Chapter Seventeen

"So, let me get this straight: you and Granger are actually going on a date?"

Harry couldn't hold back his grin. He'd half-expected Daphne to react this way, but it was bloody brilliant to see. The normally stoic and painfully sarcastic Slytherin looked like she was about to jump for joy at the very prospect of an actual date between him and Hermione.

"Like a real, bona fide date?"

Harry nodded.

"But...? Since when?" she asked, blinking in slight disbelief. "And why am I finding out only now?"

Harry had the decency to look a bit ashamed. It was already Thursday, and he'd been sitting on this bit of information since Monday. "Well, we didn't tell anyone," he explained. "I'm sorry, but I'm kind of tired of being the talk of the Castle, you know?"

"But it's me," she countered, sounding a little hurt.

"I'm sorry," he said again. "I'm telling you now."

"You're only telling me because you want my help with something," she pointed out, clearly showing him how much she did know him. "Do you come seeking my sneaky Slytherin advice, huh?"

"Actually," he said, bringing them to a stop as they patrolled a corridor near the West Tower of the Castle. "I was kind of hoping for your girl advice."

That definitely piqued her interest. "Go on."

He blushed. "Well, you see, Hermione and I have kind of reverted back to the way things were before," he explained. "Before my feelings changed, and before... Corner."

"Is that good or bad?"

"I haven't yet decided," he said thoughtfully as he got them moving down the corridor again. "We were already quite, umm, close before, but now that we're, umm, going to date... It's just different, and I'm, well, I'm worried," he stuttered.

She eyed him for a moment, trying to figure out what he was trying to tell her. "Are we talking about what I think we're talking about?"

"I don't know; are we?"

"Harry," she said gently. "Have you and Granger kissed yet?"

He looked away. "Look, before we came back to Hogwarts, we, well, we were close, without actually, you know, being close close, so it's really weird now, because there's no real difference, is there? And if there is, which is probably all that kissing stuff, it's just not, well, coming as naturally as I thought it would, given how comfortable we are with each other already."

Daphne spent a full minute thinking about what he'd said, trying and failing to come up with a suitable reason for the Gryffindors' mutual hesitation. "Have the two of you talked?"

He blinked. "Talked?"

"Like talk talked? About your stupid nobility, about Corner, about the fight you had... all of it?" Daphne read his silence for what it was and shook her head. "It's no use pretending all of that didn't happen, Harry. Of course it's going to be weird if there's so much still left to be discussed." She gently nudged him with her elbow as they walked. "Look at me and Draco. We talked for ages, and then we kissed. And kind of haven't stopped since."

Harry made a disgusted sound, but he was smiling. "God, a happy Daphne Greengrass is so bloody annoying."

She glared at him. "I promise that I can go back to being sufficiently bitter if required," she said, lifting her chin in defiance. "I am still a cunning Slytherin, even though I am literally hopelessly in love."

This time, Harry actually shuddered. "Easy there, Greengrass," he said derisively. "I'm still getting used to the idea of you and Malfoy."

"Get used to it fast," she said. "I'm still waiting on that illustrious double date."

"And Malfoy would really go for that?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Because I can imagine that he's probably not too happy with these patrols you and I are going on."

She shrugged. "What does Granger think of them?"

"I suspect she's less critical of you and me, than I am of her and Corner," he confessed. "But this is as much about trust as it is about forgiveness and reconciliation, isn't it?"

"Just another thing you two Lions need to talk about."

He sighed heavily.

Suddenly, she got a mischievous glint in her eye that actually worried him. "Or... I could use my cunning Slytherin ways and engineer another patrol swap for our upcoming meeting."

Harry looked torn.

"Oh, don't do that," she chided gently, stopping their walk again. "This thing we had going on was always temporary," she reminded him. "I promise I'll still be your friend. Merlin knows what crazy shit you would get yourself into without me."

He laughed. "You know, you're the one to keep me out of trouble, and Hermione's the one to save me once I've got myself into it."

"Imagine how different our school years would have been if we'd made friends earlier," she said, her amusement trailing off to something serious. "It would have been really different, wouldn't it?"

"Probably."

