Something about You by gryffindor-girl

Rating: G
Genres: Drama, Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 7
Published: 23/08/2007
Last Updated: 13/03/2008
Status: Completed

Summary: It is the evening of Voldemort’s demise and Harry discovers that he didn’t escape their
final confrontation unscathed. He appears to have inherited some of Voldemort’s powers, and
Hermione is the only one around who can help him. Two thirds of the trio must rely on each other
again, but this time, it will push them closer than ever. Features: Hogwarts, flying, school
dances, Dumbledore, Snape, funerals, Death Eaters, Legilimency, The Elder Wand, angsty Ginny, angry
Ron, powerful Harry and Hermione just being her incredible self. Sticks closely to canon and set
directly after the final chapter of DH, conveniently ignoring epilogue. (epilogue…what
epilogue?)




1. By My Side
-------------

Set after Deathly Hallows, follows canon but disregards The Epilogue (that was all a dream..a
bad, bad dream.). My attempt to finish the series HHr x

Summary: It is the evening of Voldemort’s demise and Harry discovers that he didn’t escape their
final confrontation unscathed. He appears to have inherited some of Voldemort’s powers, and
Hermione is the only one around who can help him. Two thirds of the trio must work by themselves
again, but this time, it will push them closer than ever. Features: Hogwarts, flying, school
dances, Dumbledore, Snape, funerals, Death Eaters, Legilimency, The Elder Wand, angsty Ginny, angry
Ron, powerful Harry and Hermione just being her incredible self. Completed, 12 chapters total, with
a short epilogue.

Disclaimer; JK Rowling owns these fantastic characters and the HP universe; I’m just borrowing
for fun and to satisfy that unscratched Harmony itch. No copyright infringement intended etc.

Chapter 1

By my side

The echo of her slow footsteps was the only sound in the hollow halls of the school as Hermione
made her way through the familiar passages that would take her to the seventh floor, and Gryffindor
Tower.

She was heavy with exhaustion and grief – her mind not even considering any relief she might
feel from victory, the scene from the Great Hall was still too fresh in her mind.

She had sat with Ron and the Weasleys for a while until it became obvious to her at least that
they should be left alone as a family to take Fred home. Ron protested weakly but she knew it was
right. She’d left the Great Hall straight away, staying just long enough to find Professor
McGonagall and request to stay in the Gryffindor dormitory tonight, knowing instinctively it would
be the only place she’d feel comfortable.

Besides, she had to find Harry.

He had left her and Ron on the way back from speaking with Dumbledore’s portrait, muttering
something about Kreacher bringing him a sandwich in the common room. They’d understood that he
needed some rest and said their goodbyes but not before Hermione noticed the nervous agitation in
Harry’s eyes. She looked at him more closely and saw his green eyes were definitely clouded with
anxiety, something was up with him. She’d held back from questioning him then, she knew Ron had
wanted to get back to the hall, and now, recalling the haunted expression on Harry’s face, she sped
up a little, eager to track him down.

She entered the passageway to the common room and met with the Fat Lady, joined in her portrait
by at least a dozen others who broke into loud cheers and applause at the sight of her. She smiled
gratefully as the Fat Lady waved off the need for a password – ‘just go in my dear’ and stepped
through the circular hole, the cheers cutting off only when the portrait was fully closed
again.

The common room was deserted and quiet, so unlike how Hermione was used to seeing it. There was
a distinct chill in the air so she moved toward the grate to light a fire, as she did, noticing a
sandwich with one bite out of it lying abandoned on a low table. She frowned and instinctively
called out.

“Harry?”

She moved over to the stairs to the boys’ dormitory and called up them but to no answer.
Considering asking the Fat Lady if he had come through she moved back towards the portrait hole,
only to freeze, hearing the faintest noise.

“Hermione…”

It was a croaky whisper but she thought she recognized it as Harry- and it was in the room with
her. She stayed still, peering into the corners of the room and called again.

“Harry? Where are you?”

The voice was slightly stronger this time.

“Help…me…”

Her blood turned cold at the desperation she could clearly hear in it and she whirled around,
wildly stretching her arms out to try and find him, calling his name, reaching for the soft fabric
of the Invisibility Cloak. Then she stopped for a moment, and for some reason she couldn’t explain,
found herself turning her gaze slowly upwards.

There, pinned with his back hard against the ceiling, was Harry.

She blinked several times, not fully trusting her eyes. “Harry?”

He drew what appeared to be a painful breath and spoke again.

“Help…me…”

Her shock evaporated and she sprang into action, stepping up onto an armchair in a futile effort
to get closer to him.

“Harry… What are you…?” Her frightened voice trailed off as she noted his face turning a shade
that indicated he was struggling for air. His eyes were clearly visible, his glasses fallen off,
and they were wide and terrified – the only part of his body moving as they darted around in
panic.

Hermione’s hand dove frantically into her pocket to grab her wand, pointing it up at him, she
tried a number of spells and counter curses, all proving equally ineffectual. Panic rising in her
chest, she abandoned her wand and reached up with her hand towards him.

“Harry!! Reach out to me…” she called, straining with all her effort to stretch high enough to
touch him.

Surprisingly, his arm came away from the ceiling and down, slowly reaching back to her.

Her heart leapt with shock and relief, and then she encouraged him. “That’s it, that’s it, come
to me” she said, both arms reaching out as his other arm came away to reach back.

His eyes registered his own shock and then his concentration, as he focused on her - reaching
both arms down, his body very slowly coming away from the roof and descending toward her.

His progress painfully slow, he kept floating down to her outstretched hands until finally their
fingertips came into contact, and they both clawed for each other’s grip.

Grasping his hands, Hermione pulled him desperately in to her, moving her hands up to his
wrists, then his arms, gathering him in. Their eye contact never faltered as they both fought the
panicked feeling that she might not be able to hold him, but those fears were allayed as his feet
came to rest gently on the armchair, his toes facing hers.

They stood there holding tightly on to each other’s arms, both breathing heavily. Finally,
Hermione spoke, in barely a whisper; as if afraid anything louder would send him away again.

“Are you okay?”

He nodded, though obviously shaken and together they climbed cautiously down off the chair, not
breaking contact. On solid ground again, the relief was tangible, though they still stayed locked
tightly together. Hermione looked up at him with a questioning gaze.

“What happened?”

Harry shook his head.

“I…I don’t know. I was a feeling a bit strange, but I just sat down to eat” he turned and looked
back at the abandoned sandwich, “And then…I just started rising.” His hands tightened on her arms
at the memory. “And I couldn’t stop. It was like I was being pushed through the ceiling” he
finished.

Hermione frowned, and then her eyebrows shot up. “Harry! Do you know what this could mean?” she
breathed.

He searched her face and then shook his head, she went on.

“You may have…inherited one of…his powers.”

The realization dawned slowly on his face as she watched, and she held on to him, steadying him
again. “I can…fly?” he asked, his voice incredulous.

“Quite possibly” she said slowly, turning to look at the portrait hole as if gauging the
distance. “But I think we should ask Dumbledore.” She looked back up at his face. “Do you think you
could make it back there?”

He looked towards the hole too and then back at her. “I think so – if you keep hold.”

She slipped her arm around his back to hold his waist and pulled his other arm across her
shoulders, clutching that hand.

“Come on” she said as she stooped to pick up his glasses from the floor and they moved as one to
the portrait hole. The deafening cheers gave them both a fright as they stepped through, neither
acknowledging the full portrait as they made their way slowly down the passage towards the
Headmasters office again.

At last they reached the damaged stone gargoyle who whimpered weakly in their direction as they
passed and found themselves again ascending the moving spiral staircase, pressed tightly to each
others side.

Opening the door, their eyes immediately sought the golden framed portrait of Dumbledore. Both
their hearts sank as they saw it was empty.

Several other Headmasters had left their frames and still more were asleep now. Armando Dippett
woke and turned to them in his frame to sleepily wave and say ‘Yes Bravo!” before nodding off
again.

Harry hung his head, bitterly disappointed. Then he received a quick squeeze on his hand as
Hermione nudged him.

“Harry… Look!”

He looked at her face then followed her gaze to a new portrait that hadn’t been there when they
visited last, of a sallow skinned, greasy haired wizard.

Professor Severus Snape.

Harry stared unblinking at the portrait; Snape’s eyes staring steadily back out at him.

“Sn…Professor Snape?” he asked.

“Harry” Snape’s voice intoned as he adjusted his cloak, sitting comfortably in his frame.

“I didn’t know… I’m glad you’re here.” Harry managed.

Snape nodded briefly in reply. His eyes flickered to Hermione then he sat back, obviously
waiting for Harry to state his business.

Harry looked down at Hermione who nodded her encouragement up at him from under his arm.

“Uh, Professor, where is Professor Dumbledore?”

“He has gone to his portrait at the Ministry” replied Snape. He considered his next words then
appeared to decide upon telling them. “There is some…problem. A few Deatheaters have escaped on
their journey to Azkaban” he finished.

Harry’s interest was piqued, but Hermione’s firm grip around his middle reminded him of his more
pressing problem.

“Sir…ah, I, something’s happening with me.”

“Something always is.” Snape remarked dryly, but without malice.

Harry formed the words in his head but tossed them out for sounding ridiculous. Luckily,
Hermione spoke for him.

“I think he can fly” she said, matter of fact. “I found him stuck to the ceiling of the common
room.”

Snape raised his eyebrow a fraction but appeared otherwise unmoved. He sat in thought for a
moment before speaking.

“And what piece of charm work did you use to get him here then, Miss Granger?”

Hermione frowned and looked up at Harry. “Well…I didn’t – I just sort of reached out for him
…and then I’ve been holding on to him since then.”

The pair weren’t certain, but something resembling a smile crossed Snape’s face for a second,
then it was gone. He waited again, choosing his words it seemed.

“Flying is a very complex form of magic, of which I do not have full understanding. I’m afraid
the only person who could advise you on that, is Professor Dumbledore.”

Harry’s voice rose a little in frustration. “Well, how long will he be?”

“I’m sure I don’t know, Harry.”

Snape’s use of his first name seemed to placate Harry a little and he sighed. “I’m sorry, sir.
It’s just, what do I do until then?”

Snape looked from Hermione to Harry. “As I say, I’m unfamiliar with the intricacies of this
magic. I do know that it takes superior mind control” he stated, arching an eyebrow and Harry knew
they were both remembering their dismal Occulmency lessons. “Other than that, I recommend that you
continue to …hold on.” He directed this last comment at Hermione.

They both stared at him dumbstruck as he regarded them calmly. Finally, Hermione broke the
silence, addressing Harry.

“I think we should go to the library.” Harry turned to look at her, unconvinced, but followed
her anyway as she turned them both towards the oak door. Snape stopped them as they reached for the
door handle.

“I’ll send word when the Professor returns.”

They both turned back and Harry nodded his thanks, directing a slight smile at his old
nemesis.

“Well… that was …interesting.” Hermione commented as they descended staircase.

“Strange to see him again, now, so soon” muttered Harry. They’d stopped at the gargoyle and
looked both ways. Hermione came to a decision.

“Look, let’s make it to the Library; surely we’ll find something there.”

He looked down into her hopeful face and decided against telling her he was skeptical. He
nodded.

“We should use the cloak- I don’t want to be running into anyone right now” he said.

“Good idea” she replied as together they struggled to get the cloak out of his pouch and
covering the both of them without breaking contact. Hermione let go of his hand to adjust it over
her head and they both gave a startled jump as his feet left the ground for a fraction before she
grasped him again. Exchanging a nervous glance they set off to the fourth floor.

They made their way to the Library and Hermione went into study mode, perusing the shelves as
fast as she could while still remaining attached to Harry’s side. He halfheartedly helped her as
she pulled out titles, flicking through them and muttering to herself then replacing them on the
shelves. He didn’t actually see how anything from a book was going to help him with this particular
problem, and despite everything, he was bone tired, and found himself leaning on her a little
heavier at times, before pulling himself up and shaking away the tiredness. Noticing this, Hermione
selected some books and led him to a table where she set to work leafing through the volumes and he
promptly dropped his head on the table and fell asleep, his hand draped around her shoulders and
his fingers laced through the hand she wasn’t using to turn the pages.

He was nudged gently awake. Hermione was peering at him through tired eyes, his unspoken
question answered as she shook her head with a forlorn expression. He closed his eyes again and
pushed himself up, opening them to look around the dark library and try to wager how long they’d
been there.

“Come on” she said as she helped him to stand. “I’ll get a few more from the restricted section
and we’ll go back up to the common room.”

Gratefully he followed her as she grabbed some more books; he tucked them under the spare arm
that wasn’t around her and they made their way out of the Library and up the Grand staircase. They
made sure the cloak still covered them both although they met with no one on the way back, aside
from a couple of ghosts, lost in intense conversation as they glided along the hall. The Fat Lady
was snoring heavily as they approached the portrait, obviously having indulged in some celebratory
beverages, her only reply to Hermione’s whispered password a hiccup as she swung open. Relieved to
find the room empty, Harry still decided to keep the cloak on. He looked down at Hermione.

She looked up at him with red rimmed eyes and made an effort at a reassuring smile but he knew
she was worried. And so was he. But now it was for an entirely different reason.

He’d been considering something on the way up to the common room. How, and where, were they
going to sleep? It wasn’t as if he was uncomfortable being so close to Hermione, they’d apparated
so much under the cloak together that nothing about their nearness felt unusual. But now, here they
were, faced with either a sleepless night, or a night sleeping together and his stomach gave an
uncomfortable squirm as he conjured a picture of Ron’s face in his mind once he found out. Perhaps
his thoughts were visible on his face because Hermione volunteered a solution.

“Uh…well, we’ll just settle by the fire shall we- I’ll stay up and read a bit more anyway I
think…” her voice trailed off and he realised she must’ve been contemplating their situation
too.

Harry took in her tired appearance and was overwhelmed with a wave of affection for her- her
never-ending loyalty and support of him. He shook his head.

“No, Hermione, your eyeballs are hanging out. You’ve got to sleep.”

She said nothing and lowered her eyes, knowing he was right but not sure where to go from
there.

“Look, come on.” Harry led them towards the boys’ dormitory. Hermione resisted.

“Wait… I can’t…”

He stopped and looked at her. “You can come up here, but I can’t go into the girls dormitory-
remember?” They both recalled the transfigured slide that had appeared when Ron had tried to climb
the steps to the girls dorm once before. “You need some sleep, I need some sleep- it’s the only
place there’s room for both of us.” She stood still looking at her feet but nodded in agreement.
Slightly bemused by her manner he teased her.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be the perfect gentleman…” he grinned.

That got the desired response as she smiled back, shaking her head. “It’s not that, Harry.” He
knew she meant Ron, but chose not to bring it up, they needed sleep and that was that. They moved
together up the stairs, Harry listening out now for any sounds that might indicate they weren’t the
only lodgers in Gryffindor tonight.

But his dorm room was thankfully empty and he led her over to his bed, laying the books on the
bedside table along with his glasses. He stepped on his heel to remove his shoe and Hermione
followed suit, taking hers off too. Awkwardly they both made attempts to get onto the bed, not
succeeding until Hermione took charge.

“Hang on, lets try something” she said, turning into his chest. “I’ve got a theory.”

They stood facing each other and she slowly removed her arm from around his waist, not letting
go of the hand that was draped around her shoulder, but twisting out from under his arm. She held
this hand with both of hers for a moment before grasping his other hand and they stood there,
tentatively moving away from each other a little.

She smiled to herself. “It works.”

She sighed at Harry’s confused expression. “Skin contact” she said simply. “As long as we have
skin contact, I think you’ll be alright.”

He took silent stock of the feeling in his body and realised she was right, he felt grounded
still, not in danger of floating away again. He grinned at her intelligence. “You’re a genius” he
said.

She smiled slightly at his compliment and then motioned to the bed; they kept both hands clasped
as they knelt onto the bed and lay down next to each other on the roomy mattress. Cautiously they
dropped one hand, keeping the hands closest to each other joined, testing the necessity of
connection. It seemed sufficient and they relaxed a little, Harry pushing his head gratefully back
into his soft pillow. He looked across at his friend.

“You okay?”

She nodded sleepily and turned onto her side to face him, still keeping her fingers interlocked
with his. Her eyes had already started to close and he sat up slowly, reaching for the throw
blanket at their feet and pulling it up to cover them both. He watched her face soften as she fell
to sleep, and pulled the blanket up to her shoulder.

“Thanks, Hermione” he said quietly and she smiled in her sleep. He closed his eyes too and was
asleep within the minute.

~*~

[edit] Months after I wrote this story, I realised where the inspiration for this chapter came
from…It was the scene in the 80’s vampire movie ‘The Lost Boys’; where Jason Patric starts turning
into a vampire and nearly gets pushed through his bedroom ceiling as he starts to fly. The scene
used to be on youtube but has since been removed…downer. But if you ever get a chance to see it,
that’s my muse! Thanks for reading x



2. Morning Light
----------------

Chapter Two

Morning Light

Light slowly filtered into the dormitory through the windows to fall upon the two lying close
together on the four poster bed.

Harry opened his eyes first and found himself staring at the bed hangings overhead, his
recollection of the previous night returning to his waking mind. With a slight jolt he realised
that the soft touch on his cheek was Hermione’s hair, her head now tucked into the crook of his
neck, both her hands holding one of his, with her body pressed against his side. She breathed
evenly, still fast asleep.

He stayed completely still, looking around the room at the other empty beds. He grimaced a
little, thinking of the picture they would make to anyone coming in the door- why they hadn’t
thought of shutting the curtains of the bed last night, he could only put down to their extreme
tiredness. Now, he didn’t want to move to wake her, but he suspected she’d be mortified if they
were discovered like this. He experimented with shifting his weight to reach for his glasses but
she didn’t stir. He squeezed her hand a little.

“Hermione?” he spoke softly.

“Mmm.” She pulled her head back on the pillow, and he turned to look at her. He gently touched
her shoulder and her eyes came slowly open.

“Harry” she whispered in a hoarse voice. Then her eyes shot wide open and she threw herself
violently backwards away from him, almost falling off the bed until Harry caught her by her hand.
She sat up on her knees, staring at him in surprise and he couldn’t help but laugh.

“You right?” He made every effort to suppress his smile.

“I’m fine…I just …forgot where I was.” she said quickly recovering, shifting back a little way
from the edge and gripping his hand firmly. “How’d you sleep?” she asked, brushing her other hand
self consciously through her hair.

He was still smiling at her flustering as he put his glasses on. “Great actually. I was out like
a…” he cut his sentence short as he took his glasses off again and stared confusedly at them in his
hand, his head tilted. He put them back on again only to repeat his actions, taking them off and
staring at them.

“What’s wrong?” Hermione asked.

“I don’t know” he said slowly, still examining his glasses. “They’re not… working.”

Hermione grabbed the glasses from him and looked at them herself. “What do you mean, ‘not
working’?”

Harry continued to frown in thought. “They’re just all blurry…”

He was cut off as Hermione dropped the glasses on the bed and grabbed his face roughly with her
hand, turning it to hers, holding him inches from her face and peering into his eyes. She noticed
he was looking at her like she was crazy but she continued to hold his jaw, examining him.

“Uh… do you mind telling me what you’re doing…?” Harry said in a voice muffled by her fingers
pressing on his cheeks.

She dropped his face but continued to look at him with a worried frown. “I’m guessing you’ve
inherited more than one present from Voldemort.”

He watched her, confused as she leaned over him and grabbed a book. “Here, read this” she said
as she opened a page at random.

He scanned the words for a while before looking back at her in astonishment. “Perfect. I can see
it perfectly.”

“We’ve got to get to the bottom of all this” she said as she moved to get off the bed. Harry
stood to follow, but knocked straight into her as she had frozen in her tracks.

“What is it?” he asked, coming around to see her face.

She looked up at him almost apologetically. “It’s just that… how are we going to get this
through this day Harry? There’s times where… we’re going to need to be alone.”

“Ohh” he replied. “Well, we’re going to have to try it sooner or later.” He pulled back from her
a little looking at his feet and slowly let go of her hand.

They both waited, barely breathing in anticipation. Harry looked up at her slowly.

“I think it’s…”

He stopped talking abruptly as his heels and then his toes rose slowly upwards from the
floorboards. Simultaneously they lunged for each other’s hands again and sure enough, Harry found
himself settle on the ground.

“You have to really concentrate Harry” she said, and again they tried it, this time with him
focusing on the floor, willing himself to stay grounded. This time it took longer before he
succumbed and she nodded her approval before taking his hand. “That’s it; we can do this you know.
I’m sure it’ll come right.” He nodded, grateful again for her confidence -a confidence he wasn’t so
sure he shared.

They tried this again a few times, until he could achieve a full minute fixed to the ground
without her help. Satisfied, Hermione led them to the bathroom where she went quickly about her
morning routine with him on the other side of the door, only having to rescue him once. He did the
same but with less success, Hermione having to stand with him while he brushed his teeth and washed
but eventually they worked it out. She performed a quick charm on his glasses to replace the
prescription lenses with clear glass so as not to attract attention with his newly improved vision.
Shaking his head as they came down the stairs to the common room he gave a shaky laugh.

“This is so humiliating” he muttered, more to himself than anything.

She turned and looked at him frowning. “It is not Harry; it’s only me you know.” He met her eyes
and she held his gaze. “We’ll work this out. There’s not much in these books about it, it seems
sort of …mythical, like there’s a lot of skepticism, but we *know* that it’s possible.
Dumbledore will know what to do, and until then…we’ll work it out.” She led him purposefully to the
couch and set to work leafing through the books from the library again. She cast an eye at him as
he sat next to her on the squashy couch. “Make yourself useful and get us some breakfast” she
teased.

Grateful to have something to do, he summoned Kreacher.

The old house elf appeared with a deafening crack, looking wide awake and eager to help, so
unlike his previous nature at Grimmauld Place that Harry found he was fondly reminded of his old
friend Dobby. Kreacher was wearing a new crisp white towel and holding a brown sack as large as
him.

“Master?”

“Harry, Kreacher, just Harry will do fine.”

“Yes Master” he replied and Hermione shook her head faintly as she was reading.

“Uh…okay well, we’re after some breakfast if that’s alright.” Harry said.

“It’s on its way Master. Also, this is the mail sent to you this morning- I’ve checked it all”
he said proudly. “And this one is most important.” He handed Harry a red envelope before cracking
in and out of the room within the same second, returning carrying food. They both ate without
hesitation, suddenly remembering how hungry they actually were.

Afterwards, Harry tried to open the red envelope with the hand that wasn’t holding Hermione’s,
but sat back as it sprang into life and spoke in a quiet voice.

“Harry, Hermione, you are invited to Fred Weasley’s funeral, followed directly by Nymphadora
Tonks and Remus Lupin’s at Godric’s Hollow, tomorrow, 9am. An informal gathering at the Burrow will
follow after. Please reply for details of official Portkeys. Much love, the Weasleys.”

They both watched as the envelope disintegrated in mid air, the silence filled with too much
emotion to express. Hermione returned to her books again with renewed vigor, now knowing how
difficult tomorrow would be in many ways.

They passed the morning there in the common room, Harry getting Kreacher to open the letters for
him to read while Hermione buried her nose in different books. The mail was from all over the
world, letters from wizarding families expressing their gratitude, mail from people wanting things
from him like the Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly already vying for an exclusive conversation. He
tossed those aside along with the perfume laden love letters from witches of all ages, ignoring
Hermione’s teasing nudges. Kreacher got rather irritated after opening one that contained a trace
of a powdered love potion that enveloped his large nose and caused him to sneeze uncontrollably. He
left then, after confirming that Harry no longer needed him.

“Ok, here we go” said Hermione finally. She pulled a small and tattered book with a purple cover
off the pile and on to her lap, flicking through the pages. “It’s hardly a textbook, but we might
be on to something here” she said as ran her finger down a page she’d marked.

“This is from *‘Spiritual Powers of a Numinous Nature… for the Enterprising Witch”* she
said with a hint of disdain. Reading aloud she continued.

*“Wilda Liddlestein, famous Seeker of the Caerphilly Catapults Quidditch Team found she woke
up with flying powers which seemed to come and go on any given day, her husband commenting that he
had to literally hold her down at times. She was reported missing after her last Quidditch match;
the famous Unfinished Match of 1903 versus the Holyhead Harpies, and it is thought that she simply
floated away.”*

Hermione threw a quick glance at Harry at that, then bent lower to the book and rushed ahead to
the next bit.

*“Well known mystic Sapphire Storm mentions that knowledge of ones self and ones mind is
essential to control this discipline once acquired. She notes that Wilda, at age 23, would have had
difficulty mastering the self control needed to prevent herself becoming involuntarily
airborne.”*

Harry, listening intently, raised his eyebrows and sat back, blowing out a breath. “Well…that
was… cheery.”

Hermione shrugged apologetically. “It’s the only thing I’ve read about flying without objects
that says anything specific, everything else seems to treat it like legend – like something that
can’t really be done.” She squeezed his hand as he looked down, discouraged. “But we know it IS
real Harry, we know Voldemort could do it. And I think it’s all within you.”

