Chapter Seven: Dirty Little Secrets

"I think I'm going to quit."

Hermione didn't know what to tell him at first. She half-expected this reaction from him, given the way the evening went. She'd have to be an idiot not to understand why he was feeling this way. She doubted she would feel any different if she were in his position.

"It's the only thing I can do now," Harry continued, as he paced in front of where she was sitting on a large rock by the Black Lake. "I mean, did you see me?"

"I was there," she said softly.

"I was awful! I was bloody terrible, Granger. I'm even disgusted with myself." He stared at his hands as if they'd insulted him somehow. "I have never ever played that horribly in my entire life. I'm just a bloody joke."

Hermione just watched him as he let it all out. Clearly, he needed this.

"I mean, imagine if that was actually a competitive match," he said hoarsely. "I would have lost the entire thing for us. They're all right about me. I just proved it to them. I was never supposed to be on that team. I was never supposed to even play Quidditch. I put my mother through all of this for nothing!"

"It's never been for nothing," she whispered, risking speaking.

"Did you see their faces?" he asked, not having heard her. "Jack and James. They were mightily smug about it, weren't they? They expected me to fail and, look, I did! I'm a fucking failure!" He scrubbed his face roughly. "I'm going to quit. I have to." He dropped down to his knees on the hard ground, and Hermione was up and moving towards him the next moment.

"Hey," she said, dropping to her own knees beside him. She put a hand on his shoulder, prompting him to look at her. "It's just one match, Harry," she said soothingly. "So you played badly. Nobody cares."

"I care."

"Then you're the only one," she pointed out. "It was a warmup game, just to get your feet wet. The fact that you or anybody expected fireworks from you is ridiculous. It will get better, I promise. Just stick with it. Don't let it all be for nothing."

He blinked. "But… but why does it have to be so hard?" he asked softly, his voice thick with emotion.

She couldn't stop herself from hugging him, just managing to enclose him in her arms because of their awkward angle. "I don't know, Harry," she said softly, absently running her one hand up and down his back. "But if it were easy, would it be worth it?"

Harry moved his arms until they were around her waist, and he pulled her into what he had to consider their first proper hug. They'd been only absent touches and sporadic hand patting for comfort, but never hugging, and he just knew that he liked it.

Really, if he had it his way, he probably would never let go.

"Thank you for letting me vent about this," he whispered in her ear, his warm breath ticklish against her skin. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Oh," she admonished playfully, removing herself from his embrace and using his shoulder to help herself stand up. "You'd be fine."

Harry also stood up. "No, Granger, I mean it," he said seriously, his gaze meeting hers.

She stepped forward and hugged him again, her arms closing around his shoulders and holding him close enough to feel the erratic beating of his heart. She guessed that she hugged him because she didn't want to have to deal with the intensity of his eyes or the sincerity in his voice.

When they pulled apart, Harry just about managed to smile at her. "So you don't want me to quit?"

"Please don't," she said. "We can't have gone through all of this just for you to give up now."

"Just say that you want us to win the House Cup, Granger," he teased; "Say it. I won't judge you."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

Harry wasn't the only one who noticed that she didn't once deny it.

Jack didn't waste any opportunity to remind Harry about his failure of a performance in their warmup game against Hufflepuff, but the younger Gryffindor was doing all he could to ignore it. It helped that Jack hadn't managed to catch the Snitch so, whenever he was getting particularly snarky; Harry would bring it up, and the boy would shut up.

Also, Harry was able to ignore it all because he now hugged Hermione. He couldn't quite get over how it felt to be able to hold her, or to be held by her. Because, as soon as they overcame that physical barrier, Hermione became an entirely different person towards him.

He reasoned that she was already a rather touchy and a little clingy - in a good way - and she'd been holding out on him because they weren't yet close enough.

But now.

He didn't think that they went a full day when she didn't touch a forearm, ruffle his hair or any of those other touches that would have made him purr if he were a cat. She even linked her arm with his when they walked sometimes, and Harry couldn't mistake the warm feeling that always seemed to spread through his chest.

