AN: I struggled getting this chapter out. There was a difficult decision that I had to make. Be kind. I promise I'll fix it.
Chapter Twelve: Ugly Truth
Hermione wouldn't say that Ginny was ever fully on board when it came to her relationship with Harry, but she appreciated the fact that the redhead seemed to be trying, now more than before. Ginny was definitely getting more involved in Hermione's life, and so Harry's. She even went so far as to offer to help him practice his Keeping, which was a bit of a relief to Hermione, because that meant that Harry could stop asking her.
He didn't, though. Hermione suspected that he enjoyed getting under her skin about her avoidance of flying. She called it an avoidance, and he called it a fear. He was wrong. He kept threatening to kidnap her and take her out on his broom. And she threatened him with bodily harm right back, which always made him smile a little too much. He was such a little pervert sometimes.
"One of these days, I'm going to take you for a flight, and you're going to love it," Harry said, nudging her slightly, as they sat side by side at their table in the library. Luna and Neville were working in the Astronomy Tower, and Harry was using their alone time to his full advantage.
"I doubt that," she said, refusing to look at him. He got way too much satisfaction out of distracting her. He was as diligent as she was but, when he was in a distracting mood; that was it. Hermione found it endearing. Sometimes, at least.
"Some day?" he asked.
"I'll consider it," she said, appeasing him. "It's not you, if you're thinking that."
"I don't think that," he replied seriously, his amusement falling away. "But I'm all for confronting fears and all that, Granger. I'd want you to feel safe enough to confront this one when you're with me."
She regarded him for a moment, trying and failing to keep a straight face. She couldn't, and her face broke out in a wide smile. "You truly are very special, Mr Potter."
He returned her smile. "I like to think so."
She leaned towards him and kissed him. She intended for it to be a quick one, but her subconscious mind had other ideas, and Harry definitely wasn't complaining. She'd never really loved the library as much as she'd learned to, now that she had memories of kissing Harry attached to it.
"You're going to get me into trouble," she eventually said, pulling away from him and taking a deep breath. "I was a good girl before I met you."
He raised an eyebrow in her direction. "Oh, Granger, you and I both know that you were never a 'good girl.'" He leaned back. "I've heard the stories, you know. What's this I hear about you brewing Polyjuice Potion in our second year?"
Hermione couldn't figure out how he could have ever found out about that, but she still blushed. "It was for a good cause," she countered.
"Somehow, I doubt that, but I'll let you believe it."
She reached for his forearm, and gave it a slight squeeze. Really, she just wanted to touch him; to make sure he was really there. Even though they didn't actively talk about her time with her parents; the truth of the Austria trip still hung in the air. If anything, she felt as if she'd taken a step forward, and then at least three steps back. Or more. Who knew?
This thing she was doing with Harry was dangerous. It was easier keeping him at an arm's length. It was better, making sure she did that with anyone new in her life. It wouldn't hurt as much when they left, because people always leave, right?
But this boy was worming his way into her heart, sliding through all her defences, and she was powerless to stop it. Did she even want to?
There was a fear sitting in the back of her mind though. There'd been fangirls before, but now girls were starting to notice him; starting to see the gentle soul, the caring heart that nobody noticed before he stood up to be counted. It was terrifying for her, knowing that, if he were to go looking; he could easily find someone better than her. Or, at the very least, someone who wasn't so afraid of feeling all these things for him.
Harry checked his watch. "Uh, I better get going," he said. "Don't want to be late meeting Mum and Sirius."
"Did they say anything about what they want to talk to you about?" she asked him, removing her hand from his forearm and immediately missing the contact.
She was going to spend the next few hours alone in the library, and there was a part of her that was looking forward to it. Getting down to her work and losing herself in her books was always something that she enjoyed.
Harry respected that. He even encouraged it sometimes.
He shrugged. "Just that I have to meet them at the Hogwarts Gates at five o'clock," he said. "They're taking me to dinner apparently."
"Do you know where?"
He raised his eyebrows. "Do you want me to bring something back for you, Granger? All you have to do is ask."
She punched his arm. "I'm just asking if you're going to be leaving Hogsmeade," she said. "Will you be gone a long time?"
"Granger?"
She couldn't help her blush. "It's just that, well, your bed's really comfortable."
