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To my dear readers: I know it's been more than two years since I began posting this story. Since then, I have graduated from college, been accepted into medical school, and...well, have just generally been pretty busy. But! "Through Our Eyes" is finally FINISHED! I plan to post the rest of the story in a few weeks. Hopefully I will be able to add to my other stories before my medical studies begin, because I know that I won't have much time to write once they do.

Thank you to all of the readers who have left reviews, and thanks to those of you who have even just read this story; it really means a lot and your thoughts will keep me inspired to write! And without further ado - here is the latest installment of "Through Our Eyes".


Hermione Granger


Hermione made her way back to Gryffindor tower, a collection of news clippings in her arms. She had found exactly what she was looking for, and Harry wasn’t going to like what she had to tell him. The thought that Snape was the Half-Blood Prince would probably be something that Harry would find repulsive.

“Hermione!” a voice called behind her. “Wait up!”

She turned to see Ginny Weasley waving at her. “Hello, Ginny! I thought you were studying?”

“Need to go back – I forgot my Potions book.” The younger girl grimaced as she said this. “I’ll be glad when I’m done with that O.W.L.”

When they climbed through the portrait hole, however, they found only Ron sitting at the table where she had left him. “Where’s Harry?” Ginny asked her brother, voicing Hermione’s thought.

“Had a meeting with Dumbledore,” Ron replied, frowning over his Herbology essay. “I’m nearly done, Hermione, d’you think you could look over this quickly?”

Hermoine felt her cheeks warm slightly, but she merely said, “Yes.” Ginny shot a look at Hermione for a second before going up to her room.

Rolling her eyes, Hermione sat down. “Here, let me see,” she said. Ron pushed the essay toward her.

“Wonder what Dumbledore’s going to say to him this time,” Ron said as Hermione scanned the essay. “Peakes came over with a note. Said that Dumbledore wanted to see Harry at once.”

Hermione did not reply immediately, reaching instead for the quill that Ron had left on the table. She was still slightly ruffled that Harry had not been receptive to the idea that Eileen Prince had indeed owned Harry’s copy of Advanced Potion-Making. But she was equally curious about what Dumbledore had to tell Harry. “Well, it has to be something important. The note certainly seemed urgent enough, from what you said.”

“Maybe he’s found a –”

Shh!” Hermione said, waving the quill in the direction of some first-years seated nearby. “Yes, maybe that’s true. But really – do you honestly think Dumbledore would take Harry along?”

“You’re asking me this?”

“I was only saying – ”

“Oh, come on, Hermione. Remember first year? The Cloak? And the thing with Sirius in third year…”

“But none of them were nearly as dangerous as this might be!” Hermione fretted.

Ron cocked an eyebrow. “You seem awfully worried.”

“Don’t be silly, Ron,” she scoffed. Why did he always accuse her of being attracted to others? “He’s my friend as well as yours, of course I’m worried! The problem is that he doesn’t see sense sometimes!”

“He seems to do well enough,” Ron replied. “You’re still annoyed that he didn’t listen to you earlier. And he does have a point – the writing looks more like a bloke’s. It’s bad – like mine is, actually,” he added, looking at the essay she was correcting.

Hermione couldn’t help but smile in amusement, but she concealed her expression by shifting her hair in front of her face. “Not all girls have good handwriting,” she countered, unwilling to give ground. “You can’t use me and your sister as your basis for making that sort of judgment.”

“What about his sister?” came Ginny’s voice from the girls’ staircase.

“Hermione thinks that not all girls have good handwriting,” Ron said.

The younger girl looked at Ron with a raised eyebrow, then glanced at Hermione. “Of all the things you two could argue over, you had to choose something that daft? Honestly, you two bicker like an old married couple.”

Something inside of Hermione squirmed at Ginny’s statement, but she ignored it and focused on Ron’s essay, pretending to have difficulty deciphering his scrawl – which, of course, she could read easily enough. Six years of experience had given her the ability to read Ron’s handwriting as fluently as though it were her own neat cursive.

“What are you doing now, anyway?” Ron asked.

Ginny shifted her bag on her shoulder and made a face. “O.W.L.s studying,” she said grimly. “Potions and Transfiguration. I meant to do it earlier today, but I decided to spend a bit of time with Harry down by the lake. It’s such a nice day out, too, but no, of course I have to spend the rest of it in the library.”

“Maybe if you hadn’t gone – ” Hermione began, but Ginny shook her head, grinning.

