Chapter Eight: Please Don't Go
"What is she talking about?" Jack whispered, drawing the attention of both Hermione and Ron, who were sitting on either side of him. "Is she actually making sense? Am I the only one who isn't understanding?"
Hermione cast a look around the room, taking in the blank faces of her fellow students. She was especially amused by the look of actual shock on Harry's face. "It's not just you," she whispered back to him.
"We're all going to die when Voldemort comes for us," he replied darkly.
Hermione glanced nervously at their DADA Professor, but she was still rambling on about yet another Law that the Ministry was looking to enforce. They were truly inept sometimes. How could they be so against the idea of Dark forces, after everything that'd been happening lately?
Hermione wasn't actually paying attention to Umbridge, though she was still making notes. Even if she didn't necessarily agree with the syllabus, it didn't mean that she wasn't going to learn it.
Despite her misgivings about the teachings, she still wanted her O.W.L.
By the time the class was drawing to a close, Jack was literally shaking in his seat beside her. His temper was proving to be a problem these days and, if he didn't put a lid on it, he was going to end up with another detention.
At least Professor McGonagall was insisting on his detentions being held by their Head of House. Hermione suspected that that was at James Potter's 'request.' Not that she blamed him. Something about Umbridge was just terrifying. Honestly, she looked like a pure sadist.
Perhaps James was just able to recognise the traits in others of his kind.
Even Jack didn't deserve to be left alone with her.
Hermione sighed heavily, chancing a glance Jack's way again. Things were off between them, that much she knew; and she couldn't tell if it was something she was doing, or him. And if it was her; was she doing it on purpose? Was it because of the truth of the troll incident? Could she really just throw away everything that came afterwards, just because the beginning was different? What kind of friend did that make her?
Did it even make them friends?
Jack also seemed particularly off ever since the last Quidditch match. She suspected it was to do with what was revealed in James and Sirius' conversation, but Jack wasn't talking about it. A quick question to Ginny and Ron, and she knew that she wasn't the only one being shut out of whatever was going on in his head.
Hermione was worried. Internalising things was never a good idea when it came to Jack Potter.
Harry, of course, was handling it all a bit better. He seemed almost amused by it all, as if he found it so terribly funny that there was just so much more to the triangle - turned square - of the Potter parents. Even though it didn't appear to be bothering him; he still didn't actively talk about it. At least not with her.
She also didn't think that he talked to his mother about it. How does one even begin that conversation?
When the class ended, everyone rushed to pack up their things, clearly in a hurry to get out of the woman's classroom before, well, anything. She was just full of surprises. Hermione put her things away as neatly as she could, and the three of them started out of the classroom, chatting quietly.
"I'll be right back," Hermione suddenly said to her boys, before she ran ahead to catch up with Harry.
Jack clenched his jaw as he watched the two of them interact ahead of him and Ron. He watched with narrowed eyes as Hermione touched Harry's arm, as she leaned into him, as she whispered something in his ear, and as she laughed out loud at whatever he replied.
It grated on his nerves. Hermione was his friend. Hermione was his.
And yet she was still standing and talking to his brother.
Jack watched as Hermione checked her watch, glanced Jack and Ron's way and then shook her head. Jack closed his fists tightly, his fingernails digging into his palms. He'd be an idiot not to know what that meant. Was she now having to 'make time' for her friends?
Hermione said something else to him, and Harry smiled widely.
This was not okay. None of this was okay.
Hermione squeezed Harry's arm once more, before she turned and made her way back to Jack and Ron, a small smile on her smile. A secret smile. A content smile. And it burned Jack that Harry Potter put it there.
"Sorry about that," Hermione said as she reached them. "Thank you for waiting."
Ron grumbled something, but Jack said nothing as his eyes followed Harry's retreating back. He made a vow then that he would talk to Harry. The boy had to know that Hermione was his. His Quidditch spot was something else, but this was Hermione.
"Where are we working?" she asked.
"The Courtyard, please," Ron said. "The sun is actually shining today. Which means that the bloody snow is on its way. Who's to say when Scotland will be kind to us again?"
Jack couldn't bring himself to relax. "You two go on," he said. "I have to get something from the Tower. I'll meet you out there in a bit."
