Harry awoke suddenly in the night, sitting quickly upright in his bed after a nightmare that was quickly fading from his mind. All he could recall was death and a cold feeling, and then there was the distinct image of the eyes of a very old man watching him, eyes that seemed to pierce into his soul.
He nearly had to catch his breath and wondered if he'd stopped breathing in his sleep. Hermione stirred at his side and he tried to lie back down slowly to avoid fully waking her, but he was unsuccessful. She rolled in closer to him, tucking in against his chest, so close that they were nearly sharing breaths.
"Bad dreams?" she asked, half yawning as felt listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
"Mmm" was all he managed, softly rubbing her back.
"I still have them to some nights; I've stopped taking the dreamless potion months ago. Side effects can be problematic. But mostly they're gone when I'm with you."
"This was a strange one" he noted. "Nothing to do with the war or any of that I don't think. I can't really remember it. I'm sorry I woke you."
"It's fine. Are you going to see Ron today?"
"Yes" he nodded, feeling sleep once more falling over him like a heavy blanket. "I am going to tell him that I am taking you to the ball this weekend, and that we have feelings for each other and etcetera etcetera..." he trailed off lazily.
"Good. And then Ginny will know and she'll stop trying to sink her claws into you."
He frowned in the dark. "I think you're getting a bit ahead of yourself. We're just friends."
"We were just friends too if you remember" she remarked indignantly. But then she laughed in spite of herself. She knew that Ginny was not out to steal back Harry, she just liked to make him uncomfortable on occasion. She found it somewhat adorable.
"You're... not funny" he mumbled as he finally fell back asleep.
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The next day was a Saturday, and Harry was taking the walk back to Hogsmeade to visit his friend Ron. He had been spending a lot more time with Ron lately, and had even told him about the letter from Mr. Anonymous, the disappearance of Professor Freeman and Les Maudites one night while he helped him clean up the joke shop.
Ron had been concerned, but also somewhat relieved that he was no longer in close proximity to the danger of Harry's life. While he loved Harry like a brother, and would gladly die for him, the mental strain of their many years together fighting evil had exhausted him in many ways. Some nights, Ron would find himself awake in his apartment, alone to his thoughts and he would realize it was only a matter of time before he would find himself back to working in the way of life and death. But for now, he was happy for the quiet the joke shop offered.
Since it was a Saturday, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes was filled with excitement when Harry arrived. By now some of the excitement at seeing the famous Harry Potter had worn off, but there were still plenty of autograph requests and flirtatious females and all the other trappings of fame. Since Ron was in the middle of a transaction Harry helped himself into the back room where he sat, enjoying the peace. He wasn't sure how Ron was going to react to the news, but because they had become closer again he was hopeful.
After nearly a half an hour Ron came bursting through the door, slamming it solidly behind him. "It's crazy out there! I'm going to need to hire more staff!"
"Have time to take a break and go for a walk?" Harry asked.
"Yeah, sure. What's the point of owning the place if you can't skive off whenever you feel like it?"
The two pulled on their winter jackets and headed out the back door and onto the more secluded trails leading out of Hogsmeade. At first they talked easily about Quidditch and Ron asked how Ginny was improving since last week when the three had practiced together. Harry felt almost light as they laughed over how drunk Ron had gotten the previous weekend, but then he still had the burden of truth hanging over his head.
"Listen Ron, I'm taking Hermione to the winter ball tonight."
"Oh yeah, probably a good idea you go together, those things can be dreadful. Although I really don't understand why you don't just scoop up the nearest adoring female and have some fun, we only live once, and in your case it may not be that long... kidding! Of course."
"Well, I mean... we'd be going as more than friends is the thing. And I wanted you to know first because undoubtedly it will be some stupid sensationalized thing."
Ron stopped walked and gaped at Harry for that felt like an eternity. His mouth hung open so wide Harry had the odd compulsion to scoop up a snowball and log it in, but then Ron finally spoke in a stuttered, broken manner. "You... and... Hermione?"
