Chapter 6
Hermione walked into the tutoring classroom a little uncomfortable in her own skin. With her decision to choose Harry, she'd gone against some beliefs she thought were set in stone. She questioned herself, wondering if she was making the right decision.
She honestly didn't know. Her fearful thoughts went straight against the feelings of her heart. And both revolved around him.
Harry watched her as she entered, inspecting her from head to toe. He stood in the center of the classroom with his arms relaxed at his sides. He'd taken off his school robes and wore dark trousers and a grey shirt that made his green eyes seem more electric. When he saw her, he tensed up slightly, making just a minute gesture as if he wanted to approach, but then stood still waiting for her to come to him.
Hermione didn't look away from his intense gaze.
"I half thought you would cancel on me again." He said quietly.
"No." She said, moving to the desk to put down her bag next to his before turning and moving closer to him. "I want to learn how to protect myself from legilimency."
Harry nodded, his jaw tight. "I'm…" He trailed off before starting again. "I think you'll learn quickly — you always do, but it might hurt — and I have to come into your mind to show you."
Hermione clenched her hands; her fingers were ice cold. She'd read that most learned Occlumency with the help of a legilimens coming into their mind, but it still scared her hearing it coming from Harry — and she hadn't read that it would hurt. "Why does it hurt?"
Harry stepped closer to her, his eyes shadowed. "I'm going to take it as easy as I know how — and I won't look at anything in your mind that I'm not supposed to."
Hermione frowned. "Okay…" From the book, she read purebloods taught little children Occlumency — so it couldn't be that painful, could it?
Her agreement made Harry tense further, and she noticed he'd pulled out his wand— he was so close to her that the tip almost pressed against her skin.
Hermione licked her lips nervously. "Why are you using a wand?" Harry had read her mind before without it.
"Think of it like wandless magic — I can perform legilimency without my wand, but it's weaker— I can only get surface thoughts, not go inside your mind like I need to. But with my wand and verbalizing the spell, I can show you what you need to know."
Hermione hesitated, shifting, and his wand followed her. "Fine. Let's do it."
Harry squeezed his eyes shut for just a moment before opening them and meeting her eyes. He seemed almost afraid of teaching her. "As you wish."
She sucked in a deep breath, bracing herself.
"Legilimens!"
The room seemed to spin, making Hermione dizzy, and she fell to the floor. Her hands pressed into the stone tiles as the floor rolled under her palms like an ocean wave. She swallowed several times, trying to shake off her nausea.
She heard a noise before her, and suddenly Harry's hands were on her, lifting her carefully to her feet.
"Steady," He cautioned, watching her closely.
What happened?" She asked, holding on to his arm tightly, still feeling dizzy.
"We're in your mind."
Hermione scoffed, squeezing her eyes closed for a moment before opening them. "We're not in my—" She trailed off as she saw a replica of herself and Harry standing in the middle of the room, staring into each other's eyes.
"It's a little disorienting at first, but this is your mind's construct of what is happening right now," Harry explained.
Hermione looked around the classroom — their bags were still on the desks pushed up against the wall. The same blackboard was against the east wall, and the setting sun shone through the west windows. If there hadn't been a replica of her and Harry standing a few feet away, she'd think he was playing with her.
"It looks so real." She whispered, squeezing his arm.
Harry gave her a half smile, his concerned eyes monitoring her closely. "It should be - it's your mind's memory of this place."
"And you're in my mind, seeing it." She said slowly, looking around the classroom. Something felt off in the room, though. She stepped closer to Harry's bag and spotted it — papers were sticking out, but instead of words on them, there were just blurry lines.
Harry followed her and pointed to the blurry lines she had noted. "See, you saw my papers, but you don't know what's written on them, which is why the lines are blurred in your mind."
Hermione reached out, shuffling the papers and scattering them on the floor, but they remained blurry.
"How curious." She murmured, looking toward the door of the classroom. She wondered what she would see on the other side of that door. Would other students be wandering about in the hallways of her memory? Or would they be frozen like their replicas in the middle of the classroom?
She glanced back at the replicas — they hadn't moved. In fact, as she moved closer to the other Hermione and the other Harry, she noticed they weren't even breathing, as if time were frozen for them.
She glanced back at Harry and found him watching her with a warm glint in his green eyes as if he was enjoying her curiosity. "So if this is my mind — what do I do?"
The enjoyment faded, and he looked at her with a serious expression, pointing to himself. "You have to kick the intruder out.
"How?"
"We're going to trigger your self-preservation instinct," Harry said, his shoulders tense.
"My self-preservation instinct, but how do we —" Hermione stopped when she saw Harry take out his wand.
She instinctively reached for hers and found her pockets empty. She held out her hand for him to wait. "Harry, I don't have my wand."
He tipped his head to one side, shaking it slowly. "We're in your mind — you control everything here - you don't need a wand, Hermione."
"I think I do if we're going to duel." Hermione insisted.
"We're not really dueling, though, are we?" Harry pointed back to where their replicas stood.
"Harry—"
"No. Get ready." He aimed his wand at her.
"Harry, don't!"
"Bombarda maxima!" Crackling red magic burst from the tip of his wand as Hermione screamed and ducked behind a desk.
The room twisted between one blink and the next, and all the desks were in between them like a wall separating her from Harry.
"That's really good!" He praised her from behind the desks where she couldn't see.
"I don't like this!" She yelled back, her heart pounding from adrenaline. She wasn't even sure she could move. She was walled in by the desks from floor to ceiling.
"You're already blocking — you just have to push it a little bit further to kick me out of your mind." Harry paused. "I'm going to start tearing down your desks, Hermione."
"Reducto!" The spell slammed into the desks, and pieces rained down on either side of the wall.
Hermione and the wall of desks shuddered in sync. She put her hands over her head, tensing to brace herself for an impact.
Harry barely paused a second before flinging another blasting curse at the wall of desks. "Confringo!" This curse caused some of the desks to explode in fiery blasts. "Push me out of your mind, Hermione!" He demanded.
Push him out. Push him out. This was her mind; she was in charge.
"Remember, don't tense up — passion and intent!" He said with a thread of teasing in his voice, even though he was attacking her.
Only Harry Potter would be flirting while her mind's classroom burned around her.
Passion and intent.
She could feel Harry on the other side of the fiery wall desks she'd built — like a thorn under her skin that didn't belong.
How could she push him out? Her head throbbed as she reordered the reality her mind presented topush.
Reality snapped around her, and abruptly she was standing in front of Harry again. She swayed off balance, and her nose was suddenly buried in Harry's chest as he held her gently. "Well done. You're amazing at this — just like I knew you'd be."
His hands threaded gently through her curls, urging her head back. He inspected her with an air of concern. "How much does it hurt?"
Her head throbbed in tune with his words, and she winced. "Pretty bad headache."
Harry frowned, concern tightening his expression. "I thought I was gentle enough."
