Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Damaged Bridges	By : Gandalfs-Beard Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Harry/Hermione Views: 46870 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 6
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, all rights belong to Rowling and Warner Bros, nor do I make any money from the production of this work.

Chapter List
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His Mother's Eyes

Despite the calming draught that Harry had received from Madam Pomfrey following the conversation with Dumbledore, and after she’d healed his cracked knuckles, Harry’s stomach curdled bitterly when he returned to his dormitory and opened his trunk, staring at the Marauders’ Map. How the hell could he have forgotten about it?
Everything could have been avoided had he remembered the map. Harry felt like slamming his head into the wall until he was comatose. This was just as bad as never opening the present that Sirius had given him - worse even; Harry had been clueless as to the precise nature of the gift from Sirius, but the Map was already one of Harry’s most prized possessions and had been used on more than one occasion.
Flinging the map furiously into his rucksack with some of his clothes and his invisibility cloak, he was glad that no-one else was in the dormitory as they were already packed and milling in the entrance hall preparing to leave for the Hogwarts Express.
Harry had no idea how he was going to face the rest of the Weasleys, with whom he was supposed to spending Christmas. Harry could barely even look at Ron at the moment, and he was so angry at the Twins for selling love potions that he didn’t know how he was going to react when he saw them again.
Not to mention that Harry’s only real concern at the moment was looking after Hermione, but she was hurriedly preparing to return to her parents for Christmas. He threw his rucksack over his shoulder and ran down the stairs, unwilling to leave Hermione alone for any longer than he had to.
Harry was surprised to see her sitting on the sofa in front of the fire, crying softly with her hands covering her face, and no packed bags.
“Hermione?”
She looked up at Harry and his heart crumbled to see the anguish in her eyes. Harry didn’t know what to say; he stood there awkwardly for a moment, hoping Hermione would say something. After a moment passed, and it was clear that Hermione didn’t know what to say either, Harry cleared his throat.
“Er... We’re going to be late. You don’t want to miss the train do you?”
“I... I can’t...” Hermione heaved a sob and tried to start again. “I can’t go home like this. I can’t face my parents...”
“But... er... Why not?” Harry was confused. “Won’t you feel a bit better with them to comfort you?”
Hermione shook her head, her lower lip trembling. “I can’t tell them what happened... I just can’t.”
Harry frowned. His mind churned, trying to make sense of Hemione’s quandary. He’d never really met her parents properly the day he’d seen them in Diagon Alley - the day that Lucius Malfoy had slipped Ginny Weasley Voldemort’s diary and got into a fight with Mr Weasley. But they had seemed alright, and Hermione had never said anything but nice things about them.
“Won’t... won’t they understand? They love you don’t they?”
“Of course they do, Harry!” Hermione said a bit more shrilly than she had intended. She bit her lip and looked apologetic. “It... it’s just hard. I barely tell them anything important about Hogwarts or the wizard world anymore - just my schoolwork. I haven’t since after I told them about the troll incident and helping Hagrid get rid of the dragon.
“Dad - he had almost wanted to pull me out of Hogwarts. I didn’t dare tell them about Voldemort trying to get the Philosopher’s Stone. And it only got worse after that day in Diagon Alley. They were frightened enough of the wizard world as it is - Dad especially. I couldn’t tell them about being part cat or the Basilisk... or anything else really.
“I think Mum would be a bit more understanding, but Dad... Anyway, if I told them what happened to me with McLaggen, they’d have a fit!”
“Well, you’re over seventeen. They can’t pull you out of Hogwarts now!” Harry pointed out reasonably. “And it could’ve happened anywhere... even in a muggle mixed boarding school. They can’t blame you...”
Hermione flushed, looking deeply ashamed of herself as her glistening eyelashes cast down. That’s when all the puzzle pieces fell into place in Harry’s brain.