He was feeling a lot of things that didn't make sense to him.

And it just didn't occur to him that Hermione could have been feeling the same things as well.

"Can I ask you a serious question?"

Harry tensed automatically. She looked just about as nervous as he felt by the sound of that question. Oh God, what did she want to know? "What's up?" he asked, sounding much calmer than he felt.

She cleared her throat. "Why do you like Ginny?"

Harry was surprised by the question, and it definitely showed on his face. "Uh..."

"I've always been curious," she elaborated. "I mean, she's my best friend, even though we're not exactly seeing eye to eye right now, and I love her, so I'm just curious if what you see is what I see."

Harry blinked. He did not want to be having this conversation right now. Or at all, for that matter. "Have you ever wanted something that you knew you couldn't have?" he asked, instead of actually responding. "I think it was something like that. Or, at least, a big part of it."

He was, admittedly, a little ashamed of himself, but he was going to tell her the truth. "And she's pretty," he added, which just made him sound even more shallow. "And she likes Quidditch." As if that were better.

He took a breath. "Uh, she's also rather feisty, and I think it's great whenever she's brutally honest, especially with Jack." He went quiet. "I never really entertained the idea that we would ever realistically end up together," he added nervously, running a hand through his hair and bringing it to rest on the back of his neck. "It was just a thought. A bit of a childish dream, really. She's far into the folklore of the Boy-Who-Lived, isn't she?"

Even if it were actually a question; Hermione wouldn't have responded.

Harry met her gaze. "What about you and Jack?"

Her eyes widened. "What about me and Jack?"

"I sometimes see you looking at him," he said, fighting the slight twist of pain he felt in his chest as he said the words.

"I wasn't looking at Jack," she eventually said, choosing to be truthful with him as well.

He blinked. "Ron?"

Despite herself, she blushed. "Are you surprised?"

He was, though he didn't say so. "I just always thought..." he trailed off. "Do you still like him?"

"Do you still like Ginny?"

Nope. He was not going to answer that question. "So you've never liked Jack then?"

Hermione leaned forward. "I think I might have, once upon a time," she said quietly, looking oddly conflicted about something.

She still wasn't sure how to feel about the news that the troll incident hadn't happened as she'd been told.

"He's rather fanciable when he's not being - "

"Jack Potter."

She giggled for a moment, before she turned deathly serious. "A girl like me doesn't get the hero, Harry."

There was so much he wanted to say in rebuttal to those words, but he didn't think that she needed a lecture about how amazing he thought she was. Instead, he raised an eyebrow and said: "So then you should go for the much better looking brother instead, shouldn't you?"

Hermione's breath caught in her throat. He sounded so serious, but there was obvious humour in his features. "What makes you think you're better looking?" she asked.

"I'm insulted that you even have to ask that question," he said playfully. "Have you looked at me?"

She laughed out loud, feeling her body relax after the slightly uncomfortable topic about potential love interests. "I have," she said.

"And?"

"And what?"

"Am I handsome or what?"

"Is that what your mother tells you?"

He grinned at her. "Every day."

"She's your mum; she has no choice."

He clutched at his chest dramatically. "Ouch, Granger; you wound me."

"I'm merely telling the truth, Potter," she said. "Would you want me to lie to you?"

"No," he said seriously. "Tell me no lies, Granger, and I'll do the same."

She swallowed thickly, her gaze barely able to meet his. It amazed her how quickly he could move from one extreme to the other. In the blink of an eye, he went from playful to severe, and her heart even skipped a beat at his tone of voice.

"Okay, Harry," she said simply.

He studied her for a moment, before his face broke out into a disarming smile. "You and Ron... Definitely didn't see that coming."

Hermione did the mature thing and stuck her tongue out at him. "I don't feel that way anymore," she admitted, answering the question she hadn't responded to earlier.

He blinked. "You don't?"

"Didn't someone say that I should be going for the better looking brother instead?" she asked, trying to sound amused, even though her heart was thumping wildly in her chest.

