Harry Potter & The Panacea by Falcon

Rating: R
Genres: Drama, Action & Adventure
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 04/01/2003
Last Updated: 05/12/2004
Status: Paused

Harry is on a mission for Dumbledore. Hermione helps him. Plenty of H/Hr interaction. Each
chapter has a different rating for content.




1. Chapter 1
------------

**Author’s Note***: I know most of you will threaten me again here, I may get another
chapter out here in another month or so. I finish this one quite awhile ago, just forgot to upload
it. Enjoy!*

**Disclaimer***: I don’t own Harry Potter, but I wish I did.*

**Chapter 1**

Harry Potter walked into his study and dropped into his favorite chair. He grabbed a tattered
book off his desk, propped his feet up and began reading. Two hours later, he dropped the book in
exasperation.

“Another dead end!” he said aloud. He looked at the books stacked on his desk and on his table
in annoyance, “So much knowledge and so little time.”

Harry grabbed another book and started reading. The hours passed, and the pile of discarded
books grew larger. He looked up when Hedwig landed on her perch beside his desk. The Snowy Owl had
an envelope in her beak and two cylindrical packages attached to her legs, and Harry looked at them
curiously for a moment before removing them. The envelope was from Hermione, as were the other two
objects. He tore open the envelope and pulled out a sheaf of computer paper, and a piece of
parchment. He looked at the parchment first.

*Harry,*

*Happy Birthday! Guess what! I’ve got great news! The publishers of Hogwarts: A History,*
*want me to write their new revised edition! Isn’t that great! Enclosed is the first draft of my
first few pages. How about you grab those two presents from me and Apparate to my parents’ house,
so we can celebrate your birthday. I’ve missed you these past few months, and can’t wait to see
you.*

*Love always,*

Hermione

Harry gasped when he realized that he had been so preoccupied that he had completely forgotten
his birthday. He snatched a quill from his desk and jotted down a quick note.

*Hermione,*

*Thank you for the gifts. I have a request however, please hold your pendant and say my
name.*

*Harry*

He quickly rolled the small note and attached it to Hedwig’s leg. Pausing for a moment, he
scribbled another note that he folded and stuck in the bird’s beak. He lifted the owl off her perch
and carried her up the two flights of stairs to the ground floor of the house. He opened a one-way
shutter that allowed owls in but not out. Raising his arm, he whispered a spell over her.

“Leave the note in your beak on the Granger’s kitchen table, and deliver the other to Hermione.
Now go Hedwig!” Harry launched the owl off his arm and into the bright sunlight. The owl flew away
with such speed that any Muggle that saw her would think she was the contrail from a jet plane.

Harry went back to his study and grabbed another book to read while he waited. He had read the
first twenty pages and was making notes when Hermione Granger appeared in front of him. Her long
brown hair had been highlighted with blonde streaks, and it was pulled back behind her ears in two
bunches. She had on a baby t-shirt that didn’t leave much to the imagination, short, jean shorts
that showed her long legs, and comfortable looking white sneakers. She looked around her in
surprise, her eyes coming to rest on Harry, who had risen when she first appeared.

“HARRY!” Hermione rushed around the desk and threw her arms around him so forcefully that she
knocked him back into his chair and ended up on his lap.

Harry returned her hug with equal force, and they just sat there holding one another for a long
moment.

“I’ve missed you Harry.” Hermione whispered into his shirt.

“I’ve missed you too.” He said softly.

Hermione stood up and looked around again. “So Harry,” she said, “where are we?”

Harry scratched the back of his head before answering. “This is my place.”

Hermione smiled. “Well, are you going to give me the tour, or do I have to explore on my
own?”

He grinned, and waved a hand at their present location. “This is my study, or given the way it
is now, my library.”

She grinned in response. “You certainly do have a lot of old books. If I were the nosy sort, I
would be inclined to ask why.”

Harry chuckled. “Good thing you’re not the nosy sort then, isn’t it?” He offered her his arm.
“If you would come with me, I’ll show you the rest.”

Hermione eagerly grabbed his arm, and he led her out the door and into the hall. He escorted her
through each room of his house, and she oooh’ed and ahhh’ed at each turn. However, when he led her
to the living room, she gasped.

“Harry! Isn’t that?” She released his arm and moved to the center of the room where a sword was
standing straight up from the floor. As she got closer, she noticed that the sword was stuck into a
rock level with the floor’s surface. She reached out her hand to touch it, and the sword glowed in
warning.

Harry quickly, but gently grabbed her hand. She looked up at him, and for the first time noticed
that he wasn’t wearing his glasses. His eyes glowed with green fire as he stared at the sword. She
looked back, and the weapon slowly lost its glow.

“You have to be careful around Excalibur, Hermione,” he said, his voice startling her. “It’s got
a mind of its own sometimes.” He gently lowered her hand to rest on the cold pommel of the weapon.
“It hadn’t been bonded to anyone in so long that it forgot what friendship means. I had to remind
it that I am its friend, and you are my friend.” Harry explained, removing his hand from hers. “You
can touch it now, without me.”

Hermione felt the mystic sword grow warm under her touch, and a tentative nudge at her mind. She
opened her thoughts, and the presence cautiously ventured forward. It was in the shape of a man,
and looked a lot like Harry. It spoke softly, it’s deep voice rolling gently through her mind.

*“I am Caliburnus or as you say Excalibur. My master has assured me that you are no threat to
either myself or to him. I apologize for my behavior, but as my master said, it has been a very
long time since I last knew the companionship of one worthy of my power. I can see now that you too
would be worthy to wield me in combat. If ever my master forsakes me, I will seek you out.”* The
image slowly retreated to the edge of her consciousness, and then it disappeared.

Hermione looked quickly to Harry, and he nodded. Apparently, he had witnessed the entire
conversation.

“Don’t look so freaked out Hermione. That was one of the biggest compliments you could ever
receive.” He took her hand and led her back to the study. She seemed to come out of her shock once
he closed the door.

“I can’t believe that I just spoke to Excalibur! It was amazing; I could feel the power inside
it just from its voice!”

Harry smiled. He had been pretty much the same way when it had first spoken to him, on that
night long ago when he put an end to Voldemort. Unfortunately, he hadn’t been quick enough to stop
the evil wizard from speaking one last curse at Dumbledore, before turning to deal with Harry. That
reminded him.

He looked at Hermione, who had fallen silent as his expression turned sour.

“I need your help.” He stated.

Hermione looked at him. “With what Harry? Does it have something to do with all these books?”
she asked.

“Yes.”

“Are you going to tell me or do I have to guess?”

“Remember the night I killed Voldemort?”

She nodded and took a seat on the small couch. She had a feeling this wasn’t going to be
good.

“Well, while you and Ron were keeping the Death Eaters busy, and I was trying to get close to
attack with the sword, Voldemort cast a very ancient spell on Dumbledore.”

Hermione’s eyes widened. “You mean that the reason Dumbledore went blind is because of that
curse?”

Harry nodded sadly. “Not just blind, he’s been going deaf too. And last word I had from him, his
body is starting to waste away.”

Her eyes full of tears, Hermione looked up at Harry. “What can I do to help?”

He gestured at the books stacked everywhere. “It’s this, there’s so many books that have to be
gone through, and there’s only one of me. I’ve been through maybe a quarter of them, and made notes
on any curse that remotely sounds like the words I heard Voldemort say that night.”

Hermione stood up and wrapped her arms around Harry’s middle. “We’ll find a cure Harry. I
promise.” She tightened her hug. “The only spell without a counter spell is the killing curse, so
we know right off that this curse has a cure somewhere, we just have to find it.”

Harry returned her hug, and laid his head on top of hers. “I’m glad you’re here. I’ve been at
this for the past three months.”

“Why haven’t you asked for help before this?” she asked. “You know that I would have been here
as soon as I got your owl.” Hermione frowned and looked up at Harry. “That is if I knew where here
was.”

Harry laughed. “I’m sorry, I forgot to tell you. This is the old Shrieking Shack in
Hogsmeade.”

“You’re joking!”

“Nope, bought it two years ago with some of the money I had made off Fred and George’s
shop.”

“How did you make money Harry? Have you been endorsing their products like Ron has?”

“Nope, I’m their silent partner. Remember that money I won off the Triwizard Tournament?”

“You didn’t!”

“I did. I figured some good should come of that money, so I gave it to Fred and George. They
used it to open their first shop, and they send me a monthly check by owl for one thousand
galleons. I go to London every so often and withdraw some from Gringott’s.”

“I’m impressed.” She said.

“Don’t be. It keeps me comfortable, and out of the public view. You know that old saying, “out
of sight, out of mind.” Well, it works great for me. I ditched my glasses, and grew my hair out
even longer than before, and now nobody even recognizes me.”

“I was wondering when and why you grew this.” Hermione reached up and tugged on a tuft of
shoulder length hair. “But speaking of public view, have you heard about Ron?”

Harry turned away to hide a scowl. “No, I’ve owled him at least twice a month for the past six
months, and have yet to hear back from him.”

Hermione caught the pain in Harry’s voice, and patted his shoulder. “Don’t feel bad, you can’t
get him to write to you, and I can’t get him to stop writing me.”

He spun around. “Why would you want him to stop writing you?”

She sighed and sat back down. “Long story, and if you want to hear it I suggest you grab those
two bottles off your desk.”

Harry raised his hands, and the two bottles flew into his grasp. He took the paper off them both
and opened them. He handed her one and sat next to her.

Hermione watched the flying bottles with her mouth open in surprise. She closed her mouth, and
took the proffered bottle. Taking a sip, she closed her eyes to gather her thoughts, then she
started speaking.

“I guess I’d have to say that it started about a year ago. You know two years ago he got
recruited by the Cannons as their relief keeper, and he was so happy.” She opened her eyes and
caught his nod. She took another drink, and continued. “Well, he and I spent a lot of time together
while you were away, and we grew close. Very close. Then he went to training camp, and when he came
back he was a little different, but not much and I ignored it for the most part. Then, I got an owl
from him a month ago saying that he’s been nominated for MVP for the Cannons. He invited me to
attend a team dinner, but I was just starting my book, and my mother was getting an award that
night, so I told him I couldn’t make it. Not thinking on my part, I told him in person.”

Harry winced in sympathy. “Ouch. I can imagine what he said to that.”

“Yeah, made me long for that fight after the Yule Ball,” she chuckled, “you’d have thought that
I had suddenly revealed that I was carrying Malfoy’s baby, and that it was possessed by Voldemort
from the way he carried on. I finally grew tired of his tirade, and Apparated home. Since then,
he’s owled me constantly, begging me to take him back. Funny thing is, it never occurred to me that
I had him. And after seeing the way he acts now that he’s in the spotlight, I don’t want him.” She
took a long drink of butterbeer.

Harry shook his head. “Damn, I just knew fame would go to his head. I had always hoped it would
be different, but deep down I had this feeling that he wouldn’t be able to handle it. How are his
parents taking it?”

Hermione was silent for a moment. “His dad and brothers are happy as can be, his mother is
worried he’ll get hurt, and Ginny is depressed that he doesn’t visit as much as he used to.”

“I guess that’s why I haven’t heard back from him. He’s just too busy to answer letters from old
friends. I thought about Apparating to his location and giving him a portkey like I did you so that
he could visit me.” At his words, Hermione’s hand leaped up to clutch her pendant.

“Please don’t tell Ron about this place, it’s the only place he can’t bother me!” She rubbed the
pendant thoughtfully. “I thought this might be a portkey, but I’ve touched it constantly since you
gave it to me, and even said your name while holding it and it never worked. Why did it work this
time? And why isn’t it working now?”

Harry smiled and explained. “It never worked before, because I didn’t allow it to work,” he
grinned wickedly, “It’s not working now for the same reason.”

Hermione caressed the emerald teardrop pendant, and stared deep into Harry’s eyes. “What now?”
she asked softly, her voice a trifle husky.

Harry’s gaze dropped from her eyes, he stared at where her hand played with the emerald. He
couldn’t help himself, and he looked harder. His eyes glowed softly, and he watched her grow
excited. With an incredible effort, he tore his gaze away and back up to her eyes. What he saw
there did not help him any, but somehow he fought against the desire building inside him.

He stood up quickly, and turned his back to her while he regained control of himself. Taking a
deep breath, he turned back to Hermione. She had managed to calm herself considerably too, and
stared up at him in amazement.

“What…was…that?” She asked.

Harry blushed. That was the first time he had ever done that on accident. “Sorry, when I get
excited or upset, my power can get a little out of hand.”

Hermione blushed. “It felt like you were touching me.”

“Yeah, sorry about that. What do you expect, I haven’t seen a girl in three months.” He rubbed
the back of his neck self-consciously.

She smiled and shook her head.

“So, where do I sleep while we’re doing all this research?” she asked, finally ending the
moment.

He smiled, and bit his tongue before answering. “Leave this room, go to the bathroom, and take
the door to the right. I’m the door on the left and we share the bathroom, so I suggest we either
get comfortable with the sight of each other naked, or lock the door behind us. And NO
*Alohamora*!”

Hermione giggled. She did have a way with that particular spell. She looked up at Harry and
really took stock of him for the first time. As she had noted before, the glasses were gone, the
hair was much longer, his jaw was covered by several day’s worth of stubble and he now towered over
her by almost ten inches, where before he had only been about six inches taller than she was.
“You’ve gotten taller, are you using growth spells?”

“No, it’s just another growth spurt.”

“How tall are you now anyway?” she asked.

“Uhm…about 6’4” I think.”

“Wow! You’re 4 inches taller than Ron now!”

“I know, and I can’t wait to call him “midget.” Harry grinned at the thought. “Seriously now,
you really don’t want me to tell him about this place?”

“That’s right Harry, I’m begging you not to tell anyone else about this! I really need a place
where I can get away from everybody and write my book, but now that I know what you’ve been busy
with my book will have to wait until we find a cure for Dumbledore.”

Harry gave her a long, searching look. “Are you sure Hermione? I don’t want you to feel
resentful that I’ve taken you from your book.”

Hermione walked right up to him, so close their bodies where touching when they breathed, and
looked up into his face. “I’m sure Harry. I’ve already told McGonagall that I’m writing the book,
and that I’ll be on sabbatical until it’s finished. She told me to take my time and make sure it’s
done right, so I have all the time in the world to write the book, however from the way you’ve been
working, I gather that Dumbledore doesn’t.”

“No, he doesn’t. He’s using all his power to stay alive, and a lot of potions that make him
sleep to fight death.”

She looked more closely at him, and noticed the bags under his eyes, and the pallor of his skin.
“When was the last time you slept Harry? Or had a decent meal?”

“I can’t remember that last time I had a full night’s sleep, I go to bed, and an hour later I’m
in here reading like crazy. I get tired, go to bed for another two or three hours, and here I am
again, reading some more. Meal, what’s that? I’ve been living on soup, crackers and cheese, quick
fixes that I can eat and read at the same time.”

Hermione frowned. “Well, tonight you’re going to take a break from reading, I’m going to fix you
a good hearty dinner, we’ll catch up some more, you’ll shower, and then you, Mr. Potter, are going
to get eight hours of uninterrupted sleep! I will take over the reading until you’ve regained your
strength. And I will hear no arguing about it! Is that clear?”

Harry smiled. “God I’ve missed you! You are just what I’ve been needing, someone to MAKE me go
to bed!”

She pushed him away lightly, “Oh, go on.” She walked over to the desk and looked down at the
assorted books. “So what spell are we looking for?”

“The words I heard sounded like *Mortificare* *Deteriorare.* Or something like
that.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “The Wasting Death!”

“You know of it?”

“Yes! I found mention of it when I was doing research over Hogwarts' first years. There’s
only one book in the world that mentions the actual spell and its cure, and that book disappeared
600 years ago!”

“Do you know the name of the book?”

“No, the name has been lost for centuries. I just happened to stumble onto the name of the
spell, and what it means. So we’ll have to continue reading and hope we find it mentioned
again.”

He wiped his forehead. “Whew! I was beginning to think that I had read all those books for
nothing.”

Hermione laughed. “I bet.” She grabbed a book at random, walked over to the couch, and made
herself comfortable. “Guess we better get started.”

Harry took his book off his desk, seated himself beside her, and continued his reading. They
read straight through the next few hours, and only looked up when Hedwig entered the room followed
by a large Screech Owl, and a big Barn Owl. Hedwig carried two letters, and the other two had both
letters and packages.

He set down his book in time to catch the letter and package dropped by the Barn Owl. He quickly
handed them to Hermione, and caught the items carried by the Screech Owl. He directed both birds to
a perch along the wall, where they could get some water and food. Hedwig landed between Harry and
Hermione, and let her two letters fall from her beak.

Hermione petted the haughty bird while Harry went through his letters. Three were to him, and
one to Hermione. He opened the heaviest envelope first, inside was a piece of parchment and a
Gringotts' key.

*Harry,*

*Happy birthday. I have a few things to tell you and I’m not sure how to go about it. So, I’m
going to just say it and I apologize for the shock it may cause you.*


*Your parents left certain items in my care in case Voldemort did get to them. I regret not
doing this sooner, however this is the first time I have been able to come to terms with it. I
implore that you visit the vault when you are ready. Please do not rush into it, it is the main
reason it has taken me this long to get their belongings to you.*


*The enclosed key is to vault #219. In it, you will find your parents’ belongings, which they
wanted you to have.*

Sirius

Harry felt himself getting all choked up while he read. Looking up, he caught Hermione’s
concerned expression and wordlessly handed it to her. He recognized Hagrid’s untidy scrawl on one
of the letters and opened it next.

*Harry,*

*Happy Birthday! Haven’t seen you in awhile stop by and visit sometime, me and Fang miss you.
Hope you enjoy the fudge.*

Hagrid

*PS – You should see the animal for this years’ Care of Magical Creatures**, he’s a
beauty.*

Hagrid’s tastes were well known to them both, and they shuddered at the thought of what the
animal might be. Harry opened the third letter and was great surprised to find that it was from
Professor Lupin.

*Harry,*


*Happy birthday. I know I’ve never given you anything before, however Sirius recently brought
it to my attention, that if your parents lived I would be Uncle Remus. This present was given to me
by your father, I have no use for it now since I have learned to control myself during my
transformations. You may be able to put this to good use.*

*Remus (Uncle Moony)*

Harry quickly yanked the paper off the more neatly wrapped box. He opened it and inside was a
tightly woven coat of chain mail. He was surprised to note that it weighed next to nothing, and
figured that it must be enchanted.

Hermione had waited until Harry had opened all his letters before looking at hers. When she
recognized the writing, she grit her teeth in aggravation. She calmly removed the letter and read
it aloud:

*My Dearest Hermione,*

*Why haven’t you been returning my owls? A lot has been going on with the Cannons, I’ve been
elected MVP for the team again! The price of my rookie cards will definitely be increasing, make
sure you buy some before they get too expensive.*


*Now that you have had time to calm down from your fit since we last talked, I want you to
come to my awards ceremony tonight. I’ll Apparate to your parents around 7, so be ready to go and
make sure you look your best.*

*Love,*

*Ron*

*MVP of the Chuddley Cannons*

Hermione savagely tore the letter in two, and gestured at Harry with one of the pieces. “You
see! You see what I’ve had to put up with!” She leaped to her feet startling a dozing Hedwig who
screeched her annoyance. “The nerve of that boy! Expecting me to drop any plans that I might have
to attend an awards ceremony with him! And I can’t believe he forgot today was your birthday!”

Harry looked appalled at Ron’s impudence. “Wow, I see what you mean. He’s definitely got an
attitude. I don’t blame you for trying to get away from him. Was I ever that bad?”

Hermione flopped back down causing Hedwig to take flight and seek a more peaceful environment in
which to nap. She wadded up the torn letter and hurled it across the room.

“He’s going to be at my house at 7,” she looked at a nearby clock, “I’ve got two hours to go
home get packed and get back here, before he shows up.” Hermione said, leaping to her feet. She
looked at Harry. “You have to send me back now, so I can get everything I need.”

Harry nodded and stood up. He wrapped his hand around her pendant, ignoring their closeness, and
whispered a spell. He released the necklace and stepped back.

“There you go, all you have to do now is say your destination and it will take you there. When
you’re ready to come back, take hold of it and say my name.”

Hermione nodded. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” She grasped the pendant said her destination
and disappeared.

Harry wrote some quick thank you notes, then motioned for the two birds to follow him. He led
them to the exit, attached his letters then saw them off. He went back downstairs, grabbed a soda
from the fridge and went back to his reading.

The time passed swiftly, and before he knew it, Hermione was back in his study, a backpack slung
over one shoulder, a duffle bag over the other, a suitcase in each hand and the pendant clutched in
her teeth. She dropped her burdens before Harry could jump up to help her, spit out the pendant and
swore softly.

“He was early!” She spat. “Can you believe that Ron Weasley, a guy who is perpetually late, was
EARLY?” She grabbed Harry’s soda and gulped it down. “I barely made it out of there before he got
upstairs to my room. Luckily, my mom stopped him to chat, and that gave me the time I needed to
pack one last bag and get out of there.” Hermione dropped onto the couch and handed Harry his empty
soda. “Thanks. I needed that.”

Harry looked at the empty bottle, then at her. “Sure. No problem. Want another?”

“No thank you.” She looked hard at him. “I was thinking, we should go out tonight.”

“Huh? What about the dinner you were gonna fix?”

Hermione smiled. “I reconsidered. You look like you could use a night on the town. I’ve been
hearing about this new club that opened in Hogsmeade last year, and I’ve been dying to go see
it.

“A club?” Harry looked dubious. “What kind of club?”

“It’s a nice club Harry. Not suits and ties, but nice.”

Harry scratched his head. “I don’t know Hermione, I’ve gotten used to being forgotten, if I go
out in public now—“ he shrugged.

“That was before, Harry. You’re different now. You’re taller, your hair’s longer, you’re not
wearing your glasses, and the stubble—you’d be surprised at how un-Harry Potter you look.”

He ran a hand through his hair and grinned. “Well, maybe. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t
getting cabin fever, and a night out sounds like fun. A little distraction before we have to buckle
down with this research.”

Hermione clapped her hands. “That’s the spirit Harry! I’ll make you some Pepper-Up Potion real
quick, and then we can go get ready.”

Harry laughed. He had to admit that her excitement was catching, and the fear of being
recognized was fading. It was being replaced by the urge to go out and have fun, something he
hadn’t done in far too long.

“I’m going to go fix that potion. You go take a shower and get dressed.” Hermione hopped off the
couch and left the room. Following in her wake, Harry had just opened the bathroom door when she
stuck her head around the corner. “And Harry, do try to find something NICE to wear!”

Harry chuckled as he went into the bathroom and started his shower. He came out fifteen minutes
later to find a steaming cup of Pepper-Up Potion waiting on his dresser. He smiled, gulped it down,
and ignored the steam coming out of his ears. He put on a clean pair of briefs, and stood staring
into his closet. Harry didn’t have much of a fashion sense, what with growing up wearing Dudley’s
castoffs and all, and the little he did have was gleaned from Sirius. He remembered the
conversation they had had about style very well.

“Remember this Harry,” Sirius had said. “Black goes with everything, and it works for any
occasion.” He had clapped Harry on the shoulder, and whispered quietly. “Not to mention, chicks dig
guys in black.” Harry had grinned. “I’m serious!” That had caused Harry to laugh outright.

“What’s so funny?” His godfather had asked.

“It’s just that you’re talking about black, and then you said you’re serious,” Harry had
chuckled.

It had taken Sirius a few seconds to see the relation, but when he did, he had laughed even
harder than Harry. “I haven’t made or had anyone make puns of my name in a very long time,” he
wiped his eyes, “brings back a lot of memories.”

Harry had patted the older man’s shoulder. “I’m sorry Sirius.”

“Don’t be. You just reminded me of James right then,” he had said. “He used to tease me all the
time about my name.” Sirius had smiled broadly in memory. “You should have seen the look on his
face the first time I transformed. He laughed for days every time he thought about it. Me, Sirius
Black turning into a black dog, talk about irony.”

Harry shook off the memory, and dug into his closet. He had lots of clothes, and per Sirius’
advice, they were all black. He grabbed a turtleneck, trousers, and with a little nod to Bad Bill
Weasley, a pair of knee high, dragon hide boots. Harry got dressed quickly, ran a brush through his
hair and went to the study to wait for Hermione.

He had just seated himself when Hermione entered the room. Harry’s jaw dropped. She looked
incredible. Her long, thick hair was piled in a bun at the back of her head, with tendrils hanging
down in back, and on the sides. Her wand was thrust through the bun to hold it in place. She was
wearing a black, satin cocktail dress with a sparkling tulle covering. The covering had a high
collar, flared sleeves, and gave the impression of a starlit night. Black stockings, and
high-heeled shoes completed her ensemble.

Harry closed his mouth and searched for something to say. “Uhm—Herm—Hermione. You look
beautiful.”

“Thank you,” Hermione blushed. She gave him a once over. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

It was Harry’s turn to blush, and he coughed self-consciously. “Uhm. Thanks,” he indicated the
door. “Shall we go?” They went upstairs to the hidden door. As they slipped out the secret opening,
she linked her arm through his. They walked into Hogsmeade in companionable silence. Harry looked
around, noticing all the little changes that had taken place since the last time he had been there.
He immediately picked out Weasley Wizard Wheezes due to the huge exploding wand on top of the
building. Down the road, a line of people could be seen waiting to get into a building called The
Crystal Ballroom & Black Cat Club.

“Is that the place?” Harry asked.

“That’s the place.” She answered. “Although, I have no idea how we’re going to get a table.”

“Easy, leave that to me,” he said. Harry waved his hand and they became invisible. He waved it
again, and the people in front of them casually moved aside for no apparent reason. He tugged her
to the front of the line, and made them visible again. Hermione expected a fuss, but nobody seemed
to notice them. She was about to comment on this, when her name was called from inside.

“Yoo-hoo! Miss Granger!”

Hermione squinted into the darkness of the club. “Who’s there? Who called me?”

A woman appeared behind one of the big bouncers. “It’s me, Professor Trelawney.”

Hermione groaned quietly, but pasted a big smile on her face. “Professor! What are you doing
here?”

Sybil Trelawney smiled. “Now, now, Hermione. We’re colleagues now. You can call me by my
name.”

Her smile slipping a little, Hermione strived for a polite blandness. “Of course Sybil,” she
nodded. “What are you doing here?”

Sybil’s smile broadened. “I own this place.”

“Wow! What made you decide to open a club?” Hermione asked. “I thought you—“ She started to say
something, but Sybil cut her off.

“Please, come in. I do so hate to have a conversation with people in the way.” She looked
pointedly at the mountain of muscle blocking their entrance. “Honestly, you would think these louts
would actually READ the list of people to be admitted without reservations.” She shoved the big man
aside, and grabbed Hermione’s hand and pulled them inside the club.

Once they were inside the club, the doors shut behind them and the lights came up. Trelawney
looked closely at Hermione and Harry. “So Hermione, who’s your handsome friend?”

Hermione struggled not to smile, and to come up with an alias for Harry. She gave herself time
to think by acting appalled that she had forgotten to introduce them.

“I am so sorry! Where are my manners?” She indicated Harry. “This is—“

Harry stepped forward before she could think of anything, and extended his hand. “Hi. Name’s
John James Black,” he said, with a strong American accent. “Folks call me Johnny, Jimmy or even
J.J,” he smiled. “I’m a third cousin to Sirius Black. I’m over here visitin’ him, and he set me up
with this gal.” Hermione’s eyebrows shot up at this.

“Ah. Well, if you’re going to be here for a while, I do hope you’ll allow me to show you the
more interesting bits.” Sybil smiled.

Hermione covered her laugh with a choked cough, and Harry pretended that he didn’t know what she
had really meant.

Harry grinned at the wizened woman. “That sounds like fun, but this little gal has already
volunteered to show me all the interesting bits.” Hermione seemed to have developed a lung
condition, and he clapped her on the back.

“Oh. Perhaps another time then.” Trelawney’s, disappointment was evident in her voice. She
cleared her throat, and became all business. “Would you like a private table, booth, or do you
prefer the bar?”

“We’d like a private table please, in a dark corner if you have it. Way I hear it, Hermione here
is kinda famous, and we’d rather not be disturbed.” Harry smiled.

Trelawney nodded in understanding. “Yes, yes, of course.” She winked at Hermione. “If you would
follow me please.” She led them past the Maitre’d, giving the woman a sour look and instructing her
to check the line at the door for notables every 30 minutes, instead of every hour. Their table was
at the far end of the club, tucked into a dark corner, softly lit by candles, and hidden from view
by hanging plants.

Harry pulled Hermione’s chair out for her, then seated himself with his back to the wall, so
that he could watch the room.

“Someone will be here shortly with your menus.” Trelawney said. “If you’ll excuse me, I have
other matters to attend to.” She departed quickly.

Hermione waited until Trelawney was out of earshot, then she turned an accusing glance on Harry.
“You enjoyed that a little too much. Making her think that you and I were—were—.” Words failed her,
so she settled for folding her arms and giving him her best frown. “Honestly Harry.”

Harry gave her his best innocent look. “What?” His eyes twinkled suddenly and he grinned. “You
should have seen the look on your face! It was priceless!”

“I’m sure.” Hermione said, her voice very droll.

“Oh come on Hermione. You know I was just playing.”

“Well it wasn’t funny! I can just see it now, Trelawney goes back to Hogwarts on September
1st, and starts telling people that I was in the company of a stranger, and that I had
promised to show him my bits!” She glared daggers at him. “I have a reputation you know!”

Harry looked ashamed, and tried to mollify her. “I’m sorry Hermione. It’s just that I’ve been
cooped up for three whole months. I’m not quite myself yet.”

Hermione’s expression softened. “I know Harry. It’s a very noble thing that you’re doing. I’m
sure Dumbledore greatly appreciates everything you’ve done for him.

Harry was about to say more, but their waitress arrived with their menus.

“Hello,” smiled the pretty blonde. “My name is Sidreena, and I’ll be your server for this
evening.” She handed each a menu. “What can I get for you?”

Harry ran down the menu quickly. “I’ll have a butterbeer for starters—Hermione?”

“I’ll have a butterbeer as well,” she said. Hermione looked at the menu. “Hmm. How about we
start with chips and salsa? I’m in the mood for something spicy,” she told Harry.

Harry heard Hermione say something, but his attention was focused on the waitress, who was
smiling and making eyes at him. Her smile faltered when Hermione cleared her throat.

“Ahem!”

Harry looked guilty, and the waitress looked quickly to Hermione.

“Sorry ma’am,” she said. She wrote quickly on her pad. “That was two butterbeers, chips and
salsa. Would you like a few more minutes to decide on the entree?”

“Yes please.” Harry said.

“Alright, I’ll return shortly.” The waitress bustled off, with perhaps a little more sway to her
walk than was completely necessary. Harry leaned sideways and stared after her.

Hermione shook her head and smiled. “Honestly. I can’t take you anywhere.”

Realizing what he was doing, Harry blushed, and sat up in his chair. “I’m really sorry
Hermione.” He made a pointed effort to look her in the eye, which caused her to laugh. “This is why
I haven’t been out in three months, I was trying to avoid distractions.” As he talked, his gaze
traveled down her face, to her neck and finally settled on her chest. He watched her breasts rise
and fall as she breathed, and when he realized what he was doing, he jerked his gaze back up to
meet hers.

“You’re hopeless,” she chuckled. “You were never this bad before Harry. Why the sudden
fascination with women?”

Harry frowned in thought. “I guess I’d have to say that it started around 3rd year, I
noticed Cho was pretty, then at the beginning of 4th year, the Veela at the Quidditch
Cup had my head full of strange thoughts. Then when I saw you at the Yule Ball, I noticed for the
first time just how pretty you had gotten.”

“You thought I was pretty?”

“You were very pretty, and I couldn’t believe that I hadn’t noticed it before. Anyway, after
that I started really looking at girls, and listening to the other guys talk about girls. Then Ron
asked to borrow my invisibility cloak, and he didn’t want to tell me why.”

“He did what?” she asked, her eyes growing wide. “You didn’t let him did you?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Good.” Hermione said.

“It made him mad for a few days, but I didn’t care too much. But it did get me thinking, so I
used it to sneak into the girls’ dorm one night.”

Hermione’s eyes bulged. “YOU DID WHAT!”

“Shhhhh! Keep your voice down!” Harry hissed.

“Harry, please tell me you’re joking about that.”

“Sorry, but you know how my curiosity is. I can’t let something go until my curiosity is
satisfied. Anyway, I sneaked into the girls’ dorm room, and waited to see something. I wasn’t
really sure what I was there to see, but I wasn’t leaving until I saw it.” He admitted.

Hermione looked horrified at his revelation. “You didn’t.”

“I did. I watched you all change for bed.”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that.” She said, with narrowed eyes.

“Hey, you asked about my fascination with girls,” Harry shrugged. “This is all part of it.”

“That was before I knew how perverted you were.” Hermione’s smile took the sting from her words.
“Did you—uhm—see any of us—naked?”

Harry blushed. “Uhm—I’d rather not say.”

“You’re not getting off that easy!”

Blushing furiously, Harry raised an eyebrow. “You want to rephrase that?”

Hermione was about to reply, when the waitress arrived with their appetizer.

“Here you are, two butterbeers, salsa and tortilla chips. Are you ready to order?”

“Yes, I’ll have the 16 ounce Sirloin steak, well done, the dinner salad with Ranch dressing, and
a baked potato, hold the sour cream,” Harry looked up from his menu. “Hermione?”

“I’ll have the Bruschetta Chicken and the dinner salad with Italian Vinaigrette,” she
answered.

“Okay, that’s a 16 ounce Sirloin, well done, dinner salad with Ranch, baked potato no sour
cream, a Bruschetta Chicken, and a dinner salad with Italian Vinaigrette,” the waitress said,
reading from her pad. “Will there be anything else?”

“No thank you, that will be all for now.” Harry answered.

“Alright, your food should take about 15 minutes,” she smiled, “give or take.” She hurried off
again, and Harry turned back to Hermione.

“Now, back to our discussion. You want to know if I saw any of you naked, right?”

“Harry, I don’t think—“

“Oh no, you asked. To answer the question, yes I did see all of you naked. But that was
later.”

“LATER! YOU MEAN YOU DID THAT MORE THAN ONCE!” Hermione’s voice climbed in volume again and he
quickly shushed her.

“The only way I’ll keep talking is if you stop raising your voice!”

“Sorry. But you mean to tell me that you watched us not once but twice!”

“Actually, I watched from 5th year until graduation,” he said, looking ashamed. “I
couldn’t help myself, you were all so pretty.”

“You thought we were pretty?” she asked. Hermione looked down. “I hate to ask this, but I have
to know.” She blushed a light pink. “How—how’d I look?”

Harry couldn’t believe his ears. “How’d you look?” he quoted. “You looked incredible. Of all the
girls we went to school with, you had the best body hands down!”

Hermione’s light pink blush grew to a light red, and she kept her head down. “Really? I hate to
sound conceited, but this is the first time anyone has complimented me on my body.”

Harry nodded, “I don’t wish to sound crude, but since you asked, I can tell you truthfully that
you have perfect breasts, incredible legs, and a spectacular butt.”

Hermione went from a light red to a vivid scarlet. “Thank you. I never knew—“

“I can see why you don’t get many compliments, you hide under your robes, and behind your books.
You never let anyone **see** you Hermione!”

“What would you have me do, wear mini-skirts and shirts that are too small?”

Harry shook his head. “Nothing so provocative, just not robes all the time. The only time you
wear less, is during the summer, and then it’s only when you’re at home alone. I was very surprised
when you showed up today wearing those clothes.”

“When I got your owl, I thought about changing before using the portkey, but I was anxious to
see you, and didn’t want to wait.”

“I’m glad, I was about ready to pull my hair out.”

Hermione laughed. “I can see why. You’ve been working so hard, and keeping to yourself so much,
it’s a wonder you’re still sane.”

“You know, I was just thinking that same thing yesterday.” Harry chuckled. He sipped his drink,
and took the opportunity to scan the tables nearby for people he knew. He spotted a flash of
white-blonde hair, and turned quickly to Hermione. “I forgot to ask, but whatever became of
Malfoy?”

“What? Oh! He’s on the Hogwarts Board of Governors now.”

“Wow. How much trouble does he cause?”

“Surprisingly, he’s not that bad. He changed a lot after you spared his father’s life, and most
of it was for the better. Oh sure, he still likes to annoy on general principles, but he does back
up the Board’s decisions.”

“Sounds like you’ve been keeping tabs on him. Good girl, I knew you wouldn’t let me down.”

“I had to, just because he acted reformed didn’t mean that he was reformed. But this latest
development should be the clincher to his transformation.” Hermione leaned in close. “Want to hear
a secret?”

“Of course.”

Hermione looked around to make sure no one would hear what she had to say. “He’s been dating
Ginny, and she said he proposed.”

Harry’s eyes widened, and his eyebrows shot up. “You’re joking!”

“Nope, I got an owl from Ginny about a week ago, telling me everything.”

“Do her parents know?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “They’ve been dating in secret for the past six months, and
now they’re getting married.”

“Is she---?”

“I don’t think so, but maybe,” she said. “Wouldn’t that be adorable?”

“A blonde Weasley, or a redheaded Malfoy. Hmmm.” Harry thought for a moment, then his face split
in a wide grin. “I can just see the look on Lucius Malfoy’s face.”

Hermione giggled. “I can too.”

Harry was about to say more, but he noticed the waitress returning with their food.

“Ahh, here we go. Dinner salad with Italian Vinaigrette,” she said, setting down Hermione’s
plate. “And, dinner salad with Ranch.” She set down Harry’s plate. “Your entrée will be ready in a
few moments.” She hurried off again.

“Mmm, looks good,” he said. He started mixing his salad together.

Hermione watched Harry dig into his meal. “Hungry aren’t you?”

Harry nodded, his cheeks bulging with food. He chewed quickly, and swallowed hard. “Yeah, I’ve
missed having a variety. Soup and crackers gets old fast.” He stabbed his salad viciously, impaling
lettuce, cheese, and a cherry tomato on his fork’s tines. He looked at the pile of food on his fork
and frowned. “Wish I had a bigger fork.”

Hermione laughed, but kept her hands well away from his plate, lest she lose a finger or
two.

“Slow down Harry. We’ve plenty of time to enjoy our meal. No need for you to inhale it like
that.” Hermione chided.

“Sorry,” he said. He slowed down his almost frantic eating pace. “It’s just so GOOD!”

“Yes it is, and it’s even better when you taste it!”

This last comment came right as Harry was taking a drink, and he choked on his butterbeer. “That
wasn’t funny Hermione!” He said, coughing.

“Yes it was,” she snickered.

“Okay, it was funny, but I could’ve drowned!” Harry wailed.

This caused Hermione to burst out laughing. The mighty Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, the guy
that faced Voldemort without batting an eye, was whining about choking on his drink. Harry played
up the part, every inch the victim. “Oh sure, laugh at me. Some friend you are, I take you out to
dinner for my birthday, and you try to kill me as a present!

Hermione shrieked with laughter, and she held her aching sides. “St-st-stop Harry! I c-c-can’t
b-b-breathe!”

“You can dish it out, but you can’t take it!” Harry said, joining her in laughter. Hermione was
laughing so hard, all she could do was wave a hand, and hope he would stop.

Deciding that she had suffered enough, Harry got serious. “So tell me all about this thing with
Ron. I know you said you and he kind of dated, but that doesn’t tell me much.”

The abrupt change in topic caught Hermione off guard, and her laughter died immediately. “It’s
kind of hard to explain, but since it’s over I’ll give it a shot.”

“Hang on, here comes our dinner.” Harry said, spotting the waitress heading their way.

“Here you are, one Bruschetta Chicken,” the waitress said, placing their meals on the table,
“and one well done 16 oz. Sirloin with baked potato, no sour cream. Enjoy your meal, and don’t
hesitate to call if you need anything.”

“Thank you, we shall,” said Hermione.

Harry attacked his steak with the same ferocity he had shown the salad earlier. He sliced it
quickly into bite-sized chunks, and speared one on his knife tip. He ate it straight off the blade,
and sighed in obvious bliss. A huge contented smile lit his face as he chewed slowly, savoring the
first bite. “Delicious.”

Hermione ate slowly, “It isn’t often that I go out, but when I do, I like to enjoy every second
of it.” She took a sip of her drink, and watched Harry add butter to his now mashed up potato. “As
I was about to say,” she said. “In 4th year, I knew Ron was attracted to me, but not how
much. Then in 5th year, he started flirting with me. I wasn’t sure how to handle that,
so I pretended not to notice.” She took a bite of her chicken, and washed it down. “Problem was,
Ron thought I was playing hard to get, and increased his efforts.”

Harry looked up, “All this was going on, and he never even told me about it.”

“He was kind of weird there for a little while, and really made me nervous at times. The way he
would look at me, it just made my skin crawl every time he did it. For a short time, I was afraid
that Voldemort had somehow taken control of him, and was planning on using him in some way to get
at you through me,” she confided.

“That was always my biggest fear,” said Harry. “That one day he’d do something to one of you, or
worse, use one of you to hurt the other.”

“Well, you put an end to all that finally, so I’ll jump ahead a bit. This was when you were
doing all that secret training with Dumbledore. He’d ask me out every so often, but I was always
busy, so he’d stay and try to help me with whatever I was working on. But that usually ended up
with us fighting, and him storming off. This was our normal routine all the way to graduation. Then
you left with Sirius, and Ron started spending a lot more time with me. We’d hang out at my house,
or his, we went to some Quidditch matches but that was it.

“Then one night he tried to kiss me, and I pushed him away. I realized then, that he was more
than attracted to me. He wanted me, but I didn’t want him, not that way at least. I tried to
explain it to him, that he was moving way to fast, and he blew up at me. Accused me of teasing him
all through school, leading him on, and getting his hopes up. But I swear Harry, I never said or
did anything to make him think that. Then a few days later, he apologized and we went back to
hanging out again. Then, he got recruited by the Cannons, and went off to training camp. When he
came back for visits, you could see how proud he was of himself, and I admit I fawned over the
accomplishment, what with him being in your shadow for so long and all.

“Anyway, after that he was convinced that I belonged to him, and that’s when it got really bad.
He owled me constantly, sending me love notes, candy, and presents. Then he started showing up at
my house unannounced, and uninvited almost every Friday night, asking me to go to dinner, or the
theater. I tried to be gracious, but it just got so annoying.” Hermione paused, and took a few more
bites.

“I’m sure it did,” said Harry. “Having someone always bothering you like that.”

“Well, after everything that happened, I was in no mood to put up with more of his foolishness.
And that’s when he invited me to the dinner, it just so happened to be on the same night as my
mother’s award ceremony, and I decided to tell him why I wouldn’t be going with him in person. I
had hoped that he would take it better if I told him rather than owled him. However, that wasn’t
the case. I can’t tell you everything he said, because I quit listening after the first two minutes
of his ranting. He wouldn’t let me get a word in, and I finally had enough and went home. But I
told you this already.”

