Chapter 9
It was just after 2 in the morning when Hermione began to stir. The television was playing a continuous loop of the menu from Return of the Jedi and she was stiff from sleeping in one position for so long. She tried to move but found there just wasn't enough room. She opened her eyes. It was all true and not a dream. She was curled up with a sleeping Harry Potter in one of her big easy chairs in her new home theatre room. He knew her secrets and the mistakes she had made over the years, yet here she was, being held in his arms. She didn't want to move and risk waking him, but even if she could bare the stiffness, she desperately needed to use the loo.
She did her best to stealthily move, but it wasn't god enough. Harry awoke and yawned, "G'morning, sleeping beauty, where are you off to?"
"Just a quick trip, I'll be right back" Hermione answered. She turned off the television then ran upstairs. After using the loo adjacent to her bedroom, she changed into a pair of shorts and matching top pajama set. She also took a quick look through her collection of t-shirts from department outings that always seemed to only be available in size huge or extra huge to see if she could find something for Harry to sleep in.
Harry wasn't there when she returned, but she needn't have panicked because he had found the loo on the ground floor and had been pretty much doing the same thing she had been, minus looking for something to sleep in. He had to really concentrate not to stare at her legs now that she was wearing that adorable shorts outfit. Either she had great genes, she worked out, or carrying books all over the place up and down stairs did wonders for them!
"Harry?" Hermione asked shyly and had difficulty retaining eye contact, her eyes demurely looking to the floor every once in a while. "I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but why don't you just stay the rest of the night?"
Harry nodded. "Do you have something I can wear to sleep in?" He asked.
"I found some old t-shirts that should fit." Hermione informed him.
Harry smiled. "One should be plenty." Harry noticed the amused look on Hermione's face. "Anyway, do you have a guest room made up, or could I get some blankets to make up a bed on the couch in the other room?"
Hermione was quiet for almost a minute and Harry could tell she was very uncomfortable about something. "I...I'd like you to stay...with me."
Harry certainly understood why Hermione had been uncomfortable. He put his arm around her. "Are you sure that's wise?"
Hermione had her answer ready to go this time, "I'd like to wake up next to you later today the same way I did a few minutes ago, but without the cramped, uncomfortable body and the blaring menu of a finished Digital Movie looping constantly. If a change to a more comfortable location and clothing means different additional activities must take place, then I guess I can show you to a guest room."
Harry thought for a moment and spoke huskily, "You're playing with fire, Hermione." He kissed her forehead.
"Perhaps," was all she answered.
Harry thought for a moment before speaking again. "Honestly, I feel like I should prefer to sleep in another room. But I still have this fear that this is all just a dream and when I wake up you'll be gone."
Hermione smiled. "If I'm just a dream, then why not take advantage of me?" she took his hand and started walking upstairs with him.
"Hermione Granger!" Harry raised his voice a bit in a half joking, half serious way. "I'm willing to follow your rules as long as you follow them yourself, but if you keep up this seductive talk, I'm holding you responsible for any what you call 'additional activities' that may or may not take place!"
They reached Hermione's door. "I'll stop teasing you like that then, Harry." Hermione stated. She smiled, "It was fun though. It's kind of new to me."
Hermione opened the door and they entered the room. It had been one of the large master suites. They entered a sitting area that had open double doors that lead to a sleeping chamber dominated by a huge white four-poster and other matching white furniture. It was easy to tell that the rooms had been updated because of large modern adjoining bath. The other clue was the walk-in closets rather than standing wardrobes.
Hermione handed Harry both t-shirts. "I know you said you only needed one, but in case Mr. Potter is a briefs rather than a boxers man, you can transfigure one of them into shorts." Hermione gestured to the loo and Harry went to change in private.
When Harry came out, the lights had been dimmed and the covers turned down. He was wearing one of the t-shirts and a pair of navy blue boxers. Hermione was under the covers on the left side of the bed. "Hi Harry. I hope the right side works for you."
