Chapter 3
Seventh-year Potions, like Defense Against the Dark Arts, was another class so small that the houses had been mixed altogether, instead of the usual two houses per class. And even with all the houses, there were only ten students in the class. Which didn't surprise Hermione since seven years of dealing with Snape was a lot for anyone. Most students stopped taking potions in fifth year after OWLs.
Hermione sometimes wondered if anyone noticed the dearth of British Potion Masters since Snape had been teaching.
Snape stood at the front of the classroom lecturing on enhancement potions, which were strictly controlled.
"Some of the most complex potions require inhuman acuity and perception to brew. What does this mean then for brewing them?" Snape demanded at the front of the class. Hermione's hand shot into the air, and he ignored it, saying condescendingly, "What it means is that the potion must be brewed in two parts — first an enhancement elixir, which itself is beyond the skills of most potioneers, and then the actual potion you aim to brew."
Snape waved his wand at the chalkboard, and two complex spells slowly etched themselves in chalk.
Draught of Obedience.
When the chalk was halfway through the name, the sole Hufflepuff in the class, Ernie McMillan, gasped audibly. Hermione glanced over at him to find his face pale and his mouth half open in shock at what they were about to brew.
"While normally this potion is forbidden, we have been given special dispensation by both the school and the Ministry to brew it for our NEWT level potions project. It will be safely destroyed after brewing." Snape pointed to the name of the potion and asked ironically, "Now who wants to guess what the potion does?"
Hermione didn't bother to raise her hand this time; she knew Snape wouldn't call on her.
"Right," Snape said to his unmoving class. "We are brewing an unforgivable. The imperious curse is difficult to maintain for most, as it requires utmost concentration depending on the strength of your target — the success rate for this potion, if brewed correctly, is much higher. I'm sure you can draw the implications of that." Snape said insinuatingly.
While Hermione thought all unforgivables were heinous, she'd always feared the imperious a little bit more than the rest. Being forced to do something against your will seemed terrifying. The idea that the Ministry would give them permission to brew something so terrible at Hogwarts was both horrifying and completely expected at the same time.
The idea of the finished draught being destroyed was also suspect. She remembered when Snape had given them a test to brew veritaserum, and then it was later used on students by Umbridge in fifth year.
Hermione didn't want to brew this for whatever nefarious plans Snape had for it — or the Ministry potentially- but she also didn't want bad marks. Hermione tapped her finger nervously on her parchment for notes as she thought about her dilemma.
Harry, separated from her by only a slim aisle, reached toward her. Hermione noticed the movement from the corner of her eye and quickly shifted away before he could touch her. She felt his gaze on her but refused to look his way.
She knew she had to talk to him eventually about what had happened after he left her at the book shop, but she didn't want to do it right now. She wasn't wholly on board with Luna and Padma's belief that Harry might be influenced by what she thought.
When Snape gave them leave to go start gathering their potion ingredients, Hermione stood up quickly, avoiding looking at Harry. It was hard because he followed right behind her, and her neck prickled from his presence at her back.
"What's wrong?" Harry asked quietly as the students moved among the supplies laid out on the western wall.
Hermione pretended she didn't hear him, carefully selecting her ingredients as she knew Snape placed poor quality items amongst the ingredients to weed out students who didn't choose with a discerning eye.
Harry was far too smart not to realize why she was upset. Did he really think she wouldn't care that he'd beaten a Muggle family? The memory of the incident—combined with her own confusing feelings for him—only made her angrier.
Hermione was so preoccupied with her own thoughts and Harry's presence next to her that she almost picked up a moldy jar of sliced bitter root. Typical of Snape to include poor ingredients as a test. She passed up that jar and selected a fresh one, ignoring the way her heart was racing from Harry's presence at her back.
Harry stood too close to her as always, or perhaps it was a normal distance, and she was just too sensitive to the heat of him. Her senses were on high alert to every aspect of Harry Potter.
"Hermione." Harry tried again, a thread of demand in his tone. "Talk to me."
Her hand tightened on the jar, and she had to force herself to relax before she cracked the fragile glass.
She intended to turn around, but her eyes met Snape's watchful black gaze first. Blast. She could already see the calculation in his gaze. Snape was going to report everything that happened in class to Dumbledore, just as he had the time Harry had prevented her from getting burned during a potion mishap.
Fine. She'd deal with that, too. Her shoulders tensed as she turned, avoiding Harry's gaze to move along the table of ingredients. When she grabbed for the powdered fairy wing, she accidentally knocked two of the pouches off the table.
"Is there a reason you're making a mess like you're as brainless as a Cornish pixie, Miss Granger?" Snape snapped immediately.
"Sorry, sir," Hermione muttered, picking up the ingredients carefully. Her heart sped up unpleasantly at being made a spectacle by Snape again. Thankfully, none of the pouches had opened, or Snape would have thrown a bigger hissy fit.
She braced for Snape's customary sneer, only to discover his attention wasn't on her—it was fixed past her shoulder. Hermione turned, catching Harry's piercing green stare locked onto Snape. It was Snape who looked away first, whipping around so quickly his cloak snapped behind him as he stalked back to the blackboard.
Hermione exhaled slowly, trying to calm her heart. She turned away, clutching her ingredients, and walked back to her cauldron. As she approached her table, she found that Harry and Snape weren't the only ones paying her unusual attention.
Draco's gaze tracked her all the way back to her seat, and he didn't look away even when she caught him staring. His silver eyes were narrowed, appraising, as if mentally recording everything to deliver to someone else — someone like Harry.
Hermione forced a serene expression on her face, lowering her head slightly so her curls obscured her face. She couldn't avoid a conversation with Harry forever, but she was definitely going to avoid it for today until she'd had time to think through her approach.
Hermione set her ingredients on the table slowly with steady hands, despite the three wizards watching her for different reasons. Snape's sneering surveillance on behalf of Dumbledore. Malfoy's assessing observation was no doubt for Harry.
But why did Harry watch her? Why had he always watched her?
No one will ever love you the way that I can.
Her heart fluttered like the snitch Harry played with so often.
OOOooooOOOOoooOOOO
Lunch was almost a continuation of Potions class. She could feel Harry's stare from the Slytherin table, but she determinedly ignored it, talking animatedly to Padma and Luna. Anthony Goldstein, another Ravenclaw in their year, cut into their conversation as he'd been doing for years. In Anthony's world, there was nothing more interesting than what Anthony had to say.
"I saw you got the nail in for transfiguration last week, Hermione. I also got the nail in almost immediately, which I'm sure you noticed." Anthony said.
Because, of course, the most critical thing on Hermione's agenda was noticing when Anthony accomplished something. It was just a bit disheartening for Hermione when other girls reinforced Anthony's narcissism. The fact was, he was intelligent and handsome, with sun-kissed blonde hair and a body that seemed to have stepped from a modeling magazine.
Hermione barely noticed he existed. She turned from Padma and gave Anthony a bland smile. "Really? Amazing."
Both Luna and Padma giggled at the heavy sarcasm in her tone, but Anthony preened. He turned to Padma and offered, "I know you're struggling, but I can help you."
"Oh, no, I couldn't take up your time," Padma said insincerely.
Anthony nodded seriously. "Yes, I'm very busy, but I can still squeeze in some time for you, Padma."
