Hermione didn't exactly spend all their time together. In fact, nothing about their respective individual routines really changed. It was just that the time that Harry scheduled to spend alone in the library was now spent with Hermione sitting across from him.
They didn't always talk. They were too academically-minded to waste their time with unnecessary conversation, but they did talk. About schoolwork, mainly, and sometimes they touched on family.
Sometimes.
Harry got the distinct impression that Hermione didn't like talking about her own family, when the only thing she told him was that her parents were dentists from Oxfordshire. The way she spoke about them felt impersonal, but he didn't question her. The same way she didn't ask him about what he felt about his own parental situation.
Harry talked about his friends a lot. So much so that Hermione was starting to formulate new, complete pictures of both Neville and Luna, the same way that she now saw Harry in this new light. She didn't bring up Jack, Ron or the twins at all. Harry's jaw tended to clench whenever his brother was brought up, and she got the distinct feeling that he was actively trying not to ask her something specific. She didn't think that either of them were ready for the answer to the question he wasn't asking.
It would be an understatement to say that things were tense. Hermione just didn't understand how nobody was taking it seriously. It was as if nothing had happened, the way the entire thing was swept under the mattress. As was usually the case, she now learned.
She liked to think that it was about the blood. Jack was a Pureblood and Harry wasn't. But it was something else; something that transcended Jack and Harry's hatred of each other. It even went beyond the parents as well: Lily, Sirius, James, and even Jack's mother. There was something; something that they all knew that was protecting Jack, and that was why there was no use in fighting.
Hermione sighed. She should have been relieved, right? She shouldn't have wanted some action to be taken against Jack. Right?
"It's your birthday."
Hermione stopped writing, lifting her quill up off the page. She'd been hoping to avoid having to have this discussion with Harry, but she had to know he would bring it up at some point.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
She swallowed thickly. "It's just a day, Harry," she explained half-heartedly. "It doesn't mean anything."
He looked thoughtful. "So we're not a fan of our birthday then?"
"We're not, no."
"Okay."
She blinked in surprise. "Okay?"
"If you don't want to celebrate your birthday, then that's up to you," he said. "Though, you should know that I may or may not have scrapped together some kind of present when I found out it was your birthday, and you may or may not be breaking my heart by saying that you don't want it."
She chuckled. "Has anyone ever told you that you're a drama queen?"
"Oh, Luna does; all the time," he said, laughing softly. "I don't know what you're both talking about though. I'm a perfectly normal queen."
She shook her head. "Well, if it makes you feel better, I didn't actually say that I didn't want any presents."
"It's too late now," he said dramatically, clutching at his heart. "You've insulted me, and now you don't get your present."
"You're mean."
"Oh, so first I'm a drama queen and now I'm mean? I see how it is, Granger."
"Now you're just making me tired," she said, shaking her head. "I'm going to get back to work now."
"You do that."
Hermione was still rather amused as she returned her attention to her work. She was only vaguely aware of Harry also returning to his work. After a few minutes, he started to move again, ruffling through his book bag, and then he was sliding a small package across the desk towards her.
"It's not much," he said softly. "Well, it's actually nothing, really, but I think you still might appreciate it."
Hermione looked at him for a moment, before she opened the package. It consisted of several pieces of parchment, each one boasting a seemingly endless list of book titles and their authors.
Harry proceeded to explain. "I know that you were complaining to Madam Pince about the books that the library doesn't have while we were in here on Sunday, and I thought that you might like to know which books Sirius has in his library. So I wrote to him, and he said that, if ever you wanted to borrow anything from that, umm, redacted list; he'd be happy to let you."
She just stared at him for a long moment, her eyes betraying her by tearing up.
Harry's own eyes widened. "Oh my, please don't cry," he said hurriedly. "Don't you like it?"
"No, it's not that," she said just as quickly, suddenly embarrassed by her own reaction as she swiped roughly at her traitorous eyes. "It's just that, well, nobody's ever done something as thoughtful as this for me before."