Really, bombardas were gentle? What did he consider rough?
Harry pulled her to where their bags rested on the desks, picking up his and digging through it to pull out several vials. Hermione noticed that the pages that had been blurred in her mind were actually transfiguration notes.
"Here." Harry handed her a vial. "Pain relief."
Hermione drank it without thinking twice and handed him back the empty vial.
Harry observed her intently and noted when the tension eased in her expression. "How do you feel?"
"I'm good."
"No pain at all?" He pressed.
"No."
"Good, let's go again, we need to build the walls now."
"But—"
"Legilimens!" He said, determination glinting in his dark green eyes.
The vertigo wasn't quite as bad the second time around, and Hermione managed to keep her feet. "I wasn't ready." She grumbled at him in her mind's reality, pushing back her curls.
Harry smiled at her and stepped closer. "The battle doesn't wait for you to be ready."
Hermione eyed him warily, stepping back and holding out her hands. She didn't know how she'd moved the desks before, but it seemed like a prudent move to hold him off. She waited for Harry to cast at her, but instead, he just stepped closer to her again.
She stepped back as he stepped forward until her back bumped the edge of the desk. He reached around her, bracing a hand on either side of her, caging her in. "You're not feeling any pain?" He asked again.
Hermione shook her head, slowly staring up at him. A lock of his black hair had fallen forward, and his eyes glittered behind his glasses.
He took a slow breath as if bracing himself, "Can you push me out again, Hermione?"
"I— aren't we going to duel?"
"Do I have to attack you? Threaten you?" Harry's green eyes had darkened even more, blackness crawling across his gaze in her mind.
Her heart sped up, like wings of a caged bird in his threatening pseudo-embrace. "What— what are you doing, Harry?"
"We're building your shields." He leaned closer, his cheek brushing against hers. "I want you to close your eyes and picture the Hogwarts library."
Hermione shivered and obeyed, closing her eyes.
"Picture every aisle— the books — the subjects— the smell." He whispered.
The faint smell of vanilla and old parchment filled her nostrils.
"Now imagine one of those aisles between us." He directed.
Hermione frowned, opening her eyes— the classroom had disappeared, and instead they were deep in the stacks of the Hogwarts library, and Harry was leaning against her, caging her against one of the shelves.
"But you're with me…"
"Yes, but you can put a shield between you and me — just like you did with the desks — except this time I want you to use the library shelves." His voice lowered. "Imagine them moving like chess pieces — sliding into place exactly where you need them to protect you."
"Protect me from what?"
"From me."
The bottom dropped out of her stomach. "From you?"
He smiled down at her, but it was cold and sharp, sending a shiver down her spine. "Are you afraid of me, Hermione?"
She was afraid of the way he made her feel. She should be afraid of him — he was someone who scoffed at torture — who disappeared under mysterious circumstances when bad things were happening— but deep in her heart, she just couldn't believe he would hurt her.
As she stared at him, the world around them blurred — the books losing definition, and Harry looked around. "Concentrate, Hermione. Bring back the shelves." He urged.
It was all in her imagination, so why did she still feel the heat from his body? Why could she still smell him? She shivered, staring up at him, trying to focus on something other than her attraction to him.
"You have to move…" Harry trailed off, staring down at her, the heat in his eyes burning hotter. "You have no idea how much you're tempting me right now." He said huskily. "I didn't realize…"
"Realize what?" She was crazy because fear and desire were twisting inside her so tightly she couldn't even tell the difference. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and her skin felt sensitive as if aching for his touch.
Harry shook his head, his arms lowering to loop around her waist. "I know you can do it—" He leaned even further down, his lips grazing against her neck. "— my extraordinary witch." His voice hardened. "Now put that bookshelf between us."
His praise was like a snap of electricity through her. She loved it when he called her extraordinary. Suddenly, she was leaning against the aisle alone — facing a bookshelf without Harry in sight.
He gave a whoop from somewhere near her. "Amazing!"
She couldn't help but smile to herself at his praise.
"Now kick me out of your mind."
She could feel him circling just beyond the bookshelf in her mind, and she pushed again, the same way she had before. This time, she didn't stumble when she opened her eyes, and the shelves still stood clear in her thoughts.
Harry was grinning at her with exhilarated delight. "I knew you'd be like this, learning so quickly."
She couldn't help but grin back at him, feeling warm. She knew her cheeks were cherry red. Every compliment and praise was like a rush of warmth.
He reached out, capturing her chin and tilting her head up to catch her gaze. "How do you feel? Any pain?"
"No, none."
He didn't let go immediately, waiting and watching her for a moment as if to make sure. He nodded after a minute, turning away to sit down on the floor as he had before. He was in the waning sunlight, and he patted the area next to him, crossing his legs as he faced her.
Hermione sat down on the stone warmed by the setting sun's rays, facing him.
He began in a clinical tone. "What you did is the basics of keeping someone out of your mind. A big part of the protection is learning to keep those shelves at the front of your mind at all times— until it's so instinctual you don't even think about it." He paused. "To make sure you don't forget, I'm going to start testing you throughout the day — "
"But I never felt you—" Hermione began.
"Now that you're blocking, you'll feel when someone presses on you." He said, his dark green eyes gleaming, and suddenly she felt it — pressure on her head like a headband that was too tight.
"Stop!" She demanded, picturing her bookshelves growing taller in her mind.
The pressure disappeared.
"Will I be able to stop Dumbledore?"
Harry slowly shook his head. "If Dumbledore wanted to blast through your defenses, he could — Dumbledore, Voldemort, and Snape have decades of experience — and you're just beginning. What you're doing is what pureblood children are taught even before they get to Hogwarts."
Great, she was the equivalent of a child in terms of Occlumency.
"Right now, if someone starts attacking your mind, you need to break eye contact and try to get away. Given long enough, a powerful legilimens can break into anyone's mind. It's just time and determination." Harry said with a bleak edge in his voice.
Hermione swallowed. "Did Dumbledore break into your mind?"
Harry laughed, but the darkness didn't leave him. "No, Dumbledore is a man who has delusions of righteousness. As soon as he saw I had defenses, he backed off — just like he will for you. Dumbledore isn't the Legilimens you have to worry about, despite his power."
"Oh." That left Voldemort and Snape.
Harry saw the knowledge in her eyes and nodded. "Yes."
They sat there in silence for a moment, and Hermione shivered, looking away from Harry's eyes. The darkness was back. She wondered how Harry had learned Occlumency and how hard it had been for him.
"Thank you." She said, staring at her feet. "For not letting me remain ignorant and unprotected."
She looked up to see Harry shrug one shoulder. "You learn very fast. I like helping you."
Hermione kept his gaze as she asked," Who taught you, Harry?"
He froze, staring at her, before consciously relaxing. "Necessity taught me."
