Harry just stared at her open-mouthed, hardly daring to believe that Hermione was prepared to stand beside him so ferociously, despite the defeat that they had just suffered. She couldn't have put a name to the look in his eye just then. It wasn't love. It was something so fundamentally more potent, more raw, it had no name. Whatever it was, it took Hermione's breath away to have it fixed on her so pointedly.