Work Text:
“Oh, there you are Harry! Come on, we’re going to be late!”
Harry put his book down, frowning at Lavender.
“Late for what?” he said. What could he possibly have planned with Lavender?
“Truth or Dare.” she replied. Was that a game?
“Truth or what?”
“Truth or dare!” she shouted. As though saying it louder would mean something different.
“Yes, I heard that bit, but what does it mean? And where are we supposed to be going?”
A look of realisation dawned across her face, making an ‘O’ shape with her mouth. She sighed, hiding behind her hands.
“Ron didn’t tell you, did he?”
No, probably too busy snogging you…
“Tell me what?” he said. Annoyance crept into his voice. Get to the point.
“Well, tonight, seeing as it’s the last night of term, I thought it would be nice to get together and play some games. I asked around and people wanted to play truth or dare.”
“Right. So whose going?” he said. He really wasn't in the mood for playing games in a big crowd right now.
“Only us Gryffindors, just my dorm and your dorm.” Well, that’s not so bad.
“Have you really never heard of Truth or Dare? I thought you grew up, muggle? You must’ve played it before at school?”
Images of Dudley and other boys chasing, punching, and kicking him flooded his mind. He grimaced, Lavender must’ve noticed. She frowned, her eyes soft. She said nothing though; he wondered if Ron had mentioned anything about him to her. Probably not, Ron knew little either…
“Never.” he said.
“Well, that changes, starting now!”
She grabbed his hand, beaming, and set off, dragging him up the stairs. He chaffed, tensing up at once. There’s only one person who’s allowed to do that, and you’re not her.
Lavender ignored his resistance, instead she winked and said, “Come on Harry, Hermione will be there too.”
Strange, it shouldn’t have bothered him, but hearing the words made his heartbeat just a little bit faster. What does that mean? He shook his head. Probably just the number of stairs. Still, he felt like there was something he was missing… something obvious. In any event, despite his better judgement, he trudged along behind Lavender, much to her amusement.
Lavender was right. They were late. Everyone was waiting and by the looks of things, they’d been here for a while. It was nice to see his friends so relaxed and for a moment Harry simply leaned by the doorway, watching, marvelling at the wonder of it all. To his left, Dean and Ron howled beneath plies of sweet wrappers as Seamus chased chocolate frogs around the room, becoming more vulgar and more flustered with each missed dive.
In complete contrast, Neville and Hermione huddled around a herbology book in deep discussion while poor Parvati stared blankly at them. Every so often Hermione shot furious glances towards Ron. Harry sighed. Why couldn’t his two best friends ever get along?
As soon as Lavender entered, Parvati’s face lit up and she rushed over, immediately babbling about whatever nonsense they usually talked about. Harry lingered in the doorway, the now empty staircase looking rather enticing. He could slip away, nobody would see him, it’s not like he’d be much fun anyway, he just had to-
“Harry!”
Too late… Although he couldn’t fight the grin tugging on his lips. Instantly, two arms wrapped themselves around him, filling him with a brilliant warmth that only Hermione’s hugs could bring.
“I’m glad you’re staying.” she whispered in his ear, making the hairs on his neck ripple. What she really meant was ‘I know you tried to escape’. How does she do that? As she leant back, her lips twisted into a coy smile which confirmed it.
“Well, you know me, I love large gatherings…” he said and winked at Hermione.
She giggled, which was a ridiculous sound for her to make, yet made his heart leap all the same. It was endearing. When their eyes met, he found it hard to think; it was like being sucked in, which was ridiculous and yet here he was. Her own expression was blank, peaceful. Her beautiful brown eyes mesmerising. Hermione leaned forward slightly, his own head not far behind. Closer and closer an-
“Ahem!” Harry jerked round, catching his breath. It was like waking from a dream. Lavender stood next to them, her eyes gleaming and even stranger, she looked… guilty? Harry worried her face would split in half if she smiled any wider. Why?
Then Hermione shifted beside him and it all came flooding back. Oh no. Did we? Did I just? That means Lavender must’ve thought we were-
“Sorry to interrupt your, um… greeting… we’re about to start.” Her eyes flickered to their interlinked hands. Wait- when did that happen?