His grin was back in full force. "Sounds like a smart guy."

She rolled her eyes. "He definitely likes to think so."

Harry was a basket of nerves before his first competitive game as a Gryffindor Lion. He actually felt quite sick. His stomach was churning dangerously, and he was rather terrified that he would fail. Maybe he'd get hit by a Bludger in the first minute, and get knocked out and not remember a thing.

Harry cast a nervous glance the twins' way. They weren't paying any attention to him, which was a good thing. As much as they probably hated him - especially after the way Angelina and Alicia Spinnet turned them down - everyone on the team wanted to beat Slytherin.

That much, at least, they could all agree on.

Angelina moved through her team, checking all their robes and their brooms. She passed on last-minute instructions and advice, and actually smiled when she reached Harry. "I see you've got a new broom."

Harry nodded, looking down at the broom that Sirius sent for him the day before. He'd gone out on it after curfew the night before, just to familiarise himself with the handling before the game. "Hopefully I can keep your Seeker away from this one," he muttered.

"You better play better than you did in our warmup game," she said, eyeing him critically.

"Yes, ma'am."

She laughed. "It will probably be overwhelming, but I suggest you enjoy it. You'll play worse if you take it all too seriously, all right?"

He nodded, suddenly not trusting himself to speak.

Angelina just pat him on the shoulder, and then continued on her way, leaving him to his thoughts. It had been a bit of a whirlwind of a morning, and he couldn't help his nervousness.

He knew that his mother was coming to watch him. She'd initially been reluctant, given her memories of James Potter, but Sirius was coming with her. Harry would always be more important than her memories of James, and Lily needed her son to know that.

"Hey you," Hermione said, getting his attention.

Harry startled at the sound of her voice, and then turned his gaze on the one person he suddenly knew he needed to see. "Hey," he breathed; "what are you doing in here?"

Hermione decided to ignore his question. Was she really going to tell him that she'd snuck in to wish him and Jack good luck, and probably warn them not to kill each other?

No, no she wasn't.

"How are you feeling?" she asked instead.

Harry stepped out of line to talk to her. "I'm a little nervous," he admitted in a whisper. "What if I play terribly again?"

"Then you'll play terribly," she said coyly. "But you'll have to play to find out, won't you?"

Harry just looked at her, trying to use her presence to calm his racing heart. Naturally, it wasn't working. These days, her presence only managed to make him more nervous. Something was changing, and he was powerless to stop it.

"Harry Potter, you are probably the world's best Keeper," she said, grinning at him. "I know you're going to do great."

"How do you know that?"

"Haven't you got people to impress?" she asked, giving him his favourite small smile. It was his, he was sure. That smile belonged to him. "Now, I believe in you and I'll be cheering for you."

He smiled widely, feeling his heart simultaneously speed up and go still. Essentially, it hiccupped.

"You're going to do great," she said again, needing him to know; "because I believe in you, Mr Potter."

Harry wanted to say something, or possibly even do something, but he remained completely still.

"Now go and show Slytherin just what you're made of."

He raised an eyebrow.

"What?" she asked innocently. "I want Gryffindor to win."

"Since when have you cared?"

She giggled. "Just win, Potter. We're all counting on you."

"I thought you were supposed to be making me feel better," he grumbled good-naturedly.

"Aren't I?"

He shook his head. "Not really, no."

Hermione took a deep breath, before she stepped forward and did something she'd never done before. She leaned towards him and gently kissed his cheek. "Does that make you feel better?" she asked when she pulled back.

Harry's eyes were open wide, and he didn't know how to respond.

"Thought so," she said, grinning at him. "Recover quickly, Potter," she practically sang; "I don't want to be held responsible for breaking our newest Keeper before his first big game."

Hermione didn't even give him a chance to respond, even though she suspected that he wouldn't have actually said anything. He looked too shocked, really, and she was mightily smug about it. She just gave him one last smile, and then proceeded to walk away.

