Lifelines

Chapter 1: Letters from Friends

Hermione Granger stirred in bed, unconsciously kicking the flower-patterned bedspread off her. She opened her eyes slowly, noticing the vertically lined wallpaper that surrounded her. Her hands immediately flew to her eyes, where she began to rub them drowsily.

Where am I? She thought to herself. This is not my flat.

Her eyes adjusted once more to the morning light that began to fill the room when she suddenly remembered that she was at her parents’ house. She breathed a heavy sigh of relief and stepped out of her old bed and into the slippers at its edge. She began to make her bed. When she was done she grabbed the soft pink robe that hung on the hook on her door and put it over her nightdress before she headed downstairs to the breakfast nook.

When she got down to the nook, her mother sat at the table with a warm smile on her face.

“Good morning, dear,” she said kindly.

“Good morning, mum,” Hermione said, smiling back at her.

“Some tea?” her mother offered.

“Oh yes, please,” Hermione nodded as she took a seat next to her. “Thanks mum.”

Her mother slowly poured her a cup of tea from the white china set they had been using as long as Hermione could remember. She smiled as her mother handed her the teacup and was reminded of her childhood in this house. It seemed to her like it was only yesterday that she had gotten her letter to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. But in reality, she had already graduated from there and was now 25 years old. She had already been an auror for the Ministry of Magic along with one of her best friends, Harry Potter, and was now in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

“Dad’s gone to work then already, has he mum?”

“Yes dear,” her mother answered as she began shuffling through some envelopes at the table. “Oh and you have a few owls that came.”

“I have?” Hermione asked, taking the envelopes that her mother handed to her.

One of them was an official letter from the Ministry. It was merely informational about a few witches and wizards that were bordering on misusing their magic. She skimmed over the names: Mimsy O'Connor, Tucker Wiles, Andrew Wells, Isabelle Gerlantes...were a few of them. She frowned a little bit, but then tucked the letter back into its envelope. The other three letters she received were from her friends. The first she opened was very nice. It was white and embossed with iridescent flowers all around it. At the front, centre of the envelope was her name written in beautiful, shining gold ink.

Miss Hermione Granger

She opened it carefully and recognized the handwriting to belong to her friend, Ginny Weasley.

“WHAT?” Hermione yelled, nearly spitting up her tea.

“Honestly, Hermione!” her mother exclaimed.

“Oh sorry, Mum,” she said quickly, continuing to read.

“Oh my God!” Hermione whispered. “I can’t believe it.”

“What is it dear?” her mother asked, her brow furrowed in worry. “Is something wrong?”

“Oh no, not at all,” she replied. “Far from it.”

“Then don’t keep me in suspense,” her mother urged.

“Ginny’s engaged,” she cried, a huge smile on her face.

“Ron’s little sister?” her mother exclaimed, sharing her shock. “Oh my goodness.”

“Yes and she wants me to be her maid of honor,” Hermione added. “She wants a Muggle-style wedding.”

“Well, that’s exciting,” her mother said with a smile. “Who are the other two from?”

Hermione paused for a moment wondering what her mother was talking about. Then she glanced at the table again, looking at the two envelopes she had not yet opened. She took them up quickly.

“Oh, I nearly forgot,” Hermione said, walking to the living room and sitting on the couch.

She opened the first one and drew a deep breath when she read the familiar messy handwriting.

It was from her other best friend, Ron Weasley.

Hermione closed the letter silently. It seemed very short to her and she began to wish he had written more though not surprised that he didn’t. She suspected he might still be a little bit upset about when they broke up and the events that had followed. She sighed, closed her eyes and tried to forget it. Then she took the last envelope and opened it. Another sigh escaped from her when she realized whom it was from.

This time, it was Harry.

Hermione grimaced in disapproval as she read the sentence.

Hermione stared at both the letters, more frustrated inside. She couldn’t help but feel strongly for the both of them. She knew, despite how much Ron and Harry still wrote to each other, still acted civil around each other, that there was a little bit of a riff between them.

“Why can’t it just be the way it was?” She said to her self.

A voice inside her head answered for her.

Because of you.

As much as she didn’t want to believe it was true, she knew it was. She only hoped there was a way for them to get their happy trio back to the way it was when they had started Hogwarts.

Soon Hermione’s mother sat beside her. She looked beautiful and more motherly at that very moment. She felt like curling up to her like she had when she was a little girl and just had a bad dream. Her mother smiled back and took a hold of her hand.

“Who were the other two from?” she asked Hermione again.

“Ron and Harry,” she answered. “I have to write Ginny back, tell her I’ll visit her at the Burrow to help her plan the wedding. Oh but, Ron’ll probably be there and Harry probably, too. Maybe we can---ohhh I don’t know mum.”

“Hermione,” she began softly, putting her arms around her daughter, “it’ll be all right. Just remember that you aren’t a little girl anymore. You’re not that little girl in Hogwarts. You’re a beautiful young woman now.”

Hermione nodded, hugging her mother back. She wasn’t sure what she meant, but she was glad she was there holding her like she did whenever she had a problem.

* * *

Hermione was sitting in the garden outside her parents’ house. Harry’s and Ron’s owls, Hedwig and Pigwidgeon, were still at her house waiting for her to reply to the letters she had received. She had decided to write Ron and Ginny first.

She closed the letter and Pigwidgeon fluttered to her side, nipping at her finger eagerly.

“Not yet, Pig,” she said sweetly to the tiny grey owl. “I’ve got one more to write for Ron. “

Pigwidgeon squeaked in happy acknowledgement and waited while Hermione wrote her letter to Ron.

She paused for a moment, wondering exactly what she might say, but when she started writing it came so easy, like all the strife in the past was nothing but a memory. She suddenly remembered that she was fine and that Ron was still her friend.

She smiled and then folded the letter. Pigwidgeon noticed and twittered to her lap holding out its tiny foot out so she could tie the letters there. When she was done, she nuzzled Pigwidgeon at her neck before she flew off to deliver the messages. Then she drew out another piece of parchment and began to write her letter for Harry.

Hermione beckoned Hedwig to her once done with the letter. The snowy, white owl approached, holding her head up in a regal way as if she were ready take on some sort of daunting mission.

“Come here you haughty little owl,” she teased, while Hedwig cooed at her affectionately. “Get this to Harry fast, all right?”

Hedwig nodded and flew off to deliver her letter. Shortly after, Hermione heard footsteps approaching from behind, rustling on the bright green, well-kept grass. She turned around to meet her father, still wearing nice grey slacks, a blue button-down shirt, and his white jacket from the dentists’ office. A warm smile crinkled his face as he approached her, giving her a small kiss on the right cheek.

“Hi dad!” she said. “How was work?”

“Oh the usual...teeth,” he replied nonchalantly, causing Hermione to chuckle. “Sending letters to work?”

Hermione’s father pointed to the sky where the owls had taken off.

“Oh no, nothing official,” she replied. “The last two were to Harry and Ron, actually.”

“Ah... the triangle,” Hermione’s father teased.

“I’m so glad you find my romantic life so amusing dad,” she said dryly. “Maybe I should date someone normal, a Muggle, like Mum says.”

Her father frowned and shook his head, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

“Oh no, I quite disagree with your mother on that respect,” said Dr. Granger.

“Do you?” Hermione asked, raising her eyebrows with interest. “Why’s that?”

“Oh on the whole, us Muggles are rather droll.”

“Dad, you’re not droll!”

“Oh well, besides me,” he laughed, “but all the others, they’d bore you to death, you know? You’re far too extraordinary to date just some frumpy man...Muggle or wizard for that matter.”

“Right,” Hermione said, rolling her eyes.

“No, I mean it. Look at the life you’ve lived Hermione,” he insisted. “It’ll be some man who can live up to the two men that you compare all others to.”

“Dad!” she cried indignantly.

“Oh Hermione, dear, lighten up,” he said. “I meant it as a good thing. I’d rather you be picky than just settle.”

They walked inside into the living area and sat on the couch. She sighed as she put her head on her father’s strong shoulder. He patted her head in reassurance.

“I know Dad, I know you’re right,” she sighed.

“Just remember now that you’re an adult things are different, you know?” he said, similarly to her mother. “You’re not a little girl anymore; I think you’ll be able to figure out what you want, what you need, if you don’t know already.”

Hermione looked up at her father, wondering what exactly what both of her parents meant by that. She wanted to ask, but decided it would just confuse her more. But for some reason, the words comforted her and she smiled back at her father.

“Thanks, Dad.”

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.

Chapter 3: Back to the Burrow Again

Hermione sat on the floral covers of her oversized bed, expertly checking the items she was to bring with her to the Burrow. Two weeks had passed since September the first and it was now only the night before she’d being going to see Ginny. It was also only another two days before her 26th birthday. She was more than ready for some time off from work having had her hands full and her head aching with meetings with the same O’Connor, Gerlantes, Wells, and Wiles that tried to skirt bylaws enforced by Department of Magical Law Enforcement. She perused some of the letters that she received from everyone before she went to bed.

Ginny and Draco wrote the first one together.

The writing had changed and Hermione laughed as she read on.

The writing changed again.

Hermione smiled and then set down their letter on her bedside table at the left of her bed. Then she went on to read Ron’s letter.

Lastly, Hermione opened Harry’s letter.

Hermione couldn’t help but laugh at the line.

Hermione felt the warm feeling of happiness spread throughout her as she set down both Harry and Ron’s letters on the bedside stand. After one final check of her things she shut her suitcase and with a swish and flick she levitated it to the other side of the room. She then scooted into her large bed, pulling the covers to her chest and darkened the room with her wand. A calmness took over her and she drifted to sleep with ease.

She awoke early the next morning to shower and get ready before she Apparated to the Burrow. Before leaving she successfully conjured up a cup of strong coffee to liven her up. Soon after she was ready to go and she dashed back to her bedroom where she picked up her small suitcase. Then with a loud pop she Apparated to the Burrow.

A smile curled up the corners of her lips as she found herself standing in front of the door to the Weasley’s home. Hermione then put her hand up and knocked on the door. She heard loud footsteps racing down the stairs and then the door swung open. Ginny came dashing at her with her fiery red hair flying behind her. Hermione found herself in a great hug with the youngest child and only daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

“Hermione!” shouted Ginny with glee. “Oh, I’m so happy to see you!”
“I’m happy to see you too!” said Hermione with as much excitement as Ginny.

Ginny took a hold of Hermione’s arm and led her inside her home. Hermione smiled and breathed deeply, taking in the sweet familiar smells of the Weasley house. She watched with a nostalgic smile as she glanced at a pot washing itself in the sink and as bewitched knitting needles were making a red jumper. Her eyes drifted to the old clock that showed whereabouts of the each member of the Weasley family. The hands on the clock bore the faces of each family member. Ginny was home, Mrs. Weasley: home, Mr. Weasley: work, Bill, Charlie, Percy were also pointed to work, while Ron’s hand was pointed to home like his mother and Ginny. Hermione smile thinking that Harry had been right: the place was very capable of making everyone feel at home.

“Mum, Ron...come down, come down!” said Ginny in delight. “Look who’s just arrived!”

Ginny turned back to Hermione with a bright smile just as Mrs. Weasley came downstairs. Hermione had only to glance at her once to see that her eyes were inviting and warm as she moved towards her to wrap her in a motherly hug. Hermione squeezed back, relieved to see that Mrs. Weasley did not appear to still be upset at the fact that she and Ron were still not together.

“Ohh, dear Hermione, it‘s so good to see you!” said Mrs. Weasley.

At that same moment, slower footsteps sounded from the stairs. When Hermione looked up she saw Ron slowly making his way down the stairs. He was as tall and as lanky as ever and he had to hunch over a little so his head wouldn’t hit the ceiling that started before the stairs finished. Hermione took a deep breath and then smiled at Ron who reciprocated with his own smile. Ron stepped toward her tentatively and then moved his arms slightly. Hermione, to his relief, understood and took him in a hug.

“Hi, Ron,” she said fondly, as she let him go.

“Hey Herm--mione,” said Ron, not sure if he should call her by the nickname he’d given her.

Hermione began to giggle at his fumble and then squeezed his arm gently. After putting her suitcase in Ginny’s room, where she was to be sleeping, she made her way downstairs again and headed straight to the kitchen to see if Mrs. Weasley needed help with breakfast.

“No dear,” said Mrs. Weasley in a cheery voice, “you go on with Ginny now, I’m sure she has a lot of questions about the wedding.”

Hermione noticed a sort of shine in Mrs. Weasley’s eyes as she spoke her daughter’s name. She was almost sure that she was on the verge of tears.

“Mrs. Weasley,” Hermione began in concern, “are you sure that you’re OK with this---a Muggle wedding?”

Mrs. Weasley squeezed her eyes tightly so that fine lines appeared at their corners. It was as though she was stopping tears. She opened her eyes and then looked back at Hermione, her expression soft.

“As long as Ginny’s happy,” said Mrs. Weasley softly before she rushed Hermione out of the kitchen.

Hermione walked outside holding a hand above her forehead, shadowing her eyes from the morning sun that was gliding over the grassy fields outside the Weasley house. She saw Ron grabbing and tossing a few gnomes out into the fields. Ginny sat at a wooden dinner table that the Weasley’s often used to have meals when there were just too many people to fit inside. Hermione joined Ginny at the table.

“How have you been Ginny?” asked Hermione, noticing the spectacular glow around her that she knew was not being supplied by magic.

“I’m wonderful,” said Ginny dreamily, “absolutely wonderful!”

Ginny pushed her long red hair out of her face as the wind danced through the air along with high-pitched squeals from the gnomes as he tossed them into the sky. As the squeals increased in frequency Hermione rolled her eyes and tugged on her ears uncomfortably.

“Ginny, what made you want to have a Muggle wedding?” asked Hermione, thinking back to Mrs. Weasley.

“Oh, I don’t know,” said Ginny. “I’ve always rather liked Muggles and their customs you know, but---”

Ginny paused and then gave Hermione a quizzical smile.

“But it was Draco who brought it up.”

“’Draco?!” exclaimed Hermione. “Really?”

Ginny nodded happily.

“That’s what I thought,” Ginny said with a laugh taking note of Hermione’s surprised expression, “but he said all this stuff about how it was time to break the mold, set an example, because their are still some wizards out there who think pure-bloods are better.”

Hermione stared back at Ginny, dumbstruck and then giggled.

“And you’re sure Draco said this?” teased Hermione.

