The Last Time

Calliope

Story Summary:
When Harry wants to stop the pain he suffers from re-occurring dreams about the death of his parents, it is only the bond he shares with Ron and Hermione that saves his life. The bond proves to be the only thing that saves them all as they face the unimaginable… [written pre-OotP, but partially OotP-compatible]

Chapter 26

Chapter Summary:
When Harry wants to stop the pain he suffers from re-occurring dreams about the death of his parents, it is only the bond he shares with Ron and Hermione that saves his life. The bond proves to be the only thing that saves them all as they face the unimaginable… (Rated PG-13- R/Hr, H/Hr...)
Posted:
03/24/2003
Hits:
2,837
Author's Note:
The Last Time was originally written pre-OotP and then was edited to comply with the new canon. There are still some small things that don’t quite reconcile with OotP but I had to take a bit of artistic license with them, such as the inability of boys to go into the girls’ dormitories, the layout of St. Mungo’s, how people are selected to be Aurors, and a few other small things. I felt that changing them to be totally compatible with OotP would require totally taking the story apart and reworking it.

Chapter 26

They sat there looking at each other for a few minutes. Hermione didn't want to move - she had Ron and Harry in the same room, they were both smiling, and no one was yelling or crying or punching anyone in the face.

It was very nice.

But Harry broke the silence. "Ron? I think Hermione and I should go - "

"Go? Already?" Ron looked stunned.

"Just for a bit - your mum and dad want to talk to you. They've been so worried...." Harry nodded towards the door.

Ron bit his lip and looked down at his lap. "Mum's going to smother me, I know it."

"She can't help it," said Hermione, patting his arm. "She's been taking this really hard. And your dad has too - and all your family."

"Even Percy hasn't been his usual stuffy self," said Harry. "He took a few days off work, even. I was amazed. God only knows how many thin-bottomed cauldrons slipped onto the market when he wasn't looking."

"It might mean the end of the wizarding world as we know it," added Hermione.

Ron smiled weakly.

It was almost like he didn't want them out of his sight now that he had them back. It worried Hermione just a bit. "Ron, really, let your mum and dad see you. Okay? We'll be back in a bit."

Ron sighed. "It's not that I don't want to see them - I do - it's just - " his voice dropped to a whisper. "I don't want them to see me."

"Hey," said Harry, poking him in the arm. "Don't be like that."

"I just don't know if I can deal with my parents right now."

Ron, if you only knew how much your parents love you, and how much your mum wishes she could make it up to you....

She'd never tell Ron what they had said - if they wanted him to know, they'd tell him - but.... "Ron, your mum's going mad. She wouldn't leave your side for days, and then only when Bill or your dad dragged her off to get some rest. You need to talk to them. We're going to go - but we'll be back later. I promise."

"Okay," Ron said reluctantly.

As if on cue, Mrs. Weasley's anxious face peered through a crack in the door, with Mr. Weasley right behind her. "I'm sorry, dears, but it seemed awfully quiet in here, and I didn't know...."

Then she burst into tears and flung herself on Ron.

"Mum...geroff...you're squashing me..." said Ron, even though he'd locked his arms around his mother's neck and didn't seem to want to let go.

Ron's father was smiling so wide he looked ten years younger, and Bill was right behind him, wearing an identical smile.

Not wanting to intrude on the Weasley family mini-reunion, Hermione and Harry slipped out the door while Ron wasn't looking.

"I take it Mr. Weasley is in a more agreeable mood?" asked Professor Dumbledore, as Hermione closed the door behind her.

"You could say that," said Harry.

"As a general rule, I do not condone students storming into hospitals and beating down patients' doors," Dumbledore said, looking pointedly at Harry. "Especially when the parents of said patient specifically asked you to remain at school for the time being."

Harry looked at the floor as if he wished it would open up and swallow him whole.

"However," continued Dumbledore, "considering the situation...." He made a slight gesture that seemed to encompass everything. "Mr. Weasley is very fortunate to have you for his friends - as you are to have him. I trust you will not take that for granted in the future?"