“Thanks, Mum, but I know. I’ll study hard, I promise. Let Harry know where I am if he asks, all right?”

“Maybe I won’t let him know,” Ron said, smirking. “You spend quite enough time together, and you need to study.”

“This coming from you?” she asked in disbelief. “Tell him, Ron. I’ll know if you don’t, and anyway…let’s just say that I’ve been modifying my Bat-Bogey Hex.” Grinning cheekily, Ginny waved and slipped out into the corridor.

Harry returned ten minutes later, dashing madly through the portrait hole. Hermione began to question him but he merely mumbled something and continued to run up the stairs to his dormitory. She and Ron exchanged quizzical looks.

Less than a minute later, Harry sprinted back down the stairs to the common room, skidding to a halt in front of the pair of them. Hermione only half listened as he explained the situation.

“Dumbledore’s taking me to find a – well, you know.” Hermione gasped when she heard this, but Harry ignored her. “I ran into Trelawney outside the Room of Requirement on the way to his office and I’m sure she heard Malfoy cheering. Which means that he’s finished whatever it is that he’s been working on – ”

“Harry, where – ” Ron began, but Harry continued to talk over him.

“The school’s in danger!” he said hotly. Ron and Hermione tried to get another word in edgewise – to find out where he was going, to find out what the danger entailed. But he kept shaking his head and speaking rapidly. Finally he slowed down and gave an old piece of parchment to Hermione, who immediately recognized it as the Marauder’s Map. To Ron he gave a pair of balled-up socks containing, he explained, his Felix Felicis.

Seconds later he was gone, hurtling back through the portrait hole. Ron and Hermione stood in silence for a few moments before speaking.

“D’you reckon it’s true?” Ron asked. “About Malfoy?”

“I think it is ridiculous, I’ve been telling him for months!” Hermione replied, shaking her head. “All the same, it can’t hurt to keep an eye on the Map. Here, you’ve got Hardwick’s method for bobbleflower cultivation correct, but you need to add the plant’s uses to your conclusion. It’s part of the requirements, remember?” She slid the essay back across the table to Ron, who grinned in thanks.

“You’re the only one who can edit essays like this, Hermione, thanks a lot.”

She felt a fluttering sensation in her chest. “Er, well…Thanks.” Quickly, she looked about to find the Marauder’s Map in order to keep herself busy.

Tapping her wand gently to the parchment, she whispered, “I solemnly swear I am up to no good.” It made her feel odd every time she said that to use the Map – but then again, ever since she had met Harry and Ron, she had become one of the most determined rule-breakers in her class. Her nearly spotless record was greatly at odds with the various bits of mischief she had gotten into throughout her years at Hogwarts. Harry’s stubbornness and Ron’s grin were always enough to convince her to not report their doings to any professor – she supposed they were bad influences, but she did not regret meeting either one. Especially Ron.

Heat rose in her cheeks at this thought, and she cast her gaze to the moving figures on the Map. She scanned the Slytherin common room, the classrooms and offices of Malfoy’s teachers, and then quickly glanced along all the hallways. But Malfoy’s dot was nowhere to be seen.

“Ron?”

“Yeah?”

She turned the parchment so that he could read it properly. “Malfoy’s not in here anywhere, not even on the grounds.”

Ron looked up from his essay and set his quill down before coming to stand beside her chair. He leaned in close to study the Map just as carefully.

“Could he have gone to Hogsmeade?” he asked.

“Perhaps, but what on earth would he be doing there? And how could he possibly get there at this hour? He can’t get through the main gates.”

“The passage behind the one-eyed witch?” Ron suggested.

“Not likely,” she replied. “Not unless he somehow found out the password.”

Hermione raised her eyes to meet Ron’s, and an unspoken agreement passed between them. Silently they both acknowledged that Harry could be right, as much as neither of them wanted to admit it.

“He’s up to something,” Ron said, blue eyes turning to the area on the Map where the Room of Requirement lay hidden, unmarked, perhaps Unplottable. “Reckon we should rally our troops and keep watch? Oh, but you’re ahead of me on that, as usual.”

Hermione had already withdrawn the fake Galleon from her pocket. She and Ron looked at it as it lay in her palm.

“Do you think anyone still carries them?” she asked.

In response, Ron dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out his own fake piece of gold. “I’m sure that Ginny, Luna, and Neville still have them, if no one else does. Don’t worry.”

Reassured by the confidence in his voice, Hermione touched the coin with her wand.

* * *


“What are we looking for, exactly?” Ginny asked in a low voice as they all met just outside the Room of Requirement.

