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Lifelines by ponderingprefect
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Lifelines

ponderingprefect

Chapter 2: A Little Bit of Memories

Hermione arrived at the train station early. She had purposely done so as not to miss the Hogwarts Express as it departed. She watched silently while she waited for Harry. Countless children had already gone through the wall to Platform 9 and ¾. Her total attention was on them as she remembered how nervous she felt when she had done so. She was so engulfed that she hadn't noticed Harry creeping up behind her.

"'Mione---," he whispered, touching the small of her back.

She let out at startled cry and spun around quickly.

"Harry!" she screamed, hitting him hard on the shoulder. "Don't you dare sneak up on me like that again!"

She examined his face, which was littered with sparse cuts and bruises. She frowned but still moved towards him as he opened his arms wide to give her a giant hug.

"Don't be so obvious when you're watching those kids go through the platform, you might bring them unwanted Muggle attention," he told her while still hugging her.

"I'd never do such a thing," Hermione insisted with a playful tone in her voice. "How are you, Harry?"

"Erm, well besides being a little scratched up, I'm wonderful," he said and then let her go. "How are you, 'Mione?"

"Great," she replied with a nod.

She turned around again to face the platforms 9 and 10 again. Both she and Harry noticed a rather frightened looking little girl, with her even more bewildered parents, staring between the two platforms. From the looks of the them in their perfectly normal clothes, they were Muggles. They were clueless as to how to get to Platform 9 and ¾.

"We should go help them," said Hermione, glancing at her watch. "It's 10:50 and the train leaves in exactly ten minutes."

Harry nodded and accompanied Hermione as she walked up to the family. They looked shocked, their eyes widening as the two of them approached. Harry waved at the couple while Hermione kneeled by the little girl, giving her a kind smile.

"Hi there, I'm Harry and this is Hermione, " he said, gesturing to her, and then shaking the mother and father's hands. "See you're having a bit of trouble."

"Erm, yes, we're a bit new to this," the mother said in a halting voice.

Hermione stood up and approached the parents, shaking hands with them as well. The little girl stood by her side, looking considerably more at ease. The parents seemed grateful that their daughter looked more comfortable and then turned to Harry and Hermione for more guidance.

"So erm---," the father began, "what should we do?"

"Well," Harry began, gesturing toward the barrier between platforms 9 and 10, "you just sort of go through it, and it's best if you run."
Harry was still pointing at the pillar before them. The parents' eyes turned round with even more shock. Harry chuckled, wondering how better to explain the process. He glanced at Hermione who was now holding the little girl's hand.

"Why don't we go first?" Hermione suggested, pointing to herself and the eleven-year-old. "Ready?"

The little girl nodded apprehensively. She squeezed Hermione's hand tightly and together they ran through the barrier to Platform 9 and ¾. The parents nearly screamed in horror until Harry calmed them down. After they caught their breath, Harry pointed towards the pillar.

"Want to give it a try?" he asked.

They nodded and then closed their eyes as they ran through, followed closely by Harry. On the other side, was a bustling platform filled with children of all ages scrambling to get onto the Hogwarts Express. The mother and father ran to embrace their daughter, each of them kissing her on the cheek.

"Oh Anna," the mother was now crying, "your father and I are so proud of you!"

The father nodded stiffly as if determined not to cry.

"Well," Anna began, a bright smile now on her little round face, "bye Mummy, bye Daddy and thank you Miss Hermione, Mr. Harry."

The little blonde Anna waved happily to her mother and father as she boarded the train. And then exactly at 11 am, the train sped off.

Harry and Hermione were left with little Anna's parents. Her father was patting his wife on the shoulder lovingly until her tears abided. When the tears had seemed to stop flowing, she turned to Harry and Hermione thankfully.

"Oh, thank you two so much," she said, dabbing what was left of her tears with a handkerchief. "Have you two a child going to Hogwarts?"

Hermione felt her face go red.

"Oh dear, no---I we're not that old yet," she started in embarrassment. "At least I hope we don't look that old.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Anna's mother apologized.

"Oh, well, then," her father began, "how long have you two been married?"

Both Harry and Hermione were red this time.

"Married?" they cried at the same time.

"Oh dear lord, we're NOT married," Harry added emphatically.

"Right, erm, right," Hermione said in agreement. "Harry and I are just friends, we went to Hogwarts together."

Revelation had dawned on Anna's parents and they now were shaking their heads in embarrassment.