Necessity. Why had he found it so necessary to build his walls and learn? "Will you try to break through my mind? Is that how I will learn?"
He looked shocked by the question. "Never. I would never break through."
"But—"
"It's almost time for curfew. I'll walk you back to Ravenclaw tower."
Hermione caught him before he could move — there was one more thing she had to make sure of. Harry hadn't explicitly promised not to torture Ron, and she couldn't help the niggling suspicion that he might unless she pressed it.
"Harry?" She asked quietly.
"Yes?" He paused, listening.
"I don't want you torturing Ron."
Harry was silent long enough that she turned and looked at him. His face had gotten darker, his green eyes almost black.
"Why not? You care about him after everything he's done to you?" He asked incredulously, confirming her suspicions.
Hermione shook her head. "I don't even like him — torture is just wrong, Harry. He doesn't deserve that."
Harry's jaw clenched. "Fine. But then you owe me."
Hermione scoffed. "I owe you because I won't let you torture Ron Weasley?"
"Yes." Harry nodded. "It will interfere with my training schedule."
"Why are you training your house members?"
"So they're assets and not liabilities."
Hermione sucked in a quick breath at the coldness of Harry's response. "They're people, Harry."
"We're at war, they're soldiers." He corrected calmly.
What could she say to that? Even Dumbledore acknowledged they were in a war, though he called it a quiet war.
When she remained quiet, Harry repeated his earlier statement. "You owe me if I can't use Weasley."
"What do you want?"
Harry leaned toward her. "I want you to come with me to the Halloween party."
The yearning was there in his gaze as he stared at her, and Hermione made a decision. "I won't go with you just as part of a bargain to protect Ron."
Harry's gaze dimmed, and he looked away. "Fine."
Hermione reached out, brushing his hand with hers. "I'll go with you because I want to, Harry."
His head whipped around, his green eyes light. "You do?"
They weren't just soldiers. They were teenagers. And she was going to go to a party with him because she wanted to. "I do." Hermione hesitated before continuing. "And I want you to stop using Ron because…."
"Because…" He drew out, leaning a bit closer to her.
"Because you want to make me happy," Hermione said, tentatively staring into his dark green eyes.
"Tricky witch." He murmured. "I do want to make you happy." He reached out, his hand brushing along the soft curve of her cheek. "I like it when you smile at me." He dropped his hand, giving a loud sigh as if the concession cost him. "Fine, I won't torture Ron with the cruciatus curse anymore."
Hermione hesitated, looking into his sincere green eyes. "You won't torture Ron — at all — in any way that causes him pain or distress, even if he doesn't remember it."
Harry gave a rueful laugh. Frustration flickered for just a brief moment before he grinned, betraying that's exactly what he had intended, and she restrained a shiver at the gleeful darkness in his expression. "I will not torture Weasley in any way that causes him pain or distress — even if he doesn't remember it."
"Thank you, Harry."
"You're welcome, beautiful."
OOOOooOOOOoooOOOOooOOOO
Hermione breathed the chill air deeply. It was disorienting, going from the intensity she felt alone with Harry to being normal again away from him.
She had come outside after lunch with Padma and Luna to do some extra revision. The black lake rippled beyond where they sat, even though there wasn't a breeze. The strange tranquility was slightly disorienting when she considered it. As if everything terrible going on in the wider world wasn't real - only second-hand mutterings of a delusional mind.
Padma frowned as she leaned over her textbook. Her long black hair was pinned up with silky tendrils framing her face. Luna played with a bit of grass as she stared out at the black lake, probably trying to spot Horace.
Hermione looked back down at her own text blindly, thinking about her day. Harry had tried several times throughout the day to catch her with her guard down. But she'd felt the pressure each time as her mental walls kept him out, and Hermione felt pretty good about the fact that he hadn't succeeded. She definitely could see how soon it would be instinct for her.
Which thinking of Harry…. Hermione hadn't yet told Padma and Luna she was going to the Halloween party with him. Normally, the three of them went stag together and just had fun. "I'm going with Harry to the Halloween party." She announced to them without preamble.
Padma's head jerked up from her text, and she froze for a second, then groaned. "Ugh. Are we really going to have to find dates this time?"
Luna looked at Padma with a smile. "I'll go with you."
"Thank you, Luna— you're a true friend," Padma said with a meaningful glance toward Hermione. "Not getting distracted by a bad boy Quidditch player."
"Ha!" Hermione said without humor. "He's not a bad boy Quidditch player." That seemed entirely too lighthearted a description for Harry.
"Oh?" Padma asked, raising an eyebrow. "Is he or is he not a Quidditch player?"
Hermione thought of the times she had seen Harry after practice in his uniform, dirty and sweaty. Red raced into her cheeks.
Seeing her blush, Padma laughed. "I suppose it's okay — as long as he takes care of things like he did Ron Weasley."
Hermione coughed. She was never going to tell them Harry's method of taking care of Ron Weasley.
Luna looked at them mischievously, turning from her inspection of the black lake. "Maybe Harry thinks of Hermione as his golden snitch."
"Yes!" Padma grinned. "He's after her like a true seeker."
"No!" Hermione said, her face turning a fiery red.
"Better be careful, or he's going to catch you," Luna said a bit dreamily. "The sun is in Scorpio on Halloween, so Leos like Harry are going to be quite successful that month."
"I don't believe in that stuff," Hermione said firmly, ignoring her hot cheeks.
Silence fell as the girls sat there, a breeze making the branches above them creak.
Padma continued more softly. "You know we're just teasing. If you choose to go with Harry, that's fine, Hermione. The only thing I'd say…." She looked down at her book, saying just loud enough to be heard. "Is to make sure you're making the right choice." Padma looked up, her darker eyes meeting Hermione's lighter brown ones. "You know this isn't about spying anymore."
Hermione didn't think it had been about spying since the very first tutoring session when Harry had grasped her wrist and a shiver had gone down her spine that hadn't been fear.
When he'd talked to her about passion with a teasing smile.
"I know," Hermione admitted softly. She had chosen Harry — now she needed to know that he had chosen her too.
OOOOooOOOOoooOOOOooOOOO
Dread had slowly built up in Hermione's chest the longer she went without seeing Dumbledore. Her subconscious offered more and more outlandish imaginings of what might happen. Her most recent dream had been Dumbledore trying to probe her mind in the middle of the hall, and when he had found her barriers, he'd stopped drawing everyone's gaze.
He'd ignored the crowd, his sharp blue eyes fixed on her. He'd pointed at her, loudly accusing her of being a traitor to the Order of the Phoenix. Then he'd grabbed her to drag her away while everyone looked at them in horror.
So yes, she'd been a bit apprehensive. Hermione had finally seen him approaching from the opposite way while she had been on her way to charms. Wearing flashy apricot robes, Dumbledore strode authoritatively down the hall, smiling when students called out greetings.
She'd wanted to run so bad, but instead she lifted her chin and walked forward like nothing was wrong.
