Becoming More

Chapter One

Awkward Circumstances

It was rather ironic, the situation that Harry and Hermione had found themselves in. Many students had taunted the two Gryffindors about the high probability of their becoming a couple, and the current domestic circumstances were uncanny. However, it wasn't a voluntary predicament; Draco Malfoy had taken over the duty of passing out cabin keys to the seventh year wizards and witches on the trip. Professor McGonagall had been adamant about limiting cabin pairings to same sex, but when Malfoy got a hold of the keys, that concept was completely thrown out the window.

"Potter, Granger, there's a quaint country house that you two might enjoy," Draco had said, throwing Harry a set of keys. Harry simply looked at Malfoy skeptically. "Draco..." The only explanation he received was a smirk and pair of raised eyebrows from the smug Slytherin. Without any further interrogations, Draco continued with his pairing of cabin mates.

Hermione nervously glanced at Harry out of the corner of her eye. Good, she thought, he looks just as uneasy about this as I am. After all, she had heard the countless tales of what happened in between the sheets during these trips. Even though she and Harry were only friends, Hermione couldn't help but ponder the possibilities. She recalled the story of a Gryffindor and Slytherin that had visited this place on their seventh year outing four years ago. They had come as 'just friends', but had left much more than that. As a shudder slowly crept up her spine, Hermione hoped Harry's male hormones wouldn't overpower his sense of rationality and personal dignity.

Draco tossed out the last pair of keys, and with a devilish twinkle in his eye, notified everyone that it was time to head for the cabins. Harry awkwardly stuck his hands in his pockets, and motioned with a slight head nod for Hermione to follow him. The two walked in silence until Draco brushed past, purposely bumping into Harry's shoulder. "So, Potter, prepared to score tonight?" he said, his arm draped around a smirking Blaise Zabini. Harry fought to keep his temper under control, so he was surprised when Hermione whipped out her wand and placed it at Draco's throat. Blaise backed off on instinct; she didn't want to interfere with a seething Hermione Granger. After all, this wasn't the first time something like this had occurred.

"You foul, loathsome, little cockroach!" Hermione yelled, her eyes livid. Draco quivered under the touch of her wand, and Harry's eyes grew wide.

"Hermione, don't! He's not worth it," he shouted. Only at Harry's voice did Hermione lower her wand.

"C'mon Harry, let's go."

The two Gryffindors stalked off to their cabin, Hermione still fuming. Harry turned the key in the handle of the door, and Hermione crossed her arms across her chest. After ten minutes, the door still wasn't open, and Hermione was becoming impatient. "What's taking so long?"

Harry sighed. "The key isn't working."

"Obviously."

"Well what would you like me to do about it?"

Hermione shoved Harry aside, pulling out her wand. "Alohamora!" Using a simple enchantment, the door swung open. Rolling her eyes, Hermione walked inside, Harry following her and closing the door behind them. The seventeen year old witch flung her bags onto the nearest couch and then plopped herself down. "Draco is the biggest git I've ever encountered in my life."

"Tell me about it." Harry concurred. Running his hand over the arm of the sofa, he wandered around aimlessly trying to get a feel for the place. He noticed a fireplace similar to the one in the Gryffindor common room and realized that all the furniture here was red and gold plaid. This trip was supposed to be an escape from Hogwarts and the wizarding world. However, it seemed as though evading their normalcy was impossible. Curious, Harry peered into the bedroom. A luxurious four-poster mahogany bed took up the majority of space; yet a secluded door inside the room revealed a private bathroom with marble flooring, bathtub, and sink.

"Harry?" Hermione's voice echoed from the other room. "What are you doing in there?"

Harry sighed and proceeded to head back into the room where Hermione sat. He plopped himself down beside her, smiling reluctantly. "What's the matter?" Hermione questioned. Harry detected a flicker of concern in her eyes, and he decided that he couldn't prevaricate matters.

"I'm bothered by what Draco said."

"About what?" Hermione sniggered. "Sleeping with me? Honestly, Harry, Malfoy is just trying to get under your skin. And it seems to be working."

Harry simply stared at her. "Getting under my skin? Hermione, who was the one who attacked him and almost hexed him?"

"Alright, alright," she confessed. "So I got a little irritated."