He looked into her eyes again, and saw the determination there. “So what do you think I should
do?”

She seemed to be waiting for this question and pulled him up to stand. “We practice.”

Together they worked on her theory for hours, alone in the common room – Harry using all his
concentration to control his body to do his bidding and ignore the impulse to rise. Frequently
getting frustrated he’d curse every time she had to touch him again to keep him grounded but small
improvements became visible and by lunch time he could walk around the room by himself for some
time before giving in to the sensation. Hermione clapped her hands together in glee when he had
managed to sit on the couch for a full five minutes, and though he was hot and tired from his
efforts Harry felt fairly proud too.

Their celebrations were cut short by a crackling sound coming from the fireplace, looking over;
they saw the outline of Minerva McGonagall’s face in the embers. Hermione quickly strode across the
room to sit next to Harry, and pressed her hand discreetly down on his between them as they leaned
forward to listen to the Professor.

“Hermione, Harry, how are you today.” She nodded at each of them in turn as they answered they
were fine. “I gather you got the news about the funerals tomorrow?”

Hermione nodded. “Yes Professor, we’ll be going.”

McGonagall nodded again. “Well I’m letting you know I have a Portkey booked for you in my office
tomorrow morning at 830, a few of us will be there to take that.” The sadness was evident in her
eyes even through the medium of the fire. “And of course, you’re both welcome to stay here as long
as you like, well, until the Board of Directors confirms the future of the school. It does seem
likely we’ll go ahead with finishing the school year and exams, and if that’s the case I’d like to
speak to both of you about seeing out your schooling.” Seeing her adopt the slightly stern manner
they knew her best for gave them both an indescribable comfort. “I am certain we can work out some
dispensation for yourselves and Mr Weasley to bring you up to speed with your year.” Hermione
nodded enthusiastically. “And over the next few days some of the staff and I are setting about
repairing the school- we could certainly use your help if you’d like to of course.”

Harry cast a sideways glance at Hermione and then answered for them both. “Of course.”

“Just find myself or Professor Flitwick when you’re ready, but take your time – you’ve got a lot
of recovering to do, both of you.” She smiled at them warmly. “Let me know if you need anything at
all.”

They nodded and said their goodbyes as her image faded into the darkness of the grate.

Hermione rounded on him. “How are we going to do that?” she said a little sharply.

But as it turned out, the repair work was just what they needed. After a bit more practice, they
decided to get out of the common room and luckily Professor Flitwick assigned them a classroom with
one wall missing to work on - just the two of them alone. They were able to work hand in hand
replacing the bricks with their wands, both of them finding that the repetitive work was a relief
to their overloaded minds and emotions. By the end of the day Harry was able to spend longer
periods by himself too, leaving them more optimistic about tomorrow than they were before.

They even ventured to the Great Hall for dinner, sharing the one house table with the dozen or
so others staying at the school, staff and a few of the older prefects who’d returned to help with
the restoration work. Sitting next to each other they managed to attract no attention with the
occasional contact they had to make. By the end of the day, they’d become quite in tune with each
other and the easy routine they’d developed to stay in contact. Hagrid nearly caused a problem when
he came in late to dinner and picked Harry up off his chair, blubbering over him again as he held
him in a rib bruising embrace. But he released him fairly quickly to drop him back in his chair
with no one the wiser to Harry’s predicament.

As they got more tired however, Harry’s concentration started to slip. Hermione nudged him that
it might be a good time to retire so they slipped away, and if anyone noticed their linked hands,
they didn’t comment on it.

Mounting the stairs from the Entrance Hall, Hermione addressed Harry cautiously.

“Uh… Harry, don’t you think we should tell a few people what’s going on? It would make it a lot
easier getting around.”

Harry frowned and shook his head. “No, we can’t.” She opened her mouth to protest but he went
on. “Not until we talk to Dumbledore. I wanna know what this really means and I… I guess it’s
stupid but, I’m not ready to be the freak again yet.” He avoided her eyes as she looked at him but
she left it at that.

Back at the common room their bedtime routine was less awkward this time. Getting comfortable
lying side by side in the darkness Hermione closed the curtains of the bed with her wand.

“Harry?’ she asked into the inky silence. She was lying on her side facing him, holding his hand
with both of hers again.

“Mmm?”

“Do you think… I think maybe we should have the Invisibility Cloak out too, just in case, you
know?”

She felt Harry move as he retrieved the cloak from his pouch. “Yeah, probably.”

The weight of the gossamer like fabric was only just discernible as Harry laid the cloak over
her legs. She couldn’t see him but felt his breath near her ear as he leaned over to pull it up to
her shoulder and make sure it was covering her. “How’s that?”

“Fine, thanks” she replied and they lapsed into silence again. Sure that he was still awake a
few minutes later, she spoke up again.

“I think we should tell at least… Ron and Ginny.” The names seemed to echo in the quiet bedroom.
Hermione felt Harry shake his head before he spoke.

“No.” He turned over on to his back again. “I’m sorry, I know it could make it difficult
tomorrow, but they’ve both got enough to deal with at the moment without me laying my problems on
them.”

“But I don’t think they’d see it like that Harry – they care about you, and they’d want to
help.”

“Exactly” he replied. “And I just think they should be thinking about themselves at the moment,
not trying to work out my problems again.” Hermione made to protest again but he cut her off.
“Look, don’t worry Hermione. If it gets too difficult …with Ron I mean, then we’ll tell him okay? I
just don’t want to if I can help it.”

Hermione nodded quietly in the darkness. They both lapsed into silence again, each one lost in
their own thoughts until they eventually fell to sleep.

~*~

Harry opened his eyelids a crack to a room bathed in morning light, but he knew instinctively
that the light wasn’t what had woken him. He found out what had a moment later when he heard them
again.

Footsteps.

His eyes flew fully open and he turned to Hermione, still sleeping soundly next to him, making
for a slightly odd sight with only her shoulders and head visible, her lower half still covered
with the cloak. As quietly as he could, he reached over with his other hand and pulled the cloak up
gently over her head, checking it also covered their linked hands. Then he heard a voice.

“Harry?”

Neville. Harry breathed a silent sigh of relief as the imagined images of Ron throwing back the
bed curtains in a rage faded from his mind.

“Yeah, Neville?” he answered and Neville’s hands appeared on the edge of his curtains, his head
popping in behind them.

“Y’right Harry?”

“Hi Neville.” Harry stayed stock still as he spoke; gripping the hand holding Hermione’s firmly,
willing her to have worked out what was happening if she’d woken – and hoping that nothing about
him lying in the bed, apparently by himself, seemed strange.

“Are you taking the Portkey to the funeral? I just got in this morning; Hermione’s here too
isn’t she?”

Harry had a wild impulse to laugh but managed to keep his voice even. “Yeah, we’re both
going.”

“Great” finished Neville as he whisked back the curtains of Harry’s bed, opening them to let the
light in. “Well, I better go call out and wake her up, the Portkey leaves in half an hour.” He
strode away towards the door, Harry only just catching him by calling out.

“No, I think…I think she was flooing home early this morning to pick something up… I think she’s
coming back just before we leave.”

Neville turned at the door. “Alright then, well I’m off to get a quick breakfast.”

Harry waited until well after Neville’s footsteps faded away to turn to Hermione and slowly pull
the cloak away from her face. Her eyes were wide open and she looked like she was still holding her
breath. He raised his eyebrows.

“That was close.”

She nodded but didn’t move, as if still afraid of Neville reappearing. “Too close” she said
quietly. “Quick thinking of you though.” She shook her head. “We’ve got to track down Dumbledore
and work this out – more people will come back every day and I can’t sleep in here with a room full
of boys” she said, frowning.

Harry smiled. “I dunno, I’m getting kind of used to having you around… I’d miss you not lying
next to me now.”

Hermione’s face froze and Harry’s smile evaporated as he realised what he’d just said. “I mean,
I just meant…” he stammered then stopped and looked at her. “I don’t know why I said that…I’m
sorry” he finished.

She shook her head and a very small smile played across her lips. “Its okay” she said, though
she didn’t meet his eyes. “Come on”

They got up, keeping Hermione under the cloak as they went about getting ready. Harry put on a
black shirt, rolling up the long sleeves a little so Hermione could take his forearm or wrist if
she needed to, although Harry was quite pleased to see he needed no help from her as she waited for
him on the other side of the door while he showered and dressed.

They made it to the stone gargoyle at the Headmasters office 5 minutes before departure. Rising
up the staircase, he looked down at Hermione, in a black sleeveless dress under her black traveling
cloak; her hair tied back revealing silver earrings. “You look nice” he said.

“Thanks” she murmured to her feet and then they dropped hands just as they walked through the
oak door and in to McGonagall’s office.

Both of their eyes flew to Dumbledore’s portrait but they were disappointed again to see it was
empty. Snape’s portrait was also vacant, only a few Headmasters were actually in their frames, and
the majority of these were sleeping.

Professor McGonagall greeted them with warm embraces as they joined the circle gathered around a
brown Beater’s club, lying on the desk. Harry found it difficult to swallow when he realised this
must be the Portkey in honour of Fred, its presence serving to remind him he’d never play Quidditch
with him again. Hermione took his hand and squeezed it and he squeezed back.

“We’re just waiting on Miss Lovegood and then that’s everyone” said McGonagall to the circle
which consisted of Neville, and Professors Flitwick, Sprout and Trelawney, who was already crying
fat tears from behind her thick glasses. Luna entered the room at that precise moment, giving
Neville, Hermione and Harry hugs.

Luna stepped back from Harry and held him at arm’s length. “What’s wrong with you?”

Harry looked down at her, eyes wide in surprise. He looked over at Hermione involuntarily who
looked equally stunned. “Uh…nothing…why?”

Luna continued to study him closely with her big silvery eyes. “Hmm” she mused, apparently to
herself. “Something about you.” She turned her steady gaze to Hermione and studied her now. “And
you too” she said simply.

Hermione looked at the assembled group, unnerved, but relieved to see no one was really paying
attention to Luna’s observations. Luna stared a little longer before shrugging her shoulders and
staring off into space.

Harry and Hermione caught each other’s gaze and held it as they all reached forward for the
Beaters club as one.

~*~



3. Funeral for a Friend
-----------------------

Disclaimer: Song credit – the song in this chapter is “It’s your Love” by Tim Mcgraw and Faith
Hill, and is not written or owned by me, just like the characters and HP universe. You can find
this song on you tube if you’re interested.

Chapter Three

Funeral for a friend

The small group landed heavily on the grass in the field next to Godric’s Hollow cemetery.

The wizard village was remarkably full, several hundred witches and wizards crowding the village
square, mainly dressed in black cloaks and hats. The square was filled by a huge black tent,
enchanted to hover without walls or any other ties, as a large covering, providing shade from the
bright morning sun. As they walked towards it they saw three large banners floating inside- giant
photos of Fred, Tonks and Lupin moving slowly as if rippled with a breeze.

Looking down at Hermione, he pressed her arm against his side.

“Ready?” he asked.

She nodded up at him with wide eyes already beginning to shine with tears.

He put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a reassuring hug. Dropping his hand to fit into
hers he led them into the crowd, Hermione motioning to Neville and Luna to follow them.

Familiar faces were everywhere, Lee Jordan and his family, Parvati and Padma Patil wheeling a
frail looking Lavender in a wheelchair who stopped Hermione to hug her tightly and thank her for
saving her from Greyback; Hagrid towering over everyone, knocking hats off with his huge
handkerchief as he dabbed at his eyes already. Making their way to the front they saw a cluster of
redheads by the raised podium, the Weasley family, grouped close together. Three coffins sat high
in sight behind them, one under each of the floating photos and soft music played from an invisible
source to the assembled guests.

Harry made to move toward them then stopped as he saw a woman approaching the Weasley family
that almost had him pulling out his wand.

But his eyes caught the shock of blue hair from the baby in her arms and he realised the witch
he was mistaking for Bellatrix for the second time in his life was in fact her sister and Tonks’
mother Andromeda, holding his godson in her arms.

She moved to wrap her other arm around Molly Weasley who hugged her warmly back then both women
looked down at the sleeping baby between them, Molly smiling a watery smile as she stroked his
cheek. Ginny, at her mothers’ side, leaned in to look at him too and then looked up over his head
to meet Harry’s eyes.

“Harry” she said quietly, at which Molly whipped her head up to look and hold her arms out to
him and Hermione.

“Oh you two” she said as she beckoned them forth and pulled them both in to a hug, before
stepping back and examining them, Harry smiling as she fussed over them, asking if they’d had
breakfast. She pulled them over to the rest of the family who took turns greeting them, and then
Neville and Luna, with hugs and kisses on cheeks.

Harry bent down to Ginny, and she wrapped her arms around him quite forcefully, holding him
tightly. He pressed his lips against the top of her head as she held on, her body moving with her
silent sobbing. He looked up and saw Hermione watching them, almost curiously. He realised she was
standing far enough away to give him some privacy, but close enough to be there if he needed her
and his chest swelled with emotion as they locked eyes; that she was so infused with grief but
still thinking of him. He tried to portray his thanks without words and he noticed her lips moved
into a soft smile.

“Hey hey that’s enough now, it’s supposed to be a funeral, not a school dance”. George Weasley
playfully tapped Ginny on the shoulder and Harry laughed and detached himself from Ginny to return
his rough hug. George smiled back, a smile that was so a part of him that Harry recognised but
never had it been accompanied with the sad eyes George now had. George turned and embraced Hermione
next, making some joke to make her smile also.

Then finally Ron stepped through as the last of the family to greet them and Harry hugged him
warmly.

“How are you holding up?” Harry asked quietly.

Ron shook his head. “Happy you guys are here” he said with a brave attempt at a smile. Then he
turned to Hermione and brushed at a tear on her cheek. “You’re not supposed to cry yet, it hasn’t
started!” he joked and she smiled despite herself, moving in to hug him. Harry watched Ron’s smile
disappear as he brought her close and held her.

A feeling of dread began to curl in the pit of Harry’s stomach, getting slowly stronger; he
hurriedly studied the ground, concentrating with all his might on the feelings overwhelming him,
threatening to lift him off the ground. Ginny was saying something to him but he couldn’t hear her,
he couldn’t focus on anything but the ground, he’d been so quickly overwhelmed he couldn’t even
risk looking at Hermione again for help -for fear his last shred of concentration would break, and
he knew he was barely keeping his weight on the floor.

Then he felt a cool hand touch his forearm, the sensation seeming to spread over his skin in a
calming effect, allowing him to hear again – to slowly lift his eyes and see Hermione in front of
him, now disengaged from Ron and saying something he couldn’t hear.

“Wh…What?” he stuttered

She pulled gently at his arm. “I said come and meet Teddy.” She led him to Andromeda and he put
his other hand over top of hers, so grateful she had come through again. That had been the worst
incident in a while and he was shaken, she seemed to know as she firmly gripped his arm. He stole a
look back at Ginny who was watching them but then she quickly looked away, and at Ron who had gone
on to greeting Luna. Turning back to follow Hermione he whispered under his breath.

“Thanks.” Her fingertips contracted on his forearm in quick response, and then he was looking at
his godson.

His heart constricted almost painfully as he gazed at the little baby close up; sound asleep
with fat lashes fanning out on his soft cheeks. Andromeda smiled up at his awestruck face as he
took in every detail of the beautiful boy. He broke his stare to give Andromeda a kiss on the cheek
and then she held the baby up to him.

“Here Harry, have a hold.” She stepped closer to him to pass him over.

Harry’s eyes grew wide in objection. “No no… I don’t know how to hold him…I don’t know anything
about babies…”

Hermione stood close by his elbow and smiled at him as she helped nestle the boy in his arms,
moving close to the baby as not only a means of keeping contact with Harry, but to stare at Teddy
closely too. “You’ll be okay Harry, just relax” she said brushing back Teddy’s light blue hair from
his forehead and kissing him gently there, Harry watching her. He looked back to Andromeda.

“Andromeda…I’m… so sorry” was all he could manage to convey his heartbreak for her losses and
she nodded, her still pretty face etched with grief but also gratitude.

“Come on” she said, motioning towards the second row of seats, behind where the Weasley’s were.
“Let’s sit down”

She left Harry to carry Teddy, Hermione leading him to his chair by his arm, on the pretence of
helping him keep his feet while carrying the baby. They sat down directly behind Ginny and George,
and looked up as Kingsley moved to the lectern on the stage.

The service was flawless, Fred’s memorial held first, with speakers for him taking to the stage,
telling story after story of Fred’s infamous escapades. Lee Jordan bought the house down with
stories that had even Molly laughing and Percy surprised everyone by giving a great speech on
behalf of his parents and other siblings who didn’t feel up to speaking – even fondly showing his
Prefects badge that Fred had bewitched years ago to read ‘Pinhead’ and that he’d unexpectedly kept
in it’s transformed state.

Harry sat as still as possible at first, afraid of waking Teddy, but the baby slept on, giving
the odd start at the louder laughter but staying fast asleep. He held one of Hermione’s fingers in
a chubby fist, a brilliant idea of hers as she was able to lay her arm on Harry’s arm to keep her
hand linked with Teddy’s.

Halfway through Lee’s speech Ginny turned in her seat and looked at Harry, attempting a smile
but having limited success. He smiled back at her trying to read her face. Her brown eyes were
swollen and red rimmed as they looked fondly at little Teddy, and then Harry noticed her catch
sight of Hermione’s hand resting on his. He felt Hermione shift uncomfortably and turned to look at
her, surprised to find her blushing a little self consciously. He turned back to Ginny to find
she’d looked away again.

George was the last one to speak for Fred and the large crowd fell silent as he walked up,
wondering how George was going to hold up. Bravely he stood and gave a big smile, starting with a
joke about how his lost ear meant they were actually mourning 1.3 of the Weasley twins today. The
crowd laughed, intently listening to all the funny and sad things George had to say, all of his
friends and family glowing with pride at his effort. He finished with a great shuddering breath –
his only indication of the difficulty he’d had speaking, and then Fred’s favourite song was played,
an up beat tune that had people smiling more than anything.

Teddy woke but lay silently looking up at Harry’s face, as he bounced him softly in his arms.
Andromeda passed Harry a bottle which he fed to Teddy as the service for Remus and Tonks began.

This one had a much more somber air as images of their life were flashed across the floating
banners – Tonks as a happy little toddler, looking so much like Teddy but with bubblegum pink hair.
There were less photos of Remus as a child, the few shown held a shy non smiling boy with light
brown hair that almost covered his eyes. Later photos of him at Hogwarts showed a happier Remus,
though still a little sickly looking, grinning out of the photos with a handsome Sirus, James with
his untidy hair and Peter Pettigrew, the four of them with their arms around each other laughing at
the camera in Hogwarts robes.

Minerva McGonagall delivered a brilliant speech, punctuated by loud honking noises from Hagrid
as she spoke of Dumbledore and his fondness for both Remus and Tonks, and made a plea to all the
wizarding community to continue to fight prejudice in honour of their two brave fallen comrades.
Harry knew a brief moment of uncomfortable scrutiny as she spoke about Teddy and many eyes turned
to him holding the baby, but everyone’s attention was soon diverted back to the banners as photos
of Teddy with his mother and father happily playing with him and holding him gently flashed across
the screen.

Minerva looked tearfully up at the photos herself and then spoke again. “And let us remember our
courageous couple, who not only taught us about fighting for what you believe in and to be who you
are, but to love without restraint. To know that no barrier, not age, nor prejudice, should stand
in the way of loving the person you were born to love.”

Then she introduced a song played at their wedding. The song’s lyrics rang through the quiet
crowd as photos not many had seen of their wedding projected across the screen, a beaming Tonks
staring up at Remus, her bright hair falling in long pink waves over her shoulders. Still more
photos of them played, the couple with their foreheads pressed together, a small smile playing on
Remus’ lips as he looked in awe at his beautiful bride and Hermione gave in to the tears and cried
into her hands as the song’s lyrics rang out.

*Oh it’s a beautiful thing, don’t think I can keep it all in*

*I just gotta let you know, what it is that won’t let you go*

*It’s your love*

*It just does something to me*

*It sends a shock right through me*

*I can’t get enough.*

*And if you wonder*

*About the spell I’m under*

*Oh, it’s your love*

Teddy finished his bottle and gurgled happily and loudly as he watched the pictures changing
overhead. Harry took an arm gently away from under him and wrapped it around Hermione’s shoulder,
pressing her in close to him as she cried. Her face turned in to his chest and he rested his cheek
against her hair, breathing in the perfumed scent of its waves and closing his eyes, willing his
own tears not to spill out as he listened to the lyrics too.

*Better than I was, more than I am*

*And all of this happened, by taking your hand.*

*And who I am now, is who I wanted to be*

*And now that we’re together, I’m stronger than ever*

*I’m happy and free…*

His thumb rubbed her shoulder as she sobbed with her head down, his other arm holding tightly on
to Teddy, Andromeda on the other side of him stroking the baby’s hair and staring at him as the
song finished.

Finally the pallbearers rose from their seats to walk the coffins in procession to the cemetery.
Ginny, Ron, Bill, Charlie, George and Lee Jordan making an even six stationed around his, with
their wands in hand gently touching the coffin to move it along slowly down the centre aisle. A
sobbing Molly Weasley was supported by Arthur to walk behind the coffin as various members of the
Order and teachers from Hogwarts surrounded Lupin, then Tonks, and began to follow the Weasleys.
Kingsley and Minerva were at the head of Lupins’, with Fleur and – Harry gave a little start at
seeing her – the slim blonde frame of Narcissa Malfoy at the head of Tonks’ coffin.

Hermione nudged him, spotting her at the same time and just then Narcissa glanced over to catch
his eye. She nodded lightly at him and then moved forward, her head held high in haughty defiance
as people bent their heads to whisper as she passed. Harry glanced around for the white blond head
of Draco Malfoy or his father but they were nowhere in sight.

The crowd filed out to follow from the front rows back, ensuring Harry with Teddy, Hermione and
Andromeda were graveside as the coffins were slowly lowered. Teddy seemed to understand the solemn
nature of the moment as he sat quietly in Harry’s arms, his big blue eyes the only part of him
moving. Harry closed his eyes at the sound of the Molly’s anguished crying and could only bear a
glance at her with Ginny and George wrapped around her before looking away. He couldn’t help his
eyes from sliding to the gravestones of his parents and he bent his head quickly to kiss Teddy’s
soft cheek in an effort to disguise the tears behind his glasses. Feeling Hermione’s steadying hand
on his arm he thought back to the last time they were there – it felt like a lifetime ago now.

Slowly the crowd began to disperse back towards the square. Andromeda turned to Harry.

“Well I better take this one home” she said quietly and she positioned her hands gently under
Teddy, Harry moved closer to pass him slowly over.

Teddy’s lip gave a small quiver and his face screwed up to cry, his hair changing instantly from
its light blue to a bright orange in his distress. Andromeda chuckled and hushed him.

“Oh Teddy” she smiled “There you go Harry, looks as if you’re going to have to be a regular
visitor with us.”

Harry placed his hand lightly on the little boy’s hair. “I’d love to.”

Andromeda smiled shakily, her emotions threatening to overwhelm her. “I know it was important to
Nymphadora, and Remus, that you be a part of Teddy’s life.”

Harry nodded sadly. “I promise.” Then he remembered something. “He, Remus, he said he was sorry,
but he hoped Teddy would understand that they died for him to live in a world that was a happier
place…” he trailed off, unsure if that had made her feel better or worse, but she smiled through
her tears and drew him into a hug.

“I know. It’s hard, but they wouldn’t have had it any other way…it’s what they believed in. And
at least they’re together.” She looked sadly at the graves then back at Harry. “So, you come by
soon – and bring your lovely girlfriend too.” She gestured to Hermione standing next to Harry
holding his hand.

Harry opened his mouth then closed it again, his protest somehow dying on his lips. He
deliberately avoided looking at Hermione as he nodded. “Yeah, okay sure.”

Hermione had frozen at his side as Andromeda stepped forward to give her a hug too, just
recovering enough to return the embrace of the older woman, still not looking Harry’s way either
when she took his hand again. Then they both noticed Narcissa standing a step or two away waiting
for Andromeda. Saying their goodbyes, they watched as Andromeda turned to walk to her younger
sister, who put an arm around her and they walked out of the cemetery.

Left standing alone, a silence engulfed them that neither one wanted to break first, Harry
awkwardly clearing his throat. His mind was swimming; why hadn’t he corrected Andromeda? Hermione’s
hand in his felt strange for the first time ever and he ventured a look at her. She opened her
mouth to speak and then seemed to think better of it. Shaking her head a little she gestured to the
Weasleys.

“Shall we…head over there?”

He nodded down at her, grateful she was happy to gloss over the moment too. They walked to the
family gathered at the graveside, Hermione discretely dropping his hand when they were a few steps
away.

Ginny looked at Harry and managed a smile. “So, back to The Burrow?”

Harry smiled back. “Yeah that’d be great.”

~*~



4. Lie with Me
--------------

Chapter Four

Lie with me

Witches and Wizards sat in clusters in the late afternoon sun on the lawn of the Weasley’s
home.

