His Nearest and Dearest by PixieDust

Rating: PG13
Genres: Drama, Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 20/03/2004
Last Updated: 29/10/2004
Status: In Progress

First, I own nothing. Inspired by JKR's chat in which she said that Harry would tell
"his nearest and dearest" about the prophecy. Hermione won't let Harry go through his
loss alone. He spends part of the summer with her family on a vacation. Fluff ensues. They must
return to the UK to take drastic steps to thwart Voldemort's latest threat. Dumbledore is
pulling strings like a puppeteer and Harry will soon learn what "the power he knows not"
really is.




1. untitled
-----------

PART 1



"I'm a fool," Harry derided himself as silent tears slipped from his eyes, over
his ears and onto the pillow on which he was laying. He'd been asking himself how he could have
fallen for Voldemort's plans to use Sirius as bait; why he had risked the lives of his friends;
why he had lost Sirius; why he had to be the one.



The weight of the world, or the wizarding world anyway, truly rested on his shoulders. Kill or
be killed. Those were his options. He despised Voldemort because he was a murderer. The only way to
defeat him was to become a murderer himself. There was a battle raging within his psyche. Could he
be what he abhorred? Did he have the strength?



All this was locked inside him. There was certainly no one on Privet Drive to whom he could
speak about such things. It was bad enough that he was a freak. The Dursleys did not need to know
he was a potential killer in addition to being a freak. He was cut off from everyone he loved, not
that he could burden Hermione or the Weasleys with this. He couldn't write to Sirius anymore.
He was gone. "It's my fault," he told himself. "I already am a murderer."
With that conclusion, sobs racked his body. He was alone and miserable with no where to turn.



Miles away, but also in the Muggle world, Hermione sat at a tidy oak desk in her bedroom. She
was worried about Harry. In fact, worrying about Harry seemed to occupy most of her thoughts these
days. She couldn't even divert her thoughts with *The Guide to Common Magical Quick Home
Remedies.* It seemed there was nothing inside it that addressed the issues of a wounded heart or
a tormented soul. She sighed loudly, taking out a quill to begin a letter to Harry... a letter she
doubted he would ever see if his blasted Uncle had any say in the matter.



"Hermione, what's the matter, dear?" A woman asked, passing her doorway. Her arms
were loaded with freshly folded towels.



"I'm so worried about Harry, Mom. And his uncle confiscates his mail sometime. I want
him to know how much I care and I'm not sure he'll get my message."



Mrs. Granger set the towels on her bed and beckoned her daughter to sit next to her. "You
really love him, don't you?" she asked perceptively.



Hermione felt her face turning a burning red. "Mom," she sputtered. "We're...
we're just friends."



"Honey, your father and I were 'just friends' once too. You're awfully devoted
to him to be just his friend."



"You don't know the half of it," Hermione sighed, thinking of their past
adventures. It was true. Her mother didn't know the half of it, probably not even an eighth of
what her studious responsible daughter did while off at school. Of course Hermione had told them
about Harry's heroics, but she often found ways to leave herself out of the more dangerous
parts of the stories.



"We can look up his phone number if you don't have it," Mrs. Granger offered.
"I'm sure his uncle will let him use the phone if it's not costing him
anything."



"Maybe. I'm really worried about him, Mom. Something bad happened at the end of last
year and then we all had to leave school. He hasn't had time to deal with it yet. He needs me,
Mom. I know he does. He doesn't have anyone who cares about him there."



Mrs. Granger smiled at her daughter. Hermione was in love. It was in her words, her expression,
and her commitment. Maybe it was time she met this Harry Potter she'd heard so much about.



"Don't you worry, dear. We'll find a way for you and Harry to talk."








2. PART 2
---------

PART 2





Harry thought nothing of it when the telephone rang while he was staring at his breakfast--a
slice of plain toast and a glass of skim milk. Dudley was still on a diet. However, he was grateful
for the food. It was more than he was used to having at the Dursley residence.



Aunt Petunia gave a harsh look before she said, "Yes. Hold on please," and turned to
Harry. "It's for you," she scowled.



"For me?" he asked, standing. "Hello?" he said unsurely into the phone.



"Hermione!" he exclaimed after hearing the sweet feminine voice that greeted him. It
wasn't lost any of the Dursleys, staring at him as they were, that this was the first genuine
smile they had seen on his face in a very long time.



"Who'd be calling him?" Uncle Vernon barked at Petunia, annoyed.



"It was a girl," Petunia muttered. She couldn't remember what the girl had said
her name was.



"A witch, you mean," Vernon huffed. "I'll not have it!" he exclaimed
angrily, pounding his fist on the table hard enough to make his toast jump on it's plate.



"At least she didn't use an owl," Petunia offered. Somewhere deep inside she was
actually glad to see her nephew smile. Vernon was silenced by this.



"Um, yeah," Harry was saying when the Dursleys refocused on him. Hermione had just
asked if he was all right.



"You're lying, aren't you?" she asked. Her voice did not sound accusatory, but
rather concerned.



"Um, yeah," he repeated.



"They're in the room, aren't they?" she deducted.



"Right." His voice was flat. He didn't want the Dursleys to know he was talking
about them.



"I really miss you," Hermione said seriously.



"I really miss you too," Harry replied which caused Dudley to mimic him in a high
pitched voice. Harry shot him a deadly look.



"Look, Harry, my mom wants to talk to your aunt. Put her on, will you?"



"She does?" Harry turned to his aunt. "Aunt Petunia, Dr. Granger would like to
speak with you." He decided to use her title since it would impress his aunt.



"Doctor?" Petunia repeated, as she rose from the table.



"She's a Muggle, a dentist," Harry explained giving the phone to his aunt. He
hoped that would be enough information to ensure Petunia was not rude to the woman.



"Oh," Petunia responded, taking the phone. "This is Petunia Dursley."



"Mrs. Dursley, this is Jane Granger. It's so nice to speak with you," she gushed
as Hermione faked gagging. Jane turned from her daughter to keep from laughing. "How are you,
Mrs. Dursley? I hope all is well."



"Very well, thank you. And yourself?" Petunia replied curtly. The woman certainly
seemed normal enough.



"Splendid. Thanks for asking," Jane responded. "Mrs. Dursley, as you know, your
nephew and my daughter have been best friends since first year." Jane knew that the woman had
no clue, but carried on as if she thought Petunia was a wonderful guardian who cared deeply about
the affairs of her charge.



"Um, of course," Petunia answered, actually surprised that Harry had a best friend who
was a girl. She thought all his friends were red-headed hoodlums.



"Anyway, Mrs. Dursley, My husband and I--he's a dentist too--are going to a convention
in the United States soon. We're taking Hermione with us and would love for Harry to accompany
her. It would be dreadful for her to be stuck alone in a foreign country while her father and I are
at the meetings. I know you just got Harry back for the summer and I'm sure you've missed
him and were looking forward to spending some quality time with him, but if you could bear to part
with him, we would love to have him join us, for Hermione's sake, you know." Her words
rushed out in one very long sentence. "We'll gladly pay all his expenses. It's really
not a burden. And, of course, I will personally make sure that the children behave themselves--none
of that silly magic allowed. They'll have to act like *normal* kids," she stressed
*normal* for effect.



"Well, I'll have to discuss it with my husband," Petunia offered. "How long
would he be gone?"



Harry's spirit lifted at the idea of being "gone" but he refused to let it show on
his face.



"Of course," Jane agreed. "Tell you what, give me a good time and I'll call
you back for your answer. If Harry can go, we will pick him up so that you can meet us. You'll
know it's us when we arrive. We have a pewter colored mini-van."



"All right then. I'll talk it over with my husband before he leaves for work. You can
call back in an hour. Thank you for inviting Harry to go with you," she said politely.



Jane had covered her bases very well: normal man, normal woman, normal mode of transportation,
and no magic allowed. It wasn't an accident that Hermione was the smartest witch at Hogwarts.
"It's been lovely speaking with you, Mrs. Dursley. I do hope we can chat again soon."
With that, she hung up the phone and told Hermione to keep her fingers crossed for the next
hour.





3. PART 3
---------

Harry could hardly contain his excitement as he waited for the Grangers to arrive in their
perfectly normal mini-van. His aunt and uncle had reluctantly agreed to allow him to make the trip
since Hermione's mother seemed to be normal, wouldn't allow magic, and it would get him out
of their house for over a month. The positive of being rid of him outweighed the negative of his
actually enjoying his summer holiday. He had his trunk packed and Hedwig's cage sitting next to
it. A bath towel was draped over the cage so she would be quiet and to disguise her as he
transported her to the van. Petunia figured that anyone who happened to see him with a large
covered cage would assume he had a budgie. That was a normal enough pet.



The plan was that he would stay with the Grangers a few days before they left for New Orleans.
They would pick him up, impress their bland normalcy upon the Dursleys, and then return to
Hermione's home.



It seemed to take forever for that mini-van to arrive on Privet Drive, but Harry was elated when
it finally did. All the Dursleys were dressed in their finest clothes and they'd bought Harry a
pair of jeans and two shirts from a second hand shop that almost fit. Dudley's clothes were so
large now that Harry could have used them for bedclothes more efficiently than for himself. He was
wearing the jeans and a green button-down shirt. He was glad he wouldn't look like a bag lady
when he met Hermione's parents.



Harry answered the door almost before Hermione had a chance to press the bell. She enveloped him
in a hug the moment she saw him. Harry squeezed her tightly, finding the scent of her hair made him
feel like he was home. He broke away, a bit embarrassed that the Dursleys were watching and
judging. Behind Hermione were a tall, lean woman with short bushy brown hair and a shorter man with
black hair. Both were dressed in power-suits. "Come in, please." Harry motioned them
inside.



"This is my, uh, family," he said in an overly polite manner. Hermione knew the word
*family* was as fake as a wooden knut. "This is my Aunt Petunia, my mother's sister.
This is Uncle Vernon and my cousin Dudley."



"Nice to meet you all," Hermione said softly as she extended her hand to each of them.
She was taken aback at the sheer size of the two male Dursleys. If she allowed herself to think
about how she'd noticed Harry always came back from summer looking as though he'd lost
weight, it would have made her very angry. She turned those thoughts off, not allowing herself to
fume. *Normal. Normal. Normal.* She repeated her mantra. She too was wearing jeans and a soft
pink t-shirt with white trainers.



All of them were eyeing her closely, particularly Dudley. It was unnerving, really. She
didn't like being looked at that way.



Hermione turned to her own parents. "These are my parents John and Jane Granger."



"It's so nice to finally meet you Mrs. Dursley," Jane said, offering her hand.
"You're every bit as lovely as you sound over the phone." Well, she was. "And
what a beautiful home!" Jane continued. She extended a parcel to Petunia. "Just a little
gift."



"Why, thank you," Petunia practically stuttered as she took the box.



"Well, go on, open it!" Jane said excitedly.



"Um, yes, of course," Petunia tore at the paper and revealed a box of chocolates.



"They're sugar free, of course. Better for the teeth that way--not to mention the hips,
you know," she giggled like a school girl. "I hope you'll enjoy them."



"They're wonderful," Petunia said. Dudley was eyeing them already. He didn't
care if they were sugar free—they were still better than apples.



John Granger had pulled Vernon to the side and was asking him about his business affairs. It was
obvious to Harry that the Grangers knew how to work a room. He loved them instantly.



Harry took Hermione to the side, by the staircase, to talk with her privately. "Thank you
so much," he said. He had one hand on her arm, just making comfortable contact.



She smiled at him and then noticed the door. "What's in there?" she asked.



"Oh, that's my cupboard." It was odd that he still thought of it as *his*
cupboard. He hadn't had to sleep there in a few years now. But it was the only thing that ever
felt like it was really his in this house.



"Oh," she said sadly. Harry's having to sleep in a cupboard until he was eleven
was another of those things she couldn't afford to think about at the moment, otherwise she
would fly into a rage and probably hex the whole Dursley clan. She knew quite a few good ones,
afterall. *Normal. Normal. Normal,* she started again.



The Grangers and Dursleys talked pleasantly for a few more minutes before Mr. Granger turned to
the kids and announced that they should be running along. It would take two hours to drive home.
They thanked the Dursleys for their hospitality, assured them that Harry would be perfectly safe in
their care, and helped him load his things into the van.



Harry and Hermione got into the back seat and fastened their seat-belts. Harry didn't even
wave goodbye as the van left Privet Drive.





4. PART 4
---------

PART 4



Hermione was dying to talk to Harry, really talk to him, but knew she had to delay it for the
two hour trip home. She couldn't very well bring up what happened at the Ministry of Magic in
front of (or behind, as the case was) her parents. She knew from the distant look in Harry's
eyes that his thoughts dwelled on Sirius. She caught his eye and gave a sympathetic smile. He
returned it, silently thanking her. She wasn't sure what made her do it, but Hermione took
Harry's hand in her own and held it. It was a way for her to say she cared and she understood
without a word.



Her parents asked questions about school and Hermione knew Harry didn't really want to talk,
so she gave a huge yawn and declared that it would be great to take a nap on the way home. "I
hardly slept at all last night," she explained. "I was too excited about going to get
Harry today."



"So now that he's here, you're going to fall asleep on him?" John laughed.



"Oh, John!" Jane laughed. "Of course she is, honey. Now that Harry is here,
all's right with the world."



Hermione turned very pink. Here she was holding Harry's hand and her mother dared to say
that.



"Just about," Harry said, squeezing her hand tightly as if to say, *You're not
going anywhere*. "I didn't sleep much last night either to tell you the truth."
It's hard to sleep when your mind is tormenting you playing the scene of your godfather falling
to his death because of you.



Hermione leaned against Harry's shoulder and they both were quiet the rest of the way. It
was a comfortable silence for them. They didn't need words or small talk. They had each other
and that was all they needed.



When they arrived at the Grangers, Harry noticed lights were already on. He wondered if they had
left them on or if someone was inside. As it turned out, Hermione's grandmother was inside
baby-sitting the youngest Granger, Juliette.



"My mom has a thing for Shakespeare," Hermione explained, her own name having derived
from one of his plays. Julie was a bushy haired, big teethed, 8 year old who looked like a
mini-Hermione prior to her magical tooth repair. "Julie hates to travel. She gets terrible
motion sickness. She's not going to the States with us. But she's very excited about
spending 3 weeks being spoiled rotten by Gram." Hermione hugged her grandmother. "This is
Harry Potter," she said introducing them.



"It's nice to meet you, Harry," said Eloise Granger. "I'm so glad you
could make the trip with my granddaughter." It wasn't lost on Harry that she did the
typical glance at his forehead. He chided himself for being so self-conscious about people knowing
who he was. Eloise Granger was a Muggle. Unless Hermione had told her she wouldn't know what
the ugly scar meant.



"Me too," said Harry smiling. He looked around the Granger's house. It was a very
nice two-story with beige carpeting and white painted walls. It appeared that each room had a
wallpaper border which coordinated with the curtains. The furniture was in the living room was
primarily cherry wood and leather. It looked expensive. "Thanks for saying you'll take
care of Hedwig for me," he told her. Hermione had informed him that her grandmother was going
to be staying at their house while they were gone and would be glad to take care of his owl.



"It's no trouble, dear." She said. "My grandmother had a pet owl. I grew up
learning the," she paused for a moment searching for a word, "Peculuarities of
owls."



She caught his eye knowingly. He raised one eyebrow quizzingly.



"Well, come on, Harry. Let's get your trunk upstairs." Hermione tugged on his
sleeve, distracting him from Eloise. Each took one side and they carried it to a guest bedroom that
was next to Hermione's. "We're next door" she said. "In fact, we'll
share a bathroom, so if you want to sneak across to talk, you can anytime. Oh, and put the seat
down," she instructed, making Harry laugh. "I mean it, Harry. If you don't put the
seat down, Crookshanks will drink from the toilet. Even *I* put the seat down."



His bed was covered with a hunter green and navy blue comforter in the same geometric design as
the curtains.



"Where is the old fleabag anyway?" Harry asked, earning a jab in the ribs.



"Probably curled up on my bed."



"So, is your grandmother.... I mean was her grandmother a witch?"



Hermione nodded. "I had to get it from somewhere," she shrugged. "Gram had always
told me fascinating stories about her grandmother. To be honest, I thought she was a bit off her
rocker for a while," Hermione laughed.



"What about Julie?" Harry asked.



"She's not really showing any signs of magic yet. It's a shame. I think she'd
make a very good witch."



"Not as good as her sister." Harry found that he had placed one arm around
Hermione's back. He wanted to be close to her. It was almost like he wanted to make sure she
was real. Amid the swirling images of Sirius's death, there were always images of Hermione
lying motionless on the floor. Again, his fault. His stupidity. He could have lost everyone that
meant anything to him that night. And he was realizing just how high Hermione was on that list.



Hermione noticed that he had his arm around her. How could she not? But it was so comfortable.
It felt so right. Somewhere inside she told herself that she should be nervous and uncomfortable
like she was when Krum touched her like that. But it was the farthest thing from the way she felt.
Something about Harry's touch was peaceful. It was right. It fit.



"We should go down and get ready for dinner. I'm sure Gram cooked already."





5. PART 5
---------

PART 5

Harry and Hermione joined the family for dinner, then spent the rest of their first evening
together sitting in the living room with her family watching a movie. Hermione wanted to take Harry
aside and get him to talk with her, but she didn't have the heart to do it. She didn't want
to make him feel cornered into talking about how he was feeling. So, they enjoyed the comedy,
stayed up entirely too late, then went to bed.



The next day, the Grangers took the kids to buy things for their trip. They seemed to know that
Harry's only Muggle clothes didn't fit him well and he could use some proper garments. It
was annoying to be pitied, but it was good that they understood and didn't make an issue of it.
The only money Harry had was a bag of galleons stored in his trunk. The Grangers had exchanged it
for him since they claimed that Hermione would need galleons later in the year anyway and that the
Gringots bank would charge them for exchanging Muggle money into wizard money. Harry was sure they
over valued his galleons, but they were very stubborn about the amount they gave him. He insisted
that they would take more galleons when they got back from the trip to cover his expenses. They
argued that their thriving business was paying for the trip and it was not necessary for Harry to
spend his money. The Grangers begrudgingly compromised in saying they would allow Harry to more
galleons to Hermione when they went back to Hogwarts.



