A/N: I do not own any character references by JK Rowling in the Harry Potter series or agree with her comments. This story is a product of my pure imagination. I do not profit from this and will not pay for any commissions for art for this story.
There is nowhere to run
I have no place to go
Surrender my heart, body, and soul
How can it be you are asking me
To feel the things you never show?
~Show Me the Meaning of Being Lonely by the Backstreet Boys
~*~ September 1996 ~*~
Sitting in Slughorn's potions class, Hermione's hand punched the air again. "It's Amortentia!"
"It is indeed. It seems almost foolish to ask," said Slughorn, who was looking mightily impressed, "but I assume you know what it does?"
"It's the most powerful love potion in the world!" said Hermione.
"Quite right! You recognized it, I suppose, by its distinctive mother-of-pearl sheen?"
"And the steam rising in characteristic spirals," said Hermione enthusiastically, "and it's supposed to smell differently to each of us, according to what attracts us, and I can smell freshly mown grass and new parchment and —"
Hermione paused as she closed her eyes, smelling broom polish and Harry's soap. Her face felt as if it were on fire as she trailed off.
"May I ask your name, my dear?" said Slughorn, ignoring Hermione's embarrassment.
Hermione cleared her throat, "Hermione Granger, sir."
His eyebrows raised. "Granger? Granger? Can you possibly be related to Hector Dagworth-Granger, who founded the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers?"
"No, I don't think so, sir. I'm Muggle-born, you see." Hermione stated as she heard the whispers and snickering around her.
Slughorn beamed and looked from Hermione to Harry, who was sitting next to her. "Oho! 'One of my best friends is Muggle-born, and she's the best in our year!' I'm assuming this is the very friend of whom you spoke, Harry?"
Hermione nearly felt her neck pop as she looked at Harry in disbelief.
"Yes, sir," said Harry.
"Well, well, take twenty well-earned points for Gryffindor, Miss Granger," said Slughorn genially.
Hermione turned her body to Harry with a radiant expression and whispered, "Did you really tell him I'm the best in the year? Oh, Harry!" Between the Amortentia and his words, her heart rate was skyrocketing.
"Well, what's so impressive about that?" whispered Ron, who for some reason looked annoyed. "You are the best in the year — I'd've told him so if he'd asked me!"
Hermione smiled at Harry, but made a "shhing" gesture toward Ron, so that they could hear what Slughorn was saying. Ron looked slightly disgruntled. *Rowling, J.K.. Harry Potter: The Complete Collection (1-7) (pp. 2847-2848). Pottermore Publishing. Kindle Edition.
"Oh, come on, Harry," said Hermione, suddenly impatient. "It's not Quidditch that's popular, it's you! You've never been more interesting, and frankly, you've never been more fanciable."
Hermione rolled her eyes as Ron gagged on a large piece of kipper.
Hermione spared him one look of disdain before turning back to Harry. "Everyone knows you've been telling the truth now, don't they? The whole Wizarding World has had to admit that you were right about Voldemort being back and that you really have fought him twice in the last two years and escaped both times. And now they're calling you 'the Chosen One' — well, come on, can't you see why people are fascinated by you?"
Harry blushed and Hermione tried not to blush herself.
"And you've been through all that persecution from the Ministry when they were trying to make out you were unstable and a liar. You can still see the marks on the back of your hand where that evil woman made you write with your own blood, but you stuck to your story anyway. . ."
"You can still see where those brains got hold of me in the Ministry, look," said Ron, shaking back his sleeves.
"And it doesn't hurt that you've grown about a foot over the summer either," Hermione finished, ignoring Ron.
"I'm tall," said Ron inconsequentially.
Hermione glanced at Ron, rolling her eyes as she saw the post owls arriving.*Rowling, J.K.. Harry Potter: The Complete Collection (1-7) (p. 2880). Pottermore Publishing. Kindle Edition.
Brushing against him, he looked over at her and smiled.
~*~ December 1996 ~*~
"He's at perfect liberty to kiss whomever he likes," said Hermione, while the librarian, Madam Pince, prowled the shelves behind them, torn between her conflicting feelings about her best friends. "I really couldn't care less."