His gaze had locked with hers as he passed her, and she felt the pressure on her head as he tried to pick up her thoughts. Hermione sucked in a deep breath, reinforced her mental shields, and rebuffed him firmly. Dumbledore froze for just a second, his foot half in the air before it came down awkwardly, his stride slightly off as he walked past her without a word.
She clutched her books tight to her chest, trying not to tremble as she continued walking to her class. She wondered what he thought of her sudden ability to occlude, as nascent as it was.
Even though she had to get to class, a big part of her wanted to find Harry and tell him he had been right about Dumbledore. He hadn't pressed on the walls of her mind just as Harry had predicted. She pushed the thought away, though, and told herself she'd tell him during their next tutoring session.
The interaction with Dumbledore had made her curious. As soon as she had the opportunity, she'd asked Luna about Dumbledore, and Luna had told her that he had never tried to read her mind. So did Dumbledore just read the minds of Muggleborns and halfbloods who hadn't been trained to know what he was doing? It seemed too personal a question to ask any other pureblood.
Excuse me, but your mind hasn't been invaded by our Headmaster by any chance, has it?
No, definitely not something she could do. Hermione walked thoughtfully to her next class, Transfiguration. McGonagall smiled at her as she entered and took her seat next to Padma before turning to bring the class to order.
The sound of chalk scraping on the blackboard filled the otherwise silent classroom as McGonagall started her lesson.
Harry glanced at her, and she felt him test her mental shields. Impulsively, she stuck her tongue out at him.
He laughed out loud, and McGonagall whipped around, chalk in hand. "Mr. Potter. Would you like to share with the class what is so amusing about my lesson?"
Harry straightened, and his smile vanished. "Nothing, Professor."
McGonagall's lips thinned. "Five points from Slytherin if I hear another sound."
Harry inclined his head, "Yes, Professor."
Hermione kept her head down, fighting a smile, and looked out of the corner of her eyes at Harry.
Worth it, he mouthed at her.
Laughter felt like bubbles rising in her chest, and she bit her cheek so she wouldn't get in trouble with McGonagall, too.
Her laughter faded as McGonagall continued the lesson, her attention switching focus. McGonagall continued her lesson from the other day on partial body configuration, discussing the theory of switching and manifesting the elements — one of the most difficult levels of transfiguration.
"This will be reviewed under strictly controlled circumstances because, as with apparition, there is the chance of losing body parts when trying to switch between elements, which is high if you don't know what you're doing." McGonagall paused briefly and eyed her class. "For this reason, we're going to stick with switching our transformations between earth elements, so if we do lose a part, it will be easy to locate."
Scattered giggles broke out in the classroom. And Hermione looked over at Padma, and they smiled wryly at each other. The magical community's lackadaisical attitude toward injuries would never cease to amaze her.
"Now we're going to focus on switching between our previous lessons' steel to wood." McGonagall clapped her hands. "The important part of transformation is always your intent with magic — if you are uncertain or do not correctly picture the transformation in your head, it will not manifest correctly in your limb! Discipline and a clear head are required." She looked over at the Slytherin table. "That means focusing on the lesson at hand, Mr. Nott, and not on whatever floats around in what passes for your brain."
Theo grinned at her, "Yes, Professor."
Hermione was particularly excited by this lesson. The idea of transforming her hand into different elements as needed was awe-inspiring.
She met Padma's eyes, and they smiled at each other, both knowing the other was just as excited by the lesson.
"Now pair up — only one will be doing the transformation while the other provides support." McGonagall directed.
Padma leaned forward, "Do you want to be paired with Harry? I don't mind finding another partner."
Hermione hesitated, then shook her head. She'd already moved away from her friends by agreeing to go with Harry to the Halloween party — she didn't want to abandon Padma in class. "No, let's work together."
Padma grinned at her, and Hermione knew she had made the right choice. Harry was in her thoughts so much that she didn't want him to take her away from her friends. "Do you want to be the one trying, and I'll support?"
"No, if you want to —"Hermione began.
Padma made a self-deprecating smile. "We both know you're better than me in this class - it would help me to see you do it first if you don't mind. I'll provide support."
The class noise rose as students moved around to get into groups of two. Draco and Harry had paired up, and Nott had paired with Sue Li. Hermione saw Padma give a jealous glance at Sue and Theo and wondered at it. Padma had always protested she didn't like Theo that much, but her expression indicated something else.
"Now, class with your partner chosen, let's begin. Steel to wood." McGonagall directed. "Begin with your dominant hand. Support partners monitor the transformation and be prepared to intervene if necessary."
Hermione stretched out her right hand between Padma and herself. The steel transformation was easier now — her flesh hardening and silver racing up to the tips of her fingers.
Now, to go from steel to wood. She imagined the steel slowly softening and the grains of wood spreading in its place.
Her hand, half-transformed, the steel turning a darker brown. It looked strange — steel overlayed with a wood grain.
"Careful." Padma cautioned, pointing at the underside of her forearm.
"Blast," Hermione muttered, seeing the pink tone of flesh. She flexed her hand, letting the steel cover her again, all the flesh tones disappearing along with the wood grain.
McGonagall stopped behind her, observing. "Excellent attempt, Miss Granger."
Hermione wiggled her steel fingers, enjoying the way the transformation felt. Her body had turned to steel, but she still had sensation— just a bit muted as if the steel was a glove over her hand.
Hermione looked at McGonagall, and she gave her a brief smile that Hermione returned before she moved on to observe other pairs. When McGonagall moved, Hermione's gaze landed on Harry, who was facing her, his hand stretched out between him and Draco. It was silver, and darker wood was crawling up his forearm slowly.
His eyebrow cocked in challenge as he raised his hand slightly — showing he was further along in obtaining the switch than she had gotten. Hermione's gaze narrowed before dropping back to her own arm, which was still completely silver.
Harry had been transforming into a darker chestnut, while her transformation had been beech wood. Hermione wondered if that made a difference for the ease of transformation.
"Darker wood is easier for me," Harry said in a low voice from the table over.
Hermione jerked her steel transformation falling away, as she whipped around to stare at him. His wand was in his hand, pointing at her.
He'd read her blasted mind. She'd been concentrating so hard on the transformation she'd forgotten to occlude and protect her mind!
Hermione wanted to tell him that testing her right then had been unfair, but she knew that was stupid. She had to keep her walls up all the time, regardless of what she was doing.
Frowning, she turned her back on him again, putting up her shields and focusing on her arm. Steel rolled over her flesh smoothly. She focused on her hand, anger pushing her concentration.
Her magic weaved amongst the steel, threading in grains of dark wood, just like Harry's.
"Focus," Padma encouraged, watching the transformation closely.
The transformation wavered — the wood retreating briefly before surging forward. The steel disappeared as the dark wood raced over her arm, covering her from elbow to fingertip.
