"Now how do we get it to switch?" She asked. Harry just laughed, and hugged her.
She smacked his arm playfully. "I'm serious Harry! I need you to see how much I meant what I said." She paused thoughtfully. "I also think it's only fair if you see my life."
"Fine," Harry sighed in defeat. "What were you thinking or feeling when you found yourself in my mind?"
She had to think back; she had just lived about thirteen years more of life! "I was trying to will you to see my point of view," she said, pleased with herself.
He gave her an odd look, saying, "Isn't that a bit backwards?"
She just smirked back, and said, "Ironic, isn't it?" He just shook his head at her, smiling a bit. Then it vanished, and he frowned. "What?" She asked.
He sighed and said, "This isn't gonna work."
"Why not?" She asked, puzzled.
"Well, for one thing, I don't really want you see my side; it's painful. For another, you've already seen it. It would be like trying to will you into existence; I wouldn't have to try."
She frowned for a moment. "I see your point," she sighed. For a moment they just sat there, holding each other. Out of the blue, Hermione brightened. "Harry," she said excitedly, "What if it's not what we will, but that we will?"
"Huh?" Harry was totally out of his depth here.
"Harry, I want you to look into my eyes, and will yourself into me." Harry raised his eyebrows at her, and she blushed, realizing how that sounded. She smacked his arm playfully. "Into my mind, silly! Maybe we'll try the other one later." She winked suggestively.
Harry stared at her for a minute, then shook himself. He glared at her. How do you expect me to will anything when you do that to me?" He demanded. She just giggled.
They both took a moment to compose themselves with a deep breath, then looked each other in the eye. Harry barely needed to do anything before he found himself in Hermione's mind. Hermione? He thought, startled.
He felt her surprise. Harry?
I guess it worked, he thought, amused. I wonder why it was so easy this time?
Can we discuss this later please? Hermione thought, slightly amused at the curiosity that was usually hers.
As if to emphasize her point, Harry thought to her with mock shock, Hermione wants to delay studying something?
Yes, she does, Hermione responded with mock aloofness.
Alright, Hermione, let's get this show on the road, Harry thought.
Let's, came the agreement.
A swirl of images passed Harry, and he found himself in a classroom. You're first memory would be of school, Harry thought to Hermione with amusement.
Instead of embarrassment, like he expected, Harry heard dejection in her answer, Yes, it would. Puzzled, he watched.
He soon discovered that Hermione was almost as outcast at school as he was. He struggled to control his rage at the students who mocked her. He comforted himself with the fact that she had a good a home life. And she did. But school was her own personal hell.
He tried to ignore it, but found that he couldn't. He clenched his fists, knowing it wouldn't make a difference if he tried to beat the pompous buffoon who thought he was hilarious. Finally, her eleventh birthday came. He fully shared in her joy that she finally knew what set her apart from other students!
The rest of the school year passed as usual, and Harry eagerly awaited Hogwarts. Like Hermione, he had read the books before going. She just had a better memory than he did. He was ashamed to realize that, once he'd met Ron, his study habits had fallen by the way-side. And because of Ron, he treated Hermione just as badly as the rest of those asses at her old school had. I'm sorry, he whispered to her mentally as his heart broke.
Keep watching. He dutifully did as told. He saw the fight with the troll from her perspective, and realized that she thought he was brave. The thought warmed him. Watching himself through her eyes every year, he realized what she meant. She truly meant what she said; no one blamed him except him.
He opened his eyes back in his own mind, grabbed Hermione in a tight hug, and wept. He wept for his parents, for Hermione, and most of all for himself. Because he now knew he was worth it. After a while he calmed down, and looked down at his great, smart, and beautiful girlfriend, and said simply, "Thank you, Hermione. I may not have said it before, but I appreciate everything you've ever done for me. That last one second to just one."
"What's it second to?" She wondered aloud.
"Being friends with me," he said simply. "Without that, none of this would have happened. I probably would have died in first year.
"Thank you, Hermione, for being you."