Chapter Eleven: A Girl Worth Fighting For
Harry practically flung himself at the phone the second he heard it ring. "I got it!" he yelled out to the house, before he took a deep breath and answered. "Hello?"
"Hey, Boyfriend."
He felt his entire body relax at merely the sound of her voice. "And how is the most beautiful girl in Austria doing?"
"I'm great… but I miss you so much."
Harry could hear a hint of sadness in her voice and it hurt his heart. "I miss you too, Granger," he admitted. "Tell me, what amazing things have you been getting up to with your parents?"
"I've barely seen my parents," she informed him quietly. "My parents would rather throw cash at me and send me on my way than spend any time with me. I'm essentially having a very expensive holiday by myself."
"Oh Granger," he breathed.
"It's okay," she said, but he could hear very clearly that it wasn't. It obviously wasn't and he hated her parents for doing this to her. "It's not all bad," she continued. "I ski in the mornings. I'm pretty good at it too. I'm thinking of learning how to snowboard. The instructors are rather good-looking as well."
"Granger." He was finding it difficult not to be amused.
"What? They are," she said, giggling. "And their accents are very attractive."
"If you're trying to make me jealous, it's working," he muttered.
"Oh, don't you worry, Harry Potter, I have eyes for only you," she assured him. "And plus, I spend the rest of the day watching movies in my room and ordering room service like it's going out of fashion. I hope you'll still like me when I look like a whale."
"Oh, I'm sure I will," he said with a laugh.
She went quiet on the other end of the line.
"Granger?"
"I wish I'd never left," she said so softly that he had to strain to hear her. "Even being back at Hogwarts would be so much better than this."
His heart positively ached for her. "You'll be back home before you know it," he said, unable to inject any enthusiasm into his voice.
"I can't wait," she whispered, her voice falling flat. "Anyway," she sounded, clearing her throat. "I should probably go. I'll call tomorrow to wish you properly, okay?"
He wanted to say so many things, but the words just wouldn't come. He could hear that she didn't want him to say them either - she wouldn't believe them, either way.
"Okay," he finally said, sounding defeated.
"I miss you, Harry."
"I miss you too."
There was a long pause. "Bye, Potter." And then she hung up.
Harry wasn't sure what he was feeling but he knew that he hated it. How was he supposed to enjoy his Christmas when his girlfriend sounded so miserable?
"Harry?"
He turned towards the sound of his mother's voice. "Hey, Mum," he said quietly.
"Is everything okay? Was that Hermione? Is she okay?"
He sighed. He knew he could talk to his mother about this. She knew things. She would understand. "Your parents weren't too supportive of you when you were pregnant with me, were they?"
If Lily was surprised by the question, she didn't let on. "You could say that, yes," she said slowly. "They thought your father and I were too young and, I suppose, in the Muggle world, maybe we were... We also weren't even married, so that was part of it. Why are you asking?"
"Even though they weren't around when I was born... before they passed away; did you think about them? I mean, did you miss them? Would you have done anything to have them accept you again?"
Lily felt a bit uncomfortable with this line of questioning and she honestly had no idea how this all related to anything, let alone Hermione. "Harry?" she queried.
"Would you?"
"Not anything," she admitted. He was old enough to understand what that meant. "I still have you."
He nodded his head. "That was Granger," he told Lily. "She's missing home. Her parents, umm, aren't exactly giving her the attention she deserves. They don't usually, and yet she flew halfway across the world to be with them. I hate that they're making her regret it."
"Oh."
Harry looked at his mother. "I'm sorry about how your relationship with your parents ended, Mum," he said. "If I could have made it better for you, I would have."
She moved towards him and drew him into a loose hug. "You do make it better, sweetheart. Every day."
He hugged her back, squeezing her tighter than usual. "How do I make it better for her?" he asked, almost pleading with her to give him all the answers.
"I don't think there will ever be one failsafe thing that could magically fix everything," she explained to him. "Just let her know that you care about her," she paused; "that you might even love her."
He blushed, his mouth already open to refute her assumption. He did not love Hermione Granger. Did he? Goodness, they'd just started dating.
But still, something forced him to ask a different question: "Mum, I kissed her and she bolted. What do you think is going to happen if I tell her that I might love her?"