“I know, but now I understand a little better. I hate to say this, but I think he’s obsessed
with you.”

“It seems that way doesn’t it?” She sipped her drink. “Maybe when we get this thing with
Dumbledore sorted out, you could have a talk with him,” Hermione said hopefully.

“Yeah, I’ll do that.” Harry promised.

“Thanks.”

They ate in silence, until their meal was finished. Harry wiped his mouth, and checked his bowls
and plates for anything he might have missed.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” he said. He laid a handful of coins on the table, “This’ll take
care of the check and the tip. I’ll be right back”

Hermione nodded, and began counting the money while Harry made his way to the restrooms. When he
came out, he saw Hermione staring very hard at someone sitting in his chair, the look on her face
made him pause and he eased closer to hear the conversation.

“Why didn’t you tell me the truth!” an agitated male voice asked.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Because I don’t answer to you.”

“But you’re my girlfriend, you’re supposed to be with me!”

“I am **not** your girlfriend, and even if I was, I see it didn’t take you long to find a
date,” she said, looking to the side of the male voice. “Was she expensive?”

“Ronnie, are you going to let her talk to me like that?” said a peeved female voice.

“Hermione! Take that back!”

“Of course, that was rude of me,” Hermione said sweetly. “I’m sure she’s just another one of
your adoring fans.”

“This isn’t about me, it’s about you and what you’re doing here?”

“I’m having dinner silly, what does it look like?”

Harry heard something hit the table. “Yeah, but there are two plates here, and I’m sure you
don’t dress like that to go out with the girls, so who’s the jerk?”

“That’s none of your business. Now, if you’ll excuse me I really must be going,” she said,
getting up from the table. She started to walk away but a hand on her arm stopped her.

“We’re not finished yet! I asked you who he was, now tell me!”

Ron’s shouting caught the attention of everyone in the restaurant.

Hermione looked at the hand on her arm then into Ron’s eyes. “You’re causing a scene,” she said
coolly, “Please take your hand off me.”

Hermione tried to pull away, and winced when Ron’s grip tightened.

When Harry saw Hermione in pain, he moved quickly forward. Grabbing Ron by the shoulder, he
squeezed tightly and growled in a low dangerous voice. “Hands off the lady, bub.”

He took a step back as Ron spun quickly and threw a high right cross. Harry caught the fist
effortlessly, and through gritted teeth said, “Calm down.” He was about to say more when the
authorities arrived.

“What’s going on here?” the uniform demanded.

Harry started to explain, but was cut off by Ron. “I’m glad you’re here, this man was disturbing
my two fans here, and when I stepped in to stop him he assaulted me!”

“EXCUSE ME!” Hermione shouted, “That’s the biggest lie I’ve ever heard!” She gestured at the
nearby diners. “You can ask them what happened, they all saw it.”

The officer looked at the nearest patron. “Is that right? Did you see it?”

“Yes sir, officer, the young lady was having dinner with the dark haired chap, and this
redheaded fellow with the blonde appeared and started causing trouble.”

“Is that so? Well then, I’m going to have to ask all four of you to leave these premises.” He
pointed towards the exit. “After you.”

Harry grabbed Hermione’s cloak and slipped it around her shoulders, “We were just leaving
anyway.”

Ron stared hard at the officer as he walked by. “Do you know who I am?”

“No, and I don’t care, if you want to fight do it outside. Now leave!”

“Alright, I’m going, I’m going.”

Outside, Hermione took Harry’s hand and tugged him down the nearest alley where they hid in the
shadows. Harry leaned his head around the corner and waited for Ron to exit, he was inclined to go
back and teach his friend a lesson, only Hermione’s hands on his arm stopping him. He watched the
redhead stalk out dragging the blonde behind him with narrowed eyes. Ron looked right and left,
then he and his date Apparated with an audible “pop.”

Hermione tugged on his arm, getting his attention. “Harry can we go home now?” she asked
quietly.

Harry nodded, “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.”

They walked up the hill to the Shrieking Shack talking about their encounter with Ron. Harry was
appalled at the way Ron had acted towards Hermione.

“I can’t believe that was Ron. He’s so different from the last time I saw him.”

“Now you see what I’ve had to put up with.” She laid her head on his arm as they walked.

Harry looked down, but didn’t say anything. They continued to his place in silence. They crossed
the visibility boundary (a neat little spell he had concocted himself), and to anyone watching,
disappeared from sight.

They entered the shack through the secret entrance, and Harry hung up their cloaks. He turned to
Hermione. “Thank you for the wonderful time, I’m sorry that it got ruined.”

Hermione stared up at him, “It wasn’t your fault Harry. Even with the disturbance, I had a
wonderful evening with you.”

“Really?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said, “I had a lovely meal, some *interesting* conversation, and a floor
show.”

Harry grinned. “Me too. Could have done without the intrusion though,” he said. “After all that
excitement, I’m wired, there’s no way I can go to sleep now.”

“Harry,” Hermione frowned. “You were supposed to get some sleep. I’ll make you a sleeping
potion.”

“Nah, I’ll make some coffee. Why don’t you go change?” He gave her clothes a long look,
“Anything that looks that good can’t be comfortable.”

Hermione blushed at his compliment. “Thank you, and you’re right, these heels are killing me!”
She started to lean down to take off her shoes, but Harry beat her to it.

“Let me do that.” He unbuckled the straps around her ankles, lightly caressing her shapely legs
as he raised each one. He slid first one shoe off and then the other, keeping his gaze solidly on
the black leather objects in his hands. He stood back up and held them out to her. “Here you
go.”

Hermione took them, and looked up at Harry. With the shoes on, she had been level with his
mouth. Without them, she barely reached his chin. “Thank you.” She stared at his lips, and her deep
brown eyes grew darker. Harry felt himself getting lost in them.

“I’m-I’m going- uh-going to go make that coffee now.” He stuttered. The look in her eyes was
making it hard to think, let alone talk. He tried to back away, but she grabbed his shirt - front
and pulled him down for a quick kiss on the cheek. She whispered in his ear while he was bent
over.

“I’m not sure what’s going on between us Harry, but I like it. I hope you do too.”

Of their own accord, Harry’s arms came up and pulled her to him in a fierce hug. “I do like it,
and as much as I want to do more, something deep inside is telling me to wait,” he said.

“I understand,” she said quietly. “You’re not sure about how to handle this.”

“No! I know how I feel about this. I’m attracted to you Hermione. I want you more than I’ve ever
wanted anyone, but that’s not fair to you. You deserve so much more. I know what I’d like to do,
but there’s this voice telling me not to act on my impulses. And I’ve learned to listen to that
voice, it’s kept us safe numerous times.”

“Oh, then what do we do?”

Harry kissed the top of her head. “Let’s just have fun, but we can’t get physical. Not that I
thought you wanted to get physical or anything,” he said hastily. “That voice is telling me that I
can and should enjoy every aspect of your company, but it’s also telling me to keep my hands to
myself. It tears me up to say it, but I think we should heed it.”

Hermione smiled up at him, “Okay then, nothing physical. Not that you want to get physical with
me or anything,” she grinned.

He breathed a sigh of relief. “Deal, we can hug, hold hands, and maybe eventually kiss, but
nothing more than that.”

“Right, well I’m going to get out of these clothes, and into something a lot more comfortable.”
She broke the hug and walked down the stairs. She turned back to him before leaving. “I like you
Harry. I like you a lot. I’ve never felt this way about any guy except you. Is it love? I don’t
know, but I do want to find out.” She hurried downstairs.

Harry wasn’t really that surprised. He had realized he had similar feelings earlier when his
power had decided to take over. They never did that unless he was having very strong feelings about
the person he was with. The previous times had been out of anger, but with Hermione, it was
something different. He would just take it slow, and see where they ended up. The voice was telling
him that everything would turn out all right as long as he and Hermione didn’t have sex. Harry
hoped rather fervently that the voice would change it’s mind, and **SOON!** Shaking his head to
clear it, he went to the kitchen and set about making coffee. Leaving the coffee to percolate,
Harry decided that he might as well change clothes too. He was headed to his room when Hermione
came out dressed in dark blue vinyl shorts and a white t-shirt with her hair in a ponytail.

“I’m going to change real quick and then I’ll finish the coffee,” Harry said.

“That’s okay,” said Hermione. “I’ll do it.”

“Thanks,” said Harry, “I won’t be long.” He hurried to his room, and undressed quickly. He
grabbed a black t-shirt, and pajama bottoms from a drawer and pulled them on. He went to the
library, and found Hermione already there. She had two cups of coffee in front of her, and was busy
taking notes. She looked up when he entered.

“Harry! I’ve just discovered some very interesting information!”

He walked in and sat down on the couch close to her, “Oh yeah?”

“Yes.” She held up his notebook. “I was taking a look at your notes, and comparing them to some
I took while I was researching my book, and a number of rare or priceless books disappeared about
six hundred years ago.”

Harry took a sip of his coffee. “Yeah, so?”

Hermione smacked him on the shoulder with the notebook. “So you big dummy, all we have to do is
find out what happened six hundred years ago that might have caused these books to disappear.”

“Oh, is that all?” Harry asked sarcastically. “I thought it was going to be something hard.
Where are we going to find information like that?”

“There’s only one place that I can think of.” She said, picking up her coffee.

“You don’t mean?”

“Yes Harry. The Hogwarts library.”

“NOOOOoooooo!” Harry howled.

“Harry! What’s wrong?” Hermione asked, alarmed.

“No, no, no! It’s only been two years since the last time I was there!” He wailed, “In case you
forgot, we were there for four straight days! It’s only been two years, that’s one year per day!
I’ve got two more years to go before that memory will be erased.”

“Now Harry. That’s no way to be.” Hermione chided.

“It’s not fair! I’ve spent the past three months buried in books, and I did it without
complaining. Now you want me to go to the *Library*?”

“Harry.”

“I know. I know, but it’s going to take forever, and that’s **with** the speed-reading spell
we’ve been using.”

“Harry.”

“Oh alright! I’ll go!”

“Harry.”

Harry rolled his eyes, “And I won’t complain.”

Hermione smiled brightly. “Good, that’s what I wanted to hear.” She patted Harry on the arm.
“It’ll be alright.”

“Thanks. At least I won’t have to do it alone anymore.” He yawned mightily. “Whoa. Where’d that
come from?”

“Looks like that adrenaline rush you were on is fading. You’d better go to bed, I’ll take care
of this.”

Harry’s eyes blurred, and he rubbed them. “I think-think that’s a good idea.” He wandered out of
the study, and stumbled into his bedroom. His eyes closing, Harry flopped on top of his bed and was
immediately asleep.

TBC



2. Chapter 2
------------

**Title:** Harry Potter and The Panacea – Chapter 02
**Author name:** Falcon
**Author email:** falcun_21@yahoo.com
**Category:** Schnoogle
**Sub Category:** Action/Adventure, Romance, Humor
**Keywords:** H/Hr
**Rating:** R
**Summary:** Two years have gone by since the end of Harry’s final year. Voldemort is dead.
Harry has withdrawn from the wizarding society after defeating Voldemort and graduation from
Hogwarts, but still keeps in contact with Ron & Hermione through owl post and occasional
visits. Ron is a Chudley Cannon. Hermione has been working at Hogwarts since their final year with
all the Professors. Sirius has been acquitted of all charges against him and is the Transfiguration
Professor. Professor McGonagall is the new Headmistress replacing an ill Headmaster Dumbledore and
Flitwick is the Deputy Headmaster. Lupin is reinstated as the DADA Professor after Moody’s
retirement.

**Disclaimer**: All characters belong to JKR, and I ain’t making no money off them. This
story is made up of my own original ideas, and any resemblance to anyone else’s is strictly
coincidental, and unintentional.
**Chapter 2**

Harry awoke the next morning at 6 a.m. He tried to roll over and go back to sleep, but he
reminded himself that he had work to do. He threw off the covers, and vaguely wondered when he had
gotten under them. Harry stood up and stumbled into the bathroom. He turned on the shower, and let
the water get hot while he attended to other matters. He stripped bare, hopped in the shower, and
closed the clear glass door. His eyes were closed, and his head was leant forward against the wall,
as the hot water coursed down his lean, muscular body. Harry was on autopilot, his body was awake
but his mind wasn’t. If it had been, then he would have remembered that he was no longer alone in
the house, and he would have remembered to lock the door. As it were, he had just put shampoo in
his hair, and was scrubbing his body, trying hard to ignore how his body responded to the slightest
touch, when the door opened and Hermione walked in.

Harry didn’t even notice that she was standing in the doorway staring, until he turned around to
put back the soap.

“Yaaaaahhhhh! HERMIONE!”

Hermione’s eyes were very wide, and she stared at him. “I-I-I-I am s-s-s-soooooo sorrrrry!” she
stammered, but made no move to leave.

“HERMIONE! GO!” Harry yelled, and tried to cover himself, but that just drew her attention, and
her eyes grew wider. He could have swore that he heard her mutter “Wow,” but maybe he had gotten
soap in his ears, and if she had said it, she didn’t repeat it.

“Sorry Harry,” she blushed crimson, and bolted from the room.

Harry slammed the door with a wave of his hand, and looked down at his body. “Thanks a lot,” he
muttered. He grabbed the shaving cream, and lathered his face. He harbored the faint hope that he’d
slip and cut his throat while shaving, so he wouldn’t have to face her. His hopes were dashed, when
all he achieved was a slight nick on the point of his chin. He wrapped a towel around himself,
grabbed his night - clothes and went back to his room. Harry hurled his sleeping attire on the bed,
grabbed clean clothes from his dresser and closet, and got dressed.

He went to the kitchen to find that Hermione had already made coffee. He fixed two cups and went
to his study. Harry found Hermione there with her nose buried in a huge book. She blushed when he
sat down beside her.

“Morning Hermione. Sleep well?”

Hermione’s blush grew brighter. “Actually no, I didn’t. I had a weird dream that I saw you naked
in the shower, and I couldn’t look away.” She giggled nervously, “I know it was a dream, because
it’s way to soon in our relationship for me to see you naked, I mean that just shoots down our
agreement.”

“Hermione.”

“Yes?”

“You’re babbling.”

“Oh, sorry. It’s just that-.”

Harry put his finger to her lips. “Shhhh. It’s alright. We’re even now. I used to watch you, now
you’ve seen me.”

“Bu-but.”

“I’m serious, it’s no big deal,” he said. “In fact, I think its good that you saw me. Now we’re
on equal footing, and can really start our relationship anew.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Harry smiled. He put his arm around her and squeezed. “Plus, now we both have something
to look forward to,” he said, grinning wickedly.

“HARRY!”

“What? It’s true,” he wriggled his eyebrows.

“I’m sure,” She giggled. “If you did happen to see me naked, you might be surprised. I’ve
changed some things since graduation, and not everything is like it was,” she hinted.

It was Harry’s turn to gasp, as his mind automatically leaped to conclusions.

“Well uhm.” He was at a loss for words. “Hermione, I did not need to know that.”

Hermione smiled. “I know. Makes you wonder doesn’t it?”

“Yes it does.” Harry said through gritted teeth.

“Well then, I guess I’ll have to double-check the bathroom door when I take a shower won’t I?”
she smirked.

“Speaking of locking the door, didn’t you hear the shower running? Why’d you just walk in?”

“I was half asleep, and it didn’t register.”

“Uh huh.”

“It’s true!”

“I’ll bet.” He said. Harry started to say something else, but the look in her eyes told him that
he’d regret it. Unable to resist though, and more than a little curious, he pressed on. “So, like
what you saw?”

Hermione gaped and turned various shades of red. “HAROLD JAMES POTTER!”

“You know that’s not my name Hermione,” he smiled. “C’mon, you can be honest with me.”

“The only thing I’ll say is that I’m glad you shaved. Other than that--use your imagination,”
she smiled slyly. “Now, when do you want to make that trip to Hogwarts?”

“Nice evasion of the question,” Harry smiled. “But to answer your question, anytime is fine with
me.”

“Good, then we should go as soon as possible.” She stood up, “I’m going to go get dressed. You
gather the notebooks.”

“Alright.” Harry said as she walked off. He set about his task, and when he finished, he settled
down with his coffee. His cup was almost empty by the time she returned. He grabbed her bag, and
stood up. “Ready?”

“How are we getting there? I meant to ask earlier, but it slipped my mind.”

“I’m going to Apparate us--.” He held up a hand to forestall Hermione’s protest. “Yes, I know we
can’t Apparate on Hogwarts’ grounds, but I can Apparate us into the Hogsmeade tunnel right before
it enters the grounds.”

“Oh,” she frowned. “You said Apparate **US**? Harry, a Witch or Wizard can only Apparate
themselves, not another person.”

Harry looked a bit uncomfortable. “I can.”

“You can? When did you find this out?”

“It’s a funny story actually. When Sirius and I were in Rome, he met a woman, an incredibly
beautiful, and wealthy woman. They went out every night, parties, Balls, dinners. You name it.
Well, Sirius being the man that he is, he was staying with her at her house. We were unaware that
this woman was married, and to a very powerful and dangerous man. I was out early one morning, and
I overheard someone mention the Brit staying with the “Countess.” That wasn’t her title, just a
nickname that she was known by.” He explained.

“Anyway, the Brit comment caught my attention, so I listened closely. It seemed that the “Count”
had heard his wife was dallying with another man, and he wanted him dead. The two men talking were
to tell the “Countess” bodyguards to kill the man. I waited until they left, then used the portkey
I had given Sirius to lock onto his location. He and the “Countess” were still asleep, and boy was
I relieved to see that he was at least wearing his underwear! She was completely nude, and I admit
I found myself staring so long that I kind of lost track of time,” Harry admitted the last part
with a sheepish grin.

Hermione frowned. “I take it that you liked what you saw.”

“Oh yeah,” Harry’s eyes took on a far away look. “Exquisite,” he whispered.

“As you were saying,” she said, with a hint of annoyance.

“Wha-OH!” he said. “Where was I? Oh yeah! I was about to wake him, when I heard footsteps on the
stairs. With no time to think, I grabbed his clothes, and his hand and basically willed us back to
my hotel room. I was very surprised to see that it worked. I put him on the bed, then woke him up
and explained everything. He decided that he had had enough of Rome, and suggested we go someplace
else. Quickly. “

“I’ll bet.” Said Hermione dryly. “Did that happen often? Sirius meeting some woman and staying
with her I mean.”

“Yeah, I was surprised, but it seems that when he was on the run he survived by meeting women
and staying with them. I watched him work, and the man is the MASTER. He had women giving him their
phone numbers, addresses, room numbers and heck, I even saw one woman wriggle out of her panties,
write on them and stick them in his coat pocket. AND, this was only ten minutes after meeting
him!”

“Wow!” Hermione said, amazed. “I can see their point though. He is charming, very handsome, and
incredibly sexy.”

“I knew you were going to say that. Every woman we met said that.”

“Hmm. I wonder if I should be offended that he’s never came on to me?”

“HERMIONE!”

“What?”

“He-he-he’s 42!”

“Yes, but he doesn’t look a day over 32, and that’s only 13 years older than me. I’m well within
his age range, why doesn’t he show me the same attention he shows Athena?”

“Athena?”

“The new Arithmacy teacher Athena McGonagall. She’s Minerva McGonagall’s youngest step-sister.”
Hermione explained. “She’s taller than me, with glossy black hair and large chest.”

“How large?”

“At least 38D.”

“That’s definitely his type,” Harry said. “I saw all kinds of women come on to him, but the only
ones he targeted specifically were dark haired and buxom.”

“Still, I find it odd that he flirts with every woman he sees, except me.”

“Hermione, believe me, he **noticed** you.”

“Then why doesn’t he flirt with me? I’m not saying I want a relationship with him or anything,
but when I see him flirt with every attractive woman except me, it’s insulting.” Hermione frowned.
“It’s not that I want him coming on to me or anything, but at least a compliment every now and
again would be nice.”

“Hermione, I asked him to behave around you.”

“Why?” she asked.

Harry rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, he’s very experienced with women, and knows how to get
what he wants. It’s conceivable that if he flirted with you, you might take it to mean more than he
meant, and offer something he wasn’t trying to get. Now here’s the problem, if you offered, he
would take it. I’ve learned this much over the past few years, Sirius does not turn down a willing
woman.”

“Oh. Do you think Athena is just a passing fancy then?”

“I couldn’t say. I’d have to see them together to tell.” Harry said. “Now, ready to go?”

“Sure, I’ll meet you there.”

“Whoa!” Harry said quickly. “You can’t Apparate there.”

“Of course I can,” said Hermione.

“No, I put up spells to stop anyone from entering the tunnels.”

“Oh. What do I do then?”

“Put your arms around me, close your eyes and hold on tight. The wards won’t harm you if you’re
as close as possible to me.”

Hermione’s eyes widened. “Wards? Harry, those are very dangerous. I hope you were careful when
you set them up.”

“I was. They won’t harm anyone coming through the tunnels, but they will prevent entrance into
the tunnels. If someone other than me tries to Apparate into the tunnels, the wards will hurl that
person thousands of miles away. I set the ward up kind of like a portkey, but it’s only activated
by the energy of Apparation.”

“Ahhh. Very clever.”

“I got the idea from something you said in 7th year. You mentioned that with Dumbledore’s power,
he should fix the spells that keep people from Apparating onto Hogwarts’ grounds so that they repel
those with evil intent. Or something like that, it’s been a while and I just remembered the basic
idea.”

“That’s close enough,” said Hermione. She wrapped her arms around Harry’s middle and buried her
head in his chest. “Ready when you are.”

Harry took a deep breath, inhaling her scent. “Okay, here we go.” He wrapped both arms around
her, and they disappeared. Unlike regular Apparation, Harry didn’t make an audible “pop” when he
Apparated.

Harry kept a close eye on Hermione during the trip. He had never tried to transport anyone
through his barriers before, but theoretically it should work. He released her as soon as they
arrived. He grabbed her face and stared into her eyes.

“Are you okay? Everything feel normal?”

“That was different.” Hermione said breathlessly. Her face was flushed, and her breathing was
heavy. “What was that Harry? That didn’t feel like normal Apparation.”

“Technically, it wasn’t Apparation. It was more of a teleportation mixed with Apparation
combined with a portkey effect,” he explained. “Takes some getting used to.”

“I’ll say! I feel tingly all over.”

“It’ll pass in a few minutes.” He put an arm around her waist to steady her. “Just lean on me
till it passes.”

Hermione looked around while her body recovered. “When did you add all the torches?”

“Months ago.” He said, “I nearly took the top of my head off on a low spot, and after that I
decided it was too dangerous to go through the tunnels without light of some sort.”

“Ouch. I bet that hurt,” she said.

Harry rubbed the top of his head in memory. “It put me on the floor.”

“Oh poor baby,” teased Hermione. “I’m feeling better, we can go now.”

“Okay.” They continued on their way. Harry kept his arm around her waist and an eye on her even
though she claimed that everything felt normal again. He was very worried about any possible side
effects. “You let me know if anything feels different in any way.”

“Harry, I’m fine.” She insisted. “But I’ll be sure to let you know if I feel anything out of the
ordinary. Okay?”

“Yeah. Okay,” he reluctantly agreed. They reached the end of the tunnel, and she discovered that
he had changed the chute into stairs. They climbed to the top, and Harry opened the secret entrance
inside the witch’s hump. Harry hopped out first, then reached back and gave Hermione a hand.

They were headed for the library when Hermione snapped her fingers. “I need to go tell
McGonagall that we’re here and that we’ll be using the library.”

“You want me to come with you?”

“That’s okay, you go head without me.” She started to turn away, but suddenly she spun and gave
him a quick kiss on the cheek. “See ya there.” Hermione took off down a side corridor, leaving
Harry standing in the hallway rubbing his cheek.

“Uh…Okay,” said Harry. He continued to the library, wondering how long it would take Hermione to
talk to the Headmistress. He entered the library, and looked around for Madam Pince. Not finding
her at her desk, he searched the room. He heard a stifled giggle as he passed the Restricted
Section. Harry stopped dead in his tracks. Curiosity pushed manners aside, and he peeked in.

Lying on the floor, his pants around his ankles, was Sirius Black. Luckily, Black’s lower body
was covered by the half - dressed woman lying on top of him. Harry quickly averted his eyes, and
cleared his throat. Both people jumped guiltily, and hurriedly arranged their clothing. “Harry!
What are you doing here?” Sirius asked, once he’d sorted himself out

“I could ask you the same thing,” said Harry, looking pointedly at the flushed young woman.

Sirius Black did something then that was completely out of character for him. He blushed.
“Uh…yeah, about that. I’d really appreciate it if you kept this between us.” He scratched his head.
“I mean…If this got out, we could…we could be in big trouble.”

Harry snickered. “Is there any other kind when you’re around?”

Black frowned. “Dammit Harry! Will you be serious!”

“I can’t be Sirius, you’re Sirius.” said Harry, somehow managing to keep a straight face.

“Blast it Harry! Stop doing that!” Sirius said through clenched teeth. “Now is not the
time.”

“Sorry, could resist.”

“I know, I know. Could you please put a sock in it though?”

“Yeah, okay, I won’t tell anyone,” he thought a moment, “well, except Hermione.”

“NO! Harry, you can’t tell her of all people! She’ll run to McGonagall, you know she will.”

“Nah, she’s lightened up a lot. She won’t care that you were shagging in the library.” He
paused. “Actually, she’d probably think it was sacrilegious, so maybe I won’t tell her.”

“Good man Harry.” Sirius said. “Oh! I forgot to introduce you to my fiancée Athena
McGonagall.”

“Your fiancée? When did this happen?”

Sirius blushed again. “Few minutes ago,” he mumbled.

“Ahhh, that’s why you were—.”

“Uh…yeah.”

“I got ya.” Harry turned to the lady. “Nice to meet you ma’am.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” said Athena.

Sirius choked at her words, and Harry coughed to cover a laugh. Athena appeared oblivious to the
byplay, and attempted some small talk.

“So Harry, what brings you to Hogwarts?” she asked.

“I’m helping Hermione do some research.”

Sirius perked up. “Really? Over what?”

“She’s been asked to write a revised edition of Hogwarts: A History.”

Black’s eyebrows shot up and Athena gasped. “Wow! I’m impressed!” he said. Athena simply nodded
in agreement. “Although I’m not really surprised, she is brilliant after all.”

“Yes, she is.” Harry said, with just a hint of a smile.

Sirius’ eagle eyes caught it however, and he looked hard at his godson. “Whoa, what’s with the
grin?”

“Grin? What grin?” Harry asked, turning red.

“Ah ha! What’s going on with you and Hermione?”

“Nothing. What makes you think something is going on?”

“Harry. I know that look.” Said Sirius knowingly. “Something is up with you and Hermione.”

Harry’s blush intensified, and he scuffed the floor with his boot tip. “It’s nothing, we’re just
talking about dating. No big deal.”

“Uh huh. C’mon Harry, you can tell me,” Sirius grinned.

“I’d rather not talk about it right now.” Harry said, cutting his eyes towards Athena.

“Oh. Okay, Be sure and let me know if you need help with your research.”

“Sure thing Sirius.” Harry started to turn away, but stopped halfway. “Oh, Sirius. I wanted to
thank you for the present. I haven’t had a chance to go look at it yet, and it will probably be a
while until I do.”

“That’s okay Harry. It shouldn’t be rushed, take your time.” He looked at his watch, then at
Athena. “We’d like to stay and talk more Harry, but we have brunch scheduled with Minerva.
Later.”

“Later Sirius.” Harry turned to Athena, then, as Sirius had instructed him during their travels,
he bowed. “It was a pleasure to meet you.” He grinned suddenly. “Welcome to the family!”

“Thank you,” Athena smiled. She took Sirius arm, and led him away.

Harry watched them leave. He turned back to the Restricted Section, waved his hand, and all
traces of their indiscretion disappeared. He went to the History section and started grabbing books
that dealt with the past thousand years. There sure were a lot of them too. He walked through the
history section placing spells on the most likely ones. As he passed them, they flew off the
shelves and lined up behind him. Harry had amassed an incredible amount of reading material by the
time Hermione joined him.

She stopped dead when she saw the mountain range of books stacked as high as her head.

Harry was buried deep in the center of the pile. He heard Hermione muttering as she studied the
labyrinth.

“Harry, are you in there?”

He stood up and looked over the tops of the books. “Here I am.”

Hermione circled the pile. “How do I get in there?”

Harry smacked his forehead. “Hang on, I’ll get you.”

“How?”

“Just relax, close your eyes and trust me,” Harry said. He watched Hermione follow his
instructions. He raised his hand, and she rose slowly off the floor. When her feet were level with
his eyes, she floated over the wall of books and to him. Harry gently lowered her to his side, and
told her to open her eyes.

Hermione looked around. “Wow, this is a lot of books.”

“Yeah,” said Harry. He sat back down and resumed reading.

Hermione grabbed the closest book, seated herself across from him and started reading as
well.

Harry looked up from his book a few minutes later. “Hermione. What took so long with
McGonagall?”

Hermione set her book aside. “I had to tell her that you were here with me, and that it was a
secret. She told me that the library was at our disposal, and if we needed any help to just ask.
That led to a discussion about how my book was coming, and whether or not I could teach a few
classes this semester. I told her no, because our research would be taking up almost all of our
time.”

“Ahhhhh,” said Harry, and went back to reading.

They read continuously, only stopping to take notes. Minutes turned into hours, and Harry’s
stomach alerted him to the fact that it was time to eat. He checked his watch and was surprised to
see that they had worked well past lunch, and it was close to four o’clock in the afternoon.

“You ready to knock off for the day Hermione?”

“Yeah, let me finish writing these notes, and I’ll be ready to go.” Hermione scribbled furiously
in her notebook for a few seconds, closed it and stood up. “Okay, I’m ready,” she said, stuffing
the spiral into her bag. “But what about this mess?”

“No problem, I’ll take care of it,” Harry said. He blew on his fingertips then made a lifting
motion with his hands. The piles of books rose from their places, and attached themselves to the
ceiling.

“That’s one way to do it I suppose. But what if Madam Pince comes in, isn’t she going to see
them up there?”

“Hermione, after growing up around you, do you honestly think I haven’t thought of that? I used
a personalized invisibility spell, and only you and I can see them.”

“Of course, I should have known better. Now, let’s get out of here and head home.”

They left the library, and went to the humpbacked witch. Harry opened the secret entrance, and
helped Hermione inside.

“Home. It has such a nice sound to it.” Harry said quietly, as he closed the witch and followed
Hermione down the stairs.

“What was that Harry?”

“Nothing. Just talking to myself,” Harry said, as he caught up with her. “Any ideas on what we
can do tonight?”

“A few. We can go over our notes and see if anything stands out. I know how much you love
correlating data.” Said Hermione with a grin.

“I’m going to pretend that I didn’t hear that.”

Hermione laughed softly, and Harry was struck by the musical quality of her voice. For a moment,
he fought the urge to drape his arm across her shoulders, but then he gave in. She jumped slightly
at his touch, then relaxed and snuggled into his side. They walked in silence back to the
Apparating point. Harry transported them back to his house, and they separated, he to the kitchen
for a snack, and she to the bathroom. He gathered some crackers, cheese, and a couple of bottles of
soda and went to the study. He set down the food, deposited himself in his chair, and was getting
ready to eat when Hermione walked in.

“Harry!”

“Huh?” Harry looked up with a cheese cracker poised half way to his mouth.

“Don’t you dare ruin your dinner!”

“I was just going to have a quick snack.” Harry said, “I’m starving.”

“No! I’m going to make spaghetti, and I don’t want you ruining your appetite. Now put those
away.”

Harry frowned, but did as she said. Hermione followed him to the kitchen. He returned the cheese
and crackers to the refrigerator, but while his back was turned, he popped a chunk of cheese into
his mouth.

“I saw that!”

“Damn.” He muttered through a mouthful of cheese. He swallowed, and turned back to Hermione, a
big grin lighting his face. “When did you get X-Ray vision?”

Hermione snorted, “What X-Ray vision? I just know you Harry.”

“Yeah, I keep forgetting that.” He said. “What was that about spaghetti?”

“I’m going to make spaghetti for dinner. Would you like to help?”

“Sure! Just tell me what to do.”

“Okay, first tell me that you have all the ingredients. If not, we have to go to the
market.”

Harry looked in the cupboards, dragging out various materials. Hermione looked over the
items.

“Hmm… Pasta, ground meat, bread, butter, and garlic salt.” She frowned, “ no spaghetti sauce. I
don’t suppose you have any tomatoes or tomato sauce either.”

Harry burrowed even further into the cabinets until only his legs were sticking out. “Nope,” he
called back. “No tomato sauce in here.”

“Guess it’s a trip to the market then,” she said. “You want to come with me, or stay here?”

“I’ll stay here and get things started. Besides, I don’t know what you need.” He said,
scratching his head.

“Oh, okay.” Hermione raised her wand, and summoned her purse. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
She disappeared with the customary “pop.”

Harry set about getting dinner started. He smeared butter on the bread and sprinkled garlic salt
over it. Breaking the noodles, he set them in a pot to boil, and put the meat in hot water to
defrost. He wanted it warm enough that by the time Hermione got back it would be ready to cook.
Giving everything a quick glance assured him that the only thing left for him to do was to set the
table. Grabbing two plates, silverware, and napkins, he set their places. Harry set the garlic
bread on a tray, and slid it into the oven. He set the temperature at 200 degrees, and seated
himself at the bar.

It wasn’t long before boredom overtook him, and he was looking for something else to do. Reading
was out of the question, he had done far to much of that lately. His eyes fell on a large butcher
knife, and he picked it up. He tossed it into the air, and deftly caught it by the blade. He
balanced it on its tip in the center of his palm, and held it there with his mind. Harry moved his
hand from under the utensil and caused it to spin rapidly. He called another equally large knife
from a drawer and set it to spinning in the opposite direction. His eyes narrowed, and he spun the
blades even faster. They were spinning at such a rate that they had become invisible. He eyed them
for a moment, judging speed, distance, and rotation. Quick as a blink, he reached out and caught
both by their handles. The knives spun through his fingers, into the air, and right back into his
waiting hands. It was a disturbing way to pass the time, but since he was Harry Potter, he was
allowed to do disturbing things. He hadn’t been playing long when his attention wavered and he
dropped one of the knives. He tried to regain his concentration, but it was no use. He hurled the
knives into a cutting board hanging above the sink, got up and went to the bathroom.

Harry leaned on the sink and stared at his reflection in the mirror. His mind was a jumble and
he found it hard to concentrate. His thoughts kept settling on Hermione, and how right it felt to
have her by his side again. Thinking about her got parlayed into thinking about their quest, which
led to thoughts of Dumbledore’s illness and its cause. He felt so guilty about not telling Hermione
the truth, but he was afraid of how she would react. Only three people knew what really happened
that night, and two of them weren’t talking. And once again, what was meant for him had happened to
someone he cared about. What made it worse, was that this time it really was his fault. He decided
that since Hermione had dropped everything she was doing to help him, then the least he could do
was level with her and hope she didn’t overreact.

Harry’s eyes settled on the little bit of his scar that was visible under his hair. The constant
reminder of what it meant to be Harry Potter. He pulled his hair back from his face and studied it.
As he had aged, so had his scar, it was faded and didn’t stand out from his tan skin like it had
when he was younger. It was still noticeable, but combing his hair to the right so that it fell
over his right eye concealed it perfectly. He shook his head, clearing it of all disturbing
thoughts and went back to the kitchen. He walked in just as Hermione got back. Fortunately he
stopped before he walked right into her apparation point. As it was, he got there in time to pluck
the bag from her hand as soon as she arrived.

“Allow me to take that.” Harry said.

Hermione brushed her hair back from where it had come undone from her ponytail. “Thanks Harry.”
She looked around. “You’ve been busy.”

Harry emptied the bag. “You get everything you needed?”

“Yes.” Hermione started adjusting the stove’s settings. “I see the noodles are almost done. She
turned the heat down a little more before giving the ground meat her attention.

Harry wanted to say something, do something to help, but the sight of her puttering around the
kitchen preparing dinner struck a chord deep within him and he had to resist the urge to walk up
and wrap his arms around her. He settled for staring at her, his gaze traveling up and down her
body while she worked. Without warning, he found himself imagining what it would be like to caress
her while she cooked. His eyes narrowed and his mouth grew dry. In order to keep his thoughts
clean, he started talking, and he didn’t care what he said.

“I ran into Sirius and Athena today.”

“You did?” said Hermione stirring the meat in a pan. “What’s the verdict? They serious or
not?”

Harry snorted laughter. “Oh they’re serious alright.”

“Really? It’s about time.” She poured the spaghetti sauce into the pan with the meat. “Where’d
you run into them at?”

“Library.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Hermione I need to tell you something, and I want
you to promise me that you’ll try not to overreact.”

Hermione wiped her hands on a dish - towel and turned to face him. “This doesn’t sound
good.”

Harry cleared his throat. “I’m the reason Dumbledore is dying.”

“Harry! We’ve been through all this before. Anytime someone gets hurt protecting you, you go on
one of your patented guilt trips. When are you going to realize that the people that defend you do
so of their own free will? It’s not like you made Voldemort’s spell hit him!”

Harry grimaced, “Actually, I kind of did.”

Hermione’s eyes widened. “What?” She folded her arms across her chest. “I think you had better
explain.”

“Okay. When I told you that I was close enough to hear the curse, I was only telling half the
truth.” He winced in anticipation, but she did nothing but narrow her eyes. “The curse was meant
for me. Voldemort fired it at me and I swung Excalibur to intercept it. The sword’s blade sent it
back the way it came and Voldemort dodged. Dumbledore didn’t. It hit him full on, and he screamed.
Voldemort watched him crumple, and his distraction allowed me to get close enough to attack. I
waited for him to turn around, and when he did I impaled him with the sword.” Harry took a deep
breath before continuing. “I was face to face with him, our eyes locked. He tried to speak, but all
that came out was blood bubbles. I twisted the blade and his eyes bulged. Somehow, he managed to
croak out a prophecy. He said that in the days of my quest, a child would be born that would be his
gateway back to the realm of the living. I told him I would save Dumbledore, and that I was sending
**him** to Hell. I yanked the sword from his chest, spun and took off his head.” He paused to
look at Hermione. She stood there with her mouth hanging open. “Anyway, I just wanted you to know
the whole story.”

Hermione stared at him for a long moment, not saying anything. “I’m glad you decided to tell
me,” she said finally. “Just because you hit the curse back at Voldemort and it hit Dumbledore
instead does not make it your fault. You couldn’t have known that it was going to hit
Dumbledore.”

“That’s just it Hermione! I shouldn’t have intercepted the curse.”

“But it would have hit you, and then you’d be the one dying.”

“No! You don’t understand. The curse wouldn’t have affected me.”

“Harry, what are you talking about?”

“Hermione, I was wearing the scabbard! I was protected!”

“Whoa Harry! I think you’d better start from the beginning.”

“Do you remember telling me that Excalibur was embedded in a stone in the cemetery, and that it
was disguised as a cross?”

“Yes.”

“Well, you were right. I never saw so many crosses in my life. I thought I’d never find the
right one. Fortunately, I spotted one cross that seemed slightly out of proportion and I touched
it. The illusion vanished, and in my hand was Excalibur. I started towards the area where
Dumbledore and Voldemort were fighting, but the sword wouldn’t let me move. Then out of nowhere, I
hear a voice in my head. It told me to look at the top of the boulder. I did, and there was a
scabbard and harness. I picked it up and the voice told me to put it on. I did as it instructed,
and it said that as long as I wore it, nothing could harm me.”

“That’s incredible!”

“Yeah.” Harry said bitterly. “I should have listened, instead of trying to get Voldemort with
his own spell. I should have let it hit me, shown him that his magic was useless against me, then
killed him. Now, because of me Dumbledore is dying!”

“Harry, calm down. I’m sure Dumbledore doesn’t blame you.”

“No, he doesn’t. But he should! I blame me, so should he! So should you!” Harry scrubbed his
face with his hands. “But he’s not, and neither are you.”

“No, I’m not angry, but keeping secrets is no way to start a relationship. Is there anything
else I need to know? Anything you’d like to tell me?”

“Well, I thought I’d tell you about my travels over dinner, and if I think of anything else I’ll
be sure and let you know.

“Thank you.” Hermione stepped closer and looked up into his eyes. “Harry, all I ask is that you
keep me informed about what’s going on in that head of yours.” She poked him in the forehead as she
said the last bit. “I can’t help you deal with things if I don’t know what it is you’re dealing
with.”

Harry took her hand and brought it to his lips. He placed a light kiss to her fingers. “Thank
you for understanding.”

Hermione nodded. “I’m going to need that back if you want dinner tonight.” She said, gently
tugging her hand free.

“What? Oh! Of course.” Harry blushed. “Now that I’ve made a complete ass of myself, I think I
better leave you now.” He didn’t give her the chance to say anything else, and bolted from the
room.

Harry ended up in the living room, and found himself staring at the object he had just finished
discussing. He walked over and laid his hand on the hilt. Immediately, Excalibur awoke.

*“Master?”* Said the voice in Harry’s head. This time, the voice wasn’t so masculine, and
it wavered as it spoke. Harry knelt down and rested his hands on the pommel. He closed his eyes,
and suddenly he was resting under a huge tree, next to a tranquil lake. *“You are troubled.”*
The voice came from the lake, and as it spoke a beautiful young woman arose from the azure waters.
She looked exactly like Hermione.

“Yes Callie. I am troubled.” Harry said. He stood up and wrapped his cape around the nude
girl.

*“Tell me what troubles you master.”*

“It’s Hermione. I have this very strong instinct telling me not to become intimate with her just
yet. But I have an even stronger instinct that wants me to go ahead.” They were having this
conversation telepathically, so anybody watching wouldn’t think Harry was talking to himself.

*“Master, it has been my experience from observing those I’ve known that when a basic instinct
is in conflict with any other instinct, it is best to ignore the more primal one. Something deep
inside you warns that to become intimate would be dangerous, so you must heed that
feeling.”*

“Not dangerous Callie, disastrous.”

*“You are a strong warrior and the most powerful sorcerer that I have ever encountered. You
will do what is right.”*

“How can you trust me so completely? You never did before.”

*“I have touched her. She who’s form I took from your mind the first night we met, and she
trusts you implicitly. How can I do less?”* The Hermione look alike smiled.

“Thank you Callie. You’ve helped a lot. I also wanted to thank you for not appearing to her like
this.” He indicated her nakedness.

*“I could not even if I had wanted to. It would have been far too traumatic for her to meet me
like this. When I am touched, I take the face of that person’s special someone. In this manner, I
won’t upset the person too much when I communicate with him. It also enhances the bond between the
two of us.”*

“Yeah well, thanks for at least getting dressed for her.”