The Burrow had been well prepared for the onslaught of visitors with a wide marquee in the
garden, and tables weighed down with food, Butterbeer and pumpkin juice appearing along the sides
as guests arrived.

Harry sat with a group consisting mainly of his Gryffindor Quidditch team on a patch of grass
bathed in sun. George lay on the grass next to a still tearful Angelina Johnson and watching them,
Harry felt a little premonition of something deeper than friendship between them and felt happy for
his two friends. Hermione and Ron sat next to Harry, with Ginny on Ron’s other side, and they’d
spent a nice few hours there, eating, drinking and swapping stories about Fred, Lupin and Tonks.
Bill and Fleur wandered over to sit themselves down next to Luna and Neville in the circle.

Harry reflected gratefully that although she’d stayed near his side, he hadn’t needed Hermione
to touch him all afternoon. Every time he’d felt the swirl in his stomach that he’d come to
recognize would start him becoming airborne again, he’d been able to concentrate his energy
downwards, focusing on breathing and calming himself. It seemed this, accompanied by knowing
Hermione was within reach seemed to be enough for the moment. He felt a flutter of pride that
perhaps they would be able to sort out this problem by themselves, just the two of them – he might
not even need to speak to Dumbledore. But a familiar resentment had started to build up in him – it
was just too ironic that he was in this position again, waiting for Dumbledore to give him
information. He frowned a little and tried to refocus on the conversation.

Ron was filling him and Hermione in on the latest news about the escaped Deatheaters. Arthur
Weasley had reported to his family that, after managing to overpower a couple of Aurors on the way
to Azkaban, Dolohov and Rookwood and a few others were still at large. Ron scowled and dug at the
ground with his wand.

“And the first thing I want to do is help find them” he growled.

Ginny huffed at him. “Oh yeah, that’s really fair to Mum with everything she’s had to go through
isn’t it; you go and get your stupid self killed”

Ron’s face softened at little at that but his famous temper was still alight. “Well can you
stand the fact that they’re still out there? Coz I can’t.” he grumbled.

“The Aurors will track them Ron. They’re nothing now without their Master – you don’t need to
get any heroic ideas in your head” called Bill from across the circle. Admonished by his older
brother, Ron stayed moodily silent.

“Besides” continued Ginny, “School’s starting up again next week” Several heads in the circle
turned at her words. “Dad said the Board of Directors has voted to continue the year as soon as
possible. Something about ‘making a statement of optimism to the magical community” she said, a
little sarcastically.

She seemed to take a deep breath and then continued. “And they’re having a kind of opening feast
and dance at Hogwarts this Friday too.” Her eyes slid across to Harry as she finished.

Harry tried to muster up an enthusiastic smile but couldn’t help worrying about the extra
problems a full school would bring him in his current condition. He shot a look at Hermione who was
frowning slightly, probably considering the same thing.

Watching her thread a blade of grass around her fingers he gently probed a nagging thought that
had been bugging him all day. If he was really honest with himself, his thoughts were turning to
her more and more. Little things, like recognizing light brown flecks in her eyes that he’d never
noticed before. And his conversation with Ron after they’d destroyed the locket had come back to
him unbidden a few times today. *I love her like a sister and I reckon she feels the same way
about me. It’s always been like that.* Hadn’t it? And wasn’t it still? He frowned as he thought
back to the moment he’d said that to Ron, and how he’d barely acknowledged that his words had
sounded oddly hollow to himself at the time. Hermione abandoned her blade of grass, looking up at
him and he hastily looked away.

Just at that moment, McGonagall approached their circle to let them all know that a portkey to
Hogwarts was leaving shortly for those who wanted to stay at the school. Neville and Luna raised
their hands and started to get up. Before Harry could even process this information, Ron spoke
up.

“Hey, you guys should stay here – Mum would love it” he said, looking around at Harry first and
then Hermione.

Harry’s mouth opened a little, his mind thinking frantically of an excuse, but coming up with
nothing. Then he heard Hermione’s voice.

“Oh you know, we should really help the teachers with the school – they’ll need it if everyone’s
coming on Friday.” She was looking at Harry now, her eyebrows raised and he took her cue and
nodded.

“Yeah, there’s so much to be done -it’s a real mess” he volunteered.

Hermione looked at the Weasley’s in turn. “And, we really should let you guys have this time to
yourselves…just a few more days at least” she trailed off as Ron shrugged and picked up his plate
again. Ginny wasn’t as easily distracted and Harry noticed a distinct scowl in Hermione’s direction
but she didn’t say anything as the two of them stood up.

Ginny stood up too. “Well… I’ll see you guys off.” Ron jumped up after her, dusting his hands on
his pants as the four of them along with Neville and Luna said their goodbyes and walked back up
towards the house.

Ron walked a little ahead with Hermione and Ginny stepped in alongside Harry. As they walked
past the groups on the grass, several witches and wizards bent their heads together and even
pointed, it had been that way all day. It seemed that the attention would be worse than ever for
Harry and he frowned a bit at the thought. Ginny looped her arm through his and spoke. “So… how
have you been doing?’

Suddenly Harry realised this was the moment. This was the time that he’d been so looking forward
to, all through the weeks they were on the hunt for the Horcruxs, he’d dreamed of speaking with
Ginny without the shadow of Voldemort hanging over him. Ever since that kiss she’d given him, all
those months ago – though it felt like years. And he had the strangest feeling now, that he didn’t
*want* it. He couldn’t pinpoint the sensation – but he felt infinitely more disturbed by it
when his eyes automatically went up to seek out Hermione walking in front. He felt out of control
again and his instinct to look for her was starting to unsettle him.

“I’m fine.” He knew it was a lack luster answer and not at all what she was after but he had
nothing else. “And… you?”

She looked at him, a million questions in her eyes but just shrugged. “I’m getting by.” They
walked a bit longer. “I feel like I haven’t had a chance to talk to you, properly.”

“Hmm” said Harry, looking at the ground. Say something, he admonished himself. “I know, so much
has gone on and…” he looked back at her and saw her eyes welling with tears. “Oh Gin… don’t
cry…”

She leaned into him as he walked slowly. “I’m sorry Harry. It’s just; I’ve missed you so
much.”

“Me too” he mumbled, though he felt a little shock realizing he hadn’t really thought about them
for a while. He looked down at her pretty face and shook himself sternly. “It’ll be good to see you
back at school.” It was lame, but the best he could do.

Her bright eyes looked hopeful. “Yeah it will. We’ll have lots of time then.”

They’d reached the group leaving for Hogwarts and she put her arms around his waist. Her face
turned up to him but he pulled her quickly into a hug. She stepped back, Ron joining her as Harry
turned towards Hermione, ready to take the portkey. He felt shaky all of a sudden and automatically
linked the hand that wasn’t touching the Beaters club with Hermione’s. As the sensation of the
enchantment began to overtake them he looked back to Ginny and Ron, realizing too late that their
joined hands hadn’t gone unnoticed.

Arriving back in McGonagall’s office, the first thing both of them did was check the portraits
but to no avail, both Dumbledore’s and Snape’s were still empty. Feeling discouraged he stalked out
of the office, managing a goodbye hug for Luna at the bottom of the stairs before he, Neville and
Hermione turned towards Gryffindor Tower.

“You okay?” Hermione ventured as they walked.

“Yeah” he nodded, knowing his thoughts were too complicated to unravel just yet.

Stepping through the portrait hole, he realised his other problem tonight – it wasn’t just the
two of them here anymore. Neville being there added to their worries and as he sat down to eat a
dinner provided on the low tables by the house elves, he mulled over their best plan of attack.
Neville solved it for them later when he retired early so Hermione went to the girls’ dorm and got
ready for bed, after Harry assured her he’d be alright by himself.

Staring into the fire and reflecting on the day, he let the feelings and questions swirling in
his head come to light. Why was he so stand offish with Ginny? Did he just need time? And, he could
barely acknowledge this thought, what would happen when Ron found out what was going on – how close
he’d had to be with Hermione. In the past it might not have bothered him, the three of them had
always been there for each other. But now, Ron and Hermione were together, weren’t they? He cringed
inwardly as he remembered again the moment they’d destroyed the locket Horcrux and Ron’s famous
jealous nature.

Maybe it was part of what was happening with him physically – yes that was it. He smiled
slightly, pleased with his reasoning. And all the stuff with Hermione was just him being grateful
to her, his friend who never let him down. His strange thoughts about her would sort themselves out
once he found out what was happening and he resolved to go straight to the Headmaster’s office
first thing in the morning and track Dumbledore down to get it all sorted.

Returning quickly, Hermione came down the stairs from the girls’ dorm, and he smiled at the
picture she made walking towards him, dressed in a singlet and pyjama bottoms, her hair braided for
the night.

“What?” she said as she finished tying a braid.

He shifted and looked at his feet. “No nothing, just, thanks Hermione. You were great
today.”

She actually blushed a little and then shook her head sadly. “It was a hard day.”

He nodded, pulling the cloak out of his pouch as he stood up. “I know.” He looked at her again,
his mouth going inexplicably dry. “And I really couldn’t have done it without you.”

She smiled up at him. “You’re not getting all mushy on me are you?”

He threw the cloak over her head and rubbed it into her face in answer and she giggled.

They made their way to the stairs and climbed quietly, Harry leading the way. Entering the room,
they were reassured by Neville’s loud snores, but stayed quiet as Harry lead her to the bed,
helping her in and closing the curtains before going by himself to the bathroom. A short time later
he climbed in to bed himself, slowly feeling his way in the dark and conscious of squashing her. He
could tell she was lying on her side facing him and when he went to grasp her hand, it felt like
the most natural thing in the world to lift her up a little to lay her back down on his arm, into
the crook of his shoulder, her warm body curved against his side.

And he realised straight away it was a mistake. Lying still, there in the dark, he couldn’t
ignore the sensation of how they molded together. He’d never lain with someone like this before-
he’d held Ginny close but this was different, and he didn’t know how he knew, but he just knew that
not everyone fit like this. What’s more, he felt her body stiffen momentarily, as if she was
noticing the same thing.

He fought to calm himself and think rationally; slowly blowing out a breath he didn’t realize
he’d been holding. It’s just comfort, he reasoned, after an emotional day. He squeezed her bare
shoulder and pushed his head back into his pillow, staring unseeing at the hangings overhead. She
settled into him with her hand on his chest and he closed his eyes, nowhere near sleep. It would be
a long night.

~*~

Harry woke to Neville’s customary banging around as he went about getting ready. Immediately
checking the curtains were fully closed, he looked down at Hermione, still tucked into his side. He
pulled the invisibility cloak up and at the last moment, decided to cover both of them.

Underneath it with her, he moved position slightly to watch her sleep, her breathing even as he
studied her face. He took in her smooth skin, her cute, straight nose. He convinced himself to
stop, closing his eyes again, but found his attention drawn instead to the gentle rise and fall of
her breath as she pressed against him. Neville appeared to leave the room but Harry stayed still
for a moment longer, with his eyes still closed.

She stirred a little and he heard her voice.

*“…Don’t move yet… Just lay here… just lie with me like this and forget everything
else…*”

His eyes jolted open to stare at her. Her still closed eyes slowly opened and registered his
shocked face with confusion of her own.

“What… what’s wrong?” she whispered. He pulled back from her on the bed.

“Did you just say… did you just say anything?”

She was watching him warily now, both of them still under the cloak. “No….why?”

He sat up, alarmed. “I just heard you say something”

“I didn’t…” She screamed and jumped up, the cloak falling to the floor as she withdrew right to
the other end of the bed, away from him.

He reached towards her instinctively and she flinched a little, but held her ground. He felt
genuinely scared by the expression on her face and was relieved when she took his hand again.
“What??” he asked a little frantically.

“Your eyes Harry. They glowed red.” She got the words out calmly but he could see she didn’t
feel very calm at all.

The colour drained from his face and he stared at her for a moment, before dropping her hand and
pushing himself back, away from her now. When he spoke again, his voice was low and steady.

“Hermione, you need to get away from me.”

Her shocked expression turned immediately scornful. “Don’t be ridiculous Harry.”

He shook his head, backing away and off the bed, pulling back the curtains with him.

“No, I’m serious Hermione, you need to get away…I don’t… I can’t trust myself…”

She moved towards him and he retreated further as she made to grab for his hands. “Harry look at
me.”

He ventured a look and she held his stare, her jaw set in determination. “*I* trust you.”
He shook his head and she repeated it. “I trust you, okay? That’s enough.”

“NO IT’S NOT!” he yelled. He scrambled for his wand, not finding it straight away in his
confusion, his hands searching his bedside drawer. Grasping it in his hand, he held a shaking arm
up to point it at her. “Get away from me Hermione, I mean it.”

She’d already pulled her own wand out and with an impatient flick of her hand, disarmed him
without a word. Even in his confused state, he acknowledged a flicker of admiration at her growing
skills.

“I’m not going anywhere Harry.” Her eyes blazed at him.

Staring back, confused, he could just make her out; her image swimming in front of his vision.
He reached for her and she caught his hands, moving in close, looking at his face. With a
bittersweet relief he gave in and she crushed herself against him, hugging him tightly.

~*~



5. Secrets and Lies
-------------------

Chapter Five

Secrets and Lies

A low fire crackled in the grate of the Gryffindor common room.

Watching the embers, Harry and Hermione sat side by side in two squashy armchairs, having spent
the morning in relative silence. After getting ready and having a breakfast in the common room they
were sat there both lost in their own thoughts. Finally, Hermione spoke.

“So… Do you think you… read my thoughts?” She didn’t meet his eyes and he noticed a slight flush
on her cheeks as she looked at the ground.

“I think so” he ventured. “I don’t know. I heard you speak, but I know… your lips weren’t
moving.” He felt his own cheeks warm a little, suddenly remembering how he’d been studying her.

She nodded and spoke, almost to herself. “Legilimency. It’s all falling into place.” He shifted
uncomfortably and she reached an arm out to touch him.

“Harry, you need to remember that you’re not him. You never have been and you never will be.
This is happening and yes it’s frightening, but you’re still you, okay?” She reached up and touched
her fingers to his hair in an unconscious gesture. “You’ll be okay.”

He closed his eyes at her touch but said nothing.

Together they made their way to the Headmaster’s office, only to be disappointed again as the
gargoyle had been repaired and they had no password. Harry was nervous about meeting up with any of
the other people at Hogwarts but Hermione talked him round, telling him he couldn’t just sit and
dwell on it all day. They ended up spending a busy morning with Luna and Neville at the
Greenhouses, helping Professor Sprout replace glass and repot plants that had been damaged by the
rampaging giants.

The next few days passed quickly, all of them being kept occupied by the repairs throughout the
school and the grounds. Harry was amazed how quickly everything was returning to its original state
– and in some places better, but Hermione reminded him that the school, with it’s own magic was
repairing a lot of the damage itself. The four House hourglasses were now twice as tall with
magnificent carved details along the top and bottom of each glass and the stones within were all
double their previous size, each one roughly as big as a Snitch.

Dumbledore remained frustratingly absent and Harry’s resentment grew by the day, although he’d
had no more incidents of reading anyone’s thoughts. He thought perhaps that was because he so
desperately didn’t want to, didn’t want to have any more in common with Voldemort.

Sitting down to lunch next to Hermione and Luna in the Great Hall the day before the opening
feast, he reflected that he was speaking less with Hermione each day and he pretty much avoided eye
contact with her altogether. She was surprisingly fine with this – though he couldn’t blame her,
she didn’t want anyone invading her thoughts, and who would? But she still stayed close to him,
still sought his hand for him in his weaker moments, when he was tired or wasn’t concentrating.

He was infinitely grateful but he’d neglected to tell her that he had actually started
practicing controlling the sensation, when he was alone in the bathroom or anywhere, letting
himself hover a few inches off the ground before bringing himself down again. That however, wasn’t
the only secret he was keeping from her.

He had only barely admitted to himself that he was spending every day looking forward to going
to bed at night. No matter how much he tried to deny it, his thoughts often wandered ahead to the
moment they would lie quietly together to sleep.

Neither of them had spoken about it, but they had taken to lying every night, as they had the
night of the funeral, her body pressed into his side, their linked hands resting on his chest. Last
night they had lain awake, silent in the darkness for a long time before finding sleep.
Intertwining their fingers in the dark, Hermione’s thumb found the remnants of Umbridges’ cruel
punishment, the raised scar on the back of his hand – and she lightly traced the words *I must
not tell lies* until Harry slept.

Pushing his guilt ridden thoughts to the back of his mind, he tuned in to the conversation at
the table. Apparently, McGonagall had told them all to go to Hogsmede this afternoon and take some
well earned time off- have a look around the newly opening shops, and perhaps pick up something to
wear to the dance, a suggestion popular with all the girls at the table. Hermione nudged him and he
glanced at her quickly then back at his plate.

“You wanna go?”

He shrugged, still not meeting her eyes but knowing that they were hopeful, and so, though he
didn’t want to go at all, he agreed. “Okay.”

An hour later he found himself walking down the High Street of Hogsmede with Neville, Luna and
Hermione, the girls opting to pull them in to Gladrags Wizardwear. He sat reluctantly in a chair
against a dusty mirror as the others looked around at the range of robes and muggle clothes on
display. Luna came whirling out of the dressing room in a relatively sedate creation, a lilac
coloured dress with a train and flowing sleeves that almost reached the ground. The colour looked
pretty on her and he told her so, extracting a small smile. Neville came out looking like a tall
but dashing penguin in a black dress robe with a white under collar and bow tie. With a sigh Harry
stood up, realizing he should make some sort of effort and wandered over to the menswear
section.

He stopped in his tracks as Hermione was pushed reluctantly out of the dressing room by a
determined Luna. She had on a strapless cobalt blue dress in an intricate fabric, fitted and floor
length. Shyly she examined her reflection, glancing at him for his opinion as she ran her hands
over her waist.

“What do you think?”

He didn’t trust himself to answer as his mouth had gone dry. Nodding and shoving his hands in
his pockets he looked at the floor.

“It’s nice” he said quietly.

She looked at the mirror again critically. “I don’t know… it’s a bit much maybe. It’s too
expensive anyway” she said as she turned and made her way back to the dressing room.

“I’ll get it for you” he called out without thinking. She turned around and stared at him. “I
mean… I’d like to get it for you. If you want.”

She smiled a little then shook her head. “No, I couldn’t let you” she said honestly.

“No really, please. It’s the least I can do for you.” He stepped forward and took her hand,
holding her arm out and looking down at her with mock criticism. “I s’pose you look alright in it”
he teased to break the tension and she shoved him playfully.

Neville walked back at that moment and breathed out audibly. “Wow Hermione… you look…Wow.”

Harry smiled. “Yeah you do.”

Turning back into the dressing room he saw her barely hidden smile.

He gave in to Luna and Hermione’s pressure to get himself a new suit too, in more of a muggle
style, but he refused a neck tie of any sort, just opting for a white shirt. A plain black dress
robe fitted over it nicely and he paid, despite Hermione and the others continually objecting, for
all of their new clothes.

They spent a lazy afternoon wandering from shop to shop; most of the old shops reopened now, and
Harry couldn’t help but feel his spirits lift seeing the place coming to life again. The Post
Office seemed to be receiving a decent number of owls now, probably the best sign that the
wizarding community was becoming active again after the horrors of the war. They were warmly
welcomed at The Three Broomsticks by Madame Rosmerta and after drinking the Butterbeers she
insisted were on the house, they strolled back up to the gates of Hogwarts, sharing some Cauldron
Cakes and Peppermint Humbugs they’d bought from Honeydukes. Laughing with Luna and Neville, Harry
glanced across to Hermione and gave her a small smile and she grinned back, looping her arm through
his.

That night, everyone ate dinner in the common rooms as the Great Hall was being decorated for
the dance the following night. Luna came into the Gryffindor common room to eat with Harry, Neville
and Hermione, along with Seamus who had just arrived. His bruised face was improving somewhat but
he’d come a day earlier to see if Madam Pomfrey could speed things along for the dance.

Luna stayed around till late, well after both Neville and Seamus had gone to bed and he noticed
Hermione’s eyelids getting heavy as the three of them sat talking around the fire. The tiredness he
felt himself was being kept slightly at bay by the butterflies in his stomach, though he tried hard
to ignore them. He knew they were caused by his anticipation of going to bed and he did his best to
push away the thought, rubbing his eyes hard.

Opening them again, he discovered his vision had turned milky, just making out Luna’s fair hair
as she sat cross legged in front of the fire. He tried closing and opening them once more but
instead found he was only seeing black, and then slowly, two figures came into focus. With a start
he realised he was looking at himself and Hermione, sitting on the armchairs.

His body felt suddenly and extremely relaxed, at complete ease, a wonderful feeling. He looked
from himself to Hermione and a voice sounded loud in his ear – Luna’s voice. *“I wonder if he
realises about Hermione yet. It would be just like Harry not to realise.”* His heart swelled
with affection – for Hermione and himself, a compassion he vaguely recognised must be his
experience of Luna’s feelings for them. This recognition began to bring him back to himself a
little and the image started to fade, but not before he noticed, with a jolt of terror that he was
watching himself rising slowly up out of the chair as if unconscious.

Crashing back violently into his own mind he spun to look down from his elevated height at
Hermione, her face now devoid of sleepiness as she sat straight up and thrust her hand at his arm,
grabbing his forearm with first one arm and then the other. Settling himself back into the chair
they both turned their heads with horrified expressions to look at a beaming Luna.

“I knew something was happening with you two.” She sat up on her knees and clapped her hands
together. “When did you start doing that!’ She directed her last comment at Harry with unbridled
excitement.

Harry caught his breath back and looked sideways at Hermione who shrugged. “Uh, just a few
days.”

“That’s really great Harry.” Luna said with enthusiasm.

He shook his head. “It’s not that great actually – not when I can’t control it.”

But Luna wouldn’t be deterred. “No, it is Harry –it’s really lucky. Only the most blessed get to
fly.” She stared off for a moment and then added. “…Or the most evil.”

Harry looked affronted by her latest revelation but Hermione leaned forward, interested. “What
do you mean?”

“Well, my father says that to fly you must be full of love and luck. There is some sort of
flying you can achieve by dark magic, but that does a lot of damage.” She was staring at Harry with
the same awe he’d seen her use while looking at Thestrals and he felt a bit odd again. “It’s a
fantastic thing to be able to do” she finished, with a note of pride in her voice.

They talked a bit longer, Hermione apparently trying to glean any more information Luna might be
able to provide on the subject but nothing seemed particularly significant. Luna left after a
while, her excitement still plain to see but she’d given her assurances she wouldn’t tell anyone.
As she stepped through the portrait Hermione turned to look at Harry.

“Well, at least we’ve got someone else to help us now.”

He nodded and they moved back over to the chairs. “That’s not the only thing that happened there
though” he said.

She tilted her head and little. “What do you mean?”

He told her about his trip into Luna’s mind, though, he wasn’t sure why, but he decided to leave
out exactly what he’d heard her say. Thinking about it again, he went over Luna’s words in his
head. *It would be just like Harry not to realise.* Not to realise what? His exhausted mind
couldn’t begin to grasp the pieces floating around and he distractedly tuned back in to
Hermione.

“…if you were feeling what she was feeling then that’s Legilimency alright.” She frowned,
frustrated. “Maybe I should go down to the library and get some books on it…”

Harry shook his head. “It’s too late Hermione, you’ll be up all night. You need to get some
sleep for tomorrow.”

Tomorrow. The word hung in the air between them as they looked at each other.

“What are we going to do tomorrow Harry?”

He didn’t need to read her mind to know that she was talking about Ron and Ginny. The thought of
them arriving tomorrow had been prodding at him all night too. He saw her working herself up to say
something and shook his head before she could speak.

“No, I don’t want to tell them, not yet.” Even as he said it, he wasn’t exactly sure why.

She looked down at her feet. “We’re going to have to tell them at some point.”

“I know.”

They stood in silence for a moment then Hermione gently touched his hand. “Will you be alright?”
She motioned to the girls dorm and he nodded. She turned to go and get ready for bed and he fought
to suppress the thrill that flowed through him for a moment. Sitting himself back in the chair he
closed his eyes and rested his head.

She wasn’t gone long and then they were climbing the stairs, being especially quiet tonight,
aware of Seamus’ presence now. Neville’s rhythmic snores rang out through the dark room but Seamus
had no such affliction and Hermione’s body was tense under the cloak as they tried to keep as quiet
as possible.

Settling in to bed in the dark, Harry felt an almost painful sense of relief as he drew his arms
around her, not even able to deny to himself that he had been craving the comfort of her closeness.
Lying on her side facing away from him, he reached to hold both of her hands as she settled her
back against his chest. He breathed in the smell of her hair and she ran her fingers along his arms
encircling her, finding and tracing the scar on his hand once again.

They woke the next morning in the same position, lying awake for some time before getting
up.

After a breakfast in the common room they made their way with Neville to Ravenclaw Tower to pick
up Luna. Still two floors down from the corridor, Harry recognised a section that he’d done repair
work on with Hermione, fixing torches that McGonagall had blasted off the wall in her encounter
with Snape.

