Guilty
by Ydream08
Chapter 4
She hated zippers. Her raincoat had zippers on its hoodie as if that made sense! And the front zipper –the main one- came up until it covered the level of her nose. No wonder her hair got caught up in both.
Crying in pain and annoyance, Hermione considered just ripping her hair away from the cursed coat!
"Let me get that," came a voice and all of a sudden hands replaced her own and a familiar grin occupied her sight. She couldn't see higher than his lips, with how her head was stuck.
His cologne was faint and he smelled sweaty- not that it bothered her. Not much anyway. It was normal, with how he had probably only recently come back from work. Auror training was as physical as was magical.
"You never change," he muttered, his smile never dropping. Hermione scowled, even as he took half a step back to admire his handy work and put her hair back her ear. She prayed she hadn't flushed scarlet.
"My hair never changes, more like it." She huffed. It was not a matter of joke. Sometimes her hair drove her nuts.
"It's what makes you, you." He shrugged, his eyes lingering on her again.
He scratched the back of his head and looked away. "I better take a shower, Weasleys await."
She never heard the crash of the book that had slipped from her fingers.
"You sure you're alright there, Hermione?" came the voice of her rescuer.
It was him who had caught the book before it had fallen, apparently. Seeker reflexes, and all.
"Perfectly fine!" Hermione insisted. She was a bit annoyed that she couldn't find any reference to cures –potions, spells, rituals, anything- that could help a mind broken magically.
Death Eaters had found her parents before she did, she had found out. Her mother had lost more than memories of her. She understood Neville better now.
Hermione came down the sliding stairs of the library. That book Harry held would be the last one she would look in the Black Library. She would not accept defeat on her research, but there was only so much she could find here. Grimmauld Place didn't have the extensive collection that Hogwarts did. Books were simply nasty here.
"Here you go," Harry handed the book. His fingers touching hers briefly, Hermione cleared her throat to get back a semblance.
These little things were becoming odd for her. As well as seeing Harry. He had grown a stubble and let his hair down, too. It wasn't enough to tie back, but Hermione got the feeling that he aimed for that.
Hermione questioned herself why she liked his new transition instead of mocking this drastic change as she had done the weird cuts she had given him during the hunts.
"Thank you. I'll be off—"
"To read." He smiled.
Hermione stopped in her tracks when she saw how crowded the kitchen table was. There at the corner, Harry was sat with a pile in his own lap skimming the writings.
"What's this?" she asked as she continued with her initial goal: a cup of tea.
She didn't see Harry's eyes flicker up to her but just as quickly turning back to his work. Not hearing a reply, she asked again. She needed to do that frequently these days. He and Ginny had a rough fight at the start of the week, and Harry had been less… attentive, in general.
Hermione was awed he could even function in the auror training. His stubble was getting thicker. She realized how he played with it while reading.
"Homework. Not that they say it is."
Hermione gave a non-committal 'hmm' as she put the kettle on. There was silence as she prepared her tea.
Out of curiosity, Hermione found herself going through the pages, running them down with her eyes. She refrained moving them about. They were mock-cases, some spells and instructions, general rules to follow during emergencies, and whatnot. She eventually came by Harry to look over his shoulder to what exactly he was reading among this mess.
She had not known he would be as messy as her when he studied. Sure, she had taken a glimpse back in fourth year but during Harry was set to prepare for the second task in the library, Hermione was there along with him to bury her nose in books. She had barely noticed his style of research.
"It's in protocol to learn Alohomora wandlessly?" Hermione's surprise jumped Harry. He had forgotten about her, apparently. Hermione leaned over him to get a better look at the parchment, and she couldn't believe her eyes. "It's a rare talent, not everyone can learn it at the drop of a hat! And you're only in training!"
Hermione rose her head at the snicker but coming so close with Harry chased away her annoyance immediately. Her cheeks burned, her arm and hand still feeling warm where they had been contact with him.
She shouldn't have invaded his space. It was just a habit… All those years in school and their research back in the hunt, it had always been normal for Hermione to be in close proximity with her boys.
Well, her and Ron's closeness had ended with sixth year and had only become pathetically awkward in the hunt.
"Are you telling me I'm incapable, Miss Granger?"
Hermione opened and closed her mouth, flustered that Harry would twist her words like that.
"I was just pointing out—"
"An old protocol, Hermione. Back when certain enchanted keys were not invented. And yes, it is a rare talent."
