FicWad

Chapter 15 - Talk amongst yourselves

Friday, December 20, 1996It had been one week since the 'squibbing' (as the student population had come to call it), and Hermione had spent the week watching for changes in the school. The first change noticeable was that the fear of Harry had returned to Gryffindor tower. The Gryffs had almost all been in the Great Hall when it had gone down; and those who hadn't had been quickly informed.

Hermione was frustrated with the lot of them, including Ron. Ron Weasley had started out as the third friend Harry had ever known after Hagrid and Hedwig -- and the very first friend his own age that Harry had ever had in his miserable life. But Ron wasn't living up to his Gryffindor heritage. Rather than being a good friend and standing by Harry, he had retreated.

The muggle-born witch was used to being ignored by most of those around her, but she was definitely not used to being ignored by Ron. She could tell that what Harry had done had upset Ron deeply, but she had no idea why. There certainly wasn't a single person in Gryffindor who thought Pansy should get her magic back. In fact, she had heard many of them say that the sadistic bitch got off easy.

So she waited in the common room that Friday evening after dinner, hoping to catch sight of one of Harry's dorm mates, to send a message to him. She really, really, really needed to talk to her best friend. The portrait door opened and anoisy gang came in, including Ron and Neville.

Ron looked at her and said, "Hi, Hermione," quite politely. Then, to his mates, "See you guys on the pitch tomorrow first thing, right?"

He really is playing at being the star of the team, now that Harry's not playing, she thought. She was glad he had something of his own to be proud of; something he didn't have to share with his siblings. "Neville," she called out to the quiet boy.

"Hi, Hermione," said Neville. Like all the other boys, Neville had grown up quite a bit, and was becoming a very nice(if very quiet) young man. "Did you need something?"

Her words came out all in a rush. "Nev, could you give this to Harry for me? I don't know if he's up there or not, but it's either ask you or send him an owl, and I'd feel silly sending an owl with a letter just to go upstairs, so if he's there, I mean if he isn't too busy--"

"Okay, Hermione! Are you okay? Take a breath. Is there something I can help with?"

She looked up sharply at his words, but saw that he wasn't making fun of her. He was genuinely concerned about her. She tried a shaky smile, saying, "Oh... Sorry, Neville... just... you see it's really..." Then she stopped, afraid she was going to cry.

"Wait here, Hermione; I'll make sure everybody's decent. Be right back." Neville patted her shoulder awkwardly, not really sure how to do things like that, before dashing up the stairs. He returned in short order, Harry in tow behind him.

Harry walked into the common room to find Hermione pacing and wringing her hands, much like he had seen her the night McGonagall and Lipharvest had gotten drunk and passed out. He stepped immediately up to her and put his hands over her clasped ones, speaking gently. "Hey... hey now, what's wrong?"

"Harry, I just--" before stopping herself. She saw that her little scene had attracted the attention of everyone in the room. "Harry, could I speak to you in private? It's really important and I need your advice."

He looked at her anxious face, brown eyes searching his face for his answer. "Of course, of course." He looked around at the room, before saying,"Why don't we just go for a walk? There's two more hours to curfew, and I don't have any training meetings tonight."

Harry kept hold on her right hand with his left, raising his right into the air. In a few seconds, his walking staff was seen floating down the stairs, through the open doorway and into his grasp. "There," he said. "Let's go." Still holding her hand, he led her out the door and down the hall.

Stepping briskly past the suits of armor and around a corner, he pulled her into a room that looked for all the world like a disused dorm room; like it could be the common room for a smaller fifth house. He closed the door and spoke, "Lights," causing several lamps to light and a fire to appear in the grate.

Her desire to know things overcame some of her anxiety, and she asked, "Harry, what is this room?"

"This is the common room for the Gryffindor Head Boy and Girl suites. Since the Head Boy and Girl are not from Gryffindor this year, this suite stays empty. That's why everything is so dusty."

Hermione looked around, seeing several comfortable pieces of furniture. This room, along with the unseen bedrooms, would make a very nice apartment for the school student heads. She stood stock still, and closed her eyes, breathing deeply.

"Hermione, what's wrong?"

"I just have to do this first, Harry," she breathed. Then she opened her eyes and brought her wand up before her. "I, Hermione Jane Granger, swear on my magic that I shall not knowingly reveal any of Harry Potter's secrets to anyone, at any time, in any form, anywhere, without his prior permission. Enim fides."

A small, quiet 'chuff' sound was heard, and her hair moved slightly as if tickled by a light breeze. Harry just stood and watched her Witch's Oath, not knowing where any of this was going. It was performed perfectly and correct... but of course it would be, considering the caster.

She turned back to face him, but couldn't raise her eyes to his. He knew, through his ability to see all the way into her aura, that she was telling a great truth.