*“I took the form she was thinking about. You, as you were a day ago.”* Callie cracked a
devilish grin. *“Her mind is a much cleaner place than yours is.”*

“Hey! I’m not that bad.”

*“I know, I’m teasing. As I told you once before, I was created by the Lady of The Lake. It
was she that first gave me form, and my natural form mirrors hers. The Lady never wore clothes, and
neither do I when I take female form. I can’t. The first male I met was Merlin, then Uther of
Pendragon and then Great Arthur himself, and now you. I appeared to them in The Lady’s form, but
you had a special someone even though you weren’t aware of it yet, and that was Hermione. She was
the first female that had ever touched me other than The Lady, and I sensed that you were her
special someone. I couldn’t very well appear to her in your nude form now could I?”*

“No, and I thank you for that.” Harry laughed. An idea struck him suddenly, and before he could
stop himself, he blurted out a question. “Callie, the first time we fought together, I used you to
intercept a spell. Did you recognize it?”

Callie shuddered and pulled the cape tighter around her. *“I did indeed. It was the most
terrible of curses. The Mortificare Deteriorare: The Wasting Death. A curse so horrible that not
even Merlin himself would dare to use it.”*

Harry was shocked. All this time, he had someone that knew all about the curse that was ailing
Dumbledore right under his nose and he hadn’t even thought to ask her. “Why? Why was Merlin afraid
to use it?”

*“The Wasting Death does not kill outright. It causes the body to waste away, the senses to
stop working, the flesh to rot, the muscles to wither, the…”*

Harry held up a hand to stop her, his face turning slightly green. “I don’t need the list of
symptoms Callie. Tell me more about the curse itself.”

*“The spell was old, very old even in Merlin’s time. It was feared more than all the
Unforgivable Curses combined. The Imperio Curse happened on a daily basis, The Cruciatus Curse was
a means of interrogation, The Killing Curse was used in battle constantly. But no one dared use the
Wasting Death. It had the bad habit of rebounding onto the caster. One had to have incredible power
and hatred to even attempt the spell. When I felt the power behind that curse aimed at you, I
feared for your safety. Even though you wore my scabbard, and used me to intercept it, I wasn’t
sure you would come from the encounter unharmed. Never have I felt such power! It is well that your
power far exceeded that of Voldemort or you would have perished.*

*To lose concentration during casting would cause the spell to afflict the caster instead of
the target. The Wasting Death did not cause death, but instead prolonged the life of the afflicted.
The stronger the person afflicted, the longer their torment. In the entire known history of magic,
only Merlin himself ever found the cure for it.”*

Harry perked up at that. “He did? What was it?”

*“That I do not know. I’m aware of only two of the ingredients needed, and from what Merlin
told Arthur, one is incredibly dangerous, and the other is incredibly inconvenient.”* Harry had
sat up, and was listening intently.

“Go on, what were they?”

*“The most dangerous one was the boiling blood of a FireDrake.”*

“A what?”

*“Firedrake. It’s a type of Fire Dragon. They are very rare.”*

“Great! Where do I find this rare type of dragon?”

*“They’re not rare in numbers, but rare in occurrences. They live around volcanoes, and reside
in molten rock. They are by far the most dangerous creatures in the world. Nothing made by mortals
can withstand the wrath of a FireDrake. I have never even heard of one being killed in all of my
existence.”*

“Obviously Merlin found a way.”

*“No, he didn’t make the cure, he found it.”*

“You said, “nothing made by mortals can withstand the wrath of a FireDrake.” I take that to mean
that in order to get the blood I need to use something made by an immortal. Right?”

*“Yes. There are many artifacts scattered throughout the world that were made by immortal
hands.”* Callie puffed out her chest proudly. *“ I happen to be the most powerful. The other
ingredient is most inconvenient for a wizard. You must cast a summoning spell that will alert the
Alicorn Nation that you need their assistance.”*

“What’s so bad about that? Summoning spells are child’s play for Hermione. She can cast them in
her sleep.” Harry said, and then scratched his head. “What’s an Alicorn?”

*“An Alicorn is a very aggressive, very skittish flying unicorn. It’s not the summoning spell
that is inconvenient; it’s the agreement that goes with it. When you summon an Alicorn, you are
agreeing to refrain from performing **any** magic at all from the time you summon it until it
has completed its task. The Alicorn Nation will respond to the summons by dispatching the nearest
Alicorn. The Alicorn will only make contact when it is satisfied that the summoner is trustworthy.
If the agreement is broken, the Alicorn will disappear without making contact, and the Nation will
not respond to another summons.”*

“Wow! No wonder it’s inconvenient. Still, tell me how to summon the thing.”

*“You cannot. Only a virgin female can summon an Alicorn.”*

“Aha! That’s why that little voice warned me to keep my hands to myself! Hermione has to perform
the spell to summon the Alicorn! Then what?” Harry was fairly bouncing up and down on his
knees.

*“An Alicorn can only be approached by the virgin, and its only weakness is magic, which is
why they demand that no magic is used. I wish I could tell you more, but Merlin is the only one to
know them all. He found the cure in a book, and was telling Arthur where, and what all the
ingredients were, but Arthur grew bored and ordered him to get to the point.”*

“What was his point?”

*“Merlin was trying to tell him that he was going to write both the curse and its cure in
another book. That way the cure would not become lost again.”*

“What book did he write it in? Do you know that?”

*“Yes. Merlin’s Memoirs or something like that. It shouldn’t be that hard to find, it was very
popular reading for wizards a thousand years ago.”*

Harry eyes were very wide as he absorbed all this information. “Thanks Callie. I’m going to go
tell all this to Hermione so we can start looking for that book. At least now we have a name to go
on.” He stood up and escorted her back to the lake. The cape slid from her body as she slipped
beneath the waters.

“Oh! By the way, do you know what happened six hundred years ago that would cause a number of
rare and priceless books to go missing?” Harry called after her.

Callie’s voice rose from the waves. *“It is part of your history Master. Search your
memory.”*

Harry stood up and patted the pommel in thanks. He headed for the kitchen, and found Hermione
finishing up dinner. “Hey, I’ve got great news!”

Hermione turned, the pot of spaghetti in her hands. “Really? Grab that pan of garlic bread, and
tell me about it.”

Harry did as she asked, and followed her into the dining room. He sat down the pan, while she
placed the pot on the table. He pulled out her chair for her, and then hustled back into the
kitchen for their drinks. Harry popped the tops on two butterbeers, and poured them into glasses.
He was tempted to just take the bottles to the table, but decided that even though they were home,
Hermione deserved a little bit of class. He placed the glasses on a tray, and took them back to the
dining room. He presented her drink with a flourish.

“Your beverage Madam.”

Hermione giggled as she took her glass off the tray. “Thank you.”

Harry went back to his chair, and started fixing his plate. When he finished, they said Grace
and began eating. He was debating on how much to share, and decided that he would go ahead with his
planned dinner conversation, and save the curse stuff for later.

“I know I told you I had great news, but I’d rather wait until after dinner for that if you
don’t mind.”

“That’s fine, I can wait.”

“Thanks. I had planned on telling you about my travels.”

“That’s right! I can’t believe I forgot.” Hermione smacked her forehead.

Harry scratched his head. “Hmmmm…After we graduated, I went back to the Dursley’s one last
time.”

“Oh Harry! You didn’t!”

“Yeah, I did.” Harry said grimly. “I had a lot of unfinished business with them. I told them
that if it hadn’t been for them, I could have had an almost enjoyable childhood, and that when I
had children of my own I damn sure knew the way NOT to raise them. I also told them about my
fortune that was under their noses the entire time.” He laughed. “You should have seen their
faces!”

“I can imagine.”

“Anyway, I gloated a bit, threatened them with bodily harm, and in general made an asshole out
of myself. I figured since they had been doing it to me for my entire existence, turn about was
fair play. I gave them a small glimpse of my true power, and…” Harry paused.

“And?” Hermione asked.

“I made Dudley wet himself.”

“You did what?”

“I scared him so bad that he wet himself. Right in front of his parents and Aunt Marge.”

“Harry. That was beneath you.”

“I know, I know. I felt a little bad, but he had it coming. I went back outside, hopped on
Sirius’ motorcycle that he gave me as a graduation present, and headed home. When I got there,
Sirius told me to get packed, we were going on vacation. I didn’t ask where, because I didn’t
really care. I wanted to send you postcards, but Sirius told me the idea of vacation is to take a
break from everything you know. Well, first we hit Paris, stayed there a couple of weeks and I
received my first introduction to Sirius’ lady killer charms. That man is James Bloody Bond!
Everywhere we went, ladies threw themselves at him. He’d make a date with one for one night, and
someone else the night after. Then we hopped over to Rome for a month, and Sirius met the Countess.
After that fiasco, he decided that Italy wasn’t really safe for us, and we took off for Athens. We
traveled by plane, train, boat, car, broom, and even walked during our travels. We weren’t in
Athens long before Sirius upset a powerful follower of Hecate. He was seeing her daughter, a girl
that was only a year older than I was at the time. We left Greece in a hurry, and decided to see
the sights of the Orient.” Harry paused to take a long drink from his glass.

“Wow! You certainly got around didn’t you?”

“Yeah, but that’s only half of it. I didn’t really care for the Orient very much, although I did
pick up some nice souvenirs.” Harry snapped his fingers suddenly. “That reminds me! I bought you
something, and completely forgot to give it to you!” He rushed from the table and tore open a hall
closet. He took a large box from the top shelf and hurried back to the dining room.

“Here it is. I’m sorry I forgot, but right after I got back I bought this place, started
renovating, and then received word of Dumbledore’s illness.” He handed her the box, and sat back
down. “You can open it now if you like. Or you can wait till I’ve finished with my story.”

“I’ll wait. I’ve been waiting for this story longer.” Hermione assured him.

“Well, after the Orient, we took a boat ride to Australia and I got to meet the Crocodile
Hunter. Turned out, Sirius stayed with them in his dog form for a few weeks while he was on the
run. Anyway, wasn’t much to do there, so we headed for America. We visited Hollywood, The Grand
Canyon, The Medicine Wheel, Chicago, Dallas, Houston, New Orleans, Charleston, Philadelphia,
Boston, New York, and this really eerie cave with tiny mummies wrapped in bandages with their eyes
open. That place gave me the creeps. The magic in the air was palpable.”

“What is the Medicine Wheel? And mummies?”

“The wheel is a circle of stone much like Stonehenge, but instead of being arranged like
Stonehenge, it’s arranged in the pattern of an old wagon wheel. The Native Shamen claim that it was
built in by: The Men Who Had No Iron, or The Little People, because they were there too. I was
struck by how powerful the aura around it was. Muggles don’t notice anything, but the Shamen do,
and Sirius and I did. It was like…I can’t really describe it, but I could tell I was in a place of
incredibly old magic. The mummies were the same feeling, with a slight tinge of sorrow. I couldn’t
help but wonder who had put them there. The mummies were about a foot and a half tall, about the
size of Leprechauns, and I think they were the Little People the Shamen spoke of. Either way, I’m
not going back to that cave anytime soon.”

“Spooked you that much?”

“Yeah, you try staring into faces of people that have been dead for who knows how long, and the
bad part is…the eyes are still alive!”

“What?”

“The eye’s aren’t decomposed, they look just like mine do or yours do. Still bright blue, just
like they awoke from a nap. The magic there was almost overwhelming, and I didn’t stay long.”

“Did you say ‘blue eyes’?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah, do you know anything about them?”

“Not a lot, but I have come across mention of some very powerful Leprechauns that left Ireland
thousands of years ago. Nobody knows why they left, but there has been speculation that they had a
vision, and it called to them.”

“That makes about as much sense as anything else does. After the cave, Sirius decided that I
needed to experience life American style. We rented a small apartment, and spent our days watching
television. That’s how I managed to learn the American accent so well. I can do Scottish, a bit of
Irish, I am zee ow’ do you zay terrible at the French, and can do passing well with Australian. I
would do a Mexican one, but I can’t do it without thinking about the little mouse cartoon that I
learned it from.” He chuckled, but then gave into the urge. He made his voice higher and nasal.
“Holy frijoles! I’m Speedy Gonzales! The fastest mouse in all Mejico!”

Hermione laughed at the impersonation. “That was spot on! I recognize that character from
television I watched on one of my family’s numerous vacations to the States.”

“I’m glad you like it. We stayed there for about five months, and then we came back here. I
bought this shack and started constructing the lower levels. I had just completed the second floor
when I got an owl from Dumbledore. I was owling you and Ron every week, but I didn’t get any in
return owls from him. Then I started researching spells to help Dumbledore fight this illness. I
managed to transfer a portion of my power to him, and that’s what’s kept him alive for the past two
years while I’ve been searching. Every now and then, I get an owl from his daughter, asking me to
come and see him. When I do, I give him some more power to sustain him until my next visit.”

“Harry, how can you transfer power to him? I’ve never read of such a thing being possible. One
can transfer **ALL** one’s power to another person, but there isn’t a spell that allows a person
to share their power. It either all or nothing.”

Harry blushed, and looked down and the table. “One thing I learned early on is that the rules
don’t apply to me Hermione.”

“What? How is that possible? You’re a Wizard, albeit a powerful one, the rules apply to
everyone.”

“I’m not a Wizard Hermione. I’m what is known as an Arch Mage.”

“Harry! That is not possible! It takes years of studying for an adult Wizard to become an Adept,
and decades to become a Mage! How can you be an Arch Mage?”

“My father came from a long line of Mages. It was expected that he would have become one in
time, and the only reason he attempted to face Voldemort was because he had begun his Adept
training and thought he might stand a chance. He was wrong. However, with all his power running
through my veins, it was inevitable that I too would one day reach Mage status. But something
happened that caused a considerable boost to my power.”

“Voldemort.” Hermione said.

“Yeah. When his curse backfired, it transferred all his powers to me, and combined with my
latent powers inherited from my father. That boosted my power quite a bit more.”

“I’ll bet. That must have sent your power level through the roof!” Hermione exclaimed.

“It did. I learned that Voldemort was a Mage too. That’s why no one could stand against him
except Dumbledore. They’re both Mages, although Dumbledore was slightly stronger due to being older
and studying longer. I am the first Arch Mage in centuries.”

“Wow!” Hermione’s mouth had fallen open. “I know I seem to be saying that a lot, but it’s the
only coherent thought in my head. Just wow!”

“How do you think I felt? I learned all this during 7th year, before we spent those four days in
the library researching Excalibur’s location. Then I began training with Dumbledore, and learned
how to use some of my power. Then, when I got back from vacation, some new ones appeared and that’s
why I didn’t visit you like I wanted, I wasn’t in full control of the new ones yet. I found this
out the hard way, I had originally wanted this place to be a two story, but the power got out of
hand and suddenly I had way more space than I had planned. So I made it a three story instead. I
can happily say however, that I haven’t blown anything up in at least six months, so I’m finally
safe to be around.”

“That’s nice to know.” Hermione said dryly. “Harry, you have to be careful. I’ve never even read
about someone with as much power as you have. Can you really control it?”

“I’ve spent the past two years getting a handle on it, now I can honestly say that I am in full
control of it.” Harry grinned sheepishly. “Except of course when I get excited.”

“I guess I’ll have to remember not to get you excited then.” Hermione smiled.

“I can do without that kind of talk.” Harry frowned. “It’s not conducive to my self control at
all.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll behave.” Hermione pouted.

“See that you do. Just being near you is taxing my resolve, and that little voice is screaming
in my head. And if that doesn’t persuade you, think about all the damage I could do if I get too
excited. Now, I’m immune to my power, but you’re not. I don’t want to see what charbroiled Hermione
looks like.”

“Oh. I wasn’t aware that it was that volatile.”

“And then some. I’m hoping that by the time we cure Dumbledore, I’ll be able to function like a
normal man without incinerating you.”

“I guess we’ll just have to get you acclimated to my touch in increments then. We’ll start out
with just little things like holding hands. Do you think you can handle that?”

“Yeah, I can take that and probably a bit more. I just don’t wanna chance hurting you.”

“Okay. We’ll move at your speed then.” Hermione changed the subject suddenly. “What was your
great news?”

“Oh that! I found out a possible name for the book that contains the curse and cure. It’s called
Merlin’s Memoirs, or a play on those words.”

“Wow! How did you learn this? You were only gone for a little while, not nearly long enough to
go back to the library.”

Harry rubbed the back of his neck. “I got this strange urge to ask Excalibur, and miracles of
miracles it knew what I was talking about. It told me that Merlin’s book was very popular reading
among wizards a thousand years ago.”

Hermione got up from the table and walked over to Harry’s chair. “How long have you been
researching this spell?”

“Uh…off and on, I’d say around a year.”

Hermione smiled sweetly, then gave him the mother of all Stooge slaps to the back of his
head.

“OW! HERMIONE! What was that for?” Harry asked, rubbing his head.

“You’ve been researching this spell for around a year, and you had vital information at your
fingertips the entire time? Why didn’t you ask Excalibur before? I thought I taught you better than
that Harry.” Hermione admonished.

“You did, but it never even occurred to me to ask the sword. I mean, how many normal people go
around asking their weapons for advice?”

“You are Harry Potter, the abnormal is normal for you.” Hermione smiled.

“This is true.” Harry admitted nodding his head. “ I just wish I had thought to ask sooner! All
that tedious reading could have been avoided!”

Hermione laughed. “Poor Harry! You had to learn for no reason. Perish the thought!”

“Ha ha. Laugh it up fuzzball.” Harry grinned.

“Fuzzball! Ooooh! Star Wars quotes,” Hermione cracked her knuckles. “Why you stuck up, half
witted, scruffy looking…Nerfherder!”

“Who’s scruffy lookin’?”

“You are!”

They dissolved into laughter.

Harry stopped first, wiping tears from his eyes. “It’s just not as much fun without Ron to do
Chewie.”

“I know. I really miss how much fun the three of us used to have.”

“Don’t worry, I got a feeling that we’re gonna need him for at least one of the
ingredients.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. We need the boiling blood from a Fire Drake, and from what Excalibur said, we’re gonna
need all the help we can get!”

“A Fire Drake? Harry, those things are dangerous!”

“I know. According to Excalibur, nothing can withstand the wrath of a Fire Drake except…objects
not made by mortal hands.”

“Wow. That’s going to be a tough order to fill.”

“Yeah it is. We also have to summon an Alicorn for something.”

“An Alicorn?” Hermione asked, “What’s that?”

“Way I hear it, it’s an extremely aggressive flying unicorn. It only responds to a particular
summons, and will not tolerate any magic used from the time it is contacted until after it has
completed its task.”

“That’s odd.”

“Not really. They’re only vulnerable to magic attacks. Which is why no magic is allowed at any
time from first contact till the thing has left.”

“Anything else?”

Harry flushed, but since he had come this far, there was no turning back.
“Uhmmm…Itcanonlybesummonedbyafemalevirgin.” He said quickly.

“Oh my!”

“HERMIONE! You **CAN** summon the Alicorn, can’t you?”

Hermione turned scarlet, and nodded. “Y—y—yes.” She stammered.

Harry blew out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Whew! That’s a relief! I didn’t
want to tell you that part because I wasn’t sure how you’d take it. You had me worried for a minute
there.”

“Harry Potter! Are you saying that my virtue was a question mark in your mind?”

“Uh NO! Of course not! I—I—I didn’t…” Harry wasn’t helping his situation any, and decided the
best way out of it was to distract her with something else. “My little voice wouldn’t have told me
to keep my hands to myself if you didn’t have your virtue.”

Hermione’s eyes narrowed. “You were still wondering though.” It wasn’t a question, and Harry was
unsure of how to get out of the hole that seemed to be getting deeper no matter what he said.

“Hermione, I’m sorry.” He gave her his best, lost puppy look.

“That’s not going to save you Harry! You questioned my virtue and I am appalled. How could you
think such a thing?”

“Well, I didn’t *mean* to think it.”

“I’m sure you didn’t, but deep down you still wondered and that’s what bothers me.”

“Hermione. Pumpkin, I nev…” Harry started, but Hermione cut him off quickly.

“What? What did you call me?”

Harry looked nervous. “Uh… Pumpkin? Is it too soon for me to say that? ForgetitItakeitback!” he
said, when her expression changed from curious to something he had trouble reading.

“No. No, I like it. Pumpkin. Why Pumpkin though?”

Harry shrugged. “I don’t know it just seemed to fit. Plus, remember that pumpkin pie we tried to
make in 7th year?”

Hermione laughed. “How could I forget? We got it all over us when that beater you enchanted to
stir it went crazy.”

Harry was pleased that his plan to throw her off the previous subject was working so well. “Hey,
I couldn’t help it. That was one of those times when my power got away from me.”

“Really? What caused you to lose control of it?”

Harry frowned. “You know, I haven’t been able to figure that out? It was the first time one of
my spells went haywire, and I have no idea why.”

“Maybe it was an indicator that your powers were getting much stronger than you were used to.”
Hermione offered.

Harry shrugged. “I guess. That does fit in with the events that happened later that year. First
the pie incident, then the research for Excalibur, and those four lovely days in the library,” he
scowled in memory, “and then my training with Dumbledore.”

Hermione giggled. “Poor Harry. You’ve spent the majority of the past two years researching one
thing or another. Ever consider a job in a research field? I’m sure you’d be good at it. What with
all your experience and all.”

“Not funny. Why don’t you open your present instead of picking on me?”

Hermione pinched his cheek. “But you’re so cute when you’re feeling picked on!”

Harry playfully slapped at her hand. “I am not!”

“Are too!” Hermione ruffled his hair, making it stick up even more than usual.

“Hey!” Harry said, trying to stop her. “I just got it to lay down!” He attempted to smooth his
wayward locks, but Hermione stopped him.

“Don’t,” she said, “I like it wild.”

Harry stopped trying to fix his hair. “Really? I thought you liked clean cut guys.”

Hermione blushed. “I do, mostly. But I…” She turned around and faced the wall. “Uh…Harry!”

Harry spun to look at her, and an incredible searing pain ripped through his head making him cry
out. He stumbled from his chair, and hit the floor on his knees. Through the blood running down his
face, he could make out writing on the wall. His eyes refused to focus, and rolled up into his
head. Harry slumped sideways, his head coming to rest on the seat of his chair. The last thing he
heard before losing consciousness was Hermione scream.

“HARRY!”

**Author’s Notes:** Please read and review. I’ll take any kind of constructive criticism. I
**really need** some good constructive criticism. If you like it, tell me why & in detail.
If you don’t like it, tell me why & in extreme detail. I’ll even take flames, **IF** they
are constructive. Remember, the more reviews I get the faster I can get out the other chapters! =
)



3. Chapter 3
------------

**Title:** Harry Potter and The Panacea – Chapter 03
**Author name:** Falcon
**Author email:** falcun_21@yahoo.com
**Category:** Schnoogle
**Sub Category:** Action/Adventure, Romance, Humor
**Keywords:** H/Hr
**Rating:** NC-17
**Summary:** Two years have gone by since the end of Harry’s final year. Voldemort is dead.
Harry has withdrawn from the wizarding society after defeating Voldemort and graduation from
Hogwarts, but still keeps in contact with Ron & Hermione through owl post and occasional
visits. Ron is a Chudley Cannon. Hermione has been working at Hogwarts since their final year with
all the Professors. Sirius has been acquitted of all charges against him and is the Transfiguration
Professor. Professor McGonagall is the new Headmistress replacing an ill Headmaster Dumbledore and
Flitwick is the Deputy Headmaster. Lupin is reinstated as the DADA Professor after Moody’s
retirement.

**Disclaimer**: All characters belong to JKR, and I ain’t making no money off them. This
story is made up of my own original ideas, and any resemblance to anyone else’s is strictly
coincidental, and unintentional.
**Chapter 3**

It was many hours later when Harry awoke. His skull felt like it was trying to split open, and
his scar gave the impression that a branding iron had been pressed to his flesh. Through the pain
in his head, he could hear Hermione pleading with him to wake up. He realized that his head was
resting on her lap, and that she was holding a damp cloth to his forehead.

“Harry, please come back to me!” Hermione begged.

Harry cracked his eyes open and groaned. “Hermione.” He noticed that her eyes were red and
puffy, and her hair was very unkempt.

“HARRY!” Hermione cried. “Are you okay?”

“Shhhh. Not so loud,” Harry whispered. He sat up, and the rag fell from his head. He started to
speak, but his stomach gave a sharp lurch, and he barely had time to turn his head before he
vomited. He turned over onto his hands and knees, and heaved again. He bowed his head as another
wave of nausea washed over him, and he purged his stomach of its remaining contents. Harry looked
up at the ceiling and took deep breaths. He felt something very cool brush his forehead, and push
back his sweaty hair.

“Are you alright?” Hermione asked, her hand combing softly through his hair.

“Yeah,” Harry said, “the nausea’s getting better.”

Hermione looked at the puddle on the floor, said a cleansing charm and the mess vanished.
“Here.” She said, handing him the wet cloth. Harry took it and wiped his mouth.

“I was so worried!” Hermione’s fear was still evident. She buried her face in his shoulder and
hugged him tightly. “I thought I’d lost you.”

“It’s okay, I’m here and I’m not going anywhere without you.” Harry closed his eyes and held her
tight.

“I tried everything I could think of to wake you up, but nothing worked. I wanted to owl Sirius,
but that meant leaving you, and I didn’t want to do that.”

“I’m okay,” Harry said. A fresh wave of pain chose that moment to rocket through his skull and
he clutched his head in both hands, as if to keep it from coming apart. “I think,” he groaned. The
pain seemed to grow stronger the more he moved his eyes around, and he closed them and pressed the
first two fingers of his hand to his forehead to alleviate the pain.

“Harry? Are you really alright?”

“I don’t know.” He used his other hand to rub his eyes. “My head is killing me, and my eyes feel
like they’re on fire.” Harry squinted at Hermione. “You’re also getting fuzzy.”

“Harry! Your *EYES*!” Hermione said, very shaken.

“What—what’s wrong with them?” Harry asked, a hint of fear in his voice.

Hermione drew back from him, and put up a hand, as if to ward off something, and scrambled
backwards. “They’re glowing bright green!”

Harry closed his eyes again. “Oh. That’s happened before.” He breathed a sigh of relief. “I was
beginning to worry for a second.”

“No Harry! When you use your powers, only the middle of your eyes glow but right now your
*ENTIRE* eye is glowing!” Hermione sounded like she was on the verge of panic.

“That is new.” Harry said, more calmly than he actually felt. He was just as scared as Hermione,
but knew that if he started losing it, then she would be gone for sure. “Try to keep it together
Honey. You’re no use if you’re all wonky.”

Hermione took several deep breaths, exhaling very slowly. “I think I’m alright now Harry.”

“Good.” Harry opened his eyes. “How are they now?”

“Much better, they’re back to normal. Do they feel any different?”

Harry squinted. “Oh bollocks! I’m blind again.”

“*WHAT!*”

“Relax, I’m not completely blind. I just need my glasses.” Harry waved his hand, and his glasses
appeared out of nowhere. He slipped them on and looked around. “Ahhhh,” he sighed, “everything
seems to be going back to normal.”

“Harry James Potter! Don’t scare me like that,” Hermione admonished sharply.

“Sorry,” Harry said, a trifle sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to.” He stood up, then reached down and
pulled Hermione to her feet. “Have you examined it?”

“Yes, and to tell the truth, I’m stumped. I have no idea how it could have happened.”

“I’ll know in a minute.” Harry said grimly, turning to take a long look at the dining room wall.
It was very faded, resembling old paint, but he could just make out the word that had been very
vivid the night before.

*Potter!*

Harry looked at it from various angles. At first glance it had appeared to be painted on, but
upon further inspection, he saw that it was in fact *etched* into the wall. The main bar of
the “P” ended in a lightning bolt, and Harry frowned. He placed his hand about an inch from the
wall’s surface, and slowly moved it over the letters of his name. As he passed each one it glowed
with an eerie green light and disappeared from sight. As he moved from letter to letter, his frown
grew deeper and deeper. When he got to the last one, Harry felt his blood run cold, and he
shivered. “Uh oh.” He mumbled.

“What? What’s wrong?” Hermione asked quickly.

“Trouble, BIG trouble, emphasis on the BIG.”

“Out with it!” Hermione said, her exasperation beginning to show.

Harry took a deep breath, and grimaced, “Voldemort is back.”

“How can you be sure?”

“This.” Harry said, pointing at his no longer oozing scar. “This.” He pointed to his glasses.
“And this.” He indicated the name on the wall.

“But I thought you said he was gone for good?” said Hermione.

“I thought he was.” Harry insisted, “But it would appear that he has marked me for death yet
again.”
“He’s found a way to come back?” she asked.

“That, or someone has found a way to bring him back,” he said. “Either way, it’s up to me to
stop him.” Harry strode for the door, an intense look on his face.

“No Harry!” Hermione hurried to catch up. “We have to alert the Order!” She said, doing her best
to match his pace.

“I knew you were going to say that.” Harry sighed.

Hermione got in front of him, and planted her hands on his chest, stopping him. “Harry! You know
we have to alert them! If you don’t do it, you know I will!”

“I know only too well.” Harry growled.

“And what is THAT supposed to mean?” Hermione narrowed her eyes.

Harry winced. “Nothing, forget it.” Harry pushed past her and entered his study.

Hermione latched onto his arm and spun him around just as he walked through the door. “I don’t
think so Mr. Potter,” she said, folding her arms across her chest.

Harry raised his hands in placation. “I just meant that you always do the responsible thing even
when I don’t want you to. Like when I got my Firebolt.”

“Oh God! I can’t believe you’d compare that to this!”

“I’m not comparing them, I was just mentioning another time when you took matters into your own
hands when I refused to do the smart thing.”

“Oh, so you admit that I did the right thing back then?”

“Honey, I got over that a long, long time ago. You were half right, and if I had been thinking
straight, I would have seen that.”

“Harry, it really hurt that you were mad at me, when all I was doing was trying to keep you
safe.” Hermione said softly.

“I know, and I’ve kicked my ass numerous times over the years for how much I took you for
granted or under-appreciated you.”

“You did?”

“Yes. I was blind. It never occurred to me just how much I needed you—need you.” Harry amended
quietly.

“D-d-do you really mean that?” Hermione’s lower lip started trembling, and she stuttered
slightly.

“Every word. I just wish I’d said them long ago,” said Harry, stepping closer and taking her
hands.

Hermione averted her eyes. “Y-y-you d-d-don’t know how much that means to me,” she said, a faint
blush coloring her cheeks.

“Yes, I do.”

“I-I-it’s okay Harry. There were a lot of things claiming the majority of your attention back
then.”

Harry shook his head. “No, there is no excuse for it,” he insisted. “You were there for me
through thick and thicker and I barely, if ever acknowledged that. I was so…”

“Harry…” Hermione pressed her finger to his lips to quiet him. “It’s alright. I forgave you for
being thickheaded a long, long time ago.” She laughed softy. “It’s really quite funny actually.
You’re so observant, but you completely miss what is right in front of you. It’s always been your
biggest character flaw.”

Harry tried to speak, but her finger against his lips bade him to remain silent.

“But that didn’t matter to me then, and it matters less now. I love you Harry. This last little
episode of yours drove that fact home very hard. I thought I’d lost you, and I didn’t know how I
was going to cope with that.”

Harry reached up and gently took her hand away from his mouth. “You love me?” He asked, the awe
in his voice apparent. Hermione nodded, and his heart gave a leap. No one had ever professed to
love him, not to his face anyway. There was a new sensation burning in his chest, and he realized
that Hermione wasn’t the only one in love. “I-I-love you too,” he said, not taking his eyes off
her. Before he knew it, he had gotten lost in Hermione’s smoldering eyes. Unable to stop himself,
he raised a hand and caressed her cheek, drawing her face closer to his. Their gazes remained
locked, and they both moved closer. He saw Hermione’s eyes close just before his own, and then he
knew nothing except the pressure of her lips on his, the taste of her mouth, and the light,
hesitant touch of her tongue. Acting instinctively, Harry brushed her lips with his own tongue, and
met hers in a silent duel when she invited him in.

For Harry, time lost all meaning, and nothing existed except Hermione. Her mouth under his, her
hands roaming from his hair, over his chest and down to his rear end had his full attention. He, of
course, felt that she deserved to get as good as she was giving, and his hands took to exploring as
well. He trailed his hands lightly over her shoulders, and down her sides just barely brushing over
her breasts, causing her to gasp into his mouth. The thin material of her shirt did nothing to
conceal her excitement, and feeling the hardened buds beneath his palms gave Harry pause. He broke
the kiss long enough to look where his hands were. He started to move them, but Hermione’s hands
grabbed his, holding them pressed to her chest. She whimpered when he repeatedly rubbed over the
sensitive nubs with his thumbs. Harry felt her hands move downward and rub his arousal through his
jeans. It was too much for him, and he slid his hands down to her behind, cupping the smooth flesh
through her skirt. He squeezed tightly, pulling her to him. They stumbled, and Harry felt his back
strike the doorjamb. Using it to catch his balance, he pushed Hermione up against the opposite
side. He nuzzled her ear, nibbling the lobe, before trailing kisses down the side of her neck.
Hermione moaned, grabbed his head and held it tight to her throat. He felt her clawing his shirt
free from his pants, and then her cool hands on his chest, squeezing his pectorals, and trailing up
and down his abs.

“I’ve wanted to feel your muscles ever since I saw you in the shower.” Hermione breathed.

Harry raised his hands to her breasts again, and looked into her eyes. He saw encouragement, so
he started fumbling with the buttons of her shirt. He spread the cloth, revealing her breasts
encased in a satin bra, colored a delicate pale pink with the clasp in front. The bra did little to
conceal, the light color and soft material meant that she might as well be nude, a condition that
Harry fully agreed with. He quickly worked out how to release the locking mechanism, and very
slowly, almost reverently caressed the soft mounds.

Harry gently rolled Hermione’s nipples between his fingers, and she gasped and shuddered. He
took a moment to examine her breasts, and he was in awe. They were very pert, and large enough that
his hands couldn’t contain them completely. “So perfect,” he mumbled. He crushed her lips with his
again, sliding his hands under her skirt, and this time he went under her panties as well. He
caressed the tight muscles of her cheeks and ground himself into her. He felt Hermione fumbling
with his belt, and before he knew it her hand was wrapped around him, squeezing softly. Harry’s
eyes crossed, and the world exploded around him.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Harry yanked Hermione’s hand out of his pants, and
spun quickly, looking for the threat. He saw glass, books and wooden shards flying all over the
room. He thrust Hermione behind him to shield her from the flying debris and conjured a field to
deflect shrapnel.

After the roar of the explosion had died down, and Harry had deduced that there wasn’t another
attack forth coming, he turned to his companion. What he saw caused him to smile, but the look on
her face killed his mirth. Hermione’s face was flushed, her hair was a mess, her bra was bunched up
under her shirt that was buttoned wrong, and only partially tucked in, but her wand was out and she
was ready for battle.

“What the bloody hell just happened?” Hermione’s lips moved, but no sound seemed to come
out.

Harry shrugged, closed his pants and gave her a once over. “I was about to ask if you were
alright, but my question has already been answered,” he shouted over the ringing in his ears.
Hermione smiled, showing that she understood even if she couldn’t hear him. He had understood what
Hermione said, even though he couldn’t hear her, almost as if her voice was in his head. He smiled
at her use of profanity; her proper grammar always seemed to be the first thing that disappeared
when she was upset.

Harry was assessing the damages, and looking for the cause of the explosion when he was attacked
by a very perturbed Snowy Owl. Hedwig didn’t look like she was hurt, but judging by her attitude,
and the look on her face, Harry was very glad that he couldn’t hear at the moment. The big owl was
obviously screeching at the top of her lungs, and every time she flew by him, she swatted him with
a wing. Harry ducked repeated flybys, and decided that the examination of the room could wait until
his pet had calmed down enough to allow them to look around without beating them to death. He
grabbed Hermione’s hand, and tugged her down the hall. He thought that if they left the room,
Hedwig would eventually wear herself out. He thought wrong. The Snowy Owl shot out of the study,
and flew straight at them, attacking with wings and talons. Harry threw up his arms to shield his
head as well as grab the disgruntled bird, but Hedwig was having none of it. She pursued them all
the way to the den, then perched on the chandelier and continued to voice her annoyance.

Harry indicated the couch, and Hermione sat down. He dropped down beside her, and took her hand.
They avoided the others’ eyes, and just stared at their clasped hands. Harry wanted to say
something about what had almost happened, but knew with their hearing on the blink it was useless.
He gently raised Hermione’s face until their eyes met. He looked deep; searching for affirmation
that what had nearly happened hadn’t been a mistake. What he saw made his heart swell, and he
couldn’t stop himself from smiling. His feelings were mirrored in her eyes, and they both breathed
a sigh of relief. Harry settled back on the couch, and wrapped his arms around her. Hermione laid
her head on his shoulder, and they just sat there, content.

Harry was unsure of how much time passed while they sat on the couch in companionable silence
and only realized that his hearing had returned when Hedwig landed on the arm of the couch opened
her beak a few inches from his ear and let out a shrill screech. Harry cried out and jammed his
fingers in his ears inadvertently striking the bird with his elbow. Hedwig took this as a personal
affront, and took to the air, screaming her fury, and startling Hermione who clapped her hands over
her ears and gave the raptor a look that promised death.

“Aaaahhhh! Hedwig! SHUT UP!” Harry roared.

Hedwig landed back on the chandelier, gave Harry a look that screamed injured pride, and
squawked at him before turning her back on him. Unfortunately, she continued her raucous
screeching. Harry’s head was starting to hurt from all the noise, and he yelled at the bird again.
He was unprepared for the look of disdain Hedwig turned on him before squawking again and showing
him her back. Harry had dealt with a lot of things, but Hedwig was worse than any Basilisk,
Dementor or anything Voldemort had thrown at him. “Hedwig! SHUT UP NOW!” Harry had pulled his
fingers from his ears, and was standing under the chandelier screaming at his pet.

Hedwig fluffed her tail feathers at Harry, and he raised a finger in warning. “Don’t you even
think about it,” he threatened.

The big owl fluffed her feathers again, gave him another look then turned her beak up at him.
That would have been fine with Harry, but when he turned back to Hermione, Hedwig launched into
another vociferous assault on their auditory senses. Harry spun around, his eyes blazing. “Hedwig!
I swear to God if you don’t shut up right now, I’m going to have fried owl for dinner!” He raised
his hand, his fingertip glowing with power, but a soft voice stopped him.

“Harry, calm down. I’ll take care of this.” Hermione said. Harry turned around to see Hermione
grinning and raising her wand. *“Quietus!”* she cried, and immediately Hedwig’s shrieking
ceased.

“Thank you,” Harry said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You’re welcome.” Hermione said brightly. She frowned suddenly. “Harry, you weren’t really going
to fry Hedwig were you?”

Harry laughed. “Not at all. You saw how worried she was right? I have to threaten her at least
once a day, just so she knows she’s still important.”

“That’s odd behavior for an owl isn’t it?”

“Not for Hedwig. I learned a long time ago that she has an attitude and a personality all her
own.”

Hermione giggled. “Poor Harry. She has you wrapped around her little talon hasn’t she?”

Harry chuckled. “Yeah, I’m whipped,” his grin turned wicked, “of course, now that I have you,
she’s got competition.”

Hermione blushed. “Don’t get me started again Harry,” she warned, “if you do, I don’t think I’ll
be able to stop no matter what blows up, and that would really hinder calling the Alicorn.”

Harry cleared his throat. “Right. I’ll behave if you will,” he stuck out his hand. “Want to
shake, or should we kiss on it?”

“Shaking is so impersonal,” Hermione said. “We’re practically lovers, we should kiss, but I
don’t think that’s a good idea considering what our last kiss led to.”

“Awww, c’mon. Just a quick one?” Harry said, giving her his most innocent look.

Hermione frowned, “I really don’t think we should Harry.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. Pinky swear?”

“Pinky swear,” Hermione said, smiling.

Harry stuck out his smallest finger, and curled it around Hermione’s. “I swear to behave, and do
my best to control my urges towards you,” he said.

“Me too.” Hermione grinned.

“That was a total cop out, and you know it.” Harry scolded.

Hermione gave him her brightest smile. “I know.” She turned and walked away.

Harry’s mind was a complete blank. He wasn’t sure when Hermione had gained the ability to turn
his brain to mush with a smile, and was mildly amused when he realized that he liked it. He was
still musing, when he realized that Hermione was no longer in the room.

“Hey, where’d you go?” Harry said, leaving the room. He started to go look for Hermione, but
decided that he really should investigate his study and see what had exploded. He entered the room,
and was aghast at the mess. Glass littered the floor, and protruded from the walls. He stepped over
numerous books, picked up the luxury eagle feather quill given him by Hermione for Christmas their
second year at Hogwarts, and placed it on his desk.

Harry couldn’t sense any Dark Magic in the room, so he looked for the remains of any Muggle
explosive devices. He canvassed the entire room and found nothing. Opening his awareness, he
expanded his senses outward, searching for anything out of place. That too was a bust, and Harry
was left with the conclusion that he had caused the explosion during his and Hermione’s almost
romp. He shook his head in irritation, and grabbed a handful of owl treats for Hedwig. He set them
on his desk, and whistled for the owl. He looked around at the room and shook his head again in
disgust. He snapped his fingers, and the room was instantly repaired.

Harry decided that even though they had agreed to behave, he and Hermione really needed to talk
about what had happened, and much as he didn’t want to do it, he knew they were going to have to
come to some kind of terms.

Harry left the study, and headed for his room to change clothes. He heard movement in the
bathroom, and quietly opened to door to see Hermione already changed for bed, and brushing her
teeth. He folded his arms and leaned against the doorjamb, watching her every movement. She was
wearing a nightgown instead of the shorts and t-shirt combo of the previous night, and Harry found
her choice very appealing. It was light blue and thigh length. He was also very surprised, and very
pleased to note that under the gown, she wore nothing at all. Hermione bent over to rinse her
mouth, and her gown rode up, almost exposing the lower portion of her bottom, and causing Harry’s
breath to quicken. She grabbed a robe that had somehow skipped his attention and shrugged into it.
Harry waited until the last possible second before closing the door and going about his own bedtime
ablutions.

Harry was in his room when Hermione knocked on the door. “Come in,” he called.

“Are you decent?” Hermione asked, before slowly opening the door a crack and peeking in.

“Decent enough.” Harry said. He was wearing a pair of black boxer-briefs and was digging through
his drawers for a pair of shorts to sleep in. He looked up when Hermione walked in. He noticed that
she had tied her robe very securely around herself, and halfway expected her to have cast a
knotting charm as well. “Hey,” he said simply, going back to his task.

“Getting ready for bed?”

“Yeah, soon as I find my shorts.” Harry muttered, wondering exactly when he had managed to lose
his favorite pair of shorts.

“No pajama bottoms tonight?” Hermione asked, dropping down on his bed and leaning on an elbow to
watch.