Harry frowned. "That can't be true."
She dropped her gaze. "It is," she whispered.
He couldn't quite believe it, but she seemed so sure. "Well, you're welcome then."
She laughed. "Thank you, Harry."
"Anytime, Granger."
Hermione didn't trust herself to say anything more, so she put the parchment away and returned to her work. She was safe with her books. They'd never failed her before. But then, she couldn't mistake the feeling of being safe with Harry. It was odd for her. She'd never truly felt this kind of unbridled acceptance. Sure there was Jack, and there was Ron, but things didn't always feel easy with them. And she wasn't even going to get started on Ginny.
"It's my birthday," she suddenly said, and his head snapped up. "It's my birthday today," she repeated. "My parents have forgotten my birthday for the past seven years, Harry. That's why it's just a day to me."
He knew there were many ways this conversation could go, and he didn't want to push her to answer any questions she wasn't comfortable with. "Well, it's not going to be just a day anymore, okay?"
"Okay."
He smiled at her. "I'm telling you now, Granger; we're going to have a massive party for you next year."
Hermione was feeling a little too overwhelmed to respond, so she said nothing. She'd meant it when she told Luna that she thought he was sensational. He was so kind. How was it even possible, when he'd been dealt so many cards that she now knew about?
As a result of her strange emotions, Hermione left the library earlier than usual, particularly for a Tuesday. She wasn't exaggerating when she'd told him about her parents. They were just so busy with their work and their own lives that it was easy for them to forget that they had a daughter, or even that said daughter aged.
Sometimes Hermione hated that she was away from home for so many months of the year, but then she was convinced that it would be a lot worse if she were actually at home. Their neglect would only be amplified and, as a result, she was practically raising herself.
As yet, she was convinced that she was doing an okay job.
When she excused herself, Harry didn't try to force her to stay. All he did was ask if she was sure. And then he asked if she was okay, his eyes so innocent and kind, that it was the first time that she considered revealing all her secrets to him.
Slowly, Hermione was learning more and more about who he was behind what the rest of the Wizarding World thought of him. Or didn't. She'd gone through four years without really paying any attention him - being friends with Jack and Ron was a full-time job - and now everything was different. She'd like to come across as entirely blameless, but she knew about Jack's disdain towards Harry. It was unfounded, of course, but she'd never known the extents to which Jack went though.
Jack kept most things a secret from her, because he knew she wouldn't approve. It was worse now that she was an upstanding prefect. She knew he was channelling whatever irrational hatred James had for Harry, and Hermione tried to see through his hateful exterior. Because, truly, Harry and Malfoy were the only two people that he clashed with on a regular basis.
She couldn't explain to anyone what she saw in Jack. There was something there, under all his hatred and his anger; and sometimes Hermione thought that she was the only one who could see it. Somebody had to.
Jack did eventually apologise to Hermione for going overboard - his intention was never to actually hurt Harry; just embarrass him - and only Hermione. She called him an idiot. The apology itself was slightly sincere and definitely misplaced, which she was unafraid to tell him. It was met with silence. She tentatively accepted the apology because, as mad as she still was, she did miss her boys.
Even though she made up with Jack and Ron; she still wasn't really talking to Ginny. Somehow, she just couldn't get over Ginny's role in the entire thing, because Hermione held her at a higher standard than she did the boys.
And, really, it would break Harry's heart if he ever found out.
Just because Hermione wasn't talking to Ginny didn't mean that Ginny didn't try to talk to her though. Maybe it was guilt, or something else entirely. It didn't take long for Hermione to figure out what it was though. Apparently the older witch couldn't be saved from a confrontation even on her sixteenth birthday.
"Are you really going to choose Harry over Jack?" Ginny asked, her tone more severe than she intended when she managed to catch Hermione in the staircase between the fourth and fifth year dormitories.
Hermione sighed. "Is that what you think this is?"
"What else could it be?"
"You clearly don't get it," she said seriously. "There are no sides."