He was able to buy several pairs of jeans and shirts and got himself a desperately needed new
pair of trainers. He also got a proper Muggle-looking suitcase in which to put his new clothes. His
trunk wasn't exactly an approved method of transport by British Airways. Harry's theory
that the shopping trip was for his benefit was confirmed when Hermione only bought one shirt the
entire day.



"We just came so I could shop, didn't we?" he asked, feeling a bit guilty. He
should have figured that out by the fact that Hermione's suitcases were already packed when
he'd first gotten there.

"Oh, no. I'm supposed to buy new clothes too. But, I'd rather wait until we're
actually in the States so I can buy some stuff over there," she told him.



Harry nodded. It was a likely story.



Hermione's mother had made them go to bed very early so that they could get up at 4:00 in
the morning to travel to the airport. It was going to be a long day ahead.



About 11:00, Hermione crept into the bathroom. She hadn't been able to sleep for the
butterflies in her stomach. She wondered if he was wide awake with excitement too. She was just
going to open the door and peek in enough to see if he was still up. She didn't turn the light
in the bathroom on because she didn't want it to wake him if he was asleep. She pushed the
joining door open just a bit. When she did, she heard Harry's muffled crying. He was lying on
his side, facing the opposite wall.



Her instinct was to rush to him and hold him, but she stopped herself. She'd given him the
option to come talk to him at anytime. She didn't want to intrude on this private moment. But
she didn't want Harry to feel alone either. If she disturbed him, he might be angry and
embarrassed. If she left him, he might feel hopeless and guilty about things he couldn't
control. She wasn't sure how long she weighed the possibilities before her compassion for the
boy led her right to his bedside.



"Harry," she whispered, kneeling beside the bed. He hadn't heard her come in.



He looked up at her, shocked that she was there. "I... I... didn't mean to wake
you," he told her. "I'm, uh, sorry." He quickly wiped his face with the palm of
his hand and sat up.



"You didn't wake me," she told him. "I couldn't sleep. Scoot over."
She motioned for him to give her room to sit on the bed with him. He obliged and Hermione sat down
with him. "Want to talk about it?" she asked.



He shrugged. "What good will it do?" There was hopelessness in his voice, as if he
thought the pain would never go away.



"I don't know. I just want to help." She wrapped an arm around his shoulders.



"It's my fault he's dead, you know," Harry began. He was staring away from
Heriome, unable to face her.



"No, Harry, it's not. It's Voldemort's fault. Bellatrix's fault."



"He only came because I was in trouble."



"And you only went to the Ministry because you thought he was in trouble," she
reminded him.



"If I'd done the occlumency properly, it wouldn't have happened."



"Voldemort would have found another way to get you there." She was certain of
that.



"How do I go on knowing that Sirius died because of me? That you could have been killed
because of me? You and Ron, Neville, Ginny, Luna... even Dumbledore and the others. I was so
stupid, Hermione."



"We all made our own choice to go after you Harry. You wanted to go without us. You know
that. You did what you thought was right--and so did we."



"I miss him so much, Hermione," Harry buried his face against her shoulder. "He
was the only family I had and he died because of me." Tears were flowing freely again.
"Everyone I love, Hermione... they're all in danger because of me. My parents were killed
because Voldemort wanted to kill me. Sirius was killed because of me. Even Cedric who was just in
the wrong place at the wrong time was killed because of me." Harry was sobbing again. The pain
in his heart spread all through his body, tormenting him. He understood what the phrase
"broken heart" meant. It hurt that bad, just like his heart was being ripped apart.



"No, Harry. They died because of Voldemort. Every one of them. It was him. You've never
done anything to intentionally hurt anyone. It's not your fault that a psychotic evil wizard is
after you." She stroked his back as he cried, hoping her touch was comforting.



"I can't loose you," his tear filled green eyes met hers. "If you're
close to me, he'll kill you too." That was Harry's deepest fear, not having to face
Voldemort, not that he himself could be killed, but that Hermione could be hurt.



"I will never desert you, Harry. Not for anything. When you face Voldemort, I'll be
right beside you the whole way," she promised.

"You can't," he argued. "It doesn't... you can't... it has to
be...." He couldn't say what he wanted. He couldn't bear to tell her that he had to
kill Voldemort or die trying. And he couldn't put her in the crossfire. "No, Hermione.
Stay away from him. You should probably stay away from me too. It's the only way you'll be
safe."



Tears were in her own eyes now. "Harry, don't you know... I can't abandon you. I
wouldn't. Don't even ask me to."



He hugged her tightly as if he were holding on for dear life. His lonliness was unbearable
sometimes. And, yet, he wanted to keep away the one person who made sure he wasn't alone
through this pain just to keep her safe. But he didn't have the strength to push her away. He
needed her desperately. She made the pain more bearable.



Hermione stroked his back softly, reassuringly. He nestled against her, breathing in the scent
of her hair. Harry found the outline of her jaw to be beautifully inviting and he pressed his lips
to her her cheek. Hermione turned into the sensation and met his lips with her own. As their lips
touched, the pain in Harry's heart subsided. He closed his eyes giving into the need to be
nearer to her, to taste her, to share himself with her. It was a sweet, gentle kiss born of sorrow.
But it brought comfort, even happiness. It was... right.



"Don't ever leave me," Harry whispered to her. Even though the danger was great,
he couldn't bear the thought of her not being by his side. In fact, she was the only thing that
made him want to carry on with what he was bound to do.



"I won't, Harry. I couldn't," she told him. "I... I... love you."
Her eyes engaged his, putting everything on the line.



"I love you too, Hermione," he responded without hesitation. He knew the moment she
was hurt in the Ministry that she meant more to him than he'd ever realized. He kissed her
again, more passionately. He had never before needed another person this much. They were both
crying. The tears were part joy and part sadness. They were part loss, but the loss was making room
for what they had just found--each other.





6. PART 6
---------

A/N: OOPS! I just realized that it says earlier that they're going to New Orleans. That was
the first plan. I'm not sure yet out to edit a previously posted chapter, but they're
starting off in Atlantic City, NJ.



PART 6



Jane Granger found her daughter curled against Harry when she went to wake them up. They were
fully clothed and she trusted her daughter, so she didn't have the urge to strangle them. She
had peaked in on Harry the first night he was there and heard him crying. She speculated that
Hermione had found the same last night. She wasn't sure what had happened at the end of the
school year, but Hermione had made it clear that it was terrible and something that hurt Harry
badly. The whole point for Harry being there was to help him get over this terrible thing, whatever
it was. After meeting the Dursleys, Jane knew that they were callous toward the boy. She had had no
respect for those people ever since Hermione had asked for food to send to Harry years prior. She
couldn't find it in her heart to begrudge them the comfort they gave one another.



She decided to not embarass them by waking them up. Instead, she went into Hermione's room
and made her alarm clock blare loudly. That would get them out of bed.



In about 30 minutes, both teens were downstairs, dressed and ready to go. Both had puffy eyes.
Mrs. Granger thought they both looked like they'd had a rough night and it wasn't simply a
case of not sleeping. Eyes only looked like that after many tears had been shed.



"You both look awful," she commented as they sat at the table in the kitchen.
"It's a good thing we loaded the van yesterday."



Hermione yawned. "How can you be this happy this early in the morning?" she asked. She
was glad that her alarm had gone off before anyone found them in bed together. Even if it was
innocent, she didn't want to explain things. Funny, she didn't remember setting her
alarm.



"Honey, we're going to America! We're going to have a great time!" Jane was
practically bubbling with excitement.



Hermione grunted. Harry caught her eye and gave her a smile. She couldn't help but return
it. Her mood brightened greatly seeing him smile.



Harry had had the most peaceful few hours of rest that he could remember. He thought he could
have stayed with Hermione like that forever. But he was very eager to arrive in the USA too. He was
looking forward to a holiday from his life in England. No one in the USA was likely to know who he
was or why he had a scar on his forehead.



Within the next half hour, they had left for the airport. Harry and Hermione snoozed on the way.
Harry found airport security to be very thorough. His stomach was in a lurch from the excitement.
He wondered if flying on a plane would be as exciting as flying on a broom.



The plane had 5 seats in each row, two on one side and three on the other. Harry and Hermione
were together in a row with Harry by the window. He offered the window seat to Hermione, but she
said she didn't want it. She wasn't looking forward to flying and thought it would be
easier to ignore that that was exactly what she was doing if she didn't look down and see the
Atlantic Ocean.



"Floatation device?" she whispered to Harry as the flight attendant gave instructions.
She felt nauseated. The next thing she knew the woman at the head of the plane was showing them
where the little bags were. "Well, isn't that convenient," she muttered.



Harry laughed. "You'll be fine," he told her, taking her hand. "I'll hold
your hand the whole way. And if worse comes to worse, we'll get out our wands and cast a great
big wingardium leviosa."



"Don't even joke about it, Harry." She took his hand, squeezing it tightly. Her
heart was racing.



"Airplanes are safer than cars. I'm sure you've read that," he teased.



"I'll just be glad when we can apparate to New Jersey."



Jane Granger noticed that her daughter was holding Harry's hand and looking terrified. She
was the one being comforted this time. She smiled watching them. Harry was good for her. Hermione
had never been comfortable with other children. She was always unsure of her looks and tended to
make a bad first impression. She tried too hard to make up for her insecurities by flaunting the
one area where she was secure--her intelligence. It was obvious that Harry cared about her and
respected her intelligence. Jane would guess, based on the way he smiled at her, that he found her
to be pretty too. She knew Hermione thought that Harry was brave, loyal, noble, caring, and smarter
than he gave himself credit for being. She'd never mentioned his looks though. They had a
relationship that went far deeper than the superficial.



After they had been in the air for a while, the flight attendant came by offering cookies,
pretzels, and drinks. "You're such a cute couple," she told them. "First time to
the States?"



"Yes, it is," Harry answered. "She's a little nervous."



"Don't worry, dear. I've been flying for 20 years and the worst I've
experienced is some nasty turbulence. The hardest part of flying will be changing planes when we
get to Atlanta if you're going somewhere else." She patted Hermione's shoulder.
"But it is a nice excuse to hold that cutie-pie's hand, isn't it?"



True to her word, changing planes in Atlanta was worse than the trip to Georgia. She overheard
someone telling his companion that if someone was flying to hell he would have to change planes in
Atlanta.



"This is a nightmare!" Hermione sighed. "Why don't they put all the
connecting flights next to each other? They could put the British Air flights in one place, all the
Delta flights in another, all the American in another?. And why didn't we fly into New York
City or Newark and then take another plane to Atlantic City? This is stupid!" They went from
plane to conveyer belt to train to get from their arriving gate to their departing gate.



"Tell you what, when we get back to London, write them a letter." Harry said, almost
out of breath as they ran toward the next gate. They had an hour and a half between flights, which
they thought would be more than enough time, but they found themselves sprinting to get to their
flight on time. Their seats were being called as they arrived.



"Insanity!" Hermione huffed when she finally had her seat belt fastened and could take
a steady breath. Contrasting with the plane from England, this one was very small with just 4
people per row and only about a dozen rows. "What? Are we taking a crop duster?" she
wasn't sure she liked this plane. It was making her feel clausterphobic.



"We'll be fine. We're be there in no time." Harry took her hand again. His own
felt empty without hers.



The connecting flight did seem very short, compared to flying across the Atlantic. Harry
encouraged Hermione to look out the window, down at the clouds. She finally gave in and was
marveled by the beauty of it all.



"It looks like a field of marshmallows," she commented. "It's so
pretty."



"You can sit next to the window next time, if you want," he promised.



"As long as I'm next to you, it doesn't matter."



It was a quick trip up the eastern seaboard. They landed smoothly in Atlantic City. The four of
them were astonished at the difference in the airport compared to London or Atlanta. "This has
got to be the smallest airport in the world," Hermione commented. As they passed a newsstand,
Harry pointed out a t-shirt that said, "Welcome to New Jersey. Now go home." They all
laughed.



"I'll have to get one of those before we leave," Harry said.



They collected their baggage and hailed a cab. "The Borgata," John Granger told the
driver.



"Ah, nice place," he commented.



They checked into the hotel. Harry and Hermione were surprised that they were going to be
allowed to share a room. "We trust you," Jane said. "We'll have very different
schedules, especially the first week since your father and I will be at boring conventions. I know
you kids will want to stay up late and sleep late. You're responsible, smart, and you've
both been at boarding school for 5 years. We're sure you know how to behave. Most of all, we
trust that you're not the kind of kids who would abuse our trust," she said firmly.



"And Harry knows I'll kill him if he touches my daughter," John added
jovially.



"Cool!" Hermione grinned.



"So," John checked his watch that he'd set to Eastern Standard Time when they
arrived. "Let's get settled in our rooms and take some time to rest. We'll meet you in
4 hours and we'll go to dinner together."



They all agreed that getting some rest was a wonderful idea.





7. PART 7
---------

A/N: Artistic license is being taken here. The Borgata is a real luxury hotel, but it's
about 2 miles from the ocean. www.theborgata.com if you want to see where I've got them
staying.



PART 7



Beds had never seemed quite so inviting as they did when the teens got to their plush hotel
room. Hermione's parents, who were in a suite next to theirs, had told them they would come get
them in about four hours so they could all have dinner.



"This is fabulous!" Hermione said, gaping at the room. There were two full size beds
and a kitchenette. "Look at this view!" she exclaimed opening the curtains to the floor
to ceiling window. Harry joined her by the window. They were right on the ocean. The boardwalk was
just below.



Harry also thought the room and view were spectacular, but he was more interested in kicking off
his shoes, collapsing onto the nearest mattress, getting some much needed sleep. "Let's
get some sleep," he said as he fell onto the bed over-dramatically. He reached up to take her
hand, "You can lay down with me if you want."



Hermione considered the implications. She knew without a doubt Harry was not making an
inappropriate advance and that he would not make such an advance. She was sure that her parents
wouldn't walk in on them, not that there would be anything wrong with what they were doing.
They had been so close physically the past 24 hours or so that it felt like part of herself was
missing when she wasn't close to him. She wondered if he felt the same way. "Well, give me
some room," she said. "This is my side of the bed." Until then she didn't
realize she even had a side of the bed, but she wanted to be on Harry's left, just as she had
been the night before. Harry smiled and moved over. They didn't turn the covers back.



Harry barely touched his lips to hers. "Sweet dreams," he said.



Harry was lying on his back and Hermione was on her side with her head on his shoulder. He
inhaled the sweet fragrance of her hair. It cleared his mind and chased the nightmares away.
"I love you," he whispered.



"I love you too," she answered, closing her eyes and giving into the exhaustion.





8. PART 8
---------

PART 8

Harry yawned as he awoke. He was lying on his side and Hermione's arm was draped over him
and she was snuggled closely to him. "Mione, wake up," he whispered. He knew her parents
would be coming to get them in about an hour and thought they both ought to change. He turned over
to face her. "Wake up," he urged softly.

Her brown eyes fluttered open. "Hi, Harry," she said. Somewhere in the back of her mind
she thought she should have a different reaction to waking up in a bed with her arms around Harry.
How was it possible to so quickly ease from best friends to bed-mates? Or was it being best friends
that made the transition easy?

"I thought you might like to take a shower before we went out tonight," Harry said.
"You can go first," he added quickly less she think he was suggesting they shower
together.

"Good idea," she rolled onto her back. A shower would certainly make them both feel
better after such a long trip. "I suppose you're going to nap again while I'm
bathing?" she accused good naturedly.

"Yeah, probably," he answered. Hermione got out of bed, opened one of her suitcases and
found an outfit to wear that evening. As she walked by the bed, she leaned down to give Harry a
kiss on the forehead. "Miss me while I'm gone."

"Of course I will," he smiled up at her. Had anyone else touched his forehead he would
have been greatly annoyed. It seemed that every hour he was realizing another thing that applied to
Hermione, but not the rest of the world.

Left alone, Harry's thought turned back to Sirius, not that Sirius was ever far from his
thoughts. Yet, Hermione was distracting him from the constant torment he'd faced just a few
days prior. He didn't think he'd ever be able to thank her enough for getting him away from
the Dursleys. He wanted to do something really special for her. He thought of the way she held him
as he cried and the way she had said she loved him. She had no idea what it meant to him to be
loved and to be loved by her.

Harry took a shower and changed after Hermione. By the time her parents knocked on the door, both
looked and felt refreshed. They followed her parents to the elevator which they took to the lobby.
They had decided to eat at a restaurant in the hotel rather than venturing into the city. The
Grangers had to be up early to go to their convention.

"How long will you be in meetings tomorrow?" Hermione asked as they waited for their food
to arrive. Despite Harry's resistance, the Grangers had insisted that they would indeed pay for
his meals and the entire hotel bill. They had even given him quite a bit of cash to spend with the
promise that they'd let him pay them back in galleons for Hermione when they visited Gringots
again. It did not take long for Harry to realize that money was not an issue for Hermione's
family.

"Oh, all day, honey. And there's a dinner party afterwards, so you two will be on your own
all day tomorrow. We probably won't even see you, but do leave us voice mail to let us know if
you go somewhere and just to check in, okay?" They had given Hermione a cellular phone to use
to contact them.

"You watch out for my little girl, Harry," John added giving a protective look at his
daughter.

"I always do," Harry answered. "We look out for each other." They were sitting
in a rounded booth which had them almost secluded from the other patrons. The lights were kept low
and there were small lanterns on each table.

"Hmmm," sighed Jane. "It seems there have been plenty of adventures that Hermione
hasn't told us all about," she gave a knowing glance to Hermione. "But, don't
worry. We'll drag it all out of the two of you by the time this trip is over."

Harry and Hermione met each other's eyes. Even though Mrs. Granger sounded like she was joking,
he wasn't sure how funny her parents would find it if they knew that Harry's friendship had
put Hermione in danger every year. Of course they knew that she had been petrified in second year.
That was unavoidable. But did they know that she was targeted because she meant something to Harry?
Would they be so gracious if they knew how dangerous he was? Harry started to feel depressed again
as he recounted in his mind their many misadventures.

Hermione seemed to pick up on his depression instantly. "Hey, Harry, remember that time when
Malfoy insulted Ron's mother and you stood up for them, so he tried to hex you but Professor
Moody turned him into a ferret?"

A smile appeared on Harry's face as he pictured a bouncing white ferret. By the time they had
told the entire story to the Grangers, their food had arrived. Hermione steered talk of their
school adventures to things that could be laughed about in retrospect, like the disappearing bones
in Harry's arm or anything else related to Gilderoy Lockhart. By the end of the evening the
Grangers were commenting on how much fun it must be to attend Hogwarts.

