"Thank you, Hermione, for being you."

Those words just kept going through her head. It wasn't just that he had said the words to her that made her so happy-it was knowing that he meant them.

She was about to say something similar when Petunia burst into the room; apparently, her drugs from yesterday had finally worn off. "What did you do to my Duddie-kins?" The bitter woman cried.

Hermione regretfully got off of Harry's lap and faced the woman. With a surprising amount of calmness, she responded, "I just gave him what he deserved."

The harpy's eyes flashed, and she raised her hand to slap the girl. Before she could, she felt a strong, painful grip on her wrist. Surprised-and a little scared-she looked up into Harry's eyes; the rage she saw in them mad her more than a little scared.

"Never," Harry spat, "raise your hand to Hermione. Understood?"

Terrified, the hateful woman just nodded obediently. Satisfied, Harry spun her around towards the door, and gave the woman a push, shutting the door behind her. He turned back to Hermione with a satisfied expression on his face. She beamed at him. Though he thought he knew, he asked why anyway.

"You faced your fears," Hermione responded simply, still smiling.

Harry grinned. "Unfortunately," he said, "I didn't." Seeing the surprise on her face, and knowing she would protest, he followed it up with, "After seeing everything through your eyes, she was just a small spiteful woman; I never faced her while afraid of her."

Hermione's smile saddened a little; she wished he had never been afraid of her in the first place. She also knew she wasn't going to do anything, no matter how much she wanted to; in spite of everything, Harry considered them family, and to an extent, he did love them.

Deciding to change the subject, she asked how his back was. He stretched a little, and frowned. "It doesn't hurt."

Although surprised, she felt a little better. Still, she had to check. "Turn around and lift up your shirt, please," she commanded. Harry raised his eyebrows suggestively again, making sure Hermione blushed before he did as commanded.

When she saw his back, she gasped. "What is it, Hermione?" Harry asked, trying to see. She didn't answer, just asked to see his arms. A little confused, he did as requested; they bath gasped at the sight of the unblemished skin.

Before either of them could say anything, an owl flew through his open window, dropping the letter in its beak. Harry grabbed it before Hermione could, and read it. He frowned and passed it to Hermione.

Mr. Harry James Potter and Ms. Hermione Jane Granger,

Record of a Healing charm has been recorded at your presence. Please refrain from using magic until you are of age, especially around muggles.

Sincerely,

Anna Smith

Head of the Department for the Use of Underage Magic

Hermione snorted after she read the letter. She tossed it to the side, and said, "It's a good thing you're the Chosen One again. Nothing else would have stopped them!"

"Yeah," Harry agreed, "and it looks like they fired the last head of the department, Matilda, or something like that."

"Indeed," Hermione agreed, "Fudge has been replaced by Scrimgeour, and Umbridge has been thrown out as well; it looks like anyone who disagreed with you is being replaced!" She said eagerly. Then she looked away. "I'm sorry I got you in trouble, though."

Harry took his girlfriend's face in his hands and forced her to look at him. "Hermione, I told you, we were done saying sorry to each other! Besides, from your gasp, I'm thinking it was accidental." Unable to look away, she nodded, and eyes filled with tears when she remembered how much pain he had been in.

Harry pulled Hermione to him in a fierce hug as she started to cry. "I could feel how much you hurt, and I just wanted it to go away," she sniffed.

"It did, Hermione, it did," he whispered soothingly.

She shook her tears away, sniffed one final time, and pulled away to glare at him. "Don't think I've forgotten what I saw this morning, Mr. Potter!" Although she knew what he had been feeling and thinking, she had been in therapy before and knew that he needed to talk about it for the pain to truly start fading.

A guilty look flashed across his face, and she knew he had been hoping to not talk about it. She didn't say anything, just continued to look at him until he sighed in defeat. She then grabbed his hand, pulled him toward the bed, and hopped in his lap again, snuggling into him.

Harry smiled down at the pretty witch in his lap, and wrapped his arms around her. After getting comfortable, she looked up at him looking for all the world like a child waiting for an explanation on the facts of life. Harry chuckled to himself, thinking that Hermione had probably looked exactly like that as a child.

He lost his amusement as he remembered exactly which facts she wanted. He sighed, and decided he might as well start.

