Night Changes

He woke to the sound of screams- awful, awful, blood-curdling screams.

Sheets were hastily thrown as Armin bolted from his bed, uncaring of the state of his attire and wholly consumed by fear.

Nightshirt and pants in disarray, he ran barefoot out of his shared room, door wide open and bunk mates left awoken in confusion.

The slapping of feet echoed down the cold, stone floors of the hallways and he panted more so out of adrenaline than physical inadequacy.

His heart suddenly dropped in his chest as the screams increased in volume. A million thoughts ran through his head.

What if she's dying? What if she's in pain?! What if she'll be gone by the time I'm there? What if I never see her again?!

Then again… what if it isn't her…

I'd still care, of course, but…

This was different.

In his gut, he knew it was. He feared it but he knew it was her.

Hermione.

He didn't know how he knew, considering he'd never heard her scream, but it could be no one else's- no other scout. No- it had to be her's.

He picked up his pace at the thought, as impossible as it seemed. But it felt like her room was miles away. Like time had slowed and a five-minute walk had become hours.

Finally, he skid to a stop in front of her open door, no guard in sight.

No no no no no no no-

He bolted inside and threw open her tent flap. The scream's volume increased in the direction of her room.

Hermione.

In his continued panic, Armin sped into the bedroom to find Klaus Müller, Hermione's assigned guard for the week, meters away from her bed, petrified.

Armin felt ill.

Hemione's sickly form was thrashing, tangled in bloody sheets. Her hair was in disarray as her bonnet lay on the floor; her face was stuck in various grimaces of pain as she screamed.

Hermione.

He rushed to her side, hands clutching the sheets, afraid to worsen her condition any further. The fear then rushed from his mind as he remembered that open wounds needed pressure to help them close.

"Klaus," he addressed, ripping her sheets to form a makeshift bandage. He shook as he wrapped the bandages around her arm, shook as he applied pressure to her arm, he shook as she began to wail. Yet he heard nothing from Klaus.

"Klaus!" He growled.

That seemed to catch his attention.

"Y- yes?"

He cursed. The blood had easily seeped through the bandages, soaking it crimson. And he could hear the distant sound of hushed whispers and shoes clicking against cold, stone floors.

"What happened?"

His voice held an edge. He'd asked a question but he recognized that it was also a threat. A threat with a hint of fear.

"I- I was in my own head when she started screaming- daydreaming, you know? I was so confused at first. Why was she screaming in the dead of night?" He asked himself rhetorically.

Armin grabbed at more fabric to apply over the soaked bandages.

"And I didn't really know what to do so I just opened the door to investigate. I was, um, hesitant to enter her tent but it was an emergency so I went in and I followed the screaming to what I assumed was her bedroom."

Armin urgently motioned for him to continue, applying more bandages while assessing Hermione's body for further injury.

"She was still in bed but she didn't look right- I- I mean, she didn't look healthy. And then she moved and I started seeing blood on her sheets… and then she screamed again and... She- she didn't look as… "bad" as she does now but-," he said, his useless words barely heard over Hermione's screams, "and it only started a few moments before you got here, Armin, I swear."

Okay, that's a start.

"Were the-"

"Oi! What's with all the noise?"

He saw Captain Levi at the tent's bedroom door, their friends around him, and faintly he could hear a crowd forming around the tent's entrance behind them.

"It's Hermione, Sir, she's still asleep but she's been screaming- and bleeding. I only just got here and I'm not sure how to proceed."

He looked Armin dead in the eyes. "I know how to proceed. Wake her up."

"Captain-" Jean started, but Armin beat him to it.

"But sir, we don't know what that'll do! What if it worsens her condition?!"

"Well we won't know if we don't try-"

"-what if I don't want you to try!" He almost growled.

As the Captain's eyes widened by just a fraction Armin relented by an inch. "Sir," he added.

The captain sighed, massaging the bridge of his nose, "Armin. I understand that you care for her, but your caring is only getting in everybody's way. It might even be getting in her way. So just suck it up and wake her up."