"I know you both always had a future sort of in mind, I think we all thought she was the girl for you mate, and I really don't want this to be anything bad between us. After you broke up with her... feelings just sort of... came up." Harry felt largely uncomfortable at the tense silence, and while he had carefully planned what he would say it still came out sounding foolish.
"Feelings just came up?" Ron repeated in an odd tone. "Like vomit just comes up? Just unexpected and out of the blue?"
"Well, that analogy is a bit gross... but yes. Well no. I mean, if I'm going to be honest, and I feel I should be, I have had feelings for her for quite some time now... maybe years."
"Why didn't you tell me?" Ron asked his expression unreadable, his tone flat.
"I thought you were happy together. You have both been such good friends to me, I didn't want to destroy any of that happiness you so deserved."
Ron turned away for a moment, tilting his head up to the sky where the grey winter clouds had parted momentarily to allow a long streak of sunlight to filter down to his pale skin. He seemed to be enjoying the faint warmth it offered, and he remained silent to the point that Harry almost found maddening.
"Are you in love with her?" Ron finally asked.
"Yes" Harry responded flatly, still studying his unmoving best friend. Ron was like a brother to him, he had been Harry's first true friend. The tension of the situation made his gut hurt. He suddenly wished they could go back to being eleven, collecting chocolate frog cards on the train.
Finally, Ron opened his eyes and turned back to Harry, fixing his gaze on Harry's face as through searching for something in the raven haired boys features. "It must have been difficult for you, watching us together."
Harry nodded. "There were times when it felt like it might be okay. I felt strongly for your sister, and then I thought maybe the happiness you and Hermione shared might be enough to make me feel content with things. It seemed... greedy to be concerned with being loved when I should feel fortunate for friendship and the fact that we are alive."
Ron snorted and it made Harry jump with surprise, as laughter was not what he expected. A punch he was ready to handle, even a well-aimed jinx and a nasty assault of name calling. But laughter set poor Harry's nerves on edge.
"Harry, you're so humble sometimes it sickens me. You say that you wanted to see me happy? Well, believe it or not, I want to see you happy too bloke. I'm surprised that you're in love with Hermione, I won't lie about that, but I think if there's one thing I learned from the war it's that life is too short to not pursue happiness. I also learned that there are way too many riddles in the wizarding world, but that's a side note."
Harry laughed at this, his heart lifted to hear Ron's words. "You're right Ron. Too many God damned riddles."
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Harry fussed over his dress robes in the mirror of his bedroom. While he would be the first to admit that he was no expert on fashion, he couldn't help but wish there was a bit more variety to the wizard wardrobe. He felt like a big penguin. Hermione is going to take one look at me and laughhe thought, glumly playing with his bow tie for a thousandth time.
He rarely thought about his physical appearance, but now he felt a bit uncertain gazing at his own reflection. The last ball Hermione had gone to was with the broad shouldered, well-muscled and internationally famous Viktor Krum. Harry had the fame thing going for him, but Viktor clearly had him on the physical end. Harry wasn't weak, and he had grown to a decent height but he doubted he would be featured in a Wizard of the Month swimsuit calendar anytime soon.
And then there was the issue of his relentlessly messy black hair. He had even gotten it cut professionally for the occasion, but still it looked tousled about like he had just gotten in a wrestling match with a troll. Normally, he would not have cared. But he wanted the occasion to be special for Hermione, and he knew these sorts of events held special meaning to girls. He knew this because Ginny had talked about it relentlessly for the past two weeks as they practiced on the quidditch pitch. She had opted to go stag for the event explaining "once I'm playing quidditch for the Holyhead Harpies I won't have the time for a boyfriend." Still, her single status did not stop her from squabbling on endlessly about her dress color and who her friends would be going with, and what sort of music she hoped they'd play.
With a final hopeless effort to fix his hair, Harry sighed and went down to the common room to wait for Hermione. Once down there, he found many other Gryffindor boys sitting in their dress robes looking equally flustered and uncomfortable. "Girls love to make you wait" one of them complained gruffly.