"But what's past is past, Potter," she said decisively and she started down the corridor again. "Now, please can we catch some miscreants? I find that I'm in the mood for handing out detentions."

Harry could only follow, his head shaking in the process.

It wasn't until much later that he was finally able to have that elusive talk with Hermione, because she was actually waiting for him. Not on the couch in the common room, but rather on his bed in his Head Boy's room, reading a book.

Harry's heart literally stuttered at the sight of her. This was his life now. This was what he could now come home to.

"Hey, rule-breaker," he said, getting her attention as he entered the room and closed the door behind him.

Hermione waited a moment as she finished off her sentence, memorised the page number, set the book aside and gave him her undivided attention.

For Harry, being her sole focus was both disarming and overwhelming. Just for those moments, knowing that the entire world was less important than he was, made him nervous and excited at the same time.

"I hope you don't mind that I'm in here," she said. "There are things that I think we need to talk about."

He frowned, but said nothing as he moved to sit down on the edge of his bed. He watched as she crossed her legs Indian-style and gave him a curious look, as if she were reading his mind.

"Did Ginny talk to you too?" she asked.

"What?"

It was her turn to frown. "Well, it's just, you know, you don't look all that surprised by the fact that we need to talk."

"Because I'm not," he said truthfully. "We do need to talk."

For a moment, she looked contemplative before she smiled knowingly. "So it was Daphne then?"

Harry just returned her smile, before he lay down on his back and looked at her. "As I'm sure you've noticed," he said; "I'm kind of useless at this whole, umm, relationship thing."

"I don't think that's true," she said easily. "In fact, I think you'll be really good at relationships. You're attentive, caring, loving and so true. I've always harboured this thought that you were born to be a husband and father, the undisputed head of your family, that you'll protect with every fibre of your being."

Harry was forced to look away from her, suddenly embarrassed by his own blush. That was a rather large thought that she had.

Hermione took pity on him, and used her fingers on his chin to turn his head back to look at her. "Hello," she said with a smile. She was tempted to tell him that she'd missed him, but decided to hold her tongue. He'd only been gone a few hours. What was wrong with her?

"Now, what is it that you wanted to talk about?" he asked.

Hermione visibly steeled herself for what was to come. "Well, I thought maybe we could start by talking about Michael."

At the sound of that, Harry sat up and turned his body to face her. He took a deep breath, wrung his fingers together and then offered her a small smile. "Okay then. Let's do this."

And so they did.

Hermione detailed all she'd felt, from the moment she'd found him with Emily in the common room, to allowing herself to see other boys, all the way to the realisation of how much she'd messed everything up with him. She made sure that Harry understood that she'd really liked Michael, and that she'd never used the Ravenclaw as a distraction, or as a way to hurt Harry.

That was just a bonus.

The words flew out of his mouth before he could stop them, and they were forced to backtrack to discuss his feelings on the entire Michael situation. He explained the hurt, the constant fear that he would lose her for good, and the anger. There was a part of him that was still terribly angry. She'd left him. She'd forced him to face his recovery without her, and he wasn't quite over that yet.

Hermione continued to apologise, and Harry asked her to stop. He was past the apologies now. He wanted explanations. He wanted truth.

He told her that he'd felt alone. Sure, he'd been surrounded by people, but she was always number one. She was his go-to person; his person. She'd left him to deal with Ron by himself; to make sure that George was keeping an eye on their mutual best friend's recovery.

She'd made him feel unwanted. She'd made him feel like a burden.

Hermione swore to herself that she wouldn't cry, but she was unable to stop herself when his voice caught, thick with emotion. She didn't move to hug him, though her grip on his arm did tighten. She was tempted to apologise again but she stopped herself. He didn't want apologies.

Explanations. He wanted an explanation.

"As someone who claims to know you as well I do; I missed it. I didn't allow myself to look, because I was terrified of what I was going to see." She took a moment to try to find the words that she needed. "I was afraid of looking to you and finding you looking somewhere else. I had a feeling I knew what it would feel like, and I was selfish, Harry. I was protecting myself against the heartbreak I knew would come.