"I-"

"-go on," Captain Levi said, arms crossed, pointing his chin in Hermione's tortured form.

He heard Mikasa make a grunt of disapproval, obviously not happy with the Captain's decision but unable to defy her superior without consequence.

Or without blowing this possibly "harmless" situation out of proportion.

He sighed and Armin's hand inched down to shake her shoulder. Gentle but firm was his grip as he rocked her back and forth. But she only groaned in response. Seconds later and it seemed Armin's tender approach took a bit too long for the Captain's liking.

For it wasn't Armin's gentle hand on Hermione's shoulder that stopped the screams but Captain Levi's forceful yet steady grip on her upper arms.

"Oi, wake u-"

With a gasp, Hermione woke. Wide, frightful eyes, and all.

Chest heaving as if she could no longer breathe, she bat away the Captain's arms and scrambled to find her wand.

Ever the initiator, Armin quickly scanned her bed and grabbed at the sliver of wood seen under the covers.

He grabbed her hand and placed the wand in her palm before curling her fingers around its handle. Holding it in place, he looked her in the eyes before reassuring her with the tightening of his hands around hers. "It's here, right here. We're here-"

I'm here.

"And it's going to be okay," he spoke in her native tongue hoping it would comfort her.

With her free hand, she grasped Armin's as she began to regain an awareness of her surroundings.

He spotted Klaus from his peripheral vision and instantly eyed him to leave. Once gone he continued his soothing coos.

"It's alright, Hermione," he sat at the edge of her bed, bloody hands still connected as he allowed her to rest her body weight against him. "Hermione."

"It's going to be alright."

He could feel her body slowly relax against him.

Hermione suddenly tensed against him, and he could feel the weight of her head lift off his side.

He followed her line of sight as she relaxed once again, likely from recognizing it was only their friends in her bedroom and no one else.

Almost defeated, she slumped up against him once more and let out a groan of frustration.

"'I always speak out of the tent so why would I bother,' I thought- 'silencing my bedroom every night is enough,' I thought," she muttered darkly.

Did he hear her correctly?

Silencing her room every night?!

This has been happening every damn night?!

"Ugh," she released one of her hands from their hold to rub her face in self-loathing. Blood smeared her cheek and her damp curls limply framed her face.

Finding her able to talk, he tried for a question. "Are you… alright?"

Of course she isn't, you idiot, who would?

She nodded softly, "I'm fine, I'm fine. This is fine," she said gravelly, then made an attempt to clear her throat. "This is a fairly… regular occurrence that I've since grown used to…" she ended softly, staring at the blood on her sheets eyes, passing by the heavy redness on her arm. "It's fine."

Armin was mortified.

No, it was definitely not fine.

"This happens often…?"

"… Often enough," she answered bitterly.

"Oh," he glumly realized, as he had heard her right. "You've been using magic to hide it."

"Yes," she nodded. "Most nights, yes. But apparently not this one," her eyelids were shut tight, and with a wave of her wand vanished the blood from their sight.

But she could never vanish the sight of it from his mind.

Even if there was a spell for such a thing… he shuddered to think such a thing existed.

"It doesn't happen every night but the possibility was large enough that I felt the need to use my magic to hide it."

"So… but… what exactly was it that was happening?" Connie asked. And Hermione hummed in a non-response before opening her eyes.

But Armin found himself searching for her eyes and silently asking if she were okay to answer.

She nodded and Armin then helped her to sit up without using his body as a crutch. But he still sat next to her for support.

She thanked him wearily.

His heart began to palpitate. It seemed she was ready to tell them. He knew she, at times, felt guilt for omitting so much of her past, but it was understandable to Armin. It was traumatic and painful, and he felt honored with all the new bits of information he'd been receiving over the past month. Honored that she felt secure enough to entrust him with her history- her heart. And he was happy to see she was finally entrusting them too.

