Author's Note: This is a sequel to core events occurring in Patronus. Apologies to anyone who thinks Harry and Hermione are a bit mature for their age here (almost 15). I tend to think that witches and wizards are a tad more mature than Muggles. Would YOU trust a magic wand, with the capacity to maim or kill, to someone who WASN'T mature?
Disclaimer: Hey, J.K! Can Harry and his friends come out and play? I promise I won't make any money off them. Just a simple fanfic. Okay? Thanks, J.K! You're a sweetheart!
A balmy June breeze ruffled the curtains fringing the windows of the Gryffindor common room. The fire was burning low, the night being quite warm enough to make the room more than comfortable.
The room was not crowded. Most of the students above second year were out enjoying the night, the majority of them in pairs. Curfews had been relaxed after exams, and the prefects patrolled the perimeter to ensure that no one strayed too far from the castle.
Ron Weasley sat in an upholstered chair, engaged in conversation with Seamus Finnigan, who paced the floor with his usual nervous energy. The only other occupants were two first-years who sat in a corner reading a well-thumbed library copy of Quidditch Through the Ages.
Light footsteps sounded on the spiral staircase leading to the girls' dormitories. Ron stopped talking, silencing Seamus with an upraised hand. He looked toward the stairs, then quickly drew his wand and pointed it in the general direction of the fireplace. He muttered a hasty incantation, pocketed his wand again, then turned to Seamus and nodded.
Smiling broadly, Seamus rolled off toward the two first-years, who were too immersed in their reading to notice his approach.
"So, lads, Quidditch fans, then? Did I tell you I was at the World Cup last Summer?"
The boys' heads jerked up, their eyes alight.
"Did you meet the Irish National Team?" one asked.
"Got their autographs, didn't I?" Seamus beamed.
"Can we see?" the other boy chirped.
Grinning, Seamus jerked his head toward the boys' dorms, then set off with the two excited first-years at his heels. They vanished just as a foot appeared on the bottom step of the girls' staircase.
Ron looked up casually.
"Dress robes? What's the occasion, Hermione?"
Hermione was wearing the same beautiful periwinkle-blue robes she had worn at the Yule Ball December last. She and Harry had made a stunning couple.
"It was Harry's idea," she said, smoothing out the light material as she glided dreamily into the common room.
"He's back, then?" Ron asked innocently.
"No," Hermione said wistfully. "He's still on the continent with Sirius."
Following Final Exams, Sirius Black, Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, had obtained permission from Dumbledore to take a hand-picked group of his most promising students on a short trek across Europe to get some hands-on experience against the Dark Side. Most were sixth and seventh years; Harry had been the only fourth-year chosen. Nor was this favoritism on his godfather's part. As the only student of any age able to conjure a fully functional Patronus, Harry was more than qualified.
'But why now?' Hermione thought. 'Why tonight?'
"Something wrong?" Ron asked.
"What?" Hermione blinked, coming out of her reverie. "Oh...no. Just...thinking..."
"You and Harry still on for this weekend?"
"Mm."
Harry had reserved them a table at the best restaurant in Hogsmeade. They were to celebrate their first anniversary. It was just a year since the night that had changed their lives forever: The night they had exposed Wormtail, cleared Sirius' name -- and, in the process, "discovered" each other.
Only -- the weekend was too late. Tonight was the night. But Harry was hundreds of miles away, deep in the mountains and forests of Europe.
She didn't blame him. Who was she, the school over-achiever -- the girl who had employed a Time-Turner to take extra classes, for Merlin's sake! -- to condemn him? It was extra credit, after all, and good training should he choose to become an Auror.
But he wasn't oblivious to her feelings, bless him. He'd sent her an owl, telling her to wear her dress robes tonight; he would do the same. Thus, with each lodged firmly in the other's thoughts, it would almost be like they were together.
Almost.
But it wasn't the same.
Hermione sighed, walking toward the fire. She loved to stare at the glowing coals. Their lambency seemed to caress her soul when she felt empty or alone, and she had seldom felt the need more than tonight.
It was only absently that she heard Ron making shuffling noises somewhere behind her.
"Now where did I leave that book? Oh, there it is.
"Oy, Hermione! Be a luv and toss me that book, would you? Flying With the Cannons?"
Hermione looked about, saw the book lying in a chair near the fireplace. Covering the distance in two strides, she bent and picked it up --
Instantly she felt a tugging sensation behind her navel. She had felt it once before, nearly a year ago, on Stoat's Head Hill. Wind rushed about her, whipping her robes --
She touched down. The book falling from her hand, she looked around.