"Harry, I'm sorry I gave your secrets to Dumbledore. I'm sorry I tattled on you to the Order. I... I really care for you." A tear fell from the corner of one eye. "I thought I was doing the right thing, but I was just being a ghastly little swotty know-it-all. I was wrong. You don't have to tell me anything now, and I wouldn't blame you if you never told me any of your secrets again." She sniffed at this; he could see that idea truly hurt her. "I just wanted you to be able to trust me... to be around me... like we used to..."

That was as far as she got before she couldn't speak around her tears anymore. No matter what Harry had felt at that moment, there was no way he could have looked at her forlorn figure, baring her soul and her shame to him, and not be moved.

But he could also tell that this wasn't going to be a 10-second-hug kind of cry. He limped over to the nearest armchair and sat in it, putting his dicky knee on a hassock. Then he reached up with his arms and levitated her to share the chair with him. She was openly sobbing now, half on his lap and half on the chair. He held her as closely and as warmly as he knew how.

"Hermione, I--"

"Oh, God, no! Harry, please don't hate me..." she sobbed before wailing into his shirt again, gripping his collar with both hands to keep him close. "Please, I'll do anything, just please don't push me away again... awwwaaaahuhh..."

Harry held the crying young woman against him. He checked her aura, and saw that she was deeply hurt and emotionally damaged by what she perceived as his rejection of her. Looking a little deeper, she also saw a more significant damage, caused by her new understanding that she was responsible for the rift.

He knew he had the power, and the knowledge, and the dexterity to directly repair her aura and redact her mind. But he also knew, without knowing how he knew, that the healing could be done just as effectively with a few words. He waited for her emotional storm to pass, and stroked her hair, and stroked her shoulders, and reached under her to bring her more securely into his lap.

"Hermione..." he whispered gently into her ear, over and over. "Hermione..." Harry kept up his slow caresses and supportive whispers until her crying stopped. Reluctant to let her go, he nevertheless freed a hand long enough to conjure a box of tissues for her.

When she saw the box he was handing her, it almost set her off again. "Oh, you," she whimpered before setting about the task of drying her face. She made the noises and words women always make when their self-consciousness kicks back into gear. "I must look frightful, I'm a mess," and things like that.

Harry took her face in his hands and said, "Hermione, look at me." He said it very gently, but she couldn't resist him in this, and looked up. He was looking right into her eyes with his green ones, and she was transfixed; pinned there by his gaze like a butterfly on a lepidopterist's display board. She watched the swirl of his eyes, and felt the rush of his next words.

"Hermione, I love you."

The eyes moved closer until his lips touched hers in a kiss. Not a semi-accidental or tentative brush of lips, but a real kiss. She didn't know when they had switched rolls of tutor and pupil, but it was definitely obvious now. Harry was no longer a pupil. His kiss was gentle, soft, moist, slow, attentive and... yummy.

Although she had touched lips before, she would always remember this as her first kiss.

When he pulled away, her eyes were closed. She had a look of total concentration on her face. Most importantly, the damage that he had seen in her aura was healing very fast. Either she was over-analyzing what was happening, or was trying to commit every single nanosecond to memory. He hoped it was the latter.

"Hey," he called gently. Her eyes opened, startled and wondrous. "I have something I want to show you." She blushed immediately, telling the world what she thought he meant. "No, silly. Want to see where I live?"

She was apprehensive almost at once. "Um... Only if... I mean... Are you sure?"

"Dobby," he called in a normal voice.

The house elf appeared almost immediately, checking out the perimeter to see if his master and friend was in trouble. "Yes, Master Harry, what's wrong?"

"Is our home prepared to receive guests?"

Dobby's eyes widened, followed close behind by a wide smile. "Is Master Harry's Miss Grangey coming to visit?"

"Dobby, would you put the kettle on? And Ithink this would be a wonderful time to have your favorite food. Right? Good, we'll be along in a moment."

Dobby snapped his fingers and disappeared. He looked into the face of Hermione, who had the strangest expression. She looked positively ready to burst, but unwilling to speak -- which was exactly the case.

Harry couldn't help but smile. "Oh, Dobby lives with me now. I think he gets a kick out of telling his friends that he's the highest-paid elf in all of Great Britain."

Under his hands, he could feel the tension drain from her shoulders. She turned a little in his lap and moved her head up to be kissed again. Harry obliged -- taking his time, as kisses shouldn't be rushed. This time, the movement of a warm, cuddly and pretty witch on him made a more predictable reaction. Refusing to be embarrassed or fearful, he just let himself grow under her warm bum, and waited to see her reaction.

When Hermione noticed, she gasped a little and looked at him, seemingly surprised. "Harry..." she began.

"Yes, love?"

"I--" she started, and then blushed furiously. "I mean... Really?"

Looking directly into her eyes so she could feel the truth of his words, he put his lips against hers and spoke directly to her lips. "There may be ways of faking that, or there may not." He kissed at random times between words, like extra punctuation. "But if there are ways, I don't know them."

They continued exploring the softnesses and firmnesses for another moment, before a'pop' announced the arrival of Dobby. "Master Harry, tea is ready," said the elf with a bow and agiant grin.