She eyed them with uncertainty. An uncertainty he was sure came more from her fear of judgment than her lack of trust. She looked away, "That," she summoned a glass of water that she then took a sip from, "is what you call a cursed nightmare."

After various chimes of confusion, a voice shushed them all for her to continue.

"As in literally? Someone cursed your dreams?" Hange asked sadly.

Connie seemed anguished, "Why?"

Fidgeting uncomfortably at the question, the telltale signs of defeat still marred her face. Despite it all, she found the courage to answer.

"No. No one's cursed my dreams- not directly at least..." she started softly.

"You all know about my arm," she frowned.

Yes, how could I- we ever forget?

She tucked her left arm closer to her belly, "and my neck," her hand raised to reach for the leaking wound before suddenly dropping.

She shook her head as if to shake herself of bad thoughts.

Armin, himself, wanted to reach for the wound. And for the wound on her arm that was probably bleeding just the same.

He wanted to stop the leak, to stop the bleeding- to heal the pain, but he didn't possess the type of powers to do so.

And even though Hermione did, she didn't make a move to stop the bleeding either.

"The reason why they look so fresh is because…" she let out a shaky breath, "they're cursed."

"Oh," Mikasa replied softly.

"And with that comes the nightmares and when I'm awake it's the voices. Though- only when my body fails me," she added sheepishly.

Did she hear the voices when she was sick? Is that why she became so manic? By the look on her face, he'd guess so.

"Voices? As in…" Sasha inquired.

She chuckled morosely, "Not multiple- no. Just one, just the one," she ended bitterly.

Oh.

"The one that did this to you?" Armin asked knowingly, kindly.

She nodded, "Mm, yes."

"She's dead now, so it's alright... I just- I just wish she could die in more ways than one..."

For Hermione's sake, Armin wished so too. Wished he could do more about it. Wished he could understand the complexities of magic. Wished he was more fluent in English to fully grasp the nuance of her books so he could research.

Armin wanted to do something for her- anything. And in that moment he felt just as useless and just as pathetic as his 15-year-old self that all he could offer was words and comfort and not a solution.

Which I am usually good at, he grumbled internally.

"But why would anyone do that to another human being? That's- it's vile," he looked up from the bed to find Eren's face displaying equal parts fury and confusion.

"You didn't- do something to them, did you?" He added darkly.

"Eren," Armin challenged coolly.

Hermione waved her hand in dismissal, putting a swift end to the disagreement.

"No. Nothing but exist," she whispered darkly in return, glaring at the shadows in the corner of her room.

He watched as Eren's eyes widened in a sort of revelation. As if he was seeing her in a new respect- as if he'd just discovered what identified her as one of their own.

It was most likely that he'd just discovered a personal connection between them. He'd been trying to befriend her… for his and Mikasa's sake- to connect with her the way they had. But It was a connection he'd said he just couldn't see, couldn't feel.

Until now, I guess.

"I… see…"

"It didn't help that I was best friends with enemy number one- that I actively opposed them."

Her eyes grew hard, unaware of Eren's expanding list of regard. "It just happened to make me the most well-known example of a scapegoat used by those bigots," she spat, "And opportunistically, I was to be made an example of."

"So… you were a scapegoat? But for what?"

"For the problems within pureblood society. Witches and wizards who could trace their magical lineages for centuries."

Armin knew. Knew what they were all discovering- what it really came down to. That everywhere- always all it ever came down to was just another thing you couldn't control.

She had explained how her parents had no magic- that she'd grown up not knowing about it in the way she did now. That, in the beginning, her zeal and excitement to soak up all she could influenced her school years, personality, and even view of magic itself.

Again, he thought, how could that be any bounds to hate someone? How could that be spun sinisterly? Unlike Eldians and Marleyans, both groups had the same powers- were similar in more ways than different.

One group wasn't more of an innate weapon- er potential weapon, he corrected- than the other.

"But why, Hermione, why did they hate you so much? Enough to do that?" Jean asked.

