# The Potions Mistress

stu14688

Rating: G
Genres: Drama
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 6
Published: 29/05/2007
Last Updated: 29/05/2007
Status: Completed

Two days before Bill and Fleur’s wedding, a truth comes to light that undermines all Harry has ever sought and thought he finally found. Enjoy! (Longish one-shot)

## 1. one-shot

The Potions Mistress

By: stu14688

Disclaimer: I'm sorry to say that I don't own Harry Potter. If I did, though, he and Hermione would be together by now.

Summary: Two days before Bill and Fleur's wedding, a truth comes to light that undermines all Harry has ever sought and thought he finally found. (Longish o ne-shot)

A/N: This story got a bit longer than expected, but I'm happy with how it turned out. I hope you all enjoy it. Please R&R! God bless!

It was two days before Bill and Fleur's wedding, and the Burrow was full to the bursting with people. All of the Weasleys (with the exception of Percy), Harry, Hermione, Fleur and even Remus and Tonks were seated around the magically enlarged table in the kitchen. Talk and laughter reverberated around the table as everyone valiantly attempted to forget - for even a short while - that Voldemort existed and was wreaking havoc around the world. It was about half-way through the meal when the conversation lulled, and per typical, Fred and George decided it was too quiet.

“So, Ginny,” said Fred looking pointedly at his sister seated across from him. “I hear that you won an important game this year. When were you going to tell us about it?”

“Yeah,” said George. “We love to hear about the successful conquests of our fellow Weasleys.”

Everyone turned to look at Ginny, eager to hear about this game. Harry thought the twins might have been thinking about the Quidditch game that she had helped win - the game he had missed because of his detention with Snape. Apparently Ginny thought the same thing. “What that Quidditch game that won Gryffindor the cup?”

George somehow managed to roll his eyes and look rather serious at the same time. “No. The love potion game that was going on in the girl's dorms.”

Harry suddenly did not like the direction this conversation was going, but he steadfastly continued to eat his steak and kidney pie and listened.

Ginny laughed and waved her hand distractedly. “Oh that? That was just a silly game. It didn't really mean anything. Just a silly thing girls do sometimes.”

Fred looked completely serious now, and Harry knew for certain that he did not want to hear the end of this conversation. No one else seemed to share his thoughts, however, because they were all listening in rapt attention. Fred shook his head. “That's not what we heard. According to a couple of girls that came in the shop yesterday, the whole point of the game was to get some boy to drink a love potion. The one who was successful obviously got the boy.”

Ginny looked a bit pale, but said, “I told you, it was just a silly game between friends. None of it mattered. Nothing even came of it! Whoever said all this obviously didn't know what they were talking about. Now, please, can we drop the subject?”

Fred looked at George. “Who was it that said all this? Romilda Vane? Wasn't she that ditzy girl who was several years below us?”

Harry felt his stomach plummet. Romilda Vane had tried to give him a love potion more than once in the past year - her and several other girls, many of whom were in Gryffindor. He clutched his fork tightly hoping against hope that what he suspected was not true.

George nodded. “Yeah, that's who it was, but if I remember right, she said that something did come of it, Ginny,” he said turning back to Ginny. “She said this boy kissed you in front of the whole common room after that Quidditch game you mention a bit ago. Personally I'd like to know who this bloke was so I can take the mickey out him…or maybe I'd punch him for kissing my sister….”

Harry's fork clattered to his plate and he stood up abruptly. All eyes turned to him, but he did not notice as he gathered his plate and silverware to take to the sink.

“Harry, dear, is everything okay?” Mrs. Weasley asked.

He dropped the dishes into the sink and turned to her, careful to avoid looking at anyone else, especially Ginny. “Er…I'm sorry…I'm just a bit tired. If you'll excuse me, I think I'll go upstairs. Dinner was delicious, Mrs. Weasley.” And without even bothering to wait for an answer, he hurried from the room, certain that if he stayed there much longer, he would do something he would much later regret.

There was no doubt in anyone's mind after that episode just who had been the object of the “silly game.” Ginny sat and stared at her half-empty plate, her face as pale as the mashed potatoes. All eyes turned to her at Harry's departure.

