A/N: I adore you all. I realise that we're now on an odd-day schedule but at some point when I'm not totally exhausted, I'll do a 2-in-a-row and get us back on track. The good news is, we have most of our large furniture out of the apartment. The fight is now whether they're going to let us leave free and clear. So everyone cross your fingers. I don't really understand why they wouldn't but apparently...they may not.

-0-

Harry looked up sharply at the roar. While everyone muttered and Professor Flitwick tried to get their attention back, Harry glanced at Ron and they nodded without even speaking. He ummed and ahhed, remembering when Professor McGonagall hadn't allowed them to leave and for a moment he hesitated. When he recalled the feeling in his stomach as he heard the roar, he stood sharply and waved to get Professor Flitwick's attention.

"Yes, Harry?" he asked quietly as he came over.

"We really need to go."

"What?"

"We -"

He couldn't explain it without revealing all the secrets they had to keep and he looked at the Professor desperately.

"Professor?" he whispered. "We need to go."

He watched as the Professor looked sideways at Ron and then at the empty chair beside them and a fraction of understanding crossed his face.

"I will speak to Professor McGonagall later."

"Dumbledore," Ron said quickly as he packed up. "Talk to Dumbledore. Not," he winced. "Just Dumbledore."

Flitwick looked at both of them carefully.

"I can't tell you," Harry hissed. "But don't go to McGonagall. Please. But we need to go now."

"Harry," Professor Flitwick said quietly. "Is anyone in danger?"

"No," Harry said quickly. "I -" He glanced at Ron. It didn't help, he just shrugged. "That was pain."

Flitwick's eyes widened just a little and he bowed a little and stepped back. He magnified his voice to get the class's attention and make their exit easier.

"Hey," Ginny called as they met up close to the bathroom. "Do you -"

"No idea," Harry muttered. "But I know it was her. Also, I think Flitwick might be onto us."

"He's alright though right? Suppose we'll have to tell Dumbledore?"

"Or he will," Harry huffed.

They barged into the bathroom and found Hermione curled up sobbing. Ginny ran to her and pulled her into her arms and held her while the boys stood staring. There was nothing they could do so Ron closed and locked the door setting the spells like she had taught them and they sat beside their best friend, holding her hands for as long as she needed them to.

-0-

Minerva heard the noise while she stood and stared at the place Hermione had been and something inside her crumpled. She fell to her knees and sobbed at the pain in it. She knew what it was, she knew why it was, as well. The Floo activated and she sobbed harder when Albus made a conciliatory noise and knelt beside her.

"Oh Minerva," he muttered, wrapping his arms around her.

"You were right," she hiccupped as she clung to him. "I am downright awful when I am upset," she sobbed. "I just -"

"Minerva," Albus said gently. "You must do better. You," he sighed. "You are hurting her to make yourself feel better." She looked up at him tearfully. "You love her, underneath all this hurt and pain, Min, you love that woman as a friend, fine. As a lover? It doesn't matter. If you truly examined what is in your heart you would only find love."

"How am I supposed to be alright with the idea of loving a child," she looked up in horror. "Bedding a child, Albus," she snapped.

"You do not have to do anything you are not comfortable doing, Minerva. And Hermione has not been a child in either of our minds for a long time," Albus argued. "When you first started training her I saw what you felt long before you did. You could only have done so if your mind and soul saw her as equal."

"What I felt? What on earth are you -"

"You smiled when she was with you, you were visibly relaxed. You are a match, my dear," he shrugged. "You were so happy when you were together. At first, I just thought you were just kindred spirits but after, as I watched you grow into each other, I saw."

"You knew?" She blinked up at him as he wiped away the tears. "You knew this would happen?"

"No," he chided. "I saw a flicker of interest, perhaps," he clarified. "I saw the potential that you both have. And, yes, that was one reason why I suggested just enjoying this friendship and seeing where it went. She compliments your shortcomings and you temper hers as well. You are both intelligent and funny and genuine and loving. There have never been two people better suited for one another, in my opinion."

"I was a bitch," Minerva sobbed. "A downright, callous bitch."

