You are my everything

Harry's first instinct was to get back to the Gryffindor tower, yet Harry highly doubted that Hermione would want to face her meddling dorm mates, who would jump at the chance of any juicy gossip, if she was really distressed at the moment. The library was already closed by that time, so he could not go there, either. He guessed the most logical thing for his best friend to do when she was feeling sick was heading straight to the hospital wing. However, something about her tonight told him that the last thing she cared about was her health, even if she was suffering from physical pain. He could sense a different pain, much deeper, much more profound, much more intense, a pain that no healing potions or spells could remedy. Harry was cursing himself relentlessly, He should have known that something was amiss from the beginning. He did notice, but he foolishly chose not to act on it. He should have watched her all the time. He should have asked her to dance before the unmannerly coward could, she was his date after all, or at least he should have pinned her to the couch beside him when the git asked her.

His emotional turmoil of heartache, regret, panic, and fear, tightened around his chest, making it very hard for him to breathe as Harry sprinted aimlessly up and down all of the Hogwarts corridors. He leaned on the wall, succumbed with exhaustion and despair, his eyes falling on the candle alcove in front of him. He was not sure whether he was hallucinating or the candle had morphed into a pair of magical fireflies, but the light bulb went off in his head that moment. Harry resolutely pushed himself off the wall and continued running to the end of the firefly-lit corridor. Anxiety was still hot under his feet, but he felt more reassured with each purposeful step. His heart was beating so fast that he thought it would bolt out of his ribcage and race down the stairs before he could reach the final landing.

Harry stopped dead in his track in utter relief, still panting heavily, when he saw his best friend sitting on the solitary porch step, knees drawn to her chest, her head on her knees, away from his direction, her thick brown hair shrouded her arms and most of her side view. It was not a matter of luck or coincidence that he found her there. Actually, it was the inexplicable certainty in his heart that he would find Hermione there that rendered his vision blurry. From her position, Hermione had yet to see him, yet Harry still felt the need to press himself to the wall for the second time, just breathing mutely.

Gusts of cold winds wafted into the open corridor. Harry wasn't looking at her, but he could tell Hermione was hugging her knees closer to her chest, his mind fleetingly void of thoughts. He briskly closed distance between them, sat down next to her, and briskly took off his coat. Without greeting, he turned to Hermione, who hadn't shown any sign of knowing he was there, one hand gathering her hair up, the other clumsily wrap his coat around her shoulders, and let her hair fall back in thick curls. His hands lingered on her hair for a moment, then slid down her arms beneath the thick material of his coat, squeezing them briefly before letting go completely. He shifted back to his spot, allowing an appropriate space between him and his best friend.

"McLaggen said you were not feeling well?" Said Harry, sounding as nonchalant as he could, but his intonation implied he was rather anxious for her response. Hermione did the last thing Harry expected.

"Did he actually buy that?" she burst out laughing, stopped to calm down, and went on somberly, "I'm as right as rain. I just need some lame excuse to elope."

Harry quietly let out a breath he had been holding deep from within. Her silvery laugh was like April showers to his internal fire, his bitterness faded as if treated with her magical Murtlap salve. He even spared a moment to feel sorry for his 7th year housemate.

"Does that mean I should be worried about you coming up with a wicked way to escape from me someday, huh?" Harry cocked his eyebrows at her, trying to appear formidable, but his lop-sided grin gave him away.

Hermione looked at him, her face the picture of a placid Hogwarts lake, except for her brown eyes brimmed with that wretched unreadable sensation again. Discomfort growing in his stomach, Harry was secretly countering some invisible voice taunting at him, No, no, no, his Hermione will never abandon him, come what may! Certainly, she likes him better than the McLaggen git, he is her best friend, and he will be always there for her, not like some chicken cowering away from a younger student due to mere threat warnings. His train of thought reminded him of something else.

Harry broke the silence."You know what, Hermione? You could just say you put a Confundus charm on McLaggen at the quidditch tryout, I bet the git wouldn't have dared bother you."

"Actually, he's not that bad... True, I couldn't stand him before, I heard the brat insulted my best friend and his sister." Hermione looked down and sighed deeply, "It's just spur- of -the -moment, really. I don't know what came over me, but I regretted right afterwards..."She fell silent, chewing on her lips in momentary contemplation before turning to him, asking honestly, "Harry, do you think I should just come clean and apologize to him? Oh Harry! I will not get expelled, will I? Oh dear, I think I severely misunderstood him, Cormac is -"

"I thought you were helping Ron." Harry said gruffly, looking broody.

Hermione knitted her brows, "Ron? What did Ron have to do with..."She stopped abruptly, her eyes widening in recognition, "Oh Harry! Is that what you were thinking? Oh my..."Hermione trailed off, then let out an exasperated sigh, "Harry, it is not super critical to me that the Gryffindor quidditch team must make best use of Ron's keeper talent, not to mention quidditch practice has given him even more excuses to dodge prefect duties ever since." Hermione huffed loudly as Harry looked quite surprised, "And honestly, Harry, here I was sitting on edge, worrying that you might get expelled for giving Ron liquid luck!"

Harry had never openly questioned Hermione's sneaky action, but relief poured into his soul for reasons he couldn't name. She always seemed to have a knack for releasing obscure knots in his slow brain, but he was not proud of the fact that his heart was literally singing in comprehension. His best friend looked adorable whenever she was irritated, and he couldn't care any less that he was the reason of her irritation. In fact, he really enjoyed looking at her flushed cheeks, her frizzled hair when she bobbed her head, gestured with her hands to prove her points, inadvertently shrugging off his coat. His spirits consumed her zeal, soaring higher than any other time that night.

"Oh really? You were disappointed that your best friend might have cheated in Quidditch, but you had to go break the rule by yourself, and should I add, put a higher year student in disadvantage during a trivial game, Miss Granger?" quipped Harry, his eyes smiling.