"We had no idea," John laughed as he pictured a bogart Professor Snape in a dress.
"From the way Hermione studies all the time, we thought we might as well have sent her to
Oxford."

After they finished their meal, the two couples returned to their rooms. Exhaustion crept upon them
more quickly than they would have thought it would after their nap, so Harry and Hermione changed
into their night clothes and returned to their bed. It was an unspoken understanding that they
would be sharing one.

"Thanks for tonight," Harry said, stroking her cheek.

"What do you mean?" she asked. She gazed into his eyes, no longer covered with his
glasses.

"Talking about good times," he answered. "So often when I think of school, I think
about all the danger we've been in through the years and what's to come next. Thanks for
reminding me why Hogwarts is my home."

They kissed, enjoying each other but making no attempt to take things further. Harry respected
Hermione too much to move too fast and there were certain lines that their honor would not allow
either of them to cross.

"This is nice," Harry told her, pulling the cover over them. "I could get use to
this."

Hermione snuggled against him, "I already am," she answered.






9. PART 9
---------

Harry and Hermione slept very late the next day, never breaking contact with one another. When
Harry awoke, his hand was on her arm and her foot was against his leg. He considered these new
feelings. He thought it may have been the first time in his life that he had really gotten some
rest. He had never felt safe or comfortable at the Dursley's. Vernon or Dudley were as likely
to toss him about, pounce on him, pull his hair, or hit him as they were to look at him. And how
exactly would one go about getting comfortable in a cupboard? Since going to Hogwarts he had had to
digest all the information about his life, his parents, and the constant threat of Voldemort. He
wondered if this is what a proper holiday felt like or if this was what being held by Hermione felt
like.

Soon, Hermione stirred too. Even though they were awake, they laid together in silence. Their eyes
met and they smiled at one another. They were content to be together in this room even with a new
continent waiting to be explored outside.

"How did you sleep?" Hermione asked eventually, stretching like Crookshanks after a long
nap.

"Better than I ever have before," he answered truthfully. "What will I do when we
get back to Hogwarts? Do you think that sneaking to your room every night will fall under the
directions of 'Use it well ' that came with my cloak?"

"Somehow, I don't think even Dumbledore would let you get away with that," Hermione
laughed. She appreciated the idea though. "We'll have to take up sleeping on the couch in
the common room. What do you think?"

"Well, if we must," he laughed.

"Merlin, would you look at the time!" Hermione gasp when she saw that it was after 11:00.
They decided it was time to tear themselves from bed and venture into the city. So they showered
and changed.

"What do you want to do today?" Harry asked. He picked up a brochure on Atlantic City
that was on the table. He flipped through it absently.

"Well, I've been reading about the city," Hermione began, causing Harry to grin at
her. "Anyway, there are a lot of casinos, but we're too young for that. And I really think
it's stupid anyway. I mean, what kind of moron gives their money to a machine hoping it will
give them more back?"

"So what else is there?" Harry interrupted her rant.

"Oh, right... well, since we've already wasted half of today, how about we go to the Hard
Rock Cafe for lunch and then walk up the boardwalk? We can look at the souvenir shops and pick out
something for the Weasleys."

"Great idea! I'm starved!" Harry agreed. "So, do we take a cab or
walk?"

"Oh, the Hard Rock is too far from here. Cabs are $8 per trip, so we'd do better to take a
jitney" she explained.

"Right. Let's go then." Harry grabbed the room's key card and put it in his
wallet where he had some of his Muggle money. He had decided to not take it all with him.

When they got to the lobby of the hotel Harry turned to Hermione and said, "What's a
jitney?"

"It's sort of like a bus. We have to find one that's going to the Taj
Mahal--that's where the Hard Rock is. Maybe we can get a peek inside if we don't go to the
casino part."

One jitney trip behind them, the teens found their way to the Hard Rock Cafe. It was dark and loud.
The waitress showed them to a booth in the corner. There was music memorabilia covering the walls
and all the entree names had a rock and roll connection. "This is a really cool place,"
Harry commented, looking around.

"Yes, very!" Hermione agreed cheerfully. They placed their orders and chatted until the
food arrived. They asked how each other's meals were and took bites off one another's
plates. After paying for their meal, they went out onto the boardwalk.

There was a nice breeze blowing off the Atlantic, which made the temperature seem perfect. It was
warm, but not sweltering. They held hands as they walked along, stopping at souvenir shops.
Hermione had brought her camera and made Harry pose for a few pictures with the ocean behind
him.

"Excuse me," a lady with 3 children called to Hermione. "Would you mind taking a
photo of me and my kids?"

Hermione obliged and then asked the woman if she could take a couple of her and Harry.

"I just love your accent," the stranger said. "Are you from England?"

"Yes, we are," Harry answered. He wrapped his arms around Hermione as she leaned against
him. The ocean behind them was a brilliant blue with white caps coming at the surface.

"This is going to be a great photo," the stranger said as took it. "You're such
a cute couple."

"Thanks," Hermione answered, taking her camera back from the woman. She had loaded this
one with magic film, but she had a stash of Muggle film back in the hotel.

The walked along again, hand in hand. They stopped at a shop that had walls full of magnets,
nothing but magnets. "Mr. Weasley would love these," Harry said, pointing to a section
that featured kitchen appliances. He picked out a toaster and a blender, both of which had their
electrical cords pictured. "You know, I don't think I've ever seen a magnet in the
wizarding world."

Hermione thought for a second. "Neither have I. Maybe it's because we don't have to
use refrigerators," she shrugged.

"Still, Mr. Weasly can stick these on something else," Harry decided before he paid for
them. They were so very Muggle that Arthur was bound to love them.

"What should we get for Ron?" Hermione asked.

"I'm not sure. We'll know it when we see it." Harry answered.

They could not help but notice there was a psychic with a shop or tent every few few hundred feet.
"Want to get a reading?" Hermione asked.

"Please. They're probably worse than Trelawney."

"Still, it might be interesting to see what one says," Hermione argued. Harry gave in
easily, wanting to do anything in his power to put a smile on that face. They picked one at random
and went into her shop, stepping through hanging wooden beads that clattered as they moved.

"Ah, come in, come in," an older woman with dyed black hair motioned to them. She was
wearing loose robes of a purple and gold shiny material. There was a sent of incense filling the
air that made Harry cough. It was sickeningly sweet. "How can I serve you today?"

"We just want a basic reading, the $5 special advertised out front."

"Ah, you are visiting from Europe?" she asked, picking up on Hermione's accent.

"Ah, score one for the psychic," Harry muttered quietly in her ear. He'd had years of
"training" in divination and thought it was an unlikely art. It was true, however, that
he could have been prejudiced against it because Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore seemed to
doubt it as well.

"Yes," Hermione answered, forcing herself to not laugh at Harry's comment.

She closed the door behind them and put a sign in the window that said "Do Not Disturb."
She explained that she wanted privacy in order to consult the spirits. "I am Madame
Rosemarie," she said as she led them to a small round table covered with a white table cloth
where they all sat down. "Which of you would like to go first?" she asked.

"Her," Harry answered.

"Would you like a private reading my dear, or do you wish for your husband to stay with
you?"

"Um, we're not married," Hermione answered, annoyed. This settled it. The woman was a
fake--and too stupid to even look for wedding rings or realize that they were just teenagers.

"Not yet," Rosemarie stated confidently. "But he is your husband. I see it very
clearly. You have been destined for one another by powerful forces. Soon, my dears..."

Hermione turned to look Harry in the eye, wondering how he would react to that proclamation. He
didn't seem bothered. He didn't seem surprised either. She wasn't sure exactly what was
going on in his mind. That was annoying too, given her usual ability to read him so well.

Harry was watching Hermione's reaction. She seemed more surprised by this than he was. The only
thing he found shocking was that the woman had made such a bold statement right at the start.

"Would you like me to read your palm, or would you prefer that I use tarot cards?"
Rosemarie inquired.

"Palm," Hermione answered, extending her hand.

Rosemarie took Hermione's hand in her own and looked intently into her palm. "I see you
have a long life line. Praise God," she began. "I also see that you are inclined to quick
thinking. You have been blessed with a strong mind and unusual abilities." She was silent a
moment and Hermione said nothing. "The letter P is meaningful in matters of love. Is your
husband's initial P?" she asked.

Hermione, her mouth gaping open, nodded silently.

"God bless you," she continued, "You have seen many trials and will see even more.
There is a long road ahead of you, but you are on the side of right. Praise God." Rosemarie
ended the short reading. This was the $5 special afterall.

Hermione paid for her own and gave an extra $5 for Harry's reading. "You're
next," she said to Harry. Her mind was reeling over what he psychic had said. Her husband? The
letter P? Many trials on the side of right?

Harry reluctantly extended his palm. "Oh, my dear boy," she began sadly. "Yours is a
life of tragedy and loss. So much pain." She traced the lines of his palm with her finger.
"You have been hungry and hidden, shamed, used."

Harry felt like jerking his hand away from her that instant. He didn't want Hermione to hear
this, to have a stupid fake psychic remind her of his life prior to Hogwarts. He wouldn't look
at Hermione whom he could tell was peering at him with concern--it was too similar to looking at
him with pity and he did not want that from her or anyone else.

"You've seen death," she added. "But I also see bravery, a sharp mind... and
thirst to prove yourself."

Harry's head snapped up at those words. How had she managed to say something so close to what
the Sorting Hat had said?

"Talent, my dear. You have amazing talents that even you do not know you possess. Power. God
bless you. There is power and goodness. You are surrounded by light, even though darkness threatens
you at all times. God is with you, my child."

Harry wasn't even sure he believed in God. How could God be with him?

"Love is your protector," she continued. "It is your guide. Your strength has
increased tenfold recently because love is with you. It shall protect you as it is
fulfilled."

She raised her eyes from his palm and said, "You can do what is required of you. Love is by
your side. God be with you."

With that, the reading was over. Hermione politely thanked Rosemarie for her time and led Harry
from the shop. They walked in silence. Hermione wasn't sure how to take Harry's silence.
Did he think the old bat was crazy? Or, like her, was she shocked that the woman had said so much
that sounded true? She thought of what Harry had said before that he had to be the one and pieced
it with Rosemarie's words that something was required of him. *He'll tell me when
he's ready,* she thought.

"Well," Harry said a while later as they walked hand in hand. "That was
weird."

"Yeah," Hermione agreed.

"We should head back to the hotel, don't you think?" Harry asked, changing the
subject. They been wandering around for five hours and the sun was just starting to set.

"Sure," Hermione agreed. She realized she hadn't called her parents all day and took
out her cell phone. She left a voice mail that they were having a great time and would be returning
to the hotel soon.









10. Part 10
-----------

Hermione's thoughts buzzed about the things the psychic had said. Aside from calling Harry
her husband, everything she had said had been accurate. And what did she mean that he would be her
husband *soon*? Was that soon in some cosmic sense or soon as interpreted by two teenagers in
love? Were she and Harry in love? They loved each other. They kissed. They comforted each other.
They needed each other. They hated to be apart. They would do anything for the good of the other.
*Oh my god, we are in love!* she said to herself. Did *husband* have some other meaning?
No, she had said they weren't married and the woman had said "not yet." She meant
*husband* and P was her *husband's* initial. *Husband*? That would make her a
*wife*? They were only 15. What does *soon* mean anyway?

Harry was silent as well, also caught up in thoughts that were very similar to Hermione's.
Bravery? A thirst to prove himself? His strength had increased tenfold because love was with him.
He could do what was required of him. *This is insane,* he told himself. *She's a
sidewalk psychic for Merlin's sake. But how could she have known so much? And what does she
mean that I'm Hermione's husband?* The truth was he liked the idea. If he lived long
enough, he would like to make Hermione his in every way. But the odds of his surviving were slim
and he knew it. He had to kill or be killed. Somehow his 50/50 odds didn't seem very good, not
with Death Eaters returning to Voldemort. He hoped those *powerful forces* that
*destined* them to be together would also keep him alive.

Harry snuck a peak at Hermione who was sitting beside him in the jitney. She was thinking--hard.
There was no doubt about that. She didn't look distressed. She did look confused. He wondered
if she was thinking about the psychic. He was almost sure she was. He wondered how she liked the
idea of being his wife. Did she like the idea as much as he did? Or was she disgusted by the idea
of it, of being with him forever. Could she put up with him that long? He summoned his Gryffindor
courage and reached out to her. He took her hand in his own, then kissed it. He smiled at her with
all the love in his heart showing in his eyes.

Hermione's expression melted as she broke into a beautiful grin. It was all better now. The
awkwardness was over. They were back to being Harry and Hermione, teenagers in love. Marriage and
saving the world from evil, in whichever order they were to happen, could be dealt with later.






11. PART 11 Revelation
----------------------

On their way through the hotel lobby, Harry and Hermione stopped to watch one of the moving
statues--a woman dressed in white robes with a painted face and arms who would stand perfectly
still, then move and hold that position for a minute or so before shifting again.

"That's so cool!" Hermione said, captivated by the artistic expression.

"It's freaky," Harry disagreed. She slapped his arm playfully before announcing that
she was going to take a photo. To Harry's horror, she asked another stranger to snap a photo of
them in front of the living statue. With the wizard film, the woman's moves would be captured
as well.

They decided to get sandwiches from a nearby deli to take back to their room. They rented a movie
to watch while they ate. They sat on the extra bed while eating and watching the film.

"Are you sleepy?" Harry asked after the film was over.

"Not really. You?"

"Nope."

"Let's go out on the balcony," Hermione suggested after they had changed into their
sleepwear. She knew it would be a peaceful, private place to talk. She grabbed a blanket off the
spare bed to take it with them. It was a breezy night and even in the summer, she suspected they
may get cool.

"Do you think your parents will want to get together tomorrow night?" Harry asked after
they made a cacoon of the blanket. They opted to sit on the floor of the balcony, rather than put
to use the chairs. This way they could wrap up and cuddle.

"I imagine so," she answered. "It has been twenty-four hours since we saw them,
afterall."

"At least you remembered to call," he grinned.

"Maybe they were too busy to notice how long it took," she said sheepishly. "I
can't help it. I was having too much fun with you."

"Yeah, blame me. That'll get me points with your dad!" Harry teased.

"You've made enough points with my mom. She'll take care of my dad," Hermione
laughed. He was making points with her by showing her that beautiful smile right now.

They fell into a comfortable silence, watching the waves crash onto the shore, feeling the wind
against their flesh. They were very surprised when a seagull flew toward them and landed on the
railing. It hopped down and came to a stop by Harry. By then, it was obvious that the bird was
carrying a piece of parchment.

"Who would know we were here?" Harry asked, untying the message. He stroked the
gull's head and said, "Thank you." He had nothing to give the bird since he
hadn't expected any post to be delivered to him while he was in New Jersey.

He held the paper so that Hermione could see it as he opened it. "You are being watched,"
was all it said. There was no signature and no way to tell who had sent it.

"Who sent it?" Hermione asked even though she knew Harry didn't know the answer any
more than she did.

"No idea." Harry said shortly. His spirit fell instantly. He had been enjoying himself so
much today and here was the wizarding world invading his vacation with the girl he loved.
"Can't they leave me alone for one... minute?" He could have used stronger language,
but held his tongue out of respect for Hermione.

"Well, it must be from the Order. Or Dumbledore," Hermione reasoned. It felt almost as if
Harry had gone cold, so she tightened her grip on the blanket, holding him closer. "I mean,
the Death Eaters surely wouldn't let you know they were watching you, right?"

"Unless it's their way of telling me I'm not safe anywhere," Harry answered,
looking away from her. He felt all the despair, sorrow, and dread he'd been battling coming
back heavily upon him. "I suppose I wasn't being paranoid enough."

"Don't you shut down on me, Harry Potter!" Hermione warned, sensing his heartache and
the way he was caving in upon himself. She gently guided him to face her again.

"Or maybe you're right and it's Dumbledore telling me I can't run away, that I
have to do what I have to do. I don't have any options." He pulled his knees tightly to
his chest and tried to look away again, but she wouldn't let him.

"What?" Hermione asked. She took his hand in her own. "Tell me, Harry." She was
watching him intently, saw the flood of emotions flashing through his eyes. "What do you have
to do?"

"I need a break!" Harry exclaimed, ignoring her question. "I need time... time to
deal with Sirius's death... and they won't even let me have that. Why can't I just be
here in America with the girl I love and not have to worry about Voldemort for a few days? I
just... I can't... I can't do anything about it right now, can I?" he asked on the
virge of frustrated tears.

"No, you can't," Hermione said. "And you do deserve a break," for the first
time Hermione began to feel angry at Dumbledore. "They act like it's your personal
responsibility to take out Voldemort singlehandedly," she huffed. "They have aurors and
fully trained adult wizards who can fight him. They have the entire Order--"

"It is," Harry interrupted her softly. He held eye contact with her, watching as she
realized what he had said.

"What?" she asked, obviously shocked. Her grip on his hand was tighter.

"It is," he repeated. "It's my personal responsibility to kill Voldemort... or
die trying," he blinked back the tears that threatened to spill. He would not cry. He would be
the brave little Gryffindor he had chosen to be.

"But," Hermione started, but didn't know how to continue. Tears were burning in her
eyes too. She knew that Voldemort was after Harry and wanted nothing more than to kill him to
avenge his defeat years ago. "Why?"

"The Prophecy. The one he was after in the Ministry. It was predicted before I was born,"
he explained.

"What did it say?" Hermione asked tentatively. The part of her that wanted to know was
raging against the part that didn't think she could bear to think of Harry's being in more
danger than she knew.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. Born to those who have thrice
defied him, born as the seventh month dies. And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he
will have power the Dark Lord knows not. And either must die at the hand of the other for neither
can live while the other survives. The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as
the seventh month dies." He recited the prophecy. He had gone over it so many times in his
mind that it was burned in his memory.

Hermione had gone a ghostly shade of white. "Well... that could be... anyone," she
offered.

"No. It could have been me or Neville."

"Neville?" she repeated. She could hardly imagine Neville being a dangerous threat to
Voldemort. His heart was in the right place, but he was hardly a strong wizard.

"But he chose me. He marked me." With his free hand, he pointed to the scar on his
forehead. "That's why he killed my parents. He thought it would be easier to kill me when
I was a baby."

"He's a coward then," Hermione said. She never realized that Voldemort had actually
been seeking to kill Harry that night. She had thought he was intent on killing his parents and
Harry was just another prospective casualty.

