DISCLAIMER: I do not own these characters. They are all owned by J.K. Rowling, the only creative control I have is the plot.

Blurred Lines

Chapter Six: The Returned

Harry's POV

I slipped my glasses over my ears and slid my hands into my jeans pockets, watching as Hermione delicately dressed herself in a pair of close-fitting black jeans, thick grey socks and a long-sleeve blood red sweater.

"We've got to go," I said gently as I pulled my hands from my pockets and knelt down in front of her. I leaned forward, kissing her tenderly on the forehead and taking her shoulders into my hands. "I don't think Neville would have invaded our privacy like that if it weren't something deeply important." I sighed as I ran my hand through her hair.

"I know," she said as she pulled her eyes away from the floor to meet mine. "I know he wouldn't have done. "I just… I know why we have to go down there, Harry, but honestly I would rather die than have to face it."

"My love, don't ever tell me you would rather die," I told her as a tear dripped down her cheek. I wiped it away with my thumb, leaning forward to kiss her forehead once more. "I know why we need to go down there, darling, and I won't let a thing happen to you. I swear to you. I will be holding your hand the whole time, and I won't let go. Not for a second."

"I know," she nodded as more tears fell freely down her cheeks. "It's just… Harry… there's something that I haven't told you, and I am so ashamed that I haven't…" she bit her bottom lip and squeezed her eyes shut as her shoulders began to tremble, and then shake violently. She began to sob as I pulled her into my arms, falling into my lap. She wrapped her arms around me and hid her face between my neck and shoulder.

"Hermione, if it is upsetting you this much, you know I would never force you to tell me something that is causing you this much pain," I said softly as I rocked her back and forth. "At least not until it stopped hurting you so."

"I know, Harry, and I love you so much for it; for how much you respect me… But, Harry… I have to tell you. I haven't told anybody, and I can't keep it a secret anymore… not when… not when we have to go down there and face…" she took in a quick, short breath, "him," she finished, leaning her forehead against mine and hugging me as tight as her arms would allow.

"Darling, you can tell me anything," I told her as I hugged her tightly; fighting off my own tears to see her in so much pain. "And I was wrong before: if you are hurting this badly please, please tell me what it is that is making you hurt so much."

She pulled her forehead from mine and took in a deep, shaky breath as she fought to compose herself. "It's… it's about the night; the night it happened," she began weakly, looking down at my chest. "Harry… I… I remember all of it. Whatever he gave me, it wasn't enough to completely knock me out," I tensed, my nostrils flaring in anger as she went on, silent tears streaming down her cheeks as she bundled up handfuls of my shirt and tugged at me. "It was enough to make it so I couldn't move, and nearly enough to the point where I fell asleep – but it was like I was half awake, half dreaming…" she forced her eyes to meet mine as I controlled my breathing.

That bastard… that BASTARD raped my Hermione, and he didn't even drug her enough to the point where she wouldn't remember it: No, and it wasn't a bloody mistake, he knew what he was doing. He wanted her to remember it. He wanted to have her remember what he did to her, to remember how completely helpless and defenseless she was against him as he attacked her and held her down… He wanted her to remember for the rest of her life what he did to her, unable to do a thing to stop it.

"I could… I could feel everything: Every scratch, every bite, every pinch every… every movement. I could see him… staring at me, watching me… kissing me… telling me, telling me…

"He… he must not have given me enough of that drug, or, if he did, I only took one drink, so it was just enough so I wouldn't be able to do anything but, but Harry… Harry I remember it all – from the moment I took that first sip to the moment you carried me away to safety.

"I just… I wanted so badly to believe that I was dreaming; I wanted so badly to believe that it was just a horrible, horrible nightmare and that at any moment I might wake up from it. So when I asked you if it happened, if it was really true… I was lying to myself, telling myself it wasn't true – I couldn't believe that he would ever do such a thing to me. It's why I started screaming when Neville went to touch me, because it meant it was really true. And not just what… what… what… Ron did, but that McLaggen was there as well, watching, waiting for his own turn…

"And Harry," she said quickly, tears still running down her face as she pulled her eyes back up to meet mine and placing her hand over my cheek; her other through my hair. "Harry, no matter what you say or think, you did save me, Harry. You did protect me. If you hadn't come when you did Cormac would have done the same thing to me," I couldn't believe what she was saying. She was pouring her heart out to me, telling me that she remembered every horrible thing that had happened to her, yet here she was, stroking my hair and trying to comfort me.

No. No. I wouldn't have it. I wouldn't let her punish herself for this; wouldn't let her cast aside what happened to her by telling me I saved her because it didn't happen a second time.

