"You're not serious."

The wise-crack retort that used to be almost a knee-jerk reaction froze on the tip of Sirius's tongue. Now was not the time for him to make a joke, not when Harry's temper was flaring up dangerously. Harry's face had darkened with a red flush that made his eyes seem brighter. The glare Harry angled the apparatus that had been pushed into the room along with Remus was very familiar. Familiarly dangerous. Sirius knew that look well enough to hold his tongue. He knew from experience that a joke would only fan the flames. He and James learned the hard way with Lily. Sirius wasn't going to make the same mistake when her son had inherited her temper.

Harry then turned his burning green eyes upwards to where Sirius stood at his bedside. Sirius grimaced sympathetically. The offending item that had triggered Harry's anger was a wheelchair.

"Your condition is too delicate for any physical exertion."

Head Healer Esther McKinnon had taken her position at the other side of Harry's bed, her face impassive while her eyes remained unseeingly fixed on the floor. Harry's jaw tensed and he looked away from Sirius, his face fully flushing at being called 'delicate'.

"It's for the best, Harry," Sirius said quietly. "You'll be up on your feet in no time."

While that much was true, Harry wasn't out of the proverbial woods just yet. However, a lot of the remaining injuries yet to heal weren't physical. They were emotional, mental and magical. Learning the truth behind his scar had taken a toll and as much as Harry made a valiant attempt to hide it, Sirius could see the strain from the moment he woke up. His tetchy mood was just one indication that there was an internal struggle taking place in his godson. The hollow, distant looks that Harry wore when he fell silent were the biggest warning sign. As much as Sirius believed it was the right decision to tell him the truth, it hurt so desperately to know he was the cause of his pain.

No amount of half-remembered lullabies were going to chase away the threat Harry was living with.

After receiving a thorough check-up from Esther, she shared the news that his heart should be strong enough to maintain its own beat. Having the electrum removed meant he would be cleared for discharge from Intensive Care. The news was bittersweet. While it meant Harry could return to Hogwarts and recover in a much more familiar setting with his friends around him, it meant Sirius would have to leave his side.

Harry sat fully upright, pulling his arms around himself defensively to cross them, brows drawing together in a scowl. In that moment, Sirius was painfully reminded just how young Harry was. Any other child his age and he could dismiss the tantrum as childish foolishness, but he knew that in Harry's case, it wasn't really anger. It was fear. Anger proved to be a reliable mask.

"You will be using the Floo to transfer directly to the Hospital Wing. As you are in a far more stable condition than you were when arriving, there shouldn't be any complications while travelling. That being said, we can never be too careful," Esther's stern voice filled the swelling silence left while Harry seethed. Her words did the trick as Harry glanced up at her, his frown smoothing a little.

"We're going straight to the Hospital Wing?" Harry asked, the furious glare in his eyes dimming as his gaze swept from Esther to Kingsley. "Is that possible?"

"It is for now," Kingsley answered, "the Department of Magical Transportation have set up a secure connection - one-way only so there is no possibility of hijacking the route. Remus will be travelling with you."

Sirius ran his hand over his face, wincing as Harry didn't look over to Remus, but to him. He couldn't meet his questioning gaze, all too aware of the crushing goodbye that was painfully inevitable.

"Sirius?"

Closing his eyes briefly at the tentative way Harry said his name, he confronted the pair of startling green eyes waiting for him. No longer incensed with anger, they were cautious.

"I'm not coming with you," Sirius said thickly, forcing himself to say what he was dreading. "Part of the deal for me coming here was to give myself to Auror custody - to Kingsley's custody, remember? So when he leaves, I have to go with him."

Harry's eyes widened, sitting back against his pillows as his mouth downturned. He let out a deep breath, gaze lowering down as he rested his hands on his lap.

"But doesn't that mean you'll be arrested?" Harry quietly asked. Remus lightly cleared his throat, catching Sirius's attention. Remus's hazel eyes flicked meaningfully over to Harry, lifting his brows. Getting the hint, Sirius moved closer to Harry, reaching for his hands. To his relief, Harry didn't pull away, letting him take his hand. Harry didn't look at him, frowning instead at his hands.

"Yes… it does," Sirius said, startled at how hard it was to speak, his throat feeling tight, "but handing myself in is the best way to clear my name. Only really as a free man can I protect you properly."

Harry blinked, his throat bobbing, keeping his head bowed as he did his best to hide his emotions from his audience. Sirius kept his own under control, his thumb rubbing the back of Harry's hand. Robes rustled as someone approached. Glancing quickly over his shoulder, Sirius met Remus's eye as he moved to stand at his side. He then rested his hand on Sirius's shoulder.

