Disclaimer: If I were J.K., HBP would have turned out much different.

A/N: This is a challenge fic, obviously named "The Mudblood Act", posted by evenstar921311 on Portkey. It looked like so much fun, I couldn't resist.

"No, you're not going," Harry crossed his arms. Hermione did the same, glaring at him with her best Hermione Granger Glare. "I'm not budging on this."

"Well, you're going to have to," she said. "Because I'm going and there is no way you can stop me."

"Please, Hermione, just do this for me," Harry said, almost pleading with her, his resolve cracking a bit. "I can't have you out there."

"You're letting Ron go,"

"Well, Ron is….Ron,"

"And Ginny,"

"Well….um…." he was running out excuses. He took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Please, just do this for me."

"How many times have I told you? You don't have to do this alone!"

"I know that. And I won't be alone! There will be Order members and other D.A. members….and other people… I just don't want you there, okay?"

"And why not?"

"It's complicated"

"Enlighten me," she said, raising her eyebrows, though not breaking her stance.

"I just can't have you out there!" he said, raising his voice helplessly.

"You keep saying that. But you've yet to give me a reason as to why,"

"I won't have you getting hurt," he said, his frustration flaring up. She wasn't getting it, could never get it.

"I've gotten hurt before," she said, "It won't be anything new."

"What if you die!" he raised his voice another decibel. He was glad they were in an empty Common Room. This was defiantly not something he'd like to share with the rest of Gryffindor House. He was grasping at straws. He was frantically trying to come up with a reason as to why she couldn't go that she would accept. "What then?"

"If it's to take out a psycho-maniac like Voldemort, I'll take my chances,"

"I won't let you! I don't want you getting hurt! I don't want you to die!" she sighed and uncrossed her arms. She gave him a pleading look.

"Please, Harry, I can't have you going out there by yourself,"

"I told you! I won't be alone!"

"And what am I supposed to do? Sit here and knit?"

"Knit, read, do whatever you like, but you're staying here,"

"You don't understand! I can't do that! I can't just sit here and be worried sick that you might be hurt…..or dead!"

"And I can't have you on the front line, where you could get hurt or…killed. I can't lose anyone else! Especially you! That's why you have to stay here. Please, Hermione, no more questions, just do this…..for me?"

"Why do you care so much?" she asked, tears ebbing into her voice. He sighed, and ran his fingers through his hair.

"I don't know. Please, just stay here?"

"I can't do that, Harry. I'll see you tomorrow on the front line," she said, and went up to the girl's dormitories. Harry sighed, and flopped on the couch. He stared into the dying flames of the fireplace. He hugged one of the enormous throw pillows that lay next to him. He couldn't do it. Scenario after scenario kept creeping into his mind; of Hermione getting hurt, getting killed, over and over again. He felt something wet on his face, and was surprised to find that he was crying. He sobbed quietly into the pillow, and barely heard it when Parvarti and Lavender came down the stairs.

"Harry? You okay?" Lavender cautiously tapped him on the shoulder. He wiped away the tears and looked at her.

"Yeah, fine, just great," he mumbled, angrily throwing the pillow aside and crossing his arms. Lavender and Parvarti looked at each other and rolled their eyes.

"Yeah, sure Harry. You always bawl into throw pillows at three in the morning," Parvarti said. "Is it Hermione? She looked pretty upset when she came up."

"Yeah, she was mumbling something about you being overprotective or something like that," Lavender chimed in. "So….do you want to talk about it?" Actually, talking to Lavender and Parvarti about his relationship problems was the last thing he wanted to do.

"Not really," he said.

"Well, why don't you just give us a run through?" Lavender sat down next to him on the couch. "We may be able to help."

"I don't want her at the front line tomorrow, and she wants to go. That's about it,"

"Why don't you want her to go?"

"I don't want her getting hurt," was the curt reply.

"Yet you're letting your best friend go with you. He could get hurt too,"

"But with Ron….it's different,"

"Why is it different? He's still you're best friend," Parvarti pointed out. Harry sighed. Why was it different? All he was doing was switching one best friend for another.

"I don't know. Hermione is…..Hermione. I just don't want her getting hurt,"

"Is it because you care more about Hermione than Ron?"

