Fully illustrated! After his name came out of the Goblet of Fire, Harry woke to a disturbing reality. The wizarding world only saw him as an expendable pawn, his carefree attitude towards studying left him struggling to survive, and he had never tru...
What would she have done without Harry Potter in her life?
She didn't want to consider it even for a second.
Did he know how much her life had irrevocably changed that Halloween night? She had come to Hogwarts with so many hopes and dreams and it had almost all gone down the drain in the swirl of depression and helplessness she felt when she realized nothing would ever change for her. And then an eleven year old boy—with little skill and a heart too big for his own good—had barged into the girl's washroom to save a girl he barely knew from a troll.
Harry had proved her wrong. Did he know how much she treasured that moment when they had become friends? How proud she was to stand next to him, through thick and thin?
Silently, she reached out and took his hand in both of hers. Holding on tightly.
People looked at him and saw someone from their stories and legends, the Boy-Who-Lived, or whatever image they wanted to push on him. When she looked at him, she saw a boy struggling under the weight of the expectations and danger that came with his name. She saw a lonely boy who understood what it felt like to be ostracized and was as desperate for a place to belong as she was. Despite the rough hand he had been dealt with in life, she saw that he had a strong will and a compassionate heart.
Throughout the years, she couldn't help but be impressed with his bravery, his loyalty, and his selflessness. Oh, he had plenty of admirable feats: he had faced Voldemort's wraith in first year, battled a basilisk in the second, and dementors in the third. But it was the other moments that had imprinted in Hermione's heart.
The little things.
Harry standing up for Neville and going after the remembrall. Harry visiting her when she was petrified and holding her hand, talking to her in a soft voice. Harry being sneaky and tricking Lucius Malfoy into freeing Dobby, later proudly telling her that he considered the elf a friend. Harry telling her to hold on tightly as they flew on Buckbeak and Hermione forgetting her distaste for flying, overcome with how safe, how carefree she felt in that moment with his arms around her.
Harry caressing her hair and mumbling into her neck, "You're safe. You're safe" after she had been rescued from the lake. Harry in front of the fireplace that day, confronting her faults—that she was often stubborn and self righteous—and admitting his own—that he was reckless and hotheaded, but being adamant that they would find their way together anyway. Always.
He had looked so shocked in first year, when she had told him: "Harry - you're a great wizard, you know."
"I'm not as good as you," he had replied, looking so unsure of himself and Hermione's heart had melted.
"Me! Books! And cleverness! There are more important things — friendship and bravery and—"
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"And love."
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"What was that?" He looked at her curiously.
"I'm lucky to be your friend too, Harry." Hermione smiled. "Don't you ever forget that."