"The law is on our side fully and completely," Remus assured Harry, causing him to peer up through his eyelashes. "But we have to do things properly. An actual trial… this time."

Prickles of deep, unsettling unease threatened to break through Sirius's composure at the mention of a trial. He drew in a steadying breath, feeling Remus squeezing his shoulder.

"A trial might not even be necessary," Kingsley spoke up from where he stood sentry at the foot of Harry's bed. "Fudge may still issue a full pardon… though that could be because he is afraid you'll kill him in his sleep."

Sirius let out a loud laugh, unable to feel anything other than great animosity towards the cowardly scum who nearly had him executed. Coming after him was one thing - but then to later attack and slander Harry? Fudge was bloody lucky that he wasn't a murderer.

"I suppose that reputation is good for one thing then," Sirius said dryly, taking his hand away from Harry's. "The sooner I can clear my name, the better. I don't care how it's done, just that it's done."

"Speaking of which," Kingsley unfolded his arms, reaching in his robes to draw out a silver pocket watch, "we are on a schedule. Amelia is expecting us in her office within half an hour."

"Ah," Sirius said, edging back from the bed, swallowing tightly, "best not keep Madame Bones waiting."

"We will need to leave separately," Kingsley said in his low rumbling baritone, turning to face Sirius, "I'm sorry, Sirius, but you are going to have to say your goodbyes here. With your arrest warrant still in play, I don't want to risk anyone trying to snatch a bounty. It's unlikely… but perhaps it's best to limit public hysteria where we can."

He could feel Harry watching him intently. In the corner of his eye, he saw Harry twitching his hand over in his direction. He moved his hand closer so Harry's fingers could touch his with a brief contact. Just enough for Harry to communicate what he couldn't quite put into words.

Esther flicked her hands free from her sleeves, taking the silence as a signal that they were done talking. She leaned over Harry, catching his attention as she went to lightly touch his shoulder.

"In that case, I shall disconnect the electrum now so we can move onto helping you out of bed, Harry. I expect you are eager to get moving, yes?"

"Um, yes, but…" Harry's eyes darted around, falling then on the chair. His face twitched, eyes hardening as he looked at the offending object again. He then sighed, rocking his head back. "Do I have to sit in that thing?"

"Once we get you on your feet, you'll understand why you do," Esther warned him as her hands deftly went about undoing the buttons of his pyjama shirt. "We may have made progress on your heart, but you still need to recover from your severe magical exhaustion. You'll get your strength back after plenty of rest, but for the moment, you are still very weakened."

Sirius subconsciously found himself curling his fingers around Harry's, assuring him that he was still there for the moment. Harry's fingers moved against his in response.

"Alright, look up at me for a moment, Harry," Esther's voice had settled into the calm, controlled timbre of a professional at work. Harry obediently looked up at her face, his face still flushed. While he was looking at her, she had her wand out, tracing over his exposed chest where white dressings still covered the wound over his breast bone. "It's best to get this done quickly, but it will hurt a little when the wires come loose. I promise it will be brief. Ready?"

Harry nodded, but then winced at his mistake, "yeah, I'm ready."

Esther's wand twitched in two jerks. The black wires leading out from Harry's chest suddenly pinged free. Harry's face scrunched up, pain flashing over his features. His free hand spasmed upwards towards his chest. Esther's hand caught his, holding it. Harry ducked his head down, heaving in a shaky breath as her wand ran over his chest, healing the punctures left behind.

"Take some deep breaths for me," Esther instructed, causing Harry to nod again as he did as he was told. Sirius clutched at his hand, looking upwards to where the electrum now hung inert above them, the pulsing light dimmed. "Does it still hurt?"

"No… no it's gone," Harry said quietly between breaths. He then let go of Sirius's hand, bringing it up to touch the centre of his chest. "I feel dizzy though."

"It will take a few minutes to acclimatise," Esther informed him, "Remus, could you give Harry his water?"

As Remus was right next to the table, he was the obvious choice. How Esther knew that while blind, Sirius couldn't begin to fathom how her awareness worked. Remus handed Harry his cup, who mumbled his thanks, sipping at the water while Esther did his shirt back up for him.

"Are you alright?" Sirius asked Harry the moment he lowered the cup from his mouth. Harry nodded though his eyes had taken on that hollow look as he stared off to the side. He wasn't alright - not at all. He was afraid and scared of showing it.