“Oh!” said Harry sadly, acutely sensing Hermione’s humiliation. “Don’t... do you really think they wouldn’t understand why you went to the party with McLaggen then?”
Her eyes still fixed on the floor, Hermione trembled.
“Mum might... I suppose,” she muttered. “I’m not so sure about Dad.”
Harry sighed and rubbed at his itching scar, feeling guilty again, recalling his own initial reaction after Hermione had ditched McLaggen under the mistletoe, and Ron’s attitude. It seemed an all too common response for guys to immediately blame the girl for getting into bad situations. He could only imagine how a father might react to that set of circumstances. For Hermione to be afraid of her own father’s possible reaction made Harry feel a bit nauseous.
“What if... what if I came with you?” Harry asked tentatively. Hermione looked up, her big brown eyes widening in surprise.
“You would do that for me? What about the Weasleys - they’ll be expecting you.”
“I’d do anything for you Hermione! I mean it! And... and honestly, I’d rather be with you. I don’t really feel like being around the Weasleys right now - well, Ron mostly, as he’s still being a bit of a prat at the moment.”
Harry wondered if he’d made a mistake bringing up Ron, because Hermione’s pooling eyes began leaking tears again. He was startled when Hermione suddenly flung herself on him.
“Th...thank you Harry!” she sniffled, squeezing him tightly. “I’d like that very much!”
After a moment passed, Hermione quickly jogged up the stairs and returned a few minutes later with a rucksack slung over one shoulder. By the time Harry and Hermione reached the entrance hall, students were already filing out through the front doors into the carriages which would be carrying them to the Hogsmeade railway station.
For a moment Harry breathed a sigh of relief, then he groaned, spying Ron saying a thoroughly nonverbal goodbye to Lavender. Hermione stiffened, her eyes narrowing at Ron. Catching her expression, Harry couldn’t help feeling a little tingle of something uncomfortable which he had never had the cognizance to feel before regarding Hermione.
Lavender clambered into a carriage with Parvati, and spying Hermione, they both shot her sympathetic looks. Parvati jumped back out of the carriage and to Hermione’s great surprise gave her a hug.
“I’m so sorry Hermione,” Parvati murmured. “That was awful. I hope you manage to have a nice Christmas.” Parvati cannily noted Harry’s close proximity to Hermione as she climbed back into the carriage. “Good for you Harry. I hope you broke McLaggen’s nose.”
“...And knocked out a few of his teeth,” Lavender added. “Look after Hermione, Harry,” she concluded meaningfully. Ron gawked a bit at Harry and Hermione, pondering the significance of his girlfriend’s meaningful tone.
Harry almost laughed at Ron’s expression and comically stained mouth, then remembered that he was cross with Ron at the moment. Nonetheless, Harry managed a stiff sort of smile. Hermione seemed to be similarly afflicted, not sure what to say to Ron, but she didn’t bother to try hiding her ambivalence.
Ron turned slightly pink. Feeling somewhat abashed, he avoided Hermione’s glare and looked at Harry instead.
“Er... Yeah, good job nailing McLaggen, Harry! I’m sorry I held you back! The bastard had it coming...” Ron tried not to look Hermione directly in the eye when he mumbled at her, “Sorry Hermione. Hope your Christmas is alright.”
“So... er... you coming Harry?” asked Ron, puzzled when Harry made no move to get on the carriage which also held Seamus, Dean Thomas, and Ginny - who was also peering sympathetically at Hermione.
“Erm...” Harry swallowed nervously, hoping Ron wouldn’t make a scene. “Er... I’m going to stay with Hermione for Christmas instead.”
Ron’s eyes caught Hermione’s hand wrapped tightly around one of Harry’s; his ears turned even redder and his eyes narrowed.
“Oh! I see. Fine! ... Happy Christmas you two!” Ron muttered crossly as he climbed into the carriage. “Ow!” he blurted out when Ginny swatted his shoulder. “What was that for?”
