Homecoming, there wasn't any other description to use, if the train ride had felt nostalgic, bittersweet even then the first steps on Hogwarts grounds downright heart-wrenching. That Harry had Ron and Hermione with him when the impressive Castle slowly appeared in front of them had been an enormous relief to Harry. If it hadn't been for the unusual sensation of holding hands with Hermione throughout the ordeal from entering the carriage and driving up to the entrance hall, he'd regretted their agreement.

The welcome feast went by in a blur. Harry didn't pay at all attention to the sorting neither to the speech of the new Headmistress. Everything washed over him, and he let it happen. Perhaps it was easier for him to pull through the first suffocating moments being back at Hogwarts. Ginny didn't look at them, avoided them like the plague, only at times Harry caught a glimpse of fiery red mane.

The wounds on the walls had been restored, but not on everyone's soul. The stoicism stopped right at the second when Harry realised that Hogwarts obviously recognised that he was married to Hermione.

"This is the Headquarter." Professor McGonagall, who had escorted them, told them.

She hesitated before she turned to them. Hermione and Harry had an astonished look on their face, as soon as they saw how the staircase stopped in front of a single door.

"Without a doubt, you may have noticed the Headquarter is quite different in equipment than usually." The Headmistress seemed to guess the problem.

"It is designed for a married couple." Hermione guessed quietly; she probably had read it in 'Hogwarts, a history' already.

"Indeed, Miss Granger. Hogwarts magic recognised the bound between the Headgirl and Headboy this year and rearranged the quarter accordingly." Professor McGonagall agreed smugly.

"I'll leave you at it so that you may get accustomed to the private quarters." She added hastily as Harry and Hermione shared a look, and proceeded in leaving them alone.

"Well, it looks like we'll keep our sleeping arrangement after all." Harry broke the silence at last.

Hermione peered at him before she composed herself.

"I'm not at all a good company. My study schedule is rather demanding, and I'd hate to keep you awake." She said earnestly.

"You mean to tell me that Hermione Granger can't be stopped from her academic success by something like sleep?" He smiled, fondly at her.

"Well, yes, I do tend to exaggerate a bit." Hermione conceded reluctantly.

"A bit? Honestly, I might be able to keep you sane in a N.E.W.T. year." Bashfully she held her head down as he continued. "I'd be glad if I manage that, though."

Soon, they got used to sharing the apartment. Harry quickly found out that Headboy duties added to Quidditch practise in a N.E.W.T. year was just crazy. Next, he understood that the time spending with Hermione alone was limited to the Headquarters. Usually, they did their rounds separately to allow each of them more time for assignments or training.

But to his surprise, it turned out it wasn't at all something negative. Contrary Harry began to look forward to this few hours of the day. A few weeks into their seventh year, Hermione decided to tutor students, who struggled in this term due to their experiences while at war against Voldemort. As much as Harry admired her determination to assure that everyone would be able to get their N.E.W.T.s, it began to push her to the limit too.

It was already long past curfew on this Thursday. The Marauders Map laid open on the little table surrounded by a stake of books, an eagle feather and a roll of parchment. His Essay for Transfiguration Harry had finished an hour ago, and he had just revised curses and hexes for DADA. For a brief second, he considered whether he should take a look at Charms or not. From the corner of his eyes, he saw how finally the dot on the map with the name Hermione Potter slowly moved from the Libary towards the Headquarters. A relieved sigh escaped his lips before he tiredly rubbed the bridge of his nose and took off his glasses.

"It's about time." Harry muttered as soon as he heard the revealing grind of the statue in front of the entrance to the Headquarters.

Mere seconds later, he heard approaching footsteps.

"Seriously, Harry?" Hermione huffed.

"A good evening to you too, Hermione." He quickly replied while he put his glasses back on.

There she was standing and looked exhausted as hell, yet Harry was glad to see her.

"Why are you still up?" She gently chided. "I told you already last time that you don't have to wait for me."

"But I want to." He retorted.

Defeated, she sat down on the couch, right next to him.

"Come on, lean back and relax for a moment." Hermione followed his suggestion reluctantly while he reached for her limbs to get them on his lap.

"What are you doing?" She inquired but didn't fight him.

It was a vast difference to their routine. Usually, very late in the evening, Harry would be comfortable laying down on the couch with his head on Hermione's lap. She would play absent-mindedly with his hair while reading or reminiscing the day with him. Now, though, their roles were reversed, and Hermione was utterly knackered.