"We're going to take this slowly, alright?" Esther said softly. "We'll go for some experimental steps and then sit you down."

She pulled the bedsheet down from Harry's legs to help him turn. He tried to move himself, but stopped, sagging over to the side. Sirius moved at once, catching his elbow. Harry's head swooned forwards, his glasses slipping a little down his nose.

"S-sick… I think I'm going to be sick…" Harry mumbled out, his face turning dramatically pale. Esther's wandwork had the matter in hand within a blink. A stainless steel bucket popped into existence at the side of Harry's bed. He clumsily reached for it. Remus pushed past Sirius, reacting faster. He snatched the bucket up, pressing it into Harry's hands. With an almighty retch, the water Harry just drank was ejected out, splashing viscerally against the bottom of the bucket.

"It's okay," Esther said as she appeared right at Harry's side, her hand rubbing his back as he retched again. "I think walking might be a step too far today."

Harry coughed into the bucket, then extracted his head. He looked utterly miserable, his glasses nearly off his face. Before he went to wipe his face with his sleeve, Esther had a handkerchief conjured up ready for him. He took it, wiping his mouth and nose. Harry then tried to balance the bucket on his legs, but his arms were shaking violently.

"W-what's wrong with me?" Harry stammered out, his voice roughened from where he'd been sick.

"I expected we might run into this problem. You're reacting to the absence of the electrum's magic very strongly, that is all. You'll start to feel better, but we are going to have to take this a little more slowly than you anticipated," Esther assured Harry before turning her face over to where Sirius hovered, anguished at Harry's plight. Thawed out by her attention, Sirius walked up to him, hand immediately cupping the back of Harry's head to tilt it back. He placed a kiss on the top of his hair.

"I guess now you really do know why the chair's needed, huh?" Sirius muttered into Harry's ear, causing him to let out a breathy laugh.

"Yeah… turns out the Head Healer of Saint Mungo's knows better than I do. Who knew?"

Harry's sarcasm was greatly reassuring. It pulled at the corners of Sirius's mouth. A subtle glance out of the corner of his eye over to Remus confirmed that his old friend had noticed as well. That dry sense of humour wasn't a trademark of James Potter, prankster extraordinaire. It was all Harry - snarky and as quick as a whip.

"I'm going to move you with a levitation charm, Harry. Try to relax and lean into it when you feel it lift your weight," Esther said, returning them back to business. Harry appeared alarmed at her words, but sighed resignedly. His sickness had clearly humbled him to the point of diminishing his temper back down to slightly warm embers.

Remus's hand lightly brushed Sirius on his back, catching his attention before twitching his chin to the side. Understanding, Sirius moved back to give Esther space to guide Harry safely into the wheelchair. Her combination of assertiveness and sympathy appeared to get through Harry's stubbornness as accepted his fate, his cheeks pink with embarrassment when her charm lifted him up only a couple of inches from the bed. From how mortified Harry was at being a passenger of a simple levitation charm, Sirius was relieved that he couldn't recall anything from his arrival in the hospital. The ordeal was over in seconds, ending with Harry sitting ridiculously rigid in the chair as if expecting it to attack him if he relaxed.

"Place your feet on the rest there, Harry," Esther told him gently, reaching down to take his left calf and move his leg in place. Harry flushed a deeper shade of pink as he hastily put his right leg in place before she had to help him any further. "I'll fetch you a blanket."

"No, I don't need-," Harry began to protest but was soon silenced by a small smile on the woman's face as she turned from him. He slumped back against the chair, miserably going to pick at his pyjama sleeves. With a sheepish glance up to where Sirius and Remus stood behind him, Harry admitted quietly, "I suppose I'm a bit cold."

Sirius stepped towards Harry and placed his hand on Harry's shoulder, feeling him shaking under his touch. Harry brought a trembling hand up to push his glasses back in place on his nose.

"Hey, you've got nothing to be ashamed about," Sirius told him under his breath. "You're not weak, alright? Just because you're feeling rough doesn't make you weak."

Harry sighed, ducking his head down. "I know… I just thought I was doing better."

"You are," Remus insisted from where he stayed close to Sirius's side, "you just need to take it easy and know your limits. Once we get you settled under Poppy's care, I'm sure you'll start feeling like yourself again."

Kingsley moved from where he'd been standing guard, checking his pocket watch again. Sirius winced as he watched him in the corner of his eye. Time wasn't on their side. He headed over to the table beside Harry's bed where his cup of water had been returned. Waiting next to it was Harry's wand. He picked it up, handing it over to Harry who watched with watery eyes. Solemnly, he took his wand back.