"Very good," Padma murmured, her focus absolute. "Now reverse it back."
Hermione carefully did, her skin reforming without issue. When her hand was fully human again, she flexed her fingers, relief and exhilaration flooding her in equal measure. Padma's hand shot into the air at the same time as Draco's.
"Yes, Padma, Draco?" McGonagall inquired.
"My partner did it!" Padma said.
Draco answered at the same time. "Harry completed the switch."
McGonagall looked shocked but pleased. "Why, I've never had two students get it so quickly! Come to the front of the class." She raised her voice. "Class, let's pause for a minute and watch a demonstration from Harry and Hermione."
Hermione's stomach dropped. It was one thing to do the transformation while sitting down with Padma's support — quite another to do it in front of the class.
Around them, chairs scraped and whispered ripples through the room as students turned to pay attention to their example. Hermione shot a slightly panicked glance at Padma. Padma gave her an encouraging nod.
Hermione stood up and smoothed down her robes with hands that were steadier than she felt. Harry stood next to her, and she realized he was waiting so that they'd walk to the front together.
As they walked side by side, Hermione noted the speculation in the gazes that watched them. She was so preoccupied with thinking about the rumors that she clipped the side of a chair and almost stumbled, but Harry caught her firmly.
"Careful." He said in a low voice.
She met his gaze and felt him try to probe her mind. Annoyed, she jerked her elbow away. "Thank you." She muttered.
They stood in front of the class side by side, their right arm raised as they showed everyone the switch — flesh to steel to wood and then back to flesh again.
A low murmur passed through the class, and a few scattered claps broke out. Harry grinned at the class, and his hand closed around her wrist before she could lower her arm.
His grip was firm and unmistakably possessive, strong enough that she couldn't lower her arm or pull free. He kept it raised for several long seconds, facing the classroom, and she found herself wondering where his attention was fixed. It felt deliberate—like he was silently staking a claim, presenting them as a united pair to anyone who cared to look.
Theo whistled loudly.
McGonagall watched them closely, her gaze flicking between where Harry held her arm up to their faces. Hermione had no doubt this incident would be reported directly to Dumbledore.
She tugged her wrist, and Harry released her immediately — likely because he'd already accomplished his goal of presenting them as a united front to the class.
McGonagall cleared her throat. "That will do — very well done, both of you. Return to your seats."
Relief washed through Hermione, and she rushed back to her seat. Padma was eyeing her, a little shocked and curious.
When Hermione sat down, she leaned close, nudging her. "You okay?"
Hermione nodded. "Yes. Just annoyed."
"That was pretty much as good as an announcement of a relationship between you two. It won't just be considered rumors anymore."
Hermione shot a glare at Harry, who looked back at her expressionlessly. "I know."
OOOOooOOOOoooOOOOooOOOO
Mindful of people who'd been giving the three of them more side eye since Harry's blatant attempt to show them as a team in transfiguration, Hermione, Padma, and Luna were studying in her secret corner of the library next to the cracked window.
Disillusionment, notice me nots, and a repelling charm, layered together kept the area private just for them. Luna was closest to the window in fact she was so close that her nose was practically in the small space that let in the outside air.
Padma was staring at Hermione with all their lessons spread out between them. "So are you two … casually dating? Or together?"
"No!" Hermione answered instantly. "We're…" Something.
Harry said he thought of her as his —, and she couldn't deny she felt proprietary toward him. And they'd also gone together to the Slytherin party and were planning to go together to the Halloween party. Still, they'd never really talked about being in a relationship together, and it seemed presumptuous of Hermione to tell Padma that they were.
"You're…." Padma continued leadingly when Hermione drifted off to silence.
"I don't know," Hermione admitted. "We haven't really talked about it."
"Well, from the way he acted in class, it seems like he already has an idea, and maybe you should talk about whether you agree with that," Padma advised.
Luna tilted her head, still watching the gray slice of sky through the crack in the window. "Maybe Harry doesn't need labels."
Hermione almost laughed out loud at that — Harry definitely didn't care about labels. "That I agree with, but I need labels."
Padma nodded in agreement. "That way there's no confusion — not to mention…" She trailed off, eyeing Hermione. "Does this mean he doesn't believe in that stuff you know who says?"
Hermione winced. That was another thing she hadn't really discussed with him — she couldn't explain it — once she was with Harry, everything moved so fast — and it was usually him driving the conversation, not her.
Padma looked shocked at her expression, her mouth dropping open. "Well, I mean, he must not be right? Not if he cares for you like he seems to?"
"I don't know," Hermione admitted. He had some strange ideas about Muggles — but obviously that couldn't extend to Muggleborns, considering the way he treated her. Or was it just her in particular that he treated like that? She'd never seen him interact with Lyla or Ramona, the only other two Muggleborns in their year.
Luna finally turned away from staring out the window to look at both of them. "People can care very deeply for a person and still hold very silly ideas about everyone else." She looked at Hermione, compassion in her deep blue gaze. "It doesn't mean the caring isn't real."
Padma frowned. "That's not exactly reassuring. What if he hates all muggleborns except Hermione?"
Hermione wrestled with the impulse to say it wasn't true and defend Harry, but did she really even know? Harry still hadn't answered almost any of her questions.
Luna didn't waver, though, her gaze still on Hermione. "It's realistic. Beliefs don't collapse all at once. They get worn away slowly — like rocks being shaped by the river of time."
That struck a chord in Hermione — but the question was who was changing? Was Harry pulling her further toward his own morality — his lack of morality to be accurate, or was she pulling him towards her own? She'd accepted so many things she would have thought just a few weeks ago would be beyond her.
Padma shook her head, disagreeing, and turned to Hermione. "If you're going to be getting closer to Harry — in whatever way—" she waved a hand, indicating the uncertainty of it. "Then you need to have a real conversation with him and know what he truly believes, and then decide if you can live with that. "
"I know," Hermione admitted.
She knew without a doubt Harry had issues with muggles — that seemed for certain considering his comments — but she was less sure where he stood with muggleborns who weren't her.
Padma cleared her throat. "Oh, and there's something else…" She looked at Luna, then Hermione. "Theo and Draco came and asked us to the Halloween party too — I figured since you were already going with Harry, we could all go together again." She frowned. "But with hopefully less drinking."
"Mmmm." Luna gave a dreamy little hum. "I enjoyed feeling like I was floating— it was quite different from flying."
Padma gave her a doubtful glance before looking at Hermione. "Theo also said they're going to have an after-party when the Halloween party in the Great Hall wraps up. In the dungeons again — I didn't know if you wanted to say yes or not, so I told him we'd think about it."
"Harry didn't mention an after-party to me." Did that mean he didn't want to take her? Or more likely, he just assumed that because she was going to the Halloween party with him, she'd go down to the dungeons with him afterward.
