We Were There

A/N: Harry and Hermione is officially my favorite pairing from the Universe. With that note taken, I plan on being a primarily Harry/Hermione author. However, I do have a few ideas for some FW&GW/HG, DM/HG, and SB/HG! Have fun reading!

Disclaimer: I do not make money, nor will I. This is a fanfiction. I don't own Harry Potter, and never will-as saddening as that is.
_________________________________


Chapter 3
April 4, 2001


The sun hurt her skin. It felt as if some force was dragging her through a pit of knives, yet when she went to try and get up, her legs wouldn't allow her to. She felt helpless and didn't know what to do. She hated feeling like this. In all truth, this was her worst fear. Hermione thrived best when she held control of life and the events that happen in it.

Everything went black. She saw the moon against the surface of the starry sky. The lunar light beamed from the orb of white radiantly. It simply took her breath away. All of the pain she previously felt was gone. She was grateful. She stood up and noticed that she stood on water that reflected the blackness of the night sky beautifully.

Suddenly, an image of her was shadowed underneath where she stood. The moon bled through, casting itself as the background. Then, a drop of rain fell onto the surface of the water, causing it to ripple out at least fifty feet away from the center of where Hermione stood. The serene image of the night faded and as Hermione still glanced downward at her reflection, the water changed to the color of orange. And the water below her feet began to burn.

Hermione sprinted for her life, but the water felt like oil. It began to stick to her like tar and abruptly she was forced to stop her struggle. She noticed she was beginning to sink through the orange substance. It boiled against her skin and she cried out in a burst of pain. But no one could hear. Her hand lamely reached out, and to no avail, it went cold and untouched. Help was nowhere in sight. Her eyes fluttered shut and her body fell limp against the smoldering torture.

And then there was light, a bright one that tore her from her subconscious. Hesitantly, she opened her eyes. She lay upon a small mound, sort of like a hill, with a single tree posing as her form of shelter from the unwavering light. The shade extended over the entirety of the small grassy and flourishing mound. She smiled unconsciously. Pure peacefulness showered her. Her legs forced her to stand and she twirled around, seeing a lone broom floating above the blanket of white that surrounded the mound. The broom was about ten meters away.

Before she could walk to the edge of the small grassy hill, a hand caught hers. She turned around, seeing a tall figure drenched in a black cloak. The person's entire body, all except their arm, was disguised within the covering, so she didn't know who it was. The hand was warm, tender, yet dangerous. The person in black took a step closer towards her cautiously. "What are you doing here? How are you here?" the person pressed. She took note of the tone and pitch of the voice. The person was a man, standing not much taller than she.

She couldn't speak. Though she didn't think she knew anyone who walked around in a black cloak, she felt surprisingly comfortable around this man she just met. The shade of the tree gave him the precise amount of darkness to conceal his face, though she saw up to the bottom of his nose, just above his lower cheeks. Hermione saw a scar running along under this man's left cheekbone, extending about three inches. She didn't know why, but her finger traced it and he grabbed her hand in his palm. At first his grip was hard, forceful, and cold, but immediately she noticed that it became warm again, soft, and almost mellow. Her hand flattened against his cheek, her thumb stroking his coarse skin. She felt his head leaning into her hand.

Her heart fluttered as she smiled, "Where am I?"

The man threw her hand away and turned his back to her. She felt alone, oddly. His head faintly glanced back to her. She saw his flat mouth rise into a smile. She couldn't help, but to turn away, blushing some. She found it hard to breathe, also.

"Et Eicht Vieldo," he replied quiet.

She grew very perplexed and frustrated, not knowing what he had said. "For those who speak English, please," she retorted with a soft chuckle.

She didn't see him move so far away from her. He turned around and nearly ran towards her. Standing her ground, she watched him place his exposed hands on her upper arms, while his head bent down the few inches to hers. Their lips touched and instantly, she melted into him. This kiss was so familiar, yet so unknown. Her arms wrapped themselves around his torso and she rose up only an inch on the front of her feet, giving her more height and allotting them to give more to their kiss. His tongue dominated her senses and she felt his tongue prodding at her mouth. She obeyed and opened up, feeling him enter her demandingly.

His arms tightened around her body protectively, though she didn't mind. For all she cared for, she was his. At least for now, she was. Above everything, this kiss possessed more feeling than any kiss she recalled between any other person and herself. She shivered from his touch. Soon, she also explored his kiss and mouth with her own tongue. Then, everything became frigid and lonely.

She opened her eyes and he was gone.

"Go back to your own reality, Hermione. Wake up, now." So she did.

Upon the slamming of a door, Hermione rose from her deep sleep. She'd had such a weird dream, especially of the man who only left her with about a trillion questions. Her hands supported her throbbing head and she sighed, crawling out of the bed. She noticed Harry was no longer around. Walking skeptically to the door, she placed her right hand on the small doorknob. Her hand rested there for a moment. "What if he had to go to work?" she asked herself out loud.