“Now, I'm guessing here,” said George, “but I think that quite possibly it was Harry who kissed Ginny in the common room that day. What do you think, Fred?”

“I think you're right, dear brother. What say you, Ginny?”

Ginny mumbled something incoherently at her plate at the same Hermione stood, pulling Ron up with her. Hermione's eyes were blazing in anger, their brown shade turning nearly black. Ron could feel her hand trembling where it still rested on his arm after pulling him from his seat.

“How dare you, Ginny?” she asked scathingly. “How dare you do that to Harry? That's one of the most despicable things I've ever heard of! Using a love potion-a love potion, Ginny-to get Harry to date you! Do you even realize what you've done to him? Do you care?”

“Hermione, let's just go,” said Ron quietly as he tugged on the sleeve of her robe.

“No, Ron! She needs to understand that you just can't manipulate someone's feelings and get away with it, and she certainly should not call it `just a silly game!'”

“Hermione, I…I just…I didn't mean to hurt him…” said Ginny in a mousy voice.

“Didn't mean to-”

“Hermione, leave her alone and come upstairs,” said a firm yet quiet voice from the doorway.

Everyone turned to see Harry standing there, his face a mask, not betraying any of his thoughts or feelings.

“But, Harry, she-”

“I know what she did, but it doesn't matter.”

Hermione looked aghast. “Yes, Harry, it does matter. It matters quite a lot, actually. She ought to at least apologize.”

Harry glanced quickly at Ginny, who opened her mouth to speak, but Harry beat her to it. “I've told you, Hermione, it doesn't matter. Let's just go upstairs.” He had walked over to where his two best friends were standing and had begun to lead her away from the room.

Just as they reached the doorway, Ginny ran up to him and grasped his other arm. “Harry, please, I should apologize. I-”

“I don't want to hear it, Ginny. Not right now. Just go away.”

Ginny stood back from Harry, her eyebrows knit together, her fiery hair fairly crackling with anger. “You can't just dismiss me, Harry. I've got something to say to you, and you're going to hear me out!”

Harry swooped around, his robes swirling in a perfect imitation of Snape. His own eyes now flashing behind the spectacles he wore. “After what you've done, Ginny, you have no right whatsoever to tell me what I will and won't do, but if you think you've just got to tell me why you decided to force me to feel things for you that I wouldn't have felt otherwise, then by all means, go ahead. You might as well start at the beginning. Tell me, when did you decide that I needed to start having feelings for you? When did you start slipping me a love potion?”

“Oh, don't go acting all high and mighty, Harry! It was a love potion - what's so awful about that, hmm? You cer-”

“Awful about a love potion? You want to know what's so awful about using a love potion on somebody. I'll tell you what's so wrong and awful about it. Love can't be created by magic, and when someone tries it on someone else, they only end up with more problems than they know what to do with, and everyone gets hurt. Did you know that Voldemort would have never even existed if it weren't for a love potion?

“Love is not something that you can play with at will, Ginny. It's the most powerful force in the universe. It has the power to save a life and take it away. It-”

“Oh, Harry, don't act as though you understand love, you'll-”

“-only embarrass myself,” Harry finished for her. His face was hard, his jaw set, his eyes a dark forest green. He looked directly into Ginny's eyes, which actually looked rather frightened. Quietly he said, “I see.”

No one else said a word, but there had been several gasps at Ginny's comment. Everyone was riveted to the scene before them where Harry was standing stiff and straight, looking every bit of the powerful wizard they all knew him to be. After several seconds he softened his features, looked to Mrs. Weasley, and said, “I think I'll go, Mrs. Weasley. I thank you and Mr. Weasley for your kind hospitality.” Then looking at Bill and Fleur, he said, “I'll come for the wedding. Maybe I'll learn a few things,” he added looking directly at Ginny. He quickly went up the stairs followed by Ron and Hermione, and within ten minutes was walking out the door with all of his belongings. As soon as he got past the gate, he turned and apparated away with Hermione following on his heals.

***

Ron had went up the stairs with them to find out where they would be, but said he needed to stay and help with the final wedding preparations. They had nodded in understanding and told him they would see him in a couple of days.

