"Sectumsempra!" was all he needed, and there he was, on the ground, bleeding as if stuck directly in the heart. Harry's anger and malice toward Draco Malfoy had reached a breaking point, but this is not what he wanted. He had nearly killed him. There it was for all to see. Snape healed Malfoy and gave Harry detention for the remainder of the year. He was off the Quidditch team and he was banned from further Hogsmeade visits. Worst of all, there was Hermione Granger.

The look she gave him shattered him to his core within an instant. Incredulous, shocked, horrified, nearly looked like she feared him for the slightest moment. He was not helping matters. The chastising he received from both Professors Mcgonagall and Snape were horrific. He could do nothing but sit and take it with his head down. Her, on the other hand, kept him up that night. He was covered to his neck, staring at the ceiling, all curtains pulled around him.

She knew where he'd gotten that spell. She'd known it from the moment she heard what had happened. She had told him to dispose of that book from the very beginning. He thought it had been jealousy of his grades with Slughorn. He had to admit, he may have gone rather far with the bezoar, but all was forgiven after saving Ron's life.

Now, however, he was forced to sit up in his bed, above his covers. He was hot, and his back was starting to hurt. That duel with Malfoy had not been kind to his body, as he felt the aches all across. He didn't bother with Madam Pomfry, he deserved this. He deserved it all. Sure, Malfoy was a bastard, a git, and Harry was still certain he was up to something, but now he had to look at facts. He was obsessed. He'd been following Malfoy religiously, thinking he was planning a crime and all evidence pointed to him. Now, it had come to this.

The curtain slightly opened from the corner of his bed, drawing Harry's attention to it. He straightened his glasses up his nose as he looked toward it and saw indentations on the mattress. In an instant, his invisibility cloak was flung from Hermione and she held up a blue flame lantern.

Harry's hand had been creeping toward his wand until she flung the cloak off, now he just stared at her. She very pointedly kept the lantern lighting up her face so that he could view her expression of utter disappointment. His expression of shame, though, showed her that he had been, in fact, rather hard on himself already. She was sure that he was developing a new bruise on the left side of his forehead, along with a large bump. Come to think of it, as she looked over his body, she saw he was not wearing a shirt, and there were bruises all over him.

"Harry, you're not taking care of yourself." Hermione whispered to him, scooting nearer to him. His eyes went down toward his knees, and he did not speak, nor did he give any nonverbal communication. "I may be disappointed with you, but I… I also understand." She continued, then put her hand on his arm. Of course, she knew he wouldn't go to the hospital. His macho types never did anything sensible. "Good lord, Harry! Look at this, you're cut down your side."

"It's fine." He said and she hushed him with a scowl. "I don't need…"

"Oh, be quiet, you silly boy." Hermione said as she pulled the bottle of dittany from her pocket and slapped a bruise on his leg, causing him physical pain for effect. "On your stomach." She demanded, noting that opposition was not to be tolerated.

With only slight hesitation, he complied. Harry laid on his stomach, his back seemed to have sustained the least amount of damage, but she did not bother asking questions. She simply began to douse her hand and slide them along his skin. His dorsal muscles, deltoids, triceps, forearms, all over she let the potion absorb into his pores.

"I wondered if you wanted to–"

"To what, Harry James Potter?" Hermione was a little louder now, confirming that she had cast the charm from the book that she claimed she didn't want to cast. It enabled free speech without prying ears around them. "To stay with you? After all this time? When Ron got jealous, our lives were almost stamped out by Dementors, Lord Voldemort came hunting for you? You think almost killing Malfoy would make me, what? Hate you? Mind you, if you killed anyone, I would be quickest to forgive for him."

To this, Harry turned and looked toward her, making her turn a bit flushed in the face. "What? I'm not fond of him either. But that's beside the point. Yes, I am very upset with you about that bloody book. And if you do not get rid of it now, you'd better believe I will not be planning to forgive you."

Total compliance at that moment, he was immediately nodding. "Hermione, you now have my permission to burn that book." Harry declared and to his horror, the smile on her face beamed as she removed her wand.

"Where is it?" She whispered with a sudden, devious glee.

"Wait– wait until morning." He waved her down and shook his head in assurance that it would happen when she have him a look. She glowered at him as she put her wand away.

"Very well, but only because of my love for you." She admitted, very much wanting to set fire to that accursed thing right then and there. "Now, turn over."