"Yes there are, Hermione. I know it. Jack knows it. Why are you pretending as if you don't as well?" She shook her head. "He's not one of us."
Hermione nodded. "You're right, Gin; he really isn't one of us," she said. "And he's better because of it." She pushed past her then, and disappeared down the stairs before Ginny could say another word.
Hermione could, perhaps, understand where her friends were coming from but she didn't have to like it. They were supposed to be better. She needed them to be better. If anything, she needed them to be more like Harry. More accepting. More open and caring.
They needed to be more like the person she was striving to be; the person she was now allowing herself to be.
The entire situation sat on the back of her mind as the rest of the week crawled by. She knew she was being unusually quiet, which was saying a lot because she didn't really talk all that much when it wasn't related to their school work. Her friends noticed, but Harry was the only one brave enough to ask her about it.
"Hey you," Harry said, breaking her out of her thoughts as they sat at his table in the library that Friday after what was a tiring week for both of them. "Penny for your thoughts?"
She sighed, turning her body to face him and abandoning her attempt at her Arithmancy homework. "I had a fight with Ginny."
"Another one?" he asked, giving her his full attention as well. She looked wholly less overwhelmed by it than he felt. It was something that he was starting to notice. There was something incredibly disarming about being the centre of Hermione Granger's attention.
"She claims to think that, by hanging out with you as much as I do - which isn't even all that much, really - it means that I'm essentially picking you over Jack, and that's not okay with her."
Harry spent a moment thinking about it, and he could tell from the way she bit her bottom lip that the accusation really bothered her. "We don't have to hang out as much if it's causing problems for you," he offered, even though the words burned in his throat to say.
She smiled kindly, fighting the temptation to reach across the table and touch one of his hands. "You're a little ridiculous, you know that?"
He blinked. "Umm?"
"Tell me, what do Neville and Luna think about our new, umm, friendship?"
Harry didn't have to think about it all that much. "Our, umm, friendship doesn't interfere with my friendship with them," he said. "I do think that they might be worried about your intentions with me," he said, grinning mischievously. "But that has nothing to do with you. It's just that they don't really know you, and they're probably worried that you're going to corrupt me because you're friends with Jack."
She laughed lightly, before she fell silent, suddenly looking pensive. "I think maybe the four of us should spend some time together," she said slowly. "Do you think that they'd be okay with that?"
Harry's eyes lost focus for a moment, before he nodded his head once. "I'll ask them," he finally said.
With that said, Hermione returned to her school work, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. She got the feeling that he was very protective of his friends and the fact that he was letting her in even a little bit, made her shockingly, embarrassingly happy.
"I figured it out!"
Luna's declaration startled Harry, and his quill slipped, drawing a line of ink across his page. He just glared at her, as he retrieved his wand to clean up the mess with a simple spell.
It was Neville who asked the all-important question. "What did you figure out, Luna?"
Even though Neville asked the question, she directed her answer at Harry. "Time-delayed Transfiguration," she said, leaning forward slightly. "You were right when you said that we'd probably have to modify the Tempus spell, and I think that I've figured out how to do it."
Harry couldn't stop his grin, and he probably would have let out an excited whoop but the library was surprisingly full of non-Gryffindors for a Saturday afternoon. "Which means that we're a go?"
"We're definitely a go, Harry Potter."
Neville perked up at the sound of that. "Tomorrow night?" he asked.
Harry did a quick, mental check of the patrol schedule that he'd managed to put together based on the now three weeks that they'd been at school. "Tuesday night," he said. "Slytherin and Hufflepuff are on patrol. Neville, will you be all right to get away?"
The blond Badger smiled widely. "They won't even notice," he said simply. "I'm actually looking forward to it."
Harry and Luna exchanged a look. "We've created a monster," they said simultaneously, and all three of them burst out laughing.
It took a sharp look from Madam Pince to get them to quieten down, but Harry couldn't mistake his own excitement. On Tuesday night, they would begin their assault on the Gryffindors, namely Jack, Ron and the twins. They wouldn't hold back, and Harry didn't even care if Jack knew it was him.