Ginny laughed with her, but their mirth was interrupted by two quick pops from behind them. Ginny and Hermione turned to see two identical, stocky red-headed bodies standing before them. Ron had been so surprised that he stopped in mid-spin and flung a gnome he was holding in the wrong direction, flying quickly to one of the identical men’s head.

“OUCH!” Fred shouted, yanking the gnome from his face while his twin brother, George keeled over in laughter.

“Oops, sorry ‘bout that,” said Ron, but speaking so plainly that it sounded like he wasn’t.

“Fred, George!” Ginny exclaimed as she stood up and walked over to her brothers.

“Hey---there---Gin---ny,” Fred grunted as he spun around and around, hurtling the gnome into the distance.

George gave a long, impressed whistle and watched as the gnome disappeared. The two of them then turned their attention to their little sister patting her on the head and struggling to pull away as she attempted to wrap them in bone crushing hugs.

“Hey little brother,” George said, slapping Ron squarely on the back. “Hey Hermione.”

Hermione waved back and soon all of them had congregated into the house. Fred and George entered stealthily and just as Mrs. Weasley turned around they set off mini-fireworks all around her.

“FRED AND GEORGE WEASLEY!” their mother yelled. “JUST BECAUSE YOU ARE GROWN UP AND RUN A SUCCESSFUL JOKE SHOP DOES NOT MEAN THAT YOU CAN DISREGARD THE RULES IN MY HOUSE!”

“Hello to you too, Mum,” Fred said, grinning.

“Look, Mum, relax, ” George laughed, pointing to the floor. “They turn into rose petals.”

Mrs. Weasley looked down at the floor which was now strewn with dainty pink rose petals. She gave a weak grin, indicating that she may have liked to see them another time and not in surprise while she was cooking breakfast. Fred approached his mother, kissed her on the cheek and then reached over to grab a biscuit. However, he was stopped by a quick slap of his mother’s hand.

“Aw, Mum, why not?” Fred groaned. “How often do you get to see your favorite sons?”

“Because,” Mrs. Weasley said sharply, “not everyone is here yet.”

Fred and George turned their eyes to Ginny who had somehow managed to sneak a biscuit and was waving it temptingly in front of them.

“When’s everyone coming?” George asked.

“Who’s everyone?” Fred followed, joining George in a nod.

“Well,” Ginny began, turning to the clock, “Dad’s travelling, probably to home, Harry is stopping at Draco’s then they’re coming here, Ron is obviously here. He got the week off---” she paused and eyed Fred and George with scrutiny, “and Bill, Charlie and Percy are not here for obvious dutiful and important reasons.”

Ginny smiled coyly at her brothers, who were feigning looks of shock.

“Yes,” Hermione said in an accusatory tone, “why aren’t you two at work?”

Fred and George grinned triumphantly.

“Lee’s covering for us,” Fred informed everyone.
“Yeah,” George continued, “and the since we own the store we always have people in the store working for us.”

“Plus,” Fred added eagerly, “most of the work George and I do is with clients in different countries who want some of our products, but, alas, we do not have a business meeting this week.”

As the twins began to laugh, Hermione rolled her, eyes rather unimpressed, though Fred and George were making a fortune with their joke shop. Mrs. Weasley also smirked at this though all of them noticed a smile curl her mouth upwards. She was actually very pleased that her sons were doing so well for themselves.

“Well, if we can’t have breakfast yet,” George said as he hoisted his bag on his shoulder, “me and Fred’ll just go up to our old room for a bit.”

Mrs. Weasley nodded and then went back to her cooking. Ginny, becoming increasingly antsy, stood up and began to help her mother with the cooking. Hermione caught Ron looking at her from the corner of his eye.

“Hey,” Ron said, standing up, “wanna go for a walk?”

Hermione nodded and then stood up to walk outside the house again. As they rounded the path around the house, the air around them was filled with silence.

“How’ve you been?” asked Ron, ruffling his hair nervously.

“Pretty well,” answered Hermione. “Works going well, it’s a little stressful. I’m having particular trouble with these O’Connor and Gerlantes women. They think that they can just wave the law and do magic in the non-magical world. It’s quite dangerous really! But I like my job and I‘m moving up fast.”

“That figures,” said Ron with a chuckle. “You like to move up so you can boss people around.”

“Ah, well, of course,” said Hermione with glee and then straightened her face in deep thought. “You know it’s a little strange being back here after so long.”

“Yeah,” said Ron in an agreeing nod, “especially for me since I grew up in this house, but---”

“But it hasn’t changed a bit, has it?” said Hermione with a kind smile.

“Yeah, lots of things stay the same no matter what,” Ron said slowly.

“Hmm, true,” agreed Hermione wistfully, “except that we’re not children anymore.”

Ron frowned a little at the comment and then shook his head in disagreement. He was not surprised to see Hermione raising her eyebrows at him as though expecting a thorough explanation as to what he meant.

“Speak for yourself,” said Ron happily, “Harry and I both agreed in Hogwarts that we’d be kids forever.”

“Oh, yes, of course you would,” Hermione said in a seething tone.

Ron shook with laughter and then said, “See, like I said, something’s never change.”

“Ron!” Hermione said firmly, just prompting more laughs from him.

As they came around again, two pops reached their ears along with two voices that were springing from the front of the house. Ron and Hermione began to dash around to the front of the house. Whoever it was, they were already inside. As they entered, Hermione felt a quick and nervous pounding in her chest. She thought for a moment, furrowing her brow in consternation. Oh my, I’m in terrible shape! She thought to herself as loud and excited voices came out of the house.

“Ohh, Draco, hello,” Mrs. Weasley greeted sweetly, kissing her future son-in-law on the cheeks.

“Hi, Mum,” Ron and Hermione heard Draco say in a happy voice and they shared a confused looks, “where’s Virginia?”

“Oh she's just upstairs,” Mrs. Weasley grinned. “Ohhhh, Harry, dear, it’s so wonderful to see you.”

“Hi Mrs. Weasley,” they heard him say, “Are Ron and Hermione up there too?”

Ron’s ears perked and Hermione put her hand to her chest as though she had been running hard. Their best friend, Harry Potter, rounded the corner. His spectacularly green eyes had been inquisitive, but they suddenly turned bright and full of pure happiness. He came running at Ron and Hermione and they wrapped each other in the largest of hugs.

“Hey, mate!” Ron exclaimed, hardly able to contain his excitement as he kept his arms around Harry and Hermione. “It’s really, really, great to see you again!!!”

“It’s been way too long, Ron!” said Harry with a satisfied look on his face as though he had just finished a long journey. “Look, it’s the three of us again!”

In the middle of the embrace, Hermione had her hands clapped over her face and tears flowed from her eyes. As far as Harry and Ron could tell, she showed no signs of stopping.

“’Mione,” said Harry, bewildered. “Don’t start crying now. There’s nothing to cry about.”

“Yeah, it’s really not becoming on you at all,” Ron said, grinning at Harry.

“Ron’s right you know,” said Harry. “Your face, it gets all splotchy.”

“And red,” Ron added pointing his finger in the air as he fought off laughs with Harry. “Don’t forget red.”

“Oh, stop the both of you!!” Hermione pleaded through her tears. “It’s just been so long since the three of us have been together.”

“That’s true,” said Harry softly, squeezing Hermione’s shoulder. “But we’re together now.”

Hermione nodded wiping her tears away with her fingertips. Soon footsteps came down the stairs. Draco, who had gone upstairs to find Ginny was now walking downstairs behind her. They were followed closely by Fred and George whose faces drooped from hunger.

“Granger,” Draco said in a drawling tone.

“Malfoy,” Hermione replied in a serious face, paused, and then let out a small laugh. “How are you?”

“I’m wonderful,” he said and then he turned his eyes to Ron “Hey Weasley.”

Draco held out his hand to Ron who took it in a firm but friendly grip. They grinned at each other and Draco patted him on the back in a jovial way. At the same time, Fred and George had slumped on the kitchen table.

“Mum can we---,” Fred began.

“Not until your father comes home!” said Mrs. Weasley firmly.

Then, with perfect timing, the front door swung open. Mr Weasley bustled in carrying a brown briefcase and wearing an olive green jacket over his tweed suit.

“Molly, I’m home!” said Mr. Weasley brightly and then jumped in shock when he saw all the faces in his kitchen. “By Merlin, I thought all our children had already moved out.”

“They’re visiting, remember Arthur?” Mrs. Weasley reminded him as he kissed her on the cheek. “And not all of them are our children.”

Mrs. Weasley gestured towards Harry, Hermione, and Draco. Mr. Weasley squinted his eyes through his horn-rimmed glasses as though inspecting the three of them. Then he turned away and gave a small shrug, saying, “They may as well be.”

Harry, Hermione and Draco beamed and suddenly the twins sat up staring eagerly at their mother. She turned with a smile and their faces glowed in relief as they were finally able to eat. Everyone gathered around the table: Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, then Fred and George, Draco and Ginny, while Hermione was sandwiched between Harry and Ron.

Mrs. Weasley made a decadent breakfast that consisted of several types of omelettes including vegetable, cheese, and ham. There was also crisp bacon and hotcakes. Most important, though, were her homemade biscuits that were piled high on a platter at the centre of the table. When everyone was done, they slouched back into their chairs and, still, there was plenty left over on the table.

“Well, that was lovely Mum,” Draco beamed and then stood up. “I’ll do the dishes.”

“Oh, I’ll help,” said Harry, his eyes turning gratefully towards Mrs. Weasley.

“Well, me too then,” said Hermione, reaching over to start grabbing plates.

Soon everyone was clamoring around, cooperating in cleaning the dishes and the kitchen. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley smiled with grateful surprise and took the moment to just sit with each other. With everyone else’s cooperation the dishes and the kitchen sparkled with cleanliness. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley laughed in glee, thankful for everyone’s help.

Then an owl came for Fred and George with several papers about their business and they hurried upstairs to look over them. Draco and Ginny sat closely with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley in the living room with more conversations that centred around their upcoming wedding. Harry, Ron, and Hermione took the time to go outside and walk around the property.

Hermione beamed at both her best friends, hooking an arm though each of theirs. With both of them by her side, the air was suddenly lighter, the sky clearer and the wind calmer and cooler. She couldn’t remember the last time she was so happy. She couldn’t remember the last time she saw Ron and Harry so happy.

“So, been all right, Ron?” asked Harry.

“Yeah, really good, actually,” said Ron. “Still with Gringotts, of course.”

“Yeah?” said Harry. “Bill still there too?”

“Yeah, but he’s taken on a permanent desk job now,” said Ron with a chuckle. “It’s more ‘family-friendly’ he says, you know, for Fleur and the baby.”

“That baby will grow up to be gorgeous!” murmured Hermione.

“Yeah, because Fleur’s really pretty,” Harry and Ron both said with rather dreamy looks on their faces.

Hermione tugged on their arms with great force. The look in her eyes was so penetrating that it made them feel as though they had just drunk a tank of shrinking juice.

“Who was talking about Fleur?” Hermione said, “I meant that the baby will be gorgeous because of Bill.”

Her words caused them to stand paralyzed in their places while she walked on a few steps ahead. They looked at each other with a shrug before they caught up with her again.

“What about you Harry?” Ron began again. “How’s life?”

“Ah well, you know, I’m still a lowly Auror,” Harry joked.

“Because you’re acting lazy,” said Hermione in a stern voice.

“Well,” Harry said and paused in thought, “yes, yes I am.”

Ron let out a burst of laughter to which Hermione gave him a sharp glare.

“You could move up if you wanted to,” suggested Hermione. “You’re really good at what you do, Harry.”
“Yes, well I don’t think I’m much a person to sit behind a desk,” said Harry, looking intently at Hermione, “like some other people I know.”

“Herm, you were always one to move up the job ladder,” Ron added in response to Harry’s comment. “Harry just likes where he is.”

“I know!” Hermione snapped, feeling her cheeks grow warm in indignation. “I’m just making a point.”

“Well...if you must know,” Harry started in mock exasperation, “I am actually trying for Chief Auror, that way I’ll still be able to do fieldwork and move up and make more at the same time.”

Hermione turned to him in surprise. In all this time she had thought Harry had absolutely no intention of moving up.

“I---I didn’t know you wanted to be Chief Auror,” said Hermione, her voice faltering a little. “Well that’s good.”
And dangerous. She added as an afterthought to herself.

It was one of the best jobs in the Ministry but one that was only to be accepted by someone who was skilled enough and crazy enough to do it. Hermione clenched her fist for a moment nervously, thinking that Harry was definitely both of those things.

“Let’s not talk about work, though,” Harry supplied.

“Well, then,” said Ron thoughtfully with a mischievous glimmer in his eyes, “seeing as Harry and I were both in madly in love with the same woman at one point or another, then I say we talk about your love life, Hermione.”
Hermione’s jaw dropped in shock. Ron and Harry, though, seemed to be watching her with the same amusement one would obtain from watching a comedy.

“Yeah,” Harry murmured, “still wrapping Seamus around your little finger?”

“Oh, how both of you know me so well,” said Hermione airily.

Ron laughed and then turned to Harry, “How about you, Harry? How many gorgeous women are throwing themselves at you these days?”

“Er---well,” Harry began hesitantly, “some people from work set me up on a date with some girl a few nights ago.”

“Oh really?” Hermione asked in interest.

“And gorgeous like always, eh Harry?” said Ron.

“I guess,” responded Harry, “ ‘gorgeous’ is a very relative word.”

There was a comfortable silence between them and they continued to walk around the house. When the sun became higher over the sky, they settled back into the house. Hours had slipped passed them since morning and the household still seemed busy. Mrs. Weasley was in the kitchen again making sandwiches for their lunch, while Mr. Weasley was heavily engrossed in a conversation with Ginny and Draco in a final effort to convince them that sparkplugs was the trendy way to go for their wedding decor. Fred and George still passed the time upstairs sorting out their business affairs.

When Mrs. Weasley was done with the sandwiches, everyone congregated around the table again to eat. Fortunately, the sandwiches were small and they did not feel nearly as full as they had in the morning. When they were done Draco hurried out to the shed and then came in again, holding in his arms several brooms. He was sporting a playful smile on his face.

“Anyone up for a game of Quidditch?” he asked.

Harry, Ron, and Fred and George lit up, giving each other excited grins and eagerly grabbed brooms from Draco. They filed outside ahead of Draco who looked back at Ginny and Hermione.

“Virginia,” said Draco holding two spare brooms out to her and Hermione, “do you and Hermione want to play?”

Ginny glanced at Hermione to see her opinion. Hermione shook her head, her bushy hair whipping around her shoulders.