“Malfoy,” her older brother replied tersely, his eyes fixed on the blank stretch of wall where the entrance lay hidden. “But we’re not sure what else. Here, take this.” He held out the balled-up socks Harry had given him earlier.

Ginny wrinkled her nose. “Honestly, Ron, I know Harry’s my boyfriend, but why would I want a pair of his socks? Is that supposed to be a good luck charm of some sort?”

“Actually,” Ron smiled, “it is. Open it up.”

His sister carefully undid the socks and revealed the tiny bottle of Felix Felicis.

“We need to divide this up among all of us,” Hermione said. “Harry wanted us to have it, because he thinks we’ll need it.”

“Where is Harry?” Ginny asked.

Hermione and Ron exchanged a look. “We don’t know,” Hermione finally sighed.

“You know something! I know that look you two share, when you’re keeping something quiet!” Ginny whispered fiercely. “Just tell me where he is!”

“Ginny, we don’t know!” Ron hissed back. “And even if we did, we promised him that we wouldn’t say anything! Just take your share of potion, please.”

She glared back at him mutinously, but raised the bottle to her mouth and tipped it back for a small mouthful.

“Don’t worry, Ginny, Harry’s probably just off looking for Wobbling Quiblies,” Luna said serenely.

Everyone stared at her as she continued, “Their feathers supposed to be really effective against Dark magic. Daddy says we’ll look for some this summer so we can ward off Dark wizards.” Luna accepted the tiny bottle and took a sip before passing it to Neville.

As soon as Ron drained the last few drops (he had insisted that Hermione take a second tiny sip as she passed the bottle to him), he rubbed his hands together and began to think. Hermione was strongly reminded of the times she had played chess against him.

“We need a battle plan,” he said. “Malfoy may or may not be in the Room of Requirement, and we don’t know what to expect. But we should also keep a watch on Snape’s office. So…” he trailed off, looking at the others. “Hermione, Luna, you watch Snape’s office. More of us are needed here, but it’s better if at least two of you go. The rest of us – me, Ginny, Neville – we stay here.”

They all nodded their assent, and Hermione and Luna began the descent downstairs in silence. Free from the typical hubbub of Potions classes, the dungeons were eerily silent. The only sounds were the guttering torches and the breathing of the two girls. They passed several minutes without exchanging a word.

“He fancies you, you know,” Luna whispered suddenly into the stillness.

Hermione stifled a startled yelp and felt her cheeks turn red. “Who ever are you talking about?” she asked, keeping her voice steady.

“Why, Ron, of course!” Luna replied, her large eyes staring widely at Hermione. “Just like Ginny and Harry. The whole school knows you and Ron fancy each other, except maybe you two. Though I suppose now you know – so only Ron doesn’t, I suppose.”

She was not often at the receiving end of Luna’s uncomfortably honest words, but Hermione now felt the unintended sting that came with them. And how exactly could she reply? She had known, perhaps since their fourth year, that she felt – well, she could not put it into words how she felt about Ron. She did know that his antics with Lavender had driven her mad. In some inexplicable way, she felt that Ron was hers.

Her rational half knew that this was absurd; she and Ron had been friends for years, and even with the – whatever it was – between them, they had never been anything more. As she had told Harry months before, Ron was a perfect liberty to date whomever he pleased. But she had lied in the second part of her statement, where she had nonchalantly stated that she didn’t care. She did care, far more than she wished to admit to herself. She glanced back at Luna, but the other girl was humming softly to herself. As a precaution, Hermione wordlessly cast the Muffliato spell to ensure that they would not be heard.

The whole school knows you fancy each other, except maybe you two. Perhaps Luna was right. I fancy Ron. As Hermione thought this, her heart fluttered in a manner akin to the way it felt whenever he touched her hand. Why had it taken her so long to admit this to herself? Why had she needed to hear Luna state the words so baldly to even consider this possibility? Moreover, why had she refused to see it when Lavender made her jealous?

Perhaps she had been scared to take their friendship any further. Twice in their friendship they had stopped talking altogether – first in their third year, then this past year. Those disagreements were petty in the grand scheme of things, and Hermione could not imagine what it would be like if she and Ron entered a relationship then split up. The two of them were fantastically stubborn, and she knew just how difficult it would be for Harry if she and Ron never talked again. Perhaps she had subconsciously been trying to protect her friendship with both Ron and Harry and had suppressed her feelings for Ron as a result.