"When you tell her, Harry; you have to be sure," she said, a warning in her tone. "There shouldn't be any might about it. Based on what you've told me about her life at home; she's probably wary of her relationships turning into the ones she has with her parents. So if you're going to go all in, you have to be sure."
"I will be."
Lily noted that he said it so strongly, so confidently, that she was inclined to believe him. "Good," she said; "now come help me with the sauce before Sirius decides to make that disaster he tried last year."
Harry could only laugh at the memory as he followed his mother into the kitchen, his mind already coming up with ideas on how to welcome Hermione home the right way.
Christmas itself was a rather uneventful affair for Lily, Sirius and Harry. They usually spent it together, at Lily and Harry's home in Surrey, which, incidentally, was the house that Lily grew up in with her own parents and the sister that she very rarely spoke to. It didn't matter that they lived less than seven kilometres away from each other; there may as well have been three thousand kilometres between them.
It seemed that Lily's parents died before they were able to change their wills and, really, Lily's sister wasn't interested in the family home. At the time, Lily had no choice, and now she couldn't imagine living anywhere else.
Harry, admittedly, spent most of his Christmas Break thinking about Hermione and, as a result, he couldn't really get into the cheer of the holiday. It just didn't sit well with him that he could have such a great Christmas while his girlfriend was positively miserable. He didn't think that he could hate two people more than he hated Hermione's parents in that moment; and he was the bastard son of James Potter, so it really was saying a lot.
Harry wouldn't claim that the entire holiday was a waste, because he was able to see his mother and Sirius continue to dance around each other, as if they both didn't know that they were both hopelessly in love with each other. If it wasn't so terribly heartbreaking; Harry might have found it amusing. At times, he thought that they were holding out for his sake, but he'd told each of them repeatedly - and separately - that he would be okay with it if ever they decided that they wanted to try. At this point, he decided that he wasn't the one stopping them; it was themselves.
Or maybe there was more to it. There seemed to be more to everything these days.
Harry's questions about Voldemort largely went unanswered. Lily, obviously, didn't know as much as Sirius, because she refused to be actively involved in the Order of the Phoenix. She offered her skills in potion-brewing and spell-crafting, but she would never step foot into their Headquarters. She refused to put herself in a situation where she had to interact with James Potter or his wife.
At the apex of the Second Wizarding War, she'd even been accused of not participating in the fight enough from within the Order, which resulted in a rather heated row between Sirius and those who thought voicing their opinions would be a good idea. When Sirius threatened to pull his funding from the Order; mouths were clamped and idiots were appeased.
Despite his irritation with being shut out of any and all Order business; Harry did appreciate the things that his mother and Sirius did tell him. He knew that Arthur Weasley was released from St Mungo's, and was recovering well with his family at home. He knew that Voldemort was planning something, but apparently the Order didn't even know what.
Harry didn't tell anyone that he sometimes got the impression that he knew. It was a stupid notion, of course, but he couldn't help it. After everything that happened with the snake; he got the feeling that if he'd actually taken the time to decipher his cryptic dreams, he might have been able to stop Mr Weasley from getting injured. He couldn't fathom how or even why he felt it, but it was a niggling thought that was refusing to go away.
He made a note to discuss it with Hermione when she returned. Really, he couldn't wait to see her. He never expected that he would be this kind of boy, and his mother found it rather amusing that he moped around the house as much as he did, merely counting the days.
In what felt like a truly short time, Hermione Granger reached a level of importance in his life that was probably quite dangerous. He couldn't recall the exact moment when everything changed, but she was now the most important. She truly was.
Because she was in Austria, Hermione moved into the New Year first, and she made sure to call him from it. They spent the entire call giggling, and she admitted to having a glass of champagne - or three - during the festivities. Apparently her parents hadn't been paying enough attention. The responsible girl he knew probably would have stopped after one - or even had none at all - but he suspected that she was silently rebelling, or just seeking some attention from her parents. It was rather heartbreaking.
But, then again, a tipsy Hermione was bloody amusing.
Harry would have listened to her ramble on and on about all the things that were bothering her - the stars shining too bright; the music from the neighbouring room making her walls dance and so forth - but she fell silent about fifteen minutes into the call, and it took him another thirty seconds to realise that she'd fallen asleep.