“For being a prat, you dimwit! Don’t be so mean.”
“I wasn’t being mean,” said Ron in a wounded tone.
“Then stop acting all jealous - especially after what Hermione’s just been through. You’ve got a girlfriend,” Ginny snapped.
Harry couldn’t help grinning as the carriage which held the bickering pair of Weasleys began rolling away, suddenly feeling more hopeful that they’d all manage to be proper friends again eventually. He gave the Thestral attached to the carriage in front of him a pet before helping Hermione climb aboard.

~o0o~
Fawkes ruffled his scarlet and gold feathers, letting out a little trill of admonishment as Dumbledore poured himself a snifter of Dragon Barrel Brandy. Dumbledore gave the phoenix a look and lifted the goblet to his lips for a good swallow when there was a knock on his office door.
Sighing, Dumbledore placed the snifter back on the desk.
“Come in,” he beckoned, unsurprised to see a very severe looking Professor McGonagall in his doorway.
The deputy headmistress eyed the glass of brandy on the desk with apparent disapproval as she closed the door behind her.
“A bit early, isn’t it?”
“So Fawkes tells me,” Dumbledore returned politely, waiting for the dam to burst. He didn’t have long to wait.
“So! Potter was right on the mark then!” McGonagall stated acidly. “Malfoy was behind the near murder of Katie Bell after all... and you knew!” McGonagall’s voice began to rise. “You knew that Malfoy was on a murderous rampage and so did Severus! This is absolutely outrageous! ... Putting the entire student body at risk for the sake of protecting one Death Eater’s boy - a boy well-known to harbour malevolent intentions - for purposes unknown...”
“Minerva...”
“Don’t you dare ‘Minerva’ me!” snapped McGonagall, waving her arms furiously. “It’s bad enough that every child in this school faces mortal peril with V...Voldemort at large, but Hogwarts is supposed to be a safe haven.
“And to make matters worse, how is my word supposed carry any authority with Mr Potter when he clearly knows more about what is going on around here than I do? How are punishments for his reckless behaviour - well intentioned as it nearly always is - to carry any moral weight when those with ill-intent are left unpunished?
“Time and again I have defended your decisions to Potter and tried to impress upon him that you knew what was for the best. Potter must think me a hypocrite and a complete fool! And he would be right...”
Taking advantage of Professor McGonagall’s pause to take a breath, Dumbledore interjected.
“The boy has the highest regard for you Minerva, I can assure you. Me on the other hand... not so much. I am afraid Minerva... afraid that in my exceeding arrogance that I may have doomed the entire wizard world and consigned its most selfless young hero to an altogether undeserved fate - a possibly meaningless death should even the smallest part of my plans unravel.
“All for the sake of trying to save the soul of someone less than deserving of being saved. Unfortunately, certain wheels have been set in motion, and I am uncertain as to how to reverse them. It is I who is the fool! A fool blinded by the sense that I alone could see all potentialities, when that very arrogance is what limited my vision...”
Professor McGonagall’s breath caught in surprise, her eyebrows arching impressively. She was thoroughly taken aback to see the headmaster looking so abject.
“What... What do you mean Albus?”
“I mean, Minerva, that I am dying - slowly. And I had formulated a plan based on that very fact, with the knowledge that young Mr Malfoy has been tasked with murdering me by Voldemort himself.
“In an ill-advised effort to save Draco Malfoy’s soul, and to set my plan in motion, I asked Severus to take upon himself the task of killing me. And now, Severus stands in jeopardy because of an oath - an Unbreakable Vow - which he made to Narcissa Malfoy to protect Draco.
“And Harry... while making every attempt to protect young Mr Malfoy and his family, I was willing to send Harry to his potential death - to make the ultimate sacrifice. How grotesquely unfair! How unjust!
“How cruel am I to ask a young boy to meekly allow himself to be slaughtered while trying to protect murderers and their murderous scion from Voldemort’s wrath, with no guarantee that said young boy could be resuscitated?