When Ron re-entered the kitchen, it was to find that everyone had gone back to eating and were discussing the most recent Quidditch match that had been played on the wireless. It was the same discussion they had all had not twenty minutes ago, but Quidditch was mundane enough to give the pretense that the argument had not occurred, even if it was obvious that was all they were thinking about.

Ron watched Ginny. She was crying silently, but Ron could not tell whether it was from anger, guilt, or sadness because she kept clenching her fists and glaring at her plate between intervals of morosely sitting stock still or shaking her head in a disbelieving way. He decided it would be best if he did not say anything to her for awhile.

To his relief, dinner was soon over, and people began to leave the table and go their separate ways. Ginny was steered to her room by her father and mother, and Ron was certain they would be at it for awhile. Before Ron could escape, however, Remus caught his arm and pulled him to the couch in the sitting room. “Ron, where did Harry go? I need to go talk to him.” His voice was urgent and his eyes were pleading. Ron knew that Remus was worried about how Harry would react to what had happened. Everyone knew that Harry was not as okay as he had tried to claim.

Ron debated on telling Remus where Harry and Hermione had gone, but finally decided it might be for the best if Remus knew. “He went to Hermione's house with her. It's only for a couple of days, so Hermione said she was sure her parents wouldn't mind. Do you know where it's at?”

Remus looked immensely relieved. “Yes, I do. Thank you, Ron. I'll see you in a couple of days, okay?”

“Okay.” The older man turned to walk away, and Ron called after him. “Oh, and Remus?”

Remus looked back. “Yes, Ron?”

Ron was not sure what he wanted to say. All he knew was that he knew Harry needed someone to talk to him, and he was glad Remus was going. Finally, he said, “Thanks.”

Remus smiled, seeming to understand what Ron was thinking. “It's my pleasure, Ron. Good-bye.”

“Bye.”

With that, Remus walked over to where Tonks was waiting across the room, grabbed her hand, and left the Burrow. Ron sighed, wondering for the thousandth time since he had met Harry Potter how he got into these messes, and went upstairs to pass the night alone.

***

Remus and Tonks arrived at the Granger home in mere seconds after apparating from the Burrow. Remus was surprised when Hermione answered the door after his knock. “Hermione, I thought you'd be with Harry.”

Hermione opened the door wider to let the couple inside. “I was, but he asked that I leave for a bit so he could think. I did, but not before I told him I would be back in a few minutes. I'm just giving him some time to compose himself.”

“Yes, he was quite angry back at the Burrow,” said Remus as Hermione closed the door behind them.

Hermione led them toward the kitchen where her parents were still seated at the table sipping on cups of tea. “Angrier than I've ever seen him. Not that I can blame him, really…”

The Grangers looked up when Hermione, Remus, and Tonks entered. They stood up to greet their guests. “Professor Remus Lupin isn't it?” said Mr. Granger as he shook Remus's hand. Hermione was introducing Mrs. Granger and Tonks on the other side of the table.

“Yes, but please call me Remus. I hate to barge in on you like this, Mr. Granger, but I would like to speak with Harry. He has had a rather upsetting evening.”

“Yes, that's what Hermione's been telling us. A love potion… I would never have thought it to even be possible,” he said as he shook his head in disbelief. “He was very polite when he came in a few minutes ago, but I did think he seemed a bit…upset I guess you could say. Hermione thought it best that he cool down for a few minutes before meeting us properly, and after what I've heard, I don't see anything wrong with that.”

“True, Harry is nothing if not polite upon first meeting someone and stays that way more often than not afterwards. I do, however, feel I need to speak with him, if you could tell me which room he's in.”

“Ah, yes, sorry. At times I just get caught up in talking… Harry's in the second room on your left up the stairs in the sitting room.”

“Thank you,” said Remus as he made his way back to the sitting room.

In less than a minute, Remus was knocking on Harry's door. He heard the bed squeak and footsteps coming towards the door. Harry's look of surprise when he opened the door told Remus that Harry had not been expecting him on the other side.

“R-Remus! I thought you were Hermione. Is everything okay?”

Harry's look of surprise had quickly changed to alarm, and Remus was quick to assure Harry that everything was fine. “I only wanted to come and check on you. I know you are upset after what happened at the Burrow.”

