But I thought YOU loved her

But I Thought YOU Loved Her....

By Hermione Cosplayer


Disclaimer:

This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Summary:

Sometimes, important discoveries are too late. What happens if the two men that love you, including the one you love so much you would die for, settle for their second choices out of respect for the other without knowing that each is doing the same thing?

(A/N: I can’t tell you how proud I am for this to be on Portkey! I started posting a few things on ff.net but even though I don’t post much in the forums here, Portkey feels like my home! I read almost everything Harry/Hermione. I hope you like my work and even if you don’t, I hope you offer suggestions on how to fix it up. This story is a bit different than many since it’s set so far in the future.)


Chapter 1


They say the house is haunted. Sure it’s old and doesn’t have the modern appearance of the tract houses in the middle class British neighborhood that replaced the other 200+ year old homes that used to line the street, but it lacked the unkempt appearance of the traditional haunted house. The house always looked like it had a fresh coat of paint; the lawn always looked freshly mowed... But then that was part of the problem. No one could ever remember seeing any maintenance being done. As far as anyone could remember, the only person who lived there was the crazy old cat woman.

Usually one gets the “crazy cat woman” reputation from an overabundance of felines living in one’s house, but in this case, it was just one cat. The same cat. For at least the last 30 years. The cloning of one’s beloved pets had become almost commonplace over the past 10 years so this didn’t seem totally impossible, except no one ever saw this cat as a kitten. Also, no one ever entered or exited the house. Sure the post was delivered as well as The Times, but no one ever saw the occupant leave the house to purchase groceries or anything else for that matter. When a child got brave, usually after having taken quite a dare, and looked in the window, the house was very old fashioned, but very clean, and each room that could be seen seemed to be dominated by bookcases. The occupant was slim with silver grey hair that may have once been brown, and was rarely seen in the window without a cup of tea and an antique book.

When pressed, the oldest neighborhood residents said that perhaps the Haunted House reputation began with the Halloween Decorations and preparations each year. When today’s parents were children, they remembered visiting the house and the amazing sweets they would receive! They also remembered walking through the most life-like pretend “haunted house” that they could ever remember hearing about! It was just too unusual no matter how much fun it was. The sweets were sealed, but they were brands no one had ever heard of. One time a child known for his honesty was willing to swear on a stack of bibles that the frog shaped chocolate he received had actually hopped away from him before he could eat it and the child had witnesses. There was only one explanation: Drugs!

The parents at the time, today’s grandparents, got together and forbid their children from going back to the home. The remaining uneaten sweets were x-rayed and tested for drugs, and though none were found and no charges were ever filed, the once a year festivities stopped being attended. The decorations were in place each year, but no one had been allowed to visit for the past 20 years. Creepiest of all, the children that were of a more delinquent nature sometimes tried to destroy the decorations or take part in the time tested ritual of throwing eggs at the home, but the damage or mess was always almost instantly repaired. No one ever actually witnessed this, but sometimes it just took a quick run around the block to return to an untouched display. Several times hidden cameras were used to see how this happened, but noting was ever recorded.

The grandparents of today also thought of something else. This house was purchased right after “the mystery,” the event that no one talked about. It defied the laws of nature and pretending it never happened was so much easier. For several weeks, the earth was crazy. Severe weather changes happened from moment to moment. Unscheduled solar eclipses happened. Sometimes the moon rose instead of the sun. Lightning of all colors lit up the sky. And the riots! People did the unspeakable; it was neighbor against neighbor, friend against friend! Then suddenly, it stopped as suddenly as it began. And no one mentioned it; no one ever tried to. No one. Not the press, not religious groups hoping to gain new members, not scientists. But everyone remembered, and somehow this house ‘felt’ like it belonged to that time in some way. What they didn't remember was that this house wasn't there before "the mystery." It suddenly appeared between number 11 and number 13 right after everything went back to normal.

Chapter 2

It didn't matter that he was Harry Potter. First, he was 'the boy who lived.' Then he was, 'the man that saved the world.' After that, the victories were almost completely taken for granted and he became even better known (if that was humanly possible) for being, the man who "Brought the World Cup back to England Where it Bloody Well Belongs!' thus becoming an ironic example of the power of sport. Saving the world was one thing, but bringing the Quidditch Cup home to England, now there's an accomplishment!

Everyone in the Wizarding world seemed to have forgotten that his second and final victory over Voldemort was a team effort, as had been the case of all of his victories. Even his very first had as much to do with his own mother's sacrifice as his power and destiny. Yes, during the second war he delivered the final blow that made it impossible for resurrection, and yes, Harry had lead the battle to round up all remaining Death Eaters but he didn't do it alone. Yet now he really felt alone even though he was in a room filled with his family, friends and children. One more family member, his infant grandchild, his first, was safe in daycare at the Ministry of Magic.

Dumbledore was pushing 200, but still didn't look a day over 110. Longevity was the norm among wizards, but this was still a bit unusual. If one didn't know better, one might think he had his own Philosopher's Stone stashed away somewhere because he didn't seem any older now than he did over 40 years ago when Harry first remembered meeting him.

Molly and Author Weasley, Harry's mother and father-in-law, were now great- grandparents many times over. Because of the wide range of ages of their own children, some of their great-grandchildren were older a few of their grandchildren. Their children, grandchildren, and even some of the great grandchildren were all crowded into the waiting room at St Mungo's, but this time it wasn't a happy occasion. The staff was so used to the crowd of Weasley's that showed up each time there was a birth in the family that a few unwelcome greetings of "congratulations" had been given by well meaning staff members. The room was filled with red heads of all shapes, sizes and ages, some crying, some without tears remaining. Some very tiny ones sat in the corner with their toys not understanding why everyone was so sad but somehow knowing that their quietest "indoor voices" and play were best right now.

After the defeat of Voldemort and the remaining Death Eaters, Harry had spent the next 10 years as a very successful professional Quidditch player. When he and Ron had lead England to their first World Cup in ages, it was yet another team effort that he got the credit for. Sure, he had caught the Snitch, but England had been 200 points up and Ron hadn't let even ONE Quaffle in! Harry had only ended the game, his teammates having made that a formality. When a team wins a Quidditch game 350 to 0, the Seeker should not be the one to get all the credit! After that, it was back to the Ministry, this time in the Department of Games and Sports, followed by early retirement. He still gave "Defense Against the Dark Arts" seminars at Hogwarts to the 6th and 7th year students as he had yearly since he finished his formal education, and sometimes he surprised the first years by showing up for their first flying lessons, but other than that, his world was being a husband, father, uncle, and now even a grandfather.

He didn't seem old enough to be a grandfather. He was now in his early 50s but the only things that gave this away were that his once black hair was sprinkled with silver, and the crinkles around his green eyes when he grinned did not completely go away anymore. He was still just as athletic on a broom as all but the most talented young professional Quidditch players and until recently, his green eyes still sparkled with youth and vigor. Now they showed the stress he was under.

Before his Quidditch career, and right after the Death Eater roundup, he had been the groom in the wedding of the 21st Century. The marriage of Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley. Their marriage had been quite happy and their children a joy. Their first grandchild brought even more joy. But that changed when Ginny became ill.

At first, the symptoms Ginny suffered were attributed another pregnancy. Then, saddly, a possible pre-mature end to her childbearing years, but a few symptoms just didn't add up. After many visits to the best healers and mediwizards, then months of the problems worsening, the best Muggle specialists were brought in as well. After more months of testing, it was discovered that a very rare form of cancer was responsible for her illness. Muggle medical advances had been startling over the past few decades, but early detection and luck still played a crucial role in any chance of survival. At this point, both Muggle and Magical remedies had been exhausted and the staff at St Mungo's were doing their best to take away her pain and to prepare her to be taken to the comfort of her own home for her last days. That's why it didn't matter that he was "Harry Potter." No amount of fame or wealth could change his wife's fate.

Oh, the decisions that needed to be made! Animosity that he thought he was long over resurfaced as he had to decide where Ginny should spend the rest of her days. Molly had all but taken over their wedding plans years ago, where was her planning now? Harry then eyed his mother-in-law and noticed that she seemed to have aged 20 years since she found out her youngest child and only daughter was terminal, and then he reproached himself silently for any selfish thoughts. He had thought about bringing Ginny to his parent's old home in Godric's Hollow, but she had never lived there even though Harry did for a while before the wedding. Also, it was a small bungalow with no room for the large extended family that would feel the need to be there. Grimmauld Place would have been an option if it had not been sold to a Muggle family after the war. It did seem best to bring her to their home in Ottery St.Catchpole. It was near Arthur and Molly's, and Harry felt the youngest of his children were old enough to handle this. Only one was still in school. She was a 7th year at Hogwarts and strong as nails, just like her mum. If Lilly had been any younger, Harry would have suggested bringing Ginny to her childhood home instead.

Life was so ironic. He had lost so many friends during the war, Sirius, Hermione, Hagrid, Remus, Professor McGonagall, Neville, but Ginny was so strong and had survived it all. She even had insisted on natural childbirth so each of their children had been born with no pain medication what so ever. Yet now some stupid disease was killing her from the inside out and no magic could stop it. Their youngest was just about to go off on her own once she finished her NEWTs; Harry and Ginny were supposed to have the rest of their lives together...

Ron sat in the corner holding his wife, Luna, close to him. They had tried to talk to Harry over the past few weeks, but no matter how hard they had tried to rehearse the words, nothing came out. Their friendship was strong though. Instead of words, the three of them held each other and cried. It didn't last that long though. It couldn't. Even though so many years had past, the feel of Ron and Luna curled up to him felt too much like the old days with the "trio," and it brought vivid memories and thoughts to the surface that Ron and Harry planned on taking to their graves. Certain events during the war make their secret a moot point, but it still was something unspoken between them. They both had been desperately in love with Hermione, but each also assumed the other was pursuing her. Neither followed his heart and quietly dated others. When the relationships simultaneously became public, Harry and Ron had been heartbroken to find that each had stayed away from Hermione for nothing. It wasn't that Harry didn't love Ginny or Ron didn't love Luna, it was the fact that neither of them would have begun another relationship with someone else if he had known Hermione wasn't 'taken.' Hermione seemed to be only a shell of her former self after this. Neither Ron nor Harry had the chance to explore if he had made the right choice or not because a week later, she sacrificed herself in battle to allow a group of children to survive.

Harry collapsed, but was caught by the surprisingly still surprisingly strong arms of Albus Dumbledore.

Now even the smallest child was too aware of the fear in the room to continue his or her quiet play. Was Great Uncle Harry very sick too? Dumbledore took control of the situation. "I'll take Harry to his home and make sure to prepare a place for Virginia as well. She should be ready for her journey home very soon, and you have younger family members that need support right now." And with that Dumbledore appartiated with Harry to Harry and Ginny's home and the older Weasley's took on the task of assuring the children that Great Uncle Harry was fine, he was just very, very tired and needed a nap.

Chapter 3

The wizarding world was far more kind to terminal patients than the Muggle world. Potions to completely take care of pain were not rationed so Ginny was not suffering. She was just very, very tired. For the first few weeks she was back in her own home, Harry carried her to the living room and she spent her days lounging on sofa quietly visiting with family and selected close friends, but eventually even this became too tiring for her.

The next evening right before sunset, each of her loved ones, no matter their location, heard Phoenix Song, signaling that it was time to say goodbye. It was a special message a righteous magical soul sent out just before it left the earth in cases of non-instantaneous death. The sound could not be recorded and it was not heard through the ear in the traditional way. Even a deaf witch or wizard could hear Phoenix Song. Each song was as unique and captured the beauty of the person that it represented. Gifted witch and wizard musicians who lost a love one in this way had tried to duplicate the songs that played within their minds at times like this, but it was something that could not be recreated even by magical instruments. The only composer known to come close to this was the Muggle Mozart and it was suspected among the magical community that he had been able to hear some of these songs and that had been why he was able to write completed music in full error free with no rough drafts.

Harry and Ginny were alone when he first heard Ginny's song, but Harry knew that it wouldn't be the case for long. As weak and tired as she was, Ginny noticed the look in Harry's eyes. "It's time, it's it?" She asked simply.