Hermione reacted first, dropping his arm like it was on fire, then shifted away from him, avoiding his gaze. He frowned, rubbing the spot she’d been holding, now cold and empty, with no hint of the warm tingling sensation. His cheeks were blazing, his heart pounded like a drum.
Lavender, her eyes darting between the two, tried to break the awkward silence.
“Well… anyway, we’re about to start so…”
“Great, come on Harry, let’s sit down.” said Hermione, now smiling again. She hesitated, her hand hovering inches away from his, took a deep breath and grabbed it. His entire arm felt like it was tingling. Why? Why does it feel this way? He never got the chance to find the answer as Hermione was already pulling him inside, pushing past Lavender, who was still standing in the doorway gaping at her.
Harry rolled his eyes, letting her lead the way. It was the last day before the Christmas holidays. Why not…
This time, however, Hermione did not sit beside Neville, brushing off his greeting and heading straight for Harry’s bed instead. Then, still holding Harry’s hand, she grabbed his pillows, put them in a neat, seat like pile and flopped down. That raised his eyebrows. Still, he plopped down beside her all the same. Ron stared at their linked hands and smiled, which led to even more questions. Questions Harry desperately wanted to ignore.
Lavender took centre stage and everyone went quiet.
“Thanks for coming everyone! I’m so happy you all came. Before we start, I thought I’d explain the rules since some people might not have heard of Truth or Dare.” She grinned, glancing at him.
“So, we’ll go in order around the room. One person will ask you a question and you must answer it truthfully. If it’s too embarrassing or personal, you will have to do a dare instead, which can be anything your questioner wants. Obviously, nothing too dangerous like – ‘play with the Whomping Willow’ or ‘attack a teacher’.”
Ironic. During their third year, they’d done both on the same night…
For a moment, he and Ron locked eyes, daring the other to laugh, while Hermione shook her head. The others stared at them, confused.
“Boys…” she muttered.
“You were right there with us Hermione, so don’t-”
“To save you!”
Harry didn’t have a retort for that.
“If everyone’s ready, who wants to go first?” said Lavender.
Silence. The howling wind filling the void.
Then Seamus stepped up, chest puffed, confident.
“I’ll go first, ask your question.” he said, eyeing the boys carefully.
Opposite him, Ron and Dean muttered between them before turning towards Seamus with evil grins on their faces. Neither could hold it together.
Dean spoke.
“Alright then-” he was shaking with laughter. “How many- how many girls have you been with?” Seamus’s eyebrows rose by what seemed to be inches. His jaw dropped. Parvati took a sharp intake of breath and began choking, much to Lavender’s amusement. Meanwhile, Dean and Ron snorted like little children. Harry leaned back beside Hermione and smiled. It was going to be a long night.
Hours later, they were still at it.
Ron had told everyone about the time Ginny had sent paint pots after him, using accidental magic for stealing her toys. Ron’s eyes lit up as he recounted the desperate chase scene, how Fred and George had picked up paint cans and joined in. It had all ended when Fred tripped, dropping the paint down the stairs, landing on Molly’s head. According to Ron, half the burrow had become a multi-coloured mess and none of the boys had been allowed out for weeks. Still, Harry would’ve given anything for a childhood like that.
Neville got out of one by agreeing to pull a kind of prank on Snape, much to everyone’s shock. He looked faint, almost grey. Harry couldn’t wait to see how that one turned out.
The things people had asked were brutal. Parvati had been reduced to tears already.
Now it was Hermione’s turn. He felt her tense up beside him and Harry had to agree, he was worried. She took a sharp breath as Lavender stood up to ask her question.
“Hermione, describe your crush.” Harry’s stomach lurched. Her WHAT?
“My WHAT?” Her hand locked onto his arm in a vice like grip. She was shaking.
“Your crush.” said Lavender, her eyes glimmering as she smiled sweetly at her. “Or, if not, then my dare is-”
“I’ll do it. I’ll describe him.” A collective gasp echoed around the room.