“Nah, too warm and binding.” Harry slammed the next to last drawer shut, and opened the bottom
one. “If they’re not in here, then I have no clue as to where they might be.”

Hermione rolled onto her stomach and kicked her feet in the air. “Can’t just sleep in your
underwear?”

“I guess I could, if you don’t mind seeing my pale, skinny legs that is.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Okay, don’t blame me if you go blind from the glare.”

“I’ll chance it.”

“You’ve been warned.” Harry stood up and pushed the drawer shut with his foot. He grabbed a
t-shirt off the bed and pulled it on. He sat down beside Hermione, and rested his hand on her back.
“Pumpkin, we have to talk.”

“Let me guess,” Hermione said, sitting up and facing him. “We blew up the study.”

Harry knew his confusion showed on his face. “How’d you guess?”

Hermione gave Harry an incredulous look. “I could feel the power coming off you in waves Harry.
With the amount of energy you were pouring out, I’m surprised there’s a room left.”

“Yeah. That’s really what I wanted to talk about. You got me that worked up and all I did was
blow up the study, the power didn’t hurt you. I was afraid that if something happened between us,
then the power would affect you just like it did the room. I’m glad I was wrong.” Harry ran a hand
through his hair. “Speaking of that, I think it was more of how fast I got worked up rather than
the intensity of the build up that caused the explosion.”

“So you think that if you had gotten worked up slower then everything would have been
alright?”

Harry nodded. “Yeah, you said I was pouring out a lot of energy, and you’re not hurt by it, so
if I get excited slowly, then we should be able to release a lot of, for lack of a better word,
excess energy.”

“We still can’t have sex Harry.” Hermione said. “Although God knows I want to.” She said the
last part very softly, and Harry barely caught it.

“I know, but there are alternatives.”

“What?”

Harry gave Hermione a suspicious look. “Hermione, you don’t know anything about sex, do
you?”

Hermione’s face turned bright red, and she sat bolt upright. “I know as much as you do!”

Harry grinned. “Somehow, I seriously doubt that.”

“I know everything I need to, thank you very much!” Hermione was working herself into one of her
patented huffs.

“Oh really?”

“Yes really!” she snapped.

“Care to test your knowledge?”

Hermione folded her arms and glared at him. “I am always ready to test my knowledge.”

“Okay then. What can two people do to relieve the sexual tension in each other?”

“Just jumped right in there didn’t you.” Hermione flushed. “I know the basics, and there’s
y’know the thing with uhm…well.” Her blush grew brighter and brighter. “Alright! I don’t know!
Okay? I have an idea, but I don’t know anything for a fact.”

“Hermione, you’re the most well read person I’ve ever met, how can you not know this?”

Hermione looked down at her lap. “I don’t know. It just never interested me enough. I was too
busy learning what I considered useful information to worry about anything of a sexual nature.”

“Right,” Harry felt an attack of nerves coming on, and rushed ahead. “So, would you be
interested in learning then?”

“I-I-I’m not sure,” Hermione stammered.

“Are you scared?” he asked gently.

“A little,” she admitted.

“Do you trust me?” Harry stared into her eyes.

“With my life.” Hermione returned his gaze. “It just seems that we’re moving awfully fast.”

Harry nodded. “I understand completely. It’s only been a couple of days since we first mentioned
that we have feelings for each other, and now we’re talking about sex, and its alternatives.”

“Yeah. Can we slow down?” Hermione asked. “At least a little bit?”

Harry took a deep breath, and broke their eye contact. “Of course. We don’t have to do anything
right now, and to be honest I think we should become a little more comfortable with each other
before we do take that next step. Also, it will give both of us time to get used to the idea.”

“I like that better.” Said Hermione. “Thanks.”

Harry smiled. “No problem.”

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“Where did you learn about sex?” Hermione’s voice held the unmistakable note of a person that
knows they’re not going to like the answer to the question they just asked.

“Sirius. He tried to tell me everything, but that was a conversation that died very quickly. I
picked up some vague things just by listening, and reading some of his magazines, and then when we
were in America, we had cable. He made sure that we got **ALL** the channels, and encouraged me
to take a look at the more adult fare while he was out. So I watched Cinemax, and quite a few adult
movies and coupled with what I already knew from reading, I now have a working knowledge of what
can be done. No practical experience, but a whole lot of knowledge on the subject.”

“Oh.” Hermione had a very thoughtful look on her face.

Harry wondered what was going on inside her head, and watched her very carefully. He didn’t say
anything, giving her time to think about everything. He watched her thoughtful expression change
several times before settling on one that he recognized as her determined look.

“I want to learn.” Hermione said simply, but her face glowed with obvious embarrassment. “Will
you teach me?” Her voice was very quiet.

Harry reached out and took her hands in his. “We’ll learn together,” he said softly. He was
about to say more, but Hermione cut him off with a soft laugh. “What’s so funny?” he asked.

“Us.” Hermione smiled, shaking her head.

“What about us?”

“We keep adding to our list of things to get done. One; find the book that has the spell in it.
Two; deal with the Order.” She said, ticking them off on her fingers. “Three; Gather the
ingredients for the potion to cure Dumbledore. Four; Stop Voldemort, and Five; teach each other
about sex. Quite a list wouldn’t you say?”

The tender moment was effectively ended, and Harry felt the beginnings of a massive headache
brewing behind his eyes. He hadn’t thought of everything the way Hermione had. When tallied, they
had indeed given themselves quite a set of tasks. He took off his glasses and fell back on the bed
with a groan. “Damn.” He felt the bed move, and Hermione laid her head on his shoulder.

“Don’t worry Harry.”

“I can’t help it.” Harry rubbed his eyes. “I never once gave a thought to how many things we
have lined up. At first, all I was going to do was research the spell, and hopefully find something
that would help Dumbledore. Then we find out that a couple of the ingredients for the potion are
damn near impossible to get, and my scar bursts open and there’s a message saying Voldemort is
back, or will be back soon. And then to top everything off, there’s this big thing between you and
I that has to be dealt with, and sooner rather than later, because I don’t think I’ll be able to
stand it for very long.” He took a deep breath. “That’s a lot to deal with, and I don’t know how
I’m going to manage it.”

“We.”

“What?”

“Not you. We.” Hermione repeated. “You’re not shouldering this alone Harry. I’m here for as long
as you need me.”

“Oh.” Harry raised his head, and looked at her. “Thank you.” He said, kissing the top of her
head.

“You’re welcome.”

Harry could hear the fatigue in Hermione’s voice, and it dawned on him that they had been
running at full steam all day, and most of the night. He yawned, and realized that if they were
going to be of any use tomorrow, then they really should get to bed. “Hermione?”

“Hmmm?” she mumbled.

“I think we should go to bed.”

It was a testament to how tired Hermione was, that she didn’t even react to the suggestive
nature of his comment. She just nodded against his chest and curled up closer to him. “Sounds good
to me.”

Harry groaned. This was not going to be easy. “I meant in our own beds.”

“I’m comfy here.” Hermione seemed intent on snuggling as close as possible to him, and Harry
wasn’t sure about how to handle it.

“Hermione.” Harry raised his voice slightly to get her attention. “I would love for you to sleep
right here with me, but…” He blushed, “I tend to wake up in an excited state.”

“You too?” she asked, yawning.

“Hermione!” Harry snapped through gritted teeth. “This is severely taxing my self control here.
If I don’t control my excitement, then it may become too strong to fight.”

Hermione looked at him sleepily. “Huh?” Harry could see her dawning realization of what his
words meant. “Oh. OH!” She sat up quickly. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking, of course you’d have to
deal with your excitement, just as I’ll have to deal with mine.” She realized what she had said a
moment too late, and she turned scarlet. “That is to say that uhm…What I meant to say was…”
Hermione got redder and redder the more she tried to dig herself out. Harry finally took pity on
her and interrupted.

“I know what you’re trying to say, and it’s completely natural.”

“I know that Harry, but don’t you think it’s a bit odd for us to be talking about it?”

Harry shrugged. “Not really,” he stifled a mighty yawn, and blinked rapidly. “It is a
conversation for another time though. We need sleep, and now.”

Hermione nodded and got off the bed. She leaned down and kissed him quickly on the lips. “Good
night Harry.”

“Night Hermione.” Harry watched her leave the room, and grimaced. This was going to be tougher
than he thought. Hermione didn’t realize just how fragile his control was, and her constant
innocent flirting combined with her not so innocent comments were going to get them both in trouble
unless he did something about it and fast. Harry sat up and pulled his legs in to sit in the
classic meditation posture. He concentrated, and an image of Hermione formed in his mind. He placed
his formless hand at the apex of her thighs, and a soft green glow traced the outline of her body.
The glow intensified when it located her center, then it disappeared. Harry opened his eyes and
smiled. There, now she was protected. He wouldn’t be able to ruin their plans by jumping the gun.
He could still remove the ward, but it would take a clear head, and total control in order for that
to happen, and those were two things he did not have when he was excited. Satisfied with his work,
Harry pulled back the covers and slid under them. He knew the next day was going to be hectic, but
he would cross that bridge when he came to it.

It was early the next morning when the sound of the shower running, and someone singing jerked
Harry from a very restful sleep. He sat up very quickly, and the covers slid down his chest to
bunch around his waist. He sat there for a moment listening, and trying to get up the initiative to
get out of bed. He was sorely tempted to go back to sleep, and it seemed like such a good idea,
that’s exactly what he did. He fell backwards, asleep again before his head hit the pillow.

Harry woke again some time later. He checked the digital readout on his watch, and saw that is
was past 8 A.M. He hopped out of bed, and dropped to the floor. He did 150 push-ups, then rolled
over and did 150 crunches. He flipped up onto his feet, pulled on his pants and headed for the
bathroom. He was surprised to discover that he wasn’t excited in the least, and put it from his
mind as he went about his business. When he came out ten minutes later, Hermione was waiting for
him.

“Good morning!” she said brightly. “Sleep well?”

“Yeah. You?” Harry sat down on the edge of his bed and pulled on a clean pair of socks.

“Wonderful,” Hermione took a deep breath. “I feel invigorated! I made breakfast if you’re
hungry, and I took the liberty of making you a cup of coffee. It’s in the study.”

“That’s great. Let me grab the trunk and I’ll meet you there.”

“Okay!” Hermione fairly skipped from the room.

“She sure is chipper this morning.” Harry stamped his feet into his boots, and went to his
closet. He took a small chest down from the shelf, and carried it to his study. He set the box down
on his desk, and opened it. Inside was a tray containing quills, ink, rolls of parchment, and a
large number of stamps bearing the image of a phoenix. A large phoenix was emblazoned across the
inside of the lid as well. Harry lifted the tray out, and looked at the items under it. A bundle of
black cloth bore the red and gold phoenix symbol, and he took it out and placed it on the desk
beside the tray. It was the last item that he wanted the most. A small medallion carved in the
effigy of a phoenix rising from the flames. “I don’t think we should call everyone.”

Hermione frowned. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, just the basics.”

“You’re the boss.”

Harry looked at Hermione and nodded. She walked up to him and placed her hands on the medallion
as well. “We two of the honored few, chosen to do battle with the darkness do call Sirius Black,
Remus Lupin, Minerva McGonagall, William Weasley, and Severus Snape! By the oath that binds us and
in the name of the phoenix, hear our call!” The medallion glowed bright red, and they could hear a
phoenix song surrounding them. The warbling grew in intensity, and then faded away. They lowered
their arms, and placed the medallion back on the desk.

“How long will it take them to get here?” Hermione asked.

“Not long. We have time to get ready, and that’s about it.”

“Are we doing the robe thing?” Hermione frowned.

Harry shook his head. “No. Very informal.”

“Will they know that?”

“Well, since this isn’t a prearranged meeting, they should realize that it’s more urgent than
routine.”

“Okay. I was just wondering, because every meeting I’ve been to was the formal affair.”

“That’s right, I forgot that you started after I did.”

“It’s only thanks to you that Ron and I were allowed in anyway.” Hermione groused.

Harry’s eyes widened. “Is that what you think? They always intended for you to become a member,
Dumbledore just thought it would be better if I asked you.” He paused and considered how much to
tell her. “It was Ron I had to fight for,” he said quietly. “It took a lot of talking on mine and
Bill’s part to get Dumbledore and McGonagall to reconsider him.”

“I’m not surprised.” Hermione said. “Given his volatility and carelessness, he would be
considered quite a risk.”

“Thankfully he never gave me a reason to regret getting him in the order, and I’d prefer to drop
this topic because we’re going to need his help to save Dumbledore. Besides, I have to open a
passage so they can Apparate in.”

“Alright. I’ll go prepare the tea. You do,” she waved a hand as she left the room, “whatever it
is you do.”

Harry smiled, and placed all the items except the phoenix stamps back in the chest. He set it on
the floor and pushed it under his desk. Standing up, he walked around the desk and raised his hands
in front of him. His eyes blazed, and the air crackled around him. Energy surrounded his hands, and
he clapped them together loudly. The magic intensified, and he slowly drew his hands apart,
lightning jumping between them. Harry continued spreading his arms until they were straight out to
his sides, the lightning surrounding his hands traveled down his arms and gathered at his chest. He
bared his teeth in a wordless snarl, and his entire body vibrated as he strained to shape a huge
amount of energy into a large glowing orb. He grabbed the incandescent ball and shoved it away from
him. It expanded as it left his hands, and carved a hole through the barriers he had constructed
around his dwelling. Harry’s knees turned to jello, and he grabbed the desk for support. “Whoa,” he
breathed. His strength gone, he dropped to his knees. He heard running feet, and turned his head to
see Hermione skidding into the study.

“HARRY!” Hermione rushed to him. “Are you alright? What happened?” she asked, kneeling at his
side.

Harry rested his head on the desk and tried to gather his strength before speaking. “I hate that
part.”

“Harry, what happened? Are you hurt?”

“I’m okay,” he reassured her. “Help me up.” With Hermione’s help, Harry rose to unsteady feet.
“The chair,” he said weakly.

Hermione nodded, and grabbed the chair from behind the desk. She wheeled it to him, and he
collapsed into it. She pushed him back around the desk, and sat on the edge, watching him with
worried eyes.

Harry picked up his coffee and took a shaky sip. He was greatly annoyed at how much he was
trembling, and set the cup down before he dropped it. Hermione’s hovering, though welcome, didn’t
help. Harry closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. “Harry, tell me what happened!” she
demanded.

Harry hated how drained and irritable he felt when he had to use a large amount of his power.
“Hermione, I’m fine!” he snapped. He saw the hurt in Hermione’s eyes, and was instantly sorry. He
grabbed her hand before she could run away, and pulled her down onto his lap. “I’m sorry.” He said
quickly. “I didn’t mean it.”

“Harry, what happened?”

Harry leaned his head back and closed his eyes. “If I use too much power, it drains me.”

Hermione frowned. “It drains your power?”

“No. The power drains my stamina and physical strength to replenish itself. I’ve learned that
the better the shape I’m in, the quicker it replenishes, and the easier it is on me.” He opened his
eyes and looked at her. “But, if I use more than I should…” he trailed off.

Hermione’s eyes grew wide. “Harry! You could die if you use too much couldn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Can you sense when you’re using too much?”

“Sort of. If I have to strain a lot to control it, then I can pretty much assume that it’s going
to be a rough recovery.”

“You said that the better the shape you’re in, the easier it is on you, right?” Hermione had a
gleam in her eye.

“The more physical strength, stamina, and endurance there is for it to draw from, the quicker it
replenishes, and it doesn’t drain me as much. Why?”

Hermione caressed his chest. “That just means we’ll have to get you in better shape.” She
squeezed his pectoral muscles. “Now I know where these came from.”

“Huh? Oh!” Harry blushed. “Yeah, well…uhm...Hermione, I don’t think we should start that again.”
He waved a hand toward the center of the room. “Our guests will be arriving any moment now.”

Hermione hopped off his lap. “Alright, I’ll go get the tea. They should be here by then,
right?”

Harry nodded. “Yeah.”

“Okay, be right back.” Hermione left the room.

Harry sighed. He hoped the Order would be able to take some of the load off his shoulders, he
had enough to deal with without worrying about a dead man coming back to make his life Hell once
again. He was musing about his laundry list of problems when the first member Apparated into the
study. It was Sirius Black.

“Harry? What are you doing calling a meeting of the Order?”

“Hey Sirius. I’m only going to explain this once.” Harry waved a hand, and six very comfortable
chairs appeared. Three in front of his desk, one on each end, and the sixth was right beside his.
“So have a seat and wait for the rest to arrive,” he said, indicating the chair at the right hand
side of his desk. Hermione came in bearing a tray loaded down with tea and scones. She set it down,
and took the chair right beside him.

“Hello Sirius.” She said.

“Hey Hermione,” Sirius smiled in greeting, and sat down in the chair Harry had indicated. He
leaned over and whispered conspiratorially. “I’d ask what’s going on, but I’m supposed to wait for
everybody else.”

Hermione giggled and whispered back. “Harry told me you’re engaged to Athena, congratulations!
I’m so happy for you.”

“Thanks.” Sirius reached for a cup and poured himself some tea. “Harry told me you’re going to
write a revised edition of Hogwarts: A History. I always knew you would someday. Way to go!”

Harry ignored their talking, instead focusing his power inward to help regain his strength.
Luckily, it didn’t drain him to use it in small increments. It was only when he really charged up
that it weakened him. He felt his strength return in full, and even a little more than he had
before. This wasn’t the first time that he had felt his strength increase after being drained, and
he wasn’t sure how to deal with it. But, since he felt much better he didn’t dwell on it. He took a
sip of his coffee and leaned back in his chair and waited. A few seconds later the second member
arrived. It was Remus Lupin.

“Harry? Sirius? Hermione?” Remus had a confused look on his face. “Who called this meeting?”

“Harry.” Sirius said. He patted the chair next to him. “Have a seat Moony. He won’t talk until
everybody gets here.”

Remus sat down and grabbed a scone to munch on. “ Harry, Hermione.” He nodded in greeting.

Harry was happy to see that his father’s old friend had happened onto much better times since
the last time he had seen him. The lycanthrope’s robes were brand new, and he seemed to be in very
good health. “Hey Professor.”

“Professor.” Hermione echoed.

Remus flinched. “Guys, you don’t have to call me “Professor” anymore. Remus is fine, or even
Moony.”

Harry and Hermione were saved from answering by the arrival of Minerva McGonagall and Bill
Weasley.

“Please save any questions until everyone has arrived.” Harry said. He rose to meet Professor
McGonagall. “A pleasure to see you again Professor.”

“Mr. Potter. Professors.” McGonagall nodded, indicating Sirius, Remus, and Hermione.

“Hey Bill.”

“Hiya Harry.” Bill sat down next to Lupin, and McGonagall took the last seat in front of the
desk. Harry was glad that his seating arrangement had worked out, with Hermione right beside him,
and Sirius on her right, and Lupin next to him, and Bill between Lupin and McGonagall, that left
the left hand chair for Snape. Harry knew the animosity between Snape and Black, and wasn’t taking
any chances. He barely had time to set back down before Snape arrived.

“Potter! By what authority do you call this meeting?”

“Sit down Severus!” Sirius ordered, and Harry groaned. Black looked like he was ready to leap
across Lupin and Weasley to get to the Potions Master.

“Greetings Professor,” Harry said politely, cutting a sideways glance at Black. He saw Hermione
put her hand on Sirius’ forearm, and whisper something. Whatever it was, the man leaned back in his
chair. “Please have a seat, and we’ll get started,” Harry said, with a hint of steel in his voice.
Snape glowered, and pulled his chair further away from the desk. Harry took a deep breath, and
fought to keep his temper in check.

“First off, I want to thank you all for coming. I know this is an unscheduled meeting, and
several members are absent, and I will address that in a moment.” He held up his hands to signal
that he wasn’t finished yet. “Please save your questions until after I’m finished.” Harry took a
deep breath and let it out slowly. “We have a situation that warrants the Order’s attention. Last
night, after dinner Hermione and I were the recipients of a message. I cannot show you this
message, because it was written in Mage.” He paused to allow his audience to grasp the magnitude of
that statement. “There have been only two Mages in recent history, Dumbledore and Voldemort. This
message was from the latter. Now, before you all start saying he’s dead, he can’t leave a message,
I want you to know that this message was a tracer. I have no idea when I picked it up, or when it
was created. All I can tell you is that it activated last night, and my scar burst open. Not only
that, but my eyesight has deteriorated back to like it was when Voldemort was alive.” Harry took a
sip of coffee and made eye contact with each of his listeners. They were all paying rapt attention
like he knew they would.

“This message could not come at a worse time. I’m sure you all know that Professor Dumbledore is
ill, right?” Everyone nodded, and Harry continued. “He is not sick however. He is dying, a very
slow, very painful death. Hermione and I have been working on finding the cure, but the book that
houses the spell disappeared six hundred years ago, and we have only a vague name to go on.
However, that is our task. Your tasks are as follows. Sirius, you have friends in the animal
kingdom that can keep an eye and ear out, I want you to talk to them and see what they’ve heard.
Remus, you’re the DADA at Hogwarts, it’s your job to be prepared for the worst. Professor,” he
looked at McGonagall, “you run Hogwarts now, it’s only right that you know what’s going on.” Harry
paused again and looked at Snape and Weasley. “You two are more difficult. Professor Snape, you’re
the head of Slytherin House, and you still know the families that were followers of Voldemort. I
leave it up to you to deal with the covert surveillance, and intelligence gathering.” Snape seemed
shocked, but hid it well. “Now, when I think Voldemort, I automatically think “Malfoy,” but
Hermione tells me that Draco has reformed. I’m sure you all aren’t surprised when I say I don’t
believe it for a second. That’s where you come in Bill.”

“Me?”

“I hate to say it like this, but you’re the only Weasley I trust with this assignment. Ron
hasn’t responded to any of my owls in months, and your mother and father don’t need this worry.” He
paused again. He hated what he was going to say next, but the man needed to know everything. “Bill,
Ginny has been dating Draco, and Hermione says that Ginny told her he proposed. I don’t want you to
arouse her suspicions, so be subtle. If she thinks you’re investigating Draco for any reason other
than a big brother’s concern for his sister, she’ll clam up. Also, and this is very hard for me to
say, Voldemort told me right before he died that a baby would be his way back to this world. I hate
to think that Malfoy may be using Ginny to create a body for Voldemort, and I know that you do too.
See what you can find out. Any questions?”

Not surprising, there were many. Sirius raised his hand. “Harry, I thought you killed Voldemort
for good.”

Harry sighed. “I knew this would come up. Hang on.” He turned to Hermione. “Would you go get the
sword?”

“Sure.” Hermione hopped up and left the room. She came back a few minutes later holding
Excalibur. She laid the sword on the desk and took her seat.

Harry stood up and pulled the gleaming blade from its scabbard. “This is Excalibur. In my
seventh year at Hogwarts, Professor Dumbledore told me that if Voldemort got his hands on this
weapon he would be unstoppable. Needless to say, Hermione, Ron and I spent a lot of time in the
library searching for its whereabouts. I don’t know how Dumbledore knew the things he did, but when
we found the clues, he transported us to where the sword was hidden. He assured me that it would
destroy Voldemort for good. Unfortunately, Voldemort found a way to circumvent destruction once
again. The sword’s enchanted blade wiped out his physical body, and his spiritual one. But somehow,
he found a way to survive on another plane of existence.” Harry laid the sword down and stopped
talking, because of the uproar at his words.

“Wait a minute! How can he be dead physically, dead spiritually, and still be a threat?” Sirius
was of course the loudest.

“There exist another plane beyond those we know. Only Mages acquire the ability to travel the
Astral plane.”

“Astral plane?” Hermione frowned. “I’ve never read about that.”

“Nor have I, and how do you know of these things Potter? You’re no Mage!” Snape growled.

Harry felt his temper struggling to break free, and shut his eyes to force it back. “No
Professor, I’m no Mage.” He opened his eyes, and they glowed a bright iridescent green. “I’m an
Arch Mage.”

“Mr. Potter, that is quite impossible.” McGonagall spoke up. “It takes years to learn the
discipline to be an Adept, and decades to progress to Mage level magic. You are far too young to
have those abilities.”

“Yeah, I know. I heard all this from Hermione when I first told her. Why do you think Voldemort
was after me the night my parents died Professor?” Harry pinned McGonagall with an intense
look.

“He wasn’t after just you Potter! He was after your entire family.” Snape cut in.

“Bzzzt! Wrong!” Harry snorted. “I’ve had to relive that night a thousand times over, and
Voldemort told my mother to get out of the way and he would let her live. He wanted ME! And why you
ask? Because he knew what I was, somehow he sensed it. Just like Dumbledore knew there was
something about me, why else would he allow a first year student to take on the Dark Lord? I could
sense Voldemort ever since I first came to Hogwarts, and now that sense has gotten more powerful. I
can tell that he isn’t in the right plane. Somehow, he managed to reach the Astral plane before he
died, and he’s there now. Waiting for his followers to provide him with an infant body to
inhabit.”

“This is absurd! You can’t expect us to take your word that you’re an Arch Mage Potter! None of
us have seen anyone more powerful than Dumbledore or Voldemort, and they were as you say, Mages.”
Snape sniffed.

Harry inspected his fingernails. “You don’t believe me?” He looked around, and they all shook
their heads, except for Hermione.

“I believe you Harry.” She said.

“Big surprise there.” Snape hissed.

“Okay, you asked for it.” Harry spread his legs wide, and called upon the power within him. The
air around him crackled with static electricity, wind blew his hair back, and his eyes blazed. A
blinding green glow surrounded him, and lightning crackled at his fingertips. He slowly rose off
the floor, and the lightning traveled up and down his body. He threw his arms out sideways, and the
entire room shook and filled with a howling wind. He looked down at his guests to see that they had
all left their seats and were huddled next to the chairs, all except Hermione. She still sat in her
chair, drinking her tea, and smiling. Harry figured his demonstration was a success, and slowly
stopped the wind, and lowered himself back down. The glow around him faded, and the lightning
disappeared. He placed his fists on the desk and smiled. “Believe me now?”

Sirius raised his head and peeked over the desk edge. “Remind me not to make you mad.”

Remus resumed his seat and grinned. “I’ll second that.”

Bill was practically bouncing up and down. “That was awesome!”

McGonagall tried to contain a grin. “I’m afraid I’ll have to concur with Mr. Weasley.”

“Quite the theatrics Potter. But you convinced me.” Snape was deadpan, but his voice shook just
a bit.

“Rest assured people. If Voldemort does find a way back, I will introduce him to my full power.
I’ve been practicing something I saw on television in America, and I’m positive that if I use
enough power, I’ll kill his physical, spiritual, astral, and any other forms he may take.” Harry
slammed his fist on the desk hard enough that he heard the wood crack. “I am through playing games
with this sonofabitch! Find out what’s going on. Take these.” He grabbed the phoenix stamps and
passed them around. “You all know how they work.”

“Alright Harry.” Sirius shook Harry’s hand, and gave Hermione a hug. “I’ll let you know the
moment I hear anything.”

“I’ll keep an eye open around school.” Remus too gave a handshake and a hug.

“I’ll see what I can find out from Gin, and let you know. Take care everybody.” Bill refrained
from the hugging, but gave handshakes.

“I shall take care of my duties Potter.” Snape folded his arms, and gave everyone a look that
dared them to offer to shake.

“I guess that’s it then. Meeting adjourned.” Harry said, and everyone except McGonagall
disappeared.

“You say this book disappeared six hundred years ago Mr. Potter?”

“Yes Professor.”

“Hmmm. I wonder if Nicolas Flamel had anything to do with that. He was notorious for acquiring
rare books. A pity you can’t ask him if it’s in his collection.”

“His collection?” Harry and Hermione spoke at the same time and then looked at each other. “Of
course!” Hermione cried. “Nicolas Flamel would have been around back then, and would be the most
likely culprit to have that book. Especially since it contained Ancient magic that may have helped
him create the Sorcerer’s Stone.” Hermione smacked her forehead. “I can’t believe I forgot about
Nicolas Flamel!”

“Don’t worry about it Hermione.” Harry said. He looked at McGonagall. “Professor, do you know
where Flamel’s collection is?”

“No, but Professor Dumbledore might. He and Flamel were very close friends.”

“Professor Dumbledore can’t talk, can’t hear, can’t see, and is barely alive, how can we ask
him?” Hermione said.

“I don’t know Hermione, but perhaps his pensieve might be of use. Albus was mentioned in
Flamel’s will, and may have put something regarding that in the pensieve.”

“It won’t hurt to try Hermione. We’ve checked all the books here, and most of those at the
library.” Harry said, noticing the skeptical look on Hermione’s face.

“Where is the pensieve Professor?” Hermione asked.

McGonagall drummed her fingers on the desk. “The last time I saw it, it was in the Headmaster’s
office. It should still be there, unless Albus took it with him.”

“Okay, Hermione you go with the professor and get the pensieve.” Harry’s expression darkened.
“I’ve got some things to do.”

Hermione looked at Harry, then at McGonagall. “You go ahead without me Professor, I’ll meet you
at your office.”

“Alright Hermione.” McGonagall gave Harry a long look. “It’s nice to know that you’re trying to
help Albus Harry. I do hope you succeed.”

Hermione waited until the Headmistress was gone, then she fixed Harry with a worried eye.
“What’s wrong Harry?”

“Nothing. I just have to go see a man about a rat.”

Hermione’s eyes went wide. “Harry, you’re not going to see Ron are you?”

“Yeah, I am.”

“Harry no!” Hermione grabbed a hold of his arm. “You know how hot headed he is. Let him come to
you.”

“No. He’s been avoiding me for quite some time now. I want to know why.”

Hermione sighed in resignation. “I can’t talk you out of this can I?”

“No. You can do me a favor though.”

“What’s that?”

“When you go to the Hogwarts, put the books back where they belong. It’s just a simple
levitation spell, and they’ll become visible once they get within four feet of you.”

“I’ll take care of it Harry.”

“Thanks.” Harry leaned in and gave her a quick kiss. “I’ll see you later.”

“Are you bringing him back with you?”

“I don’t know. I hope so, because going on a quest without him feels wrong.”

“I know.” Hermione said. “I just want you to be careful, remember his temper.”

“Oh I will.” Harry promised, striding from the room. He grabbed his cape, fastened it around his
neck, and disappeared. He couldn’t have explained how he knew where Ron lived, he just thought
about his friend and suddenly he was there. He reappeared in a very posh apartment. Harry looked
around in admiration. It seemed that Ron had decided to combine the best that money could buy of
both the Muggle and Wizard worlds. A huge TV dominated one wall, while a surround sound stereo
system occupied another. A large display case sat in a corner, and inside illuminated from several
angles, sat Ron’s Most Valuable Player award. “You’ve done well for yourself.” Harry dropped into a
large leather chair and got comfortable. He entered a state of meditation, and the time flew by.
The next thing he was aware of was the door opening and closing. He opened his eyes to see his old
friend taking off his cloak and hanging it up.

“Hello Ron.”

**To Be Continued**

**Author’s Notes:** Please read and review. I’ll take any kind of constructive criticism. I
**really need** some good constructive criticism. If you like it, tell me why & in detail.
If you don’t like it, tell me why & in extreme detail. I’ll even take flames, **IF** they
are constructive. Remember, the more reviews I get the faster I can get out the other chapters! =
)



4. Chapter 4
------------

**Title:** Harry Potter and The Panacea – Chapter 04
**Author name:** Falcon
**Author email:** falcun_21@yahoo.com
**Category:** Portkey.org
**Sub Category:** Action/Adventure, Romance, Humor
**Keywords:** H/Hr
**Rating:** Graphic R
**Summary:** Two years have gone by since the end of Harry’s final year. Voldemort is dead.
Harry has withdrawn from the wizarding society after defeating Voldemort and graduation from
Hogwarts, but still keeps in contact with Ron & Hermione through owl post and occasional
visits. Ron is a Chudley Cannon. Hermione has been working at Hogwarts since their final year with
all the Professors. Sirius has been acquitted of all charges against him and is the Transfiguration
Professor. Professor McGonagall is the new Headmistress replacing an ill Headmaster Dumbledore and
Flitwick is the Deputy Headmaster. Lupin is reinstated as the DADA Professor after Moody’s
retirement.

**Disclaimer**: All characters belong to JKR, and I ain’t making no money off them. This
story is made up of my own original ideas, and any resemblance to anyone else’s is strictly
coincidental, and unintentional.

**Author’s Note**: This is for all those who want Ron to get what he deserves. Ron
lovers/likers just bear with it.

**Chapter 4**

“Who’s there?” Ron spun, pulling his wand and looking around. It was only then that Harry
realized just how much time had passed. It was very dark in the apartment, and the chair he was
sitting in was in a shadowed corner making him effectively invisible.

“It’s me Ron.”

“Harry?”

Harry wasn’t sure what kind of reaction to expect from Ron, so kept his guard up. “Yeah, it’s
me.”

“What are you doing here?” Ron put away his wand, flipped on the lights, went into the kitchen
and came back with a bottle of fire-whiskey. Harry could smell the perfume and alcohol already
surrounding his best friend, but stayed silent about it. Ron untwisted the cap and took a slug.

“I can’t drop in on a friend?” Harry asked.

“Not unexpected like this.”

“Why not?”

Ron took a long pull off his whiskey and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Because, I
often have people over and it would be very upsetting for them if you just pop in without any
notice.”

“By people, I assume you mean women.”

“Of course I mean women!” Ron said crossly. “What do you think I am?”

“Well, after the way you mooned over Krum in 4th year, I wasn’t sure.” Harry said, grinning and
cutting his eyes sideways at Ron.

“That is NOT funny Harry. That kind of talk could ruin me if it got out.”

“You were kind of obsessed with him, what were we supposed to think?”

“He was my idol Harry. I looked up to him!” Ron said, turning slightly red. “I wasn’t interested
in him any other way.”

“Now, now Ron, denial ain’t just a river in Egypt.” Harry removed his cape and tossed it in the
chair he’d been sitting in. “Loads of sports stars are coming out of the closet these days.”

“Harry. I. Am. Not. Gay.” Ron said slowly through gritted teeth.

“I know,” Harry grinned. “I’m just messing with you.”

“Well, stop it! You never know who might be listening in.” Ron glanced around his apartment with
a strange look on his face. “They’re everywhere,” he whispered.

“Paranoid much?”

“I mean it Harry, I have no privacy. Everyone wants a picture of me, or a piece of my clothing.
Some of them even worship me, like I did Krum. One crazy woman even cut off a lock of my hair!”

“Well, you wanted a life of fame; looks like you got it and all the things that

come with it, wealth, women, and ego.”

“What makes you say that?” asked Ron, shooting him a suspicious look.

Harry shrugged and rubbed his chin. “What, you don’t think I hear things?”

“Hermione talked to you, didn’t she?”

Harry was surprised that Hermione should come up so quickly, but hid his reaction. “Yes, she
did.” He was unprepared for what happened next.

“I knew she’d go running to you. Stay out of it Harry! It’s between me and her and I won’t have
you interfering.”

“What?” Harry didn’t try to disguise the surprise in his voice this time.

“You heard me.” Ron said shortly.

Harry held up a finger. “First off, where Hermione’s welfare is concerned, NOBODY tells me what
to do!”

“She’s my girlfriend Harry.”

“Is that so?”

“We’ve been a couple for some time now.”

“That’s not what she said. She says you’re mistaken about the attention she showed you, and that
she just wants to be friends.”

“That’s a lie! She loves me!”

“As a friend,” Harry stated calmly. “She’s in love with someone else.”

“NO! I don’t accept that!”

“It’s not your decision Ron. It’s hers and hers alone.”

“It’s that guy from the club isn’t it?” Ron snarled. “Little tramp.”

Harry stepped close and glared at him. “You’re a fine one to talk, you as much as admitted
you’ve been seeing other women! And for your information, the guy at the club was ME, and don’t you
ever talk about her like that!”

Ron’s face turned red with fury. “I’ll talk about her any way I please, and you’d do well to get
out of my face!”

“Or what,” Harry asked, a trifle more harshly than he’d intended. He didn’t want to antagonize
his friend, but after all he had been through, he wasn’t about to be threatened.

Ron scowled. “Listen Harry, I know you think you’re something special because you killed
You-Know-Who, but that was magic, and you and I both know that the only way you can defeat me in a
fight is if you use magic. Physically, you’re no match for me.” He took a sip of his fire-whiskey
as if that was the end of the conversation.

Harry struggled to keep his amusement as well as his ire in check. “If it makes you feel better
to think that, go right ahead.”

Ron snorted. “Oh I see, you think just because you’ve grown taller that you can beat me now.” He
laughed harshly and flexed his muscles, giving Harry a good look at the large biceps. “You don’t
want any of this,” he said, indicating himself. “So don’t try unless you’re ready to get hurt.”

“Gotten full of yourself haven’t you Ron?”

“Not really, I’m just confident,” Ron laughed.

Harry sized up his best friend. Ron was about six feet tall, give or take an inch, and Harry
reckoned him to weigh an even 200 pounds, and not an ounce of it was fat. Harry had the advantage
in height and reach, but he was giving up about 25 to 30 pounds. Ron was broad across the shoulders
and thick through the chest. He had put on serious muscle since leaving school, and now looked more
like his brother Charlie. Ron looked tough, and Harry winced when he thought about the power that
must be in those big arms, but there was nothing he could do. Ron’s temper was volatile to say the
least, and his own anger, which had been growing steadily stronger wouldn’t allow him to back down
now.

“It takes more than confidence to win a fight Ron.”

“I- Wait a minute! You were the guy at the club?”

“Yeah,” said Harry, his voice hard and challenging.

“And you said she’s in love with someone else.” Harry could almost see the pieces connecting in
Ron’s mind. “She’s in love with you!”

“Yeah. You wanna make something of it?”

“You bastard, she was supposed to be MINE!” Ron exploded in fury, throwing a wild right hand at
Harry’s head.

Instead of catching the punch as he had at the club, Harry dodged it and grabbed Ron by the
collar. He lifted the shorter man and slammed him hard into the nearest wall.

“That’s the second time you’ve tried to hit me,” said Harry through clenched teeth. “If you
don’t stop that, I’m going to lose my temper.” He pushed his face very close to Ron’s. “Don’t make
me hurt you Ron,” he growled.

“Try it Four Eyes!” Ron snapped, and smashed the bottle over Harry’s head, knocking his glasses
askew and drenching him with whiskey. Harry dropped him, stumbled a few steps and put a hand to his
bleeding head.

“OW!” Harry looked at the blood on his hand and glared at Ron. “I should have known you’d use a
cheap shot.” He straightened his glasses, muttered a spell that made them unbreakable, and tagged
Ron on the jaw with a right. Ron fell back against the wall, and wiped his mouth.

“Is that all you got?” Ron chuckled. “Ginny hits harder than you do.”

“At least I didn’t use a weapon.” Harry sneered. “Care to try again?”

Ron smiled. “I’m going to enjoy this.”

“Let’s see what you got.” Harry smirked.

“You’re awfully cocky for a guy about to get his arse handed to him.” Ron remarked.

“Bring it on.” Harry motioned for Ron to attack.

Ron attacked quickly, punching hard with both hands, and Harry was hard pressed to defend
himself. He danced sideways, ducking and weaving, somehow managing to evade every punch and
infuriating his opponent.

“Stand still!” Ron growled, trying to hit him again.

“Whatsa matter Ronniekins? Having trouble hitting me?” Harry taunted.

“I’LL SHOW YOU RONNIEKINS!” Ron screamed and launched a much more violent attack.

Harry blocked first one haymaker then another with his forearms, and then threw a quick left jab
that mashed Ron’s lips back against his teeth. The redhead countered with a thunderous right that
caught Harry on the temple. Harry reeled from the blow, but lashed out with one long leg and kicked
Ron in the knee. Weasley cried out, and dropped to the floor clutching his leg.

“Arghhhhh! God damn it Harry! What are you trying to do, break my fuckin’ leg?”

“Yeah!” Harry moved forward, but Ron’s other leg shot out and caught him right above his own
knee. Harry saw it coming, and bent his leg to prevent his knee getting snapped. He growled and
grabbed Ron by the shirt front and lifted him to his feet.

“That was dirty Ron.”

“Yeah, well you know…you do what you have to.” Ron grinned, and slammed his heel down on Harry’s
toes. Harry retaliated with a palm thrust to Ron’s chest that knocked the other man backward
several feet. Ron gave him an amazed look, and then charged him, throwing a multitude of punches.
Harry managed to slip a high left, but caught a hard right on the cheekbone that made bells go off
inside his head and made him regret his earlier taunts. Harry realized rather belatedly that Ron
was very quick, and could hit very, very hard. He dodged another left, but got another nasty shot
to the head from the same right. Harry grinned ruefully, he had been right; Ron was most definitely
capable of putting up a good fight.

Harry saw the left start, but this time he was ready for the follow up right and dodged first
the left then the right but Ron changed the angle of his right arm at the last minute and clipped
Harry with his elbow. Harry clenched his teeth against the pain and pulverized Ron’s lips with a
stiff left. He threw another left, but the redhead countered with an uppercut to his ribs that
stood him on his tiptoes and left him gasping for air.

Trying to get some breathing room, Harry stabbed an overhand right that broke Ron’s nose, and
doused the front of the man’s shirt in blood. He followed the right with a left to the stomach, and
when Weasley bent over, Harry dropped his palm to the back of Ron’s head and forced it downwards to
meet his rising knee. After that little maneuver the fight got bad.

Harry spun around behind the dazed Ron and slammed his elbow into the back of Weasley’s neck,
and Weasley hit the floor on his knees. Harry launched a toe kick into Ron’s gut, but Weasley
blocked it and punched Harry straight in the balls. Harry grunted and grabbed his crotch, he
staggered backwards, but Ron grabbed the front of his shirt and heaved him across the room. Harry
was launched forward by Ron’s throw, and landed hard on the dining table, its edge slamming into
his stomach. He felt Ron grab the back of his shirt, and heard it rip as Ron yanked him off the
table. Harry caught Ron with a back-fist, and as Weasley was falling, tried a snap kick to Ron’s
midsection. His foot was snagged, and Ron used the caught limb to spin him around. The next thing
Harry felt was Ron’s shoulder striking him in the back as the man propelled him face-first into
another wall.

Harry threw up his arms to try to cushion the blow, and partially succeeded. His forehead struck
the wall hard enough to make his eyes cross, but not enough to knock him out. He shoved away from
the wall, and jammed his elbow into Ron’s already abused nose. He grunted in pain when Ron slammed
him against the wall, held him in place with one hand and hammered his kidneys with the other.
Harry fought to turn around and a hard right to his eye spun him, he doubled over clutching his
head, and then whipped an uppercut from his toes into Ron’s stomach. Weasley fell back gasping, and
Harry watched him warily.

“You had enough?” Harry asked.

“I’m just getting warmed up!” Ron roared.