Harry was still smiling as he stepped back into line and watched as Hermione made her way further up the corridor. He was aware of the fact that she stopped at Jack's side, clearly wishing him luck as well, but he found that it didn't really bother him as much as he thought it would.

She'd come for both of them. Not just him, and not just Jack.

Because, really, Harry didn't dream of monopolising Hermione's time or her relationships. He might hate her friends, Ron less so than Jack, for obvious reasons, but he wasn't going to bring it up at every opportunity.

He supposed that that was a key difference between the two brothers. He respected her decisions. She had to have important reasons for why she did everything that she did.

Or misguided reasons, but he wasn't going to mention it.

If anything, he knew that her relationships with Jack and with Ginny were strained. He wasn't sure what was happening between her and Ginny, but he guessed that Hermione was giving both of them ample opportunity to, what, redeem themselves?

Harry definitely wasn't holding his breath when it came to Jack.

Hermione passed by him again on her way out, and she gently touched his gloved hand, sending a shock of electricity through him. She hadn't even touched his skin, and yet he felt it. She smiled happily at him, and then she disappeared from sight.

If Harry hadn't been so bewildered by her presence; he might have noticed the heated look he was receiving from Jack. He also might have noticed the way that Jack's eyes followed Hermione as she left.

"All right!" Angelina screamed, from somewhere in front of Harry. "Everyone, move into position; they're about to announce us."

Harry took a deep, calming breath before he mounted his broom and waited. The wait was short, and then he was shooting into the sky, the sound of his name ringing around the pitch. Harry Potter, Gryffindor's newest Keeper!

Everything that happened after the whistle blew was a blur. Harry gave into the adrenalin pumping through his veins and relaxed his body enough to actually enjoy himself. He kept his eyes open for any and all dangers, including ones coming from his own teammates.

He was forced to avoid several Bludgers sent his way by the Slytherin Beaters. They actually set their sights on him rather early in the match, when they realised that he was the one truly keeping them from scoring as many goals as they usually did.

In the end, Jack didn't catch the Snitch. Draco Malfoy did. But he'd caught it too soon, and Gryffindor still ended up winning the match. It was a strange win, and the House wasn't sure how to celebrate it. Or even if they should. They'd won the game because of Harry and even those who didn't truly follow Quidditch knew it.

With the match over and most of the players gathering on the grass below him, Harry took a moment to calm down. His heart was still thumping in his chest and he could barely catch his breath. This happened. He won in his first Quidditch match. No, he played brilliantly in his first Quidditch match.

Eventually Harry also flew down to the grass, where he was congratulated by several Gryffindors, who were too much of Quidditch fans to maintain their misplaced grudges against the other Potter today. Harry mumbled his thank yous as he searched for someone familiar.

It wasn't difficult for Harry to locate his mother. Her shock of red hair was unmistakable, but there was the mess of Sirius Black's shaggy hair that really sealed it.

As soon as they found one another in the crowd that descended on the pitch; Harry was buried in a dual hug that hurt more than getting hit in the face with a Quaffle - which had actual happened a few times, when his arms hadn't been quick enough. Anything to stop Slytherin from scoring, right?

"Mum, Sirius," he protested, trying to get out of their mutual grasp. "I'm all sweaty."

"I don't care," Lily said, squeezing him once more before she did eventually release him. "It was terrifying watching you, but you were amazing."

Harry couldn't stop his grin.

Sirius ruffled his hair. "The greatest Keeping display I've ever seen," he said, puffing out his chest. "I like to think I had a little something to do with it."

"More than a little something," Harry said. "And thank you for the broom. It made my job a lot easier, that's for sure."

"It wasn't the broom, Harry."

All heads turned to their collective right where Hermione, Luna and Neville were approaching them, all sporting massive grins. Harry's own smile merely widened, because it was Hermione who'd spoken.

Harry was quick to do the introductions for Hermione, Sirius and his mother. Sirius raised an eyebrow when Harry referred to her as Granger, and he made a mental note to ask his godson about it at a later date.