She raised her quill and dotted an i so ferociously that she punctured a hole in her parchment.
Harry said nothing, and Hermione looked at him.
"And incidentally," said Hermione, after a few moments, "you need to be careful."
"For the last time," said Harry, speaking in a slightly hoarse whisper after three-quarters of an hour of silence, "I am not giving back this book, I've learned more from the Half-Blood Prince than Snape or Slughorn have taught me in —"
Hermione rolled her eyes, "I'm not talking about your stupid so-called Prince," said Hermione, giving his book a nasty look as though it had been rude to her. "I'm talking about earlier. I went into the girls' bathroom just before I came in here, and there were about a dozen girls in there, including that Romilda Vane, trying to decide how to slip you a love potion. They're all hoping they're going to get you to take them to Slughorn's party, and they all seem to have bought Fred and George's love potions, which I'm afraid to say probably work —"
Hermione watched his green eyes widen, "Why didn't you confiscate them then?" demanded Harry.
Hermione sighed, "They didn't have the potions with them in the bathroom," said Hermione. "They were just discussing tactics. As I doubt whether even the Half-Blood Prince" — she gave the book another nasty look — "could dream up an antidote for a dozen different love potions at once, I'd just invite someone to go with you, that'll stop all the others thinking they've still got a chance. It's tomorrow night, they're getting desperate." * Rowling, J.K.. Harry Potter: The Complete Collection (1-7) (pp. 2963-2964). Pottermore Publishing. Kindle Edition.
Hermione watched as Harry chewed on his lip, then looked at her. "What?"
"Why don't we just go together?" Harry asked.
Hermione's heart soared to her throat, and she had to clear it. "Really?"
"It's the easiest option," Harry shrugged.
Hermione tried not to sigh in disappointment, "I can't see why not. Sure."
At exactly eight o'clock, Hermione glanced at herself in the mirror one last time before swallowing hard and leaving her dorm. Carefully, she started to descend the steps, mentally cursing herself for wearing heels. Once she reached the bottom, she found Harry standing in his robes at the foot of the girls' dorm staircase, adjusting the collar of his dress robes.
Running her hand once more over her periwinkle dress from the Yule Ball two years ago, her feet touched the floor.
"They aren't too tight, are they?" Hermione asked as Harry stared at her. "They're from fourth year, and I didn't think I'd… grown this much."
Harry blinked, then cleared his throat. "No," he said, "You look great, really."
Hermione felt a slight blush rise to her cheeks. "Thanks."
Together, they left the common room and walked through the castle to Slughorn's office. When they arrived, Hermione was surprised to find that the space had been magically expanded to accommodate everyone. The ceiling was draped in crimson, emerald, and gold hangings, resembling a warmly lit tent. Golden lanterns cast a soft, red light throughout the room, glittering with tiny fairies that looked like glowing stars.
Music drifted through the air, played by a small orchestra, mingling with various conversations and the clinking of goblets. Students in their best robes chatted in small groups with various witches and wizards, some of whom she recognized.
Neville caught their eye as he entered with Luna, who wore silver robes and a necklace that appeared to be made of mistletoe berries.
"Hey, Harry! Hermione!" Neville said cheerfully.
Hermione smiled at Luna as her gaze caught the busy house-elves in the room with trays of food, navigating their way through the crowds, which caused her to frown.
Harry leaned in. "They seem happy, Hermione."
"Because they don't know any better," she muttered, crossing her arms, then quickly uncrossing them as she saw Harry glance at her chest, which was barely fitting into the top of her robes tastefully.
Before Harry could say anything, Professor Slughorn spotted them and came over, his cheeks already rosy.
"Harry, m'boy!" Slughorn cried, raising his goblet to them. "So glad you could make it, and you brought the lovely Miss Granger! Splendid! A fine match. Brightest witch of her age and the Chosen One, what a pair!"
Hermione felt herself blush as Harry awkwardly cleared his throat. "We are just friends," Hermione said.