Padma jumped up. "No, thank you." She looked at Luna and Hermione. "I'm done eating — if you guys are done, want to go for a walk around the lake?"
Luna smiled and jumped up too. "Yes! Perhaps we will see Horace; he hasn't been feeling well lately."
"Bye, Anthony," Hermione said cheerfully, standing up to join her friends.
Anthony frowned at them. "I'm not finished eating, so I won't be joining you."
Luna gave him a sweet smile. "That's too bad, Anthony." And all three girls walked outside giggling.
As soon as they were outside, Padma burst into loud laughter. "That never gets old."
"And he never gets a clue." Hermione joined her laughing.
Luna frowned thoughtfully. "I've always wondered how he got into Ravenclaw."
"Well." Padma said, mimicking Anthony's voice." He did get the nail hammered right after Hermione."
Hermione nodded seriously. "Which,of course,everyone noticed."
A strong wind blew their hair in their faces and caused ripples across the lake. Hermione shivered and pulled her cloak tighter around herself.
A spell his the center of her back, spreading warmth through her limbs, and she whirled around. Harry stood there, his hands hidden in the folds of his cloak. A breeze ruffled his messy black hair, pushing the strands back and revealing the deep red of the jagged scar on his forehead before it was hidden again when his hair settled.
Determination gleamed in his eyes as he spoke, "Can I talk to you for a minute, Hermione?"
Padma and Luna didn't move and instead glanced toward Hermione for how she wanted to handle the request. Hermione took a deep breath.
She needed to talk to him, and this was sooner than she planned, but there was no reason to wait now, was there? She nodded at Padma and Luna. "I'll catch up with you later."
Padma looked hesitant, but Luna caught her hand and tugged her along the trail circling the Black Lake. The faint crunch of their footsteps slowly faded until there was only silence as Hermione and Harry stared at one another.
"I thought we were over you running away, but you ignored me in Potions," he said quietly. "And now you ignored me at lunch."
He had to know why she was upset. Should she be blunt? Tell him she was angry over what happened in Hogsmeade? Hurt? Confused?
"I thought we were friends, Hermione."
That jolted her, and she took a step toward him. How could he even say that after what he did? "After you left me at Tomes and Scrolls— what did you go do?" She demanded.
Harry's expression didn't change. Instead, his body relaxed even further, his feet sliding slightly apart so he was braced as if for a duel. "I told you I had some things to take care of."
"What exactly did you go take care of?"
"Are you mad because I left you?"
Hermione took another step closer to him, so close their robes brushed against each other. "Did you hurt that Muggleborn's family?" She searched his eyes, but their dark green depths hid his secrets.
Harry didn't betray himself by so much as a twitch with her question. He said nothing as he stared down at her, and she wanted to shake him. He had done it, she knew it. But some stupid, stubborn part of her was desperately trying to make excuses,please, let it all be some big misunderstanding. He couldn't have. Please, please.
She shoved that part of herself deep as she stared up into his shadowed eyes. "Tell me what you did." She whispered fiercely.
His head lowered slightly, and to anyone else looking on, they might have looked like lovers whispering sweet nothings to each other with how close they were. His lips hovered a breath away as he whispered, "Tell me why it matters so much to you?"
He reached for her, his hand cradling her hip as if to keep her from moving away. Even through her cloak, his hand felt like a burning brand. He tightened his grip, pulling her even closer. Her breasts brushed against his chest through the layers of their clothes.
"You feelit, don't you?" He asked.
Such a vague question, and yet she knew exactly what he meant. The electric feeling that sparked between them whenever they were close. The way her heart sped up when she met his eyes. The way everything felt sharper, clearer, more intense with Harry.
She licked her lips, and his eyes followed the movement. "Tell me what you did." She repeated softly, entreatingly.
His hand squeezed her hip. "If I don't, will we still be friends?"
"Oi, get a room, love birds!" Theo Nott called out teasingly.
Hermione sprang back from Harry, dislodging his hand and looking beyond him to see Theo and Draco approaching.
Draco shook his head at Theo. "Way to ruin the mood, biscuit brain."
"Hermione—" Harry reached for her, but she stepped back even further.
"No." She said firmly. "You don't want to answer my questions? Fine. I won't answer yours either."
"I'll see you after class on Thursday," Harry said firmly, reminding her of their tutoring sessions.
Her hands fisted at her sides as she ignored him and spun around. She strode quickly back toward Hogwarts to hide in the Ravenclaw common room. She felt Harry's gaze on her the entire walk until she disappeared into the castle.
She didn't look back.
OOOooooOOOOoooOOOO
The next day, Hermione knew her time had run out when she looked up from revision in the library to see Ron Weasley making his way purposely toward her. He was frowning with a determined glint in his bright blue eyes.
When he got to her table, he leaned over a little to whisper in a low voice. "Dumbledore wants to see you."
Her hand tightened on her quill for a moment, and she wanted to demand what Ron had told him, but remembering Snape's black gaze on her during potions, she knew it wouldn't have just been Ron. "Fine." She murmured, gathering up her things.
Much like their first visit to Dumbledore, Ron led her to the headmaster's office—this time without dragging her—and, fortunately, they didn't run into Harry along the way.
The adults were spread out in a semicircle around Dumbledore's desk with Dumbledore at the center. Somewhere in the back of the room, a low screech announced Dumbledore's pet phoenix, Fawkes, before silence descended as she faced them.
Lupin and Professor McGonagall looked uncomfortable as they faced her, their gaze frequently going to Dumbledore questioningly. Ron stopped stiffly beside her.
McGonagall cleared her throat. "Thank you, Mr. Weasley. You can leave now."
Ron's mouth opened as if he were about to argue, and McGonagall raised one eyebrow challengingly. Ron's mouth snapped shut, and he glanced toward Hermione. Anger and jealousy churned in the blue depths of his eyes, but he turned away and left without another word. Perhaps he'd already said all his complaints about her to the professors.
Hermione felt the weight of the adults' stares as silence descended once Ron left. She pressed her lips together and refused to start the conversation or make excuses.
After a long moment, it was Alastor Moody who finally broke the silence. "Well, girl, tell us what you've found out about Potter. It's been almost a month."
Hermione wet her lips, keeping her expression serene while staring blindly forward. "Harry hasn't yet revealed anything to me; he's only talked about some of his beliefs."
Moody scoffed, but Dumbledore looked interested. "Beliefs in what, Miss Granger?"
Hermione recalled the conversation that had so unsettled her during the second tutoring session. "That muggles are dangerous. That they don't belong in our world…. " Hermione trailed off, thinking. "It was strange, but when he said it, it felt very personal, as if he himself had been treated poorly by muggles, but how could that be if Voldemort raised him?"
McGonagall's jaw tightened as she looked over at Dumbledore. "She deserves to have all the information for what we're asking her to do, Albus."
Dumbledore didn't acknowledge her statement but continued to stare at Hermione. "It's a small-minded point of view to put all people in the same category based on one experience, wouldn't you agree, Miss Granger?"
The words were stinging like nettles, trying to turn her path. It almost reminded her of the way Harry's words had made her feel. Each tried to persuade her to their worldview. But she could make her own decisions. She ignored Dumbledore's question to ask him, "Do you know why he would think that about Muggles, professor?"