Harry opened the door wider and wordlessly invited Remus inside the room. It looked like most guest rooms with warm, inviting colors of blue and cream and matching decorations of the sea and lighthouses. There was a full-size bed against the far wall whose blue covers were already rumpled from where Harry had been lying on it. The only evidence of Harry's staying in the room was his trunk which was placed at the foot of the bed and Hedwig's cage which sat on a corner of the desk on the left wall. Remus pulled the chair out from the desk and sat down. Harry sat on his trunk.

“Would you like to talk, Harry?”

Harry sighed - it was sigh that made him sound like a very old man. “It's like I said at the Burrow, Remus, it doesn't matter - not now at any rate. There are things much more important to be thinking and worrying about than silly love potion games.”

“Harry, I know that to you it was much more than a silly game. What Ginny did was not right, and it is okay to be upset about it.”

“What good will it do, though, Remus? It's over and done with, and at this point, no one can change it. Am I upset with her and what she did? Yes, I am, but I've got more important things to worry about.”

“Well, you do not have to worry about it. Like you said, it's over and done with, but that does not mean that you can't be upset and talk about it. If you do not want to talk to me about it, that's fine, but Harry, do say something about it to someone. As you said there are other things to think about. You have enough on your plate without this, too.”

Harry was looking at the floor, and Remus knew that he was contemplating all that had been told to him. Remus stood up and walked to the door, and just as he reached out to take the doorknob, Harry said, “What if she's right?”

Remus turned back around to see Harry looking at him in earnest. His eyes betrayed his worry and quite possibly fear. “What if she's right about what, Harry?”

“My not understanding love. I can't help but think that she's right. What do I know about love? The people I care about seem to have a bad habit of dying before I ever really get a chance to find out.”

Remus understood then. Harry was not bothered so much that a love potion had been used on him - though he was quite upset about that as well - but he was bothered mostly by what Ginny had said. Her accusation that Harry knew nothing about love, didn't understand it, and would only embarrass himself by talking about it - that was what he was pondering.

“Harry, she's not right in what she said-”

“But how do you know, Remus? How do you know? What evidence is there that points to the fact that I know anything about love?”

“Harry, what you said tonight about love, about it being the most powerful force in the universe. That it's so powerful, in fact, that it can save a life or take it. That it's not something to be played with at will.

“Harry, do you know how few people understand that? Do you know how few people could know that? You know more about love because you have experienced it and lost it, and that has happened to you many times over the years. That's a sad, horrible fact, but it's true. You know what love is because you have a tremendous amount of it within you. You love people with a fierceness and unselfishness that is rarely seen in someone your age or in someone any age for that matter. You know what love is, Harry, and you know what it isn't. You told Ginny that tonight, and her retort was both unfair and unfounded. I have to say, and I'm not just being biased, that you know more about love - true love - than she does, and she has had it constantly her entire life. That is something you've never had the privilege of having.”

“Then how come I didn't recognize what I felt for her as not being love?”

“That's the force of the enchantment, Harry. It brings strong emotions, but only those of infatuation and lust. Add that to the fact that you are still only sixteen - mature to be sure, but still quite young - and that though you have loved and been loved, you have not been able to recognize it until very recently, and you have the reason why you did not earlier recognize the effects of the love potion for what they were.

“However, if what I heard is true about your breaking up with Ginny after Dumbledore's funeral, then I have to tell you, that unless she had quit giving you the potion at that point, then you broke the enchantment yourself with real love. You loved her enough in some way to not want to bring more danger to her. Do you see how strong your love for other people is now? Why it is that Ginny's accusation against you is not true?”

Harry sat quietly for several long moments, boring a hole into the floor, thinking about what Remus had said. Remus watched him, willing Harry to understand, wanting the boy to know the truth. Finally Harry looked up, his eyes lighter than Remus had seen them in months, and said, “I believe you. Thank you.”

“You're more than welcome, Harry. Now, how about we go downstairs so that you can meet the Grangers properly?”
Harry blushed a bit. “Yes, I should do that. It was quite rude of me to come up here and brood, wasn't it?”