Suddenly he stopped dead in his tracks. Turning to his right he saw a classroom and remembered
fixing a smashed window…

“Hermione…”

She turned and looked at him, frowning at the frozen expression on his face. “What is it?”

“Snape. That night with McGonagall. How could I have forgotten?”

“Forgotten what?” Hermione asked, puzzled.

“He flew. He ran, jumped out that window and he flew.” His insides started to turn hot and an
intense anger began to build. “And he told us he didn’t know anything about it.” Hermione took a
step toward him but he’d already turned to make his way to the Headmasters office.

Leaving Neville they ran down the corridors, reaching the stone gargoyle in record time. The
newly repaired gargoyle stood erect in front of the door and Harry hurled several passwords at it-
with no result. Hermione stood in thought as Harry paced around in agitation then went up to the
statue and spoke clearly.

“Shortbread”

Immediately the gargoyle sprang to life and leapt aside, Hermione grabbing a stunned Harry’s
hand and dragging him through the split wall to the stairs. “McGonagall’s favourite biscuit” she
said to his unanswered question. Reaching the polished oak door Harry pushed it and stepped in.

Snape was half in his portrait, his lank black hair hanging forward but not far enough to cover
his hooked nose.

“Snape!!” Harry barked at the frame, causing several of the other portraits to jump and turn at
the disturbance.

Snape turned and stepped fully into the frame, regarding Harry with his black eyes but remaining
silent.

“You lied to me” seethed Harry. “You know all about flying – I saw you do it! On the night of
the battle- I saw you” he said accusingly.

Snape tilted his head back a little haughtily and folded his arms. “I didn’t say I hadn’t done
it. I stand by the fact that Professor Dumbledore would explain it best.”

Harry fumed at him, the familiar loathing from his years at Hogwarts returning in a flash. “I
need help. I need some answers. Where the hell is he?” he shouted.

Snape didn’t move. “He is helping the Ministry. I dare say that is more important than one
student who is not in any danger. Believe it or not Potter there are things going on that do not
involve you.”

Harry’s face fell and Hermione’s arm on his was the only thing restraining his desire to rip the
picture off the wall. Hermione spoke up beside him.

“Professor…we….”

“And I have other matters to attend to as well. Dumbledore will call for you when he is
available.” With a whirl of his cloaks he spun and strode out of the picture.

Hermione yanked Harry to look at her. “Well that was great Harry – we could have asked him about
Legilimency, about everything – I didn’t know you were going to just blow up at him!” He looked
down at her flushed face and felt remorse creeping through the anger, he’d let his temper get the
better of him. Lifting his hands to his face before resting them on top of his head he turned to
the window and stared out at the distant mountains.

“I’m sorry” he said as he leaned against the sill. She came up behind him, placing her hands on
his shoulders.

“Come on.” They left to the muttering of some of the portraits, obviously disapproving of
Harry’s outburst. Without conferring they both headed to Gryffindor common room, knowing they
needed some time out. As they stepped through the portrait hole Harry squeezed Hermione’s hand in
another silent apology.

“So, there you are.”

They both looked up to see Ron, standing next to the chair in which Ginny was sitting, regarding
them quietly.

~*~



6. Everything You Wanted
------------------------

Chapter Six

Everything you Wanted

Harry and Hermione dropped hands immediately.

“When did you get here?”

Ginny faced them with an almost defiant expression but her eyes were achingly sad and suddenly
Harry felt like the biggest prat ever. But she was the one to reply to Harry’s question while Ron
stood with his arms folded watching him and Hermione closely.

“About an hour ago. We flooed in to McGonagall’s old office.”

The silence was deafening as Harry glanced across at Ron, whose face was almost neutral aside
from his ears that were a flaming red. Hermione stood off to one side holding her own hands in a
timid posture that was so unlike her that Harry felt all of a sudden shaken.

Ron rounded on him. “What the hell is happening with you and Hermione?”

Harry stared at Ron, his face flushed as he fought for words. “What… where’s that coming
from?”

The portrait opened behind them and Seamus and Dean came through laughing. Spying Ron and Ginny
they came forward and welcomed them, Dean paying particular attention to Ginny and hugging her, and
Harry noticed that she paid him the attention back, with a sidelong glance at Harry. He didn’t have
a chance to analyse that feeling before Dean stepped back and shook Harry’s hand, though he barely
heard him congratulating him on his effort at the battle, his ears still ringing from Ron’s
accusation. Dean for his part seemed to notice the tension and eventually steered Seamus away from
the four of them, over to the fire.

Hermione looked at Harry, her eyes silently pleading. Staring back at her, he felt a strange
sense of loss – vaguely he recognized it was that their shared secret would no longer be just
between them. Luna knowing had been a different thing; Ron and Ginny knowing would mean that
everything would change, and his mind flew to the last time and every time they had lain next to
each other. He closed his eyes to try and force the images out of his mind but his right hand moved
absently to touch the scar on his left.

“We’ve got things to tell you… but not here.” He gestured to Seamus and Dean. “Let’s go down to
breakfast.”

Ron regarded him suspiciously but followed, along with an anxious looking Ginny as Harry stepped
through the portrait, Hermione coming through last.

Their footsteps on the stone floors were the only sound as Harry tried to form the right words
in his head. He knew it was up to him to explain it, Hermione had spoken for him enough lately. He
took a deep breath.

“The night of the battle…” he paused for a moment, remembering what that night had been like for
Ron and Ginny, and feeling even worse. “The night of the battle, I found out I had a new problem.”
He stopped in the corridor and turned to face them all. “Believe it or not, we think I… can fly or
something.” He said the last words in a rush, feeling embarrassed.

Ron’s frown disappeared immediately. “You… what?”

“Well, levitate anyway. Hermione thinks it’s some sort of transfer from Voldemort, but we’ve
been waiting to speak to Dumbledore to find out – if he ever comes back to his portrait” he said
with a trace of bitterness. He looked at Hermione and she nodded her encouragement. “We’ve just
been trying to keep in under control, and it turns out I can stay on the ground if I have skin
contact.” Ron and Ginny continued to gape at them and he wished they’d say something. Leaning back
against the wall he waited.

“Why… why didn’t you tell us?” Ginny asked.

Harry shrugged and looked at the ground. “Well I figured you had enough going on.”

Ron paced around a bit then stopped. “Is it just the flying? Or is there more?”

Harry shot a look at Hermione. “No, just the flying.”

She finally spoke. “I found him on the roof of the common room – it’s been quite scary really.”
Ron turned to look at her and then rounded on Ginny.

“I told you.” He glared at her and Ginny looked a little sheepish but stood her ground.

“I just thought – I’m sorry.” She turned to Hermione. “I thought something was going on with you
and Harry. Not that I…” She cut herself off and Harry realised she was trying to be tactful, about
the status of his relationship with her. He watched her as she looked at him shyly then looked away
and he felt terrible; she didn’t deserve to be going through this just after losing Fred. But what
exactly did he want to happen between them now? The question hung unanswered in his head as Ron
spoke up.

“Well, so do you need this skin contact all the time?” Harry shook his head and Ron turned to
gesture to Ginny. “Because that’s great – now that we know, we can help you too.” Harry smiled
gratefully, trying to ignore that the smile felt somehow insincere.

“Luna knows as well” offered Hermione, watching Harry closely and he looked away from her
scrutiny.

“So what about when you sleep at night?” Ginny’s question took him completely off guard. More
surprising was the ease at which the lie came to his lips.

“I’m alright when I sleep – it doesn’t happen.” He looked steadfastly at Ginny, avoiding
Hermione’s eyes altogether, though he could feel she was avoiding looking at him also. They all
stood in the corridor, each lost in their own thoughts. Finally Ron broke the silence.

“Come on” he said. “I’m starving.”

Harry laughed at his friend and his predictable priorities as they all started off down the
hallway. They spoke about Harry’s dilemma all the way to the Great Hall, devising that he would
seek out any one of them if he felt out of control. He nodded, glancing over at Hermione, noticing
how quiet she’d been. Trying to shake an odd feeling of foreboding he attempted to be enthusiastic
when Ginny took his hand as they entered the Hall.

Breakfast was very different than it had been for the last few days, the four house tables in
place and each one almost half full aside from Slytherin that only had half a dozen. Harry kept his
head down as he was cheered on arrival, Ginny pressing in close to him as they walked to the
Gryffindor table.

The four of them decided to make the most of the sun and after breakfast, walked down to spend
the morning by the lake. A few times he felt the flying sensation beginning to overcome him but
managed to control it himself without anyone’s help, though he wasn’t sure why he was trying to be
so independent now that he had more of his close friends around to help him.

He stole a glance at Hermione as she sat talking with Ron. They seemed at ease with each other,
Ron occasionally putting his arm around her shoulders or touching her hand – but Harry could sense
a strange sort of sadness emanating from her. She looked up at Ron, smiling at something he said,
though Harry noticed the smile didn’t reach her eyes.

As for himself, he was intensely unnerved by the hollow sensation in the pit of his stomach. The
physical changes he’d undergone were definitely troubling him, but it worried him much more that it
seemed as if his whole emotional outlook had changed along with it. *This is everything you
wanted* he said to himself, looking around at the lake and all the other students lying on the
grass. He was back, at Hogwarts, with no foreseeable danger in sight, Ginny at his side and his two
best friends healthy and happy and yet, something was nagging at him.

He was beginning to worry that being unable to stop his thoughts constantly turning to Hermione,
wasn’t just a passing phase.

His own feelings hadn’t scared him this much since the night he’d seen through Nagini’s eyes to
attack Arthur Weasley. It was like a slow buzz building in the back of his brain, threatening to
overwhelm him and it was different to anything he’d felt for a girl before.

With Cho, he’d felt kind of giddy in her presence, the flutters in his stomach an uncomfortable
but gentle sensation. With Ginny, he’d felt the same but much more, an overwhelming wave of
protection and possession that would overcome him suddenly, a fierce desire.

Now his feelings for Hermione were awakening like a cool stream trickling in to him, filling him
up with all he knew about her. It was the strangest feeling, alien yet familiar at the same time,
and frighteningly strong. He knew he’d always had strong feelings for her, and that the line of
friendship had sometimes seem blurred for him at least, but he’d always been able to keep it in
check. Now it was like he was relearning every thought and feeling he’d ever had about her but from
a new and clear perspective, making him question himself like never before. Worst of all, it seemed
that in lying so close to her as he had for the last four nights, it was as if his arms had learnt
the feel of her and didn’t ever want to be without it again.

But all of these new emotions were being pushed steadily down by the weight of his loyalty to
the Weasleys, in particular Ron. Looking at his friend, he could see the pride Ron felt from his
new relationship with Hermione and the confidence it gave him. Who was he to take that away? Even
kept to himself, his new thoughts of Hermione would eventually get in the way of staying loyal to
his friend or the only family he’d ever known. Besides, he couldn’t even consider the risk that
he’d cause irreversible damage to his friendship with Hermione if he made his feelings known to
her. He knew that one thing remained the same – that he only wanted her to be happy.

Ginny was watching him, questions in her eyes and he knew he looked a million miles away. He
smiled at her and took her hand, making a new resolve right then to keep close to Ginny and give
Ron and Hermione some space.

The school rapidly filled as the day progressed, an overwhelming feeling of celebration flooding
through its halls. Even Peeves was in an uncharacteristically generous mood – throwing confetti
through the halls instead of the usual stink bombs, though he did add some ink to it that landed on
a couple of unlucky first years and caused them to glow bright pink for the rest of the day. Harry
and Ron were playing their second game of wizard chess in the common room when the girls announced
they were going to get ready for the dance, starting in a few hours. Ron snorted that it always
took girls so long to just step into a dress at which Ginny swatted him over the head.

“You’ll be alright Harry?” Hermione asked him directly, the first time they’d spoken since the
morning.

“Uh yeah, I’m fine, thanks” He caught Ginny’s sideways glance at Hermione but smiled at her
gratefully. “I’ll be okay.”

Hermione nodded and they retreated up to the girls’ dormitory. An hour later, him and Ron
decided they better get ready too and went to shower and change. Alone in the bathroom Harry
experimented with hovering again, rising to a metre off the ground before bringing himself down. A
knock on the door gave him a fright and he landed roughly.

“Come on mate – we’re heading down soon” Ron called. Stepping into their bedroom, Ron looked at
him and held his arms out to show his new black dress robes with gold trim. “George” he said
proudly. “Said Fred would turn in his grave if I showed up in the grandma bathrobe I had for the
Yule Ball”. Harry laughed and patted his friend on the shoulder.

Making their way down stairs they found the girls waiting for them. Hermione caught his eye and
they stared at each other for a moment, the same strange thrill flowing through him as the night
before as he took in her hair, swept up off her neck. He looked hastily to Ginny who was beaming up
at him, beautiful in a dark green halter neck dress, her red hair out and flowing. As they got to
the bottom of the stairs she approached them, holding her hands out to him and he froze. She wore a
matching wrap around her shoulders and long elbow length formal gloves.

Seeing his face as he looked at her hands she frowned then gave a soft ‘oh’ sound of
comprehension.

“Oh no, Harry…skin contact. I’m so sorry, I didn’t think.” She looked down at her gloves and
started to pull at the fingers. “I’ll take them off.”

He grabbed her hands to stop her and shook his head. “No don’t do that. I’ll be fine, really.”
He smiled tightly. “You look really nice.”

He bent to kiss her on the cheek, noticing out of the corner of his eye Ron doing the same thing
to Hermione. A flicker of irritation passed through him. He was disappointed, however irrationally,
at Ginny’s thoughtlessness, though he talked himself out of it, remembering all she’d been through
in the last week. He took her gloved hand and turned to the others. Hermione was watching him and
he suddenly wanted to tell her how beautiful she looked but held his tongue. “Shall we go?”

~*~



7. Something About You
----------------------

Disclaimer; I didn’t write/don’t own the song featured in this chapter either – it’s You and Me
by Lifehouse. (there’s some good H/Hr vids on youtube that feature this song.

Chapter 7

Something About You

The Great Hall had really outdone itself tonight – a wide and clear starry sky twinkled above
with hundreds of floating silver candles moving around just above everyone’s heads. Long swathes of
silver fabric were fastened to the walls, and rippled gently upwards seeming to stretch up
endlessly as they reached out into the middle of the room. Fountains spaced down the middle of the
hall shot glitter into the air that dissolved as it hit the ground and music played in the
background, though band equipment was set up on the raised platform where the staff table usually
was.

They mingled in with the crowd, staying close together as they walked to the food tables, Ron
loading up a plate from the impressive spread set between glowing ice sculptures. Harry relaxed a
little as he recognized familiar faces, Ernie McMillan in what looked like a new set of yellow and
black dress robes, Hannah Abbott and some familiar Hufflepuffs sipping Butterbeers and laughing.
The Patil twins were looking gorgeous in pink and greeted them all with warm hugs; Ginny wasted
little time in steering them away to another table. Luna glided up to them in her lilac dress but
with an added headdress of white and purple feathers that had Ron raising his eyebrows but Harry
thought it actually suited her.

The four of them were definitely drawing more than the average amount of attention, which made
Harry uncomfortable. But Ron seemed to be reveling in it and Ginny taking it in her stride.
Hermione was a different story.

She was uncharacteristically quiet, but it seemed only Harry noticed, Ron was busy talking or
eating or joking around with Seamus and Dean.

She smiled at something they said and then turned and walked away, her smile vanishing in an
instant. Her eyes looked haunted and they stirred something in him that crumbled his resolve to
stay away. Stepping away from Ginny as she spoke with Padma and Luna he mumbled something about
getting a drink and weaved through the crowd towards a tall ice sculpture of a swan, spying the
distinctive blue of Hermione’s dress glinting through the transparent centerpiece.

Ducking around to where she was standing he approached her as she stood facing away from him,
appearing to be watching the room from her vantage point. “Hey.”

She visibly jumped and twisted around, taken off guard.

“Hi” she said, with a brief attempt at a smile. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah” he replied, watching her closely. “Are you?”

“What do you mean?” She looked surprised and slightly put out.

“Are you mad at me?”

Her expression changed instantly from annoyance to almost amusement. “No… Harry, why would I be
mad at you?”

He shrugged. “Just …what I told Ron and Ginny.” He shifted uncomfortably. “Or rather… what I
didn’t tell them.”

She blushed profusely and he wanted to smile at how attractive it was but kept still while he
waited.

“No… I think you did the right thing.” She stared at her clasped hands and he had the odd
sensation that they were speaking a multitude of words with every breath, and every silence. She
caught his gaze and held it. “I just don’t know what we’re going to do now.”

His eyes traveled unconsciously to her mouth and a wave of something uncontrollable hit him. He
ran his hands through his hair.

“I don’t know either.” She looked worried and he reached out to lay a hand on her bare shoulder.
“Don’t worry. We’ll work something out.”

She nodded and stepped a little closer to him, looking up into his face. They stood like that
for a moment before noticing the music had stopped and all heads were turning to the front of the
room. Harry glanced past the sculpture to see Ginny craning her neck looking for him. He squeezed
Hermione’s shoulder. “Come on, we better go”

Professor McGonagall had stepped up in front of the band equipment, along with most of the
teachers, to say a short speech, welcoming students back and giving special mention to those who
had been there helping to rebuild Hogwarts. She gave a few practical notices, explaining that any
who were staying tonight had to make sure they had handed in their signed permission slips or
gained approval from their heads of House. The next day would be an orientation day of sorts, each
house being informed of any changes to their classes or teachers. Harry wondered vaguely who would
take over Defence of the Dark Arts.

“But before we begin a celebration of a new beginning to not only our school, but our wider
world, it is fitting that we acknowledge the many – far too many – students, teachers, and friends
of the school who gave their lives in what will always be known as the Battle of Hogwarts. Let
their sacrifice remind you of your responsibility to use the skills you learn at this school in a
wise and just fashion.” She held up her wand and the hundreds of candles dimmed and ceased moving
as she instigated a moments silence before the dance began.

The hush that descended over the Hall unnerved Harry. He looked to Ron who was staring up at the
ceiling, focusing steadily on the stars in the rafters. Ginny, standing next to him dropped her
head and he placed an arm around her shoulder. Then his gaze fell to Hermione in the silence and he
felt an intense sadness at the look on her face, she was staring into the distance, her face a mask
of devastation. He frowned at the sight of her pain as she glanced up at him.

And then everything went black.

He opened his eyes to the same milky haze that had clouded his vision when he’d entered Luna’s
mind. Slowly a picture sharpened in front of him; hazy shadows of a group of people coming into
focus. The tallest shadow was the first to make sense; he slowly recognized the bushy outline of
Hagrid’s hair and beard above the heads of all the others he was standing beside. With a start he
identified the chalk white face of the figure standing just in front of Hagrid – Voldemort. It was
then that he noticed that Hagrid was weeping over a body in his arms – him, Harry.

Blinking furiously Harry tried to clear the vision from his mind but it was no use. He wasn’t
yet sure whose thoughts he’d entered but he knew for sure it was a memory of the night of the
battle and Harry could see himself, playing dead, surrounded by Deatheaters.

From his view of the scene he could tell he was looking out from the steps of Hogwarts. To his
left and right he noted that Ginny and Ron were on either side of him –with a jolt he finally
realised that he was in Hermione’s position. He knew now he was in Hermione’s head, and her memory
with all its thoughts and feelings. Staring down at his own lifeless body in Hagrid’s arms he
heard, or rather felt, a horrible scream, an upsetting sound that poured so much emotion into one
word.

“NO!”

The grief hit him with an almost physical force and he actually fought to keep his footing.
Overwhelmed with a wave of anguish so intense he knew he nearly cried out, but he just managed to
grasp a shred of control. The scream had been hers, said out loud, but next he heard her thoughts,
just as clearly.

*“Not Harry… He can’t be dead. Please Harry don’t be dead…”*

The words rang in his ears, laced with heartbreaking agony.

*“Don’t be dead. I can’t live without you. I can’t live without you…”*

And it was all clear to him in a split second. He felt her heart make a huge leap of realisation
in that very moment. A picture show of memories assaulted him as they flew through her brain, all
containing him, with Hermione, and her feelings in every moment came with it.

Flickers of his face as he woke up, surrounded by his Quidditch team after falling from his
broom away from the Dementors, and her crushing relief that he was alive… Walking for hours around
the lake with him, trying to work out the Triwizard task, looking up at him, feeling her heart pull
with a glimmer of longing… Kissing him goodbye at Kings Cross and the confusion it caused her
before she turned and walked away…Hearing his own voice, *‘But I don’t think you’re ugly’* and
feeling the rush of happiness running through her body… Taking his hand as they stood together at
his parents gravestones, her love for him so palpable, shining from within.

She loved him.

It was written clearly inside of her, she loved him to the very core of her being. Mingled in
with feelings of doubt, guilt, and insecurity; conflicted feelings of duty and desire but through
all of it, a love for him so complete he was awestruck by it.

A buzzing in his teeth signaled his journey back to consciousness and his vision slowly focused
on his own shoes on the floor of the Hall.

Breath seemed to crash back into his lungs as he came back to himself and found he was bent over
leaning heavily on his own knees though still standing. His head swirled with confused images and
sounds, and he sensed Ginny leaning over him to his right, her hand on his back, whispering in his
ear words he couldn’t hear. Hands grasped him on both sides and he was slowly stood up again,
looking down to his left it was Luna’s eyes he saw.

“Harry.” She was looking at him quite calmly and he focused on her, trying to calm his
breathing. Becoming aware of faces turning towards him he looked around to Ginny as she tugged on
his arm, a desperate look in her eyes.

“Harry… come on, Harry?” He looked down at her confused. He noticed everyone was looking at him
then, from the students to the teachers on the stage - in particular, Professor Slughorn who was
saying something and pointing directly at him.

He squinted in an effort to pick up his words.

“…so how about it Harry? Celebrate your victory over the Dark Lord and how proud of you we all
are. Lead us all in the first dance with your lucky choice of partner dear boy!” Slughorn beamed at
him through his walrus moustache, Professor McGonagall’s disapproving gaze having no effect on the
portly man’s enthusiasm.

Before he had a chance to answer, the crowd clapped and cheered, and began to shift, moving away
from the dance floor and clearing a path in front of him and Ginny. He felt fixed to the spot, and
was almost surprised when Ginny was able to move him forward as she led him to the edge of the
dance floor.

Time seemed to slow as he stepped on to the slightly raised dais and turned to face Ginny, his
eyes scanning the room in a circle as he did. Faces floated by, all looking at him, smiling,
approving, but he couldn’t make out their features clearly. His hearing seemed to be fading again
and looking down in to Ginny’s face he noticed her lips moving but couldn’t hear what she was
saying.

Then the familiar whirl in his stomach began and his every sense leapt to attention.
*“No!”* his mind screamed *“ Not here…”* He shut his eyes tight and fought the sensation,
focusing all his attention to his feet, desperate to stay grounded.

“Not here…” he said aloud, fighting harder now but feeling his feet tingle as they slowly rose.
He opened his eyes in shock and grabbed for Ginny’s shoulders pressing his palms against her skin.
A wave of nausea overtook him as he realised he was still rising and he swayed into her, his vision
blurring even more.

He felt a movement from Ginny and some muffled voices, and then he was swaying perilously by
himself for a moment, hovering a few millimetres off the floor before being steadied by two hands
on his wrists. Then his toes found the floor again, and slowly, very slowly his heels followed
suit. He opened his eyes to see what was happening but his vision glowed brightly red and he
squeezed them quickly shut again in fear. And then a voice rang softly in his head.

*“It’s okay Harry. I’m here. I’ve got you.”*

He tilted his head to listen, it was Hermione’s voice.

*“It’s okay. Open your eyes.”*

Lowering his chin he tentatively opened his eyes. His sight was still tinged with red but he
made out a very distinct blue, just in front of his chest. He allowed his eyes to travel slowly
upward, to see Hermione standing in front of him, filling his vision.

*“Harry.”* She spoke again and he saw her lips didn’t move – realising suddenly that she
was speaking to him through her thoughts. *“Follow me.”*

He stared at her in confusion but let her take his hands, her small hands feeling warm in his
palms. Their warmth spread through him, calming him, bringing back his sight and his hearing. The
crowd was silent and still, but all faces were still on him. She squeezed his hands reassuringly as
she stepped to the side and took him with her. As they moved he glimpsed several people just behind
Hermione, Luna watching them serenely with a devastated looking Ginny at her side.

Vaguely he recognised music filtering in to his conscience and with a leap of dread he realised
they were expected to dance. *“Don’t worry, just follow me.”* Hermione sent him the thought
and he found it to be true- his arm found her waist and their feet moved together as if they had
their own understanding, following each other slowly around the dance floor. Still lightheaded he
leaned on her a little heavily; trying to steady himself, he focused on the music and the lyrics
filtering through.

*It’s you and me*

*And all of the people*

*With nothing to do*

*Nothing to prove*

He looked down into Hermione’s eyes and she stared steadily back. Aware of everyone watching
them he lowered his gaze to her collarbone, trying to quell the emotion swelling up inside of him.
The memories and feelings that he’d just experienced on his trip into her mind came back to him,
and the feel of them was still so fresh he didn’t trust himself to look at her again. He bent his
head next to hers a little more to shield his face, and closed his eyes as he caught the scent of
perfume on her neck.