"Oh dear, I'm so sorry, I just thought, well, you two looked like you were a

couple," Anna's mother said and then smiled at the two of them again. "Well, thank you so much again."

At that Anna's parents exited the barrier and were on their way in the non-magical world. Harry smiled at Hermione and held out his arm in a gentlemanly manner. She smiled back and took it as they started off.

"I can't believe she asked if we had a child!" Hermione said, the look on her face still one of disbelief. "I mean I don't look that old do I?"

"No, no, of course not," Harry said, reassuringly. "And besides, you're not even married yet. Not even close to it."

Hermione squeezed his arm in such a way that he thought it might stop his circulation. He looked down at her and was greeted by an icy glare.

"Harry, say that again?" she said firmly.

"'Mione, you know I'm joking," Harry said, patting her on the hand. "Erm, now can you...erm... please stop cutting off my circulation?"

"All right," she said, easing off.

They had already left the station and were now walking along the crowded sidewalk. The sky was cloudy, but smiles were still on their faces. Harry's face slowly turned sly and he smiled at Hermione again.

"So, we know you're not married, but are you seeing anyone?" Harry asked with a boyish grin on his face. "Still seeing Seamus?"

"Oh lord!" Hermione moaned. "Ever since someone came up with those Apparating messages, he hasn't stopped. It's driving me completely mad. I ignore the lot of them. You'd think he'd get the picture."

"That's effective," Harry chuckled.

"How about you?" Hermione asked, feeling her throat tighten. "A new woman in your life?"

"Oh, you know, dates here and there," he said nonchalantly, as if it were nothing but Hermione knew that several women would jump at the chance to be with Harry. She had the suspicion that their intentions were not very pure in the least.

"Right, Mr. Bonafide Sex God," she muttered.

"'Sex God'?" he repeated with a disdainful expression on his face.

"You know what I mean, there's plenty of women who throw themselves at you," she said in a huff.

"'Mione, what in the world are you talking about?" Harry said, bewildered.

"It's true, you know, I mean woman they...really fancy a sha--," she cleared her throat and then continued in an embittered voice, "Sha--really fancy a shag with you. You're the famous Harry Potter after all."

"Well I don't oblige them!" Harry said, starting to laugh.

"You don't?" Hermione questioned, her voice firm.

"What is this all about?" Harry asked, upset that she actually thought he'd do something like that so freely. "I bet you shag way more than me anyway, you're always talking about some new man, too, you know."

Hermione frowned, turning pink with indignation

"I do not. I don't shag, I date around, not shag," she stated with her voice still firm and then it softened. "Besides, you know how I feel about sex Harry, I'm very---particular. Really, you, of all people should know. You were my first."

Harry became silent and held her arm tighter to him. He looked at her and gave her a warm smile.

"I remember, 'Mione," he said, his voice contemplative. "And to this day, I still can't think of why you let me be that for you."

Hermione stopped and tugged him on the arm, squeezing his hand in hers.

"Oh don't be silly," Hermione said in a light tone. "I let you because I was in love with you."

Harry thought for a moment with a smile fixed on his face.

"Hmmm, fair enough," he said, as though the matter were settled.

Hermione laughed aloud and they continued to walk on. Soon they stopped in front of a tiny cafe where they sat at a table underneath its eaves. The two of them ordered tea and cookies.

"Oh yes, I almost forgot!" Hermione said, her voice starting in excitement. "Have you gotten a letter from Ginny or perhaps from..."

"From Malfoy?" said Harry, finishing her sentence. "It's wild, really, I mean who would have thought: he and Ginny?"

Hermione's eyes twinkled with excitement and she slapped the table with her left hand causing it to shake.

"I know!" Hermione gasped. "And they want a Muggle style wedding too, can you believe it?"

"Hardly, but you know Malfoy's asked me to be his best man." said Harry, pausing to take a sip of the tea the waitress had brought them. "It's funny, but I know he needs the help and he's become a better guy, so I'm happy to oblige."

Hermione nodded and took a sip of her own tea and a bite of her cookie.

"You know, Ginny's asked me to be the maid of honor," Hermione added.

"Oh well that doesn't surprise me at all," said Harry. "You're very close to the Weasleys after all."

Hermione nodded in agreement.

"And you'll get to see Ron again," added Harry as though it were an afterthought.