Lily watched the interaction curiously. Of course, she recognised Hermione as the girl from the Hospital Wing from that day, and she was the girl she'd once discussed with Luna. But to see her with Harry was something entirely eye-opening. There was a new light shining in his eyes and he just seemed less burdened somehow.

She wouldn't go so far as to say he was happy, because life wasn't that kind, but he was definitely somewhere in the ballpark. Especially when he was smiling like that.

Hermione playfully ran her own hand through his damp hair, forcing him to look at her. "Didn't I tell you that you'd be great or what?"

"Yes, by all means, Granger, take all the credit if you must."

She laughed. "I wasn't seeking your permission."

Harry looked at her for a moment, his eyes softening. She was here. She was here with him, instead of being with Jack and, as much as he hated to think it; it meant everything to him.

To anyone watching, it was something more than an intimate moment.

Lily and Sirius exchanged a look. Only Sirius was smiling. Lily, admittedly, was worried, given that Harry told her that Hermione was Jack's friend. Even though she'd encouraged her son to be friends with her; it looked like something more was happening.

Lily's eyes drifted to Luna, who looked rather engaged in whatever Harry was saying to his little group of friends. For a while there, Lily'd been convinced that her son and his little blond friend would find their way to each other, but the content look on Luna's face made her think that that wouldn't be the case.

"Stop analysing the teenagers," Sirius whispered to Lily, and she turned to look at him. "Analyse your own love-life," he teased.

"What love-life?" she countered lightly.

"Exactly."

"Hey, Mum?"

Lily turned her attention to Harry. "What's up, Bud?"

He grinned at her. "We want to show you something," he said. "Do you mind coming with us?"

Lily looked from Harry, to Sirius, and then back to her son. "Just me?"

"Just you," he clarified.

Sirius exaggerated a gasp. "Oh, I see how it is," he said playfully.

"Accept it, Sirius," Harry said, reaching for his mother's hand. "I love her more than you."

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "That is a truly ambiguous sentence, mister."

Harry matched his facial expression with an eyebrow raise of his own. "Is it now?"

Sirius was robbed of a response, as Harry suddenly tugged on Lily's hand, and then mother, son and two best friends were scurrying away, leaving Sirius and Hermione behind. There was an opportunity for them to descend into awkward silence, but Sirius didn't let it happen.

"Do you know what that's all about?" he asked the young witch.

Hermione felt a little silly that she was nervous. She'd known that Harry wanted to show his mother something, and she'd even volunteered to stay with Sirius so that he didn't have to watch what he was saying in front of the prefect. But now, here she was with Sirius Black; a man she'd heard a lot about, from Jack and from James.

"Umm," she sounded, absently taking a step towards him. "My guess is that he's explaining to her the intense Charm work that went into their latest pranking escapades."

Sirius nodded thoughtfully. "And you got stuck with the old man because...?"

"I'm a prefect," she said; "and I don't normally approve of what they do. Plausible deniability and all that."

"You said normally," he pointed out. "When have you approved?"

Despite herself, Hermione blushed. "I suspect you'll get a kick out of the fact that it was to do with Jack."

"I'm insulted by that," he said, lifting his chin slightly.

Hermione might have taken him seriously, if it wasn't for the smile on his face. He really was rather handsome. She shook her head. What was she even thinking? "Didn't Harry tell you about it?"

"Unfortunately, no," he answered. "His mother gave me strict instructions not to encourage him."

She laughed lightly. "I'm surprised you listened."

He bent down slightly and dropped the volume of his voice. "See, the thing is, between you and me, Granger, I'm trying to convince Lily to go out with me, you see, so I have to be on my best behaviour at all times."

Hermione blinked. "You mean, umm, you're not already together?"

"No," Sirius said, frowning slightly. "What makes you think that?" At her lack of response, he asked another question: "Is that what James told you?"

She swallowed thickly. "He thinks you've been together for years," she explained.

He nodded thoughtfully. "So that's why he hates me so much." There were other reasons, of course, but he didn't think now was the time to voice them. She didn't need to know the intricacies of his non-relationship with the Lord Potter.