“A young boy whom I care about deeply, as if he were my own grandson. Yet I still convinced myself that it was necessary - that the ends justified the means. And I took some comfort in knowing that Harry himself was willingly prepared to do whatever it took to end Voldemort, and that due to certain circumstances there would be a slight possibility that Harry might yet survive the ordeal.
“For all my wisdom, I am not wise. And Harry proved today - beyond all doubt - that he is the wiser and more courageous man by far!
“Harry was right - as are you Minerva. How many others could die at Draco Malfoy’s hands while I await him to reach the fruition of his plans? I see now how utterly foolhardy and reckless my plan was. In comparison, Harry’s own reckless excursions are vastly more clear-sighted and thought-out than my meticulously crafted plans.
“I have wronged him - abused his trust in me, time and time again. As I have abused yours. I discovered today, during a short conversation with Harry and Miss Granger following the discussion with Severus, that you were correct to admonish me all those years ago for leaving Harry with the Dursleys.
“Things there were much worse than I had imagined. In my curiosity as to how deeply I had wounded Harry, I asked him to start at the beginning. Of course, being who he is, Harry was loath to be completely open about his mistreatment, and downplayed his circumstances, in large part due to believing such mistreatment to be normal behaviour for most adults.
“Yet he could not help thinking of the many instances in which he had been struck, or caged like an animal. And I very clearly saw in his mind the memories. Vernon Dursley and his son were by far the worst and most regular violators of Harry’s physical sovereignty, but Petunia was no less at fault.
“There were a number of instances in which she slapped Harry and painfully yanked his ears - minor incidents to be sure, compared to Vernon’s blows with fists and belt, which were never enough to seriously injure, but certainly enough to damage any young person’s heart. But the incident which troubles me the most is one in which Petunia very nearly killed Harry during the summer before Second Year. Harry barely managed to avoid a heavy blow aimed at his head with a frying pan.
“It is only by sheer happenstance that Harry is still with us today to face Voldemort. Voldemort could have won without ever lifting a finger himself... And it is all my fault.
“We are very fortunate, Minerva - fortunate that Harry has his mother’s soul. Most boys who have endured as much as Harry has in his short life would have long been consumed by the darkness and resentment, and been driven into the arms of those such as Voldemort.
“But Harry’s light - his purity of spirit and his kind soul - that which could have only come from his mother, Lily - shines so brightly, that no shadow can remain long in its presence. Yet due to my arrogance and blindness in treating Harry like a Pawn on the chessboard, instead of the Knight which he truly is, I almost drove Harry away.
“I have managed to extend an olive branch to Harry this morning, and promised that henceforth we shall work as partners - in open communication with each other - in the fight against Voldemort. But my work rebuilding that trust between us is still cut out for me, and I am at a loss in terms of how to proceed from this point forward.
“I would simply put an end to young Malfoy’s schemes right here and now and cut my losses, letting the chips fall where they may, but now Severus is also on the block.... And I welcome any counsel that you may provide.”
Looking ancient and weary, it appeared that Dumbledore had concluded his confession.
McGonagall was shaken to the core by his frank admissions. Her mind whirled chaotically as it tried to grasp the enormity of the situation. Knees wobbling weakly, McGonagall plonked herself in one of the poofy chintz armchairs which she usually regarded with disdain, eyeing again the glass and bottle of brandy on the desk.
“Well, this is all quite shocking I must say, Albus. But to begin, how about you pour me one of those...”

~o0o~
His eyes!
Her eyes!
He had her eyes - Lily’s eyes!
Harry Potter had his mother’s eyes!
Severus Snape staggered into his office and slammed the door behind him, his face wrought with bitter agony, tears dripping from his hooked nose.
Reaching into one of the drawers of his desk, Snape retrieved a bottle of Ogden’s Finest and a shot glass. He poured a glass of the firewhiskey and downed it in a single gulp, then poured himself another and swallowed it whole as well.