"Happy New Year, Hermione," he whispered to her. "I lo - " he stopped suddenly. Was he really going to tell her that he loved her? Did he? Was he sure?
He had to be, because he was certain that he was going to have to convince her of it. He had to be able to look her in the eye and ensure her that there wasn't even the slightest uncertainty in his feelings.
"I miss you," he eventually said, finally settling on something safer. "I'll see you when you get back."
Hermione sought out Harry as soon as she boarded the train. Despite being away from all her friends for the entire Break; he was the first person she wanted to see, and she wasn't even embarrassed by it.
She found him in a compartment near the end of the train, already sitting with Luna and Neville. At the first sight of him through the door's window pane, she practically burst through the door and all but fell into his waiting arms, and squeezed the life out of him. He felt different, stronger somehow. Surer.
It didn't matter; she wasn't letting him go.
"Hello to you too, Hermione," Luna said, sounding amused. "How was your Break?"
Hermione breathed into Harry's chest one last time, before she stood up straight and turned to the Ravenclaw. "Hi, Neville. Hi, Luna," she said easily, her grip on Harry's waist never faltering. "It was definitely an interesting one. How was yours?"
"Great!" Luna exclaimed, before Neville could even begin to open his mouth to reply. "We think we're getting close."
"Close to what?"
Harry raised a hand to stop the girls' conversation. "Okay, before the two of you get into that conversation; I think I'd like to give my girlfriend her Christmas present now."
Hermione turned her gaze on him. "What? No. Yours is still in my trunk. We're going to have to do this later, Potter."
"But I want you to open it now."
"Later, Harry."
He sighed heavily. "Fine."
She couldn't resist kissing his cheek. "It'll be worth it. I promise."
If they'd been alone, Harry might have done something stupid and pulled her flush against him to kiss her senseless. But, alas, they weren't alone, which was why he slipped his hand into hers and tugged her down to sit next to him. He just wanted her close to him.
"I've missed you," he whispered.
Hermione leaned into his side, soaking up the warmth of him and enjoying the sound of his breathing. She'd been without meaningful human contact since she bid him farewell at the airport, and she wasn't going to waste a second of it. "I've missed you too," she replied in a whisper. "Though, I won't be able to stay that long." It was a little heartbreaking to see his face fall but she pushed through it. "I have a prefects' meeting to attend," she explained, and she felt his body relax slightly. "And probably a patrol."
"Oh, the joys of being a prefect," Luna said, sighing dramatically. "What a terrible, horrible life!"
Hermione giggled, as she turned towards the blonde. "You know, Luna, I'm convinced that you'd be a great prefect," she said happily.
Luna rolled her eyes. "Oh, of course," she said. "Imagine my having to tell my classmates what to do. It'd be a nightmare."
"They'd never take you seriously," Neville commented, speaking for the first time since Hermione's arrival and the entire compartment seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief. Harry never did quite understand the dynamic that was Hermione and Neville, and he doubted he'd be able to start now.
"And why is that, Neville?" Luna asked, her voice taking on a bit of an edge.
Neville didn't hear the warning in her voice, and innocently ploughed ahead. "It's because you're so tiny," he said. "Like a little pixie."
"I resent that," she huffed.
"But a cute pixie," he said, and then he froze, realising what he'd said. Neville looked like a deer caught in headlights. Did he just say that out loud?
Luna looked a little bewildered, but she decided not to comment, choosing rather to move the conversation along. She started to tell them about her most recent expedition with her father. It was, of course, unsuccessful, but she sounded as if she were happy about it.
Harry and Hermione kept exchanging knowing looks. Neville definitely liked Luna.
After a few minutes, Hermione told them that she had to go. She kissed Harry's cheek again, whispered that she would be back soon, and then left the compartment; all of them watching her go. Harry shook off his suddenly empty feeling, and asked Luna to go on about her holiday.
In the end, Hermione didn't end up coming back to their compartment. Harry tried not to think about it too much as the Express pulled into Hogsmeade Station. He tried to spot her as they made their way up to the Castle, searching the top of the crowds for the bushy brown hair he knew a little too well, but he didn't spot her.