The redhead put up his fists in the classic boxer’s stance, while Harry assumed a more relaxed
posture. They closed, and Harry jabbed a quick right to Ron’s left eye. He caught a left hook from
Ron that caused his right ear to explode in pain, and he stumbled backward. Harry watched for an
opening, and got it when Ron pressed his advantage. Weasley threw a wide right and Harry grabbed
the arm and used it to hurl Ron across the room. Ron hit the stereo hard, shattering the casing and
knocking over the speakers.

Harry advanced on the prone man, grabbed him by the collar and yanked him to his feet. He
hammered Ron in the ribs, and got elbowed in the nose. Harry howled in pain, threw Ron backwards,
and the man tripped over the coffee table landing hard on his back. Harry leaned over to grab him,
and Weasley kicked him in the chest with both feet.

Harry flew backward like he’d been kicked by a mule and shattered the display case. The glass
sliced into his back and arms, but he ignored it. Harry pushed himself from the ruined case and met
Ron in the middle of the room. He grabbed Weasley and slammed him face first into the TV. Ron
roared and swept Harry’s legs out from under him. Harry hit the floor on his back, and looked up in
time to see Ron push the TV over on top of him. Harry rolled out of the way to avoid being crushed,
and Ron kicked him in the head.

Ron grabbed Harry’s hair and slammed his head on the floor repeatedly. Punch drunk, Harry sank
his elbow into Ron’s gut, shoved him to the floor and scrambled to his feet. He stood there, one
eye swollen shut, his shirt ripped and torn, and wiped the blood from his broken nose. He watched
his opponent rise and do the same. Ron worked his jaw and spat out a mouthful of blood. Harry
savagely tore off his ruined shirt and popped his neck. He eyed Ron and cracked his knuckles.

“Ready for the pain?” Harry snarled.

“Don’t sing it Harry, bring it!” Weasley growled and hurled himself at Harry, punching wildly.
Harry stabbed a straight right to Ron’s cheekbone, splitting the skin. He knew Ron was hitting him,
but he was intent on putting the redhead down. He sent another right hand down the same track, and
opened Ron’s split cheek wider. A hard left made Harry see stars, and he slammed a right uppercut
to the other man’s ribs. He followed it with another right to the ribs, then feinted a left and
clobbered Ron with a right hook. Weasley staggered, and Harry launched a spinning back kick at his
friend’s head. It caught Ron and knocked him sprawling across the sofa. Harry cocked his fist, and
when Ron stood up he rolled his shoulder and put all his weight behind a straight right. It caught
the other man full on the chin, Ron’s eyes rolled back into his head and he folded like a busted
flush.

Harry rubbed his skinned knuckles and went into the kitchen. He splashed water on his face, and
then filled a pot. He conjured two icepack and went back to the living room, carrying the packs in
one hand and the pot in the other. He dumped the water right in Ron’s face, and the redhead sat up
quickly, spitting and spluttering.

“Gah! Whazzat?” Ron blinked rapidly, cradled his head in his hands, and groaned. “Owwww. You
broke my noze Harry.”

Harry handed Ron one of the icepacks, held the other to his own swollen features, and dropped
down on the floor beside him. “Yeah, you broke mine too.”

“You look like I feel,” said Ron, taking the icepack and applying it to his black eye.

“Sorry. I didn’t come here to fight you. I just wanted to clear the air between you and
Hermione.”

“It’s not fair you know.” Ron mumbled through swollen lips.

“What’s not?”

“You getting her. You got everything else, she was the one thing that I was supposed to get and
you weren’t.”

Harry moved his icepack and stared at Ron like he had lost his mind. “I got everything alright.
My parents were killed, the people that raised me treated me like a slave, and my life was in
constant peril for seven years. What problems did you have? Oh yeah, you were poor,” he snorted. “I
may have had money, but it was to provide for my education. Money can’t buy a family Ron, and
that’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

“I know. It can’t buy happiness either.” Ron’s voice was quiet.

“I never thought I’d hear *YOU* say something like that.”

Ron massaged his jaw. “I’ve learned a lot in the past few months. I’m starting to see what you
meant, being famous is a pain.”

“Took you long enough,” Harry said, but then reconsidered his words. “I’m sorry, that was
uncalled for.”

“No, it was called for. I’ve been a total asshole Harry. I wanted Hermione because I thought she
liked me, and then I just wanted her to keep you from having her. I’ve treated her so badly. Do you
think she’ll forgive me?” Ron sounded hopeful.

“Sure. Once she sees that you’re over your little obsession with her. Are you going to be
alright with me and her?” Harry asked.

“Yeah,” Ron ran his hands through his hair. “I don’t even know what I saw in her, she’s not my
type and she’s not even that attractive.”

“She is to me.” Harry said quietly.

“Well, she is attractive, but…. It’s just that my tastes run more towards…” Ron made a motion
with his hands, and Harry grinned.

“Yeah, I know. I saw that girl at the club.”

Ron blushed, turning as red as his hair. “Oh yeah, her. Well, pretty much every girl I’ve been
with was like her, easy on the eyes, but not much upstairs.” He grinned sheepishly. “You know me…
I’m more a body man than a mind man. If they look good, I don’t care how dumb they are.”

“Surface over substance huh?”

“Yeah, I don’t like for a girl to be too smart, Hermione always intimidated me with her
intelligence. I don’t like that. She was always so…so…” Ron struggled to find the word.

“What?”

“Haughty towards me,” Ron said finally.

“Oooh, good word usage.”

“Thanks.”

“As you were saying,” Harry prompted.

“Right, I guess deep down I always knew she preferred you. She never talked down to you like she
did me. She treated you like an equal. I see that now. I’m glad you two have gotten together, and
I’m not mad, because even while I was thinking of her as my girlfriend, I was sleeping with other
women. So it’s a good thing I wasn’t dating her, because then I would have been cheating on her,
and she doesn’t deserve that at all.

Ron buried his head in his hands. “I’ve really screwed up Harry. I’ve been living the wild life,
money, sex, booze, you name it, and the whole time I was telling myself that this is what I always
wanted. But it’s not.” He looked up, misery etched into his features. “I don’t have any friends
here Harry, at least none that I can trust. I don’t know if they like me for me, or my fame, and
it’s driving me nuts. I don’t know how you dealt with as well as you did.”

“I had good friends to keep me grounded,” Harry said, shrugging his shoulders. “That’s all it
takes.”

“Whatever happened to us Harry?” Ron asked. “We used to be so close.”

“I don’t know.” Harry gingerly felt his swollen eye. “There were indicators going back as far as
4th year.”

“If you say so Harry,” Ron grinned, “I’ve taken quite a few bludgers to the head since then, so
my memory might not be very reliable.”

Harry laughed. “How bad were they damaged?”

“Very funny, you know how much those things hurt.”

“Yeah, I do.” Harry said. He stood up and offered Ron a hand. “We okay?”

Ron took his hand and stood up as well. “Yeah, we’re okay.” They embraced, clapping each other
on the back.

“I’ve missed you buddy.” Harry said, stepping back.

“I’ve missed you too,” Ron said. “Can we just pretend that the last few years never
happened?”

“I’d love to man, but can’t. Too much has happened that seems to be leading up to something even
bigger. I’m going to need your help once I’ve gotten all the information together. Are you in?”

“Trouble?”

“That’s an understatement.”

“You-Know-Who type trouble?” asked Ron, his voice held the slightest hint of fear.

“Yeah.”

“Not again! What is it this time?” Ron asked, resigned to the inevitable.

“I’ll fill you in when we’ve gotten the rest of the information gathered.” Harry grinned.
“You’re going to be my Ace-in-the-hole.”

“Cool!” Ron went into the kitchen and came back with two butterbeers. He handed one to Harry,
and they sat down at the table. Ron leaned his elbows on the table, and Harry slouched in his
seat.

“Why didn’t you return my owls?” Harry asked.

“Return *your* owls! Why didn’t you return mine?” Ron exclaimed.

Harry frowned. “Something is not right here Ron. I’ve owled you at least twice a week since I
left at graduation.”

“You think someone has been stopping my mail?”

“It’s the only thing that makes sense.” Harry sat up straight. “Whom does your mail go
through?”

“Everything I get goes straight to the team P.R. Agent.”

“Do you trust him?”

Ron grinned, “Her actually, and I guess I trust her. I’ve slept with her.”

“Quite the lady killer, huh?”

Ron shrugged, “Well, you know, if they’re offering.”

“Aren’t you worried about paternity suits?”

“Nah…I’m careful.”

“You’d better be.” Harry downed his drink and stood up. “Look, I have to be getting back.
Hermione is probably worried sick thinking we killed each other or something.”

Ron grinned and punched him in the shoulder. “Well, it wasn’t from lack of trying was it?”

“Nope,” Harry grinned back.

Ron looked Harry up and down. “You look like shit Harry.”

“I’m sure I do. I feel that way too.”

“Want to borrow a shirt?”

“Nah, I’m good.”

“You sure? You’re cut up pretty good.”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” said Harry. “They’re not that deep and the bleeding has mostly stopped. Sorry
about the TV by the way.”

“No problem, I never watched it anyway. I don’t see the attraction Muggles have for such
devices.”

“You would if you’d been raised around them.”

“I’m sure I would. Sure I can’t get you a shirt? Or at least some bandages?”

“Don’t worry about me, Hermione will patch me up when I get home.”

“Tell her I said ‘hi’, and that I’m extremely sorry for the way I treated her,” Ron said, his
tone heavy with sincerity. “And that I hope we can be friends again.”

“Alright, I’ll tell her. Take it easy Ron.”

“You too Harry.”

Harry grabbed his cape from the recliner. “Let me fix this place before I leave.” He waved his
hand, and the apartment and Ron were restored to perfect condition. “Oh yeah, I almost forgot, you
may be getting a brother-in-law.”

“Wow!” said Ron, feeling his face and looking around at his flat. His face fell when Harry’s
words finally registered. “A brother – in – law? Really? Which one of my brothers turned gay on me,
and who are they marrying?”

“Not your brothers Ron… Ginny.”

“Ginny? Who in their right mind would want to marry her? She’s just like Mum, and I can’t
imagine anyone insane enough to find that attractive.” Ron thought a moment. “Well, besides Dad
that is. Who’s the unlucky guy?”

“Draco Malfoy.”

“WHAT?” Ron shouted. “Ginny and that…that…MALFOY! I can’t believe her, my own flesh and blood
consorting with filth like him!” Ron raked a hand through his short, stylish hair savagely. “After
everything that slimy no good git has said and done, she’s dating him. Oh God, wait till I get my
hands on him! I’ll pop him like the oily, white headed little pimple he is!” Ron threw his bottle
against the wall where it shattered. He gave Harry a plaintive look. “Where did I go wrong with her
Harry? Didn’t I do everything to show her how worthless that scumbag is?”

“Yep, and Ron, keep it under your hat, but I think he may be using her to resurrect
Voldemort.”

“Don’t say his name!”

“Ron, I am not about to go around calling that idiot ‘You-Know-Who.’ He is and always will be
Voldemort, there’s no use in being scared to call him that.”

“Fine, you call him what you want, I’m sticking with ‘You-Know-Who’.” Ron frowned suddenly. “You
say Malfoy may be using my sister?”

“Yeah.”

“So she may not be in control of herself, right? There may still be hope for her.” Ron said
eagerly.

“It’s entirely possible. I’ve got Bill looking into it, so you steer clear.” Harry gave Ron a
hard look. “Alright?”

“Yeah, alright.” Ron grumbled.

“I mean it Ron, stay out of it, I don’t want Malfoy getting wind of anything.” Harry warned.

“Okay, I’ll stay out of it.”

“Good, I’ll let you know when and where we need you. Until then, keep up the appearance of being
mad at me and Hermione. Just in case somebody’s spying on you,” said Harry, winking.

“Got it, Ron said smiling. “It’s good to be working with you again Harry. Just like old times
huh?”

“Just like old times,” Harry agreed, a huge grin splitting his features. He waved and the air
around him shimmered. He reappeared in his study seconds later. He checked his watch and saw that
the time was past 8 o’clock; Harry was mildly surprised that Hermione wasn’t pacing a trench in the
floor waiting for his return. He threw his cape on the sofa and stepped into the hallway. The sound
of running water caught his attention, and the idea of a hot shower was so appealing that he
commenced to strip right there in the hall. He opened the door and stepped into the steamy
bathroom, he laid his glasses on the sink and eased over to the shower. He squinted, trying to make
out Hermione’s form through the steamed glass and his incredibly poor eyesight. All he could see
was a big pink blur in front of him, so he figured she wouldn’t get too upset if he joined her.
Besides, he was too tired and sore after his fight with Ron to really care. The sound of the shower
masked that of the door opening, and he stepped inside nearly giving Hermione a heart attack when
she turned around.

“HARRY! What are you doing in here? GET OUT!” Hermione struggled to cover herself.

“I can’t see you, and I’m too tired to do anything even remotely strenuous.”

“Harry! You’re hurt!” Hermione grabbed his head and tried to examine him, but he pushed her
hands away.

“Yeah, I’ll tell you all about it later. Bathe first, then heal.”

“Okay,” Hermione said, grabbing a wash - cloth and soaping it up. “I have to say that I’m more
than a little uncomfortable with this Harry.”

“I’m sorry. But remember what I said about using my power? If I heal myself it’s going to take a
lot of my strength and I don’t have it to spare right now. So please do this for me.”

“Alright, but you owe me big - time.”

“What are you complaining about? You’re the one getting the free show. I can’t even tell what
you look like.”

“True.” Hermione grew quiet, and Harry wondered what was going on in her head.

“What are you doing?” He asked, beginning to feel self conscious.

“Enjoying the view,” Hermione said, and Harry could hear the smile in her voice.

“That’s not funny, not to mention unfair.”

“You used to watch me when we were at school, turnabouts is fair play.”

“I only watched you a few times.”

“You said you watched from 5th all the way to 7th year!”

“I did, just not every night. I was exaggerating when I said that.”

“Harry Potter!”

“Look, can we continue this later? I really need to clean up, heal up, and rest up.”

“This is not over Harry.” Hermione promised, running the cloth over his chest and shoulders. The
soap cut through the dried blood and found every nick, scratch, cut, scrape, and gash inflicted by
his battle with Ron. Hermione scrubbed his stomach, and back then handed the cloth to him for the
more personal areas.

“All yours. I’ll be waiting for you in your room when you get out.” She opened the door and
stepped out, leaving Harry to contemplate the rapidly cooling water.

Harry quickly finished bathing, stepped out of the shower and promptly stubbed his toe. He
cursed, wrapped a towel around his waist, and headed for his room. He entered his bedroom to find
Hermione wearing a robe and sitting on his bed with a pensieve cradled in her hands. She looked up
when he walked in, set the pensieve aside, and leaped off the bed. She pushed him to a sitting
position, and inspected his injuries.

“Did Ron do this when you told him about us?”

Harry grinned. “Yeah, and if you think I look bad, you should see him.”

Hermione tutted impatiently, “Honestly Harry. I do hope you didn’t hurt each other too bad.” She
tilted his head up and examined his black eye. “This looks like it hurts.”

“Yeah, it does,” Harry grimaced when she pressed just a trifle too hard.

“Sorry.” Hermione winced in sympathy. “I hate to ask this, but how did it go? Aside from the
obvious fight I mean.”

“Pretty good actually, he was okay with everything…after we beat the hell out of each other that
is,” Harry added ruefully. “He sends his apologies by the way.”

“Great. It’s about time he apologized for something.” Hermione said bitterly.

“Now, now Hermione, be nice. You know being a bitch doesn’t suit you.” Harry chided.

“Darn, and I try so hard.” She smiled suddenly. “Was Ron injured so bad that he had to go to a
Mediwizard for his injuries?”

“Nope, I whooshed them away.”

“Why didn’t you do the same to your own?”

“Pumpkin, half the fun of having a girlfriend is having her fuss over you when you get hurt.” He
grinned.

“Well, if that’s the criteria for being a girlfriend, then I’ve been yours since 1st year.”

“That’s what Ron said, that you’ve always been mine or preferred me. He just didn’t want to
accept it. He felt that since I got everything else in life, he deserved you. Then he insulted you,
but not in a mean spirited way.”

“Is he going to help?”

“Yeah, he was very anxious to be friends again.” Harry frowned. “He’s been miserable without
us.”

“Well, I’m glad he’s come to his senses.”

“Do you forgive him?”

“Yes. As long as he doesn’t bring it up, neither will I.” She inspected the gash Harry had
gotten from the whiskey bottle and tutted under her breath.

“That’s fair, now, about my injuries,” Harry said.

“Oh poor baby, let me kiss your boo boos away.”

Harry smirked. “Just heal me, and don’t stop with just the visible wounds, make it a full body
repair spell.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I have aches and pains in places you can’t reach,” said Harry. “Also, can you do
something about my eyes? I had forgotten how big a pain wearing glasses was.”

“You can’t fix them yourself?”

“No, and I’m not sure why. I think it has something to do with Voldemort coming back. You can
use my power to fix them, but I can’t.” Harry took her hand and placed it on his forehead. “Heal
the body first, and then I’ll help you fix my sight.”

“Alright Harry.” Hermione took her wand from the pocket of her robe and tapped Harry’s head
three times. She muttered the healing spell, and his wounds closed and his energy returned.

“Now the eyes,” Harry moved her hand down over his eyes and covered it with his own.
“Concentrate on the healing spell, and I’ll channel my power through you. Keep repeating the spell
and it should work…I hope.”

“Okay Harry.” Hermione started chanting the spell under her breath.

Harry felt her hand grow warm under his, and his eyes started to tingle pleasantly.

“Ahh,” he sighed, “it’s working.” A few moments later he let go of Hermione’s hand and smiled
broadly. “Much better! Thank you.”

“Is that all I get?” Hermione asked. She leaned down and looked him in the eye, a mischievous
grin playing about her lips.

Harry’s now much keener eyesight awarded him a view of cleavage, and he answered her playful
grin with a wicked one. “I’m sure I can think of something that would show my gratitude.”

“I’ll bet you can,” Hermione said, noticing where he was looking, “and as much as I’d like to
explore those possibilities, we simply must stop torturing ourselves.” She tugged her robe
closed.

“I know, but it is fun.” Harry pulled her down onto his lap and squeezed her bottom. He
instantly regretted his action as it caused certain parts of his body to respond to the pressure
caused by her firm behind. And since he was only wearing a towel, he knew she was as aware as he
was. He covered his embarrassment by rubbing her thigh.

“It’s nice to have a distraction every now and then.”

“I agree,” Hermione said, slapping at his roaming hands. “However we should try to keep our
senses and concentrate on the problems at hand.”

“Alright, alright,” Harry looked at the pensieve setting on the side of the bed and indicated it
with a nod of his head. “Mission accomplished I see.”

“Yes, it was still in the Headmaster’s office just as McGonagall said.”

“Did you find anything of interest in there?”

“I’ve been waiting for you to get home.”

“Oh. Well, there’s no sense wasting any more time. Let’s check it out.”

“Aren’t you going to get dressed first?”

“Why? They won’t be able to see me, and you already have, so where’s the problem?”

“I give up. If you want to run around Dumbledore’s memories wearing nothing but a towel, then be
my guest.”

“You’re only wearing a robe,” said Harry, but Hermione’s expression shut him up. “Fine, I’ll
throw something on.” Harry stood up quickly, unseating her and headed for his dresser. He grabbed a
pair of briefs and sweats and pulled them on right in front of her. He snagged a shirt off the bed,
yanked it on and looked at her.

“Happy now?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Let’s get this over with so I can get some sleep.” Harry said, sitting back down and staring
into the bowl. Hermione sat next to him and placed her head beside his. They stared for a good few
minutes, moving their heads closer and closer until their noses touched the silvery liquid inside.
Harry’s bedroom lurched, and they fell forward into the bowl.

**To Be Continued**

**Author’s Notes:** Please read and review. I’ll take any kind of constructive criticism. I
**really need** some good constructive criticism. If you like it, tell me why & in detail.
If you don’t like it, tell me why & in extreme detail. I’ll even take flames, **IF** they
are constructive. Remember, the more reviews I get the faster I can get out the other chapters! =
)



5. Chapter 5
------------

**Chapter 5**

Several hours passed before Harry and Hermione emerged from the pensieve. To say that Harry was
in a foul mood would have been an understatement.

“Well THAT was a colossal waste of time!” Harry snapped.

“Calm down Harry,” Hermione placed a hand on Harry’s arm. “We did learn one thing of
importance.”

Harry sniggered nastily, “Yeah, only the person whose memories are in the pensieve has access to
all of them.”

“Well, at least now we know that, and can search elsewhere for the book.”

“I don’t want to search elsewhere! I wanted to find the damn thing and get it over with!”

Hermione watched him pace back and forth, one eyebrow arched in annoyance.

“Harry, stop it! This is no time to throw a tantrum!”

Harry closed his eyes, took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “I’m sorry. I’m just a tad
disappointed.”

“I understand,” Hermione said softly, and wrapped her arms around his waist. “You’ve been at
this for so long. I can see where you’d jump at the chance to end it quickly. You pinned all your
hopes on the pensieve, and it’s fallen through.”

“Yeah, and it really irritates me, because I should have known better!”

“Harry, there was no way for you to foresee this.”

“Sure there was, but it would have involved me removing my head from my ass.”

“Harry, you’re being far too hard on yourself.”

“I’m going to bed,” Harry said shortly.

“Harry, we have to talk about this! You can’t let it get you down!” Hermione insisted.

“I’m fine. I just need a good night’s sleep, and I’ll deal with everything tomorrow.”

“Are you sure?” Hermione asked, worry evident in her voice.

“Yeah, don’t worry about me,” He reassured here. “You go on to bed too. I’ll see you in the
morning.”

“Okay,” she said hesitantly.

Harry grinned, “I mean it. I’m fine, go get some sleep.”

“Okay, night,” Hermione smiled, gave him a quick peck on the lips and left the room.

Harry watched her walk away, and then closed the door, shaking his head. He yanked off his shirt
and flopped on the bed. He rested his head on his folded arms and closed his eyes. His mind
wondered over several topics before succumbing to blissful sleep.

*It was a large room, dimly lit by five candles arranged in a pentagram. Two men knelt in the
center of the candles, their heads bowed before a shrouded figure. The larger man lifted his head
and spoke.*

*“Master, why have you summoned us?”*

*The shrouded figure turned its back on the men and faced into the darkest corner of the room.
An intense green light shone from the hood onto the wall. Words formed but were unreadable to
Harry’s dreaming mind, and the men looked at one another, for the words to them were crystal
clear.*

*“Master, you must be patient. These things cannot be rushed or complications could
arise.”*

*The voice that came from the figure was icy cold and grating, like fingernails on a
chalkboard, and the two men winced.*

*“Patience I have, Lucius, it is a body that I lack.”*

*“Of course, Master. We are preparing the potion which will return your full power upon your
birth, but…”*

*“I am aware of the difficulties you face, Lucius.” The figure turned to the smaller man.
“However, YOU, Draco begin to try my patience. What is causing the delay?”*

*Draco looked up, “Master, the girl wishes to wait till we are married.”*

*“I know that, Draco. Why hasn’t the ceremony been performed already?”*

*Draco quailed under the faceless gaze of his master. “I am sorry Master…I…I…I have been
reluctant to tell the girl’s parents because then I would be forced to lower myself in order to
associate with them on a social level.”*

*Lucius muttered something under his breath and the dark figure’s glowing countenance fell on
Draco with the force of an anvil.*

*“You place your petty concerns above ME?” The figure’s voice had lowered until it was barely
audible.*

*Draco turned as white as his hair. “Of course not, Master! I…I…I merely meant to say
that…”*

*“SILENCE!”*

*Lucius and Draco both jumped back but found themselves floating closer to the dark figure. “I
have given you time enough,” the dark figure stared at Draco, then turned to the elder Malfoy.
“Lucius, you will insure that I do not have to reprimand this boy again.” The dark one turned back
to Draco. “If I do, the consequences will be…severe.” A slender hand reached out and caressed
Draco’s cheek for a moment, before digging the thumbnail cruelly into the nerve cluster around the
cheekbone, and making the young man scream in pain. “I trust I’ve made myself clear.”*

*Draco held himself absolutely still, waiting for the dark figure to release him. He nodded
slowly, unable to speak.*

*“Yes, Master,” Lucius said.*

*“Good. You please me, Lucius. If your son cannot accomplish the task I set for him, you will
provide me with life in his stead.”*

*“But, Master!” Draco cried. “The girl is mine!”*

*“You forget yourself, Draco,” the dark one’s voice held a note of amusement. “You shall have
the girl, but if you fail…”*

*“I shall not fail you, Master.”*

*The dark one stepped back into the shadows, knelt down, then the cloak fell forward to the
floor. Draco stood up and went to the cloak. He knelt down and took the hood in his hand. He lifted
it, and looked at what was on the floor.”*

Harry awoke with a start, his sheets soaked with sweat. He pushed wet hair out of his eyes and
sat up. That had been a weird dream, and yet it had seemed impossibly real. This was the fifth time
in a row that it had happened. Five times since he and Hermione had returned from their fruitless
search in Dumbledore’s pensieve. He got out of bed and stretched his back. He did not like thinking
about what he had heard and seen, and even as he thought about it, the specific details were
becoming hard to recall, just as they always did. He lay back down and tried to get comfortable
again. He concentrated on the dream, but the images would not come, not that he really expected
this time to be any different. Giving up, Harry rolled over on his stomach, punched his pillow a
few times then buried his head in his arms. He lay there for several minutes, trying to fall back
to sleep, but sleep was not to be found. He considered whipping up a sleeping draught, but did not
like relying on magic to solve all his problems the way most magic folk did. He may have been born
a wizard, but he had been raised as a Muggle, and even though he had suffered during his childhood,
he found himself thanking God that he had had that time in which to grow tough. He smiled when he
thought about how horrified the Dursleys would be to know that he appreciated the way they had
treated him. He finally fell asleep with that happy thought in his head.

Harry woke up the next day a few minutes before noon. He sat up and stared at the clock, shocked
that he had slept so late. He climbed out of bed and headed for the shower. He came out several
minutes later, towelling his hair dry. He tossed the damp towels on the floor and got dressed. He
grabbed a short length of leather off the dresser and tied his still damp hair back in a ponytail.
It occurred to him that he had not heard anything out of Hermione, so he made his way to her room.
He knocked lightly on the door, but she did not answer.

“Hermione are you in there?” Harry called softly. He opened the door and peeked in.

Hermione was sprawled across the bed on her stomach. She had one leg curled up sticking out from
under the covers, and her arms were wrapped around the spare pillow. She moaned and mumbled in her
sleep, muttering ‘*Harry*’ a few times before burying her face into the pillow in her arms,
and becoming silent. Harry stood there watching her for a moment, contemplating whether to wake her
or not. He finally decided to just let her sleep, and left the room.

Harry went into the kitchen, and started coffee. It was a habit he had acquired in America and
he found the taste more to his liking than the usual British tea. He fixed himself a cup, and set
about preparing breakfast. He scrambled eggs, made toast, and fried sausage. He fixed a second cup
of coffee, placed everything on a tray, covered it with a napkin and carried it to Hermione’s room.
He opened the door with a wave of his finger, and went inside. He stood a safe distance away from
the bed, and called Hermione’s name loudly.

Hermione sat up quickly, one hand streaking for her wand and the other yanking the covers up to
her chin, she stared up at him.

“Harry! What are you doing in here?”

Harry indicated the covered tray in his arms with a nod of his head. “I made breakfast,” he
said, smiling.

“You did? You’re so sweet!” Hermione smoothed the covers and Harry set the tray in front of her
and seated himself on the edge of the bed.

“I hope you like it,” Harry said a trifle nervously. “I haven’t done this in quite a while and
could be a tad rusty.”

Harry watched as Hermione gave the eggs on her fork an apprehensive glance, swallowed audibly,
and then stuck them in her mouth, chewing carefully. He hoped that everything was up to par. At one
time, he had been very good in the kitchen, but years of living at Hogwarts and then running around
the world with Sirius had been detrimental to his culinary skills.

“How is it?” he asked.

“They’re very good, Harry,” Hermione gave him an impish grin. “Maybe you should do this every
morning.”

“Is that a proposal?” Harry asked smiling and sipping his coffee.

Hermione dropped her fork, and turned bright red. “I…I…I didn’t mean it like that!”

Harry smiled softly. “I know.”

Hermione slapped him on the arm. “Don’t tease me, Harry. You know I hate to be teased.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry said, and pushed a piece of toast toward her. “You better eat everything on
your plate, or you’ll hurt my feelings,” he said pouting.

“I wouldn’t want to do that,” said Hermione. She used her fork to cut one of the sausages.
“Bite?” she asked.

“Thanks.” He took the proffered piece of sausage and chewed thoughtfully. His mind wandered back
to his half remembered dream. The specifics eluded him, but he was vaguely aware that it had
something to do with the Malfoys. He was attempting to recall what had happened when Hermione broke
into his thoughts.

“All done,” said Hermione holding up her empty plate and smiling. “It was delicious.”

Harry took the dishes and set them on the tray. “I’ll run these to the kitchen, you get dressed
so we can study on what to do about that blasted book.”

Hermione slid out of bed, turned her back to him and pulled her night gown over her head. She
looked back over her shoulder, smiled, and playfully tossed the silky garment onto his head.

Harry gathered the material in his hands, and inhaled her scent, burying his face into the
softness. Opening his eyes, he laid the gown on the bed, gathered the tray and left the room. He
dropped the dishes and tray off at the kitchen, grabbed a soda from the fridge and went to his
study. He sat down behind his desk, laced his fingers behind his head, and propped up his feet.
Harry turned his thoughts towards their wasted foray into Dumbledore’s memories. He had been sure
that the answer to their problem laid somewhere in Dumbledore’s pensieve, but they had come up
empty. He grabbed his bottle of soda off the desk, opened it and took a swig.

Harry stared at the liquid in the bottle, his mind racing, trying desperately to come up with
some way to find the missing book. Their library search had been fruitless, and the pensieve a
bust. He was running out of ideas, and it was starting to get to him. His hand tightened on the
bottle, and he heard the glass creak under the pressure. He set it back down to keep from
accidentally shattering it, and got up to pace. He had made three circuits by the time Hermione
entered the room.
“I got nothing,” Harry said, before Hermione had the chance to speak. “Can you think of any spell,
charm or incantation that might help us?”

Hermione took a seat next to his desk, leaned back and chewed her bottom lip in thought. “There
*are* locator spells, but you have to know specifically *what* you’re looking for, a
general idea or vague description won’t work, plus you have to know where you last had it.”

“That sucks. Maybe if we modified a locator spell, and I boosted it?”

Hermione shook her head, “Nuh-uh, it doesn’t work that way, Harry.”

Harry resumed pacing, one wild idea after another flitting through his head. He thought about
everything they had tried, and some of the things they had not. His mind kept returning to one in
particular. He was hesitant to speak it aloud, but he needed another point of view before making a
decision. “Hermione,” he said, strolling over to his desk and taking a drink from his soda. “What
about Dumbledore?”

“What about him?”

“Could we…I don’t know, maybe temporarily heal him?”

“How, we searched high and low for any spell that could reverse the effects, and so far we’ve
come up empty.”

“Not a spell Hermione, I mean boosting his immune system or increasing his power enough that it
pushes the curse back far enough for a simple healing spell to bring back his hearing.”

“I don’t think so, Harry, that curse is very, very powerful.”

“So am I.”

“I know that, Harry, but are you powerful enough to repair all the damage, or just enough to
make him coherent? If you can only heal him a little bit then he’ll have to go through all that
pain again.”

“I know that!” Harry started pacing again, his thoughts coming together. He spoke to himself as
he paced; completely forgetting Hermione was there. “I can transfer enough power to bring him
around, and heal his deafness, and then I can alter the spell and use it to hold the curse off long
enough to get the information, and then I can turn it into a numbing charm, that way he won’t feel
the pain as the curse takes effect again.”

Hermione jumped up alarmed. “Harry you can’t! If you give him that much of your power, you’ll
drain yourself!”

Harry shook his head. “It can’t be helped, Pumpkin.”

“Please reconsider this, Harry.”

“I have.”

“No. I can’t let you.”

“You can’t stop me either.”

“I know…Harry, just give me a second to explain.” Hermione thought a moment, and then looked
into his eyes. “There’s no way I’m letting you take this on alone, Harry,” she stated firmly. “I’ll
get the information from him, and you deal with the curse.”

Harry brightened. “That makes it loads easier on me, I’ll only have to channel enough energy
into him to revive him, and then hold the curse off long enough for you to heal his hearing, and
ask the question.” He looked sideways at Hermione. “If you hurry, it should only cost me as much
power as it takes to levitate this house.”

Hermione looked unconvinced. “That’s still a lot of power to transfer.”

Harry nodded, “Yeah, it’s a lot, but I can do it. I know I can.” He took Hermione hand and
looked into her eyes. “It’s a risky proposition, but it’s all we have. We’re out of options.”

“Can you give me a few more days to think of something?” Hermione asked softly. “If I can’t come
up with anything, then we try your idea.”

Harry xgrinnedx raised an eyebrow, “How many is ‘a few’?”

“Give me a week, two at the most, I’ll figure something out, I promise,” her voice was full of
determination.

“So you want me to leave this all to you for the next week?” she nodded and he sighed, “What am
I supposed to do during that time?”

“You train. Practice or whatever it is you do, get stronger, more powerful. Every little bit
helps, and the more powerful you are, the more power you’ll have as reserve.”

“Are you sure?” Harry asked.

“You know me, Harry. I work so much better under pressure.” Hermione snorted sarcastically.

“Alright,” said Harry, still not fully convinced. “I’ll be in the gym if you need me.”

Hermione looked perplexed. “Gym?” she asked. “I didn’t know you had a gym. Where is it?”

“There are two entrances, one in the back of my closet, and one off the hall closet.” Hermione
raised an eyebrow but did not say anything. Harry continued, “It’s fully equipped with all the most
modern machines and gadgets, as well as a complete arsenal of weapons, everything from throwing
knives to submachine guns.”

“Planning a war?”

Harry shrugged, “Nah, but I’m prepared in case one breaks out again,” he said, his good mood
fading quickly.

Hermione’s eyes widened in alarm, “D’you really think it will come to that?”

“I dunno,” Harry said grimly, “but if it does, I intend to take the fight to him rather than
wait around for him to use my friends against me.”

“Harry, you don’t still blame yourself for what happened to us in 5th year, do
you?”

“Of course I do!” Harry snapped. “I almost lost Sirius for good! If it hadn’t been for my
‘heroic tendencies,’” his voice grew bitter, and Hermione winced behind him “we would never have
gone to the Department of Mysteries, we wouldn’t have been captured, and the Order wouldn’t have
had to come to our rescue and Sirius wouldn’t have fallen through The Veil!”

“Stop it!” Hermione grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him, “Harry! You saved him though!
You went in and got him, you didn’t let a little thing like dying stop you either, you crossed over
and you brought him back to us.”

“I know, but when I think about how easily it could have been for real, or if someone else had
died— Ron, Ginny, Luna, Neville, Tonks or—“ Harry’s voice grew husky, “*you*.” He pinned her
with his gaze, “As bad as I felt when I thought I’d lost Sirius, I know that losing *you*
would have been the end of me.”

“You didn’t make us go, Harry. We chose to follow you.” Hermione’s voice was soft, and she drew
him into her embrace, pulling his head down to rest on her shoulder. “I told you a long time ago
that you mustn’t dwell on your mistakes,” she whispered. “You must move on.”

“How can I?” asked Harry miserably. “I almost lost those that were nearest and dearest to
me.”

“That’s the consequence of war,” said Hermione sagely, “there are always casualties.”

Harry’s heart thumped heavily as he thought of all those lost in the battles leading up to his
final showdown with Voldemort, and all those who would be in danger if the Dark Lord rose again. He
knew that Voldemort was much more aware of whom Harry cared for, and they would be first on his hit
list when he regained his powers. He pulled back and stared deep into Hermione’s eyes, “When did
you become so x wise x sage?” he asked.

Hermione smiled impishly, “I’ve always been this way, and it’s just taken you a small slice of
forever to finally realize that it’s in your best interests to listen to me.”

“Funny,” said Harry, his good humor returning in the wake of her playfulness. “That’s real
funny. I’m pouring my heart out, and you’re making jokes.”

“Oh, it’s no joke, big boy,” Hermione’s grin got wider. “Have you ever benefited from ignoring
my advice?”

“Er…Well— Harry started, but Hermione cut him off.

“That’s an awfully deep subject for such a shallow mind.”

“Huh?” said Harry, then her meaning hit him, “Oh…Yeah, I guess it is,” he laughed, “Lucky for
me, I’ve got a genius for a girlfriend, and she can fish me out when I get in over my head.”

“That’s my job,” said Hermione, her smile fading as she turned and glared at the stacked books
behind her. “Now, Harry, I’ve got loads of work to do, and I’d really like to get started.”

“Okay,” Harry smiled and kissed her on the lips, “I’ll leave you to figure out something, but if
you haven’t got something for me in one week’s time, we go with my idea.”

“Fine, fine, now get out of here so I can get to work.” Hermione shooed him out the door, and
closed it in his face.

Harry stood there staring at the door, “Don’t worry about dinner okay? I’ll take care of it,” he
shouted. He thought he heard a muffled, ‘Fine!’, but was not sure. He walked away, a wide grin on
his face.

Harry went to his room and changed into black sweats. Barefoot, he went into his closet, opened
a door in the back, and stepped into a fully equipped gym and dojo.

Harry stretched for a good five minutes, and then went to work on the heavy bag. After the fight
with Ron, he had realized just how out of practice he was. That wouldn’t do at all, Sirius had
spent a lot of their time together teaching Harry how to fight, and would be disappointed that the
young man had lapsed in his training, and if there was one thing Harry didn’t want, it was to
disappoint Sirius.

Harry assaulted the bag with a flurry of punches and kicks. Jabs flew so fast they were a blur,
uppercuts landed with such force that the bag seemed to leap upward after each one, and kicks left
indentations that threatened to rupture the fabric.

*“One…two, one…two, right…left, jab…cross, hook…uppercut, knee…elbow, front kick…spinning back
fist, roundhouse kick! Again…”*

Harry continued to pummel the bag relentlessly, immersing himself in the movements, using the
repetitive motions to ease his mind. He stopped only when he developed a painful stitch in his
side. Harry leaned over, his hands on his knees, breathing heavily, and sweating profusely. He
wiped sweat from his eyes, took a few deep breaths and headed for the weights. He took a few more
minutes, letting his breathing even out before getting started.

Harry adjusted the bench – press machine, and got comfortable. He started out with 200 lbs,
lifting the weight easily, noticing how much his strength had increased from what it was before
removing the Anti – Apparition wards on the house, and nearly draining his power in the process. He
lowered the bar to his chest, flicked his finger and the weight increased to 300 lbs. He grabbed
the bar again and shoved upwards. This time, he had to strain a little more, and after lifting it
ten times, found his arms growing weak. He lowered the bar and sat up, massaging his biceps while
trying to decide which machine to hit next. The abdominal crunch machine caught his eye, and he
made his way over to it.

Harry plopped down in the chair, adjusted the tension strap and began his reps. He stopped
several minutes later, his lungs heaving and his abs screaming, and debated on just how much
torture to inflict upon himself. Deciding that he had done enough, he grabbed his towel, wiped down
the machine, pushed his sweaty hair out of his eyes, and headed for the weapon racks. He took down
a quarter staff, *“Bo,”* he reminded himself, calling it by the name it was known by in
martial arts, spun it around his head, through his hands and around his back to end up in the ready
position. He took a deep breath, and released it in an explosive yell.

“Kiiii--yah!” Harry cried, his Bo spinning around his head to end up with the blunt end stabbing
out at an unseen opponent. He used the simple stick as one would use a spear, stabbing and jabbing
at where his enemy’s eyes and throat would be. He practiced with the Bo for quite a while, losing
track of time and coming back to himself when the Bo slipped from his sweaty hands and struck the
wall. Harry stared at the fallen weapon and ground his teeth in agitation.

“I should really put an anti – slip charm on those blasted things,” Harry muttered.

He bent down, retrieved the staff and replaced it on the rack. He lowered himself to the floor,
and assumed the lotus position, his fists resting on his knees. He closed his eyes and sought inner
peace. He had learned this technique from a Muggle library book the summer before 6th
year. It had helped him deal with his temper and the rages that seemed all too eager to consume him
after Sirius’ perceived death. Harry shook his head to clear it of such disturbing thoughts, and
slowly his breathing evened out and his body relaxed.

Harry was brought out of his meditation by hunger, his growling stomach letting him know clearly
that it was time to eat. He stretched, popping his neck, shoulders, knees, and knuckles before
standing up. He wondered how Hermione was doing with her research or whatever it was that she was
doing, and decided to go check up on her. He headed for the study, yanking his sweaty shirt off and
tossing it towards the hamper in the corner as he passed through his room. When he got to the
study, he knocked tentatively on the door.

“Hermione?” Harry cracked the door a bit and peeked inside to see what she was doing.

Hermione was sitting at his desk, books stacked all around her, her bag open on a chair she had
drug up beside where she was sitting. She had parchment scattered everywhere, and was furiously
turning pages in her notebook, she looked up when the door creaked.

“What is it, Harry?” Hermione asked.

“Er…I was wondering if you had any particular preference for dinner.”

Hermione waved a hand, “Whatever you want is fine with me.”

“Are you sure, because I have no idea what I want.”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something,” said Hermione, turning back to her work.

“Okay. I’m going to hit the shower and then I’ll head into town and find something.”

“Fine, fine, whatever,” Hermione looked up again and pushed a wisp of hair out of her eye. “Now,
I’m dreadfully busy, so please leave me alone.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll see you when I get back,” Harry raised his fingers to his lips and blew her a
kiss. Hermione smiled and returned the gesture, then bent back to her task. Harry turned away and
walked quickly to the bathroom.

When Harry came out twenty minutes later, he was surprised to see Hermione standing outside the
study door, a very perturbed look on her face.

“What’s up?” he asked, pushing his wet hair out of his eyes.

“I found it.”

Harry could not believe his ears. “What? What did you just say?”

Hermione threw down her notebook and kicked it across the hall. “I said I found it!”

“What? Where is it?”

“It’s been right under our noses the whole time,” she smacked herself in the forehead. “How
could I have been so stupid?”

“Hermione! Tell me where it is!”

Hermione rolled her eyes, “I can’t believe I’m going to say this—

“WHAT?” Harry asked, exasperated.

“—the Room of Requirement,” said Hermione, dropping her head into her hands.

“No way,” Harry was incredulous.

“Yes, it hit me a few minutes ago, and I sat there trying to tell myself that there is no way
that you or I could be so stupid as to not think of that room.”

Harry scratched his head in thought, “It is the perfect place to hide something though. I mean
there is no way just anyone could stumble across Flamel’s books if they’re in the Room of
Requirement.”