He laughed. "That it is," he agreed. "And how exactly do you know that?"
She punched his arm again. "I've caught naps there, you know?"
"I know," he said, rubbing his arm. "And that hurts, by the way," he grumbled; "stop punching me."
She folded her arms across her chest.
"And I quite like it when you sleep in my bed."
Cue the blush.
Harry started to pack up his books and his writing utensils. He wasn't in a rush, which he suspected was to do with Hermione. She'd been a little preoccupied ever since they returned to school. He knew that a part of it was to do with her parent, but there was another part that was to do with Jack and Ginny, or just the fact that things were so different now.
Hermione didn't like change, at all.
"Will you take my bag up to my room then?" he asked. "Seeing as I'm going to find you in my bed when I get back."
"You should be so lucky."
Harry kept his eyes on her. He had the urge to tell her how he felt about her, but her eyes dropped down to her work and the moment past. "Granger?"
She looked at him. "Hmm?"
"I'm going to go now."
She leaned into him to kiss him quickly. "Be good, all right?"
"I'll see you later?"
A kiss and a stumble later, he was gone. Hermione watched as he disappeared from sight. For a moment, Hermione wanted to go after him, but she stayed put. What was wrong with her? It was only a couple of hours that he would be out of the Castle. What could possibly go wrong?
Hermione spent those next few hours working on Arithmancy, using the lack of distractions to good effect. Okay, she wouldn't exactly call Harry a distraction, but he did cause her mind to drift more often than not. It wasn't his fault, not really, but that didn't stop her from blaming him in her own head.
When it was time, Hermione packed up her things, grabbed both their bags and made her way to the Great Hall for dinner. She was late enough that she missed everyone who was anyone to her. That was okay. She wasn't really feeling up to conversation anyway. Her friends were acting weird. It wasn't just to do with the breakup, or even to do with the new hostility; it was something else.
A part of her was convinced it was to do with Harry. He was, after all, part of the reason Jack and Ginny ended, wasn't he? As twisted as that was. The mere fact that her relationship with him was as great as it was merely highlighted the cracks in Jack and Ginny's relationship. So Hermione was worried, though she couldn't quite pinpoint the true reason why.
Hermione ate quickly, and then she was on her way to Gryffindor Tower. There were people in the Common Room, but she bypassed them all. It wasn't anything strange to see her head up to the boys' dormitories, so nobody paid her any attention.
Save for two people, who were both burning with misplaced jealousy.
Hermione strode into the dormitory with the confidence of someone who knew it well, and headed straight towards Harry's bed. She set their things down, and made herself comfortable. She would be there a while.
As expected, when Harry got back to his dormitory, Hermione was still lying in his bed, curled up under his duvet. Her eyes were closed but he could tell that she wasn't asleep. This was a habit she'd developed lately and, as much as Harry loved it; Jack and Ron vehemently didn't.
Harry thought that, if she weren't their friend; they might have reported her to Professor McGonagall. His girlfriend was such a rule-breaker when she wanted to be. Though, she made it perfectly clear to them all that she was, in fact, not breaking any rules.
"Granger?" he whispered, climbing in behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist. He pulled her in close to him and buried his face in her hair, absently breathing her in.
"I would be really mad if I were sleeping," she said, giggling softly.
"No you wouldn't," he said, laughing lightly. "You missed me."
"Maybe, maybe not."
He sighed contently. "Don't you want to know what my mum and Sirius wanted to talk to me about?"
"I already know."
He placed a kiss on her neck. "Is that so?"
"It is."
"Tell me then."
"They're finally giving it a try then, aren't they? Being together? Your mum and Sirius?"
Harry sighed again. "I bet you feel pretty smug about it right now, don't you?"
"Oh, definitely," she said playfully, before her tone turned serious. "How do you feel about it? Are you all right?"
"I'm great," he said. "It might be a little weird, right? But I'm relieved, and I'm happy for them." He nuzzled his nose against her cheek. "If they can experience even half of how happy I feel when I'm with you, then, you know, I'm all for it."
Hermione relaxed into him. "I should probably get out of your bed, shouldn't I?"
"It'd be best," he said tiredly. "But I don't really want you to."
She sighed heavily. "That's not what you're supposed to say."
"What am I supposed to say?"
"Tell me to get out of your bed."
"Not physically possible."