Hermione looked at him curiously. Maybe she could hear the lie in his voice but, even if she did, she said nothing. He'd noticed that she didn't try as hard anymore, to be around for him, as if there was something sitting on her brain that was making her question her friendship with him. It was true that she'd never approved of what he did to Harry, and he'd had to be rather sneaky about getting things done, but he just couldn't understand what had changed.
Why did any of it matter now?
Jack watched as Hermione hooked her arm with Ron's and then led the redhead away. He couldn't mistake the feeling that he was losing her. Or, really, that he'd already lost her. No. Harry Potter had taken her from him. Or he was taking her, and Jack was going to put a stop to it.
He wasted little more time as he took off in the direction that Harry had gone. Jack was walking much faster than Harry, so he caught up to him quickly enough.
"Oi, Black?"
Harry stopped walking mid-step, and turned slowly. There was no use trying to ignore him. "What can I do for you, Jack?" he asked, raising an eyebrow in a way that Jack knew Hermione did. Just how much time had they been spending together?
"You can stay away from Hermione; that's what you can do."
Harry hadn't been expecting that, and his frown showed it.
"She's my friend, you hear, and I want you to stay away from her," Jack continued. "Do I make myself clear?"
Harry watched several emotions flicker across Jack's face, all of them very confusing. "Does Hermione know that you're here?" he asked.
"Tell me that you'll stay away," he said coldly.
"I can't do that," Harry said seriously. "The reason you're here right now is the reason why I can't do what you're asking. If you were actually asking."
"I'm not asking."
"I thought so."
"What do you want?" he spat. "You've already taken my Quidditch team; you're taking my best friend! What do you want? My girlfriend? My parents?"
Harry said nothing. Why would Jack think that he would want anything from him? Why would he believe that? Was that what James told him?
"Stay away from Hermione."
"No."
Jack grit his teeth. "What do you want?"
"What do you want?"
"I've already told you," he hissed. "Stay away from my best friend."
"But why?"
"Why what?"
"Why should I?"
"Because she's mine," he growled.
Harry blinked.
Then his eyes widened, as realisation hit him. Jack's best friend. Those were the wrong words, weren't they? Jack meant something else, didn't he? Harry stepped back, a little surprised. "Oh."
Jack pressed his lips together, immediately knowing that he'd revealed much more than he intended to.
Harry wasn't sure what to say, so he said nothing. He waited barely a moment more, before he turned abruptly and hurried down the corridor. What just happened? What was that?
He definitely had a lot to think about now.
Harry, admittedly, felt rather panicked. What was he supposed to do with all this information? Did Hermione know? Did Ginny? What was supposed to happen now? What did he want to happen now? Could he talk to his mother about it? Maybe Luna had answers for him. Harry even let out a small chuckle when he thought of Neville possibly giving him advice.
Without Harry being entirely conscious of what he was doing; he started to avoid Hermione. He just couldn't be around her without hearing Jack say that she was his. Even though Jack hadn't explicitly said anything, Harry just knew. This was about so much more than a best friend.
This wasn't what Harry wanted. He didn't want her to be Jack's. He didn't want her to be anyone's. It was the last thing he wanted. Just thinking about it made his heart twist painfully, and he just wouldn't allow himself to understand why.
"It's Wednesday," Luna said, casting a look around the library. "Why isn't Hermione sitting with us?"
Neville looked from Luna to Harry, clearly expecting some kind of response from the Gryffindor.
"She's not coming today," Harry said simply.
"Why?"
Harry didn't respond.
"What did you do?" Neville asked.
Before Harry could respond - probably to defend himself in some way - Luna spoke up. "It's not Harry's fault," she said, sensing something in his demeanour. "Jack's just managed to get in his head."
Harry let out a long sigh. Jack was in his head, and it was irritating the crap out of him.
Luna turned her attention to Harry. "What did he say to you? What could he have possibly said to make you doubt your relationship with Hermione?"
He waited less than a beat, before he was telling them everything that happened. Then, after he received shocked, blank looks, he continued, expressing his own thoughts: "What if I'm just projecting?" he asked. "What if everything I'm feeling is a result of the fact that it does get under Jack's skin so much?" He shook his head. "I won't do that to Granger. I won't put her in the middle of whatever the hell I have going on with my brother. She deserves better than that."