Harry nodded. "Your song is so beautiful."

"I can still make it stop, Harry." Ginny spoke quietly and her eyes looked away. "It's not too late for me to join the spirits at Hogwarts."

The last thing Harry wanted to do was to be angry now, but there wasn't time for a debate. He kept his voice gentle and low, and lovingly kissed her lips before replying. "Ginny, don't you dare! I spoke to Sir Nicholas about it when we were still children and it's a lonely existence and you don't get to change your mind once you are there. I know it seems tempting, but what about 500 years from now?" Harry closed his eyes tightly for a moment to try to squeeze the tears back inside. He relaxed when he didn't hear her song end prematurely. "I love you so much," he said as he gently kissed her again and held her hand.

The rest of the family began to arrive and quietly walked to her side. Her song, which had seemed like a simple melody when heard by one person, became more complex as each new loved one arrived, the interaction with that person's soul providing harmony and counterpoint to her tune. Each quietly kissed her forehead in turn while Harry remained at her side holding her hand. After everyone had paid his or her respects, her song became less complex and began to fade. Ginny closed her eyes and the moment the song ended, a soft blue light left her body.

Anyone who knew and cared for Ginny instantly received the one word message. Blue. And that night, candles with enchanted blue flames were placed in the front windows of their homes in memory of their friend.

In a Muggle neighborhood of carbon copy tract houses, the only remaining older home on Grimmauld Place also glowed with eerie blue candle light.

***

The next morning, the front page of the Daily Profit carried the news:

Virginia Weasley Potter, passed away last evening surrounded by her family and friends. Though her own brief professional Quidditch career was overshadowed by that of her national team members husband Harry and brother Ronald, she spent several successful seasons as a Chaser for Puddlemere United before retiring to become a full time parent.

Mrs. Potter was presented with the prestigious Order of Merlin, First Class, for her pivotal role in the Last Defeat of Voldemort and also had been one of the very small but distinguished group still living while immortalized with a Famous Wizards and Witch Card.

She is survived by her husband Harry James Potter, their children James, Evan, Cassandra, Devlin, and Lilly, and their grandson Michael. She is also survived by parents Arthur and Molly Weasley, her brothers Bill, Charlie, Fred, George, and Ronald, and numerous nieces and nephews.

At the request of the family, all tributes in her name should be made to the "Medical Magic and Muggle Medical Science Cooperation Coalition" which works with Muggle scientists who are aware of the Magical Community, usually through a Magical family member, to secretly exchange knowledge.

***

One week later in a private ceremony led by Albus Dumbledore, Ginny's friends and family gathered as her remains were placed on a traditional funeral pyre that was lit with blue flame. Though there were wards in place to stop the public from intruding, the one photographer allowed to discretely record the event was Colin Creavy. It wasn't noticed at the time, but far in the distance, but still within the range of the wards, one of his images captured an unknown person who seemed to be using a very old pair of Omnioculars to view the event.

Chapter 4

Even though Dumbledore’s 200th birthday wasn’t for another 8 years, plans were already underway to put together a 200-year retrospective publication on his life. Though he still seemed as healthy as ever, there was always the chance that some of the material might end up being used posthumously, but no one was overly concerned about the possibility.

The other milestone that would happen the same year that Dumbledore turns 200 is that Harry Potter would turn be turning 60. Though the book was going to be divided into 4 sections, ‘The Early Years,” detailing Dumbledore’s first 100 years, “The Grindelwald Years,” which would focus on defeat of Grindelwald and once and for all clear up any of the mystery surrounding the debate behind the Muggle Hitler and how his defeat was related to Grindelwald’s. The third section will be based on Voldemort’s first rise. The fourth and most detailed section was about Voldemort’s second and final rise and would be a combination of a commemoration of both Dumbledore’s and Harry’s roles. The difference in this section from others would be the amount of information based on the big picture of this defeat. At first the publishers wanted to focus solely on Harry Potter, but Dumbledore and Harry stood firm, insisted on editorial power, and refused to lend their names to a project that minimized the efforts of the other members of The Order of the Phoenix and Harry’s classmates.

Colin Creevey was the managing editor for the project and it was the assignment of the lifetime. He had volumes of research and both wizard and Muggle photographs of the lives of all of the major players. A year had passed since Ginny’s death, and Harry was at the offices of Wizard Publishing looking at the preliminary layout of the history and the selected images to be used.

Harry silently looked through the rough outline. He saw his almost emaciated child former self, drowning in Dudley’s old clothes, in his early Muggle school pictures. Then there were pictures of a much happier teen flying on a broom in an early Quidditch match at Hogwarts. He looked at pictures of people long gone that he only knew as adults, Sirius and Professor McGonagall, then at pictures of his friends that didn’t make it though the battle that stayed forever young in his mind; Neville, Hermione. He tried not to dwell too much on Hermione, she could have changed the world, but she chose to sacrifice herself instead. He also looked at the pictures of the people he stayed in touch with, mostly the Weasley family and other school friends. It was hard to believe what they had accomplished so young. It was also hard to believe how people that had seemed so important in the context of school turned out to have no significance once his school days were over. Draco Malfoy had seemed like such a nemesis as a child, but in the grand scheme of things, his father was barely a footnote and Draco wasn’t even remembered.

Then he began scanning through the events that had taken place after the defeat of Voldemort. He mostly focused on the portions about his own life; his marriage to Ginny; her brief Quidditch career. She really had been quite a player. If she had stayed in it another year or so, he was sure she would have made the British team as well, but together they had made the decision that they didn’t want to wait any longer for a family. The Dursley’s were also but tiny a footnote, his Aunt and Uncle passing away of grief not very long after Dudley died in a one-car alcohol related accident. His blood alcohol level had been over three times the legal limit and though Harry tried not to hold a grudge, this never surprised him very much. He had to admit though that he was thankful that Dudley hit a tree and not a school bus. He quickly turned to memories of happier times, looking over the births of his children and lists of their accomplishments so far.

He wasn’t looking forward to the next section. He hadn’t seen any of the photos from Ginny’s cremation and even though a year had past, he wasn’t looking forward to looking at them. He turned the page and was quite relieved. He finally spoke to Colin, who had been almost unable to breathe while waiting for Harry’s comments about the compilation. “This part is quite tasteful, Colin. I was afraid there would be too many pictures.”

Colin smiled and nodded. Though his childlike idle worship had long since mellowed, Harry was still someone he deeply respected and he was pleased that he approved of the treatment. “I added in another mention of the Wizard/Muggle medical information exchange charity that you support. They’re doing good work.”

Harry was touched by this and sighed. “She was still so young for a witch. When her first symptoms started, we thought we were going to have another child...”

Colin wasn’t sure what to say. “I have extra prints of all of the pictures, would you like to go through them as well? There are hundreds that didn’t make it into the book.” he asked. “You are welcome to keep any that you’d like.” Colin pointed to the box next to Harry on the table.”

“I’d like that. Is there time for me to look through them now?” Harry asked.

Colin was always glad to share his pictures and thrilled when anyone wanted to look at them, let alone Harry! “Certainly. Can I get you some tea, coffee or Butterbeer?”

“Earl Grey, if you have it, please.” Harry answered and began to go through the photos.

Colin really had been such a part of his life from a distance and the pictures were well organized. The Hogwarts photos were numbered by the years Colin spent there, but in no time he had the system worked out and he relived some of his childhood. He knew his family would love seeing all of these pictures of Mum, Dad and Ron playing Quidditch together! He wasn’t sure he wanted to look at more funeral pictures, but as it had been almost a year and just about time to release Ginny’s ashes, he figured it was about time.

The first picture left him so unnerved! He almost wanted to shut the box and not continue. It was a modern picture of the old Order house on Grimmauld Drive; he could tell the time period because the photo could not have been taken if the home was still unplotable and he houses on either side were identical tract homes. Each window was glowing with enchanted blue candlelight. He put it aside to ask Colin about it when he returned with his tea. Harry continued to look through the funeral pictures and got to one in particular that showed the crowd. He never would have noticed it himself, but far in the background, there was a figure circled in red ink. He wondered why this had been marked as it was, and continued going though the photographs. The next pictures seemed to be enlargements of the same picture focusing on what was now clearly a witch watching the funeral using a very old pair of Omnioculars. He knew that face, that stance....it had to be...

Colin returned with his tea. “Oh, you found our mystery guest.” Harry nodded and Colin continued, “I did some research thinking she might have been a reporter also trying to cover the story, but her name, of all things, is Solonge Malfoy.”

“A Malfoy?” Harry asked. “I didn’t know that any of them had survived.”

Colin answered. “I was confused at first as well, but it turns out that she is a very distant relation to the people we knew at Hogwarts. She’s from a small group of Malfoy’s that stayed in France hundreds of years ago and didn’t come over with the rest. She’s about our age and attended Beauxbatons. The French Malfoy’s have always kept their distance from their British relations and have never had even the slightest connection to dark magic. Other than that, all I can find out about her is that she is in magical book restoration and works for the British Ministry of Magic.” Colin paused for a moment. “She’s quite secretive. I had to call in every favor owed to me and then some in order to get that small amount of information.”

“It’s just that she looks so much like...” Harry started.

“I know, Harry. That’s why I did so much research. But you and I both saw her die. We both know it can’t be her.” Colin explained.

Harry didn’t know what to feel. Even with the time that had past, he felt like he wasn’t being true to Ginny’s memory for even having the slightest hope for a moment that somehow his childhood friend was still alive. He changed the subject. “Here’s another picture that seemed strange to me.” Harry held up the Grimmauld Place picture. “I thought we expunged every drop of magic from the place before it was sold.”

Colin shrugged. “It confused me as well, but I had to come to the conclusion that perhaps a bit remained and it remembered Ginny. I left it out of the book because it looked more like the kind of material from the Quibbler rather than a scholarly work. You know, I think I would be able to retire in comfort if I sold this image, but I have learned some restraint over the years.”

Harry had to smile at that. “You know, I really hated the way you stalked me with a camera back in school, but I have to admit that it means a lot to have these pictures.”

This pleased Colin to no end! “Thanks, Harry. Really, take what you want, even the whole lot if you’d like, I have plenty of copies.”

Harry finished his tea and took Colin up of the offer of the box. He placed the images certain childhood photos of Hermione, the pictures of the French Malfoy woman from the funeral and the glowing Grimmauld Place in a separate envelope. There was just something about it that bothered him and he wanted to find his own answers.

*****

Later that evening, in the company of just his closest family and friends, Harry officially ended his traditional year of mourning by releasing Ginny’s ashes into the wind on a hilltop behind her childhood home. Harry removed the ceremonial black armband he had been wearing for the past year, and the extended Weasley/Potter family enjoyed a simple meal and spent the evening in front of the fire looking through the box of Colin’s photos Harry had brought with him. There were a few misty eyes at times, but the wizarding tradition of waiting a year for this kind of moment really allowed one to look back and celebrate life rather than to mourn its loss. Overall, it was a happy time of remembering a wonderful friend, wife and mother, singing her favorite old songs, and letting some of the children run around Molly and Arthur’s house wearing her old Quidditch and school robes laughing at how old fashioned they seemed.

Missing from the box of photographs were the pictures of Grimmauld Place and the mysterious Malfoy woman. That was a secret Harry felt that he needed to keep to himself. Perhaps Colin had run out of favors to call in, but Harry had enough for several lifetimes.

Chapter 5

Maybe some Earl Grey this morning. Sugar, honey, lemon, milk? Decisions, decisions. There was a peck at the glass. It was still dark, 5am to be exact, but this was an expected guest. She opened the window and greeted an owl. She put 9 Knuts in owl’s money pouch, offered it some water and toast, and fondly remembered when the Daily Profit used to only cost 5 Knuts. The owl took a drink, pecked at the toast a bit, and then went on its way.

Solonge Malfoy finished preparing her tea, deciding on honey as usual, and then thought about how best to spend her time today. She worked from home, and in fact, she rarely left her home, tending to only use her private floo connection to the archives at the Ministry of Magic, but her work was amazing and fulfilling, even though she did miss human contact sometimes, but mostly she liked the quiet. She used to have neighborhood Halloween parties, but she went a bit overboard one year with the wizard sweets rather than the standard Muggle variety...that had been problematic!

