Harry heard her coming up the stairs a full minute before she arrived at the Hospital Wing's doors. Her heartbeat was as familiar to him by now as his own, and that scent… that scent he craved, that he almost needed like he needed air.

He hastily put on some actual clothes to distract himself, and because he was not going to have A Talk with her half-naked and using his bedsheets for cover.

Just as he was about to sit on his mattress to wait for Hermione to enter, he saw the doors open quietly in the dark. To his astonishment, he didn't see her — there was nothing.

He smelled her, also a potion or something she was carrying, he heard the blood rush in her veins and the rustling of her own robes, but his eyes didn't see a bloody thing.

Maybe Disillusionment Charms really were his Achilles' heel?

"Hermione?" he whispered.

"I'm here." When her face appeared out of nowhere, he wanted to slap himself.

His cloak, of course.

Well, there was a reason his friend was known for being the clever one of the trio, Harry mused. Why hadn't he thought of that before?

"Are you okay?" She looked toward Madame Pomfrey's office door, knowing the school matron was probably sleeping on her field bed again, since she technically had a patient right now.

"Yeah, the Charm keeps me grounded, and the migraine is gone. I'm utterly bored, to be honest."

She turned back to him. "I can imagine. I'm so very sorry that I had to leave, Harry, I didn't want to."

He shook his head, hoping she could see him clearly in the darkness. "No, you're not at fault. Thank you for… just being there when I was down." He blushed, trying to stop himself from spouting all the things he had on his mind all at once.

This was the first time since the attack that they both were able to just talk.

"About that…" But Hermione stopped, turned to Pomfrey's office again, and cast a Quietus charm, and a Colloportus at the Hospital Wing's entrance. "That's better."

He watched her remove his cloak from her shoulders before she handed it to him. "I hope you're not angry that I borrowed it without asking. I thought it was the best way to get here undetected."

"Hermione, you don't have to ask to borrow it, not ever." He let the smooth fabric run through his fingers and enjoyed the tingling sensation it caused. Somehow, he couldn't feel any details in the cloak's fabric, couldn't pick out single threads or irregularities in the way it was woven.

But he filed this mystery away for later.

"So," he said, hoping she would take the initiative.

"So." She hopped onto the bed and sat down at his side, filling the air with her scent, and the smell of her freshly washed hair. Harry had to fight to keep himself grounded in the presence, silently cursing himself for being a creep.

"I guess we need to talk about… you know." He sighed. "That you touched me… and that I stopped screaming."

"In so many words, yes." She looked at him with wide eyes. "What the bloody hell happened there, Harry? And I'm not talking about the invisible attackers, by the way."

He grimaced. She knew him too well, he would have used that opening to stall a bit more, hoping to make sense of all the feelings and words tumbling around in his head. "Alright."

"Talk to me, Harry." She bit her lower lip as she waited for an answer, and he had to look away.

"I… I don't know if I can really explain it, Hermione." Harry closed his eyes, feeling her very presence with his other senses. "You have probably a good idea how well I can sense everything around me now. I heard you coming up the stairs a minute before you arrived. I know what's for breakfast before I'm even down on the third floor, and I can hear the Owlery from the Common Room if I want to."

She absorbed his words silently, waiting for more.

"Thing is," he continued and felt another blush that the darkness would hopefully hide from her non-enhanced eyes, "I can do that with you… better than with anyone else. Or anything else. I sense you all the time when you're in my vicinity. You anchor me in some way. But I don't know why, Hermione, I really don't."

"Is that the reason why you're constantly sniffing me?" she quietly asked.

Harry gasped. So much for his dirty little secret!

"Did you really believe I hadn't noticed?" He saw that she was as embarrassed as he was, but she soldiered on. "I didn't know what to think, really."

"Hermione, I…"

She licked her lips, and Harry lost his train of thought completely.

"See? That's another thing. You're always staring at my lips, Harry."

He swallowed hard and looked away again. How was he supposed to respond to that? He was awful with stuff like this! Nobody had taught him how to verbally address the concept of… attraction. To his best friend, of all people.

Harry flinched when he felt her grab his hand, but he felt it stopping his mind from spiraling further.

"Does this help?" Her voice was even quieter now. "This one I also do know about, thankfully, even though I don't know the reason why."

He breathed and felt his panic ebb, focusing on the calming influence of her touch.