Hermione nodded sweetly, "Uh huh, then we'll get expelled together, sneaking off to a faraway place, like…like Paris, you know, the City of Lights, historic, majestic, and romantic with the Seine River, the Louvre, the Notre Dame Cathedral. I've been there once, and I've always wanted to come back." Her voice kept rising in another spurt of enthusiasm. "Imagine, Harry, NO Voldemort and his rotten army hunting after you, NO Ministry officials harassing you, there're only…oh well…you get the idea." She finished with a small shrug.

Harry kept gaping at his friend, shock written all over his face.

"Crookshanks has gotten your tongue?" Hermione turned her head away from him, and put her hands on her mouth to hide her snigger, her shoulders shaking with laughter, "Honestly, Harry, you can't even tell I was kidding!" She cleared her throat, adding seriously. "You do have to finish your Newt to have Auror education, anyway."

All of his faculties taut with astonishment and anticipation deflated all of a sudden. He shook his head slightly as if to shake off any remnant visions of his fanciful imagination. Harry was amazed that his best friend seemed to be wired for jocularity tonight, which infected him with gaiety. Harry suddenly remembered how she was pestering him about a mere stupid potions textbook, so he decided to be equally playful.

He mimicked her signature voice. "Honestly," Deliberately ignoring that Hermione wrinkled her nose in mock distaste, he went on in a grave tone, "it still sounds absolutely incredulous to me. You can't tell me that's what miss Prim-And-Proper Prefect would do? And you know what? The fact is your best friend is a decent student who has yet to break any rule this school year, unless you call picking up a potion textbook with helpful side notes purely by chance a misdemeanor as seriously as cheating."

"Oh Harry!" Hermione put her head in her hands, "I was scared…"

Harry was having fun in teasing his best friend. "Pardon me! What were you saying?"

"Oh Harry! I said 'I was scared'. It could easily have been another Riddle's diary, Harry."

His evil grin dropped immediately. His best friend still nuzzled her head in her hands, her voice muffled, yet Harry could hear every single word, the name "Riddle" ringing loud in his ears. Of course, Hermione is always concerned about his safety. She can never take it easy, unless Riddle vanishes from the world forever.

Hermione still hadn't looked up yet, and Harry started to wonder how she could breathe. He was afraid that he might have gone too far this time. There wasn't any sound of crying, but thick silence didn't make him feel any better. Hermione's tears would taste salty in his throat, cutting through his heart, and the thought of her crying filled him with alarm. Unable to wait any longer, Harry tentatively touched her shoulder lightly, hoping to relieve any physical tension afflicting her delicate body. He pleaded with his best friend. "Hermione…C'mon! Hermione…please look at me!" his voice broke, "Please…Hermione! I am sorry!"

There was neither reply nor reaction from his best friend and his stomach sunk low to a deep abyss. He was so scared that he had screwed up, and the idea of him being the reason of her tears struck his mind like heavy bricks, obstructing all tunnels of plans and capabilities to think clearly. One hand grazing her shoulder, his free hand scraped vigorously at his scalp, trying to search his sluggish brain for a way to comfort his best friend. Most of the time, Harry survived thanks to his intuition, so he chose to act entirely on impulse. Without missing a beat, he swept her thick brown hair aside, and blew hard in her ears.

Hermione jerked her head up, accidentally bumping his nose. That part didn't include in his original plan, but Harry was more than gratified that he could finally look into her eyes, completely dry with a flash of panic, her lips bearing red marks from being bitten too hard, stray hair falling haphazardly around her face. Getting excited about paying her back, he rubbed his nose and groaned in fake pain.

"Oh my God! Harry! Did I hurt you? Harry? You 're okay?" Hermione sounded very worried.

Concern in her voice felt so sweet that the temptation to revel in her attention overrode any modicum of his honesty. He touched his nose gingerly, in the pretense of complaining with a brief glance at her to see her reaction. "Ouch, Hermione, I think you broke my nose."

"Oh no! What have I done?" she moaned, presumably stopping for silent self-reproach, but then turned to Harry, "Can't be that bad, Harry! Let me check on your nose!"

Harry flinched, realizing she would find out, "Er…no, it's alr—"

"Nonsense! I read some healing spells, I can fix your nose in no time!" insisted Hermione, her voice firm.

Before Harry could say anything to save his dignity, his best friend was already hovering over him, proceeded to examine his face closely. She was so close that he could feel her warmth, a faint scent of parchment and sweet lily fragrance wafting into his senses. Hermione was searching his face, her fingers trailing his scar, brushing his cheeks softly. If he was in awe of the gentle and loving way Hermione treasured books before, he was left numb with sheer pleasure by the sublime tenderness of Hermione's touch at that moment. Harry really wanted to remember why she was fondling his face, but he had trouble focusing on anything other than her hypnotic featherlight touches.

He found himself drowned in her deep dark eyes, which fixed on his nose, or dared he hope, his mouth. Harry could feel she inched closer, her hands running through his hair. His cheeks felt hot, his heart thumped wildly in his chest with the idea that something he had been yearning for so long was about to happen. He fluttered his eyes closed, and dipped his head, her lips printed on his retina. However, life was more inclined to blowing up in his face than Harry expected. Instead of the wonderful sensation he waited to explode on his hungry lips, he felt a sharp pinch on his nose, forcing an involuntary yelp of pain out of his throat. Hermione stood up, brushing dusts off her knees, giving him an impish smile.

"Serves you right, Mr Potter! You dared trick me! I just showed you what miss prim-and-proper prefect could do, even to the high-and-mighty Chosen one." said Hermione, a note of triumph in her voice.

His best friend looked directly at him, a sweet smile stretched on her face, mischief dancing in her brown orbs. Harry was too amused to feel vexed at all. Her bright aura of slyness and buoyancy was worth some trivial pain anyway. He was not certain why, but he was full of inspirations for humor tonight. He had gotten far beyond the point of stopping to think before doing. If she wanted to play, then he would.