"Who're you going with Harry?" one of them asked, offering him a flask of firewhiskey which he gladly took a long swig from to calm his nerves.
"Hermione" he said with a small smile, ignoring the looks the boys exchanged with each other.
Just as the boys were half way to being properly loaded, the girls started to come down the staircase one by one. Harry waited, half nervous and half excited. He saw Ginny first, who looked quite breath taking in a dark colored dress that suited her fiery hair quite well. She smiled at Harry and he grinned back.
"You look wonderful" he greeted.
"Oh Harry, you look quite handsome yourself!" she exclaimed, sizing him up.
"Really?" he asked skeptically, gazing down uncomfortably at his dress robes.
"Harry, one day you will realize how genetically fortunate you are and then the world of women best watch out!" she leaned in closer to him then and whispered in his ear, "Although, from what I understand, there's only one woman who you're concerned with right now."
"She told you?"
"Yes, the other night. I hope you're both ready for the media fall out. This could be bigger news than the death of Voldemort" she laughed, and Harry laughed with her, feeling light. And just then, he saw her coming down the stairs towards him.
For a moment he felt his heart might stop. He remembered the night he saw her at the Yule Ball and how amazing she had looked, but now with age she looked even more stunning. There was a light of happiness in her eyes and he felt elated at the concept that he was the cause of such joy.
Hermione had been spending all afternoon getting ready; wanting everything to be just so, but now that she saw Harry she thought that all the fuss had hardly mattered. The way he looked at her with such transparent love and devotion made her feel nearly faint. Everyone had gone on to the dance, and when she reached him, he was leaned against the back of the couch, grinning like a fool.
She kissed him and he leaned his forehead against hers, simply standing there for a moment. "I want to hold onto this moment a little longer" he explained.
"You have me forever" she responded, wrapping her arms against his neck. They were so young, and yet she knew this was the sort of love that could carry on a lifetime; the sort of rare, magnificent love that people spend most of their lives searching for and rarely find.
"I've never been able to keep anyone for very long" he sighed. "It seems loving me is sort of a curse for everyone who's ever done it." She could understand the bitter truth of his words, but she did not want to hear it just then. So she kissed him again, and they headed to the ball.
The Great Hall was in all its glory, it was hard to believe that less than a year before there had been dead bodies strewn on stretchers. Globes of light were suspended all about, creating a magical glow, and the enchanted ceiling above them showed snow gently falling. The students gathered in groups around the hall, whispering and laughing, waiting for the first brave couple to take to the dance floor.
As people saw Harry and Hermione enter hand-in-hand there was an increased volume in the excited whispers. "Mr. Potter, Miss Granger" a shrill voice greeted and they turned to see Professor McGonagall greeting them. "I must admit, keeping the press from attending this event was one of the more difficult things I've had to deal with in my brief time as Headmistress" she said with a wink.
"Well, we appreciate it Headmistress" Hermioned smiled politely.
"Yes, well, if you truly want to show your appreciation you'll get this ball started by getting on the dance floor."
Harry's jaw felt like it just about hit the floor. "You can't be serious professor."
"Serious as a heart attack Harry" she responded in a flat tone, sipping her punch (which Harry had the odd suspicion was spiked up a bit).
"Well Harry, we are head girl and head boy. It seems only fitting that we take the lead."
Harry groaned. "First the Yule Ball and now this. Voldemort may have failed at finishing me off, but I think I may die of humiliation nonetheless."
"Oh honestly Harry, you can be so melodramatic" Hermione admonished, grabbing his hand and forcibly dragging him across the dance floor. "It's not as though McGonagall didn't give us dancing lessons our fourth year."
"Have you ever known me to be good at listening?" he grumbled but then her hand was in and he felt much less awkward than he had with Parvati Patil. Plus, she was a very commanding lead (unsurprisingly) and so he found he just had to follow her and he wasn't even stepping on her toes.