And, what was worse, was that Hermione didn't make it to dinner in the Great Hall either. He noted that neither did Ginny, and his mind took him to a scenario where Mr Weasley actually wasn't okay. But then he spotted Ron and the twins, looking perfectly content, and his relief quickly turned to confusion. Where was she? He couldn't squash the terrible feeling he had in his gut, and it made eating terribly uncomfortable for him.
It was only when he was back in Gryffindor Tower that he learned what had happened. Apparently, it was now the talk of the Castle that Jack Potter and Ginny Weasley had broken up over Christmas. It was such a strange bit of news that Harry wasn't sure what to make of it.
He didn't actively ask for information, but the rumour mill was already running, and there were some truly preposterous reasons for the breakup being perpetuated. Harry decided it was best to wait and see if someone would eventually set things straight before he believed that Ginny broke up with Jack because she blamed him for her father's injuries.
Hermione made an appearance in the Common Room just moments before curfew. She looked haggard and completely defeated. Her eyes sought out Harry, who she wasn't surprised to note was already looking at her, seated on their couch with a concerned look on his face. Thankfully, the room was practically empty, with a few Sixth-Years huddled around a table, working on a project.
She'd barely taken a few steps towards him when he was up on his feet and drawing her into a tight hug. It truly was just what she needed, and she clutched onto him for quite some time. When they eventually released each other, Harry spoke first.
"Are you okay?"
"Sort of," she admitted. "This whole thing is just so weird. I mean, I assume you heard what happened."
He nodded once, taking hold of her hand and leading her back towards the couch.
Once they were settled down next to each other, Hermione continued with the explanation. "I mean, they're both really stubborn, so I figure they'll get back together eventually... Right?"
Harry wasn't sure if he should respond, so he just made a non-committal sound.
"She expected more," she said quietly. "After what happened to her father, she expected more from him; more comfort; more understanding. But that isn't really Jack. I think she sees the way that you are with me, and she realised that that isn't what she gets with Jack. He didn't really treat her that well. I guess they fought about it, and the breakup was decided on in the heat of the moment."
"That's why you think they'll get back together?"
"They love each other."
Harry didn't actually think so and, frankly, from Hermione's tone of voice; it was clear that she didn't think so either.
"I'm sorry I didn't come back to the compartment," she said. "Ginny's kind of demanded my full attention. She's claiming that she wins me in the breakup." She risked a smile. "I haven't actually spoken to Jack about it. Do you think they'll make me choose?"
Harry didn't know how to answer that. "Would you, if they did?"
"Definitely not," she said quickly. "I just - it's going to be awkward and weird for a while, isn't it?"
"Probably."
She leaned into his side, her head dropping to his shoulder. "Can I tell you a secret?"
"Granger, you know that you can tell me anything."
She let out a long breath. "I am so happy to be back," she whispered. "I missed school, sure, and I missed my friends, but I really missed you, Harry, and I just now figured out why." She looked him in the eye. "It's because, when I'm with you, I feel seen. It's terrifying, and I'm still working through all of that, but I just want you to know that, out of everyone I know, I missed you the most."
Harry dropped a kiss onto the top of her head, but opted to say nothing in response. He didn't think that she expected him to reply, and maybe it was better if they allowed the silence to surround them; to embrace them. He'd missed her too and, truly, he was surprised that she'd admitted so much to him out loud. She didn't normally vocalise her deeper feelings, and he was glad for this progress she seemed to be making.
He was the one to break their silence though, solely with the intention of making her smile. "I know you've had a tough day and all but, you know, you did kind of promise me a Christmas present."
Hermione couldn't stop her laugh, and Harry felt the vibrations of it through his own body. "I actually have it right here in my pocket," she said, digging around in the right pocket of her robes. "You're not allowed to laugh though."
"Wouldn't dream of it."
The present was small, in a palm-sized box, wrapped with all the care in the world. Harry took it from her and just stared at it.
Hermione giggled. "Aren't you going to open it?"
He took a quick breath, before he opened it. He was very aware of Hermione's eyes on him, just waiting for his reaction.
Hermione wasn't disappointed.
Harry's mouth dropped open. "Hermione?"
It was always a little too much to bear whenever he said her first name. His mouth was designed to say it, she was so sure of it.
"This is - wow. Granger, just wow."