She had a special lifetime contract with the British Ministry of Magic to document, archive and protect every ancient magical tome still in existence. Though magical restoration had many advantages to the kinds of restoration projects Muggles had to do, it was still difficult, painstaking work for other reasons. Muggles had to deal with acid based paper, foxing, and disincarnation; she had to deal with that plus curse breaking and knowledge of languages thought long lost to the ages. It had been difficult to negotiate a contract that allowed so much privacy and autonomy, but her work was so groundbreaking and accurate, after the first project or two the strange conditions and high expenses were never questioned again. Her identity had been trickier to convince them of before she began her first assignment, which was on a much smaller scale, but with the chaos of the war, even the most steadfast of bureaucrats could be convinced to bend the rules with no monetary or physical inducements.

There was an important project that she had been putting off for years, but since she had just finished a large volume, maybe now was the time to take this on. She thought about the materials in a special climate controlled room in her home, the hand written notes to the first version of Hogwarts: A History, as well as every known edition, and wondered if enough time had passed to look at it. The Ministry never questioned her, but there seemed to be some curiosity as to why she put this important work off for so long. They must have figured it was an old school rivalry issue since as far as they knew, she was educated at Beauxbatons. She had to smile at that. When she did officially get started on Hogwarts: A History, she would have to make sure not to finish the definitive version too quickly having memorized all of the 19-21st century versions that were available. She had also read most of the older versions.

She decided to read the Times, then the Daily Profit while finishing her tea and breakfast before making her decision. The Profit had a touching photograph on the first page and she thought to her self, “Has it really already been a year?” It showed the world famous Harry Potter in silhouette at sundown as he performed the ritual releasing of the ashes of his former wife in hills behind Ginny’s childhood home, and the removal of his black armband, officially marking the end of the ritual wizard mourning period. So many publications had been jumping the gun, already putting him back on their list of most eligible bachelors within a few months of his wife’s untimely death. Witches Weekly pretended to be more upstanding by printing a statement from Harry asking the media to respect traditional wizard ways, but invalidated the spirit of the statement by putting an unbelievably attractive current photo of him next to a working clock that counted down the months, weeks, days, hours, minutes, and seconds until his official mourning period was over. She did not own a copy of this, but she shuddered to think of what happened when the clock hit zero and imagined it involving filibuster fireworks and perhaps a John Phillips Souza march.

Over the past year Solonge had been wondering if she should now reveal her true identity to the wizarding world. She had been ‘Solonge’ for so long, that even when she thought of herself in the third person, that was the name she used. No, she had decided. It wasn’t like she had any family to return to, they had all died because of her in the war. And how could she explain it now anyway? She had made such a petty, selfish decision to disappear as a teenager after overhearing a private conversation between Harry and Ron where they had each declared their love for Hermione Granger, but were too far along in their current relationships to do anything about it. In the back of her mind, there had always been this outline of a plan, but now that the circumstances were correct for it to happen, it just seemed ridiculous. “Hi Harry. I didn’t really die. I was just upset because I heard you say you loved me far more than you could ever love Ginny and didn’t ask me out because you thought Ron liked me and even after you found out he was going out with Luna, you weren’t going to do anything about it because you didn’t want to hurt Ginny’s feelings even though you admitted you loved me more...”

She knew this day was coming, but she had no idea how hard it would hit her. She cried and continued her thoughts...”and I’ve spent my adult life waiting for something like this to happen, but when I look at the reality of the situation, I can’t find a way to approach it that doesn’t make me look pathetic.” She tried to drink more of her tea, but she was too shaky. She tried to remember if she had read anything that could help her feel better now, but only a vague thought popped into her mind, “try to relax, and just let your self cry.” She wasn’t sure if it was good advice, but at least it was advice she would be able to follow.

Hermione wept.

Hmm, she hadn’t been ‘Hermione’ to herself in years. She thought back to when ‘Hermione’ died...

*****

It would have been towards the end of 7th year if classes were still in session. Hogwarts was a very safe place to be so it had been opened up to younger children as well. In the case of a family with very young children, the parent that was the stronger fighter went to war, the other stayed to help with all of the kids as well as his or her own. Most 5th years and up had already joined the fight, but some had stayed behind to teach the younger children. At first Hermione had been asked, and then finally begged to stay behind; all of the teaching staff firmly believing that the next generation needed her to remain alive and they wanted her in charge of the facility. Hermione was flattered, that would have made her the youngest acting Headmistress in the history of the school, but she wanted to fight. She was strong and resourceful and she felt she was valuable in the field.

The light was strange. The remaining Death Eaters had been casting dangerous Elemental spells that had the effect of making everything look like one was looking through a filter of some sort. This had to mean that they were getting desperate, Ron explained it as more of a ‘destroy the world,’ rather than a ‘take over the world,’ move and Hermione had to confess that she couldn’t come up with a better way to put it. This was supposed to be their rest period and even though her sleeping bag had a warming charm and was quite comfortable and their location was secluded and protected, she couldn’t relax after that evening’s meeting. Professor Snape had given each of them a small vial of a very fast acting poison and instructions on hiding it. Everyone knew of the reports of torture and dismemberment coming from the Death Eater camps, so the real use for the poison was not a mystery, but there had been some light hearted denial humor about sneaking it into Voldemort’s pumpkin juice.

Since she couldn’t sleep, she looked around to see if anyone else was awake. Ginny was curled up in a little ball sound asleep, Colin was also sleeping looking lost without his camera, and Luna was snoring so loud that Hermione instantly cast a silencing spell! The adults all seemed to be asleep; Neville was sleeping, but he seemed to be having a dream involving Trevor that she did NOT want to know anything more about, then she noticed that both Ron and Harry’s sleeping bags were empty. She smiled to herself. It’s been such a long time since it’s been just the three of us; I hope I can find them. She thought for a moment. Their bags are on the west end of camp, they wouldn’t risk waking people so they most likely went west, and if not, at least I know they wouldn’t go outside the wards. Well, Ron might, but as long as Harry is with him they won’t.

Hermione quietly got out of her sleeping bag, pulled on her boots, then put her robe over her nightgown and put a warming spell on it so she didn’t have to take the time to get fully dressed. She quietly worked her way around to the west side of the camp and it didn’t take long before she could hear Harry and Ron’s voices. She would have called out to them, but even with the wards, there was still the danger of spies. As she got closer, she had no excuse. She had to listen no matter how rude it was. She hid behind a tree. Harry was sitting on a rock in a tiny clearing drinking a Butterbeer and Ron was wandering nearby and appeared to be looking for something.

Harry had to ask, “Why are you always poking around at the ground, Ron?”

“Muggle bottle caps.” Ron stated as if that meant something.

Harry looked puzzled and luckily Ron wasn’t so lost in his expedition to notice this.

Ron blushed, “Luna collects them. She gets quite excited if I find a new one.”

Harry’s grin lit up his whole face, “So, you and Luna, huh? How long has this been going on?”

“I can’t tell you what a relief it is to tell you!” Ron confessed. “We’ve been together since before we left school, months.”

Harry suddenly felt sick. He had to ask, “What about Hermione?”

Ron grinned, “Well, this kind of frees her up for you then, doesn’t it?” Ron shrugged. “I have to admit, I’ll always be in love with her, in some ways more than I love Luna, but she deserves someone that understands her the first time she says something. I don’t think I’d be able to say this if it wasn’t the middle of the night and there wasn’t a good chance we could die soon, but I know you love her more.”

Hermione had never heard Ron say anything more serious. She wanted to run from her hiding place and hug Ron then hug Harry and tell him that she loved him too, she always had! She just couldn’t move, having ones dream come true was too exciting.

Harry began laughing. It was very strange, not happy, not quite maniacal, but very eerie. “Oh what great friends we are,” Harry stated with a slight touch of melancholy mixed with sarcasm. “We both fall in love with the same woman, then we sneak around looking for another relationship because if we find one, we can present our friend with the prize, the Princess Hermione. It’s not like she’s even ours to give. Did we ever think to ask her?”

Hermione was very afraid when Harry spoke about ‘we’ and ‘looking for another relationship’ in the same sentence. She felt a confession coming on and didn’t like the sound of it. She wished she could tell him that yes, she was his, she always had been.

Ron got tired of waiting, “Spill it, Potter.”

Harry’s voice went back to normal. A 17-year-old boy with messy black hair spoke, “Yes, I am in love with her. I can’t imagine having stronger feelings for anyone one or anything.” Harry sighed and then continued. “Here’s the problem. I started going out with Ginny about the same time you started dating Luna. I have feelings for her.”

“Are you taking advantage of my sister then, if you don’t really like her as much as Hermione?” Ron asked protectively, which was funny because he was always pushing Harry to date Ginny.

“No, nothing like that.” Harry replied. “She’s like a boy...a Quidditch buddy, with benefits...and don’t look at me like that there are plenty of benefits I haven’t tried out! Besides, Ron, we don’t know if Hermione feels anything other than friendship for either of us.”

Ron shrugged. “I’m officially out of the running, mate. Luna and I are good for each other. I’ve also already told her that I love her.”

Harry spoke quietly, “I told that to your sister the first time the other night.” Harry sighed. “She’s said it to me so many times, it didn’t seem right to leave her hanging.”

“Do you?” Ron asked.

“I’m not sure if I do in the way she wants me to,” Harry replied.

By this time Hermione was in shock. She just wanted to go back to her sleeping back and get someone to wipe her memory, but she was too afraid that she’d be heard if she moved. By this point the conversation wasn’t registering anymore.

Ron looked thoughtful for a moment. “Harry, this isn’t right. Don’t lead my sister on like you’re doing. Tell Hermione how you feel!”

Harry looked at Ron like he was an idiot. “And have a big Soap Opera in the middle of a war? We can’t go into the next battle with Ginny in tears and Hermione having whatever kind of reaction she’ll have to this!”

“You’ve got a point.” Ron admitted. “Ginny would be a disaster. We’d better get back, big rescue mission in the morning.”

Hermione watched them walk passed her, waited a few minutes, and then slowly walked to the rock where Harry had been sitting.

It was still warm.

*

The next morning, the group went over the hostage situation they were observing. This was an unusual assignment, but it was a bold new move by the Death Eaters. They had taken over an exclusive Muggle pre-school where the children of many of the members of Parliament and other heads of state attended. The Death Eaters had attacked Muggles before, but this was their first political move and it carefully selected to show their ruthlessness.

Harry was not to be visible at all. This wasn’t the “big battle” and he was too important to risk. They would wear simple Muggle clothing under their robes, so they would need to make sure their wand holsters worked with their selection. They would be checking in with Muggle authorities and Aurors when they arrived and their goal was to either provide or gain information depending on who the Death Eaters inside at the time were.

Once they arrived, Harry was placed inside the Muggle communications van. He could see out and monitor communications. The Death Eaters were already aware of the Auror’s presence because anti-Apparition wards were already in place and to their chagrin; even most of their Portkeys were no longer functioning. Hermione listened to a conversation between Professor Snape and one of the Aurors discussing the advances in Portkey blocking. She thought to herself that it seems like a good idea for trapping Death Eaters, but not a great idea for rescuing live hostages. Her thought was punctuated by the body of a four year old thrown out the door and a demand to remove the wards echoed in the communications van.

At that point, Hermione made a decision. She opened her vial and smelled it to double check the contents, then she swirled it a bit to see if it looked extra concentrated. Then she looked around to see if anyone was watching; she was in the clear. She guessed the right amount to pour out, then resealed the vial. The rest of her plan was easy, she just needed to be visible for a moment. She walked to the communications van crossing in front rather than in back and wore her robe.

By the time she got to the open section of the van, she heard Lucius Malfoy on the speakers stating, “Do not lie to me again or we’ll have to show you another demonstration of our sincerity. I highly suggest a different response this time. Was that Hermione Granger, Mudblood extraordinaire I just saw walking by your little police van?”

Hermione took them by surprise and grabbed the microphone. She answered before anyone could stop her. “Yes, Mr. Malfoy, it is I.”

Once she let go of the talk button there were cries of, “What do you think you are doing?” from both Muggle and Auror alike.