Harry flung himself at his best friend, impetuously ruffling her hair for the sake of feeling her thick, soft brown curls in his hands. He then started to tickle her in the ribs, said in a mock glare. "Oh yeah? High-and-mighty, huh? Let's see if you can escape this time, you little minx!"

Hermione gave shrieks of surprise, trying to run away, but Harry was faster. He pressed her to the cold ground, smirking down at her, wordlessly declaring final victory. His best friend stuck her tongue at him, refusing to give in. She laughed between sputtering, "Harry! Oh Harry!" while wriggling under his strong hold, struggling to get up. The way she said his name was filled with such endearment that her voice felt like wings for his name to fly. Her tinkling laugh, harmonizing with mirthful laughter of his own, filled the quiet corridor with liveliness and warmth. Together, their laughter was cuddled in the embrace of the murmurs of chilling breezes outside, soothing the aggressive whomping willows, whose whistles reverberated the secret tunnel to the Shrieking shack. Mother Nature saved one more ordeal for the couple before being able to give them the best of blessings.

Meanwhile, Harry Potter was unaware of his predestined gift, he fastened his eyes on the laughing girl trapped under him, feeling a swell of affection in his heart. Everything about Hermione, her pink face framed with bushy hair, her sparkling brown eyes, her magical aura vitalized with cheerful laughter, aroused an intense longing inside Harry, and he felt a pressing urge to touch her, more gently, more lovingly than she did, if possible. Like Harry, Hermione was no longer laughing, but looking intently at him, seemingly not noticing he had released her arms.

The corridor soon fell into a calming silence, except for some intangible whispers sounding like Hermione's soft voices in his ears. Harry stroked her hair fondly, then started to cradle her face in his hands, yet before he could go any further, a thunderclap roared in the sky above, prompting him to instinctively swoop down and shield her with his body. He could hear his best friend gasp loudly, her breath hot into his chest, her scents making him heady, but Harry, still on alert, held his breath to listen to any pending danger, while gripping Hermione's hand tightly, trying to reassure her that everything would be alright, that he would be here to protect her.

Thunderclaps were followed by a torrential downpour, putting a curtain of silver rain at the porch opening up to the Clock Tower courtyard. Harry and Hermione lied on the dusty ground, intertwined, he holding her, she clutching at him, for a full three minutes, feeling each other's body warmth and waiting for the threat that never came. Though Harry already knew there was nothing more to the thunderclaps than a mild thunderstorm, he was very reluctant to pull away, scared of the awkwardness ensuing this inappropriate closeness between "best friends"

"What the bloody hell are you doing?" said a voice familiar from the staircases.

Harry inwardly groaned, his stomach sinking lower than the ground beneath them. He would recognize the voice everywhere, yet he was rather disturbed since the voice had taken a furious tone.

Stress, however unpleasant and repugnant, could bring out golden qualities in people, and that how tension and trepidation worked with the chosen one and the brightest witch of the age. Together, they made an excellent team, complementing each other perfectly like different beats in a rhythm, like various melodies in a harmony. Thus, they appeared a tangle of messy hair and rumpled clothes on the ground, yet no one could catch their shared look of startling recognition, their last hand squeeze, and their single nod in unison before they both jumped up in attacking stance, Harry standing protectively in front of Hermione, who surreptitiously pulled his wand out of his pocket and quietly handed it to him, just in case. The intruder had hardly taken a full step down the stairs when the pair was standing poised in the dull light, without any trace evidence of previous uncompromising acts.

Harry looked up to see his other best friend make painfully slow step towards them, a deathly glower beneath his bangs, his face turning beet-red, which looked like blotchy mud in the dark. Harry made a mental note to practice silent breathing if he didn't want to betray nervousness when facing his enemies in the future. Not until his hand could reach behind and touch Hermione's fingertips did he exhale slowly, a tad too noisily for his liking.

"It's not like what you think, mate" said Harry half-heartedly.

Harry was not certain what Ronald Weasley should be thinking, he basically said what came first to mind to buy some time, before, he hoped, his brilliant Hermione showed some tricks up her sleeves. He felt a necessity to explain to the redhead what had driven them to the somewhat unfitting position when he found them. He did a mental double-check on the past events of that night to see if they had crossed any line, and a lump was caught in his throat when he realized that them being together, Harry and Hermione, felt so right that there had never been a line to begin with. The ethereal string connecting them only grew solid with time. There were only nonexistent obstacles in the mind, yet hearts had beats of their own, always waiting to join their missing beats to form their rhythm and sing their unique melody, which would eventually destroy all the barriers imposed on the mind.

Harry had inadvertently done what he advised Ginevra, setting his heart free to find its home, and he did in Hermione's heart. Tonight, the most surreal thing happened in his life. Tonight, the fireflies had guided him to her; the wind had picked up, feeding the smoldering embers, lighting up the fire of burning desire within him; the cool fresh rain had eased the scorching bitterness in his heart, yet the most beautiful thing about tonight was Hermione, the girl who held the keys of the rhythm in his heart. His entire being was held spellbound within the melody of the most powerful word, which he dared not name yet, but could fathom to its core and cherish with all his heart, mind and soul.

"I don't think! I saw it with my own eyes. I can't believe you two have been going behind my back," spat Ron, his hands curling in tight fists.

To Ronald Weasley's indignation, Harry didn't seem to listen, but turned back to the girl behind him. He swallowed loudly before allowing him to look deeply into her brown orbs, and drink in every features of her face. The wretched unreadable emotions were there, but he thought he could grasp it this time, and he was totally captivated with that swirling mysterious depth. Her full lips seemed to hold a magnetic power to his dry ones. Harry automatically shut his eyes and leaned in with every intention to claim her lips with his.

Nevertheless, Hermione suddenly grabbed both of his hands, her soft eyes sending him a message to wait until they settled things with Ron. Despite a twinge of disappointment in his heart, he nodded his agreement and let go, but not before kissing their joined hands quickly. Hermione sent him a consoling look before stepping forwards and facing a furious-looking Ron.