She was in a small chamber with circular walls -- a tower, she supposed, not unlike Gryffindor Tower. The walls were hung with tapestries of a decided European flavor -- she had seen similar in textbooks. Torches were set at intervals in iron sconces, their capering flames making her numerous shadows dance across the stone floor.
Wishing desperately for her wand, Hermione swept the room with as much calm as she could summon -- and her eyes fell on a black-haired figure, clad in robes green as his eyes.
"Harry," she whispered.
Harry stood beside a small table which was draped in a white tablecloth. Two places were set.
He held a bottle of wine in his hand. He filled two crystal goblets, set the bottle in a bucket standing at his side. He picked up the glasses, holding one out to Hermione.
She walked over, smiling, and took the goblet.
"Harry..." she said hesitantly, "...should we...?"
"I Charmed the alcohol out of it," Harry said, smiling the smile that made her go all jelly-legs.
"Alcohol dulls the senses, and I want nothing to impair my appreciation of you.
"I'm told it's an excellent vintage."
Harry held out his goblet; Hermione touched her rim to his with a musical "clink". They drank.
"Delicious," Hermione said, savoring the mellow flavor on her tongue.
Harry took her goblet and led her around the table, where he seated her in gentlemanly fashion.
Hermione looked at the empty plate before her, then up at Harry.
Harry drew his wand, waved it once.
"Oh!" Hermione exclaimed with a mingling of surprise and delight.
A tiny dressed fowl had appeared on her plate, in like manner as their food had appeared at the Yule Ball.
"I hope you like squab?" Harry said, seating himself as he unfolded his napkin with a continental flourish.
"Love it," Hermione said. "But how did you -- ?"
"Found a very nice house-elf in Bavaria. Her grandmother's recipe."
"I do hope you paid her," Hermione said as delicately as she could.
Harry nodded, refilling their goblets.
"In socks."
Hermione tried to stifle a giggle, but failed.
Between bites and sips of wine, Hermione asked, "How did you ever turn a Quidditch book into a portkey?"
"Sirius did it," Harry said. "Just before we left. Ron activated it at the last moment so no one would use it accidentally."
"We'll have to buy both of them something nice in Hogsmeade this weekend."
Harry smiled his agreement, pouring the last of the wine.
"Where are we?" Hermione asked at last. "We must be in a castle -- this is evidently a tower..."
"Top secret," Harry grinned. "I could tell you, but then I'd have to put a Memory Charm on you."
"Just so it's not the one Lockhart tried to use in the Chamber of Secrets," Hermione said before she could stop herself. Her cheeks instantly flushed a deep rose, and they both broke into a fit of giggles.
After dessert, Harry helped Hermione out of her chair. To her amazement, he then made everything vanish, table and all, with a wave of his wand.
"Dumbledore taught me that one," he said with satisfaction. "Practiced with Flitwick for a week to get it right."
As Hermione beamed her pride, Harry waved his wand again. Soft music came from the tip. Setting his wand into a niche in the wall, Harry bowed to Hermione, extending his hand. He proceded to sweep her around the small room in a graceful dance motion that impressed her even more than his magic.
"I don't recall you dancing this well at the Yule Ball," she said with a mixture of admiration and suspicion.
"Parvati taught me," Harry said, twirling her elegantly.
"Did she?" Hermione narrowed her eyes impishly.
Harry laughed.
"Careful. I'm the one with the green eyes, remember?"
In the middle of a slow, dreamy dance, a faint buzzing sounded without warning. Hermione lifted her head from Harry's shoulder. It was the alarm from Harry's watch. He silenced the insect-like noise with a touch. Then, to Hermione's surprise, he placed a light hand behind her head and leaned forward to press his lips full upon hers.
Though startled, Hermione leaned into the kiss without a moment's hesitation. She tightened her arms about Harry's waist and kissed him with every ounce of love she possessed.
When Harry drew back at last, Hermione's eyes were questioning.
"Eleven-ten," Harry said, stroking her soft hair. "Exactly one year ago tonight, to the very minute. Our first kiss." Hermione's eyes began to glisten.
"You -- " she began in a trembling whisper, " -- you -- remembered -- oh!"
She threw her arms around Harry's neck and sobbed. Harry continued to stroke her hair as he held her gently. Harry pulled back, drew a handkerchief from his robes and handed it to Hermione. As she dabbed her eyes, Harry said softly, "I have a present for you."
Hermione looked as if she would start crying again.
Harry drew a small jewelry box from his robes and handed it to Hermione.
Opening the box, Hermione withdrew a tiny gold hourglass on a fine chain. Her eyes widened.