Dumbledore sighed, his shoulders drooping. "We do have information that Mr. Potter's aunt and her family, whom he had been placed with after his parents died, may not have treated him well."
May not have treated him did that mean exactly? "Did they hurt him?" Hermione's heart sank to her toes at the thought of Harry being hurt, and she swallowed convulsively.
Dumbledore shifted, looking faintly uncomfortable as he averted his gaze from Hermione. "We don't know exactly what went on in that household; all we know is he was not treated well."
"I don't understand — if he was with his aunt — how did Voldemort get him?"
"Voldemort killed them and took the boy when he was only five years old," McGonagall told her, ignoring the glance from Dumbledore.
Five years old. What must have been done to him that he remembered them so clearly to have such firm convictions against Muggles? Hermione had only cheerful, slightly blurry memories from that young. Yet at the same age, Harry was being taken in by Voldemort.
The thought of what he might have endured twisted her stomach. She remembered Harry sitting in the warm sunshine streaming through the classroom window, confessing how he hated the cold.
"We know he's mainly stayed with the Malfoys over the years," Lupin advised her. "But our source says that Voldemort frequently takes him away for periods of time, and it's not known fully what happens to him during those visits."
Hermione shivered at the thought of getting frequent visits from Voldemort as a child. He was the magical world's boogeyman, and yet Harry had been exposed to him often from a young age. The fact that Harry had mainly stayed with the Malfoys also explained why Harry had such a close connection to Draco Malfoy.
Hermione gazed at all of them. "You should have told me this before."
"Would it have changed anything?" Snape asked. "How are you going to get any information anyway when you were ignoring him in my class? He was obviously trying to talk to you."
"I was upset," Hermione admitted.
"Why, what did he do?" McGonagall asked, concerned.
"Harry didn't do anything to me, but I heard about the attack on the Muggle family Saturday near Hogsmeade station…" She paused and took a deep breath. "It was Harry and his friends, wasn't it?"
Lupin frowned sadly. "We think so." He glanced at Dumbledore. "We were hoping to catch them in the act —"
"What?" Hermione asked sharply, cutting him off. "You used that Muggle family as bait?"
McGonagall flinched at the accusation, and her eyes dropped to the floor.
"Listen, girl—" Moody began aggressively.
"No!" Hermione felt like her insides were burning; she was so angry. "Tell me you didn't deliberately put that family in danger. Tell me you didn't give them special permission to visit, just hoping you could catch Harry and the rest!"
Moody's magical eye swiveled around the room, inspecting each of the occupants. "You're acting likewehurt that family, girl." He stepped forward, dragging his peg leg behind him. "In fact, you seem eager to put the blame anywhere else except where it belongs — on the shoulders of the people who hurt that muggle family."
Hermione stumbled back as if the words were blows. Was she so eager to lay blame on them because she wanted to make excuses for Harry? God, that hurt. All of it hurt.
Silence fell as the group stared at each other before Dumbledore cleared his throat softly. "It was not our intention to put anyone at risk." He said softly. "But this is a war, Miss Granger — albeit a quiet one that we are struggling to keep out of the papers."
Hermione remembered Padma's words about the Order being so covert that most people didn't even know to support it — or that there was a faction fighting Voldemort and his ideology. "Why don't we come out into the open — fight him head-on? Protect our people."
Snape scoffed. "The only thing that would do would give them a clear list of people to eliminate. Right now, there are only suspicions. Are you so eager to die, Miss Granger?"
"Severus." McGonagall snapped.
Dumbledore shook his head sadly. "That wouldn't work, Miss Granger. And we are depending on you to help us with Mr. Potter— don't you want to save him?" Dumbledore's usually soft blue eyes were sharp as they caught her gaze. "Everyone is depending on you— even Mr. Potter, although he doesn't know it yet."
The words dug into her, and Hermione swallowed hard. She wasn't stupid; she was one of the brightest of her generation. She knew they were using her.
Manipulating her.
A dizzying realization settled in Hermione's chest. She did want to save Harry, that was true — but it wasn't just from Voldemort — maybe it was from the Order too. Would the Order protect Harry, or did they just want to use him too?
Hermione dropped her gaze from Dumbledore's sharp inspection. "I do want to save Harry." She confirmed softly.
"Then be his friend, Hermione," Dumbledore said persuasively. "Be his best friend. And bring him to our side."
OOOooooOOOOOoooOOOO
Hermione's back was ramrod straight as she sat in the library on Thursday after classes. She knew Harry would come eventually, and she was still torn in two about everything happening. The library's heavy silence only magnified the churn of her thoughts, rising and falling like waves as she stared unseeingly ahead. Even her breathing followed the same restless rhythm.
A wave came with tangled thoughts of Harry being hurt. The trauma Harry must have endured being with Voldemort for so long — how much had those experiences shaped who he was today?
Then those thoughts washed away with the suspicion that Harry had likely beaten a Muggle couple severely. Had he used his fists? She remembered how big and callused his hands had felt. Or had he cursed them?
She hadn't asked for details from Padma or the Order. Even now, she wasn't sure she wanted those details. Her mouth dried up, and she swallowed several times.
Be his friend, Miss Granger. Dumbledore's voice echoed in her ears as a shadow fell over her, and she looked up into dark green eyes.
"Harry."
Be his best friend.
And bring him to our side.
Harry froze as he stared at her, and her breath caught. The moment stretched for so long she grew lightheaded before he reached out, grasping her shoulder. "It's time for tutoring, Hermione."
She hadn't even agreed to attend the tutoring session, yet she gathered her books without protest. When Harry picked up her bag, she didn't comment—she'd expected he would. Then he extended his hand toward her, waiting for her to take it.
There was no question of course — she reached out and took his hand instantly. The action was almost like instinct. Her mind felt fuzzy, thoughts still crashing about, but his hand was warm and grounding, holding onto hers tightly as he led her along to the classroom. She followed mutely, staring up at his wild black hair.
They must have passed other students along the way to the classroom, but Hermione's vision had narrowed to only Harry. He was the only person who existed for her. Her heart was beating in heavy thumps as they walked into the classroom.
He laid down her bookbag and his carefully on a desk, and Hermione noticed the warding in the classroom. The walls gleamed with a blue shimmer of a potent protective ward.
"Why—" Her voice caught, and she cleared her throat. "Why the wards?"
"For practice today." He said quietly, tugging her to the center of the room and turning to face her. He released her hand and tugged on one of her curls gently. "Are you still mad at me?"
"I don't know." She answered honestly. Everything seemed so confusing, and she wasn't sure what was right anymore.
"I don't want you to be mad at me." He said softly, staring into her eyes.
"Will you tell me what you did after leaving me in Hogsmeade?"
His hand reached for her hip, and the action felt controlling and oddly reassuring at the same time. Warmth spread low in her belly as she stared up at him, and she squeezed her thighs together in reaction.
"I'll tell you what… I'll answer any two questions you have….if you win a duel against me." He squeezed her hip. "But if you lose, you have to agree to two things for me."
Hermione tensed. "What two things?"
"To not be mad at me." He said softly. "And to come to a party we're going to have in the Slytherin dorm this weekend. You can bring your friends if you want."
