widened as he drew back, trying to withdraw his hand.
But Hermione hung on tightly. 'Please,' she said. 'Or I'll do it myself.'
He raised his eyes until they met hers, and she saw something crumble away behind his eyes, temporary resolve giving way to curiosity and the need to know the truth.
'Veritas,' he said.
She felt a soft implosion inside her chest, and sucked in her breath.
It hurt, but not as badly as she had thought it would, remembering the agony in Draco's eyes when she had put the spell on him. But then, he had fought it, and she wasn't fighting it. She shut her eyes, pressing herself back against the desk, letting the pain run through her like silver wires.
'Ask me, Harry,' she said.
She heard the hesitation in his voice. 'Do you love me?'
She opened her eyes. 'Yes.'
She saw a little of the tension leave his shoulders, although the questions didn't leave his eyes.
'Ask me if I'm in love with you,' she said.
'Are you in love with me?'
'Yes. Completely.'
Harry glanced down quickly, hiding his expression. 'Okay, then,' he said, in a slightly constricted voice, and cleared his throat. 'Are you in love with Malfoy?'
Hermione gripped the edge of the desk with her hands. 'Yes.'
He didn't wince or change expression, but then it wasn't anything he hadn't already known. 'But it isn't the same?'
'No. It's different. It's not real. I can tell. It doesn't mean I don't feel it.'
'Do you really think there's a counterspell?'
'Yes,' she said, hearing her own voice with some astonishment. 'Yes, I really do.'
Harry moved a step closer to her, not taking his hand away from its resting place above her heart. She could herself reflected in the pupils of his eyes, saw the lingering shadows there. 'Ask me something else,' she said, desperate to find whatever it was that would reassure him completely. 'Ask me whatever, I don't care.'
Harry ducked his head. She could almost have sworn she saw him smile, briefly-
'Anything?' he asked.
She nodded.
'Do those new dress robes that Sirius got me make me look like a girl?'
'What?' This was the last question Hermione had expected him to ask, but then the spell didn't discriminate between significant and insignificant truths. 'No. You look really cute in them,' she said, and nearly smiled to hear the words coming out of her mouth. 'See! I told you so.'
'All right, then. Did you really like that present I got you for Christmas last?'
'No,' said Hermione, and turned bright red. 'I mean to say — ' But it was useless. 'You got me socks, Harry. Girls don't want socks! House-elves want socks! I know we weren't going out then, but really.'
Harry made a muffled sort of noise. 'I'll keep that in mind,' he said.
'Now. Do you really find watching me play Quidditch interesting or do you only come to the games to make sure I don't get killed?'
'I only come to the games to make sure you don't get killed,' said Hermione, and groaned. 'I think Quidditch is the most boring thing in the entire world, worse than watching paint dry. Harry, stop.'
'You said I could ask you anything. So, are you in love with Ron?'
Hermione stared. 'Harry! What? No!'
'Are you in love with Viktor Krum?'
'Not remotely. Where are you going with this?'
'Professor Snape?'
'Oh, this is getting disgusting. No.'
'Professor Lupin?'
'You're deranged. No!'
'Sirius?'
Hermione looked solemn. 'Well, he is awfully sexy.'
Harry looked horrified. 'Hermione!'
She suddenly giggled, unable to help it. 'Don't ask if you don't want to know the answer!'
Harry grinned. A real grin, the like of which she hadn't seen on his face in she didn't know how long. At that moment, she would have told him anything, even if she hadn't been under the Veritas curse.
'So,' he said. 'Since we're on the topic of romance, I think you should tell me exactly why you find me so devastatingly attractive.
Take as long as you like and feel free to use big words.'