"No!" Harry said immediately. "I care about them both equally."

"Okay…"

"I do! They're both my best friends,"

"Then why is it you don't want Hermione to go, but you want Ron to go?"

"I can't protect her if she's out there," he said, holding his head in his hands. "She might get hurt, or even killed. I don't want that."

"What about Ron?"

"Ron can take care of himself."

"You do know that Hermione knows and can do more spells than Ron, right? She can take care of herself too,"

"I know that! I guess I'm just being selfish,"

"Selfish?" they both asked at the same time.

"I need her too much in my life. I mean, she's stuck by me, helped me with homework…..and given me hugs when I need them,"

"Anything else?"

"It's just….everything. She's so…unique. I've never seen anyone look as good as Hermione does when she rolls out of bed, or when she's tired, or the electrified look she gets when she's fighting with Ron…again. And she's so nice, not just to me. I told her once that she'd make a great mother someday…." He was rambling, and he knew it.

"Of whose children is the question," Lavender said. "David's, perhaps?" David was Hermione's latest ex-boyfriend.

"No," Harry said, feeling a bitter taste in his mouth. None of her boyfriends were good enough for her, at least not by his standards. They were all too dim-witted, or too greasy, or too cruel. He'd wanted to hex every single one of them. And then….it hit him. He loved her. He loved everything about her, and his brain immediately started to search for new things, as a picture of her popped up in his mind.

"Then whose, Harry?" Parvarti urged him, poking him in the arm. "I think you know, don't you?"

"I think he does," Lavender agreed. "Whose children, Harry?" He was dumbstruck for a few minutes, his jaw just hanging out in mid-air. His mind was reeling. How? How could he have sat there all this time and never wanted to be more than friends with Hermione? To reach out and touch those silky locks or to have her body fit perfectly with his?

"Mine," he said finally, leaning back into the couch and rubbing his forehead. Parvarti and Lavender smiled.

"Our work here is done," Lavender said, and she and Parvarti stood up to leave.

"Wait!" he called.

"Yes?"

"Could you do me a favor?" Lavender and Parvarti looked at each other.

"Depends on what the favor is," Lavender said, leaning on the railing of the girl's dormitory stairs. "And don't worry, we won't tell Hermione about this little conversation."

"No, that's not the favor. You two aren't going to the battle, are you?"

"No, our parents wrote to the school to specifically forbid it,"

"Good. Then, could you maybe, keep Hermione in your room? I really, really need her to stay in the castle. I don't want her getting hurt…especially now that I know. Could you do that for me?"

"Sure thing, Harry," Lavender said, "But if Hermione kills us, we're coming back to haunt you." Harry chuckled.

"Fair deal. Remember, keep here there. No one comes in, no one goes out. Got it?"

"Sir, yes, sir!" Parvarti saluted him and turned to go up the stairs. "Good luck tomorrow."

"Thanks," he mumbled. He stared again into the fireplace, though the embers had died hours ago. He replayed every instance he and Hermione had spent together, all the hugs, the adventures, the looks, everything. He couldn't believe how he couldn't have realized earlier, it was so obvious. And he had never noticed. Now, it could be too late. He heard the clock chime five, then six, then seven. Dawn crept into the Common Room to find Harry still awake, not a bit tired. He heard the clock chime eight, and realized that he probably should wake up Ron and the rest of the make shift army.

Presently, he heard the door to the girl's dormitory open, and out stepped Hermione, dressed in jeans and one of Harry's old sweatshirts he had outgrown years ago.

"Ready to go?" she asked, pulling her long, now to Harry, irresistible hair into a ponytail and descending the stairs. Harry looked to the doorway in panic. Where were Lavender and Parvarti? Weren't they supposed to be keeping her in the dorm?

"Anything wrong, Harry?" she asked coolly. Obviously, their argument had not dissipated. Harry weakly shook his head and gulped. He should have known better than to trust the Gossip Queens of Hogwarts. Now what was he going to do?

"Harry? Harry!" Hermione snapped her fingers in front of his face. She was standing close, much too close. She placed a hand on his shoulder and looked at him worriedly. "Are you sure you're okay?" Oh, no. Not the look. The look that could make him do anything, and at the moment, made him want to sink into a puddle of goop. The pressure of her hand on his shoulder was driving him crazy. He took step back. He needed time to collect his thoughts, before he did something he would regret later.