He fell silent. "It's just that the thought, even the act, of staying away from her is making me physically ill. It hurts, and I just - " he stopped abruptly, and sighed heavily.
Luna and Neville exchanged a knowing look.
"You like her, don't you?" Luna asked.
Harry's eyes widened. "What?"
"You properly like like her, don't you?"
He swallowed. This was probably something that he could tell his best friends. He should be able to tell them these things. "Maybe I do."
"You should tell her."
He shook his head. "I can't do that."
Luna frowned. "Because of Jack?"
"No," he was quick to say, and it was the truth. This was never going to be about Jack. "Because of her. I know what will happen."
"What?"
"She's going to freak out and run, Luna. I know it." He shook his head. "She doesn't know - she doesn't think that she gets to be wanted, you know? Her parents have really done some damage, and she won't accept it. She'll run."
"So?" Luna asked, her eyes narrowing. "If that happens, then you run after her. It's really simple."
Harry looked a bit shell-shocked.
Luna returned her attention to her homework. "Boys," she muttered under her breath. "Completely useless."
Harry looked at Neville, who just shrugged at first. Then: "I think you should tell her," he said. "Jack doesn't fit into the equation. If he has twisted feelings about her, then that's his problem. Tell her how you feel and see what she says."
"But it really isn't that simple," Harry countered. Because it really wasn't. There was so much to think about; so many things to consider. They couldn't just have a happy, teenage romance. That wasn't how their lives worked. It definitely wasn't how his did.
Harry sighed again, and then leaned back in his chair. He knew he wouldn't be able to get back to his work now.
He liked Hermione.
What was he supposed to do with that?
Harry wanted to ask Hermione about it. She would know what to make of all of this. Did she like him? Sometimes he thought that she did. Like whenever her hand touched the hair at the nape of his neck, or whenever her eyes softened merely at the sight of him. But that could just be who she was as a person. He didn't think that she treated him any differently to anyone else.
Did she?
His head was spinning by the time Luna suggested that they start heading to the Great Hall for supper. He wasn't feeling very hungry, but he still packed up his things and followed them out of the library. They headed towards the Ravenclaw table when they arrived, but Harry really wasn't paying attention.
He barely ate.
And then he was heading up to the Astronomy Tower, alone. He needed some time to think things through. But think what through exactly?
Hermione Granger. Hermione Granger. Hermione Granger. How do you solve a problem like Hermione Granger?
The more he thought about it; the worse he felt. He liked her. That changed everything. Or nothing, if he chose to do nothing about it. But could he do nothing about it? Did he even want to?
Harry lay flat on his back and stared up at the ceiling, his heart thumping in his chest. He could tell her what he was feeling, and they could probably talk about it. She would listen to him, surely, and she would understand. But the last thing he wanted to do was make her feel like she had to choose. It was probably easier when they were still getting to know each other, but now it was different.
Because he liked her.
It was late - a few minutes before curfew - when Harry finally made it back to the Gryffindor Common Room. He was expecting to find it empty, but he had to know that she would be waiting for him. He'd given her enough reason to, hadn't he?
"You've been avoiding me."
Harry just stared at her, taking in the sight of her in the dim light. She was almost a silhouette, and it made his heart skip a beat. He wasn't prepared to stay away from her forever. He didn't think it was humanly possible. Maybe they did need to talk about it.
"I want to know why."
He sighed tiredly, before he made the decision to cross the Common Room and drop down onto the couch beside her. "I'm not avoiding you," he said softly, once he was settled; "I'm just trying to work through something."
She leaned against him, ignoring the way he stiffened at the contact. "I'm not used to your not talking to me about things," she said.
"It's not exactly something I can talk to you about," he confessed.
She turned her head to look at him. "There's something odd going on," she said. "Did Jack say something to you?"
He swallowed. "What makes you think that?"
"Because you're not the only one who's been acting weird."
Harry couldn't help but drop his head down onto her shoulder. He'd missed her quite terribly. Her presence. Her smell. Merely the sound of her breathing. What about the idea of staying away from her had snapped something deep inside of him?