Hermione took a small glance at him before gulping and spoke with a croaky voice.
“The boy I like is- is kind, not many people know this, but deep down he’s one of the nicest people I’ve ever met. He makes me laugh, and he makes me cry. He’s brave too, a true Gryffindor. He’s saved my life more times than I can count and I know that no matter what, he’ll always have my back, and I’ll always have his.”
She turned to him now, her eyes glistening. It took him a minute to process what had just happened, caught in her beautiful brown eyes again. The more he looked, the more he realised they were trying to communicate something. But what? Wait-
Sensing his confusion, she sighed, then continued.
“It’s you Harry.”
Oh-
“I think part of me has known for a while now. I want you to feel the same way, but if that’s not-”
“Hang on- Hang on. I’m your crush? I-I,”
He couldn’t breathe. He had to get out of here. Cloak in his pocket, the decision was made.
“I- I’m sorry I need time to think- I’m sorry…”
Harry rushed from the room before anyone could stop him. In the stairwell, Hermione’s sobs echoed, chasing him down each step. The urge to run back up the stairs and comfort her was overwhelming, but he couldn’t go back, not yet. It would only make things worse.
In no time at all, he’d thrown the cloak over himself and slipped past the Fat Lady, she wasn’t happy about that.
“Ugh, portraits need sleep too, you know, Harry! I know it’s you!”
Harry rolled his eyes. That one definitely wasn’t true…
Now more than ever he was grateful for the Christmas Fairies lighting the way, it made traversing the usually dark, gloomy corridors much easier.
He walked for hours until his feet were aching. With every corridor he passed through, the panic became less and less, his thoughts clearer, making it easier to think about his feelings. And what they were where Hermione was concerned. She loved him! Harry Potter! Me!
Why? That was his first question.
The second was much more complicated.
Do I feel the same way. Of course I do! On some level, he would always love Hermione, as a friend, a sister- no, that felt wrong. Very wrong. He groaned, kicking the suit of armour stood next to him. Ouch! He swore loudly, rubbing his foot. Why does th-
“Harry?”
Harry shot round so quick, he lost balance and toppled into the suit of armour, clattering in a half-invisible heap at the bottom of the hallway. The helmet smacked him right on the head for good measure.
“Ah, maybe I should’ve announced myself better…” the voice said. The unmistakable voice of Professor Dumbledore.
His heart sank. Now he was in for it! Desperate, Harry untangled himself from the pile of armour as quick as possible. After slipping his glasses from the helmet, he turned, facing the Professor who stepped towards him. He bit his lip and stared at the ground, expecting anger or disappointment. Instead, the Professor chuckled as though the event had made his day. Maybe it has? Harry had no idea what was going on.
“Sorry sir, you startled me.” he said.
“Quite so, quite so.” he said, his eyes glimmering in the fairy light, “That, however, is not the issue. Isn’t it a bit late for a midnight stroll?” he raised his eyebrow and all at once fixed Harry with an all too familiar stare.
“Um, yes professor, I just needed some time to think and-” he’d said too much. “-it’s nothing.” He added quickly. Professor Dumbledore didn’t need to hear about his ridiculous teenage problems. The Professor frowned, his gaze piercing Harry.
“So, you’re meandering about the corridors at midnight for nothing?”
The Professor smiled.
“Come Harry, tell me what the problem is. Perhaps I can help.”
“Really sir. It’s not worth your time.”
“Nonsense! As a student at this school, you are always worth my time.”
Harry didn’t argue, the headmaster seemed determined, and truth be told, he didn’t really want to be alone right now. Without a word, the headmaster turned and led them into the nearby empty classroom.
Professor Dumbledore took one glance at the hard wooden chairs, shook his head and drew a sleek wand from his shimmering purple cloak. He waved it once and two brilliant chintz armchairs appeared by the front desk. Another wave and a tray of fresh tea and biscuits appeared beside them. He took one of each and motioned for Harry to do the same before settling into one of the comfortable looking chairs.
I love magic.
Harry copied the Professor. Neither spoke, content to drink in silence. After ten minutes had passed, Professor Dumbledore put down his saucer and folded his hands together.