Hermione opened her eyes for a moment. "Do you have practice tonight?"
He let out a relieved breath. "I don't, for the first time this week," he said. "Angelina is hell-spent on winning this match, Granger. If she had it her way, I'm sure that she'd have us practice on Valentine's Day."
Hermione let out a groan. "Please tell me that you don't have some extravagant thing planned for us," she said. "Because, you know, I might just hit you."
"Oh, I just love it when you threaten to touch me," he sing-songed.
She couldn't help her laugh. "What am I ever going to do with you?"
"I could think of a few things," he said in a whisper, his hands sliding up the sides of her body, and Hermione couldn't help her shiver.
Eventually, she shifted out of his hold and sat up. "Someone is feeling a little frisky tonight," she observed. "Is there a specific reason?"
Harry also sat up, looking a little embarrassed. "Do you not like it?" he asked quietly, unable to meet her gaze.
"Harry?"
He sighed. "It's been brought to my attention that I might be, how you say, lacking."
Her eyes widened. "Who said that?"
He pressed his lips together.
"Was it Sirius?" she asked, and his silence was more than enough of an answer for her. "Because you know that he's just messing with you, Harry."
He blinked innocently. "So you don't think I'm, uh, lacking?"
"Of course not," she said quickly. "I think you're perfect, and I think our physical relationship is progressing at a reasonable rate." She smiled at him. "I like the kissing, and I like the cuddling. But, most importantly, I like you. Just the way you are, okay?"
He just about managed to return her smile. "I like you too, Hermione."
There he went again, drawing her in with her first name. It always sounded different when he said it, as if it were something special. His use of it usually came around the same time that they kissed, and this time was no different. Behind Harry's curtains and under his duvet, Harry rolled onto Hermione and kissed her for all she was worth. Her fingers played with his hair, holding him close and telling him that she liked him for him without having to say the words.
Sirius Black was an idiot.
"Are we going somewhere?"
"I don't know; are we?"
Hermione Granger awarded Harry with an unimpressed glare, and the boy just laughed. "I swear, Potter, if you did plan something extravagant, I'm going back to the library."
"Your sense of occasion is pitiful," he said, rolling his eyes. "Don't you want romance?"
"Of course I want romance, Harry," she said, rolling her eyes; "but why should there be one specific day for it?"
"Oh, I see," he said, putting an arm around her shoulders. "My girlfriend's a cynic."
"Am not."
He kissed her cheek. "It's okay that you are," he assured her, his voice taking on a serious tone.
Hermione turned her head to look at him as they walked side-by-side in the corridor, headed to whatever destination the boy had cooked up. "It's not about my parents," she said quietly. "At least, I don't think it is."
He waited in silence for her to continue, realising that she was turning his light-hearted teasing into something serious.
"I mean, I guess they love each other," she said; "though they've never been affectionate in front of me. In fact, they're quite robotic, and they never touch. I don't think that they even look at each other when they talk. It's honestly the weirdest thing."
Harry didn't think it was that weird. He was quite sure that he viewed the same thing with James and his wife. He was sure that, if Hermione were to look at that relationship close enough; she would see the same thing. But that wasn't Harry's concern. His girlfriend was.
"Hey," he said, coming to stop and tugging on her hand. "Let's not think about this today, okay?" he said, grinning at her. "It's Valentine's Day, and I just, I want you to think about only me."
Hermione laughed out loud. "You're one special kid, you know that," she whispered, pulling him nice and close and kissing his cheek. "And all I really do is think about you, Mr Potter. It's a problem."
"Is it really?"
She kissed him on the mouth. It was a problem, but she wasn't going to tell him that. "Okay, now tell me where we're going."
"If I don't, will you keep kissing me?"
"Fat chance," she huffed. "Tell me."
"Patience, Granger." He started to walk again, his hand keeping hold of hers as he led the way through the corridors. He absently rubbed the pad of his thumb over the back of her hand. It truly was the little things with this one.
The entire day had been perfect in ways that she wouldn't be able to put into words. She'd witnessed other couples make extravagant declarations during the day, but it was the understated way that Harry's taken hold of her hand and kissed her knuckles that morning that did her in. His eyes, burning with something she didn't recognise, as he looked at her.
People had looked, expecting something. But Harry didn't make a scene, though he looked mischievous. Hermione knew she was in for it.