"Some people hate others because it's all they know, all they've been taught, and maybe even all they have, really. It's pathetic," she shrugged.

Eren visibly stiffened.

Interesting, Armin thought.

"Some would lose their whole identity and their whole purpose for living if their established worldview were to crumble. They'd have to pick up the pieces- start anew- work to be a better them, and that's hard. Hating is easy, loving is hard. Besides, why would they live their life any differently if society hadn't had any real consequences for them by doing so? That's why. Or partly. I can't say the same for every bigot to ever exist."

Eren grew angrily pensive at her response. "What could cause such hatred? Hatred for hatred's sake. This- unjustified hatred."

"Well… some could say their ancestors were justified to be weary of us- to feel hatred even. Even I'm inclined. We were a danger to their safety centuries ago- when muggles- er no magic-wielding peoples would kill us in droves."

She picked at the skin around her nails, "Now? There's no excuse- no concrete proof for the bigotry they spew. It's hateful and ignorant and it's deplorable."

"They believe we are stealing their magic, taking it, diminishing their general birth rates, and increasing their squi- people with no magic born to magical families."

"But we aren't doing that- their inbreeding is."

"Oh- Oh ew! You mean they...?" Jean visibly blanched, as did most of the room.

Sasha gave a nervous side eye to those disgusted. "Uh? You guys don't marry cousins?"

"Sasha, I know you're a village girl, but there's no way-"

"-Why don't you let her finish, hm?"

"Yes, Captain," Sasha and Jean chorused.

Hermione took a deep breath, though a smile could be seen through the erudite. Armin couldn't help but have a secret smile of his own.

"Yes, Jean, if you mean incest? Then yes. Mostly distant- at most first cousins," she glanced at Sasha, "But done long enough to make every pureblood marriage an inbred one."

"Do you think that had an effect on their- yah know? Heads?" Hange's eyes glinted in the light of Hermione's bedroom.

"They do seem to churn out more sadistic people on average- though, that could just be a byproduct of hearing pureblood ideology since birth. But the inbreeding seems to have more bearing on fertility than anything else."

"Then there- well- everything's solved! Just marry out of the whole... pure… blood thing!"

Sasha paused.

"'Wonder if that kind of stuff's had an effect on me," she thought out loud.

"Wouldn't be surprised," Connie spoke through a cough.

"We'd be on the same boat dumbass-"

"-Sure, Sasha. They could just marry muggle-born, half-bloods, muggles even, but it's unlikely. Decades of indoctrination can be broken, yes, but enough to convince a whole group not to marry within their own culture or own friend groups? No, we're not there yet."

"Not anyone I personally know at least- purebloods that grew up spewing that sort of thing."

Eren's face dropped into his, now usual, stoicism, "You're saying you know purebloods who have changed?"

She nodded, "Mm, it took a war but many are honestly trying. A couple are mates of mine now too."

Eren's eyes widened and he stepped forward to grip the foot of her bed. Almost pleadingly he asked, "But don't you want retribution? Don't you want revenge?"

"Yes? Not really? I don't know," she replied sadly. "I don't think so, not in the way you mean. I get angry at times, but I-"

"-You've suffered so much by their hands. I know you've watched others suffer the same-"

Hermione flinched. "-yes, but-"

At Hermione's discomfort Armin grew tense, "Eren," he warned.

"-don't you want to avenge them? Don't you feel like you owe it to them?-"

"-Gods, yes-"

"-then fight for them!"

Armin looked back and forth, struck by the most emotion he's seen on Eren in days and surprised by their sudden row.

"I am fighting for them. Fighting for them in a way that fosters peace, not destruction," she argued.

Eren could only glare.

"But-"

"-Don't you want to prevent something like that from ever happening again? I do. I'm tired of fighting, Eren. I'm tired of war."

"War is inevitable," he persisted.

"War is also preventable, postponable. It's in our blood as humans," she emphasized to all, but Armin felt especially singled out as she squeezed his hand, "to fight, to be frightened, to be angry, but it's also in our blood to protect, to love, to care."