“Sorry Malfoy,” said Hermione with a shrug, “I’m not very good at flying.”

“I think I’ll stay with Hermione, Draco,” said Ginny. “We’ve got to discuss the wedding stuff anyway, but we’ll go out and watch you play.”

Hermione nodded in agreement and then Draco headed outside to join the rest of the players outside. After gathering the wedding books that she brought with her, Hermione and Ginny walked outside to see Harry, Ron, Draco, Fred and George zooming through the sky, their brooms making whooshing sounds as they passed. While they hooted and laughed jovially in the air, Hermione and Ginny sat on a bench on the Weasleys’ porch. They laid the book on a round wooden table before them and began flipping through the pages while lifting their eyes every once and a while to watch the progress of the game.

“Wow, look at all these dresses!” exclaimed Ginny, her eyes growing wider as she flipped through the pages. “They’re all beautiful but they must be expensive.”

“Hmm, yes that’s true,” said Hermione with a slight frown. “But I’m sure we’ll find something nice.”
The two of them continued to marvel at the decorations in the books. Hermione was surprised with herself about how excited she was becoming about Ginny’s wedding. Ginny seemed more excited than she was ( and rightly so since it was her wedding) but as Hermione read on, she couldn’t help but sink into a mixture of further excitement and confusion as she read on about bouquets, cakes and dresses.

Ginny, confused in her own way, turned to Hermione for explanations. To the best of her ability, Hermione tried to explain all the elements of a Muggle wedding to Ginny. It was difficult for her to describe because she had never been married and had never been to a wedding. The wheels inside her mind turned as she began to remember details from several movies she’d seen that had featured weddings in them. Through her explanation Ginny would ask questions like “Why does it take so long to plan a Muggle wedding?” to which Hermione answered uncertainly, “Well, it takes a really long time to obtain all the decorations and get a place to hold the ceremony.” and another question, “What’s the purpose of having one frilly garter up the bride’s leg?” which Hermione was unable to answer clearly.

“Well, maybe my wedding will be easier and faster to do if we use magic to get some of these things,” said Ginny.

“Yes, probably,” agreed Hermione. “But promise me you won’t conjure your dress, I’d like to help you look for it.”

Ginny smiled and nodded. The two of them then turned back to shuffling through the wedding books. As they read on, Hermione found it increasingly difficult to keep her attention on the books but instead kept turning it to Harry and Ron as they played Quidditch. She had one hand under her chin as she watched them. Then a small white envelope appeared before her with a loud pop. She let out a gasp and jumped away from it as though she were receiving a Howler. Ginny stared at Hermione and then clapped her hands over her mouth as she fought to keep from laughing. Hermione frowned at her and then took her wand out.

“Ignorare,” she said hastily, jabbing her wand at the envelope.

She sighed and then returned to sit next to Ginny. Ginny continued to stare at the Apparating letter with interest and watched as it blinked with the words: Vocal message from Seamus Finnegan. After a few moments it changed to: 1 Missed Message. At that the Apparating message stopped floating and fluttered to the tabletop.

“Why is Seamus Finnegan sending you Apparating messages?” said Ginny, still fighting back laughter. “More importantly, why are you avoiding them?”
“I---I,” stammered Hermione, “I haven’t been out with him for months, you’d think he’d get the picture by now.”

Hermione placed a hand to her right temple and shook her head in exasperation. Ginny patted her gently on the shoulder, still holding an amused smile on her lips. Hermione smiled back and looked at the continuing Quidditch game, her eyes darted from Harry to Ron and she felt something tie itself in her stomach as she did so.

“Hermione,” said Ginny, also watching the game, “is it possible that you’re still in love with both of your ex-boyfriends?”

“What?” gasped Hermione. “I---I’m not still in love with my ex-boyfriends, I’m---I’m over them. I’m over... I’m over…both of them.”

“Whatever you say,” said Ginny and then focused her attention back to the game.

Hermione sat back in thought, clasping her hands together while she continued to watch Harry and Ron laughing and giving each other high fives throughout the game. Confusion filled her head like water flooding into a dam.

I can’t possibly still be in love with both Harry and Ron. Can I? She thought to herself. No, that can’t be possible. I know it’s not.

Hermione attempted to free herself from the thought and tried to go back to discussing wedding plans with Ginny. Yet when she tried to grab Ginny’s attention again, she gave out a little grunt followed by several more as she became more engrossed in the game. Hermione gave up with a little laugh and finished watching the game with her.

The five men had been playing for a good two hours before they decided to stop. Quickly, they lowered themselves to the ground and dismounted their brooms. Hermione noticed Ron pushing his hair back trying to make it look neat while Harry chose to keep it wind blown and messy, knowing that even if he tried to flatten it, it would still look as dishevelled as ever. They all marched back into the house, Draco putting away the brooms with Ginny and Fred and George heading upstairs to take a nap. Harry, Ron, and Hermione stayed in the kitchen sitting together at the table.

“You two never tire of that game,” said Hermione with a smile.

“That’s right,” Ron confirmed.

“And we’re still as good as we used to be!” said Harry with a grin.

“You think so?” Hermione questioned with her eyes squinted in pessimism. “From where I was sitting, it seemed that age is starting to catch up with you.”

Harry’s eyes widened in shock while Ron rose up form his chair grabbing a jug of juice on the counter, threatening to dump it on her head. Harry gave Ron a quick wink and Ron grinned back. Quicker than sparks coming from wands, Harry grabbed Hermione, locking his arms around her while Ron hovered over her holding the jug only inches above her head.

“What did you say again Hermione?” said Harry, laughing as she squirmed to get free of his hold.

“Ok, ok, stop. Stop!” she squealed with a hint of laughter. “Sorry---sorry!”
Harry set her down and Ron returned the juice to the counter. However, they were mistaken in thinking they’d escape Hermione’s glare. They stared at her for a while in silence until they saw a smile beginning to crack the straight shape on her lips.

Just as Harry, Ron, and Hermione burst out in laughter, Draco and Ginny came downstairs. They shared a bewildered look and then sat at the table with them. Ginny glanced at Hermione, giving her a knowing look, tilting her head subtly in Harry and Ron’s direction. Hermione looked back at her, tightening her lips again and then turned away for a moment, feeling her heart begin to pound again.

Her heart began to calm when Mr. and Mrs. Weasley shuffled into the

kitchen. Mrs. Weasley beamed, her smile making her cheeks more rosy than they already were. She had her hands on the back of Ginny’s chair.

“So what are your plans this evening?” asked Mrs. Weasley, looking around the table.

“Mum,” Draco said, looking up at Mrs. Weasley, “you don’t mind if I borrow everyone for a little while. I’d like to treat them to dinner at my home.”

Ginny turned to her future-husband and then to her mother, her eyes twinkling hopefully.

“Oh, of course I don’t mind, dear,” said Mrs. Weasley, gently gripping Draco at his shoulders.

“Thanks, Mum,” said Draco, pushing up his sleeve to look at his watch. “Maybe I should just go now so I can get the place tidy and to prepare dinner.”

Ginny’s eyes widened and she looked at Draco in disbelief, “You’re going to prepare dinner?”

“Well, yeah,” replied Draco with a firm nod. “Why?”

Ginny smiled at everyone and placed a consoling hand on Draco’s arm. She looked at him closely, her lips twitching into a small frown and then opened she her mouth to speak again, “It’s just, Draco, are you sure that you can actually prepare dinner?”

Draco’s jaw dropped a little and he turned to Ginny who only smiled weakly while giving him a small shrug. She bit her lip apprehensively, the more Draco stared at her.

“Well, if you don’t think I can do it,” began Draco, “why don’t you come over and help me out.”

“You mean do it for you?” said Ginny in an earnest voice.

Laughter travelled around the room and Ginny turned to her parents.

“Clearly, he needs me, Mum,” Ginny said simply.

“I understand, dear,” said Mrs. Weasley, her eyes shifting to her husband. “I understand, completely.”
Ginny and Draco laughed as they got up from the table. Mr. Weasley was looking at his wife with a surprised expression that resembled Draco’s when Ginny implied that he couldn’t cook. But it quickly warmed and he beamed at his wife, squeezing her hand in his.

“I just don’t work without you, Molly,” Mr. Weasley said in a strong and kind voice that was enough to bring tears to his wife’s eyes.

Draco and Ginny turned to Harry.
“Coming along, Potter?” asked Draco and then he gestured towards Ron and Hermione, “Or would you rather stay here with Ron and Hermione for a little while.”

Harry thought for a moment and pressed his hand to the chest of his shirt. It was damp with perspiration and he scrunched his nose with slight displeasure.

“I think I’ll come along,” replied Harry, frowning, “I’m a little sweaty from playing Quidditch out in the sun today; I can get washed up at your house.”

“All right then,” said Draco. “We better go now, though.”

Ginny and Harry nodded. The youngest Weasley child smiled and kissed both of her parents on the cheek.

“Be home a little late tonight,” said Ginny. “Don’t worry though.”
Mr. and Mrs. Weasley nodded then turned to Draco and Harry. Mr. Weasley shook Draco’s and Harry’s hands firmly while Mrs. Weasley place her hands on their faces and kissed both of them on the cheek. Harry turned to Ron and Hermione with a sideways grin.

“I’ll see you in a little while, then, mate,” said Harry, slapping Ron on the back. “Oh and bring your Wizard Chess pieces. I want a match!”

“You’re a glutton for punishment, mate,” gloated Ron, quite aware that he was far superior to Harry at Wizard’s Chess.

“I’ll see you later too, ‘Mione,” said Harry, kissing her on the cheek and wrapping her in a hug. “I guess just bring yourself...oh...and don’t forget to bring Ron.”

“Right, easy enough,” answered Hermione.

Draco, Ginny and Harry then stood together side by side ready to leave. Ginny and Draco left at the same time, setting off two loud simultaneous pops as they Disapparated. Harry, on the other hand, waited a moment and waved, turning his eyes to Ron and Hermione. They were standing there, close together, and as he Disapparated he felt that the sigh he gave off was much louder than the pop that everyone else heard.

Chapter 4: Dinner at Draco’s

Harry, Ginny, and Draco arrived quickly in the dim foyer of Draco Malfoy’s house. Harry stared around at it. It could barely be called modest with its winding staircase and shining decor. One refreshing thing about it to Harry was that it was all brand new, which he knew was a large step for Draco since his family was one of the oldest wizarding families in the magical world. When Harry arrived at the house the first time, he remembered Draco muttering something about how he wanted to buy something of his own rather than have it handed to him by his father through inheritance. And despite the fact that he was not as rich as he was under his family name, he had done well enough for himself to afford a luxurious home, for the most part.

“Have you finished paying off the house yet, Draco?” Ginny asked.

“Erm---not quite yet,” said Draco, heading towards the kitchen, illuminating every room in the house with the Lumos incantation.

“Oh,” said Ginny firmly, “well, then I’ll just help you pay for it…just so you know.”
Harry laughed, remembering how strong spoken Ginny really was. Years of growing up with six older brothers had trained her to speak up and he could see that Draco would not be able to talk her out of it.

“I’m just going upstairs to wash up, then,” said Harry dashing upstairs.

Harry could hear Ginny and Draco participating in a couple’s row as he walked into the large bathroom next to the guest room where he was sleeping. He threw his sweaty clothes to one corner of the immense bathroom, reminding himself that he would pick it up as soon as he was done taking a shower. Everything in the bathroom was crisp, shiny, white and clean as though it had never been used, or if it had, it was only used only two or three times before.

Harry felt as though he could have fallen asleep in the shower, but decided that it wouldn’t be a very good idea to do so. He didn’t fancy the idea of waking up with a bump on his head where he had fallen after dozing off in the bath. The only way he knew he could fight off the sleep creeping in his eyes was to take a very fast shower, shooting himself with icy cold water at the beginning of it and at the end.

A shiver ran down his entire body as he did just that. When he was done, he grabbed a towel from the closet in the bathroom and he wrapped it around his waist. As he walked out of the bathroom and towards the guest room he could hear the amusing sound of a frustrated and increasingly impatient Ginny trying to teach Draco how to cook. (“Draco, adding white wine to everything does not mean that it’s going to taste good!”)

Harry first went for his duffle bag as he entered the guest room, grabbing boxers and a pair of slacks to wear. He put them on quickly under the towel and then threw the towel on the bed. He sat at the edge of the bed, grabbing the towel again and ruffled his wet, black hair. At the corner of his eye he spotted golden light twinkles peeking from his duffle bag. He stuck his hand in the bag, pulling out the same rectangular-shaped, blue children’s book he had bought from Mrs. Grendon only two weeks before. The stars on the cover of the book dance around in circles, illuminating soft patterns on his face and around the room. A smile curled the corners of his lips as he opened the book, reading it silently to himself. In his head, he could hear the part of his brain that sounded like Hermione speaking the words on each page. Reading the pages, he felt his heart begin to settle, feeling as though it was taking him to an intangible place that felt like home. He set it beside him after he finished reading and then spread himself out on the large bed. His hands rested behind his head and he could still feel the wetness of his hair. His eyes began feeling itchy, dry and heavy with sleep as he looked at the book beside him.

Should I give it to Hermione tonight? Harry thought to himself.

But before he could answer his own question, the invisible cloud of sleep settled over his head and his eyes and he closed them till he drifted into a dreamless sleep.

“Harry, Harry what are you doing in there?” a voice called.

It sounded like Mrs. Weasley, but younger and just a little less nagging.

“Harry, wake up! Dinner’s almost done and Ron and Hermione just arrived.”
Harry rolled over in the bed, glancing over at the book again and without a thought he grabbed it and set it back into his duffle bag. He rubbed his eyes groggily and then grabbed his glasses from the bedside table.

“Harry, are you awake?” said the voice that he now realized belonged to Ginny and not Mrs. Weasley.

“Yeah, yeah,” said Harry, grabbing a shirt from this bag. “Just give me a second, I just woke up.”

As he pulled over a black v-neck, long-sleeved shirt over his head he glanced at the small clock also on the bedside table. It’s small golden hands pointed to the 12 and 7. His green eyes widened. He had only just gotten to Draco’s house at 4 and he had taken a shower immediately. Harry realized that he had slept for nearly three hours and then opened the door when he had gotten his shirt on properly.

“It’s about time!” greeted Ginny with a low chuckle and started downstairs.

“Sorry,” apologized Harry. “I suppose I was a lot more tired than I thought.”

“No problem,” said Ginny said with a shrug.