"What we do is none of your business, Ronald. We are under no obligation to explain to you every single activity we participate in, every single party we attend, every joke we share, or every conversation we exchange!" Hermione was standing akimbo, a gleam of impudence in her eyes, her face getting as red as Ron's. She thrust a finger at him, her voice breaking with pure anger "Don't you dare accuse us of keeping secrets from you, and don't…don't you dare belittle the purity of our friendship!"

Hermione was panting heavily after her tirade. Ron looked aghast, his face tinted with a fresh layer of crimson, no longer from blind jealousy, but from mortification. The end of Hermione's verbal assault looked down to the ground, raised his hand as if to reach for the brown-haired witch in front of him, and said weakly. "Mione, dear! I just…I really want to tell that I—"

"Won-Won! Won-Won? Where are you, honey?" called a female voice, also from the same direction which Ron arrived.

His mouth still hung open in mid-speech, Ronald Weasley was caught off guard yet again, his brows unknitting, directing his question to Hermione, who simply shrugged in similar state of cluelessness, but expected the answer to come up soon. Right on cue, hurried footsteps were heard before a voluptuous girl in two big plaits, lavender headband and hoop earrings of the same color being her only accessories, raced towards the redhead, turning his shoulders roughly to her and hugging him tight. She rubbed his chest, her eyes sweeping from there upward and downward as if to check whether he was still whole. The girl brushed his cheeks lightly before smooching him full on the lips, leaving a dazed expression on Ron's face. She chirped. "Won-Won, I've been looking all over the place for you! See? I ve bought this new dress that I want to wear just for you. I know you'll love it, a perfect blend of flaming red and copper, just like the shade of your smashing hair." She then grazed his hair, a look of adoration and pride in her round eyes.

"Lav-Lav, honey! I don't th—" Ron found his voice for the first time only to be cut off.

"Harry! Hermione! How long have you been standing there?" The girl looked genuinely surprised to see they had been having audience.

"Hi, Lavender!" Hermione said airily, biting her lower lip to suppress laughing at the two lovebirds. "You should ask your Won-Won over there. Harry and I've just returned from the Slug club party, and we've been hanging around here to…well, you know,… chat for a little while until he came."

Lavender mouthed an "Oh" before facing her boyfriend, "Merlin's Mercy! Won-Won, so our Gin-Gin might have already waited for us in the common room. We gotta come back, quick!" Catching the confusion on Ron's face, she gushed, "Our baby sister, honey! She and Dean just broke up this afternoon. The guy was in a right state, I daresay. Oh, our poor little Gin-Gin must be very upset now." She laid her head on Ron's shoulder, tugging at his arm, sounding rather concerned, "Won-Won! Let's go! We need to be there for her."

Still, Ronald Weasley didn't move an inch. He looked slightly unnerved towards Hermione's direction, silently asking the bright young witch for some way out. Taking a hint from her boyfriend's behavior, Lavender asked her dorm mate, "Hermione! Harry! Are you guys coming back too? It's sorta late now."

Hermione took a glance at Harry, who was curiously silent even with this interesting turn of events, and received nothing but a blank stare. Dismay surged in her eyes, but she kept her expression neutral, turning back to the couple, giving another nonchalant shrug. "I guess…you two just go ahead." She added almost as an afterthought, "…and good luck with Ginny!"

"Sure, thank you, Hermione!" Lavender said brightly, "You should be there for her too. Our Gin-Gin considers you her best friend." She snuggled closer to her boyfriend, her hand holding his waist, speaking smoothly, "but you guys just take your time. Won-Won and I can take care of this. We are leaving now, bye you two!" She started to pull the redhead up the stairs more persistently, getting impatient with his hesitation. Lavender put her arms around his neck, stared up at him and said in a markedly sultry voice. "Be a good boy, honey! I have a prize for you tucked underneath my pillows." That did the trick at last. The redhead nodded decisively.

"See you, mate! Mione! We'll definitely talk later!" Ron looked pointedly at his best friends, warning of future encounters, and then disappeared into the dark stairs, without getting so much as a small wave from Hermione. Soon, only heavy footsteps and random calls sounding like 'Lav-Lav, honey! Wait for me!' echoed through the cracked walls of Hogwarts.

Hermione let out a short laugh that she had been holding since the interruption of two lovebirds. With a slight shake of her head, she settled back to her place on the step, looking out into the courtyard, "Woa, Harry! It's still raining." She put on Harry's coat, which was lying forgotten in the dusty ground, feeling warm and cozy. "Harry? Why are you standing there? Come here! Aren't you cold? Wizard coats are huge, let's share, shall we?"

The raven-haired wizard moved mechanically to his best friend, lingering behind her, one hand hovering above her shoulder, yet withdrawing after few seconds of consideration. He sat heavily on the step, within a noticeably larger distance than previously.

"I'm fine! Keep it," said Harry gruffly.

Hermione winced slightly, sensing something wrong. She took a glimpse of Harry, who appeared to be staring at the large weeping lady stained glass, his emerald eyes void of emotion. Yet, upon closer scrutiny, she could tell he was looking beyond the colorful glass material, his vision seeking the night sky outside, penetrating the thick black dome to unravel the answers to burning questions underneath his cold green veils.

The raindrops pattering on the stone ceiling was playing a serene lullaby, wrapping them both in a comforting aura of security and tranquility. She could feel his rhythmical breathing, accompanied with her own. Peaceful quietness between them, Harry and Hermione, only they could hear. Hermione hugged Harry's coat closer to her body, breathing in his scents, relishing the feel of being near him.

Silence could only be stretched for so long, though. She briefly reminisced the enjoyable nights filled with laughter and joy, and something almost palpable in the air, something that stirred a sensation both delightfully nervous and comfortably warm within her. She enjoyed the restful silence, yet she also missed his voice, and his laughs. She decided to exploit her limited reservoir of humor and have some good fun with him before they came back to the common room.