"Harry?" she asked after a while.
"Hmm?"
"I wanted to say thank you," she said; "for today."
He glanced at her, frowning slightly. "What are you talking about? I didn't do anything today."
"That's why I'm saying thank you," she said. "I suspect it was difficult for you not to go all Mosstrooper on me."
He let out a light laugh. "It wasn't all that difficult, Granger," he told her. "My girlfriend doesn't like the attention, and I definitely wasn't going to be the one to make her uncomfortable on this day of all days." He winked at her. "But all bets are off tomorrow, you hear?"
Her eyes were shining. "I do."
"As long as you know."
"I definitely do."
Harry didn't say anything more as they continued on their way to their destination.
When they finally reached it, she looked at him with wide eyes. "The Astronomy Tower?" Hermione asked. "How did you manage that? There must be like a hundred couples up there."
He grinned mischievously at her. "Is that so?"
She eyed him. "Potter, what did you do?"
"I'll have you know that I've been planning this for a while, Granger," he admitted. "I've accounted for everything. You have nothing to worry about."
Hermione wasn't worried. She was safe with him, she knew, though she didn't say it out loud. That would give voice to a feeling she was still trying to wrap her head around. This was a boy who you trusted. This was a boy who you had no choice but to allow yourself to love, and she was terrified of it. Deathly.
Which was probably the reason that she wasn't yet giving in to it. She wouldn't. It would hurt too much when he finally wised up and moved on from her.
Harry took out his wand, mumbled a quick spell and then opened the door. The moment Hermione stepped through, music started to play. Muggle music.
She glanced at him, but he wasn't looking at her. She could tell that he was smiling, even looking rather chuffed with himself, and she squeezed his hand in silent response. She could already feel herself falling deeper and deeper into -
Something.
When they reached the top of the Tower, Hermione's breath caught in her throat and tears sprung to her eyes. "Harry," she whispered. "What is this?"
He released her hand and strode forward. "It's not too much, is it?" he asked innocently.
She shook her head, dumbfounded. It most definitely was not too much. "It's perfect," she whispered.
He grinned at her, looking relieved. "Are you sure?"
Hermione didn't respond, as she took in the sight before her. The entire top deck was completely decked out, and Hermione's breath was staying stuck in her throat. There were small orbs of light floating in the air, casting a dim glow over the space. Near the edge, overlooking the lake and basking in the moonlight, was a picnic blanket, endless cushions and more rose petals than she could even fathom.
"Because, if you're not," Harry continued; "I should tell you that there's food. And I'm well aware that we've already had supper, but I did tell you not to eat too much because I had something planned. But, I mean, it's more like snacks, so not really food, but then - "
"Harry," she cut him off.
He looked at her rather sheepishly. "Yes, dear?"
"It's perfect."
He held out his hand, a small smile dancing across his face. "Come. Sit with me."
Hermione didn't even hesitate, before she was running towards him, and flinging her arms around his neck. Harry lifted her up off the ground and spun them once, twice, before he stumbled and they collapsed on the cushions in a heap of laughter. Before he could even recover, Hermione rolled onto him and kissed him senseless, her hands turning him to complete putty beneath her.
"Granger," he eventually said, shivering slightly - an immeasurable amount of time later. "Don't you want strawberries?"
She just took a breath.
"I promise they're sweeter than I am."
"I doubt that."
Harry let out a laugh, and gently pushed on her shoulders. He blinked at the sight of her, hair dishevelled, lips red and swollen, and blouse unbuttoned. Hah. When did that happen? He blushed a deep red.
Hermione took her time sitting up and looked at him. "Oh, don't get all self-conscious now, Potter," she said, placing a hand on his chest. His bare chest. Merlin, when did that happen? "Okay then, feed me, if you must."
Harry took a deep breath, before he did just that. They spent an obscene amount of time out there, feeding each other under the stars and enjoying each other's company. Hermione kissed him every chance she could, tasting all the lovely food on his lips and in his mouth. This had to be the best day she'd had in such a long time.
"I have something for you," Hermione said, getting his attention.
His eyes widened. "Granger, you know you didn't have to."
"I know." She reached into her discarded robes and retrieved an envelope, which she handed to Harry without saying a word. She watched him carefully, as he opened the card she'd made. It was a little childish, even cliche, but she did add a little magic to it.