"Feel any better?" Sirius asked him. From the brief flash of surprise on Harry's face, he could tell that he did. Harry nodded, raising his chin. Sirius smirked in response. "A wizard is only his true self when holding his wand."

"Don't be using it, however," Esther sharply said as she returned, clutching a woollen blanket. Harry lifted his arms so she could unfold it and tuck it over his legs. "No magic until told otherwise, yes?"

"Okay," Harry said quietly, resting his arms on his lap, holding his wand with both hands. "I can feel it now though. It's coming back."

"A few days of rest with plenty of food and sleep is all you need now," Esther assured him. "I'm afraid the Auror Office needs to keep your clothes as evidence."

"They're probably messed up anyway," Harry said in that awful subdued tone that was very unlike him. "I don't remember much of what happened after I took the curse, but considering what it did to me, I can imagine my robes didn't do so well either."

"You don't remember?" Sirius asked, worried. He knew Harry's memories were patchy surrounding his heart attack, but not about before.

"I remember waking up and deciding to come here," Harry admitted with a small shrug, "but there are gaps."

"It's normal to expect some confusion with your memories," Remus said, not appearing as worried as Sirius felt. "Not all injuries are visible and can take a mental toll. A lot has happened and it's going to take some time to process it, but we're all here to help you."

The smile Harry gave in response was wan and small, but a smile nonetheless. The relief it gave Sirius was short-lived as Kingsley shifted closer to him, his body language giving Sirius the unwanted news that it was time for them to leave. Sighing, he faced the Auror, nodding at him to show that he was all too aware that he had to face the next battle and leave Harry behind. He stepped around Remus, his heart giving a twinge at the sight of the tired resignation on Harry's face as he looked up at him.

"It's time for me to set the record straight," he said gruffly as he rested his hand on Harry's shoulder. His fingers curled around to the back of his neck, but he didn't go to hug him, careful and considerate of his fragile condition. Harry brought his hand up, his touch warm and gentle as it rested on top of Sirius's hand.

Harry's smile then grew, brightening his eyes. They flicked between Sirius's, watching him closely, as if confirming that he was truly there.

"Go and kick Fudge's arse for me, will you?"

Sirius's own smile bloomed in response as a laugh barked out of him. Kingsley chuckled behind him and Remus let out a laugh or two as well, the hard glint in his eye giving away that he was very much in favour of Harry's request.

" That, my dear godson, I will do gladly."

Making the most out of the sanctuary and solace of the Hogwarts Library, Hermione delved in deep with research. With all the exams concluded and classes finished for the term, her project had nothing to do with homework as there weren't any assignments set. Instead, the tomes that she had selected, arranged in a next stack next to her, all had one topic in common.

Magical bonds.

The subject drew her in with greater curiosity that she anticipated when she decided to see if there was anything more to what Sirius had said to her about the life debt between her and Harry. Could his selfless act have truly bonded them together? She suspected that there was something more than the symbolism behind life debts for her feelings towards Harry had greatly changed since the night when he nearly died for her. Her worries and fears surrounding him caused an almost physical pain like an itch that never went away no matter how hard she scratched. Nothing in the books she found explained any physical phenomenon. Most of what she found described Unbreakable Vows and magical oaths, nothing concrete about life debts and bonds.

She began to wonder if Sirius's knowledge on the subject wasn't something that he gleaned from his time at Hogwarts. His use of blood magic certainly hadn't been something that he picked up in Charms class. Was whatever happened between her and Harry a forbidden subject?

Her musings were interrupted when a shadow suddenly fell over her and the latest book she trawled through for answers. Sighing impatiently, she slapped her hand down on the table. Her efforts to find out more served a dual purpose. Studying in the Library gave her an escape from the whispers and gossips about the castle… and also spared her from Ron's ceaseless circular questions about Harry and the Department of Mysteries.

"For the last time, Ron, I'm done talk- oh Professor!" Hermione squeaked out as she turned to find not Ron Weasley but instead the taciturn Head of her House, leaning on a walking stick. "I'm sorry, I thought-."

"I was Weasley," Professor McGonagall finished for her, the slight glint in her knowing eyes telling her that she was amused and not angered by her outburst. "No… though I will be looking for him next… wherever he is. I've come directly from the Hospital Wing to retrieve you. Potter is waiting for you there."

Hermione was on her feet immediately, gasping in surprise and then joy. Whipping around, she hastily shoved the books in her bag.