"We are not mindless animals, we are not pure titans, we can be reasoned with-"

"-ha!"

"-it may take time, it may be hard, and it may feel impossible at times but it's worth the effort."

"It has to be," she muttered under her breath.

Eren shook his head, lips set in a firm line. "I just don't understand how you can just let this go."

She eyed Eren without malice- without judgment, only curiosity.

"You haven't really fought a war with humans, have you?"

"Hermione?" His body stayed tense, yet his face slid into that of worry. He was hesitant to see where this led. He trusted Hermione- knew she only could mean well, but the topic was a sensitive one for the group.

"Sorry, sorry. I know you've fought them in a battle- in a fight, but not in a war. You've only really fought Titans, Titan shifters in battle- maybe humans if they got in the way… but against a government?" She sighed.

"I don't mean to patronize- and Gods I know I'm being presumptive but believe me when I say this- the effects of human-on-human war are more devastating than you can imagine."

"Yes, both have and can leave generations haunted and recuperating. Find children and innocents caught in the crossfire- disfigured, traumatized, and dead. But those were casualties made with the intention of defeating mindless, evil, inhumane monsters. It was more taxing physically, yes, but emotionally, killing humans when those humans are the enemy because of differing views instead of an obstacle to defeating evil is just… different."

"It's almost always as if the point was moot- as if those deaths were preventable- as if there was always another way."

To Armin's fascination, Eren's eyes tightened, almost in pain.

Armin was as equally curious about the meaning of Eren's reaction as he was unfortunately bugged by her input on their experience. Her habit of trying to help those around her- whether they liked it or not- also led her to clash with those around her. Which was infuriatingly endearing- adorably irritating even.

It was undeniable that she held more worldly knowledge, but she'd also not been there for the grief they shared over those they'd killed. If he were honest, it felt like she was minimizing the extent of their pain. It felt preachy, it felt out of touch, it felt wrong.

"I know I'm overstepping. I know I have no say in your political affairs, but I care about you- all of you."

"Hermione, I know you care but from everything I've heard-" Armin started.

"-Caring means caring about all of us. Eldians will continue to die if we don't fight, Hermione."

She sent an apologetic glance toward Armin while addressing Eren. "What will that kind of fighting do, Eren? Create more death? More conflict? What happens when you win? When the people are rightfully angry and impart that anger into the real world? It'll just start the cycle all over again. The way Marley did to you. I don't want to be a Marley, and I sure as hell hope you don't either."

And at the end of it all, Armin felt the same. What good would fighting do if it didn't end the fighting? It wasn't sustainable, it wasn't a world he'd want to impart on anyone. Death until the end of death was not a practical future.

Eren growled, "I don't want to oppress them- I don't need to oppress them. I just want to be free."

"And what does that freedom look like, Eren?"

"Like-" he stilled.

He was frozen, eyes glazed and stoney, mind stuck in a place so far away that Armin feared they were losing him- that he was already lost.

Eren… Armin leaned towards his friend, ready to support him in any way he could.

"Eren?" Mikasa worried, reaching for his shoulder.

More silence followed before Hermione broke it. "…Eren? Hey, I didn't mean to-"

"It's… fine," he replied steely. "If that's what works for your world- in your world- that's great. But don't go preaching to ours when you clearly don't understand-"

Hermione leaped forward and out of their embrace, looking ready to lock horns. So did Mikasa, which put Armin on an even greater edge.

"I don't understand?! What about this screams I don't understand?!" She gripped her forearm, holding it out for him to see. Blood oozed out of her bandages and onto her hands- her sheets. She clenched her teeth as she continued.

Armin scrambled to his knees at the sight. He pulled more sheets from under him and around her to apply pressure and stop the bleeding, no matter how futile.

"Believe me when I say I am not letting this go. There are times when I do want them to suffer, to understand my pain- to feel it. But it will only derail me from what I really want."

