I'm just gonna skip the teary thank you's and start passing out cupcakes. Sorry about the longer gap! I love you all :]

"Harry?"

Harry looked up as Hermione walked up to him, pausing a moment from his essay. "Hmm?"

"Sorry if I'm...disturbing you or anything-" began Hermione.

"Don't worry, Hermione," reassured Harry.

She smiled down at him, then gestured towards the couch. "Mind if I join you?"

"Not at all."

While Hermione got comfortable, Harry shuffled his papers and books aside for her to sit. To start small talk, he asked, "Able to make the Quidditch practice, are you? I'd feel loads better knowing you were there in the stands."

"Of course! I wouldn't miss it," said Hermione, adding with a playful shove, "Captain."

Harry laughed, pushing her back with the same amount of playfulness, and their harmonized laughter soon dies down as they both get situated again. Hermione opened her book in her lap, tucking her legs up on the side of the couch, slightly brushing against Harry as she did.

"You do realize that Slughorn expects us to be at every party he throws, right?" she broke the silence after a while.

"I do," said Harry without looking up from his parchment. "Do you realize your birthday is exactly a week after Quidditch?"

Hermione froze. "What?"

"I said, do you realize-?"

"N-no, I mean, I heard what you said..." Hermione mentally counted backwards and forwards, mildly ticking off her fingers. How could she have lost track of time so quickly?

A smile twitched at Harry's mouth as he continued to write. "Anything in mind, have you?"

She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it, then opened her mouth again; she was rendered speechless.

"Hermione Jean Granger," teased Harry in a mocking, scolding voice. "Did you forget your own birthday?"

"Oh goodness!" Hermione ran her fingers through her untamed curls, now becoming distressed. "I forgot my own seventeenth birthday! How could I be so stupid?" She threw her book down and got up from her seat abruptly. Her actions, however, took a turn on her, and she was quick to get lightheaded.

Harry was there to catch her mid-sway, hand wrapping around her elbow; his free arm wrapped around her waist to steady her. Befuddled, Hermione opened her eyes, realizing that she was indirectly using Harry's chest as a cushion.

"Wotcher there," said Harry.

"Mm...oh wow. Did I just...?"

Harry laughed, gradually loosening his hold on her. "Yes."

"Wonderful." She closed her eyes again, slumping against him.

"Hermione?"

"Hmm?"

"You can open your eyes now."

"I don't want to."

"Why not?"

"I'm afraid the world is still spinning."

He smiled down at her. "Yeah? It does that."

"Don't get smart with me, Harry."

The two started laughing just as Ron walked in the room. The youngest Weasley male took one look at his best friends and began smirking.

"Am I interrupting something?"

Harry and Hermione were quick to separate, Harry snatching his arms away and Hermione taking a large step to the right.

"And just where have you been?" Hermione demanded, crossing her arms.

"Who are you, Mum?" Ron laughed at the dark look she sent in his direction. "I was just with Cho."

Hermione blinked. "Sorry?"

"Yeah. Ran into her on my way here. Don't worry, I wasn't a git."

"You sure she didn't think so?"

"Shut up, Harry."

Harry grinned. "How is she?"

Ron visibly stiffened. "...Was I supposed to ask?"

"When you talk to a girl, you're supposed to be nice, Ronald," Hermione was lecturing to Ron, an amused Harry trailing behind on their way to the Quidditch field. "Say hello, ask how she is doing, compliment her genuinely, point out the small things that she would think no one notices..."

"You act like it's so simple," Ron grumbled.

Harry sped up his walking, coming up on the other side of Hermione. "Oh hello there, Hermione, how are you?" he played along, grasping her hand and lifting it up to his mouth to kiss the back. Hermione giggled at his antics and he continued without breaking stride, "I think you look rather pretty today." He pulled her close to sniff her hair. "Are you using a new flavor of shampoo?" Harry winked. "It's really working for you."

Ron gave Harry a pointed look while he and Hermione laughed.

"I don't see anything hard about that," said Harry.

"One, it's Hermione," Ron ticked off his fingers. "Two, it's you, and three-it's the bloody both of you!" They stared at him blankly. "In case you lot have forgotten, I don't know her. We're not even friendly friends!"