“So, should I be worried about this dinner?” asked Harry. “Is Malfoy really trying to poison us?”

“He did surprisingly all right,” informed Ginny. “But I still believe it would have been a disaster if I hadn’t helped him.”

Harry laughed and sauntered behind Ginny into the kitchen. Ron and Hermione were in the kitchen in the middle of trying biscuits that Draco had cooked just as he was heading downstairs. Harry saw their faces pause as though firecrackers were about to go off and they were waiting for it. Ron and Hermione nodded to him though they did not talk because of the food in their mouth. Draco and Ginny were waiting intently for their opinion when Harry saw Ron’s eyes widen as he chewed.

“Roh margash!” Ron exclaimed unintelligibly, biscuit flaking out of the corners of his mouth. “Sheez war gowd!”

Harry could tell by the slight smile on his lips and more by the way he was still stuffing the biscuit in his mouth that he approved. Hermione laughed with her mouth closed and nodded in agreement. When she was done chewing she turned to Draco.

“Nice job!” she said and then frowned at Ron who still had crumbs on the corner of his mouth and a little at the front of his shirt. “Goodness, look at you!”

“Wha--?” said Ron.

“You still eat like your 11,” said Hermione, brushing away some of the crumbs from the front of Ron’s shirt.

Oddly, by this very gesture, Harry suddenly remembered the question he asked himself before he drifted to sleep. Should I give the book to Hermione tonight? He was still watching Hermione brush the crumbs off Ron’s shirt.

No, you idiot. Harry thought. Look at the two of them, they’ll probably get back together. They’re perfect together. Look.

Harry looked at them again, hopelessly and hopefully at the same time. And when he saw Hermione look his way, he felt a jolt as though she was sticking a hot piece of melting metal in his heart.

“Hello there, Harry,” said Hermione, brushing away some bangs of his that were hanging too far over his eyes. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” said Harry, feeling then that he had answered too quickly. “I think I’m still trying to wake up.”

“My cooking’ll wake you up, then, Potter,” Draco said with a grin.

“Yes and hopefully in a good way,” added Ginny from the corner of her mouth.

They shared a laugh and then entered the large dinning room. The candle chandelier floated high over the table illuminating the dishes Ginny and Draco had prepared. At the very centre of the table, there was a large, peppered roast already cut into perfect slices, it’s juices flooding the silver platter it rested on and at the very corner were a few leaves of parsley for garnish. To the right of the roast was a porcelain bowl filled with round, seasoned, roasted, red potatoes. To it’s left was a dish full of turnip greens with ham. And, of course, on another silver platter were the golden-brown biscuits that Ron and Hermione had sampled earlier.

Harry pulled off his glasses and wiped them at the bottom of his shirt. When he put them back on his eyes widened in disbelief. Everything actually looked good, delicious even. His eyes travelled over the table again and then set themselves on the succulent looking chocolate cake at the far end of the table, separated from the main dishes because it was being saved for last.

All of them took their places at the table, all of their eyes wide and all their appetites eager to try all the food. Draco smiled at Ginny and waved his hands telling everyone to start eating. They wasted no time in obliging him, all of them grabbing serving forks and spoons, filling their white plates with food.

Harry cut into a piece of the roast on his plate and then with his fork put it in his mouth. The flavor of it coursed to every single taste bud he had and he couldn’t help but be satisfied. His reaction for the potatoes and the greens were the same and he turned to Draco with a thumbs up.

“This is great, Malfoy!” exclaimed Harry. “Who knew you could cook?”

“Well,” said Draco, his voice trailing off, “I honestly can’t take all the credit. Truthfully, it would have been rubbish if it hadn’t been for Virginia.”

Ginny rolled her eyes momentarily and then shook her head.

“No, no Draco,” said Ginny, “I underestimated you, a little, you know a few small things. But I can’t deny that you really did need my help.”

The laughter rose around the table again.

“I can’t believe you’re marrying my sister,” said Ron with a laugh and wink in Ginny’s direction. “You see what I’ve had to go through for the past 25 years?”

Ginny frowned at Ron, kicking him in the shin under the table, his amused expression washing away. Draco grinned at Ron and then shrugged. He turned to his plate and went back to eating his food. The clamor of silverware nor the food stuffed in their mouths stopped them from carrying on conversations throughout dinner.

“So, have you seen anyone from our year lately?” Draco asked to Harry, Ron and Hermione.

Ginny, Harry and Ron turned to Hermione who paused in surprise of why everyone was looking at her.

“You mean,” Ginny began coyly in Hermione’s direction, “besides Seamus Finnegan?”

Hermione let out a groan of frustration while everyone took joy in Ginny’s comment and began laughing.

“Are you dating him still then?” Draco asked. “Or are you seeing someone new?”

Harry felt his muscles tighten at the at the question and when he glanced over at Ron. He was almost positive that he was doing the same. He watched her as she opened her mouth to speak yet again.

“Of course, she’s not seeing him or anyone else,” said Ginny matter-of-factly. “Hermione’s married to her job, right Hermione?”

Hermione nodded her cheeks revealing hints of blushing, “Right, that’s right, I’m not dating anyone.”

Harry could feel himself breath again while he kept his eyes on his plate. It had remnants of his dinner still left on it. He felt a pair of eyes looking at him and he looked up from his plate to see who it was. But it was too late, whoever he had felt looking at him had looked away. Ginny and Draco were looking around the table and he was disappointed to see that Ron and Hermione seemed to be holding each other’s gaze.

“Ginny,” said Ron, turning to face his sister, “you never let anyone get a word in edge-wise.”

“Oh well, you know me,” Ginny said, “I’ve lots of things to say; one would think you’d be used to it after 25 years.”

“Touché little sister,” Ron raised his wine glass and tipped it towards Ginny.

“Have you seen anyone from school, Ginny?” asked Hermione, returning the conversation to where it began.

Ginny drummed her fingernails on the light blue tablecloth in thought.

“Hmm, well I saw Luna Lovegood at Hogsmeade a few weeks ago.” said Ginny in an expressionless voice. “We should go visit Hogsmeade by the way, tomorrow perhaps.”

Hermione nodded and listened as Ginny continued to speak.

“You know I think she was keen on you, Ron,” Ginny stated as though she were talking about a common subject.

But the subject couldn’t be more uncommon. Harry drew back in surprise, he could never tell in school that Luna was keen on Ron. She always seemed to lost in her own world that he never even thought she might actually like someone. He could tell by the wide-eyed, almost horrified expression, on Ron’s face that he was just as shocked, probably even more.

“Loony Lovegood, keen on me?” Ron said with raising his eyebrows skeptically but he let out a soft and flattered-sounding chuckle.

“Ron!” Hermione said in scathing tone “Why in the world do you still call her that?”

Ron ducked his head as though trying to avoid her glare. His face then softened when he looked at her with a shrug, “Sorry, Herm.”

Ginny took a sip of wine and then sat up, waving her free hand in Harry’s direction.

“Oh yes,” Ginny spoke after setting down her wine glass, “I ran into Cho Chang, too.”

Harry, who had been unusually quiet let out a choking cough. He took a sip of water and wiped some drops of it that had run down his chin after he drank. He could feel everyone’s eyes on him, especially Hermione’s who was staring back at him with a small smile.

“And she’s doing fine, then?” asked Harry, making sure he didn’t sound too interested.

“Oh, she’s the same as she was in Hogwarts,” said Ginny airily while Harry noticed that she had just rolled her eyes, “darting from man to man as usual. No offense, Harry, but I always thought of her as a bit of a tart.”

“Ginny!!!” Hermione exclaimed, her jaw falling open.

“What?” said Ginny with a shrug. “It’s true!”

Harry smiled and began to think on what Ginny had just said about Cho Chang. He felt something well up in his stomach and then let out a boisterous and infectious laugh. Indeed, everyone had joined in, except for Hermione, who was appalled that all of them were laughing at Ginny’s snappy insult. Harry was hunched over the table, taking deep breaths in between laughs and then he turned his eyes to the still straight-faced Hermione.

“’Mione---,” Harry paused for another laugh, “you know it’s true about Cho Chang.”

“But---but---you still went ahead and dated her,” Hermione stated in a firm voice as though the matter was settled. “You kissed her, even.”

“Yes, well,” said Harry, still sniggering, “teenagers do make mistakes.”

Ginny had laughed so hard that she was tearing up but she somehow managed to speak, “Oh, come on, Hermione! Don’t feel bad for her. If anything, you should be laughing the hardest of all of us. You were cleverer than her and she was just so jealous of you!”

Hermione stared back at Ginny and then tried hard to tighten her lips. However, Harry could see, without out mistake, that she was actually starting to laugh.

“She---she---couldn’t put a jinx on people like you could, ‘Mione!” Harry added.

“Yeah,” Ron agreed, who was also keeled over with laughter, “now that was bloody brilliant!”

It was now becoming too hard for Hermione control and then she opened her mouth and joined in the laughter.

After some more conversation and the decadent chocolate cake, Draco and Ginny cleared the table of the dirty dishes and allowed them to be cleaned by an enchantment Ginny placed on them. When they were done, Ginny joined Hermione in the sitting room while Draco joined Harry and Ron, who were playing each other in Wizard’s Chess.

An hour passed and Harry and Ron were on their second game. Harry groaned in frustration and concentration, while he pushed his hair back, revealing his lightning-shaped scar. Ron was also staring at the board, his brow furrowed in concentration. At both of their sides they had captured several of the each other’s chess pieces, which were now groaning and calling out words of encouragement to their respective owners. Neither, Harry or Ron looked up even when Ginny and Hermione sat together on the sofa next to them with a huge thud.

“Who’s winning?” whispered Ginny to Draco.

“It’s already the second game, Harry lost the first,” Draco informed, “but they’re about even right now, looks like.”

Harry stared at the board, wringing his hands together in concentration. His eyes were following every single move that Ron’s aged pieces made. Just as Ron’s knight moved, Harry’s queen looked up at him and gave him a wink of her stony eye. Harry’s eyes widened as did Ron’s when he commanded his queen to move forward. Then Ron let out a huge, long groan when Harry’s queen gave Ron’s night a little jab with her sword, causing him to stumble off his horse and in losing got up to shake his lance at Harry in protest.

“I won?” Harry said in shock. “I mean, checkmate?”

Ron, Draco, Ginny and Hermione stared at the board with gaping mouths. Harry, however, seemed to be the most surprised of all of them. His green eyes were still wide and staring fixedly at the board. He finally looked up at Ron, his mouth wide open.

“I won,” muttered Harry. “I can’t believe it.”

“Good game, mate,” Ron said, winking at Harry.

“It was luck, it had to be!” said Harry, dumbfounded.

“Well, then, if you think so,” added Ron with a wily smirk, “want another go?”

Harry grinned back at Ron and shook his head vehemently, “No, no I rather think I’d like to bask in this victory rather than play again and get my arse thoroughly kicked. As I’m sure would certainly happen if I did choose to play you again.”

Harry hopped from his seat and then sat on the other sofa next to Draco. Ron grinned at Harry and began to the set the chess pieces on the board again.

“So,” said Ron, rubbing his hands together, “who wants to challenge me next?”

Harry smiled, while Draco shook his head and Ginny and Hermione glanced at each other as if trying to figure out who wanted take Ron up on the challenge. Finally, Ginny got up with a sigh, straightening her skirt under her when she sat across her brother.

“I guess I’ll do it,” replied Ginny.

“Terrific,” Ron said happily. “There’s nothing like beating my little sister at chess.”

“Don’t get smug with me!” Ginny said with confidence, putting on a determined game face. “You may be surprised, perhaps I’ve learned a thing or two.”

“We’ll see,” Ron snorted in defiance.

“I have to watch this,” Hermione said with glee, leaning in closer to watch the siblings.

“Want to see how I win at this game, do you Herm?” said Ron, beaming at her.

Hermione glanced at Ginny who was rolling her eyes and then she looked back at Ron with a huge smile spreading across her face. Harry thought he could see a gleam in her eye, but he wasn’t quite sure. But he was sure that he hadn’t seen her smile like that in a long time. He shifted in his seat, as though his position on the sofa was not comfortable.

“I want to see you try to win,” Hermione said to Ron with a giggle.

Draco sat up as Ginny and Ron started their game, looking closer and giving Ginny an encouraging smile. She turned to him, patted him on the arm lightly and then a big, but also impish smile spread on her face. She leaned closer to him and looked at him in the eyes.

“Draco,” she whispered to him.

“Yes?” he replied.

“Can you please make us some tea?” she requested with a shining smile.

Draco stood up with a tight-lipped smirk and then kissed her atop her flaming red hair. He started off towards the kitchen when Harry rose up from his seat as well.

“I’ll help you, Malfoy,” offered Harry.

He followed Draco into the kitchen and began to help gather the tea cups and saucers. While Draco was grabbing the tea kettle from a cabinet under the kitchen counter, Harry grabbed the tea leaves and sifter from the pantry.

“I’m quite sure that I can make something as simple as tea on my own,” said Draco, placing the kettle on the stove. “You can go back out there and join everyone again.”

“I’m all right here, thanks,” said Harry with a quick voice.

“Are you?” said Draco, suspicion soaking his drawling voice. “You don’t want to sit out there with you friends right now, watch Weasley get beat again? You don’t even want to sit next to Granger? Or are you still sulking over the fact that you gave her up and that it’s come back to kick you in the arse?”

Harry glared back at Draco, feeling a slight twitch in his fingers a the mention of Hermione. He refrained from answering Draco’s question and busied himself with placing each tea cup on a saucer.

“So I’m wrong then?” asked Draco. “You really would rather be making five cups of tea?”

Harry grimaced, thinking that though Draco had changed much since Hogwarts he still had the ability to keep his voice condescending if he wanted to. It was even worse when what Draco was saying was true.

“No,” Harry frowned, “you’re not wrong. I’m just giving them some space.”

“What?” Draco said. “And why is that?”

Harry looked away, feeling a little guilty.

“Because I have to.”

“Hmm, that’s such a compelling argument,” Draco grunted his drawling voice dripping with sarcasm. He then added in a haughty tone, “Could it be possible, possible that you’re still in love with Granger?”

Harry felt his jaw tighten with indignation.

“Well, so what if I am?!” Harry sounded. “There’s nothing I can do about them now!”
“’Them’?” Draco frowned like something putrid was being waved in front of his face. “You mean---”
“Yeah, them,” Harry replied in tight and sardonic voice. “You know my best friends, Ron and Hermione?”