Harry walked over to the bed and joined her under the covers. He placed his wand on the bedside table so it would be in easy reaching distance. The bed was huge and the sheets were soft and clean smelling. Harry instantly approved of this. There was something very feminine about Hermione, but he really liked how she didn't exaggerate it by making every item she owned smell like a flower shop. When he changed, he had noticed a modest collection of perfumes and cosmetics that seemed to imply an understanding of the word subtle. He had also noticed some bubble bath, bath oil and scented candles. She seemed to know exactly what she liked and she stuck with it.
He smiled. "It's fine. This is quite comfortable."
"Now I'm not tired anymore, Harry."
Harry raised an eyebrow, "Hermione, if you are going to start that kind of talk again..."
Hermione quickly interrupted, "That was just a statement about my alertness level, nothing more! Oh, and new rule. No pillow fights, they almost always lead to sex in movies."
Harry laughed and reached out and stroked her hair for a moment. "I still can't believe it's you. And you didn't change your Muggle name. Why on earth didn't I know you were alive when your Muggle self didn't officially die?"
"That was part of my plan." Hermione began. "I wasn't sure if I would be able to establish a new identity in the wizard world, and then for the first 10 years or so, I was afraid that some sort of data would arrive from the French Ministry that would 'blow my cover' as they say. Keeping my real name available and untarnished in the Muggle world was kind of a fall back. I had my trust fund, and then I had the portfolio my parents left me, half at 18 and then the other half at 25. I also knew there was no reason for anyone to decide to look me up in the Muggle world. This house is owned by a fictitious name my solicitor does business under, so I officially own no real property though I do pay taxes on it. I have one place in the Muggle world and that's..."
"...On the income tax roles." Harry finished for her.
Hermione smiled. "So that's part of how you found out I was still around. This address isn't on them. How did you link the two?"
Harry thought about it. "A little bit of luck and an old friend."
Hermione raised her eyebrows in question.
"The night Ginny died, there was a picture taken of this house lit up with candles with blue flames in the windows. I saw the picture a year later and never heard the story behind it. That same day, I also saw a picture taken at her cremation that had someone standing far in the background, but within the wards. I saw additional versions of the picture enlarged to show detail. The hair was different, but it just looked like you. That person was holding Quidditch World Cup Omnioculars from the year we attended the games. Only true friends of Ginny's or true family friends should have been able to pass through the wards."
Hermione smiled sadly. "I wanted to be there for you."
Harry closed his eyes for a moment because he was hit by a quick burst of anger that he didn't want to admit to and if said the first thing to pop into his mind, it would have been, 'Why didn't you think of that 30 years ago!' He swallowed his anger and finished his story. "Colin Creevey was the photographer. He called in some favors to find out who you were to make sure you weren't some Rita Skeeter wannabe. He gave me your fake wizard name and the prints, and I went to my own solicitor and we went from there."
Hermione was puzzled. "But where I live?"
"That was just a hunch based on the picture." Harry answered. He tried to change the subject. "Wait a minute. What kinds of films have you been watching that have pillow fights that lead to sex? I can't think of any that would be shown at a local cinema!"
Hermione blushed and started to reach for a pillow to hit Harry with, but stopped herself in time. She adjusted the pillow as if it had been her intent. "I can't actually think of any. I guess I just thought it sounded funny." She shrugged. "You've actually seen some?"
"Stop right there. You were about to hit me with that pillow!" Harry teased.
Hermione had no idea she would still be able to blush this easily. "Was not!"
"Great, so not only have you spent more than half of your life hiding from me..." He picked up a pillow and bonked her on the head with it, "Now you're lying to me."
Hermione picked up her pillow and hit him back as she had intended in the first place, "OK, maybe I did think about hitting you with the pillow for a moment there, but I showed restraint and didn't do it until you hit first."
They continued to trade blows with the pillows like a couple of eight-year-olds for a few minutes until Harry interrupted with a question. "Is this sex yet?" he asked.
Hermione laughed and hit him back one more time, this time right in the face, "No, your evil pillow plan of seduction will not work!"
"We may have to add in plan B...jumping on the bed and tickle attacks." Harry stated in a mock serious tone.