She moved them gracefully around the floor and he tried to gather himself, his excursion into
her thoughts had taken too much out of him and he felt weak and vulnerable. Guilt at invading her
private thoughts started to filter through, he felt he could assume that she didn’t know he’d done
it. But stronger was the memory of the love he’d felt from her, and the joy with which he had
reacted to it. He pulled her closer.

*And I don’t know why*

*I can’t keep my eyes off of you*

She turned her face towards him a little, trying to see his expression, trying to read him he
realised. Then he couldn’t stop his eyes from finding hers again, and though he knew the whole
school was watching, though he knew Ron, and Ginny, were right there, he held her stare.

*There’s something about you now*

*That I can’t quite figure out*

His vision narrowed till all he could see was her. Of its own accord the hand that wasn’t around
her waist came up to touch her face, his fingertips lightly grazing her jaw. She stared up at him
in astonishment, her eyes searching his as his hand continued to gently brush her cheek, his thumb
lingering near her mouth.

*Everything she does is beautiful*

*Everything she does is right*

He let his eyes fall on her lips, so very close now as his head dipped lower to her. Their faces
were only inches apart and he could feel her breath coming quickly, her chest rising and falling
against him - making him realise how close he was holding her. He wondered absently if she could
feel his heart beating, the drumming against his chest was so fast now. He looked back into her
eyes again as his hand moved to cup her face, and he knew he couldn’t stop himself from kissing her
any longer.

But Luna’s white hair spun in the corner of his vision and with a jerk he became aware of the
room again. Dragging his eyes up he saw Luna had pulled Neville on to the dance floor, starting the
rest of the school off as couple after couple stepped on to the floor. Venturing a look further
around, he saw Ginny standing where he’d left her, staring motionless at them, and just over her
head a tall flash of red hair stalked away through the crowd.

He spun back to look down again at Hermione, realising his hand was still cupping her jaw. She
closed her eyes for a moment and nodded as they were slowly surrounded by dancers. Her expression
was unreadable as his hand slowly dropped from her face to her shoulder, and then she motioned to
the door with her head. He swallowed hard and then nodded, and led her by hand off the dance
floor.

Pressing through the crowd Harry avoided looking at anyone though faces were following them and
he caught whispers as they hurried past.

“…Ginny Weasley, I thought they were together…”

“…I always knew something was going on there…”

“…Did you see Ron? Stormed out…”

He tried to block out the voices as he pushed his way through, his hand holding tight to
Hermione’s as she followed, pressed closely to his back. Arriving at the door his way was suddenly
blocked by Seamus and Dean.

Seamus’ face broke into a wild grin.

“Harry! That was… whoa.” He clapped Harry on the shoulder and then looked around him to
Hermione, beaming at her too. “I always wanted you guys to…”

“Did you see where Ron went?” Harry interrupted.

Seamus continued to grin dumbly and Dean spoke up.

“I don’t know Harry. He didn’t look happy.”

Harry nodded and stepped past them, arriving in the Entrance Hall at the same time as Luna,
followed by Ginny. He looked into Ginny’s bewildered eyes and his instinct to find Ron faltered –
what was he going to say? To either of them? He still held Hermione’s hand and he knew now that he
wasn’t letting it go.

“The Common Room.” He wasn’t sure of anything at the moment, just that they had to get out, had
to get away from this scene and that was the first place he thought of. The four of them climbed
the stairs not speaking with Luna leading the way.

~*~



8. Born to Love
---------------

Chapter Eight

Born to Love

Ginny swiped angrily at her tears.

Watching her whirl around to confront him, Hermione and Luna as they followed her into the
Gryffindor common room; Harry knew she wanted to explode and he couldn’t blame her.

How could he explain what had just gone on? He wasn’t a hundred percent sure himself, his body
still tingling with the experience of entering Hermione’s mind so completely – and then the
intimacy of the dance afterward. He stood to face a glaring Ginny, ready for her to storm at him
and waited. But when she spoke, it was in a voice that was quiet and measured, making Harry even
more aware of the emotions held in check.

“Could someone please explain to me” she paused briefly to look at them both in turn, “what just
happened?”

She leveled a stare at him and he met it, determined to be honest with her.

“I don’t know Ginny. I… I blacked out.” He raised his hand as she started to object. “…Though I
was still aware, yes. But I kind of blacked out and when I came to on the dance floor, I didn’t
know what was happening – I just… started to lift up again and then…” He paused, looking at all of
them one by one. “Well… then I don’t know what happened but …it stopped.”

Now Ginny was glaring at Hermione. “I know what happened. She came along and grabbed you.”

He looked at Hermione in surprise.

“You did?”

She nodded, glancing at Ginny. “I could see it was happening again and I… I thought you wouldn’t
want the whole school to see.”

Ginny scoffed. “Oh yeah but they got a show anyway didn’t they?”

Harry frowned at her. “What does that mean?”

“You two. Fawning all over each other. You practically kissed!! I told Ron I was right –
something is going on.” She was visibly shaking as she gathered steam. “And I always asked you
Hermione, always said to you were you sure that you didn’t feel anything for him, and that I was
sure he felt something for you.”

Harry looked at Hermione, words dying on both of their lips. His heart had given a little leap
at Ginny’s words, and he was glad that Luna chose that moment to speak.

“I think you’ll find that this skin contact thing doesn’t work with everyone. I think it only
works with you, Hermione.”

Hermione turned to Luna in surprise. “No, no I don’t think…”

“Here.” Ginny strode towards them ripping off her gloves. “Let’s see shall we. Harry – can you
put it to the test?”

He stared at her, then Hermione, then Luna. “I don’t think its necessary…”

“It is necessary.” Ginny held her hands out to him with a steely determination in her eyes.

Harry shook his head but stood still and closed his eyes. Immediately he rose, slowly and
carefully off the floor. Hermione drew a sharp breath and instinctively reached for him but Ginny
stood in front of Harry to block her way and spoke in a business like tone.

“Okay Harry. Now, take my hands.”

He did as she asked, but with no result. She waited, but he knew it was pointless and as soon as
Ginny motioned to Hermione to step towards him he began to feel the relaxing sensation as they
joined hands and he settled gently back on the ground. Luna beamed in the background and his eyes
fell to Hermione’s. She bit her lip and looked away.

Ginny’s eyes had grown wide and she stepped back shakily. “Well. That’s that then.” He watched
her face fall and tried to think of anything to say – anything to stop her unleashing her
anger.

But what happened was worse. Brave, gutsy, funny Ginny, put her face in her hands and
sobbed.

He looked down at Hermione who looked back at him hopelessly – her own eyes shining with tears.
Luna stood off in the background watching the scene now with a rare somber look on her face,
bringing the seriousness of the situation home for Harry.

He squeezed Hermione’s hand once and let it go then walked to Ginny and held her by the
shoulders.

She looked up at him finally and he led her to sit on a couch. Hermione and Luna stayed where
they were, respecting their privacy.

“Harry.” Ginny’s voice was a croaky whisper and his heart broke with the sorrow in it. “What’s
happened? I thought you were… I was waiting for you.”

He held her hands but sat very still. He knew nothing he could say would make her feel better
and he let her continue.

“I didn’t want to expect too much. But I thought you had been missing me too. I thought you were
coming back to me” She said the last as if speaking to herself.

He ran his hands through his hair. “I was Ginny. Please believe me, I really was thinking of you
the whole time. It’s just since the Battle. It changed me, in so many ways – some I don’t
understand myself yet.” He brushed her hair off her face. “Please believe me that I never meant to
hurt you, or lie to you.”

She looked up at him, her eyes spilling tears. “I know Harry. If nothing else, I’ve always
gotten honesty from you.”

“I’m really am sorry Gin.”

She nodded and looked down at her hands. “So am I.”

They sat in shared silence for a moment, until Neville came bursting through the portrait.

“Harry!” Seeing him on the couch he ran over. “Sir Cadogan.” He stopped for breath, leaning on
the armrest.

“Sir Cadogan?” Harry brought to mind the eccentric knight, charging through Hogwart’s portraits.
“What about him?”

Neville stood up again. “He had a message for you. He said Dumbledore’s back.”

Harry’s eyes widened and flew directly to Hermione who had reacted the same way.

“I have to go.” He stood up and walked to the portrait hole. Hermione followed him and just
before they stepped through he turned back to the others. “You guys should go back to the dance.
Really.” He looked at Ginny as she stood up slowly from the couch and smiled weakly at them before
she replied.

“Yeah. You go, hurry.”

He nodded and returned the smile then they took off through the portrait.

He took Hermione’s hand and set off down the corridor at a fast pace, with her jogging to keep
up. They arrived at the gargoyle and he turned and took both her hands in his, looking down at
their fingers entwined.

“Hermione, I…”

He hesitated and she smiled softly at him; reaching up she touched her hand to his jaw. “Let’s
just go and catch Dumbledore, Harry. This is what you’ve been waiting for”

He studied her face for a moment then nodded and drew his eyes from her reluctantly to speak the
password.

In front of the oak door they both took a deep breath and exchanged a brief glance before
entering.

Professor Dumbledore sat in his portrait facing Snape, who stopped talking as soon as they
entered and regarded them coolly. Dumbledore followed Snape’s gaze and broke into a wide smile.

“Harry, Hermione!” he said warmly. “It’s so good to see you.”

Harry frowned and stepped forward. “Professor… it’s good to see you too.” He finished the
sentence with ‘finally’ in his head but managed to resist saying it aloud.

“Professor Snape was just filling me in on your new… affliction.” The fact that he said it with
a smile still on his face didn’t ease Harry’s mounting irritation and he couldn’t help but snap his
reply.

“Yeah well, I wish someone would fill me in too.” Snape’s eyes narrowed but Dumbledore
maintained his cheerful demeanor.

“Of course you do Harry.” He didn’t seem in a hurry though, and turned to regard Hermione with a
smile over his glasses. “I hear you’ve been very helpful about the situation – as always Miss
Granger.”

Hermione smiled modestly. “No, we’ve just been… making do.”

“Yes, but nevertheless I’m sure Harry appreciates it immensely. I am, however, going to ask you
to go back and join your fellow students at the dance if you will. I think that it would be best
for me to talk to Harry about this by himself.”

Hermione looked slightly wounded and Harry shook his head emphatically.

“No… Professor – Hermione stays. She’s been with me through all of this, she deserves to
know.”

“Quite” said Dumbledore, still with his infuriatingly calm smile. “And she will, in good time.
However, I must insist, that the conversation is best heard by your ears only, first.”

Harry went to object again but Hermione pulled on his arm. “Harry, it’s okay. I’ll – I’ll wait
downstairs.” She turned to Dumbledore. “Will he be alright though Sir?” She cast a worried eye up
towards the tall ceiling.

Dumbledore smiled and nodded. “Yes my dear – in the confines of this office he will be quite
safe.”

She turned to Harry and he had the distinct impression she desperately wanted to stay but she
seemed to resign herself and drew him into a hug. He held her close and she stepped back to look
him in the eyes. “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

He nodded and kissed her on the cheek, pressing her to him just a little too long. She stepped
away, flushed and turned to give him one last glance at the door before walking out of the
room.

“So, Harry!” Dumbledore sounded excited. Snape was still glaring at him but Harry ignored him.
“Have a seat.”

Harry hesitated but eventually pulled out the chair.

“Firstly – I must apologise. I understand that you’ve wanted to speak with me for a number of
days, and I haven’t been available. The Ministry has been more demanding of my time than ever, but
capturing the Deatheaters still at large is of the utmost importance I’ve been spending most of my
time at various portraits within the Ministry’s offices, offering them insight on their leads.”
Dumbledore regarded him over his half moon spectacles. “I understand you must have been frustrated
Harry.”

Listening to Dumbledore’s frank declaration Harry felt some of his tension leave him, and he
felt suddenly and overwhelming tired.

He sighed. “What’s going on with me Professor?”

“Well Harry, you tell me. Tell me everything, from the last time I saw you.”

Harry took a deep breath and began, telling him everything in detail. He left out nothing, not
even his nights with Hermione, though he omitted his thoughts and feelings on the subject.
Dumbledore wore a smile throughout and when he described entering Hermione’s thoughts at the dance
Dumbledore raised his eyebrows with a soft ‘Oh?’ before sitting back to listen again. When he had
finished, Harry sat uneasily in his seat, anxious for answers. Dumbledore seemed to be mulling over
the information and Harry couldn’t wait any longer.

“Sir, does this mean I’m still a Horcrux?” He felt a huge relief saying his fears out loud, only
to be replaced immediately with dread at the thought of hearing the answer.

Dumbledore shook his head. “No I don’t believe so Harry. I think there’s no doubt the part of
you that was an unintentional Horcrux has died, or you would still clearly detect the presence of
his thoughts. It does appear though that when the curse backfired on Tom for the last time, the
Horcrux part of you dissolved, but an impression of his presence remained… in much the same way as
a camera burns an image onto a negative.”

Harry squinted at him, waiting to hear more.

“Now” said Dumbledore, warming to the subject. “It seems that in retaining this imprint, all of
Tom Riddle’s powers are there inside you. A mere suggestion, but there nonetheless, ready for you
to discover and bring forth.” He watched Harry’s reaction carefully. “And this usually happens when
something monumental brings it about. Something life changing, that becomes the means with which
the power awakens.”

“Let’s look at the Legilimency to begin. The grief associated with the funeral and perhaps your
return to Godric’s Hollow and all its emotion opened the gateway in your mind to allow the
Legilimency to begin. This is nothing to be afraid of Harry.” He regarded him kindly over his
glasses. “But with a great power such as this, comes a greater responsibility to exercise control
and use it wisely, and with discretion. Professor Snape and I can take you through the finer points
of this skill to sharpen your control. You will find there are many subtleties to the art.”

Harry registered Snape’s expression of annoyance but remained still. His most pressing question
was burning inside of him but he was still unwilling to mention it.

“Harry” said Dumbledore, watching him closely. “What is it that’s really troubling you?”

Harry measured his words. “My eyes sir. When they glowed red… what if… what if I’m dangerous?
What if I’ve inherited some of his personality too?”

Dumbledore laughed quietly. “Mere theatrics Harry. Tom’s eyes became red through the damage he
caused to his own soul, but he also deliberately enhanced this for dramatic effect. You likely have
all his talents at your disposal, but you can certainly pick and choose which you decide to take
on.”

Harry felt his chest ease at the revelations.

“Now – the flying!” Dumbledore’s eyes widened in what Harry could only conclude was
excitement.

“It is, obviously, quite a rare and unique power. And there are only two ways to bring it
about.”

He pressed his hands together, tapping the fingertips. “Firstly, there is a dark magic, very
similar to the method for creating a Horcrux. Once you have committed a murder, it is possible to
capture the anguish this causes to the victim and their loved ones, and attach those potent
emotions to a spell that will make you fly. This is temporary, and often a reason why anyone who
would do such a thing commits murder again, to retain the power.”

Harry whipped his head up at a thought. “That’s how Riddle did it.”

Dumbledore held up one long finger. “Well… I had previously though so. But I recently have had
reason to suspect that he may have used the other technique.”

“Which is?” Harry noticed Snape turn and walk out of his picture.

“Love, Harry.”

“Love? Voldemort?” Harry stared, his mouth agape. “But you’ve said yourself he doesn’t
understand love.”

Dumbledore nodded. “Indeed. But perhaps it is I who failed to see the many complex ways in which
we love. For love of family is almost in built, though it may or may not be reinforced, depending
on how close one is to their family, it is there from the start. The love we speak of now is love
of a more mature and evolving nature, romantic love, you might say.”

“It is a curious thing I suppose, and likely why it’s dismissed as legend, but it is quite true
that a wizard must be truly in love to master the ability to fly. You see, being in love for a
wizard is different than for a muggle. It changes our physiology -much like your mother’s love for
you marked your very skin- and therefore, makes one far more powerful. In fact, your mother was a
perfect example.

Harry felt a jolt of recognition hit him – Snape’s memory of his mother taking flight from the
swing. “My mother…flew?”

“I don’t know if she ever ‘flew’ as such, though I did hear of a rather special trick she had of
jumping neatly from one moving stairwell to the other with impressive distance.” He chuckled.

“Then… who? Who did Riddle love?”

“Well, again this is now speculation Harry, but I am almost certain the likely person is
Bellatrix Lestrange.”

Harry immediately had a flashback of the final moments of the Battle; Bellatrix’s gloating smile
freezing on her face as she fell to Molly Weasley’s curse – and Voldemort’s resulting scream
carrying over the noise of the cheering crowd.

“So… he loved her?”

“We’ll never really know” Dumbledore replied with a shrug. “Having seen her around Tom in
earlier years, I feel certain she had quite an all consuming love for him. I feel they would have
married had Tom not had a Muggle father. But yes, it would seem that perhaps they loved each other
– at least as much as either of them was capable of love.”

He smiled then and shook his finger as if remembering a particularly good joke. “But either way,
this is where it gets wonderfully complicated Harry.”

“It seems that the love required to inspire flight in a witch or wizard does not have to be
returned. It can be unrequited – and it could be that even if he didn’t return her love, Tom was
still able to use the intensity of Bellatrix’s love for him in this way. But all that is really
required to master the skill of flight is for the witch or wizard to accept within themselves that
they are, in fact, in love.”

He glanced over at Snape’s empty portrait with a benign smile.

“Severus would have told you this Harry, if the subject wasn’t perhaps so… delicate for
him.”

So, thought Harry, Snape had been reluctant to talk about it because he would have had to
discuss his love for Lily. He felt a surge of guilt, remembering his outburst at Snape’s
portrait.

Then a slow dawning of thought began to settle over him and he looked at Dumbledore, who was
watching him closely as if following the very path his thoughts were taking.

“So, we come to you now Harry.” He smiled kindly, and sat as if waiting for Harry to be ready
for his next words.

“Knowing your capacity for love, and the consequences it has had on your physical being, I did
foresee that you might deal with a situation like this at some stage, even without this apparent
encouragement from your encounter with Voldemort. Now, with both situations colliding, it appears
to be causing some interesting results.”

“Harry, have you had any feelings for someone that sound like what I’m talking about?”

A pair of dark brown eyes flashed into his mind and he looked away. Finally he nodded curtly.
Dumbledore went on.

“This is what you must master then. Whether you’ve admitted it to yourself or not, those
feelings are there. It appears this is a perfect example of how your body sometimes knows things
before your mind…catches up.” He smiled. “Your body has been trying to show you how you feel,
believe it or not. They’re probably the truest of all emotions, the ones recognized by your
physical self.” He placed his hand on his stomach and patted lightly. “It’s what they mean by the
term ‘gut feelings’.”

“I wouldn’t presume to tell you how or whether you should approach this person about how you
feel, but it is not necessary to do that to gain control over your skill. To admit to oneself that
you are in love is the hardest thing of all, and -therefore I suppose- all that is required.”

Harry stared at the floor. He felt poised on the edge of an abyss, wanting to let himself fall
but at the same time, clinging on with all his might to what was safe and sure. He looked up at
Dumbledore again and noticed Snape had returned to his portrait, though was not looking at him.

“But, sir, what if loving this person …might hurt others?”

Dumbledore nodded and his expression turned sympathetic.

“Then that is unfortunate and an obvious dilemma. Only you can know what to do there Harry.”

Harry dropped his head to his hands and sat still for a moment. Finally, Dumbledore broke the
silence, speaking quieter than before.

“I would however suggest to you Harry, that your inherent nobility, though admirable, would be
woefully misguided if it caused you to value others perceived happiness over your own.” He fixed
twinkling blue eyes on him. “Might I even venture to say that you, in particular, are quite
possibly …overdue a certain amount of happiness.”

Slowly, Harry sat back in his chair, looking out the dark window. When he spoke, it was almost
to himself.

“So, it’s the difference between what is right, and what feels right.”

Dumbledore nodded, obviously pleased with Harry’s assessment. “Either way Harry once you
acknowledge it to yourself, being in love is one of the most powerful forms of magic – especially
if returned.”

“In particular, some believe that there is one specific person for everyone. And for a wizard,
finding that person is exceptionally potent. It seems some Muggles experience a similar thing; they
call it a term which I’m particularly fond of.” He smiled softly to himself. “They call it a
soulmate.”

Harry felt something shift inside him and was suddenly overwhelmed by a memory so clear and so
strong that it was almost as if he was viewing it through a Pensieve. It was of Professor
McGonagall speaking at Tonks and Lupins funeral and of her final words.

*“To know nothing should stand in the way of loving the person you were born to love.”*

He felt frozen to the spot as the memory continued in his head, in his mind he was sitting there
again, with Teddy in one arm and…

Hermione in the other.

A breathlessness overcame him as his stomach twisted violently. Realisation dawned as a physical
sensation, his skin tingling from his scalp to his toes.

His eyes traveled back to Dumbledore, bemused to find him smiling his knowing smile.

“The person I was born to love” he said, and Dumbledore nodded. “It’s Hermione.”

Dumbledore continued nodding and smiling but said “Only you know Harry.”

“I know” said Harry simply and he felt a warm fire building in his belly, emanating to the very
tips of his fingers. He took his glasses off and placed them carefully on the desk. Turning, he
walked to the door, stopping when he reached it and looking back around. “Thank you, Sir. I’ve got
someone I need to find.”

Dumbledore broke into his widest grin yet and several other Headmasters were smiling too, a few
even clapping. He looked over to Snape who regarded him for a moment and then gave him a small nod,
and a definite smile.

The corridors had never been so long as he ran along them, finally reaching the quickest route
to take him outside, to a terrace on the North Tower. Approaching the steps leading up, he felt a
rush of certainty so strong that he almost fell over in his haste to reach the outside air.
Standing there, on the damp stone terrace he looked up at the moon and smiled.

Anyone watching would have doubted their eyes. For one minute, the wizard with the dark hair was
standing there, head tilted back to the stars. Then, with a small movement he was shot up with
lightening speed – a black blur rushing upwards and into the night sky.

~*~



9. Into the Night
-----------------

Chapter Nine

Into the Night

A lone shadow walked down the front steps of Hogwarts.

Light from the Great Hall’s windows spilled in tall rectangles on to the lawn as the figure cut
through them, passing by couples who had ventured out for a moonlit walk.

Hermione walked to the cliffs edge and stood looking out at the lake, wrapping her arms around
herself to rub her bare skin vigorously – why she hadn’t thought to bring a robe she didn’t know.
She just couldn’t stay in the Hall… there had been too many questions, too many eyes watching her.
She had gone back more to give herself something to do while she waited to hear from Harry – and
had regretted it as soon as she entered. Heads bent in whispers and a group of girls who had parked
themselves around Ginny glared at her as she passed them to join Luna and Neville.

The girls had supplied Ginny with Butterbeer and tissues all night, shooting daggers at Hermione
any chance they got, particularly Romilda Vane who had somehow appointed herself chief support and
stayed by Ginny’s side, providing a steady commentary of her thoughts in Ginny’s ear. Ginny didn’t
reply to any of them, just sat hunched in her chair, seemingly too stunned or sad to do anything
but drink and wipe at stray tears.

Hermione had felt terrible. Ginny was like a sister to her, and look what she’d gone and done.
She paused in thought.

What was it that she’d actually done?

She looked up to the dark sky and frowned. The last day had been a blur, she felt like she’d
watched it all through a hazy pane of glass. Ron and Ginny coming back, Harry not telling them
about the nights they’d spent…

Wrapped in each others arms.

A flutter assaulted her stomach and she looked at her feet, an irrepressible smile tainting her
lips – although in the dark, by herself, she wasn’t sure why she was trying to suppress it anyway.
Just habit she guessed.

Her habit of pushing all her feelings for Harry as deep inside as possible, far enough down that
sometimes even she couldn’t detect them anymore. Lying to yourself was sometimes effective enough
that you actually start believing. For a while at least. She folded her arms against the cold as
she walked along the cliff’s edge.

But even her, with all her practiced emotional control, couldn’t deny that something had been
happening with her and Harry this last week.

And she had welcomed it, she thought – a quick thrill of excitement breaking through the guilt
as she recalled the new look she’d seen in his eyes these last days. Just the way he’d looked at
her in her new dress, or in the last few minutes before they went to bed together – when she’d
catch a glance from him; apprehensive but laced with the same guilty anticipation she’d be feeling
too. But it was when they were lying together, entwined too closely in the dark that she knew for
sure things had changed irreversibly.

It had been difficult lying next to him from the start, holding his hand and waking up with him
was a bittersweet kind of torture. But from the night of the funeral when he’d first pulled her
close against him, she had felt the intensity of his –and her own- feelings increasing. In darkness
they both seemed to find a boldness that left them in the light of day – their bodies fitting
closer together every night, fingers running over each others skin with a tenderness that said so
much and yet both of them still held back from talking about it. Hermione closed her eyes as she
thought of last night; how when he’d pressed her against him with such feeling, his chest against
her spine, it had truly seemed like he was hers. Tears had actually come to her eyes at how much
relief she’d felt as his body curved around hers. The intimacy had been building every night but
still deep down she hadn’t really believed anything would happen from it.