“Now Harry, what’s troubling you?”
His grip became shaky as the reason he was here came flooding back to him. Still, he took another strong sip of tea and started.
“Ok, well, this evening we were playing a game called truth or dare in the common room.” He glanced up, and the Professor nodded. “It was all going great until it got to Hermione who was asked…” his throat closed around the words. “-to describe her crush. She- Well, she described me- no, she outright said it was me!”
Merlin! Harry didn’t think he could blush any harder if he tried. Had he really just said that to Professor Dumbledore, of all people! It was unbelievable! He buried his head beneath his arms, mortified.
Then something strange happened. Something completely unexpected. A hand, a soft hand, gripped his shoulder. He looked up to find Professor Dumbledore smiling at him.
“Come now Harry, we all have our awkward moments, that’s what makes us human.” he said. It was reassuring, in the moment. Until he continued.
“I ran.” Said Harry, in a small voice. “After she’d finished- After what she said- I left her-”
He felt sick, like his stomach was twisting and contorting inside him. I hurt her.
The Professor turned pensive, folding his hands together.
“You blame yourself.” Harry nodded. “Everyone reacts to news differently, Harry. Yes, right now she may be upset, but I know you’ll make it right.”
“How can you know that? She might not even want to see me after this…” he muttered, staring into the distance. Professor Dumbledore frowned.
“You’re right, I don’t know that, but I like to think I know you. Will you ignore her because of this?”
“No.” he shook his head, of course he wouldn’t.
“Do you think Miss Granger will ignore you? Or to rephrase, have you ever known her to give up easily?”
“No.” he said, grinning now. Never.
“Then I’m not sure what the problem- ah, I see… you don’t feel the same way?”
That was the question. Did he?
“I-I don’t know, maybe?”
“Well, have you thought about it?
“What do you think I’ve been doing for the last 4 hours!” he burst out, before blushing.
“Sorry Professor, I didn’t mean that.”
“It’s quite alright. What I meant was, what do you feel truly? When you think of her, what comes to mind? Search deep, deep into your heart and you’ll find your answer.” He smiled. “I’m sorry I can’t be of more help, Harry. This is something you have to figure out on your own. Alas, I’m sure you’ll come to the same conclusion I have.” He winked at Harry and beamed before raising from his chair. Harry was speechless.
“I’ll make sure you’re not disturbed. Take as long as you need.” He swept towards the door, pausing just before leaving. He turned back to Harry.
“Oh, Merry Christmas Harry!”
“Merry Christmas Sir… thank you.” He said, smiling.
Then at once the professor vanished into the dark and Harry was alone once more with his thoughts.
Search your feelings… search your feelings…
What are my feelings?
What do I really think of Hermione?
Well, she’s smart, funny. Her hair is so soft and long… and the most mesmerising eyes OK… she’s pretty. Beautiful. She’s never left my side, ever. Even when Ron had, when everyone had. Not her, never her.
Is that it, though?
No, she’s always been there to pick me up. She gives amazing hugs. She notices the little things, the things no-one else ever picks up on. It’s unnerving, but in a good way. The best way.
Tonight when we were outside the dorm, that moment. What was that? It was like magic. Were we really about to kiss?
He didn’t really have much experience in that regard well except once, but it felt nothing like that. No, it felt better…
When I’m with her, it just feels right. I don’t have to try to be anyone else. To her, I’m just Harry, not some hero or something to exploit or use. Only Harry. And that’s why I love her. Oh, Merlin… I’m in love with Hermione!
Harry was gone. She’d opened up to him and he’d run away! A disaster! At least that what it felt like. What have I done? Did this mean their friendship was over? She paced, arms locked across her chest, in the common room. I’ve scared him off for good this time!
No. Absolutely not. She wasn’t giving up that easily. She’d wait all night and all day if needed. Even if it meant missing the train home. It couldn’t end like this. It wouldn’t. No matter what, he needed her, and she needed him.
Still, what if he was gone? What if he didn’t want her at all? Maybe the whole thing was too weird, too awkward to put aside? Damn Lavender and her ridiculous game! She flopped down hard onto the sofa, desperately fighting the tears threatening to spill.