Somehow, he knows what's really going on here. How does he know so much about every little thing that happens at this school?

"No, sir," said Harry.

"No, Professor," said Hermione. She tried to keep her voice polite, but something about the Headmaster's all-knowing and selectively-revealing attitude was beginning to irritate her.

"Very good then. I shall speak to Mr. Weasley and his parents about his plans for returning to school, and then I must be off." He turned to go into Ron's room, but Hermione spoke up again.

"Returning to school? Already?"

The elderly wizard shook his head. "Not immediately, Miss Granger, but he should return as soon as he is able. There will be accommodations to be made, and I would like to have them ready before he returns."

"But, Professor - "

He looked at her very solemnly, and laid a hand on her shoulder. "I know you are frustrated right now. You cannot bear to see your friend suffer when you think you know a way to put an end to it. And you are right - there is a way you can help him. But the time is not right."

Hermione's irritation surged beneath her mask of politeness, threatening to shatter it. "What do you mean, 'the time is not right'? What good is it going to do to have Ron so miserable, if I can do something about it? Why make him wait?"

"I don't understand, Professor," said Harry. "I don't want Hermione to get hurt, but why won't you let her learn so she can help Ron?"

"I have my reasons," Dumbledore said. He patted her shoulder and let go. "There are many things at stake here. There is good that can come from every situation, whether we see it immediately or not."

This only made Hermione more irritated. "I don't see what the good is in keeping Ron miserable! Go on in there and see, and you'll know what I'm talking about! Do you know how hard it's going to be for him to cope with this? To go back to Hogwarts? To have people staring and pointing at him? Why does he have to go through that if there's a chance for him? Why?" She stomped her foot in frustration.

Even though she heard the words coming out of her mouth, she couldn't believe she was speaking so disrespectfully to Professor Dumbledore, the greatest wizard in the world; she was utterly horrified, and yet she couldn't stop herself. "What else is going on in that 'great master plan' of yours that we can't know about?"

"Hermione!" said Harry, obviously startled.

Professor Dumbledore said nothing, just looked intently at her over his half-moon glasses without the slightest hint of his usual amusement.

My God, I can't believe I just said that. Why did I just say those awful things to Professor Dumbledore, who has never been anything but kind to me - what is wrong with me? I can't keep my mouth shut!

"I'm sorry, sir...." Hermione stammered, feeling her face burn. "I didn't mean it...."

Dumbledore and Harry both stared at her; the former with disappointment, the latter with concern.

I will not turn and run. I always run away when I'm embarrassed, or angry, or upset, and I will not do it again. I will stand here like a grown-up woman and not act like a silly little girl.

She would not run.

So she walked.

Very fast.

As soon as she got around the corner, out of sight of Dumbledore and Harry, she leaned against the wall and closed her eyes.

What possessed me to speak to him like that? No one talks to Dumbledore like that - no one.

She took a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself.

"Hermione?"

"Ah!" She jumped, startled, at the sound of her name and the light touch on her arm, but relaxed when she realized it was Harry.

"I didn't mean to scare you," he said.

"You didn't scare me," she said. "I knew it was you."

"You're a horrible liar." His hand was still resting on her arm. "But I didn't mean just now - I meant yesterday. I didn't mean to scare you...you know...with the Malfoy thing, and this morning, leaving without telling you."

"Oh," she said.

"It's just...." He looked like he was trying to figure out what to say.

"Ron."

"Yeah. I missed him."

"Me too," she said, and she meant it.

Harry smiled; it lit up his whole face in a way Hermione hadn't seen since Christmas. "I'm glad he let us talk to him."

"Me too."

He looked at her suspiciously. "Are you okay?"

"Me? I'm fine...why wouldn't I be? What makes you think I'm not okay? I'm perfectly all right, thank you very much."

"Between taking care of me and worrying about Ron, I think you've forgotten about yourself," said Harry. "What you said to Dumbledore...."