In fact, he wanted Jack to know it was him. Jack needed to know that he wasn't untouchable, that Harry was capable of exacting his revenge without having to shout it from the rooftops.
The trio discussed their plans a bit more, before they settled down and got back to work once more. They asked questions of each other, with Neville the Herbology genius, Luna a Charms expert and Harry the got-go-guy for Transfiguration. They helped one another this way.
They had to. Nobody else did. Not really.
They went to dinner rather late, and the Great Hall was practically empty save for a few Ravenclaws and one or two Hufflepuffs. Because of it, they ended up sitting at the Gryffindor table, which was completely empty.
It was the most blissful dinner the three of them had ever had. Harry even indulged himself with an extra slice of treacle tart.
As was part of their routine, the boys dropped Luna off first once they were done with dinner. She hugged them both, squeezing tighter than normal, and then disappeared into the Ravenclaw Common Room. Harry made a mental note to ask after whatever it was she'd wanted to talk about before the, well, before. He suspected that she would have brought it up if it was that important, so clearly it could wait.
The boys made idle chit-chat as they next headed to Hufflepuff. Harry sensed that there was something his friend wanted to ask him, but he just wasn't ready to ask it yet. Harry was already a patient boy, and he would be especially patient with Neville now. He could only guess what Neville wanted to ask him, and he doubted that either boy was truly ready for it.
By the time Harry made it to Gryffindor Tower, it was quite late. So it was quite a surprise when he found the Common Room buzzing with activity. There were an obscene amount of people present and, against his better judgment; he was curious as to the reason why. As he moved through the crowd, he asked the closest person he could find: their female sixth-year prefect. Emily was always nice to him.
"What's going on?" he asked.
"Jack, Ron and the twins are throwing a party," she replied without even checking to see who'd asked the question.
Harry frowned. "A party? For what?"
This time, Emily did turn to look at the speaker, and her face fell. "Uhm?"
Harry looked at her curiously, fighting off the sudden panic that he felt. "Emily?" he queried.
"There he is!"
Harry's head snapped to the left, where he spied Jack standing on top of a table, a bottle of butterbeer held in his hand and an overly cheerful smile on his face.
"We've been waiting," he said, raising his glass. "Everybody! To Gryffindor's newest Keeper," he said, grinning madly, his eyes were practically glowing with obvious mirth.
The entire thing made Harry feel uneasy. He quickly looked around. Why was everyone looking at him like that? What was going on? Where was Hermione?
"To my little brother," Jack said, toasting Harry with that same feral look on his face. "Well, Harry, you wanted my life so badly; here it is."
There was something to be heard in that sentence, but Harry didn't know what. Automatically, his heart rate picked up and every possibly scenario started running through his mind. What had Jack done?
Harry didn't have to wait all that long. Somehow, he managed to make his way through the crowd towards the staircase leading up to the boys' dormitories. He ignored the insults and ribbing, calling him ungrateful for leaving a party that was supposedly being held in his honour.
It was when he got to his room that he realised what Jack meant. The Dark Lord is coming for you. It was written on his trunk, on his bedsheets, the wall behind his bed, and many other of his possessions. But what really made him burn with rage was that it was written on the glass of the framed picture of his mother that he kept on his night table next to his bed.
They'd even drawn a Death Eater's mask over Lily's face.
For a moment, Harry wasn't sure what to do. His eyes stung, but that was quickly squashed down. What did he expect, really? One week without Jack's taunting was bound to lead up to something. And, since they couldn't get into his trunk, they decided to deface it instead.
He stood stock-still, his head spinning. Tuesday couldn't get here fast enough.
Eventually, letting out a heavy sigh, Harry retrieved his wand and started to cast Scourgify at the various items. He was just getting to the picture frame, when there was a knock on the door, and Hermione was entering the room. She took one look around, clucked her tongue, and then moved to sit down beside where Harry was sitting on his bed.