"We'll get to see Ron again," Hermione elaborated with a glint of utter seriousness in her eyes. "Since you're in the wedding too, we'll both surely see Ron again instead of just having to read his letters all the time."

Harry nodded, though an unsettling feeling hovered over him. It was true that he and Ron seemed to be on fine speaking terms, but with work and one thing or another he had never really been able to see him face to face. He began to wonder if Ron was avoiding him on purpose and thought, in truth, maybe he had the right to be.

"You think he wants to see me?" Harry asked with uncertainty.

"Well, I'm sure he does," insisted Hermione.

"Hmm, yeah, maybe," said Harry, "maybe so he can punch my face in like I know he's wanted to for the past few years."

"Harry, that was--that was---," Hermione began hesitantly, trying to think of the best thing to say.

"I mean we're all fine when we write to each other, but I suspect that he's really pissed off because I stole you from him," Harry stated, hoping that Hermione would say nothing more of it.

"Harry, that was five years ago!"

"A little over a year ago, actually, we broke up only a little over a year ago remember?" Harry added, flinching as though a Bludger had flown right past his eye.

Hermione pursed her lips in frustration and then took another sip of tea.

"I know that, but you know what I mean," Hermione said. "And besides, I wasn't his when I fell in love with you."

"But you were his when I fell in love with you," Harry said, looking her straight in the eye.

Hermione furrowed her brow and then dipped one of her cookies in her tea. She began to think on more of what he had just said. She knew Harry's words were true, but she hadn't known that when she and Ron were still together that Harry had secretly fallen in love with her. She hadn't the slightest inkling of it because then, her eyes were only for Ron. She hadn't even the slightest idea that Ron, himself, could tell that Harry, had fallen for her. Though he knew it, he never let it affect their friendship. They were still the three best of friends.

And then right before Hermione's 18th birthday, she had made a crucial decision. After being with Ron for so long, for almost four years, she decided she had wanted to end their romance. She remembered as clearly as yesterday what Ron had said to her that day.

"Herm, why? Four years, Herm---I---I," Ron stammered, leaving Hermione staring at him in shock because though he had never been one for overt displays of emotion, he was most certainly on the verge of tears for the first time in his life. "Whatever, I've done wrong, I'll fix it, I swear, Herm, Hermione I'll fix it."

"You can't fix it!" she had cried out, tears had been streaming down her face. "It's me, you can't fix me. I'm not broken."

Her voice grew to a whisper, though she was still sobbing uncontrollably. Ron sat next to her, on the bench in Hogsmeade where they always went to sneak a kiss when they knew no one was watching. He looked on at her, his brown eyes, wide, expectant, and rimming with tears.

"What are you talking about?" Ron said and then took a slight pause. "Is it Harry? Is this because of Harry?"

Hermione had sighed incredulously. She didn't think that Harry had anything to do with this, their relationship. In fact, at the time she was undoubtedly positive that he had absolutely nothing to do with their relationship as boyfriend and girlfriend.

"Why would Harry even figure into this at all?" she raised her voice. "This is about me, Ron!"

"What about you?" his voice edged with anger now.

"I don't know anything except you anymore," she said. "I don't even know myself. I used to be 'Brilliant Hermione' but now, it's like they've made an addendum to the title, 'Brilliant Hermione, Ron Weasley's girlfriend. These days I'm known more for that, than even my wits."

"But you are my girlfriend, you're a part of me," Ron said.

"Is that all though?" she said, causing Ron to flinch from the heartache. "Just a part of you?"

"You don't want to be anymore?" Ron accused.

"Ron, that part of me will always be a part of you," she said. "But me, now, I don't think I want to be with you right now. I don't think I can."

"So that's it?" Ron said with a stiff voice.

"Ron," she said, her tears were still full, "I just want to be me, just Hermione."

Ron had nodded and took a hold of her hand as though it was going to be the last time he could ever hold it again. She thought she had seen the weak attempt of a smile.

"But," he started again, "it doesn't mean goodbye, right?"

"Ron you're my best friend," she had said firmly. "I never meant it to be."

Then suddenly, Hermione felt her ears start to ring. It sound like someone was calling her name from very far away.

"'Mione, 'Mione, Hermione!"

It had been Harry all along.

She looked down noticing that the cookie she had dipped in her tea was now soggy and crumbling into sopping pieces in her cup. She gasped and quickly took what was still intact out and set it on her saucer next to her forearm.

"Oh Harry," said Hermione, "I'm really sorry, I was just thinking about stuff."