"You must learn to control your temper, Minerva. Please," he begged. "Please take it from someone who understands what it is like to fracture someone's love with anger. You need to control your temper."

"I simply cannot believe that you would support such a union."

"Minerva," he groaned. "You are not listening. You are not a monster, you are not a predator and neither is she. She is an adult in the eyes of the law and her maturity is greater than even my own at times. It is only complicated by the fact that she remains a student here, but even so," he cupped her cheek. "She is not much of one anymore and if it came down to it, we would simply have her take her NEWTs and age her out. The only reason I have not suggested it yet is that, as a student, she has some protection here. Even so, she is more like an intern anyway. Professors and interns sometimes make the greatest of unions." She felt him watching her and looked up. He stared for what felt like an age before he spoke again. "The eyes tell a story that the brain cannot always elucidate, Min."

"Her eyes are -"

"Minerva," he chuckled sadly, cupping her cheek. "Not her eyes, dear heart, yours."

Minerva faltered and stared up at him. She could feel her hands shaking and he took them once more and knelt beside her. He squeezed her hands gently while she contemplated that notion.

"Albus, I would -" She took a deep breath. "When I look at her I am confronted by that small child with frizzy hair and overgrown front teeth! How do I separate that from someone that I'm supposed to end up with - putting that whole issue aside."

"I think you are making too much of that," he said gently, putting her off as she went to argue. "But it is easy to put aside the child that someone once was, in order to befriend or love the adult they become once you decide to do it, my dear."

Her ire flared and she threw off his hands venomously.

"Don't speak nonsense, Albus, what on earth do you know of it?"

His hand did not return and she groaned into the air.

"Albus -"

"I know little of romantic love, my dear," he said in that perfunctory way. She looked up as he stepped away but he did not allow her to reach for him. "But I know much about putting aside the child and loving the adult they become." He stepped towards the door and opened it before he turned back to look at her. "I could not love you as I do if I had not."

She closed her eyes as the door snicked shut and stared at the ground endlessly. She had no idea what to do or how to do it, so she opted for nothing. She had no clue how long she'd been sitting there but a clearing throat disturbed her thoughts.

She blinked up at Michael who was watching her carefully.

"You're back?"

He looked at her for a long time, before he seemed to come to a decision.

"Minerva," he said gently, but firmly. "You need me. And it is time for dinner if you're so inclined?"

She waved it off and settled with her back against the sofa, looking up at him.

"Why did you allow her in here?" she whispered, already guessing the answer before he said it. "Why," she shrugged. "Any of it?"

"Because she was entitled to be," Michael shrugged. "I did not know why," he clarified before she turned away. "I do not have that capacity, but I knew she should be allowed in here. And in whatever capacity I do have, Minerva," he shrugged. "She loves you. Even I can see that."

Her anger flared and she scoffed and retreated into her bedroom, slamming the door shut on the rest of the world as she decided that for once, they could all deal with whatever it was, on their own.

-0-

Harry, Ginny and Ron had done all they could to comfort Hermione, until long after it had gone dark.

"We need to get back to the Common Room," he whispered to Hermione as he stroked her hair. "It's dark now though, and after dinner. There will be fewer people around.

Hermione nodded and they helped her up and walked her back up to the Towers. They met very few people on their way and they managed to get into the Common Room without arousing too much suspicion seeing as the Second Years seemed to have started scrapping in front of the fire.

"I'll deal with it," Ron muttered as they saw what was going on.

"I've got her," Ginny nodded, taking Hermione's weight from him.

He watched them ascend the stairs and only looked over to check Ron was fine before he went and fetched his broom and flew up there as well.

By now, the girls weren't all that bothered by his presence in their bedroom, especially once Pavati nodded him over to Hermione's bed and they drew the curtains around it. They were a good bunch, really, though he was fully prepared for the rumours to begin.

"Hey," he muttered quietly. "We're here, it's okay."

"She hates me."

"Nah," Ginny muttered. "She doesn't."

"She does, Gin. You didn't hear her," Hermione whispered. "She said I was just a -"

"Just a what?"

