Hello everybody!

I'm sorry I've been gone FOREVER, but I'm back.

I'll be posting a chapter a week, or atleast one every two weeks.

I'm concentrating on Girl With a Gryffindor Scarf for now, and all my smut action is going to Invisible Cloak of Invisibility, so writing's a little hard for this story.

But don't worry, I'll try to post as often as I can.

Onward to the chapter!

Recap: Harry is a Muggle detective investigating Lady Grey's castle. So is Hermione, as a favour to Minerva. They've not seen each other in two years. Harry is emotionless and cruel to her. She confesses she's liked him since 5th year in the middle of a fight, and then can't face him.

Hermione opened her eyes. She was lying on her bed in her room, having fallen asleep crying. She sat up, gauging the time was about mid-noon from the angle of the sunshine through the window.

Not wanting to be late for lunch, she walked over to the bathroom to wash her face.

Harry heard a ear-splitting scream from next door, just as he was pulling on his shirt to go to lunch.

He dashed into the corridor and threw open Hermione's door, to find her standing in the doorway of the bathroom, looking shaken.

He rushed up to her. "What is it?"

Hermione pointed a shaky finger into the room, apparently too shocked to speak.

Harry looked in, and saw that the bathroom mirror was dripping with blood. He glanced back at her concernedly, but she didn't seem to be bleeding.

He headed back to her, taking her hand and leading her to the bed. Seating her down, he said, "It must have been the poltergeist. You didn't see anything?"

Hermione seemed to regain her voice. "No. Can you run the trace spell?"

Harry nodded, and entered the bathroom again, to do so.

He came back, saying, "Nothing." Even he sounded surprised.

Hermione nodded, and said, "Sorry if I startled you. You go on to lunch. I'll be right there."

She rose, then sat back down shakily.

"Are you okay?" he asked, and got a glass from a nearby table. Pointing his wand at it, he said, "Aguamenti." Then he put the glass in her hand, carefully not touching her, saying, "You're still pretty shaken up. Here."

Hermione drank it, trying to calm down. She knew very well it wasn't the blood that had shaken it. It had been a nasty shock, but let's face it, they'd seen worse.

No, it was Harry who had her all shaken up.

Him, gallantly rushing to her aid, half-dressed. His shirt was only partly buttoned, and she could see part of his sculpted, scarred chest. Her eyes darted up to his face, and found he was watching her. Her gaze quickly fell back to the empty glass.

Harry took in her red-rimmed eyes, and her heart went out to her. He remembered the times Ron had made her cry in school, and how Harry had wondered how anyone could bear to make Hermione cry.

And now here he was, and he had done the same.

On an impulse, he took the glass away from her and set it on the bedside table. He turned back to her, but she wouldn't meet his eyes.

"Hermione," he said softly, sitting beside her on the bed.

She gazed up at him slowly.

"Did you really have a crush on me in sixth-year?"

"Since."

"Huh?" said Harry.

Hermione repeated, in a voice so low he almost didn't hear. "Since sixth-year."

Harry was trying to ignore the growing warmth in his chest. It threatened to make him smile.

He stammered out, "I'm sorry I never noticed."

Hermione badly wanted to say, 'It's because you were too busy going after Ginny', but she restrained.

Instead, after a long silence, she said, "I'm sorry too."

Hermione hoped he heard the meaning behind the words, that she was apologising for everything that had gone wrong, since.

Suddenly she said, "Promise me something."

He looked at her, waiting.

"Promise me you'll be yourself. No more shutting yourself away, no hiding behind a wall. We're both in this, all or nothing."

He contemplated her, and she waited, holding her breath.

The silence stretched longer, and Hermione felt an iron fist squeeze her heart. Her eyes filled with tears again, as she realised that it wouldn't be so easy to break Harry's walls.

And suddenly she was kissing him, fervently, passionately. He was taken by surprise at her enthusiasm, having been fully prepared for anger and hurt.

However, his thoughts turned entirely in another direction, when she climbed onto his lap, her hands snaking around him in an embrace.

Their lips were devouring each other, and Harry realised her lips were softer than ever from the crying.

His fingers were on a journey of their own, trailing over her back. He ran them up her sides, his thumbs lightly brushing the sides of her breasts, and she gasped into his kiss.

Her gasp brought him back to reality. He pulled back, panting harshly.