“I know.” Her voice was full of disgust, “that’s why I’m sure they’re there.”

“So what do you want to do?” asked Harry.

“I’ll go to the Room. Oh, and don’t worry about finding something in Hogsmeade, I’ll bring back
something from the Hogwarts’ kitchen for dinner,” said Hermione.

“Are you sure?” Harry asked, “I could come with you.”

“That’s okay, Harry, the sooner we get the book, the sooner we can plan our next move.” She
stood on tiptoe and kissed him on the lips. “I’ll see you when I get back, and maybe after we’ve
made our plans, we could begin making plans for *other things*.” She wriggled her eyebrows

“Vixen,” Harry laughed, and swatted her playfully on the rump, “now get out of here before I
throw you on the floor and ravish you!”

“Oooh, promises, promises,” said Hermione, throwing him a grin, before she disapparated.

Harry shook his head, that girl was something else. He had often reflected on his relationship
with Hermione, and how one sided it had been for so long. She had sacrificed and risked a lot to be
his friend, even putting his life ahead of their friendship. When it came down to it, she had been
there for him when no one else had been, and it embarrassed and infuriated him to realize that it
had taken him so long to see her feelings for what they really were.

Hermione returned an hour later to find Harry kicked back in his chair and reading her
manuscript for the revised edition of Hogwarts: A History. He dog-eared the page he was on and
stood up. Her glowing face let him know immediately that she had been successful.

“Alright! You got it!”

Hermione smiled and held up what had to be the oldest and most decrepit looking book in the
known world. Harry could just make out what looked like a line of M’s running down the spine.

“It was surprisingly easy to find it, Harry; I’m a tad disappointed to tell you the truth.”

“Hermione, don’t say that, because we’re not outta the woods yet. We still have to find the
spell and whatnot,” said Harry, taking the book from her and carrying it over to the table. He
cleared the table with a wave of his arm and gently lowered the aged volume to the surface. The
pages looked so brittle, he was tempted to cast a charm to protect them, but Hermione quickly
stopped him.

“Harry, no!”

He looked up, “Why not?”

Hermione flinched, then with a wave of her wand, a smoke surrounded her. When it cleared, Harry
saw that her hair had been singed all over, and she looked like she had been struck by lightning.
Her face was smudged with scorch marks, and there were burnt patches on her clothes, like she had
tried to walk through a fire.

“What the hell happened? Are you alright?” Harry asked, rushing to her side and examining her
for injuries.

Hermione winced when he touched a burn on her cheek. “The book is protected, that’s how I found
it.”

Harry didn’t say anything else, he just held his hands up, palms out, towards her and, just as
he had in the Department of Mysteries in their 5th year, healed her of her injuries. He
had not known at the time that that was what he had done, but after talking about it with Sirius,
they had come to the conclusion that she would have died if he had not accidentally healed her. He
had yet to reveal this to her, and was loathe to do so.

Hermione took a deep breath when he had finished, “Thanks, Harry.”

“No problem, Babe,” Harry kissed her on the top of her head. “Now, let’s get down to
business.”

Hermione started turning pages, wincing when she read some of the names of the spells. “Ooh,
this one sounds like it should be an Unforgivable Curse.”

“It would, except it requires the caster to have drunk centaur blood twenty-four hours before
casting in order to get the full effect,” Harry agreed.

Hermione continued flipping pages, going past several curses used in ancient duels and a few
charms that were no longer valid, until finally, three quarters through the book, she turned to a
page labelled:

**The Panacea**

**The definitive cure all for any curse or charm, the Panacea has been known to restore life to
those mere seconds from death’s door. Although this potion can cure anything, not many are willing
to take the risks inherent in brewing it. The ingredients needed are rare, and in some cases,
extremely hazardous to one’s health to gather. It takes a person of great courage, skill, and
determination to acquire them. But, if one is brave of heart and foolish of head, the ingredients
are listed below.**

*Ingredients*

**-Alicorn voluntarily dips horn into brewed potion
(Dedication/Protectiveness/Devotedness)**

**-Beard of a Satyr - 6 inches in length (Vitality)**

**-Tear of a Nymph (Compassion)**

**-Seven Lotus flowers (Love)**

**-Feather of a** **Phoenix** **(Loyalty)**

**-Boiling Blood of a Fire Drake (Nobility)**

**The items do not have to be gathered in any specific order, however, the Alicorn will not
allow magic use in its presence, and as such will only agree to dip its horn after learning to
trust the witch or wizard brewing the potion. This has its drawbacks, as the wizard must not use
magic of any kind from the moment the Alicorn is contacted nor leave its presence until the potion
has been stirred and the Alicorn has gotten safely away, Nor will the Alicorn allow any other
person to come around, or it will bolt. The Alicorn Nation is adamant about this, and they demand
considerable time in which the wizard must prove he can be trusted. If for some reason the Alicorn
called distrusts the wizard, it will leave immediately and no Alicorn will ever again answer the
summons. The Nation also demands that only a female virgin perform the summoning charm.**

**The beard of the satyr will require the wizard to use his brain, for the satyrs measure
sexual potency by the length of his beard, and no male will willingly part with his. However, if
the wizard is crafty enough, he should be able to trick the satyr into giving it up. The wizard
must, and I cannot stress this enough, must be given the beard, he cannot steal it. Satyrs can be
found roaming all over** **Greece****.**

**As any who have travailed these lands know, Nymphs are lovely creatures that are perpetually
happy. Getting one to shed a tear will be no small feat. They were once very common all over
Briton,** **Gaul** **and the Northlands, but now they are mainly found in** **Eire**
**and** **Greece****.**

**Seven Lotus flowers symbolize the love the wizard or witch has for the person they wish to
cure. Although some would consider the Lotus to be a connotation for sexual or physical love, but
that is not always the case, and will work even if the wizard or witch is not sexually attracted to
the person they wish to heal. They are found on several Greek isles, and even in some very remote
areas of the mainland. I found a large field growing in the shadow of** **Mt.**
**Olympus****, so if one seeks Lotus flowers, I would suggest looking there.**

**The feather of a** **Phoenix** **is relatively easy to acquire, assuming of course that
one has access to such a remarkable bird. I am lucky, because my personal pet just happens to be
a** **Phoenix****. However, that is not the case for everybody, and in such cases, the
majestic bird can be found at the tops of very high peaks. One must be very careful, and highly
respectful when dealing with such animals, for if frightened or insulted, they can disappear
instantly.**

**Perhaps the most difficult and dangerous of all the ingredients is the boiling blood of a
Fire Drake. Now, do not be deceived, dear reader, for the Fire Drake is just another way of saying
Dragon. However, the Fire Dragon is a rare species that inhabit active volcanoes. They swim through
the molten rock as if it were water, and when angered they spew superheated gases. It takes great
courage, and a weapon not made by man to collect the boiling blood, and know this, the container
must be charmed to withstand tremendous heat, or the blood will burn though it in seconds, and once
the blood hits air, it cools instantly, and will no longer work.**

**Once you have these ingredients, boil water in a small cauldron, pick the petals off the
Lotus flowers, adding them one at a time, until all are floating on the surface, then add the stems
and roots. Sprinkle the satyr’s beard over the petals, being careful to only let one hair hit the
mixture at a time. Let boil for one hour, and then add the Nymph’s tears. Stir the concoction with
the** **Phoenix** **feather in a clockwise manner until the feather has lost all its color
and then drop it in. Take the container of blood from wherever you may have placed it, and set the
container in the mixture, making sure that the surface level of the water is higher than any part
of the container. Let it simmer for exactly thirty hours, not one second more or less. As the
thirtieth hour comes to a close, have the Alicorn break the container with its horn, and then while
the blood mixes with the other ingredients, stir with exactly five vertical strokes of the horn.
When this is done, let the potion cool for two hours, then administer it to the afflicted using a
solid gold goblet.**

Harry frowned when Hermione stopped reading, “Not asking very much is he?”

“Harry, at least now we know what we have to do, and that makes this so much easier.”

“I know, I know,” Harry ran his hands through his hair. “Where do we start?”

“I was thinking that the easiest should be gotten first, and that means the Lotus flowers, and
while we’re in Greece, we can try to get the Nymph’s tears and the satyr’s beard. Kill three birds
with one stone.”

“You forgot the Alicorn,” Harry reminded her. “It has to be summoned and given enough time to
learn to trust us.”

“I know that, Harry, but we have to figure out a few things before we summon the Alicorn. First,
we have to get to Greece, second, we have to *find* both the creatures and the flowers, and
third, we have to do both of those things *after* we summon the Alicorn, so we’ll need a way
to get around, as well as having made preparations for our safety and well being.”

Harry frowned; this was more than slightly confusing. “Okay, I think I understand what you’re
trying to say. We have to make plans for how we’re going to take care of things without magic,
*before* we get in the situation,” he said, and she nodded.

“Well, let’s look at what we won’t be able to do,” said Harry, raising a hand. “We won’t be able
to travel, except by foot, we won’t be able to defend ourselves, except with weapons of some sort,
or in lieu of that, our fists and feet, and we won’t be able to communicate, except by owl, and
that’s *if* the Alicorn will allow it,” he said, ticking each one off on his fingers.

“Right,” Hermione smiled, “and I have an idea about part of it.”

“Yeah, which part?”

“We’ll have to go to my parents’ house, because even though you sent them a note, and I told
them I would be here, they really need to be informed about this little trip we’re going to
take.”

“Okay,” said Harry. “I say we grab our bags and hit the road as soon as possible.”

“I was thinking the same thing, but Harry, don’t you think we should just Apparate there?”

Harry shook his head, “Nah, I’ve been cooped up for so long in this place, the travelling will
do me good.”

“Well then, how do you intend to get there? Because last time I checked, you don’t have a car,
and I don’t have a broom,” she said. “Although, I suppose I could turn something into a
portkey—

“No, I have a better idea,” said Harry. “Let’s take my bike, we’ll make a road trip of it.”

“Bike? Harry, you don’t mean that motorcycle, do you?”

Harry grinned, “That’s exactly what I mean. It hasn’t been run very much, except to keep the
battery charged in three years, so what d’you say, you and me, the open road, the wind in our
hair?”

Hermione smiled, “You do paint a beautiful picture, and it is quite a distance from here to my
parents’ house, so it would definitely be a road trip, and the more I think about it, the better I
like it!”

“Great! Let’s saddle up! *Accio* travel bag!” Harry cried.

A large, black duffle bag came floating into the room, and Harry grabbed it. He dug through it,
muttering. “Good, good, good. Whoa! Not good!” He pulled out a pair of socks that stank so bad, the
fumes were almost visible.

Hermione covered her nose, “Oh, Harry, get rid of those things!”

“Right!” Harry levitated the socks above his hand, narrowed his eyes and they burst into flames.
They burned swiftly, not even leaving an ash to mark their existence.

“I’ll go grab my bag, you go get the bike ready,” said Hermione.

“Okay, hurry back,” Harry went one way and Hermione went another. He went up the stairs to the
third floor, opened a side door and went into a fully stocked garage. The place was immaculate, not
one speck of grease or dust anywhere. Magic was so handy. He looked at the gleaming black
motorcycle with its Harley Davidson nameplate shining in chrome. He miniaturized his duffle bag and
dropped it into the leather saddlebag. He threw his leg over the seat, turned the key and then
gathering his strength, jumped on the kick-start lever. That was one thing he had never liked about
the big bike, that damn kick-start hated him. He managed to get it fired up after another three
tries, the big engine popping through the straight pipes and nearly deafening him in the enclosed
space.

Hermione came running in, her bag in her hand. Harry looked at her and grinned. He took her bag
and stuck it in the saddlebag with his. She hopped on back, wrapped her arms around his waist and
held on tight.

“Scared?” he asked.

“A bit, I’ve never been on a flying motorcycle before.”

“Who said we were gonna fly? Harry gunned the throttle and the wall split down the center,
sliding smoothly to the sides. Harry waited until he had a clear path, then twisted the handle
hard. The big bike peeled rubber all the way through the room and out onto the yard. They roared
down the hill and through Hogsmeade, sending people diving for cover, unsure of what manner of
beast had found its way into their sleepy little hamlet.

**The Grangers’ House**

Harry and Hermione arrived at her parents’ house a little after noon, two days later. Harry
pulled Sirius’ big, black Harley Davidson into the circle driveway and parked it behind a Cherry
Red, 1957 Aston Martin DB 2/4 MK III Coupe, and a Silver 1980 Porsche 911 Turbo. There was an
Emerald Green 1998 Land Rover parked in front of the garage with the driver’s side rear door open,
and several grocery bags setting in the seat. Hermione leaped off the back of the bike as Harry
killed it, and ran for the woman emerging from the house.

“Mum!” Hermione cried, throwing her arms around Mrs. Granger.

“Hermione!” said Mrs. Granger, embracing her daughter. “What are you doing here? What was all
that noise, and who is this handsome young man?”

Hermione indicated Harry as she stepped back a pace, “Mum, you remember Harry.”

“Hello Mrs. Granger,” said Harry nodding his head politely. “Sorry about the noise.”

Mrs. Granger smiled and extended her hand, “Of course I do. How have you been Harry?”

“Pretty good,” said Harry, shaking her hand. “Can I lend a hand with those groceries?”

Mrs. Granger looked shocked for a moment, and then smiled, “Yes, thank you.”

Harry grabbed the remaining bags and walked behind the two women as they talked.

“Mum, Harry and I have to go on a trip, and we won’t be able to communicate with you for an
indefinite period of time.”

Mrs. Granger looked from Hermione back at Harry, “What’s going on?”

Harry wasn’t sure how much to tell, but the look in Mrs. Granger’s eyes warned him that he’d
better have a darn good reason. “Our old Head Master is very ill, and the only way to cure him is
to procure the services of a creature that gives new definition to the word ‘paranoid.’”

“Why can’t you deal with this alone?” asked Mrs. Granger, as they walked through the large
living room and into the kitchen. “Hermione has told us repeatedly that you’re the greatest wizard
to ever live.”

Harry blushed and set the bags down on a counter. “She’s being generous, she’s actually the
greatest.”

“I am not!” said Hermione, turning red.

“Are too, and you know it,” said Harry. “But to answer your question, there is a spell that has
to be performed by a female, and the creature that is summoned requires a trial period during which
no magic can be performed and nothing and no one is allowed around us. At this same time, we’re not
allowed to leave the creature’s presence.”

“I see,” said Mrs. Granger. “You’ll at least stay for dinner won’t you?”

“Of course we will,” Hermione said. “We have a lot to discuss with you and Daddy.” Hermione
looked around, “Speaking of Daddy, where is he?”

“He went into his study about an hour before I left to go to the store. He’s probably working on
one of those model ships of his. I swear, the house could fall down around his ears, and he’d never
realize it.”

Harry grinned, “Now I know where she gets it.”

Mrs. Granger returned his grin, “Yes, our little girl takes after her father.”

“Oh, I don’t know. I’d say she got some of her best attributes from you,” said Harry
winking.

Mrs. Granger blushed, and Hermione slapped him on the arm. “Harry! Stop flirting with my
mother!”

“What? Sirius said that all women deserve to have their beauty appreciated, and that there is
nothing wrong with making a woman feel good about herself,” Harry said defensively. “Besides, I was
just being honest. You have her eyes and nose, and ears, and you know how much I like your
ears.”

“This Sirius fellow seems very wise,” said Mrs. Granger, “I’d like to meet him someday.”

“MUM!”

“What, Hermione? I’m a woman same as you, and I happen to like being complimented on my looks,”
Mrs. Granger said. “Do you think it’s easy to stay in this kind of shape at my age?”

“Well, no, but…”

“No buts, Hermione. I’m not a young woman anymore, and I’ll take all the compliments I can get,
even if they are slightly backhanded,” said Mrs. Granger with a sideways glance at Harry. “I don’t
have magic to make me look good; I have to work hard to stay in this shape.”

Harry smiled, “It’s worth it, because you look great.”

“Thank you.”

Hermione grabbed Harry’s arm, “Let’s go say hi to Daddy, then I’ll come back and help you put
this stuff away, Mum.”

“I’ll be right here,” said Mrs. Granger. “Oh and Hermione, I have some things I’d like to
discuss with you privately, so let Harry and your father talk.”

“Okay Mum.”

Harry started walking, and when he got out of earshot of the kitchen, he turned to Hermione. “I
don’t like the sound of that.”

“Relax Harry. This is a normal part of getting together, you’ll be fine.”

Harry gulped, and tried to calm his nerves. “Okay.” They continued through the house to the
basement door. “Nice place for a basement. Aren’t they usually off the kitchen?”

“Yes, but Daddy had this one specifically built for his study. It is completely sound proof; no
noise can get in or out.”

Harry blanched, “Oh yeah, that makes me feel much better.”

“Harry, are you nervous?”

“A little,” Harry admitted.

“Why? You’ve faced Voldemort without flinching, why the nerves over visiting my father?”

“I’ve heard numerous horror stories from Sirius about meeting a girl’s father.”

“Oh Harry, honestly.”

“Just promise to come and check on me in ten minutes or so. Please.”

“Okay, you big baby,” said Hermione giggling.

They came to a large door set under the stairs in the den, and Hermione pushed the button on the
doorjamb. A few seconds later, the door opened, and Mr. Granger was standing there. He was a big
man, as tall as Harry, but thicker through the chest. He had a neatly trimmed Van Dyke goatee, and
his hair was combed back from his forehead. He smiled when he saw Hermione, and gathered her into a
big bear hug.

“Hermione! How’s my baby girl?”

“I’m fine, Daddy,” said Hermione, returning the hug.

“Who’s this?” Mr. Granger asked when he released Hermione from the hug. “He looks familiar.”

“Daddy, this is Harry.”

“Harry? Harry?” Mr. Granger tapped his chin in thought, “I know I’ve heard that name
before…”

“Daddy!”

“Oh! Harry POTTER!” Mr. Granger thrust his hand out to shake. “How have you been, son?”

“I’ve been good sir,” Harry extended his hand and met Mr. Granger grip for grip.

“What brings you two here?”

“We’re visiting before taking a longer trip, Daddy,” said Hermione.

“Is that right?”

“Yes, sir,” Harry nodded.

“Daddy, I have to go help Mum with the groceries, she said to leave you and Harry to talk.”

“Then I guess you’d better go help her.” Mr. Granger kissed Hermione’s cheek, and she sprinted
back the way they came.

“Don’t run in the house!” He turned back to Harry. “Please, make yourself comfortable.”

“Thank you.” Harry walked inside the study, and was amazed at the amount and variety of stuff on
the walls. Beside the door was a display case full of swords and on one wall behind the desk was a
large gun rack that held several old muzzle loading rifles, and a glass cabinet that housed a
number of much newer model firearms faced the desk. Everywhere Harry looked was some sort of
cabinet or shelf, and if they didn’t house weapons, they contained books or intricate model ships
in bottles.

Harry stopped at the sword case and inspected one of the broadswords, noting some curious
scratches on the handle. “Nice collection you have here.”

“Thank you,” Mr. Granger settled himself into the large leather chair behind his desk, and
picked up a case. He opened it, and removed several long, thin throwing knives. He tossed one up
and caught it deftly before sending it spinning into a target several feet from his position.

“Nice throw,” said Harry. “If you put more spin on it, it will stick better.”

“You know knives?”

“Yes, sir, a bit.”

Mr. Granger offered one of the knives to Harry. “Be my guest.”

Harry took the proffered weapon, spun it in the air, caught it by the tip, and then twirled it
in his fingers getting its balance. He spun the blade back and forth, and then hurled it into the
target.

Mr. Granger whistled appreciatively. “Very nice, someone has taught you the art of knife
handling.”

“You’re pretty good yourself,” said Harry. “Hermione said you’re a dentist, but you handle a
blade like you’ve used one before.”

“That I have, son, that I have. I don’t talk about it, because it upsets the wife, and she
forbade me to ever tell Hermione, but I wasn’t always a dentist. I used to be in the R.A.F,
Squadron 56,” he said proudly. “We were known as the phoenix squadron, on account of the phoenix on
our badges and we always rose from the ashes to get the job done.”

“Wow!” Harry exclaimed. It seemed that no matter where he went, he couldn’t escape his
connection with the mystical bird. He covered his amazement by turning it to flying. “I can’t
believe you were a pilot.”

“I flew the Phantom FG2, but I gave everything up two years before Hermione was born.”

“Do you miss it?”

“Flying?”

“Yes.”

“More than I ever thought possible,” said Mr. Granger sadly.

“You’re lucky we came to visit,” said Harry with a broad smile.

“Why is that?”

“Well, sir, I just happen to have a flying motorcycle parked outside, and if you’d like to take
it for a spin, I don’t mind at all.”

“You have a motorcycle? What kind?”

“Harley.”

Mr. Granger got a far off look in his eyes, “I haven’t been on a motorcycle in years,” he said
wistfully. “I’ve probably forgotten how to ride.”

“Nonsense, it’ll all come back to you.”

“Are you certain you don’t mind?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I can’t believe that for the first time in twenty years I’m going to get to ride a Harley.” Mr.
Granger’s voice held more than a hint of excitement, in fact it sounded like he was barely
restraining himself from dashing outside.

“We’ll have to wait until it gets dark to fly. We don’t want the neighbors spotting you.”

“Oh, of course not,” said Mr. Granger, settling back into his chair. The silence grew between
them, and both shifted uncomfortably.

Harry decided to change the subject and indicated the sword case. “If you don’t mind my asking,
where did you get that sword?”

Mr. Granger seemed to forget all about flying. “Which one are you referring to?”

“The broadsword with the curled up cross guard.”

“Oh that one, I picked it up at an estate sale. Why?”

“It’s magic.”

“What?”

Harry raised his hand, and the weapon in question flew across the room and landed in his palm.
“See these marks here?” He said, laying the sword on the desk and indicating the runic symbols
etched into the hilt.

“Yes. What are they?”

“They’re Runes, they indicate the presence of magic.”

“Can you read it?”

“Usually, but these have been marred too much to make out the inner inscriptions.”

“Is it dangerous?”

“It could be. There’s a very easy way to find out, and I think you’ll get a kick out of this.”
Harry reached back to his right shoulder, closed his hand, and then pulled Excalibur out of thin
air.

When the enchanted blade of legends appeared, Mr. Granger gasped, and the sword lying on the
desk started shaking violently.

“Whoa! It seems that it doesn’t like Excalibur!” said Harry, standing up and moving his weapon
further away from the one on the desk.

Mr. Granger seemed to be doing his impression of a fish out of water. “That…that….that’s
EXCALIBUR?”

“Yes, sir,” said Harry, “The one and only.”

“I thought it was only a legend!”

Harry smiled, “All legends are based on fact IF you go back far enough.”

“Wow,” Mr. Granger breathed almost reverently, “Excalibur…in my house.” He started to stick out
his hand, but paused in mid motion. “May I touch it?”

Harry looked at the weapon in his hand, then at the hopeful look on Mr. Granger’s face. “Yes.
I’ll have to keep my hand on it as well, or it may go berserk.”

“Of course,” said Mr. Granger. He placed his hand above Harry’s on the hilt, and a huge grin lit
his face. “I can’t believe I’m holding Excalibur!”

Harry smiled in return, but then noticed that the other sword had stopped its antics. “Well, I
guess our friend isn’t harmful, but it’s definitely enchanted.”

“Does that mean I can keep it?” asked Mr. Granger, releasing his hold on Excalibur.

“Yes, sir,” said Harry. “It appears to recognize other enchanted objects, so it may have been a
simple threat detector.”

“Ahh, I see.”

Harry returned Excalibur to its invisible scabbard, and sat back down while Mr. Granger returned
the other sword to its case.

“So Harry, tell me about this trip you and Hermione have to take.”

“Well sir, our old Head Master is very ill, and Hermione and I have to undertake a quest to find
the ingredients that make up the only potion that can cure him.”

“Just the two of you?” asked Mr. Granger, taking his seat and propping his feet up on one corner
of his desk.

“Yes, sir, we also have to cast a spell to summon a very nervous creature, and it requires a
trial period where it learns if it can trust us or not.”

“Seems like you’ll be spending quite a bit of time together,” at Harry’s nod, Mr. Granger
dropped his feet, and leaned forward over the desk, his eyes boring into Harry’s. “Just what are
your intentions regarding my daughter?”

Harry’s stomach knotted up, and he fidgeted in his seat, but didn’t break eye contact. “She
means the world to me, sir. I’d never do anything to hurt her.”

“I’m glad you feel that way, because she’s my baby girl, and I want to make sure she’s treated
right,” said Mr. Granger leaning back in his chair. “I won’t ask anything embarrassing because I
respect my daughter’s judgment; however, I have to ask what your financial status is.”

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. “Well, sir, I inherited a small fortune from my parents, and
due to some rather shrewd investments I’ve managed to augment my inheritance quite
substantially.”

“What kind of investments?”

Harry scratched his head. “I gave a thousand galleons to some friends of mine to start a novelty
shop. After the initial investment to get them started, I used some of my influence to get other
investors for them, and now they’re a household name in the Wizarding World.”

“I see,” said Mr. Granger, “Do you think they’d be interested in another investor?”

“Yes, sir. It’s a very solid investment. I told Hermione they pay me a thousand galleons a
month, but in reality, I don’t know how much they pay me. I just know that since they’ve been
depositing money in my account, I’ve had to get a second vault at Gringott’s.”

Mr. Granger let out a soft whistle. “When you get a chance, please let them know I’m interested
in setting up a meeting with them.”

“Yes, sir, I’ll be sure to do that,” said Harry.

“You don’t have to call me, sir, Harry,” said Mr. Granger.

“What would you prefer?”

“Well, my name is Geoffrey, with a G.”

“That’s not very common.”

“I was named after Chaucer, my father’s favorite writer, but I go by Geoff. Are you okay with
that?”

“Yes, si—uh—Sure, Geoff.”

“That’s better, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is,” said Harry. He decided to change the subject to something more interesting.
“Speaking of flying; that is an awesome red car you have in the driveway.”

“Ah, you like that do you?” Geoff smiled, “That car was my graduation gift to myself. Come on,
we’ll go take a closer look at it, and you can show me your scoot.” said Mr. Granger, as he stood
up.

“Cool!” Harry hopped up out of his chair, and followed Geoff out of the room.

They had passed through the kitchen where the women were just finishing with the groceries, and
had almost reached the front door when Hermione stopped them.

“Having fun?”

“Loads,” said Harry smiling. “We’re going out to take a look at the bike. Did you know your dad
used to ride?”

“No,” said Hermione. “He’s alluded to being slightly rebellious in his youth, but would never
give me any details.” She shook her head at her father. “Honestly, Daddy.”

Harry’s eyes widened when he realized just how much Hermione didn’t know about her father. He
felt rather like Hagrid must have felt when he accidentally gave away the secret to getting past
Fluffy. “I shouldn’t have said that,” he mumbled, mentally smacking himself in the head. “I should
not have said that.”

Geoff grinned, “Don’t worry about it, Harry.” He looked at his daughter and smiled. “I’ve wanted
to tell you for some time now, Honey, but your mother asked me not to. She was afraid that if you
heard about how much of a rule breaker I was, then you might have been tempted to stray from the
straight and narrow and get yourself into all sorts of troubles and adventures.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and Harry chuckled. “Geoff, Hermione is the only reason I’m still
alive. She’s been instrumental in assisting me with all my adventures, and sometimes she’s had to
break some rules.”

Hermione snorted, “Break he says, more like shattered to pieces.”

“You never told us about those parts,” said Mr. Granger, giving his daughter a long look.

“I thought it best to omit certain aspects of our adventures as they may not have been well
received,” said Hermione.

Geoff raised an eyebrow. “Good call.”

Hermione smiled sweetly. “I love you, Daddy!”

“And that’s supposed to make it all better, isn’t it?” Geoff sighed wearily.

“Yes.”

“What am I going to do with you, Princess?” Geoff shook his head at his daughter, and then
turned to Harry, “You see all these grey hairs?” he asked, running his fingers through his salt and
pepper hair. “Every last one of them was caused by this girl.” Hermione stuck her tongue out at her
father, and Geoff broke into a broad smile, “I tell you, Harry, pray you never have any daughters,
because they will drive you nuts!”

Harry laughed, and Hermione glared at her father. “That’s not funny, Daddy!”

“Harry obviously thought it was funny,” said Geoff, grinning from ear to ear.

Hermione gave Harry a dirty look that made both men laugh even harder, “Yes, well Harry never
has had much of a sense of humor.”

“That’s not true, Hermione,” said Harry chuckling. “You just have a hard time appreciating
it.”

“I have a hard time appreciating it, because it’s almost nonexistent,” Hermione said dryly.

Harry opened his mouth, but a look from Geoff stopped him. “Give it a rest son, you’ll never
win.”

“Yes Harry, listen to Geoff,” said Mrs. Granger, walking into the room. “He knows what it’s like
to never win.”

“Oh really?” said Geoff with a sly smile.

“Don’t go there, Geoff.”

“Why not, Gretchen?” asked Mr. Granger. “I seem to recall winning just the other night…Now what
did I win?” He got a far away look on his face that slowly turned into an evil grin, “Oh yeah! You
had to wear that little--

Mrs. Granger blushed, and she slapped her husband on the upper arm, “Geoff! Not in front of the
kids.”

Hermione looked mortified at the turn the conversation had taken, “Mum! Dad! Please! I do not
need to hear this!”

“Now look what you’ve done, Geoff, you’ve scarred our daughter for life!”

“Oh dear!” cried Mr. Granger dramatically. “Hermione, Honey, can you ever forgive me?”

“Daddy!” Hermione said through clenched teeth.

Harry was amazed at the banter going on between Mr. and Mrs. Granger. He’d never seen the like
in his entire life, and it gave him a warm feeling inside to see two people that obviously loved
one another a great deal having fun together without actually going anywhere or doing anything
other than talking. The fact that Hermione looked like she was ready to have a coronary just made
it that much more entertaining.

“You two are embarrassing me,” said Hermione.

Mr. Granger turned to Mrs. Granger, “Did you know that we’re embarrassing our daughter?”

“Whatever gave you that idea?”

“Didn’t you hear her?”

“Was she speaking?” asked Mrs. Granger.

Hermione rolled her eyes, “Oh for God’s sake, not the question game!”

“Did you hear someone?” asked Mr. Granger, smiling broadly.

“Did I hear someone what?” Mrs. Granger played along beautifully.

“Will you two please STOP?”

Mrs. Granger winked at her husband, “I’m sorry Hermione, were you saying something?”

“Yes!” Hermione cried.

“Well, what is it?” asked Geoff, fighting a grin.

“I don’t remember,” said Hermione, looking like she was doing her best to stay mad, but failing
miserably.

Harry choked on his laughter, drawing their attention to him.

“Oh, Harry, I’m sorry,” said Mrs. Granger. “We didn’t mean to leave you out of the fun.”

Harry smiled and raised a hand, “Not at all. I’m used to observing family interactions rather
than being a part of them.”

“That’s terrible,” said Mrs. Granger. “Hermione’s told us about your upbringing, and it
infuriates me to think that a boy as nice as you are was treated so badly. You were practically a
slave in your own home! Oooh! I’d love to give those Dursleys a piece of my mind!”

“Calm down, Gretchen,” said Geoff. “There’s no need to upset yourself over the past, right
Harry?”

“Yes, sir, what’s done is done. I squared things with them three years ago, and no longer bear
them any ill will.”

“That takes a big man, Harry,” said Mr. Granger.

“Just don’t ask how he squared it,” muttered Hermione.

“I’m sure they got only what they deserved,” said Mrs. Granger. “I wouldn’t blame you if you
hated them, Harry.”

“Well ma’am,--

“Gretchen,” said Mrs. Granger breaking in, “call me Gretchen.”

“Well, Gretchen, I’ve learned a lot of things in the past few years, and one of them is that
life is far too short to waste even one second hating another person. I had the chance to avenge my
parents’ death by killing the man that betrayed them, but I chose to let him live. I got the
opportunity again, when he tried to harm Hermione, and this time I didn’t hold back,” Harry let
that statement hang for a moment so they could grasp the implications, and then continued on. “I
know what it’s like to hate, and it eats away at you. It can sustain you in a time of hardship, but
if it is never let go, it will consume your very soul”

“That’s deep,” said Geoff.

“Daddy, stop. Harry is being serious,” said Hermione. “He’s gone through more in the past ten
years than most people go through in a lifetime or even two lifetimes,” she moved next to Harry,
and took his hand in both of hers. “It’s rare and very difficult for him to speak about things like
this, so please accord him some respect!”

“No disrespect intended, Hermione, that was a very deep sentiment, and one I agree with whole
heartedly,” said Mr. Granger.

“Thank you, Geoff,” said Harry. He looked around at the solemn faces and grinned self
consciously, “I didn’t mean to bring everyone down, let’s talk about something more light
hearted.”

“I’m all for that,” said Gretchen, “What were you boys going to do outside?”

“I was going to show Harry the cars, and he was going to let me ride his bike.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Geoff,” said Mrs. Granger frowning. “Motorcycles are
notoriously dangerous, and I know how you get.”

“Aww, Honey, I’ll be careful,” smiled Mr. Granger.

“See that you do, it’s been a long time since you last rode, and we don’t need you in the
hospital because you had an accident.”

Harry looked at Hermione and grinned. It seemed like they had once had a similar argument, but
over very different circumstances.

“I will,” said Geoff, “now don’t worry.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out his wallet. He
took out several large bills and handed them to his wife. “Here, why don’t you and Hermione go
shopping? It’s on me.”

Harry got the distinct impression that Mr. Granger was trying to get rid of the women for a few
hours, but wisely kept his mouth shut. He noticed that Mrs. Granger could see right through her
husband, but she went along with him anyway.

“Okay Geoff, we’ll go shopping, but I’d rather have your credit card instead of…” she held up
the bills, “these.”

Mr. Granger was visibly torn between wanting time to enjoy the motorcycle and freely handing
over his credit card. Eventually, excitement beat out monetary concerns, and he dug the card out
and passed it over. “Here, please try to use some restraint.”

“Thank you,” said Mrs. Granger. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed her husband on the cheek,
“you’re such a sweetie, Geoff.”

“Yeah, yeah,” grumbled Mr. Granger. “Can I have my cash back?”

“Oh no, Hermione and I are going to use it to dine on,” said Mrs. Granger with a wide smile.
“We’ll see you later, come on Hermione, you can drive the Porsche.”

“No! Harry and I were going to tinker with it,” said Geoff. “Take the Land Rover.”

Hermione pouted and gave her father a sad puppy face, “But I don’t wanna drive the Rover, Daddy.
I wanna drive the Porsche.”

Harry snickered, but Geoff took one look at his daughter’s face and relented. “Okay, Honey, you
take the Porsche.”

“Thank you, Daddy!” Hermione threw her arms around her father neck.

“You’re welcome, Sweetheart.”

Harry stood silently, just taking in everything. He’d never seen this side of Hermione before,
and he had to admit that he found it incredibly endearing. She was very much daddy’s little
princess, and he had a sudden insight to what she must have been like as a very young child. He
smiled at how cute the little girl in his head was, and out of nowhere wondered if his daughter
would look like her mother or himself. He was mildly surprised when that thought landed, but rather
than push it away, his mind decided to explore the possibilities. His smile turned sad when he
realized that his parents would never get to meet any of their grandchildren, and he felt a flash
of rage wash over him when he thought about the reason why that would never happen…Voldemort. His
fists clenched and he vaguely heard the knuckles crack.

“Harry? Harry? Yoo-Hoo! Hey, Harry!”

“Huh? What?” Harry came back to himself to discover Mr. Granger waving a hand in front of his
face.

“Wow! Boy when you space out, you really space out!”

“Sorry, Geoff,” mumbled Harry.

“Harry, are you alright? Hermione asked. Harry could hear the worry in her voice.

“I’m fine, Hermione,” said Harry, avoiding her eyes.

Hermione planted herself in front of him and grabbed his head, pulling it down until their eyes
locked. “Are you sure? You looked deep in thought about something, then your knuckles cracked and
we saw that you were clenching your fists.

“Yeah, I was just daydreaming for minute.”

“Actually it was more like five minutes,” said Mrs. Granger.

“It was?” asked Harry.

“Yes. Does that happen often?”

“No, not often, but due to recent events, it’s happened a few times.” Harry scratched the back
of his neck. “It’s a reaction to Voldemort, when I think about him, I get a little angry, and I
zone out for a few minutes.” Harry noticed that now all three of them appeared to be worried about
his mental health. “Really, it’s no big deal.”

Hermione looked sceptical, but gave in, “If you’re sure it’s nothing to worry about, I’ll
respect your decision, but please don’t brush aside my concern.”

“Thank you, Hermione.”

Mrs. Granger walked over and took Hermione’s hand. “We’ll see you boys later, have fun but
please try to stay out of trouble.”

“We will,” said Mr. Granger, “have a good time.”

Hermione plucked the credit card out of her mother’s hand and waved it, “With this in hand, a
good time is guaranteed.” She gave Harry a quick kiss, and then she and her mother ran for the
front door giggling like little girls.

“Don’t run in the house!” Geoff bellowed after them.

Harry heard the Porsche start up, the engine revved a few times, and then the unmistakable sound
of tires peeling out on pavement. “Get on it, Hermione!”

“That girl is a terror,” Geoff turned to Harry with an almost maniacal gleam in his eyes. “Now
that they’re gone, we can go have some fun!”

Harry laughed, shook his head and indicated the door with his hand, “After you.”

Mr. Granger didn’t waste a second, like a shot, he was out the door. Harry just shook his head,
and went outside as well.

Mr. Granger was walking around the Harley Davidson, giving it a long appraising look. He
squatted down and peered intently at the V-Twin engine, lightly running his hand over the seat and
fuel tank.

“This is a fine piece of machinery, Harry, a fine piece of machinery.”

Harry walked over and squatted down as well, “Thanks, it was a present from my godfather.”

“That man has excellent taste in bikes.”

“Yeah, he does,” said Harry. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a set of keys.
“Ready to saddle up?”

“I thought you said we’d have to wait for nightfall.”

“To fly we do, but not to ride.”

“In that case,” Mr. Granger’s eyes lit up and he eagerly grabbed the keys and hopped aboard the
big bike. “I can’t believe I’m about to ride a Harley again. This is far out!”

Harry grinned, “Well, are you gonna set there admiring the thing or are you gonna ride?”

“Patience son, you don’t rush an experience like this,” explained Mr. Granger slowly. “It’s like
the first time you have sex, take your time and ease into it.”

Harry blushed crimson, “I…I wouldn’t know anything about that.”

Mr. Granger frowned, “You mean you and Hermione haven’t…?”

“No, sir!” Harry fervently wished that this topic hadn’t come up, but now that he was confronted
by it, he felt the need to explain his actions or lack thereof. “The truth is… we can’t.”

“I’m not trying to encourage you, son, but of course you can.”

Harry searched for a way to explain that wouldn’t have him blatantly stating his reasons.
“Geoff, what do you know about Unicorns?”

Geoff scratched his head, all his excitement about the motorcycle seemingly forgotten. “They’re
the embodiment of purity and innocence, and can only be approached by maidens. Why?”

“Well, the creature we have to contact is a type of flying unicorn, and demands the same
rule.”

“Oh, I see. You can’t because if you did then the creature wouldn’t allow contact.”

“Right, and to prevent any accidents, I placed a ward on Hermione that will…How can I put this
delicately? It will…repel me, if things start getting out of hand.”

Geoff shook his head, “I like the way you think, Harry. That is a very responsible approach to
the whole thing.”

“Thank you, Geoff,” said Harry. He reached over and flipped the ignition switch to ON.

“No problem son,” said Mr. Granger. He seemed to think of something, “Did you want to come with
me or what?”

“Nah, you’ve got far more experience than I have,” said Harry, “I figure you’re perfectly
capable to solo.”

“Alright,” Geoff popped out the kick start lever and jumped on it. The powerful engine roared to
life through the straight pipes, loud enough that Harry noticed several curtains being drawn back
as people peeked outside. “Wow! This thing is loud!” Geoff shouted to make himself heard over the
rumble.

“Would you have it any other way?” Harry shouted back.

Geoff grinned and shook his head, “Hell no!”

“Have fun!” Harry shouted as Mr. Granger popped the clutch and lit up the back tire. The Harley
laid rubber for twenty feet before Geoff let off the accelerator and tore off down the road. Harry
shook his head in amusement. Everyone was entitled to acting childish every once in a while. He
waited for a few more moments, and then taking a quick look around to make sure no one was
watching, he made himself invisible. He took flight, flying just fast enough to catch up to the big
Harley. He decided not to say anything so as not to startle the man, but kept pace a few feet above
the rider’s head. As he flew, his thoughts wandered, never settling on any one thing. He was on a
sort of autopilot, just going with the flow. The wind rushing through his hair helped to clear his
mind, and he settled down to enjoy his flight.

Harry loved flying, and had been overjoyed to discover that with a little practice he could fly
without the need of a broomstick, something that no wizard had ever done. He had kept this tidbit
of information to himself, because he didn’t want anyone to know just how extensive his powers had
become. Arch Mage was bad enough, but if people learned that he could fly without a broom, they
were likely to start worshipping him, and that was something that he was not prepared to deal with.
Although he had given thought to wearing a long red cape instead of the black or gray he usually
wore, just for the look and feel of a real life superhero like most people thought he was. He
smiled when he imagined himself in tights and a cape, a big lightning bolt emblazoned across his
chest. Now there was an image to provide years of humiliation.

Harry knew that as soon as he and Hermione left the Granger’s house they would have to summon
the Alicorn and that as much as he hated to do it, he was going to have to leave the motorcycle
behind. The magical means by which it flew would constitute a violation of the rules by which the
Alicorn Nation operated, and he didn’t want to start out on the wrong foot. He figured that Geoff
would be only too happy to keep an eye on the big bike, and intended to broach the subject later
that night. For the moment however, he was content to fly along behind the motorcycle and just
relax. He closed his eyes, and let the rumble of the bike lull him into an almost sleep like
state.

The sound of the bike downshifting awoke him some time later, and he saw that Geoff was turning
down a long dirt driveway. In the distance, Harry could make out a nice house, and large barn like
structure. The bike roared down the drive, and stopped in front of the barn. A large man, even
bigger than Geoff walked out, wiping his dirty hands on a rag. He smiled when he saw his visitor,
and Harry floated down to listen to their conversation.

“Hi-ya Ranger!” The big man sounded like an American, but his voice had just a touch of a
Canadian inflection, with an underlying Scottish burr. He looked like a smaller version of Hagrid
except he wasn’t as bulky. He stuck his rag in his pocket and offered his hand as Geoff killed the
bike and climbed off.

Geoff took the proffered hand and shook, wincing as the bigger man applied a bit too much
pressure.

“Hey, Bear,” said Geoff, extracting his hand, and rubbing the circulation back into it. “How
many times do I have to tell you to watch your strength?”

The big man looked embarrassed. “Sorry Ranger, ye okay?”