"You'd answer any two questions? No lies?"
He gave her a small smile. "The absolute truth for two questions."
She could ask him about Voldemort. She could ask him about his childhood. She could ask him one of the million things she wanted to know about him. Her hand slipped into her pocket, pulling out her wand. "What are the rules?"
"First to fall or get disarmed loses. No restrictions on spells."
Now she understood the reason for the wards on the walls of the classroom so they wouldn't damage the room or accidentally blow out a wall during their duel. Harry had planned this.
She knew she wasn't as good a duelist as Harry. But perhaps he would underestimate her. "You take a handicap. No layered spells." Those were too powerful to be in his arsenal and would help her hit harder against his blocks.
Harry stared down at her consideringly, tilting his head. "Promise you'll stop being mad at me and you'll go to the party if you lose."
"If you don't use layering spells and I lose the duel — I promise to stop being mad at you, and I'll go to your party." She probably would have anyway if he'd asked her. Keeping her distance from him just wasn't a viable strategy.
Harry nodded, releasing her. "I won't use layering spells."
They each retreated to the ends of the classroom and faced each other. There was a feeling of anticipation in the room, and despite herself, excitement raced through her. Hermione focused completely on Harry.
And he watched her back with equal intensity. "Ready?"
She nodded. Even if she lost, she was going to show him she wasn't to be dismissed as a threat.
The moment his hand twitched, Hermione was already moving, "Protego!"
His disarming spell slammed into her shield, causing it to ripple, and making her shoes skid back as the power of the spell forced her back. Her eyes widened; he'd never hit that hard in class.
"Don't get comfortable behind that shield," Harry warned, stepping close to her.
"I won't!" Hermione shifted, slashing her wand rapidly through the air. The shield charm disappeared as tentacles of her magic grabbed the chairs next to Harry. Both chairs jerked upright on their back legs, Hermione's magic animating them, and the front legs shot forward like fists, jabbing toward Harry.
Harry's wand flicked, "Depulso!" The push spell shoved the animated chairs away and slammed them into the room's warding, causing them to break into pieces. Then he turned barely a second later to cast a knockout jinx, "Stupefy!"
Hermione ducked so fast her curls flew in the air, and the spell sped past her in a violent swoosh of magic.
Instinct took over as she shot several chain spells at him. "Incarcerous! Impedimata! Confundo!"
Rather than ducking, Harry called up his shield, and the spells slammed into his magic one after another. Hermione was gratified to see his foot slide back.
Hermione didn't know what expression she expected from Harry, but it was not the slow smile and the gleam of hunger in his eyes. "Good girl." He murmured.
She froze for a second at that, and before she could recover, he lunged forward his wand slicing through the air. "Expelliarmus!"
Hermione waved her wand frantically, casting a shield charm off balance. The spell was just as powerful as the first time, as it tried to pierce her shield. She stumbled, almost falling, but managed to catch herself on a desk.
"Don't lose your focus." Harry reprimanded.
"I'm not!" She gritted, facing him with her wand out.
He held out his hand, curling two fingers back. "Then c'mon. Hit me again, Hermione."
She tried, she really tried.
She even managed to make the floor roll in a wave that he jumped to avoid. Spell after spell, she fought him, sweating and breathing hard as she ducked his return spells. He favored his disarming spell, and she wasn't surprised — it hit like a battering ram.
She faced him with sweat dripping down her spine and her curls in a disarray. Her heart pounded, and she could barely catch her breath waiting for his next hit.
Harry was still for just a moment, observing her before he started to move so fast she could barely follow. "Expelliarmus!"
The disarming spell arrowed to her left, and she ducked to the right.
"Flipendo!"His wand work was liquid fast as the knockback jinx came barreling to the right, exactly where she was moving.
It was like getting shoved backward hard, and her feet lost contact with the floor. But Harry was already casting again," Arresto momentum!"
Then Harry was there, catching her before she could hit the floor. It was only as he held her that she realized she was trembling from the adrenaline of fighting him. His hand lifted gentle as a whisper and cupped her jaw. "You fought so well."
Hermione swallowed, the loss burning more than she thought it would. She'd tried so hard. "I lost."
"You lost." He confirmed his thumb brushing along her cheekbone. "And you promised me two things."
Hermione nodded, squeezing her eyes shut so she could avoid the look in his eyes. There was too much yearning there for her mind to handle. "Okay." She whispered.
"Look at me."
The order came, and she didn't want to, but still she obeyed, looking into his green eyes. The dark, endless green held her captive.
"First," he said quietly. " You promised to stop being mad at me."
"I was never mad at you, not really." She licked her lips, staring up at him. "I was hurt, Harry. I can't bear the thought that it was you who hurt that Muggle family."
His hold tightened on her, and she felt the low hum of his magic vibrating. His hand moved from her cheek to the back of her neck, threading through her curls, and she shivered at the sensation. "Do you want to hurt me back?"
But our source says that Voldemort frequently takes him away for periods of time, and it's not known fully what happens to him during those visits.
Hermione's mouth was dry as she stared up at him. Harry's eyes were almost black; the color leached out. Intensity and vulnerability radiated from him as he made the offer. What had Voldemort done to him? "What?"
His fingers tightened just slightly on the nape of her neck. "If you're hurt, I'll take some of it from you."
"I don't want to hurt you, Harry. I never would." Never. Her stomach rebelled even at the thought of it.
"You have though." The darkness of his eyes reflected hurt back at her. "When you run to avoid me. When you ignore me, when you promised to be my friend, then turned your back on me."
Hermione's throat tightened painfully. She hadn't meant to hurt him with her actions, but at the same time, he was refusing to tell her anything. Did he want just blind loyalty?
When she didn't answer, Harry exhaled softly, "Let's get you on your feet."
He pulled her to her feet, and she almost stumbled, but he caught her, steadying her. His eyes had lightened again to their normal dark green, his vulnerability from a moment ago hidden in their depths. "Are you okay?"
No, she was not okay. "Yes."
He nodded. The expression on his face was calm, almost gentle—a complete contrast to the intensity with which he'd offered to let her hurt him in return.
"You promised me something else too, Hermione." He reminded her. "You promised to come to the party with me."
She had, and she would. "I will." She answered firmly. What other answer could she give?
He nodded slowly at her, satisfaction flaring in the dark green depths of his eyes. "Good."
OOOooooOOOOoooOOOO
Hermione's stomach twisted in knots as she stared blindly at the blue canopy of her bed, sprawled out carelessly with a book close to falling by her feet. Did what Harry said mean he admitted to beating the Muggle family?
Of course, that's what it meant, she argued with herself.
He'd never admitted it, though. He'd wanted her to hurt him because she said she was hurt.
And that's bloody concerning.
Hermione had no idea what kind of experiences would create a response like that in someone. What had Voldemort done to him? He must have survived so much pain. Imagining scenarios made the knots in her stomach tighter.
Harry was something completely unexpected and yet — at the same time— precisely what she'd always thought.
There had always been some kind of awareness between her and Harry, unacknowledged for years but felt by them both. Hermione had known, from the very first, that she should stay away from him. Even when he was younger, he'd looked like trouble.