"What did he say to you?" she asked, trying not to think too hard about the warmth of him.
"What do you think he said?"
Hermione put a hand on his leg, just to touch him. "I think that he told you to stay away from me," she said. "But I think that you told him no, which makes me wonder about what else he might have said to make you take him seriously."
Harry said nothing. What could he say?
Hermione also didn't speak again. The two of them just sat there, in silence as their heads continued to spin.
"Please don't take him seriously," Hermione said after a while, almost pleading with him. It could be heard in her voice. This avoidance of his was taking its toll on her as well, and she needed to put an end to it. Right now. "Sometimes he just says things."
Harry put a hand over the one of hers that was on his leg, linking their fingers. "It was different this time, Granger."
"Well, whatever he said, don't believe it, okay?" she instructed, her body tensing. "You're my friend now, and I won't let him interfere with that just because he's scared of losing me. Please don't make it easier for him."
"I'm not."
"Then what is it, Harry?" she asked. "What is wrong? With me? With us?"
Harry sat up. "I asked you before if you'd ever liked Jack," he said. "I never asked if you still like him." He breathed out. "Do you?"
Hermione looked surprised by the question. "Harry?"
"Do you?"
She swallowed, searching through her own feelings about the question. No, she didn't like Jack. Unfortunately, she was starting to figure out that she liked Harry, but she was going to keep that quiet. There was no need to blow everything out of proportion now. It was already amazing enough that he was her friend at all.
"Granger?" he prompted quietly.
"I don't," she said seriously. "What makes you think that I do?"
He looked her in the eye, searching for something. Any hint of an untruth. He needed to know. "What happened between you and Krum?" he asked.
"Harry," she said. "Why are you asking me all these questions? What did Jack say? What happened?"
Harry didn't answer her. He didn't even know what he was asking, or why. What was wrong with him? Why did he care? He didn't care. Did he?
God, this was all just so confusing.
"Harry."
He stared into her eyes, his breath quickening. "I'm sorry," he said. "I told you that I'm trying to figure something out."
"But you're still my friend, right?"
"Of course, Granger," he said. "I'm not going anywhere, okay?"
She tried to believe him, but there was a quiver in his voice. "Sit back again," she said, ignoring the thought that they were approaching some kind of crossroads.
He followed the order, and returned to his original position, his head dropping onto her shoulder again and staying there.
Hermione rested her own head on his, her left hand automatically searching for one of his. She squeezed his fingers gently, maintaining pressure until she could feel the erratic beating of his heart through his fingertips.
"Say, Granger?" he whispered.
"Hmm?"
"Have you ever wondered how rare and beautiful it truly is that we exist?"
Without thinking too much about it, she turned her head and placed a soft kiss on the top of his head, his hair tickling her nose. "All the time, Harry. All the time."
"Maybe we should call it a night," Hermione said, leaning forward enough that Harry could smell her. Did she always smell so good? "It's getting late."
Harry reached for her left hand, and turned her wrist over so he could see her wristwatch. It was something that he usually did, probably just as an excuse to touch her. "It's only midnight."
As if on cue, she yawned.
It took everything he had not to tell her she was adorable. "Okay then, time for bed," he said happily. "I strongly suspect that you're going to ace our Charms test."
"Do you think you'll get a higher mark than me?" she asked, smiling slightly.
"You're the only person I know who gets higher than a hundred percent, Granger."
She blushed a dark red, and then looked around the empty Common Room, as if someone could come to her rescue. "We'll see," she said secretively.
"I've definitely given up trying to beat you. Second place shall forever be mine, Granger." Harry stood up and started packing away his books. He also started on hers as well, as she sat and watched him, something different present in her eyes. She'd been looking at him differently lately, as if she was also trying to figure something out, and he wasn't sure if he should be worried or not.
He piled her books up for her, and resisted the urge to kiss the top of her head when he was done.
Hermione eventually stood up and put her books in her book bag, while he waited patiently. She could feel his eyes on her, boring into her.
Everything had been more intense between them since that late night talk, but she couldn't say why that was. He looked at her in a different, more intense way, and just the thought of him made the hairs on her arms stand on end.