The card's front was a moving picture of the both of them that Colin Creevey took after one of Harry's Quidditch practices. Hermione loved the picture because, despite how exhausted he appeared in the picture; the second that he spotted her, her favourite grin took over his face. Every time she doubted herself in this relationship, she could look at that picture, and she'd know.
This boy was hers.
Harry's eyes softened as he looked at the picture. And then his face broke out in that same smile.
Hermione's heart stuttered. He was so special. Truly, he was.
Harry opened the card and his grin merely widened. His eyes were shining when he looked at her. "Of course, Granger," he said, launching himself at her. "Of course I'll be your Valentine."
She let out a squeak when he landed on her.
"I'm yours," he whispered, before he kissed her.
They didn't do much talking after that.
When they did eventually pull apart to catch their breaths, Harry felt the most content he had in a very long time. They settled in side by side, his arms coming around her and holding her close against him.
"Harry?" Hermione whispered after a long silence filled with their slowly-steadying breathing.
"Hmm?" He didn't bother to open his eyes. He was just too comfortable, lying there with his favourite person in his arms.
"Can I ask you a serious question?"
He smiled automatically. "I already told you that I wear briefs, Granger."
She giggled lightly, her breath warm against his bare chest. "I've been wondering about this for a while."
"What is it?"
She steeled herself. "Uh, well, I've always wondered, you know, why did you allow Jack to keep his position on the Quidditch team?"
Harry opened his eyes. "What do you want to know?"
"Why?"
He let out a long breath. "I get angry sometimes," he began. "Like, irrationally so, and I want to lash out. I want to hurt someone. It's a trait I don't like about myself, but I sometimes just can't get over how unfair the world is. This world that I've been born into." He shifted slightly, tightening his arms around her. "I wanted to hurt him," he admitted, referring to Jack. "I mean, I wanted on the team for myself, sure, but I wanted him to hurt. I think I would have enjoyed it, just for him to feel what it's like to be me; just for a little while. But then I stopped to think about it. That side of me, that hatred part, all that anger; that's James in me.
"That's his trying to manifest himself in me, and I won't allow it. I won't be like him, Granger. I can't. I don't - it's the last thing I want. So, yeah, I can do things back to Jack, and I can hurt him like he's hurt me, but I won't. I don't want to turn into James. I won't let it happen to me the way it's clearly happened to Jack." He fell silent for a moment. "Really, it's actually my biggest fear."
Hermione placed a gentle kiss against his skin. "You're nothing like James."
"I realised that, for him to be who he is, he must have so much anger, and so much regret inside of him," Harry continued. "Because of the way he is; he can't possibly love himself, and that's just sad."
"You don't have that problem," she stated.
"No, I don't," he said seriously. "If I can get one thing from James; it's how not to act. I sometimes think that, you know? 'What would James do?' and then I do the complete opposite. It seems to be working out well for me."
"Do you ever think there will be a day when it doesn't work?"
"Probably," he confessed. "I just hope it isn't any time soon."
Hermione kissed his skin again, peppering kisses across his chest and then up towards his neck. Her fingers were dancing along his back, making it difficult for him to breathe steadily. Not that he was complaining; not at all. Today had to be one of the best days of his life, and it was all because of Hermione Granger.
When her lips finally met his, she was forced to acknowledge that her boy really could do romance.
"Harry?"
"Hmm?"
"Can I tell you a secret?"
He let out a content sigh when she pressed a kiss to his pulse point. "You know that you can tell me anything."
Hermione propped herself up on her elbow so she could look at him. She wanted to see his face. His eyes. "Harry?"
He opened his eyes.
"You make me very happy," she whispered, as if it really were a secret. "I'm, uh, I'm terrified of it though. You scare me a little."
On any other day, with any other person; Harry might have made a joke, but he didn't. Not today, and not this person. This was clearly something very serious to her.
"Okay, you scare me a lot."
"I'm sorry," he said softly, smiling slightly.
She smiled at him. "Thank you for today."
"No, thank you for today," he returned, wagging his eyebrows.
Hermione blushed. "All I did was take off your shirt," she clarified.
"Um, I believe you clawed at my shirt," he said defiantly, even though his memory of it was rather hazy. "Somebody wanted access to some skin."