"I can't believe him," she said, hissing in anger. "I thought - he was - " she stopped and sighed. "Are you all right?"
Harry didn't even look at her. "They threw a party."
"I saw," she said tiredly. "He even had the guile to tell me that it was supposed to be my birthday party."
Harry dropped his head.
Hermione put a hand on his shoulder, actually touching him for the first time. He stiffened at the contact, clearly surprised, but then he relaxed, allowing her to comfort him. She took the frame from him with her free hand and set it down on her right side, facedown. She knew that Harry could handle things when they were directed at him, but it was something else entirely when Lily Evans was dragged into it. All the poor witch had done was fall in love with the wrong Pureblood.
"I'll talk to him," Hermione said through gritted teeth.
"No," Harry said, turning his head to look at her for the first time. "I won't have you put yourself in the middle, okay? This is between Jack and me, as it's always been. As it always will be."
"I don't like it."
"I never expected you to," he said, offering her a small smile. She was positively adorable when she got all protective of him. How had he never noticed before? "Are you enjoying the party?" he asked, changing the subject and sounding mightily amused about it.
"Oh, definitely," she said sarcastically. "It's what I've always wanted."
Harry heard something in her voice; something serious. Her attempted joke wasn't completely untrue. "Granger?" he asked quietly.
"I don't know if you'd believe this, Harry, but I didn't really have many friends growing up," she explained, and she was surprised when he didn't make any comment. "I was too much of a bookworm, too bossy, or something or the other."
"Is that another reason why you don't like celebrating your birthday?" he asked; "because you didn't have friends to celebrate with?"
"Partly," she confessed. In the end, it really did come down to her parents, but she wasn't going to tell Harry that. Not yet, at least. It wasn't that she didn't trust him - in fact, she rather thought that she was beginning to trust him above everyone else, including Jack and Ron - it was that she wasn't ready to talk about it. When it came to her secrets; she doubted that Harry would ever reveal them in a fit of anger.
"Well, I can't really speak for those horrible little kids that you knew, but I like to think that I would have been your friend," he said kindly.
Hermione clamped down on her emotions. What was this boy doing to her? "And why do you say that?"
"My mum would have made me," he said, winking at her.
Despite herself, Hermione laughed and dropped her hand from his shoulder to rest in her lap. She was only vaguely aware of the fact that his eyes followed the movement, a small sigh escaping his lips. The entire thing made a content smile settle on her face.
Hermione's mind automatically thought back to Luna's question.
Did she like him?
She didn't actually know. Did she? It would be easy to allow herself to, but the aftermath of such a revelation would be terribly difficult to deal with in this House; in this Castle; in this World.
"Did you talk to Neville and Luna about, umm, what we discussed?" Hermione eventually asked.
"Oh," he sounded. "Umm, I was going to, but something else came up."
That piqued her interest. "What came up?"
"Our, uh, our retaliation, I guess," he answered truthfully. "We have so much planned. And, as you can see; it's definitely needed."
Hermione bit her bottom lip in thought.
Harry read her facial expression for what it was. "Okay... what's wrong?"
She took a moment to figure out how to phrase her question. "Isn't that kind of stooping to his level?" she asked evenly.
Harry tried to look at it from her point of view, but it was proving to be very difficult. "I'm not intending to try to kill him, if that's what you're worried about," he said coldly, and she flinched. "So I reckon we're at two different levels. Which says a lot, given that I'm the one who saved our damn lives in that bloody graveyard."
If Hermione was surprised by the severity in his tone, she didn't show it. Instead, she sighed. "Okay."
He raised his eyebrows. "Okay?"
"This is not my condoning what you have planned," she clarified. "In fact, I disagree with it, but I can tell that nothing I say will make you change your mind. So, I suppose, all I can say is, you know, be careful, and try not to get caught. Because, well - "
"I don't have the same status as Jack."
Hermione pressed her lips together. "I wouldn't exactly say it like that but, essentially, yes."