"It's not a Time-Turner," Harry said hastily. "But it's not an ordinary hourglass, either.
"I got it from a wizard jeweler in Bavaria -- did you know there's an entire wizarding village there, just like Hogsmeade? I'll have to take you there someday."
Hermione was staring at the hourglass, her eyes aglow with wonder.
"The sands are falling -- " she said, holding it up to the torchlight, " -- but the top isn't emptying, and the bottom isn't filling!"
"It's an Eternity Glass," Harry said. "Its sands will never stop."
Then, softly:
"Just like my love for you."
Hermione started. She stared at Harry, who was smiling strangely, his own eyes moist.
"I don't know why it took me so long to realize it," he said. "I think it was the Yule Ball that opened my eyes. Ron and everyone spent the evening falling all over Fleur. But I couldn't take my eyes off you. I don't know when it actually happened. I just woke up one morning and I knew. I knew I was in love with you -- and always had been.
"I just -- I didn't know if I could say it -- and worse -- I didn't know if you'd feel the same..."
Tears were now running down Hermione's cheeks.
"When I told Sirius, he laughed," Harry said weakly. "He said, 'Boy, you've faced trolls, basilisks, werewolves, and Lord Voldemort! And now you don't have the courage to tell the girl of your dreams you love her?' And I said, 'Yes, but the worst that other lot could do was kill me.'
"And then he said...he said, 'Harry, if James had acted that way with Lily, you wouldn't be here! Tell her!' he said. 'Tell her!'
"So I'm telling you.
"Hermione Granger, I love you! I want to spend my life with you. And someday, God willing and Voldemort doesn't escape from Azkaban, I'm going to get down on my knees and beg you to marry me!
"And all you have to do -- " and here he fingered the fine gold chain of the Eternity Glass, " -- is put this on...or give it back..."
Hermione stared soundlessly at Harry, her misty eyes wide -- then she handed him the Glass.
Harry's heart sank like a stone.
Then Hermione turned around, bunching her hair in her hands and lifting it off her back.
"Will you put it on me, please?" she said quietly.
With trembling hands, Harry slipped the chain around Hermione's neck and fastened the clasp.
Hermione released her hair and shook it about her shoulders as she turned.
"I hope it's waterproof," she said, pressing the Glass to her bosom, "because I'm never taking it off."
"And Hex-proof," Harry said, blinking tears.
"I love you, Hermione."
"I love you more," she squeaked, trying not to cry.
"Not possible," Harry said.
They held each other for a long time, swaying unconsciously to the music still wafting from Harry's wand.
"Time for you to go," Harry said at last. He plucked his wand from the wall, silencing the music with a word. Then he pointed his wand at the fallen Quidditch book and said, "Accio!" The book leaped up and flew directly at harry --
"Impedimenta!"
The book froze in mid-air as if nailed to a wall.
"Hogsmeade?" Hermione said, her hand on the Glass now tucked under her robes. "Saturday?"
"It's a date," Harry said. "Woe to any Dark creature that tries to keep me from you."
Hermione nodded once. Harry passed his wand over the book, severing the invisible thread holding it. Hermione caught it as it fell.
She was gone.
But, Harry thought with a rush of joy, he was not alone. Hermione was still with him, deep in his heart, and always would be. He would never be alone again.
With a jerk and a rush of wind, Hermione found herself back in the common room.
" 'Bout time," yawned Ron, rising stiffly in the chair where he had been sleeping. "I asked for that book hours ago! Give it here, then!"
Hermione made as if to chuck the book at Ron. He threw up his hands in mock horror.
Smiling, Hermione walked over to Ron and kissed him on the cheek. His ears went pink.
She tossed the book onto his lap, turned and headed for the spiral staircase leading to the girls' dorms.
"Goodnight, Ron," she called over her shoulder as she ascended the stair.
"Goodnight, Mrs. Potter."
She stopped, then resumed her climb, glad that Ron could not see the blush coloring her cheeks.
But, being Ron, he knew it was there all the same.
Author's Note: As time passed and my stories became more complex, the fairy-tale nature of this story began to nip at me like a swarm of Cornish pixies. Patronus revealed that Harry and Hermione married and lived "happily ever after." But was the path from point A to point B entirely without bumps and potholes? Naive 15-year-olds eventually mature into sensible, pragmatic adults (though the Jury's still out on Ron). In the story above, Harry made certain statements and promises to Hermione. Will he feel the same three years later when he and Hermione are preparing to go out into the world as fully sanctioned wizards? In answer to that question, I wrote a third Patronusverse story, titled: Always. Chapter 1 (of 6) is up now. Thanks for reading.