Being annoyed at himself, Harry finally managed to open his mouth again. "I'm sorry about that, Hermione. I don't mean to leer at you, it just happens. I can't seem to help myself, and I feel like a complete tosser about it because you're my best friend." He looked at their folded hands. "I promise to do better."

"I'm not sure that promise is actually helpful," she said. "Your control over… this is shaky at best, and I don't want you to feel uncomfortable around me. I know you're not a creep, Harry, but it is distracting to get looks like that from you, to be perfectly honest."

He didn't know how to respond to that. Did she understand him that well?

"I can't help it", he whispered. "I'm completely lost, Hermione."

But her bold streak continued. "Do you… Do you fancy me?"

Harry was sure that she would feel his exploding heartbeat in his hand now since his entire body went into overdrive. He was in way over his head, but there was no way out.

She waited, patiently, still holding his hand.

He squeezed his eyes shut. "I don't know."

Her heartbeat increased at his words, as did her breathing. Then she suddenly removed her hand, and he felt like a man lost at sea without a lifeline.

When he dared to glance at her, expecting to be chewed out, her eyes were already fixed on him. They were soft, though. "Okay. Let's leave it at that for now."

"Huh?" was all his stupid mind was able to conjure in response.

"I said, let's leave it at that, Harry. For now. You're in an incredibly bad situation, and we need to figure out why your senses are so hyperactive, and how to control them. Or why I apparently can help you focus. So this… let's table it for now?"

He couldn't believe her, couldn't believe how well she took all of it, or that she would accept it so easily and offer him a way out. In fact, it made his inner Gryffindor angry at himself for being such a coward. To his own astonishment, Harry suddenly felt… bold. "Is that the same thing you told Ron, or did you guys finally resolve whatever it is you had since last year?"

It wasn't fair to ask her that, to make it an accusation, but he couldn't let her carry all of that on her own. Honestly, he didn't care a lot about what Ron's true intentions toward her were right now, this was about his own needs.

There would be a time to feel shitty about sort of going behind his friend's back, but this wasn't it.

Hermione blinked. "How did you know that?" she whispered, completely gobsmacked.

"Sometimes you forget that I've known you for as long as you've known me, Hermione." He clenched his hands. "And everyone in the bloody castle knows something is going on between you two, Lavender or not."

"I… didn't realize."

Harry didn't quite believe her, but he was done attacking her. There had been enough bickering and sniping this year to last a lifetime. "I'm sorry if I'm an arsehole right now, and yes, I know, language." He looked at her again, drinking her in. "But… ignore that I'm messed up right now. What… what do you want, Hermione?"

There was a long stretch of silence in the Hospital Wing as they stared at each other in the darkness.

He sensed her finding the courage to answer before she said anything, hearing saliva rush in her mouth and the quiet breath she drew to steel herself. "I think… I think I'm a mess too, Harry. I have no idea."

That was not what he'd expected.

"Well, in that case, I won't feel so bad about my current situation then," he quipped.

She grabbed his hand again. "Do… do you think I'm making a mistake?"

"Err… what do you mean by that?"

But Hermione shrugged, seemingly overwhelmed. "I don't know, Harry. Everything?"

He got her meaning and knew what she was feeling right now, with things being so complicated and messy and nobody around to tell them how to do this, how to be a student and fight Voldemort and also be a bloody emotional teenager at the same time. And now this whole hypersensitivity thing came on top.

"Then let's figure this out together. If you can so easily accept me being… distracted all the time, and that I need your help more than ever before… what kind of friend would I be to leave you on your own?"

She teared up at his words and bumped his shoulder. "Sometimes, you're way too empathic for your own good."

He smiled.

This wasn't resolved, not really, but the awkward tension was over, and that felt nice.

Emotionally, this was about as much as they were able to digest tonight, he decided. There was no need to continue this dangerous path — not when there weren't actual Unforgivables being flung around.

"Friends?"

She nodded. "Friends. Always."

Harry almost teared up himself when she said it like that. Yeah, this was a good time to end things, or he'd make a fool of himself yet again.

"Before I leave you be, there's something super important. I think I might've found a clue as to what your condition is, or rather how you can handle your senses." She reached into her robes and removed a small, green book.

"Oh, that's what I've smelled before, I thought it was a potion," he mumbled.