Harry and Draco had been talking in hushed voices and they both flinched a little when they heard loud hoots from Ron and giggles from Ginny and Hermione coming from the other room. Harry closed his eyes and took a slow, deep breath releasing it through his nose.

“You’ve seen the way the look at each other, haven’t you?” Harry paused gruffly. “Messing with their relationship again is the last thing I need to be doing.”

To Harry’s further consternation, Draco let out a low, guttural guffaw. The tight smirk on Draco’s thin lips, also did nothing more to settle his unease.

At the same time, the kettle whistled and then Draco took it off the stove, pouring the boiling hot water into each cup. Harry then took the tea sifter and sifted the flavor and color from the tea leaves into each cup. He then placed them on a silver try along with some sugar and honey.

“Potter, and here I am thinking you’ve actually got a brain,” Draco laughed, sounding too much like he did at Hogwarts for Harry’s liking. “I don’t know which way you’re looking, but Hermione’s not seeing Ron. I thought you’d realize that by now.”

Harry grumbled to himself and followed Draco back to the other room where Ron had his hands in his hair, staring wildly a the board. Ginny’s mouth was wide open with glee and Hermione had a hand cupped over her mouth, hiding hints of a mirthful smile.

Draco set the tray of tea at the empty space on the table, to the left of the chess board. His jaw dropped when he glanced at Ginny’s side of the board. There were already most of Ron’s pieces standing at her side, groaning just like Ron.

“Virginia!” Draco gasped.

“Ha ha!” Ginny exclaimed in triumph. “What was that you said about ‘beating your little sister at chess’?”

“Ron,” said Hermione, stifling giggles, “what’s---what’s---going---on---with---you?”
Ron groaned again and nodded his head toward a window revealing the dark night sky. He grumbled, “It must be the full moon.”

“Excuses,” Harry said, still able to laugh despite the serious discussion he had just had with Draco.

All of them grabbed a tea cup from the tray, drinking slowly. Harry, Hermione, and Draco watched Ron and Ginny as they finished their chess game as though a huge drama were unfolding. No sooner than they had began to sip their tea did Ginny jump up from her seat clapping both hands over her mouth, her brown eyes so wide that they threatened to pop out of their sockets.

“Aha!!!” Ginny yelped. “I WIN!!!”

“Rotten luck, Weasley,” Draco said with a grin.

Ron knocked over one of the few chess pieces he had still left on the board. It shook its fist and then made an obscene gesture at him. He then shook his head and then shrugged his shoulders.

“I---I guess I’ll let her gloat. I mean she’s never beaten me before,” Ron grumbled.

“Don’t be a spoiled loser, Ron,” said Hermione in a scolding voice.

“I’m not a spoiled loser,” Ron insisted, scowling in Ginny’s direction.

“Oh come on, Ron, indulge your little sister,” said Ginny. “You’re right, I never do beat you.”

Harry, after finishing his tea began helping Ron gather their respective chess pieces and put them away. Ginny was sitting next to Hermione, drinking her tea with a satisfied grin on her face. After she drank the last shallow drop at the bottom of the cup, she let out a yawn and leaned her head on Hermione’s shoulder. Hermione smiled and then glanced at her watch.

“Oh,” she said, “it’s nearly midnight.”

“Really?” said Ginny in a tired voice. “Maybe we should---”

Ginny let out another long yawn.

“Maybe we should go home,” she finished.

“I’d say so, look at you,” Hermione said, glancing over at Ginny, whose head was still resting on her shoulder. “You look like you’re going to fall asleep right this instant.”

“Right,” Ginny said, giving Hermione a lazy nod.

Hermione giggled and stood up, taking Ginny with her. She then turned and handed Ginny to Draco who brushed a some strands of her hair from her face that had fallen over it when she leaned on Hermione’s shoulder. Then, Hermione tapped Ron on the shoulder gesturing to him that they had to leave.

Ron and Harry both looked up as she did so. Harry then jumped up to his feet, rubbing his hands on his wrinkled khaki slacks. He then went with Draco to accompany Hermione, Ron and Ginny to the door.

“Glad you came,” said Draco, shaking Ron’s hand and giving Hermione a quick hug. “Hope I entertained all right.”

“Eh, it was OK,” said Ron with a grin. “But that’s why you’re marrying my sister.”

Harry watched as Draco laughed and then as he grabbed Ginny giving her a quick kiss. Ron turned away and faced Harry, slapping him on the back.

“Well, I’ll see you mate,” said Ron. “And, good game.”

“Yes, I know,” Harry laughed, gripping Ron’s arm in a masculine expression of friendship. “You do realize I’ll be rubbing it in for weeks to come.”

“S’allright,” said Ron with a shrug. “Just ready yourself up for when I beat you next time.”

Harry laughed and then looked to Hermione as she came walking over. Her arms were crossed over herself and her hands were tucked in her sleeves. She looked at Ron who was gesturing and walking towards where his sister and Draco stood a few feet away. She nodded and then turned to Harry with a soft smile.

“You were here all night, but I feel like I didn’t get to talk to you once,” Hermione said, rubbing her arms. “It’s rather like that at work, too, isn’t it?”

“Well you know I was preoccupied with eating, the chess game, tea-making,” said Harry in a low voice.

“Right,” Hermione nodded and then opened her arms to give him a hug.

He obliged wrapping his arms around her tightly. He could feel the softness of her hair on the side of his face and just then a loud beeping noise travelled to his ears. He let go of her and then looked at his watch.

“It’s midnight,” he said softly. “September 19, technically.”

“So it would seem,” agreed Hermione.

A smile spread on Harry’s face as he squeezed her shoulder.

“Happy Birthday, ‘Mione,” he whispered as she looked at him, her brown eyes shining.

“Thank you,” said Hermione.

“Well you know---” Harry started, but was taken aback when Hermione interrupted him.

“Thank you for saying it first,” said Hermione in a gentle and earnest voice.

Harry stared back, unable to respond. He found himself only able to nod his head. He wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms, hold her and kiss her. But he knew he couldn’t. He knew he mustn’t.

It was then that Ron, Ginny and Draco joined them again. Harry looked back at Ron attempting to hide the guilty feeling that had washed over him when he thought Ron may have noticed him staring in desperate longing at Hermione. A gulp travelled through his tight throat and then he watched as Hermione, Ron, and Ginny stood together.

Ginny blew a kiss to Draco, while Hermione waved at them. Ron gave a nod to both of the men and then before they Disapparated, his eyes turned to Harry and then to Hermione while he bit his lip in deep thought.

Author’s Note: Just a warning, this chapter may begin in such a way that may not please many H/Hr’s…I still, very much sail the HMS Pumpkin Pie. Even though it may not seem like they’re going to get together yet…just remember this IS primarily a Harry and Hermione fanfic. That being said, I hope you enjoy chapter 5! J

Chapter 5: Moonlight and Magic

Ron, Hermione and Ginny Apparated just outside the front door of the Weasley house so they wouldn’t wake anyone with the loud pop that accompanied Apparition. The three of them tip-toed upstairs, lighting their way only with the tip of their wands. Ron scurried to his room while Ginny and Hermione turned the other way to Ginny’s room.

He sat down on the orange quilt on top of his bed. He took off his socks first and then the rest of his clothes replacing them with maroon pajamas that his mother had recently made for him. He ruffled his hair glancing around the room, unable to fall asleep on his own old bed. The intense orange of the room and the Quidditch players zipping around his old Chudley Cannons poster only intensified his restlessness. He stood up with a jolt and marched to his door.

Maybe if I just go downstairs and grab a drink of water from the kitchen, I’ll be able to sleep. He thought to himself.

He nearly jumped back when he opened the door to find Hermione waiting on the other side her right hand raised and ready to knock on the door. She was greeting him with a bright smile, looking around at his room behind him. He stood with his hand still tight around the doorknob as though he had just been petrified.

“Hi,” she said.

“Erm---hi,” he sputtered.

He paused and looked back at her with his mouth ajar like a puppet whose mouth was still hanging open because its ventriloquist forgot to close it. Hermione raised her eyebrows and nodded her head.

“Oh,” said Ron, realizing how much more stupid he looked with his mouth gaping open. “Come in.”

His voice squeaked on the last syllable and it sounded more like he was asking a question than making a request. To his relief, Hermione seemed to take no notice and walked past him into his violently orange bedroom.

“It’s just like it was,” said Hermione exploring the room with her eyes, “when we were children.”

“Yeah, still orange,” said Ron, gesturing for Hermione to take a seat in the chair by his desk.

Hermione sat down tugging the bottom of her pink dressing gown more securely over her legs. Ron noticed her looking around the room again, her eyes twinkling.

“It’s the same, but smaller,” said Hermione.

“Because we’re big now.”

Hermione eyed him with a sideways grin.

“I thought you and Harry said you two were going to be children forever.”

“Well, yeah,” said Ron, standing up patting his head. “I just meant bigger as in height.”

Hermione nodded and then looked up and down at Ron as though trying to see just how tall he was. He felt himself blushing as she looked at him and then turned away hoping that she hadn’t noticed. To his alarm, Hermione got up and began walking towards him but then relaxed with great relief when she stopped to look up at his Chudley Cannons poster.

“I can’t believe you still have this poster,” said Hermione, taking her eyes off the poster and then setting them on him. “Do you think you would have played for them if you had the chance, you were quite a good keeper.”

“Are you sure you’re talking to the right person, Herm?” Ron asked in confusion. “I mean, Harry’s the one who was a star player.”

He noticed as Hermione’s facial expression changed just before she opened her mouth to answer him.

“He was a different player though,” said Hermione in a gentle voice. “It was just a question anyway.”

“I thought about it a little,” Ron told her and then gave her a beaming smile. “But I really like it at Gringotts.”

Hermione smiled back at him and then took a seat next to him on his bed. He shifted, feeling something warm spread through his veins. All his nerves and all his unease began to inch away when she sat across him. A funny thought hovered over his head when he realized that he felt exactly like he did when he was just a teenager. The feeling was like water receding back into the ocean after it washed across the shore. It felt like he and Hermione were still together. He couldn’t help but stare at her and feel the most comfortable he had felt in a long time.

“You’ve changed Ron,” said Hermione, in a proud turn of voice. “You’ve really grown up.”

“Yeah, I---I guess,” said Ron, encouraging himself to move closer to her, so close that he could see every faint freckle on her face, “but you know, it’s like I said, some thing’s stay the same.”

He paused for a moment looking at her face again and giving her time to pull away. She didn’t seem to be and so he moved forward, the details of her face now a little blurred because he was too close and then he could see nothing after he closed his eyes. All he needed and all he felt was his lips touching hers.

It had only been a few seconds when she pulled away. Ron looked back at her trying to find her feelings in her eyes that had turned wide and round. Then he wondered if he should have done it.

“Oh, ok…look Ron, I---,” Hermione began in a rational sounding voice as though she were about to explain a complicated theory.

But she was interrupted and they moved away from each other when a loud knock came to the door. Ron straightened up and walked to the door. As he did Hermione returned to her seat at his desk chair. When he opened the door, a drowsy Ginny stood there, her long flaming red hair mussed all over. She lifted her hand in gesture towards Hermione.

“Woke up and you weren’t in room,” muttered Ginny in a sleepy voice. “We get up early, go to Hogsmeade tomorrow.”

Her sentences were reduced to fragments as she rubbed her eyes, threatening to fall asleep at Ron’s doorway. Hermione went to her, locking her arms with her in a sister-like manner. Ron twitched his lips into a goofy smile.

“Sorry,” said Hermione in almost a whisper.

“S’allright,” said Ron, glancing at his sister with an amused grin. “Just get her back to bed again.”

Hermione nodded while Ginny gave him a lousy wave.

“Erm--well, goodnight Ron,” said Hermione. “See you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, Herm,” he said, closing the door once the two made it to Ginny’s room.

After turning down all the lights in his room he tucked himself into bed. While he lay there, his hands resting underneath his head, he looked up at the ceiling. Through the grey of all his thoughts he kept pondering what he had just done. He took one of his hands from under his head and touched his lips with side one of his fingers. He wondered why he had done it and what Hermione thought about it. But it all seemed too complicated to worry about now, so he closed his eyes, drifting to sleep in his old bedroom.

* * *

Ron woke up to a constant wrapping sound coming from the other side of his door. He threw off his covers with a loud grown, wondering who could be waking him up at seven in the morning on one of his vacation days. He let out a submissive groan when he realized that it could only be his mother. It came as a jumping surprise to him when he saw his sister standing there very much awake, her eyes so bright that he felt he needed blinders immediately.

“Wha?” he said, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“What do you mean, ‘wha’?” said Ginny in a very good impression of himself. “We’re going to Hogsmeade today; I know I told you last night.”
“Oh yeah,” Ron became more awake at the mention of this and turned back to his room.

“Be ready when I get back!” said Ginny in a jubilant voice.

Ron nodded and then closed the door again. He fumbled through his dresser drawers for something to wear. His eyes met several maroon jumpers from years past and he gave a grimace upon looking at them. He shuffled further through his drawers until he found a royal blue jumper (one that was not given to him by his mother at Christmas) and a pair of deep khaki trousers. He undressed out of his pajamas and put a white t-shirt on before pulling his sweater over his head. He then pulled up his trousers and finished dressing with a pair of medium brown socks and dark brown shoes. The only thing left now was to comb his hair which was still standing every which way. Before he could comb it down, the same wrapping that woke him came to his door again. Before he could greet Ginny, she bolted past him into his room, closing the door behind her in a mad huff.

“Bloody hell, Ginny!” Ron exclaimed with a scowl on his face. “What’s gotten into you?”

Ginny glared at him with eyes of suspicion and sat down at his chair never taking her brown eyes off him.

“Did you kiss Hermione last night?”
To Ron it sounded like an accusation of wrong-doing. Before he could even attempt to answer, Ginny rounded on him again.

“You did, I know you did!” Ginny squeaked and then shook her head, giving him a pitying expression. “Oh, Ron!”

Ron flopped his arms in exasperation and looked at his sister as if she was mad, “Then why did you ask me if you already know?”

Ginny looked back at him with a consternated drop of her jaw.

“I---I because I wanted to know about it,” stammered Ginny. “You’re my brother after all.”
Ron sighed and walked back to his sister, a reassuring arm on her shoulder. When she looked up at him he was surprised to see just how much worry lurked in her eyes.

“Do you still love her?” Ginny asked.

“She’s my---” Ron began, “I’ll always love her, you know that.”
“I mean, are you still in love with her?” Ginny said more specifically.