Slughorn winked, pulling at his jacket. "Of course, of course, but still magic loves compatibility!" He looked around and
"Harry, I'd like you to meet Eldred Worple, an old student of mine, author of Blood Brothers: My Life Amongst the Vampires — and, of course, his friend Sanguini."
Worple, who was a small, stout, bespectacled man, grabbed Harry's hand and shook it enthusiastically; the vampire Sanguini, who was tall and emaciated with dark shadows under his eyes, merely nodded. He looked rather bored.
Hermione frowned as a gaggle of girls stood close to him, looking curious and excited.
"Harry Potter, I am simply delighted!" said Worple, peering shortsightedly up into Harry's face. "I was saying to Professor Slughorn only the other day, 'Where is the biography of Harry Potter for which we have all been waiting?'"
"Er," said Harry, "were you?"
"Just as modest as Horace described!" said Worple. "But seriously, I would be delighted to write it myself — people are craving to know more about you, dear boy, craving! If you were prepared to grant me a few interviews, say in four- or five-hour sessions, why, we could have the book finished within months. And all with very little effort on your part, I assure you — ask Sanguini here if it isn't quite — Sanguini, stay here!" added Worple, suddenly stern, for the vampire had been edging toward the nearby group of girls, a rather hungry look in his eye.
"Here, have a pasty," said Worple, seizing one from a passing elf and stuffing it into Sanguini's hand before turning his attention back to Harry. "My dear boy, the gold you could make, you have no idea —"
"I'm definitely not interested," said Harry, firmly grabbing Hermione's hand, "and I've just seen a friend of mine, sorry." *Rowling, J.K.. Harry Potter: The Complete Collection (1-7) (pp. 2973-2974). Pottermore Publishing. Kindle Edition.
Hermione let herself be pulled away toward where Luna and Neville were standing near the refreshments table. After grabbing goblets of mead for both of them, Hermione swallowed hers, shuddering at the taste.
"Dance with me?" Neville asked Luna.
"I'd be delighted," Luna said, taking his hand and allowing him to lead her.
Hermione stood quietly beside Harry as Neville twirled Luna. Biting her lip, she glanced at Harry. "Harry? Would you like to dance? Just one?"
Harry blinked. "With you?"
Hermione rolled her eyes, "No, with Professor Slughorn, want me to get him?"
Harry grinned, "Nah, I'd rather dance with you. Warning, I'm horrible at it."
Hermione took his offered hand, and they moved to the dance floor. Her hand was within his as her other touched his shoulder. They danced in the quiet comfort of two friends until a loud clatter caught their attention as Filch brought in Malfoy.
"Professor Slughorn," wheezed Filch, "I discovered this boy lurking in an upstairs corridor. He claims to have been invited to your party and to have been delayed in setting out. Did you issue him with an invitation?"
Malfoy pulled himself free of Filch's grip, looking furious. "All right, I wasn't invited!" he said angrily. "I was trying to gate-crash, happy?"
"No, I'm not!" said Filch, a statement at complete odds with the glee on his face. "You're in trouble, you are! Didn't the headmaster say that nighttime prowling's out, unless you've got permission, didn't he, eh?"
"That's all right, Argus, that's all right," said Slughorn, waving a hand. "It's Christmas, and it's not a crime to want to come to a party. Just this once, we'll forget any punishment; you may stay, Draco."
Malfoy had composed his face into a smile and was thanking Slughorn for his generosity, and Snape's face was smoothly inscrutable again.
"It's nothing, nothing," said Slughorn, waving away Malfoy's thanks. "I did know your grandfather, after all. . . ."
"He always spoke very highly of you, sir," said Malfoy quickly. "Said you were the best potion-maker he'd ever known. . . ."
"I'd like a word with you, Draco," said Snape suddenly.
"Oh, now, Severus," said Slughorn, hiccuping again, "it's Christmas, don't be too hard —"
"I'm his Head of House, and I shall decide how hard, or otherwise, to be," said Snape curtly. "Follow me, Draco." *Rowling, J.K.. Harry Potter: The Complete Collection (1-7) (pp. 2977-2979). Pottermore Publishing. Kindle Edition.