She closed her eyes and let her head fall back against the wall with a soft thunk. "Don't remind me, please.... Is he angry?"

"No, not angry, just - I don't know - I don't reckon he expected you to talk to him like that."

"I couldn't help it, Harry. I'm just so worried, I can't think straight, and he won't let me do anything...."

Harry reached out and squeezed her hand. "I know you're worried about Ron. So am I...I think that's why I lost it with Malfoy yesterday. Don't get so worried that you forget about yourself, though. I don't want you doing anything stupid, like I did."

He looked at her very intently, and she couldn't look away.

There was that dizzy, light-headed feeling again.

Relief that Ron's talking to us again, that's what it is. It's been a wild couple of days.

It was very disorienting, and she tried to push it away, but it wasn't going anywhere.

"Ahem...."

They both started at the sound of the discreet cough from a few feet away.

"Remus! What are you doing here?" asked Harry, jamming his hands in the pockets of his robes.

"Hermione owled me about what happened yesterday," Remus answered. He obviously hadn't wasted any time getting here from wherever he'd been; his robes were dusty and he sported more than a bit of five o'clock shadow on his anxious face.

Harry looked at Hermione as if to say, What did you do that for?

She put her hands on her hips and tried to put on her best you-know-I'm-right-about-this expression, which came surprisingly easily to her.

Remus looked at Harry with concern. "Are you okay? McGonagall told me you were here, scared me to death. I didn't know what you'd got into...."

Harry shrugged, looking down at the floor.

Remus put an arm around him. "Harry, let's go have a talk."

"But we told Ron we'd be back," he protested, looking at Hermione.

"I'll stay," said Hermione. "I really think you should talk to him about this, Harry. You can come back tomorrow, right, Remus?"

"Right," Remus agreed, steering Harry off down the corridor.

Hermione watched them walk away, wondering what would have happened if Remus had not shown up when he did.

*****

When she got back to Ron's room, he was picking at a plate of food with a disgusted look on his face.

"Ugh - hospital food is horrible," he said, putting down his fork and pushing the tray away. "It tastes like the wrapper off a Chocolate Frog - without the Chocolate Frog." Then his face brightened. "But Mum went home to fix something up for me, so I won't be hungry for long." He looked a lot more cheerful and clear-headed than he had before his parents' visit.

"I'm glad to see you're in a better mood," Hermione said.

"Yeah...seeing Mum and Dad helped a lot." He looked around. "Where's Harry?"

"With Remus." Seeing the puzzled look on Ron's face, she added, "I wrote him about what Harry did."

"Oh." He looked at her for a moment, as if he were thinking carefully about what to say. "Was it really that bad, Hermione?"

She shuddered. "Yes. It was really that bad."

"Tell me what happened." He patted the space beside him on the bed.

She sat down and told him, watching his face grow more and more serious as she went on.

"And he did this...because he was mad at Malfoy...for what he did to me?" Ron asked.

Hermione nodded.

Ron didn't say anything for a bit. He seemed to be turning everything over in his mind, considering it carefully and weighing out what he wanted to say.

It was very un-Ron-like.

"Dad told me what happened at the match," he said abruptly. "I didn't remember anything after the Bludger hit - but he told me that Harry tried to catch me, and that you - "

Hermione interrupted. "Ron, I'm so sorry I couldn't do more, I tried, really I did, but I didn't know how...."

His mouth fell open. "More? Merlin's beard, Hermione, you saved my life! I would have died if you hadn't been there and been able to do what you did!"

"But - "

"But nothing." He took her hands in both of his and held them tightly. "You saved my life - you and Harry - and I owe you. A life-debt, you know?"

"A life-debt!" Hermione was stunned. "Ron, you can't think we'd hold you to that, do you?"

"You don't have a choice, Hermione," he said. "It's just the way it is - you wouldn't know, being Muggleborn - but my parents...they told us about life-debts when we were old enough to understand. They made sure we knew a life-debt is a binding, magical contract, whether the wizards involved mean to do it or not. That's how serious it is." He looked at her solemnly. "Not that I'd need to be under a life-debt to help you - or Harry - if you needed it."

