"Finally! At last!" A bubble of relief showered Harry.

"Merlin's pants, no!" A wave of hatred and disgust washed over Hermione.

He finally cornered Hermione.

"Ow, let go of me, you have no right to do so!" Harry let go of Hermione's forearm. She gave him a look of disgust and started to up the stairs. Harry cowered under her glare yet AGAIN. It's been nearly 2 weeks. Harry tried to apologize many times yet she never provided a chance. Whether it's when she ignores him at dinner or switches chores with Ginny when the two are paired together, Hermione seemed to wriggle her way out of sticky situations. Hogwarts is now only a day away. They've already shopped at Diagon Alley and started packing. Tomorrow, they leave for the King's Cross Station. Harry wants to straighten out his apologies before everything turns wired.

Am I going to let this last chance go? Harry thought as he stood, rather stupidly, on Fred and George's landing. NO!

Hermione stopped on Ginny's landing, turned slightly towards Harry, and hesitated.

Without another thought, Harry jumped the stairs 3 at a time and landed next to her in a heartbeat. He grabbed her wrists just as she started to whirl around. She stopped and turned back toward him, her face almost an inch away. Her once sorrowful eyes turned stone cold.

"Hermione please." Harry whispered, his voice cracked.

"No." But she didn't leave.

"I was angry. I still am, I'm angry with myself. If I can take that half a word back, I—"

"Leave it. Your pitiful speech means nothing to me." The moonlight from the window lighted the fire in her eyes. She stared hard into his emerald ones, piercing his heart. She only gives this look to Malfoy when he challenges her. They stayed like that for a minute then she started to turn around.

Hermione implied that Harry's fallen face would have loosened his grip. But, Harry still kept an iron hold.

Without turning, she growled.

"Get you filthy hands off me."

"Hermi—"

"Treat me like a Mudblood and I'll treat you like a Malfoy!" She screeched.

Harry let go as if her wrists were on fire.

"Hermione?"

"You heard me!" She started up the stairs. Harry's surprise quickly melted into anger.

He raced around and slammed her against the wall, locking hands on either sides of her. She narrowed her eyes at him.

"You need to hear me out! Please!"

"Get off of me! Don't you dare touch me!" Hermione struggled and shouted at the same time, ignoring everything Harry said.

"Listen to me—"

"—Aren't you afraid to soil your clothes from touching me? HUH? I bet you're going to take a shower after this, aren't you?—"

"Listen to me. Hang on, WHAT?" He slammed her against the wall again. "Listen to yourself!"

"Argh! So what? Now you'd risk yourself getting dirty and you're taking it out on the wall! You'll only get dirtier from a constant hold of me, you know that right?"

"Hear me out and I'll let you go!"

She ignored him and continued on her frenzied rant.

"Or is that something that Malfoy hasn't taught to you yet?" She let out a cold, un-Hermione like laugh and threw her head back.

"What? Have you two become best friends now? Huh? Is that what's going on? That's why you wouldn't talk to any of us right, when you first came? Of course, I should've known."

"JUST HEAR ME OUT!"

"I SAID NO!"

"Enough is enough, Mione!"

"Don't you call me 'Mione! And get off of me!"

"LISTEN FIRST!"

"NO!"

"HERMIONE—"

"THE GIRL SAID NO!"

Harry and Hermione stopped struggling against the wall and turned their heads. Hermione looked for her savior, Harry looked for their interrupter.

Harry suddenly realized how close the pair of them is, with him pressing her tightly against the wall. Slowly, he backed off.

It was Fred and George, standing tut on the landing of their rooms.

The four of them stood there in an uncomfortable silence, not knowing what to say. It was Hermione who shattered the silence.

"The girl? Best idea you guys came up with?" There was a hint of amusement in her voice. It was a shock to Harry who only heard her cold one recently.

"Look, Harry. " Fred started, looking at him. "I know we're tight—"

"—but we—" George jumped in.

"—we as in the entire household—" Fred added.

" –don't want anyone to get hurt."

"—like physically—"

"—or knocking things down like Mum's old vase collection—"

"She'll definitely blow her cap off on that one!"

"Thanks, Fred, George. I owe you on that one. But I don't need you guys to fight my fights. I'll call you guys anytime but if it's Harry, I can handle it." She smirked at Harry before turning back to the twins.

"Anyway, thank you."

"Anytime, anytime." Fred replied and winked at her.

She blew a kiss at them before glaring at Harry and stalking up the stairs. Wait, did she just do what I thought she did? Harry arched an eyebrow at her walking figure than back at the twins.

No! No way! No, no, no! Not happening! Harry stood there frozen on the stairs as the twins scurried back in their rooms.

That's just totally, absolutely, and in all other wise, inconceivable!