"They died because of me," Harry said sadly. "They died trying to protect
me."

"Harry," Hermione started softly, "What would you have done if you were them? You
wouldn't invite him in and say, 'Okay, here's the baby. Leave us
alone.'"

"They should have," Harry answered. Those pesky tears were starting to fall now.

"Harry," her voice was very soothing, "Harry, that's not the way parents
are." She knew the Dursleys would have gladly handed him over to spare themselves and,
unfortunately, they were Harry's model of parents. "He would have killed them anyway. They
were his enemies."

He was silent, knowing what she said was true, but still wishing that his parents could have
lived.

Hermione's voice turned hopeful as she thought of the rest of the prophecy. "He
couldn't kill you when you were a baby. And it said you have power that he knows not.
So--"

"My mom," Harry answered. "She died to save me and it left a protection. Voldemort
got around that when he used my blood to bring him back. He can touch me now. He has." Harry
felt a sickening chill as he remember the man's fingers on his cheek.

"Maybe it's something else," she said hopefully. Afterall, if he knows not, maybe you
know not too," she realized the argument sounded stupid, but it made sense to her
anyway.

Harry shrugged. He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer to him. He absently
wondered if they could find him in Australia.

"Well, that settles it then," Hermione said firmly. "We'll kill him. Okay,
you'll kill him, but I'll stand by you every step of the way."

Harry shook his head, "No, Hermione. You've been in enough danger because of me. I
don't want you to get hurt. I don't want to loose you."

"When are you going to learn that it's useless to argue with me?" she asked as she
leaned forward to kiss him. "Don't even try," she added breathlessly. They continued
to kiss, loosing themselves and their worries in each other. Even Voldemort could not interfere
with this love that was growing stronger every day.






12. PART 12 Amusement Park
--------------------------

Harry and Hermione spent the night in one another's arms. The next day, they decided to go
to an amusement park. Harry had never been to one before and Hermione had not been in a few years.
"You'll love it," she assured him. "I know you'll love the rides as much as
you like to fly."

Hermione was correct. Harry found that spinning in midair was invigorating. He liked it quite a bit
more than she did. After several rides culminating in a trip on a Ferris wheel, Hermione had to
admit she was feeling quite nauseated. They sat on a bench for a while so Hermione could get her
bearings. Her favorite ride had been the elaborate merry-go-round where she had ridden a unicorn
and Harry had chosen a dragon.

"Want some more cotton candy?" Harry asked. There was a spark of excitement in his eyes.
They had eaten two bags already--and hot dogs and nachos and a funnel cake.

Hermione looked at Harry as if he'd just offered her deep fried pickled octopus. "Um, I
don't think so."

"We should take a bag to Dumbledore. I wonder if he's ever had it before?" Harry
mused. He had never had it before. The Dursleys had certainly never allowed him such a treat and it
wasn't something found in the wizarding world.

"It will disentigrate before we got it there," Hermione said.

"Huh?" Harry asked. He was softly rubbing her back, hoping to make her feel better.

"It sort of sinks in on itself and gets hard and yucky after a couple of days," she
explained.

"Oh," Harry was clearly disappointed. "That's a shame. I think he'd like
it."

"I'm sure we can find him something else," she said. She had enjoyed watching Harry
behave like a carefree child today. Somehow the weight of having to kill Voldemort seemed lighter
and he was able to push it aside and do the things that normal teenage boys liked to do. "We
have a lot of shopping left to do if we're going to get a little something for all the
Weasleys."

Hermione got to her feet a few minutes later, "I'm feeling a little better now." She
took Harry's hand to pull him up. "Let's see what else we can get into other than
rides."

What they found were games that Hermione would shoot down after hearing the objective.

"You pop balloons with the dart. For every balloon you pop, you move up a level on the
prizes," A gnarly old man explained to Harry. "You can win your girl anything she wants.
For one dollar, you get as many darts as you need."

"So," Hermione interrupted. "It's a dollar per level for a prize and if Harry
gives you $20, I can have a medium sized puple teddy bear that's hard enough to use as
ammunition?" She rolled her eyes and grabbed Harry's arm, leading him away from the booth.
"Muggles can't be this stupid."

Harry just laughed, his arm around her shoulders as they walked. "Mione, if you want a teddy
bear, I'll get you a nice cuddly one."

"You're the only teddy bear I need, Harry," she flirted. He responded by kissing her
forehead. They found some more souvenir shops and picked out a porcelain bell to give to Mrs.
Weasley. It was hand painted with a scene of the beach, the shore, the waves, and gulls flying
overhead. Harry thought about the letter as he saw the gulls on the bell, but quickly pushed it out
of his mind.

That evening, they had dinner with Hermione's parents. They said they were enjoying their
conference, but were looking forward to starting the vacation part of their holiday. Mr. Granger
said he had some surprises in store for them but would not elaborate.

After parting ways with her parents, Harry and Hermione decided to take a late-night stroll on the
beach. The breeze off the Atlantic touseled their hair. When they found a mostly secluded spot,
they sat down for a while. They both took off their shoes and socks and dug their toes into the wet
sand as the tide gently rolled in before them. The city lights twinkled behind them and the stars
twinkled above them.

"In case I haven't said it ten or fifteen times already, thanks for bringing me on this
trip," Harry said as Hermione leaned against him, her head resting on his shoulder.

"I couldn't have left you there with those horrible people all summer. Being with them
would only make things worse."

"I'm glad that someone sees that and cares," Harry answered, feeling resentment
toward Dumbledore for making him return to the Dursleys year after year. He realized his mood
toward Dumbledore could shift easily... one minute he wanted to give him cotton candy. The next, he
wanted to yell at him again for keeping him in the dark.

"You have enough on your mind without having to be with those people who detest you," she
said. There was obvious bitterness in her voice though it wasn't toward Harry. He didn't
respond to her. "Harry, are you okay?" she asked softly.

"Yeah," he answered. Suddenly the sand around his toes became a very interesting
diversion from what he was thinking.

"What is it?" Hermione asked, perfectly in tune to the shift in his mood.

"What do you think about prophecies?" Harry began.

"I think there's something there, otherwise Voldemort wouldn't have been after it and
Dumbledore wouldn't go to the lengths he's gone to protect you." She knew it sounded
harsh, as if the only reason Dumbledore protected Harry was that Harry had the power to vanquish
the Dark Lord. "I mean, I think he would protect you anyway, like he would any of the
students, Harry. Don't get me wrong. It's just..."

"He goes to greater extent for me than he would if I was just some other student--like
Neville, perhaps." Harry shrugged. He had learned that he was useful object long ago. Why
should that change now that he was a wizard? Good for cooking, good for cleaning, good for battling
dark evil wizards. "But that's not what I'm talking about. What do you think about
what the woman said yesterday?"

"Oh," Hermione started. She wasn't sure she how to answer that. On one hand, she
hoped that every word the woman said was true because she wanted to be Harry's wife. She wanted
to be bound to him forever. She couldn't imagine her life any other way. "Well, she was
more positive than Trelawny," she started.

Harry laughed. "True. She didn't predict my death by poisoned pumpkin pastry." His
stomach felt like a dozen snitches were flying around, trying to escape. But he had brought up the
subject on purpose, so he couldn't back out now. "What she said was so.... accurate... on
so many levels," he commented, wonder in his voice.

"Yeah," Hermione agreed.

"Would that be okay with you?" he asked hesitantly. "I mean, if I were your
husband?"

"It would be wonderful," she sighed. "I would be delighted to be your
wife."

"Good," Harry smiled. She had no idea how badly he wanted Hermione to be his wife and for
them to have kids, or how badly he wanted a family, a real family, of his own. He saw a glimpse of
what a family should be when he was with the Weasleys. "Then one day you will be." He
sealed his promise with a kiss.






13. PART 13 Slippery When Wet
-----------------------------

A storm was raging the last day of the conference. Harry and Hermione decided to amuse
themselves within the hotel. Instead of going to the hotel pool, they opted to put on their suits
and jump in the jacuzzi in their room. It wasn't huge, but it was big enough for two.

"Who needs saltwater when you can have this?" Hermione sighed as the jets caused the warm
water to surround her with relaxing bubbles.

"Beats me," Harry answered, sitting across from her. "And who needs all those people
on the beach when we can be alone here?"

"Not me," Hermione said. Acting on the spur of the moment, she began to rub her foot
against Harry's bare chest. He caught her ankle and kissed her toes, making her squirm.

"That tickles," she giggled.

"Oh really?" Harry asked mischievously. The next thing Hermione knew, Harry was on her
side of the tub, tickling her ribs.

An all-out splashing war ensued. After a few minutes, Hermione surveyed the bathroom. "Oh my
gosh. We've really made a mess!" she laughed. The floor was soaking wet. The walls were
splashed. Even the mirror across the room had rivulets flowing from top to bottom.

"Oh, who cares?" Harry asked. He kissed her neck, then pulled her under the water again.
She turned the tables, dunking him. They were laughing hysterically, slipping and sliding and
clinging to one another. Just as another gush of water flew from the tub, they heard a distinctive
"pop." It was the sound only made by an apparating witch or wizard.

The two stopped laughing and turned just in time to see Professor Snape get drenched. Hermione
squealed and grabbed a towel to cover her bathing suit. Harry bit his lower lip, and fought to keep
the sides of his mouth from turning upward into a smile.

Snape said nothing, but was clearly shocked by his wet arrival. He shook water from arms. "It
appears I'm interrupting something," he said in his usual snarky tone.

"Do you always apparate into bathrooms?" Harry asked, as he switched off the jets and
stood up, also grabbing a slightly soggy towel from the nearby wrack.

"You try apparating from England to America and see how good your aim is, Mr. Potter. I dare
say you'd be as likely to find yourself in the Atlantic Ocean as in Atlantic City." Snape
muttered a drying spell and instantly, he, the bathroom, the jacuzzi, and Harry and Hermione were
all perfectly dry again.

"Cool," Harry said, surveying the newly dry bathroom.

"I'm glad it meets with your approval," he snapped.

"Um, Professor," Hermione started, stepping out of the jacuzzi, careful to keep her towel
around her. "Why are you here?" She thought better of it and realized Snape might think
they were up to something inappropriate, so she accidentally dropped her towel, revealing her
purple one piece bathing suit. She jerked the towel back as if it had truly been an accident. The
last thing she wanted was for Snape to think he'd found her naked in the tub.

"This bathroom is not big enough for three people," Harry said, opening the door and
leading them into the main room. He was happy that the maid had made the beds while they were
downstairs having lunch. Otherwise, it would be obvious that only one was being used. "Would
you like to sit down, Professor?" Harry asked cordially, motioning to the table in the
kitchenette. "How about something to drink?" He reached into the refrigerator and got
three bottles of water. "All we have is water," he said setting them down on the
table.

Hermione retrieved two terry cloth robes and she and Harry put them on before sitting down with
their teacher.

Snape was almost taken aback by the hospitable treatment he was receiving. "You should have
told someone you were leaving your relative's house," he began without the frost in his
tone.

Harry rolled his eyes. "I was there for two weeks. That's plenty of family bonding time
with them."

Snape stopped himself from calling a Harry an insolent, ignorant brat. "There are wards and
protections there that were not afforded to you here."

"If you had to choose between the Dursleys and a trip to the United States, what would you
do?"

"Let the Order know I was leaving." Snape answered curtly. "Professor Dumbledore has
gone to--"

"I am nothing to Dumbledore but a pawn in a game of wizard's chess," Harry snapped.
He could almost picture a black cloud of anger and anxiety swirling around his heart.

"This is a war, Potter," Snape's voice was stern. "Some are going to
die."

"And I know it broke your heart that Sirius is one of the casualties!"

Hermione started to rub Harry's back lightly to calm him down.

"My feelings toward your godfather are a non issue. You have a responsibility to the people
who are guarding you to let them know where you will be at all times."

"*I'm being watched,*" Harry responded sarcastically. "And if I tried to
forget it, you made sure I got that little reminder via sea gull. I know good and well I don't
make a move without someone in the Order watching."

"You're taking your shield of protection for granted, Potter. Don't think for one
moment that the Order is the only group watching you. Fortunately for you, Dumbledore has recently
taken measures to conceal you so that any time you are in the Muggle world, you can't be
found."

"Then why are you here?" Harry asked dryly.

"To let you know that you should be safe during the rest of your stay in the States. You, Miss
Granger, and her parents have been shielded. The same protections given to your relatives have been
given to Miss Granger's relatives."

"So, you came to tell me that?" Harry asked, confused. What was the point of letting him
know that he was being protected?

"No, Mr. Potter. I came to let you know that You-Know-Who is plotting once more to take you. I
don't have details yet, but as soon as I do, you have to be ready to move, possibly at a
moment's notice. Until then," and it looked as if the next words were causing Snape great
pain, "Dumbledore wants you to enjoy yourself." He sneered at Hermione. "However, it
looks like you don't need Dumbledore's direction to do that."

Hermione sneered back. "Thank you, Professor," she said cooly. "We appreciate your
warning and apologize for drenching you. We hope your arrival back in England is...
drier."

"Be ready," Snape said to Harry. With a pop, he was gone.

"Well, he needed to wash his hair anyway," Harry said.

Hermione giggled and kissed Harry's forehead. "Let's just stay in the Muggle
world," she suggested, wishing it were possible. But they knew that Harry had to face
Voldemort one day. It seemed that day may be sooner rather than later.






14. PART 14 How to Make Jane Happy and Harry Sweat Bullets
----------------------------------------------------------

"Pack your things, kiddies, we're headed out," John Granger announced happily
while the two couples ate their breakfast together.

The Grangers were dressed in power suits again. Harry started to wonder if they ever wore anything
else. He and Hermione, on the other hand, looked as good as could be expected given that they'd
taken ten minutes to get ready.
They had been disappointed to have to tear themselves out of their warm bed early enough to meet
her parents downstairs. "Now that the conference is over, so is our fun," Hermione had
warned teasingly. Actually, she had no idea what was next on their itinerary.

"You still haven't told me where we're going next," Jane said, giving him a harsh
look.

"My dear," John grinned broadly, "I thought you might want an answer to that
question and I happen to have it in my pocket." He took an envelope out of the pocket of his
coat. He teased Jane by handing her the envelope, then taking it back, then finally giving it to
her. "Happy anniversary."

She opened the envelope and nearly squealed her delight. "John! You didn't! Oh my
god!"

"What is it?" Hermione asked. Her mother rarely acted with such enthusiasm.

Jane handed her daughter the contents of the envelope, "Look!"

"Bon Jovi," Hermione read. "Dad, you're awesome!" she said turning to her
father. "You know how to make mom a happy woman, don't you?" she laughed. She showed
the four concert tickets to Harry, "We're going to see Bon Jovi!" The one thing that
made her mother relax and loosen up after a hard day at work was her music. She liked all kinds and
that included rock and roll.

Harry looked dumbfounded, "Er..." This was one of those times when he felt as stupid in
the Muggle world as he often did his first year at Hogwarts. "What's that?"

"You've never heard of Bon Jovi?" Jane gasp, looking absolutely horrified. Her
reaction probably would not have been any different if he'd admitted he didn't know England
had a queen.

"No ma'am," he answered. "But I did live in a cupboard for ten years," he
offered apologetically.

"Oh," Jane said. "Did you really?"

He nodded.

"Like the Rolling Stones only younger and good looking," Jane offered, but no hint of
understanding flickered in Harry's eyes. "No Keith Richards lab experiments if you know
what I mean," she giggled at her own joke.

"Cupboard," he repeated, feeling very stupid and surprisingly unembarrassed that he could
admit to the Grangers where he slept as a a child.

"Think Gilderoy Lockhart meets the Weird Sisters," Hermione explained to Harry.

With that truly odd picture in his mind, Harry thought he may have been more confused than
ever.

"It's a Muggle rock band," she elaborated. "The singer is this really good
looking man that makes women go nuts. My mom is about him the way Mrs. Weasley was about Lockhart.
Awestruck, squealing like a teenage girl if I do say so myself," she laughed, glancing at her
mother who just shrugged and didn't try to deny it. "But they play pretty cool music for,
you know, *their* generation," she jerked her head toward her parents. "I mean, this
is actually a cool thing and we're seeing them in New Jersey, so it's like seeing the
Stones at Wembly (before they tore it down anyway). Don't worry, they're not dragging us to
see Barry Manilow. It's rock and roll. Like, you know, U2 or Aerosmith."

"I'll take your word for it," Harry said with the jumble of images and names in his
mind, most of which were meaningless. You too? Aerosmith? Wembly? They may as well have been going
to see Barry Manilow because he didn't know who that was either.

"I didn't pack anything to wear to a concert!" Jane gasp, mentally taking stock of
her wardrobe. "That settles it, Hermione. We're going shopping."

"Great!" John said and he took out his wallet and handed her his credit card. "Use
my card, honey. I want you to go all out for our anniversary. I'm sure Harry and I can find
something to amuse ourselves while the two of you shop. But you only have an hour. We need to get
on the road soon." He tucked the tickets back into his pocket. "We'll wait for you
here," he offered, looking around the mostly empty dining room. They wouldn't be keeping
anyone else from having a meal if they stayed.

Jane's jaw dropped, stunned. "That's not enough time! We'll have to find something
at one of the boutiques here." There were several shops in the hotel, obviously intended to
lure patrons to impulsively spend any winnings they may have gotten while gambling.

Harry was horrified. In moments, Hermione would be leaving him alone with her father. He had no
idea what to do or say or how to act with the man.

"Well, come on then," Jane said to Hermione, rushing her to finish her breakfast so they
could get going.

"You're going to be impossible today," Hermione laughed, happy to see her mother so
excited. "Harry, I... I guess I'll see you later." She felt bad leaving him alone
with her father.

"I'll miss you," he smiled at her. Perhaps he'd never uttered a truer word in his
life.

She kissed his cheek and whispered, "You'll be okay."

"Love you," he whispered back.

Then he watched as the love of his life disappeared with her mother. He looked back to Mr. Granger
who was smiling at him in a disarming way. "I think Mrs. Granger is very happy with her
present," he began, hoping it would break the awkwardness. It was simple enough.

"You have no idea," John shook his head. "My wife has been smitten with this band
for about 20 years," he explained. He left out the private joke they had that he was lucky his
name was John. That was just too much information for the boy who had lived in a cupboard. "I
think the way she feels right now is akin to the way you and Ron Weasley felt about going to the
Quintin World Cup."

"Quiddich," Harry corrected.