He put his hands on her hip, and lifted her off his lap, and back onto the bed. He did it gently, without looking at her, but Hermione couldn't help the pain of rejection from showing on her face.

He stood there, panting harshly.

She pleaded, "Please, Harry..."

He realised she was still hoping he would answer her question.

He turned on his back and practically fled from the room.

With a crushed expression, Hermione headed back to the bathroom, and gazed at the mirror, with no trace of blood anymore.

As she splashed her face with water, Harry headed back to his room. He was back in a few minutes.

He had buttoned himself properly, and was even wearing shoes now. His face was drawn, and he didn't meet her eyes, but she knew, that even if he did, they would be without warmth.

Aloof Harry was back.

He asked Hermione briskly, as if they hadn't just been kissing each other senseless, "Is anything missing from your belongings?"

Hermione looked startled. "I haven't really noticed. Why do you ask?"

"Remember the other day? We overheard those men talking about whether we'd left to dinner or not."

Hermione remembered all too well her first kiss with Harry.

"Yes."

Holding the door open for her, he said, "And then the other said, 'Alright then, let's go' or something like that. I have a feeling they then poked around our rooms."

"Is something missing?"

They were walking down the corridors again.

"No, but my Sneakoscope was all lit up and whistling when I came back."

Hermione said, lightly, "Still wrapped in Uncle Vernon's knobbly socks?"

Harry gave a tight smile, and said, "No. If I still had them, the stink would have scared them off."

Hermione gave a small smile in return, but it slipped when he looked up at her, his face expressionless.

They gazed at each other in silence for a moment as they walked along.

Harry continued abruptly, "I think those men set up the blood on the mirror. How long do you think it was there?"

Hermione said, "Any amount of time, really. Do you think it could have been the poltergeist?"

"I don't know. But if the poltergeist didn't do it, it was the men."

Lunch was awkward. Lady Vera seemed to realise something was wrong, after taking one look at Hermione's red eyes.

Hermione and Harry sat opposite each other again, but they did not even look at each other. Harry was withdrawn, his eyes devoid of feeling and lips thin. Hermione could barely control herself in front of him, her lower lip trembling with alternating guilt and tears.

After lunch, Hermione informed Lady Vera that was she was going to take a walk around the haunted wing. Saying so, she began walking down the corridors. The haunted wing was the west one, so all she had to do was keep track of the sun.

She turned a corner and saw Harry a little distance away. Quickly, she tried to turn back, but he saw her. Not wanting to seem like she was running away from him, she walked swiftly down the corridor. Giving him a curt nod, she walked right past him.

Harry called out, "Hermione...wait!"

She didn't. He caught up with her, his long strides making it easy walking though she was going quite fast.

He said softly, "Do you realise how all the time one of us is walking away from the other?"

She stopped abruptly. "So whose fault are you saying it is? Mine?"

"I'm not saying it's anyone's fault."

She snapped, "Then what was all that shit about me cutting you out of my life?"

Harry averted his eyes, looking guilty. "I- I'm sorry I said that. And I'm sorry I was a jerk, in the library. I was just joking around, I shouldn't have done that."

There was a silence, and Hermione gazed at him. She nodded lightly, and a look of relief rolled over Harry's face.

"Why did you leave?" asked Hermione in a low voice.

Harry shot a quick look down at her face, then let his eyes rove over the opposite wall.

Hermione mustered up some more courage, and asked, "Is it because you were done with everything? The fame, the murders, the loss?" .

Harry gave a sad smile. "Yeah, I read Skeeter's book."

He continued,"I couldn't take it. Seeing you...with him."

Hermione's head shot up, and she stared at him

There was another pause, and it seemed to sink into Hermione that Harry had really been cut up about her and Ron. It hadn't just been some schoolboy crush.

Not that she had ever doubted it, after that day at the Burrow when he had snapped at her. But now it seemed to really strike her that maybe he had been in more pain than her. Atleast her decision to be with Ron had been her decision, but both of them had had to suffer for it.

There was no appropriate response to what he'd said, so they walked in silence.

At a branch in the corridor, he stopped. This time she did run into him, her foot hitting his ankle.

She stuttered, "Sorry, Harry, I didn't see you stop and-"

He cut off her bambling apology, saying, "I'm going this way."

She snapped her mouth shut, nodded curtly without meeting his eyes, and turned and walked away down the left corridor.

He watched her, his eyes thoughtful and full of sorrow. Then he walked the other way, away from her.

Do review! I love them!