Harry felt a flash of anger, and he turned his body to face her, his knee touching her thigh. "Then how exactly would you say it, Granger? Because, really, I'm dying to know."
Hermione met his gaze, unafraid of the emotion in his voice. There was anger, yes, but there was something else as well. Hurt, maybe, and something like resignation. The Wizarding World already saw him as less than Jack, and so that was how he saw himself as well.
She took a deep breath. "What I would say is that your father is horrible," she said calmly. "He's also an idiot, Harry, because he has to be to miss out on knowing you. I don't want you to think that you're anything less than anyone, do you hear me? Because you're not.
"I care about Jack; he's my best friend; so I won't say anything bad about him even if, right now, it's all there would be to say. But I will say this, Harry: you are so much more than you think you are. Please believe it. This World knows nothing."
Harry swallowed, temporarily muted.
"They think they do," she continued. "Fourteen years on from the end of the Second Wizarding World and nothing has changed in all that time. Honestly, and please don't take this the wrong way; but I think that the only reason that Voldemort hasn't taken over the Ministry yet is because of your father and Amelia Bones; and possibly Lord Black as well. Their presence in the Ministry is too much, which makes Fudge's slander moot."
"Voldemort would run right over Cornelius Fudge."
"Especially since he's refusing to accept that good ol' Voldy is back."
Despite himself, Harry smiled. "Why do you know so much?" he asked.
"I spend a lot of time at the Burrow," she explained, assuming that he knew that she was referring to the Weasley family's home. "Ginny's room is practically mine at this point."
Harry made a mental note of that bit of information. It was another revelation of sorts about the relationship she did or didn't have with her parents. Didn't she spend the holidays with them?
"Are you scared about what's going to happen when it comes to Voldemort?" Harry asked her. "As a Muggleborn, I mean."
"Does is matter?" she asked seriously. "My fear could just result in my dying twice, don't you think?"
Harry tried desperately not to think about a dead Hermione. Why would she even bring up such a thing? And so easily?
She seemed to sense his unease. "Sorry," she said quietly. "I'm just very comfortable with my own mortality."
"Why?"
She looked away from him, suddenly worried that she'd said too much.
"Tell me," he said quietly, demanding of her in the only way that he could.
"Have you ever wondered if, you know, you were to disappear, would anyone miss you?"
Harry didn't have to be told twice that this was a very important conversation for them, and he'd better pay attention. She looked more vulnerable than he'd ever seen her. "I haven't, no," he confessed slowly.
"Your mum?" she asked.
He nodded. "And Sirius, I suppose."
"Luna and Neville?"
"Probably, but definitely not as much."
"Because friends aren't family." It wasn't a question; she was rather stating a fact. "But friends are all I've got right now, Harry. My parents don't miss me; that much is true, so all I have is my friends. I have Jack, and Ginny, and Ron, a - "
"And me."
She wiped at a tear that he hadn't even noticed. "And you."
Harry hesitated, before he reached for her closest hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. He'd always wondered why she remained friends with Jack and Ron, and now he was starting to see a possible reason as to why. A girl who grew up without friends didn't let go of them when she finally found them, no matter what.
"I would miss you," he whispered. "So, you know, I expect you to be there when I'm like a hundred and forty years old."
She laughed lightly, a small sob escaping from her lips. "I'll do my very best, Potter."
"I'm going to hold you to that, Granger."
Hermione's gaze drifted down to their hands, and she felt herself blush. He was holding her hand.
Thinking that he might have overstepped, Harry took his hand back and cleared his throat. "Want to help me tidy the rest of this stuff up?"
Hermione just nodded, as she picked up the picture frame that was still on her right. "I'll start with this."
Whether consciously or not, Harry postponed the prank attack against Jack and his friends. If he really analysed his decision, it would all probably boil down to a certain brunette witch, but he wasn't to admit that to his two blond friends.
Though they probably suspected it.