"...Friendly friends?" Harry and Hermione repeated.

"You know what I mean!" Ron gave them an exasperated look. "I'm not trying to ask her out or anything. I don't even fancy her!"

"That may be true but what Hermione is trying to tell you is that a simple action can effect a person. You don't even have to say a word. Just smile whenever you see her in the corridors. Don't stare. I've learned that girls don't like it that much."

"Thank you, Harry," a touched Hermione said.

"You're welcome," said Harry in a softer tone.

"Harry! 'Bout time you lot showed up. McLaggen was just-" Ginny started as she approached them, stopping midsentence as well as her stepping.

All of a sudden, she started smirking.

"McLaggen?" an oblivious, concerned Hermione said, frowning deeply.

The Weasleys exchanged knowing glances, smiles still present on their freckly faces.

"Funny they have yet to notice," Ron addressed his little sister, and she snickered.

"Notice what?" said Harry, looking around.

It was then when he finally looked down, seeing that his hand was still occupied, warm and laced with Hermione's. The bookworm followed his gaze, her eyes widening a bit before their eyes met.

Much like the day before, they were quick to separate. Ducking his head and murmuring something about him and his team getting in the air, Harry walked away with flushed cheeks and a tingling hand.

What he didn't see was Hermione's reaction, which had mirrored his own. Her cheeks went the faintest of pink, she holding her own hand as she headed towards the stands, occasionally looking back.

Her own hand that still tingled.

At the mention of McLaggen, Harry automatically kicked him off the field. Depending on who is asked, it could be taken literally or figuratively.

Regardless, McLaggen never showed up again, but he would try to corner Hermione after practice was over. This brought out the protectiveness of Ron and especially Harry. McLaggen would barely get out a complete sentence and Harry would come around the corner, silencing him with a dangerous look in his green eyes; by the time Harry towed Hermione off the field, the Weasley siblings gave McLaggen their death glares before finally exiting as well.

"Harry, your inner boyfriend is showing," Ginny teased under her breath, and it took all of Harry's control to not come up with a sarcastic remark.

Later, when they were all eating dinner in the Great Hall, Hermione turned to Harry, who had barely touched his spaghetti.

"I can take care of myself, you know," she said to him quietly, cupping her cheek in her palm.

He sighed, angling himself towards her. "I know. I just don't like him."

"I don't either."

"That's a relief."

They smiled at each other.

"How have your meetings been going with Dumbledore?" asked Hermione, now using her fork to stir around his spaghetti. He didn't mind it when she rolled up the noodles and lifted the fork to her mouth; her actions distracted him momentarily.

"Alright," said Harry, shrugging his shoulders. "He's been showing me some memories from the Pensieve but-" he paused, opening his mouth as she lifted her fork to feed him, chewing and swallowing the delicious food down before continuing, "I think he wants me to get closer to Slughorn."

"Why?" asked Hermione, her lips parting to so he could do the same.

"Something about getting a memory," said Harry.

"Hm..." Hermione hummed in thought as she chewed. "It's Dumbledore, so I reckon this memory must be important if it's going to help you into defeating You-Know-Who." She took a sip of her pumpkin juice.

"I reckon so too. Slughorn was teaching when my Mum and Dad were here. Chances are he was here when Voldemort was too."

"Right."

They took turns feeding each other-as well as trying to steal food off the other's plate-before it was time to go. Harry returned to the Common Room with Ron and Hermione went to go get ready for her patrol. Before she went, she made sure she got her hugs from both of them.

Drago met up with Hermione at their usual spot.

"Granger."

"Malfoy."

Giving each other nods, they headed down the first corridor in mutual silence, both absorbed in their own thoughts. Hermione noticed that he wasn't wearing his usual sneer, but a blank expression that she couldn't exactly decipher.

He shocked her when he broke the silence first.

"You know all those times I called you a Mudblood?"

She cautiously answered, "Yeah..?"

"I'm, er, sorry about...yeah."