Then there was the dance.

She hadn’t meant to get so close to him in front of everyone – she’d just seen him almost fall
over and recognised he was struggling to control the flying impulses again. So instinctively, she
went to him. She had known that he would respond to her, that she could help him. And it felt so
natural to send her thoughts to him, knowing he could hear them.

But she could barely remember convincing Ginny to step aside or leading him to dance because
once he was in front of her, once they were close as they’d been every night in his bed this week,
she couldn’t think of anything but him. The feel of his warm hands in hers, then his body pressed
against her – that body she felt she already knew so well. When he had locked eyes with hers she
knew he wanted to kiss her. His eyes were such an intense green and his lips just an inch from
hers…

She jumped at loud laughter that floated across from the open front door as a group of students
walked down the steps, luckily turning in the opposite direction from her. She shook her head,
thinking of what was in store for her for the rest of this year at Hogwarts. Well, it wasn’t like
she’d ever been popular anyway. So if the whole school hated her, then so be it. At least she’d
still have Luna, and Neville. And, Harry.

Her heart gave a guilty pang as Ron’s name floated automatically into her thoughts. He hadn’t
been seen since he’d stormed out of the Hall. She had thought briefly of going to find him, but
dismissed the idea quickly – no one could get through to Ron when he was in a mood, least of all
her. That was one of many problems she was beginning to realise her and Ron had.

She had thought it was the answer. That’s me, she thought wryly. Always trying to work
everything out to a perfect, infallible answer. And being with Ron had been what she deduced would
be the ultimate solution.

The answer to her feelings for Harry.

Those feelings had grown so quickly it had scared her. One moment she’d been so fond of him,
cared for him and ached for his situation, how alone he was in the world. Then, though she couldn’t
actually pinpoint the exact moment, she began to need to see him, looked forward to any moment she
would spend with him. She’d tried to tell herself it was just that she cared for him, as her best
friend. But noticing the deep green of his eyes, or always wanting to touch his messy hair and run
her fingers through it – that wasn’t a friendship kind of thought and she knew it.

And then Ron started showing an interest in her. She’d been flattered, and immediately saw it as
an outlet. If she just immersed herself in a relationship with Ron then everything would fall into
place. Ginny was right for Harry, or so she’d thought, and then they would all be family. Harry
would be in her life forever.

But it had just felt wrong. She knew it wasn’t as if she could afford to be picky – she wasn’t
anyone’s Cho Chang or Fleur Delacour. But there were always things she wanted to change about
Ron.

She knew she had low expectations of him, and she didn’t want to start out a relationship like
that. She had first kissed him just because he showed concern for the schools’ house elves for the
very first time; didn’t she want someone who already had compassion, who didn’t have to learn it?
And though she wasn’t much for holding grudges, the moment that he’d left her and Harry at their
riverbank camp in Wales, came back to haunt her so often that she knew she may forgive, but she
would never forget it.

But she’d expected that once it had got off the ground, her relationship with Ron would sweep
her away, make her forget every thought she’d had about Harry, every dream, every delusion that
she’d admonish herself for.

As it turned out, it hadn’t happened like that, and since that horrible moment, when she’d seen
Harry lying on the grass, and thought he was dead – she knew it would never be enough. Her heart
belonged to him. And she had almost decided to take her heart to Australia, far enough away that
maybe it would forget.

Then these last few days had happened, and sent her into a spin. She’d truly thought it was her
imagination at first, but when they had lay next to each other, not even she could ignore the
tenderness with which he held her, his warm breath on her ear sending an electric current shooting
through her as he pulled her close against his chest.

A soft thump not far from her interrupted her troubled thoughts and she peered into a dark
corner, by the wall of the castle. It had sounded like a large animal had just pounced and she
instinctively drew her wand.

“Hello?” She saw a definite black shadow moving and raised her wand towards it. “Show
yourself.”

The black shadow detached itself from the dark of the castle wall. Her heart leapt in her
chest.

“Harry!” She frowned at him as he walked towards her, his hair messy even for him, his glasses
absent. “What… is everything okay?”

He was right in front of her now and there was something about him; a thrilling electricity
seemed to course from him and she thought his eyes were greener than ever as they met hers.

“It’s great.” He spoke quietly, and it sent a shiver through her. She studied his face; he
looked different, but it wasn’t just the glasses – he looked… older, and calmer than she’d seen him
for some time.

She reached a hand up to lightly touch his face. “Your glasses.”

“Yeah” he said, and smiled. “I decided it was time to stop pretending.”

She swallowed, feeling the significance of his words. Silently they stood, close together, just
breathing.

Hermione spoke. “What did Dumbledore say? Did he explain it for you?” Harry nodded and she
watched him closely. “And what did he say?”

Harry frowned a little and moved his hand to a stray tendril that had escaped her hair to tuck
it behind her ear.

“I’ll show you.”

She raised her eyebrows at him. “What do you mean?”

“Do you trust me?” His gaze flickered up to the sky and her eyes widened. He watched her face as
it registered the conflicting thoughts streaming through her, until finally her expression settled
into one of surrender.

“I trust you.”

She stepped closer and he placed his arms around her waist as she did the same to him. Slowly
pulling her gaze away from his she laid her cheek against his chest and closed her eyes.

A small squeal escaped her lips as they rose, faster than she would have thought possible. She
held tight to him and felt rather than heard his gentle laugh, her eyes still squeezed shut. The
rushing wind seemed to settle around them as they tilted into an upwards arc.

He loosened his grip and she grasped at him in response but he moved his hands to her upper arms
and she knew he was looking down at her on his chest now.

“Open your eyes.”

Slowly she did as he asked, and gasped in shock as they rushed quietly over the castle, viewing
the turrets and battlements from above for the third time in her life – the other times being on
Buckbeak and a Thestral. This was more similar to the Thestral in that there was nothing but air
underneath her, but strangely she felt more secure than any other time, as if they were suspended
in a warm pocket of air holding the two of them. It was as if an invisible energy was keeping her
buoyant – the energy radiating clearly from every part of her body that was in contact with
his.

She looked up into his face to see he was smiling down at her, the same tenderness in his eyes
as he’d shown her at the dance, but with no inhibition now, and he looked even more delighted as
she smiled back. Nodding his encouragement as she relaxed her body, he held her a little apart from
himself, slowly releasing one of her hands until they were both face down, only holding the one
hand. He smiled wider as she tentatively stretched out her other arm, breathing rapidly but her
face alight with joy and wonder. He squeezed her hand hard as a warning before taking them over the
edge of the castle and in to a dive down to the surface of the lake.

She screamed, but it was a scream more of excitement than fear, and it finished in laughter as
they pulled up a good distance from the glistening water, rushing over the moonlit lake.

He looked over at her; the wind having blown her hair loose, her mouth open and laughing.

*“You’re so beautiful.”*

He sent the thought into her head and she whipped her face around to him in surprise.

He smiled across at her and gave a very small nod, acknowledging her unspoken query, that yes
that was his voice. Her shock was obvious and inspired him to pull her in and grab her other arm,
holding her firmly into his chest again as they rose upwards, spinning slowly.

They slowed as they got higher and he lowered his eyes to hers. She was looking back up at him,
her eyes wandering all over his face. “Harry” she barely whispered. He lost all trace of his smile
as his gaze slid down to her lips. They had slowed till they were almost motionless in the air
before he bent his head and lowered his mouth to hers.

The exquisite softness of her lips shocked him deeply. His eyes closed as she pressed into him,
returning the kiss, their mouths melding together with an intense heat and making them forget where
they were. His hands tangled in her hair as they drifted upwards together, crushed as close to each
other as was possible.

Her arms wound around his neck as their kiss deepened in intensity and they turned slowly in the
air. Harry moved his hands down to close around her waist, lifting her up so her face was level
with his, her fingers holding handfuls of his own hair now. She broke away then; their faces still
close as they looked at each other, lips barely apart, and their quickened breath mingling.

He was the first to break into a grin and then she did the same, pressing her forehead into his.
Still smiling she nestled her face into his neck as he bent forward to gently kiss her bare
shoulder.

They hung there, holding each other in suspended silence and a few light drops of rain fell.

Harry pulled back to watch Hermione’s face as she studied the gathering clouds. Reluctantly he
looked away and bent a little to put one arm under her legs to cradle her to him. She looked back
into his face until he broke the silence.

“We better go back.”

A muscle flexed in his jaw and Hermione nodded and laid her head on his chest, realising they
both knew that reality was only moments away, but wanting to prolong it forever.

Harry brought them to land softly at the waters edge, not far from Dumbledore’s tomb. He set her
feet gently on the ground and then they stood there, wrapped in each other with Harry’s lips
resting on top of her head as she hugged him tightly. Neither spoke as they stayed like that for
some time, until the rain began to fall hard. Harry finally moved to take his outer robe off and
lay it around her shoulders.

He pulled the hood up to rest over her hair, adjusting it more than he needed to as he became
overwhelmed with a sudden inexplicable shyness. He wanted to tell her everything, but he felt so
full of emotions that he didn’t know how to start. He just stood, facing her, water running down
his face as she looked back up at him. She giggled at the drips falling off his nose and eyebrows
as she wiped at them and he smiled back. Cupping his face with her hands she rose up a little and
they were kissing again, her hood falling back and the rain forgotten.

When they broke away she pressed her face into his shoulder and he bent to enfold his arms
around her waist gazing unseeing at the grass behind her. Feeling like he could speak now that he
wasn’t looking directly at her face, he broke the silence.

“I came straight to find you.” She smiled into his shoulder.

He felt her smile but she said nothing so he continued. “I’ve got so much I want to say to
you.”

She nodded; also grateful they weren’t looking at each other. “You have no idea Harry.”

He kissed her neck absently. “Maybe we should go inside before we drown though.”

She laughed at that and pulled back from him, lifting a hand to her wet hair sticking to her
face. “I think that’s a good idea.” He laughed warmly too, dropping his head to press against hers
before kissing her again, holding it longer than intended but unable to stop. She returned his
intensity though, until they both silently acknowledged the now pouring rain and set off with their
arms around each other back to the castle.

She pulled the hood around her as they hurried up to the lights of Hogwarts. Harry barely felt
the rain as he walked. He knew things were still far from sorted out but somehow he just knew that
he was in the right place more than he ever had before – a glow suffused him that felt like he’d
taken a dose of Felix Felicis.

He looked down at Hermione affectionately when his eye was caught as they passed, by something
glinting on top of Dumbledore’s white tomb.

“What…” He moved them closer and Hermione turned and noticed it too. Peering into the darkness
he realized with a jolt what the object was.

A small and delicate pair of half moon spectacles lay on the white marble.

He frowned and automatically reached out for them.

“Harry, no!”

He registered Hermione’s cry the split second that he felt the jerk behind his bellybutton; she
grasped hold of him as they were transported by the portkey.

Landing roughly on wet grass he recovered slower than Hermione, registering her standing up as
he pushed himself up on to his hands and knees. It was dark, and they were still outside, but
undercover from the rain he discerned.

Then he heard her voice, tinged with panic and desperation.

“NO!”

A flash of purple light blinded him and he blinked rapidly, his arms wildly searching for
Hermione. He found her, his hand detecting her ankle. His chest clenched as he realised she was
lying on the ground and he scrambled up to her face.

“Hermione!!” he shouted at her closed eyes, her features frighteningly still. He grabbed at her
shoulders but she lay limp in the grass. “Hermione!!!”

“That muggle wench is like a bad case of vermin” said a deep voice, not far behind Harry.
“Haven’t I killed her half a dozen times already?”

Laughter broke out around Harry as he turned slowly to the voice and stared into the long pale
face of Antonin Dolohov.

~*~



10. Come Back to Me
-------------------

Warnings: Bit of low level violence

Chapter 10

Come Back to Me

Black leathery ropes materialized in an instant to snap tightly around Harry’s entire body.

He fell painfully to the ground, his futile struggles against the bindings just serving to
extract more laughter from his captors. The largest of the four hooded figures came to stand over
him and drag him roughly to his feet to face Dolohov, jabbing the tip of a wand painfully up under
his chin.

Dolohov reached him in two strides; his face an inch from Harry’s as he examined him like a
predator would his prey. Harry returned his loathing stare, taking in the Death Eater’s severely
blood shot eyes, his hollow cheeks and the pungent smell rising from his unwashed body.

“Finally. I knew I could count on your… sentimental heart.” Dolohov spit the last few words out
as if they tasted foul.

Harry’s mind fought to gain control and assess his situation but it was battling a rising dread
in him at not sensing any movement from Hermione’s body lying at his feet. He tentatively tried to
enter her mind with his but couldn’t sense anything, and he couldn’t bear to think about if that
was for any other reason than his panic clouding his senses. She had to be alright, she would be
alright. He repeated the mantra in his head as he was dragged to the middle of a clearing.

He felt a small amount of rain break through the canopy of trees overhead and decided they were
in the forest somewhere. The glasses – they had been a portkey, but how? How many times had
Hermione told him – you couldn’t apparate within Hogwarts grounds… but then there had been the
Triwizard Cup. His eyes darted round to take in a disheveled camp site- rubbish strewn around in
front of a shaky looking lean-to hidden amongst the trees, before he was dumped brutally to the
ground again. Curled on his side he saw two other figures dragging Hermione’s limp form before
throwing her down next to him. His eyes raked over her, trying to see her injury and his insides
turned to ice as he saw a dark stain across the front of her dress.

Blood.

“Hermione – Hermione talk to me!” he called to her, her colourless face deathly still. A low
growl escaped him and he writhed in frustration as Dolohov grabbed a handful of her hair and held
her face close to his before letting her drop again.

“She’s still alive, but not for long. So you better tell me what I want to hear if you want your
girlfriend to stand a chance.”

Harry raged inside as Dolohov stepped over Hermione to crouch low next to him. He found it hard
to focus as the pale face swam in front of his eyes and he recognized a physical reaction building
inside of him, his new powers striving to be awakened. He willed it down with his mind, he knew he
had to focus now, and choose his actions carefully. He wasn’t scared for himself but he needed to
keep his head for Hermione, getting her to safety was his only concern.

He took in all the details of his surroundings as the Death Eaters encircled the two of them,
Dolohov by his side, Augustus Rookwood standing over Hermione, his wand pointed lazily down at her.
He recognized Alecto and Amycus Carrow, laughing wheezily at Harry though he noted that the short
squat man hid a little behind his sister, an air of hesitation about them both.

Dolohov dragged Harry by his hair to his knees, digging his wand into his chest.

“What a pitiful sight.” He grabbed Harry’s jaw, his dirty fingers pressing hard into his cheeks.
“The boy who lived, and continues to live – in spite of EVERYTHING!” He shouted in Harry’s face,
showering him with spittle. “How?? HOW did you do it??”

His fingers tightened painfully on Harry’s face. “The Dark Lord was the most powerful -
immortal!! And then YOU!” He slapped Harry hard across the face sending him to the ground. “You
managed to overcome him again! A mere boy – a pathetic one at that.” He stood and started
pacing.

Harry lay there, his breathing even as he watched Dolohov pace with a manic energy. He noted
Rookwood still standing over Hermione, watching with amusement, but the other two held rather more
concerned looks on their faces, their eyes flicking warily to Harry at regular intervals and their
wands held in front of them were both shaking a little.

Dolohov plunged to his knees next to him. He bent close, his breath fetid, but Harry’s face
remained passive.

“What do I have to do to kill you.” He said it in a quiet and lethal voice, almost as if talking
to himself.

Harry met his eyes.

“You won’t have to. I’m going to kill you.”

Dolohov’s eyes widened momentarily till his face cracked into a grin, displaying yellow teeth.
“You! Did you hear that?” He turned incredulous to his companions, still grinning and they laughed
nervously. “He -kills me! Ha!” He frowned and dug his wand into Harry’s neck. “We’ll see about
that.”

A wave of pain burst through Harry, his whole body arching under the ropes as flashes of purple
exploded behind his eyelids. He fought to control it and suddenly, a cool calm seeped over him. His
body relaxed as the pain wracking it subsided and he opened his eyes again to a bewildered
Dolohov.

“Crucio!” Dolohov cried again, and the curse hit Harry’s body but he absorbed it as if taking a
punch then, opened his eyes again to meet Dolohov’s who screamed in frustration. Rookwood looked
from Harry to Dolohov in confusion and the Carrows staggered backwards a few steps.

Dolohov moved backwards himself until he stumbled against Hermione’s body. Turning to look down
he almost dove to her side, grabbing a handful of her hair again and pressing his wand tip into her
cheek.

“Now you tell me.” His eyes bored into Harry’s and he knew without a doubt that he was seconds
away from killing her. “Where is it?”

Harry’s eyes flickered with confusion and Dolohov laughed.

“Don’t tell me you don’t know. You’re a bigger idiot than I thought.” He pulled Hermione’s
unconscious form up in front of him and Harry’s heart gave a jump as he saw her frown in pain.
Still alive, he thought, she’s still alive. He clung to the thought as he tried to focus again on
the situation, and how to get her to safety.

“The wand.”

Dolohov watched Harry as it dawned on him – The Elder Wand. They had come for the Elder Wand. He
saw Rookwood’s eyes blaze hungrily in his pockmarked face at the mention of the wand and the
thought of it in any of their hands made Harry sick to his stomach. He struggled up to his knees to
face them.

“I don’t have it.”

Dolohov gave a frustrated shriek and adjusted his hold on Hermione to grab her in a headlock,
his other hand moving to press his wand down on to her temple.

“Then…you…will… GET IT!” The crazed desperation in his voice echoed in the dank clearing and
Harry had no chance to reply before he shoved Hermione to the ground and held his wand high before
yelling “Crucio!”

“NO!” Harry bent over, as if feeling the full agony of the curse for the first time that night
just from seeing it assault Hermione’s motionless form.

“STOP!” His mind refused to focus anymore out of fear, fear that she might not survive this.
“I’ll get it for you!!” Dolohov stopped and regarded him, his head tilted to the side. “I’ll get it
for you” Harry repeated more quietly, breathing heavily as if the curse had hit him physically
instead.

Dolohov once again pressed his wand against her pale skin as he watched Harry carefully. “I
won’t ask you again.”

“The ropes.” Harry looked down at his bound body and Dolohov nodded at Rookwood who stepped up
to Harry to release the ropes that dropped to his feet. As Harry reached for his wand, Rookwood
kept his own pointed in-between Harry’s shoulder blades and Dolohov pushed his wand harder into
Hermione’s temple.

“Try anything, and she’s dead.”

Harry nodded tersely and slowly raised his wand arm. “Accio wand.”

But even as he said it, he could feel the peculiar sensation of his spell going unanswered. The
wand wasn’t coming. He said the words again, trying not to let his confusion show on his face.
Again he felt the distinct intuition that the call had not been answered from the wand in his
dormitory. A droning panic started to build in his ears until he noticed a miniscule movement at
Dolohov’s feet.

Hermione’s hand on the forest floor unfurled gradually and he heard her unspoken thought like a
shout in his mind.

*“Accio wand…”*

A surge of images bombarded his brain in an instant, the memories flicking through his thoughts
at lightening speed.

Her face, under the cloak on his bed in the dorm, still and in sleep…a flash of red in his
vision and then… her scream and the sight of her scrambling away from him on his bed…his words,
coming back to him… *“Hermione, you need to get away from me”*… backing away from her,
searching with his hands for his wand…

His heart stopped. The wand. The Elder Wand had still been in his drawer, waiting for him to
take it back to the tomb, but he never had, he hadn’t even thought about it with all that had
happened since. So he had brandished the Elder Wand at her that morning, when his eyes had glowed
red and she had…

She had disarmed him.

And now she had worked it out. She was conscious enough to be listening and figuring out what
was happening – the thought warmed him hugely. He closed his eyes to try and deny his feelings
access to his face but he felt a movement from Dolohov and knew he was too late. Dolohov had sensed
something was wrong and he had seconds to do something to throw him off.

His mind leapt back to his last conversation with Dumbledore – two words ringing out. *“Mere
theatrics.”*

He concentrated all his energy inwards and then, in a blinding flash of white sent out a signal
to the four minds of the Death Eaters. Projecting an image of a chalk white face, complete with
snake like nostrils into each of their heads he rose slowly from the ground.

Hearing Alecto’s cry of elation he knew his images were being received and he filled his gaze
with red before opening his eyes.

The four Death Eaters were staring at him in awe as he slowly levitated, projecting an
appearance of their master onto himself with the very Legilimency he had inherited from him.
Opening his mouth he spoke to them in parseltongue, not knowing if they could understand it but
completing his masquerade.

*“Bow down before your master.”*

Whether they understood or not, Dolohov at least caught the essence of his low hisses and bent
to his knees, forgetting Hermione completely. The other three followed suit, falling to the forest
floor.

Hermione lay motionless but her hand was still open and Harry focused on his charade.

He spoke again, interested to find his transformation complete to imitate Voldemort’s cold voice
perfectly.

“You are the faithful few, trusting in my survival once again. You will be rewarded.”

The glee on the Death Eaters faces made them nearly glow in the dim light.

“I believed Master; the Dark Lord would not be defeated!” Dolohov shouted up at him. Rookwood
and the Carrows called out their agreement, looking around at each other in obvious euphoria as
Dolohov crouched forward.

“My Lord, I came back to do your bidding. The Aurors were no match for us and we escaped on the
way to Azkaban.”

Harry stretched a hand down towards him to rest just above his head, long white fingers
appearing in place of his own.

“You have done well. The Dark Lord is pleased.”

Dolohov nearly burst with restrained pride as he looked up at the vision of Voldemort. “My Lord,
the current Headmistress is naive. She allows students and inept teachers to repair Hogwarts, and
we were able to pose as some of them with my hidden supply of Polyjuice potion. We then planted
Portkeys around the school that I thought would appeal to the boy – but it seems you have already
overcome him My Lord.” He bowed his head again.

“Yes” Harry looked down on them through red eyes. “I am still alive within the boy. I will need
you to do my bidding.”

Dolohov grinned nastily. “My Lord we have been waiting for just this chance.”

The other three murmured their agreement staring up in admiration.

A glimmer of movement passed by Harry’s ear as he hung suspended in the clearing, accompanied by
a sharp whistling sound. His attention diverted, he glanced at Hermione as she struggled to pull
her upper body off the ground. The lapse in concentration caused his façade to slip – his eyes
returning to green, his face regaining its usual colour and form.

Dolohov’s eyes widened in surprise and horror as he saw Harry again instead of his beloved Dark
Lord and he realised faster than the others, whipping his head around to Hermione.

She was up on her elbows now, her hand wide open to receive the Elder Wand as it flew to fit
perfectly in her palm. Dolohov’s face contorted in rage and he pulled his wand round to point at
her in the instant that she raised her arm off the ground.

Harry propelled himself towards her, willing himself to be faster than the jet of green light
that had left the end of Dolohov’s wand. He knew instantly he wouldn’t be and he cried out watching
her slam her fist with the wand in it to the forest floor.

Blinding beams of blue light erupted in a circle from the base of the wand; too bright for any
of those watching to do anything but shield their eyes. He heard the effort it took for Hermione to
shout out the spell she choose to use - Harry not recognizing it but instantly feeling the depth of
power as she shouted the words.

“APOCALYATE!”

Dolohov’s curse was obliterated by a piercing light that burst out of the wand in every
direction. Then there was a ground shaking explosion, knocking all those standing off their
feet.

Harry managed to open his eyes again as he hovered above the scene to see a surge of transparent
energy erupt from Hermione’s hand, and burst out in an ever increasing circle along the ground, a
wave of power covering the radius of the clearing. All four Death Eaters were drawn up, struggling
painfully against an invisible power holding them off the ground.

Then there was a moment of stillness, time seemed to hang suspended and Hermione’s eyes sought
Harry – he looked down at her in a silent understanding and swooped as an immense belt of blue wind
emanated in a circle from the wand, blasting all the Death Eaters into the trees and obliterating
the makeshift camp.

At the same time, Harry dove to pick up Hermione, lifting her off the ground and above the force
of her curse, and she collapsed against him as he took them both up and through the trees.

A deathly quietness below signaled no movement from the clearing but Harry was just concerned
with Hermione now. She was lifeless in his arms, and he couldn’t bring himself to look into her
face. He sighted the clock tower of the school in the distance and turning back to the clearing he
conjured several Patronus, sending one stag down through the trees to mark the spot, and another up
to the castle.

“Hold on Hermione…please be ok…” he murmured into her hair as he took off high into the air
towards the tower. He couldn’t bear to think that he was responsible for hurting her again – why
did he touch those glasses? How did he go from the happiest moment of his life straight to the
worst? Landing near the clock he blasted a door to get inside, carrying her down the corridors to
the double doors of the hospital wing.

“Madam Pomfrey!! Help me!!” His voice cracked with despair as he burst into the long room lined
with beds. “Madam Pomfrey!! Please!!” He walked to the nearest bed and lay Hermione down tenderly
as he heard Poppy Pomfrey bustling towards him.

“Harry, what’s happened?” She bent low to check over Hermione, moving quickly and efficiently.
He held his breath until she spoke.