"I don't know, I left before she could finish but the horror on her face was enough. I can feel things now, like bits and pieces, you know," she said to Ginny. "But it's," she hiccupped. "It's so much, but she just blames me," she sobbed properly and Harry's heart broke as he watched. "She blames me for this, but I'm the one who was shot. I'm the one this happened to. Why can't she see that?"

"I don't know," Harry muttered, pulling her into his arms. "I just don't know."

They sat for a long time until Hermione had fallen into a tentative sleep and Harry kissed Ginny's cheek without thinking and left them to it. He apologised to the rest of the dormitory as he left and slid down the stairs to the bottom where Ron was waiting; playing Exploding Snap with Seamus.

"Alright?" he muttered as Harry joined him.

"Not really. Who's winning," he asked louder to try and take the focus off the spectacle.

Eventually, everyone went up to bed and Harry was left alone by the fire. Even Ron had apologised and left him but Harry wasn't at all bothered by that. He groaned and pulled out a piece of parchment he'd been carrying. His new letter to Sirius. He found it worked so well the first time that he'd done the same again. He kept adding to it when it took his fancy.

He wrote whatever he thought until he was so confused he couldn't stand to do it anymore. Instead, he threw down the quill and grabbed his hair and pulled a little bit, hoping for some clarity.

"Many an evening," Dumbledore's voice shocked him. "I have wanted to do that, my boy. It seems we are quite similar in our choice of best friends, again."

Harry laughed in relief and slumped back on the sofa.

"I don't get it," Harry muttered. "I don't even know what's happening and I don't get it."

"I know." Dumbledore groaned as he sat down beside Harry. "I do know what's happening and I still don't understand," he chuckled.

Harry looked sideways at him and waited for him to look over.

"I cannot tell you," he said apologetically. "It is something they must understand and come to on their own. If they decide to share it, then it will be their decision."

"But it is about them?"

"Oh," Dumbledore laughed unhappily. "Undoubtedly."

"She loves her, doesn't she," Harry whispered. He didn't clarify who he was talking about. He hadn't intended to make it sound as ambiguous as it did but Ginny had been teaching him the art of asking careful questions and he rather thought it was working.

"Harry," Dumbledore chided. "I did just say I would not be explaining."

"Well, that's as much of an answer as anything isn't it." Dumbledore stared at him for a long time and then laughed.

"You are learning, my boy," he chuckled. "I see Miss Weasley is helping?"

"I understand more when she tells me," Harry blushed, scratching the back of his neck. "Hermione's a bit full on sometimes."

"I understand," he nodded.

"Professor?"

"I wonder if you might find it in yourself to call me Albus, dear boy? I think it is time, considering all that is going on, don't you?"

"Um," Harry blinked and felt his palms sweating. "I will try. Professor McGoangall said that I should call her by her name too. That's," he winced. "Haven't really done that yet."

"In time, it will get easier."

"Can I ask you a strange question?"

"Of course," Albus smiled. "I find strange questions offer the most intriguing answers."

"Why do people fall in love? It seems to me, more often than not, people just get seriously hurt." He thought of Ginny and though he definitely had feelings for her, the scope of them scared him.

Dumbledore - Albus - sighed.

"Love is." He chuckled and Harry couldn't help but think it sounded a bit sad. "Love is such a complicated emotion, dear boy. Real love, true love, can drive us to do such silly things sometimes. It makes fools of everyone. It reminds me, there is an old Muggle saying, love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth."

"That's -"

"True and yet entirely ridiculous," Albus chuckled. "Love is all of those things, but it is also all of those things that it says it is not. Love has such capacity to make someone the happiest they will ever be and yet it also has such capacity for such deep and unending pain that it can change the course of someone's entire existence. It is absolutely not always patient. It can demand satisfaction at that moment and not a second later. It can be the most enviable and makes you want to scream from the rooftops that you are in love. It is all of those things and none of them and despite my many years, Harry." Harry looked up into his eyes. "I understand it less and less as every single day goes by."

"Why would anyone want that," he whispered.

"Because it is the greatest of feelings, Harry. Beyond anything in the world. Any magic we have in our very fingertips -" He demonstrated by making a small, golden heart appear on his palm. "It is greater."