All she had time to answer was, “What ever I have to,” before Malfoy spoke again.

“You are just so well mannered for a Mudblood. Hmm, and I thought there was nothing of value here we could possibly want. How about a trade, Miss Granger?”

Hermione swallowed, “It needs to involve no more dead or hurt children and verification of that, Sir.”

“Just a moment,” Malfoy stalled for a bit, “in the spirit of full disclosure there is one young man that will be needing a cast on his left arm, but nothing else besides that. What we want in exchange is you.”

“Done.” Hermione answered. Once Hermione let go of the talk button teachers, friends Aurors and Muggles alike either tried to talk her out of it or said they wouldn’t allow it.

Snape motioned for silence, “Miss Granger, I have no doubt that you have read all of the horrors that have been performed on female captives over the ages, but have you truly considered the consequences...”

Hermione quickly showed him the vial, making sure her hand covered the amount of liquid in the container. “They’re not getting me alive.”

He started to argue, but Hermione motioned for silence because Malfoy had been making demands. She picked up the microphone again and pressed the talk button, which also muted the speakers. “I’m sorry, I hope you weren’t saying anything important. Here is what is going to happen. I’m going to stand outside the daycare center and I will have my wand. This is when you will begin releasing the children. When you have the last child signal the Aurors and they will clear the building. Once the Aurors give the all clear, you will exchange the last child for me. At that point there will be time for the child to get a safe distance away, then the wards will be removed. Listen carefully to this important detail. While the children are being released, my life has no value. If you try to capture me earlier than the specified time, my life will end by either Muggle or magical means, is that clear?”

“Crystal clear, my dear Hermione.” Malfoy replied almost erotically. “Are you sure you just haven’t been waiting for an excuse to defect? I know, I know, you can’t answer that now. Well we’re ready to send the kids home so we can get home ourselves...we expected the Portkeys to work, clever technology...I hope you know something about that. Well, the children will be on the way as soon as you are in your place.”

Shock didn’t even begin to describe the looks on everyone’s faces. She looked at the Aurors, “You understand this, don’t you. The wards aren’t coming down. This is your chance to get some of the highest ranking Death Eaters at once.”

Hermione was being careful not to look at anyone she knew. Harry tried to get her attention as she started to head toward the pre-school. She ignored him and thought, it’s a bit late for talk. She also let herself get angry about it. It would help her forget about the fear.

*

Hermione stood to the left of the entrance, half way between the door and the van. Once she had stopped for 15 seconds, the children began leaving the building. The first was a boy holding his arm. Hermione couldn’t believe that she had been thinking, “Oh, what nice Death Eaters, releasing the boy whose arm they broke first...” War changes you. She noticed that some of the children started to walk to her. She had to continue to gesture to them to walk straight ahead and she also kept count. There had been about 75 kids in there; she wanted to make sure she had an idea of how long she had. So many things could go wrong. There could still be enough potion in her vial to kill her. Maybe she misjudged and it wasn’t even enough to make her sleepy. Perhaps they would think she was dead but decide to put her head on a stick as a warning as in medieval times. She shivered. If she had counted correctly, 78 children had passed her.

The door opened, and Lucius Malfoy exited the building holding the hand of a three-year-old girl. Hermione was quite certain that she was the Prime Minister’s granddaughter. He stood in front of the building to the right. At this point, the other Death Eaters exited the building and stood against it behind Lucius. Lucius raised his other hand for a moment to signal the Aurors.

Two Aurors walked to the door and make sure to speak loud enough for Hermione to also hear. “All children and employees were accounted for, so we’re just going to make a very quick sweep through the building.” She watched them go in.

She focused. She thought about all the fear the children and their parents must have felt these past few days and she let it get her angry, but she stayed in control. The Aurors finished their sweep and walked back to their positions.

Malfoy walked to Hermione with the little girl in hand. “Send her on her way, Mr. Malfoy, Sir.”

“As soon as you drop your wand, Miss Granger.” He sneered.

Hermione gave a slight smile; “There are twenty Death Eaters with their wands pointed at me. I just want to make sure this last little one gets away safe.”

Malfoy rolled his eyes, “Oh, as you wish.” And he let go of the little girl’s hand. “Run along now...quickly. I have places to go.” They watched her go and he eyed Hermione, “So you’re not defecting, I can tell that. What is your motivation, little Mudblood? It can’t just be because you felt sorry for the rich spoiled brats. It’s going to be so much fun getting it out of you.”

Hermione didn’t answer. She checked the vial with her tongue to make sure she would be able to bite down on it, yet still be able to speak.

Malfoy looked in the direction the child had gone. “Well, I can’t see her anymore, why don’t you drop that....”

Hermione tossed her backup wand behind Lucius and he instinctually followed it with his eyes. Within seconds Hermione pulled her usual wand from its holster and yelled “Avada Kedavra!” her built up emotions gave her all the power she needed.

As soon as she knew he was dead, she bit into her vial, and fell into a very deep sleep. It was so deep that the Muggle paramedics that had been doing CPR on her on the way to the Muggle hospital had told the doctors to just mark this one DOA.

Hermione woke up under a sheet in an empty hospital room and later figured out that it was about 7 hours after the battle. Luckily the hospital had been busy so she hadn’t been transferred to the morgue. Later research showed that they lost no one but her from their team, one Auror and a few Muggle police. No Death Eaters got away. It was after much research that she decided to take the identity of a Malfoy. She did speak fluent French, so that worked for whole non-evil French branch of the family. Also, she figured, in a way Lucius Malfoy helped her start her new life. Away from a 17-year-old boy that said he loved her and couldn’t imagine having stronger feelings for anyone one or anything, yet wasn’t willing to leave his Quidditch buddy with benefits.

***

For someone so smart, it took her so long to figure out that Harry hadn’t been the only one being immature about the situation. But then who says love stories can’t start at age 52?

A/N
Thank you Pumpkiniers for sticking with me through the back-story. Thinking back, I really should have had chapter 5 totally ready to go before posting the earlier chapters. I stayed awake all night to polish it up to make sure that you understood the what happened to make things end up the way they did. I wanted Harry to have been in a long term, stable, relatively happy relationship with someone we knew, but I didn’t want a divorce, affair or any of the baggage that goes along with that. So, I killed her off quick and gave him a right proper year to ‘mourn’ so the wizard tabloids wouldn’t have a field day. J

This won’t be in the story, but in my mind, this is how Harry and Ginny got together. The teenage Ginny that I saw was into all of the same things he liked (i.e. Quidditch) and the first few times anything physical happened (i.e. kissing) they both apologized to each other later. Then they both just kind of got used to the stress relief and then Ginny fell in love. In case you are wondering, it was never more than kisses and maybe a few snogging sessions until after Voldemort was taken care of (Harry/Ginny haters, sorry to spoil your dinners...). A few weeks before Harry and Ron’s conversation, Harry had realized just how deep Ginny’s feelings had become, but as he said to Ron, it just wasn’t the time to break someone’s heart. Hermione had never made her own feelings known, and both Harry and Ron were both thinking the other was after her.

After the end of the war, Hermione was gone as far as Harry knew. Ginny was comfortable to be around and he figured he would have to wait a lifetime to find someone that could make him feel anything remotely resembling what Hermione made him feel (if ever) and he wanted the family he never had. Life went on, as it tends to do, he loved his family and he did love his wife. He knew his marriage wasn’t anything like a romance novel in terms of passion, but they had been happy, which is more than what could be said for many couples he knew but he did have the vague sense that he was missing something in his life. Oh, and one more thing. I first wrote the death chapter without the “I love you,” being the ‘pumpkin-head’ that I am, but come on, this is our Harry we’re talking about!


Chapter 6

Harry sank into the leather chair at his Solicitor’s office trying to let the information he just received sink in. Mr. Banks was a Squib, so he was the perfect person to attend to the legal affairs of Wizards when their business overlapped with the Muggle world.

“So let me get this straight,” Harry stated. “ You’re telling me that Hermione Granger is not dead.” Harry couldn’t hide his cynicism.

“No, Mr. Potter, that’s not what I stated. I just gave you a list of facts that can be explained in many different ways.” Mr. Banks answered.

Harry was frustrated, but he tried to recount what he had been told. “There is no Death Certificate in the name of Hermione Granger born 9/19/1980 or anyone by that name born any date plus or minus 10 years. There is no hospital report from the night she died, but we did find a report of a suspected missing Jane Doe DOA that was thought of as a book keeping error.”

“Yes, Mr. Potter, that is correct. There is also a possibility her body was never identified and her body was disposed of by the state. You, yourself said none of your group attempted to recover the body...”

Harry snapped at him, “It was the middle of the war! I hated not giving her the respect she deserved, but we couldn’t risk it. The Auror’s unit should have handled that, but from what I understand, it was a busy day and they were not able to find her once they arrived.”

Mr. Banks used that statement as a starting point for his next idea. “Harry, if you don’t mind me calling you that...” Harry nodded in approval, “since you brought that up, there is also the likelihood that perhaps her remains were stolen by the Death Eaters for use in potions.” He stopped there. He didn’t need to explain to Harry just how the fresh virgin body parts of a powerful witch could be used in dark magic. Harry didn’t know for sure about the virgin part, but he had always trusted her when she said nothing happened with Viktor Krum and he didn’t remember her ever dating anyone seriously.

Harry shivered in spite of all he had been through. “How does that explain the rest of what you told me?”

“Identity theft was quite common in the late 20th and early 21st centuries, Harry. Miss Granger’s parents left her quite a portfolio. It would have been a very tempting target.”

Harry thought for a moment. “Hermione was always the brains of our little circle of friends, but I see a hole so big here even the Knight Bus could drive right through it. A Hermione Granger withdrew the trust fund at age 17 and a half, several days after the battle where we thought she died. At age 18, she inherited half of her parent’s estate, and at age 25 she gained control of the other half.” Harry paused as if something should be obvious to Mr. Banks at this point.

Mr. Banks still looked puzzled, “This is still well within the realm of identity theft.”

“You’re leaving out one part, Mr. Banks. You said that taxes continue to be paid each year in her name through her Solicitor...”

Mr. Banks gave him a look that seemed to question the validity of Harry’s thought process.

Harry continued. “If I were an identity thief, I could see the benefit of paying taxes between ages 18 and 25 to make sure to gain control of the whole estate without attracting unwelcome attention, but why would I continue to pay taxes once there was nothing more to gain? Wouldn’t I just move the money out of the country once I had access to all of it? “

Mr. Banks’s eyes opened wide for a moment. “You do have a point. Honesty and identity theft don’t usually go together. Unfortunately, the only information that is public is the fact that someone of that name has continuously paid taxes and how much was paid each year. The amounts seem consistent with what one would make with wise investments of a portfolio of that size. They do not seem to indicate additional income or money being removed for support, other than a large sum of money removed from the trust fund at the start. The other public information available would be ownership of real property or criminal records, that kind of thing. Other than taxes, we have not been able to find anything.”

“What about the non-public information?” Harry asked seriously.

“Already on that,” there was a reason Harry selected this Solicitor. “Who ever this person actually is, all of his or her business including taxes is handled by a very secure Solicitor’s office. The only place where they will even admit to representing a client is in a court of law. If you phone their office and make up a name and ask to leave a message for that person because you know they are a client and it is very important, they’ll take the message and tell you that if that person is a client, it will be passed on, exactly the same way they handle it if you ask for a real client.”

Harry nodded. “If you hadn’t thought of the tax angle that I brought up, why did you bother to check on that?” Harry asked with a smile on his face.

His Solicitor smiled. “I may not know you very well personally, Harry, but your reputation precedes you. Even if I hadn’t been able to come up with a compelling reason to check I couldn’t see anything wrong with being thorough. Also, they have no history of magical clients. All Muggle. Usually big name business people that want their privacy, but sometimes some unsavory characters as well.”

Harry frowned.

Mr. Banks continued, “Let me get my Wizard partner and let you know what we’ve been able to find out on that end. I’ll be right back.” He left the room.