Hermione felt her bottom lip quiver, and she bit it to make it stop. It had been so long since she'd been able to talk to Ron without shouting, and she'd missed him so very much it hurt. All his talk about life-debts just reminded her how close she came to losing him for good - first to his accident, and then to his suicide attempt.

"I was really mad at you, Hermione. You and Harry both. I guess I still am, a little bit. I mean, what I saw...." He shook his head as if trying to get rid of a picture in his mind. "And I know you're mad at me, about Natalie - "

"Can we not talk about that right now?" Hermione asked, feeling tears sting her eyes. "I don't want to argue."

Ron nodded, looking somewhat relieved. "Me neither. It can wait."

"You just don't know, Ron. We thought...we thought you were gone." She ran a finger lightly over the bandages on his wrists. "It was bad enough when we were fighting - I missed you, but at least you were around. If you were gone for good...."

"I'm sorry, Hermione. I wasn't thinking at the time, I was just...scared, I guess." He gave her a weak smile.

They talked about other things for a while, nothing of any importance, but Hermione didn't care; they were talking, and it didn't matter what they were talking about. It was nice to just sit there and talk to Ron without worrying that one of them was going to snap at the other. They kept the conversation light and casual, steering away from anything that might strain the tenuous bond of their newly-repaired friendship.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley soon returned with a hamper full of food for Ron - which he dug into straight away; Hermione had never seen him eat so much so fast before - with Ginny, Bill, Percy, and the twins right behind them. After a tearful hug for her brother, Ginny asked where Harry was, and seemed disappointed that he wasn't there, but soon had a distraction that had her holding her sides with laughter.

Fred and George were in full prankster mode, having brought several prototype products with them to show Ron. Before long Ginny had sprouted a pair of pink rabbit-ears that clashed horribly with her hair, Hermione had blue warts on her nose, and Bill had bananas growing out of his ears. Fred and George plucked a banana each and pretended they were microphones, singing progressively raunchy Quidditch songs until Mrs. Weasley shook her wand at them and threatened them with a Soapy-Mouth Charm. Hermione blanched at first when she realized they were Quidditch songs, but Ron didn't seem to be bothered, so she laughed along with everyone else.

Percy was back to his usual stuffy self, and refused to participate in any of the pranks. "Undignified, that's what it is," he'd huffed, as the twins fired off a sample of their new and improved version of wet-start, no-heat fireworks. "Really, some people need to learn to act their age." But Hermione had seen his face when he'd walked in the room and seen Ron laughing and joking, and she could tell he cared about Ron as much of the rest of them did.

The rabbit-ears, blue warts, and bananas eventually went away, the fireworks stopped sizzling, and finally a very irritated looking mediwitch came in and said that visiting hours were over, and they'd all have to leave except for the one person who would be spending the night with Ron. Hermione heard the mediwitch muttering something about "warts and bananas, honestly," before beginning to round them all up and shoo them out.

"Hermione, dear, will you be coming back tomorrow?" asked Mrs. Weasley as she fussed about with Ron's blankets, ignoring the mediwitch and her blatant hints about patients needing their rest. "If you do, would you bring Ron's assignments?"

"Mum!" Ron was indignant. He looked at Hermione. "I bet you've been keeping every single thing in separate colour-coded folders, haven't you?"

"Of course not!" said Hermione, blushing. "Well, they aren't colour-coded, but I did keep them in separate files...."

"Ha!" said Ron. "I knew it!"

"Well, you'll be glad I did when you see how much work you've got," said Hermione primly. "Besides, we've got - "

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, we've got N.E.W.T.s, I know," Ron scowled, as he always did at any mention of studying. "Well, it's not like I've got much to do in here anyway, so I might as well - study." He said this as if studying was a chore akin to scrubbing the Owlery floor with a toothbrush.

That was when the mediwitch threatened to hex them all if they didn't get out and let her patient get some rest.