Harry's jaw clenched. "I'm going after him.
Hermione's fingers gripped his wrist before he could move. "Harry, stay. There is nothing that you can do," she told him, "Even if he is up to no good, Snape is with him now."
Harry hesitated and let out a breath. "Fine."
They danced one more song in silence. As the last note faded, he leaned in. "Let's get out of here."
Hermione hesitated for a moment and then allowed him to lead her out of the office. The corridor was quiet as Harry guided her to the West Tower Battlements. The heavy door creaked open, and the night air greeted them.
Hermione wrapped her shawl tightly around her shoulders as she watched him leaning against the stones of the castle. "He wouldn't want you to feel guilty."
"Sirius died because I trusted the wrong people, because I waited too long to act," Harry whispered.
"We are just kids," Hermione said to him.
Harry shook his head. "Doesn't feel like it."
"You're not alone, Harry. You never have been," Hermione told him.
Harry looked over at her, his green eyes meeting her brown, and her heart skipped a beat. "Dance with me?"
Hermione took his hand and allowed him to pull her into his arms. Placing her arms around his neck, they swayed back and forth.
"Thank you, Hermione. For always sticking by me," Harry whispered, "Even when we disagree."
Hermione looked up at him, then leaned in to kiss his cheek. "I wouldn't have it any other way."
~*~ May 1997 ~*~
Hermione sighed, drinking a sip of her Butterbeer as the Gryffindor common room buzzed around her. Somewhere, the wireless was blasting the Weird Sisters as Ron and the rest of the Quidditch team were passing the House Cup between them.
Hermione sat down in her favourite armchair as she glanced again at the portrait hole, waiting for Harry. He should have been back by now from his detention with Snape. It wasn't keeping the others from celebrating, though, as she caught Ron's eye as he tossed a chocolate frog to Seamus and winked at her.
The portrait hole creaked as the door swung open and Harry stepped inside. Everyone cheered as they saw him. "Harry!" As nearly a dozen hands reached out and grabbed at him to pull him into the common room.
Ron came barreling toward him, the House cup in his arms. "We won! Four hundred and fifty to one-forty! We won!"
Harry grinned, and then, as if someone slowed time in the room, Hermione saw Ginny rushing across the room. Ginny threw her arms around Harry's neck without hesitation. Before she could blink, Ginny was kissing Harry.
The sound in the room dulled, and then everyone erupted in cheers. To her left, Dean's glass shattered in his hand as her stomach twisted painfully. Harry glanced at her, and she gave him a small smile. Both their eyes turned to Ron, and she expected shock or anger from him. Instead, he was stunned, then, to her surprise, he grinned.
Harry took Ginny's hand, then nodded to the portrait hole, and they slipped out together.
"I always thought Harry was going to get with Hermione," Parvati whispered to Lavender, loud enough for Hermione to hear.
Hermione's throat tightened as she closed her eyes, then stood. Navigating her way through the crowd, no one noticed her. As she reached the stairs to the girls' dormitory, she cast one last glance behind her to see Ron dancing around with the team. With a sigh, she climbed the stairs slowly, the ache in her chest getting a little more acute.
Hermione was down at Black Lake, skipping rocks, trying to calm her mind, watching the birds overhead, when someone walked up next to her.
Glancing next to her, she saw Harry. "Where is Ginny?" Hermione asked, her heart constricting slightly.
Harry shrugged, "Studying, I'd assume. Why?"
"You two haven't been apart much, that's all," Hermione commented, looking out at the lake.
Harry shoved his hands in his pockets and kicked a rock into the lake, "If I… nevermind."
Hermione looked at him, "No, what's wrong?"
Harry looked at her, "For months now, whenever I saw Ginny with Dean, it was like there was this snarling monster in my chest. When we finally kissed, it was released."
Hermione swallowed uncomfortably as she turned her gaze back to the lake. "And now? Is the monster… gone?"
"Yes, but not in the way I thought," Harry admitted, "It feels… weird."
"Weird?" Hermione questioned.
Harry nodded, "Weird." Harry closed his eyes, then opened them. "Walk with me?"