Probably. Hermione frowned. "Do you want to go? You know you don't have to go with Theo just to… " Hermione trailed off, wondering for a minute how to phrase it. "To ummm... support me or anything."
A blush crawled up Padma's skin while Luna announced blithely. "I'm doing it to support you and because I think Draco is hot."
Padma cleared her throat, glancing at Luna. "Yes, well, I think Theo is cute."
"You're sure?" Hermione pressed them, and they both nodded. She relaxed back in her chair with a sigh of relief. She'd wanted their support when she first went down into the Slytherin dungeon, but this was different.
Padma said a little self-deprecatingly. "Well, as Theo would say, we're all supporting interhouse unity."
Luna laughed. "Yay for slytherclaws!"
Hermione smiled as her two friends started joking together, enjoying the sound of their laughter. Outside the window, the sky had darkened, and it would soon be time to head back before curfew.
Before Halloween came, she promised herself she would know the answers to her questions about Harry.
Like, where had he gone that day in Hogsmeade?
Why had he left the Slytherin party he'd invited her to?
And how he'd gotten that injury on his side.
OOOOooOOOOoooOOOOooOOOO
It was early morning, and Hermione was getting dressed when there was a knock on their dorm room door. Padma went to see who it was and then came back with a frown.
"What did they want?" Hermione asked while looking into the mirror, trying to smooth down her hair. It was always rebellious, but today it seemed determined to resemble a brown cumulus cloud atop her head.
"You actually," Padma answered, causing Hermione to look her way. "Apparently, Hannah Abbott is waiting for you out in the hall."
"Hannah Abbott?" Hermione frowned. Hannah was a tall blonde Hufflepuff girl in the same year as her. She'd never been close to Hannah despite them being in the same year— and since the incident with Lyla's family, she'd been getting the silent treatment from most Hufflepuffs. So why would Hannah be coming to talk to her so early in the morning?
Hermione got dressed quickly, not wanting to further provoke her tenuous relationship with the Hufflepuff house. She told Padma and Luna she'd meet them in the Great Hall for breakfast afterwards.
When she got to the hallway, Hannah was near the wall across from the entrance, her Hufflepuff robes neatly pressed, and her hands clasped tightly together in front of her.
Hermione gave her a tentative smile. "Hi, Hannah."
Hannah gave her a small, quick smile in return before her face became serious again. "The Headmaster wants to see you."
"Oh." Hermione stiffened. There could only be one reason she was being called to the headmasters office. A tinge of fear threaded through her. Would Dumbledore try to break through her mental barriers? Maybe Harry had been wrong. "Um, what did he want? Do you know?"
Hannah's eyes widened as if it was astonishing that Hermione was even asking and not immediately obeying. She leaned forward, saying in a soft whisper. "It's for the Order."
The fear deepened— at least she knew her assumption that there were other students in the Order was correct. There was only one response that she could give. "All right." She said quietly. "Let's go."
Each step was a struggle as she tried to reinforce the barriers that Harry had compared to a child's. What would she do if Dumbledore pressed on her mind? What should she do? A big part of her wanted to run to Harry for help, but she'd told him over and over again she didn't need protection. She had to handle this herself.
Before they reached Dumbledore's office, Hannah spoke again. "I'm sorry about my housemates, I never believed the stuff they were saying about you."
Hermione was so focused on what Dumbledore might do that she replied automatically. "It's fine."
It hadn't been. But now all she could focus on was the coming confrontation. By the time they reached the stone gargoyle guarding the Headmaster's office, Hermione's mind had come up with a dozen different scenarios on what she would do if he attempted to breach her mind.
She and Hannah stepped into a room filled just as it had been when the Order had asked her to spy on Harry.
"Miss Abbott." Professor McGonagall said crisply. "Thank you. That will be all."
Hannah shot Hermione a brief, curious glance before turning and leaving.
Hermione stepped toward them alone, her hands fisted nervously at her sides.
"Miss Granger," Dumbledore said gently, and she immediately dropped her gaze to his middle. "Thank you for coming so promptly."
Hermione nodded tensely.
"This meeting concerns an operation the Order of the Phoenix is planning to undertake on Halloween night. We have credible information that Voldemort will be holding a revel on that day."
Hermione made the mistake of glancing up and immediately dropped her gaze again when she felt the brush of Dumbledore's mind against her own. He betrayed no outward sign that he had tested her mind's defenses again. A part of her wanted to bring his attempt out into the open, but she also wanted whatever information he was going to relay. "What do you mean by a revel, sir?"
"Revels are celebrations held by Voldemort during which they torture and abuse Muggles— we're planning to rescue who we can and fight them," Dumbledore explained.
"And you want me to help fight?" She asked.
Dumbledore did not answer immediately.
"In a way." He said at last. "I heard you intend to attend the Halloween celebrations with Harry Potter."
Hermione drew in a slow breath. "Yes, we're going together."
Moody's lips were twisted as he watched her, and his magical eye whirred, focusing on her.
Remus interjected, "We just need you to tell us what Slytherins leave the party with Potter."
"Just because they leave doesn't mean they're going to the revel," Hermione said sharply.
Snape, who had been watching silently, scoffed. "Where do you think he's going, Miss Granger, when he disappears? To powder his nose?"
"To Hogsmeade! To do things that teenagers do!" Hermione insisted.
Moody snorted. "You're in deep, girl. You'd better watch your step, or you'll find yourself on the other side, kneeling at you know who's feet."
"Alastor!" McGonagall snapped. "That was not necessary."
"Just making sure she knows where her loyalties lie," Moody said easily, his gaze not wavering from Hermione. "This isn't about parties and friends — it's about death to your kind."
Remus winced at the harshness but nodded. "We need your help, Hermione. Are you having second thoughts about your work for the Order?"
She definitely was having second thoughts, but Harry wouldn't leave. Would he? He was going to tell her all his secrets — and then — they'd be on the same side— wouldn't they? "I— I'll watch him."
"And those around him." Snape reminded her.
Hermione nodded sharply. "Fine, but they're not bad people. I won't be part of isolating them or hurting them."
Hermione could tell Moody was bursting with the need to yell at her, but Dumbledore raised his hand for silence. "Understood, Miss Granger. But the Order needs all its members dedicated to the cause of eradicating Voldemort and his followers— you are still committed to the Order, are you not?"
Hermione hesitated briefly before nodding, and all the adults in the room noted that hesitation. "Yes."
Dumbledore nodded. "Then we understand each other."
Hermione nodded again, turning on her heel to march toward the door, her appetite gone. Her tangled loyalties were getting to be too much. Not telling them about Ron weighed heavily on her— not because she felt bad — but because she didn't.
She just needed answers from Harry — then she'd be able to make the right choice. Considering how close Halloween was, she needed those answers sooner rather than later.
OOOOooOOOOoooOOOOooOOOO
Hermione was still rattled by the Order meeting when she walked into the tutoring classroom at the end of the day to find Harry waiting in the center of the room as usual. His mind immediately brushed against hers, making sure her barriers were in place.