"D'you think she's Madam Pomfrey's twin sister or something?" asked Ron.

Hermione tried not to laugh at the stern little witch as she left the room.

*****

Harry had not returned to Gryffindor Tower by the time Hermione got back from St. Mungo's. She assumed he would be out late with Remus, which was a good thing, and decided not to wait up for him. Harry was probably irritated with her anyway for having owled Remus without his knowledge, but she would have done it even if Remus hadn't told her to let him know about anything unusual. He'd get over his irritation soon enough.

Remus had never given them many details about what he'd been up to between the time he'd finished school and the year he had come to Hogwarts to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts, but given that his best friend had been at the top of Voldemort's hit list, she assumed Remus had at least had some role in fighting in the war against Voldemort. If so, then he'd probably done his share of things he wasn't proud of and hopefully could talk to Harry about what he'd felt when his hands were around Malfoy's throat.

The image of Malfoy's horrified face still stuck with her, and it made her shiver.

She yawned several times as she was getting ready for bed. Not only had she been up incredibly late the night before with her clandestine research - must get back in the library soon, she thought - but this had been an emotionally draining day, and she was exhausted.

But exhausted in a good way, because the thing she'd wanted more than anything else in the last few months - to have Ron, Harry, and herself in a room together and not fight - had finally happened.

Her last thought before drifting off to sleep was of the three of them sitting just the way they had after Ron hugged them, looking at each other without having to say anything. Words just weren't needed.

It was just the being there that mattered.

*****

She dreamed about butterflies again.

This time, instead of dozens of the dazzling, delicate creatures, there was only one - the one with the brilliant emerald wings that she'd tried to touch earlier. Instead of landing on her, as its companions had done the night before, it simply sat on a nearby leaf and looked at her.

She wanted to touch it, and yet she knew if she did, it would fly away, and then that horrible lonely emptiness would be there, just as it had been the night before. So she kept herself from reaching out, instead contenting herself with watching the slow rise and fall of the butterfly's wings, almost in time with her own breathing.

After what seemed like an eternity, but was probably only a few minutes, it left its perch on the leaf, fluttered down very close to her face, and landed on her lips. She didn't dare breathe, for fear of blowing it away, but simply looked at it (though that quickly became difficult as she felt she was going cross-eyed).

Finally, she couldn't resist, and reached up to touch it, though she knew what would happen if she did.

She only had a second to register the odd warmth and velvety softness under her fingers before it flew off, just as she'd known it would.

There was a loud thunk, a painful-sounding grunt, and an angry, spitting hiss all at once that caused Hermione to sit straight up in her bed, wide awake.

Harry was lying in the floor near the door, clutching his elbow and making a face. Crookshanks shot out from between his feet, hissing and spitting, with his bottle-brush tail flicking angrily back and forth.

"Harry! What happened?" said Hermione, jumping out of bed and going to him.

He sat up and flexed his arm experimentally, frowning at Crookshanks, who glared back. "I tripped over your cat."

"Yes, I see that," she said, "but what are you doing in here to trip over him in the first place?"

"Er...." Even in the half darkness of her room she could see that Harry's face had gone a very deep red. He looked as if he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. A very off-limits cookie jar.

Suddenly it dawned on her.

That wasn't just a dream. That was Harry.

"Harry Potter!" she yelped, and poked him hard in the chest with a finger. "What has got into you?"

"Er..." he said again, looking mortified. He scooted away from her until he backed into the door, and then got to his feet. "I'm very, very sorry, Hermione, really...I'll just go now." He reached for the door, but before he could open it Hermione had got to her feet and yanked his hand free of the knob, keeping a tight hold of his wrist.

"Harry, wait."

"I really should go," he said, not looking at her.

"I'm not mad," she said quietly.

"You're not?"

"No."

"Oh." He let out a deep breath.

"Harry, look at me."

He did, and Hermione almost fell over with what she saw in his eyes.

"Were you watching me while I was sleeping?" She tried very hard to keep her voice steady.