She looked at him in disbelief. "It's from Professor Slughorn."

"Well, that explains it. But wait… Slughorn?" He shook his head. "How did you even… ?"

"I have my ways." She held it out to him. "Apparently, there are people in South America called Sentinels who have one or a few enhanced senses. All five — like in your case — is rare, but it has happened before."

"That's unbelievable." He flipped through the book, glancing at chapter titles and catching the occasional sentence with the word 'Sentinel'. "Where did Slughorn get this?"

"Professor Slughorn met the author wizard during one of his travels. When I told him I was looking to help you, he gifted it to me."

"Without any ulterior motives, I'm sure." Harry closed the book. "Have you read it?"

"About a third, I just got it a few hours ago." She scowled. "I lost time when I raced here first without the cloak, and when I tried to go back the Common Room was full, and Ron was… anyway, I didn't get very far with my reading."

Harry sighed. "Well, you better finish it. You're way faster than I am anyway."

"Are you sure?"

He nodded. "I can wait another day or two, and you probably won't sleep otherwise, since you'll obsess over what is written in here."

"Prat." She took it back. "Thanks."

He shrugged. "I'll probably also save some time since you'll summarize the contents to me when you're finished, won't you?"

Harry couldn't help but grin as she slightly frowned at him.

~.~.~.o.~.~.~

When Dumbledore walked toward the golden Owl Lecturn at the end of breakfast the next day, the Great Hall went quiet all on its own. Ever since the last Quidditch game, the rumor mill had worked overtime, but few people seemed to know anything concrete apart from the painfully obvious.

Word of the attack on Harry had also reached the Wizarding World, featuring on the Prophet's front page. It was however pure speculation since neither the Ministry nor the Headmaster had confirmed anything.

Students noticed that Dumbledore's eyes were not twinkling, though.

And that some of the Slytherins were glancing at each other rather nervously.

"Good morning, everyone." The Headmaster looked at the assembled students over the top of his spectacles. "If I may have a quick word before you leave for your classes, there are two important announcements."

The silence in the Great Hall was almost deafening.

Dumbledore nodded slightly to himself. "First, Mister Bletchley has left Hogwarts. He will continue his studies with private tutors and only return at the end of this school year for a few days to take his N.E. . The reasons for that are partially private, but I can and will say however that his departure is connected to the recovery of a wand after a heinous attack on Mister Potter and Miss Granger two days ago."

The Headmaster raised his hands as furious whispers erupted across the entire hall. Everyone was trying to take a look at the seventh-year Slytherin students, who were now missing one of their own.

"Please, calm down. That was the first announcement. The other one is that the investigation into said attack is still ongoing." Dumbledore's brows furrowed slightly. "Whoever the second party is that participated and then fled the scene — we urge you to come forward to one of the Professors sooner rather than later. Thank you, that is all."

As Dumbledore returned to the High Table, the Great Hall dissolved into a cacophony of conversations.

At the Gryffindor table, two pairs of eyes immediately went to the far end of the hall, where Malfoy sat almost on his own at the edge of the Slytherin table. He seemed to stare down at the floor, his face a pale mask of barely controlled anxiety.

Draco looked like shit.

"It's him, I'm telling you." Ron squared his jaw. "He probably planned the whole thing and suckered Miles into it."

"Oh, so now you believe that Harry had a point with his 'crazy conspiracy theories'? Color me surprised," Ginny snapped as she made overexaggerated air quotes.

"I never said he was wrong, only that he spent way too much time trying to spy on him!"

She huffed. "You have a funny way of remembering your accusations of him being mental." Then, she turned to Dean and Neville. "What do you think?"

"Before? I was sure Harry was being paranoid", her boyfriend admitted. "Now, though… he has just the worst luck, really. I mean, how often can you get attacked in this bloody castle?"

"Every year, it seems," Neville mumbled. "As for your question, Ginny, I agree. Something's up with Malfoy."

"Good. I think we… "

"Where is he, by the way? Shouldn't he be with us again?" Dean looked around. "And where's Hermione?"

"Good question. They've both missed several breakfasts, or dinners, lately, don't you think?"

Ron glared at his sister. "Why are you saying it like that?"

"Like what?"

"Oh, come on, I know exactly what you…" But he was interrupted when everyone at the Gryffindor table suddenly turned to the Great Hall's entrance.