That thought only gave her worry, so she ran out of the door and downstairs. "Harry?" she called. Her feet felt as if they wouldn't produce enough speed. "Harry!" she shouted. A loud clamor of noise sounded off from the direction of the kitchen, so she sprinted off towards the kitchen. "Harry!" she hollered, her head glancing in all directions. As soon as she reached the kitchen, she saw a knife on the floor. Bread, peanut butter, and jelly were also splayed about the tile flooring. She sighed, looking over to the left. "Harry."

She rushed to him. He sat on the floor. Harry looked at her through his glasses, purely stunned. "W-What do you want?" he rushed. Hermione noticed that he looked at the floor in the opposite direction where she cowered down next to him. She saw his cheeks turn pinker than normal.

"Harry, was there some emergency at the ministry? What's going on?" she demanded. How dare he act weird and not have the courage to explain!

He seemed to relax a bit, "What do you mean? Of course there isn't an emergency!"

She drew her head back somewhat and became very confused, "You don't have to raise your voice at me, Harry! You suddenly slammed the door, waking me from my sleep! I would obviously think that, so hush!"

She lowered herself to sit next to him. He scooted closer and she looked to him. "Hermione, I-I'm dreadfully sorry that I woke you. Are you saying that you woke up when I left my room?"

Her eyebrows furrowed, "Harry, what does that mean?"

"Answer the bloody question!" he shouted defensively.

Her expression softened, "Yes. You woke me up from the most twisted dream I've ever had in all of my life."

"What dream?" he hastily questioned.

She wasn't planning on answering, but since he was her best friend, and she wasn't really going to confide in Ginny—her only real girl friend—she decided to mention a few details, "Well, I was in this world where I felt pain, happiness, and love. I stood on water and fell through it, ending up on a hill with a large tree. The island was surrounded by what looked like white sand. The last part of the dream felt so peaceful and unreal." She smiled.

"Good," he said softly.

She bumped his shoulder with hers, "What do you mean by that, Harry?"

He looked into her brown eyes, his uncomfortable countenance lifting into a happy expression. He softly smiled, causing her to do the same, "Absolutely nothing, Hermione."

She didn't believe him, but she let it go, knowing he'd never hide anything terribly important from her, "All right, then."

:::::

:::::

:::::

April 23, 2001

The past few weeks had gone by very oddly. Harry still acted very peculiar around her when they were alone, so it was beginning to bother her curiosity. She sighed. Currently, she was at Hogwarts revisiting her beloved school with the official invitation sent to her by Minerva McGonagall. Not-so-secretly, Professor McGonagall had always been Hermione's favorite teacher while she attended here. She'd already swung by the library to take a glimpse of her adored restricted section, so she sat watching the Gryffindor House Quidditch team practicing. The current captain was Jimmy Peakes, a beater from her sixth year to present. After Harry left before his seventh year, the team strength vanished with him, though the team looked very promising. Finally their team was winning again. Jimmy and Demelza Robins were running the exercises well, Hermione thought.

Demelza, as Hermione recalled, had been the one who burst into tears when Ron suddenly yelled at her, the git. He had a knack for making people cry…

She sighed dejectedly.

She felt a hand on her arm and she stood up, frightened, her wand at the ready. It was just Ron. "You gave me a fright, Ronald," she mumbled while she put away her wand. She sat back down, looking out at the players, "What are you doing here?"

Ron took his place next to her and she noticed that he sat close to her. Her fists tightened some, though he did not seem to notice. "Well, I could have sworn that I got the invite from McGonagall, as well," Ron replied curtly.

Hermione glared towards him, "Don't you think this is a horrid time to be brusque with me?"

Ron's eyes narrowed some, "I just wanted to talk. I haven't seen you around much.."

"So talk, Ronald."

"I just wanted to make you understand that I will always love you," he murmured against the wind that stirred around them.

She leaned against his shoulder, taking in every sense of familiarity. Her heart hurt, but she wasn't ready to move on from him quite yet. Her hand grasped his and she felt like crying, so she did for the first time in a whole month. "Ron, I know that you will. I will always love you in a way, as well. But you have to understand that it was you who forced me to fall out of being in love with you. For the longest time, I have been trying to picture a life without you, and I've finally able to be happy."

"With Harry, no less," Ron pouted.

Hermione pushed herself from him, offended, "I won't let you bad-mouth your own best friend, Ronald."

He stood, and so did she, "So you defend him? What next: kids?"

Hermione slapped him, "I would defend that man with my dying breath, as I would do the same for you, Ronald. The two of you are my world and have been since our first year here at Hogwarts. I would expect you to grow up some. I love Harry. I love you. That's no lie, but a resolute truth. If you have a problem with that, then I do not know what to tell you."

"You talk like I'm still inferior to him!" he shouted. The Quidditch players started to look at them.

"You never were," she whispered. She glanced over at the team who resumed practicing. She dried her face from the lingering tears, looking back to Ron, "I gave you my heart. That is something I never gave Harry."

"No, you gave me half of your heart. I've always known about your insecurities of losing control. I know you were always thinking about the possible heartbreak being with me could have proffered, so you kept your heart at an arm's length with me," Ron told her.