"More like remembering though, right?" Harry said softly.

"A little," replied Hermione.

"I'm sorry," said Harry, noticing some distance in her voice. "I'm a jerk I shouldn't have said anything."

"No it's all right," Hermione said brightly. "Come on let's go, I want to go to the bookstore."

Harry nodded and stood up, waiting for Hermione to get up from her chair. She smiled towards him. He knew it was forced and decided not to say anything that might upset her. Then they set off again along the busy sidewalk, both of their thoughts drifting back to the past again, this time, to 4 years before.

Hermione had been working at the Ministry for a while moving up at a rapid pace. Life was finally going right for once. Ron and she had seemed to have reconciled any difficulties that might have occurred when they ended their romance. And finally, Hermione understood her true place in life again. She had done what she had set out to do: find herself. Working at the Ministry had allowed her to spend more time with Harry. Ron was always invited along whenever they went out to get drinks after work, however, he always seemed to be away on treasure hunt when they did go.

And then, on one of those normal summer evenings when Harry and Hermione went to grab something to eat after work, it happened. After having a small dinner, Harry saw Hermione safely home as usual. They liked to feel the breeze that came nightly as they walked. Though it was slower than Apparating home, they found it more enjoyable. On that night, as they were approaching Hermione's flat, she tugged on his arm.

"Come up for tea, like always?" Hermione had offered. "You can Apparate home right after."

"Of course, yeah," Harry had said.

As they stepped in her lofty flat, Hermione ran to the kitchen to put on the kettle. She offered Harry a seat at the stool by the kitchen counter. Harry nodded, taking it graciously while Hermione shuffled to her bedroom coming back with her bushy hair in a ponytail. She remembered how Harry's vivid green eyes had stared at her when she came back.

"Harry," she had said while frowning, "stop staring!"

Hermione turned away feeling her face go hot all the way to her ears.

"I can't help it," said Harry in a hesitant and breathless voice. "You look really amazing tonight."

Hermione looked back at him, feeling that her face was most certainly turning several shades of red. At the same moment, the shrill call of the kettle beckoned her and she turned around hastily, lifting it off the stove and grabbing two porcelain teacups and two saucers from a cupboard high up to her right. She made the tea promptly and returned to Harry with his empty cup. As she poured him some tea, she surprised herself by how much her hand had been shaking. Harry couldn't help but look on the gesture and laugh, but stopped as soon as she gave him a scolding glare.

He finished his tea quickly and then focused his bespectacled, green eyes on Hermione again. She gave a weak cough and reached over the counter to pour him some more tea. He covered his cup with his right hand before she could do so and steadied her still shaking hands with his left, persuading her to put the teapot down.

"I don't want anymore tea," Harry had said, getting up from his stool and walking to her side of the kitchen counter.

"Oh really? Well, then I've got loads of other stuff, like---erm---juice and---erm---tea and---," Hermione suggested as Harry started to move towards her.

"Right," said Harry, now only inches away from her and his hand now taking hers, slowly bringing his face closer to hers.

"And water, and, and---juice," Hermione continued in a stammer, unable to pull away, not wanting to pull away.

"You already said that," Harry said and then said nothing more as he pulled Hermione's face close to his and covering her lips with his in what he hoped was a gentle kiss.

She felt like she was in a daze as Harry let her go. After a few moments of thought she looked at Harry with her eyes wide open. She blinked once, twice, and then three times, suddenly his black hair looked softer, his eyes greener and more true, and she noticed the nervous twitch of his lips as he waited for her reaction. All of those features: they were still the same. They still belonged to Harry. She knew them better than a newly passed law. Yet, in opening her eyes to him at that very moment those features that she had known all her life were new and she was seeing them again for the first time.

"Holy cricket!" she exclaimed, unable to think of anything else to express how she felt.

Harry smiled and took her hands in his again, hoping that she wouldn't squirm away from him.

"Was that, erm, good then?" Harry said with his eyes wide and his heart pounding.

Hermione blinked several times at him, unable to control the smile that was forming on her lips and she let out a laugh that comforted him with its very calming tone.

"Yes," she said in resolution, "it was very good."

"Oh thank goodness!" Harry had said, a rush of relief sweeping through him. "Do you know how long I've wanted to do that?"

"It can't have been that long," Hermione supplied and then she saw a smile grow on Harry's face. "How long?"

"Since…er…since…fifth year."