“She’s alive – just.” The older woman turned to Harry and he was disturbed by the look in her
eyes. He shook his head.

“You fix her.”

“Harry, I…”

“Fix her.” His eyes were filled with tears and she nodded.

“She needs to be at St Mungos but I don’t want to move her any more than necessary right now.”
She turned back to Hermione, shaking her head. “I’ll do my best.”

Harry ran a hand through his hair and stared at the ground as the doors burst open again and
Professor McGonagall strode quickly into the room.

“Harry! Your Patronus – four Death Eaters in the forest? I’ve alerted the Ministry.” Her eyes
glanced at Hermione on the bed her hand flying to her mouth and froze in the middle of the room as
if not able to go any further. Harry couldn’t bring himself to answer or even watch as Madam
Pomfrey exchanged glances with McGonagall. They spoke no words and Harry took this to be a bad
sign.

“Harry, you’ll have to leave.” Madam Pomfrey held her hand up to his protest. “You can come back
I promise – I just need to work on her alone first.”

Professor McGonagall reached his side and he reluctantly let her take his arm and steer him away
from the bed. “You need to tell me everything that happened.”

He finally looked at Hermione, lying still and frighteningly pale, but he could see her chest
rising faintly with shallow breaths, her hand with the Elder Wand of which she was now the master,
still gripped in it and lying at her side. He wanted to go to her but brushed away any urge to say
goodbye– reassuring himself he’d speak to her soon. But he knew he may be holding out false hope as
he caught another silent exchange between the two older women, worried frowns on both of their
faces.

He let himself be led to the corridor but no further from the hospital wing. He left nothing out
of the telling, and she didn’t flinch to hear him speak about his flying them up to the hospital
wing – by her reaction he suspected she’d spoken to Dumbledore. When he finished she swore loudly,
shocking Harry out of his panicked trance for a moment.

“A portkey – in Hogwarts grounds? How on earth did they manage that?”

“Polyjuice potion. They disguised themselves to set their traps. And I walked right into
it.”

McGonagall put her arm on Harry’s shoulder. “Harry, you weren’t to know. The Aurors had no idea
they were anywhere near Hogwarts, and I should have been more vigilant.” He shook his head and she
put her arm around him. “She’s in the best place now; Poppy knows what she’s doing.”

He couldn’t answer and just nodded as she told him she would have to go and see to the Aurors
arriving now. He turned back into the hospital wing.

When Madam Pomfrey let him back to sit beside the bed he pulled a chair close, his forehead
resting on his hands as they covered hers. He had to step back for a while as healers from St
Mungo’s arrived and examined her, then he resumed his position by her bed. He didn’t hear Ginny,
Luna and Neville approach until they were right next to him, Luna’s hand on his arm. They stayed
for only a minute as Madam Pomfrey hovered; Ginny hugging him as she cried and Luna giving him a
warm embrace. They told him that Ron still couldn’t be found.

He barely noticed them leaving and then Professor McGonagall was back at his side.

“Harry.”

He didn’t answer but sat waiting, looking at his hands.

“She’s hurt very badly Harry. If she makes it through tonight, she may have a chance, but it’s
only right to tell you that it’s a very slim one. I think we should arrange for her parents to be
notified.”

He looked up. “No, she’ll make it. She’s strong enough – please” he turned fully in his chair.
“Give her some time.”

McGonagall frowned at him but remained silent. She told him that the Aurors had recovered
Dolohov, dead – and the three others still alive, but barely. The information barely registered in
his numb brain, none of it mattered. She moved away soon after and he laid his head back on the
bed.

He woke up with a shock, not sure how long he’d been asleep, snapping his head quickly around to
check Hermione, his relief overwhelming as he detected her light breathing. He moved in closer to
her ear as he held her hand.

“Hermione. Please come back to me. I need you.”

Her eyelids didn’t stir and he reached out to touch her face, tracing her lips – unable to
comprehend how only hours before he’d discovered how perfect they were. He leaned forward and
pressed his lips on to hers again, then pulled back to look at her before laying his head into the
crook of her neck.

Madam Pomfrey’s heels echoed through the hospital wing as she walked down for a final check on
her patient before she retired to sleep. It really was devastating, this girl she was always rather
fond of, and she felt sure she wouldn’t make it through the night. And young Potter, he’d had
enough sadness in his life already.

She sighed as she rounded the corner of the privacy screen to see him, lying on the bed next to
her, holding one of her hands with both of his, fast asleep.

She watched them for a moment, and then pulled a blanket from the end of the bed up to his chin.
She patted him gently on his shoulder before turning and walking away.

~*~



11. Something to Hold
---------------------

Author’s note: (will delete this eventually)

I won’t bore you will all the many reasons why this took so long… illness, writer’s block,
travelling around the world, you name it…and I’ve been haunted by not posting this the whole time!
Oh the angst. My new rule is to fully finish any story before I post it, otherwise I get thrown
off. I hope posting the whole thing, fully revised (fine tuned each chapter as best I could, some
small changes) and finished makes up for it a *little* (if you’re still even interested – I’d
say you’d have to reread to remember!). This chapter, the next and a small epilogue will be posted
all at once to have it finally complete.

I’m actually scared of reviews for this one; some of u won’t like where I go with it judging by
your reviews but after much thought I finished it exactly how I’d originally planned in my head. I
hope it makes sense. Anyway I gotta get over all of that- I’m releasing it into the wild now!
Thanks so much to everyone who followed my story and offered encouragement.

Warnings: Fluff factory.

Disclaimer: Some small excerpts from canon in here so just to reiterate – HP not mine, JK’s,
just playing.

Chapter Eleven

Something to Hold

Morning birdsong woke him, his eyelids opening a crack to take in the hospital ward, brilliantly
bathed in light.

Harry was warm, he noticed a blanket had been pulled over him and he felt sure the bed was
surrounded by some kind of warming charm, given the size of the airy room.

His mind had instantly thrown up all the images from the last night and a heavy dread weighed on
him. He could feel Hermione’s small hand in his but he wasn’t ready to try and discover more yet
–admitting to himself he was again too scared to check her.

Eventually he closed his eyes and detected the soft rise and fall of her breath and the slight
warmth of her body against his. Relief flooded him and he finally moved his head on the pillow to
look at her face.

Colour had returned very slightly to her cheeks and her breathing seemed calmer than the night
before. His relief magnified - and he allowed himself the thought that she might even pull through.
He heard short and quick footsteps echoing on the hard floor, and half considered that he should
get out of the bed before realising that Madam Pomfrey was probably the one who had lay the blanket
on him. She rounded the corner holding a large tray and smiled at Harry.

“Good morning.”

He sat up carefully, trying to avoid disturbing or hurting Hermione at all. Making to get off
the bed, Madam Pomfrey put a hand out, stopping him.

“Now don’t get up on my account.” She sat on the edge of the bed and took Hermione’s wrist –
completing all of her observations of her patient as she spoke. “I’ve not seen anything like
it.”

She looked directly at Harry. “Whatever you’re doing for her darling boy, keep it up. I would
have laid my healers badge on her not making it through last night – she’d lost too much blood.”
She brushed absently at Hermione’s hair with her fingers.

“But every time I’ve checked her this morning, she’s improved.” She stood and looked down at
him, her hands on her hips. “I’ve no doubt your nearness is something to do with it. I can’t
explain it – just that I know that everything I’ve given her isn’t working. So it’s something about
you that is.”

She turned and picked up the tray, Harry noticing for the first time it held breakfast. “From a
rather odd little house elf” she commented, frowning. She held out the tray until he took it and
placed it on his lap.

“So. Whatever you do, I suggest you don’t stray too far just now.”

He nodded, and smiled at her gratefully. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He managed to eat all of his breakfast -although he didn’t feel like it with his stomach so
twisted with anxiety- but he knew for certain now that he needed to keep strong for her. He spent
the day at her side only leaving to go to the bathroom. She remained unconscious; her eyelids still
as she lay on the bed and Harry felt his optimism from this morning begin to fade. Kreacher brought
him some clothes to change into and his lunch, and, of his own accord, some of Hermione’s books
from her room, which struck Harry as such an unexpected and touching gesture that he found he
nearly cried.

The hospital ward grew gradually darker as the day wore on. Leaning back in the chair next to
her bed, he let his head drop back to look at the ceiling. He laid the book he’d been reading aloud
to her on his chest and rubbed his eyes. Deciding to shed some light on things, he touched his wand
to the bedside candles.

He hadn’t delved too deeply into the few stray thoughts he’d had of Ron, his whereabouts and
what he was feeling. He knew it was something that would come up eventually, but right now nothing
outside of this hospital ward seemed to exist. He didn’t want to consider life past the minute he
was in just yet. Besides, despite all, he felt a twinge of bitterness that Ron wouldn’t even try
and put aside his own hurt when Hermione was in a life or de…. He didn’t want to finish the
sentence, even in his head.

Looking at her in the flickering light, he had a flashback to the time he’d sat next to her bed
when she had been petrified by the Basilisk. He wondered idly if this was the exact same bed – it
almost seemed so. He remembered touching her hand then, it had been icy cold, her whole body
unnervingly cold and stiff. He’d found the note telling him how to defeat the Basilisk trapped in
her fist, now she still held the Elder Wand in that same hand. He’d thought of moving it but
decided against it – wondering if maybe the wands power was contributing in any way to her healing.
He frowned at the cruel irony that the wand would no longer be his to use just when he needed it so
desperately now.

He leaned forward with his elbows on the bed, running his hands through his hair. If only she
had a note telling me what to do this time he thought, his forehead resting on the bed, the
distinct sterile smell of the hospital sheets filling his nostrils. He needed her brilliance now
more than ever.

Suddenly a thought caused him to whip his head up, and look at her in the dim light.

Maybe he *could* ask her.

The last times he’d entered her thoughts, it had been easy, he had simply been caught up in his
emotions and it had just happened. He thought back to Dumbledore’s words – with the power of
Legilimency came the responsibility to use it wisely.

He looked out of the window at the first star appearing in the sky. How did he know if it was
right or not? He thought briefly of going to Dumbledore but aside from not wanting to leave her, he
had a feeling in his gut that this was between him and Hermione. He had to decide what was
best.

Gently picking up her hand, he rested her knuckles against his lips and stared at her
thoughtfully.

He hadn’t had a chance to tell her how he felt. Just when he’d finally been able to lower his
guard – let her glimpse his feelings, it was ripped away from him. He frowned as the guilt
overwhelmed him; it seemed all her suffering was always because of him. She gave everything to him,
no matter what it cost her, and sometimes it seemed all he’d ever given her back was pain. And yet
she loved him, he had felt it when he’d journeyed into her mind at the dance. She loved him, deeper
than he had known anyone could love.

The thought hit him with force. He understood how deeply she felt – it was exactly how he felt
for her.

*And I have to tell her*. The thought was clear in its simplicity. *It’s the only thing
that matters, that she knows this*.

He pulled himself up onto the bed to lie next to her, his head lying on his own arm as it curved
around the top of hers on the pillow. If she had turned in towards him, she would’ve been in just
the place that she’d been lying the last few nights, pressed into his chest. The thought made him
ache. Looking down at them, he registered how small she seemed against him. Somewhere along the
line, he had gotten much taller than her he mused, looking at his legs clad in jeans now,
stretching down longer than her small form covered by blankets.

*I’ve done such a terrible job of protecting you Hermione* he thought. *If you come back
to me now, I’ll look after you forever*.

“I’ll never let anyone hurt you again.” He said the last aloud before pressing his lips against
her temple, and closing his eyes.

Concentrating all his thought towards her, he tentatively entered her mind.

He found himself adrift – opening his eyes, he saw that he was floating, in warm light, white
and formless. He waited patiently – noting a wry thought in his brain that he was getting very used
to instantly adapting to alternate realities. Vapour clouds began to bubble in front of him and
curl outwards into nothingness, looking like they were trying to form, but falling apart before
making any thing of substance.

Instinct led him to call out her name.

The white vapour began to swirl faster, and when he called out again it changed colour, from
greens to blues and hints of red. He watched as it moved in spirals, settling into forms he was
beginning to recognise as trees.

The sharp smell of the lake came to him before it materialised in front of his eyes, looking
around he saw himself standing at the shore of the body of water he knew so well from all his years
at Hogwarts. He looked around, searching, vaguely recognizing this part of the shoreline as the
place he had lay next to Sirus, surrounded by Dementors. At the memory, he turned to the spot where
his Patronus had come from on that night, and then he saw her.

Sitting on the ground right by the water line was Hermione. Her bare feet were just visible
poking out the bottom of her white hospital gown as she hugged her knees tightly. Her hair was out
and full around her face and Harry could just make out her eyes, staring at the water over the top
of her knees. He made his way around the bank towards her.

She didn’t move as he approached and he felt a flutter of nerves. He stopped a few feet from
her.

“Hermione?”

She continued to stare at the lake as he slowly moved forward, watching her carefully. He
lowered himself to sit at her side. Her face was still pointed to the water but he felt she knew of
his presence.

“Can you hear me?”

Her eyes turned slowly to him, filled with tears. Some spilled out as she finally spoke.

“Harry? Where am I?”

He resisted a strong urge to reach out to her, unsure of how it would affect her. “I think…
well, we’re by the lake.”

She was searching his face and he waited.

“Why are we here?” She looked so vulnerable it was nearly killing him to stay still but he
forced himself to concentrate, not wanting to startle her.

“I don’t know – it’s just where you’ve brought us. We’re in your mind Hermione.”

He watched her digest that information and felt a huge relief as she smiled softly.

“This is my favourite place – the lake.” He watched her take a deep breath as she looked out at
the water again. “I was right here when you cast your first Patronus. And I thought then that you
were the most amazing person I’d ever meet.” She turned her face back to him, still smiling faintly
but with a deep sadness in her eyes. “I was right.”

He shook his head. “Hermione. I need you. Please don’t leave me.”

She closed her eyes, forcing more tears out and down her cheeks. “I’m trying Harry. I just can’t
hold on.”

He reached out very slowly and touched his hand to her hair. Emboldened when she closed her eyes
and pressed into his hand, he moved it to her cheek, brushing at her tears with his thumb. The
sensation felt one hundred percent real and he felt confused as to how the tears could seem truly
wet on his skin. That thought brought back Dumbledore’s words from Kings Cross, the last time he
was in a situation like this. *Just because it’s in your head, doesn’t mean it isn’t
real.*

He shifted closer and braved a kiss on her forehead, then pulled back to look into her eyes.

“I’ll show you.” She looked confused and he laid her head on to his shoulder, reaching to hold
her hand as he spoke. “I’ll show you what you have to hold on to.”

“At the dance, I looked into your mind. And I felt everything you’ve ever felt for me – every
feeling that you’ve never told me.” She didn’t say anything but flinched and shifted in his arms in
what he could only assume was embarrassment and he pressed her close. “I know that was unfair and I
didn’t mean to. But all I can think to do now is to show you the same.”

Gently he held her away from him again and cupped her face in his hands as he looked down into
her eyes. “I want to show you how I feel about you… how I’ve always felt about you. Do you think
you’ll be okay?”


Her eyes were wide and almost fearful but she nodded. He smiled at her as she closed them.

He looked down into this face that he loved beyond all others and felt a nervous thrill at what
he was going to do. Then he closed his eyes too and concentrated.

He sent her everything – slowly, so as not to overwhelm her- everything he’d ever thought and
felt for her. He transmitted it all, from the beginning, hiding nothing now.

She received the pictures from his point of view, seeing herself in his memories, through his
eyes.

Gasping, she realised she was able to feel what he had felt as she watched the pictures gently
flicker through her conscience like a movie reel.

Countless moments from their first year to the present time played out to her – making clear the
true nature of his feelings. They were all similar moments of confusion – some coming through more
recognisable to her than others.

Some were obscure, like a moment in their third year that she had to fight to remember exactly
where and when it was, but it seemed significant to him.

*“Can I sit down then?” he said.*

*She pushed a stack of parchment off the chair, not looking at him but answering, “I suppose
so”.*

*He looked around at the cluttered table and then at her, noticing how exhausted she looked.
He watched her as she reread an essay, intrigued by the pout she adopted as she frowned in
concentration. Suppressing a smile, he considered whether she knew she did that. He wondered if she
knew how it made her look kind of pretty. His insides flipped as he realised his last thought and
he shook himself, brushing it away…*

Others she remembered vividly, but had never imagined what he was thinking at the time, like his
realisation that the pretty girl next to Viktor Krum at the Yule Ball was her. The flash of
physical attraction disturbed him and she noticed that after that, he became very good at squashing
any confusing thoughts about her by immediately reminding himself of the feelings he suspected Ron
had towards Hermione. A perfect example was the moment where he came to her for advice on the
fallout of his date with Cho.

*“And it might have been a good idea to mention how ugly you think I am too” she said as an
afterthought.*

*He frowned at her – why did she say that? He studied her for a moment as she went about her
business, not looking his way. In the slight pause that followed, a flurry of thoughts assaulted
him. He knew instinctively she hadn’t said it to search for a compliment, in fact, unfathomably, he
suspected she actually thought it was true. Maybe she did think he thought she was ugly. How could
she think that? He felt a pang of something he didn’t recognize before he formed a reply in his
head – ‘But I think you’re pretty.’ His conscience - pricked into life when a flash of Ron’s face
crossed his thoughts - just stopped the sentence on the way out and amended it at the last
second.*

*“But I don’t think you’re ugly…”*

Hermione watched as the images moved on to when he first latched on to his initial attraction to
Ginny. It was obvious he was genuinely attracted to Ron’s sister, but deep down he acknowledged
that the part of the appeal was the distant idea of one big happy Weasley family.

And his confusion about Hermione never fully went away.

He needed her – to the point where it often irritated him, which explained the many times he had
snapped at her when it was unwarranted.

But these were all feelings that he was very strict with himself at leaving unacknowledged,
dismissing them as soon as they arose. When Ron and Hermione had their falling out about Ron’s
relationship with Lavender, it seemed to be the definitive moment when he realised, truly realised,
how deeply Ron felt. And so, in his mind from then on, she became his.

He even tried to pull away physically, resisting any touch that wasn’t necessary. He found it
difficult when he wanted to comfort her – but he knew instinctively that that was when he needed to
keep his distance the most.

*He found her in the first unlocked classroom he tried. She was sitting on the teacher’s desk,
alone except for a small ring of twittering yellow birds circling her head, and Harry admired her
spellwork, perfect as always, even as distressed as she was from witnessing Ron & Lavender
suctioned together in the common room in front of everyone. He hated her looking so vulnerable and
sad –he thought of moving over to hug her but thought better of it at the last moment.*

*He chewed his lip in thought.*

*Why did he even question giving her comfort? Surely, as her friend, he was allowed to hug
her. They had hugged a few times before. But they were always quick, safe, friendly hugs. He knew
from them that she was petite, delicate, but with some kind of warm strength about her physically.
She always smelt good. He wondered sometimes how it would feel to hold her longer, let her rest
against him. Some part of him knew it would feel kind of…right.*

*Which is why his feet remained glued to the floor.*

*He tried to make light of the scene she’d just witnessed but she wasn’t having it.*

*
“Don’t pretend you didn’t see him,” said Hermione. “He wasn’t exactly hiding it.”*

*Her brow was creased with hurt and he’d almost decided he could cross the distance. Fold her
in his arms for just a moment, that wouldn’t be too bad would it? Considering the circumstance. She
looked small and vulnerable and starkly attractive in her fragile state. His stomach did an
uncomfortable slow flip. His feet took a step.
*

*The door behind them burst open. Ron came in, laughing; pulling Lavender by the hand.
*

And his loyalty to Ron was unwavering in every moment. Time moved on and he gradually made peace
with the fact that Hermione obviously held a special place in his heart, but Ginny was the girl he
was supposed to be with. He convinced himself to emulate Ron and Ginny’s relationship – a brother
and sister relationship, with Hermione, as the best way of approaching her.

But he still had lapses where his thoughts showed that she didn’t always fit perfectly into the
sister role for him, as he showed her with a seemingly insignificant moment that she’d known
nothing about, between him and Ron during their time at the Burrow before they left on their
Horcrux hunt.

*Ron was flicking through a book she’d never seen before – the title read ’12 Fail Safe Ways
to Charm Witches’. He followed some text with a finger and frowned.*

*“I just wish I knew what her favourite colour is.”*

*Harry answered without hesitation or thought. “It’s blue.”*

*Ron’s nose screwed up as he whipped his head up to Harry. “How d’ya know that?”*

*Harry found his mouth opening again. “It’s obvious isn’t it? She wore a blue dress to the
Yule Ball and she has loads of blue jumpers.” A voice in his head was speaking in a panicked high
pitched tone -* ‘What are you saying… stop stop! Why are you saying this?’ *His mouth seemed
to have run away from him though, and kept going. “And her favourite quill is that long blue one.
Plus she loved those blue flowers Bill gave Fleur…”*

*The voice’s nagging finally got to him and he trailed off, looking at the ground. He could
feel that Ron was looking at him strangely and he steadfastly stared at the floorboards, trying to
think of a subject to change to. “So how many people are coming to this wedding do ya
think?...*

But aside from a slip up when he accidentally caught her eye at Bill and Fleurs’ wedding,
causing a moment of nerves, he seemed to have accepted that Ron and Hermione would eventually
become a couple. He was uncomfortable around them as they became closer to being boyfriend and
girlfriend, but he assumed that was like a brother who didn’t want to hear about his sister’s
relationship. He kept up a steady stream of inner commentary to himself about how right Ron and
Hermione were for each other but an unexplained irritation gnawed at him every time they got close.
As they traveled around on the Horcrux hunt, he became good at ignoring the whole situation. Then
came Wales, and the moment Ron left them.

He had desperately wanted to comfort Hermione that night – had lain awake for hours listening to
her cry. But he knew not to trust himself. It would only make everything worse, if he started
launching confused feelings at her, so he just tried not to question his natural reaction to be as
distant as he could. Besides, her response to Ron disappearing confirmed to him that she was truly
in love with Ron.

Hermione frowned at this memory, struggling in protest. He quieted her, drawing her closer,
still cupping her face, and kept the stream of thoughts flowing steadily.

He went on to show her the moment when Ron had come back, including seeing the Riddle Harry and
Hermione entwined in an embrace, and how transfixed he’d been by the image. But most importantly
she saw his ultimate act of friendship to Ron – to make the declaration that would save him
questioning his feelings for Hermione forever.

*The sword clanged as Ron dropped it. He had sunk to his knees, his head in his arms. When
Harry realised Rons’ shoulders were shaking from his sobs and not the cold, his guilt assaulted him
mercilessly. Every wayward thought he’d had to train himself to suppress seemed like a betrayal to
his friend, now that he saw how devastated Ron would be if Hermione wanted to be with him, Harry.
And so he spoke.*

*“After you left, she cried for a week. Probably longer, only she didn’t want me to see.” He
thought back to the last few weeks, and his initial elation that she had chosen him – when it came
to the crunch, she had chosen him. Now it seemed a hollow victory, and nothing to be proud of,
considering the hurt it was causing his best friend – the closest thing he had to a
brother.*

*“There were loads of nights when we never even spoke to each other. With you gone…” Harry
immediately buried a thought of him and Hermione, as husband and wife at his parents’ graveside. Of
how well she knew him, of how much he needed her. But he would always have her; she would just be
Ron’s. He took a deep breath.*

*“She’s like my sister.” The words rang out in the clearing, the taste of them instantly
bitter on his tongue. “I love her like a sister and I reckon she feels the same way about me.” He
hoped his voiced sounded sincere to Ron’s ears. Not empty and artificial as it sounded to his
own.*

*“It’s always been like that. I thought you knew….”*

As the images moved on she saw he assumed that Ron and Hermione were going to get together as
expected, and everything would be as it should. She realised he even took comfort from it, the more
that Harry thought he may not survive his looming confrontation with Voldemort, the more he felt
assured that things were as they should be, if his two best friends had each other.

Then, at Malfoy Mansion, he and Ron had been forced to hear Hermione being tortured by
Bellatrix, while locked in the basement and unable to help, and it cut through him to his very
soul. The intensity of his feelings had frightened him, but with so much going on, he was able to
push it to the side for the most part. When he showed her the moment that Harry watched Ron and
Hermione share their first kiss, the feelings pressed forward, but were firmly buried again until
the moment of his death.

She started to shake slightly as he projected the last thoughts that had crossed his mind before
Voldemort had raised his wand to perform the killing curse in the forest. He’d been waiting,
knowing it was coming and his thoughts had flown inexplicably to Hermione, a fleeting vision of her
eyes, looking into his, and how he imagined she might look before he leaned down and pressed his
lips to hers.

Then they were racing forward, past the final face off with Voldemort in the Great Hall and on
to the moment Hermione had found him pinned to the ceiling of the common room.

She was crying behind her closed eyelids by the time he finished showing her how her closeness,
and the situation of them sleeping in his bed together, had been just too much for even his
disciplined thinking. His guilty anticipation of their nights together and the fire that had lit
inside him when she was lying in his arms was so clear to see, she smiled, realising it was the
exact same feeling that had awakened in her.