"I have nothing more to say to you." She started to walk away, but Ron caught her arm.

"I have everything to say to you!" Ron said in a hushed frenzy.

She shook her head, turning back around, but jerking away from his hold on her arm, "Then say whatever it is you need to say and let me go back to being friends with you again!"

"Why didn't I have your entire heart?" he pleaded.

Hermione looked him square in the eye and sighed, her eyes closing from her frustration. "You have no idea what it did to me when you began to date Lavender back in the first term of sixth year. You gave me hints of your affections, so I thought you would be with me, but you weren't. I guess I didn't want to relive that feeling, so I kept my feelings and my heart in a box, but that is no excuse for what you let happen between us, Ron."

Ron had nothing more to say. She'd won and they both knew it. Their hearts were on the verge of being broken into a million pieces, and they let the other know that by the way they looked back to one another.

Eventually, they walked back to the school together. The distance between them was appropriate and fit to a friend's relationship. Although they still cared for each other, they had to go backwards and be just friends, or continue to be together and risk hating each other later on. And neither of them wanted a life without the other, even if it meant resorting back to being friends.

Already Hermione felt more relieved and relaxed than she had in about a month. Ron looked defeated, but he was no more slouchy than usual. "Hermione, can I tell you something?" Ron questioned.

She looked up to him as they continued to walk back to the school, "Anything."

Ron smiled, looking down at the ground in front of him. Remembering what the news was, he frowned roughly, "I caught Harry and my sister shagging back at the Burrow. I went there about a week ago, which is when it happened. I was livid and I hit Harry square in his jaw. I was so taken by my rage in the heat of the moment, that I probably ruined our friendship."

Hermione laughed, "You know the two of you are fine, Ron." Then she was silent. Why was everyone beating her nowadays? Sure she and Ron did stuff, but never did they find the opportune time to fully go all of the way with each other. She was such a pathetic girl. Hermione was just about the most sexually curious girl she could think of, and she was now the last one to be shagged, though she just didn't want to be shagged. Many times Ron wanted to, but to her, the first time was something you couldn't ever obtain again, so it was one of Hermione's prized possessions—something sacred to her. She wanted it to be special. She wanted to make love, not just shag. "I'm sure it was their first time, though. Ginny wouldn't compromise herself, no less in school, I hope."

He shook his head, "I talked to the both of them, though they were separated. Ginny said that their first time was back in sixth year, while Harry's first time was with Cho back in the middle of fifth year. He told me himself. Also," he paused, looking towards her sheepishly, "he told me not to tell you, and was pretty adamant about it, so don't go off and advertise that you know that!"

Hermione laughed again, nodding. Inwardly, she was feeling a bunch of weird emotions all bundled together, but that was just because she hated being last at anything, she thought to herself.

"What's worse, I think he severely hurt her emotionally, because the two of them haven't owled each other or even spoken since that day," Ron gossiped.

"Well, everything will work out the way it is supposed to, I guess," she offered, smiling softly. She was glad the two of them were able to return to normal.

"What would I do without you, Hermione?" Ron said sweetly, returning her smile.

She shrugged, "Apparently you'd have no one to gossip to."

That caused the two of them to laugh. They were back to friends. This was nice, they thought.

:::::

:::::

:::::

April 23, 2001 (con't.)

Harry sat in his room, wondering when Hermione would return. His leg was moving at its own rhythm, which strangely made him antsy and nervous. Since that night at the Burrow, Ginny was out of his hair, though it really was neither a bad, nor a good thing. The good part was that Ginny wasn't around to pester him about how to fix their relationship, but the downside was that his source of sexual relief was now mad at him. The only reason why he sought her out that day was because Hermione turned him on. God, how did he become so pathetic.

He honestly did feel terrible about using Ginny the way he was, but it was necessary to keep her around in order to be with Hermione. It was the only thing he'd come up with, and he'd dove too far to back out now, so there weren't any options left. He shoved the book he was attempting to read into his face as he slid to lay flat on his bed. He really was pathetic. He could face so many dangerous obstacles thus far, but was so terrified when it came to Hermione Jean Granger. She'd always been his weakness.

And then there was Ron. His best mate, his pal since the beginning and through it all. Though they were over, Harry knew that Hermione and Ron still cared about each other very deeply. He felt so lost. What if getting Hermione meant that Harry would lose Ron as a friend? So long ago he had been sure that that would be acceptable, but now he truly was lost. It wasn't fair.

Harry needed to speak with Ron man to man about their feelings, as ironic as that was. Perhaps if he laid his feelings on Ron now, and then pursued Hermione later would pose to be a better plan. He did not think so, but anything was worth a shot.

He thought about that night, about their kiss she still didn't hint at knowing. That night would forever be untouchable for the rest of his life. Their first kiss, and she didn't even know about it. What rotten luck he possessed. He wondered if she would ever love him half as much as he loved her.

Then, a sound of a door opening tore him from his thoughts.

She was back! Finally.

______________________________________

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this chapter! It will be edited a bit later on. (I'm writing chapter 12 now! :D)