The walls gleamed with a familiar blue shimmer. Harry had put up a protective ward again. Why would he put up a dueling barrier?
"Aren't we doing Occlumency today?" she asked, confused.
"No." He replied firmly, his shoulders stiff.
"Why? You said I had to learn — and that after you'd answer all my questions." She really needed those answers.
"We're dueling today."
"But I want to practice Occlumency."
"No." He said shortly, stepping back and raising his wand.
Hermione felt like stomping her foot in frustration. "Why not?"
"Because I said so." He motioned with his wand for her to get into a dueling stance.
She refused to raise her wand in response. "You're avoiding giving me answers, and I'm tired of it."
Harry was jaw flexed as he stared at her. "I'm not — I'm trying to help you improve your dueling as I said I would."
"Fine, we duel after you answer my questions." Hermione stepped closer to him, and Harry didn't move, watching her. "Do you believe what you know who believes? That muggleborns are lesser? That they should be exterminated?"
Harry scoffed, anger flickering over his face. "How could I believe Muggleborns are lesser when you exist?"
He closed in on her, arms locking around her as he spun her and pressed her step by step backward toward the wall. "Haven't I told you before how extraordinary I find you?" His head lowered, and her breath caught. "How could you think I find Muggleborns lesser or that I want to exterminate you? What else do I have to do for you to realize how I feel?"
The heat of him cooked her bloody brain cells. When she breathed in, all she could smell was him — a combination of the parchment, grass, and pure challenge. She licked her lips, staring up at his dark green eyes. "Then where did you go, Harry? After you left me at the bookstore, or when you left during the party? Why won't you trust me enough to tell me?"
"You know why." He said, frustrated. "And it's not just about the Occlumency — how much of what I say are you reporting to your master?"
"I have no master." Hermione snapped.
Harry raked a hand through his hair, leaving it more disheveled, then dropped his arms to brace them on either side of her, boxing her in against the wall.
"Then answer me this," he said quietly. "Will you keep my secrets, Hermione? You're worried about whether you can trust me, when I've never betrayed you—yet the only reason you spoke to me in the first place was to spy on me."
Hermione found herself unable to speak as they held each other's gaze. She had only approached him because of the Order—had she been so wrapped up in her own need for answers that she'd never stopped to consider what it must have felt like for him, knowing she'd been spying on him from the very start?
Still, it couldn't stay this way. She needed those answers, regardless of how they had gotten to this point. "If you won't tell me — the only thing I can think is that you're hiding something so terrible from me that I wouldn't be able to forgive you." Hermione inhaled shakily, asking about her worst fear, which she'd barely even admitted to herself. "Did you kill Lyla's family?"
"Bloody hell, Hermione." His head lowered, he was barely a breath away from her lips. "Is that what you think of me?"
"Then tell me—"
Harry's lips pressed against hers, firm and soft, cutting off her words. She sucked in a shocked breath as his tongue slid along the seam of her lips, asking for entrance. He took advantage when her lips parted. His tongue was hot and urgent, and warmth burned in her belly as he held her close and kissed her so sweetly. His arms tightened around her waist as he kissed her more aggressively, his tongue sliding along hers like a caress.
It felt like her dream — Harry was squeezing her, his mouth taking her air so she couldn't breathe, but at the same time, he tasted so good she didn't want to resist. She'd never been kissed before, and she hadn't had expectations, but this was more than she could have even imagined. He was like ambrosia on her tongue — she'd suffocate happily with that taste on her lips.
Harry groaned against her, the sound rippling through her nerves like fire as his hips pressed into hers. It was only when she felt him—hot and unmistakably hard against her—that she finally pulled back in shock.
The kiss broke with a wet sound as she turned her face away, breathing hard. But even then, Harry didn't stop, his mouth dragging long her cheek, and going down to the curve of her jaw as she shivered from the sensation.
"Hermione." He whispered against the curve of her neck, yearning burning in his voice.
Her heart was trying to escape her rib cage, and her breath came in desperate pants. "Harry—" Her hands bunched in his shirt as she tried to think with him pressed so close. He'd kissed her. He'd kissed her. The thought kept repeating over and over again. It was her first kiss, and he'd taken it, trying to distract her and drive the conversation the way he wanted again!
Anger filled her as she pushed against him hard, and he backed up, almost stumbling, red high in his cheekbones and his hot eyes fixed on her. His hands flexed like he wanted to grab her again. A part of her mourned that it had been like this for her first kiss — not some romantic interlude but Harry trying to subvert an argument, but another part of her was still reveling in his taste. The competing feelings just drove her anger higher.
"Why—" Harry started, but she cut him off.
Hermione held up a hand when he approached again, stopping him. "No, you don't get to kiss me to avoid answering my questions. You say you're worried about who I might tell — I can promise I won't, but I understand that means nothing if I'm not properly trained in Occlumency — so I need you to train me, Harry."
"The only way I know to teach you how to strengthen your mental guard is by breaking it down so you see the weaknesses in it. And it hurts when someone does that to you." He said softly, almost inaudibly. "I thought I could do it — but I was wrong. I won't do that to you. I won't hurt you again that way."
"You attacked my mental barriers—"
He scoffed. "Barely, and even then, you were in pain afterward. It feels like someone is driving a spike into your head when they're broken down— you'd get nose bleeds or even pass out..." He broke off and shook his head. "I won't do that to you."
There was personal experience in his voice — in the expression on his face. Someone had trained him like that. Whoever — no, that was wrong — she knew who it had been. Voldemort had hurt him by being inside his mind. Anger filled her at the thought. How could he obey someone who had hurt him?
But then he said he didn't believe that Muggleborns were less.
She reached up and caressed his cheek. "Then how will I ever get my answers, Harry, if you refuse to teach me?"
There was vulnerability in his dark green gaze as he looked at her. "You could trust me."
God, this was a quandary. A large part of her wanted to rush to comfort him — to agree to trust him. Harry was so many different faces — dark, amoral, confident, and yet so blasted vulnerable at times. She remembered the look in his eyes when he'd asked for reassurance that she wasn't afraid of him in the library.
"Do you trust me, Harry?"
"I want to." He admitted. "Even with everything you've hidden from me— I want to."
"What about Draco does he know enough — could he—"
Harry was in front of her again in a blink, his hand grasping her wrist. "Draco can't do anything for you." He said his voice was so sharp it could cut.
Hermione didn't press the issue, catching the flash of jealousy in his expression. She licked her lips, and his eyes followed the motion of her tongue. For a moment, she couldn't look away from the intensity in his gaze. With difficulty, she looked away, trying to get her mind back on track after seeing that hard, possessive edge in him.
They needed to trust each other, and she had no idea where to start to fix that issue. "I don't know where we go from here if you won't train me in Occlumency."