I reached my hand up and pulled her hand away from my hair, easily grabbing her second wrist within the same hand and holding them between us. "Hermione, don't," I told her as I looked her firmly in the eye. "Don't thank me for anything. If I had just not been a coward in the first place and insisted we keep our relationship a secret none of this would have happened to you. But that is neither here nor there. Hermione, my darling, I love you," I told her, cupping my hand over her cheek.

"I love you too," she said as tears began to fall down her cheeks once more; pulling her wrist from my grasp and holding her hand over mine.

"Don't ever blame yourself for what happened, Hermione," I told her softly, wrapping my arm back around her to hold her. "Don't ever make light of what happened to you, or pretend it isn't as bad as it really is. Hermione, what happened to you should never happen to anyone; but especially not you. You are the most wonderful, smart, selfless, helpful, patient, loving, kind, and beautiful person there ever was or ever will be. So don't ever try to make me feel better about it, Hermione.

"I wasn't there to stop it before, but I. will. never let it or anything like it happen to you again. I am so sorry, Hermione, I am so sorry for what happened to you. I am devastated that you remember it, Hermione. I am absolutely heart broken and enraged that you remember it all; that it happened in the first place. And I will do whatever it takes to help you, to be your rock and your guide when you need it. I will hold you when you need to cry, and listen to you when you need to talk. I will always be here to kiss you, to tell you how deeply I am in love with you – how every day I fall more and more in love with you.

"How something so horrible can happen to you, and yet you see this pregnancy as the light in this darkness – that you don't blame the child, our child, but see them as something to love and to know that even in the darkest of times there are blessings."

"Why do you love me," she breathed, more as a statement than a question.

I furrowed my brows together, completely taken aback. "Why would you ever-"

"You are so amazing, Harry, and I am the luckiest girl in the world for you to have fallen in love with me, out of all the other girls out there."

"Hermione Jean Granger," I whispered as I ran my hand over her hair before pulling her and myself up off the ground. "Did you listen to nothing I just said to you…" I lifted her up and set her back onto my bed, gently nudging her backwards to lie down. I ran my hands over the top of her legs, starting at the tip of her toes and working my way all the way up to her thighs. I then took my hand and gently pushed up the base of her sweater, sliding it up her stomach to just a few inches above her belly button. I leaned my head down to her stomach and placed just below her belly button several long, soft, tender kisses. "You are my family," I told her softly, climbing up on the bed and hovering over her, running my hand over her hair and kissing her deeply on the lips. "Both of you," I told her, running my hand onto her stomach just where I had kissed it, and holding it there. She slid her hand over top of mine and turned her head to look at me; eyes filled with that love and adoration that I mirrored back at her every single day. "And I won't let anything or anyone hurt my family, not so long as breath leaves my lungs."

"Harry…" she breathed, leaning forward and kissing my lips, sliding her hand under my head and lacing her fingers into my hair. She opened her mouth, sliding her tongue against mine and pulling my head closer to hers, deepening our kiss still further. I wanted so badly to, no, needed to make love to her, right then, to show her how much I loved her, how much she meant to me, but knew that I couldn't, knew that we still needed to go face the reality outside of our little bubble we had created for each other.

Her breathing had deepened. She pulled her lips away from mine just long enough to tell me that she loved me; that she needed me – but just as I had needed her but knew that it was not the right time, Neville ran back into the room again, reminding us of that very fact. I slid Hermione's sweater back down over her stomach and took her head into both my hands, kissing her forehead for a long moment, and promising her once more that I wouldn't let anything happen to her.

As we took our last step from the stairs and entered the common room, Hermione stilled beside me. There he sat, not fifteen feet from us, in the chair closest the fire, his eyes glued to the floor at his feet. His hands were locked together; fingers laced with his elbows resting atop his knees.

"Ah, so glad you could join us," said a man who turned at our entrance who had been standing with one arm resting atop the mantle over the fire, the other with his hand fisted against his hip. He stood at his left, while Professor McGonagall took up his right.

"You could have a little respect," I spat at him; the only thing holding me back from charging him was Hermione's hand in my own: She was just as much my rock as I was hers.

"Hm," the man said, looking down at the floor for a minute before adjusting his eyes to behold the redhead beside him. "With as much, let's call it spunk, as you seem to have, Mr Potter, you would think you could have prevented all this happening in the first place, wouldn't you say?" he asked. Hermione's chest began heaving heavily beside me, and her breathing picked up.

"How dare you," she said unexpectedly, forcing her eyes to come away from the floor to look at the man. "Just who do you think you are to speak to us like that? You obviously know perfectly well what happened, or else you wouldn't be here. And just why are you here?" she asked him, and cut him off before he could answer, knowing just as well as I what his answer would be. "No!" she shouted. "I know why you are here. But why now? What do you want, and why is he here?"