"Quiddich," he repeated. "Hermione tells me you play?" he inquired
politely.

"Yes, sir. I'm the seeker." Harry answered. This wasn't so bad. He could talk
about Quiddich with anyone.

"So, what do you do then? How does the game work?"

"You see, there are seven players, three balls, and three hoops in the air..." Harry
began. He explained the details of the game and what he did as seeker including some of his
mishaps. Describing his Firebolt made him think of Sirius, but it brought happy memories of
Sirius.

"That must be a lot of pressure on you," John commented, realizing that the seeker had to
end the game and could turn a losing game into a winning game. "But Hermione says you've
never lost a game."

"One," he corrected. "I fell off my broom. I thought there were... well, I got
distracted. It was stupid really."

The conversation came to an uncomfortable pause when the topic of Quiddich was exhausted. Harry
tipped his empty glass to his lips trying to drink something that wasn't there, anything to
keep his mouth busy since he wasn't talking. "I can't tell you how much I appreciate
being on this trip with your family," he stated again. It was repetitive, but at least it was
something.

"We really are glad you could come," John answered. "Hermione thinks the world of
you, you know."

Harry smiled, "I... think the world of her too," he answered. He had been close to saying
that he loved her.

"Yeah, I thought so," John responded. "I don't want to pry, Harry, but, are you
feeling better? Hermione was so worried about you at the beginning of the year. She wouldn't
tell us what happened and I'm not asking, but I am concerned."

"Oh," he paused. "Yes, I'm much better because of Hermione. I, um, I felt really
alone until she rescued me from the Dursleys."

"Rescued?" John asked. He knew Harry had been making a joke of his sleeping in a
cupboard, but John found it very disturbing that it was the truth, just as he had found it
disturbing that Hermione had asked for food to send to Harry during previous summers. Only monsters
would make a child sleep in a closet and deprive him of food to punish him. It was obvious food was
not too hard to come by in the Dursley household.

Harry looked down and shrugged. Another uncomfortable silence followed.

"You won't have to go back there this summer," John offered. He wouldn't pressure
Harry to talk about them. His silence said more than Harry would ever know. "I'm sure I
can talk them into letting you stay with us even after we get back to England." He found
Vernon to be a pompous boar and Petunia to be saccharine. The way Dudley had looked at his daughter
made him want to hide her. It was entirely different than the way Harry looked at her with pride
and respect.

Harry looked up again, smiling. "That would be great. Thank you so much!" He didn't
care what Dumbledore had said. Now that the Grangers had the same protection that the Dursleys had
had there was no reason for him to go back, in his opinion, ever.

"You're a good kid, Harry. You deserve better than that," he said approvingly. He
knew from Hermione's stories that Harry was a heroic young man. He wasn't completely aware
of all of Hermione's involvement in his heroics, but he wasn't naive enough to believe that
she was reciting all those adventures with purely secondhand information.

Harry smiled, unsure of what to say. He felt good to know that Hermione's dad cared about
him.

"And you are in for a treat tonight. I'm not sure if you noticed, but I got us some prime
tickets--spent a fortune, mind you," he laughed. "My father would roll over in his grave
if he knew what I had put into those tickets. But it's worth it to see Jane happy."

"You'd do anything for her, wouldn't you?" Harry asked. He was starting to
realize what being in love meant.

"Of course I would. I get the feeling you'd do anything for my little girl
too."

"Definitely." Harry answered without pause. "She's my best friend and I love
her." Well, there. He had said it. He had not planned to say it, but he had told Mr. Granger
that he was in love with his daughter.

"I can see that," John nodded. This gave him the opportunity to address certain concerns
he wasn't sure he would otherwise be able to approach. "We trust you two, you
know."

"Yes sir," Harry answered, fully understanding the implications of those words. Suddenly,
the room seemed to be getting hotter. He knew he was sweating.

"You're old enough to make responsible decisions." John said firmly, but not
harshly.

"Sir," Harry began tentatively, "Has Hermione ever told you about wizarding, um,
morals or standards, er... the way we conduct ourselves?" He saw the quickest way out of this
conversation was the truth about wizard customs.

"What do you mean?"

"Well," Harry's throat felt very dry. "The thing is that, you don't have to
worry about us crossing any lines."

"I don't?" he asked. This certainly would not have been an easy conversation to have
with his daughter. That was Jane's job.

"No sir. We, it's sort of, well, it's just not something that proper witches and
wizards do until they are formally bound to one another... for life. It's a code of conduct. I
mean, I know Muggles would think we were old fashioned and maybe insane. Maybe we are. A lot of
customs and traditions are upheld from the past that are still meaningful because of the symbolism
and the sheer power involved. I dare say even the evil wizards would uphold the traditions and
ceremonies because they're even more obsessive about bloodlines and purity than any other
group."

"Oh," John answered, truly surprised by what he was hearing. Maybe he should have read
that *Hogwarts: A History* that Hermione offered over and over. He could have spared himself a
few years of worry.

"There are mixed relationships of sorts," Harry thought of Hagrid's parents, but
didn't go into detail. "But it's a life commitment in our world. It's not casual.
Some kids our age do cross those lines, but, well, Hermione and I won't. Even being raised
outside that world, we realize how important the traditions are to honor the past. Just because
it's not what seems 'normal' doesn't mean there's not a good reason for it. So,
we probably would get laughed at by Muggle kids our age, but it would be scandalous the other way
around in our world."

"Well, that's a relief," John sighed stating his honest opinion. "Thanks, Harry.
I'm glad we had this conversation. I won't have a coronary worrying about my little
girl."

Harry saw the relieved expression on John Granger's face. "Oddly enough, sir, I think
I'm glad we had this conversation too." He realized that, even if it had been
uncomfortable, it was good that John knew that he and Hermione could be trusted to be together. He
valued Hermione so much that this bit of awkwardness was worth it to establish a trusting
relationship with her father.

"Well, look who's back!" John exclaimed as his wife and daughter came back into view,
carrying two large shopping bags.




A/N: Gal-texter raise a questions that I'll address here for all the readers:

She asked if Bon Jovi is as big in the UK as they are in the USA. Actually, they're bigger.
They're one of top touring acts in the world along with the likes of the Rolling Stones, U2,
Metallica, and the Eagles. Their shows in Europe typically draw crowds of +/- 70,000 per night.
They played to 92,000 in one single show of several in the UK last year and were given the honor of
being the last band to play at the legendary Wembly Stadium before it was destroyed. The only act
to sell out said stadium more times was Michael Jackson who's been in the business longer.
They're a perfect realistic choice for a woman Jane Granger's age (in my story, about 38)
to have a love for and I hope that having Hermione's mom have a rocker-chick side to her will
add some humor and adventure to the story.



15. PART 15 Let it Rock
-----------------------

A/N: I just want to thank everyone who took time to post reviews. It's means a lot to read
the feedback. I am glad that someone noted that I'm taking a different route on the issue of
sex. It's going to play a part in the story. I may have to up the rating. LOL

Here's my new chapter. I hope you enjoy it. I've done my best to capture what is
essentially an auditory experience and relay it in writing. I hope I've done well enough to
make an enjoyable read. You don't have to like Bon Jovi. The music itself is barely mentioned.
I wanted to humanize the Grangers, give them personalities that stand out, and let Harry experience
some fun the Muggle way. The poor boy deserves it with what he's been through and what's
coming.

***********PART 15***********




After renting a car and driving to East Rutherford, the Grangers and Harry checked into another
hotel. Jane seemed nervously excited all afternoon, constantly checking her watch and fidgeting
more than normal. Harry decided he would not want this woman working on his teeth prior to a
concert.

Jane was giddy when she told Harry about her previous concert experiences, starting back in 1985
and working her way forward. John and Hermione appeared to have heard these stories before and,
apparently, John had been with her to many of the shows too.

“She forgets I exist when that other Jon shows up,” he laughed.

“I do not!” Jane argued.

“Word to the wise, kids, don’t talk to her during the show. Don’t distract her. She might hit
you,” he exaggerated.

Jane decidedly ignored her husband’s last comment. “Oh, Harry, you’re in for a treat! This is
the best live band in the world!”

“I can’t wait,” Harry replied less enthusiastically than he had hoped to sound. He appreciated
Jane’s excitement, but didn’t quite understand what all the hoopla was about. He couldn’t quite
shake the *Lockhart meets the Weird Sisters* image from his mind.

Jane rushed them to get dressed so they could get to the stadium. “Traffic is going to be a
nightmare!” she warned. They opted to catch a shuttle from their hotel to the stadium. It would
assure they were taken by someone who knew where they were going and how to get back. John didn’t
mind driving in USA despite the differences in rules, but felt it would be better on all their
nerves, especially his wife’s, if he wasn’t in charge of getting them to the show.

Harry decided to wear his dragon t-shirt with his black jeans. He sat on one bed in the room
that he and Hermione would share while John sat on the other. They had gotten ready much more
quickly than the girls who were still preparing themselves in the next room.

“Get used to this, son. Granger women will keep you waiting,” John joked as he flipped through
some brochures that had been left in the room.

“It’s okay,” Harry said, smiling. John had just called him *son*. It had momentarily
startled him. From all indications, Hermione’s parents actually cared about him. Maybe they even
*liked* him. He was certain John liked him more now that they had had their chat. “I don’t
mind.”

In a few minutes more, Hermione emerged in a denim skirt with a matching vest to wear over a
short sleeved white shirt. She pulled her hair back in a butterfly clip and wore dangling bluebell
earrings and a necklace that was also adorned with the flowers.

“You look adorable,” John said when she walked into the joining room where he and Harry were
waiting.

“Yeah, you look really cute,” Harry agreed.

Hermione glared at her father, “Adorable?” then at Harry, “Cute?” Her expression fell and she
turned to leave the room. “I’m changing!”

“Oh, no, you’re not!” Jane laughed as she grabbed her retreating daughter’s collar, stopping her
mid-step.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked. “You look great!”

“You said I was *cute*!” she huffed, crossing her arms.

“You are!” he argued, clueless.

“You’re supposed to say I look *hot* or *alluring* or *smashing* or, or,
*stunning*, or¼” She had really hoped for a *hot* since she was dressed for a concert.
She had been to a show with her mother the summer before and didn’t want Harry’s eye to be caught
by any of the scantily clad women that were sure to be there.

“You want me to tell you that you look *hot* when I’m standing next to your father?” Harry
asked, making both her parents laugh. “Honey, you look fantastic.”

“Well, I want to be better than fantastic. There will be thousands of really good looking women
there and--”

“And who cares?” Harry interrupted. “We’re going to watch the band, not the audience. Besides, I
don’t care about other girls. I’ve got the best girl in the world, the smartest and the
prettiest.”

Hermione could not stop the grin that spread across her features.

“Can we *go* now?” Jane opened the door impatiently. “Come on, people. We all look great.
Now let’s go.”

“You turn into a monster where Bon Jovi is concerned,” Hermione answered, shaking her head as
she grabbed a light jacket to take with her.

“You’re right. She does. Let’s go before she bares the fangs and claws,” John shuffled them out
of the room and into the hallway.

Jane was right about traffic being a nightmare. It took an hour for them to travel the ten miles
to the stadium, but it gave Harry an opportunity to observe other Muggles who shared the shuttle.
Jane started up a conversation with two girls from Germany who had traveled to the States
specifically for the concert. He was amazed to see all ages on the shuttle and couldn’t help
catching the contagious excitement that surrounded him. By the time they arrived, he was eager for
a new experience, that for once, wouldn’t be life threatening.

It seemed to take forever for them to get through the line. It was an adventure in Muggle
observations. There were some people who were already tipsy. Women of all ages, sizes, and shapes
were dressed like they thought they looked good, even if they didn’t. Harry wondered why so many
people were wearing cowboy hats and why an "S" logo was so prevalent on t-shirts and
tattoos. There were many women and men whose hair would rival Hermione’s in a contest for size and
out-of-control volume. The only experience Harry could compare it to was the Quiddich World Cup
with it’s mass of people and air of excitement.

“I hope it doesn’t rain,” Hermione said, looking up at the gray sky covered with dark clouds.
They were at an open air stadium. There would be no roof to keep them dry if the storm
developed.

They were directed from one guard and area to another to another until they found themselves on
the field in the center on the fifth row from the stage.

“John, I love you!” Jane exclaimed as she found her seat. “How much did you have to spend to get
these tickets?”

“Don’t worry about it,” John replied. “It’s your anniversary present.”

“You could not have gotten me anything better. This is amazing! I’ve never been this close
before!” She turned to Harry, “All the shows I’ve seen in Europe were general admission. I’ve never
had my very own spot before!”

“It’s great,” Harry agreed, not really understanding what it meant for Jane to be this close to
her favorite band. He looked around as the stadium filled. Roadies crossed the stage, checking
equipment. Loud current and classic rock songs blared in the speakers as a prelude to the show.

Behind the stage was an enormous display of screens that would project images from the concert.
Hundreds of lights that would create a colorful spectacle of a laser show hung on riggings
overhead.

“This is going to be great!” Hermione exclaimed as she surveyed the packed stadium.

Soon the house lights went down and the crowd around them erupted into thunderous screams and
applause. Harry could not help but feel the surge of excitement that permeated the air.

In seconds, four shadowy figures walked onto the stage and the music started as spotlights shown
on the four men. If Harry thought that the noise when the lights went down was loud, he thought it
was deafening as a fifth figure bounded onto stage.

The man was lean and small framed with wavy blonde hair and bright blue eyes and gleaming white
teeth. Harry wondered for a second if his perfect teeth were one of the reasons Jane fancied him.
He wore black leather pants and a beige tan suede shirt. There was an aura of incredible magnetism
and charisma about him that would have made Gilderoy Lockhart pale even in the height of his glory.
Unlike Lockhart, there was a detectable sincerity in his smile and eyes that let anyone know he
thoroughly enjoyed every moment of what he was doing.

Harry realized the title of the song was “Bounce” and that is exactly what everyone around him
was doing. Both Jane and Hermione’s eyes were glued to the stage. Harry caught John’s attention and
gave him a sympathetic smile that John returned.

Harry turned back and watched the singer bound energetically from one side of the stage to the
other, stopping to stand shoulder to shoulder with the guitarist for a moment, making broad
movements with his hands, making the guy on the 162nd row feel like he in the first row.
He was amazed at just how close he and the Grangers were to the stage. It felt like he could almost
reach out and touch the band if he wanted to do so.

The pace did not slow down for a while. Harry and Hermione became part of the larger body of one
audience unified in hand motions and swaying stances. He was surprised when he realized that he
actually had heard some of these songs before, despite his limited access to Muggle
entertainment.

When the pace slowed for a ballad, Hermione leaned into Harry and he wrapped his arms around
her. They swayed together, melting into the words of love. He noticed that John and Jane were doing
the same thing and realized that they were not so different as couples in different stages of
loving relationships. The music was moving them all, crossing the generations.

Things were not slow for long. This was a rock show and that’s what the band did best. Harry and
Hermione danced, bounced, swayed and both built up quite a sweat.

About an hour and a half into the performance, the storm clouds overhead broke open and rain
spilled from the heavens. Harry found that he was disappointed with the prospect of the show coming
to an abrupt halt. To his surprise, the band didn’t miss a beat. They continued just as if the
world was dry.

The audience didn’t seem to mind the rain at all. If anything, it heightened the energy.

Before the next break Jon Bon Jovi announced, “I always wondered what it would be like to shower
with 80,000 friends.”

And so the evening continued, rain and all. It was a massive party that only came to an end
after a two and a half hour performance. They were all soaked to the bone by the time the show was
over and no one minded at all.

Harry and Hermione were both disappointed when the house lights went up again, signaling the end
to the spectacular show. Harry knew that the disappointment he felt must have been ten times as
intense for Mrs. Granger, but she had a bright smile on her face as they turned to leave.

“Well, what did you think?” Jane shouted to Harry.

“You were right. That was great!” he yelled back enthusiastically. He could not imagine that
there was a better live act in the world. The Louis Armstrong classic “What a Wonderful World”
blared as they left the stadium. It wasn’t until they were back on the road that Harry realized he
had spent over two hours without a single thought of Voldemort’s threat or Sirius’s death. He had
let himself go in the music and the only thing that had mattered was Hermione next to him. For
Harry, for one night, it really had been a wonderful world.









16. PART 16 What about Ron?
---------------------------

A/N: I should have done this already. I do not own the characters in the story (real or
imagined). No profit is being made. For entertainment purposes only.



"You *are* brave," Hermione told Harry, stunned, when she learned of the
conversation he had had with her father. They had both showered after returning from the concert
and were far too wired to go to sleep. The experience had them on a natural high. Since they had
not eaten prior to the show (Jane had been far too excited to eat anything), they had bought chips
and cookies out of a vending machine and were sharing the junk food as the talked over the events
of the day.



"It wasn't *too* bad." He believed that now, but probably would not have at
the time. “I mean, I didn’t go into a lot of details. I didn’t have to explain everything. I just
told him enough to make him sleep easy at night, even when we’re sharing hotel rooms.”



"You know, if he would have read *A History of Wizard Tradition* he would not have had
to worry," she sighed, exasperated. Sometimes she felt she was the only one she knew who
realized the value of a good book. The book had gone into great detail about the value wizards
placed on purity, the eternal and unbreakable bonds of wizard marriage, and the customs of
betrothed couples.



"I don't know," Harry replied. "Just because it's custom doesn't mean
everyone follows it. If the gardens could talk," he thought back to the night of the Yule Ball
in their fourth year. "And there's the astronomy tower. I hear it's seen a lot of
action."



"And just how do *you* know so much about the make-out spots at Snogwarts?" She
asked with a playful accusation in her voice. "Did Cho show you the sites?"



"Cho?" Harry repeated with a snort. He had not thought of her in ages. "No.
Please. I kissed her once and she cried her eyes out. Then she got jealous of you. The whole Cho
thing was a disaster from start to finish. You have to remember who I share a dorm with." Dean
and Seamus were both known to be the Gryffindor Cassanovas.



"Viktor was jealous of you too," Hermione admitted. He always looked a bit angry when
she rattled on about Harry and there was no doubt in his mind that Harry was who she wanted to win
the tournament.



"Maybe their suspicions were on target though," Harry offered. "Cho was right.
I'd never have put her before you."