But most startling was the realization he had been struck with in Dumbledore’s office. The
certainty that flowed through him was so powerful that she was completely awed by it, and by the
fact that it was this conviction that had finally allowed him control over his new powers. She
cried as she felt the pure beauty of the love he now allowed himself to feel.

And so, she opened her eyes.

Both of them were disorientated for a moment, in a colourless limbo until Harry felt her tears
on his neck.

He became aware of his hands on the back of her head, her body turned and curled into his. He
opened his eyes and they focused, very gradually, on the dimly lit hospital ward.

His heart leapt to realise they were no longer in Hermione’s mind. He slowly pulled back to look
down at her.

Her hair was covering her face and he took one arm from its tight embrace of her body to brush
the hair back. He forced himself to go slowly, the torture of which was almost too much to bear. He
closed his eyes tightly for one more silent prayer and then he looked at her.

Her cheeks were wet with fresh tears but her eyes, they were open. They looked up at him scared,
fragile, but very much alive.

With huge effort he kept himself still, waiting for her to be ready to speak. She glanced
around, fearfully, taking in the tall windows of the hospital ward, and then looked back into his
eyes. He smiled a tentative smile.

“Harry.” Her voice was barely a whisper. He nodded and pressed her tighter to him, stroking her
hair softly.

“You brought me back.” He smiled again and then kissed her forehead gently.

“Shh, save your strength.”

She nodded feebly and he again felt a wild impulse to yell out, or to jump from the bed for
help. Instead he summoned his wand from the side table and silently sent a Patronus down the ward
to Madam Pomfrey. He pressed her closer against him, feeling her breathe.

“Harry.”

He looked down at her again. Her lip was trembling as her eyes spilled over with tears. When she
spoke next, her voice was just a fraction stronger.

“I remember. I remember everything.”

He nodded, and stroked her face, unable to speak.

“And I love you. I love you Harry.”

He squeezed his eyes closed and his own tears fell on her as he pressed his lips firmly into her
hair.

“I love you too” he whispered. “I always have.”

~*~



12. The Best Thing
------------------

Chapter Twelve

The Best Thing

Harry smiled at Luna as she passed him another Butterbeer – surreptitiously pocketing the cork.
He clunked the bottle with hers and drank deeply, letting it relax his exhausted body. Quidditch
practice had been tough today, but he’d loved every moment of it.

He looked around the Room of Requirement, decked out in decorations that had Luna’s stamp all
over them, unusual feathers and spiked plants hung between the standard party adornments of
balloons and streamers. He smiled and made a mental note to thank Luna for organising the party –
even though he never really liked occasions like this where he was the centre of attention.

Although this time, it was more about Hermione.

He tried to resist another scan of the room for her, she would be here soon. He knew she’d still
be at the library, she had ushered him out about an hour ago so she could concentrate. They had
finished all their exams; in fact, they graduated in a few weeks. But the two of them would miss
the graduation ceremony, and that was why she was studying. She wanted to know all she could about
Australia, before they went there together. They planned to be there for at least six months, to
begin the process of restoring Hermione’s parents’ memories.

He was impatient to leave.

It had been an amazing few months finishing out their schooling at Hogwarts, but he was more
than ready to be alone, just the two of them.

Once Hermione had finally woken on that night in the hospital ward, Madam Pomfrey had sent a
protesting Harry out while she checked her over. Healers from St Mungos had made the trip back to
Hogwarts just to see the miracle that Poppy Pomfrey was so enthralled over, and none of them could
believe that Hermione had made such a recovery. She was still very fragile at first, and Madam
Pomfrey had let Harry stay with her in the ward for a few nights, sleeping by her side as he had –
sure it was aiding her recovery.

She marshaled him out on the third night, aware her patient was getting much stronger now,
though Hermione tried to protest that she might still need his presence, but her smile gave her
away. Poppy had laughed, glad that the girl was well enough to be cheeky. She had reluctantly sent
him away, her observations of the two of them together, the way they looked at each other and held
each other’s gaze, had caused her many a sentimental tear during their time in the ward. He came in
every day after that, and spent as much time in there as possible before she had to shoo him out.
In a few weeks, Hermione’s books had begun to over run the ward and Poppy had let her return to the
Gryffindor dormitory – with check ups scheduled twice daily.

The school had been abuzz with the scandal of Harry and Hermione’s very public union, the dance
and then the fact that they had been together in the forest when she had been attacked by the last
remaining Death Eaters on the run. The rumors grew more outrageous, but for the first time, it
hadn’t bothered Harry in the slightest. He didn’t care what anyone thought or said about his life
anymore; it all seemed trivial and petty, after all the losses they’d been through – and the ordeal
of nearly losing Hermione.

But what he had cared about was the continued absence of Ron.

It had been days since the dance, and Ron had not been heard from, until Percy, of all people,
finally owled Harry to tell him he was at the Burrow. Harry didn’t know what to do – how best to
approach him. He was relieved of that responsibility when he returned from the hospital ward late
one night to the common room to see Ron, sitting in one of the armchairs by the fire.

Harry stood by the portrait hole as it banged shut behind him, not quite believing his eyes. A
sharp click sounded and all the lights went off for a second, then at another click, they flickered
back on again. Harry watched the orbs fly from the object in Ron’s hand as he repeated this a few
times and then, when he left the lights on for a while, Harry approached him.

Ron watched him draw closer, and sit on the arm of the chair next to him. Harry stared at his
hands while Ron clicked the Deluminator once more, on and off. Harry broke the silence.

“Ron, I’m… I owe you an apology.”

Ron turned the silver object over in his fingers. “How’s Hermione doing?”

Harry looked over at him, but he was staring into the fire. “Better. Not completely in the clear
yet, but getting better.”

Ron nodded and continued to look into the dancing flames. “That’s good.”

Harry waited, staring at the fire too now. “I don’t know what to say Ron. I’d tell you
everything if I thought it would help. But I’m not sure I understand everything that happened yet
myself.”

Ron finally turned to look at him. “It’s okay Harry.”

“I know it was pretty…”

“It’s okay.” Ron interrupted and Harry fell silent. “You don’t have to tell me. I saw it all for
myself.”

Harry stared at him confused and Ron held up the Deluminator. “Handy thing this. Dumbledore
must’ve really known how much I needed it.” He turned it in his fingers again. “It showed me.”

Harry frowned and Ron held the silver object out to him. Harry took it, smoothing it in his
hands.

“The night I left, I was playing around with it, asking why –why you guys would do this to
me…and Ginny. Then one of the lights went into me again.”

Harry sat down into the chair as he listened intently.

“It showed me, from that first night she found you, and how she helped you. It showed me
everything that happened.”

Harry looked down, unsure if Ron was going to lose his temper any minute now. He seemed to read
Harry’s mind with what he said next.

“I’m not mad. I was hurt, I won’t lie. But we – me and Hermione, we never had what you have. We
don’t even come close.” He shook his head. “I can’t be mad at you for that. And it showed me too…it
showed me how you’ve spared my feelings all along.” He leaned back into the chair and folded his
arms. “Even when I might not have deserved it.”

Harry looked over at him, and passed him back the Deluminator. “I never meant to hurt you.
Please believe that.”

Ron nodded. “I know that. I really do.”

A tentative peace had come between them then, though they didn’t hang out together for a number
of weeks. It seemed Ron still had to get things straight in his head and Harry tried to give him
space and understanding. But it felt strange to walk to classes that Ron was going to, and arrive
separately. Ron hung out with Seamus, Dean or Neville, whoever wasn’t with Harry. Luna seemed to
divide her time between Harry and Ron, having a knack of turning up when one or the other needed
some company - more often than not that was Ron. Initially Ron tried to pretend it was a chore to
hang out with her, but Harry could see he actually enjoyed her company, as he himself did.

After Ron paid a visit to Hermione in the hospital ward, it seemed that he began to accept the
situation more, letting the stares and whispers wash over him. To his credit, it seemed to many
that knew him that Ron Weasley had grown up a lot from the whole experience. By the time Hermione
was out and back in classes, Ron was fairly accepting of the whole situation. He started asking
Hermione for help with school work again, and though they weren’t the same as before yet, Harry
felt the prospect of the three of them getting along again looked promising.

Someone not quite as gracious about the situation was Ginny.

From her initial conversation with Harry she seemed to retreat further into herself, until she
spoke to no one in Gryffindor at all. She only appeared in the dorm to sleep and change, at all
other times she was nowhere to be found.

They had all tried to talk to her; her girlfriends, Dean, Luna, and even Harry. He had waited
for her one night in the common room but she’d refused to speak with him, eventually screaming at
him to leave her alone.

Ron tried to bully her into talking with him, threatening to go to Molly about it. But Ginny
couldn’t be reached, and the very next day after Ron’s outburst towards her, she appeared at
breakfast with her hair cut severely short. Hermione had the least success, Ginny drawing her wand
and hexing her when Hermione tried to talk to her in the halls one afternoon. Mr and Mrs Weasley
drew her out of school for a week after that, but failed to get through to her – she just refused
to speak to them.

But the strangest of all was when Harry spotted her once, walking to Hogsmede with Daphne
Greengrass and Blaise Zabini. He turned to follow her, worried she wasn’t there of her own accord,
but he slowed to a stop as he saw her laugh out loud at something Blaise said. He shook his head
and turned away.

Harry frowned as he thought back to that day. He felt genuinely sorry she didn’t want anything
to do with them anymore, he’d finally realised that his feelings to her were more suited as a
sister, but he still felt horribly responsible for her unhappiness. But he knew she was suffering
over Fred’s death too, and that hopefully with time, she would talk to them again.

Looking around the party, he saw there was a good turn out; Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs and
Ravenclaws were there, and a lot of members of the DA. He searched the room once more and then he
saw her.

Hermione was talking with Susan Bones by the door, obviously just having stepped in the room. He
watched her as she talked, her hand traveling unconsciously to the necklace at her collarbone,
running the pendant up and down the chain. She grinned at something Susan said then turned
instinctively to look at Harry.

He smiled as she caught his eye and she smiled back, raising her hand to him. He didn’t take his
eyes off her as she made her way directly to him across the room, saying a brief hi to others along
the way. When she reached him she smiled up at him, grabbing hold of his arms.

He bent down to kiss her cheek, near her ear and she moved into him, squeezing his arm. She
stepped to his side then, inconspicuously taking his hand and he squeezed it back.

They were always discreet with their displays of affection around everyone else; it just felt
natural that they were more restrained until they were alone together. But it was difficult, when
every time he was near her he wanted to touch her, pull her into him, or down to sit on his knee.
She felt the same, she’d only just told him last night how much she loved that she could touch him
whenever she wanted to and he could her. But they weren’t like other couples that needed to snog or
fawn over each other relentlessly.

It was more a matter of waiting patiently until the next time they could be alone.

He leaned against a table behind him and she pressed into him slightly while she carried on a
conversation. His attention drifted as he thought of the last time they had been alone
together.

As seniors this year, they were granted overnight leave if it was approved by their guardians.
Since neither of them had guardians in any capacity, Professor McGongall had approved their request
for weekend leave when Harry had asked for it. She hadn’t said much as she signed the parchment,
but he got the impression that she thought it hardly seemed relevant to be worried about them being
alone together, after everything they’d been through.

Hermione hadn’t known anything about it until Harry was leading her out of Hogwarts, the evening
of her birthday. During the year they had often gone off alone to spend time together, around
Hogwarts grounds or Hogsmede. But when she’d expected to stop in Hogsmeade and have a dinner
somewhere, he had apparated them to Grimmauld Place. He smiled as he remembered her face as she
looked up at the dark building.

“Harry – what are we doing here? Shouldn’t we – I mean are we allowed?”

He smiled down at her and produced the signed approval. “Yes. You’re not breaking any rules -
nerdy girl.”

She swatted him playfully on the chest and then smiled, winding an arm around his waist.

“Thank you. This is really thoughtful.”

He took her hand and led her up the steps. “Just wait.”

She followed and he led her into the house, down the hall to door of the front room. He stopped
and she looked up at him questioningly until he stepped behind her and covered her eyes. She
giggled and raised her hands to his, letting him walk her awkwardly into the room. Once they were
in the middle he took his hands away.

She gasped. Thousands of tiny floating lights glowed all around the room and on up to merge
slowly into an enchanted ceiling of a cloudless starry night. Beneath her feet the floor was
enchanted to resemble soft green grass, and a large picnic blanket, set as an elegant table with
food, flowers and wine was laid out perfectly. The fireplace housed a steadily burning bluebell
fire but to the side of the room lay a view which had Hermione raising her hands to her lips, her
eyes welling up with tears. A vision of the lake at Hogwarts lay in front of them, moonlight
reflecting off its surface.

She looked over at Harry who was watching her carefully, seemingly unsure if she would approve
of his choice for her birthday dinner. She answered his unspoken question by throwing his arms
around his neck and burying her face in his chest.

“I love it Harry.” She looked up at him, and kissed him deeply. “It’s perfect.”

He smiled against her mouth and they sat down on the floor to dinner. Kreacher had appeared with
the last of the food and Harry hurriedly explained he hadn’t ordered Kreacher to help but he’d
wanted to. Hermione laughed and shook her head, then thanked the house elf, who hurried away to his
room, but not before they both saw the small smile on his face.

They finished their dinner and lay back on the grass, watching the stars. A shooting star flew
across the ceiling and Hermione squeezed her eyes shut. When she opened them, she found Harry
watching her.

“What did you wish for?”

She reached out touched his face, and then moved closer, letting her fingers run into his
hair.

“Nothing. I can’t think of anything I don’t already have.”

He smiled and drew her in to him.

They spent the night wrapped in the picnic blanket, and each other, in front of the fire. Hours
later, Harry lay watching her, propped up on his arm as she sat with the blanket tucked around her
chest. Her hair fell over her bare shoulders as she picked at the plate of leftovers they were
eating as a middle of the night feast. She grinned at him.

“What?”

*“You’re beautiful.”* He sent the words into her thoughts. She pinched at a piece of bread
and threw a bit at him, rolling her eyes. He scrambled forward to lay his head on her lap.

“Here.”

She hadn’t noticed him retrieve the small present he held out to her now from wherever it had
been hidden. She frowned.

“I don’t need anything else Harry. You got us those International Portkey tickets for Australia.
It’s more than enough.”

Now he rolled his eyes. “Just open it.”

She pulled off the paper to reveal a small velvet bag. Glancing at him, she tipped the contents
into her palm.

A small solid silver Hippogriff feather dropped onto her hand. She seemed momentarily lost for
words so he reached up and took it from her, securing the medium length chain that held the pendant
around her neck. He smiled at it, happy with how it looked on her.

“It’s goblin made and has one of Witherwings’ feathers inside.” He reached up and tucked her
hair behind her ear, then brought most of it over her shoulders; it fell all the way down to him on
her lap. “And there’s a protection charm on it – a strong one.” He smiled a little sadly. “Seeing
as I sometimes have trouble keeping you safe myself.”

Hermione leaned forward, cradling his head with her arms and kissed him gently. She pulled back
and stroked his hair and face before whispering against his lips.

“Harry. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

He smiled back. “That’s a coincidence.” He pulled her head down to kiss her.

Harry came out of his daydream as Ernie MacMillan came up to greet him, patting him hard on the
back. He talked with Ernie for a while, answering questions about their trip and asking Ernie what
his plans were for next year. When Ernie moved on, Harry couldn’t help picking up some of
Hermiones’ hair off her shoulder and winding it around his finger as she continued to talk with
Hannah Abbott.

In a break in conversation Hermione turned to him, searching his eyes.

“What are you thinking about?”

“What do you think I’m thinking about?”

She fought hard to suppress a smile. “Do you think we can go yet?”

He shook his head in mock disapproval. “Tsk. Leaving your own party. Shame on you.”

She grinned. “So you want to stay then.”

“No.”

They shared a smile and then he kissed her on the forehead before they went back to the
party.

~*~



13. Epilogue
------------

~ Epilogue ~

*Love and the Physiological Effects: The Soulmate Principle*

*Student: Lily Rose Potter, Gryffindor, Year 3.*

*Professor: Professor Luna Lovegood*

*Subject: Magical Anomalies and Muggle Irregularities*

*Note:*

*Dear Professor Lovegood*

*Here’s the rewrite of my essay that you requested. I do understand what you meant, my last
effort was probably somewhat ‘soul-less’ as you pointed out. I hope this is an improvement; it did
help to know that this will be kept fairly confidential. I think it’s a bit different from my usual
work but I hope it’s what you were expecting. I really hope it can go towards the extra credits we
discussed for my OWLS next year.*

*The Soulmate Principle.*

*Even though the word soulmate is a Muggle term, I use this title for my essay because I think
it sums up brilliantly the effects on a witch or wizard when he or she falls in love.*

*To investigate this however, we must look to the effects of love on magic in general, right
from the beginning.*

*I am, as you pointed out Professor, fortunate enough to have personal family experience on
this very subject. My father, Harry James Potter remains the only known survivor of the Avada
Kedavra killing curse, as we studied last year. It is well known that his survival was due to the
sacrifice of love provided by my grandmother and namesake, Lily Potter (nee Evans) when she gave
her life for his. The love of family is a powerful tool in a witch or wizards’ arsenal as it is
well known that dark magic finds the selfless nature of deeply held love intolerable.*

*However, as we speculated in class, it was also Lily’s enhanced powers from her relationship
with my grandfather, James Potter that made her sacrifice particularly powerful.*

*This brings me to the concept of soulmates. A muggle principle, this refers to the one other
person in the world whose soul recognises yours instantly. They are like another part of you that’s
been missing. Sometimes you know straight away as soon as you meet them, other times it’s a slow
discovery. You realise little things, like how you know exactly what they’re thinking without them
having to speak. You can feel when they’re thinking about you, no matter how far away they
are.*

*I know these things because my parents are soulmates.*

*I’ve known this even before speaking to my mother about this essay – it’s just always been
the way they are together. They know each other so well; they don’t even have to speak. I know when
they’re having this silent communication because they make eye contact, smiling slightly. It
doesn’t bother me that I don’t know what they’re saying; I only hope I have that bond with someone
else myself one day.*

*Their discovery happened slowly. My Dad says he was a fool not to realise it sooner, but my
Mum laughs it off and says that she was glad they took a while to work it out, it made it more
special. They both say they suppressed their feelings, due to the fact that they were both with
other people at the time. I can’t imagine them being with anyone else, to be honest, it just makes
me laugh to think that Dad was ever with my ‘Aunty’ Ginny and my Mum with my ‘Uncle’ Ron but I’m
just glad that they all still stayed great friends because their children (your children
Professor!) are like my brothers and sisters. I try to imagine how it used to be when you were all
at school, but I do think everything turned out as it was meant to be.*

*I’m so grateful for the love they have because I had a brilliant childhood. We traveled a lot
before I came to Hogwarts but I didn’t mind it, in fact I still love traveling and I miss it. Mum
and Dad did a lot of work at Ministries around the world and we experienced life in many different
cultures, in Canada, all over Europe, Japan, and Australia to name a few, I got a thirst for
knowledge to match my Mum’s and a taste for adventure to match my Dad’s. I do realise that their
constant traveling was in part running away from all the attention their ‘fame’ brought them, but
we never really escaped that – they were well known all over the world. They were always well
respected though, and I think some of the interest was and still is on the rumors over the extent
of their powers.*

*I’m not even sure if they know the true extent of their powers, but they are definitely
enhanced by each others presence, and the love they have for one another. My Dad told me a long
time ago that he first became aware of his love for my Mum when he found he was able to
fly.*

*It’s not something he talks about freely – but it still seems to be common knowledge amongst
the wizarding world at large. He has no problem using it for his work as an Auror, along with his
other powers. It is my favourite of his skills because he’s taken me up with him at times for a
treat. It’s the most amazing feeling; I couldn’t even begin to describe it.*

*I think it is quite special to him because he says it’s thanks to Mum that he can fly. And
it’s thanks to flying that he has Mum. He says it was his heart’s way of telling him that he was in
love with her before his mind caught up.*

*He says all his enhanced powers are a result of the certainty he felt that Mum was his
soulmate. It’s like the principle of apparition, deliberation is a big part of your control of it.
Once he learnt to be honest with himself, his powers grew overnight.*

*He has enhanced eyesight – capable of seeing great distances and in the dark. He’s able to
perform silent apparition, even to destinations he hasn’t been to before. His disillusionment
charms can render him invisible and is able to see through them too – including Polyjuice
illusions. It is likely he’s an accomplished Legilmens, though he prefers not to confirm or deny
that. All of this he can perform without a wand though he does still prefer to carry it with him.
These powers manifested not long after his last year at Hogwarts, particularly during his Auror
training.*

*He may have built these powers over time anyway, but there is no doubt he is exceptionally
young to have these talents. Studies done by a select group of Healers at the St Mungos Academy
proved that his DNA structure seemed to have a “superior vibration”, when my Mother was close. They
never completed full tests – my Dad being too impatient with it in the end – but the results were
still conclusive that her power affected his directly.*

*My Mum apparently had similar results but she also draws much power from her wand, because
it’s the most powerful wand in the world – The Elder Wand. It came into her possession from my Dad,
who she disarmed when she was trying to help him in their school years.*

*After the war, there was some discussion between Mum, Dad and the Wizengamot about the best
thing to do with the wand. But it seemed the wand had a mind of its own.*

*When the council decided they would attempt to disarm Mum simultaneously, and keep the wand
interned in the Ministry dungeons, the wand emitted a high pitched shrieking sound, shattering all
the glass in the room. It flew around the room and back to nestle firmly in my Mum’s palm. After
much deliberation, the council decided my Mother was a worthy master of the wand and she vowed to
use it to cause no harm.*

*With the wand, she can perform many of the same charms my Dad can do, but unlike him, she has
seven registered Animagi forms. Thanks to these talents, together they’ve kept their promise, to
‘cause no harm’; in fact it’s well known that they have eradicated some of the world’s darkest
witches and wizards, and even some of the Muggle world’s most despicable individuals too. They live
a quieter life since they had me, but they still put their extraordinary powers to good use in
helping others.*

*Despite all this, they’ve always remained down to earth and prioritized family and friends
above everything. Dad still always says their greatest achievement to date is that they both
feature on their own Chocolate Frog Cards.*

*I know that they would’ve liked to have more children, but it wasn’t to be. So it’s just me.
But between all the Weasley and Malfoy kids, I feel like I have brothers and sisters anyway. I’ve
never felt lonely and my parents make me feel loved and treasured, and tell me that
everyday.*

*In conclusion, I know that love of all kinds will enhance a witch or wizards’ power, if they
know, trust and believe in that love. It has the power to modify our very molecular structure when
it is powerful enough, to allow flight and possibly limitless other powers.*

*I have a feeling that the powerful love that made me has made me different in itself, but
that, of course, remains to be seen.*

~*~

The girl placed the parchment on her Professors desk, sealing it with a charm to make sure that
only Professor Lovegood could open it. She walked out of the deserted classroom hugging books to
her chest as well as lugging a large satchel full of more books over her shoulder.

Lily glanced down the hallways, deciding the best route to take. She’d said she’d meet Scorpius
and Andromeda before their potions exam to take them through the Felix Felicis potion one last
time. She didn’t know why they were so worried, they were both the best in Slytherin at potions for
their respective years, but she guessed they knew Lily was top of the school at it so maybe they
thought she could give them an edge.

She hurried along the corridors, taking a sharp right as she caught a quick glimpse of Peeves.
Damn, she’d have to take another route now. If only she had the Marauders Map on her and not tucked
away in her dorm. She could have found a secret passageway to avoid the pesky poltergeist. She
really should study it better, she, James and Hugo were getting too big to fit under the
Invisibility Cloak together if they were rustling around trying to look at the map at the same
time. She smiled to herself, deciding right then to try and get them to agree for a midnight
mission to the fifth floor again – try and finally find out what was in the off limits
bathroom.

She checked her watch and broke into a jog as she saw how late she was. Rounding the corner, she
stopped suddenly, her long black curls flying forward as she halted on the lip of a ledge hanging
over the huge central stairwell. The stairs that had been there ten seconds earlier had pulled
away, deciding to float to the opposite doorway.

She ground her teeth in frustration. She couldn’t go back where she’d come from without running
into Peeves. She tapped her lip for a moment, considering, and then slowly let her beautiful almond
shaped eyes travel around to the hall behind her, and to all other openings in the stairwell she
could see, looking to see if anyone was around. She bit her lip, her eyes seemingly troubled in
their chocolate brown depths for a moment. Then she smiled and turned around.

Lily took a few steps back along the hall and then turned. Making sure her books were secure she
ran at the chasm of stairwell, happily anticipating the rush of warm air that would take her to her
destination.

~the end~

Thanks so much for reading – (if u review…please be gentle? xxx) If u have any questions – which
u may because I’ve left a bit for you to make up yourself – ask me and I’ll answer. I’m glad I
finally got this finished and sorry again for late update. I have a spin off for the Ginny/Draco
tale of this story making bunnies in my head so if you’re interested let me know and I might write
it.

Thanks again

GG x