Could she bear it if Harry locked her out? Last time in their third year had been the worst moment of her life. Everyday had been hell, having to watch him and Ron go on without her. Forced to watch from the side-lines. Alone. Would it happen again?
Tears were flowing now. She couldn’t stop them as sobs wracked her body. How could she make this right?
Could she make this right?
It’d been hours since Harry left. Rain pounded against the windows, giving her a headache. She had to do something. But what? He could be anywhere! What if he needs my help? No, she sniffed, I’m probably the last person he wants to see now.
Still, maybe there was a way she could check. What about the map? Yes! She’d have to sneak into the boy’s dorm but that was easy enough. Especially with Ron’s snoring. Reinvigorated, Hermione leapt off the sofa and tiptoed towards the boy’s staircase. Not five steps later she heard it. Something behind her. A most peculiar sound. Like, fizzling. Strange, the fire went out hours ago…
She turned and the sound grew louder, more akin to a spitting campfire now. There were sparks too, popping and cracking. Hermione reached for her wand, her heart racing when- Flash! The sparks roared into a blinding flame and for a split-second Hermione though the whole table would go up in flames! She covered her eyes, but it was already over. In its place lay a small piece of parchment. A letter. With trepidation she stepped towards it. A voice, Harry’s voice, shouted at her for being so stupid, begged her not to, what if it’s a trap? But she had to know. Damn her curious nature! Her hand jerked towards it, still conflicted. Then she saw the handwriting, she’d seen it before, last year, during the holidays. A sharp pang of guilt pierced her chest. One of the hardest summers of her life.
The writing was Professor Dumbledore’s, now even more worried she took a deep breath, snatched up the letter and tore it open.
It said,
Miss Granger, my apologies if I startled you. Do not worry, Mr Potter is safe. I shall look after him. I have no doubt he will return tomorrow morning. He is rather conflicted at the moment and needs time to think about tonight’s revelation. Do not let the events of tonight trouble you. Hope is never lost unless you allow it to be and I’m a firm believer that things which are meant to be, will be.
Please try to get some rest, you have a long journey ahead of you. Enjoy your holidays!
Merry Christmas,
Professor Dumbledore
Hermione’s heart was pounding. She couldn’t believe it. Professor Dumbledore had just given her relationship advice!
Harry was OK, she told herself, wrapping her arms tight about her body. Still, the last time she’d followed Dumbledore’s instructions, it had really hurt Harry. Hermione rubbed her face, still not knowing what to do.
She sighed, laying back on the sofa, her body ached suddenly feeling very heavy, she was exhausted… Maybe a few hours wouldn’t hurt? She’d still be able to catch Harry when he came in. And anyway, Professor Dumbledore still believed there was hope, and that’s what she held onto, as she drifted off to sleep…
Something was pecking at him. An incredibly warm something. Ouch! Sharp too. And why was his pillow so hard? He opened his bleary eyes, but it vanished in a poof of bright flame.
Fawkes? What the heck is going on?
He turned to the window and was blinded by the sunlight. How long have I been asleep?
Harry shot to his feet, snatching his cloak, neatly folded, from the table. Strange… he didn’t remember folding it. His hand hovered over the door handle when a fierce pounding made him jump back, startled.
“Oi, I know you’re in there, you little brat! I’ll have you cleaning the toilets with a toothbrush!”
Filch. Great.
Trapped, his eyes searched the room for another exit. Nothing. He’d have to wait him out with the cloak. His heart raced. He glanced at his watch, 6:30. Not enough time. All the while, his aching body groaned and protested. He had to make it to Hermione. He had to.
“Don’t make me fetch the headmaster!” Oh, please do.
Then things got stranger.
“There’s no need Argus, I’m right here.”
Harry’s shoulders sank as he let go of his breath.
“P-Professor Dumbledore!” His voice went up an octave.
Something clattered against the door.
“What appears to be the problem, old friend.”
Now the old caretaker sounded proud.