Hermione just stared at his face, her focus never straying. "It's not that I think you actually need it," she told him. "You're really very punctual. It's just - "
"I love it," he said, cutting her off, as he reached into the box to retrieve the wooden watch.
"The case is made from real bamboo," she informed him, suddenly feeling a bit nervous. "And the design is really minimal, because, you know, you're not exactly, flashy, which is just one of the things that I like about you." She looked a little embarrassed. "It's fully mechanical, so you shouldn't have any trouble in the Castle. Do you really like it?"
"I do," he was quick to say, immediately putting it on his left wrist. "Now I won't have to use your watch anymore."
"It's a travesty."
"Thank you, Granger," he said, looking at her. And then he was kissing her, his mouth moving over hers with practiced ease. He might have kissed her for hours, if she didn't push on his chest to get a much-needed breath of air.
"Okay, okay," she said, laughing lightly. "It's my turn now... Where's my present, Potter?"
He just grinned at her.
Hermione wiped his mouth with her fingers, and then raised an eyebrow at him. "Harry Potter?"
For a moment, he didn't move, and then he was fishing for her present in his own robes. His box was smaller than hers. "I'm a little bit worried," he told her.
"Why?"
"You'll see."
Hermione didn't waste as much time as he did opening her present. His left leg was literally vibrating with his excitement and nerves. She opened the small jewellery box to reveal a silver necklace with a double pendant with encrusted crystals.
"The 'H' is for Hermione," he was quick to say, reaching for the necklace so he could put it on for her. She shifted her hair out of the way, and he gently clasped it behind her neck. "And the peace sign is because, well, you're - " he dropped his gaze " - you're my peace, Hermione."
She just stared at him. Words usually seemed to fail her whenever he used her first name.
"Like, when I'm with you, the rest of the world doesn't matter," he explained, running a gentle finger down the length of her neck. "Only you do."
This time, it was Hermione's turn to kiss him. She had to, really, because she might have started to cry if she didn't. Boys like him didn't exist. They just didn't, and she was trying to tell him that without having to use the words.
They broke apart at the sound of a loud squeak. Ginny Weasley was standing in the archway leading to the girls' dormitories, looking at them with an expression that neither of them recognised; or particularly liked.
"Sorry," the redhead suddenly said, and then sprinted back up the stairs, leaving Harry and Hermione in absolute silence.
"That was... odd," Hermione said.
Harry let out a breath. "You should probably learn to control yourself," he said, and she laughed, her fingers automatically reaching to play with the pendants of her necklace.
"Are you sure the 'H' is for Hermione, and not for Harry?" she asked, eyeing him curiously.
"Believe what you want to believe, Granger."
"It's just that, if it were really my name, wouldn't you have got a 'G?'"
He laughed out loud. "Oh, Granger," he whispered, the fingers of his right hand playing with loose strands of her hair. "I really missed you. I really did."
"I missed you too, Harry." She smiled widely. "And thank you for my present. I really do love it, even though you've pretty much marked me as yours."
He laughed nervously, raking a hand through his unruly hair. He didn't want her to think that he'd got her the necklace because he wanted to 'claim' her or anything ridiculous like that. He didn't do it because he wanted others to see that she was his. He bought the necklace for her, and her alone.
Okay, maybe a little bit for him. Because she was wearing his present.
Hermione eventually tucked the necklace behind her shirt collar. Jewellery wasn't exactly part of the school uniform, but she vowed never to take it off. She'd keep it hidden when in her uniform. She still hadn't decided if she'd keep it hidden other times as well. Really, she was all for avoiding conflict.
Harry allowed them to drift into comfortable silence for a while, his brain mulling over whether or not he really did get 'H' for her or for him. It was a while before he decided to break the quiet. Their first day back hadn't exactly gone to plan, but he couldn't forget the reasons behind the fact that he hadn't seen her since before Christmas.
"Do you want to talk about your holiday?" he asked gently.
Hermione sighed heavily. "There isn't much to talk about, Harry," she said simply. "I flew to Austria to spend time with my parents, and that isn't what ended up happening. I can't say that I'm surprised."
"I'm sorry," he said softly. "I know you think that this was your last chance, but I don't choose to believe that."
She blinked rapidly, suddenly fighting off a fresh wave of tears. She'd cried enough over the Break. When she managed to wrangle control of it, she spoke again. "I don't know which is worse, Harry," she said thoughtfully; "neglect or outright hate."