Remus smiled. Polite indeed, he thought. “Don't worry. They knew you were upset about something. Hermione told them you would be down soon.”

As they walked down the stairs, Harry smiled and said. “What would I do without her?”

***

Remus and Tonks had left soon after Remus and Harry had come back downstairs, but not before they had had a cup of tea and a good round of talk. Harry had spent several hours later that night after they left getting to know Mr. and Mrs. Granger, and he discovered them to be some of the most pleasant people he had ever been around. Mr. Granger, or Robert as he preferred to be called, was nearing fifty years old and had obviously passed on his brown eyes to his daughter. He was a talkative man Harry discovered and took a considerable amount of glee in making other people laugh. He told Harry that when he had decided on dentistry as a profession, he never thought he would have to also be a stand up comedian, but the shear number of his patients that feared and dreaded anything to do with dentists had forced him to develop some ability for comedy in order to keep them calmed down and relaxed. Harry had decided by the end of the night that if Robert Granger was as funny with his patients as he was that night, then they probably had a hard time keeping their mouths still from laughing. Harry also noticed that Robert took pleasure in doting on his daughter. He was full of nothing but praise for Hermione and was always on the watch for anything she might need. Of course, Harry also noticed that he was the same way with his wife, Mrs. Anita Granger.

Anita, as she preferred to be called, was a lovely woman about ten years her husband's junior. (That was a guess on Harry's part because he knew enough to never ask a woman her age and to always guess younger than he assumed.) Harry had known instantly that Hermione got her hair from her mother. The difference was that Anita had her hair in a plait down her back, something Hermione rarely did. Anita was quieter than her husband but by no means shy. She was inquisitive, though. She asked Harry more questions in a few hours time than he had been asked in three months total. Though he was not used to such a grilling, he answered each question as politely as he could, which really was not that hard because Anita had a very comforting air that told Harry she was not trying to pry, just get to know him.

Through the course of the evening, he discovered that it was also from her mother that Hermione got her love for books and learning. He found Anita to be knowledgeable in a world of things, including some nineteenth century authors he had never heard of before - people such as Jane Austen and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (though he had heard of Sherlock Holmes, but never Elizabeth Bennet or Emma Woodhouse). Subsequently, he also learned that his bookish best friend had a great love for fictional narratives, just never enough time to read them in school.

By the time that he had gone to bed that night, Harry was exhausted and exhilarated. He even wondered at how Hermione had spent so little time with her parents in the years past. He hoped that she would soon be able to spend much more time with them, and he even planned on telling her the next day that she should not come with him on the horocrux hunt but rather stay with her parents. It was with those thoughts that Harry fell into the first peaceful sleep he had had in months.

The following morning, Harry was woke up by Hermione slowly opening the door and turning on the light. “Good morning, Harry! We're fixing breakfast. Come join us!”

Harry rolled over and took his pillow with him to hide from the light. “You do realize that we stayed up talking to your parents until after midnight last night? It's only seven-thirty now. That's not nearly enough sleep,” he said, though it was muffled considerably through the pillow.

Hermione laughed and plopped down on the foot of his bed. “Come on,” she whined. “You've got less sleep at that at school before and even on test days. My parents really want you to have breakfast with us. Please, Harry.”

Harry pulled the pillow back from his face. “I know. I was only joking with you. Of course I'll come to breakfast. Now go on so I can get dressed.”

Hermione smirked at him and headed for the door. “Aren't you glad I'm not one of your fan girls whom you'd have to stun, bind, and levitate into the hallway before locking yourself in your room with a ridiculously advanced locking charm in order to have enough privacy just to get dressed?”

Harry threw the pillow at her, laughed, and said, “You may not be a fan girl, Hermione, but if you don't get out of here soon, I may use your idea on you.” Hermione just shook her head and closed the door behind her.

Harry made it to the kitchen in time to cook the pancakes while the others set the table and washed the few dishes that could be washed. Hermione was in charge of fixing the glasses of milk, which did not take long, and once she was finished she went and watched Harry cook.

“Do you think I need supervision cooking pancakes, Hermione?”

“I've seen some of your work in potions, Harry. It does make me wonder…”

“Well, hardy, har, har. I'll have you know, Miss Granger, that I am quite capable of cooking a pancake.”
“Is that so, Mr. Potter?”