"Fifth year?!" said Hermione, her mouth gaped in shock. "I didn't even know."

"I know, funny, isn't it?" said Harry in embarrassment. "I couldn't tell you at Hogwarts, because, well, you and Ron were---"

Before Harry was able to say another word, Hermione had quieted him by bringing her fingers to his lips. She smiled up at him and squeezed his hand in hers.

"Oh, well, then," she said with hope, "perhaps, we could just make up for lost time?"

Harry's eyes had widened and he couldn't quite believe his ears. But at that very moment, it didn't matter. All he cared about was that Hermione's hands were in his and that she had willingly returned to him another kiss.

Harry and Hermione were brought back to the present by a cool gust of wind that prompted her to close her cardigan more tightly over herself. Soon, she and Harry were standing at the front of a small bookstore filled with thousands of books from wall to wall. The store was run by a kind elderly woman whom Harry and Hermione knew to be a witch. Her hair was sufficiently curled today and her crystal blue eyes squinted with mirth as she smiled at the two of them.

"Oh, hello dears!" the kindly, stout witch said with excitement. "It's so wonderful to see the two of you again.

"Hi Mrs. Grendon," said Hermione brightly.

She stopped in front of the cash register giving Mrs. Grendon a kiss on the cheek. Harry also approached, grinning at the sweet woman who beckoned him to her so she could give him a kiss on the cheek as well. Mrs. Grendon beamed back looking on them in the fashion of a proud grandmother.

"Are you looking for something in particular, Hermione?" asked Mrs. Grendon.

"Oh no, not really," said Hermione, turning her eyes which were now twinkling at being in the presence of all these books. "I'll just have a look around."

Harry and Mrs. Grendon watched as Hermione drifted to the back of the bookstore, running her hands over the spines of the books as she walked in an aisle. Once she was out of earshot, the elderly witch pinched Harry's cheeks and began grinning wildly at him. Harry shot her an embarrassed smile and pulled away.

"So," Mrs. Grendon said, her eyes gleaming, "have you two finally gotten back together yet?"

"What?" Harry said nearly gasping and then he lowered his voice. "Mrs. Grendon!"

Mrs. Grendon's lips curled while Harry felt his entire face grow remarkably hot. He began looking at the ceiling and the walls with intense interest until he found solace by staring at the counter in front of him. He began to fiddle with a sticker on the counter that read: "We accept Visa and American Express" and as he read lower, enchanted writing scrolled across the bottom of the sticker reading: "All forms of wizarding currency are also accepted." He chuckled, understanding that Muggles, clearly, could not see it.

"Harry, don't be silly," Mrs. Grendon said, her voice in a merry tone. "I can see the way you look at her; I know you're still in love with her."

"Never stopped since the moment I started," Harry said, speaking softly.

Mrs. Grendon looked back at him fondly taking a hold of his young hand in her aged one. She patted his hand with hers in reassuring sort of way and Harry found this somewhat relieving though the doubts were still settled in his brain.

"You don't think she feels the same way?" Mrs. Grendon asked, eyeing the bookshelves to see that Hermione wasn't eavesdropping in the distance.

"Well, there's still Ron," said Harry, slowly tapping his fingers on the counter. "She's probably still in love with him."

Mrs. Grendon's eyes widened and Harry could clearly see that she was aghast at this.

"But Harry, that was so long ago!"

"Yeah, well---," said Harry taking a deep breath as though he was preparing to give a big speech, "Ron liked her before I did, dated her before I did, fell in love with her before I did. Ron was with her longer than I was. He's got the upper hand on everything. He knows her so well."

Mrs. Grendon said nothing, knowing that Harry had some more to say.

"If you look at the numbers Mrs. Grendon," Harry said solemnly, "I lose."

Mrs. Grendon furrowed her brow and gave out a loud 'harumpf" as soon as Harry said that. He could tell that she was not all impressed by his argument.

"Well, Harry dear, I have something to tell you," Mrs. Grendon said, fixing her eyes on him seriously, "Love is not a game of numbers."

Harry nodded while Mrs. Grendon turned to the back of the counter shuffling through the shelf behind her. He looked around the store seeing that Hermione was still engulfed in her search for a book. He heard a grunt come from Mrs. Grendon as she stood up with a big smile set on her face. It appeared that she had something hidden behind her back.