Harry walked with her towards the staircase leading to the girls' dormitories and they came to a mutual stop, their eyes meeting. He desperately wanted to kiss her. It'd been a problem lately, and he was struggling to keep a handle on it. It was a burning desire, and he was almost certain it was going to reveal itself in a disastrous way.
Hermione had no such reservations. "Goodnight, Harry," she said quickly, and reached up to kiss his cheek, before she hurried up the stairs, disappearing from sight.
It took Harry quite a while to catch his breath. He was convinced that she was going to be the death of him, and she would probably enjoy it.
Truthfully, so would he.
Hermione bit her bottom lip, suddenly nervous about what she decided she was going to tell Harry. She'd given it a lot of thought, and she decided that she wanted to tell him. Not because he'd asked, though that prompted it, but because she wanted him to know. Why she wanted him to know, she would try to figure out later. He just had to know.
"I've been thinking," she said, dragging Harry's attention away from the chess match that was currently going on between Luna and Neville in the library. Luna was good, but Neville had a way of throwing her somehow, and she was desperately trying to figure out why that was.
Really, all she had to do was ask Harry, and he'd probably be able to tell her.
Harry looked at Hermione. She was sitting closer than normal, which was probably because they were actually sharing a large armchair, their bodies practically pressed together. Harry's heart was still beating widely, and having her look at him that way definitely wasn't helping.
"About what you asked me about Krum."
Harry tensed, his eyes bulging slightly. "Oh."
"I still don't know why you asked, but I've decided to tell you anyway," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I think he was fascinated by the fact that I wasn't fascinated by him," she started. "We didn't spend that much time actually talking." She giggled at his wide eyes. "No, we didn't do that either. I mean that the language barrier made conversation difficult, but I think I was a welcome break from the fangirls that took up most of his life."
"Weren't you a fan?" he asked.
"Not as much as Ron, that's for sure," she answered, smiling from a tinge of nostalgia. "Quidditch is just a game to me, you know? I don't really care much for it."
He exaggerated a gasp, and she giggled again.
"But I liked him," she continued. "He saw that I was a girl, and he took me seriously. I wouldn't say that he saw me exactly, but - " she stopped. She was not going to get into that right now. Now definitely wasn't the time to get into the fact that she probably didn't even know who she really was. "It was nice. We spent time together; my own welcome break from trying to keep my best friend alive. He was kind and so respectful. He didn't make me cry, and he even invited me to visit him in Bulgaria, imagine." She let out a light laugh. "He'd thought that there was something going on between Jack and me."
"Rita Skeeter helped with that," he commented.
She let out a small growl, and her body vibrated with the action, making Harry close his eyes. "She's another subject entirely," she said through gritted teeth. "I'm saying that you're not the only person to wonder if there's ever been something between Jack and me."
"Ginny?"
Hermione did not like it whenever he brought up Ginny. Something always flared in her chest, before her head caught up with her heart and called her irrational. Ginny was Jack's girlfriend. Everyone knew that. "She asked me about it once," she told him. "Just before they started dating. It was an easy answer then, and it's an even easier one now."
"Why now?"
Hermione did not respond to that question. "You took Luna to the Ball, didn't you?"
He shook his head. "Luna went with Neville," he said. "I went home."
"You did?"
"I really didn't want to be here for that," he said. "The entire year was already painful enough."
"So you don't know what happened between me and the boys?"
Harry suddenly had a dirty thought, but pushed it aside, forcing himself not to shudder in mild disgust. "No. What happened?"
"Ron made some comments about me and Viktor. I yelled at him. He yelled back. I cried, and Jack just led Ron away. It wasn't very pretty."
His eyes read her facial expression. "It still bothers you, doesn't it?"
"What?"
"He made you feel small," Harry said, guessing right. "There Krum was, making you feel seen, and then Ron took it all away." He shook his head. "And you believe him, don't you?"
"Believe him?"
Harry shifted slightly so he could look at her properly. He guessed that there were things that neglectful parents did to her personality. She was touchy because she received no obvious affection at home, and she was terribly understanding because she'd been dealt far too many disappointments for one lifetime. He also suspected that she worked as hard as she did, in the hopes that her parents would notice her, but that was difficult to do in the Wizarding World.