Armin tried catching Hermione's gaze. "Hermione. Hermione, what's the spell? Hermione, where's your wand? Say the spell."

Her eyes glinted with a steel he'd never seen from her before. It was directed at Eren and it was as frightening as it was mollifying.

"Hermione," Mikasa warned, nonetheless surprised.

"See, I could go out and kill them all. Torment and torture every last Death Eater- every last blood purist till I'm satisfied, till I drop."

"Hermione," Hange's eyes widened.

"I'm powerful enough- I could do it. But true revenge is seeing the world they wanted for me to never come to fruition. To create an environment so accepting, so permanent, so sickening to them that their only choices are to concede and assimilate, or die trying to fight it."

Seeing her like this was his own little revelation. Her strength was terrifying, her anger was bewitching. But those thoughts did nothing to distract from his care nor his worry.

Friend's presence be damned, he cradled her check in an almost plead, "Mond," he whispered, "You can't keep bleeding out like this."

She was heaving, eyes unblinking, stuck in a place he didn't want her in. He gently shook her cheek until she blinked away from her thoughts.

"Hm?"

Captain Levi sighed, "Sit down, brat."

Hermione assessed the Captain's face, confusion shifting to annoyance. "Ugh," she finally said, settling onto the bed. Palms pat the mattress, unraveling the sheets around her arm. Finally, she sighed at its retrieval.

Multiple pairs of eyes watched in fascination as she unwrapped the bandages and whispered some Latin-based spell, wand tip tracing those vile letters. After some well-observed silence, she cleaned up the blood once more then tiredly reached for Armin to hold her.

He happily complied, letting her head rest on his shoulder as she snuggled up against him.

This is nice. As nice as this situation would allow, of course.

It was… bittersweet, he compromised when he was suddenly struck by a realization.

I hope she doesn't regret sharing this with us…

Oh, Eren… he sighed and looked up only to find Eren nodding, seemingly satisfied. "At least we see eye to eye on some things."

Some of the tension dissipated from the air.

She blew a stray curl out of her face and chuckled darkly, "I guess."

"It wouldn't kill you to be more human once in a while."

"Ha! Ditto."

Eren shrugged, "That anger is productive, use it."

Hermione gave him a look of exasperation.

He shrugged again, looking away, "We don't need acceptance, Hermione. We need freedom. We can't just plead and wallow, letting our fate be decided by their hateful whim. We need to control our future, keep moving forward by our means."

Hermione thought for a second before nodding against Armin's shoulder, hair tickling his cheek, "Okay…" she sighed, "This is your world Eren, I'm not here to decide for you. I can only show you another way."

"And if there isn't?"

She shrugged. "I believe there is, but that's for all of you to decide." Armin held her tighter.

He nodded. "It is," he concluded.

"I do hope you get what you want Hermione. I hope we don't continue to fight on this… and I- I hope your curse ends," he continued.

His eyes were far away, his mind was someplace else.

"I do too," she replied softly.

His eyes snapped back to the two entwined. "So what will you do? About the…" he trailed off, eyes glancing at the scars.

"Nothing now, maybe nothing ever," her eyes stayed downcast, "Perhaps something if… when I go back- back to my world," her quiet words faded into a whisper.

Armin stiffened and Hermione's hands tightened their hold on his nightshirt.

"Right, you're going back," Eren stared at him, his eyes never leaving his. "Good luck."

Armin's brows tightened.

"Mm," she hummed noncommittally. "Thanks."

Eren's slight frown deepened and his brows furrowed. "I… I need to go to bed. I'll see you later," and he was already on his way out before she could reply.

Mikasa made a quiet nose of surprise, looking reluctant to follow but was, of course, ever loyal. "Um, bye Hermione. I'll… I'll talk to you tomorrow?"

Hermione nodded with a small smile and Mikasa followed Eren out of the tent with a jog.