Hermione laughed so heartily that she had to make the Quidditch 'time out' signal with her hands because she was laughing too hard to talk. She took some deep breaths and then demanded, "You are going to have to tell me what movie you got that from! Pillow fights, tickle attacks..."
Harry had to think for a moment. "I'm not really sure. It's familiar. It could have been a movie, maybe some sort of forgotten bachelor party fare, or perhaps it's just a dream or fantasy about what I thought was really was going on nightly in the girl's dorms back in our school days. And let's move away from this subject, please. We're never going to get back to sleep."
Hermione's eyes grew wide for a moment, but wisely, she decided to respect his suggestion to drop the subject. Their weapons became pillows again, and they settled back into bed facing each other. They were quiet for a few minutes, but neither was getting sleepy again. Hermione turned the lights all the way off to see if that helped.
Now that it was dark, they instinctually spoke much more quietly. Harry requested, "So tell me more about what you've been up to. You told me about your job and some of the works that you've restored, but what about on a personal level?"
Hermione was glad it was dark; it made it easier to talk. "There isn't much to tell really. My Floo connection can go to the Ministry Archives, a public connection on Diagon Alley, and then all the usual emergency connections, and that's it. Outgoing will work for anyone, incoming is just me." She smiled, "I'll need to change that."
"I know you can be a private person, Hermione, but there has never been some romance in your life?"
Hermione thought for a moment. "Hmmm, I think as an adult I've been on dates with a grand total of five men. None were in the last 10 years, and I only saw two of them more than once. I went out with one of them for about a month, the other for maybe three months."
Harry was curious. If it had been him, it would have been all over the papers. "What happened with them?"
"That's kind of personal, Harry."
He wasn't expecting that. "I didn't mean to overstep or anything. I just assumed that was something you'd feel comfortable sharing with me."
Hermione felt silly. "Actually, I do. I'm sorry, I've just never had a friend since leaving Hogwarts."
Harry physically reached out to her and scooted closer. "Come here," he said and rolled her over until they were spooned together. He placed his right arm around her waist, and cuddled her close. "You've got a friend again. I'd like to know about that part of your life."
Hermione felt warm and safe. "The guy I saw for about a month? His name was Roger and he worked in another department at the ministry. I dated him when I was 28. I was kind of a late bloomer in that way. At first he was fun to be around and we had some good conversations, but after a while it seemed like all I could get him to talk about were two books...the two that happened to have been on my desk right before he asked me out the first time. I admire that he went through so much trouble to attempt to relate with me, but we didn't have anything in common other than that. Every date turned into watching Quidditch and drinking at a popular sports pub on Diagon Alley followed by a round of him trying to persuade me to come back to his home. One night he won and let's just say that my lack of experience was painfully obvious. He never spoke to me again after that, but some interesting gossip did travel around the office, but it wasn't so bad since I was already able to work from home when I wanted to."
Harry gave her an extra squeeze. "I can see why you were uncomfortable with that one. He sounds like some people we knew from school."
Hermione sighed, "Agreed. That also describes his mental age. I knew at the time it wasn't going to work out, I guess I was just lonely that night. It wasn't something I made a habit of. The man I dated for three months was the only other, worth mentioning. It was about 5 years later and he worked at Flourish and Blotts!"
Harry laughed a bit. "You really wanted to make sure when you discussed books, you weren't talking about the only two he ever read, didn't you?"
He could hear the smile in her voice, "You could say that! It was a little better. We had some great conversations and he kept me on my toes because we discussed both English and French Muggle and magical works. When things progressed on a physical level, this time there was some romance involved, poems that kind of thing. I should also say that he was a character. I guess I would have to describe him as some sort of a nouveau Bohemian."
"A what? Where was he from?" Harry asked.
"Not where, it's more of a description of values and lifestyle. He fancied himself an artist/poet, against the 'establishment'. It reminded me of the generation right before my parents. No one could accuse me of being in it for the money with him. He really had nothing. He lived paycheck-to-paycheck in a small flat and only owned a few books and some clothing. He kept what clothes he did have clean though, and he always took care of his work robes. I don't know how much you know about Muggles and the 1960s, but he was kind of like a hippy that bathed." Hermione listened for a reaction from Harry.