Hermione and Harry had finally arrived.

He was whispering something in her ear as they walked, and Hermione was smiling.

Both stopped halfway to the table.

"What is it?" she asked, irritated. "Why are you all staring like that?"

~.~.~.o.~.~.~

Professor Babbling had ended class early today, and for once Hermione didn't mind losing out on education. She loved Ancient Runes, but her mind was rather preoccupied with… Harry.

Well, him and his hypersensitivity and… that very tangible thing between them.

She knew he'd given her an easy exit the night before when he'd asked her what she really wanted. First, she'd been too stunned to react, and then she'd been so relieved she could've kissed him — as a friend, of course.

Totally as a friend.

To make matters worse, Hermione didn't know how to react to Ron at the moment. Their truce seemed to be a thing of the past, judging from the encounters in the Grand Staircase and the Common Room, or the dirty looks he was giving her all the time.

But what was she supposed to do, ditch Harry and throw herself at his mercy?

That wouldn't happen. It might've been before this whole crazy episode with Harry had started, but not now. She'd see this through, make sure that he was safe.

Everything else… she'd have to improvise, which was not her strong suit.

As she hurried through hallways and semi-secret passageways, she hoped that maybe, somehow, a miracle would happen and the tension with Ron would resolve itself. Maybe he'd end things with Lavender? Or just come around, same as he'd done during the Triwizard Tournament.

Hermione suspected though that she had better chances of recovering the lost Diadem of Ravenclaw than witnessing Ron being reasonable about the whole thing.

Having reached the fourth floor, she stopped to look around, but there was no one around at the moment to observe her. Hermione walked down the main hallway, took a left turn, and saw the last door on the right being ajar.

Harry was already there.

She knew he'd probably already sensed her, but something in her wanted to try and see what he was doing. Being as quiet as possible, she snuck up to the door.

Inside the small, empty classroom, Harry was sitting on a random desk.

The curtains on the windows were partially drawn. He was holding his wand, which was lit by a Lumos, slowly waving it around like a spoon in cereal. He appeared to be utterly transfixed by whatever it was he was seeing in the Charm, his face utterly focused.

Hermione thought that he looked adorable.

"You know that I can see you, right?" Harry didn't stop his wand waving as he spoke.

"I do. I didn't want to interrupt you." She stepped inside and closed the door. "What are you doing?"

He grinned, still staring at the Lumos. "I can sense magic. Not all that well, and not all the time, but this here… I can feel it. Almost like sunlight on my skin. It's weird but also nice in a way."

She immediately filed that bit away for later research. "That sounds fascinating. This is why you're so good at Charms right now, right?"

"Partially, I guess." Harry dismissed the Lumos and looked at her. "But I can also feel it when someone is about to cast a spell, at least if I concentrate hard. How it manifests in the air, or in a wand." He sighed. "It's not even real sound, or something visual, I think. Something in between, maybe?"

Hermione decided to not tell him about synesthesia right now but to bring that topic up once she'd read Slughorn's book. The prospect of yet another possible aspect of his hypersensitivity was both exciting and exhausting if she was honest with herself.

They had already so much to study if they wanted to make sense of it all.

"Have you talked to Ron today?" Harry randomly asked, eyeing her critically.

"No… why?"

"Maybe nothing. He asked me if you had invited me to go to Hogsmeade with you or something, saying we were acting like a couple."

She coughed, trying to fight a blush. "Well, that's neither here nor there, is it?"

"Maybe." Harry smiled tiredly. "But we need to talk to him eventually, Hermione. I'm not keen on sharing everything… why I'm smelling you, or what your touch does, although that ship has probably already sailed. The rest, though, I think he needs to know about it."

Hermione wasn't happy about it, but she'd agreed for the most part, despite her problems with Ron's current behavior. "Okay, but we need to get him without Lavender or I won't hear the end of it in the dorm."

"Well, the weekend is upon us, I'm sure a good opportunity will present itself."

She sighed. "I hope you're right."

~.~.~.o.~.~.~

"Charlie! Glad you could make it, come in."

The second-oldest Weasley son smiled. "Thank you, Remus." They shook hands as he stepped inside the flat.

"How is Romania treating you? Don't mind the boxes, Tonks plans to remodel the kitchen and I can't seem to stop her." They walked past stacks of packed dishes, kitchen utensils, and other random bits. "Never mind that she's due in a few weeks."