And was Luna right? You fancy each other. Some sort of tension had been simmering between them ever since Viktor Krum took her to the Yule Ball; that much was clear. At the time she had put it off as Ron’s protectiveness, born from his elder-brother instincts. But now, in this new light…

Perhaps Luna’s observation was correct. Ron’s feelings were there in the way he complimented Hermione whenever she corrected his work. They were there when he made her laugh, his blue eyes merry with shared amusement. And they were there – why, they were there in his surliness upon hearing that she and Viktor were still in contact!

Her head was reeling with sudden realization – or was it the fact that she had so abruptly admitted the truth to herself? She quickly put her hand to the cold stone wall to steady herself.

“Are you all right?” Luna asked.

“Never better,” Hermione replied, smiling to herself. “And now we wait.”

* * *


The sun was high and bright, the weather fair. It should have been a day of celebration; the school term was over, and the Hogwarts Express was leaving in a few short hours. Instead the mood was solemn, the air thick with grief for Dumbledore. Hermione had instinctively turned to Ron for comfort, crying into the shoulder of his robe. Without looking she knew that tears were falling from his face as well even though he tried to hide it. Every minute or so his hand stopped stroking her hair and reached up to dash the wetness from his eyes. Despite the sadness of the moment, Hermione could not help but think how right it felt to be in Ron’s embrace, holding each other for comfort.

They held each other through the end of the funeral, when others had gotten up to leave. Wordlessly Hermione pulled back, wiping the last few tears away. Harry had left to wander along the lake. Ginny, too, had left her place next to Hermione and was standing stone-faced fifteen feet away, staring at Harry. It did not take Hermione long to guess what had just transpired. Harry, foolishly playing the hero! She had seen the two of them together and knew that they were meant to be. Long ago she had scoffed at the romantic idea of soul mates, but Harry and Ginny had begun to dispel that notion.

And she was fairly sure she had found a soul mate of her own. It had just taken her six years to realize it.

“Hermione.”

She turned her red-rimmed eyes to meet Ron’s.

“I know what you’re thinking…”

She could hardly believe her ears. Was he actually going to tell her…?

“You think that Harry’s going to try and give us the slip this summer, aren’t you?”

Hermione was torn between laughing and weeping some more. It wasn’t what she was thinking at all, but the way Ron has sounded so sure amused her. She wanted nothing more than to throw her arms around his neck and hold him tightly. The world had changed so much in the past few days, and even Hogwarts no longer felt like the safe haven it had been. Though she knew it was foolish, Hermione felt that merely holding Ron would help the world seem right again.

But she couldn’t let her feelings get the better of her. Now wasn’t the time; she and Ron would have to ignore any feelings they had for each other for another long while. The world would need to settle before they could move forward. Hermione glanced at Ginny, who was wearing a masklike expression, her face turned away from Harry. She was not crying – Ginny was not easily moved to tears – but Hermione knew her friend. She knew just how deeply Ginny had cared for Harry.

Maybe Harry was right to break it off with Ginny. Now was not the time for relationships. Now was the time to put head in front of heart, to let reason and not love guide the way. Dumbledore was right; love was a great strength, but Hermione knew that it could be distracting. She thought back to the way her grades had suffered when Ron had begun dating Lavender – a week of only “Acceptable” grades. Acceptable wasn’t going to be good enough in the fight against Voldemort. They needed to be outstanding. These words would be no comfort to Ginny, but perhaps Harry had thought much the same thing.

“Hermione? You there?”

She sighed. “Yes. I agree. That can’t happen. And as much as I hate to say it…” She trailed off, glancing at the castle, home of so many memories. “I’m not coming back.”

“Neither am I.”

It was so easy to fall back into their easy banter. Hermione smiled and said, “Avoiding schoolwork now?”

“That’s not it at all, and you know it!”

“I know, I know,” she said, lapsing back into seriousness.

“We’ll be there for him. We made our choice, we’re with him all the way,” Ron said.

We. A simple two-letter word. It was what allowed Hermione to push those romantic thoughts and agree. “Let’s talk to him.”

As they set out together, near enough to touch but not quite, Hermione looked once more for Ginny. The younger girl had disappeared into the crowd. It hadn’t been the time for her and Harry, no matter how deep their feelings. Similarly, it wasn’t yet time for Hermione to be with Ron – officially, at least. Little could be done to dispel the obvious tension between them so long as they kept dancing around their feelings, but they would do it for Harry. And one day, maybe when the world was right again, they would truly become a “we”.

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