Armin watched her go, heart heavy, having witnessed people who were dear to him fight in such a way. It ached to know that though it ended in peace today, there was much left unsaid and much more conflict to come.

With such a grave topic, how could there not be?

From the corner of his eye, he watched as Hermione sat up to address the rest of the room. "Sorry, do you guys also need to go?" Her hands fell to the bed to then twist in the sheets.

"I've been keeping you all up with all my screaming and rambling and- well, I'm tired anyways," she added sheepishly. "Again, I'm sorry to have woken you all."

He reached for her nervous hands, doleful that she even apologized for her pain- or made excuses at her expense.

Captain Levi sighed. "Yeah, we do have to get some sleep," he bluntly replied. "And don't be stupid. You shouldn't apologize."

Before she could reply, he made a swift turn, "C'mon, Four Eyes," dragging a sputtering Hange out with him as he went.

A good call on his part, else they keep Hermione up with their questions, Armin thought.

Connie began shifting from one foot to another, his well-meaning awkwardness on display. "Uh, goodnight?" He looked around for a window, but none existed within the tent. "Good morning? But uh yeah," he scratched the back of his head, "No need to say sorry, Hermione, you've had it pretty rough."

Her face displayed a strained gratitude, "Um, thanks, Connie. I appreciate that."

"Yeah Hermione, I've been woken up in the middle of the night for way worse reasons than this!"

"That was one time, Sasha, and it didn't even-"

"-No! It was two and you-"

However amused he was, he was thankful for Jean's intervention, "Alright guys," he shot them a look.

Both of their eyes crept slowly to the side where they finally landed on Armin and Hermione on the bed.

"Oh yeah-" they both started. Their heads snapped towards each other.

"We're just gonna-"

"I think it's time we-"

Sasha and Connie stopped, leaving Jean open to take the reins. "Night guys, we'll see you in the morning."

"Yeah, bye guys," they all waved apologetically before disappearing out of her bedroom door, their steps becoming fainter and fainter with each second.

"Interesting…" Hermione mused, brow raised.

"Never a dull day with them," he chuckled, studying their entwined hands.

She huffed softly, rubbing circles into the back of his hands with her thumbs.

"Yeah…" she replied softly.

"Yeah, I'm uh, sorry you had to see me like that. I hope you don't-"

"-No," he blushed. "I mean-" He recalled the glint in her eyes and the slight twitch of a smile at the corner of her lips.

Her head tilted in confusion, yet she managed a smile. "Armin, what is it?"

He shook his head, shooting her a bashful look from behind his lashes, "I… didn't mind at all- seeing you like that, that is."

"Oh."

Her smile became devious.

"Oh."

"N-not like that- er, well…"

Her laugh was sudden and boisterous, warranting the snapping of her head back and the shaking of her shoulders.

Armin stared at the crinkle of her eyes and the revealed flesh of her neck. His blush not only didn't diminish but grew in size.

"Armin," Hermione's mirthful voice brought him back. "It's okay if it was. I don't mind," she echoed, smirking.

He scratched the hair near his temple, "Alright," he chuckled, slightly embarrassed.

"And oh, I don't know," she began, nudging him with her shoulder. "I'm kind of glad that you… accept," she shot him a knowing look, "that side of me. It's, ehem, quite dreadful, I think, but I'm glad it does something for you."

He shook his head, "It wasn't dreadful, just human. Right, Hermione?"

"Yes, yes. My bad," she rolled her eyes playfully, "you're right."

He didn't reply. He couldn't.

He couldn't help but let the silence linger- permeate. He loved taking in the animated light in her eyes or the upturned resting of her lips. He loved seeing her like this.

She looked good… happy.

"Feeling better?" Armin asked proudly.

She took a moment to consider how she was feeling, taking slow and thoughtful breaths.

"You know what? I think I am," her eyes widened in delight.

"Good," he felt something settle in his chest. Something finite and beautiful.

His hands tightened around her's, "I'm…"

… prepared to spend every last day of my life making sure that continues…

"Glad."