"Have you woken up Ron yet? You know he's heavy sleeper," Harry shook his head, and again looked to the top of the girl's dormitory stairs.

"I'm up, I'm up," came a voice from the boy's dormitory stairs. Ron stood there, in mismatched blue corduroy pants and tan sweater. He rubbed his eyes. He opened his eyes and looked at his best friends in a mixture of bewilderment and surprise.

"Wait," he said, looking from Harry to Hermione and back. "I though you weren't going to let her go," he looked at Harry.

"And he's not," came Parvarti's voice from the stairs. "Sorry, Harry. Our clocks are ten minutes slow. I forgot." Harry gulped, and a rush of relief fell over him.

"What? Of course I'm going. I told Harry yesterday that there was nothing he could do to stop me," she crossed her arms and glared at Harry. "Please explain."

"Well, you see…." Lavender said, coming to join her counterpart on the stairs. "Harry decided that it was not in your best interest, or his, for you to go today. Therefore, he employed us to make sure you don't." Hermione's eyed sparked.

"Excuse me?" she glared harder at Harry. He had the distinct feeling that he was about to get slapped. Ron took a few steps back. "I can't believe this! I've stuck by you all these years, and suddenly you're casting me aside?"

"I am not casting you aside!" Harry said; his own anger surfacing. "I just don't want you getting hurt."

"We're not going over this again. I'm going," she said, making her way to the Portrait Hole. Harry sprinted in front of her to block it.

"Move, Potter," Harry winced. She'd never called him Potter before. It surely couldn't be good. "Please, don't make me hex you." She took out her wand from her front pocket and pointed it at Harry. At this point, he was terrified. He'd never been on the receiving end of Hermione's wrath, and he didn't want to be.

"Expelliarmus" Lavender said, and Hermione watched, dumbfounded, as her wand made a large arch and landed in Lavender's outstretched hand.

"I'm sorry I had to do that, Hermione," she said calmly. "Now, we can either do this the easy way, or the hard way. The easy way is that you just come up to the dormitory with us, out of harm's way, and the hard way would be forcing us to use a spell on you, and forcible carrying you up to the dormitory."

"Either way, you're ending up in that dormitory," Parvarti said, crossing her arms.

Hermione looked as if she had been betrayed. She looked wildly about her, looking for someone who would sympathize with her. Ron had removed himself from the room shortly after she'd turned on Harry.

"I'm sorry Hermione," Harry said, his head hanging. "It was the only way I could get you to stay, seeing as you wouldn't do it willingly." Hermione said nothing, but he could feel her glare penetrating his head. Harry looked at his watch. It was time to go. He nodded to Parvarti and Lavender.

"Come on, Hermione, time to go," Parvarti said, coming over and putting and arm around her shoulders. Hermione violently jerked out of her grasp.

"Hermione, we'd rather not have to resort to spells," Lavender said.

"Please just come along," Parvarti pleaded with her. Harry remained silent, but tears were streaming down his face. She was hurt, and in pain, he could tell, but this was for her own good, and he wasn't going to budge on it. She walked over to him and slapped him hard on the cheek, but even that pain couldn't compare to the gnawing ache he felt in the pit of his stomach. He didn't move, save to wrap his arms around her.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered into her hair, as she rained down punches onto his chest, sobbing. "I'm so sorry." He pressed a kiss to her forehead and turned her over to her keepers for the duration of the battle.

"Come on, Hermione," Lavender said, taking one of her arms and leading her up towards the stairs. "It'll all be okay." These words were doing nothing to settle her visibly frayed nerves, Harry could tell. A tiny rip formed in the corner of his heart. He wiped the tears from his eyes with the back of his hand and turned to go out.

"Harry, wait!" her voice sounded choked and watery. Harry turned around, only to have his vision obscured by a large amount of hair. He wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug, her sobs muffled by his shirt. He whispered reassurances in her hair.

"Be careful," she said, pulling away and angrily wiping the tears from her face. "Okay?"

"I'll try," he said, giving her one final kiss on the forehead and walking out of the Portrait Hole.