"I made a mistake," he said simply. He knew Hermione was not going to let it go at that, and continued, "It's obvious now that it wasn't my fault. But I still felt guilty; Sirius is dead, and everyone else at the Ministry ended up injured in some way, you and Ron most of all. I hated the thought that you had been in danger every year, and even knowing that it's not my fault doesn't help much; I'm still the focus. I know it doesn't seem to make sense, but physical pain seemed to help lessen the emotional pain."

Harry was looking away by this point as tears threatened. Hermione reached up, gently encouraging him to look at her again. "It's the reason you didn't cry out when Dudley was beating you, isn't it?" She asked softly. He nodded, closing his eyes. "Harry, you saw my memories. You know I felt the same way once. Afterwards, I felt ashamed, and promised I would never do it again. I just want you to promise me the same thing," she said, still whispering.

He opened his eyes to look at her again. He took a breath to calm himself a little, then raised his right hand to add a little humor, and said, "I, Harry James Potter, do hereby swear to one Hermione Jane Granger to cease inflicting pain upon myself." Because of the situation, it wasn't very funny, but Hermione appreciated his effort to try and make them both feel better.

Deciding that she wanted to do a better job than he did, she pulled him down to her. Harry smiled before he kissed her. He was glad Hermione had forced him to open up, and he wasn't going to complain about the treatment after, either!

After what could have been seconds or days, they pulled apart flushed and breathing heavily. The smiling teens went grabbed some lunch out of Hermione's bag and ate in a companionable silence.

After eating, they finally realized that they had barely seen the Dursleys for the last two days. Puzzled they went into the hall and down to Dudley's room. Looking in, they saw him sitting in the corner of his unlit room, holding his hand-which appeared to be in a cast-and looking at them in terror.

They left, closing the door in silence, and silently agreed that they did not want to open the door to his elder relative's room and headed downstairs. They were surprised to see the adults downstairs at the table. Hermione, with her usual curiosity, asked when Dudley had gotten the cast.

They were not happy to be spoken to. They glared at her hatefully in silence for a little while, before Petunia responded venomously, "This morning."

The teens turned to the clock and realized with shock that it was after 6. Apparently, explorations in the mind took a while. They surmised that Petunia had confronted them after the hospital, and not after the drugs wore off, as they had thought.

If the Dursleys had expected the questions to end there, they didn't know Hermione. "What did you say?"

They glared at her again. It was a purple-faced Vernon who answered this time, "We said a cinderblock fell on his hand."

Harry decided that she had pushed her luck enough already, and ushered her out the door before she could ask anything else.

She grabbed his hand and leaned on him the moment they were the door. "Where are we going?" She asked curiously.

"Wait and see," he said. When he saw that she was going to press him, he added, "You'll recognize it from my memories."

Surprisingly, she didn't press him anymore. She just hugged his arm, content in his presence. It wasn't long before a playground came to view. Harry had been right; she did recognize it. This was the place he had come when he wanted to get out of his house. Every once in a while, Dudley's gang would get him here, but for the most part, he felt safe here.

She was pleased to see that it was different from the way it had been in his memories. Someone seemed to have decided to fix it up. There were now three swings that worked, and everything had been re-painted. Hermione smiled as they walked to the bench.

As Harry led Hermione to the bench, he noticed a group of younger kids coming towards the park. He didn't say anything to Hermione as they sat down; she would see soon enough.

It was a group of three boys, and after giving Harry and Hermione an odd look, the decided to simply ignore them and play.

Hermione felt Harry relax as they watched the kids play. She doubted he had even realized how tense he was. Every once in a while, she would look up at him, loving the peace in his eyes as he always looked back; she realized that she rarely saw him at peace. She realized that there was also something that had been in his eyes that wasn't there anymore. It didn't take her long to realize that it was guilt.

For now, she decided not to dwell on it, and watched the kids play carelessly. When the kids left, Harry pulled her up, gave her a gentle kiss, and they headed back to the Dursleys. They hadn't said a word. She was reminded of some lyrics by a band called Lacuna Coil:

All I ever wanted

All I ever needed

Is here in my arms

Words are very unnecessary

They can only do harm

Although she knew that words would not harm them, she couldn't help but think of how fitting the rest of the verse was. She couldn't even bring herself to care that they were staying at the Dursleys; she had Harry, and that was all she needed.