"I don't understand," Harry sighed. "I really don't. I knew they were different, like." He scrubbed at his face. "They work, you know? I don't even find it weird cos they're just always together. I know some people do, but it's -" He paused and shook his head. "It's them and I don't see why they can't just -"

"That, my darling boy, is exactly the frustration I have as well." Albus chuckled. "But it is equally not for us to judge. They will come to it on their own and we, as their best friends, will hold them when they cry and comfort them when they are sad and rejoice in their happiness when it is time to."

"I can't imagine -" He realised he'd better not say her name. "Your best friend crying," Harry muttered.

"Oh Harry, if only you knew," Albus chuckled.

"Can we," he paused. "Can you stay a bit longer?"

"I have all night, dear boy."

Harry settled into the sofa cushioned and worried on his thumbnail.

"Can we talk properly?"

Dumbledore put up a silencing spell and turned to face him.

"We can now, what's on your mind?"

"Slughorn won't talk to me. I've tried to get him to talk but he just brushes me aside. I don't really even know what happened last time that was different but I have been going after school and kind of just chatting with him. Except it's not working but Hermione said I have to keep doing it?"

"It would help greatly if we knew what Horace told him, Harry. I would like for you to keep trying, but if you truly do not want to, I will not make you."

"You won't?"

"No," Albus said quietly.

Harry looked at him and found him staring back at him carefully. It suddenly occurred to him what the issue was.

"Do you," Harry shrugged. "Want to talk about," he bit his lip. "The Dursleys?"

It was only because he'd been studying Dumbledore for years that he caught the tiny look of surprise on the Headmaster's face. It was fleeting and small, but it was there.

"I confess I have not yet brought it up because there is nothing I can say to you, Harry, that would excuse my behaviour over it. I can only apologise to you and to do so seems so inadequate that I cannot quite find the words to do so."

"You don't have to apologise," he said quietly. "It's alright."

"It is not alright, Harry. Nothing about that is alright. I have had time to sit with it and I have realised that nothing I do or say can ever make it right. And for that, you have my unending apologies."

"Sir, Professor," Harry took a deep breath. "Albus." The headmaster paused and met his eyes but Harry didn't look away. "They were some people that housed me for a while. And for a long time, I didn't understand and for a long time, that was worse than anything that they could do or say. But now I do understand? I don't feel so bad about it anymore."

"Harry -"

"No, listen. I made a family when I got here. The Weasleys, Hermione, I mean," he blushed a little. "You and Professor McGonagall, I guess. I don't need The Dursleys anymore and I won't miss them. If I have to go back there again, I'll," she shrugged. "Manage. Because the last thing I want is for someone to get hurt because of me and if it helps keep a few people safe while we figure this out, then, of course, I'll do it. I just don't want people feeling sorry for me, or feeling sorry for things they did when there weren't any other options."

"Harry," Albus sighed. He said it so sadly that Harry looked at him sideways but after a time, he chuckled and sat up. "Many people probably tell you that you are just like your mother." Harry's eyes widened. "But sometimes, my boy. You remind me so much of your father."

Before Harry could ask, Dumbledore - Albus - kept talking and Harry settled back on the sofa and took it all in. The knowledge he gained was a greater gift than anyone had ever given him and when Albus finally fell quiet, Harry's eyes were shining.

"Thank you," he croaked. "For telling me all that."

"Minerva reminded me that at no point did we ever really discuss them," Albus nodded. "And now I know what I do about the Dursleys, I have no doubt you have many questions. I will do my best to answer them whenever you have them, dear boy. But for now," he said, pulling out his pocket watch. "It is surely time we went to bed."

Feeling a little brave, Harry looked over at the watch that had fascinated him for so long.

"Does that thing actually tell you the time?"

"No," Albus chuckled. "But it is a good talking point and adds to the air of mystery about my person. There's a small Tempus charm inside the case."

Harry laughed and bit it back when it echoed around the room, and then laughed again when he thought about it.

"Thanks, Albus," he whispered as he got up with a yawn.

"You are quite welcome, Harry," Albus said quietly as Harry shuffled away to bed. "Good night."