The whole unsavory Solicitor firm bit didn’t sound like Hermione. But did it sound like Hermione trying not to be found and the kind of decision she might have made as a teenager? If she were still out there, that was a huge advantage Harry had, life experience. If somehow, someway she had faked her death in front of so many people, she would have had to quickly make decisions to set up a new life for herself and the information from her taxes showed she wasn’t spending money from her parent’s estate. She was making her own way in the world. Most likely in the magical world based on the tax amounts.

Harry stood up as Mr. Banks returned to his office with Mr. Beaumont, a Wizard who also worked as a Solicitor. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Mr. Potter. I’ll do my best to avoid the same praise you must have to hear on a daily basis, but please don’t think for a moment that means I have any less respect and admiration than the multitudes of autograph seekers.” He shook Harry’s hand warmly.

Harry smiled and even managed to joke, “What, you don’t want an autograph, or perhaps a lock of hair, for a ‘friend’?”

They all laughed, and Mr. Beaumont gestured for them all to sit back down. “Let me get right to the point. My assignment has been to gather information on the Malfoy woman. I’ve worked hard to be able to speak English without a French accent, it comes in handy for undercover work, but I attended Beauxbatons in the late 1990s, approximately the same time you and your friends attended Hogwarts.”

Harry looked interested. “What can you tell me about Solonge Malfoy?” Harry asked excitedly.

“Absolutely nothing from a personal standpoint, but I have research.” Mr. Beaumont answered. “I do not remember her from school. Of course, there is no way to tell with absolute certainty. Beauxbatons and the French Ministry of Magic were totally leveled during the war and no records remain, but I have contacted at least 50 former classmates, and no one remembers her. Right after the tragedy, all it took was a few phrases in French to get new identity papers from the British Ministry. Here’s her first ID photo.”

Harry took a close look at the small ID sized picture he was handed. The young woman had short but thick black hair in a pageboy style haircut with the ends curled under and thick fringe. It was hard to tell, but her eyebrows did appear to be lighter, suggesting this was not her natural hair color. It certainly didn’t look like Hermione, until he covered the hair with his fingers. Once he did that he was able to focus on her eyes and the shape of her mouth. “It’s her.”

Both Solicitors seemed surprised. Harry had a reputation for being far more rational than that. Harry noticed their skepticism and went through some pictures her brought with him. He found a few with Hermione that had a similar expression on her face and placed them on the desk. “Her hair is such an overwhelming feature that if it’s changed, it’s hard to tell it’s the same person, but look at these pictures if I cover the hair.” With the help of some paper and his fingers, Harry covered the hair on the ID photo and one of his own pictures, and the Solicitor’s were now able to see the same matching facial characteristics.

Mr. Barns picked up the phone to the technical department. “Hello, Stan. I’m sending down a few photos, I’d like ASAP confirmation on if it’s the same person. I’d like skull size, eye measurements and placement...you know...the usual...thanks...I owe you...” Mr. Barns then spoke to Harry. “I’m assuming you’ll let me borrow one of these, I know I should have asked first.”

“Not a problem!” Harry replied. “I really don’t need the answer, but confirmation wouldn’t hurt.”

“I have more on Solonge, if you are still interested?” Mr. Beaumont offered.

Harry smiled, “Yes, please continue.”

He cleared his throat, “After Solonge was able to get establish herself and get her new ID from the British Ministry of Magic, she put in a request to take her NEWTs because of the lost records in France. She selected to take the tests in English; her application stated that if she was going to be staying in England, she wanted to make sure her test results proved she was proficient in the language of the country where she now lived. This was very unusual because of the difficulty of the tests, so she was flagged for further investigation and interviewed in French. She passed. She also passed all of her NEWTs and, I know you are wondering this, she took them in the exact same subjects Hermione Granger had been taking before Hogwarts closed down during your 7th year.”

Harry had to laugh. “I knew she could speak some French, but I didn’t know she was fluent!”

Mr. Beaumont continued. “Very soon after passing her NEWTs, she began working in magical book restoration for the Ministry. She’s very well thought of and has saved books that were once thought to have been lost forever. She works from home.”

“12 Grimmauld Place” Harry stated simply.

Mr. Banks joked, “Was there something that you actually NEEDED our assistance with, Harry?” this made Harry smile. Mr. Banks had more to say, “I have to admit, I am starting to believe that this may be your friend, and I’m a cautious man. Keep in mind that she might not want to be found.”

“Buying my old home wasn’t the best way to accomplish that. The Black family owned it, and then I did, I sold it right after the war to a Muggle family, and then she must have purchased it.” Harry thought out loud.

“We’ll let you know what we find from the pictures. Unless you have any further questions, good day, Mr. Potter.” Mr. Banks stood and shook Harry’s hand and so did Mr. Beaumont.

“Thank you very much for all of your hard work.” Harry replied as he left the office.

*

Harry took a deep breath as he watched the delivery owl fly away. It carried a note and a single, perfect white rose.

Chapter 7

Solonge was relaxing in a very comfortable chair in a room she had just converted into a home theatre. Crookshanks was sleeping soundly at her feet and she was looking around the room admiring her work. Instead of jumping right in on her next project she made a decision that shocked her entire department. She asked to take some vacation time...for the first time...ever. Not only did they grant her request, they begged her to take as much time as she wanted because they didn’t know when she’d ever get the urge to take a vacation again!

Over the past week or so she had actually read works of fiction and listened to music. One day she even spent some time shopping on Diagon Alley and got a hair cut and purchased some new clothes. A few years ago, she had been disappointed that her hair had turned totally grey at such a young age, but at least it was a pretty grey. It was soft and silky with a silvery tone and didn’t have the brassy look that some grey hair did. It was also very flattering to her skin color and she wore it shoulder length. Her hair color was the only thing that betrayed her age. She had the stereotypical creamy smooth, “we don’t get much sun in the UK,” complexion and since she never had a lot of sugar growing up with dentists for parents, she never developed a sweet tooth so she didn’t have a weight issue. She became one or two sizes larger than her old teenage self as she matured and that seemed to be just where her adult self should be.

The new theatre room was fun. She had to shield the room to make sure she didn’t damage the equipment when doing powerful restoration spells in her office. She had picked up most of her favorite old movies in the latest digital format and vowed to spend time on herself reading by choice or watching a movie even after her vacation was over. Crookshanks woke up for a moment to give a loud purr and stretch. She scratched behind his ears and then heard an owl tapping at the window.

She stood and walked to the window and froze for a moment when she saw the rose. Her first thought was, “He found me.” She didn’t know how she knew. It could have been someone from work hoping she was enjoying her vacation. She opened the window and took the rose and the note from the owl. She started to get some coins for a tip and maybe some water and crumbs for the owl, but it flew away before she even turned around.

She figured that whatever this was, she had better sit down. The white rose had been protected in flight by thick clear plastic. When she removed it, she saw how perfect it was and how beautiful it smelled. There was a small envelope without a name on it, but it did have her address. She took a deep breath, opened the envelope and took out the card and read.

“Please forgive me if this is just wishful thinking,
But I believe that I have just discovered who you really are.
I can’t tell you how much I want to see you again.
I have to so much to tell you that I’m not sure how to start,
But once I start, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to finish.
If this means nothing to you, then please forgive me for intruding,
You are most likely not who I think you might be.
If this does mean something to you,
Please meet me at the coffee shop in front of Kings Cross today at 4pm.
I’ll wait until 5 pm.
In case you get this too late for today,
I’ll also be there again tomorrow between 4 and 5 pm.

H.P.”

She became Hermione to herself again. He knows, she thought. How and why did he find out now and not some other time? That’s his handwriting. She read through the note looking for any sign of anger or any sign that he didn’t really want to see her or other motives. She couldn’t detect any. A white rose. Innocent love...friendship. She frowned. Or was it Pure Love? She didn’t remember. She walked to the kitchen to put the rose in a bud vase and checked the time. It was 3:30. Kings Cross was only a 20-minute walk; she needed to hurry.

Freshening spells sure came in handy. She decided to wear one of her new outfits. This one was light blue with a full skirt and light blue and white top and was very feminine. She took the time to brush her teeth and hair the Muggle way, and then headed out. The neighborhood busybodies were surprised. They didn’t think they have ever seen the crazy cat woman outside before. She didn’t look all that crazy walking down the street, though she did look quite happy. They figured they’d mark this day on the calendar just in case something strange happened.

It was a few minutes before 4 pm and Hermione was just about to turn the last corner to Kings Cross. Her heart was pounding in her chest and she hadn’t been this scared since she had to pass her French interview at the Ministry. No, this was worse. She could stop and go back, sleep on it and meet him tomorrow instead. That would give her some time to think. But of course, it would also give the bloody “Ghosts of Gryffindors’ past” time to visit and haunt her dreams asking her tauntingly, “Where’s that Gryffindor Courage, Hermione?” No, Thank You! She turned the corner and continued walking.

She wasn’t sure who saw whom first, but Harry was waiting for her outside the coffee shop. They caught each other’s eye and smiled as they both walked to meet half way. Hermione had the exact same instinct Harry did. They greeted with a hug that ended up lasting much longer than expected. Harry pulled her close and marveled at how her body seemed to fit his, and how good she smelled, and how soft her hair was, and that she was real, and alive, and she had become such a beautiful woman, and that she was in his arms. Hermione cuddled and felt like she was melting to Harry’s body. She loved the way her head seemed to fit just right in Harry’s shoulder, then there were tears in her eyes as she felt Harry stroking her hair. He smelled so good. He started to caress her back.

After a few minutes, he pulled away from her slightly, just enough so he could look into her eyes. He wiped away her tears with his fingers, and then softly asked, “Why?”

Hermione blinked for a moment and started to answer as best as she could, “I...I...”

At the exact same moment, they both decided to answer the question together in a different way. Their lips met with a gentle, sweet kiss. Harry’s lips were so soft. Hermione had always dreamed of a day when she could let him know she was still here, but even her wildest fantasies didn’t include her ending up in Harry’s arms so quickly. She ran her fingers though his still messy hair like she had always dreamed of doing. It was so soft. She felt his arms holding her so close and his hands caressing her back and then her neck, then her hair. Their lips parted and their kiss deepened. It was as if both Harry and Hermione were trying to use that kiss to explain a secret; what each had felt for the other a lifetime ago.

Harry wanted to pick her up and swing her around with happiness. He didn’t know how else to put what he was feeling as he kissed her into words. Maybe it was her feminine clothing, but kissing her made him feel so ‘male.’ This was ironic because as they ended the kiss to come up for air, this time, he was the one with tears in his eyes. He looked around, and gestured to a nearby bench and still arm and arm, they walked together to it.

They sat close together on the bench and looked into each other’s eyes. Hermione reached up and dried his tears. She took a deep breath and thought about answering him. “The question you asked can be answered in so many different ways. I can just stick to the facts as I knew them, or I can add in feelings. I think I could come up with a quick ‘executive summary’ version or...”

Harry interrupted her with an impish smile and a quick kiss.

Hermione laughed, “OK, you get the point. In any case, is it really something you want to talk about on a public street?”

Harry laughed and teased her, “Is that just a quick way of getting to, ‘Your place or mine?’ Miss Granger?”

Hermione’s eyes widened with embarrassment. She decided to tease right back, “Well, Mr. Potter, if just a kiss from me made you start crying like a little boy, forgive me if I thought you might want some privacy for my tale of unrequited love and woe.”

Harry had been ready to verbally spar with her, but then stopped when the words ‘unrequited love’ sunk in. After that kiss he didn’t think her story would have a surprise ending, but he was interested in the path and the journey and he had the feeling she was correct about privacy. “I’m sure you’re right. My kids Floo into my home unannounced all the time, so that’s out. How about your home, it’s a nice walk from here.”

Hermione agreed, “Yes, but let’s apparate.” She noticed the strange look on Harry’s face. “I agree about it being a nice walk, but you’d have to know my neighbors to understand.”

Chapter 8

Hermione held Harry’s hand as they apparated to her home. So much work had been done to the interior that she didn’t want Harry to end up inside a wall that wasn’t there the last time was inside. They stood hand and hand for a moment until Hermione ended the silence by asking, “Can I get you anything? I just made some iced tea a few hours ago.”