"Neither," he answered. "Though, I'm sure it would help if there was an actual reason."
She nodded in agreement. "I've spent years coming up with all these scenarios, you know, for the reason that they just don't see me. I can't even blame the magic, because it started before that."
"Maybe not everyone is cut out to be a parent," he offered.
"Maybe."
They fell silent again, each of them mulling over their own thoughts. Harry wanted to do anything to make her feel better, and Hermione just wanted to do anything not to feel like this anymore. Both of them would probably be unsuccessful.
"Granger?"
Her eyes met his.
"Everything is going to be all right," he said slowly, strongly. "You'll see."
"How can you be so sure?"
"I'm not."
She shook her head. "Then how am I supposed to believe you?"
"Who else are you going to believe?"
Her eyes narrowed for a moment, before she rewarded him with a small smile. "One of us has to be the optimist, I suppose."
"I'm not an optimist," he said.
"Then what are you?"
"I like to think of myself as a realist, to be perfectly honest."
"And your realism is telling you that everything is going to be all right?"
Harry didn't need to see her face to know she was skeptical - he could practically hear it in her tone of voice. "No," he said seriously, his hand reaching for hers. "My realism is telling me that it's okay to believe."
It was weird for all of them after the breakup.
Ginny ended up requiring more of Hermione's attention and the brunette was always needed to break the tension between Jack and Ginny during meals. Ron's comedic relief just wasn't enough when it came to the two of them. They were both hotheads and, now that Jack had one less person around to keep him grounded; things were bound to happen.
Because of Hermione's position between her two friends, she didn't have as much time to spend with Harry, or with Luna and Neville, and that was the part she hated the most. It was strange for her. She'd never really missed someone's company as much as she missed Harry's. She didn't even think that she missed her parents as much as she missed him, and he was in the same Castle as her. He was, undoubtedly, her safe place, and she was terrified of relying on him the way that she did. So much so that her fears sometimes paralysed her.
He told her of his nightmares, but she'd never told him of hers. Nightmares that included his realising whatever her parents had, and leaving her as well. It was always a surprise whenever his face lit up when he spotted her, or whenever he actively made plans to spend time with her. He wasn't with her because of some shared trauma, or by some misplaced guilt. He was with her because he wanted to be.
But now that Jack and Ginny were no longer together, she couldn't ignore her very real fear that her time with Harry was over. She got antsy every time that he spoke about Ginny, or even whenever he looked at her. She hated that she was so insecure about it but she was powerless to stop what she felt. To anyone who knew even a bit about either of them; it was clear that they were better suited for each other than she and Harry were.
She felt it every time he mentioned something about Quidditch or when he talked about a bit of Wizarding popular culture that she just didn't understand. Her mind always told her that Ginny would have understood, and it was debilitating. She didn't want to be thinking this way, but she couldn't help it. It was only a matter of time, and she was sorely tempted to end it with him before he ever got the chance to. Her anxiety over it all was threatening to ruin them both.
But then he would look at her with something like fascination in his eyes, and she wanted to berate herself for ever thinking that he no longer wanted her. It was a vicious cycle of twisting emotions, and she recognised the moment that Harry first noticed her constant fight to stop herself from pulling away from him.
Both his gaze and his touch started to linger, as if he could somehow convey to her that he wasn't going anywhere without having to say the words in answer to her unspoken worries. He didn't have to ask. The boy just knew. He was so gentle and so attentive; it was sometimes heartbreaking. How could she have gone her entire life without being with him like this? How could anyone?
And maybe that was it. He was too good to be true, and Hermione definitely wasn't that lucky.
Hermione didn't want to be the person who worried like this but she couldn't help it, which was the main reason why she decided that she needed to talk to him about it. They could talk to each other. That, at least, was one thing she could be assured of: she and Harry could talk about nearly everything. Nearly.
"What?" Harry asked, sensing her hesitation when she got his attention. He stood up from the table in the library and shuffled around it to stand in front of her. The library was empty enough that their movements and conversation were going unnoticed - well, as unnoticed as Harry Potter and Hermione Granger could go. "Granger, what's wrong?"
Her gaze dropped down to her hands in front of her.