“Ginny,” said Ron in exasperation, “don’t worry about me.”

Ginny strained her neck and began wringing her hands together.

“I’m....I’m not just worried about you,” stated Ginny. “I’m worried about her and I, I don’t think you should…I...”

Ron grinned at his sister, his heart swelling with pride at his sister’s concern.

“It’s just, Ron, I want you, both of you, to be sure.”
“It’s OK,” he assured her. “I’m sure we’ll both be fine.

Ron patted his sister on the back and she stood up again, “Well, we should go then.”

Ron nodded, but then stopped because Ginny was looking at his head with a reproving frown.

“Oh and comb your hair, Ron,” said Ginny and then she gave him a shy smile, “you never know who you might see there.”
Ron grumbled and patted his hair. Before meeting Ginny and Hermione downstairs, he took a comb from his desk drawer and looked in the mirror on the door of his cabinet as he combed his hair down. He ran downstairs after, Ginny was munching on one of their mother’s biscuits and then his eyes turned to Hermione. He gasped and became dumbfounded.

Hermione sat there wearing some of the nicest Muggle clothes he had ever seen. She was wearing a periwinkle blue dress and a cardigan blue sweater. The dress looked like it came right to her knee and the bottom of it was dressed with flowers that went all around it, complemented by white shoes.

“I’ve never seen clothes like that before,” muttered Ron and then he tightened his lips in embarrassment because he couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“Oh yes,” said Hermione, standing up with a smile. “I thought I’d dress up nice, you know for---”

Ron’s eyes widened at he felt like taking his fist and ramming it into his head. He had known about it for weeks, but it was only then that he really realized at that very moment that it was Hermione’s Birthday.

“Yes, for you birthday!!” he said fast. “Happy Birthday, Herm.”

“Thanks, Ron,” she said beaming at him and then glancing at her watch. “Ginny, we should go.”

Ginny and Ron gave their mother a quick kiss goodbye and Hermione held her hands out to give Mrs. Weasley a hug. The three of them waved goodbye just before Disapparating to the village of Hogsmeade. They Apparated under a large oak tree. A cold wind was blowing and Hermione began rubbing her arms while she looked at Ron and Ginny who were covered in warm cloaks.

“I knew I should’ve have brought my cloak,” said Hermione with a frown.

“No, problem!” Ginny said, pulling out her want and making a quick jabbing motion. “Accio, Hermione’s cloak.”
A crisp greyish-blue cloak came speeding into Hermione’s hands and she unfolded it and wrapped it around her.

After she pulled on her cloak, the three of them began to survey the village, scanning it for Harry and Draco. Ron looked all around and finally spotted them under the eaves of Honeydukes Candy Shoppe.

“Oi, you there!” Ron called out to the two men.

Harry and Draco had heard and came jogging over to them. Ron waved happily, until Hermione hit him on the arm. He remembered that Hermione never liked him saying “Oi.” He grimaced and then shrugged at her, thinking that old habits were hard to break.

Ron then forgot about the smarting slap Hermione had given his arm. Harry and Draco were now standing before them. While Ginny kissed Draco in greeting, Ron looked on at Harry in a mixture of surprise and suspicion. Harry was dressed nicely, wearing a grey turtleneck and a pair of dressy corduroy trousers. Ron rubbed his chin, unable to push out the thought that Harry was trying to impress someone.

Ron’s eyes immediately moved to Hermione, who he knew would usually be rushing at Harry in a tackling hug. However, she wasn’t doing so. He watched her inch forward as though she was about to do it, but as though something were holding her feet back, she merely held out her hand which Harry took in a hearty handshake.

Ron furrowed his brow, bemused by the gesture. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets and began to ponder if Hermione was being so formal because he had kissed her or because of Harry. A wave a confusion was creeping against him and his heart and head fought to figure out if he was jealous or not. And on top of all that, he even felt guilty. He squeezed his eyes shut for a little, hoping that it would drive the guilty thoughts out of his head.

“Wow,” Harry began to everyone but Draco. “I haven’t seen you in about--” he looked at his watch and then continued, “---nine hours.”

Ron saw Harry turn to Hermione again, smiling at her.

“Erm---Happy Birthday,” said Harry as he ruffled the back of his already messy hair. “I haven’t---I forgot your present; I’ll get it to you later.”

“Thanks Harry,” Hermione’s lips curled into a smile. “It’s all right about the present.”

“Yes,” Ginny interrupted, “well, Hermione, where shall we go first?”

Ginny and Hermione locked arms and started off with Ron, Harry and Draco rounding up behind them. Ron and the other two marvelled about how exuberant Ginny and Hermione were. They were walking so fast that it was almost a run. Ron shared a knowing look with Harry and they both shrugged their shoulders, but it was Draco who spoke their thoughts.

“Women, eh?” said Draco, ensuing a chuckle from Ron and Harry.

All three of them were forced to stop short when Ginny and Hermione stopped abruptly in front of them. The three men turned their heads to see what the two women were pointing to. Ron looked up along with Harry and Draco. They found that they were standing in front of a shoppe. Its sign, which was long and rectangular, was blue with bronze letters. It read: Moonlight and Magic and in smaller print under it: A store for all your Wizarding needs.

“I’ve never been to this store before,” voiced Hermione, looking up at the sign.

“Well neither have I,” Ginny concurred with haste. “It’s rather new isn’t it? Let’s go in, shall we?”

Everyone complied and as they stepped inside they were greeted by the oddest lighting that could be provided by a store. While it was bright and the stocked shelves and racks seemed to be easily visible with the naked eye, the walls surrounding them seemed to be bewitched to look like the night sky, like Hogwarts. It was a little different, however, because a different constellation appeared on each wall and on another wall there was a star-shower continuing indefinitely. The one marked feature that they all noticed was that the moon phase changed on each wall.

“Well, this is---interesting,” said Ron, not sure what to make of the decor.

They all looked around the store and found just about everything that a wizard or witch could want or need was in this store, just as the sign said. The store was rather large and so many things could be found at different corners. When they looked right they saw ingredients to many potions set high up on a shelf, to their left there were quality quills next to household cleaning items. To the north there were racks of quality wizard robes and to the south there were broomsticks on display, though they were mostly aimed toward practical family use unlike top of the line Quidditch brooms.

“They weren’t kidding,” remarked Draco. “This store really does have all your wizarding needs.”

“Whoever thought up this store must be a marketing genius,” said Ron, now looking at the grandiose shop in admiration.

“Yeah and whoever it is, he must be making a fortune,” said Harry.

Ron raised his eyebrows and nodded in firm agreement. Ginny and Hermione, however, were glaring at them.

“And how do you know that the owner is a man?” snapped Ginny who stood next to a nodding Hermione.

Ron stepped back with Harry and gawked at his sister. He gave Harry a little nudge whispering something about how she was becoming more and more like his mother everyday. He then turned to Draco who gave them a weak shrug and then ducked away not wanting to feel her wrath.

“Hey, where are you going?” Harry hissed after Draco.

“Erm---well, you see,” Draco replied still inching away and then added in a defeated and sullen sort of voice, “I’ve no say...she’s going to be my wife.”

And then Draco scampered on again. Ron and Harry were still backing away like two rats being cornered by two fierce cats. Ginny merely kept toward them with Hermione at her side like a second in a duel.

“Now why should the owner be a man, hmm?” she asked again.

Ron and Harry attempted to answer her but did so unsuccessfully. The only thing that seemed to issue from their mouths were strange, unintelligible grunts. Lucky for them, Ginny seemed to be satisfied with the amount of intimidation she had used and backed away.

And then at that exact moment, a familiar dreamy voice called out, “Hello, welcome to Moonlight and Magic, the store for all your wizarding needs!”

Everyone became silent, turning to see who the voice had come from. Ron’s eyes widened to the size of galleons and his jaw dropped in disbelief. A woman about Hermione’s height stood before them. She had dirty-blonde, waist length wavy hair, pale eyebrows and vivid blue eyes that were very wide and alert.

“Loony----aghhhh,” Ron grimaced and then keeled over to see Ginny’s foot stomped on top of his own.

“Hi Luna!” Ginny said in a bright voice.

“Ohh,” Luna said dreamily. “Hello Ginny.”

“Hello Luna,” greeted Hermione.

“Hiya,” said Harry with a wave.

“Hello there, Luna,” greeted Ron, rolling his pained foot around.

“Hello Ronald,” Luna said slowly, her voice no longer dreamy but soft until she turned to the others, “Hello Hermione, Harry---” Draco came around one of the racks, “---oh and Draco too.”

Draco waved and took his place by Ginny.

“So, Luna, “ Hermione began with interest, “you own this store?”

“Oh yes!” Luna said with pride.

While they discussed Luna’s store, Ron turned to Ginny with a cold glare. She only turned away from him with an innocent shrug and laughed under her breath. He had the sneaking suspicion that Ginny had lied about never being here before and that she knew very well that Luna Lovegood owned the store. He began to wonder why Ginny hadn’t told him so in the first place.

“It’s a very good store, though,” added Harry as though he needed to assure Luna that she was running a good business.

Everyone nodded in agreement except for Ron who was looking around at his surroundings again. With the assortment and variety of things she had stocked in the store, he couldn’t help but feel truly impressed. He hadn’t been able to say anything yet, when Hermione nudged him in the ribs.

“Oh, it’s, it’s...” he was almost cowering under Hermione’s scrutiny, but then relaxed adding in a genuine tone, “I think it’s bloody brilliant.”

Luna’s eyes grew brighter at this and she bowed her head down in a humble manner, while her cheeks flushed pink.

“Oh,yes, I know,” agreed Luna, in a slight stammer. “Just look at all my customers. Well, I better get back to work.”

Her sing-song voice had returned before she glided away. Ron watched her, puzzled, as she returned to the counter. When he looked down he saw Hermione giving him a smile. Having her look so closely at him made him all a fluster and his ears began to turn pink. He prayed that she hadn’t noticed how they were gradually becoming the color of his hair, but was almost sure that she did. Then in an odd gesture she patted him on the arm in an encouraging manner before walking off to browse the rest of the store.

Ron found himself doing the same, but also took the opportunity to search for his sister. He soon found her going through racks of robes with Draco at her side. To Ron, he looked rather exhausted as she continuously held up different colored robes to his chest to see which best suited him.

“Ginny,” Ron said, rounding on her and grabbing her arm. “You knew Loony Lovegood owns this place!”

“Ron, don’t call her that!” she snapped, then turned to Draco and handed him an armful of robes. “Why don’t you go into one of the dressing rooms and try these on darling.”

Draco nodded and gave Ron a look of defeat when he locked himself in one of the dressing rooms. While he was trying on clothes, Ginny rounded on Ron.

“And why do you call her ‘Loony’ still?” Ginny started again with a scowl. “Are you still 12 years old or something?”
“No!” Ron protested in an immature way that made him sound like was 12 years old again. “I mean, of course I’m not 12 anymore.”
“That’s good to know,” Ginny smirked.

At that moment Draco came out wearing one of the robes that Ginny handed to him. It was green and velvety with gold trimming at the hem and sleeves. Ginny frowned in disapproval and urged him back into the dressing room to try on another one of the robes.

“So why did you bring me here?” Ron questioned, waving his arms at his sides.

Ginny scoffed at him, “I didn’t bring you here, we came in here to shop and you followed. You don’t have to hang around if you don’t like it.”

Ron rolled his eyes and grumbled, “So why didn’t you tell me Loony Lovegood owns it?”
“That’s why, because you always make fun of her!” Ginny hissed.

“I would have made fun of her either way,” Ron grunted but quickly realized that his words were wrong and horrible to say.

“Why does it matter to you if I told you or not anyway?” Ginny added. “It’s not like you were one of those people at school who hid her things every year.”
Ron opened his mouth to say more but then clapped his hand over to shut it. Then he began to back away from Ginny in a very guilty manner. She could only look back at him with her mouth gaping in shock.

“You were!” Ginny gasped.

Draco unfortunately picked that moment to show her a red robe he was donning but then quickly locked himself in the dressing room again when he saw the anger boiling in Ginny’s face.

“I can’t believe you!” Ginny exclaimed. “You’re worse than Fred and George.”

“No, I’m not,” Ron muttered.

“Okay, no you’re not, but you still shouldn’t have taken her things and hid them,” Ginny scolded, sounding like their mother again.

“I only did it once---or twice,” Ron confessed. “And it was on a dare from Fred and George. I gave all her stuff back anyway!”

“That doesn’t make it any better!” Ginny said and then added with a lighter tone, “Well, at least she doesn’t know, right?”
Then, as if providence had been eavesdropping, Luna was standing around a corner near them. Ron felt like running, but found that his feet were planted on the floor by his own will and guilt. She had heard everything. While Ron stood there, dumbstruck, Luna merely nodded and then walked away with a tight, forced smile, her hands gripped together in front of her skirt.

Ron turned back to Ginny, feeling very embarrassed and ashamed. She wasn’t helping him either by the way she shook her head in a disapproving way.

“Ron, I can’t believe she actually fancied you,” said Ginny in a severe voice.

This only seemed to worsen the blow and he walked off mumbling, “I’ll just go and apologize then.”

He walked through some aisles toward the front of the store when he ran into Harry and Hermione looking at sets of luxury quills. He shivered at the thought of going through the whole story to explain it to his best friends. Any other time he would have been happy to, but he grew more fearful of it when he imagined Hermione’s response. He shifted his eyes around the store when both Harry and Hermione walked up to him.

“Hey, mate, they’ve got this big box full of Exploding Snaps and other stuff, you should really see,” said Harry, pointing his thumb towards another aisle. “Looks like they’ve improved them since we were kids.”

Ron wanted desperately to be amused and excited about that and he attempted a smile. But no matter how he tried, he couldn’t.

“Ron, what is it?” Hermione rang in.

“It’s---I---I was talking with Ginny,” Ron explained his words coming out much slower than he wanted. “I s’pose Luna heard---or---overheard---me telling Ginny how I...how I....”

“Yes?” Harry and Hermione said together.

“Well, it sort of came out that I…,” Ron hesitated, “I took Luna’s things and hid them a couple of times while were still at Hogwarts...as a joke, that’s all.”

“What?!” Hermione said in a raised voice.
Harry on the other hand was fighting hard not to laugh and it made Ron feel a little better.

“You did?” Harry said through tight lips, still holding back the urge to laugh. “I never knew that.”

Ron curled his lips up to start laughing but his and Harry’s attempts to do so were quickly quashed by Hermione.