"Harry?" she prompted.
He smiled slightly. "So, was Krum your boyfriend?"
She blushed, but was saved from a response by the sound of Luna's sudden groan.
"Checkmate? What do you mean checkmate? I don't understand," the blond witch said, clearly exasperated. "I did everything right. I planned it all out." She looked suspiciously at Neville. "What did you do?"
"Nothing," he said innocently. Then: "Want to try again?"
Harry turned back to Hermione, who was now biting her bottom lip and looking thoughtful. He was tempted to repeat his question, but she beat him to speaking, throwing the questions back at him.
"So, you asked me about Jack and Viktor; do I get to ask you about Luna now?"
Harry burst out laughing, so surprised that he couldn't contain it. "Luna?" he whispered. "Are you kidding?"
"What?" she asked. "Luna is great."
"Luna is amazing," he admitted. "But she's literally like my sister, Granger," he said. "The same way that Neville is my brother. Seriously."
She blinked. "So... nothing?"
Harry leaned into her, bringing his forehead close to hers. "If you must know; I do believe that Longbottom there might actually have a crush on her," he said. "Though I can't be certain. He's never said anything to me."
"And why would he?" she asked. "Have you said anything to him?"
"About what?"
"Whoever you like."
Harry stared at her, trying to decide on the most suitable response. Whatever it was, the next words out of his mouth definitely weren't it. "He already knows," he declared.
Hermione froze. Then she remembered Ginny. "When did you first realise that you liked Ginny?" she asked.
Harry looked a little thrown for a moment, and then he sighed. "In the Chamber of Secrets."
"What?" she blurted out, then blushed when several heads turned her way. She immediately dropped the volume of her voice: "Wait, wait. What?"
"I mean, I suppose it was just that, at the end, after the Basilisk was dead and all; she was just so brave, and I thought, wow."
Hermione couldn't process all this new information. "You saw the Basilisk?"
He nodded, feeling a little embarrassed. "For a moment, I was even able to control it."
Her eyes widened. "What?" Then, somewhat savagely: "Stop making me ask questions and just tell me what happened." Because obviously Jack withheld the truth. Harry was there. How?
Harry didn't look taken aback, though he was surprised by the hint of desperation in her voice. "As is what happens whenever Jack is dumb enough to get himself into another scrap with Voldemort, I end up there as well," he said. "I don't know why. I just feel some pull, whether it's to protect him or deal with Voldemort because obviously Jack can't; that's anyone's guess."
"Apparation?"
"So my mother thinks," he agreed. "Some form of it, at least." He shrugged noncommittally. "So, imagine my surprise when I found myself in the Chamber of Secrets with Tom Riddle's soul child, a hotblooded Gryffindor and an unconscious Weasley. It was like the start to a truly terrible joke." He sat back, leaning against her again. She was so warm. "I was terrified, but I was so mad. I don't get where Jack goes off doing stupid things, and you - " he stopped suddenly. "You weren't there."
Hermione reached for his hand, and squeezed.
"I don't think the Basilisk actually wanted to hurt anyone," he said. "It was just being controlled by Riddle, so, you know, I fought for control, while the thing went hunting for Jack. Fawkes helped us out, definitely. Then, I had it. I had it, Granger, but Jack is a fucking idiot."
She flinched at the sound of the word, surprised he'd used it. He didn't even seem to notice that she'd reacted at all; he was so lost in the memory of that night.
"Because of him, I lost control, which was why it had to be killed."
From the way he avoided saying who killed the large snake, she just knew that it'd been him. Just how many things had he done that Jack twisted? She was tempted to ask him about their first year again, or even their fourth year, when he was the one who squeezed her fingers.
"I reckon Jack started to like Ginny around the same time," he said solemnly. Then: "He's the Boy-Who-Lived. I never stood a chance."
Hermione nodded thoughtfully.
"There was another girl at home," he confessed after a while. She'd told him about Krum, so he would tell her about Jennifer. "Jen was my first kiss, summer after third year. Sirius called me a late bloomer. My mum hexed him for that."