"I didn't realise - I guess I convinced myself that I was doing the right thing based on what Healer Patrick said about our co-dependence. We needed to be separate for - " her voice caught. "Despite everything that's happened, I think that maybe this was something that we needed."

His eyes widened.

"Wait, just hear me out," she said, her fingers tightening around his arm, holding him in place in case he was going to flee. "I'm not saying that any of this pain was worth it, but I do think we needed to separate to come back to each other."

Harry looked pensive. "Did it work?" he asked.

"I learned a lot," she said quietly.

"Did it work?" he asked again.

She looked away for a moment, absently pulling her hands back, before meeting his gaze. "I don't want to spend another day going through any of this without you," she said, choosing her words carefully. "I had to learn what it was like to know I don't want it."

"But you chose it?"

"I tried to accept it," she returned. "I've been failing since the moment I started."

"And Hermione Granger doesn't like failing," he said, trying to inject amusement into his tone but it fell flat.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I know you said to stop apologising but - "

Harry reached for her hands. "But what, Hermione?"

"I wish you hadn't forgiven me this easily," she admitted, absently squeezing his fingers. "I wish you'd stayed angry for longer; that you'd stopped doing nice things for me. My actions hurt you, and I - "

"Do you think that you deserve to hurt as well?" he asked, his eyes wide and concerned. "Hermione, no," he said, shaking his head. "Please don't say that. I don't want that. You shouldn't want that either."

"But I - "

"Stop," he said, almost snapping. "Stop," he repeated, a bit calmer. "I do forgive you, Hermione. I forgive your fears and I forgive the way they manifested. This is what we do for each other. We understand each other, our successes and failures, our limitations and boundaries. I don't want you to feel the way that I was hurting. I don't want anyone to."

"Harry," she whispered, tears springing to her eyes again. "How do we - how do I just let it be? How do I ignore that there's this tally in my head where I feel as if I have to make up for all that I did to get us to this point? How do I just let it go without you evening the score?"

"Stop it," he said again. "Just. Okay. What do you want us to do then?" he asked. "What should I do? Tell me what you want me to do."

"I don't want you to do anything, Harry."

He took a deep breath, trying to figure out what they were supposed to do. Her hands were warm in his and he never wanted to let go. Was this too soon? Was that what she's saying?

"Is this what you said you have to work through?" he asked timidly.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?"

"I don't want to push you away," she said. "I don't want to lose you."

"Who said that you're going to lose me?" he asked seriously. "I'm not going anywhere, all right? Why would you think I would?"

She sighed. "It's been weird," she said. "I worry that it'll get too weird, and I just - I don't want to mess this up for us."

"You won't."

"You don't know that."

He shook his head. "I've waited years, Hermione," he said. "I didn't know it then, but I know it now. I told you that there's no pressure. I told you that we can go slowly. I'd wait as long as you need."

"But I don't want to make you wait."

"But it's what you need," he said heatedly; "and I want you to know what I'm going to give you exactly what you need, whether you choose to accept it or not."

Hermione tugged on his hands, forcing him to shift closer to her. "I don't deserve you," she said, sliding her hands up his arms and over his biceps until they came to rest on his shoulders.

"No you don't," he whispered; "but I deserve you."

She smiled softly. "I both agree and disagree with that statement."

Harry's hands lay limp at his sides until he willed them to move, wanting to touch her as well. Without wasting a moment more, he lay his palms on her thighs, finding the sudden hitch in her breathing wonderful.

"Slowly," Hermione said.

"Whatever speed you want," he said.

Her hands shifted from his shoulders, her fingers moving to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. Her eyes met his, steady and strong. The green drew her in, calming her; easing her, and exciting her. "I like this speed," she said.

"I do too."

"Good," she whispered, before leaning forward and kissing his cheek. "But I want you to do something for me."

"What?"

"You have to tell me what you need as well," she said carefully. "Don't be afraid to tell me what you need."

"I need you," he breathed. "Just you."

She kissed his other cheek. "I need you too," she murmured against his skin. "Just you."

"That can be arranged," he whispered.

"Good."

He just nodded, absently wrapping his arms around her. "It always will be."