"It could also be because you're the father to Harry that he could never be," Hermione said without even thinking it through. When she realised what she'd said, she clamped her hand over her mouth.

Sirius laughed out loud. "I knew I was going to like you," he declared.

"I'm so sorry," she said hurriedly. "That was - goodness, I don't even know what that was." She buried her face in her hands. "I'm so sorry."

"It's all right," he assured her.

Hermione dropped her hands eventually, and bravely met Sirius' grey eyes. "You should know that he adores you," she said seriously. "The way he talks about you; it's easy to tell. He looks up to you, admires you for all you've done for him and for his mother. He wants to be great, you know, so he can pay you back somehow, I think. He wants to make you proud, so that you don't think that you've wasted your life trying to raise a failure of a kid that isn't even yours."

Really, Sirius hadn't expected her to be so candid with him. How old was she again?

Hermione took a deep breath. "So, you know, if ever you think you're not appreciated by him; just know that you are, even if he doesn't say it loud."

Sirius fought off his emotions. "Are you speaking from experience there?" he asked curiously.

Hermione didn't answer his question. There were things that she suspected only she knew about Harry, and she wasn't about to divulge them without his permission. "Maybe you should get a haircut," she said instead.

Sirius sputtered. He definitely wasn't expecting to hear her say that. "Excuse me?"

She smiled slightly. "A haircut. Drop the shaggy look as an experiment and see if Harry's mum responds favourably to it."

He frowned. "You think I need a makeover?"

"I think that she probably associates the look that you have right now with some of the harder years of her life; the years when she tried her hardest not to need you or rely on you," she said. "She needs to forget that she doesn't have to just need you anymore. She can want you as well."

He couldn't understand how he'd gone from coming to watch his godson play Quidditch to getting possible relationship advice from said godson's friend. Future girlfriend? Possibly. He took a deep breath. "Why does Harry call you Granger?" he asked, changing the subject.

She automatically smiled, whether at the mention of Harry or at the question; neither of them knew. "I suspect it's because he's a truly stubborn wizard," she said.

"Or he just likes the sound of your name," Sirius offered cheekily. "Harry Granger does have a nice ring to it."

"No it doesn't," Hermione automatically said, a blush rising up her neck. She'd given it some thought.

Sirius suspected that there was more going on between his godson and the young witch, but he didn't think that even they knew what that was. As tempting as it was, he wasn't going to push for answers to questions that they weren't even asking of themselves. As much as he wanted to.

"Can I ask you a question?" Hermione suddenly asked.

Sirius chuckled. "And where exactly were your manners when you were insulting the way I look five minutes ago?"

She didn't shy away from his gaze. "Nonsense. It was barely two minutes ago," she said so seriously that Sirius released a full-body belly-laugh that made several heads turn their way.

Including the head of James Potter and his brood.

They descended on the pair rather quickly, preventing Hermione from asking whatever question she wanted to ask Sirius.

"Hermione," Jack said, moving to stand at her side. "What are you doing talking to him?"

The witch stiffened at the malice in Jack's tone. "We're discussing the win," she said curtly. "Harry played quite well, didn't he?"

"If that's what you want to call it."

It was James who'd spoken, and all heads turned towards him. His wife and daughter were standing about a metre behind him, choosing not to engage in whatever conversation was going to occur between the older wizards.

"Hello, Sirius," James said tensely. "Hermione," he added, his voice sweeter. "We were waiting for you."

Hermione tried to smile at him. "I was going to head that way in a bit," she said. "Just keeping Lord Black here company until Harry gets back."

"And where has Gryffindor's newest Keeper gone to?" James asked.

Hermione's voice remained a monotone as she replied. "I believe he's showing something to his mother."

James looked thrown for a moment. "Lily's here then? I didn't think she would come."

"And why's that?" Sirius asked.

"Oh, I'm sure you know why, Sirius," James said, looking at his once best friend. "This place holds many memories."