"Won-Won, Lav-Lav, Gin-Gin, did you notice, Harry? Sounds like a nice start for a big happy family. What do you think they would call their future generation?" snickered Hermione.

Harry only grunted his agreement. In fact, he was so immersed in his thoughts that he didn't follow any conversation going on among his friends. No sooner had he felt quite proud of Hermione's resolution in their defense to Ron than her enunciation of the single word "friendship" felt like thunders blasting in his ears, piercing his eardrums, shattering his heart into million pieces. Those shards were buried in his flesh, afflicting excruciating agony all over his body. His heart was bleeding profusely, yet it was forced to keep beating, With each heartbeat, Harry felt like someone was punching his chest hard, knocking breath out of his lungs. His idiocy betrayed him to the point of losing every ounce of faith and hope. He had thought he had felt an unmistakable current between them, irresistible gravitation between them, and there was no space between them, but for their warm breath, and the melody of their harmonized heartbeats, yet now he could see an immense ocean that would drown him if he tried to swim to her side.

Tonight, he had been over the moon only to be tossed back to his dark pit of heartaches, this time manifoldly worse. The way she said "friendship" with all honesty and conviction sliced into his opened wounds, leaving him paralyzed with utter despair and dejection. In Harry's mind eyes, he was fumbling blindly for Hermione, yet she turned away, reaching out for a certain redhead, so he would keep backing in unmitigated consternation until he slipped his foot and fell off a bottomless cliff, dying in total heartbreak. His soul was wailing in protest with the vision of her touching the redhead lovingly and bestowing on him her passionate kisses that Harry could only imagine in his deepest, darkest dreams.

Harry had thought tonight was the night he finally saw the quintessence of the most magical power in the world, and the first official acknowledgement of something he had been denying against his wish proved to be stronger than a "Stupefy" spell, and sweeter and more therapeutic than Honeydukes chocolate. Nevertheless, before he could truly savor it, happiness was mercilessly sucked out of his soul as if he had been kissed by Dementors.

Harry was so consumed with yearnings for the girl who kept his heart that he felt almost impossible to go back to normal, playing a perfect "best friend" of hers without coveting more. Although he was so tempted to close off the outside world and curl up in the cocoon of his own self-pity, Harry was still extremely sensitive to her presence, her voice, and her aura of peace and comfort.

Out in the courtyard was the obsidian night enfolded in a drape of cool fresh rain, and Harry faintly heard Hermione humming a soothing lullaby. Though divested of motherly cares and bedtime lullabies, Harry could tell the song was a lullaby, and a familiar one no less, since he could hum along in his mind and describe it in the heavenly tenderness of only Hermione's voices. Harry tried to relive memorable moments of their friendship over the past six years, allowing him to envision Hermione singing that lullaby to him when he was asleep or bedridden in the hospital wing, when a sad smile perched in his eyes, forming ripples of tender longing and fondness on the otherwise still green surface.

He felt rather than saw Hermione was shivering in the cold. His heart quivered with a renewed longing to stay close to her and take care of her, even only as a friend. Harry was trying to retrieve the strength he used to possess to maintain his feelings within platonic confines.

"You are thinking of G-ginny." Hermione said bluntly.

She was looking straight at Harry, but quickly turned away when he returned the look, trying to catch her eyes. Her dead quiet voice was drowned in the heavy rain outside, yet it fell softly against his ears, the cold green ice in his eyes breaking, his brain sober, his heart going out to the fragile girl next to him.

"What are you talking about, Hermione?" said Harry, his voice as gentle as the rustling of winter leaves.

"Ginny, she just broke up with Dean, you heard, Harry. I…I really don't think she would be upset like Lavender said. I guess she might be overjoyed, honestly. She stands a chance now, Harry, I see it…" Hermione wasn't looking at him, she appeared to doodle something on the ground with her forefinger. Harry was quite confused, yet before he could tell her to clarify, she continued, her voice quavering, "…don't you know, Harry…a chance to win your…heart."

Bewilderment was etched onto Harry's face. Ginevra's breakup was certainly news to him, but it was really nothing of a shock or anything, considering the redhead was popular with boys and has been dating around. Harry couldn't understand what the relationship btw Ginevra and Dean had to do with him, and how his best friend talked about his heart so carelessly. He was silently voicing his questions to all of his magical ancestors, Who in the blazes put such a silly thought in Hermione's head, and what come of winning his heart? No chance in hell! Harry projected his thoughts directly into words, "You see not a bloody thing, Hermione!"

Hermione shook her head, but she seemed to be absorbed in her own musings, "I saw you enjoying a good time with Ginny at the party, Harry. You know what, the thing with Dean and Ginny is just a façade, a mere preparatory step in a bigger plan…" She hesitated briefly before droning on. "I…I kinda lied to you, Harry. I said Ginny was over you in 5th year. The truth is she's always fancied you…and honestly, Harry, you have no idea how miserable Ginny was, pining after you. She even asked me for advice. Can you imagine that, Harry? The stunning Ginevra Weasley came to a plain bookworm like me for help with boy problems… I mean, I've never had a decent boyfriend before, but well, for you, I will, Harry, if possible, I tried to support her. Honestly, I didn't really consult any books on dating advice, I simply told her to act like herself, to get to know the real you, just Harry , not some hero who lived, or wizarding world savior, or the damn chosen one, yeah, just Harry. Honestly, things have gone more smoothly than I expected. Now that Dean is out, nothing prevents you anymore, Harry…and if I really think about it, definitely, yes, I am actually genuinely honestly happy for you and...Ginny…" Hermione was babbling, and she seemed to stop just to breathe preparing for another nonstop speech, "…and Har—"

"Happy?" Harry gave a squeak of outrage

Unable to look at her, he leapt up on his feet and started to pace up and down the open corridor, muttering all cussing words he knew, but his anger was still more blazing than ever. Chilling rain seeped into the air, giving goose bumps on his arms, yet his inside was a seething hot tumult. He felt like kicking the walls, breaking the stained glass, beating up someone. Otherwise, he would explode with all these suppressed feelings, which have been simmering in his cauldron since he had his first potion lesson, but now were forced to vanish with a flick of Snape's wand. Pains were pressing him from all directions, trapping him in the vicious circle of pretense and craving, of resentment and hurt, of fury and despair.