His face went red again, but he didn't look away. "Yeah."

I can't believe I'm going to ask this question. "Did you...kiss me while I was sleeping?"

"Er...yeah."

"Why?"

He shrugged slightly. "Because I couldn't help it."

"Last night too? That was you?"

"Yeah."

"Harry...."

"I shouldn't have. Look, I'll just go, okay? Forget it happened."

He turned again to open the door, but Hermione slipped between him and the door, tightening her grip on his wrist. He made an odd sort of noise as she brushed against him, and it made her spine tingle.

"Why didn't you just wake me up and kiss me properly?" Did I just say that? Yes, yes I did. Oh my.

"Er...well...I didn't think you'd want me to, for one," he said quietly, looking intently at a spot on the wall. "I mean, last night was kind of an impulse. I woke up and you were sleeping, and I thought about all the stuff you did for me. You looked - well, I came over and kissed you, just the once, but then you started to wake up, so I left. I thought maybe you wouldn't be too happy with me doing that. And then tonight, I was just coming to check that you got back okay, and I liked watching you sleep, and...well...."

Hermione's heart melted - along with that part of her brain that had been telling her that getting involved with her other best friend was a Very Bad Thing.

She gathered every ounce of Gryffindor courage she could muster, and said, "I'm awake now, and I would like it very much if you - "

She didn't get a chance to finish, as Harry's lips gently cut off her words.

It was like all of her senses were heightened to a point she'd never imagined. Harry tasted like butterbeer and chocolate, and smelled like soap and cool night air and something else that could only be Harry, and the feel of his perpetually messy hair in her fingers was like the softness of the butterfly wings in her dream, only this time she could run her fingers through it without being afraid that he would disappear. She pressed closer to him; he made that odd noise again and she hesitated, thinking she'd hurt him somehow.

"What's wrong?" she asked, reaching up to take off his glasses.

"Not a thing," he said, with a slightly goofy grin, and bent to kiss her.

Then she realized that odd noise was a good thing, and very much wanted to hear it again.

"Hermione," Harry said, his breath tickling her earlobe, sending delicious tingles up and down her back, "we could either stand here, or...."

"Mmm-hmmm...ooh...." He'd just done something interesting to her neck, right where it joined her shoulder. She hadn't realized that was a ticklish spot. Before she knew it, they were on her bed so quickly she thought they might have Apparated there (not that anyone could Apparate or Disapparate on Hogwarts grounds, of course, but it certainly felt like it).

Harry dug his wand out of his pocket, muttered several locking charms at the door, and tossed his wand on the bedside table. It missed, clattering to the floor, and he shrugged.

"Oh well," he said, wearing that goofy grin again, before turning his attention back to her.

Hermione couldn't remember ever feeling this blissfully happy. Not even the day she'd found out that she was a witch - and that had been one of the happiest days of her entire life.

Some time later, she pulled away from him and sighed. "We should probably stop, now, you know...." Or otherwise, we won't want to, was the rest of that thought.

"Mmm-hmmm," said Harry reluctantly, stretching out on his back. "But I don't want to leave."

"Then don't," she said, sliding beside him and resting her head on his chest. "Not yet, anyway."

He'd taken off his robes and shirt - rather, she had taken them off for him, though she was still wearing hers. She'd seen him without his shirt before, but the feel of her cheek on his bare skin was something else entirely. Her fingers trailed absently over his stomach (which made him tense up a bit - he was obviously ticklish), chest, and arms, enjoying the smooth feel of his skin against hers, stopping briefly in the crook of his arm where there was a very thin, silvery looking scar. She knew it was where Wormtail had cut him for blood for Voldemort's resurrection potion, and she touched it lightly.

He let out a little hiss of breath.

"Does it hurt?" she asked anxiously.

"No."

Her eyes flicked up to the other scar, the one he was famous for, the one that people always saw before they saw the real Harry, if they ever even bothered to look. Hermione realized that she was the only living person, other than Harry and Voldemort, who knew exactly what happened when he got that scar, because he'd shown her months ago. It felt strange to know something like that. She didn't know what made her do it, but she propped up on her elbow and gently planted a kiss on his scar.