At first he was conscious of the gawking faces of students as they blatantly pointed at their famous head girl and head boy moving onto the dance floor. But then that all seemed to fade into the background as he allowed himself the peace of swaying with her, and the opportunity of that experience allowed him to openly admire her beautiful features. Soon others were joining them in dancing and before they knew it, it was late into the evening and Harry found that he was truly enjoying himself.
When the dance was over he bid her goodnight from the foot of girls' dormitory steps. She wrapped her arms around his neck tightly and whispered in his ear, "I'll be in soon."
He smiled as he ran happily up the stairs, glad to feel as any normal as any teenage boy home from a dance that had gone in his favor. He half undressed, removing his robe, shoes, socks and shirt and then somewhere gave up and crawled under the warm covers, waiting for her with great anticipation and trying to fight off sleep.
Hermione wanted to be careful about sneaking out of the girls' dormitory. She managed to get away with it every night, but that was not a reason to throw caution to the wind in her opinion. She was, after all, head girl and she took the position with high regard.
After getting through her nightly rituals of changing into pajamas, washing her face, brushing her teeth and combing her hair she decided to calm her nerves by reading a chapter of her latest literary endeavor. She knew that Harry would probably laugh if he knew that she was using reading as a way to relax, but she was wound up from the dance and she needed to steady her mind. She had always prided herself on being collected.
After perhaps an hour had passed she neatly set her book aside and crept from the dormitory where it sounded as though most of the students had fallen asleep (or had snuck off somewhere for a snog). Still, she crept softly as she approached his room and slipped inside where his bedside lantern still glowed but he himself was fast asleep. She smiled to herself at how almost childish he looked rolled up in the blankets, his mouth partly open as he lightly snored.
She sat over him a moment, studying the way his dark lashed fall across his cheeks, casting a shadow from the nearby light. His features had become so familiar to her, and yet she felt she could never get enough of looking at him... or having him look at her. She crawled under the covers delicately as not to wake him, and rested her face near his until the scent of his soap and warmth of his body surrounded her. Here she felt at peace, and her nightmares rarely visited her in his bed.
Seeming to sense she was there he moved slightly, rolling closer towards her until his lips lightly brushed her brow in what might have been a kiss. The slight gesture made her feel butterflies in her stomach, and slowly she curled her hand around his belt buckle, which in his laziness he had failed to remove.
This caused him to wake fully in more ways than one, and in the faint light she saw his green eyes looking into hers from mere inches away. She took the initiative to close the gap and press her lips against his, his lips parting to allow her to deepen the kiss. He allowed her to take control of the situation, rolling onto his back as her hands worked to remove his belt.
"Are you sure?" he whispered heavily into her ear, intoxicated by her touch, her scent, her whole being.
"Absolutely" she smiled.
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When Hermione woke in the morning it was with a fuzzy feeling of disbelief followed by and fluttering feeling of excitement. Harry was still heavily asleep on his stomach, his black hair in extreme disarray. He seemed to be smiling in his sleep which she found to be additionally funny. The night before felt half like a dream; his kisses, the way his hands shook slightly as he removed her clothes, the way he gently touched her skin.
But it was definitely not a dream. She knew this because she was wearing his button up which she buried her face in the sleeve of now, enjoying the softness of the fabric and the way it smelled of him. She moved half onto him, resting her head lazily between his shoulder blades, moving with the rise and fall of his breathing.
"Let's never leave this bed" he grumbled from below her, his mouth muffled by the pillow.
"I do not think that's an option" she sighed. "I want to see what's being said in the papers about us." She moved to climb from the bed but he quickly caught her, dragging her back down onto the mattress with him.
God, I forget how fast he movesshe thought to herself as he gave her a mischievous smile.
"Seriously, let me get the paper" she laughed, playfully pushing him away and he easily fell to the side.
"Oh alright" he laughed. "I'll get up at some point. What time is it?"
"Five o'clock."
"In the morning?" he gaped.