As famous a hero as he was, Harry had his own insecurities and doubts. With the magical bonding between him and Hermione shining through his gloomy life, he had thought her friendship was more precious than any romantic attachment, yet when smothered desire flared up tonight, he let his heart listen to its own beats and felt the essence of their bonding. Harry was determined to hold on to it without reservation. Then dejection crashed down on him, heartache was camouflaged in uncontrolled rage, which Harry found, out of habit, much easier to handle, by heedlessly channeling it to a different compartment. The Gryffindor lion in Harry was roaring in protest, breaking his cage, and clamoring for freedom. He made the decision to get everything off his chest tonight, whatever the outcome. He stopped pacing immediately, rushed towards Hermione, who looked a little frightened, and raised his arm in surrender.

"You don't know how I feel!" Harry growled. His best friend cringed, concern and fear swimming in her eyes, but he ignored it, carrying on in blind tantrum and wounded pride, stressing every single word, daring her to deny "I repeat, Hermione, you know not a bloody thing how I feel!" His saying it to her only made it feel more real, Harry wasn't so much asking her as wondering by himself out loud, his voice dripped with bitterness. "Who gave you the right to play matchmaker for me, Hermione? Am I that desperate to you, Hermione, that you see the need to pair me up with a random witch from the pool of Hogwarts students?"

Hermione looked near tears. She also stood up, wringing her hands together in desperation. She then bravely looked at him, remorse and hurt evident in her eyes, something like a spark of hope churning beneath her brown irises. Her voice trembled. "I…I just…want you to be…happy, H-harry."

With a single look into her eyes, Harry felt his anger wane as if someone had just poured cold water from the top of his head, Of course, Hermione always acted in his best interests, but had no idea that she inadvertently broke his heart this time. He could read hurt in her eyes, and he felt his were also burning with tears. She looked so vulnerable that he longed to just forget everything and hold her in his arms like "her best friend Harry" had done many times. Still, he knew he'd better keep his distance since he wasn't sure what he was capable of doing when he reached her any closer, given that only looking at her eyes stirred desires within him. The selfish part of him was writhing in intense yearning, urging him to just pour out his heart, while his selfless part was quite reluctant to cause her any more distress and confusion. Like most of the time, he found himself leaning on his selfish voice. Harry couldn't help but feel very wishful, thinking he might regret, someday, not telling her truthfully what he felt.

"And you think I could be happy with Ginny, Hermione?" He didn't know how he could keep his emotion in check, but he did, at least to his capacity. He was opening his heart to her, and that made it feel lighter in his chest. "a Ginny, our best friend's sister; a Ginny, who has supposedly held a huge crush on me since 2nd year, giving me an embarrassing Valentine card; a Ginny, who was a good ally in the Department of Ministry Battle in 5th year; a Ginevra Weasley, who is pretty popular among boys this year. Is that it, Hermione, within more than 5 years since I first met her? I cannot know less about Ginny, and she can never see beyond my bloody titles, you said so yourself…" Harry heaved a heavy sigh of despondency before speaking again, his voice now hoarse with emotion, "…and here I am thinking you know me best, Hermione. I always believe that you are the only one who knows the real me, the real Harry…" He fell silent, his throat feeling parched with unsaid feelings,"…but perhaps I am wrong… What am I in your eyes, Hermione? Do you honestly think that love could come easily to me?" He gave a humorless chuckle, "do you honestly assume that I prefer athletic, popular girls to plain ones, Hermione?"

Hermione put her hands to her mouth, muffling some interjection he couldn't make out. Color drained from her face, she looked downright faint with shock, "Oh no, Harry, I—"

"No, Hermione, let me finish first!" Harry was unaware that he had been staring at her the whole time, but he felt a sharp jolt of electricity running through him upon seeing rays of hope shot from her eyes to his. He knew if he let go now, he might never have the chance again, so he unwittingly raised his hand to stop her before she could say anything to daunt his determination. However, he was painfully reminded that an unplanned confession was considerably less likely to end well. He had no idea how butterflies could find their way to his stomach amidst late night rain.

He found himself stammering, while on the inside cursing his stupidity again. "Er… the thing is …I…uhm…Herm…well, you see…uhm…oh Bugger!"

Hermione was focusing on him, and he felt quite exasperated, suddenly finding his self-pity party a little bit easier than facing a girl who had his heart at her mercy. He flicked his eyes to the ground, for the first time wishing he had read the "Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches" that Ron lent him. Right that moment, his eyes caught something on the ground, something like the inverted image of his name encircled in a heart-shaped line, Hermione's doodle! Startling realization made his heart skip a beat. He looked up at her, and he could sense she was wordlessly giving him the answer, listen to his heart. His emerald eyes brighter than ever, transfixed upon her pale face, Harry spoke in a deep yet clear tone. "Hermione, if you must know, I did actually manage to have a bearable time reasoning with Ginny. I know she fancies me, but I candidly let her know that I cannot return her feelings, but I didn't tell her why. Do you have any idea why, Hermione?"

She simply looked at him, encouraging him to go on. Tension increased in the chilly air, but Harry felt rather confident, his heart resounding with certainty. "I think you do, Hermione. You can always read my mind after all…" He looked at her truthfully with all longing and affection in his eyes, his voice slightly cracking, "… Because I have willingly, totally, irrevocably given my heart to someone else, and no one, no one, least of all, you, Hermione, you, can force me to take it back."