"Look, if you're worried about your marks for the Ancient Runes assignment; I already told you that you have nothing to worry about," he said, trying to coax her into talking to him. "I reckon you'll get a hundred and fifty percent."
"It's not that," she said softly. "But thanks for saying that."
He stepped closer to her, lifting her chin with his forefinger so she would look at him. "It's okay to need me, you know?"
She frowned slightly. "Hmm?"
"I'm your boyfriend, Granger. You can ask me to do things for you. You're allowed to need me. I promise I won't let you down. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere, all right?"
She blinked. "Harry?"
"You can need Neville and Luna too; even my mum and Sirius," he assured her. "I know that you're fiercely independent but you're important to us and you have to know that we'd do anything for you. So it's okay to need us."
Despite herself, Hermione started to cry and, if he were to ask, she probably wouldn't be able to tell him why. What on earth was wrong with her?
After slight panic on Harry's part, he pulled her into a tight hug. Tight enough to hurt, and she even squeaked to get out of his embrace. "What's going on?" he asked, wiping a tear off her cheek with the pad of his thumb. "Talk to me."
"It's stupid."
"Maybe it is," he said; "but tell me anyway."
"It's Ginny," she finally said, starting in what she deemed a safe place. "She's getting even more snarky with me and I think it's because she feels like I'm not spending enough time with her. Which is totally hypocritical of her because, when she was dating Jack, I barely saw her, and do you hear me complaining?"
Harry laughed lightly, drawing her into another, much looser, hug. "I don't blame her though," he admitted. "I was already missing you and I saw you an hour ago."
Hermione had to kiss him, her arms snaking around his neck. An hour really was a long time to miss somebody, wasn't it?
When they broke apart, he was grinning at her like the teenage boy he was.
Hermione wiped his mouth with her fingers. She noticed that she started to do it more often, and she couldn't figure out why. Was she hiding that fact that they kissed as much as they did; merely hiding the evidence? Or did she just want to touch his lips?
Definitely the latter.
"So, what do I do about Ginny?" she asked.
"You should probably spend some time with her," he offered. "Like, dedicate an entire day to just the two of you or something. A girls' day. People still do that, right?"
She kissed him again, quicker this time, but long enough to leave them both in a slight daze.
"Or, I guess, you know, all three of us could hang out."
When Hermione bit at her bottom lip and took a slight step away from him; he immediately knew that he had said something wrong.
"Or," he was quick to add; "if that's too weird, we can invite Luna, maybe Neville, along and make it a group thing. I mean, I just don't want Ginny to think that I'm trying to steal her best friend away from her."
Hermione took another step away from him and took a deep breath. She was clearly preparing herself to ask him an uncomfortable question and Harry couldn't help the tension he suddenly felt in his muscles.
"Harry, umm, you don't still have feelings for Ginny, do you?" she asked softly. "I know, umm, that we're together now, but do I have to be worried if the two of you are ever alone together?"
Harry took his time trying to formulate the right response to this monumental question. Whatever he said, he just knew that it would be relationship defining.
"I like you," he began. "I want to be with you, Hermione Granger. Whatever I liked about Ginny was obviously a misplaced schoolboy crush but you, Granger, are the real thing. We're doing things right, you and me, and I promise that you have nothing to worry about. I am so yours; it's actually disgusting."
She regarded him for a moment, seeing the truth in his eyes. Such expressive eyes. "It is disgusting, isn't it?"
And to mark it off, he pulled her back into his embrace and proceeded to kiss the air right out of her lungs.
Despite Harry's assurances, Hermione couldn't stop herself from feeling like something was wrong. It could have been because the dynamics of her friendships were now altered, but she was sure it was something else. It was a foreboding feeling, as if she could sense that something was coming. Something big.
Now that Jack was 'back on the market,' he was positively intolerable, fawning over the attention he was getting. Hermione mentioned to him that he was showcasing one of his worst qualities, but he didn't seem to care. She absently wondered if he was trying to be self-destructive, acting out because of some other reason, but he didn't respond whenever she asked. She'd almost given up trying to understand him and, really, she thought she was the closest to figuring him out.
Ginny was worse, really, because all she did was complain about all the other fangirls throwing themselves at her ex-boyfriend. It was a mixture of amusing and heartbreaking at the same time, because Ginny looked positively gutted by it all. He was moving on so fast, though she never said it out loud.