Snape had been vaguely aware that behind those stupid round glasses, Harry’s eyes weren’t precisely the same as his father’s and that they were green. But that had seemed insignificant in light of the boy’s overall appearance.
There had been no question in Snape’s mind that Harry was his father to the very bone. And Snape had ignored anything which might contradict that comfortable notion. Harry’s night-time prowlings and apparent disregard for the rules had simply solidified Snape’s views
But being forced by the headmaster to listen to Harry Potter uninterrupted had tilted Snape’s entire world. And when Harry had removed his glasses and peered at him with Lily’s tear-filled eyes, the Hard-Truths with which Harry had bludgeoned Snape burned like brimstone in the depths of his soul.
Snape knew that he’d never be able to tolerate Harry’s presence for any great length of time, but no longer could Snape live with his carefully crafted delusions about Harry’s inner-nature. There was no question about it, Harry was Lily to the core of his soul - if “his” was even the correct pronoun for who Harry truly was on the inside, which Snape very much doubted now that the mote had been plucked from his eye.
But it didn’t make Snape feel any better; his self-loathing was a thousand times worse for taking the truth to heart. Snape had treated Lily’s “son” abysmally for years, and he knew that Lily would be horrified if she knew of the abuse which he had heaped upon Harry.
Snape knew that he didn’t deserve an ounce of Lily’s forgiveness, but if there was any small measure by which Snape could live with himself, he would do everything in his power to see Harry live beyond the Dark Lord’s passing, Dumbledore’s plans be damned.

~o0o~
Hermione tried to avoid everyone’s gaze as she and Harry searched for an empty compartment on the Hogwarts Express, but it wasn’t so easy to avoid the whispers. Her cheeks burned in humiliation at some of the nastier comments, and she could hear Harry’s teeth grinding as he struggled to maintain his composure.
“Liar,” “Tramp,” and “Slut” were among the kinder comments hissed under breaths, and Hermione had to grab Harry’s arm more than once to prevent him from hexing anyone. But she almost let his arm go when they both overheard someone loudly say, “I heard she was begging for a good hard shag!”
“Piss off, Smith!” Harry snarled at Zachariah Smith as Hermione tried to drag Harry away. “You’re lucky I don’t just knock your teeth out and shove out the window right now...”
“It’s alright Harry,” Hermione pleaded. “Leave it...”
Harry gave Smith one more glower and they continued down the aisle. They spotted Luna sitting in a compartment with Neville, Susan Bones, and Hannah Abbott. Luna beckoned, but Hermione was grateful that Harry seemed to have picked up on her need to be alone when he shook his head and politely thanked Luna.
Finally, at the very end of the train, Hermione and Harry found an empty compartment. Harry locked the door and drew the curtain across the window to the aisle. Taking seat next to one another, Hermione had thought that she would be more uncomfortable in Harry’s presence than she was.
Everything she had ever heard of girls and women who had shared similar experiences to her own had suggested that many often tended to withdraw and pull away from intimate contact, even from those whom they loved.
And Hermione thought she probably would have from anyone else, even Ron when he was in his better moods. But there was something about Harry which was very different. He just wasn’t like most guys. Certainly, sometimes Harry could be just as dense as any other boy, but something about him just made her feel safe - it always had.
Hermione caught a glimpse of Harry’s gentle green eyes - those eyes which she had always thought too pretty to be a boy’s eyes - as she sat next to Harry and smiled wanly at him.
Harry had never looked so nervous. Hermione could see him gulping as she rested against him. Hoping she wasn’t going to freak Harry out any more than he already was, Hermione took a chance.
“Could you... could you just hold me please, Harry?” she asked.
“Er... Yeah! Okay Hermione.” Harry tentatively put an arm around her and she snuggled closer, nestling into the crook of his shoulder.