“That sounds good,” Harry replied as Hermione started to walk to the kitchen. She was only able to take a step before she noticed Harry was still holding her hand. He noticed as well and started to walk with her, trying to cover his behavior. “I’d like to see what you’ve done with the place.”

Hermione smiled. “Alright. But you’re going to have to let go when I get the tea.”

“I just can’t believe it’s really you. I’m afraid that if I let go, you’ll disappear.” Harry admitted.

Hermione felt like she was melting. She gave him a quick hug. “Harry, I’m not going anywhere, promise.” She broke the hug, but they continued to hold hands has they walked to the kitchen.

They reached their destination, Hermione gestured to a chair. “You sit right here where you can keep an eye on me, and I’ll get some glasses and pour some tea for us.” She smiled sympathetically. “I’ll be right here.” She gave his hand a gentle squeeze before she let go and realized that since their first hug, this was the first time that they had broken physical contact since 4 o’clock.

Harry looked around and noticed the white rose he had sent in a pretty bud vase on the table. If he didn’t know better, he wouldn’t even know this was the room where the Order of the Phoenix used to meet. It did have an old-fashioned kitchen look, but modern conveniences were built in so it contained the best of three centuries. It was also very light and airy with a comfortable place to eat an informal meal. Harry watched as Hermione selected some tall glasses, added some ice, and then took out a pitcher from the refrigerator and poured the tea. To that she added a sprig of fresh mint and selected several long iced teaspoons. She placed his drink in front of Harry and sat next to him with hers. “It has a touch of sugar, but if you want more, the sugar bowl is right there in front of you on the table.”

Harry made sure he was sitting close enough to Hermione for their knees to touch. At this point, it was not just a matter of physical attraction though he had to admit it was a factor, he hadn’t been exaggerating. He truly had the irrational fear that this was all a dream and that if he blinked too long or if he let go, she’d go away. He tasted his tea. Sometimes he drank it sweeter, but it was very good this way. “This is perfect.” He paused for a moment. He had so many questions to ask her and had no idea how to start.

Hermione smiled and said, “Thank you,” and went back to sipping her iced tea. In fact, she began to gulp it before putting it down to talk. “I have so much to say. I almost wish I had added a shot of Fire Whiskey to this, but then again, at least this way you will not have any doubt about my sincerity. I’m not really sure how to start, but I’m going to be brave because last time I didn’t have the courage to just jump in and tell you how I felt, and it might have changed my life...our lives.” She paused and took a deep breath. “I have always loved you, Harry Potter.” She put her hand on his arm and looked into his eyes. “I can’t say for sure if I did when I was eleven because I don’t know if that is old enough to have such feelings. The first time I knew absolutely for sure was when we rode the Hippogriff together to rescue Sirius.” Hermione felt absolutely naked and exposed jumping right in like that so soon. She watched Harry closely for any reaction.

Harry had been listening very closely to her confession and one thing had stood out to him. It was in the past tense. Not that he had wanted her to have spent her life pining her life away for him, but if she was over him now and this was an old friend remembering her school crush, it certainly had a different dynamic. He reached out and stroked the top of the hand touching his arm, then moved his hand to the side of her face down to her chin, making sure to hold her face to make it almost impossible to avoid eye contact. He asked his question with one word, “Loved?”

Hermione blushed. Something she hadn’t done since she was a teenager! “Past tense...present tense...future tense.” She answered and kissed him gently. “The infinitive, ‘To Love,’ has some interesting possibilities for the future.” She shyly looked down at the table for a moment. “That may be rushing things a bit though.” She saw the look of joy on Harry’s face. “So now you know my biggest secret, Harry. The rest is just the logistics of what happened over the years.”

Harry put down his tea, stood up and pulled her up into his arms. “Wait a moment.” He looked puzzled. “I know women have this way of knowing things before men do, but you seem to have this extra knowledge about my feelings for you that I’ve never shared with anyone. Is this just a gut feeling or is there something more to it?”

Hermione hugged him closer for a moment. “Let’s go sit someplace more comfortable and I’ll explain it to you. You did talk about it once that I know of.”

Harry was puzzled, but nodded and followed her into her comfortable living room. She had to kick poor Crookshanks off the couch so they could sit together, but cat was not disgruntled for long. He seemed to remember Harry and was soon rubbing his head against his legs to mark his territory.

Harry looked around. It was similar to the kitchen in that if he didn’t know for a fact where he was, he would have never guessed that he was at Grimmauld Place. It was so open and airy, but filled with bookshelves, which gave it ‘the Hermione Touch.’ He had to comment, “Don’t you miss the mummy’s hands and skulls and all the other dark magic items?”

“Goodness no!” Hermione replied as she sat. “I deal with quite enough of the dark arts in some of the texts I restore, thank you.” Hermione was silent, not knowing how to continue her confession.

Harry sensed she was uncomfortable so he cuddled her close. He spoke softly, “Does this make it easier to talk?”

Hermione nodded. Her head was buried in Harry’s chest. It felt so safe, like she could say anything. “The night before our mission at the daycare center, I was unable to sleep. I looked to see if anyone else was awake and noticed that you and Ron were missing. I went to find you. I didn’t mean to listen in, but Ron was telling you for the first time about his relationship with Luna...”

Harry vaguely remembered the conversation so he softly interrupted, “And I told him about Ginny that night, didn’t I?”

Hermione snuggled closer and fought back tears, “Do you remember anything else about the conversation? Perhaps a certain girl that Ron said he loved but wasn’t good enough for was now available?”

This was enough to jar Harry’s memory and his heart stopped for a moment as it all came flooding back to him. He pulled Hermione on his lap and began to rock her back and forth. “Oh, dear Gods! Sweetheart, you heard that?” Then he continued to rock her gently and every once in a while give her little kisses on the head and whispered, “No wonder...”

They weren’t sure how much time had past, but Harry continued to cuddle her close, but did have to ask a question. “Please, don’t think I’m placing any kind of blame or anything like that, but I just have to ask. Why didn’t you say anything once you knew I felt the same way?”

Hermione had been crying. She reached for a tissue, dried her eyes and blew her nose before she spoke. “When Ron said he was together with Luna and he knew you loved me more, I wanted to run out from where I was hiding tell you that I loved you too, but I was afraid about what you both would think of me for listening in.” Hermione sighed. “And then from there it just went downhill. It’s so long ago, but it’s so clear in my head. I think you felt presumptuous for acting like I was some sort of prize that you and Ron got to fight over. You called me Princess Hermione. You were half right; maybe I wasn’t a prize or anything like that, but you had already won my heart years ago so you really had nothing to worry about in that respect. Then you started talking about Ginny and not wanting to break her heart during the war. I think that’s what really hurt. I got the feeling that you would have been willing to break her right in two if you knew I was a sure thing. I just couldn’t be a part of that.”

Harry’s eyes didn’t hide the hurt he felt. He kissed her before continuing. “You might not believe it, but I’m very ashamed of what I was doing at the time. I swear to God I wouldn’t have done it if it weren’t during the war. Ginny and I had each been physically using the other as an escape to break the tension at that time; we even had kind of an agreement.” He gave her a squeeze and kissed the top of her head. “I can’t see your face right now but I can imagine the look you must be giving me so I’ll just answer it. Yes, I know it wasn’t the smartest thing to do. I didn’t realize she was falling in love until it was too late. Even after you were gone the relationship didn’t progress until after Voldemort was destroyed.” Something then dawned on Harry. “Oh God, Hermione!” He kissed her deeply before continuing. “You tried to commit suicide the next morning, didn’t you? But for some reason, Snape’s poison, the one we were counting on to keep us from being captured alive, didn’t work!” He squeezed her tight and his voice showed how overwhelmed he felt. “I could handle the thought of you making a noble sacrifice for those children, but I’m not sure that I can live with this.”

Hermione cuddled back. “It does appear that way, Harry. But I can assure you that is far from the truth, but I did know it was a risk.” He took his hands in hers and she continued. “I was so devastated. I have to admit that I was willing to do just about anything to get out of the situation I was in. After that mission, I was going to see if I could leave the field and go back to Hogwarts and help teach, or any other assignment to get me away from you and Ginny, but then I saw the reality of the situation. All those Muggle children under the age of 5 were in there with the Death Eaters and we had blocked their Apparition spells and Portkeys. I offered them the only thing of value we could possibly spare that they would want and trust. Me. They’d never in a million years think that I was on a suicide mission. They were so excited about the prospect of picking my brain that they were careless.”

“But Hermione,” Harry interrupted, “I thought you said it wasn’t a suicide mission?”

“It wasn’t, but both sides needed to think it was. Right after I came up with my plan, I checked which potion Snape used to poison us, made an educated guess about the concentration, and emptied my vial so it only had enough to make me appear dead for a number of hours. I got lucky and guessed correctly. I also hid my regular wand in my holster and held on to my backup wand. I think you can figure out the rest from there.”

Harry sighed. “You gave up on any chance at us – you and I.”

“Harry James Potter,” Hermione stood up. Her voice slightly rising in anger, “One of the last things I heard you say was that you had already told Ginny that you loved her even though you told Ron that you loved me more but weren’t going to do a damn thing about it. I never had the slightest clue before that night that there could ever be a you and I.”

“Hermione Granger,” Harry also stood and took her hands in his, “As you were walking out to what I thought was your death and not even looking back, I was trying to tell you that I loved you and not to go. It took four Aurors and a stunning spell to hold me back.”

Hermione spoke quietly, “Once I took over, we saved all 78 remaining children and took down all 21 Death Eaters with minimal losses. Did anyone else have a better plan?”

Harry dropped her hands. “No, but perhaps the one we used could have included us being there when you woke up.” He turned away because he didn’t want Hermione to see his tears.

“I wasn’t even 18 and I made a stupid decision. I thought I’d get away for a while and it just kept getting easier and easier to stay away.” Hermione simply stated. “I’ve wanted to be ‘the real me’ again for a long time but I didn’t have a clue how to go about it. Once you married Ginny there just wasn’t any reason to make it a priority. Then my big plan had been to let you know I was still alive if anything ever happened with your relationship, but when your year of mourning was up I didn’t know how to do it without making me look pathetic.”

Harry dried his eyes before turning back around again. “When you took out Malfoy single-handedly, I hoped you had just dropped to the ground for safety, but when the paramedics took you away, part of me died too.” Harry sat back down on the sofa and gestured for her to join him. She sat, but not as close as before. Harry looked heartbroken, “Have I ruined everything already?”

Hermione looked at him and shook her head no, “I guess I sort of assumed the other way around except that I thought you weren’t going to forgive me.” She moved closer to him and they curled up together again. “All better?”

Harry stroked her silver grey hair. “If we’re going to make a go of this, we’re going to have to tread lightly and make sure to talk about this kind of thing, aren’t we? We can’t be jumping to conclusions left and right.”

“Check. No conclusion jumping.” Hermione smiled and Harry kissed her nose. Hermione giggled, then recalled the daycare battle. “You know, speaking of Malfoy, you really should have seen his face! He thought he was safe because of having 20 Death Eaters backing him up. It’s not like I enjoyed it in spite of all the evil he was responsible for, but there was a certain level of satisfaction there when I think of the children they had been holding captive.”

“I never talk about that kind of thing either, but yes, justice can be rewarding.” Harry admitted seriously. “We’re supposed to be on the good side and we stopped some terrible things from happening, but I always felt that if I expressed anything along the lines of, ‘It felt good to see Voldemort fry, it helped me finish up the healing process with Sirius and my parents and let me start a life,’ people would think of me as less of a hero or role model or even less of a person.”

“What a relief to talk to someone who understands!” Hermione exclaimed. “Since you found me, I’m going to assume you know about my other identity.” Hermione stated rather than asked. “There are so many people I’d like to see again, and I think I should find a Solicitor that handles Wizard affairs and look into getting my old identity back.”

“I should think so, Hermione. You have an Order of Merlin, First Class with your given name on it! Not to mention a Chocolate Frog Card!”

Hermione laughed. “I do already have one of my Frog Cards, but it would be nice to actually be counted among those with in the ‘Order of Merlin, First Class’ club.”

Harry smiled as well. “Come to think of it, you might take that back after attending one of the gatherings, they can be quite boring. But it is quite fun to make faces at people in Second Class and Third Class rooms as you pass by. I hear they make them actually pay for their drinks.”