Charlie smirked. "I see. Where is she, by the way?"

"With her parents, I believe Andy wanted to go shopping for baby clothes?"

Both men shuddered. There were things between heaven and earth that men just stayed away from, if at all possible.

"Well, I can offer you some tea at least." Remus motioned toward the small table as he put the kettle on. "Thank you for coming, I didn't know who else to talk to, to be honest."

"Well, you were rather cryptic." Charlie watched him curiously. "You said something strange is happening at Hogwarts that I would be able to help with? What about Albus and the others? The Order is active again, no?"

Remus stared off into space. "For the longest time, the Order would've been my first stop, but I'm afraid it's more difficult." His eyes found Charlie's again. "And Albus… he seems to have his own agenda, and I'm not sure that I'm with him on this."

The dragon keeper frowned. "Did you two have a falling out?"

"Not like that, it's just…" He sighed. "Albus lied to me, and for no good reason, at least none that I can see. And maybe that wouldn't bother me so much if it wasn't related to Harry."

"Merlin, Remus, what is going on?"

The werewolf took a deep breath. "I believe that Harry is on the cusp of awakening as a Sentinel."

Charlie blanched. "That is not something to joke about. You of all people should know that."

"I'm not, please believe me." He stood up and poured both of them a cup of tea. "I felt it the moment I visited Albus a few days ago — Hogwarts has been fully claimed. And since I doubt that a full werewolf pack would be able to settle down within the school without anyone noticing… well."

"So you believe Harry did it? If you're right about this, and I really hope you're not, how is that possible if he hasn't realized his full potential? Can a Sentinel even stake a claim like that if he's not awake?"

"Don't ask me, I'm far from being an expert on these things." He offered Charlie a cup. "Milk? Sugar?"

The redhead shook his head. "No, thanks, I like it black these days."

They sat in silence for a moment.

"So, what is Harry like as an almost-Sentinel? I remember him from the Triwizard Tournament, and he was so young back then… Merlin, my mum will have kittens when she learns about this."

"I don't think a lot of people outside Hogwarts know about Harry's… condition, at least for the time being," Remus mused. "As I said, Albus tried to mislead me. I asked him about Harry and Ron, and he lied to my face about them being just fine. If I hadn't met your sister and Luna Lovegood afterward, I wouldn't know a bloody thing. And the girls were speculating about a lot of things, so Harry hasn't shared everything with them."

"Wait, so you didn't talk to him yourself?"

"No." The werewolf looked down into his cup. "I… I thought about it, but what is there to say, really? I'm not his teacher anymore, and Sirius is dead. There are so many things I should've done years ago, and now… I think it's too late."

"That is utter horseshite, Remus, and you know it." Charlie scowled at him. "If you care about him, you make an effort. That is what being family means."

"Says the Weasley son who lives over 1000 miles away from his parents and doesn't have access to the Floo Network. The only reason you visit England during Christmas is that Molly would just kill you otherwise."

Charlie looked away. "That isn't the same thing."

"If you say so. You're probably right, and I should go to Harry and apologize, but right now I fear we have bigger problems than my lack of courage."

"We?"

"You didn't run away as soon as I used the word 'Sentinel', so I hope you'll help me help Harry?"

"With what?" The dragon keeper put his cup down. "His awakening?"

Remus made a vague gesture. "Maybe? I was hoping you'd have an idea. I'm pants at this, I told you. Furthermore, I'm just a bloody werewolf and most of the time that alone is more than I can handle. Meanwhile, you…"

"Don't say it!" Charlie pointed at him. "Don't you fucking dare say it, you swore!"

"I won't."

"Good."

"I still need your help, though."

"Merlin." Charlie put his head in his hands. "So let me get this straight: Harry is a Sentinel, he is just not fully awake yet. Despite that, he's already claimed Hogwarts as his territory. Also, Albus is trying to cover this up, somehow, for reasons unknown?"

"That sums it up nicely."

The redhead groaned. "Anything else?"

Remus tried to remember what Ginny had told him. "Well, apart from that attack on Harry and Hermione… no, they're not hurt… Ah, yes, Hermione might be Harry's Guide, at least potentially."

Charlie spluttered. "Are you bloody kidding me right now? Remus!"