She giggled, relaxing her body and absorbing the heat of him. There was still so much that she wanted to ask; so much that she needed to know about him. If she knew him, then maybe she would be okay with his knowing her. Maybe.
"We went on a disastrous date after that, and she never spoke to me again," he explained, tempted to lift his arm and put it around her shoulders. "Girls are so complicated sometimes."
Hermione was inclined to agree with him. "But we're worth it," she said, letting him know.
"Jen wasn't," he said quietly; "but you definitely are."
Her breath caught, and her eyes flickered towards his face, searching for something. She found it amusing that he was making an effort not to look at her. He was too much sometimes. She couldn't resist leaning towards him and kissing his cheek quickly, as if she were stealing something from him.
Harry would have given it willingly. He was grinning widely when he turned his own head to look at her. "One day I'm going to reciprocate, and we'll see how you like it," he warned, sounding deathly amused.
"I'd like to see you try," she teased.
"Oh, I will," he said, turning his attention back to Luna and Neville. "You won't even see me coming."
"You didn't listen, Black."
Harry sighed, his shoulders tensing.
"I told you to stay away from her," Jack said coldly.
Harry turned on his heel to face his barely older brother. He was, yet again, struck by how dissimilar they were. They looked nothing alike, which was a relief, but then Harry disliked the fact that he resembled James Potter so much. But, really, were he and Jack even related?
"Why won't you listen?"
Harry's eyes narrowed. "No," he said coldly. "Why don't you listen? I said no. I can't, and I won't, so just accept that Granger and I are friends, okay?"
Jack was breathing heavily. "Is that all you are?"
"What do you even care?" Harry sht back. "You're with Ginny, aren't you?"
"So, what, you can't have my girlfriend so you settle for my best friend?"
Something snapped in Harry, and he lunged forward to pin Jack up against the empty corridor's wall. He didn't normally react violently, but Hermione Granger was off limits. "I am not settling for anything," he hissed, his green eyes practically glowing from his anger. "How do you think she would feel if she heard you talking about her like that?"
"Let me go," Jack said, fighting against Harry's hold.
"I'm friends with her," Harry said, practically growling. "Get over it, or you're really going to be the one to lose her." At that, he released Jack, stepped back, turned and started to walk away.
"She'll figure it out, you know?" Jack said, and Harry stopped walking, though he didn't turn back. "She'll figure out that you're just using her to get to me, and then she'll come running right back."
Harry shook his head. "You call yourself her best friend, but you know nothing about her." That was all he would say, as he continued on his way. He could sometimes understand Jack's irrational fear of losing her, but what he couldn't understand was why he thought she belonged to him.
He was still mulling it over when said witch practically tackled him when he arrived in the Common Room later that night, minutes before curfew.
"I was about to send out a search party," she said, her one arm wrapping around his waist as she led them to their couch.
Harry sat down first, bringing her down with him. His heart was racing. It usually was whenever she was around these days. How could one person do this to him? He felt like everything about his life just wasn't as it seemed anymore, and it was terrifying.
"Jack was snarkier than usual today," she said casually; "Did you two get into a spat again?"
"We might have," he confessed.
"About?"
"I'll give you three guesses, and the last two don't count," he said softly.
"Me, then."
"It seems to me that you're very important to both of us, Granger," he said. "He's trying to assert some form of dominance, because he's scared of losing you, which is something I can understand. That thought terrifies me."
"Harry?"
"Listen to me," he said seriously. "I can sit here and complain about how sucky my life is, but it really isn't. There are thousands of people who have it worse than I do. I mean, even if I was nothing; even if I had nothing; the fact that I even knew you would be enough for me. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
Hermione thought she did, but she couldn't accept it. He wasn't saying what she thought he was saying, because nobody would ever say such a thing to her. She kept coming back to the same thought that, if her own parents didn't want her; why would anyone else?
It was hard enough making and accepting friends, but Harry was saying something else.
"Harry," she said, the warning clear in her voice.
Harry didn't back down. "Do you understand what I'm saying?" he repeated.
"Is this that something that you're working through?" she asked. "Are you two literally having a fight over who I get to be friends with?"