“Quite. Now if you'll stand back, I need to flip this.”

Hermione stepped over a foot or two. “Are you that dangerous with a plastic spatula, Harry?”

Harry raised an eyebrow and smirked at her. “Who said anything about using a spatula?”

Hermione's eyes got round in astonishment. “You can't-”

“Oh yes, I can,” said Harry as he lifted the pan from the stove top. “I've been doing it since I was about seven. Watch.” He gripped the handle of the pan with both hands and moved it back and forth in front of him to loosen the pancake from the bottom of the pan, and then by jerking the entire pan upward and tilting the front up a bit more, the pancake left the pan, flopped over a time an a half in the air, and landed perfectly in the middle of the pan doughy side down. Harry immediately set the pan back down on the top of the stove. “You were saying, Hermione?”

Anita and Roger were applauding from somewhere behind Harry, and Hermione's jaw was dropped, her eyes bugged out, completely amazed that Harry had actually flipped a pancake in midair. Harry laughed, which brought Hermione back to the present, and she quickly closed her mouth. “I can't believe you just did that! Harry Potter - The Boy Who Lived - The Chosen One - and The Boy Who Can Flip A Pancake In The Air. Will wonders never cease?”

“Yeah, well, what can I say? I'm just good,” he replied as he slid the pancake from the pan (without the spatula) and placed it in a plate which he handed to Hermione. “Here, you can have the flipped one since it impressed you so much.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and took the proffered plate. “You know Ron is never going to believe you did that until he actually sees it.”

“Need I remind you that you didn't think I could do it either until you saw it?” said Harry as he poured another pancake into the pan.

Hermione only mockingly glared at his back in response and poured syrup on her pancake.

Breakfast was an enjoyable affair. Once again, Robert caused Harry to laugh so much that he had tears rolling down his face, and he could not even eat for several minutes. They talked about some of the exploits of Harry, Hermione, and Ron from the past several years. Robert's favorite was the story of Harry and Ron flying to school in the Weasley's old Ford Angelia and how they were subsequently whopped by the Whopping Willow. Then, of course, there was always the humorous story of Ron's dress robes, which had them all laughing.

The Grangers left for work at eight-thirty, leaving Hermione and Harry to clean the kitchen, which really did not take them long. When they were finished, they went to the sitting room. Harry was thinking of all that had happened at Hogwarts over the past six years - the good, the bad, and even the dull moments.

“It's been a lot, hasn't it?” asked Hermione, interrupting but correctly interpreting his thoughts.

“Yes, it has. More than many can claim to have done during their time there.”

“Do you wish it had never happened?”

Harry looked at her. “I wish a lot of it had never happened. But do I wish that I had never learnt of the wizarding world, never became a part of it, never met you or Ron or any of the Weasleys, never had a chance to go to Hogwarts? No, I could never wish that. If the only way for me to have had all the good things that have happened these last several years was to also endure the hard, tough things, then I would take the hard, tough things as well because I don't regret any of the goods things. They make it worth it.”

“But, Harry, in the end, what if you die because of the hard, tough things?” asked Hermione worriedly.

“Then I will die remembering all of the good times and being eternally thankful that I got the chance to experience them. I will die knowing that my death brings the world one step closer to the happiness and joy that it so lacks and needs. I will die knowing that I have done all in my power to make it a safer place for those I care about.”

They were speaking in whispers even though they were totally alone. Harry was gazing intently at Hermione willing her to believe what he was telling her. She looked back at him and could see the intensity in his eyes which assured that the words he spoke were true. She had never doubted him, but if she had, she knew that the look in his eyes would have wiped all doubt away at that moment. The certainty with which he spoke made her think of the evening before at the Burrow when he had been telling Ginny what exactly love was and how it should be treated. She was amazed at how much he had changed in just a few short weeks since Dumbledore's funeral. She could see the leader in him breaking out. She could see his determination, and she could see his strength hiding just below the surface waiting to be released. She wondered if he even knew how much magical power he held, the power that was so obvious to everyone but himself. She reached out and touched his arm. “You're a great wizard, Harry.”

He smiled and whispered, “I'm not as good as you.”

