It took some time to calm her down, but eventually she seemed feeling good enough to talk. Harry had given her some butterbeer, which had cheered her up and she seemed quite placid while whipping her mascara of her face with the napkin Harry had given her. Harry had never understood why Hermione, this strong, inevitable woman could be transformed into a snivelling hanky by just a few words of his best friend, Ronald Weasley. He had always thought that the sexual tension between them was enough to build a relation on, but clearly "make up sex" hadn't been enough to handle this situation. That was somewhat frightening.

'What happened?' he asked with a frown, watching Hermione blow her nose in the napkin.

'I… Oh, Harry, I don't know. I don't know why it escaladed… Normally it never does, I mean, we have some argues but we never…'

She sighed and fiddled with her napkin.

'I threw a vase at him.'

'A vase?' Harry asked dumbly.

Hermione sighed again.

'Yes. I did. It's just, we had this conversation about his work, and you know I completely support him because he's helping George with the shop… I mean, it's this brother-brother thing which just has to be done, right? And with Fred gone, well… I guess it's just Ron trying to say "I'm sorry", or something like that… But…'

She looked at Harry with a stubborn look in her eyes.

'You know he's trying to become an Auror by doing a part-time study, right? He must have told you…'

'Yes, he did,' Harry replied, 'go on.'

'Well, to be honest, he's neglecting it immensely,' she began, and now it was Harry's turn to sigh.

'Merlin Hermione, you surely haven't said anything about this, have you?'

'I-… I'm his girlfriend, Harry! I just want the best for him!'

Harry laid his head in the palm of his hands and shrugged through his hair, making it even messier than it was before.

'That's right, Hermione. You're his girlfriend. Not his mother.'

'But, Harry! How on earth will he expect to pass his exams when he hasn't actually studied? I mean, the only thing he does is going to the pub, hanging out with you or anyone else for that matter! He just takes whatever distracts him from his study! I want him to become an Auror, Harry, but he's just throwing it away! Every chance the Ministry has given him because of the war will be spilled if he fails!'

Harry couldn't hold back a little smile. Good, old Hermione.

'Why did you throw a vase at him?' he finally asked.

Hermione's face showed a flash of shame, but it turned to a red flush of anger in no time.

'Well, he… I started about his study and how he wasn't doing anything at all, and because he ignored me I got angry and I started to point out that he hadn't cleaned his desk for weeks, even though I did ask him a million times to do so…'

She started to tear the corners of the napkin off.

'And then… Then he shouted at me that he thought it would be best to get a House Elf to do it!'

Harry pushed his hand on his forehead. He loved his friend dearly, and he did agree with him on many, many points, but this was pure thickness. He and Ron both knew very well that Hermione had tried to raise an organisation called S.P.E.W (Society for the Protection of Elfish Welfare), but she had failed miserably because only he, Ron and Neville had joined it: not because they thought it was a good cause, but because Hermione would finally stop nagging them if they did.

'He didn't, did he?' Harry groaned, annoyed by Ron's failing and Hermione nodded in agreement.

'Isn't that AWFUL? He wanted to keep a SLAVE. So I told him what I thought about this slavery and exploitation, and…'

She bulged for a moment because she wanted to say so many in just a few words, but then she let her head down and threw the snipped napkin on the floor. Harry saw her shoulders started shaking again, and he put his arm around her.

'What else did he say?'

Hermione didn't respond. He saw tears streaming down her face: he took them away with his thumbs.

'Hermione…' he said softly, but she didn't dare to look at him. Harry moved his chair next to hers and pulled her close. The moment her head touched his chest, she gave in to all her sadness and cried like he had never see her cry. She grasped onto his shirt, scratching him a bit with her nails, pushed her head as close to his collarbone as she could and flung her legs over his lap. Hermione was now resting on his upper legs and Harry was quite shocked by it. He laid his head on hers, smelling the vanilla shampoo flavour he loved while nuzzling in her hazelnut brown hair. He laid his hands around her hips, feeling her slim body and he had never been this angry at Ron in his entire life. She had never been this hurt, not even when he deserted them while camping in the woods, hiding for Voldemort. What had he done? Hermione was everything to him. She was the one who gave him his first kiss since his mother did at that fatal night in october: it was a peck on the cheek, nothing more, but nonetheless it was very important to him. It was a sign that she would always be there to comfort him. To hug him. To make him feel loved, both physically and mentally. She believed in him, even when Harry couldn't do that himself. Hurting Hermione was like hurting a part of his soul and he would tell Ron how he felt about her, even though he hated arguing with Ron.

He kissed her hair without noticing. It was like repaying her for the kiss at King's Cross at the end of their fourth year. This was his way to comfort her. He kept her against his body, firmly, he stroked and caressed her back and kissed her hair again and again and again, just to show her how much she meant to him. He realized he had never thanked Hermione properly. This was his way of telling her.

Finally she came to her senses. Harry gave her another napkin from the kitchen counter and she laughed through her tears.

'I must look like a right mess,' she said watery, but Harry shook his head.

'You are fine, Hermione. I don't care how you look. You're my friend. My very good friend.'

It made Hermione cry and laugh at the same time.

'Oh, Harry…'

She wiped her face again and went back to sit on her own chair. Her smile said more than a thousand words.

'I just… I don't know if I want to…'

She sighed heavily and looked concerned. Her voice was still trembling and Harry stood up to get her a glass of water.

'I don't want you to hate Ron. He's your best friend. He must remain that way, you know.'

'We'll survive,' Harry promised with a gentle smile while taking water from the tap, 'our friendship survived both the fourth year and the Horcrux hunt. We'll manage, I'm sure.'

He handed her the glass and she thanked him. She sipped at it and for a moment it was peaceful in the kitchen. Like nothing had happened.

'He began to rant about me,' Hermione suddenly said, breaking the lovely moment of silence.

'He said that I was starting to annoy him. He said that he hated my bossiness, my structured thinking, my study models which I had given him that morning to pass his exams, he said he loathed the way I smell in the morning and he disgusts my cooking. He is annoyed that I'm not interested in Quidditch or the joke-shop, he thinks I should stop being so concerned all the time and most importantly, he thinks I'm a bad lover.'

She gulped and wasn't even able to look Harry in the eye.

'He… He said that if I didn't want to give him what he was looking for, that he would go searching for it. He wants me to grow up. He thinks it's a sign of… Of childishness that I'm still into S.P.E.W and he thinks…'

She inhaled deeply.

'He thinks that "I bloody have to sort out my priorities in life" and "stop whining about those bloody parents of yours"… You know my parents, Harry. You know them!'

Harry didn't blink. His face was pure, cold anger. Of course he knew her parents. After finishing the battle of Hogwarts, she went directly to Australia to get her parents back. She finally managed to retrace their memories, but they weren't the people they had been. It wasn't like their personality had changed, or their appearance for that matter. No. They changed in their attitude towards their daughter. They were frightened of her, somehow. They knew she had saved their lives, but now they had experienced magic in this drastic way, they were suspicion. They behaved differently around her. It was very hard for Hermione to deal with this. Her parents were everything to her. Harry understood her like no other. He knew how it was like to live without parents. He knew it. Ron never understood it. He never would.

'And then… Well, I just lost it! I threw the vase at him and I apparated. I think I hit him, Harry! I think I hit him right in his face!'