“The fat lady told me, sir, said she’d seen a student leave the common room and not come back. Mrs Norris lead me here. I heard noises. Someone is up to something in there, Headmaster. Mark my words.”
“Nothing gets past you does it Argus.” Said Dumbledore, condescendingly.
Filch let out a harsh chuckle, but Harry wasn’t sure Dumbledore had meant it so sincerely…
“Now, let’s find your culprit.”
Harry snapped up the cloak and threw it over his head just as the door slid open. Filch came rushing in, greedy eyes bulging from his wrinkled head.
“I’ve got you now-” He stopped dead in his tracks, his jaw fell open. The fire in his eyes simmered, dismayed by the apparently empty room. Professor Dumbledore strode in behind him, unable to suppress the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“Oh my… there’s no one here… Imagine that! It would appear you’ve been chasing a ghost.” Dumbledore spoke with a hint of mirth. Harry could see the gleam in his eyes. He winked at Harry when they made eye contact. It always unnerved him how the professor knew exactly where he was under his cloak.
Filch was furious. Harry held his breath as the caretaker stormed past him. His hands balled up tightly as he paced across the room searching under desks, behind cupboards, even checking the ceiling fixtures. The more he looked, the redder he became. It reminded him of Uncle Vernon.
“I don’t understand,” he muttered. “They must’ve done some magic trickery and escaped! Yes, that’s it! They must have-”
“Argus, there’s no one here, I can assure you of that. Why don’t you go and get some rest?”
“But-but the student-” said Filch, as he narrowed his eyes.
“Will be found, you have my word. Now please, get some rest.” There was a tone of finality in his words.
Filch sagged, looking defeated.
“Very well,” he said, trudging from the room.
Professor Dumbledore shut the door behind him and beamed at Harry.
“So, did you find your answer?”
“I did. I-”
“Harry, I don’t need to know. All that matters is that you do.”
Harry nodded, grateful that he didn’t have to explain his reasoning to the Professor.
“So then, what are you going to do about it?” said Dumbledore, smiling serenely.
What was he going to do about it? Only one thought came to mind.
“I need to tell her.”
The memory of last night stung sorely. How could he leave her like that? As if it wasn’t enough to walk out on her in front of everyone. To disappear all night on top of that… he rubbed his face. She was probably going out of her mind with worry. He had to get back. He needed to get back. Just to know she was okay. To apologise. And to tell her he loved her, even more than he’d ever thought.
“I need to get back, Professor,” he croaked.
“Quite right, there’s only a few hours before the coaches start to leave.”
Harry’s face turned to horror. He hadn’t even started packing.
Seeing Harry’s distress, Dumbledore continued.
“Don’t worry about packing. Your friend Dobby assured me he’d have it ready in time.”
Dobby? Harry raised his eyebrows. What kind of disaster would he find when he opened his trunk?
“Thank you, sir. For everything.” He smiled.
“Nonsense Harry, what kind of headmaster would I be if I did not look after my students? Now, quickly, before you run out of time.” he said, ushering Harry towards the door.
Harry was about to leave, but one thing was still bothering him.
“Sir, did you know I’d choose her?” The Professor smiled, his eyes twinkling.
“Harry, anyone who’s seen the two of you together could tell. Now go!”
Harry grinned and shot off down the corridor as quickly as he could manage without alerting Filch, who was no doubt still skulking about.
It was still early, and the corridors were deserted. The fat lady was slumbering in her portrait. Harry wasted no time shouting the password loudly and waking her up. He felt no remorse after she’d snitched on him last night.
After slipping through the portrait, his eyes immediately fell on a small figure curled up on the sofa.
As soon as he laid eyes on her, he felt horrible, like he’d been winded. Her eyes were red and puffy, her hair all over the place, she shuffled and Harry jumped, taking a sharp breath.
Her eyes flitted open, the mesmerising brown eyes that almost sucked him in. Shakily, he let out his breath.
Immediately her eyes were on him or at least were she thought he was.
“Harry?” she said in a small voice. A desperate voice. He felt like he’d been cut, stabbed, and punched all at once. Without hesitation, he slipped off the cloak and strode over to her.