"Harry is here? Is he… is he awake?" She managed to pant out as she packed everything away and heaved her bag up on her shoulder. McGonagall's smile was a little too knowing as she surveyed her over her spectacles.

"He is most certainly awake and already complaining about being made to stay in bed - which, you will need to know, he must do under the orders of Head Healer McKinnon herself."

Hermione could barely hear what McGonagall was saying over the rush that had her heart starting to race. She desperately wanted to run, sprint even, but she couldn't just charge off on Professor McGonagall after she went to the hassle of hunting her down to deliver the news.

"Of course, I understand. C-can I go to see him, professor?" She asked, clutching at her bag stap as she shifted. McGonagall answered by taking one hand off her stick and gestured for her to go with a sweep of her arm. Beaming with sheer joy, Hermione burst into motion. "Thank you, professor. Thank you!"

She didn't run until she was clear of the Library. The moment she was out in the corridor, her feet beat a rapid pace. Her hair flew behind her as she ran, not caring that it was against the rules and that, as a prefect, she had to set an example. Harry was there. He was waiting for her… alive, awake, smiling, talking…

Mid-way, she started to curse the architects who chose to put the Hospital Wing so far from the Library. A stitch soon stabbed into her side as she raced up the stairs, her feet slapping on the stone as she kept up her urgent pace. By the time she reached the hallway at the clock tower, her breathing came out in hot pants, face damp with sweat. Slowing down, she wiped at her face, pausing to check her appearance. Her jeans and camisole were extremely casual, not a single stitch of magical nature or fashion. All that betrayed her as a witch was her wand that was thrust into her pocket.

She nervously tucked her hair behind her ears, catching her breath, before walking the rest of the way. Low voices were just about audible from the end of the corridor, getting louder and more distinct as she neared. By the time she reached the door, she recognised the male voice as Lupin's and the woman as Madame Pomfrey. She was yet to hear Harry's voice. Holding her breath, she knocked on the door.

"You may enter," Pomfrey called out. Heart thudding excitedly, Hermione wrenched open the door. At once, her eyes clapped onto the single patient in the room, set up at the far end where the sun streamed in through the large windows.

"Harry!" She almost screamed his name, her voice pitched up as she tore across the room. She didn't hear whatever Pomfrey said in response to her abrupt entrance, caring only about the person propped up against pillows. The only voice she wanted to hear was his when he responded, gasping out her name.

"Hermione! Whoa, slow down…" Harry said, breaking off with an incredulous laugh as she reached the foot of his bed. She dropped her bag down on the floor with an unceremonious thud and swept up towards him at once. Hesitating for a moment, she waited, but Harry understood what she wanted. He lifted his arms, leaning forwards.

So very desperate to embrace him, Hermione nearly fell on the bed on top of him. She balanced, teetering, where she pressed against the mattress. Bringing her arms carefully around him, her body pressed against his. So solid, so warm, so real. Had Harry always been so warm? His arms then came around her, his body shaking a little as he brought his hands upwards. One coming to rest on her shoulder where the other moved up to the back of her head, angling her towards his shoulder.

Her breath stilled in her lungs at the intimacy in the way he held her. His breathing was short, shaky, and loud in her ear. She breathed in the lemony scent that came off his pyjama shirt, her cheek brushing against his neck. It then all washed over her, the memories trickling through her like rain streaking down glass. Her eyes burned with tears, her own breathing shortening with Harry's as she clutched his back. She didn't want to let go.

"All right, Miss Granger, I'm afraid you're going to have to release Mr Potter. He won't be going anywhere, that I can assure you," Madame Pomfrey's voice was curt but not unkind as she stepped up behind Hermione.

Harry's hands dropped first and he drew back. Hermione then pushed herself back from the bed, steadying herself with a hand pressed on the mattress. She looked up just as Harry brought his arm up to his face to wipe under his glasses. He then met her gaze, tears shimmering at his bottom eyelids. Hermione felt frozen, unable to think or move at the sight of Harry's tears.

"I'm so happy to see you," Harry said softly before he then smiled. His cheeks pushed against his glasses. "Did you run all the way here?"

Her face warmed at his question and she wasn't entirely sure why. It did bring her attention to the fact that their reunion had an audience. She looked over as Madame Pomfrey left them after getting them to break it up. Remus remained, however, smiling as he went to pick up her discarded bag.