It seemed to Harry that they were both withholding important questions, and he was growing impatient with their exchanged looks and awkward pauses. He was tempted to just tell them to out with it already, but he decided to wait it out. They would have waited for him.
Despite the postponement of their prank attack; the trio still snuck out after curfew to set things up on said Tuesday night, so to say. There were things that Harry would have to do in Gryffindor Tower, and he truly was a stealthy wizard. The entire operation was all keyed up to a single activation that would come from Harry's wand.
Eventually.
"One more thing," Harry told them. "He has to do one more thing."
"He tried to kill you," Neville pointed out. "And he wasn't even sorry. What reason could you possibly give for just letting it go?"
"I'm not letting it go," Harry said automatically.
"That's rubbish and you know it."
Harry stared at Neville. "What exactly is the problem, Neville?"
"The problem, Harry, is that you aren't the one who's best friend was in the Infirmary because his brother can't handle the fact that you exist! Why should any of us have to put up with that?"
"Does it make us any better than him?"
"I don't care!" he snapped.
"Well, I do," he said seriously. "He thinks that I want to be him, but I don't."
"And you think that doing this will make you more like him?" It was Luna who asked the question, and Harry turned to look at her. She knew about his concerns about being inadequate; being invisible for the rest of his life. His greatest fear was turning into James, and turning into Jack was a step in that direction.
Harry didn't respond.
"Or is this really about Hermione?"
Harry's breath caught.
"Because, if it is, you should just tell us right now," she said. "It's not as if we'd hold it against you."
Harry looked between the two of them, seeing something new in their facial expressions. "What exactly are you asking me?" he asked of them.
Neville and Luna exchanged a look that Harry didn't miss.
"What?" he asked. "What? Ask your questions."
Neville cleared his throat. "Do you like her?" he asked.
No response.
He continued anyway. "Is she the way that you're planning on ruining Jack?" he asked, at the same time that Luna asked: "Aren't you worried that Jack sent her to get to you from within?"
Harry was too shocked to respond. He just stared at them, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. He half expected them to tell him that they were kidding. But they weren't. He could tell.
"Harry?" Neville prompted.
"I was hoping you were joking," Harry said calmly. "Is that what you really think of her? Bloody hell, is that what you think of me?"
Neither of them replied.
"That's it," he said, shaking his head. "We're all going to sit down and hang out," he declared. "I can't have you thinking of her that way. Or of me, for that matter."
Luna looked like she wanted to say something, but Harry's sudden glare stopped her.
"As for the question, do I like her... yes I do. Do I like her like that? No, I don't think so," he said. "But would it be so terrible if I did?" He blinked. "That's a rhetorical question, by the way. I already know the answer."
Neville and Luna exchanged another look, though Harry missed that one.
"So tomorrow, or later today," Harry said, realising that it was well after midnight. "In the library, you're going to meet her properly, and you'll get to know her, and then you'll see what I see." That was all he would say. The conversation was over.
Harry bid them goodnight, somewhat curtly, and then he left the Astronomy Tower. He cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself and then headed back to Gryffindor Tower, trying to stop his mind from spinning. He couldn't really explain what he was feeling.
About Hermione, about Jack and about his own friends.
It was eerie for him as he stepped through the portrait hole and, once he was safely inside; he dropped his Charm.
"You're back."
Harry practically jumped out of his skin, his hand flying to his chest where his heart was beating a mile a minute. What the hell?
Hermione stood up from her position on the couch, and moved towards him, her expression a mixture of concern and slight amusement at his reaction.
"Granger, what are you doing down here?" he asked, sounding more annoyed than he anticipated. He was irritated with his friends, and he was irritated with the girl in front of him. He knew he was being somewhat irrational, but he didn't like the fact that she was making him second guess all his actions. Whatever he was feeling; he really didn't like it.
"I couldn't sleep," she said softly.
He raised an eyebrow. "Tell me the truth," he said, sounding calm. "Were you waiting for me?"
Hermione blushed. "Maybe."
"Were you worried about me?" he asked.
"Maybe."