When she'd first arrived at Hogwarts, she'd been so determined to be the best, most perfect student she could be. The first day, she'd been up for hours trying to tame her hair and make sure her uniform was perfect.
Every moment of that first day was burned into her memory, and not just because of her excitement. It was the first time she'd ever seen Harry. He'd been standing quietly outside the great doors of Hogwarts after all the students had disembarked from a slightly scary boat ride through the Black Lake.
Something about him had drawn her gaze like a magnet, and there was a buzzing beneath her skin of awareness. His black hair had been wild, and his green eyes so fierce-looking beneath the scar on his forehead. They were all magical, but Harry had been magic. He was a dagger amongst butter knives. Even with the antics of the sorting hat and the new magic all around her, it had been difficult to look away from him.
But Harry had looked at her, too, she remembered. Searching glances over the years as that intangible awareness persisted between them despite her best efforts. Then, in fifth year, the most infamous incident occurred between them.
Umbridge had come to Hogwarts in her fifth year, and it had been very difficult. The closest Hermione had ever come to telling her parents about what was happening in the wizarding world had been in fifth year. Umbridge had been pure evil wrapped in a pink bow. She'd hurt anyone who got in her way or spoke up against her — no matter their age. Tiny first years or angry seventh years were punished equally harshly. Even the professors had stepped lightly around Umbridge.
Dumbledore had been difficult to get a hold of during this time, and Hermione had cried herself to sleep, praying he'd figure out a way to get rid of Umbridge. But even knowing the sadistic nature of Umbridge's punishments, Hermione hadn't been able to stop herself from arguing with Umbridge.
She had been sentenced to detention to write lines with a special type of quill. A blood quill that cut into your hand for ink as you wrote your lines. She'd held back her tears all through detention as the blood quill cut over and over again into her hand as she wrote her lines.
I must not tell lies.
Hermione had tried to make it back to her dorm without breaking down into tears in the corridor, but they had slipped down her cheeks anyway. She had lowered her head and practically run down the corridor to her rooms when a firm hand had clamped on the back of her neck, pulling her to a stop like she was an unruly puppy.
"What's wrong with you? Why are you crying?" She'd looked up to see Harry Potter. His face was twisted into an expression of such intense rage that it made her tremble, but she marshaled the tiny bit of courage she had left.
"You know what happened," Hermione had whispered fiercely, staring up at him. He was on Umbridge's side — one of her little pets on the Inquisitorial squad.
Harry's hand had tightened, and she tilted up her chin defiantly. Would he send her back to detention again? She didn't know if she could handle another detention with the blood quill.
Harry ground his teeth as he stared down at her. "I'll take care of it." He practically growled at her.
By now, students were watching and whispering. Snape's perpetual batlike presence was hovering in the shadow of the east stairwell.
"What?" She had been so confused. What would he take care of?
Then Umbridge had disappeared the next day, to everyone's relief. She had been found after the centaurs abandoned her body in the dark forest. No one knew why Umbridge had gone into the dark forest or how exactly the centaurs had gotten hold of her. The details of her death were rumored to be so gruesome that an Auror on the team that found her had fainted.
There was no proof that Harry had anything to do with Umbridge's death. But rumors of the interaction between Harry and Hermione in the corridor and then Umbridge's subsequent disappearance had become inextricably intertwined.
Harry hadn't said anything to her after Umbridge disappeared. They'd continued as they had for years prior—aware of each other but not speaking.
It probably would have stayed like that between them until graduation if she hadn't joined the Order. And now she was going to a party with him after he'd likely beaten some muggles simply for trespassing onto wizarding territory.
Hermione heard the door to the room open and close, but didn't move, still staring blindly up at the blue canopy.
"You didn't attend our revision session," Padma said as she walked into the room, followed by Luna.
"I have no idea what I'm doing anymore, Padma," Hermione murmured, completely ignoring what she said.
Padma frowned and went to sit next to Hermione on her bed. Hermione didn't look at her. "What happened?"
"I asked Harry about the Muggle attack."
"Did he confess?" Padma asked cautiously.
Hermione finally looked over at her and laughed humorlessly. "No, he said he'd answer if I won a duel against him—"
"Oh, Hermione, you know he's got better marks—"
"I know, but I thought just maybe luck would be on my side." Hermione shook her head. "He's stronger than he's ever shown when dueling in class."
"How strong?" Padma asked.
"Remember in third year when we saw Dumbledore arguing with the Minister and his magic just seemed to roll out of him like a wave?"
Padma nodded a little fearfully. "It pushed us against the wall even though he wasn't even looking in our direction. Harry's magic felt like that?"
"Yes."
Luna made a slight humming sound. "His aura has always been very unique…"
Unique. That was one for Harry. Dangerous was another. Hermione knew he was good, but that level of skill was something else entirely. He had seemed so steady and watchful during the duel while she had been fighting desperately.
"So you said he'd answer your questions if you won… what happened if you lost?' Padma asked cautiously.
"He wanted me not to be angry with him…. And to go to a party with him." Hermione confessed. She didn't want to tell them Harry had offered to let her hurt him in return. She didn't think that was quite what Luna had in mind when she'd hypothesized Harry was motivated by her.
"Where is this party at? I haven't heard about a party," Padma said immediately.
"It's a Slytherin Party in their common room."
"Don't go. That sounds risky, Hermione." Padma shook her head.
"I have to go. You know I do— and not just because of some bet — but because of everything." Hermione said, referencing her work for the order.
"Then I'll go with you," Luna said, sitting on the bed near Hermione's feet. "You won't be alone."
"Me, too." Padma volunteered immediately. "We're not sending you into the snake's den alone!"
Luna frowned. "Snakes aren't bad creatures. They just grew up in a different world than us — a darker world. For someone used to darkness, the light can be frightening."
Hermione sat up and looked at Luna. Luna frequently said strange things, but there was always a peculiar wisdom to her. "Do you think he wants to step into the light?"
Luna's blue eyes were deep blue pools as she stared back at Hermione. She gave a small shrug. "I think he wants your light."
Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and flopped back on the bed. Her heart lurched unpleasantly. She was a terrible person because she wanted his darkness. "I'm so confused." She whispered to them. "The way he looks at me…"
"How does he look at you?" Padma pressed.
"Like he wants me to choose him." That yearning gaze pulled at her so intensely.
"You can't," Padma said compassionately, seeing her struggle.
Hermione swallowed, the truth of Padma's words settling heavily in her stomach. "I know. I know what he's probably done. And now I really know what he's capable of."
"But you don't feel that way," Luna said softly.
Hermione flinched. No, she didn't feel that way. Her heart wanted him and all his darkness and mystery. She wanted to know everything about him. She wanted to choose him.
"Whatever you feel for him, you have to remember what he's capable of— and how he's more dangerous than we realized if he's that powerful," Padma warned.
"It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter what I think or feel. What matters is getting him away from Voldemort." Hermione said determinedly.
"And getting him to join the order?" Padma asked slowly.
Hermione met her gaze and said nothing.
Padma sighed and dropped her head into her hand. "This is more complicated than I thought it would be."
"Me too," Hermione admitted. She hadn't had any expectations of what would happen between her and Harry when Dumbledore had asked her to try to bring Harry to their side, but this definitely hadn't been it. "Regardless, I have to go to the party."