"No," he said, and he meant it. "This isn't some fight. This isn't some wrestle for your attention, Granger. What I'm telling you is that you are important to me, and I intend to be your friend, no matter what anyone says. Especially not Jack. Or you, really. So, do you understand?
"Do you understand what you mean to me? That you've burned me, and I can't go back to just being a stranger to you. I won't. Not for anyone. I'm selfish, and I don't care. I'm being selfish. Do you understand?"
She blinked rapidly. "Harry?"
He smiled at her, then did something unthinkable and kissed her cheek. It was the first time he'd done it, and it'd taken all his willpower to aim for the skin of her cheek instead of her inviting lips. "I think you understand now, Granger."
She was too surprised to speak. Her mouth fell open, and she didn't have the wherewithall to close it.
"Yes," he said; "you definitely understand." He sat back and waited quietly in the cacophony of their mutually erratic breathing.
"You're definitely making for an interesting year, Potter," she said after a while, just managing to recover. "Intent on shaking things up, are you?"
"This isn't a game to me, Granger."
She swallowed. "I know it's not, Harry."
"It never was."
She sighed. "I know, Harry. I know."
"I promise it never will be. Not to me."
She reached for both his hands, squeezing them tighter than was completely necessary. Really, she just needed him to stop talking. "You're saying a lot of things I'm not ready to hear, Potter."
"Then hear this, Granger: I believe that it's rare and beautiful that you exist." And, really, that was all there was to it.
"It looked like Angelina killed you during practice today," Hermione said, flicking one of Harry's arm muscles with her middle finger. "I'm surprised you can even climb these stairs right now."
"Thanks for walking with me," he said, groaning slightly. He barely had the energy to make it up to his dormitory room, but having her with him was definitely helping. She was distracting enough that his brain wasn't focused on the throbbing in his muscles. "I probably shouldn't have stayed behind to get in some extra work," he said, stretching his one arm. "I'm going to feel like death tomorrow."
"Why is she working you guys so hard when your next match is in February?"
"Because she wants to win," he said. "And because Jack didn't catch the Snitch. She's still angry with him. It's actually quite funny." He paused on a step to stretch out his right calf, then continued to walk.
Hermione watched his legs as he walked, noticing a slight limp. Had he hurt himself? Before she could ask him the question, they were in the dormitory, alone. Harry shuffled towards his bed and flopped down on its edge, groaning in relief.
She sat down next to him, close enough to feel the heat of him. "Can I ask you something?"
He looked at her. "Of course."
She couldn't look at him. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to."
"Granger, what is it?"
"Have you figured out that something that you had to figure out?"
He swallowed thickly. "I have, yes."
"So we're okay now?"
"When weren't we?"
Hermione elbowed him. "Are you going to tell me what was bothering you?"
Harry didn't know what he could say to her in this moment. She was expecting an answer, and he couldn't think of anything other than: I desperately want to kiss you right now; kind of always, actually. Somehow, he didn't think that would go down well.
"Harry," she said, leaning into him slightly. He was practically radiating heat.
"I don't think that you really want to know," he said. "I don't think that you're actually ready for what I could tell you."
"Harry?" Her voice sounded small, vulnerable, and it tugged on his heartstrings.
His eyes met hers, and something snapped inside of him. He couldn't resist it any longer. He lost the battle. Epically. As a result, he barely gave her time to react as he leaned forward to capture her lips with his own. It was a hesitant kiss, both of them caught between relaxing into it or stopping altogether.
Hermione pulled away first, her eyes wide. "Harry?" she whispered in panic.
"Granger," he said breathlessly.
She shook her head as she rose to her feet, immediately backing away from him. "Please tell me that was a friendly kiss."
"I'm sorry," he said, swearing internally. What was he thinking? "It's not," he told her. "I, umm, I've wanted to kiss you for a while."
"Potter?"
"Granger."
She stood up. "I should go."
Harry kept a hold of her hand. "Wait. Just, please don't go."
Hermione stepped away from him, forcing his grip on her to loosen. "God, Harry, what did you do? What did you do?" And then she rushed out of his room, and Harry didn't have the wherewithal to go after her.
What had he done?