Hermione grinned. It did her self-esteem good to know that even when Harry was trying to date
the very pretty girl she meant more to him. She had been glad that the little vixen was jealous of
her relationship with Harry and she had been glad that it had not worked out between them.
"Viktor sort of ceased to exist if you were around," she admitted. She remembered the
third task and how terrified she had been of Harry being hurt. She gave little thought to
Viktor's injuries because it had taken Harry so long to return. Then, when he had returned more
badly hurt than she had imagined...she shuddered at the thought of how close she had come to losing
him that night.



"Okay, so maybe everyone else could see what we were too blind to realize," Harry
agreed. "Even Rita Skeeter, dung beetle that she was," he laughed. He hesitated a moment
before asking his next question, "What about Ron?"



He had thought of Ron a lot recently, even if he had not said so. The last thing he wanted to do
was hurt Ron. Make that the second last thing he wanted to do. The last thing he wanted to do was
give up Hermione.



"What about him," she asked stiffly. She too had thought about the third member of The
Trio. It would be awkward for them to be a Trio when two of them were now the Duo.



"He's never come out and said as much, but I think he has a crush on you. He's
probably going to hate me." There was an unspoken law that when two male best friends had a
female best friend, said female was off limits for both of them.



Hermione sighed. She supposed that could be a sticky problem. It was hard for her to imagine
though that not one but two boys could really be interested in her. She had never thought herself
to be the girl in the center of a triangle, even though her best friends were both boys. It was
unreal: she was just big haired, big teethed, big brained Hermione. Boys were supposed to go for
the little brains with big boobs.



"I don't know, Harry. I mean, I guess maybe he did at one time, but it's hard to
tell with Ron. He seemed jealous of Viktor, but I honestly wonder sometimes if he was jealous of me
for being friends with the famous Krum more than he was of him dating me. And he tends to treat
Ginny the same way when she's dating someone. So, maybe it boils down to him being like a big
brother. I don't think I'm really his type. We argue all the time," she shrugged.
"Honestly, Harry, I think if it weren't for you, Ron and I would not even be friends. He
had to know it was you," she continued. "Fourth year made that clear when he was jealous
and accused you of lying. It was you I stood by, Harry. Not him."



"I remember," Harry gave her a quick kiss. Ron's reaction had hurt him badly and
he had learned that Hermione was the one person he could trust.



"So, I don't think he could have a real crush on me," she had reasoned herself out
of the notion of being in a triangle with her two best friends.



"Maybe," Harry agreed. It would have been a lot easier to tell if he and Ron ever
actually discussed girls. How odd was that? They were two teenage boys who spent more time
discussing the latest threat to their existence than they did discussing the pursuit of the
opposite sex. "We'll work it out, whatever his reaction."



"Do you think we should owl him about it?" Hermione asked. She didn't want Ron to
feel like they were keeping it from him.



"I've thought about that," Harry admitted, taking a cookie from their supply.
"I think we should tell him in person. If he does have a bad reaction, it would be rather
harsh of us to let him read about it without being there to assure him that we'll still be The
Trio."



"Maybe we can become a Quartet," Hermione said hopefully. "I think Luna has a
crush on *Ronald*. And she did not hesitate to go to the Ministry with us or get her dad to
print the article telling your side of things. She's on our side."



"So you approve of Luna for our Ronniekins?" Harry asked. "There's really
more depth to her than people realize," he added. "She could be good for Ron if he would
stop calling her Looney," he concluded. For the first time he considered that one day their
Trio would have to expand to include significant others. It was a rather powerful dynamic that he
had with Hermione and Ron. It would not be easy for anyone to really infiltrate their inner
circle--even Ron's siblings had limited access.



"Yes, it would help if he used her proper name," Hermione agreed. She sighed pondering
how to go about setting up Ron with Luna. Ginny would have to be involved in that plan.



"I bet Ron would have enjoyed tonight," Harry changed the subject to something lighter
since his reaction to their relationship would have to be dealt with, whatever it was, later.



"Oh yes, I think so," she pictured Ron at the concert, ogling all the good looking
girls in the audience. "Maybe we can take him to a show one day. Maybe we can take all the
Weasleys. Can't you imagine how much Mr. Weasley would enjoy himself?"



Harry laughed and then yawned."How about Mrs. Weasley?" He looked at the time. It was
almost 3:00 in the morning.



"Yeah, me too," Hermione said as she also yawned. "Lights out?" she
asked.



He nodded and she gathered the food wrappers and bottles of water and placed them on the
nightstand next to the lamp that she turned off. They shared a sweet kiss before curling up
together and drifting into their thoughts of the concert, thousands of people singing in the rain,
Ron, Luna, and the pleasant mix of dreams that incorporated those notions in adventures free from
the threat of the evil that lurked, waiting for them.
















17. PART 17 Birthday Surprises
------------------------------

**I own nothing. No profit is being made. For entertainment purposes only.



“Happy Birthday!” Hermione exclaimed as she jerked the covers off Harry. She had let him sleep
late while she took a shower and got dressed. Then she had ordered room service and now that their
breakfast had arrived, it was time to wake him up and lavish him with affection.



Harry barely opened his eyes and absently reached for the covers to pull them back.



“No sir!” Hermione laughed, jerking them away again. “It’s your birthday and it’s time to get
out of bed and celebrate.”



Harry gave a big yawn and said, “It’s my birthday?” He smiled because she had remembered. It was
not that he expected her to forget, but somehow he was still not used to anyone caring enough about
his birthday to remember it. Having no happy birthday memories prior to his eleventh had taught him
the day was not important to anyone but him. He figured the only reason the Dursleys even
remembered it was that each year marked another milestone until the day they could kick him out of
their house.



“Yes, and I’m going to spoil you all day long.” She reached for the tray that had arrived and
uncovered two plates of pancakes covered in strawberry syrup, fruit, and whipped cream. There was a
single candle in the middle of one of the stacks. She had asked if the kitchen could arrange for it
and they had agreed. “This is your first birthday cake of the day,” she told him. “And this is your
first present,” she kissed his forehead. “More of that to come later,” she laughed. “And you have
to wait until tonight for your other presents.”



Harry grinned at her. “Thanks, Hermione. You‘re too good to me.” They ate their breakfast and
then Harry took a shower and got ready to go out for the day.



The day after the concert, they had gone into New York City to see some of the sites. From
there, they had returned the car to a rental agency and taken a train to Boston. They rented
another car and drove west from Boston then north into New Hampshire and through Vermont where they
had found a nice inn nestled in the mountains. Harry had become very comfortable with Hermione’s
parents and they treated him as well as the Weasleys did. He had told them how much he appreciated
everything so many times that John had threatened to tape his mouth shut if he said “thank you” one
more time.



“It’s nothing,” John assured him. “We’re very glad you could come.” There was really no way John
could express to Harry just how glad they were for the chance to get to know him. He had known
since the day Hermione started Hogwarts that she would eventually fall in love with and marry a
wizard. While marriage may have been in the distant future, John was pleased to have the chance to
get to know the wizard his daughter would marry and he was positive that was Harry. He and Jane
would never fit into Hermione’s other world and he was happy that she had someone like Harry who,
from all he had heard, was brave, loyal, and decent. More than anything else, it was important to
and impressive to John that Harry really respected Hermione and valued her as a person. Of course,
it did not hurt that he knew Harry wasn't putting any moves on his daughter.



He was also happy to get Harry out of a situation that he knew was bad. Hermione had told them
what little she knew of the Dursleys and Harry became so quiet when he tried to talk about them
that John was worried about how much he suffered at their hands. Now that he knew Harry and he was
more than just a name it had nagged at him constantly that the boy’s relatives withheld food as
punishment. He had studied enough anatomy to know that starvation was one of the cruelest things a
person could be put through. There was no doubt in his mind that if Harry had been properly
nourished and had not been forced to sleep in a cupboard that he would be taller, broader, and have
a healthier look overall. He knew that Jane shared his concerns, but her desire was to make things
better for Harry now rather than to worry about the past. She knew nothing could be done about
it.



Harry and Hermione went to her parents’ room around 10:00. They had decided to go hiking over a
scenic trail not far from the inn. Jane answered their knock and invited them inside. “We’re just
about ready,” she said. “I want to stop at the gift shop downstairs and get some bug repellant
though.”



“You didn’t pack any?” John teased as he walked out of the bathroom. “Hmmm, it must be the only
thing she left at home.”



“Very funny, dear,” she replied. It was true that she had brought three heavy suitcases, but
they were on a three week vacation, after all.



“Isn’t today someone’s birthday?” John asked, smiling broadly at Harry.



“Yes sir,” he replied, very surprised that the man knew, remembered, and cared that it was his
birthday.



“Well, then, that calls for a celebration!” He turned to his girls, “And a song. Granted, I’m
not Jon Bon Jovi, but since he’s not here and I am… ahem…” The three of them serenaded Harry with
“Happy Birthday,” embarrassing him more than themselves.



Hermione kissed his cheek when they finished their song. Harry knew his cheeks were burning.
“Thanks,” he replied softly.



Jane and Hermione breezed through the gift shop picking up bottled water and snacks in addition
to a can of *Off!.* They left the inn and followed the signs to the edge of the forest,
leading them to the hiking trail.



“I hope there aren’t any giant spiders, angry centaurs, or blast ended skrewts out there,” Harry
joked to Hermione as they entered the forest.



She laughed, “I don’t think we have to worry about those here, but have you got your wand, just
in case?”



“Never leave home without it,” he replied, patting the pocket in his jeans.



“Blast ended whats?” John asked, repeating the portion he had heard. Thus ensued a conversation
about the magical beasts that they had encountered through their years along with much discussion
of Hagrid. Talking about Hagrid and the magical creatures seemed appropriate for their hike.



They were not met by any overgrown magical beasts. In fact, they saw very few animals at all.
Apparently the well-worn trail was so frequented by humans that the animals in the area stayed
away. However, the walk was very pleasant and quite uneventful. The temperature was warm, but there
was little humidity so it was quite comfortable. They followed the trail until they came to a
stream which led to their ultimate destination of some waterfalls they'd seen in a
tourist's brochure. They knew they were close to the falls because they could hear the rumble
of the water.



“Wow!” Hermione exclaimed when they came in full view of the falls. Before them crystal clear
water was cascading down a rocky slope and pooling into the river below. If they stood near the
water’s edge, they were misted with spray from the falls. They took many pictures and got a member
of another group to take some of the four of them all together.



“You two are adorable together,” Jane commented as she snapped a picture of the teens.



“This is the best birthday I’ve ever had!” Harry told them enthusiastically. “I’ll remember this
forever.”



Hermione gave him another kiss on his cheek just as her mother snapped another photo and
embarrassed them by saying, “Awwww,” rather loudly.



On the way back to the inn, Harry asked the Grangers if they had met in school.



As it turned out, they had been in the same school throughout their high school years, but never
paid one another much attention. They met again while both were studying to become dentists. “Once
we realized how much we had in common, we became best friends,” John told them.



“Then we fell in love,” Jane added. “We got married while we were in our second year. It wasn’t
easy to be married and go to university, but we managed.”



Hermione smiled. She had heard the story of her parent’s romance many times before, but it
touched her that Harry was interested enough in her family to ask about it himself.



They decided they should all wash up before meeting to go to dinner. “We’ll meet you in the
lobby in one hour,” Jane told them.



“Don’t forget the goodies!” Hermione instructed her mother.



“What goodies?” Harry asked.



“Oh, you’ll see,” Hermione teased. She had left Harry’s presents with her mother and, in fact,
put her mother in charge of making sure one of her ideas materialized.



There was a restaurant in the inn. A man with an acoustic guitar was in a spotlight as he sang
covers of many well-known hits from several decades. Many couples danced on a hardwood floor
adjacent to his small stage. The majority of the restaurant was dimly lit and it had a romantic
atmosphere. They were placed at an oak table with dark green leather booth seating.



There was a variety of food on the menu and Harry decided on lasagne while Hermione opted for
chicken Caesar salad. After they placed their orders, Jane brought out a bag of presents.



“Save mine for last,” Hermione instructed, taking the smallest package and a medium sized box to
one side.



“Well, this one is from me,” John said as he handed Harry what looked like a shirt box.



“But,” Harry started, shocked, “You didn’t have to…” his words trailed off. He had known
Hermione would give him a present, but this was another happy surprise for him.



“I know I didn’t have to,” John said. “I wanted to.” He smiled at the boy and nudged the gift
toward him.



“Thank you,” Harry said, taking the package.



“Well, open it first. Then thank me!” John laughed. He could tell from Harry’s reaction that
birthday presents had been very few in his life. Again, his treatment by the Dursleys worried John.
He wasn’t sure why he would have expected them to give Harry birthday presents if they didn’t give
him food regularly.



Harry opened the package to find a black t-shirt from the concert. “Cool!” he said upon taking
it out and showing the front and back to Hermione.



“That’s awesome,” Hermione said, taking the shirt. “I can’t wait to borrow it.” She knew that
Lavendar and Pavarti would be immensely interested in the Muggle men on the front and part of her
looked forward to telling them all about the wonderful time she‘d had with Harry at the show. Every
non-Slytherin girl in Gryffindor had their eye on the most eligible bachelor at Hogwarts and
Hermione was sure that she could subtly let it be known that Harry was hers. She supposed, deep
down, that it was silly of her to be possessive of Harry, but she was. Maybe that was just part of
loving him so much.



“Well, it was good while it lasted,” Harry joked to John as the shirt was snatched from him.



John laughed in return, rolling his eyes and shaking his head slightly. “Granger women!” he
sighed.



Jane slapped her husbands arm, then took a smaller gift out of the bag and gave it to Harry.



Harry picked it up observing that it was kind of heavy, but relatively thin. He unwrapped it to
find a silver framed photograph of Hermione and him standing on the boardwalk in Atlantic City. He
recognized that it had been taken the day of their psychic reading. “This is great!” he exclaimed,
showing it to Hermione, then to her father. “I’ll put it on my bedside table,” he told them.



“When we get back to Hogwarts it will be like normal pictures,” she told him. Of course, when
Hermione said “normal pictures” she meant the kind that moved. However, in the Muggle world, the
photo was quite still.



Hermione then gave him her first gift. It was the medium sized box wrapped in yellow, blue, and
red paper. He ripped off the paper then opened to box and took out a water globe. It was a
miniature figure of Atlantic City. “It’s not much,” Hermione said almost apologetically. “I got it
while mom and I were shopping.”



“Are you kidding?” Harry asked. “I love it.” Only the two of them knew how significant Atlantic
City had been to them. It was where Harry had revealed the prophecy and she had vowed to stick with
him no matter what kind of danger it put her in. It was there that they had had time to spend with
one another alone and really test the waters of their newfound love.



“Well, it’s kind of cheesey,” she said.



“No, it’s not,” he said before he kissed her cheek. “It’s where we fell more deeply in love than
I ever imagined we could,” he whispered in her ear, making her blush.



“I have another one for you,” she said as she placed the box in front of him. She suddenly
picked it up again and added, “This is what I got for you before we left home.” She set it down
again, but then took it back once more. “I thought it was something you needed. But I got something
added to it recently--with a little help from mom.”



“Hermione, stop giving him a dissertation and let him open his present!” John laughed. He found
his daughter’s introduction to the present quite comical.



She gave him an evil stare before releasing the present for Harry to open.



“This is too much,” he said, taking the second present hesitantly. He unwrapped the small
package and found a black velvet box. He opened it slowly, almost reverently. “Hermione!” he
exclaimed, taking a gold watch out of the box. The face of the watch was an ebony black and it had
golden Roman numerals in the 12, 3, 6, and 9 positions with golden slashes to mark the other
numbers.



“Read the back,” she told him, touching his hand softly.



*“To HJP, my love, for all time, HJG”* he read aloud. He wasn’t sure, but there was a
stinging sensation in his eyes that he thought may have been tears. “”Mione,” he said again. It was
the only word he could form.



She took the watch from his hand and placed it on his wrist. Harry stared at the watch on his
wrist, completely overwhelmed by it along with the Granger’s generosity. “Thank you,” he told
her.



Hermione smiled brightly. “I love you,” she told him and she didn’t bother to whisper it.



“I love you too,” he answered. “For all time.” Harry, too, spoke in his normal voice. He didn’t
mind that her parents heard. There was no point in hiding that the loved each other. He gave her a
quick kiss on the lips, just enough to say thank you without embarrassing her, himself, or her
parents.



“Do you want to dance?” Hermione asked, glancing at other couples who were doing so.



“How emotionally attached are you to your toes?” he grinned as he scooted out of the booth, took
her hand, and led her to the shiny hardwood floor.



A new song* started just as they arrived on the dance floor. They held each other close and the
words touched them deeply:



*Oh, why you look so sad?
Tears are in your eyes
Come on and come to me now.
Don't be ashamed to cry,
let me see you through
Cause I've seen the dark side too.
When the night falls on you,
you don't know what to do,
Nothing you confess
could make me love you less
I'll stand by you,
I'll stand by you,
won't let nobody hurt you,
I'll stand by you.
So, if you're mad get mad,
don't hold it all inside,
Come on and talk to me now.
And hey, what you got to hide?
I get angry too
But I'm a lot like you.
When you're standing at the crossroads,
don't know which path to choose,
Let me come along,
cause even if your wrong
I'll stand by you,
I'll stand by you,
won't let nobody hurt you,
I'll stand by you.
Take me into your darkest hour,
and I'll never desert you.
I'll stand by you.
And when, when the night falls on you baby,
you're feeling all alone,
You won't be on your own,
I'll stand by you.
I'll stand by you
I'll stand by you,
won't let nobody hurt you.
I'll stand by you
Take me in into your darkest hour
and I'll never desert you
I'll stand by you.*





“Oh my,” Hermione whispered, “I think this song was written for us.” It perfectly expressed what
she felt.



“I think you’re right,” Harry answered. He pressed his lips to hers to kiss her gently as they
continued to sway with the music.



They were so captivated by one another, the music, and their kiss that they did not hear two
distinctive *pops*.



“Dammit,” they heard a snarl. “We thought you were alone.” Whoever growled at them had no qualms
about interrupting their intimate moment.



They broke their kiss. “Professor Lupin! Professor Snape! What are you doing here?” Hermione
asked, startled, but not frightened by them. More than anything, she was surprised that the two
wizards had apparated into the middle of a dance floor. Luckily, the restaurant was so dark that no
one seemed to have noticed. The two men were dressed in Muggle-looking attire and did not stand out
from the other patrons.



“Harry has to go back to the Dursleys now,” Remus told them. His expression made it clear that
he was not happy about it.