"Then we're still going with you — for back up," Padma said firmly, and Luna nodded.
"I still don't think he would hurt you — or us," Luna said.
Hermione remembered Harry catching her before she could hit the floor and cradling her in his arms so tenderly. "I don't think he wants to hurt me, but that doesn't mean he won't."
Padma nodded grimly. "We just have to be careful."
"'Careful' and 'Slytherin party' don't belong in the same sentence. " Hermione said wryly.
Padma let out a short laugh. "We're smart, we can make it work."
Hermione hesitated, watching Padma for a second. "What about Theo?"
"What about him? He's cute. I like him. But it's not like whatever is between you and Harry."
Luna nodded a little dreamily. "The air vibrates when you two are together sometimes. Like two instruments playing the same note."
Hermione opened her mouth to respond when there was a rapid fluttering sound in the room, and all three girls looked toward the window, expecting to see a bird. Instead, it was a piece of paper fluttering against the window as if it were trying to get in.
They all got up slowly and pulled out their wands. Hermione led the way and reached out to open the window. The paper zipped inside and fluttered in front of her for a long second before the creases smoothed out, and it fell to the floor.
Hermione picked it up.
Hermione,
I'll pick you up at seven on Saturday from the Ravenclaw rooms. And of course, anyone who wants to come with you.
Harry
Hermione squared her shoulders, dread and excitement twisting inside her. She looked at Padma and Luna. "We're going to a party Saturday."
OOOoooOOOOoooOOOO
When Hermione stepped out of the Ravenclaw common room at seven sharp with Luna and Padma, the Slytherins were waiting. Harry, Theo, and Draco stood confidently across the way, with Harry in the center and Draco and Theo on either side of him.
The corner of Harry's mouth tilted up in a half-smile when his eyes met Hermione's. For no reason at all, Hermione could feel herself blushing.
The boys stepped forward with murmured greetings. Luna smiled cheerfully at Draco, taking his hand to practically start skipping along to the dungeon. Padma was more reserved, ignoring Theo's outstretched hand to walk past him. He followed a step behind her with a charming smile as he began to flirt with her.
Left behind, Hermione stared at Harry, heat slowly spreading through her. Harry's wavy black hair was brushed to the side, neater than she'd ever seen it, and the style completely obscured his scar. He wore a dark green shirt that matched his eyes and black trousers. He looked scrumptious.
Harry held out his arm to her, and her heart leapt. His expression was soft, and the gesture felt both tender and courtly. He didn't press her but stood still, waiting for her to make a decision. After a long moment, Hermione took a deep breath and slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow.
Harry laid his hand over hers firmly as if to make sure she didn't try to pull away. He led her down the corridor much more slowly than the other two couples who had already disappeared down the first staircase as they walked toward the dungeons.
She had felt so conflicted about this date. And a little scared, although she didn't want to admit it to herself.
What should she do if she ran into any blood prejudice that Slytherins were notorious for? She'd stayed away from Slytherin's mostly, but she knew other Muggleborns had been called names by them. The thought of being called a mudblood in front of Harry should have tied knots in her stomach. What if he didn't care?
And then the darker thought that she kept trying to ignore: She was going on a date with Harry while suspecting (knowing) he had likely beaten Muggles for crossing into Hogsmeade.
She should be filled with self-disgust and worry.
The problem was that she didn't feel any of that. Being near Harry and feeling his palm pressing down on her hand made her feel safe. The warmth of his body close to hers made her feel protected. Even though it didn't make any sense, she couldn't quite justify the feelings to herself.
She knew there was another side to him she hadn't yet seen— one that might be dangerous to her.
"I half expected you to keep me waiting," Harry murmured to her as they walked.
"I like being punctual," Hermione responded, even though she'd been scrambling at the last minute for the right thing to wear.
Harry gave her a slow appraisal from her toes to the top of her head. "You look beautiful as always."
Hermione tugged nervously at her dark blue dress. "Thank you." She glanced over at him. "You look handsome too." She paused and finished softly. "As you always do."
Harry's green eyes darkened, "Careful, Hermione. Flattery like that might go straight to my head."
Hermione could feel her cheeks burning from the look in his eyes. She thought Luna may have been right about Harry being motivated by her, but not in the way they wanted. Not in the way that made it easy for her to stop him from beating Muggles. If it was him, a part of her still resisted the obvious.
A stupid part.
Hermione remembered how dark his eyes had been when he'd offered to let her hurt him in return for her hurt. How was she supposed to use that to her advantage? No part of her wanted anything to do with hurting him.
When she didn't respond to him, Harry cocked his head, looking down at her. "What's wrong?"
Hermione avoided his gaze as they walked. "Nothing."
As they descended lower and lower, the air grew noticeably cooler, and Hermione shivered. Harry shifted his arm and cradled her close. "When we get to the dungeons, I'll get you a jacket from my room."
"Oh, it's okay—"
Harry pressed his wand against her upper arm. She should have jerked away and brought up her own wand in defense. He was powerful and dangerous, although she persisted in trying to ignore that. But her self-preservation must be lacking because she just stared up at him unflinching as he hit her with a warming spell. "Then a warming spell," Harry said.
"Very presumptuous." She muttered, turning away to resume walking. Her insides were shaky because she hadn't reacted to his threat. A part of her refused to see him as a threat even though she knew he was.
"Just being friendly." Harry corrected, catching up and walking beside her, he offered her his arm again, and she took it without a word.
Laughter echoed upward as they descended one last corridor, the ground vibrating with the low thump of music under their feet.
Harry looked at her before they entered, "You don't have to drink or participate in any games you don't want to — remember that."
Hermione swallowed. What kind of games were they going to play?
Harry covered her ears playfully as he said the password for the Slytherin dungeon. The wall rippled like a snake's scales as it slid away, revealing the emerald-lit entrance.
"Ready?"
Her muscles tightened in apprehension. She hoped she wasn't making a terrible mistake.
"Yes."
OOOooooOOOOoooOOOO
Her first thought stepping into the dungeons was that she was glad she wasn't sorted into Slytherin. Their common room was large and ornate with golden lamps burning with a greenish fire. Enormous windows stretched from ceiling to floor, bracketing the semicircular room. The windows seemed like portals to another universe, offering a glimpse underneath the Black Lake. Hermione saw something large and silvery swim by.
She would have expected the windows to be black, but instead, an unearthly greenish light emanated from them, providing ambient light that filtered through to the Slytherin common room.
Silver and green decorated all the chairs, but the colors were washed out and pale under the greenish light from the torches and windows. The students, too, looked darker and more sinister under the lighting as they turned almost as one to face the door as she and Harry stepped through.
The conversations had ceased, and the room vibrated with the music pulsing from somewhere unseen. Harry held up her hand as if presenting her to the onlooking students. Some whistles broke out, and claps broke out before everyone went slowly back to their conversations.
The strangeness of the reaction left Hermione feeling off balance. "What was that?" Hermione leaned over to ask, her voice louder to be heard over the music.
Harry just smiled at her and shrugged. "Just letting them know you're okay."
The first person they ran into was Pansy Parkinson, a Slytherin girl with straight short black hair and dark eyes. Hermione had had classes with her before. Her gaze moved over Hermione assessingly. "So you finally got her, then."