Harry felt a great sense of contentment in his peaceful heart, which finally could openly pledge itself to its owner. He gave Hermione a genuine smile of sincerity, devotion, and perfect serenity. Harry saw tears roll down her cheeks, and a shy, nervous smile painted on her rosy face. The unreadable emotion finally unveiled, her calm lake breaking in swirling sentiments, all of which engulfed his heart in a warm fire and filled his soul with the familiar lullaby in Hermione's sweet voice.

Harry knew that he had said enough, he turned to the weeping lady stained glass, waiting for her answer, though he already had a hunch, for her magical aura surrounded him with passion and gratification. His gaze falling upon the stained glass in front of him, Harry took some time to admire the divine piece of art.

Those skulls under the old lady's cape were convulsing in grief and contrition, apparently praying for salvation, while a halo was glowing around her silver hair, a solitary twinkling golden star on the top of the glass. He supposed the lady cried for worldly evils, and her tears would redeem their sins. It dawned on him in another epiphany that it wasn't fury, physical strength, hatred or vengeance that would destroy evils, but monstrosity should be absolved with the power of love, the power the Dark Lord knows not. The old lady's halo was similar to Hermione's aura of goodness and beauty, in which he had bathed since he first met her. All of a sudden, Harry saw her reflection in the celestial stained glass. Starkly and warmly shinning is his beautiful Hermione, his guardian angel! Simultaneously with his sacred awakening, a pair of slender arms snaked around his waist.

"I love you, Harry! I, too, willingly, totally, and irrevocably love you, Harry. Oh Harry!"

Laying one cheek on his back, Hermione hugged him tight from behind, and she sang the most divine lullaby to his ears. Harry covered her arms with his, cherishing the warmth of her behind him. He thought about this before, and now he could eventually feel it with all his heart, physical intimacy between them felt like the most natural thing in the world, just like the sun rose in the East and set in the West. Harry had envisioned this moment, surmising he would feel extremely thrilled or stunned in incredulous ecstasy, and once it came with the unique tenderness and love of his Hermione, he did feel all of those feelings he had anticipated. What he didn't think of was a heavenly sense of familiarity and peace enveloping him and his girl. Thus, he felt as if Hermione had professed her love to him the same way since forever. If his name could fly with her voice before, her utterance of his name now brought him to a paradise free of worry and pain, surrounded with holy winged angels, his heart filled with purity and magnanimity and altruism and love, perfect epitome of love, since hostility, bitterness, grudge, and hurt were all lifted from his soul, and salvaged by the divinity of this heaven, Harry and Hermione's heaven!

He noticed the weeping lady no longer cried, her last tears already shed, leaving a contented, tranquil look on her face instead of the previous doleful expressions. He felt naked under her stare. Her amber eyes winked at him, sending him blessings from heaven.

The bell in his heart chimed, It is time. After smiling radiantly at the weeping lady, Harry slowly turned back to the love of his life. He was enthralled to see her thick curls were glowing with myriad fireflies again, a bright smile blossoming on her roseate lips. She was the picture of beauty in his eyes. Harry gently grazed her soft cheeks, pouring admiration and love into her brown orbs with his gaze. He smoothly clasped her hand on his waist and slowly guiding it to his left chest, where lay his revived heart, whispering to her in a statement rather than a question, "You know."

"I do." Hermione whispered back, her eyes glistening with happy tears, "I do, Harry. That's the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me!"

Harry could tell his heart was rejoicing at her touch. Enchanted by her luminous hair, he tenderly tucked a stray tress behind her ear, his fingers tracing along the curve of her chin. He said in a husky voice that he couldn't recognize was his own, "That means you will not return it, ever, Miss Granger?"

"Never can you have it back, Mr Potter! It's mine now!" Hermione murmured, her soft voice embracing his senses snugly, engendering a wondrous floating sensation. She put her arms around his neck, while he laced his hands on the small of her back, pressing her closer to him. Hermione looked up at him, swinging her hair playfully, fireflies braiding a sparkling crown on her brown curls, dazzling beams of exuberance and pleasure on her face, and he was unequivocally bewitched by everything about her radiant face and her ravishing hair, yet what struck him hardest, holding him in absolute rapture, and filling his heart with a magical aura of euphoria were blazes of faithfulness and truthfulness in her beautiful eyes.

Still in a trance, he shook her hair lightly, and watched flecks of golden light resting on her breast in morbid fascination. Unadulterated desires clawed mercilessly in his demanding chest, his hand itching to touch her luscious skin, his mouth watering for saccharine tastes of her inviting lips, heat pooling from his aching lust onto his entire being, melting the chills in the air, rousing him from his torpid state. Harry dazedly removed one hand from her waist, instantly missing its warm softness, to touch her lower lips. Her breath tickled his fingers, and he was lulled further to caress the smooth, succulent, moist curve, his mind challenging anything to stop him from kissing her, there was nothing, nothing, nothing that can take her away from him, redheads, Riddle, or even punishment from heaven.

He gently cupped her face in his hands, staring into her eyes to find the love there, and slowly brought his lips down towards hers. He saw Hermione flutter her long eyelashes closed before he shut his eyes. Their lips touched and Harry Potter knew something warmer than fire, sweeter than chocolates and more divine than heaven, the most incredible, ethereal and exquisite sensation bursting from his lips on hers.

"Hermione, my love!" Harry rasped, his heart exploding with pure bliss at the sound of her name in his voice, thick with passion and desires. He could feel her smile on his lips, teasing them with pleasant tingles. It felt like their lips were charged with strong magnetism, and he could do nothing but kiss her again, more gently, lingeringly and thoroughly, relishing a plethora of flavors of Hermione's lips. She tasted indescribably splendid, richer, lusher than treacle tart, mingled with the heady scent of pinewood and delicious, soothing, sweet lily. He kept pressing his lips tenderly to hers and simply savoring their kisses. Their breath merged, and their heartbeats married in the rhythmic pulsation of love. The kisses ended as tenderly as they began. Their eyes were locked together in what seemed like an eternity, utterly loving smiles on their faces only for each other.