"Well, I don't want anyone to see me coming out of your room" she explained sheepishly. "I am after all, head girl."
Harry looked at her in wide eyed surprise for a moment. And then he just laughed.
She changed back into her clothes and threw his shirt at him, sticking her tongue out at him indignantly, and then she headed out. He stretched out happily and then sank back into his dreams.
When he woke up his first order of business was to find Hermione, who was easy enough to spot out at breakfast, her face buried in the Daily Prophet and a pile of magazines by her side. "Anything good?" he asked, casually plopping down across from her.
She hastily threw the paper down and rolled her eyes. "Honestly, I don't know where these things come from. The Daily Prophet was about the only one that's not utter bollocks, and that's still absurd because it's supposed to be actual news. I don't think your love life ought to qualify as news."
"Haven't you heard? Everything I do is news. I can't so much as take a..."
"Don't finish that sentence, I'm eating" she interrupted.
He grinned at her and grabbed the Daily Prophet and read the article that had somehow been contrived overnight through interviews with students, since the press had been banned. Hermione was right, the article wasn't too terrible although a little sickeningly sweet. The headline wrote "The Boy Who Has Finally Found Love" which sort of made him want to wretch.
Last night Hogwarts held a winter ball as a means of celebrating the school's recovery from the Second Wizard War. In attendance were key members of what has been referred to as "Dumbledore's Army" including Ginevra Weasley, Luna Lovegood, Hermione Granger and of course, our beloved hero, Harry Potter.
Harry Potter was rated this year's Most Eligible Bachelor by Witch Weekly due to his fame for defeating He Who Shall Not Be Named, his skills as Gryffindor's Quidditch Captain, his role as Hogwarts Head Boy and his dashing good looks. However, Harry did not attend the ball alone according to students present.
"He came with his best friend Hermione Granger" reports one Hufflepuff sixth year. "But it was clear that they were more than just friends."
"The way he looks at her would make any girl melt in her shoes, but I think it's clear that she feels very strongly about him too" speculated another student from the Ravenclaw house.
Harry had decided he'd gotten through enough of the article and he carefully laid it before him, his expression conveying nothing as he helped himself to a bowl of porridge. Hermione eyed him suspiciously as he ate.
"Did you read the part where is says I have dashing good looks?" he finally asked.
"Ugh, you'll be unbearable now" she scoffed. But he could see the light of laughter in her cinnamon brown eyes. "You know, like I said, that's not the worst. You should see what Witches Weekly has to say on the topic."
"I'd rather not" he frowned. "I didn't even know I'd been elected most eligible bachelor. It's sick really."
"Well, then you really don't want to see what Playwitch writes about you."
His jaw dropped at this and he went slightly pale. "Please tell me you're joking."
She shrugged innocently.
"Hah, nice try, but you would never read that magazine anyways. Would you? Hermione?" he yelped, but she just smirked at him, gathering up her things and leaving the Great Hall and a very flustered Harry glued to his seat.
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When Harry returned to his room he realized he had bigger worries than Playwitch (which now he had the troublesome urge to want to read, but had no desire to be seen picking up a copy. He could only imagine what the magazines would have to say about that). In the whirlwind of classes starting after Christmas break and his emerging new relationship with Hermione and practicing quidditich with Ginny and catching up with Ron, he had entirely forgotten about his last letter from Mr. Anonymous.
Tonight was the night that the stalker letter writer wanted to meet with him in the Forbidden Forest. He pulled the letter out and read it once more. The writer promised answers to his many questions, but he wasn't sure he had any desire to hear them. He sat on his bed and puzzled for a moment over what he should do. Then he whispered "incendio" and watched the letter burn slowly in his hands.
He would choose happiness over mystery and adventure from now on.
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**AUTHOR's NOTE** Slightly shorter chapter this time around, much more will be revealed in the next chapter. Hope you enjoyed. (Also, apologies for any typos, I try to carefully proof read but things seem to still sneak by on occasion). Please review, it is much appreciated!