Sirius stiffened, and Hermione watched his jaw clench dangerously. Sirius seemed to notice her look of concern, so he turned his attention to Jack. "Unfortunate you didn't get the Snitch this time," he said, sounding sincere. "That Malfoy spawn is probably going to laud it over you but, between you and me, it was a fluke."

Jack blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting Sirius to talk to him with any form of kindness.

James put a hand on his son's shoulder. "Don't talk to my son," he said.

"Which one?"

James clenched his jaw. "Sirius."

"Prongs."

James glanced around.

Sirius smiled, somewhat surprised by James' reaction. "Hah."

"Sirius," James warned.

"Oh, I'm sorry there, Senior Auror Potter," he said, grinning widely. "Did you say something about being an unregistered Animagus?"

Jack looked up at his father. "Dad, what is he talking about?"

"Nothing," James said, squeezing Jack's shoulder until it hurt. "And what about you then?" he snapped.

Sirius' smile only grew. "Oh no no, I'm not that stupid," he said hauntingly. "I've had the wonderful Lily Evans in my life since you decided she wasn't worth your precious time anymore. Do you really think she would allow me to exist unregistered after all these years?"

"Enjoying my seconds there, are you?"

Hermione couldn't help her gasp.

Sirius' hand twitched, wanting to draw his wand. Then he relaxed and smiled once more, his eyes dropping to Jack. "Has your father ever told you just how close your mother and I were in school?" he asked sweetly, and the meaning wasn't lost on anyone.

Jack's eyes widened, and he looked up at James. "Dad?"

James glared at Sirius. "We should go."

"Yes you should, before Harry and Lily come back," Sirius said coldly. "I don't want you talking to my son either."

The words sparked something in James; something dangerous. It never would have occurred to anyone that that something would be carried with him until the one moment he chose to release it.

Invariably ruining them all.

Unaware of the confrontation that was occurring on the Quidditch pitch, Harry, Luna and Neville were each talking a mile a minute at Lily. She'd tried to keep up, catching as much as she could. She laughed at all the right moments, and asked questions of their spellwork.

"But you're done now?" she eventually asked, after they'd exhausted themselves.

"With Jack, at least."

Lily's head snapped towards her son. "And just what is that supposed to mean, young man?"

He locked his own green eyes on hers. "I'm not the only one of us who has a bully," he said seriously. "It's just that mine is sometimes murderous."

She had no response for that. She wasn't able to explain to her son why Jack Potter got away with everything that he did, without explaining everything that came with it.

"We should head back," Luna said, her voice sounding oddly unsteady, as if she was picking up on something.

Harry heard it in her tone. "Luna?"

She shook her head. "We should go."

Harry led the way back to the Quidditch pitch where they found Hermione and Sirius exactly where they'd left them. He couldn't mistake that something felt different about the air. "What happened?" he practically demanded.

"Just a little run-in with James," Sirius said, looking at Lily's concerned look. "Nothing I couldn't handle."

Harry's eyes were on Hermione, as he moved to stand in front of her. Closer than was strictly necessary. "Are you okay?" he asked quietly, his fingers brushing against her cheek.

She looked at him through her lashes, somewhat surprised by the emotion she could hear in his voice. "I'm okay," she lied.

He raised an eyebrow, just waiting.

"It was ugly," she eventually said. "But I'm okay, really, Harry. Jack was just - " she halted. "And James... I'm okay. I promise."

Harry didn't believe her, but he let it go, and turned towards the group once more. He hadn't even noticed that he'd cut them off as he queried after Hermione's well-being. For a moment, they'd disappeared into their own world, but now they were back.

Eventually, the conversation with James and Jack was forgotten, and the six of them spent an obscene amount of time out there on that pitch, easily discussing too many things. At some point, they'd even settled down on the grass, merely extending the visit.

Hermione excused herself first, and ended up taking Luna and Neville with her, leaving Harry with his parents, in all intents and purposes.

"Thank you for coming," Harry said, when they all stood to say their goodbyes. "I know it wasn't easy."