Harry had to admit that it was surprisingly easy to keep his upcoming date with Hermione out of the school gossip circuit. He wasn't sure how it happened, but he wasn't about to complain. Merlin forbid Harry Potter was allowed to spend time with a girl without the great big world knowing about it.

It helped that the weekend wasn't an actual school Hogsmeade weekend but, being Seventh-Years, they were allowed the freedom to visit the little town on any weekend they wished.

Harry thought that his talk with Hermione helped but he still felt nervous. Ginny tried to remind him that it was just Hermione; that he had nothing to worry about but, even if he could somehow accept what she was saying, this was the beginning of what he hoped would be the rest of his life.

Despite whatever reservations he did have, the last thing he thought was that the date would be so awkward. Sure, he'd expected some awkwardness, but they could barely look at each other. They'd been fine at breakfast, casually joking with Ginny and Neville about things he couldn't even recall, but now the words just wouldn't come. What was wrong with him?

Maybe it was because she looked beautiful.

No. She always looked this way but this was really the first time that he was allowed to look so blatantly. He wasn't even afraid of being caught staring because she was looking too. It wasn't even as if he was wearing anything out of the ordinary, because it was meant to be casual.

But the conversation was anything but.

He just didn't know what to say.

Eventually, Hermione started them talking about Ancient Runes - it seemed the topic with which she was most comfortable - and the tension seemed to settle.

Slowly, they both grew into the conversation, welcoming tangents and discussing all sorts of topics but feeling grounded by the fact that they could return to the talk of school while the other patrons in the Three Broomsticks simply fell away into the background. Really, it felt as if it was just the two of them in existence.

Once they'd eaten, Hermione surrendered to allowing Harry to pay for their meal. He was a real gentleman about, really. They did everything in slow motion, simultaneously rising to their feet and leaving in silence. Hermione took hold of his hand and allowed herself to be led out of the bar and into the street, a happy smile on her face.

His hand was warm in hers and it was the type of warmth that spread through her arm straight to her chest. It was a day of learning for them both, and she wanted to remember every second of this day. With him.

Always with him.

"Oh no," he suddenly said, forcing her to look at him.

"What?"

"Two o'clock," he whispered, dropping his head. "Just know that I am so sorry for this, okay?"

"For what?" she asked, but he needn't have responded because she figured it out a moment later.

"Oh, look who we have here," a voice said, and Hermione's head snapped to the right.

Harry's hand immediately tightened around hers.

Daphne practically skipped towards them, Malfoy following behind, looking as if he wanted to be anywhere else but there in that moment.

"Well, well, well," Daphne said, sidling up the Gryffindor pair. "Fancy seeing you two here."

"Daphne," Harry ground out, his eyes flicking from the girl in front of him to the girl at his side. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"Well, we are on our way back to the Castle; what are you two doing?"

"Just walking," Harry answered.

"Back to the Castle?" she asked hopefully.

"Uh," he started, trying to think of a suitable excuse.

"Great," she said happily, jumping slightly. "Let's walk together." At that, she tugged on his arm, which brought Hermione along owing to their joined hands.

Malfoy had no choice but to follow, though begrudgingly.

Harry tried to look at Hermione, but she wasn't looking at him. She was looking at Daphne in slight alarm, clearly overwhelmed by the Slytherin's lack of boundaries.

"Greengrass," Harry grumbled, clearly put out.

"Potter?" Daphne whispered.

"Hmm?"

"I've got this," she said. But, before he could ask her what she was talking about, she was speaking again. "Now go play nice with my person while I take care of yours."

Daphne grabbed hold of the back of his jacket, invariably slowing him down to a stop. Without prompting, Harry and Hermione released each other's hands, realising that a mutual separation was needed.

Harry threw her an apologetic look before Daphne shoved him, getting him moving forward. He also didn't miss the look she shot Malfoy's way, and the two boys had no choice but to walk ahead, as awkward as it was.

The only thing they had in common was Daphne Greengrass.

And death, Harry guessed, but he wasn't sure that he was comfortable talking to Draco Malfoy about either of those things. So he remained silent and tried his best not to think about the conversation going on behind him or the hell he was going to be in when Hermione got a hold of him.