His eyes darted away from her before meeting her gaze again, speculatively. "If you give me time to make some arrangements … then I could tell you everything."
"What kind of arrangements?"
"I just have to take care of some things first for your safety and mine — then it wouldn't matter."
Hermione frowned. "You also said you'd teach me Occlumency and then you'd tell me — how do I know you won't change your mind again?"
"I won't," Harry said intensely. "I'll vow it."
A magical vow. Hermione shook her head. She wouldn't want anything to happen to him if he didn't fulfill his promise. "Tell me the day and I'll trust you to tell me everything on that day."
Harry looked up for a minute contemplatively. "By the last day of school."
That was months away. "Fine."
He smiled at her. "Thank you, Hermione."
Hermione's stomach had butterflies. She was such a pushover for him. Hermione shook it off and pushed against him, giving herself more room. "Then let's duel, Harry."
His face became serious as he nodded and stepped back, taking a dueling stance. "First to fall."
Hermione nodded with determination. "First to fall." She agreed to the terms. "No restrictions this time?"
Harry smiled in anticipation. "No restrictions."
She took a dueling stance facing him, concentrating on her form and making sure she stayed limber. When his first disarming charm barreled toward her, she smiled and moved out of the way, liquid fast. "You kind of like those, don't you?"
He grinned at her, his eyes sharp. "Is it obvious?"
Hermione waved her wand in a lasso motion above her head - the air swirling above her as the desks slid forward, making a barrier between them. "Just a bit! Depulso!" The spell shoved all the desks that she pulled with the air spell outward. They formed a wave of projectiles coming straight at Harry to knock him off his feet.
Harry jumped in the air— so high he had to have used magic to push himself in the air, and the desks slid under him, slamming into the blue ward line.
After that, there was no more talking as they traded spells — Harry sticking mainly to his most powerful, simplistic spells while Hermione cast whatever popped into her head.
Sweat dripped down her back after they had been fighting for almost twenty minutes, and her breath was coming in gasps.
Harry's breathing was even, but she was satisfied to see a trickle of sweat on his brow.
"Your spells aren't lethal enough, Hermione." Harry chided.
"We're just trying to knock each other down."
"Then take me down." His wand flew through the air, the nonverbal spells barreling out of his wand in a steady stream.
Her shield was already weakened from the long battle, and the spells smashed against it — the sound of her magic cracking was audible, and she sucked in a sharp breath.
"Now!" Harry demanded his wand, not pausing. "Cast a bombarda— cast something lethal!"
Hermione's hand tightened on her wand. "Immobulus!"
He batted it away, not even shielding or ducking.
"Incarcerous!" She gritted out, the spell not even coming close to him.
"How are you going to learn if you refuse to do what I tell you? You're not going to hurt me." With that, he cast at her again, layering his disarming spell with a knockback jinx exactly as he had done before.
The twin spells tore clean through her shield, hurling her into the air and wrenching her wand from her grasp. She barely had time to register the wall rushing toward her before Harry's wand sliced through the air, a silent summoning spell snapping into place. Her trajectory shifted abruptly, and she was pulled back with her wand—straight into his arms.
"I lasted longer." She muttered against Harry's chest.
"Do you know how to cast the unforgivables?"
Hermione's breath caught. "I wouldn't."
"Even if Voldemort stood before you? What would you do? Try to capture him with an incarcerous? He'd laugh before he killed you." Harry said roughly, giving her a little shake. "There is no place for mercy when you are fighting the merciless— all that does is make you weak."
She remained stubbornly silent until he sighed. "Fine, we'll pick this up next time." He steadied her on her own feet before walking away toward his bookbag.
She felt a little bereft as he got his things together — she'd grown used to him sitting down and talking to her afterward. "You have to go already?"
"I promised Vincent I'd look over his herbology essay." He looked over at her and paused. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." She averted her eyes, fiddling with her wand.
"Didn't we just have a conversation about trust?" He left his bag and approached her. "Something is bothering you. What is it?"
Hermione shrugged, still avoiding his gaze. "Really, it's nothing — I just — I thought we'd talk more after we got done with the lesson."
He froze, looking at her. "You want to spend more time with me?"
Hermione frowned. "Well — yes. I don't get to talk to you that much."
Harry searched her eyes as if trying to divine the truth. Of course, she wanted him around more — had he stayed away so much because he thought she only wanted him close during tutoring? He couldn't have thought that, could he?
But looking into his eyes as they searched hers, Hermione realized that's exactly what he had thought.
That's why he'd been bargaining with her for more time. Both the bet for the duel and — when he bargained about not hurting Ron.
She admitted to him softly. "I like being with you."
Harry frowned. "You were angry when I grabbed your hand during Transfiguration — and you were running away from me at Hogsmeade— and — "
"That was different!"
"How?"
Sometimes she wondered at the things he didn't understand. "You were making a show of us in transfiguration — and at Hogsmeade, that was after you wouldn't answer my questions."
"Then, when can I be with you aside from tutoring?"
Hermione shrugged. "I don't know, whenever you want?"
"I want to walk you to your classes," Harry said quickly.
"Which ones?"
"All of them. And I want you to sit with me at lunch. Luna and Padma can come."
Hermione stared at him and wrinkled her nose. "This sounds like demands and not —"
"Not what?"
"I don't know, just spending time with each other."
Harry stepped closer to her, his eyes bright green. "I want to spend all my time with you."
The intensity of him made her chest tighten. "Oh."
He came even closer, their clothes brushing. "Because when I'm not with you, I'm always wondering where you are— who's with you — if you're okay. I just didn't want to put any pressure on you."
Oh yeah. That's not pressure at all. Hermione felt faint as she stared up at him. She was thinking of something a little less intense in terms of spending time with each other. "I don't need guarding, Harry."
"I know." He said immediately. "Especially if you used more lethal spells— you're quite good— I think you could take Draco down."
Hermione tried to ignore the rush of warmth his praise gave her to concentrate on the issue. "Walking me everywhere, sitting together at meals — you know that will draw attention."
He nodded.
"And questions…"
"Yes."
"And speculation that maybe we're in a relationship … or something…"
Silence stretched. The blue ward around them hummed softly. "I said you're mine and I meant it."
Hermione felt like stomping her foot in frustration. She didn't want ownership. She wanted him to say he cared. "You're impossible."
"Why?"
"I want to spend time together like normal people. Walking together around the black lake sometimes. Studying together sometimes. Lunch when it makes sense — not every time, all the time like I'm a possession of yours."
His mouth tightened. "Fine."
"Fine." She echoed.
A moment of silence passed.
"Can I still walk you to all your classes?"
This man. She'd definitely go mental from him — for him — with him — just mental. She couldn't stop the twitch of her lips as she stared up at his furrowed brow — as if she was the one who didn't make sense. "Okay, Harry."
His slow grin sent butterflies fluttering in her stomach.