She only turned redder, and he loved her for it. "Is that a complaint I hear, Mr Potter?"
"No," he said quickly, tugging on a strand of her hair. "Never."
"Good."
He grinned at her. "Come here."
She went. Gladly.
As expected, Gryffindor defeated Hufflepuff.
In fact, they annihilated them; wiped them off the map; ended their fledgling careers. It was an embarrassment of note and, really, it was one of the easiest games Harry would ever play in. They'd scored once against him, and that was only because he'd felt sorry for them. And he'd been hit square in his left fourth rib by a bludger that came from Merlin only knows where.
To say that the Gryffindors were going to celebrate as if they'd won the World Cup would be a gross understatement. It was a record-breaking win that they were never going to pass up. Even Harry was invited into the festivities, and declining would have been too much of a hassle. He stayed for almost half an hour before he excused himself, saying that he wanted to shower and change. Nobody could begrudge him the opportunity to get out of his sweaty uniform.
A uniform that various girls eyed rather appreciatively.
Harry first searched for Hermione, who was sitting with Fay and Eloise, two of the more quiet fifth-year Gryffindor girls. Harry wasn't surprised to find her with them, mainly because she didn't get on all that well with her other two roommates, Lavender and Parvati. It was one of the reasons that her girl best friend was in a lower grade.
"Are you heading up?" Hermione asked, as soon as she spotted him moving towards her.
"Just a shower and a change," he said in response. "I'll see how I feel after."
"I'll maybe come up later," she offered, as he bent down to kiss her cheek. It was a lingering one, silently thanking her for the day; for her support and for coming to wish him luck before he took to the field. She'd actually come with Ginny, which got awkward really quickly, particularly when Jack joined the mix. It'd been weird.
Their eyes met before he stood up, and she gave him a questioning look, practically daring him to do something more.
He was smiling before he kissed her quickly on the lips, which earned him a catcall from Seamus Finnegan. Harry paid him no mind, his eyes solely on Hermione Granger, which was a truth not lost on any of the girls within distance. It even made some of them swoon.
Rumours had floated around about what Harry did for Hermione on Valentine's Day, and Hermione was now the subject of a considerable amount of jealousy that she didn't seem to notice. It was slowly - or rapidly - occurring to several of the girls that Harry Potter was quite the catch, and Hermione Granger was one lucky girl.
Really, with Harry now so openly in the limelight, the contrast between Jack and Harry was blatant for those looking, to see. Jack hadn't ever treated Ginny the way that Harry treated Hermione.
Harry kissed her once more, and then he made his escape from the Common Room and headed up to his dormitory. He took his time in the bathroom, using the stream of water from the shower to soothe the tension in his muscles. Despite the ease of the win; it'd been a hard game for him. His mother hadn't come, but Sirius had. His hair - or lack thereof - didn't go unnoticed by those who hadn't seen him in a while.
Or lived under a rock, like Harry sometimes wanted to. Lord Black's haircut had made the news for a full week when he chopped it all off.
When Harry finished with his shower, he got dressed into his Muggle clothing, and then made his way back to his dormitory. He half-expected to find Hermione in his bed, but what he walked into was really surprising. Even a little terrifying.
Ginny Weasley was sitting on the edge of his bed, clearly waiting for him. For whatever reason.
"Uh," Harry stuttered, holding his toiletries up to his chest. What was she doing here? What did she want? "Is everything okay?" he asked. "Where's Granger?"
"Downstairs."
He blinked. "Is there something you need?"
For a moment, Ginny said nothing. Then she stood up and walked towards him. "I wanted to ask you something," she said.
He fought the urge to back away. He didn't even want to think about what his girlfriend would think if she were to walk in right now. "What?"
"It's a little embarrassing," she said, dropping her gaze for a moment.
"Um, okay."
"It's just, well, I've been thinking, and I got to wondering..." she paused, and Harry raised an eyebrow expectantly. "Why her?"
He frowned. "What?"
"Why Hermione?"
That made him take a step back. "Excuse me?"
"It's just that I'm just curious, you see. You do all this amazing stuff for her, and I just don't get it. I mean, she told me all about Valentine's Day, you know, and all these other things that you do... so I just don't get it. I don't."