“Don’t you encourage him, Harry!” Hermione said, glaring at both of them. “You know what you have to do, don’t you, Ron?”

“Er---forget this ever happened?” Ron turned to Harry with hope rising in his voice.

Harry started to laugh again but was stopped once more by Hermione’s sharp glare.

“Apologize to Luna, now,” Hermione said, her voice so firm that it sounded like an order.

Then a stubborn and rather brilliant (or so Ron thought) idea came to mind.

“Why should I?” Ron muttered. “That was so long ago, she should be over it by now.”

Ron saw Hermione roll her eyes and was surprised to see that Harry was no longer laughing, but staring at him in shock. He then turned his eyes to the counter where Luna stood. He caught her eyes for a fraction of a second and was not at all shocked when she looked away and continued helping customers.

“Oh, you have the emotional maturity of a rock cake, Ron!” Hermione snapped, but at the same time she had pulled his face gently to face her. “Go on then, Ron, apologize to her.”

He felt even more surprised when she gave him a quick peck on the cheek and then pushed him along towards the counter. Through the boundless amount of customers he found himself standing face-to-face with Luna Lovegood, who was still refusing to look him in the eye. Then, very stupidly, he began to gesture with his hands and began to open his mouth every few seconds. Each time his voice refused to come out.

“Are you trying to say something Ronald?” Luna finally spoke, her voice retaining its usual dreamy tone.

Through it, Ron could tell that she was putting forth a lot of effort to speak to him.

“Oh actually, yeah,” Ron said, relieved that she had spoken first and that he no longer looked like an idiot. “About what you overheard...”
“You mean the thing about how you would have made fun of me?” Luna said, her wistful voice edging, “Or the bit about how you took my things while were still in school together?”

“Erm---yes, I mean---erm---both,” Ron uttered, gulping something very tight and invisible down his throat. “I---I just wanted to say---erm---I’m sorry, really sorry about that.”

“Oh,” Luna replied with a simple nod.

“Erm---does that mean you accept my apology, then?” said Ron with hope.

Luna said nothing for a while, checking an urn and eye of newt from two customers, a silvery blonde middle-aged female and a pale-skinned, dark-haired, and weedy-looking younger woman whose violet eyes only showed for a moment under the heavy hood over her black cloak. Ron was soon becoming exasperated and leaned over the counter staring at Luna. It was only when the two women had left did she look up at him again. He saw that her blue eyes were no longer bright, wide or alert, rather they were now dark and full of disappointment.

“Excuse me for saying this,” Luna began in a low voice, “but I spent seven years at Hogwarts not really knowing who took my things; I got used to it and I didn’t care much anymore, basically because it always occurred. I always got everything back anyway.

“So, erm---well, now that I know that you, Ronald,” he watched closely at how her face seemed to strain and then fall in confusion when she said his name, “that you were one of those people....well, I hope you don’t mind when I say that I don’t care to accept your apology if that’s all right with you.”

Ron eyes turned round in disbelief and he was unable to speak. Before he could even gather whatever wits he had about him, before he could actually say something about it, she had turned away, carrying on with helping the rest of the customers around the store.

Ron returned to where Harry and Hermione stood now joined by Ginny and Draco. The four of them looked very eager to hear what Luna had to say to him. It was Hermione who decided to speak out on it.

“Well, Ron, what did she say?”

“Y’know, she didn’t accept it,” replied Ron, shoving his hands into his pockets.

He pointed at the robes that he surmised Ginny and Draco had settled on.

“While you pay for that, I’m going to go on outside if that’s all right,” Ron whispered.

He didn’t even wait for an answer and listened to the jingle of the bell that had sounded when he walked out of the store. His mind was a clutter of confusion as though someone had ransacked his brain. While he stood under the eaves of Moonlight and Magic, his hands still deep in his pockets, he felt more ashamed of himself than he ever had in his whole 26 years on earth.

Chapter 6: Happy Birthday, Hermione

Despite the serious situation that had occurred in Moonlight and Magic everyone’s spirits seemed to rise, even Ron’s, though only a little. All of them began to act appropriately for the day’s special occasion: Hermione’s 26th Birthday.

The five of them Apparated to the Burrow to drop off the items they had bought while in Hogsmeade and for Ginny and Ron to change into nicer clothes at Draco’s suggestion. Once Ginny and Ron had come downstairs again, they were dressed much nicer with Ginny wearing a turquoise dress and Ron changing his casual pants into nicer grey slacks.

They decided to return to Hogsmeade because Draco informed them about the existence of a restaurant and dance hall at the far end of the village. All of them were excited to go except for Ron, who had muttered something about how he did not and would not dance. But for Hermione’s sake, he obliged.

Hermione’s eyes glittered with excitement when they stepped inside the restaurant which she learned was called Enchantment. The place lived up to its name, each rustic wall was donned with ornate, brass torches that burned with golden flames that lit the hall nicely and gave their surroundings an air of extreme sophistication. Each table was adorned with white plates, their rims etched with gold and the goblets were made of the finest crystal.

A pudgy host showed them to their table that was situated at the centre of the hall and near the dance floor. Hermione clapped her hands over her mouth in awe as Harry pushed in her chair for her when she sat down.

“This place is absolutely amazing,” said Hermione, still gazing at the grandiose surroundings.

“Well it’s your birthday,” said Ginny with a smile, “it should be special.”

Hermione agreed in humble embarrassment when everyone nodded vehemently to agree with Ginny. It was then that a stuffy looking maître d’ approached their table with a leather bound notepad in one hand and a quill in the other. He appeared to have a permanent scowl on his face as though someone were waving a pair of sweaty socks beneath his nose.

“May I take your order?” the maître d’ said in a nasal voice, his mustache twitching with every word.

They all picked up their menus, perusing them over and over. Just when they saw something that looked very delicious a new dish popped up. I didn’t make their decision any easier. While they all continued to read the ever-changing menu, Hermione heard an incessant tapping sound jabbing in her ears. She looked up from the menu and discovered that the maître d’ was tapping his foot on the floor.

“I’ll just come back when you’ve decided what you’d like,” he said, stomping away.

“We would like some red wine by the way!” Draco called, purposely waiting until the maître d’ was a few feet away. The maître d’ stopped and turned around, nodding curtly before storming off again.

“I don’t like his tone of voice!” huffed Ginny.

Hermione nodded and then leaned over to Harry was still looking at his menu.

“That maître d’ looks really stuffy, don’t you think?” Hermione whispered to him.

“Yeah,” agreed Harry with a nod, “it looks like he has a wand stuck up his ass.”
Hermione couldn’t help but giggle at his words.

“Why don’t you do that thing you do?” Hermione suggested in an apprehensive hush. “You know that thing you do to impress people?”

“Oh, no, Hermione, you see that only works for women,” said Harry with a look of surprise. He then lowered his voice more, “Besides, I hardly think a public place like this is appropriate for that sort of thing.”

Hermione’s eyes turned round and wide and she felt her cheeks growing warm. She only realized that Harry was joking when he cracked a mischievous grin. But she also knew that he understood the exact thing she was referring to.

“You know, ‘Mione, it’s a severe abuse of my identity and power,” said Harry in a light and joking tone, but she knew well that he really did not want to do what she was asking.

She turned scarlet in embarrassment, now sorry that she had even asked. When she straightened up again, the stuffy maître d’ had returned and they were all still clueless as to what they wanted as they were a few moments ago. As they skimmed the menu one last time, the maître d’ was unable to contain his own impatience.

“I could have transfigured your goblets into cats by now,” the maître d’ snapped in his snooty voice. “Shall, I leave while all continue to dodder over the menu?”

Everyone looked up at the maître d’ with their jaws dropped. Ginny and Ron both made to stand up, more than ready to tell the maître d’ just how rude a man he was. Luckily, Draco and Hermione were there to pull each of them down back to their chairs. Hermione calmed Ron down, leaving him to mutter expletives to describe the maître d’ under his breath and then she turned back to Harry whose eyebrows were lowered in anger. He then turned to Hermione and gave her a sly wink. Then, letting out an exasperated sigh loud enough for the maître d’ to hear, he pushed back the bangs of his incurably messy black hair revealing the lightning shaped scar that rested on his forehead.

Everyone got the greatest pleasure as the maître d’ affixed his eyes on Harry’s scar. Indeed, he had been so taken by surprise that his leather bound notepad nearly leapt from his hands.

“Er---erm, Mr. Potter,” the maître d’ spluttered, “p--please, all of you, take your time.”

Harry nodded and then turned back to Hermione was shining with a bright smile. Without question after that the maître d’ became exceedingly attentive. Their food came out fast and they all had the feeling that their maître d’ had told the chefs to take special care to make their food doubly delicious. They had obviously for Ginny and Draco were enjoying their tuna steaks, Ron was stuffing his mouth with glazed turkey, Harry was doing the same with his lamb chops and Hermione found her veal quite succulent.

When she was done, Hermione poked at her empty plate in satisfaction, her stomach sufficiently full of delicious food. The maître d’ came back again and Hermione observed as Harry whispered something in his year to make him run off to the kitchen. She wondered what he could have said now to make him scamper away again.

“Well, that was very good wasn’t it?” Hermione said to Ginny across the table.

Ginny nodded in agreement and then Ron said what she knew Ginny had been wanting to say since the abhorrent maître d’ had approached their table.

“Yeah,” garbled Ron with a scowl, “all except for that slimy toerag of a maître d’ ...the shirty git.”

Harry laughed at Ron’s comment, feeling that he could not have said it better himself while Hermione patted Ron on the arm. She then took a sip of wine from her crystal goblet when she saw three waiters pushing something on a cart in the direction of their table. Her eyes followed it and she welled up in excitement when she realized it was a birthday cake.

“You didn’t think you were done, did you?” said Harry, grinning.

“Happy Birthday, Herm!” Ron added as the waiters placed her cake at the middle of the table.

Hermione cracked an embarrassed grin, her cheeks growing pink. The cake was round with periwinkle blue frosting and written in scarlet and gold letters was: Happy Birthday Hermione. Candles were lit around the circumference of the cake and at everyone’s urging she blew them out. Each of them had a slice of light, white cake and Hermione slumped in her chair feeling that she could eat no more. She leaned her head against her hand and pushed her plate away.

“That was delicious,” Hermione said with a sigh.

They all began to hear a slow tune being sung by a witch with a breathy voice who had gotten on the stage just above the dance floor. Hermione watched as Draco pushed his chair out, stood up and offered his hand to Ginny.

“Come on, let’s dance,” said Draco.

Ginny nodded and shuffled off to the dance floor with Draco. Only moments after Ginny and Draco had left, a witch with dark blonde hair, her face painted with too much makeup, and dressed in a garish fuchsia robes, shimmied to their table. Without so much as a thought of consideration, she sat in Draco’s empty chair which was next to Harry’s. Hermione glared at the witch, who seemed to take no notice and engaged herself by ogling over Harry. And as much as Hermione tried to fight it, she clenched her fists tighter and tighter, the longer the witch sat there.

“Hello there,” the witch said to Harry in a voice much too sultry for Hermione’s liking. “I’m Alice.”

“Er---hello,” said Harry, with Hermione catching the furtive glances that he was giving to her and Ron. “Er---I’m Harry.”

“Oh yes, I know who you are, of course,” the witch said quickly flicking her eyes to his forehead and then flipping her hair sleek hair back with one hand. “I mean, who doesn’t know who you are? Though, I must admit, I never expected you were quite this handsome.”

Hermione tightened her lips, then reached for her goblet taking down a huge gulp of wine. She glanced over at Ron who seemed to be looking away and was coughing in embarrassment for Harry. Harry was still shifting his eyes over at them as if asking for help which he knew they could not give.

“Er---these, these are my best friends: Ron and Hermione,” Harry added quickly.

The witch only gave them a fleeting glance, saying, “Oh yes, charming pair.” And then she turned her eyes back to Harry.

Ron and Hermione shared a frown while Harry seemed intent on pulling away while she insisted on leaning towards him. Hermione glared at her as she flashed Harry a perfect smile that seemed especially white in contrast with her deep red lipstick. She stood up in a stately manner and held out a well-manicured hand to Harry.

“You wouldn’t deny me a dance would you?” The witch said in a haughty voice.

Harry shared a look with Ron and Hermione that indicated that he would very much like to deny the witch a dance. His decency, however, got the best of him and he stood up with a grudging nod. Then with a squeal of delight, the witch dragged him to the dance floor. Hermione glowered at her and then turned back to Ron. She began to tap her fingers on the table cloth in time to the music and shifted her eyes to Ron many times.

“What?” Ron said, finally noticing.

“What do you mean?” Hermione said innocently.

“You’re shifting your eyes at me, I’m not that thick,” Ron said and then looked at her in suspicion. “What do you want?”

“Oh....I just...Ron, why don’t you dance with me?” Hermione said, grinning at him.

Ron looked at her as though she had just asked him to keep a jar full of spiders as pets.

“Have you gone completely mental?” Ron asked incredulously. “I---do---not---dance.”

“Oh come off it, Ron!” Hermione pleaded. “It’s my birthday after all!”

Hermione waited for his response, her hands clasped together. Then after Ron rolled his eyes, he got up stiffly from his chair. He held out his arm, his eyes looking anywhere but at her and the dance floor. She took his hand eagerly, pulling him to the dance floor. Hermione placed one of Ron’s hands at her waist and the other in her hand. She frowned at how stiff he still stood as though someone had petrified him and then as soon as a mid-tempo song began she pushed him into moving. As they moved along the dance floor, Hermione understood why Ron did not like to dance. His feet were moving in an arrhythmic and jerky fashion, causing her to stumble at every turn.

“Ron! Ron!” Hermione exclaimed, bringing them to a halt. “Stop! Why don’t you let me lead for a little bit?”

“This is why I don’t dance,” grumbled Ron as he heeded Hermione’s words.

Soon they were moving again, but it was not in a jerky manner as before. Rather, it felt like they were gliding. Hermione saw the expression change on Ron’s face from one discomfort to one of mild acceptance. It appeared that the dancing was no longer as bad as he thought it was.

“See, it’s not that difficult, is it?” Hermione said with a smile.

“Erm---I s’pose not,” said Ron with a gulp.

Ron soon became comfortable enough to start leading. Hermione was impressed and then became weary as Ron’s eyes bore into her own. She thought that closing her eyes would help but found that each time she opened them Ron’s gaze was still on her. It struck her more poignantly then that neither of them had discussed the kiss they had shared. She closed her eyes in thought, a sudden image of Harry flashing in her head, and then she looked up at Ron feeling more confused then ever before.