Hermione nodded, and then, together, they set off around the lake. Neither spoke for the first ten minutes until Harry paused. She saw his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. "Hermione, I'm terrified."
Hermione turned to him, "Of what?"
Harry looked at her, "I got Sirius killed. I couldn't bear to lose someone else I loved."
Hermione took his face in her hands, "YOU didn't kill Sirius. Bellatrix did."
Harry leaned into her hand, "If I lost you… or Ron, I couldn't…" he trailed off.
Hermione got onto her tiptoes and kissed his forehead, "You don't have to worry about that. You are stuck with us."
Harry went to open his mouth to reply as Hagrid's booming voice called their names, and they quickly separated.
"There yeh are!" he called, "Been lookin' for yeh two. What ya doin' out here?"
Hermione nodded, her heart still thudding rapidly in her chest from what she and Harry had just shared. "We'll head back."
As they followed Hagrid as he spoke about some of the creatures of the forest, Hermione's hand brushed against Harry's, and instead of pulling away, he looped his pinky finger into hers tentatively.
Nearly reaching the castle, Hermione leaned over, "I'm scared too."
Harry glanced sideways at her, "I know."
~*~ June 1997 ~*~
"How does this sound?" Ron asked, showing her his parchment.
Hermione glanced at it. "Better." She stated as she saw Harry come through the portrait hole.
"What does he want?" Hermione asked, seeing Harry's pale face. "Harry, are you okay?" she added anxiously.
"I'm fine," said Harry shortly, racing past them.
Hermione watched him dash up the stairs and turned to Ron, "Do you think something is wrong?"
"I hope not," Ron said as Harry jumped down the stairs and into the common room, skidding to a halt where Ron and Hermione sat.
"I've got to be quick," Harry panted. "Dumbledore thinks I'm getting my Invisibility Cloak. Listen. . . ."
Quickly, he told them where he was going and why. He did not pause either for Hermione's gasps of horror or for Ron's hasty questions; they could work out the finer details for themselves later. ". . . so you see what this means?" Harry finished at a gallop. "Dumbledore won't be here tonight, so Malfoy's going to have another clear shot at whatever he's up to. No, listen to me!" he hissed angrily, as both Ron and Hermione showed every sign of interrupting.
"I know it was Malfoy celebrating in the Room of Requirement. Here —" He shoved the Marauder's Map into Hermione's hands. "You've got to watch him and you've got to watch Snape too. Use anyone else who you can rustle up from the D.A., Hermione, those contact Galleons will still work, right? Dumbledore says he's put extra protection in the school, but if Snape's involved, he'll know what Dumbledore's protection is, and how to avoid it — but he won't be expecting you lot to be on the watch, will he?"
Hermione swallowed hard. "Harry —" she began, her eyes huge with fear.
"I haven't got time to argue," said Harry curtly. "Take this as well —"
He thrust the socks into Ron's hands.
"Thanks," said Ron. "Er — why do I need socks?"
"You need what's wrapped in them, it's the Felix Felicis. Share it between yourselves and Ginny, too. Say good-bye to her for me. I'd better go, Dumbledore's waiting —"
Hermione's heart jumped into her throat as her stomach sank. Jumping up, she shouted, "No!" said Hermione, as Ron unwrapped the tiny little bottle of golden potion, looking awestruck. "We don't want it, you take it, who knows what you're going to be facing?"
"I'll be fine, I'll be with Dumbledore," said Harry. "I want to know you lot are okay."
Hermione tried not to cry as she threw her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek.
Harry swallowed hard, "I'll see you later. . . ." And he was off. *Rowling, J.K.. Harry Potter: The Complete Collection (1-7) (pp. 3197-3199). Pottermore Publishing. Kindle Edition.
The dormitory was dark and still, the moonlight coming through the windows casting pale shapes across the walls. The sounds of an occasional sniffle were all that remained from her dormmates. Lavender had cried herself hoarse, and Parvati was still whimpering in her sleep. But Hermione felt nothing but numbness.