She suddenly had the urge to laugh, and before she knew it, she was laughing, and his look of confusion quickly turned into his infamous glare.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing...sorry...it's just..." Her laughter died down, and she brushed a tendril curl out of her face. "You...apologizing is...mind-boggling. It's strange hearing it from you."

"Good strange, bad strange...or Loony strange?" asked Draco, and Hermione had to giggle. They both erupted in uncharacteristically genuine laughter together, she slapping his arm and exclaiming, "That's not nice!"

Their laughter died down some, and Hermione said, "Luna falls into the good strange. There's more to her than you give her credit for. As for you..." She turned the corner, "I'm not sure about-..."

Hermione froze.

Draco nearly ran into her. "Granger, why in Salazar's name did you just stop in the middle of the damn-?"

"Shush!" Hermione hissed, grabbing him by the robes and pointing ahead. "Look there."

Draco obliged, drawing his wand. "Lumos."

Wands drawn, the Slytherin prince and the Gryffindor princess began following the pale silhouette that seemed to be drifting aimlessly through the corridors. Speeding up to get a good look at who it was, they were both a bit taken aback to say the least when they realized the mysterious figure was-

"Lovegood?"

Luna's stare was blank, swaying in her walk as if she was skipping. Hermione reached her side first, hand on the small girl's bare arm. "Luna? Luna, love?"

Luna made no sign of hearing her, and Draco helped hold her back from traveling another foot, maintaining a firm grip on her arm. "What the bloody hell is wrong with her?"

"Of course!" murmured Hermione to herself, then answered him, "She's sleepwalking."

"-oh God-Really?"

"Coming, Mother..." Luna sang, her voice soft and more dreamy-like than normal. Eerie. It sent shivers down Hermione's spine.

"Well go on-wake her up!"

"Quiet! I'm thinking..."

"Well, think faster!"

A flickering torch nearby wavered, and Hermione's gaze flickered in that direction. Something shimmered, and she narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"Hang on..."

Hermione stalked towards the wall, and before she could grab at the air, she heard footsteps skid to the left.

Hermione lunged, barely missing, but she ran after the pair of black converse shoes she could now see that was desperate to get away from her, and smiled. With one last attempt, she jumped again, this time slamming into an invisible body and sending them both pummeling to the ground in a tangle of limbs.

The body was masculine, very much so, warm, and familiar. Huffing, she yanked the cloak down and a face popped out, his hair as untidy as ever and his green eyes up to mischief. "Harry!"

Harry smiled back up at her. "Hi there."

"Potter," Draco spat out of habit as the two walked back to where he stood with a squirming Luna.

"Pleasure to see you too," said Harry.

"What is he doing here? I should report him-"

"No, I bet Harry has a perfectly good reason to be out at this hour!" snapped Hermione. She pulled Harry a little to the side and clarified, "There is a perfectly good reason to be out at this hour, right?"

"Yes, Dumbledore," whispered Harry, and they stood up straighter, she pleased with his answer.

"Must go to Mother, Daddy...must help..."

"I saw Luna so I began to follow her. Make sure she's alright," Harry told Draco. "She told me once that she tends to sleepwalk. That's why she wears shoes to bed-" He pointed to Luna's bare feet-"but it looks like someone stole them again."

"...Why is he looking at me when when he's saying that?"

"Must help...must help Mother, Daddy..."

"Alright, how do we shut this bloody loon up?"

Hermione regarded him darkly as Harry thought.

"Say something that will snap her out of it. Make her go back to sleep."

"Why haven't you done anything?"

"I have, but no matter what I say-"

"She won't wake!" Hermione sighed. "You try something."

"Me?" Draco deadpanned.

"Yes, you," said Harry.

"Be gentle," reminded Hermione.

Draco groaned. How he got himself in this situation, he hadn't a clue. He thought about what he could do, and settled for something...nicer. The Slytherin grasped Luna's arms, turning her to him, and leaned down to whisper in her ear, "Luna." It was as soft as a caress, yet made him want to vomit.

But it worked.

Luna stopped moving, her eyes fluttering. "Draco..." she whimpered his name, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as her body slackened, finally falling limp in his arms.

Fast asleep.