What didn't change, though, was the way that Ginny treated Harry. It wasn't always directly to his face, but she did pass remarks that Hermione did not like. Hermione tried to give her time to adjust. That was mainly because she didn't know what a breakup was like, so she tried to allow Ginny the time to settle, hoping that the anger would subside and she would stop channeling Jack - or rather, James - when it came to her view of Harry.
But it went on for a few days, until Hermione just snapped. It was one thing for Jack to hate Harry - for whatever twisted reasons that James had planted into his head - but Ginny had no excuse. None whatsoever. The boy'd been nothing but kind to her.
"Look, Ginny, Harry is very important to me, okay? So I'd really appreciate it if my best friend would quit being such a bitch about him."
Ginny sat back, her mind running away with itself. She was mildly surprised by Hermione's use of language, but she suspected that she'd been pushed to it through Ginny's own actions towards Harry. "Okay."
Hermione hadn't expected that. It was almost too easy, and her frown was immediate. "Okay?"
She nodded. "I guess a part of me was blaming Harry for the falling apart of my relationship with Jack."
Hermione shook her head. "Well, that's just stupid."
Ginny let out a light laugh. A part of her appreciated this Hermione. She was more free, open and happy. Ginny couldn't help the surge of jealousy that she felt. She accepted that it was a natural feeling, given what she'd just gone through with Jack, but she couldn't stop herself from thinking that she wanted some of that happiness for herself.
Jack was the Boy-Who-Lived. Wasn't she supposed to be happy with him? And, if she couldn't be happy with him, who else was there?
"Harry really makes you happy, doesn't he?" Ginny asked.
Hermione couldn't stop her smile. Merely the mention of him made her feel almost giddy. It was borderline embarrassing, perhaps even a little pathetic, but she couldn't help it. In fact, she was almost certain that Harry was the same way. All she'd have to do was ask Luna, and the Ravenclaw would probably enjoy telling her all about it.
Hermione was wary of just how long their perfect little bubble could last. They'd endured Arthur Weasley's attack, but they were still intact. She was a little worried, because it was bound to burst sometime, and just the thought of it gave her anxiety.
"Speak of the Devil," Ginny said, her head drifting past Hermione's face to somewhere behind her. "Someone's trying to get your attention."
Hermione turned her head to spy Harry standing about a metre behind her, looking rather sheepish. Well, he actually looked quite cute, but she wasn't going to say it out loud with Ginny standing right there. "Hey," she said.
He smiled at her. "Ready to go?"
"Sure." Her conversation with Ginny was over anyway. "I just need to run up and grab my bag. Give me a minute." She barely gave him time to respond before she was shooting up the stairs to her dormitory.
Harry could only watch in amusement and fascination. It took him a moment to notice that Ginny was giving him a curious look. "Is everything okay?" he asked.
She nodded. "Just looking out for my friend."
There were so many things that he could have said to her, but he wasn't in the mood for it. He already knew all he needed to about his own relationship with Hermione. Ginny's relationship with Hermione was her own problem. So he settled for something else; something that he felt he had to say.
"What is it that you want to know then, Ginny?" he asked, and stopped himself from asking why she was so interested now, when the Jack Potter sized distraction wasn't in front of her anymore.
"Are you for real, Potter?"
He raised his eyebrows. Really, why was she asking him this now? He nodded anyway. "I barely even knew her last year, and now I can't imagine life without her. She's - she's very important to me."
"She better be, Bla - uh, Potter," Ginny said, stumbling over her words. "I'd hate to think that you broke the system for nothing."
He raised an eyebrow. "I didn't do this for Granger, you know?"
"Sure you didn't."
"I didn't," he tried to tell her.
"Then for whom? Because no boy would go to all this trouble if there wasn't a girl involved."
Harry took a moment, trying to figure out what it was about Ginny that he ever truly found attractive. Perhaps it was the fact that she'd been so mysterious and somewhat untouchable. But now that he was actually getting to know her, he couldn't see it anymore. She'd never shine as bright as Hermione Granger in his eyes.
"You're right about that, at least," he said; "but wrong about the girl."
"Who then?"
"I think you've met her. Her name's Lily Evans; and she's my mum."