After receiving raised eyebrows from Harry, she threw her hands up in the air. "Okay, so I got a LOT irritated. But forgive and forget, Harry. He's a git, and he's made it his personal mission to annoy the bloody hell out of you. I wouldn't fret about it."

As Hermione pulled a book out of her bag and became absorbed in the novel, Harry couldn't help but be curious. It bothered him slightly that Hermione found the subject of sleeping with him hilarious. But as he pondered it further, his eyes grew wide. "Since when did that become important to me?" he thought aloud.

Hermione glanced up from the book that she was reading. "Sorry Harry, did you say something?"

Feeling his face grow flush, Harry stared at his feet. "It was nothing." Keen on avoiding another slip like that, Harry headed for the bedroom and some privacy. As he situated himself on the comfortable king size mattress, he idly pulled his wand out of his jeans pocket and used it to close the door. Noticing the fireplace in the room, he thought of Sirius. It had been quite awhile since his death, two years in fact. Harry had convinced himself that Sirius was not dead, but no one has ever evaded death once Voldemort has decided that would be his or her fate. No one except Harry of course.

Hermione had also rebutted Sirius' death. That fatal day in the Ministry of Magic where Harry had discovered the prophecy and found himself face to face with a group of Death Eaters and Lord Voldemort, Sirius had come to save him. Sirius had battled with Bellatrix Lestrange until a jet of light had hit him square in the chest, knocking him behind the curtain. Everyone insisted that he was dead, but Hermione refuted everything that they had to say. "He can't possibly be dead!! When a wizard uses the Avada Kedavara curse, a jet of green light shoots out of their wand. Bellatrix's wand produced red light!! Sirius cannot possibly be dead!!"

Harry had appreciated Hermione's efforts to convince others of the truth, but it had done nothing. Harry was even starting to doubt if Sirius was still alive. After all, it'd been two years. There was nothing he or anybody could do to bring him back. Harry would just have to accept his godfather's fate, whatever it was.

"Harry! Harry, for heaven's sake, what are you doing in there?" Hermione's voice shook Harry out of his thoughts.

"Just thinking is all."

Hermione pushed the door open a crack. "Well, you're starting to frighten me. Shutting yourself away from the world, honestly. People are going to start to think you've gone mental," she said with a smile.

"As if they don't already?"

"Oh right," she said, grinning. "You and Dumbledore are both nutters." Sitting down on the bed next to Harry, her expression reflected apprehension. "But seriously Harry, are you okay?" She looked into his emerald green eyes, and for once, couldn't tell how he was feeling.

"Yeah. I was just thinking about Sirius and that day at the Ministry. It's been two years, Hermione," he said, placing his hand atop hers and sitting upright. "Without you, I don't think I would have been able to make it through those two years." He watched as a smile crept onto her face and she blushed wildly. "It's still been so difficult, though. No one realizes that I didn't ask for the fame, and if I could, I would rather be just an ordinary wizard."

"Harry, you'd never be able to be an ordinary wizard," Hermione interjected. "You care too much for others, always trying to make the world a better place. You're a hero at heart, not because of your past. Even if you didn't escape Voldemort, or he never tried to kill you in the first place, you'd still be fighting the dark things in this world. It's just who you are."

Harry smiled from ear to ear. "Remind me if I ever lose faith in myself to come to talk to you, 'Mione." Beaming, Hermione nodded her head.

"God, woman, you're amazing!" Harry leapt off of the bed and engulfed Hermione in his arms, twirling her around.

"Now isn't this better than worrying about some idiotic thing that Draco said?" Hermione whispered in Harry's ear. Harry set her down, his hands still clasped to her waist.

"Much better," he admitted. "Yet there's still something missing." Hermione noticed the sudden glazed look in Harry's eyes, and was suddenly fearful of the next thing to come out of his mouth. And when it did, Hermione almost burst into tears. "Ron."

The two had agreed not to bring up the subject of their best friend around each other, for it was just too painful. Not only was it horrible enough that he was dead, but both felt as if his death was their fault. "Harry...." Hermione whispered.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," Harry muttered. "I don't know what made me say that."

Hermione wrapped her arms around Harry, sighing heavily. "It's okay. We all miss him."