This made Hermione laugh out loud. “I’m starving. I seem to remember you being quite the cook. Are you up to helping me make some dinner, or do you have other plans?”

Harry smiled. “I’m a man of leisure. I have nothing scheduled until this Saturday; it’s my Grandson Michael’s second birthday. Other than that, I’m a free man.”

“Well, into the kitchen with me then, free man, and help me cook some dinner!” Hermione teased.

***

After enjoying a meal cooked together, Hermione decided to show Harry her new Theatre room. Harry looked through her collection of movies. He had a look of exaggerated horror on his face as he turned to her. “Oh no, I’m not sure I found you in time!” he stated melodramatically.

It may have been years, but Hermione recognized his teasing tone and decided to play along, “What is it that you didn’t arrive in time to save me from, Harry?”

Harry pretended to get quite dramatic. He held up the Digital Media case to Titanic. “This!”

Hermione laughed. “Harry, it was quite popular when we were still school. You should have heard Lavender go on about it. She must have seen it 50 times that summer though I didn’t see it at all at the time. It’s not like I was watching it or anything...”

“Hermione Granger, the Media is still in the player!” Harry admonished her.

Hermione blushed, “OK...you caught me. I guess the whole ‘doomed hopeless one person has to go on without the one she loves’ romance was kind of hitting home.”

Harry ejected the media and placed it back in the case trying his best to touch it as little as possible. He tossed it over his shoulder and across the room as Hermione looked on with a half shocked, half amused expression. “You don’t need that kind of movie anymore,” He stated firmly and grinned while continuing to skim through her collection. “Chick movie, Chick movie, Documentary, Documentary...Hello, What have we here?”

Hermione laughed at the way he was categorizing her movies. It may have been years, but she knew that when he called a movie a ‘chick movie,’ he was just teasing her.

Harry smiled like a Third Year visiting Honeydukes for the first time as he picked up a Digital Media case, “Star Wars, A New Hope on Digital Media with all 8 Definitive director’s cuts and also including the ‘Make your own version’ feature!’ Harry jumped around like a kid and popped the media into the player. “Let’s make our own version!”

Hermione laughed. “Set it up however you like, but Han better shoot first!”

Harry’s eyes lit up! He turned and looked at her and really saw Hermione and what she had become. He fell in love all over again. He also found The Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi. “Hermione, you haven’t even opened ‘Jedi’ yet.”

She smiled and laughed, “I can’t abide those Ewoks, disgusting creatures!”

Harry laughed as well, “You’re mixing up your quotes, but I understand your point of view!” He opened up the package and set up the player for all three movies, selecting a ready-made version of Episode 4 that met her criteria and dimmed the lights. “Which one do you like best?”

“I’d have to say The Empire Strikes Back, though I’ve never had a thing for scoundrels. Luke is more my type, but then the whole Luke/Leia sibling subplot is disturbing.” Hermione admitted.

Harry thought about it. “Hmm, Harry Potter, Scoundrel. That could be my new persona. Any idea where the Spice Mines of Kessel are? And while we’re at it, what was Spice anyway and why did it need to be smuggled?”

She laughed. “Let’s just watch the movies.”

“Alright, but you have just ruined my perception of the infallibility of your brilliance.” Harry stated.

Hermione tilted her head to the side. “That is a good thing to get over with now, Harry. I enjoy being well thought of, but it can be lonely being high up on a pedestal with no one for company.” And with that, Hermione pressed ‘start’ on the remote control.

She had huge matching easy chairs in front of her large screen television, but Harry squeezed in together with her and they cuddled and kissed while watching classic movies from a few years before they were born through their early childhood. They fell asleep a few minutes into the third film surrounded by popcorn, empty tea glasses and a very content Crookshanks curled up on top of the two of them.

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.... :)

Chapter 10

Two days had passed and it was now Friday. Hermione, Harry and Barrister Beaumont were waiting to be called for Hermione’s closed-door hearing at the Ministry of Magic for her name restoration petition. Harry had asked Headmaster Dumbledore to be available for the hearing without giving him any details and out of respect for Harry he had agreed to make himself available. They would be sending for him when identification was needed. Barrister Beaumont had met with Harry and Hermione the day before and had carefully interviewed her for any possible problems. Since she had not taken the name of a known person and was not hiding from any illegal activities in the wizarding world, there didn’t appear to be any stumbling blocks. Both Harry and Mr. Beaumont had been surprised when she answered ‘yes’ when he asked if she had committed any crimes as Solonge Malfoy. She went on to explain that she had snuck back into Hogwarts right after she passed her NEWTs and rescued Crookshanks from where he had been staying while she had been fighting the war and she was pretty sure that was breaking and entering even though the cat was her property. The Barrister suggested that she not bring that up at the hearing.

Except for when he was home to pick up new clothes and shower, Harry had spent every moment with Hermione. Outside of some much deeper kisses lasting well into the night, their relationship had not become more physical yet. Until this afternoon at the Ministry, they had limited their outings to Muggle London, so it would be the name of Hermione Granger that showed up in the tabloids linked with Harry’s. Even though she loved her natural silver grey hair color, she had gone to a salon early Friday morning and had exactly matched her old chestnut brown hair color to help with her transition. Harry had been against the change at first, the silver was so pretty and exotic, but then when he saw the Hermione he knew from school back in front of him, he instantly admitted he had been wrong. Besides, it wasn’t like the grey wouldn’t grow back.

Harry felt like he was on an emotional rollercoaster. So this was what it was like to be in love with another adult...a woman. Hermione wasn’t the only one that had been alone for the past 30 years; she just had less company. He did know love; he had truly felt its depths the first time his oldest child was placed in his arms, but this was so much different.

Harry had a secret. He was also carrying around a ‘demon’ that he wasn’t talking about. The undefined anger that he had thought he had put to rest years ago when he had stopped Voldemort was back...that was part of the rollercoaster. He was angry at growing up without parents, at the Dursley’s, and he also felt anger, guilt and confusion that he was unable to sort out over a mixture of his children, Hermione and Ginny and he felt like it was eating him alive.

Harry was looking forward to bringing Hermione to the Burrow tomorrow Saturday for his grandson Michael’s birthday party. Hermione had always been like a second Weasley daughter and he knew they’d do the wizard equivalent of killing the fatted calf when they found out she had come back from the dead. Maybe he’d find the time to sneak away and talk to Molly for a bit. Hermione might still be able to do NEWT Arithmancy in her head, but Molly would be able to look at his ‘demon’ it from the outside and give him some perspective before he exploded.

A door opened. “Barrister Beaumont, please come forward with your client,” requested a solemn faced man.

The Barrister, Hermione and Harry entered the office and the solemn faced man shut the door behind them. He then walked over to his desk and they remained standing because he was still standing.

“I’m Judge Hathaway. I’ll be hearing your case today. Depending on the evidence, I may be able to make a decision based on the evidence presented, or recommend major criminal fraud charges, do you understand this, Miss Malfoy?”

Hermione looked at her Barrister and he spoke for her. “Sir, in light of the deception in using a different name over the years, my client feels uncomfortable answering to that name.”

All three could instantly tell this had been a bad move. “I’m sorry your client feels uncomfortable with doing things legally. This may not be a courtroom, but in my chambers, she will be addressed by her legal name, which is currently Miss Solonge Malfoy.”

“Yes, Sir!” Hermione complied.

Judge Hathaway sat allowing the rest to sit as well. “I have already spoken with your employer here at the ministry. He and many others from your department have vouched for your honesty and integrity and the impact that your work has had on history.”

Hermione listened to him say such nice things about her, but he still used the same tone of voice one might use when describing rubbish.

He continued. “You are fortunate to have character references like that with both current and ongoing knowledge of your honesty.”

Hermione wasn’t sure what to do. She knew she was only supposed to answer direct questions, yet this judge was just looking at her. She decided to remain silent. This pleased the judge. He had the twisted idea that the way one behaved in court was another way to measure one’s character; and he didn’t take into account that not everyone knew the rules.

Judge Hathaway began his questions. “Parentage?”

“Muggle, Sir.” Hermione answered.

“Name at birth, birth date and documentation if any?”

Hermione took a deep breath and answered, “Hermione Granger, Sir. 19th, September 1980.” Barrister Beaumont handed the judge her birth certificate and a baptismal certificate from the Church of England.

The judge examined the documents. “I thought most Muggles had three names.”

“My parents were kind of old fashioned when it came to names for females,” Hermione explained. “In many cases after a woman gets married she drops her middle name and her maiden name becomes her new middle name. My parents didn’t want to give me a name I was just going to drop anyway...” Hermione’s voice began to fade during her last statement as the irony hit her.

Judge Hathaway was right there to rub salt in the wound, “I’m sure they would have been quite proud.” The judge focused his attention on Harry. “I know who you are, but for the record, please state your name.”

“Harry James Potter, sir.” Harry answered.

“And you are positive that this woman was the girl you went to school with?”

Harry answered quickly, “Absolutely.”

Judge Hathaway had another question for Harry, “What makes you so sure?”

“We were close friends in school, she remembers moments that only involved the two of us.” Harry replied. “Also, since I found out she was still alive and tracked her down, we’ve been together almost non stop. It’s impossible for her appearance to be based on Polyjuice potion or anything like that.”

The judge turned to the barrister. “I believe you have a witness that is unaware of the situation that you feel will be able to give the true identity of Miss Malfoy.” He handed Barrister Beaumont an interoffice memo form. “Please send for him now.”

Barrister Beaumont filled out the form, folded it correctly, and opened the door a bit to let it fly on its way before closing it again.

Judge Hathaway began his questioning again. He moved back to Hermione. “You’ve established quite a name for yourself in the past 30 years, what have you to gain by changing it, or if you like the name, ‘Hermione Granger’ so much, why not just legally change it rather than actually reclaim an old identity?” He attempted to even sweet talk her a bit, “If you play your cards right, you might even be able to take this fellow’s last name if you fancy a change.”

Hermione felt very insulted but she knew she didn’t dare express what she felt. She knew she would have recourse in court but in a small informal hearing like this sometimes things got ugly. “I took on a different identity after a silly emotional incident involving failed romance as a teenage girl. Hermione Granger is my true self. I was a proud member of Gryffindor House as a Student of Hogwarts, a Prefect starting in year 5 and I still hold the record for OWL results. I was Head Girl in year 7 until the school closed and I think it’s time to put the mistake of an emotional 17-year-old behind me.”

At this point there was a knock at the door. Judge Hathaway spoke to Hermione. “Please stand and face the door. Do not speak to the witness until I tell you that you may.” He motioned to the Barrister to open the door.

Albus Dumbledore entered the room and had been planning on asking Harry what this was all about, but his eyes gazed upon Hermione. He whispered, “Merlin’s Beard...” as more of a prayer of thanks than an exclamation of surprise. He walked over to her and in a very fatherly way placed his hands on her shoulders and kissed her cheek. “Bless my soul, Hermione Granger, where have you been?”

Hermione turned to the judge to see if he would allow her to speak. He made no indication that he would allow her to do so at this time.

“Mr. Dumbledore,” Judge Hathaway began, “For the record, it is your opinion that this is indeed, Hermione Granger standing in front of you.”

Professor Dumbledore removed his hands from Hermione’s shoulders and turned to face the judge. “What kind of nonsense is this; who else would it be?” Dumbledore roared.

Even Judge Hathaway knew that you didn’t mess with Albus Dumbledore. “For the past 30 years she has been claiming to be Solonge Malfoy and working for the ministry. She is petitioning to take her name back.”

Albus appeared to think for a moment. “Is anyone else using her true name at the moment?”

The judge replied, “No, but that’s hardly the point...”

Harry, Hermione and Barrister Beaumont all managed to keep stern faces, but inside they loved every minute of this.

“What else could possibly be the problem now that she has been identified. I’m assuming she didn’t commit any crimes as Miss Granger she was attempting to hide from.”

Judge Hathaway fumed. “She was posthumously given the Order of Merlin, First Class. There will be paperwork and costs involved to change the award to a living person.”

Albus turned to Hermione, “Miss Granger, how are your finances?”