Lying stiff on her back, her eyes open, staring at the canopy above her head, her chest ached. A deep, heavy numbness settled into her stomach.
Dumbledore was gone.
Snape had betrayed them as Harry had always suspected, by killing him.
And Harry had seen it all.
A strong, strange pull, like a magnet pulling her out of bed, tugged deep within her bones. It felt like the tug of an apparition, deep at the heart of her magic. Harry.
Pushing her covers back slowly, careful not to wake the others, she swung her legs over the side of the bed. Slipping into her slippers, she wrapped her dressing gown around herself and crept out the door.
Descending the stairs, she met not a soul. Finding the common room dimly lit, the fire now just embers, shadows dancing against the walls. Hesitating at the foot of the boys' staircase, she was about to climb them when a quiet voice broke the silence.
"Hermione?"
She turned, her breath catching as she saw him.
Harry sat in her favourite chair by the fire, hunched over. His face was pale even in the dim light as she approached him, noticing the streaks of dried tears. His eyes, red and puffy, met hers, revealing his exhaustion.
Without speaking, Hermione crossed the room to him and sank to her knees before him. Reaching up, she pulled him into a hug. Harry didn't resist.
His arms wrapped around her as he broke down, sobs wracking his body as he buried his face in her hair, clinging to her as if he let go, she too might disappear.
"I tried…" he gasped. "He made me watch… and I couldn't stop any of it."
Hermione crawled into his lap, rocking him gently, "I know, I'm here." She held him close to her chest as he cried, her tears soaking his hair while she kissed the side of his head. She continued to hold him until his sobs began to soften, her fingers threading through his messy hair. A log popped in front of them as Harry's breathing slowed, but he didn't let go of her. His arms were tight around her, grounding him.
Hermione shifted slightly as he looked up at her, their eyes meeting, raw and vulnerable. Their noses brushed against each other. Lips grazed, and then Hermione wasn't sure who started it, but they kissed.
It wasn't soft or slow. It was everything they'd buried: fear, desperation. Their mouths moved against each other, Harry gripping her hips tightly as she clung to his robes, guiding her to straddle him.
It was life rearing in the face of death.
When the need for air became too much, Harry tore his lips from hers and rested his forehead against hers, chests heaving.
"I'm sorry," He whispered, his voice hoarse.
Hermione ran her hand over the side of his head, her thumb brushing his jaw as she looked deep into his eyes. "I'm not," she whispered.
Harry just pulled her closer.
When Hermione awoke the next morning, she was alone in the chair with a blanket tucked around her.
Preview of Chapter 3- Wreckage
Turning the knob slowly, she eased the door open. Peeking inside, she saw Harry lying in bed, propped up against the headboard, and with a slight smile, she saw he was reading Hogwarts: A History. His head turned to the door as he reached for his wand before realizing it was her. He smiled as he set the book down.
"Hermione, I thought I wouldn't be seeing you until the Burrow," he whispered, sitting up straighter.
She stepped in and quietly closed the door behind her, casting a silencing charm with a wave of her hand. Her shoes came off with two soft thuds, and she climbed onto the end of his bed like it was second nature, which it had become.
Hermione finally spoke, her voice hoarse, "I have nowhere else to go."
Harry frowned. "What happened?"
Bowing her head, she whispered, "I did it, Harry."
Sitting up fully, he ran his hand through his messy hair. "Shite, you obliviated your parents?"
She shook her head. "No, I researched for weeks. I found a spell, an old one that was nearly forgotten, and supposedly reversible. It didn't just erase a moment, it erased my existence. From their memories. From their lives." Her eyes met his. "They think they are new people. They sold their practice, took the money, and flew to Australia this afternoon. I waited until they were gone safely, then I locked up the empty house and came here."
Harry reached for her, and she collapsed into his arms, shaking with sobs.
"I did it to keep them safe," she whispered into his chest. "They'll live after this. That alone is worth it. And if I…" she trailed off, "If things don't work out, they'll suddenly remember everything in Australia so they can make the choice to return."
"I'm so sorry, Hermione," Harry mumbled as his cheek rested against her hair. "I wish you didn't have to do this."