Her face lit up as soon as she saw him before twisting, frowning, no doubt as memories of last night returned.
It was time to make it right.
“Hermione I’m so sorry-”
“Harry I’m so sorry-”
They said in unison. He put his hand up, but Hermione went on.
“Harry I’m so sorry, I thought- well it doesn’t matter, I don’t want to lose you, ever. Please, I can’t lose you as a friend. Let’s put this mess behind us and move on. I’m so sorry.”
She broke down on the chair, hunching over as the tears streamed down her face. Harry couldn’t bear it anymore.
He rushed over and scooped her up in his arms, holding her tight against him. She melted into his embrace, her breathing slowed until it was in sync with his own. All the while, he rubbed comforting circles on her back and curled locks of her hair through his fingers.
Eventually, he spoke.
“Hermione, I can’t believe how awful I’ve been to you. I’m so, so sorry. I just- I needed time to think things through. Somewhere I knew you wouldn’t follow. I never imagined it would hurt you like this.”
“Harry-”
He ignored her. His eyes blazing into hers with as much intensity as he could muster.
“Hermione, listen to me. I will never, ever leave you. For any reason. EVER. Not unless you want me to.”
“Never…”
“Good, because that leads on to my second point. I’ve spent all night thinking, searching my feelings, trying to figure out how I feel about you. You should know that I love you Hermione, that’s obvious. But as what? At first, I thought I loved you as a friend, a sister. Purely platonic. But it felt wrong. My mind kept flashing back to one thing. The day it all changed. The day I almost lost you. When you-” He ground his teeth. “-went down in the Department of Mysteries, I lost it. I was useless. If Neville hadn’t been there… I don’t know what would’ve happened. I knew from that moment that without you, my world would stop. That I wouldn’t be able to go on. Its taken me a long time to figure it out, but that was the day my feelings changed. And now I know.”
“Know what?” She whispered. afraid of the answer.
“I know this. I love you Hermione Granger. You’re the one thing that matters to me above everything else. It took me a while to realise-”
Hermione leapt up, wrapping her arms around his head as her lips crashed against his own in a surge of pure ecstasy. That familiar warm tingle spread across his whole body like a raging inferno. It was the best thing he’d ever felt! Like being under a thousand imperious curses at once!
He took in every little detail. Her silky smooth lips. Her intoxicating vanilla perfume. The cute way her little nose wrinkled up as she smiled. What he would give to stay like this forever.
When they finally came up for air, they were giggling like idiots, forgetting all about last night. It didn’t matter anymore. Harry wrapped his arms around her, snuggling as tight as he could get he rest his head against her soft curls. Her slow breaths lulled him to sleep. Harry shut his eyes, letting his exhaustion take him. They had to leave in a few hours. That should bother him… but neither cared.
They were together, and that’s all that mattered.
Best Christmas ever!
“I don’t know Ron, they look pretty close to me.” said Neville, staring at the two floating names on the map.
“They’re probably just hugging.” he said, rubbing his forehead. Neville sighed. He was in denial.
“Ron, they’ve been ‘hugging’ for nearly thirty minutes! Their names are practically overlapping! Face it, they’re together now.” Ron shook his head.
“No, they can’t be.” He said. Then he got up out of bed and headed for the door. Oh no.
“Where are you going now? I swear Ron, if they’re finally happy and you ruin it, I’ll-”
Ron held his hands up and smiled sheepishly.
“I swear, Neville, I just want to check. They won’t even know I’m there.”
Neville sighed, rolling his eyes.
“Fine… but I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
Ron just shrugged and headed off downstairs.
It had only been a few seconds before he heard Ron exclaim, “Bloody Hell!”, followed by shrieks of “RON!”. Ron himself came sprinting into the dorm seconds later, his face redder than his hair. His eyes were wide as he stumbled over to his bed.
“They were- they were- kissing… a lot…” he spluttered, then collapsed on his bed. Neville chuckled as he walked over and patted his back.
“I tried to warn you… I’m happy for them, though. They deserve it, don’t you think?”
Ron sat up and smiled at Neville.
“Yeah, they do.”