The wheels of the train let out an ear-piercing shriek as it lurched into motion, clattering along the tracks. Hermione and Harry sat in silence, together, and yet each alone with their thoughts as the snowy landscape of the Scottish Highlands sped by their window.
Nearly an hour passed that way, and despite everything that had happened in the last twelve hours Hermione began to feel happier and more content than at any time she had in the previous weeks. Everything had steadily declined from that moment in the greenhouse when Ron had angrily suggested that Hermione take McLaggen to Slughorn’s Christmas Party.
Hermione knew now that it had been a mistake to ever think that she and Ron could have had a future together - they were fundamentally incompatible. But she couldn’t help having felt close to him, as she had to Harry. They had all shared so much together, and despite all of Ron’s rudeness, thickness, and insecurities, behind all of his immaturity and his damaged emotional core there was a kind person who made Hermione laugh.
But making her laugh wasn’t enough to get past the fact that Ron infuriated her to no end, driving her to distraction, even when he wasn’t being deliberately rude to her or belittling her pursuits and interests. Ron brought out a side of Hermione’s personality that she despised. Nobody made her as angry as Ron did - not even Malfoy or Snape, both of whom she hated with every fibre of her being.
And making Hermione laugh wasn’t enough to get past the fact that Ron was lazy and intellectually incurious. It was a constant source of surprise to Hermione that Ron was as good at chess as he was. There was no other indication that the boy had an intellectual bone in his body.
Harry at least had the excuse of being distracted from schoolwork by the constant attempts on his life year after year. Yet Harry was at least interested in learning most of his subjects, and he always managed to show up at the end of every summer with his homework done - unlike Ron who usually just scrawled a few lines on pieces of parchment just before the train rounded the last bend to Hogwarts.
And Harry had proved this year that with a professional teacher who encouraged him instead of offering nothing but humiliation and harassment, that he could follow instructions more than competently and produce exceptional potions. One could only imagine how brilliant Harry might be in potions today if he’d had that sort of encouragement from his very first year.
Hermione hated herself for allowing her concern for Harry’s safety and her jealousy of the “Half-Blood Prince” to colour her views of the “Prince’s” book. There was no question that the author of the annotations had been an outstanding potioneer. She shouldn’t begrudge Harry the opportunity to learn from the “Prince’s” notes instead of her notes.
Hermione vowed to stop pestering Harry about the book. Maybe... maybe they could even share it, if Harry weren’t already too annoyed with her about the whole situation.
And she hoped Harry wasn’t too aggravated with her after she’d been so wrong about Malfoy. That disgusting little worm really had stepped into his father’s shoes after all. Hermione wasn’t even sure why she hadn’t believed Harry to begin with. It only made sense that Malfoy would start working for Voldemort at the earliest opportunity.
It was Harry who finally broke the silence while Hermione continued to ruminate in the comfort of Harry’s embrace. Harry awkwardly cleared his throat.
“Er... Hermione, I, erm... I hope you don’t mind me asking, but is it true? D’you really have feelings for me? It’s just... I overheard you, and I’m not sure if it was just something weird about the, er... potion. I’m sorry to ask - I’m not trying to upset you?”
Hermione trembled, not sure how to respond. What if she had been imagining things when she’d seen the conviction and affection in Harry’s eyes?
Harry had always been kind to Hermione whenever she was upset, and he’d always tried his best to protect her from danger. This could just be another one of those instances. If Harry was still more interested in Ginny than he was in her, the last thing Hermione wanted to do was confuse Harry and come between him and Ginny.
“I’m sorry,” said Harry, looking distraught when Hermione didn’t respond right away. “Forget I asked! I’m just being stupid! The lastthing you probably want to think about is relationships right now.”
“It’s alright Harry,” Hermione said finally, letting out a rueful laugh. “I don’t mind. That’s actually all I’ve been thinking about this whole time - how I’ve been letting my feelings ruin everything between us...”