Hermione was too surprised by the question. “Excuse me, sir?”

“Money, dear. The Order of Merlin comes with a substantial cash prize.” Albus explained.

Hermione caught on. “My finances are fine sir, any costs incurred by my poor decision as a teenager can be paid out of that and I can cover the difference.”

Albus continued, “I can assure you, dear, that will not be an issue.”

Judge Hathaway regained the use of his voice. “Now see here! During a time of WAR and CRISIS she took up the valuable time and resources of the ministry staff masquerading as a French Expatriate and Refugee taking advantage of our programs...”

Barrister Beaumont decided to jump in figuring he may never get another chance like this, he purposely flaunted the use of her given name because he felt that he could get away with it. “Miss Granger, did you take any monetary, shelter or physical resources from the French Expatriate or Refugee program?”

Hermione shook her head no. “No sir, nothing but an ID card with a new name. Later I paid the standard fees and took my NEWTs even though I could have had the fee waved with my status. I never had the chance to take them under my real name since Hogwarts had shut down at the time I would have taken them.”

Judge Hathaway decided it was time to end this with some semblance of dignity intact if possible. He slammed his gavel down on his desk and demanded order. “Mr. Dumbledore, with all due respect, please sit down.” He looked at Hermione but did not refer to her by name. “You should remain staining and please face me. Mr. Dumbledore, because of your unique status in our society I have allowed more flexibility then I have ever allowed in either one of my courtrooms or an informal hearing. I would prefer if news of this was not made public in any way. The woman whose case we are discussing here, and believe it or not, I am not calling her by name at this time out of respect for her wishes because I will not call her by a name that is not her legal name, was of legal age when she willfully committed fraud. She is hereby guilty of that crime and prison is one of the punishments I could impose. However, the little speech given before the star witness entered my chambers touched me, so the punishment for her crime is a fine of 1000 Galleons to be paid immediately. I believe you have proven that you are indeed Hermione Granger.”

Hermione beamed! Barrister Beaumont had let her know of the slight possibility of fraud charges and that jail time was a punishment, but no one had even expected it to be mentioned, let alone be threatened!

The judge continued, “Solonge Malfoy also has a long list of accomplishments to be proud of so the records will be merged. You will be responsible for any costs incurred and any repercussions. You have now been found guilty of what I am classifying as a class 3 minor crime. Your Barrister will confirm that I have classified it with the lowest designation possible. If you are found guilty of no other offences, your record will be wiped clean five years from now. You lose no rights, but you must report the conviction it in official records where it is legal to ask for such information.” He waved his wand and papers appeared on his desk. “I have three sets of papers here. The first will restore your given name and set the process in motion to merge your records with those of Solonge Malfoy. I’m assuming you would prefer to sign these before hearing about the rest of the details?”

Hermione smiled. She couldn’t tell if maybe he wasn’t that bad after all, or if Dumbledore had scared the pants off of him, but at this point, she didn’t care! “Thank you, sir!” she answered as she stepped forward and signed the first paper. It had a place for two signatures. She signed Solonge Malfoy on one line, followed by Hermione Granger on the next. It disappeared and she stepped back.

Judge Hathaway continued. “From here on out, please use your birth name when signing any official documents. The next document will start the process to review your Order of Merlin standing. I cannot guarantee that you will continue to have that honor, but as I am not a member of the committee that decides such things, my opinion carries no weight, and this form carries no recommendations either way. It only states that Hermione Granger is alive.”

Hermione stepped forward and signed it as well and it quickly disappeared.

The judge explained the last document. “Please sit down Miss Granger. This last document will restate the information I previously told you about fraud and a class 3 minor crime. It also explains that I am dismissing any other actions against you connected to this without prejudice.”

Hermione noticed that Professor Dumbledore and Barrister Beaumont looked uncomfortable and what the judge had just said.

The judge continued. “This means that if additional compelling evidence comes to light about criminal activities being the true reason for your first name change, the case can be reopened. I’m going to leave the room for a few moments so you can discuss the matter with your Barrister. Please call me when you are ready.” Judge Hathaway stood up and so did everyone in the room except for Dumbledore. The judge handed Barrister Beaumont the paperwork and left the office.

Hermione relaxed as she sat back down. She gave Harry a hug and a quick kiss. “I think we won,” she commented.

Harry didn’t comment. He was too busy watching the Barrister read the document.

Professor Dumbledore spoke to Hermione, “If the second wisest Hogwarts student of the 20th century could return from the dead, I suppose it stands to reason that the number one student would be able to do so as well...”

Hermione thought for a moment, “Neither of us was truly dead.”

“Good point, good point.” Dumbledore admitted.

Barrister Beaumont finished reading the document. “Everything is appropriate here, Hermione.”

Harry started to argue but the Barrister cut him off before he could really get a word in. “Harry, we only have a short amount of time before the judge returns, let me explain.” Harry let him speak. “I know this sounds ominous but if he totally closes out the case based only on what is known today, what if it turns out she was a the leader of some big ‘eye of newt’ smuggling ring and the name change was to hide from that? This clause is usual and customary.”

“What if they start coming after her weekly on a whim?” Harry asked.

The Barrister answered, “There is recourse against that kind of prosecution, Harry. Private citizens don’t have to put up with it, and someone who is friends with you and your media connections certainly wouldn’t have to.” He turned to Hermione. “How do you feel about this?”

Hermione gave a half smile. “I would have preferred no crime be involved, but I’m comfortable with it. As soon as the judge comes back, I’ll sign.”

The Barrister opened the door and noticed that the judge was nearby. He motioned that they were ready. As soon as the judge was behind his desk again, Hermione signed the last paper and it disappeared.

“You have one week to pay your fine.” The judge stated. “An owl will be sent with further instructions. Now if you don’t mind, I’m about to venture into a legal grey area. I’m heading for the sweet shop and the collectables shop to buy as many Chocolate Frogs as I can afford, and then to buy Hermione Granger Chocolate Frog Cards that still list a death date before this hits the Daily Profit!”

They left the office. Hermione’s and Barrister Beaumont’s mouths were wide open in shock. Harry was holding back laughter and Professor Dumbledore’s eyes were sparkling!

Once the judge was out of hearing distance, Hermione expressed her distaste, “That has got to be the most unethical...”

At the exact same time Barrister Beaumont spouted, “I should report him to the committee on...”

At this point, Harry burst with hysterical laughter to the point where it shut up both Hermione and the Barrister. “WHAT?” They both asked.

Harry tried to calm down; he was almost hyperventilating from laughing so hard. “I didn’t have the...heart to tell...him...deserves...what he gets...chocolate stomach ache...Chocolate Frog Cards...Magic...update...magically...” Harry smiled and took a few deep breaths so he could finish his explanation. “In other words, once the Chocolate Frog people update their information, he’s going to be stuck with a bunch of cards that have the new information without the death date, just like all the new cards up out after the news gets out. All that money wasted!” Harry laughed.

Hermione giggled for a moment then stopped. “Wait a minute, what do you mean, wasted. He’ll have all those cards of me!” She grinned and Harry couldn’t resist kissing her. They forgot where they were for a moment, and came back to earth when they heard Barrister Beaumont clearing his throat.

“Excuse us.” Harry said as they separated.

Hermione held out her hand and Barrister Beaumont shook it. “Thank you, Sir. For your both your representation and your work in helping Harry find me.”

“It was a pleasure. I don’t think I was ever part of an investigation that seems to have had such a happy ending.” Barrister Beaumont observed. He shook Harry’s hand and left the area.

Dumbledore twinkled at the two of them. “I’ve known thousands and thousands of young people in my time and you two were always special. Harry, you would have been special even without that scar on your forehead.”

Hermione contradicted, “We’re in our 50’s Professor, we’re hardly ‘young people’.”

“I’m 192 Hermione dear, if I wish to still refer to you as a mere child, I would expect you to indulge me. However, I would not subject you to such an indignity.”

Hermione questioned, “I always had this feeling deep down that you alone knew I was still out there, but were respecting my need for privacy, is there any truth to that?”

“Perhaps on some level.” Dumbledore answered. “Once your whole family and extended family was lost in the war before we could get them to safety I felt extra paternal feelings for you. When word got back and you were gone and the Aurors were unable to recover your remains, I never had a sense of closure with you. I attributed it to our failure with your family and I also knew of Harry’s feelings towards you even if he didn’t at the time. Then above my personal feelings, there was my feelings of loss for society as well.” He paused for a moment. “If I had never allowed myself to feel any sort of personal attachment, I would have instantly known you were alive, but with that connection, I couldn’t detach it from human wishful thinking.”

Hermione’s eyes were watering.

“I also became quite familiar with Solonge Malfoy’s work. Not putting it together at that point was another embarrassment, but then I was happy to see the Malfoy name in a good light.” Dumbledore. “I now understand one of your next projects is Hogwarts: A History. I’d like to think that I would have put those two clues together, but I’m an old man...”

Harry had a question. “Are there any surviving British Malfoy’s?”

“Actually, yes, but not by that name.” Dumbledore answered. “Draco went into hiding during the war and didn’t join the dark side and never received the Dark Mark. After the war, he became an Auror and now has some sort of desk job. His family fortune was seized during the war, but he is now a typical wizard middle class working stiff and seems to be none the worse for it. He works under a different legal identity for obvious reasons.

Harry thanked Professor Dumbledore. “Thank you for trusting me to arrive without questioning me. We needed a witness with no previous knowledge of the situation. That judge was really bullying Hermione quite a bit too!”

“I gathered that when he didn’t allow her to answer my question. Sometimes I miss youth and the promise of years of tomorrows, and there are other times when I just adore being old and being able to tell someone like that where to go in so many words!” Dumbledore admitted.

Hermione asked, “Do you ever wish you had saved a piece of the Philosopher’s Stone just to see how things turn out?”

Dumbledore smiled, “Every once in a while, dear. And then people like you come along, and I know the world will be in good hands. And with that, I must take my leave.”

This time, Hermione was the one to reach up and kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you, sir. I’d be honored for you to fill a parental role for me any time it’s needed.”

Harry shook Dumbledore’s hand. “Thank you, sir.”

“Your welcome, Harry,” was all they said. No other words were needed between them.

As Dumbledore walked away, Harry swept Hermione up into his arms in a huge hug and swung her around in a circle!

“We are celebrating!” Harry stated!

Hermione smiled, “That sounds good to me!”

Harry grinned and told Hermione his plan. “I want you to go to Gladrags, and I want you to pick out the most amazing dress you can find! I don’t care what it costs. Don’t look at price tags, just look at dresses. If after you pick it out you decide it’s too much, I’ll buy it for you! Buy shoes to match, get your hair and makeup done and have your things sent back to your home and I’ll pick you up in front of the store in two hours.”

Hermione interrupted “Um, Harry. I will need you to pay, but I can pay you back. I don’t have a line of credit in the store under the name of Hermione Granger.”

“Good point. OK. I’ll come in the store with you at first to set things up so they treat you like a princess once you are in the store.”

Hermione’s eyes were now wide. “Why?”

“Witches Weekly’s ‘Most Eligible Batchelor’ and Miss Hermione Granger are about to make their debut for the tabloid paparazzi by having a night of dining and dancing to remember on Diagon Alley!”

Hi Readers,

Please don't review this chapter because I'll be deleting it once I have a real chapter to replace it and that will remove any reviews posted. I would love any comments you have, so if you would like to review, please review the previous chapter. Thank you!

I'm taking a little break from this story because the NC-17 bug has bitten me by and it's taken the form of a 7^th year story that I started earlier that is now available on AFF.net (same pen name). An earlier version was on FF.net but this has been revised quite a bit has more chapters. There is a lot of Hermione/Harry desire in it, and it seems to be getting good feed back, but even though I know where all of the action/adventure/war portions of the story are going doing to the last detail and I even plan some Ron/Luna goodness, there is still some confusion in my head as to whether Hermione will end up with Draco or Harry in this one, so it won't be a Portkey story. Once a get a few more chapters into the NC-17 story, I'll get back to work on this one.

Thanks for sticking with me. You're friend in Pumpkin Pie Goodness

Hermione Cosplayer

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