Magical fireflies enclosed the two lovers in a globe of golden amorous radiance, specks of gold highlighting Harry's black hair, fireflies hovering around his round-rimmed glasses. He blinked while Hermione gave a lilting laugh, her flushed cheeks illuminated with fireflies' light, and brilliance, wisdom and fortitude radiating from her golden halo, Hermione Granger, the girl he loves, the one who has always been staying by his side in his battle for the Light, the one who is guiding him in his impending ventures with her ingenuity, the one who is giving him the greatest power to conquer and pardon evils with her devotion and love. Hermione Granger, the reason for him to fight, not with hatred and vindication, but with his power to love, and survive the final battle to give her all the happiness she deserves.

Never had Harry felt more confident of his strength, not only physical resilience but also his willpower and the vehemence in his heart, than when he looked at the vision before his eyes, his Hermione. There was absolute certitude written in her enchanting eyes, and dictated by destiny that victory belonged to the Light, and he would live to wake up in Hermione's arms every morning, to build a happy, peaceful home with her, to watch their kids grow up and find happiness of their own. Harry knew then their love was forever.

"Hermione, my angel!"Harry barely let out his guttural voice before crashing his lips down on hers again, this time with an explosion of burning desires. Hermione was tiptoeing, her hands buried in his messy hair, and her lips kissing hungrily on his in desperate passion. The couple melded in one entity, flesh to flesh, skin to skin, mouth to mouth, their souls connected, their heart bonded.

Harry whipped her around, pressing her body to the weeping lady stained glass, not waiting a second to devour her lips. He didn't stop to think the glass surface could be very cold, yet it wasn't much of significance, since he could tell she was feeling extremely warm. Her body heat was transferred to him, and he couldn't taste anything other than the raving erotic passion. He felt as if they had been waiting to kiss each other senseless for too long, and now all those strangled desires, once released, burst forth with fierce demands to be gratified. Bitterness, hurt, and dejection added fuel to the flame of feral desires to make up for all past heartaches.

Harry felt he could never get enough of her, and the more he had her, the more he wanted her. He trailed kisses around her earlobes, down the sensuous curve of her neck, ejecting gasps of his name from her mouth. He impatiently tugged her maroon ribbon away, hastily unbuttoned her collar, revealing her creamy skin and the tip of a faintly red scar from the purple hex, just above her cleavage, and brushed his lips urgently against her chest, blinded with another outburst of possessiveness and steamy desires.

Harry was indulging himself in the temptation to consummate this savage passion until her heartbeats resonated in his ear, vigorous, loud and wild, pounding in her chest. Hermione's heartbeats were the most amazing rhythms Harry's ever heard, and he reveled in the feel of her vitals, of the missing half of his heart. He looked in her brown eyes glazed with passion, sending her a smile of utmost marvel, his emerald lake similarly glassy. He gently placed his lips on her forehead, utter fulfillment permeating their interwoven magical aura.

"I love you, Hermione, my everything!" Harry's venerable avowal of his love for Hermione rolled off his tongues as if he had been saying this numerous times, his voice holding such tenderness that the most solid guarding walls of Hogwarts had to vibrate, and the dozing portraits sighed happily in their dreams. Hermione gazed at him affectionately, her eyes shining with tears, her lips swollen red from his assault, while tears were also unknowingly leaking from his green irises. She grazed the top of his head lightly, and tiptoed to kiss his scar fully, her warm lips lingering on the red blemish, nullifying the malice festering beneath that rough skin.

"Oh Harry, my Harry!" exclaimed Hermione.

"I'm yours, my Hermione! All of me is yours," professed a voice from Harry's heart, filled with total felicity and pure love. He wrapped his arms around her waist, she nuzzled her head in the crook of his shoulders, and they hugged each other tight like the two best friends had always done before, except for this time, nothing hampered their true desires and ardent passion. Accordingly, Harry and Hermione were clinging to each other, the way two halves fitted to make an immaculate whole, the way they were always meant to be.

Harry gripped her firmly, squeezed her gently and breathed in her heavenly scents. Both melted in an inseparable embrace.

Outside in the courtyard, the last raindrops had trickled from open gashes engraved on the indigo carpet, cleansing the earth of ungodly filth, leaving a crisp, fresh and clean atmosphere settling on Hogwarts ground. Fluffy grey billows of clouds idly stretched, revealing a silver sphere beaming down on the hugging couple through the transparent stained glass. Innumerable diamond dots winked at one another, setting a date for their annual rendezvous at enigmatic constellations. The sparkling carpet was already embellished with a luminescent heart woven with thousands of magical fireflies, proclaiming the triumph of true love in a burning golden heart-shaped fire upon the peaceful night sky. Inside the open corridor, two lovers tightened their hold, ravenous for each other's warmth and love, oblivious of animated congratulations from both the terrestrial and celestial worlds.

Meanwhile, far away, under the ground of a ghastly churchyard, the warped form of what used to be Tom Riddle almost passed out in a sudden seizure of acute pain while enjoying his late supper. Out of nowhere coursed an overpowering force through the villain, threatening to pulverize all of evil spirits in him, an alien force that rendered him debilitated despite his potent magic. The most powerful dark wizard inhabiting the land of the living was getting quite alarmed, not to mention that he had been consistently having visions of his own demise caused by the same unknown nefarious force. His screams shook the entire underground building, "H-A-R-R-Y P-O-T-T-E-R!"

Needless to say, those hysterical screams didn't touch a hair on Potter's head. The bespectacled wizard was walking on air, in the arms of the girl he loved, at that moment. Harry Potter was united with the power the Dark Lord knows not after all!

a/n: Motive of this chapter is pave the way for Love, true love, soulmate connection, or whatever we call it nowadays, to become weapon against Voldermort.

Thank you for reading! ❤️