Sirius just pulled him into a hug, and then he was walking away, giving him a moment alone with his mother.

Lily buried him in her own hug, squeezing him tight. She couldn't stop herself from imparting some wisdom, and he had to stop her before she started on a full-blown lecture. They were walking towards where Sirius had stopped when she said words that confused him.

"Just so you know, Harry, not that you need it or anything, but I do approve."

Harry frowned, clearly not understanding. "Of what?"

"Granger."

Harry couldn't hide his blush, but he still ended up shaking his head. "It's not like that between us, Mum," he explained.

"She obviously cares about you."

That just made him blush that bit more, and he looked away for a moment before his gaze settled on his mother's face again. "And she's Ginny's best friend."

Lily's eyes widened as she realised what that meant. "Does she know about your, umm, little crush?"

Harry nodded.

"Oh, sweetheart, I'm so sorry."

He sighed. "Yeah, Mum, me too."

Hermione waited until the next day to tell Harry about the conversation she'd witnessed between James and Sirius. She'd spent the night mulling over it, trying to see where all the hatred was stemming from.

She went so far as to think that someone had cast spells on both men to make them despise each other so much. It was a reasonable thought, given the way they'd been so determined to hurt each other with their words.

She was hesitant to think that that was how Jack and Harry would end up.

"Does that mean - " Harry stopped. "Do you think - " he stopped again. He took a deep breath. "I mean, I know that Sirius and my mum and James and Jack's mother all went to school together. My mum was roommates with Jack's mother. I think they were really close."

"It takes a different kind of man to cheat on his girlfriend - or fiancé in this case - with her best friend," Hermione said darkly.

"I think the word 'man' is being too generous there, Granger."

She nodded in agreement, as she continued to search the bookshelves for the specific book that she was looking for. While she concentrated, the tip of her tongue absently stuck itself out, and all Harry could do was stare at her.

"How do you spell the author's surname again?"

Harry glanced at the piece of parchment in his hand. "Tittensor. T-I-T-T - "

She cut him off. "Two Ts," she said, groaning in annoyance. "And bravo for not giggling like a schoolboy when you spelt that out loud." She raked her eyes over the shelf, and then grinned. "Ah hah!"

He watched as she retrieved the book and then immediately opened it to the index at the back. He was fascinated by the way her eyes scanned the words for what she was looking for. Her tongue was sticking out again, and he had a wild thought about what he could probably do to that tongue, which he quickly shut down.

"What was that?" she asked, glancing at him.

"Hmm?"

"Did you say something?"

He blinked rapidly. Did he? "No."

She gave him a curious look, but eventually returned to scanning the index.

Harry let out a breath. He should not be thinking about Hermione's tongue, or what he could possibly do to it. What was wrong with him?

Hermione eventually huffed and snapped the book shut. She somewhat violently returned the book to its position on the shelf and then, as if she were just catching herself; she ran a soothing hand along the book's spine as a silent apology.

Harry couldn't help but imagine what it would feel like to have her hand running down his spine.

Oh my God. Potter, get it together.

"What's the next name on the list?" she asked, and Harry welcomed the opportunity to focus on something else.

They worked through the list rather diligently, and Hermione ended up with four books that Harry carried back to his table. Their table.

They settled in to their work once more, and Harry was able to pay attention to the ingredients needed for brewing the potion they would hopefully be studying in the upcoming week. Professor Snape liked to keep them on their toes, so it was plausible that he would surprise them with something different.

"Why did you tell me about Sirius and James' conversation?" he asked after a while.

"I thought you'd want to know," she said, not looking up.

"But why?"

"You deserve to know," she said, her gaze finally meeting his. "I tell you things, Harry."

"About me?"

"And about me."

He smiled warmly. "I've always been able to tell you things," he said in response. "You're easy to talk to; I don't know what it is. I just, I trust you, and I trust that you'll keep my secrets."

"Because you'll keep mine?"

He raised an eyebrow. "What secrets?"