“Ron---,”

“Hermione---,”

They had spoken at the same time.

“Erm---” Hermione stammered, “erm---you first.”

“No, you,” Ron insisted.

She let out a puff of exasperation and rolled her eyes. She did not want to play a

back-and-forth game.

“Ok then,” said Hermione in a firm voice. “I wanted to talk to you about...about that...kiss.”

“Oh!” said Ron with his eyes wide. “Me too.”

“Well,” said Hermione in a slow voice, “what was that, I mean, what was it all about?”

“Well...I... it felt just like when we were kids, when were still together,” Ron confessed, “and I just really felt like I wanted to kiss you then.”

Hermione nodded in agreement.

“Yes, I know what you mean,” said Hermione keeping her eyes on him. “I mean, it really felt like when were still younger, like we were still together.”

Ron’s eyes pierced hers after that and he brushed a strand of hair that had fallen at the corner of her face.

“What does that mean, Herm?”

Hermione answered the first thing that came to her mind, “I don’t know, does it have to mean something?”

Hermione looked up into his eyes and knew them well enough to see that Ron was just as confused as she. Before he answered her he shifted his eyes from left to right as though he were searching the air in front of him for an answer.

“I don’t know,” Ron answered truthfully, “maybe...I don’t know.”

“Me either,” murmured Hermione.

“Yeah…” said Ron in a distant voice, his eyes wondering past her at the empty space beyond them.

Hermione examined the expression on his face. She could tell it was one of distraction and deep thought.

“Ron, are you ok?” Hermione inquired in concern.

Ron’s eyes darted back to Hermione and he gave her a weak smile, “It’s just been a strange day...y’know.”

Hermione nodded, feeling worry for him settle in her stomach. She took one hand and touched his face and he brought his own hand to hers and clutched it. Hermione held his smiling gaze for a few moments knowing that not talking about it was better than anything else at the moment. Then they both turned their eyes to Harry who they spotted still hooked by the gaudy witch. Hermione began to feel the comfortable warmth she had been feeling begin to boil up in anger as she watched the witch tighten her grip around Harry’s neck.

“Harry looks like he needs help,” Ron commented with a chuckle. “He looks like he’s been trapped in a room with Snape without a key.”

“Yes, hmm, well she’s a rather twitchy sort of woman, isn’t she?” Hermione said, trying to keep her voice as calm as possible.

“Care to help him out?” Ron suggested, gesturing towards Harry.

“Yes, we should,” Hermione answered at once.

“No, I meant you,” Ron clarified.

“Pardon?” Hermione asked, bewildered and hoped she was not blushing.

“Well, I’m surely not going to cut in and ask Harry to dance with me,” quipped Ron. “It’d be rather odd, don’t you think?”

“Oh,” Hermione mouthed in realization but then turned back to Ron, feeling guilt stirring in her stomach. “Wait, I can’t just leave you here by yourself, Ron.”

Ron gestured towards a pair of glass doors with brass handles leading to a garden at the restaurant’s rear, "I’ll just go out there...I wanted to go for a walk anyway. And besides, it’s the only way I’ll be able to avoid any one who may ask me to dance."

Hermione gave him a half-smile, nodded and then watched as Ron walked off the dance floor and beyond the doors into the garden. When he had gone, she turned and marched towards Harry, who was desperately trying to distance himself from the clingy witch. With the air of someone ready to win a duel, Hermione tapped on the witch’s shoulder. She let go of Harry and spun around nearly swatting Hermione with her sleek hair. Her lips were tight and her eyebrows were narrowed in anger.

“What?” the witch snapped at Hermione.

“Oh, well, you see, I wanted to cut in and dance with Harry,” Hermione replied in a calm and confident air.

“What happened to that vacant red-haired man you were dancing with?” the witch uttered with a low glare at Hermione.

Hermione and Harry glowered at the witch as she uttered those insulting words about their best friend. And while Harry stood there, clenching his fists so hard that his nails dug into his palms, Hermione still managed to keep her cool as she lifted her head up.

“Well, he wanted to sit this one out and he told me to go on and dance with Harry,” Hermione flashed a smile at both Harry and the witch and the clapped her hands together. “So, here I am.”

The witch sneered at her, not prepared to let Hermione anywhere near Harry. She was fuming, but before she could even open her mouth to make just one sound, Hermione spoke out again, but to Harry this time.

“So, what do say, Harry?” Hermione turned to him and looked straight into his eyes as though the witch weren’t even there. “You surely wouldn’t refuse your best friend her birthday dance, would you?”

“No,” Harry replied, taking a hold of Hermione’s outstretched hand, “I dare say I wouldn’t.”

Hermione beamed at him as he pulled her close and then they dancing away, leaving the witch standing as a bright fuchsia lump in the middle of the dance floor. When they were out of earshot, Harry let out a huge sigh of relief as he gazed at Hermione.

“Thank you...so much!” Harry told her as they slowed in their steps to match the ambling tempo of the song being played. “You have no idea how much you saved me!”

Hermione sniggered and then smiled up at Harry, “Well, you just owe me then.”

“I guess do,” Harry agreed with a nod and then looked around, “Where’s Ron?”

“Ohh....erm…,” Hermione started in a slight stammer, “he’s out taking a walk in the garden back there. He told me he wanted to help you but didn’t want to take a chance that someone might ask him to dance.”

“Hmm...smart man, Ron is,” Harry murmured.

“I don’t understand why you and Ron don’t like to dance,” said Hermione in a matter-of-fact voice. “It’s not that bad is it?”

Harry avoided answering with a shrug and he pulled her closer so that they were now dancing cheek to cheek. Hermione could feel the soothing warmth of his cheek touching hers. The feeling of it was wafting so warmly in the pit of her stomach that she had to close her eyes and take a deep breath. For a moment she remembered what Ginny had said to her about still being in love with Harry and Ron.

Maybe---maybe it is possible, said a very logical voice in a reluctant manner.

Hermione still had her eyes close, letting the realization sink into her mind.
So, what are you going to do now? The voice said. Who are you going to choose? Because there has to be one you love more...one you’re in love with more.

Hermione wanted to scream out in desperation that she did not know, but instead she opened her eyes. Her heart began to pound as Harry took her hand in his and pressed it to where his heart would be. She welled up with a smile, unmistakably feeling his heartbeat at her fingertips. She swore she could hear her voice come back and start to give her the answer she most wanted to hear, but it was crudely interrupted when she spotted a sandy-haired man coming in her and Harry’s direction.

Her voice responded to this instead, Oh no.

“Oh my!” Hermione gasped, looking up at Harry in horror.

“What?” Harry asked in concern. “What is it?”

“Oh dear! Oh dear!” She repeated and then took a deep breath, squeaking out, “It’s Seamus Finnegan, he’s coming this way!”

Harry, who she was sure would understand the severity of this predicament, let out a boisterous laugh.

“It’s not funny!!!” Hermione snarled in panic. “Oh, I have to do something. You have to help me! What do I do? We have to do something!”

Hermione was so blind with panic that she barely noticed Harry calmly clasping her face in his hands. She looked up at him, bewildered and wondered what in the world his plan could be. She grew more and more frantic by the second until she froze when Harry quieted her with a wispy “shhh“, his hands still gently holding her face. Then Hermione felt herself become immobile as Harry drew closer and closer to her. His vivid green eyes were but inches away. He still insisted on bringing his face closer to hers, so close that his features were becoming nothing but a blur. She thought she could see his eyelashes through the lenses of his glasses before she closed her eyes for him.

When he let go she felt a lingering tingle on her lips and thought it was one of the side-effects of being temporarily unable to speak. She kept opening her mouth to say something but found to her dismay that she seemed only able to release air. She stared at Harry who had taken her hand in his but was not looking at her. In fact, he was looking to something next to him. Hermione diverted her eyes to the direction Harry had his and saw the same sandy-haired man she was panicking about only moments before. He smiled and waved at her.

“Hiya, Hermione,” said Seamus Finnegan.

“Erm---hi, Seamus,” replied Hermione, relieved that her loss of speech had passed, but the same panic she had when she first saw him was now flooding back.

“Erm---how are you, Seamus?”

“Actually,” he paused and Hermione gripped Harry’s hand harder in hers, “I’m doing very well. I’ve been meaning to tell you, but you seem to not be getting me messages.”

“Oh...well....erm...I...,” Hermione stammered guiltily.

“She’s just been very busy at the Ministry,” Harry rang in and the kissed her on the forehead, a gesture she found calming. “You know my Hermione: all work.”

“Erm...yes...that’s it,” Hermione said, lingering her thoughts on his words: My Hermione.

“I see you two are back together,” Seamus said, pointing at them with a smile.
Hermione nodded and felt a wave of relief pass through her in knowing that Seamus didn’t appear to angry with her.

“That’s really great, I always thought you too would make a nice couple,” Seamus said and then added, “I mean, I know you dated Ron, Hermione, but, well, I always thought you and Harry…well, you two just seemed to make a lot more sense. I always figured you two would get together eventually.”

“Erm---yes...eventually,” Hermione agreed, feeling a twinge in her heart at Seamus’s words.

Seamus grinned and ruffled his hair humbly, “Erm---those messages, by the way Hermione…”

“Yes?” Hermione squeaked, feeling nervous again.

“They were about,erm...me and Lavender.”

“What?” Hermione and Harry said together in shock.

“Erm...yeah,” Seamus said happily, “we’ve gotten together, me and Lavender.”

Hermione’s eyes widened and she stared at Seamus with her mouth ajar. The only thing that she seemed to be feeling now was surprise.

“Wow, Seamus,” she said overcoming the surprise, “that’s really wonderful.”

Hermione turned to Harry who was nodding in agreement shaking Seamus’s hand. She looked back at Seamus again, who was glowing with content and grinning from ear to ear. There was no mistake: Seamus Finnegan was in love.

“Well, it was great seeing you two again!” Seams said. “Well, I better get back to Lavender now.”

Seamus pointed through the crowd at Lavender waving in their direction. Then he set off with a final nod and Hermione turned to Harry and gave him an impressed grin.

“Thanks,” she said.

“Well, I didn’t really need to help you out then, did I?” asked Harry. “I mean he was coming over here to tell you he met someone else.”

Hermione let out a loud tutt and then rolled her eyes. She knew that Harry was right, but she couldn’t help but think on the way Harry had chosen to help her. Her lips began to tingle again and she pressed her fingers to them.

“You...,” began Hermione, “I mean, he really believed we were together.”

Harry’s grin softened and he set his green eyes on her.

“Well,” he said slowly, “I s’pose I’m a good actor.”

Hermione stepped backwards. She did not expect those words to come from his mouth. She was sure that the kiss was more than just a trick for Seamus. She felt something. She was so sure she felt something. And now instead of feeling uplifted by his touch, all she felt was disappointment.

“I suppose I still owe you then?” Hermione said, her voice coming out slightly cold.

“Well,” Harry grinned at her again and she knew he hadn’t spotted it, “I could settle for another dance.”

“I don’t really feel like another one, thanks,” she said turning from him. “Hermione!” said Harry, grabbing her arm.

She thought he sounded confused and sorry, but she wasn’t sure so she shook him off and turned again only to run into a couple that danced in front of her.

“Erm, sorry,” muttered Hermione.

“’Mione, Hermione, you OK?” Harry asked quickly.

“I’m fine, I just don’t feel like dancing anymore...I don’t feel well,“ she told him, but refused to look him in the eye.

“Is this what I said about Seamus, because I was just joking around,” added Harry.

“No, it’s not, Harry...I’m…,” Hermione began her replay but was interrupted by a female voice in front of her, "Madame Granger?"

She looked up in surprise. She was only referred to by that title at the Ministry and she saw none of her colleagues in front of her. Then she turned her eyes directly to her front, looking at the couple she had just run into and recognized a shiny-haired, violet-eyed female.

“Miss Gerlantes?” Hermione addressed the girl who was but six years younger than she. “How...how are you?”

“I’m behaving myself, honestly," the girl said with a laugh, recalling the meeting Hermione had with her regarding her misuse of magic. “But with supervision, of course.”

Hermione looked at the man Gerlantes was gesturing to with a grudging nod. He was a stringy sort of young man and had light brown hair and earnest blue eyes.

“This is my friend, David, Madame Granger,” the Gerlantes girl introduced, “David, this is Madame Granger with the Ministry.”

“Nice to meet you,” said Hermione and then gestured grudgingly to Harry beside her. “This is my friend, Harry, Harry Potter, he’s an Auror with the Ministry, Harry this is Isabelle Gerlantes...and David, right?”

Hermione watched as Harry shook Isabelle Gerlantes's hand. She observed Harry’s gaze as unblinking and intense. He looked almost angry. She had seen a look like that before, but it had been some ten years since then. She looked back at Isabelle to see if she had noticed at all. She was not surprised to see a small frown turn down Isabelle’s lips.

“Good to meet you,” Harry said in a salty voice.

“Erm…” David said, breaking from his quiet and glancing at his watch, “Isabelle it’s getting a little late, we should go home, Vera’ll be worried about you.”

“Oh yes, right,” Isabelle said and then turned to give Harry and Hermione a smile. “Well, it was good running into you.”

“Yes, let’s just hope I won’t have to meet you on a more...erm...formal occasion.” Hermione added as the two walked off.

Hermione turned to Harry forgetting her disappointment for the time being and bringing her attention to the intensity that was still emanating from him.

“Harry,” she said turning his face to hers, “are you OK?”

“I’m fine,” he replied with a stiff nod.

Hermione frowned, finding herself unsatisfied by yet another one of his answers.

“I’m not buying that,” said Hermione as she shook her head and then she gazed at him in concern. “Please, Harry, please, tell me....what’s wrong?”

She saw his intense expression settle slightly.

“I’m OK, honestly ‘Mione,” he assured her, “she, that girl, she just reminded me of someone.”

“Oh really?” Hermione asked, bemused. “Who did she----”

Before she could finish the question, Harry answered her.

“I can’t place exactly who, though.”

Hermione grabbed his arm, she suspected that he knew who the girl reminded him of, but decided not to push it out of him, also knowing that he did not want to speak of it. And though she desperately wanted to know what was bothering him, she settled herself with the thought that he would tell her in time.

“Let’s go find the others then, OK?” suggested Hermione. “We’ll just tell them we’re ready to go.”

Harry nodded and squeezed her hand gratefully, wanting nothing more than to go home and go to sleep.