Harry tried to remember, "The only thing that comes to mind when I hear the word 'Hippy,' other than a way to make fun of someone with large hips, is that I seem to remember my Uncle Vernon using the word when complaining that my hair was messy. 'You look like a hippy,' was what he used to say."
Hermione continued, "It's not that important. People like your Uncle Vernon would have stereotyped them as older teenagers and 20-somethings that grew their hair long and never bathed." She could feel Harry nod. "At first, we just talked books and art and I had thought that I had found someone special. By the time the strange political ideology came out, I was in denial for a while. When someone first talks about corruption at the Ministry, well, who knows about that better than you and I and a few others? 'The Government is corrupt.' Big deal? The government has always had corruption had some level for as long as there have been governments. At first he sounded normal, but then the next thing I know, he's talking about everyone being corrupt and how Voldemort had been made up just to keep the magical population in line because of all the 'power we have inside us'."
Harry was shaking with held back laughter.
"It's OK, go ahead and laugh, it is funny now." Hermione agreed and Harry began to laugh out loud and she even joined him for a bit. "That is what finally got me to get out of that relationship! I changed the Muggle locks, the wards and limited the Floo connection immediately at that point and started getting my books by mail order until he was no longer in Flourish and Blotts employ."
"So you didn't date after that?" Harry asked.
Hermione yawned. "No, he soured me on it for a bit. Then I was so used to focusing on work and didn't spend much time in places where I might actually meet people. I guess I lost interest."
Harry moved back over to his side of the bed. He was getting sleepy and though he didn't have the hormones of a teenager anymore, he was still male and felt a little space was a good idea. He could tell he was drifting off. Through a last sleepy yawn he whispered "See you in the morning."
Hermione fell asleep moments later while muttering under her breath, "I can't believe you tossed my film across the room..."
***
For the first time in ages, Hermione was not awake in time to catch the Daily Profit delivery. She and Harry both slept until almost 9. Hermione loaned Harry a dressing gown that was roomy enough to fit just about anyone in a Black Watch plaid so it was appropriate for either sex and they went downstairs to make breakfast.
They exchanged smiles when they both decided on Earl Grey with honey and Harry took on toast detail as Hermione prepared breakfast. While they were eating, an owl Hermione didn't recognize arrived at the window. Hermione removed the message and saw it was for Harry. She handed him the envelope.
He smiled, "It's from my Solicitor. The owl is most likely waiting to see if I have any further instructions." He opened the envelope, skimmed the content, and laughed.
"What's so funny?" She had to ask while getting a bowl of water and a bit of toast for the owl.
"By the way, they have determined with over 98% certainty plus a bunch of decimal places that Solonge Malfoy is Hermione Granger based on your first ID picture and pictures of you I supplied from Hogwarts!" Harry's green eyes sparkled with humor.
Hermione's eyes opened wide. "I'm glad they cleared that up for us!"
"They also ran a simulated aging algorithm on several pictures and they can give me a 90% confirmation that way, but they say that test is far less reliable and 90% is about as high as it goes." Harry smiled. "Are you still interested in taking your real name back in the wizard world? If you'd like I will write and see if they can work us in. I've worked with the wizard Solicitor and I was quite impressed and I understand he does Barrister work as well."
Hermione nodded. "Yes, please. I've never had the need of representation on the magical side of things so I wouldn't know who to go to." Hermione brought Harry some parchment, a quill and some ink and he wrote a quick note.
Harry sealed his request and attached it to the owl. The owl took a last drink of water before returning to the
office.
*****
A/N
Thank you so much for the reviews so far. Especially to the people that keep coming back! Everyone has been so nice
(except in the beginning when everyone was confused as to why this fic was classified as Harry/Hermione, but that was
my fault.) I hate the idea of begging for reviews, but it really does mean a lot to me to get a quick note. Especially
when I see how many people are reading the story compared to how few comment on it. I'm trying to review more as
well!
Oh...and yes, you are detecting that Harry is holding in some anger at being abandoned in...
That's all the hint you get.... :)