Hermione grinned back, thrilled that he remembered that old conversation. “Me! Books! And cleverness! There are more important things - friendship and bravery and -”

“And what? You never told me the last time.”

“And love, Harry. Friendship, bravery, and love. It's that love that makes you so great. You do know that, don't you, Harry?”

Harry dropped his eyes and stopped grinning. “Dumbledore told me that a few times.”

“Dumbledore was a smart man.”

“Yes, but do you think it'll be enough? Enough to kill Voldemort?”

Hermione looked at him carefully. She could hear the worry in his voice. “Yes, I do think it'll be enough. I see it in you, Harry, the power to vanquish him. You told Neville once that all he lacked was confidence, and you know, that's all you lack as well. You can do it, Harry, and you forget that you won't be alone. Ron and I will help you all the way. We're not going to leave you.”

He looked back up at her in earnest. “It would be safer if you did. You could be with your parents, here in this home you grew up in being loved and cared for, reading Jane Austen and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Ron could be safe with his family, playing Quidditch.”

“I don't think that either of us would be safer. Personally, I feel safer when I'm with you than when I'm not. Please don't ask me to stay away, Harry. Don't try to push me away. I'm not Ginny; I won't just let you walk away from me.”

“I think we both know why Ginny did that. She didn't care as much as she let on to.”

“I know, but I do care as much as I let on to. That's why I won't leave you.”

Harry clasped her hand in his, and Hermione stifled a gasp at this rare moment of Harry initiating contact with someone. “I'm glad. I need you with me, and to be totally honest, I want you with me - you and Ron both. I'm glad you're coming, even if I feel guilty about your being in danger because regardless of what you say, I'm certain that you're in more danger with me than away from me.”

“You know Voldemort would hunt Ron and me down whether we're with you or not. At least with you we will know we're doing something to stop him.”

Harry nodded, looked at his knees, and let go of her hand. “We've got to go back to the Burrow tomorrow. I hope Ginny doesn't make a scene.”

“Will you be okay being around her?”

“Yes, I'll be fine. I just can't believe that she, of all people, did that, Hermione! I mean, I trusted her! I cared about her, and on some level, I still do! Why would she do that? I just feel so…used, like I'm merely a prize to be won or some object to be auctioned off. What would make her do such a thing? She knows what it's like to be manipulated into doing things you wouldn't normally do. I just can't understand it.”

“Only Ginny has those answers, Harry,” said Hermione gently. “Maybe it's because she grew up hearing you name and thinking of you as a hero. For the longest time she had a silly fan girl fancy for you, maybe she just wanted that one date that she felt she of all girls should have.”

“It was far more than just one date, Hermione. She was my girlfriend for weeks. The worst part about it is that I thought it was real. I thought that what I felt for her was something real, something from my own heart, and it wasn't. It was merely the effects of a potion from a cauldron. My feelings were as real as a person's face under the influence of polyjuice potion. It's not as bad as having Voldemort lurking in the back of my head, but it's a close second.”

Hermione could not remember a time when Harry had been so candid, nor could she remember a time when he expressed feeling so vulnerable. She wasn't sure what to say or do, so she just threw her arms around him and hugged him and said, “Don't worry, Harry. She won't do it again, and neither will any other girl. Don't think about it anymore. It's over and done with, and tomorrow I'll stick to you like glue. If Ginny tries to start something, we'll leave. Ron knows where we're going first, so we'll just go and wait on him to come along later. He'll understand.”

Harry pulled back from the hug. “Thanks, Hermione. I don't know what I'd do without you. I suppose I do need to listen if she tries to talk to me, though, so long as she doesn't cause a scene. The last thing any of us need is a grudge against our friends in the middle of a war.”

“I guess you're right,” Hermione conceded as she stood up. “Now come on, we need to make sure we have everything ready before we leave in the morning.”

“Yeah, you're right - once again. Let's go.” Harry stood also and followed her from the room, ready to face the wedding, the horocrux hunt, and even Voldemort. He knew that things were not going to get any easier anytime soon, but he also knew that with Hermione and Ron with him, he could endure it. He would do anything for them, and he thanked his lucky stars he could call them his best friends.

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