"To be blunt with you, Miss Granger, I am simply here to asses the situation and seek out any inconsistencies with what may or may not have happened, and then from there will be able to punish the attacker with the severity of his crime," he stated plainly. Honestly, who was this man? And why was McGonagall just standing there? And where was Dumbledore?

I looked around the room; the only other people besides myself, Hermione, McGonagall, him, and the man with whom had still not yet told us who he was, were Neville and Cormac, who had not been punished in any way, as he didn't technically do anything. And as we were told, doing something and simply wanting to do something were two completely separate issues. He gave his statement the night it had happened, and other than professors and students keeping a close eye on him, that was all.

I looked over at McGonagall, who just looked back at me with sad, quiet eyes.

"And seeing as Miss Granger was the victim, is biased and cannot be consulted."

"Then why does she have to be here!?" I demanded. "That monster that you appear to be defending drugged and raped her, and you're forcing her to be in the same room as him, yet you don't even want to speak with her!? Who the hell are you, anyways?"

"Harry, please," Hermione pleaded softly as she stepped closer to me, tears once again running down her cheeks as she sniffled her nose. I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and pulled her against me protectively.

"She is here simply because she must be here. She is the victim, and therefore must be present for a meeting such as this. Now," the man went on as Hermione continued to weep, with her eyes closed, against me. "As I was-"

"Really? Does that even make any sense to you at all? Can't you see how upset you are making her? You won't ask her anything, or listen to anything she has to say, yet you've no problem causing her tremendous amount of pain and agony, for no apparent reason at all other than: she must be here."

"Mr Potter I do not make the rules, I simply enforce them. I will be quick, how does that sound?" he asked. "I have taken statements from Mr Longbottom here, and Mr McLaggen – if you would be so kind as to look them over and either confirm or deny what you read, and I will also be needing a statement from yourself. And, as I said, seeing as Miss Granger was the victim and unconscious, she-"

"WATCH YOUR MOUTH!" I barked at him, ripping the parchment from his hand. "And why is he here?" I asked, waving the parchment in his direction.

"He is here because they are letting him back in the school," it was the first thing McGonagall had said, and suddenly I understood why she had not spoken until now. "The Auror Department has concluded that no dark magic, or any magic, for that matter, was used, and therefore is no need for them to interfere any longer. While he did committed a terrible crime, they have decided to simply let him go with a warning, and provide his punishment as time served, being the two months he was kept with them."

"That's rubbish!" I yelled. "After what he did to her – they can't let him back here! They can't, they-"

McGonagall put up her hand to stop me, and I forced myself to bite my tongue. Hermione had begun crying harder in my arms. "Why I quite agree with you Potter, in fact, I agree completely with you, they have made their decision. They have overruled even Headmaster Dumbledore, and he will be coming back to Hogwarts. Tomorrow. I know, I know," she said as I began to protest. "However, however, just listen to me, Potter," she said calmly; resolutely. "We have changed his schedule so he will have absolutely no classes with Miss Granger, and changed yours as well so the two of you that is, Miss Granger and yourself, will be in all the same classes. I understand and agree that I should have consulted either one or both of you before doing so, I assumed and I believed assumed correctly that neither one of you would have protested," I hugged Hermione tighter, and nodded my head before leaning the side of my face against the top of her head. "Yes, just as well I thought.

"And this man, his name is Mr Browning, by the way, is here to gather all the information he can to keep on Mr Weasley's name and record for the rest of his life. His life will be difficult because of this, and I am quite sad to say it is not enough punishment, nor the two months he was away. If it were up to me he would be thrown out without a red cent and a shredded wand, however, it is not up to me, I'm-"

"No it is not," Mr Browning said under his breath.

McGonagall shot him a look before continuing. "I will keep as close an eye on him as I can – just as I do McLaggen. He will not be allowed anywhere near Miss Granger during classes, and I can do what I can to keep him away on weekends. Though I am sorry to say it will be much more difficult during free hours, meal times, and in the common room. I will do what I can, and that is all I can say."

"That's all very well Professor, but, what about the…" I trailed off, knowing she would know what I meant, and she did.

"Ah, yes, that. Not at all. Absolutely no contact. Of course, we won't have to worry about that for another few months, but when the time comes I can promise you, neither of you will have anything to worry about whatsoever. You have my word."

I nodded my thanks, and began reading their statements. When I was finished, I handed it back to Mr Browning, answered his questions and gave my own statement. Once I was done, Mr Browning left, along with McGonagall, shortly followed by Cormac, leaving myself, Hermione and Neville alone with him…

To be continued…