He wanted answers so he did what any boy would do: follow her.

He pounded on her door.

"Hey, we're not finished yet, Hermione! We're not over! This is not—"

She opened the door.

"Jeez…there's absolutely no privacy over here!" She shoved him and ran down the stairs and out the door.

Harry contemplated about following after her. He wanted to talk with her so badly that it almost hurts not to. But he knew with her temper, he'd better let her cool off.

He spent the next half hour staring through his bedroom window at a cross-legged girl sitting in the yard. Was she thinking about him like him vice versa? Was she thinking of the coming school year like Harry? Was she thinking about what happened between them this summer like Harry?

Finally, Hermione stood up and dusted off her bottom from sitting on the ground. Harry perked up. She turned around and gazed through his window, not a glare but a wistful gaze. She suddenly realized she was looking at him and turned back around.

Harry took this chance and clambered down the stairs and out the door to meet her in the cold night air.

At her side, Harry paced slowly with her strides into the grassy fields in silence. She didn't have the usual coldness radiating from her but a comfortable amicable aura like the old times.

"Why?" She asked softly aloud.

He choked on his answer that he planned out so meticulously before. Her voice sounded sad almost regretful. His answer seemed too rough. So he just answered, "I don't know anymore."

She ignored this and kept walking. After a while, Harry looked back and he saw only a silhouette of the Burrow. Hermione's voice rang out into the air again.

"Why? Why me? Why now?"

He kept walking and ignored this question. He suddenly realized that she stopped and turned around.

No one stood there.

He looked up. No silhouette of the Burrow anymore. Wait…what's going on?

"Hermione?"

"Why?" Her ghostly voice rang out into the crisp night air again, echoing hauntingly.

Bloody hell. What happened? What's going on?

"Hermione!"

"You said you wanted to talk. Now, you're not answering me! If you're not saying anything then I'm leaving!" Hermione cried with frustration.

"NO! Wait, stay! Hold on, where are you?" Harry looked around profusively.

Silence. Would she really leave him behind? Then, slowly a hand, not connected with a body, stretched out from Hermione's voice.

"Take my hand." She urged in a familiar calm tone.

He took her hand and walked forward, back toward the house. Suddenly his vision focused again. Hermione, in front of him, arched a brow.

"Wha—?" Harry started but Hermione cut him off.

"Protection boundaries. We've walked too far. Let's head back since you're in no mood for talking anymore. She strode for the Burrow.

"No, wait—"

"Then, ANSWER ME!" She whirled around, flipping her hair to one side.

"What do you want to hear? All this time, I've tried my apologies but apparently, those don't work. What else am I suppose to do?"

" Are you asking me for what I want to hear? Harry, I've missed you ever since you came to the Burrow. You're not the same person I bade my goodbyes on Kings Cross Station. You became a completely different person. I wish I could say that I know you. That day that I came up to your room, I wanted to find out if I actually can still call you a friend that I knew well. A close friend. A best friend." Hermione stepped toward him slowly until she could almost touch his nose with hers.

"I can't." She whispered.

Those two words massacred Harry's heart, tore it into pieces, fed it to a paper stripper, grounded it to mush and shot a bullet through it. He wanted to wrap his around her and hold her tightly. He wanted Hermione back.

But he didn't. He just stared back in silence. They stared at each other for a moment longer. To Harry, it seemed like they gazed for more than just a few minutes, maybe hours, or maybe even days. All his wanted is to stay in the pool of Hermione's eyes. He poured all of his apologies,, his want, his love, his grieving, into that stare. He hoped that she would understand. He saw her eyes softened as the time elapsed. He didn't want to break contact and just wished to stay like that forever….

But apparently, Hermione thought differently. She broke away first and turned toward the house. But not before Harry saw a singly tear dripped from her eyes.

Then, it happened.

Hermione's POV

It must've been minutes, days, years, CENTURIES even, before we lost eye contact. Until I lost eye contact. I couldn't stand it anymore. I could feel Harry's want for me, his apologies basically radiating from his body. At one point, I wanted so much for everything to be normal again between us. At one point, I wanted to run and jump into his arms. At one point, I accepted his apologies and ceased the firy tension. But I didn't. For the next split-second, a slideshow raced in front of my eyes. It consisted of the first time Malfoy used the word the word in my second year and the atmosphere tensed. I knew it was bad but I didn't understand. It consisted of the good times that me and Harry had. It also consisted of a replay of the fight Harry and I had recently. It felt like the end of the world. It felt like I died. It haunted me. So I decided to turn away.

As soon as I broke away, I regretted it and a single tear fell from my eyes.

If only I spoke up, acted upon instinct, the rest of the year would've been completely different. For the rest of the year, I would've been Harry's friend.