“Come on so we can talk without looking conspicuous,” Harry said, leading them all off the dance
floor and back to the booth where the Grangers were seated.



The waiter was placing their food on the table. Hermione picked up Harry’s gifts off the seat
and placed them at the end of the table She and Harry squeezed back into the booth very tightly so
that Remus could sit next to them and Hermione motioned for Snape to sit next to her mother.
Looking quite unhappy about it, Snape did so, introducing himself to the Grangers and also
introducing Remus.



Her parents were obviously taken aback at the arrival of the two wizards. “We’re here for
Harry,” Snape told them. “He must return to the Dursleys immediately.”



“But they’re not expecting me,” Harry argued. “They’ll be angry if I come back early.” His
expression was unreadable, but the more astute members of the dinner party picked up on his
apprehension.



John’s eyes narrowed at Harry’s statement. He wondered exactly what would happen if Harry made
them angry.



“They’ll get over it,” Snape snapped in his usual arrogant tone.



“No,” Harry replied. “We have to at least tell them I’m coming back. They don't like
surprises, especially magical ones.”



“There’s no time,” Remus explained. He certainly seemed more attentive to Harry’s objection than
Snape did, but he knew that there was not time to warn them of his arrival. “You only have to stay
an hour. Then you can take a portkey back to Headquarters.”



“I’m going with him,” Hermione volunteered decidedly. “He doesn’t have to go alone.”



“No, Ms. Granger, you’re coming with us,” Snape told her. “Your parents should accompany us as
well.” He looked to the still surprised couple.



“What’s the meaning of all this?” John asked. “I see no reason for Harry to go back there alone.
We can go with him, and then onto wherever you want us to go,” he reasoned.



Severus turned to Harry, “The Dark Lord has new plans for Mr. Potter. Measures must be taken to
ensure his safety.”



“And you’re sending him back to the Dursleys in the name of interest in his safety?” John
snorted.



Harry caught John’s eye and shook his head slightly, silently asking the man to not make an
issue of his treatment by his relatives. John got the message and it only added to his frustrations
over Harry’s situation. He was so typical of an mistreated child who wanted to keep his troubles
secret.



“I understand,” Harry broke in. In truth, he did not understand. He had spent time with them
already. He wondered why it had not been enough.



“You won’t have to stay long, Harry,” Remus offered. “Just an hour. Then you can use the portkey
to come back to the Order. Dumbledore has discovered that you must spend some time in their home on
your birthday.** Happy birthday, by the way.”



“Just an hour?” he repeated. He sincerely hoped that Vernon would be at work when he arrived. As
long as he was with his aunt, the blood bond would be solidified.



“What’s this Dark Lord?” Jane asked, finally finding her bearings enough to speak to the
wizards.



“An evil wizard who’s highest priority is to kill me,” Harry answered. He had hoped that by the
time the Grangers found out about Voldemort the story would be entirely told in the past tense.



“Why would he want to kill you?” Jane asked. “You’re just a kid. You’re a good kid.”



“He’s not *just* a kid,” Hermione sighed. “He’s The Boy Who Lived. Voldemort tried to kill
Harry when he was a baby,” Hermione began. “But the curse backfired and nearly destroyed him while
Harry only got that scar.”



“He killed my parents,” Harry added sadly. “That’s how they died. He wanted to kill me and they
died.”



“He’s tried to kill Harry 3 times since,” Hermione told them.



“And you’ve survived this man four times?” Jane asked, shocked. “How?”



Harry shrugged. “It’s a long, long story.”



“One that you can tell in greater detail once we’re all back at Headquarters,” Snape
interrupted. “We don’t have time to go through the saga of the famous Harry Potter right now.“



Harry was actually glad that Snape had interrupted. He did not want to go through the laundry
list of his encounters with Voldemort. As good as the Grangers had been to him, he was afraid it
would all end when they found out how much danger Hermione was in due to a relationship with
him.



“Why do you want my parents to come?” Hermione asked, trying to understand. Muggles were not
commonly invited into the wizarding world. Her parents had been to Diagon Alley, but taking them to
Grimauld Place? That was unheard of!



“It will all be explained there. However, it is necessary that they come with us,” Snape
answered. “Harry should portkey to his family immediately.” He took the snow globe, the first
object within his reach, and muttered an incantation, stealthily hiding his wand from view. “Here.
This will do.” He placed the globe in the empty box so that Harry would not activate it while still
at the table. “Take it into the men’s room and then touch it. It will take you to your family.
Then, in one hour, touch it again and it will bring you to headquarters. We will help Ms. Granger
and her family get there and will be waiting for you to return.”



“Good luck, Harry,” Remus said sincerely.



“I love you,” Hermione told him, unconcerned with expression her affection in front of the
wizards. He told her he loved her too and kissed her forehead.



“Does anyone want my lasagne?” Harry asked, defeated. He pushed the plate toward the center of
the table and exited. “See you in an hour, sharp.” He looked at his watch to make sure he knew what
time he could leave Privet Drive again. “You were right, ’Mione. I do need the watch.”







*”I’ll Stand By You” by the Pretenders.

**For the sake of continuity and allowing Harry to have a partially happy birthday, please
ignore time zones. Thank You!








18. PART 18 Unwelcome Return
----------------------------

A/N: This chapter contains violence, but I do not think it crosses the line from a PG-13 type
violence. I've seen worse in PG-13 movies. However, if you want to skip this chapter what
happens will be summed up well enough in the next that this one is not necessary to read.

A/N 2: Thanks for the reviews. Thanks to Tawney Spitfyre for the ideas about time zones too.
When I go back and edit again, I may use that.




Harry went into the men's room of the restaurant and, making sure no one else was there,
touched the portkey water-globe. He felt the tug behind his naval, saw a blur, then landed on his
rear in the living room of #4.

A tall blonde woman with wispy hair and a tanned complexion squealed in surprise.
"Wha-Where did he come from?" she gasp to Uncle Vernon. Harry did not recognize the
woman, but could tell from her clothes that she was a business associate of his uncle's.

Vernon and Petunia glared at him maliciously. Harry said nothing, afraid to make things
worse.

"It's the kitchen boy," Vernon explained. "Neighbor kid we hired to do odd
jobs around the house. He's saving for college. Always been a bit clumsy, that one. He
must've tripped on his way in to gather the teacups."

"Oh, yeah, er, sorry," Harry answered.

"Harry, Petunia started in a very fake sweet voice, "You should have waited until Mrs.
Blakeney left before you started cleaning."

"Yes, I apologize." Harry said, playing along. "I didn't realize anyone was
still here. I didn't mean to interrupt." He was relieved that someone was there. It would
prevent Vernon from blowing up at him for appearing with no warning.

"Oh, no, dear," Mrs. Blakeney answered. "It's quite all right. I was just
about to leave." She got up from the sofa. "Vernon, Petunia, it was a lovely evening. I
didn't realize how late I had kept you up. I'll be calling soon in regard to an order for
my company."

Vernon got the woman's lavender silky wrap and put it over her shoulders, then escorted her
to the door. After he closed the door, he turned back to Harry who was standing with the
water-globe still in his hand. His face was purple with rage. "What is the meaning of
this?" he snapped. "How dare you drop in from the sky while I'm entertaining a
potential client?

"I didn't mean to," Harry said again. "I had to come back for an hour. There
was no time to let you know."

"Your kind has no consideration for others!" He pounded his fist into the wall.
"I'm sick of it!"

Harry backed away from his uncle. "I'll be gone in--"

"Shut your trap!" Vernon yelled. He was so angry that Harry could feel heat radiating
from his body as he got closer. "Did the Grangers get tired of you? Did they send you back to
be rid of you?" He asked with his face inches from Harry's. He pushed Harry as hard as he
could and Harry landed against the coffee table, breaking it. The portkey flew from Harry's
hand as he fell.

"No, sir. I ha--" He was cut off as Vernon's approached him again. Vernon had no
intention of letting Harry explain anything.

"Now look what you've done!" He yelled as Harry got up from the floor.

"I'm sorry!" Harry said, his eyes met his aunt's pleading with her for help,
but Petunia turned from him and walked up the stairs, leaving him to face his uncle alone. Vernon
had never been this angry before. He raised his voice, desperate to make Petunia understand.
"It's because of Vold--"

"Your behavior could cost me my business!" Vernon yelled as he reached out for Harry,
grabbing him tightly around his neck. "That's what you want, isn't it? You want to
make me fail." His eyes were bulging as he tightened his hold on Harry. Harry was pulling at
his arms, trying to free himself.

Harry realized he couldn't get Vernon's hands to budge and instinctively kicked at the
man, struggling to be able to breathe. He managed a strong blow just above his uncle's
ankle.

Vernon dropped Harry, to massage his leg. Harry was lying on the floor beside him, gasping for
air.

Harry tried to crawl away from Vernon, in an effort to find a safer spot that did not exist. The
next thing he knew, Vernon had kicked him hard in the chest, winding him. He was saying something
about Harry kicking him, but he was not focused on Vernon's words. He heard bones crack at the
impact. He reached for the portkey, hoping it would work despite the fact that it had not been an
hour since it was used last.

"This what you want, boy?" Vernon asked, taking the miniature version of Atlantic City
in his hand. He was hovering threateningly above Harry. "Have it!" He slammed the
delicate orb against Harry's head as he was trying to pull himself out of Vernon's reach.
It was the last thing Harry was aware of happening to him.















19. PART 19 The Wrath of Hermione
---------------------------------

"He'll be here any minute," Hermione said cheerfully as she counted down the
seconds to midnight. "There. It's tomorrow." She looked up as if she expected Harry
to appear before her immediately.



She, her parents, Snape, Lupin, Dumbledore, and Arthur Weasley were in kitchen of Grimauld place
sipping tea while they waited for Harry. Her parents had been introduced to Dumbledore and
reintroduced to Arthur whom they had met before in Diagon Alley. Arthur was asking them all kinds
of questions about Muggle life, fascinated by their work, home, and methods of doing things he
relied upon magic to do. He was most interested in having one or both of them examine his teeth and
had volunteered all his children for dental appointments as well.



Hermione had noticed that Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling more than usual when he looked at
her. He seemed to be trying to surpress a big grin and she wondered what was going through his
mind. She had an urge to ask him out right, "Why are you twinkling at me?" It was
unnerving.



She checked her watch again. It was 12:03. "He should have been here by now," she
said, starting to worry.



Snape looked at his own watch, "Ms. Granger, the boy is rarely prompt. Three minutes is no
cause for alarm." Hermione glared at him. Harry was not late to his class very often, really
no more than anyone else.



By 12:07, Hermione was pacing the floor of the kitchen and looking out the window every few
minutes as if she expected him to be outside.



At 12:12, John said, "I wonder what's keeping him?" He knew that Harry would not
want to spend one minute extra with his family and he worried about Harry's prediction that
they would be angry if he arrived unexpectedly.



A strained silence fell upon them. At 12:16, Hagrid offered to go get Harry. "Those are
some awful Muggles," he said.



"Let's wait a few more moments," Dumbledore suggested. He picked up a tin of
biscuits and passed them around, though no one took one.



"Leave it to Potter to keep us waiting expectantly for his grand entrance," Snape
growled irritably.



"You seem to have something against Harry," John turned to Snape, accusation in his
voice.



"He hated Harry's father and can't quite understand that Harry is not James
Potter," Hermione snapped. What would Snape do? He could not take points from Gryffindor since
they were not in school. And it was highly unlikely he could become any more unpleasant in
class.



"I--" Snape started, but he was cut off by the headmaster.



"I do believe she has a point, Severus," Dumbledore said softly, the twinkle never
leaving his eye.



Snape was silent, sulking at being reprimanded, even gently, by Dumbledore.



Jane remained quiet, but started clearing the teacups from everyone, even those who had not
finished drinking their tea. She took them to the sink to wash them, just to have something useful
to do.



"I'm worried about him," John admitted as he checked his watch again. "He
said he would stay one hour. He hates being with those people and I know they mistreat him."
It was 12:24.



"He's right, Dumbledore," Arthur said. "I hate to speak ill of someone
I've had so little dealing with, but that uncle of his is a rather vile and unreasonable
man."



"He's only going to be there an hour. What is so terrible about that?" Snape
asked, annoyed at the amount of stress Potter's tardiness was causing. He was certain that the
boy would arrive, perfectly well, and perfectly late.



"Harry knew they would be angry with him," Remus, who had been silent thus far, added.
"Maybe they won't let him leave now that he's back."



"He has a perfectly good portkey," Snape reminded him.



"His uncle could have broken it," Hermione said nervously. "He hates everything
associated with magic. I bet that's exactly what happened. They broke the portkey and Harry
can't get here because he can't apparate yet."



"I'll go get him," Arthur said. "I've been to his house before. I think I
can handle Dursley."



"I want to help you," John offered. He feared that the man had hurt more than the
portkey.



"You'll be of no use," Snape said to him, still angry that John had accused him of
having a grudge against the boy.



"Severus," Dumbledore said his name with great disappointment. "John Granger may
very well be a valuable asset to our group."



"I'm going too," Hermione walked back to the table to join her father and Mr.
Weasley.



"No!" John, Arthur, Remus, Hagrid, and Dumbledore all said in unison. Hermione opened
her mouth to reply, but was too stunned by their reaction.



"I want Severus to stay with me. The rest of you all may go," Dumbledore said. "I
trust that between the four of you, you can handle any situation. I have some more research to do
regarding the information that Severus has brought to my attention. I may need his
assistance."



"Professor, do you really think it necessary to send--" Snape started, but was cut off
again.



"The more protection that Harry has, the better," he answered, effectively ending
Snape's objections.



"Be careful," Hermione said as they prepared to leave.



Remus took John Granger's hand as he had done earlier in Vermont. By doing so, he was able
to apparate with the Muggle at his side. Three *pop'*s later they were all inside the den
of 4 Privet Drive.



"Lumos," Arthur muttered, lighting the tip of his wand.



John instinctively reached for the light switch to illuminate the room. His stomach lurched at
the site before him. The furniture of the once tidy home was in disarray. A lamp had been knocked
over and broken. The coffeetable was leaning awkwardly with only three legs. The globe that
Hermione had given Harry just hours before was on the floor, shattered. The carpet beneath it was
wet and the glass looked distinctly like it was covered in blood. "Harry!" he called.
"Harry, where are you?"



"I'll kill 'im," Hagrid said gruffly. "Come out Dursley, you troll!"
He stormed up the stairs to look for Vernon.



Arthur followed, determined to keep Hagrid from carrying out his threat. "We'll look
upstairs. You two check down here," he called as he followed the half-giant in bounds up the
stairs.



"Where's Harry?!" they heard Hagrid boom as he threw open the door to the
Dursley's bedroom. A shrill female scream followed.



"I know where he is!" John said to Remus while he darted to the door of the cupboard.
It was shut with a padlock. "Harry," he called. "Are you in there?" He fumbled
uselessly with the lock.



"In the cupboard?" Remus asked, disbelieving. He muttered an "alohamora" to
unlock the door. It swung open and Harry who had been shoved into the tiny space, fell out,
unconscious and bleeding from his head. His breath sounded raspy. "Harry!" he gasp. He
helped John lay the boy flat on the carpet. When he took his hand away from Harry's shoulder,
he realized it was wet with blood.



Even though he was a dentist, John had had to learn basic emergency techniques in his medical
training. He checked for Harry's pulse. "Heart rate is good," he muttered.
"Could you make that wand light up again?" he asked Remus.



Remus obliged and John used it like a pinlight to peer into Harry's eyes. "He has a
concussion," he announced. "We need to stop this bleeding," he said. "Can you
find a towel, or--"



Remus jumped up and went into the kitchen. He returned with several clean hand-towels and
pressed them to Harry's skull. "I'm not very good with healing spells," he said
with regret in his voice. "I'm afraid I would make it worse if I tried to make it
better."



"Apply gentle pressure,"John told him.



They heard yelling from up the stairs. Hagrid was threatening the Muggles and Arthur was trying
to calm him. "Just tell us where he is," Hagrid bellowed.



"We've found him," Remus yelled up the stairs, while watching John unbutton
Harry's shirt.



He gently traced his fingers over the boy's sides, shaking his head. "Some of these
ribs are broken. We've got to get him to a hospital. Don't move him," John told Remus.
"I'll call for an ambulance."



"No, don't!" Remus stopped him. "We'll take him back with us and get a
mediwitch to heal him."



"What?" John asked, stunned. "You can't move him like this. You could do more
damage," he argued. "Those ribs could puncture a lung if they haven't
already."



"It's okay," Remus said. "We can move him without hurting him. I
promise."



Arthur and Hagrid came down the stairs again. "You should've let me finish him
off," Hagrid was telling Mr. Weasley. He stopped still when he saw Harry lying unconscious on
the floor. "I'm goin' to kill 'im," he announced, turning to go back up the
stairs.


"No, you're not!" Arthur said. "You'll just get yourself in trouble and
then who will help us protect Harry from You -Know-Who?" That did the trick. Hagrid abandoned
his wrath in order to focus on Harry.



"Hagrid, you're the strongest among us. I want you to lift Harry very gently. Be
careful, now. He has some broken ribs. Arthur, you apparate with John. I'll take care of
Dursley."



Remus had created a stretcher under Harry and bound him to it. Hagrid easily lifted it in his
arms and popped out.



"Why don't you let us help you take care of Dursley?" Arthur asked with an evil
grin on his face.



*****************************



"Oh my god! What happened to him?" Jane gasp as Hagrid appeared. She jumped to her
feet to help him.



Hermione screamed and ran to Hagrid. "Harry!" she cried, seeing his still bleeding
form.



In seconds, Dumbledore and Snape were in the room, having heard Hermione's scream.



Hagrid gently placed the stretcher and Harry on the table. There were tears in his eyes.
"He's hurt bad, Headmaster."



"How?" Snape sputtered. "Death Eaters can't breach his home."



"It wasn't Death Eaters you stupid git!" Hermione wailed as she lunged at the
professor beating her hands against his chest. "It was his uncle! He's a monster! You
didn't tell them that Harry was coming back!" she sobbed, clinging to Snape's robes.
"You made him go back alone! He told you they'd be angry, but you made him go back
alone!" She sank to the knees, overwhelmed by sobs. "Harry, Harry," she whispered
softly. She was terrified by the amount of blood seeping from the wound in his scalp.



"Hagrid, floo to Poppy immediately. She's asleep at this hour, I'm sure. You'll
have to go wake her." Dumbledore ordered.