Harry was starting to feel supremely uncomfortable. "What exactly are you trying to ask me, Ginny?"
"There are countless other girls in this school, Harry, so why would you pick Hermione?" she blatantly asked.
Harry'd understood her the first time she asked the question: 'why her' but he didn't want to believe it. Merlin, how were they ever going to move past this, even if Harry could convince himself that he wanted to?
"I'm not going to dignify that question with a response," he said curtly.
"I mean, it isn't as if I didn't see you staring at me," she continued, as if he hadn't even spoken. "So, I just don't understand, and I need you to tell me."
"I think you should leave."
Ginny just stared at him for a moment, before she stepped towards him and pressed her lips to his. It was a shock to Harry and, for a moment, he did nothing. It was a moment too long because, by the time his brain started to function again; Ginny Weasley was decided.
Harry pulled back suddenly. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he asked, hurriedly wiping at his mouth.
She narrowed her eyes. "I just thought - "
"You thought wrong," he said, cutting her off and stepping back. "I mean, what are you doing? You're Hermione's best friend."
"And you're her boyfriend," she countered.
"So then why did you kiss me?" he demanded. What the hell was going on here?
"Why do you think?"
What did he think? Truthfully, in this moment, he wasn't sure what to think.
"I think you should leave," he said again, taking another step back. He was halfway to panicking right now, and he couldn't let Ginny see. Merlin, what on earth was he going to tell Hermione? Was he supposed to?
Ginny just tilted her head to the side, watching him curiously.
"Leave, Weasley," he said through gritted teeth, his voice more stern. "Get out. Now."
She gave him one last look before she turned on her heel and left the room, leaving Harry in his own panic. Ginny just kissed him. His girlfriend's best friend just kissed him, and he had no idea what he was supposed to do now?
Did he tell Hermione? Would she even believe him? She was already worried as it was - apparently rightfully so, with friends like those - so what would this do to her now? What did it even mean? What was the redhead thinking?
If he were truly being critical, he thought that Ginny was wearing something like rose-coloured glasses when it came to him, and she was just seeing everything that Jack wasn't. It was no secret that the two of them had problems when they were together and now, almost two months after their breakup; she was desperate for something.
He didn't think that she actually cared about him. She just wanted to be treated better, but this was not the way to go about it. He was and would always belong to Hermione Granger. Everyone knew that. Particularly Ginny.
So Harry eventually reasoned that avoiding Ginny was the thing to do. At least for the time being. He'd already come up with a few ways to avoid having to spend time with her when Hermione first mentioned her worries, and he naively hoped that maybe they could move past all of this without Hermione ever having to find out.
He should have known better.
Ginny would never leave it at that. And, it just never occurred to him that she would enlist the help of Hermione's two other best friends in her schemes.
Hermione guessed that there was something bothering her boyfriend almost immediately. He could barely look her in the eyes, and he always felt quite tense whenever they were together. She'd also caught him a few times opening his mouth to say something, and then immediately snapping it shut, as if he suddenly thought better of whatever he was going to say.
She could only guess at what was on his mind, because he refused to talk about it whenever she questioned him about it. It was worrying, and she started to think that she'd done something wrong. But what, she didn't know. What had gone so wrong?
It wasn't lost on her that girls looked at her boyfriend, but he hadn't looked back ever. He'd been so amused by it in the beginning, and now his eyes were always on her. Until now, that is. Now he kept his eyes down, as if she could somehow see in his eyes the truth that he was so desperately trying to hide.
Hermione was scarily tempted to demand the truth of him. This wasn't who they were, and she shuddered to think about the reason he was shutting her out. Something had happened.
But he'd made it clear to her that she could talk to him about anything, and she just had to know.
"Harry?"
He looked up from his Potions' essay. "Hmm?"
"Is there something you want to tell me?" she asked.
He sighed heavily, seemingly given in to his avoidance. "Yes."
"Are you going to?"
"I still haven't decided."
She dropped her gaze. "Is it bad?"
"In a way, yes."
"Is it going to change things?"
"Definitely."
She pressed her lips together, pondering his words. Then: "Then maybe don't tell me."
His eyes snapped towards her. "What?"
"Don't tell me."
He blinked. "Are you sure?"
She shook her head. "Definitely not."
"I'm sorry," he said with a sigh. He truly was; she could see it in his features, in his body, and in his eyes now that he was looking at her.