"You won't mind a massage, do you?" He asked but took already one shoe after another off.

"Harry, you don't have to - oww." She didn't get far with her protest because he started carefully kneading her tense right foot.

Hermione leaned back when Harry pushed one thumb against her ball of the foot.

"Don't you think helping all these students alone is too much? The day only got twenty-four hours, and you need at least eight hours of sleep." He advised with a worried undertone.

"Five."

"What?"

"Sometimes, four hours will do too." She lazily argued.

Her eyes were closed by now, and her breathing slow.

"How long, though?" At this point, he put her foot on his thigh and proceeded to massage her calf.

"Merlin, where did you learn this?" She bit her lips to prevent her from moaning.

"As long as necessary." She retorted, at last, stubbornly.

Harry only nodded to this. Instead, he was marvelling the soft texture of her skin. The massage had been intended as benefit solely for her to relax after a rather stressful day, yet slowly it turned into something intimate. Despite the proximity and his inner turmoil, Harry continued his ministration.

"Let's go to bed, Hermione." He had finished the massage by now. However, he couldn't stop stroking her legs.

It was such a comfortable situation, sitting here and end a trying day. Minutes later they were laying in their king-sized four-poster bed while Hermione found quickly to sleep, Harry was overthinking everything.

Something was shifting between them; he just couldn't put his finger on it. Over the past weeks, Harry and Hermione had slowly gravitated closer than before to each other. Perhaps, living together like a married couple without her parents lurking around the corner would do that to any relationship, Harry mused in the morning while standing under the shower. After all, it had been his goal to show Hermione that they'll be fine, yet there was this nagging sensation in the back of his mind.

Harry turned off the water and took a large towel to rub himself dry. Only in his boxers dressed, he returned to the bedroom where Hermione was still in deep slumber. Inwardly, he was genuinely amused. Yesterday, she had been so sure that a few hours of sleep would do yet here she was merely a night later still deep in dreamland. As much as he would love to let her sleep, she would hate to miss a lesson.

At first, Harry tried to pull at the blanket, but Hermione had managed to have such a good grip on it, it was no use. Then he proceeded to her side of the bed. After several weeks, he thought he should by now got used to seeing his best friend sleep peacefully, yet each time he was fascinated anew. It was like looking at a young woman who never had to fight in a war, never had to go through all the miserable situation with and because of him.

Harry sat down at her side of the bed. Even though the mattress dipped down, it didn't disturb her slumber at all either.

"Hermione, time to wake up!" Harry tried while lightly touching her arm.

Slightly, she stirred but didn't bother to hurry. Harry purses his lips. Obviously, a different tactic was in order, or they would miss breakfast entirely. Slowly, he leaned forward until his lips were right next to her ear.

"Quick, the library is on fire!" He whispered.

The reaction was far more intense than he had anticipated. Hermione shot straight, wide awake, up in a sitting position on the bed. Without his fast reflexes, she'd have knocked him down. Instead, he was laughing while sitting up again.

"I can't believe that worked." Harry snickered in amazement.

"Never." Hermione heavily exhaled and looked at him with round eyes. "I implore you, never do that again."

His response was to burst into another fit of loud laughter.

"Will you stop it!" Hermione demanded but couldn't hide her amusement over the situation in her voice.

Repeatedly she easily slapped his shoulder.

"Oww, that hurts!" He complained and got hold of her right hand.

It was precisely this movement that made both stops in their tracks. Only isolated chuckles escaped them while they kept staring at each other. Harry's eyes drank the sight of Hermione in, how carefree and beautiful she was. Softly, Hermione touched his cheek with her free hand. It just added to the enchantment which had caught them completely. In a lovingly yet at the same time hypnotic way, she caressed his skin while her face moved closer to his. Before he knew it, she had closed the gap between their lips and was kissing him.

It had been such a turn of event that Harry didn't react directly when he, at last, began to return her affection; it was over again. Hermione had torn off her lips from him, and while Harry looked quite offended by the end of their kiss, she wore an entirely shocking expression on her face. In a matter of seconds, she scampered out of bed.

"Hermione!" Harry called when she was already at the door to the bathroom.

"I'm sorry, Harry" She sighed. "I can't do this right now."

All the calmness was gone from her complexion and replaced by an all too well-known expression of worry. For a brief moment, they kept looking at each other, communicating with their eyes what couldn't be said with mere words. In defiance, Hermione shook her head before she left him.

Harry groaned in frustration and let himself fall back on to the bed, buried his face in his hands.