"All the way from the Library too, I suspect," Remus said good-naturedly as he went to put her bag on the chair across from her. "I'll leave you to it." He smiled over at Harry before adjusting his robes and striding after Madame Pomfrey. Hermione didn't look to see where he was heading, managing to thaw out of her shock and shift over to the seat by the counter where Harry's water jug, glass and wand were set up for him.

"What were you doing in the Library?" Harry asked her once she'd sat down, his voice coloured with amusement.

"Reading," she answered automatically, staring at Harry and his red-rimmed eyes. "Harry… you… how are you?" She asked rather lamely. His smile dimmed a little and he brought his hand up to his chest, wincing as he rubbed the middle.

"Better but… I'm still on loads of potions and I'm tired all the time," he said, surprising her with his honesty. She was expecting him to stamp down an unconvincing 'fine'. "I thought I'd feel loads better without the electrum, but I feel worse." He let out a small, slightly self-deprecating laugh.

"It's understandable that you feel ropey," she said mildly, her mouth and brain not entirely engaged.

"I guess," Harry said with a small shrug. He then frowned a little, looking her up and down. "How about you?"

"I'm-."

Hermione was about to give him the unconvincing 'fine' that she expected before she stopped herself. She considered his earnest concern as he regarded her with focused scrutiny. She sighed, swallowing.

"It's been hard," she admitted quietly, "not knowing if you were okay or not. I've been so worried."

"Oh," Harry awkwardly went to fiddle with his shirt sleeves, looking down. "You didn't have to worry. I mean… I had the best healer in the country fixing me up and Sirius was there the whole time…"

"I worry because I care about you… because I nearly lost you," Hermione said before Harry could give her any more reasons. "Harry, I…"

Hermione's eyes widened as she stopped herself in time. She couldn't believe what she came close to uttering. Harry's green eyes rose upwards from where he'd been studying his sleeves, considering her with a sad mixture of confusion and guilt. As he looked back at her, it became all so very clear. The bond between them wasn't some sort of magical chain that suddenly forged the moment he went to sacrifice himself for her. It didn't just spring up, linking them together permanently until she performed some heroic act for him just as he'd done for her.

It wasn't magical at all. It was human and natural. It was the most naturally beautiful thing that could exist between two people. Love.

"You what?" Harry then asked when she didn't finish. She let out a long breath, one that she felt as if she'd been holding the whole time.

"It's taken this… this to happen for me to realise… that you mean the world to me."

Harry drew back against his pillows at her confession, his confusion giving away to shock. He glanced over in the direction where Remus and Madame Pomfrey had disappeared. Emboldened by her confession, Hermione shifted forwards to the edge of her seat, reaching out for Harry's hand. He looked down at it, his lips moving slightly as if forming words that he wasn't ready to say. His eyes were dewing with tears again, his nose sniffling a little as he sat quietly. All the while, the silence in the room confirmed that they were alone.

Harry then lifted his gaze upwards once more. He gave her a look of utter seriousness, his eyelashes clumped with tears.

"When… when Bellatrix was hurting you, nothing else mattered. I would have done anything, said anything, to spare you from what she was doing," Harry said softly, his voice close to a whisper. "It… it felt worse than dying, worse than having my heart burned to a crisp in my chest."

He edged forwards, the mattress springs clunking as he moved. His fingers, warm and strong, grasped hers where they were resting on his bedsheets.

"I've never been more scared in my life… more helpless… and it broke me. I surrendered and… if the Order hadn't shown up when they did, we'd both be dead. I just… gave up… because I can't live and fight in a world without you in it."

Shock swept over Hermione at the sincerity of his confession. Hearing Sirius's suspicions about Harry's true feelings towards her confirmed in such a way stunned her beyond comprehension. Yet she knew every word he said was true. She had been there, witnessed his torment after the Cruciatus Curse ripped through her body. She heard him pleading, voice broken and hoarse.

Her fingers tensed against his as she let his words settle. She understood the feeling and intent behind them because the feelings matched her own. A world without Harry in it just simply wasn't a world she'd live in… because she loved him.

So she looked at him, at the Boy Who Lived, seeing how he impossibly still breathed. She gazed into his clear, brilliant green eyes, at the raw human emotion spilling out of them. Holding his hand in hers, running her thumb over the scars etched into his skin, she felt their bond properly and truly. No longer wasting any time, for time was too precious to waste, she drew on the courage that placed her in Gryffindor alongside him.

"I love you."

Three words, so simple, so powerful, resonated in the air. They hadn't left Hermione's lips. They left Harry's. He got there first. Hermione didn't leave him stewing in the discomfort of an unrequited confession. Her words went to join his.

"I love you too."