“I’m fine. How have you been?”

“Pretty good, I been working on my new bike.” His eyes alit on the bike behind Geoff. “Say!
Tha’s a right fine piece of hardware there! When did ye get tha’?” He moved closer and knelt down
to get a closer look.

“It’s not mine, it belongs to my daughter’s boyfriend.”

“Ahh, and what do ye think of the boyo?”

“He’s a good kid. From the way Hermione talks about him, you’d think he hung the moon.”

Bear smiled, revealing perfectly white teeth. “Young love eh?”

“Seems like it.”

Bear stood back up and eyed his friend. “Ye don’t sound too happy aboot it.”

Geoff shrugged, and Harry’s ears perked up. “It’s not that I’m unhappy about it, it’s just that
a little over a month ago, she just took off out of the blue because he called her. I haven’t seen
or heard from her in that whole time, and now she said they’re about to leave on a trip together. I
trust her judgment, Bear, but she’s been living with him for over a month, and now they’re taking
an extended trip, and don’t know when they’ll be back. I’ve talked to Harry, and he told me the
particulars, but I’m still worried. There’s something they’re not telling me, I know it!”

“Ach lad, there’s nae need t’ worry.” Bear patted Geoff on the shoulder. “Kids these days keep
lot’s o’ stuff from us old timers.”

“I know that, Bear, but I get the feeling that what they’re involved in is more dangerous than
they’re letting on.”

*“You have no idea just how right you are, Geoff”* Harry thought.

“Now, now, Ranger, ye don’t wanna go gettin’ involved in their business.”

“I know, I know. Beside, that’s not why I came out here.”

“Why did ye, come oot here, then?”

“Well, I’ve got this bike for a few hours, I thought maybe you and me could take a ride.”

Bear grinned, “Jus’ let me get me bike!” He hurried into the garage, and Harry heard another
powerful engine crank. Bear came wheeling out on a bright red Harley similar in design to Harry’s,
but Bear’s was a chopper, with ape hangers and missing the sissy bar. Harry let out a low whistle.
The bike was red with silver and blue flames on the tank. It written across the back fender was the
word, “OUTLAW,” in big block letters.

Bear pulled up next to Harry’s bike and waited for Geoff to climb aboard. “Race ya, Ranger.”

Geoff grinned, “You better believe it!” He fired up the big bike and raised his voice over the
two rumbling brutes. “On three!”

“Ready! One! Two! Three!” Both men counted down, grinning like fools as the big bikes tore off,
leaving a huge cloud of dust in their wake.

Harry grinned, then walked over to the barn, flew up to the roof, and making himself
comfortable, settled down for a nice nap.

T.B.C.

*Author’s Note:* Sorry this took so long, lots of delays, please read and review! Keep an
eye out for Chapter 6: **The Return of Ron**.



6. Chapter 6
------------

**Author’s Note***: I know most of you will threaten me again here, I may get another
chapter out here in another month or so. I finish this one quite awhile ago, just forgot to upload
it. Enjoy!*

**Disclaimer***: I don’t own Harry Potter, but I wish I did.*

**Chapter 6**

Harry had just closed his eyes when all of a sudden, he sat bolt upright cursing himself for
seven different kinds of fool. It had occurred to him, that in their haste to get outside, neither
he nor Mr. Granger had locked or even shut the front door!

“Moody would have my head for a mistake like that!” he grumbled to himself.

Closing his eyes again, he willed himself back to Hermione’s house, and when he opened his eyes,
he was standing in the parlor looking at the open door. Cursing again, he pushed it shut and leaned
his head against it. Now that he was thinking defensively, it hit him, for the first time in nearly
four years, that with Voldemort trying to come back, all those he cared about would become targets
once again. And, since it was inevitable that someone would spill the beans about him and Hermione,
she and her parents would be at the top of the list.

Harry growled at the thought, and set about making sure that nothing would ever happen to the
Grangers. He marched to Mr. Granger’s study and retrieved a whole armload of weapons, both firearms
and blades, arranging one of each type in every room of the house. He couldn’t explain how he cast
the spells that would make the weapons defend the Granger house with deadly skill, he just knew
what he wanted them to do, and his will made it happen. He smiled when he thought about the
surprise that awaited any that crossed the Grangers’ threshold with dark purposes in mind. They
wouldn’t even have time to realize what had killed them.

With the offensive measures in place, he went about setting up wards to prevent anyone from
Apparating in. He couldn’t do anything about the street outside, but he could see to it that every
square inch of the Grangers’ property was protected, and that’s just what he did. He left the house
by the back door, and skirting the pool, headed for the property line, putting up a number of
wards, and early alarm spells that would alert the inside guardians to possible danger. He would
have liked to have made the house unplottable, but that was not possible; it wasn’t that he
couldn’t do it; it’s just that if he did, no one else would be able to come to the Grangers’ aid if
the guardians and wards failed.

When Harry was satisfied that he had done everything in his more than considerable power to
insure the Grangers’ safety, he turned his feet towards the house and his thoughts to his last two
years at Hogwarts. He wasn’t exactly sure just why he was in the mood to reminisce, but for some
strange reason, he was feeling very nostalgic, and rather than fight the feeling, he embraced it.
He had learned the hard way that when his subconscious had something to say, he’d damn sure better
listen, and this seemed like one of those times.

*“I’ve never steered you wrong yet,”* said Hermione’s voice in his head, and he shook his
head.

“Nope, you sure haven’t.” Harry entered the Grangers’ home and made his way to the living room.
He plopped down on the sofa and closed his eyes, thinking back…back

****Five years earlier, the beginning of the Trio’s sixth year at Hogwarts****

**A body crumpled to the floor, and he rushed forward, his wand gripped tightly in a white
knuckled fist. The person’s body shifted slightly, the long, black hair turning brown, the large
male form shrinking and becoming female. He dropped to his knees beside the body, his breathing
ragged.*

*“NO! YOU CAN’T BE DEAD! I WON’T LET YOU DIE!” He laid his hands on the girl, a bright green
glow emanating from his emerald eyes. She stirred and looked up at him…*

*“Harry?”*

*He felt tears well up in his eyes, and he gathered her to him.*

*“I’m so glad you’re safe.”*

*“Me too.”*

*“I don’t know what I would do without you.”*

*“Harry?” the girl’s voice was husky. “I…”*

*“What?” He stared into her deep brown eyes, noticing for the first time that they were like
bottomless pits, just waiting for some lucky soul to fall in.*

*“I—I…”*

*“Harry.!” Another voice, but this one was deeper, less husky.*

*He shook his head, he had to be hearing things, girls’ voices didn’t sound like that,
especially not hers.*

*“I—I—I…” she stuttered, straining to get the words out.*

*“HARRY!” No mistake this time, definitely masculine, but her smoldering eyes still bored into
him and he felt a jolt both physical and emotional as she flashed a small smile.*

*“Tell me,” he pleaded.*

*“HARRY!” He ignored the irritating male voice and focused on the girl.*

*“Please,” he begged, “I have to hear it first!”*

*The girl’s eyes brightened with unshed tears, “I—I—lo…”*

“HARRY!” Ron Weasley’s voice echoed through Harry’s room at 12 Grimmauld Place, his words
cutting through the dream and waking the occupant of the room.

“Huh?” 15-year-old Harry Potter sat up in bed, knuckling sleep from his eyes and reaching for
his glasses. The memories of his nightmare left him, all but obliterated by Ron’s wake up call, the
only concrete image in his head, one of deep brown eyes.

“It’s nine o’clock, Harry, breakfast is ready, and if you want some, you’d better get downstairs
on the double. Plus, the Hogwarts’ letters have arrived with our O.W.L results; we’re all waiting
to open them together, so hurry up!” The tall redhead wasted no time, and bounded from the
room.

“I hate when he does that.” Harry mumbled, throwing off the covers and rising to his feet. He
was a thin young man, his frame beginning to show the muscle definition gained from years of hard
work at his Aunt and Uncle’s house; his normally short, messy black hair had grown out and now hung
in his emerald eyes, and curled down almost to his broad but bony shoulders, a style he had adopted
in homage to his departed godfather, Sirius Black. Clad only in a pair of sweat pants, he headed
for the shower, bumping into someone as he left his room.

“Oof!” He grabbed the person to keep both of them balanced; he didn’t want to start the day by
falling down the stairs.

“I’m sorry, Harry!”

Harry looked down into the same smoldering eyes he had been dreaming about.

“Er…uh…sorry, Hermione, I should have been watching where I was going.” He noticed that she had
grabbed his upper arms to keep her balance, and that the two of them were standing very close.

“Well, if you would get that mop out of your eyes, it might facilitate matters.” She snorted,
stepping back a pace.

Harry pushed his hair back, grinning. “But, I like it this way!”

Hermione shrugged, “It’s your funeral.” Her eyes widened suddenly as she realized what she said.
“Oh, Harry! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that!”

It had been a major blow to Harry, that without a body, they were unable to have a funeral for
Sirius, so he was denied even that little bit of closure. Also, the Ministry of Magic still had not
exonerated him of the crimes that had landed him in Azkaban, so they were unable to announce his
death, as that would as good as admit that they had been harboring a known fugitive, and that would
have landed several members of the Order, as well as Harry himself, Hermione, and Ron in serious,
no pun intended, trouble.

Harry shook his head, stepped around her and headed for the bathroom, trying to reconcile the
image he had in his head earlier with the real thing, and failing miserably.

“Harry!” she said, catching up to him.

He stopped walking, eyeing the door to the bathroom just ten feet away, then turned to face
her.

“What?”

“I’m here if you need someone to talk to, day or night, feel free to call on me,” Hermione’s
voice was soft, and she put her hand on his arm.

“Thanks, Hermione, but I’m fine. I just wish people would stop bugging me about this.”

Hermione looked hurt, “Is that what you think I’m doing?”

Harry ran his hand through his hair, “I don’t know, I don’t know anything anymore.”

“Harry…”

Harry raised a hand, “No. Don’t start, not right now, and not here. I’ll talk to you about it
later, in private, I promise, but right now, I just want my shower, then I want to look at my
letter from school.”

Hermione shot him a defiant look, “Alright, Harry. This will keep…for now.” She turned away and
went downstairs.

Harry sighed and went in for his morning shower. While he waited for the water to warm up, he
brushed his teeth.

*“You know I’m not going to let this go, right?”* Hermione’s voice echoed in his head.

“Yeah, I know,” he said, stripping off his pants and briefs and getting in the shower. “Just
please leave me alone for now though.”

*“Fine, this will keep…for now,”* the voice parroted the real Hermione’s words and he
winced.

“How did you ever get in my head?” he asked, leaning his head against the wall.

*“Do you really need ME to answer that? Or do you perhaps have your own ideas as to how I got
here?”*

“Yeah, yeah, I know, I know. Now shut up.” Harry grabbed the shampoo and went to work on his
unruly hair.

When Harry finished with his shower, he realized that with everything on his mind, he had
forgotten to bring a change of clothes in, and the pants he had slept in were right at that moment
keeping his wet feet from touching the floor.

He looked up at the ceiling, “Why me?” He grabbed a towel off the shelf and wrapped it around
his waist, tucking the end securely into the top, and threw open the door, intending to get to his
room without anything else happening to him. He wasn’t that lucky.

He had almost made it back to his room, when his glasses slipped down his wet nose and onto the
floor, before he could stop himself, his descending foot sent them sliding across the polished
hardwood and through the railings of the landing. He listened and could just make out the sound of
them shattering on the floor below.

“Memo to self, have carpet put on the landings, no, never mind, scratch that, have bathroom put
in my room,” Harry grumbled. He couldn’t see a thing, just vague shapes, and a huge blur; he
stretched out his hands to feel his way back to his room. Of course, he wouldn’t be any better off
there, because without his glasses, he wouldn’t even be able to find his clothes. He thought for a
moment, then gave up; it was time to ask for help, and he knew of only one person that would not
laugh at his predicament, so much as he hated to do it….

“HERMIONE!” he yelled, hoping she would hear him quickly.

He waited a few seconds then shouted again; this time he got an answer.

“What’s up, Harry?” Ginny Weasley asked from somewhere down below.

“Nothin’, can you get Hermione for me?”

“No need, I’m here.” Hermione said. “What is it, Harry?”

“Uh…Could you come up here a moment?”

“Sure, I’ll be right there.” He heard her footsteps speed up and then the *clomp* as she
hit the stairs.

“Harry!” He could hear the blush in her voice. “What are you doing out in the open like
that?”

Harry pointed at his eyes, “My glasses slipped off and fell down there,” he waved a hand in the
general direction of the railing. “I can’t see anything, and rather than tempt fate even more than
I usually do, I decided to do what you’re always telling me to do, which is ask for help. So, will
you help me?”

“Of course I will, but I have to ask why you in your present condition would ask me and not
Ron?”

Harry frowned, “Ron would laugh at me.”

“Okay, Harry, the first thing we need to do is get you into your room, give me your hand.”

Harry stuck out his hand, and immediately felt small, slender fingers wrap around his own. There
was a slight tug, and he took a cautious step forward. The blurry view was disorienting, and he
closed his eyes.

“Don’t run me into any walls,” he said, grinning.

“Harry,” Hermione warned.

“Okay, you drive,” Harry shut up and let Hermione lead, and just a few seconds later, he was
safely in his room with the door shut.

“Alright, Harry, you stay here, and I’ll go fix your glasses, just be thankful we can perform
magic inside the house without it being detected, otherwise I’d have to bring in one of the
adults.”

“Thanks,” he said, sinking down onto his unmade bed.

“You’re welcome.” The door shut and her footsteps faded.

In no time at all, the door was opened again and she came back in the room.

“Boy, Harry, you really did a number on them this time! They must have been in at least a dozen
pieces!”

Harry still had his eyes closed when he felt something cool touch his face by his eyes. He felt
the comfortable weight of his glasses on the bridge of his nose and he opened his eyes to find
himself staring into a pair of dark brown pools that contained a strange flicker, but she blinked
and it was gone.

“There you are, Harry, good as new.” Hermione said, pushing his glasses up on his nose. Harry
caught her hands before she could let go and held them tightly.

“Thank you, Hermione, for everything.”

“No problem, Harry,” Hermione’s cheeks turned pink but she didn’t drop her gaze. “I’m here for
you, Harry.”

“Yeah, I know.” He released her hands, but didn’t back away, and neither did she.

“Know, what?” Ron asked, walking in and giving them both a strange look. He took in their
closeness and Harry’s state of undress. “What were you guys talking about?”

“Not much, just O.W.L.s, Hermione was telling me the same thing you did earlier, about the two
of you waiting for me.” For some reason, Harry didn’t want to share what had happened with Ron.

“Right, and I told him that I was getting tired of waiting,” Hermione said, taking her cue from
him.

“Oh, I was just wondering, because I heard you call for her,” said Ron, his eyes narrowed.

“I wanted to ask her if she was going to continue with the D.A. as well as S.P.E.W.” said
Harry.

“It couldn’t wait until you were dressed?”

Harry shook his head, “No, it couldn’t. I needed to know about the D.A. thing so I can owl
Dumbledore and McGonagall as soon as possible, so I can set up time in my schedule this year to
teach it. I figure that with Hermione’s help, I can work on the plans, while she looks up the stuff
in the library.”

“What about me?”

“I figured you would be too busy trying to land the Quidditch captain’s position.”

Ron’s eyes lit up, “Say, that’s right! Angelina won’t be there this year, so the captainship
will be open again.”

“Yep, now if you two will excuse me, I’d like to get dressed.” He ushered his two best friends
out the door and closed it in their faces.

*“You lied to Ron.”*

“I know, and don’t start,” Harry admonished the voice in his head and set about getting ready
for the day. Not really in the mood for bright, cheery colors, he chose a thin, long sleeved, black
shirt, black jeans and black sneakers. He got dressed quickly, hoping that when the other occupants
of the house saw him dressed in such somber colors, that they would be reminded that even if he did
not act melancholy every second of the day, he was still mourning, and would appreciate some
consideration.

Harry entered the kitchen to find everyone sitting around the table discussing various things.
He spotted three thick letters lying on the table next to Hermione, but instead of going and
picking his up, he instead went to the stove and grabbed a few slices of bacon, slapping them
between two pieces of bread, and slowly taking a bite. Ron, Ginny, and Hermione watched him, while
their guardians, Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, and Alastor “Mad Eye” Moody continued their
conversation.

“Harry, c’mon! I’m dying to see how I did on the tests!” Hermione said.

Swallowing what he had in his mouth, Harry paused a moment, “Aw, Hermione, who do you think
you’re fooling? You know you aced it.”

Hermione blushed, “Maybe, but I won’t know for sure until you finish that blasted sandwich, and
for the love of Merlin, take bigger bites!”

Harry chuckled and did as she asked, making the sandwich disappear after three more bites. He
made a show of sucking each fingertip in case there were any crumbs and Hermione sighed loudly in
obvious exasperation.

“Harry!”

Harry took a deep breath and slowly released it, “Okay, I guess I’m ready to see how bad I
did.”

“Harry, don’t say that,” said Hermione grabbing his letter and tossing it to him. She already
had hers and was about to peel it open when he cleared his throat.

“On three, Hermione,” said Harry, looking at her and Ron. They nodded. “One.”

“Two!” said Hermione.

“Three,” Ron said, though nowhere near as eager as Hermione.

The three teens tore open their letters simultaneously, and flipped to the page with the O.W.L.
results.

Hermione shrieked and fell into her chair, Harry’s eyes bugged and Ron groaned. The Trio looked
at one another, then at the parchment in each other’s hands.

“Well? What did you get?” Hermione asked.

Ron clenched his in his fist and stuffed his hand in his pocket, muttering, “Mum is going to
kill me,” as he stomped out of the room. Ginny hopped up and quickly followed.

“How’d you do, Harry?” asked Lupin, looking up at Ron and Ginny’s departure.

Harry still couldn’t believe his eyes, and Hermione gave him a worried look.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad, Harry,” she said. “Here, let me see.”

Hermione snatched the parchment from his hand and skimmed it, her eyes growing wide, before she
shrieked again and smothered him in a huge hug. “Ten O.W.L.s, Harry that’s wonderful!”

Harry was still in shock, “Er…I think they sent me your results instead.”

“No, they’re yours. I got thirteen,” she said, blushing.

“Thirteen? Hermione, that’s great!” Lupin dropped his teacup, while Tonks came around the table
and hugged her. Moody stood up and clapped both Hermione and a still dazed Harry on the back.

“Well done, you two.” His magic eye revolved in its socket to stare in the direction Ron had
gone. “I think you should go check on Weasley.”

Harry finally managed to get his wits about him and looked at Hermione. “Yeah, we better.”

They left the kitchen and went to find Ron and Ginny. They found them in one of the sitting
rooms, Ron with his head in his hands, and Ginny patting his shoulder.

“What’s the damage, mate?” asked Harry, squatting down in front of him while Hermione took the
seat on his other side.

“I got seven,” Ron mumbled.

“That’s not so bad,” said Harry. “It’s more than Fred and George got.”

“That’s what I’ve been telling him, but he won’t listen,” Ginny piped up. “He just keeps
repeating that Mum is going to kill him.”

“Seven O.W.L.s is not bad, Ron, if you did your very best, then you have nothing to be ashamed
of.” Hermione said.

“How many did you get, twelve, like Bill?” asked Ginny. “Because Bill has gotten more O.W.L.s
than anybody in the family, and seven is only five less than twelve, and that isn’t bad at
all.”

Hermione blushed crimson, “I’d rather not say.”

“What’s wrong, Hermione?” said Ginny, “You not get as many as Bill?”

“Yeah, Hermione, you embarrassed because you didn’t do as well as my big brother?”

Harry started to say something, but a glance from Hermione stopped him.

“Something like that, Ron, something like that,” she said.

“What about you, Harry?” asked Ron. “How many did you get?”

Harry didn’t want to hurt Ron’s feelings, so he just waved a hand,

“About the same as you,” he said. “Those tests were tougher than I thought.”

“Yeah, that’s what nearly everybody says after they get their results,” said Ron, perking
up.

“Maybe we should read the rest of our letters now,” said Hermione, carefully folding her results
and putting them in the hip pocket of her jeans. She raised her letter and Harry and Ron did the
same.

*Mr. Potter,*

*You know the routine by now, so I shall dispense with everything that is inconsequential.
Your O.W.L. results are included in this letter, and I would like to congratulate you on a job well
done. I expect to see you putting one hundred percent of your effort into your studies this year,
only by doing this, will you achieve your goal of becoming an Auror.*

*Your life time Quidditch ban is still in effect, and due to massive amounts of legislation
passed by Minister Fudge during Ms. Umbridge’s reign here, it is proving more difficult to lift
than we had thought possible. Rest assured though. If there is any way for you to be placed back on
the team, I shall find it.*

Harry frowned, but wasn’t really upset. Quidditch belonged to his past, a time when Sirius was
still alive and he wasn’t aware of the prophecy, when winning the Quidditch Cup was one of his
primary goals at school. Now, he found that he wasn’t anxious to risk his Firebolt, his first
present from his godfather, in a frivolous game. He knew that with his ban still in effect, he
would have an ironclad reason why he wasn’t playing, and the thought comforted him. He wasn’t
letting his teammates down, because it wasn’t his fault that he wasn’t allowed to play. He
continued reading.

*The Headmaster and I have decided that due to your performance and fulfillment of your
obligations last year, as well as the events that transpired, you have shown that you could have
handled being Prefect, so as of this moment, that mistake has been rectified, your Prefect badge is
enclosed, remember, you are a role model, and I expect you to conduct yourself as such.*

*It is the fervent wish of both the Headmaster and myself, that you continue your D.A. class,
and though you may loathe the idea, you should think about admitting Slytherin students as well as
the other three houses. Your Prefect status should give you some modicum of control over them as
opposed to brute force as is your normal method of dealing with them. Since you no longer have
Quidditch to worry about, you may schedule your D.A. classes around the practice times of each
team. I fully expect a lesson plan for the entire year, on my desk the day after you return to
school. I suggest you entice Ms. Granger into taking care of that for you. For your efforts, the
both of you shall receive standard teaching wages, and admittance to staff meetings. The
information you learn at such meetings, is of course strictly confidential, and is not to be spoken
of where others might overhear. Because of this, your rooms shall have a silencing charm placed
upon them, so that the two of you may converse without fear of anyone eavesdropping. In addition,
as teachers, the two of you are no longer bound by the Restriction of Underage Magic, and on top of
your other studies, you shall receive Apparation training.*

*I look forward to this year, for I sense that things are about to get better.*

*Your book list is included, as is the sheet you need to fill out for this year’s classes you
wish to take.*

*Sincerely,*

*Minerva McGonagall*

*(Deputy Headmistress)*

*“Well, that certainly wasn’t a normal school letter.”* Harry thought. *“Whoa, Hermione
and me, teachers, on top of being Prefects, and no more restrictions on our magic? Wow!”*

Harry carefully turned up the envelope that he still clutched in his other hand, secretly
palming the shiny, red and gold badge before anyone noticed. He slipped it in his pocket, along
with the envelope, and flipped to his book list. His eyes ran down the page, noticing that it was
the standard fare, just for the appropriate year. He looked up to see Hermione flash him a smile as
she openly turned up her envelope and caught the Prefect badge inside. Ginny looked up as she did
so and frowned.

“Ron, where’s your badge this year?”

Ron’s head was back in his hands. “I lost it.”

“What do you mean, you lost it? You were supposed to turn it in to Professor McGonagall before
leaving the school!” Hermione said, glaring at him.

“I didn’t lose it; they took it away from me!” Ron bellowed, and stormed out of the room, Ginny
again hot on his heels.

“Ron, wait up, it’s not the end of the world!”

Harry felt bad for his friend, but given Ron’s performance last year, he hadn’t been the model
Prefect like Hermione had.

“You got it, didn’t you.” It wasn’t a question, and Harry blushed.

“Yeah, but I never would have taken it from him,” he said, grimacing, “not in a million
years.”

“Don’t blame yourself, Harry, Professor Dumbledore obviously feels that you’re more capable of
handling the responsibility, or he wouldn’t have given it to you.”

“I know, but it meant so much to Ron.”

“Harry, you and I both know that Ron only liked being a Prefect because of the power it gave him
over the other students.”

“Yeah, I know that too, and speaking of power over other students, McGonagall and Dumbledore
want me to continue teaching the D.A. and they want me to include any Slytherins that might be
interested.” Harry snorted, “Can you believe that?”

Hermione nodded, “Yes, I can. With everything that has happened, inter-house relations are
abysmal, and this might just help bridge that gap.”

“Another thing, McGonagall wants…here, just read this,” he handed her the letter and took the
chair Ron had vacated.

Harry watched Hermione’s eyes track slowly across the page as she read the letter. When she
finished she handed it back to him and beamed.

“That’s wonderful! Harry, we’re going to be teachers, real, paid teachers! Oh, I can’t believe
it; I just can’t believe it! I have to tell Mum and Dad! Can I borrow Hedwig?” she said all this in
a rush, and Harry smiled.

“Hermione, you should know by now that you can borrow her anytime you like.”

Hermione blushed, “Well, it’s just polite to ask, you know.”

“Yeah, I know, now get out of here and go tell them the great news,” he said. “I’m gonna go talk
to Lupin, Moody, and Tonks and tell them to keep quiet about our results.”

“Good idea, Harry,” Hermione started to take off, but stopped and flung her arms around his
neck. “Congratulations on the Prefecture, and I’m sorry you can’t play Quidditch.”

Harry hugged her back, and then stepped away. “Thanks, and I wasn’t going to play this year
anyway.”

Hermione’s eyes bugged out, her eyebrows shot up, and her jaw dropped. Harry could see she was
more surprised by his statement than she had been by her 13 O.W.L.s *or* McGonagall’s
letter.

“You weren’t?” she asked.

Harry shook his head, “No, I have more important things to do than worry about that, besides,
I’m not going to risk anything happening to my Firebolt, Siri—Sirius gave it to me, and no silly
game is worth it possibly getting damaged.”

“Harry…” Hermione shook her head, “I can’t tell you how proud I am of you.”

Harry shrugged, “Hey, we all have to grow up sometime, right?” he said, his voice choked.

“I—I—I don’t—don’t know what to say, Harry,” Hermione was near tears herself, “that is a very
mature attitude to take.”

Harry shook himself out of his funk and squeezed her hand, “Sorry to bring you down, you should
go owl your parents now, while I go talk to the grownups.” He rose to his feet and without a
backward glance left the sitting room.

Harry entered the kitchen to find Lupin reading the Daily Prophet, and Moody and Tonks deep in
conversation.

“—need to set up some kind of training for the kids, something to make them stronger as well as
hone their reflexes— Tonks was saying, but broke off when Harry came in.

“So, Potter, how is Weasley doing?” asked Moody.

“Not good, he only got 7 O.W.L.s, and Dumbledore took away his Prefect badge.”

“Ooh, poor Ron, he must be devastated,” said Tonks.

“Yeah, he’s pretty upset about it, and I’d like to ask the three of you for a couple of
favors.”

“What kind of favors, Harry?” said Lupin, looking up from the Daily Prophet.

“Well, me and Hermione would like for you guys to keep our results to yourselves. I told Ron
that I made around the same as him, and Hermione managed an even more vague answer. We don’t want
him to feel bad, so can we keep this all quiet?” he said.

“Sure thing, Harry, we won’t tell a soul,” Tonks grinned.

Moody gave him a knowing look, “That’s only one favor, Potter. What was the other one?”

Harry rubbed the back of his neck, “Well, I was thinking that I need something to take Ron’s
mind off his results and losing his badge, so I figured I’d invite Luna Lovegood and Neville
Longbottom to come and stay for a couple of days, and the six of us could go to the cinema, my
treat.”

“Harry, you know it’s dangerous to go out,” Lupin admonished.

“I know, but I need something to take his mind off stuff, and I also wanted to keep it from
being obvious as to what I was doing. I figured if Luna and Neville showed up, then it would look
more like going was their idea or something like that.”

“It’s a nice thought, Harry, and I have no problem going and getting them,” said Tonks.

“I agree, excellent idea, Harry, I’ll contact Neville’s grandmother and Luna’s father
immediately.”

“Thank you, Professor.”

Lupin sighed, “Harry, you don’t have to call me, Professor anymore, Moony or Remus will be
fine.”

Harry grinned, “Sorry, Moon—er—Remus.” He wanted to call his parents’ old friend by his
nickname, but it just didn’t feel right, almost as if it were disrespectful.

“I don’t much like the idea of the six of you out in public, but if you promise to be vigilant,
I won’t object,” said Moody.

Harry smiled, “Professor, after what I’ve been through this past year, I can promise you that
CONSTANT VIGILANCE is constantly on my mind, and I fully expect you to be keeping an ‘eye’ on us
anyway.”

Mad Eye Moody smiled, and the effect was frightening, “You’re learning, Potter, you’re learning.
Tonks, let’s go see what we can do about those exercises we were discussing. ” He clumped out of
the room, followed by Tonks.

“Was that all, Harry?” asked Lupin.

“Yeah, thanks.”

Harry left the kitchen, and began wandering the halls, something he had taken to doing when he
first arrived at the house at the beginning of summer. He had decided that this place he would be
calling home, needed to be explored, but hadn’t had the gumption to actually investigate anything,
contenting himself with simply walking the halls; it was a way to pace without staying in the same
place. He wasn’t sure when Luna and Neville would arrive, or even if they would, and he figured
someone would come find him when they did, so he didn’t feel bad about exploring the old house. He
avoided the cleaned rooms, knowing that a family as dark as the Blacks had been would not have the
interesting stuff in plain site. He closed his eyes as he walked, reaching out with his senses,
using his magic like a metal detector, and stopping immediately when he realized what he was
doing.

Could magic be used in such a fashion? He didn’t know, but it sure seemed to be working, and
since it wasn’t too taxing on his abilities, he continued. It struck him as he walked, that he had
yet to see an armory. All the old manors and mansions in the movies had armories, but Grimmauld
Place did not…or if it did, he had not found it yet. With an actual goal in mind, he set off once
more, seeking concentrations of metal.

Harry’s magic led him throughout the house, into sitting rooms and bathrooms, storage rooms and
basements, until finally, he ended up looking at a small doorway set into the wall under the
stairs. He shuddered at the memories it brought back of his own cupboard, but this doorway was
large, painted to look like the wall, and so artfully done, one wouldn’t even see it for what it
was, even when right up close. He could detect no magic energy surrounding the entrance, so he
reached out and felt for a release. But as his fingers came into contact with the wood, a bright
blue spark shot out, connecting his fingertips and the doorway and it slowly opened…

Harry’s eyes widened, it was huge! The room was laid out like a suburban street, with bushes,
and hedges lining the roadside. There were the shadows of what he took to be houses on both sides,
and as he stepped over the threshold, the door shut behind him. He had taken two steps in, his head
swiveling to take everything in, when suddenly someone shouted.

*“STUPEFY!”*

A bright beam of red light shot from somewhere on Harry’s right, but he didn’t waste time
looking for it, he threw himself forward into a dive, landed on his shoulder and rolled behind a
bush, his wand out.

“*EXPELLIARMUS!”* another voice cried, and Harry had to roll again. Correctly figuring that
his hiding spot had been well spotted before the ambush, he drew his legs up to his chest and
launched his body sideways. He rolled to his feet and ran as fast as he could for a large hedgerow
where one set of the beams seemed to be coming from. Beams hit the ground near him, but he didn’t
slow down, ducking and weaving, zigging and zagging, he sped up. At full speed, he leaped over the
hedgerow, turning in midair he landed with his wand aimed at the person hidden behind it.

“Hi, Tonks!”

“Wotcher, Harry, looks like you got me,” Tonks lowered her wand. “Nice dodging back there,
where’d you learn stuff like that?”

Harry was about to respond, but a cold voice spoke up from behind him. “Is this what you call
CONSTANT VIGILANCE?”

“Sorry, Professor, I figured that since Tonks gave up the exercise or whatever you call this is,
was over.”

“Boy, nothing is ever over until all your enemies are down. What you should have done, was
stunned her as soon as your feet touched down, then using her hiding place started shooting at me
until you ascertained where I was,” Moody growled.

Harry looked around, “What is this place, Professor?”

Moody waved his wand, and they were suddenly standing in a large cavernous room with suits of
armor lining the walls, padded suits in cabinets, and row upon row of weapons racks.

“Welcome to the Black Family Armory, boy.”

“But I thought that armories were just rooms with weapons,” said Harry, “I had no idea that they
could be training facilities as well!”

“Normally they’re not,” said Tonks. “Wizards never train their bodies, relying on magic to
enhance their speed and agility, but through tests, we’ve learned that those Aurors that were
Muggleborn and had access to physical training did much better than regular Aurors that had none.
Case in point, the way you dove and rolled to avoid the beams, a normal wizard would have just used
a shield charm.”

“I understand,” said Harry.

“Good, because you’re going to help us test your friends,” said Moody. “If Granger, the two
Weasleys, Longbottom, and Lovegood had been physically fit, then they would have done better at the
Ministry.”

Harry felt his face get red. The reason they had been at the Ministry was his fault, and even
though they had not been that fit, both Hermione and Neville had done a good job, and Luna had been
the only one to come out completely unscathed.

“So,” continued Moody, “you, me, and Tonks are going to whip them into shape…the hard way.”

Harry frowned, “Er...Professor…Shouldn’t I train with them?”

“You will be, Potter, but not at first,” growled Moody. “I’ve watched you, and I’ve listened to
every account of the fight at the Ministry, and it all points to you surviving numerous attacks
because you used cover, and you used your agility to avoid incoming curses and hexes. I’ve been in
the business a long time, I know how Wizards fight, and you don’t fight like a Wizard. If we’re
gonna win this war, then we can’t fight like the enemy expects us to, we have to change our styles.
You’ve already done this, and once we’ve taught you all we know, you’ll be able to help us teach
your friends, and when you start that D.A. thing again, you’ll have some new stuff to show
them.”

Harry sighed, “What did you have in mind for me?”

Moody turned to Tonks, “What’s the word?”

“Boot camp,” said Tonks, no trace of humor on her face at all. “First thing in the morning, I’ll
come and get you, and we’ll do several rounds of running and jumping, diving and rolling. I’ll be
firing, you’ll of course, be the one doing all the hard work. After three hours of that, the rest
of the day is yours, but the sooner you get in shape, the sooner you can get your friends
involved.”

“Why exactly do I have to go first though?”

“You’ve got the instincts, Potter, and we’ll need someone to demonstrate the activities, and
even though you’re pretty strong, you are by far the most malnourished of all, this will give you a
chance to put on some much needed muscle and weight,” said Moody.

“Oh,” said Harry, beginning to feel like he had been drafted.

“I know this seems like a lot, Harry, but believe me, once you start doing all the work, you’ll
be thankful we allowed you the chance to get into shape. Besides,” Tonks grinned, “you wouldn’t
want to look weak in front of your friends, now would you?”

“No, no I wouldn’t.”

“Alright, it’s settled then, I’ll see you first thing in the morning.”

Harry raised an eyebrow, “What time is, ‘first thing in the morning?’”

Tonks smiled broadly, “Let’s just say, you might not want to stay up too late.”

“Great,” Harry muttered, turning around and leaving the room. “Why did I ever have to go in
there?”

“They would have gotten you even if you hadn’t,” said Lupin, setting in a chair and reading a
book. He set it down and looked up at Harry. “I take it they’ve set every thing up?”

“Yeah, and whether I like it or not, looks like I just got volunteered to get up very early and
get shot at.”

Lupin smiled, “Just console yourself with the fact that your friends will be undergoing the same
thing, only you’ll be one of those firing at them.”

Harry grinned, “I know.”

“By the way, Miss Lovegood and Mister Longbottom are in the kitchen with Hermione.”

“Still no sign of Ron?”

“No,” Lupin shook his head. “Hermione said she heard voices in his room, so he and Ginny must be
there. She said that they ignored her when she knocked, so she came back downstairs.”

“Okay, thanks.”

***

Harry entered the kitchen to find Neville eating a bowl of cereal, and Hermione and Luna
discussing Crumple Horned Snorkacks. He snorted to himself at Hermione trying desperately to keep
her irritation from her voice as she tried for the nth time to tell Luna that there was no such
thing. Luna, as was her way, just shrugged it off.

“You can’t prove they don’t exist, Hermione,” said Luna, crossing her arms across her chest.

“And *you* can’t prove that they *do*!” Hermione slammed her hand down on the table
and shot to her feet. “I don’t want to argue with you, Luna, but there is no record of those
creatures anywhere!”

Luna looked down at her *Quibbler*, “Perhaps you haven’t looked in the right places.”

Hermione threw her hands up, “I give up! You want to believe that there are Crumple Horned
Snorkacks running around, fine, have at it!”

Harry took that opportunity to slip in unnoticed, and placed a restraining hand on Hermione’s
shoulder.

“Easy, Hermione,” he whispered, and she flashed him a small smile. “Luna, Neville, glad you
could make it!” he said.

“Thanks for the invitation,” said Luna. “Do you know if Ronald will be coming down any time
soon?”

Harry shook his head, “No, Luna, I don’t. You’re more than welcome to go try and get him
though.”

Luna stood up, “Thanks, I think I’ll just go do that,” she said, and left the room.

Neville finished drinking the milk in his bowl, “Thanks for inviting me, Harry.”

“No problem, Neville,” Harry shrugged.

“So, why am I here?”

“Funny you should ask,” Harry’s mind raced. He couldn’t very well tell Neville about Ron’s bad
results, so he wracked his brain for something that Neville could help with, without it being an
obvious fabrication. His eyes alit on something outside the kitchen window, and he grinned, “I was
outback yesterday, and I noticed an old greenhouse behind the shed, I think I saw some of that
*Mimbletonia* plant inside, and figured that since you’re so good in Herbology, you might like
to fix it up or something.”

Neville’s eyes lit up, “Really? Wow! Gee, thanks, Harry! D’you mind if I go take a look at
it?”

Harry waved a hand, “Nah, I have no use for it, so consider it yours.”

Neville started to say something else, but Harry waved him off. “Go on, have fun.”

“Thanks, Harry!” Neville was out the door like a shot.

“That was very nice of you, Harry,” Hermione smiled.

Harry turned to face her, “I have to talk to you.”

Hermione’s smile vanished at his tone, “What is it, Harry?”

Harry started to pace, “Moody and Tonks want the six of us to start training. They’re starting
with me in the morning, and when I’ve gotten it down, I’m to invite the rest of you. It’s
obstacles, running, diving, stuff like that.”

“Why are you telling me this, now? If they wish to teach you first, before the rest of us,
shouldn’t you wait until you’ve learned it before telling me?”

Harry shook his head, “No, I’m not keeping anything from you. You above everyone else have been
the most loyal to me, and I will not betray that loyalty by hiding things from you.”

“Oh, Harry,” Hermione’s eyes filled with tears and she flung herself into his arms.

Harry hugged her back, “It means a lot to me that you are the only person that has never lied to
me or let me down in any way, and I know I’ve hid things from you in the past, and I’ve lied to you
to avoid you getting on my case about something, but that’s not going to happen anymore. I lost
Sirius because I didn’t listen to you, and…” Harry wasn’t sure if he couldn’t finish because
Hermione’s arms around his neck tightened, cutting off his air, or because his throat had tightened
with emotions he knew he couldn’t voice yet.

“Well, isn’t this a lovely sight?” Ron’s voice intruded on their moment, and they broke apart,
looking to where he stood glaring, a frowning Ginny and a smiling Luna, flanking him. “What’s got
you two so cozy all of a sudden?”

Harry thought quickly, he couldn’t tell Ron what he had told Hermione, because like it or not,
Ron had let him down in the past. He found himself going with the first thing to enter his head.
“Professor McGonagall wants to continue the D.A. and she’s going to pay Hermione to teach it,” he
said, sliding into a lie quicker and smoother than he would have ever thought possible.

Ron frowned, “Oh really? I thought you were the teacher of the D.A. and Hermione was just
another one of the students.”

Harry shook his head, “No, no, I’m just the practical instructor, Hermione is the teacher. She’s
the one that has to find all the new spells and such.”

“So once again, it’s you two leading and the rest of us following,” Ron snorted.

“Well, they are the best in the school,” said Neville, coming in from outside, his hands and
clothes dirty. “It’s really no wonder, Ron, they’re awesome as individuals, but when they work
together, no one stands a chance against them. You should have seen them fighting Death Eaters in
the Department of Mysteries, they were spectacular!” he finally noticed the two girls with Ron and
his cheeks reddened. “Uh…hi, Ginny,” he said.

“Hi, Neville,” said Ginny. “Where have you been?”

“Harry told me about the greenhouse out back, so I’ve been out there looking around.”

“Looks more like you were rolling around,” grumbled Ron, still frowning at Harry and Hermione.
Neville looked hurt at his words, and both Ginny and Hermione gasped.

“Ron!” Harry snapped.

“Ronald, that was not nice,” said Luna, her smile slipping.

Ron spun on his heel and left the room, Luna went after him.

“I’m sorry, Neville,” said Ginny. “He didn’t do very well on his O.W.L.s and Professor
Dumbledore took away his Prefect badge, he’s not taking it very well, sorry.” She hurried after Ron
and Luna.

“How many did he get?” Neville asked, going to the sink and washing his hands.

“Seven,” Harry muttered.

“D’you think it might cheer him up to find out that I only got six?”

“I hate to say it, because you shouldn’t be used to make someone else feel better about
themselves, but it might,” said Hermione, a frown on her face.

“Hermione’s right, Neville, you shouldn’t be made to feel bad just to make Ron feel better.”

Neville shrugged, “It’s okay, I’m used to it.”

“No, it’s not okay,” said Harry. “He’s been a prat all morning because of those stupid
results.”

“Harry,” said Hermione. “You know he just needs time to deal with it.”

“Yeah well, time is something we don’t have. I start my training tomorrow, and I can guarantee
that when I finish for the day, I’m not going to be in any mood to put up with his whining.”

“What training?” Neville asked.

“With Tonks and Moody,” said Harry. “They intend on whipping us all into shape.”

“Really? Cool!”

“But not at first. First they want to work with Harry, so you’ll have plenty of time to get the
greenhouse into shape.”

Neville’s eyes grew bright, “I’m going to start right now!” He rushed back outside and Harry was
left alone with Hermione again.

“I need to ask you to do something for me.”

“Anything.”

“Start getting yourself in shape, sit ups, push ups, crunches, running, whatever you can think
of. Tonks called it boot camp, and from her description, it’s gonna be a nightmare. They’re giving
me the extra time to get in shape because I don’t have as much muscle mass as I should, due to my
treatment at the Dursleys’ all these years. I’m giving you and only you this warning, so keep it
quiet.”

“Thank you, Harry. I’ll do as much as I can to get ready. I won’t let you down.”

“You never have,” he said, and quickly, before he could change his mind, he stepped in and
planted a kiss on her cheek, “you never have,” he breathed into her ear, then stepping around her,
almost afraid to see her reaction, he hurried from the kitchen.