Hermione pursed her lips. "You are the Chosen One."
At that Harry laughed. Another thing that was rare. Something much much more valuable.
"I have already ended Voldemort as the Chosen One, I'm not going to learn wandless magic, too."
"That if you can," Hermione found herself saying automatically and regretted the moment it came out her mouth. She sometimes forgot to think twice.
"You doubt the Saviour of the Wizarding World, oh great founder of SPEW?"
At that both laughed while Hermione tried to stop Harry from recounting every ridiculous idea of hers. Even luring Umbridge to the Forbidden Forest.
"Genius, but ridiculous still. When you said weapon, and I realized you were lying, I thought Hermione Granger finally made the most stupid call of her life."
Hermione's smile was still there. "We pulled it off like always. You got lucky."
"You got lucky, miss."
"You're knitting?" Ginny asked, her face scrunched. She never liked anything house-related. Her idea of independence heavily depended on what Molly Weasley did not do. "And that's wool, Hermione. We're in summer, not winter."
"That's because she will finish it by then," Harry provided with a mischievous smile. It was reminiscent of their old days, but Ron wasn't there to keep the light-hearted jabs.
Ginny shrugged instead and plopped down next to Harry. They had returned from a date. Ginny had finished practice early today.
Hermione could see the tension as Harry awkwardly sat without a word. If it were Ron and Lavender in the same range while sitting, Ron would have had his arm around Lavender and she would have put a hand on his thigh.
Hermione was yet to comprehend that Lavender was gone. Dead. She was not outside of Hermione's doors, living her small life that would seldom intersect with Hermione. That's why it was odd how easily Hermione could mention or remember the girl.
"I'm not that slow!" Hermione found her voice. "It will be ready in two months. It's just a scarf, anyway."
Welcoming the distracting conversation, Harry locked his eyes with her. His nervousness due to Ginny seem to ease. "What excuse do you have for colours, Hermione? Red and green?"
"Christmas colours," Hermione insisted but she smiled nevertheless.
"I'll wear half of it. Gryffindor half." Harry grinned at the roll of her eyes.
"Do whatever you like."
"Don't I always?"
"Mum was asking about you," Ginny asked to change the subject. Change it did.
Second month of Hogwarts was going excruciatingly boring. And lonely. Irritating. Sorrowful.
Why had she thought it was a bright idea?
The number of students had dwindled visibly. Hermione could name the empty seats of the Gryffindor table. Colin Creevey being the one that generally brought tears to her eyes. They had put the photos he had taken to the common room; the muggle photos were all that left of a cheerful boy.
"Problem in paradise," Nott murmured and sat across her. Loneliness gave chance to some interesting friends. Friends that chased away the clouds above her head.
She and Nott only shared dinners together. With how Hermione couldn't sleep till morning and would wake afternoon, that was the only available time. Eighth years were not required of attendance.
Hermione looked down at the Prophecy Nott slid over the table, and she forgot to breathe as she read the headline.
SAVED THE WORLD BUT LOST THE GIRL
It was painfully obvious whom this header belonged to, but Hermione couldn't take her eyes off the wizarding photo that repeatedly played as Harry punched some guy as Ginny gasped in shock nearby.
Skimming the article Hermione saw another photo, claimed to be taken four months back. Mid July. They speculated it was an on-going affair.
"So…" Nott stretched out. Hermione was aware of his calculating glances at her. She was his only friend around here. Only reason people seemed to become immune to his presence, tolerate it even.
Malfoy was not allowed the same courtesy.
Hermione looked up at Nott and found that she had nothing to say. Not a single idea came forth.
"Do you leave? Like now?" Nott questioned. At her silence, an alternative that made sense to Hermione came. "You can owl him?"
"I can do that." It was logical. News like these were hardly correct. She shouldn't jump at the opportunity—
Wait, did she really think that?
Hermione groaned, wanting to kick herself. She would not do something like that. Something like…like taking advantage of the situation. Filling the space Ginny left.
Even though the thought was absurd, it was just as compelling. She felt guilty for that.
Knowing that Nott couldn't read her mind, she tried to convey nothing was a miss. She failed spectacularly; she understood that from the odd look Nott was giving her, but she stared at him regardless and talked about their Transfiguration essay instead.
Three more chapters at most! ~Ydream08