Harry felt himself relax. And then he tensed up, his mind automatically thinking that maybe she was here, ready to get him into trouble. He stepped back slightly, his eyes glancing about the room, expecting other prefects to pop out of somewhere. He would get in trouble because he wasn't important enough to escape it.
"It's just me," Hermione said, sensing his anxiety. "As your friend; not as a prefect."
Harry smiled slightly, stepping forward again. He actually walked right past her and sat down on the couch she'd just vacated. He leaned back and sighed.
Hermione joined him a moment later, sitting close enough not to be uncomfortable. "Something happened?"
He turned his head to look at her. "You're in my head, Granger."
She looked startled. "What?"
"You're in my head," he repeated. "And it's proving to be a problem. I don't know what to do about it."
She wasn't sure what to say.
He looked at her. "Do you even know what you're doing to me? Do you?"
She bit her bottom lip, slightly confused. "Uh..."
"You're going to meet my friends later today," he said suddenly, switching topics. "Properly."
"Umm... okay."
He gently nudged her with his shoulder. "If that's okay with you."
She let out a small laugh. "It's okay with me."
"I can't say if you'll be well-received," he elaborated.
"Because of Jack?"
Harry didn't immediately say yes. For some reason, he didn't think that his friends weren't on board with his friendship with Hermione Granger because of Jack. It was something else. Were they worried he would leave them behind? Were they worried that Hermione would take him away from them?
"Something happened," Hermione stated, when he didn't respond.
Harry gently pat her knee. "Something happened."
"But you're okay?"
He looked at her, his features softening when his gaze met hers. "You really care about me, don't you?"
Her eyes widened slightly. "Is that so surprising?" There she went again, answering his questions with questions of her own.
"No."
She smiled at him.
His hand moved to her knee once more, and it stayed there. "Well, just in case you were wondering; I really care about you too."
She sniffed. "I wasn't wondering."
"Sure you weren't."
She laughed. "You think you know me so well, don't you?"
"No," he said seriously, and her face fell. "But I intend to, Granger. I definitely intend to know everything there is to know about you."
On any other day, Hermione might have been terrified by that, but she wasn't. Not today. If anyone was going to know the real Hermione Jean Granger; she would allow for that person to be Harry Potter.
That evening, Harry, Luna, Neville and Hermione all sat down together to hang out in the library after they'd all completed their immediate homework. Their books were still open in front of them, clearly being used as a means to ease the awkwardness.
Harry wouldn't admit it out loud but he found the fact that they were all so stiff and uncomfortable quite amusing. They wouldn't even look at one another but Neville kept glancing his way, quietly asking him the question.
Why was she here?
Luna seemed a little nervous - which was something completely new to Harry - and Hermione could tell.
"Should I do something?" Hermione whispered to Harry. She was close enough to him that only he could hear, because she'd moved to sit beside him so Luna and Neville could have the other side of the table. "I should do something."
"Like what?" he whispered back.
She nudged him slightly with her elbow, making him smile. "Maybe this."
Harry leaned back slightly, just waiting for her to surprise him. He wasn't disappointed.
"Umm, Neville?" Hermione sounded.
Neville looked up, suddenly expecting the worst.
"I know you're busy with Potions there, but do you think you could answer a question for me about Herbology?"
Neville blinked back his surprise. "Umm, sure."
Hermione shifted in her seat, and proceeded to ask a question that sparked discussion among all three of them, while Harry just looked on in fascination as his two best friends and his new friend interacted.
Hermione was his friend. It was sometimes an overwhelming thought. She was his friend because she wanted to be; not because she had no other choice. Really, he didn't know what it was but he just couldn't remember what life was like without her around. He sometimes didn't even care about before; about the fact that she'd never been his friend before. It didn't matter. He didn't want it to.
Hermione suddenly laughed, and Neville was blushing while Luna rolled her eyes.
Harry could only watch on, desperate to hold onto that warm feeling that was blossoming within him. Maybe this would be a good year after all.