"Pansy." Harry had a warning tone.
She gave Harry a teasing smile but didn't say anything more on the topic, making Hermione wonder what she exactly meant. Had Harry talked to Pansy about her?
Pansy looked to her side and waved her hand impatiently while a large boy made his way slowly through the crowd, holding two drinks.
"Are you two thirsty? Greg got you drinks." Pansy said as the boy arrived.
Gregory Goyle was broad-shouldered with long arms and a face that looked too small for his head. He handed a drink to Harry and one to Hermione very cautiously, as if it were one of the most important things he had to do that night.
"Thank you." Hermione accepted a cup while Harry did the same at her side.
Pansy leaned close to Harry's ear, saying loud enough to be heard over the music. "Let me know if you need me to do anything."
Hermione glanced at them curiously, not sure if she was meant to overhear that remark, because then Pansy pulled back and addressed them both. "I'm going to dance! I'll see you two around." She grabbed Greg's hand and pulled him towards a clear spot in the area where students were swaying together.
As Hermione was about to take her first sip of the punch, Harry leaned to her, "Be careful drinking that. The punch is always spiked."
It was indeed. Hermione felt a rush of warmth when she drank it like she was drinking a hot toddy instead. In the cool dimness of the dungeon, that warmth was very welcome.
Hermione spotted Luna near the large windows, her face pressed against the glass while she spoke to Draco, who stood very close to her, seeming to point out things only the two of them could see. Padma stood near a group of Slytherins laughing and drinking, but looked uncomfortable. Theo was at her side.
Harry's arm wrapped around her waist as she took another drink. "It's going to hit you hard if you drink that too fast."
"I'm fine." She didn't feel like the punch was affecting her — she just felt warm. Hermione turned and faced Harry, leaning up slightly. "What did Pansy mean when she said you'd finally got her?"
He smiled teasingly at her, "Can you figure it out?"
"You're absolutely terrible at answering questions."
Harry laughed, and Hermione was struck by how relaxed he looked. More so than she'd ever seen him. He was comfortable here in the dim, cool green of the Slytherin dorms — it was his territory.
They just grew up in a different world than us — a darker world. For someone used to darkness, the light can be frightening. Luna's voice echoed in her head.
Hermione had never really questioned the division of the houses, but what must it have done to them as eleven-year-olds to be sent to a dark dungeon and then mostly ostracized by the other houses? Even she had thought of Slytherins as trouble. How much of their being with Voldemort was choice versus grooming?
As she met the smiling faces, seeing them in their own element, the thought dug deeper and deeper. Harry, Theo, and Draco eventually gravitated back together. Luna looked like she was having a brilliant time, while Pansy seemed to have mellowed a bit. Hermione hoped Theo had warned Padma appropriately about the punch.
The floor vibrated beneath their feet as they moved through the crowd of students. Hermione started to feel very warm despite the dungeon's coolness. Every Slytherin they spoke to treated them with a strange deference that puzzled her.
Contrary to her fears, not one person made any insinuations about her blood status or called her a mudblood. They looked at Harry by her side and seemed to take that as a signal that she should be treated with utmost politeness.
Still, she wouldn't want to be in the dungeons on her own.
OOOooooOOOOoooOOOO
When the chanting started to play a truth or dare game, Harry leaned toward her and whispered that they didn't have to join. Hermione was already feeling the effects of the laced punch and honestly didn't want to join, but all eyes seemed to be on them, and Hermione felt the social pressure to agree. Luna looked excited by the idea of a game, while Padma looked cautious but intrigued to play.
The first one to spin the bottle was a triumphant Theo, who looked thrilled that Hermione and Harry had decided to play. When the girl the bottle landed on chose a dare, Theo immediately dared her to kiss someone in the circle. That dare started a trend of dares to kiss someone, and Hermione grew more and more anxious as the bottle spun.
She didn't want to kiss anyone, and she didn't want anyone kissing her. Harry had been shooting speculative glances her way, and she avoided his gaze.
The bottle finally landed on Hermione when a Slytherin by the name of Daphne Greengrass spun it. Daphne was very pretty, with white blonde hair that rivaled Draco's and crystal blue eyes. She looked like she had won a prize when the bottle finally stopped pointing at Hermione. The blonde gave her a toothy grin, ignoring Harry's stare.
"Truth or dare, Granger." Daphne Greengrass asked.
Considering the dares had almost always defaulted into kissing someone, Hermione opted for the truth. Even though that was just as dangerous. The bottle laced with veritaserum was passed to her, and she took a short swig.
Daphne held up her hands as everyone leaned forward in anticipation. "Wait for it to hit." After a few seconds, she lowered her hands and stared at Hermione interestedly. "Who do you think is the fittest guy in school?"
Murmurs started in the group as everyone looked at her a little apprehensively. Even Harry looked upset with the question.
She met his eyes for a fraught moment, and heat rushed up her face. The veritaserum squeezed her insides, forcing out the truth. She let out his name on a gasp, "Harry." She sucked in a breath, continuing. "I think Harry is the most handsome in school."
Draco Malfoy, who had already started preening, stopped with his mouth open. "Harry?" He looked over at Harry. "Not that you're ugly, mate, but c'mon." He flipped his straight, white blond hair back. "She's choosing you over this." He gestured to himself.
"Oh no, I think Malfoy is going to have an identity crisis," Theo whispered in a loud voice while everyone else in the circle cracked up. "Who is he if not the pretty one?"
"I'm not." Draco insisted. "I'm questioning her perception of reality."
More laughter echoed through the circle, although Hermione could barely hear it, her eyes caught by Harry's gaze. The intensity of his gaze and the warmth from the punch made her feel slightly dizzy.
Luna had a bright smile on her face as she watched the byplay. "Harry has made quite an impression on Hermione."
"That's a way of saying it." Padma scoffed softly under her breath.
Unlike the people surrounding them, Harry wasn't amused or teasing. Instead, he stared at her with a dark green possessive gaze. Hermione shivered at the look and turned away.
"You're next to spin, Hermione!" Daphne said brightly.
Everyone was still whispering about Hermione's answer as she reached for the bottle, spinning it. Hermione heaved a sigh of relief when it landed on Luna. She was a little worried about stepping on Slytherin's toes.
Hermione smiled at Luna, "Truth or dare?"
"The truth, of course." Luna smiled back at her.
Having an inkling suspicion of what Luna might say, Hermione waited until she'd drunk from the bottle laced with Veritaserum before asking, "Who do you think is the fittest in the school?"
Everyone broke out in laughter or groans. Some cried that you couldn't repeat the same question. But Luna just smiled and turned to wink at Draco. "I think Draco is the fittest."
"See!" Draco responded, vindicated, but there was the faintest trace of red on his cheekbones, and he kept glancing back at Luna.
It was interesting Hermione hadn't thought there was anything between them, but perhaps…
The group's attention shifted as Draco continued to joke about being the handsomest, but Hermione still felt Harry's gaze on her.
When she glanced at him, he leaned forward to be heard over the music and laughter. "I think you're the prettiest in this school or anywhere else for that matter."
Her breathing hitched, and a slow, devastating smile curled his lips.
