Loyalty, Or Something More?

Harry sighed in exhaustion. With the Triwizard tournament on top of his fourth-year schooling, he felt he was rapidly being drained of reserve energy, even before the First Task. His brain helpfully reminded him he could not simply go back to his dorm and complain to Ron about it. He wasn't even speaking to Harry after he got into the tournament; even Malfoy spared some breath for snide remarks. He put his book down heavily.

"Harry! Could you please not slam your books in the library," pleaded Hermione.

"Oh, sorry," he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

Hermione went back to writing on a length of parchment long enough to tie up Hagrid. Having finished rubbing his eyes, Harry silently studied Hermione's silent but determined form, sinking deep into thought. Ron's walked off furious, but she's still here, sticking to me, standing by my side. I know Ron's been overshadowed all his life, hence him being infuriated by me being 'better' again, but what does Hermione see in me? He didn't think terribly highly of himself, and was definitely prone to languishing in anguish...

What does she see in me, dammit? "He left, but she stayed..." he said almost inaudibly to himself. However, in absence of loud book-dropping, Hermione picked it up right off the bat.

""He left, but she stayed." What are you thinking of, Harry?" inquired Hermione, softly marking and closing her book, looking right into Harry's eyes.

"Eh, nothing," replied Harry defensively.

Hermione rolled her eyes in a very familiar fashion. "Yes, Harry, that was "nothing"; also Pansy Parkinson has double-D boobs," she shot at him sarcastically.

"Really? I don't know much about boob size but I'm pretty sure Pansy Parkinson doesn't have much more than Aunt Petunia, who apparently is an A cup."

Her sarcastic remark having been taken off on a tangent, Hermione went from sharp to surprised. She definitely did not expect Harry to even roughly know his aunt's cup size. "How in Merlin's name do you know her size?"

"Oh, it went like this. Dudley did poorly on a class test near his Year 5 final, and Aunt Petunia was furious with the teacher, ranting about how Dudley was a "definite A". I was made to sit behind in the crowd, and overheard another mother whisper, "The only definite A's her breast size,"."

"Hm. Well, that is something girls can tell, so I suppose she knew what she was talking about." Hermione paused momentarily. "So what were you whispering to yourself about?"

"Long story. Don't you have an essay-" Harry broke off when he saw Madam Pince (tailing a caravan of book trolleys) stop by their table, look at him severely and hiss, "Is silence so difficult, boy? Also, we're closing in a minute. Get moving." She then departed after the caravan.

Hermione put her things into her bag, and Harry followed suit. "We'll continue in the common room."

Much later that night, as Harry was struggling to stay awake while writing notes on some terribly boring goblin war that occurred several hundred years ago, Hermione yawned and declared, "Right, I'm done for the night. I'll go to bed first, if you don't mind."

Harry simply nodded. "Goodnight, Hermione."

"Goodnight, Harry."

She began to walk over to the staircase that led up to the girls' dormitory, but stopped in front of the dying embers in the fireplace. She turned around and in a very Steve Jobs-ish way, said, "Oh, one more thing."

"Yeah?" Harry gave up on his essay.

"What you whispered to yourself in the library. Who's it about?"

If he wasn't so utterly clapped out, he might have been able to come up with a decent smoke screen. As it was, his response was a mistake. "Oh, nobody."

"Judging from the way you said it, Harry, I'm betting it's about me staying and Ron leaving. Am I right, Harry?"

Harry would have made a rage face if he had the energy to do so. "Yeah, it is..." he sighed in resignation.

"Interesting. We'll discuss it tomorrow."

"Yeah, okay..."

The next morning, Harry was down at breakfast surprisingly early. Hermione sat down next to him and poured herself pumpkin juice, watching Harry stack rashers of bacon, scrambled eggs, fried mushrooms and grilled tomatoes into an enormous tri-deck sandwich held together with four slices of white toast.

Hermione sighed at the towering sandwich, and took some ham and eggs. She never quite understood how boys could eat so much, or even want to each so much. Beside her, Harry opened his mouth wider than her ever had before – even wider than when he had to face off the Dementors the previous years to save Sirius – and took a bite of his custom-built sandwich.

"Harry, let's go to the library later, and find a place to talk. Quietly." Hermione placed great emphasis on the last word, as she spooned a little sugar into her English Breakfast tea.

Harry's mouth was too full to reply, so he just nodded. He might not particularly love the library, but time with Hermione was time well spent.

In the library, they managed to find a fairly secluded spot, which they occupied after managing to get Ginny to hang out with some Ravenclaws of her year, rather than them. "Before we get buried in work," began Hermione, "let's get this thing out of the way."

Harry was quite surprised Hermione put work behind getting around this thing he accidentally let slip. "OK, why don't you start..."

"Let's recap. You're wondering why I'm still here beside you, while Ron's run off to be a professional prat."

"Yes, that is correct."

"OK." Hermione looked down at Harry's book and held her gaze there when she continued. "One, we've been friends since the troll incident in our first year. Being friends does entail loyalty, you know. Two, you need the help. Even if we weren't the best friends we are, I'd help."

"Loyalty, you say."

"Yes."

"But Ron's loyal; he stuck to us through the crisis of last year. There's something more..."

Harry looked up and saw Hermione's expression. She seemed troubled. Like there was another reason she wasn't ready to reveal. "My expertise in reading faces is limited, but is there something more that you're not telling me about?"

Hermione blushed almost invisibly. Almost – one could see a very slight flush. Harry's eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. Not sure if it's something terrible, or she just likes me at another level.

The table was rather narrow, so they were actually seated diagonally opposite each other in order to have enough space to work. Hermione reluctantly slid down the bench so as to be directly opposite Harry. She leaned in just beside his head and whispered, "Friendship isn't the only thing that commands loyalty. Love can, too."

"Oh, okay," responded Harry, "that explains a lot. Helps a lot, too."

Hermione hit him with a book the size of a small television. "Is that the best thing you can say?" demanded Hermione.

"I love you too, Hermione."

Hermione blushed furiously, and leant over to kiss Harry on the cheek. Harry had a look that indicated he wouldn't object to more, but she merely smirked, "Mr Potter, this is the library."

He wouldn't have had her any other way.