“Oh!” said Harry, trying not to sound dejected. Hermione suddenly realised that Harry had taken her the wrong way.
“I’m sorry Harry! That didn’t come out quite right! Yes... I do have feelings for you. I’ve really liked you ever since the troll. But I don’t want to spoil things for you with Ginny...”
“But she’s with Dean!” said Harry, looking puzzled.
“I know! But she still likes you. She’s just moved on because she wasn’t sure if you’d ever see her as more than a sort of sister. And I know you’ve been looking at her as a bit more than that lately.”
“Oh!” Harry’s eyebrows popped up, disappearing into his messy fringe. “Well, to be honest, I’m really not sure how I feel about Ginny. I mean - yeah, I was sort of noticing her more as a... er... girl, than a sister I suppose. But it’s all so confusing with her. I don’t really know her like I know you... and... and then there’s Ron...
“I dunno... It’s not so confusing with you, Hermione! I know I’ve been too bloody thick to notice before now, but... this feels right to me - being here with you - like this! It’s always felt right and I’ve only just realised it! But...”
“...then there’s Ron,” Hermione sighed, finishing Harry’s sentence. “I’m really not at all interested in Ron in that way anymore, Harry. This whole business with Slughorn’s party and Lavender, and McLaggen, has thoroughly finished me as far as Ron’s concerned... in a romantic way, anyway.
“I like him enough to still be friends, but I’m fairly certain that I’ve lost Ron as a good friend, the way he’s been acting towards me lately. I couldn’t bear to lose you too, Harry. I know how jealous Ron would get if you and I ever got together officially, and... and I don’t want to come between you and Ron any more than I wanted to come between you and Ginny.”
“Honestly, I’m a bit off Ron myself at the moment,” said Harry. “I know there’s an alright bloke in there somewhere, and I know that eventually he’ll come around - he usually does. But for right now... bugger him! He’s got Lavender! I just hope he’s treating her nicely and not just using her.”
There was quiet again in the compartment, and all that could be heard was the clickety-clack of the wheels on the track. It was an intense sort of quiet as Hermione and Harry peered into each other’s eyes questioningly.
“So... er... Where does that leave us, Harry?”
“Erm... Well, all I really know is that you mean more to me than anything Hermione! If you want me to get rid that stupid Potions book, I will. But I’ll understand if what happened with McLaggen has put you off wanting a boyfriend altogether, and... and I’m perfectly happy to wait until you’re ready, if that’s what you want...”
A sudden swell of elation crashed through Hermione like a tidal wave, nearly wiping out every horrid feeling clouding her soul. For a brief moment, Hermione almost forgot about McLaggen, and to Harry’s great surprise she gave him a peck on the lips and fluttered her eyelashes shyly.
“I... I think that’s about the best I can offer you at the moment Harry - well, that and cuddles - I’m not sure how long it’ll be before I’m able to, er... get past last night. But if it’s enough for you, I’d be very happy to consider you my boyfriend.”
“That’s more than enough,” croaked Harry.
Hermione watched an array of emotions flicker across Harry’s visage, the corners of his lips twitching up as if to grin, the pooling of his iridescent green eyes which bespoke some sort of anguish. And before she could stop herself, Hermione was kissing Harry again, one hand cradling his head as their lips mingled in passion...
AN:
@ Meltyman: Thank you! :-)
I realise now that I forgot to add a very important tag to the summary. Harry forgetting about the Marauders' Map is a key plot point, rather than a plot hole, in keeping with his characterisation in fifth and sixth year.
This is Angry!Canon!Harry from fifth and sixth year who lets his emotions run away with him. In fifth year, he forgets that Sirius gave Harry a means to communicate with him, and in sixth year, Harry gets carried away and tests an entirely unknown spell with unknown effects (sectumsempra) on Draco (who arguably deserves it after nearly killing Katie and Ron) - which was a really stupid thing to do.
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Damaged Bridges