Awareness came back slowly as Hermione stretched against cool sheets, her face buried against a fluffy pillow.
Her mind drifted pleasantly for a moment, until she sat up abruptly with panicked indrawn breath. There were no windows in the room, but even in the darkness, she could see the Slytherin silver and green decorating the room.
How had she gone from the party to this room? She remembered mingling with the Slytherins as they treated Harry and her with an odd deference.
She remembered playing truth or dare.
She remembered the look on Harry's face when she'd said she thought he was the fittest boy in the school.
But somehow, between all of that, she'd ended up in a room covered in shades of darkness. Hermione looked around uneasily, and in the darkest corner of the room gleamed green eyes- almost animal-like in the dark.
She made a small panicked sound, pulling back abruptly, her hands spread wide, trying to find her wand.
Harry leaned forward out of the darkness. "It's okay, it's just me."
"What happened? How did I get here?"
"You fell asleep on my shoulder. So I brought you here to sleep it off for a bit. I told you punch sneaks up on you if you're not used to it."
"What time is it?"
"Close to four in the morning."
Hermione gasped. She'd never stayed out that late, even for the weekend; it was past curfew for seventh years. Her fingers dug into the cool sheets beneath her. "Four? I should have gone back ages ago. Did Padma and Luna leave already?"
"They were in barely better shape than you, although they were walking. Draco and Theo took them back to Ravenclaw Tower before curfew."
"You should have woken me up to go too."
Harry shook his head firmly. "You really weren't in any condition to walk, and I figured you wouldn't want me carrying you through the castle. Although I can if you want."
Definitely not. Just the thought of showing up to her dorm with Harry carrying her made her tense. But either way, she was going to stir up gossip coming back this late.
Hermione looked around what was obviously a boys' dorm. "You brought me to your room?!"
Where was the — oh, that was right, Snape was the Head of Slytherin House. Hermione grimaced. She could just imagine he did as poor a job being the Head of House as he did teaching.
"It was either that or let you sleep out in the open in the common room, I figured you prefer privacy."
Hermione frowned, looking at the other empty beds. "Where are your roommates?"
Harry grinned. "Sleeping out in the common room."
"Oh, no, they aren't angry, are they?"
He shook his head. "Draco has forgiven you for having the poor taste to choose me over him, and Theo was excited to be able to annoy Draco further."
Hermione twisted, bringing her legs off the bed to stand up. She felt fine, but when she stood, she stumbled forward straight into Harry's arms.
"Careful." He brushed her curls back from her face. "I should have paid more attention to how much you drank."
"That's my responsibility." She muttered.
"I like looking after you." Harry wrapped a supporting arm around her waist. "And now I know your limits better."
"You don't have to walk me back. I wouldn't want you to get in trouble, too."
"Of course I'm going to walk you back, and don't worry, we won't get caught."
"But Harry—"
"Trust me."
Hermione paused a fraught second before nodding. It was strange, but she really did trust him — at least in some things. She didn't know how he was going to make sure they weren't caught by Mr. Filch — the caretaker who wandered the halls after curfew, hoping to catch students, but Hermione knew he would.
Harry squeezed her waist gently. "C'mon."
He grabbed her wand off a nearby table, handing it to her, and Hermione breathed a sigh of relief and let him lead her to the door, her legs slightly shaky. She kept one hand on his forearm for more balance when Harry opened the door; the green glow from the common room below spilled in as they made their way slowly up the stairs.
There were more bodies than she expected lying around the common room, passed out on chairs and couches, and some just sprawled out on the floor. One body sat up as soon as they entered the common room, and Hermione recognized Draco in the dimness.
He yawned, getting up to amble past them to his dorm room now that it was empty. "Night, Granger."
"Not getting Theo up?" Harry asked.
"Fuck no. Fuck him." Draco snarled sleepily.
Harry chuckled as they moved toward the exit.
Hermione frowned. "Does he really hate Theo?"
"Oh no. They're best mates."
She eyed Harry dubiously. They did not act like best mates.
Harry grinned at her, noticing her stare. "Trust me, that's just how they are."
They made their way slowly back to the Ravenclaw Tower, and Hermione almost thought Harry was right — they were going to make it without Filch finding them, when an imperious meow announced Mrs. Norris, Filch's cat.
"Oh dear," Hermione muttered, staring down into the cheerful gaze of the scrawny dust colored feline.
Mrs. Norris meowed loudly again as if calling Filch.
"Don't worry." Harry stuck his hand into his pocket, pulling out a silvery, shimmering cloak.
Hermione was about to ask him what it was for when he threw it over them both. The cloak should have obscured their eyesight, but it became almost translucent as she stared out from under it.
"Shhh, don't talk and don't move," Harry whispered, tightening his arm around her waist to pull her flush against his body. Heat raced up her spine.
"Where are they, Mrs. Norris? Where are those little rule breakers who are going to get detention, oh yes, there are my precious." Filch muttered to himself, hurrying toward them.
Hermione sucked in a quick, panicked breath, and Harry put his hand over her mouth. She was completely trapped in his embrace.
Filch's lantern swung wildly as he looked down the corridor. "I can hear you breathing, yes, I can!" He looked down at Mrs. Norris. "Where did they go, m'dear?"
Mrs. Norris slunk closer to them and meowed loudly.
Hermione's heart slammed in her chest, but Harry's body remained still and relaxed behind her. She could feel the steady thump of his heartbeat from how closely they were pressed together. His steady breathing brushed against the curls near her ear.
Filch shuffled a step closer to Mrs. Norris — and therefore a step closer to them and Hermione squeezed her eyes shut.
Mrs. Norris made another small mew, then turned and trotted down the corridor away from them.
Filch scrambled after her. "Where are they, my clever girl. Let's get them! Oh, how I wish we still had the old punishments…." His voice faded along with his light as he disappeared down the corridor following his cat.
Harry held her for another second before his hand slid gently away from her mouth. He didn't release her waist, but his grip gentled. The danger of being caught had passed.
Hermione inhaled shakily. "An invisibility cloak?"
"Mhhm." He answered, beginning to walk her again in the direction of Ravenclaw Tower.
Invisibility cloaks weren't that common. Especially one that could withstand such scrutiny. Hermione had seen one before, and it looked more like a camouflaged cloak than an invisibility cloak. There had been a clear distortion where the cloak wearer had been, although it would have been easy to miss from a distance unless you were looking for it. Neither of which was the case tonight when Filch had been less than a foot away looking for them.
Harry had quite a powerful invisibility cloak.
Hermione turned to him when they reached the entrance to the Ravenclaw common room. "Thank you for walking me — and making sure we didn't get caught."
Harry gave a slow smile. "Anytime."
Hermione couldn't smile back; a part of her was already dreading the fact that she needed to tell Dumbledore about Harry's invisibility cloak. It felt like a betrayal, even though that's how this whole connection between her and Harry had started.
Harry's smile faded as the silence stretched, and finally he said softly. "Good night, Hermione. Sweet dreams."
"Good night." She finally whispered before turning away to answer the riddle to get into her dorms.
Later, as she lay in bed thinking about Harry, she wondered how she'd gone from thinking of how she was going to turn him to the side of the Order to thinking of how she was going to protect him.
And how frightening it was that she didn't want to tell Dumbledore anything.