"So I hear that you and Harry haven't yet kissed," Daphne said, sidling up to the Gryffindor and giving her a genuine smile.

Despite Hermione's obvious alarm, she managed to shoot a dirty look at Harry's back, as he walked in front of the two girls with Malfoy. She supposed that was enough punishment for essentially telling a stranger their business.

But then, Daphne Greengrass was decidedly not a stranger to Harry. In fact, they seemed to be quite good friends, which meant that Hermione was just going to have to get used to the charming Slytherin.

"Oh, don't worry," Daphne said, noticing the daggers Hermione was sending the green-eyed wizard. "He didn't explicitly tell me anything. He's too noble for that... but I do consider myself a bit of an expert in this, say, subject." Daphne leaned in closer, almost bumping Hermione with her hip. "It's obvious to me that the two of you have yet to jump from really close friends to... potential lovers."

The look of horror on Hermione's face was enough to make Daphne cackle. "I am so not discussing any of this with you," Hermione finally said, her heart rate rising dangerously.

"If not me, who?" she asked. "Weasley?"

Hermione resolutely said nothing.

Daphne sighed. "Okay, listen here, Granger," she said testily. "Just go for it, okay? It'll probably be a bit awkward because, well, you're friends, but then the hormones will kick in and you literally won't be able to keep your hands to yourself. Trust me."

The way she said the words gave Hermione pause. It was as if she knew something that Hermione didn't - which was definitely a possibility - but it was as if that something was about Harry, and that didn't sit well with Hermione.

It wasn't until they were back in the Castle that Hermione finally figured out just what Daphne had meant by her words. She'd said to trust her because she knew what it was like to be unable to keep her hands to herself. With Harry.

Hermione's Harry.

When she figured it out, she was lying on her stomach on his bed, absently reading through the week's proposed DADA lesson. Harry was sprawled out on the room's couch, his head buried in a book about Ancient Runes - officially his new favourite subject.

"Harry?" she said, getting his attention.

It took him a moment to realise she'd spoken, and then another moment to rip his eyes away from what he was reading to look at her. He looked so adorably confused that Hermione suddenly didn't have the heart to bring up her suspicions about what he may or may not have got up to with Daphne Greengrass. All she had to do was remember the whole tie debacle and know.

"You know that you can ask me anything, Hermione," he said gently, sitting up and setting his book aside. "We have to talk about things, remember?"

She took a deep breath. "Did you and Daphne ever kiss?" she asked, wary of his response.

Harry's eyes widened for a moment. "Umm, is that what she told you?"

"She didn't necessarily tell me anything, but, well, I'm kind of smart, you know?"

He swallowed. "I do know," he said carefully. Then he sat up straight. "If you must know, yes, we did kiss."

She blinked, suddenly unsure about how she felt about that news. It was one thing to suspect it, and an entirely different thing to know it as truth.

"And before you ask, you should know that it didn't mean anything," he added. "It's the main reason I didn't tell you. The other is that she made me promise, and she's quite scary sometimes. It was just a form of distraction and, well, I was so mad at you and, even though you didn't know about it, I might have used it as a way to hurt you without actually hurting you. Because, despite it all, I was, and am, still madly in love with you."

Hermione slowly sat up.

"Don't be mad," he said cautiously. "I mean, it isn't like you're allowed to be mad, but I've acted irrationally before so, you know, don't be mad."

"I'm not mad," she said. "Just, well, surprised."

"Surprised?"

She nodded. "I was certain that Malfoy would have hexed you by now."

"Oh, he doesn't know," he said quickly. "And I think it's better for everyone if he never does."

Hermione was inclined to agree with that sentiment. There was no saying how Draco Malfoy would react to that fact that his girlfriend had kissed Harry Potter.

"Hermione?" he queried innocently.

"Thank you for telling me, Harry," she said, and then lay back down, returning her attention to her book.

It took Harry a bit longer to return to his own reading but he eventually did. At some point, Hermione got up, moved to kiss the top of his head and then disappeared from the room, leaving him a little confounded.