***

Harry wandered aimlessly, his mind turning over the recent events. He wondered what was going
on. First, he had a really weird dream that had something to do with Hermione, and it wasn’t like
the one last year where Cho had turned into her. Then, when he saw her, he had found himself
comparing the two Hermiones, the one in his dream and the real one. Something was shifting, he
could sense something growing between them, and he could feel it every time he met her eyes, every
time he found himself watching her do the most mundane tasks. If asked at the beginning of last
year, he would have chalked it up to plain old fashioned hormones, he was a red-blooded male, and
Hermione was far from unattractive, a fact he had had slammed into his head at the Yule Ball in
4th year.

He blew it off though, still too hung up on that crybaby, Cho. But his reaction to Hermione, as
well as Cho’s and Ron’s had thrown everything out of kilter. Cho felt he was two-timing her with
Hermione, and then Ron started acting like he wasn’t happy that Hermione spent so much of her time
with Harry. Harry of course couldn’t figure what they were upset about, he knew that he and
Hermione were just friends, but when he played back various scenes from 5th year, he had
to admit that there was something there, hidden deep in his subconscious, something that had made
him count a Hermione covered in cat hair as one of his worst memories, something that had made him
stand barehanded in front of a giant, ready to do whatever it took to keep her safe, and that same
thing had caused him to freeze in the middle of a fight, something that he had never done before.
When it played back in his head, he was amazed that he had lived through it.

Whatever *it* was, he was conscious of it now, and he finally realized that *it* was
what made him watch her, made him want to keep her safe, made him admit to her and her alone, that
he wasn’t going to be an Auror, made him warn her about the training, and above all else, made him
tell her how much her loyalty meant to him. He had found himself wanting to say more, but his
emotions were in turmoil. It’s not easy for one to realize that they are in love with their best
friend.

Harry stopped dead in his tracks. The revelation of what he felt shocked him, and almost before
it had settled, an incredibly joyous feeling shot through him, followed by one of liquid ice. But
he knew nothing of love, so how would he know if and when he had fallen into it? He shook his head;
he had to get rid of such thoughts immediately! If Voldemort ever found out, Hermione would be in
even more danger than she was already. He knew from experience that Hermione would not allow him to
make such a decision for her, and he resolved not to tell her. He also decided that he would not
conceal his attraction, nor his affection, but he would dampen it, put it on low heat and bring it
to a boil slowly, that way he could keep a rein on his feelings, letting them out slowly. If he did
it right, he figured he would be able to show her he cared without actually coming out and saying
he was in love with her. That should at least take care of this coming year, and with his life the
way it was, all he could do was take it one year at a time and hope for the best. Of course, now he
understood why Dumbledore had done the things he had done. It wasn’t easy to love someone and keep
them safe at the same time.

Harry was unaware of when he had started walking again, but he immediately knew where he had
ended up. He pushed open the door to Buckbeak’s room, bowing to the big male hippogriff inside.
When the creature returned the bow, he made his way over to it and settled down, stroking the
animal’s neck while he contemplated his problem.

*“Problems, you mean.”*

“Yeah, problems.”

*“You know she would be furious if she finds out what you’re doing.”*

“I know, but I can’t take a chance on something happening to her. I can’t lose her.”

*“What about her, Harry? Are you going to stand in the way of her happiness?”*

“What do you mean?”

*“If you’re showing her that you care, then she’s going to think you care, then, knowing her,
she is going to wonder why you won’t ask her out or anything.”*

“I’m going to ask her out. I’m going to be her best friend, and I’m going to be the best best
friend I can. I’m going to help her with her elf hats, I’m going to set up late studying with her,
you name it and I’m going to do it.”

*“Are you going to tell her how you feel?”*

“No, not for a while, not until I know that I can keep her safe.”

*“Are you going to be her boyfriend?”*

“Not exactly, but I will be as much of one as I can.”

*“Are you going to kiss her, hold her, stroke her hair, take away her worries?”*

“I don’t really know. I want to, God knows, I want to.”

*“Then you have to tell her.”*

“I will! Just not yet.”

Buckbeak gave Harry a look that seemed to question his sanity for talking to himself, but he
ignored it, focusing instead upon his internal discussion with Hermione’s voice.

*”Fine, then we do this right, no half arsed attempts.”*

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

*“The first thing you must do is control Ron. He drives her nuts with all his arguing and bad
manners and such. If you truly love her, you must run interference; prevent Ron from pushing her
buttons, while at the same time making it seem perfectly natural.”*

“Got it, I was gonna be doin’ that anyway.”

*“Good. Next thing is Hogsmeade visits, you have to think of ways to get her to go with you
without asking for a romantic date, but turning it into one all the same.”*

“That may be a little tough, but I’ll figure it out.”

*“Next, you must, and I cannot stress this enough, you must show her that she is appreciated,
both her intelligence and her beauty.”*

“If you don’t mind my asking this, how in the Hell did I get so bloody smart when it comes to
women?”

*“Easy, you listened to Hermione.”*

“But—but we’ve never had this conversation before!”

*“You didn’t have to. You just picked up on what she truly meant when she berated Ron for his
insensitivity in 4th year, as well as all the times after. You’ve got a good memory,
Harry, you just fail to utilize it. I guess it helps that it’s Hermione though, so even though you
do not realize you’re memorizing what she says, you are. Or as Professor McGonagall said, ‘at least
you listen to Hermione Granger’, right?”*

Harry smiled to himself, “Yeah, I guess so.”

*“You have to tell her about the prophecy too.”*

Harry sat up straight in surprise. “Where did that come from?”

*“You have to; otherwise you’ll be betraying her loyalty.”*

“That is not fair! I—

*“I’m your conscience; I don’t have to be fair.”*

“That’s bullsh—

“Harry! Who are you talking to?” asked Ginny, from outside.

“Nobody!” Harry growled, irritated at the interruption. “I’m just—never mind, just, please leave
me alone.”

“Harry, I can listen if you need to talk, Hermione’s not the only one with a pair of ears, you
know.”

The doorknob started to turn, and Harry jumped up and flicked the lock. Ginny finished turning
the knob, and pushed against the door; Harry heard her grunt when it didn’t move.

“I asked you to leave me alone.”

“Really, Harry, you can talk to the rest of us too! I know what it’s like to lose someone, my
grandfather died when I was 7, and I know what it’s like to breakup with someone, remember I broke
up with Michael? You *can* talk to me.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

“Why wouldn’t you? I can help! I’ve helped you before!”

“That’s okay, Ginny, the last time I talked to you about something important, you gave me the
wrong information.”

The door thumped as a foot came into contact with it. “Harry Potter! You know good and well that
my information was not wrong!”

“Actually, you were as wrong as wrong could be. I was being possessed, but in a different way
than you had been. And, just because you were taken over by a memory, don’t try to think that gives
you insight into what I’ve gone through by being taken over by the man, no, monster, himself! So
just leave me alone, Ginny, if I want to talk to someone, it will be Hermione or Luna, they at
least understand *me*.”

“Well I never!” Ginny was furious, he could tell it in her voice, and strangely enough, that
thought didn’t bother him at all. “I’m not going to stand here arguing with a door! I don’t care if
I do get a warning from the Ministry about underage magic! *Alohamora*!”

“*Colloportus**!”* Harry said, and the door that had been coming open, slammed shut
with considerable force. “There, maybe that will get the message across! I don’t want you to bother
me, so go away!”

“*Alohamora**! Alohamora!*” Ginny screamed, then banged on the door, kicking and
pounding with feet and fists.

“You’ll never get in, Ginny,” said Harry. “You’re nowhere near my equal; I don’t care how
powerful your Bat Bogey Hex is.”

“You just wait, Harry Potter!”

“Ginny, I’ve been under constant threat of death for nigh on six years. Your pitiful threats are
laughable, now please go away.”

Ginny screamed, and Harry heard running footsteps, and then Ron’s voice, followed closely by
Hermione and Luna.

“What’s going on?” Ron roared.

Ginny was crying now, and she sobbed out the story, Harry remaining silent while he listened
closely from inside the room.

“Is this true, Harry? Did you say those things to Ginny?” Ron shouted.

Harry sighed and opened the door, “Look, Ron, I told her I didn’t want to be bothered, she kept
on, even trying to open the door after I locked it. I admit that I said some things I probably
shouldn’t have said, and for that I apologize, but I asked her to leave me alone and respect my
wish for privacy, and she wouldn’t do it.”

“I just wanted to talk to you about the things that bother you,” Ginny wailed, and Harry winced,
noticing for the first time that Ginny didn’t cry like Hermione, she cried like Cho.

“Listen closely, all of you. When I say, leave me alone, I mean it! If I want to talk, I will,
but not a moment sooner. And when I do choose to talk, I’ll let you know if it’s you that I wish to
talk to.”

“She was just trying to help, Harry, you had no call to treat her so badly!”

“Ron, I already apologized, and yet, she has yet to apologize for intruding and refusing to
leave me alone, but I guess I’m the only one in the wrong here, right?”

“Ron, take Ginny downstairs,” said Luna.

“But…”

“Do it, Ron!” ordered Hermione.

“C’mon, Ronald, I’ll go with you.”

“Yeah, leave *Hermione* to deal with Harry,” Ginny sneered over her shoulder as Ron and
Luna led her away.

Hermione watched them go, then turned to Harry, an exasperated sigh escaping her lips. “Harry,
what has gotten into you?”

“Like I said, she wouldn’t leave me alone.”

“That is no reason for you to jump down her throat like that, Harry, I’m surprised at you.”

“Hermione, please, I was in the middle of some really deep thinking, about something that my
life literally hinges on, and she disturbed me.” He held up a hand to stop her from speaking. “Now
I know that’s no excuse, but when I tell you what I was thinking about, you’ll understand.”

Hermione placed her hands on her shapely hips, something Harry found himself paying a bit too
much attention to at the moment. “Well, I’m waiting.”

Harry motioned her inside the room and closed the door after her. After she had bowed to
Buckbeak, she sat down next to him and ruffled his feathers, while Harry started to pace.

“This in not going to be easy for me, because what I’m about to tell you is known by only myself
and Dumbledore. It’s the prophecy, the one Voldemort was after, Dumbledore had the original in his
office and he played it for me. Bear with me,” Harry cleared his throat, and taking a deep breath,
recited the prophecy word for word.

Hermione’s eyes had grown wide and by the time he had finished speaking, her hand was over her
mouth and she had a horrified expression on her face.

“Oh, Harry…No wonder you were upset! I’d have been furious if I was thinking about something
like this and someone interrupted!”

Harry shrugged, “See, told you you’d understand, and the worst part is, I can’t tell them why I
got so upset.”

“Right, and don’t worry about Ginny and Ron, I’ll smooth things over.” Hermione stood up and put
her hand on his arm. “Harry, please remember that we’re all your friends here. Any one of them
would be willing to listen to you when you need to talk.”

“I know, I know,” Harry ran his hand through his hair. “It just that—don’t tell any of them
this, but—I don’t trust them as much as I trust you. I used to be able to tell Ron anything, but
after last year, he’s more apt to tell me what I want to hear, just to avoid an argument with me.
Ginny’s counsel is suspect, Neville, even though he means well doesn’t have the experience that we
have, and Luna…well, let’s just say that when it comes to dealing with deaths, Luna was a big help,
but about Voldemort, she’s clueless. She’s sincere, I’ll give her that, and so is Neville, but
they’re ultimately clueless. That leaves you.”

Hermione looked like she was about to start crying again, and he held up a hand.

“I know this is all a big shock to you, I went from not sharing anything to practically baring
my soul at the drop of a hat, and much as I want to, I can’t really explain why. I mean, I know
why, but I can’t explain it just yet.”

“I respect your privacy, Harry, and if you can’t explain it, then I won’t push you. However,
you’ve put a lot of faith in me, and it’s a little disconcerting to know that you trust me more
than you do Ron.”

“Hermione…”

“What is it?”

“I—nothing, I thought I might have found a way to explain, but the thought didn’t hang around
long enough to solidify.”

“Okay, Harry.” Hermione moved towards the door, and he made no move to stop her. “I guess I
should go deal with the fallout from Mt. Harry.”

“I guess so.” Harry turned back to Buckbeak and settled himself again as Hermione closed the
door behind her, leaving him alone with the hippogriff and his thoughts once again. Unwilling to
dwell on matters further, Harry took out his wand to keep it from poking him, leaned his head
against Buckbeak and contemplated training with Tonks and Moody.

***

When Harry went downstairs a couple of hours later, he hoped he’d be able to avoid both Ron and
Ginny, hurrying through the house to the kitchen, where he grabbed some pumpkin juice, and slapped
together a sandwich. He heard voices outside and looked out the window to see Neville, Hermione,
Luna, Ron and Ginny attempting to move a large boulder that was embedded in the yard. Puzzled, he
joined them and asked what was going on.

Neville raised a sleeve to his sweaty brow, “Well, Harry, since you told me I could have the
greenhouse, I figured these big rocks would be great for growing some plants that Hermione told me
about that only live on rocks, and can only survive by slowly digesting the rock they live on. I
reckoned you wouldn’t mind if I moved these huge stones out of your yard and used them for the
plants.”

Harry stood there finishing his lunch, eyeing the big rocks and his five sweaty friends. He
assessed the situation, noting that they were going about the endeavor all wrong.

“Looks like quite a job, can I help?”

Neville grinned, “Sure!”

Harry stepped up to one of the rocks and pushed his hand against it. It was around five feet
high, rough and misshapen, there was no way for it to roll, and they had been trying to push and
drag it, all five heaving and grunting. He looked at the hopeful Neville.

“Neville, if you don’t mind my saying so, there is an easier way to do this.”

“Really? How?”

Harry looked from Neville to a grinning Hermione. “I’m surprised you haven’t told them.”

“Told us what?”

“Nothing,” Hermione said quickly, shooting a pointed glance at Harry. “He just figures that
since I’m a Muggleborn that I should know the mechanics to make hard labor easier.”

Ron narrowed his eyes, “Is that it, Harry?”

Harry didn’t like the look Ron was giving him, but went along with Hermione’s lie. “Yeah, but I
forget sometimes that I’m the only one here that had to do actual work. Ron, run to the shed and
grab those long wooden poles. We’ll work in teams of two; a guy and girl to each pole.”

“Wait a minute! Why are you the one giving orders?”

Harry gritted his teeth and fought to keep his temper in check.

“Because, Ron, I’m the one that knows what I’m doing. Now would you please go fetch those
poles?”

Ron glowered, but left to do as Harry had asked.

Harry looked at the others to see if anyone else wanted to question his leadership, but no one
did.

“Hermione, you’re with me, Neville, you take Ginny, Luna, you can pair up with Ron. One team
will be on one side, one on the other, and the third will be in the middle. The two side teams will
slide their poles at angles, so that the tips will be pointing towards one another. The middle team
will slide their pole under the rock to keep it from settling back down when the two side teams
raise it. Got that?”

Everyone nodded that they understood, and in no time, Ron had returned with the poles. He handed
one to Neville, and Luna, then moved next to Hermione and held out a pole.

“Ready, partner?”

Hermione blushed, “Uhm…I’m not your partner, Ron, Luna is.”

Ron went as red as his hair, “What?” He seemed to spot the way everyone was standing; Neville
and Ginny on one side, Luna expectantly on the other, and Harry and Hermione in the middle with
him, and he glowered again.

“Should have known,” he muttered, shoving the pole he was holding, roughly into Harry’s hands,
and taking his place next to Luna.

“On three,” said Harry, standing behind Hermione and getting ready to push his bar under the
rock.

“One! Two! Three! Lift!”

The rock grudgingly released its hold on the ground, tearing quite a bit of the surrounding lawn
up when it finally toppled over. The six teens adjusted their positioning and repeated the process,
over and over again until they had reached the entrance to the greenhouse, nearly sixty yards from
their starting point.

“Tell me again, why we’re doing this,” grumbled Ron.

“Because we have nothing better to do, and it’s either this, or sitting in the kitchen and
discussing our homework for this summer,” said Harry, his mood just as irritable, but trying to
fight it.

“Harry,” said Hermione, “I was thinking about it, and once we get these rocks moved for Neville,
d’you think we can see if Lupin might be willing to do a little magic and install a pool in the
open area?”

“Great idea!” said Harry.

“Pool?” asked Ron, his confusion echoed on the faces of Neville, Ginny, and Luna.

“*Swimming pool*, Ron,” Hermione said, wearily.

“Oh, OH!” said Ron, catching on quickly.

“Well, the sooner we get these rocks moved, the sooner we can ask him,” said Luna, and the teens
turned back to their task with more vigor than they had started out with.

The late afternoon rolled around, and it was close to three o’clock when Harry and company
started on their last rock. The heat index had climbed from a warm ninety-five to around one
hundred degrees as the day had worn on, and both Harry and Neville had shed their sweat soaked
shirts, modesty giving way to comfort. Ron had refused to remove his, on the grounds that he had
enough freckles, and Weasleys didn’t tan, they just burned, a sentiment that Ginny readily agreed
with. Hermione on the other hand, had rolled up her sleeves, and tied her button up shirt in a knot
above her midriff, a style Luna had quickly copied.

“Okay, guys, on three.” Harry counted down again, and the six exhausted teenagers heaved and
grunted, forcing the last boulder to release its hold on the earth. When it toppled over, Ron gave
a half-hearted cheer, but shut up when he saw the glares directed at him.

“What?”

“Finish first, then you can cheer,” said Hermione, wiping her sweaty hands on her pants.

“I agree with Hermione,” said Neville, stretching his back.

Harry cracked his knuckles and rolled his shoulders, “C’mon, guys, argue later.”

Twenty minutes later, with a final concerted effort, they rolled the last rock into the
greenhouse. Harry turned to Ron with a grin.

“*Now* you can cheer!”

Ron frowned, “I would, but I don’t have the energy.”

“Aw, it wasn’t that bad,” Harry smiled.

Ron just glowered and everybody laughed. For a moment, it was like there had never been any
tension at all.

“What are you kids up to out here?” asked Lupin, coming from the house. “Looks like you all got
a little warm, heh?” He looked at the sweaty teenagers, glancing pointedly at the shirtless Harry
and Neville and grinning at what Hermione and Luna had done to their shirts.

“Uh, yeah,” said Harry, “Remus, I—we were wondering if maybe, you could put in a pool.”

Lupin looked at the suddenly smiling teens, “I think that’s an excellent idea,” He smiled, and
took out his wand. “Although I have never done this before, it can’t be too difficult.” He walked
away from the group, pointing his wand at the ground the entire time, what looked like a fine mist
spraying from the end. “Let me know when the length is satisfactory,” he said, continuing to
walk.

“That should be good, right, Hermione?” asked Harry, when Lupin was close to fifty feet
away.

“Looks good to me,” she said, and Lupin made a right-angled turn, marking out the width,
stopping when Harry shouted again, and then after another right-angled turn, came back to the
teens, making another right-angled turn to end up where he had started. When the lines were
connected, the mist began to glow, solidifying into a bright yellow line that marked out the
perimeter of the pool.

“*Excavaté*!” Lupin shouted, and all the dirt inside the rectangle shot into the air in one
block, leaving a hole approximately one foot deep, fifty feet long, and twenty feet wide. “How deep
would you like it?”

“At least seven feet on one end and five at the other,” said Hermione, and Harry nodded.

Lupin waved his wand again and more dirt shot out of the hole to join the pile in the air, when
the specified depth was reached, he transfigured the block into a large concrete tub, and dropped
it into the space the dirt had occupied a moment before. He transfigured a section of ground around
the pool into a patio and then created a walkway from the back door. He turned to the grinning
teens. “Will that be all?”

“Uh…Professor?” said Hermione.

“Yes?”

“You forgot the water.”

Lupin turned back to the pool and blushed. “So I did, terribly sorry.” He pointed his wand and a
huge fountain of water shot out, quickly filling the pool with cold, crystal clear water.

“I’ve charmed the water to keep it clean, so you needn’t worry about that, and since I don’t
believe any of you had the foresight to bring swimming wear, I’ll take care of that for you as
well.” Lupin pointed his wand at each of them in turn. Harry found himself in a pair of black
trunks, and thanked Lupin silently for not putting him in a maroon Speedo like the scarlet faced
Ron. Neville too was in trunks, but his were green. Ginny got a yellow one-piece, with extra
material to insure she was covered, while Luna ended up with a much skimpier silver two-piece.
Hermione’s was a dark blue, one-piece with a large diamond cutout in the front and back that nearly
made it a two-piece.

“Professor!” Ron wailed, trying desperately to cover himself with his hands.

Lupin laughed, “Sorry, Ron. The spell took whatever swim wear you were thinking of at that
moment.” He raised an eyebrow, “I guess you shouldn’t have been thinking of the Speedo.”

Harry was even more thankful that he had been picturing trunks, when it suddenly dawned on him
that the girls hadn’t chimed in yet. He looked at Luna, and she was smirking, Ginny was making sure
her knots were tight, and Hermione was biting her lip, a small frown on her face.

“Can you please change mine to trunks like Harry and Neville?” pleaded Ron.

“I think you look good, Ronald,” said Luna, her eyes raking the redhead from head to toe. “About
what I imagined you’d look like in something like that.”

Ron’s eyes went wide and he turned to the still grinning Lupin.

“Please, Professor!”

“Sorry, Ron, I’ve over taxed myself at this point, the pool and the patio and then the clothes,
I think I need to go lie down,” he headed back into the house without another word, but Harry heard
him break into loud guffaws when the door shut behind him.

A huge splash let Harry know that someone had jumped in and he turned in time to see Ron coming
up, and Luna, Ginny, and Neville getting in.

“This water is *cold*!” said Neville, sliding in up to his waist.

“That’s why I jumped in,” grinned Ron, shaking his wet hair out of his eyes. He started to say
more, but Ginny jumped at him, trying to push his head below the water, an activity that Neville
and Luna joined.

Harry looked at Hermione; she was still frowning. When she noticed him looking at her, she
blushed and dove into the pool headfirst. Harry looked at his friends in the cold water and
wondered why he was still standing in the hot sun and not in there with them. Without another
thought, he leaped into the air and did a cannonball into the pool.

***

The six teenagers spent the rest of the afternoon in the pool, the cold water just what they
needed after getting all hot and sweaty. After three hours in the water, Harry decided he had had
enough. He climbed out, pulling at his trunks to keep the material from outlining body parts while
his back was to his friends, an action that was not lost on Ron apparently.

“Oy, Harry, what’s wrong, mate?”

“Nothing,” said Harry, making sure the wet material was no longer clinging to him. “I’m just
turning into a prune.” He held up his hands, showing the wrinkled skin of his fingers.

“That makes two of us,” Hermione said, climbing out too. “I think I’ve had enough fun for one
day.” She grabbed her wet hair and twisted the thick mass, wringing the water from it and flinging
it over her shoulder.

“Aw, don’t be a spoilsport! C’mon back in, guys,” said Ron.

“I think they have the right idea, Ron,” said Ginny, making her way to the side.

“I’ll stay with you, Ronald,” said Luna, sliding over closer and resting her arms on the side
next to Ron.

“Thanks, Luna,” Ron shot Harry and Hermione a sharp look, but they ignored him, Ginny trailing
behind. They found towels hanging on a rack near the door, and Harry figured Lupin had sneaked them
out while they had been busy playing and splashing around, and held one open for Hermione to wrap
herself in, taking another for himself.

“Hold up, Ginny!” said Neville, climbing out of the pool and hurrying over. He took a towel from
the rack and emulating Harry, opened it for Ginny to wrap around herself. He smirked at the gaping
Ron.

“What? Girls like this kind of stuff, right?” An uncertain look crossed his face and he looked
at Hermione and Ginny for confirmation.

“Absolutely, Neville,” said Hermione, and she smiled at Harry. “You get more flies with honey
than you do vinegar.”

Harry grinned, opened the door and without waiting for Neville and Ginny, they went inside.

“I’m going to go change,” said Hermione, as they passed through the kitchen.

“Yeah, me too, meet me in the study when you finish, I want to go over that D.A. plan McGonagall
wants.”

“Just let those suits dry and they’ll change back to the way they were,” Lupin called from the
lounge, as they made their way upstairs.

“Thanks, Professor!” Harry shouted back.

Hermione went into her room and Harry was about to enter his when a voice stopped him.

“Harry!”

Harry spun around, his hand reaching for his wand, before remembering that it was safely in
Buckbeak’s room.

“Geeze, Tonks! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

Tonks, her hair standing approximately two feet straight up from her head, and a bright, shiny,
silver, grinned, “Sorry, Harry. I just got word from Kingsley, I’m needed on assignment, so I can’t
be your trainer.”

“Sorry to hear that, I guess it’ll just be me and Moody then.”

“Sorry again, mate, but Moody’s needed too,” she grimaced. “I hate to tell you this, but
Kingsley will be your instructor.”

Harry frowned, “What’s so bad about Kingsley?”

“Take it from me, Harry; you do *not* want him for your trainer. But, since we can’t do
anything about that now, I’m going to help you all I can, before he gets here.”

“How?”

“Well, Harry, remember I told you about Aurors using a spell to increase speed and strength?
Well, it only lasts an hour or so, and drains a Wizard’s energy at a very fast rate, so some
friends, and me developed an alternative version a few years ago. It won’t make you stronger
immediately, but if you keep pushing yourself passed your limits, your growth in strength and
speed, agility, and endurance will increase by a factor of one.”

“Say that again, and this time in English.”

“Okay, if you can run half a mile without stopping right now, then after the spell, you’ll still
only be able to do the half mile, *but* if you push yourself one step passed that half mile
limit, then you’ll be able to do the rest of the mile without stopping. Did that make sense?”

“Sort of,” Harry mused, “So if I’m able to do ten chin-ups right now, and after the spell, I
push myself to eleven chin-ups, then I’ll be able to do another ten without stopping?”

“Close enough. The good thing is, the results are permanent, but the spell itself wears off
after a month or so. We never were able to pin point exactly how or when it goes away, it’s kind of
dependant on the Witch or Wizard it’s cast on.”

“Cool! I didn’t know you could just create spells!”

Tonks face grew stern, “Well, you can, but you’re not supposed to. The Ministry frowns heavily
on that sort of thing and all new spells are or should be registered, complete with hand movements,
effects and side effects. Harry, this is more than slightly illegal in more ways than just one,
Aurors aren’t supposed to use anything but their natural abilities to help themselves through
training, but since you are a special case in every sense of the word, I don’t think it will hurt.”
She smiled, “Besides, anything that makes you stronger than You-Know-Who is a good thing,
right?”

“Yeah,” said Harry, his thoughts automatically jumping to the prophecy. If using the spell would
help him in the long run, then he was more than willing to suffer the consequences.

“Ready? This will only take a second. You won’t feel any different until you actually exert
yourself.”

“Great, where were you when we were straining our asses off moving those big honking rocks?” he
asked, slightly irritated.

Tonks raised a chrome eyebrow, “What rocks?”

“Out back,” Harry gestured with his thumb, “me and the gang moved them into the greenhouse so
Neville can grow some plants on them.”

“Oh, good idea,” Tonks raised her wand. “Now hold still, Harry, I don’t have much time.” She
tapped him on the head, and Harry felt warmth spread throughout his body. It was an interesting
sensation to say the least, and it left every muscle in his body tingling. “Now, once you start
training, you’ll see a marked change, not so much in mass, that comes later, after lots of training
and eating right,” she smiled and gave him an appraising glance, reminding him he was only wearing
wet swimming trunks. “Not that you’re that bad, but your strength and muscle definition will
definitely take a turn for the better. You won’t be Ahhnuld,” she morphed her face and did a
perfect Schwarzenegger impersonation, “so lose that thought right now.”

Harry, who had indeed been picturing himself looking like the Terminator, blushed furiously.

“Okay, so I won’t be huge, but eventually, I will be buff, right?”

Tonks returned to normal, or as normal as she ever got, and nodded, her face turning slightly
red.

“You’re almost there now, mate, you just have to work at it a little more. Now, if you’ll excuse
me, I’m outta here!”

“Tonks, wait!”

“What?”

“How bad will it be with Shacklebolt?”

“Terrible. He has no mercy or compassion, when he trains you, you either give it one hundred
percent or he makes your life a living hell.”

“Oh,” said Harry, in a small voice.

“Look, Harry, I understand what you’re feeling, because I felt the same thing. The best thing
you can do is go to your room or back outside, and exercise, get a jump on the training by building
your strength now, before he starts in on you.”

“Thanks, Tonks, I really appreciate everything.”

“No problem, Harry, now I really have to go!” Tonks disappeared with the customary *POP* of
Apparation.

It dawned on Harry a moment later, that Tonks had not only complimented him, she had been
checking him out! He looked down at his chest and abdomen. Now that she mentioned it, he could see
some definition in his pectorals, but it was his abdomen that really shocked him. He was so used to
being considered skinny; that he had failed to notice that at some point his stomach had toned up,
developing the ridges that led to the washboard look. Amazed that he had missed such a major
transformation in himself, he immediately went to talk to Hermione.

Harry walked into Hermione’s room without knocking or thinking, so muddled were his
thoughts.

“HARRY!” she shrieked, and he realized that she wasn’t dressed, wearing only a lacey pink bra
and matching tanga. She snatched up her towel and held it in front of her, “Get out of here!”

Harry stood there staring, before his dazed brain caught what she was saying. When he did, he
blushed nine shades of red and fled the room, rushing back to his room and hoping he wouldn’t run
into anybody.

He quickly pulled on some fresh clothing, sat on his bed, and tried to vanquish the image he had
just seen from his head, but to no avail. His retinas were imprinted, and when he closed his eyes,
he found himself analyzing body parts that he shouldn’t be thinking about at all. His blush
increased, until he felt like his face was on fire.

A knock at his door shook him from his reverie.

“Harry? Can I come in?”

Harry’s embarrassment climbed a notch, here he was the one that did the seeing and she was the
one that sounded apologetic. He got up and opened the door for her. She walked in, wearing a baggy
t-shirt and loose fitting, jean shorts.

“I’m sorry, I should have knocked,” Harry muttered, not looking at her.

“It was an accident, Harry; I’m not mad,” she blushed, “just a little embarrassed.”

“You shouldn’t be,” the words slipped out, before Harry even knew they were there. He almost
amputated the tip of his tongue, trying to shut his mouth, but it was too late.

“What?” Hermione’s eyes were wide.

With the cat out of the bag, Harry figured he might as well be honest.

“Hermione, you’ve nothing to be embarrassed about. You look great, and although I never would
have pictured you in something like that—

“What would you have pictured me in?” her voice had gotten slightly husky, and Harry gulped. He
sensed that things were about to spiral out of control, he had to change the subject. The only
question, was how?

*“Make her mad.”*

“I dunno, something like Aunt Petunia wears—

“WHAT? HARRY POTTER! I CAN’T BELIEVE THAT YOU WOULD SAY SUCH A THING!” Hermione’s face had
dropped into her McGonagall look, lips pressed together, brows furrowed, and shooting a glare that
would likely have killed a lesser man. But Harry, was made of stouter stuff.

“Now, now, Hermione, you didn’t let me finish!” He held up his hands to show he meant no harm.
“I was about to say that something like Aunt Petunia wears is all I know regarding women’s
undergarments.”

“Oh,” Hermione looked sheepish. “Sorry.”

“Geeze, don’t be so quick to bite my head off.” He chuckled, happy that his diversion had
worked.

“You mean you’ve never seen anything other than…What does she wear?”

“Oh, you know those big, pantaloon type things that reach from the knee to the arm pits.”

“Oh my,” Hermione covered a giggle.

“Tell me about it,” Harry feigned horror. “I’d hate to be doing the laundry and come across
something like what you had on.” Harry realized his mistake almost as soon as the words left his
mouth. Hermione’s brown eyes darkened, and he tried to pull both his big feet from his mouth.
“Wait! I didn’t mean it like that! I meant, that if I stumbled across something that sexy, it would
make me wonder what my aunt was doing with it, and that would lead to more questions, and then
visual images that I’d rather not, but already do, thanks to you, have stuck in my head.”

“You think it’s sexy?”

Harry’s mind went on full red alert. He consciously told his mouth not to say a word while he
tried his best to extricate himself from such a volatile situation.

“Uhm…er…that is to say, uhm…” The hole he was digging himself into was getting ever deeper. “The
underwear itself is sexy, and while it looks good on you, I do *not* want to think about my
aunt dressed like that. Which brings to mind another question, why are *you* wearing something
like that? Isn’t that bit a little too girly for you?”

Hermione wrapped her arms around herself, “Contrary to popular belief, I am a girl, and just
like every other girl in the world, I like to feel sexy, I like to dress up and do my hair and put
on makeup, all that. I don’t get many occasions to do so, but for a worthwhile cause, I like doing
it.”

“I know you’re a girl, Hermione, and a damned pretty one at that.”

“Thank you, Harry, but sometimes I wonder.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“What, wonder?”

“No,” Harry shook his head, “have to wonder.”

“That’s nice of you to say, Harry, but given my record or complete lack thereof, I can’t help
it.”

“Hermione…”

She raised her hand, “No, it’s alright, I’m used to it, or at least I should be. Neither you nor
Ron would have asked me to the Yule Ball except as a last resort, and I know that’s because we’ve
been friends for so long, that neither of you saw me as anything but ‘one of the guys,’ and that’s
not completely your fault, because I tried not to act very girly when around you, and since I was
around you so much…” she let the thought trail off, letting Harry draw his own conclusions.

“I was a fool. I was so hung up on Cho, and then I never entertained the idea of asking you,
because it never crossed my mind that you might like to go with me.” Harry ran his hand through his
hair, causing it to stand up even more than usual. “I’m sorry. Can you ever forgive me?”

Hermione smiled, “Of course I can, because believe it or not, I had a great time with Viktor,”
her smiled vanished to be replaced with a grimace, “until Ron started acting like an ass.”

“I don’t want to talk about Ron right now, there’s something that I’ve been doing and I only
realized it right after I got back to the Dursley’s.”

Hermione’s expression immediately softened, “What is it, Harry?”

“Taking those I care about for granted.”

Hermione narrowed her eyes, “How did you come to this realization?”

“This may sound corny, but it came about because of a song.”

“A song?”

He nodded, “Yeah, a day or so after I got back, I had had enough being cooped up in the house
and just like last summer, I wandered around the neighborhood. I usually found myself in the park
and this was no exception. I took a seat on a swing and just sat there mulling over the things that
happened, and a car pulled into the parking lot to pick up some kids. There was this song playing
on the radio, and I only caught part of it, but what I did catch, hit me like a ton of bricks, I
sat there and cried, I cried more than I thought possible,” his voice grew thick, “It really struck
a chord within me, and it’s why I’ve been opening up to you so much,” he felt his face get hot,
“and if you don’t mind, I’d like to share it with you.”

Hermione just nodded.

“I used my wand to record what little I heard, let me go get it,” said Harry.

“I’ll be right here.”

Harry smiled, then rushed off to Buckbeak’s room to retrieve his wand. When he came back,
Hermione had taken a seat on his bed and was flipping through his photo album. She was staring at a
photo of himself grinning at something she had said, a small smile playing about her lips as she
remembered that moment.

“Okay, I’m back.”

She put the book away and turned to face him, “I’m all ears.”

“And hair, but that’s beside the point,” Harry grinned.

Hermione stuck her tongue out at him. “Smart aleck,” she said. “Get on with it.”

Harry waved his wand, mumbling the spell quietly and a man’s deep voice filled the room. The
tune was slow and the words heartfelt, tugging at Harry’s heart again, and he felt himself tear up.
He sat down on the bed beside Hermione while the singer spoke to them.

*“I’ve lost loved ones in my life,*

*who* *never knew how much I loved them.*

*Now, I live with the regret that my true feelings for them,*

*never were revealed.*

*So I made a promise to myself*

*to* *say each day how much she means to me.*

*And* *avoid that circumstance*

*where* *there’s no second chance, to tell her how I feel.*

*Cause if tomorrow never comes,*

*will* *she know how much I loved her?*

*Did I try in every way, to show her every day,*

*That she’s my only one?*

*And if my time on Earth were through,*

*And* *she must face this world without me,*

*is the love I gave her in the past,*

*gonna be enough to last,*

*if tomorrow never comes?*

*So tell that someone that you love,*

*just* *what you’re thinking of,*

*If tomorrow never comes.”*

The singer’s voice faded, and Harry was overwhelmed by the grief that he had fought so hard to
contain for so long. He buried his face in his hands and cried like someone that had suffered far
more loss than any one person deserved. He felt two arms surround him and he was pulled into a
shoulder, a soft voice making soothing sounds over his sobs.

“Shh, Harry, it’s alright.”

“I—I never told h—him h—how mu—much I—I cared,” Harry said, his voice catching and breaking.
Hermione just held him tighter, pulling his head down to rest on her breast. He wanted to be
embarrassed, sobbing like a child, but his feelings of loss and potential loss out weighed shame,
and he just held her tight, his face buried in her chest.

“Oh, Harry,” Hermione’s voice was choked up too, and she laid her head on top of his, crying as
well.

After a while, Harry’s sobs died down, and the tears stopped flowing. He pulled back and looked
at Hermione. He reached up and wiped the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs.

“That song made me realize that I have been taking my friends, you especially, for granted. I’ve
never once told you how much I appreciate your help, and how much you mean to me.” Harry felt his
throat closing up again, so he hurriedly said what was on his mind. “I lo—love you—all of you so
much, and I want to make sure you all know that just in case, ‘tomorrow never comes,’ you
know?”

“I understand, Harry.” Hermione said, regaining her composure. “I’ve been thinking a lot about
the future too, and there is no guarantee that we’ll live to graduate. That’s a lot for kids our
age to deal with, and I think that you and I are the only ones to fully realize this; I know Ron
doesn’t.”

“Yeah, he does seem to be focused on less important matters, doesn’t he,” Harry agreed, wiping
his eyes. “Sometimes I think that if it weren’t for Quidditch, he’d have no reason to live.”

Hermione laughed, “I know. He’s a great guy, but not that deep.”

Harry cleaned his glasses, “He has his moments.”

“But they’re few and far between,” she muttered.

“That’s not nice, Hermione,” Harry admonished.

Hermione made a face, “As much as he torments and ridicules me for my study habits and library
time, he deserves it.”

“Be that as it may, he is our friend.”

“Then why does he treat me like he does? I swear, Harry, when we argue, he pulls no punches, he
acts like I’m his worst enemy or something.”

“I know,” said Harry. “You see the way he looked at me today? If looks could kill, I’d be a
smoking spot outside on the lawn right now.”

“I don’t get it, Harry, why was he acting that way?”

Harry blushed; this part was going to be tricky. “I don’t think he likes you and me hanging out
as much as we do.”

Hermione looked highly affronted at this news. “Well, that’s just tough! He’ll have to get over
it!”

“I think he’s worried that you and I are trying to push him away, what with D.A. and Grawp and
all.”

“Harry, we can’t help that.”

“I know that, but if we look at it from his perspective, it might look like we’re leaving him
behind or something.”

Hermione looked at him, her eyes wide and brows raised, “When did you start analyzing him so
much?”

Harry shrugged, “I’ve been analyzing everybody lately, it’s highly annoying.”

“I bet,” Hermione laughed, “you’ve never liked introspection, and here you’ve been doing a ton
of it.”

“I know, it’s why I’ve been so open with you, why I’ve tried not to lose my temper with Ron, why
I gave Neville the greenhouse, why I made sure to invite Luna today, and why I blew up at Ginny.
I’m getting mightily sick of the whole bit,” Harry said, disgusted.

“All this sharing must be just killing you,” Hermione smirked.

“You have no idea.”

“Want to discuss the D.A. stuff?”

“Yeah, this introspection is depressing me.” Harry snapped his fingers as he suddenly remembered
something, “Oh, damn, I still haven’t replied to McGonagall!”

Hermione smiled, “Already taken care of, Harry.”

“Wha—you?”

“Of course, there was no need to trouble you with it, when you obviously needed time to
yourself, so I wrote her and informed her that we were ecstatic about teaching again and honored
that we would be treated as actual teachers, with wages and everything. I also took the liberty of
filling out your class schedule request form.”

“You what?” Harry got a sinking feeling deep in the pit of his stomach. “Hermione, please tell
me that you didn’t put me in Potions.”

“Sorry,” she squeaked.

Harry contemplated getting angry, but decided it was no use. She hadn’t meant any harm. He blew
out his breath in a violent sigh.

“It’s alright. I suppose I can live through another two years of Potions.”

“Take heart, Harry, with our teacher status Professor Snape may not be as harsh towards us.”

Harry looked at her like she had grown a second head, “Yeah right, I’ll bet you he’s even worse,
in fact, I’m so sure that he will be, that I’ll make you a deal. If he’s *not* as harsh or
harsher towards us on the first day of Potions, or even the first time he sees us, I will
wholeheartedly embrace S.P.E.W. and do whatever you want in relation to that.”

Hermione’s eyes went wide, “That’s quite a bet!”

“I’m confident.”

“Well, in that case, if you win, I’ll…Oh, I don’t know what I’ll do for payment!”

Harry grinned, “How about if I win, you agree to be my date for anything and everything
requiring one, that way we both won’t have to worry about a repeat of 4th year, and you
have to play at least one prank per week on the person of my choice.”

“Harry!” Hermione’s face went red.

“What? I figure that’s equal to me devoting myself to S.P.E.W..”

Hermione blushed, “I-I guess that’s acceptable, but you do know this kinda kills me having any
chance at a boyfriend, right?

“I know, and sorry, but it also keeps me from having a girlfriend too, so you’re not alone.”

“Harry, this is going to provide more fodder for the rumor mill.”

“I know, but as long as we’re not actually snogging, then they really can’t say much.”

“I suppose, and it is only a minor inconvenience for me because it’s not like guys are beating
down my door for dates.”

“And it’ll be fun!” Harry chuckled, pretending not to notice how her voice had gotten just a
trifle bitter. “No one will ever suspect you of pulling a prank, it’ll be great!”

“That’s only *if* you win.” She corrected.

“Yeah, yeah, so are we on?”

“Yeah, we’re on,” Hermione stuck out her hand and they shook on it. “And nobody is to know about
this.”

“I wouldn’t dream of sharing this with anybody.” He leaned closer, his eyes boring into
hers.

“Harry.” Hermione’s voice was husky, and Harry had the distinct impression that his plan for
this year was going to go up in smoke if he kissed her.

“What?” he asked. He was breathless with anticipation.

“Wake up!”

Harry awoke to Hermione’s voice calling to him as if from a great distance. He blinked his eyes
sleepily and struggled to make out her face through vision that was again blurry.

“Here you are.”

He felt something slide along his face and suddenly she came into focus. She was smiling, Harry
smiled back, but then found himself gazing past her and then he began to scream at the top of his
lungs.

TBC.

*Ain’t* *that a hell of a cliffhanger?*