"Now, Harry," she leaned toward, her voice but a whisper. "Hermione's birthday is soon, correct?"
"Yes, September 19," Harry said, not sure why he too was whispering.

"Well I think I have the perfect gift for you to give to her."

Harry nodded, feeling a little embarrassed. He hadn't even begun looking for Hermione's present yet since he was so busy with work. He found himself feeling utterly grateful to Mrs. Grendon. At that moment, Mrs. Grendon pushed towards him a rectangular children's book: A Story of the Night Sky. The midnight blue cover was strewn with twinkling stars that seem to move on their own and the author's name, Hydrangea Lacroix, was sparkling continuously in silver letters. Harry's jaw dropped and he traced his hand over the cover and the stars stared to follow wherever his fingers went. He couldn't contain his wonder and he stared back at Mrs. Grendon, dumbfounded.

"Mrs. Grendon, I can't believe it," Harry stuttered, his green eyes wide, "this book, it…this…. Hermione and I used to---"

"I know you used to read it together," Mrs. Grendon completed. "I remember, you told me when you two were still together."

"Wow," Harry muttered, flipping through the crisp, clean, but old pages.

"It's a first addition, too!" Mrs. Grendon added causing Harry to double over in further disbelief. "But I'll give it to you on deal because I know what it means to you."

"Wow, Mrs. Grendon, I couldn't!" Harry stammered.

"Oh Harry dear, don't be ridiculous." Mrs. Grendon pleaded, "I know she'd love it and especially from you."

"I don't know," Harry said, unsure if he should take such a valuable item.

"Harry," Mrs. Grendon said in firm, clear voice, "please, even if it's not for Hermione, I know you'd like to have it."

Harry gazed at the book, remembering the nights that he and Hermione read it together. He remembered sitting across from her in bed while they took turns reading the pages aloud. He remembered when they sat outside under the simple light of a wand. And he remembered reading it with her by the fireside while she sat in his arms and they played with each other's fingertips. Those were some of the warmest memories of his life.

"I'll have it," Harry said resolutely, handing her 18 galleons.

Mrs. Grendon smiled and rang the book up at the register.

"I'll owl it to you, so you don't have to leave the store with it," Mrs. Grendon smiled. "She'll be perfectly surprised."

Harry grinned back humbly as she hid it behind the counter again. She patted him gently on the shoulder when Hermione showed holding several books in her arms.

"So," Hermione said, shuffling to the cash register with her stack of books in hand, "what have you two been talking about all this time?"

Mrs. Grendon smiled at Harry slyly.

"We've been talking about you, of course," said Mrs. Grendon, airily with a soft laugh.

"Oh really?" asked Hermione, her eyebrows raised in sudden interest. "What about me?"

Harry gave Mrs. Grendon a firm stare but turned to Hermione with an innocent, boyish grin.

"Oh, all terrible things, of course," Harry said. "I mean c'mon, what else is there to talk about?"

Hermione glared at him with her lips pursed and then pushed all the books towards Mrs. Grendon. The elderly witch giggled as she observed Harry stare innocently back at Hermione. Harry watched as Mrs. Grendon began checking the books one by one. He couldn't believe how many books Hermione bought each year, each month even. It was like she was shopping for another year at Hogwarts though they were well out of school. He scanned the titles: The History of Rumanian Vampires, Fairy Tales: The Dark Truth Behind the Tales, A Wizarding World that Can't Say Yes: A Look at Muggle and Wizard Relations, A Study of Muggles View of Magic: A Path of Religion not Magic and…

Mrs. Grendon's breathy gasp interrupted his thoughts and he looked at her gaping at a few Muggle books entitled: Modern Weddings, Dream Weddings on a Budget, and The Young Woman's Guide to Planning Her Dream Wedding. Hermione looked back at her nervously, while glancing at her nails every few seconds.

"They're for our friend Ginny," Harry said simply. "She's getting married."

"Ginny Weasley?" Mrs. Grendon said in surprise. "Getting married?"

"Yes," Hermione replied with a smile, "to Draco Malfoy."

The answer only made Mrs. Grendon become horrified. Harry glanced at Hermione with shrug and then she turned back to Mrs. Grendon with comforting smile.
"He's really a better guy now," said Harry, who was now nodding with Hermione. "Of course, it means that he's had to sever ties with his entire family. They've pretty much disowned him."