Twenty minutes later, she returned, dressed in her pyjamas and looking decidedly determined. She didn't say anything as she climbed into his bed, turned off the light on the night table and looked at him. She took a breath. "Is this okay?" she asked softly.

All he could do was nod.

She gave him a small smile before she settled down and closed her eyes.

Harry could only watch in mild amusement. Despite the fact that they'd spent months sharing a bed, this was the first night it had happened willingly since... well, since Corner. And he suspected that she wasn't in his bed because she needed to be, but because she wanted to be.

Harry finished up the fifth chapter of his book and then got ready for bed. It was still rather chilly outside so Harry settled for pyjama pants and a Quidditch jersey. His bed was already warm by the time he climbed into it, and it got even warmer when Hermione shifted into his arms. Her soft sigh tickled his chin and he couldn't help his smile. He decided not to say anything. He rather closed his eyes, let out a content sigh and promptly fell asleep.

Hermione woke up feeling more content than she had in months. She was alone in Harry's room and, when she checked the time, she knew why. He was at Quidditch practice, leaving her to hog his covers.

Of course he would let her sleep in. Despite all they had been through; good sleep was still very precious, and had to be valued. It was odd though. Hermione couldn't help herself from, well, missing him. It was ridiculous, and she felt foolish for even thinking it, but she suddenly had a burning desire to see him.

With that, she rolled over and buried her face in his pillows. She moved her arms to tuck them under the pillows when her fingers closed around a small piece of a paper. It was a handwritten note from Mr Potter himself.

I'm still not sure what your thoughts are on what we discussed last night,

but I'm taking the fact that you're still in my bed to be a good sign.

I'll see you after practice.

I love you.

And that was it, wasn't it? After all this time, he loved her.

It was like someone struck her in the chest, the way her body jerked as if she was just now realising what it truly meant to be loved by Harry James Potter. Hermione practically scrambled out of bed, not even bothered to check the time. She raced to her own room, rushed through getting dressed and then made her way down to the Quidditch pitch, intent on seeing him right then.

It was, again, irrational, because what she needed to say to him could have waited, but she couldn't bring herself to just sit by and not tell him.

Which was how Hermione found herself on the grass of the famous Quidditch pitch, striding up to where Harry Potter had his team gathered around him for what looked like a very important talk.

"Hey, Potter!" Hermione called out.

Harry turned sharply, too confused by Hermione's appearance on the pitch to register how happy he was to see her. One look at her though, told him that she was there for a very specific reason. Something serious, by the look of it.

"Can I have a word?"

Harry glanced between his gathered team and his... girlfriend. "Kind of busy here, Hermione," he said, his fear of the look in her eye getting the better of him.

"It'll be quick," she said, sounding particularly breathless. Did he always look that good in his Quidditch robes?

Harry hesitated for a moment more before he politely excused himself and made his way over to Hermione. Once he was close enough, he started to talk. "Couldn't this have waited?" he asked curiously. "We've still got to have a practice game."

Hermione just shook her head, and then, surprising just about everyone; she suddenly grabbed for the front of his robes, pulled him towards her and kissed him. Like, really kissed him. Full on the mouth. Right in front of his Quidditch team.

The kiss didn't last all that long, mainly because Harry was too shocked to move at all.

Hermione eventually pulled back, grinned at his bewildered expression, brought her lips up to his ear and whispered, "I love you, Harry. I truly do."

Harry could only watch in surprised paralysis as she released him and stepped back. She was still smiling, widely, but she said nothing more. With one more shake of her head, she turned and started on her way back to the Castle, leaving Harry slack-jawed.

In fact, he was beyond stunned, and it clearly showed on his face as he made his way back to his gathered team. Ginny was practically bouncing from excitement, and he just had the wherewithal to notice the dark look cross Emily's face.

"Umm," he stuttered, his eyes drifting towards Ginny. "Did that really just happen?"

Ginny let out an excited laugh. "Yes, Harry, yes it did."

At that, Harry's face finally broke out into a wide grin, and he clapped his hands in... triumph, maybe. But it was enough to get the team's attention. "Okay then, I think we've talked enough for one day. Let's fly!"