He made that odd noise again and pulled her tightly to him.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to...."

"Oh, no," he said in a rather husky voice. "You know how I feel bad things through that scar from Voldemort? Well...that was the exact opposite of bad. As far away from bad as you could possibly get. As a matter of fact...you might not want to do that again if you don't want to...er...go past a certain point."

"Oh," she said, feeling her face burn at the idea. Then a thought crossed her mind. "Has anyone ever done that before?"

"No. Never." He stroked her hair lazily.

They lay there for a while, just enjoying the closeness. He was a good head taller than her when they were standing, but the difference seemed much less as they lay tangled together under the blankets. She shifted a bit, wanting to get closer to him, and looked up to see an utterly content expression on his face.

It just felt right. There was no other word for it.

Yet something was nibbling at her conscience.

And where does Ron fit in all of this? How, exactly, are you going to explain that while you weren't messing around back at Christmas, that you are messing around now? If you think he's going to say, "Good going, happy for you," then you are sadly mistaken.

"You're thinking about Ron, aren't you?"

Hermione was startled. "Yeah, how did you - "

"I could just tell." He rolled over on his side to face her, looking serious. "Don't misunderstand, Hermione - I'm really happy about this - you know, what just happened here with us. But where Ron's concerned, we have a problem."

"I talked to him a bit today," Hermione said.

"Did you talk about what happened at Christmas?"

"No...we almost did, and then we decided to talk about it later. We didn't want to fight."

"Oh," Harry said. "Well, here's the problem. We've told him over and over that nothing happened then, because it didn't. If we go to him in the next few days and tell him that we're...you know...." He sounded unsure of what to say next.

"We don't have to call it anything right now," she said.

"Right. Well, if we tell him about this now, what little bit of a truce we've made gets blown to hell. I don't want that, Hermione. I don't want to fight with Ron anymore. Ever."

"Me neither," she agreed.

"But if we don't say anything now...and he finds out or we tell him later, he won't believe us about earlier, and he'll be even angrier than he was before. So I don't know what to do." He rubbed his eyes in a sleepy gesture that Hermione found adorable in an almost child-like way.

"Maybe we shouldn't talk about it right now," she suggested, trying to stifle a yawn. "It's awfully late."

Harry groaned. "And Remus is coming round again in the morning."

"Did you talk to him? Did it help?"

"Yeah...we went for a drink and talked a while. It did help - I'm glad you owled him. Tomorrow he's taking me somewhere."

"Where?"

"I dunno." He yawned. "But if he comes round and finds me in here with you, I'll get that whole 'birds and the bees' lecture...."

Hermione laughed at the idea of Remus giving Harry that kind of talking-to. "So who did give you that lecture?"

"Mr. Weasley," said Harry. "He sat Ron and me down that summer after fourth year. I don't know who was more embarrassed, me or Ron. Mr. Weasley wasn't - but I guess after you've said that stuff so many times, it gets to be a habit. I'm just glad it wasn't Uncle - "

"Ew! Don't even say it!" said Hermione, not wanting to imagine his Uncle Vernon on the subject. The idea was too horrible to entertain for even a second.

Harry laughed, and stretched lazily. "Well, if I'm going, I better go."

"Yeah, you should."

Neither of them made any attempt to get up. Hermione didn't want him to go, but....

She poked him in the arm.

"Yeah, I'm going." He still didn't move.

"Harry...."

"I'm moving!" he said innocently. "Just very, very slowly." He kissed her again, very briefly, and before either of them could change their mind, he got up and fumbled around for his glasses and retrieved his robes and wand.

"I think we'll be back by lunch," he said as he put his glasses back on. "D'you want to go see Ron then?"

"Okay."

"Good night, then."

"Good night, Harry."

Hermione wished that he could have stayed there with her, because now that he was gone she felt very, very alone.