Once again, he obeyed her wish and got to his back. With some difficulty, he endured her hands on his more grievous injuries. "Sweet mercy, Harry. This is horrible." She now spoke with a bigger tone of worry and dread. That's when her hands went to his head, his chin, his forehead, and he looked at her with his green eyes in the glowing blue light. "Stop being so hard on yourself, Harry. I forgive you. Please, let it go and stop this nonsense."

As her thumb rubbed the bruise away, her other hand reached toward the scar and her thumb ran along it as well. She knew, obviously, that it would never be healed, but this made him close his eyes. "Alright." He said, simply.

She pressed her lips against his, and he put his hand on the side of her jaw. Her lips came back, but then pushed onto his once again as she pushed against him and the bed mattress. He pulled her into him and kept her close to him. By the way he was trying to keep his hands from shaking and the slightly offset breathing, Hermione drew back and looked him in the eyes. She even went so far as to take his glasses off.

"You're a good man, Harry. You're just a tiny bit stupid sometimes." Hermione said as tears streamed down her face. They were just little tears, but against her smiling face, they were beautiful. Harry even found it within him to chuckle at this, as it was rather funny, he just had a hard time admitting it.

He leaned against her once again, this time putting his lips against the side of her neck, something he'd never done before. He wanted to enjoy this moment for the rest of his life. The way she clung tighter against his chest, how her neck leaned against him and her hand ran across his newly relieved back. His injuries were now in a state of faster healing and he found that he had more to be grateful for.

It was so warm by the fire, and her neck. He could even hear her heart beating. Without even realizing it, she began to rock back and forth in his arms. This wasn't the first time they'd snuck into his four poster bed, nor would it be the last time, but they wished that they had more time together, rather than cutting into Harry's sleep schedule. It couldn't be helped, though, not with that giant bat haunting his every Saturday and the already mounting amounts of homework they had. Hermione could only help him so much.

Judging by his body's state, he had also been neglecting something else. As much as he tried to hide it, it was rather difficult, not to mention rather hard to do so. "Harry, really, for Heaven's sake." He was throbbing and she could clearly feel it against her. "You're ridiculous."

"I'm sixteen." Harry reasoned with her and she snorted. "So are you."

"Yes, but I'm not–OH!" His lips cut her off as he kissed and sucked on the side of her neck and she fell into the absolute, most jolting sense of ecstasy. If she wasn't careful, the jolt nearly seemed to send her over the edge. "Harry! Oh God! What are you–Oh my God, do not stop." She whispered, her fingers running through his messy hair. She breathed into his cheek and even licked it slightly, sucking on him for a moment as he did the same to her neck.

That's when she did go over the edge. She squeaked into his ear and her entire body twitched! Her legs could not stay still and her hands could not stay in one place of his body. Her nether regions became hot, and especially damp. It felt so good, it even brought a tear to her eye. All the sudden, the throbbing against her began to affect her differently. All the sudden, she needed to ease him too.

Before he knew what was happening, she touched him. After catching glimpses and a few solid depictions remained in her memory, she'd now gotten to feel the wet, solid shape of his phallus. "Oh my God, Harry." He was so wet with dripping from his tip that she could rub him smoothly with her soft, slender fingers. "It's brilliant." She cooed in his ear before meeting him in another long kiss, only far more invasive and welcome as their tongues slid over one another.

"Oh, God I'm close." He whispered and her breathing was increasing as well as she whispered to him.

"Yes, yes, please." She whispered intently to him. "Oh God yes!" She said suddenly as she felt him twitch and release a hard shot of semen over her hand and on her forearm. "Oh, Harry, yes." She ran her hand over him as he continuously spurted and twitched in her hand. Hermione relished in the mess and his deep warmth. So strange to think that this was his, as her hand dripped.

"Hermione, that was…" He was incredulous! As if he hardly knew her, her face was now flushed hot red.

"You needed it." Hermione reasoned. "Now, you need sleep." She said as she quickly cleaned up the mess. "So do I." She admitted and began to get under his covers. "I'll escape later."

Somehow, none of his bunkmates seemed to notice her when she was there. Or, if they did, they didn't say anything. They knew what he was going through, and it's these little things that meant so much to him. Hermione found it much easier to forgive him, when he promised never to use the textbook again.

She trusted him.