Hermione nodded sadly at the last bit of information and looked to Mrs. Grendon who had her hand cupped over her mouth in shock and disappointment. Like most wizards and witches the idea of "pure-blood" prejudice among witches and wizards made her cringe. The Malfoy family was particularly elitist, even though most pure-blood wizards had mostly died out. Draco Malfoy had finally been able to realize how backwards-thinking his parents were, but at the price of being disowned by his family. He had been quite happy to leave, especially since he had fallen in love with Ron's little sister, Ginny. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had often been awed by how much Draco was beginning to loathe his own family name.

"Well, that's just awful," Mrs. Grendon said curtly.

"Yeah it is," Harry said in short voice.

Mrs. Grendon shook her head in morose as she handed Hermione's book to her in a plastic bag. Harry observed that Mrs. Grendon was staring back at them with a wide smile now and that her eyes were glimmering in hopeful pride. It caused Harry to feel hot in the face and he actually felt eager to go out into the dreary cold weather.

"Well, then Mrs. Grendon," said Hermione, "we'll be off now."

"Oh," Mrs. Grendon said, slightly disappointed. "So good to see you two though, really."

"And you too, Mrs. Grendon," said Hermione, leaning forward over the table as they kissed each other on the cheek.

"You both should come to see me more often," she said and then pointed at Harry. "Especially you, Harry, even though you don't read as much as you should."

Harry laugh and bent down over the counter so Mrs. Grendon could give him a light peck on the cheek. When he straightened up she squeezed one of his cheeks between her pointer finger and thumb, making it a little red from the pressure. Harry and Hermione waved at her as they walked out of the shop. Harry turned his eyes back for a moment to see Mrs. Grendon winking at him and he gave back a small smile.

Once again, Harry and Hermione were walking along the London sidewalk, under the clouds that threatened to open up and pour rain over them. Harry shoved his hands in his pockets and didn't say a word. Hermione glanced over at him, noticing that his silence was far from normal. She wondered, shortly, if he was angry with her and not saying why.

"Are you all right, Harry?" Hermione asked in concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine," said Harry quickly.

"Really?" said Hermione, unconvinced. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," said Harry, becoming ruffled. "When I say I'm fine, I'm FINE."

Hermione put her head down indignantly, feeling slightly offended by Harry's quick temper.

"Ok, I get it," said Hermione curtly. "Don't bite my head off all right?"

Harry stopped in his steps, his eyes turning up to the cloudy sky while Hermione walked on a few more steps when she realized he was not beside her anymore. She twisted back to him on her heel and stopped before him with an exasperated huff. Harry noticed the frustrated crinkle of her nose, the one she got whenever she was upset or whenever she looked at him like he were crazy.

"Look," Harry began, taking his hands out of his pockets, "I'm sorry, I just, you know, get a bit short-tempered sometimes."
"Yes, I know," said Hermione staring off to some place where several pedestrians had passed as they walked around them. "It's one of the things that really annoys me about you."
"'Mione---," Harry said, forcefully.

"But, I make due with it since you are my best friend," said Hermione with finality. "And I'm not quite prepared to lose that if that's all right with you."
Harry stared back at her, bemused. Despite her acceptance of this character flaw of his, however grudging that acceptance was, he could see that she was actually very upset by him raising his voice at her. The guilt swept over his body like poison potion.

"I'm sorry," said Harry. "I'll try harder not to get so---erm---moody so much."

"Oh please, you couldn't stop doing that as much as I couldn't stop bossing you around," Hermione said.

Though her tone had been seemingly serious, Harry could tell that it was light enough to pass off as a joke. He laughed lightly and then sighed rather deeply after it, still hoping that he had not upset her too much.

Before long the two of them stood in front of some stone stairs that lead to a quaint red door. Hermione stopped, Harry followed suit.

"Well," said Hermione, pointing to the door of her flat, "this is my stop."

Harry glanced at it warmly and then nodded.

"Yeah, yeah I remember," said Harry. "Well---"

Hermione smiled and then gave him a squeezing hug and a kiss on the cheek.

"I'll see you, Harry," she said as she unlocked the red door, stepping inside her flat.

Before she closed the door, she waved to him and he waved back. Harry stood there for a moment even though she had already closed the door. When he finally decided to start off, Harry felt a soft, wet, and tiny pellet hit the back of his hand. The drops increased in quantity, becoming faster as they did. Soon his glasses became spotted with rain drops and his unruly black hair dampened. Again, Harry looked up at the sky and then continued to walk home in the pattering rain.