She shook her head again. "What's going on, Harry?"
He took a deep breath. "Something happened, Granger," he said tiredly. "Something big, and I want to tell you, but I don't know if you'll believe me."
She blinked. What was she supposed to say to that?
"It'll change things, and I don't - " he stopped. "I just - "
Hermione looked at him, searching his eyes for whatever truth he was trying not to tell her. It looked big. It looked monumental, and it was terrifying. Which was part of the reason why she said her next words.
"Don't tell me," she told him seriously. "I don't want to know."
He let out a shaky breath. "I'm sorry," he said again. "I'm so sorry, Granger."
She couldn't help the sudden rush of fear that she felt. As much as she wanted to avoid whatever was bothering him; she was certain that it would come back to bite her. And it was going to hurt. It was inevitable. Was this it then? Were they already reaching the end?
It took Harry some time to come back to her. She noticed the moment that he put whatever was initially on his mind to the side and returned his focus to her, and his work, and his friends.
Despite it, the idea that there was something he was hiding sat on the back of her brain and, like him, she wanted to ignore it. She needed to ignore it. There'd been a change in his behaviour, and she was present enough to notice that it had something to do with Ginny, whatever it was.
Because the redhead was also acting strange. Well, stranger than usual. Hermione wanted to think that they'd fought about something, because they didn't actually get along. Only, this felt like more.
Whatever it was that happened, Harry's return to her lasted only a few days.
Because then he was gone again. Somewhere else, and it was as if the caring boy that she was falling for just disappeared, and his body remained. It was odd, and getting him to focus was difficult.
The problem was that it was a hectic week of school, which made everyone cranky, and it wasn't entirely inconceivable for Harry to be distant. Whenever Hermione asked Luna about it; she told her that Harry did sometimes go into hiding. He reverted back to the way he was before they all became friends, and it was a little heartbreaking to think of the little eleven-year-old Harry hiding himself away as he navigated his first year of Hogwarts.
Hermione was too busy and too stressed to worry about it until the moment that she received the shock of her life - that wasn't actually that big of a shock.
If anything, she was dangerously resigned about it all. Everyone else had failed her before. Why should Harry Potter be any different? Why should anyone?
On that day, she'd gone looking for Harry after class let out. She wanted to see him. She wanted to talk to him; to talk to her Harry. Only, he wasn't to be found. Not in the library, not in his room, not in the Common Room and not in the Astronomy Tower.
Wherever he was, he didn't want to be found.
Eventually ending her search, Hermione retreated to the Common Room, letting out a defeated sigh. She was tired, and irritated, and she just wanted to talk to her boyfriend. Or her best friend.
But Harry was her best friend, wasn't he? He'd unwittingly taken the spot as his own. She'd never told him that, and she couldn't shake the feeling that she now wouldn't be able to. There was something happening; something that Harry was hiding from her.
At her own insistence, no less.
She got the feeling that she was missing something important; something glaring. It was right there for her to see, but she just couldn't grasp it, and it was eating away at her from the inside out.
She let out another tired sigh, her eyes drifting over the occupants of the Common Room. No Harry. No Ginny. Just her two rats.
"What are you two looking at over there?" Hermione asked Jack and Ron, unable to stand the hushed whispers belonging to her two male friends. She was standing over them, contemplating what she was going to do next. She had assignments due that she could probably get started on.
"Nothing," they said in unison, from their position huddled together on a couch.
She raised an eyebrow. "Jack. Ron."
"Where's Harry?" Jack asked.
Hermione frowned. Why was he asking about Harry? "I don't know, Jack," she said in mild annoyance. It was a good question. "I'm not his keeper."
"Aren't you at all curious?" Jack asked.
Hermione swallowed. "Would you just come out say whatever it is you want to say?" she asked. "I'm really not in the mood for whatever games you're playing at right now."
"No games," he said, faking innocence. He held out the Marauders' Map for her to take. "Just look."
Hermione felt uneasy, as she stepped forward to take the Map from him. She was frowning as she looked at the pages. Clearly, there was something that Jack wanted her to see. But what?
Hermione froze when she spotted the very thing that Jack wanted her to see.
Harry Potter. Ginevra Weasley.
Together.
Unmoving.
In a broom closet.