Hagrid nodded and exited.



Jane was examining Harry just as her husband had done. She pried his eyes open to check for a
reaction and announced that he had a concussion. His hair was matted with blood and his breathing
was shallow and strained. "I can't tell if there's damage to his throat or lungs or
both," she told them. There were large fingerprint bruises on both sides of his neck. "I
do know that someone tried to strangle him."



Dumbledore watched, but did not interfere with her examination. He knew that Poppy would arrive
shortly and provide an accurate assessment. He did not doubt Mrs. Granger's assessment, but was
certain that Madame Pomfrey would be able to tell more about his internal state.



"Severus, see if you can find a calming potion for Ms. Granger. I'm not sure she can
handle this."



"Can you?" He motioned downward to the girl who was clinging to him while she cried.
Snape had been too shocked by Harry's state to be angered by Hermione's reaction.



"Come on, Hermione," Dumbledore said, lifting the girl with a strength not expected
from one so aged. "Harry will be fine, my dear." He helped Hermione to a chair.



She glanced back at the table and saw her bruised and bloodied boyfriend. She looked away
quickly, unable to take the sight of him, but hating herself for being so weak. "Make him
better," she whispered hoarsely.



"We will," he assured her. "And you'll be there for him when he wakes
up."



Poppy and Hagrid arrived. "My goodness," Poppy fussed, "What has Potter gotten
himself into this time?"



Jane explained to her what she had found while Poppy checked him magically. "You're
very accurate, Miss," she said approvingly. She found that he did have a concussion, four ribs
broken on his left side, trauma to his trachea, and a large gash on his scalp. She muttered an
incantation to repair his broken bones and took several healing potions from her bag and began to
apply them. She had an idea of what to bring from the description Hagrid had given her.



Hagrid had joined Dumbledore with Hermione. "It'll be all right. He's a strong one,
that boy." Hagrid told her in his most comforting voice.



Snape returned to the kitchen with a potion for Hermione. "Take this," he told
her.



"I don't want anything from you," she said, slapping it away. The bottle fell to
the floor with a clatter.



"Now, Hermione, you can't blame Severus for this," Dumbledore started.



"Yes I can!" she spat. "He wouldn't let me go with Harry. If I'd been
with him, if anyone had been with him, his uncle wouldn't have done this. Even my dad offered
to go with Harry."



"How was I to know the Muggle would beat him?" Snape argued. "He didn't tell
me that."



"As if he would! You treat him like dirt, like an attention seeking drama queen, but you
don't know. You just make assumptions based on James. James is dead! Harry never even knew him.
If you'd act like an adult instead of thirteen year old bully, Harry might trust you!" She
screamed with years of pent up anger. "Just get away from me. Get away from Harry. Go grow
up!"



"Severus was doing as I instructed him to do," Dumbledore told her calmly.



Hermione's eyes flared with renewed anger. "That's right. He was. You. You who have
sent Harry to those people year after year when he's asked over and over again not to go. You
left them with him and let them starve him and keep him locked in a closet when he was a
child."



"There are things you do not yet understand," Dumbledore said gently, despite the fact
that Hermione's rage had just targeted him as she forgot about Snape.



"I understand more than you know," she snapped. It did not matter to her that this was
her headmaster or that she had just verbally and physically attacked a teacher. She paid no thought
to anything but protecting Harry from everyone who was a threat to him and, at this point, that
meant even Dumbledore.



"Everything I have done has been with the best of intentions, to protect Harry, to make him
happy."



"Happy? Do you think he was happy when he was little and they worked him like a house elf,
dressed him in rags, fed him scraps, and verbally abused him? Do you think he was happy being
called a freak and getting beaten up by his cousin?"



Hagrid looked away from her, as if he felt guilty. He had had no idea that Harry's family
treated him poorly until he was sent to get the boy.



"Hermione, it was all for the greater good."



"Who's greater good?" she asked meekly, as her focus returned. She left Dumbledore
and Hagrid to be by Harry's side. Her falling apart would not help him, nor would berating
everyone in earshot.



"Where are the others?" Hagrid asked. He had expected them to be back by the time he
returned. "They said something about taking care of Dursley. They wouldn't let me do
it."



"Severus, you should see what is keeping them," Dumbledore started, but he was
interrupted by the three men's arrival. "Where is Dursley?" he asked.



"Why, we brought him to you," Lupin said innocently. He took a very harassed looking
slug from his pocket and handed him to Dumbledore, coming just short of the man's hand,
"Oops, dropped him."



"I'll take care of him," Dumbledore said, levitating the slug and taking him from
the room.



"How is Harry?" John asked, placing a hand on Hermione's shoulder. She was sitting
at the table, watching Madame Pomfrey work with him.



"Better than he was," she whispered. "I'm so glad you went to find
him."



"I'm going to get Molly," Arthur told them. "She would want to be here. She
loves Harry like he's her own, you know." Mr. Weasley headed to fireplace.



"We should move him to a bed," Madame Pomfrey instructed. "I've done all I
can do. He needs time to heal." She had mended his bones and his trachea. His breathing was
steady and easy, but he was still out cold. "I'll stay to monitor him, of
course."



"He's going to be okay?" Hermione asked her hopefully, tears still brimming in her
eyes.



"Yes, he will be. I imagine he'll have quite a headache when he wakes up
though."



"Thank you!" Hermione hugged her impulsively.



"Um, you're welcome," she said, returning the hug. "Now, go on up with Harry.
You need some rest too."



Once again Hagrid lifted the stretcher and Harry. Hermione, her mother, and Madame Pomfrey
followed him up the stairs to the nearest bedroom where they placed him on the bed.










20. PART 20 At His Bedside
--------------------------

Hermione was sitting by Harry's bedside. She had given up on reading the large book that
Molly had given her to pass the time. Her elbow was propped on the chair's arm and she was
leaning her head against her hand. Her eyes were closed, but she was not asleep, though she was
exhausted. She had stayed up most of the night watching Harry sleep--she hoped it was just sleep.
He was so still that it worried her. He had barely moved a muscle. She knew that was unlike him. He
usually turned from one side to the other or to his back a few times each night. He was on his
back, just as he had been when Hagrid placed him there. He was covered with a soft agate blue quilt
and was very pale. His head was bandaged and so was his chest. His ribs had been healed, but would
be fragile for a few days.



It was nearly impossible to believe that they had been in Vermont only hours ago, that not a day
had passed since they were happy, hiking, laughing, eating, dancing...



Occasionally, her breath would catch in a hitch. She was certain she had never cried so much in
her life. She would have bet she had shed more tears in that one night than she had in her entire
fifteen years. Her mother, father, and Mrs. Weasley has all begged her to rest. Madame Pomfrey had
come in twice to check on Harry and apply more balms to his outer wounds. At one point she tried to
order Hermione to go to bed, but Hermione refused. She had dozed off a couple of times out of sheer
exhaustion, but she never slept for long. She could not bear to be apart from Harry with him hurt
so badly. She was not sure she would have been able to part from him anyway. She felt as if he was
part of her. She vowed she would not leave his side and no one had the heart to argue with her.
Perhaps no one wanted to cross her after what they had witnessed the night before.



Molly had brought another calming potion in the early hours of the morning, but it still sat in
a goblet next to the book. "You won't be of any help to Harry when he does wake up,"
she had said.



The house was very quiet. It had been a late night and she supposed her parents might still be
asleep. Lupin and Dumbledore had stayed behind. Mr. Weasley was at work at the Ministry by now.
Hagrid and--she hoped--Snape had returned to Hogwarts. Molly was downstairs, probably cooking and
cleaning. That's how she stayed busy in a crisis.



None of the Weasley children had arrived yet. She was sure that Ron, at least, would be there
soon. She had not given a thought as to what she would say to him. If she had, she would have
realized that his mother had already figured out Harry and Hermione's relationship had
progressed into a deeper level of love and commitment. Hermione's reaction to his injuries had
been far more than that of "just a friend."



Having her sanity somewhat back in place, Hermione could not believe her actions the night
before. She had yelled at, told off even, Professor Snape after beating his chest in her very
girlish way. But more unheard of, she had told off the headmaster. She, Hermione Granger, 15 year
old witch, had verbally blasted the most powerful wizard of the age. She opened her eyes to look at
Harry again and wondered if maybe she'd told off the second most powerful wizard of the age.
She was truly amazed by Harry, the things he had done. He had survived four run-ins with Voldemort.
While Dumbledore had fought the evil wizard, even he had not managed to kill him, only to survive.
It was up to Harry to kill him. "You're amazing, Harry," she whispered, reaching out
to stroke his hand. "You'll get through this." It would have been too much to take if
Harry fell to his uncle.



She lifted his limp hand and kissed it. "I love you so much, Harry. You can't leave
me." She leaned closer to him and spoke softly, "We're going to get through all of
this. We're going to get married one day. And we'll have about 10 kids, so you can be the
father to them that you never had. You'll be a great dad, Harry. Our kids will be happy and
they'll have rooms of their own and clothes and plenty of food. And we'll be there to tuck
them in at night and if they have nightmares, which will be rare, we'll be there to comfort
them. They'll all have your green eyes and your bravery--"



"And really big, really messy hair."



Hermione looked up in shock. Ron was standing beside her. He had heard what she had said to
Harry. He knew that she loved him. This was not the way he was supposed to find out. They were
going to tell him together. "Ron!" she exclaimed, unable to find another word.



"Hi," he smiled at her. She thought there may have been something in his smile.
Regret? "How is he? Mum told me what happened. I can't believe Dad didn't wake me up
last night. I would have been here immediately."



"Not too good," she sighed, turning back to Harry. "He has barely moved since
Hagrid put him here. He's so still, Ron. It worries me."



"You look terrible," Ron told her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.
"Why don't you get some sleep. I'll stay with Harry."



"I can't," she told him. "I have to be here when he wakes up." She
reached out to stroke Harry's cheek. "He's too cold, Ron. Can you find another
blanket?" she implored, looking up at him.



"Sure," he said. "I'll be back in a few minutes." He patted her shoulder
and left the room.



"I think he's okay with it," she whispered to Harry. "You went to a lot of
trouble to get out of telling him." She tried to smile, wishing it were that simple.
"You're too cold," she rubbed his hand trying to warm it up. The result did not
satisfy her. She walked around the bed and then gently got in it with Harry, careful to not jar
him. She laid on her side next to him. "I'm here, Harry. I'm not leaving you,"
she promised.



When Ron returned he found Hermione curled as close to Harry as she could be and finally asleep.
He took the blanket in his hands and placed it over his two best friends. "It took you long
enough," he whispered.





A/N: Thanks for all the reviews. They make writing so much more fun and make me want to keep
going!



harryishot55-- Bon Jovi and H/Hr. You're the buddy I've been looking for! LOL



I regret that I won't be able to post more until Monday when I'm back at work.




















21. PART 21 Confrontation with a Slug
-------------------------------------

*A/N: Thanks for the continued reviews. I really appreciate everyone who takes the time to
comment. I also got a program that lets me create .html documents at home so now I can upload from
my home computer. :D*



"Professor Dumbledore," Ron whispered. The older man had come into the room
soundlessly. Ron had taken the chair Hermione had left after he placed the blanket over her.
"She's finally asleep," he said softly jerking his head toward Hermione.



"I see that," he said, his eyes twinkling again. "I also see that Harry's
color has improved."



Ron was a little uncomfortable with the headmaster finding Hermione in the bed with Harry.
"You're not going to get onto her for sleeping there, are you?"



Madame Pomfrey had come to check on Harry and tutted as if she had been scandalized by the sight
of two students sleeping in the same bed. "At least Ms. Granger is getting some rest,"
she had finally said, softening as she checked Harry and found some improvement. It was impossible
to not be moved by the devotion Hermione had shown him. She could not help but think back to when
Hermione had been attacked by the basilisk and Harry had brought her flowers and sat by her
bedside, holding her petrified hand.



"Of course not. I'm sure she's exactly where she belongs." As usual,
Dumbledore's reaction was unlike what anyone else's would have been. Besides, I
wouldn't want to earn another tongue-lashing from Ms. Granger should I suggest she move."
He winked at Ron who was now thoroughly shocked.



Hermione, tongue-lashing, and Dumbledore? What had he missed last night?



"Though," Dumbledore continued, "I did fare better than Professor Snape who is
probably still nursing his bruised ego this morning."



Ron's eyes bulged. Hermione had told off Snape too? "What got into her?" he
muttered, shaking his head in disbelief.



"I believe it is called love, Mr. Weasley." He looked back to the sleeping witch.
"A word to the wise--don't cross Ms. Granger where Harry is concerned."



Ron wondered if that was the headmaster's not so subtle way to warn him to not try to come
between Harry and Hermione. "Professor, I learned a long time ago to not cross Hermione,
period. She's scary. Brilliant, but scary."



Dumbledore nodded and invited Ron to come down for lunch. "Your mother has prepared us a
wonderful meal. She's been busy all morning."



They decided to let Hermione sleep. She needed rest more than she needed food. Ron, on the other
hand, was grateful to have a distraction. It had been a bit depressing for him, knowing that his
two best friends were now a couple. Where did that leave him?



Ron had been gone about thirty minutes when Harry began to stir. He was acutely aware of a
pounding in his head and a dull ache in his chest. He slowly brought his left hand to his skull and
felt the soft bandages. In a flash of memory, he saw Vernon holding the water globe high above him
and bringing it down upon him. He saw a flash of the carpet in the den and remembered a piercing,
suffocating pain in his side.



He moved very slowly, reaching his right hand over, feeling for Hermione. He knew she was with
him. He found her hand.



"Roll over," he told himself, but it seemed it would be an arduous chore. He turned
his head, causing a stabbing sensation, it was as if flashes of light were piercing through his
brain. His vision blurred and he held his eyes tightly shut for a minute before blinking several
times to try to focus. She was facing him, sleeping deeply. She was pale and her face was streaked
from crying. Even asleep, she had dark circles under her eyes.



He squeezed her hand to let her know he was there. He wanted to take her in his arms and hold
her, but he was too sore and too weak to move.



Hermione felt his hand tighten over hers and her eyes fluttered open. She saw beautiful green
eyes watching her intently. "Harry," she whispered.



"Why you look so sad?" he asked, struggling to keep his bleary eyes open.



"He hurt you so badly," another hitch caught in her breath as her eyes filled with
fresh tears. She stroked his cheek, grateful that he felt warmer than he had before.



"I'll be okay," he promised as the darkness pulled him back. It was so inviting,
so strong...



"Harry," she whimpered. She was relieved that he had regained consciousness, even if
it had been brief. She got up carefully to go tell the others and get Madame Pomfrey to check on
him.



She quietly descended the stairs to look for Madame Pomfrey.



"Hermione!" Molly exclaimed when she saw the girl at the kitchen entrance. She rushed
to her side and ushered her in as if she needed help to stand. "Here, sit, have some tea and
something to eat."



"Harry woke up," she started, refusing to sit down. "Just for a minute. I thought
he should be checked."



"Did he say anything?" Dumbledore asked. He wondered if Harry would even remember what
had happened to him.



"He told me I looked sad, then said he would be okay and blacked out again," she
explained. He wasn't awake long. I want someone to check on him," she repeated.



"Of course," Madame Pomfrey agreed and she was headed up the stairs in seconds. Molly
and Hermione followed.



Ron, Remus, and Dumbledore were left in the kitchen. Hermione's parents were both in the
Black family library, intrigued by what they were learning about the magical world.



"That's Harry for you," Remus said. "He notices someone else is hurting even
when he's been through hell."



"What happened to his uncle?" Ron asked. He did not want to bring the subject up in
front of his mother. He could tell she was very rattled over Harry's injuries.



"He's currently in the form of a slug in a small jar in the room I've been using as
an office," Dumbledore answered.



"Did you forget to poke holes in the lid?" Ron asked hopefully with a sly grin on his
face.



Dumbledore gave Ron a reproving look over the top of his spectacles.



"Slug, you say?" Ron reached for the salt shaker on the table and his face shown as if
a brilliant idea had come to him.



"Mr. Weasley," There was a warning in Dumbledore's voice. Ron put the salt back in
place with a frown.



"You know, there's a full moon in a few days," Remus started. "It would be a
shame if I forgot to take my potion and happened upon some poor unsuspecting Muggle, wouldn't
it."



"Remus," The same warning was there.



"Just making conversation, Professor." Remus shrugged his shoulders innocently.
“Things like that happen sometimes.”



"I think you had your fun," Dumbledore replied.



"What did you do?" Ron asked, eager to here the story.



Remus grinned. "First, we let Hagrid get him out of bed and just the sight of Hagrid
terrified the yellow-bellied piece of vermin. Your dad had to keep Hagrid from ripping him limb
from limb. We sent him back with Harry. However, per John Granger's suggestion, I bound him to
a chair and John found this Muggle thing called a drill and approached the scum's mouth.
I'm not sure what a drill does, but John assured me that it would be a horrifying experience
for a Muggle to be approached by a dentist with a large drill. It was this spinning piece of metal
on a base." He shrugged again. "Apparently he was right because he begged John to have
mercy and not hurt him. John laughed and said he would let Arthur and I take over then. We shrank
him, blew him up, gave him jelly legs, turned him green, bounced him around the room like a rubber
ball, levitated him upside down and put a tickling curse on him until he could not breathe, and lit
a fire around him that made him think we were going to burn him alive. The harshest, most
appropriate, thing we did was curse him to feel exactly what he had done to Harry for himself. He
wailed in agony for quite a while. Eventually, we turned him into a slug and brought him to
Dumbledore."



"Cool," Ron said approvingly as the images of Vernon played through his mind.



Dumbledore held one hand to his left ear. "It's funny how deafness strikes me with no
warning on occasion," he commented. "I do wonder what I've missed. I think I will go
check on Harry and maybe my hearing will return to normal," he added as he rose from the
table.



Dumbledore found that Harry was awake again. Hermione was sitting on the bed next to him, Madame
Pomfrey was in the process of changing the dressings on his head. Molly was standing in the corner
of the room, trying to stay out of the mediwitch's way. "You'll be good as new in a
few days," she was saying. "Nasty injury, this was." He wondered if Poppy felt it
was a poor reflection of her skills that she could not heal Harry immediately. He waited until she
was finished to ask if he could speak with Harry alone, then closed the door after the three
females left.



He took the seat where Hermione had spent most of the night. "How are you feeling, my
boy?"



"Okay," Harry replied. He was still paler than normal and sore. However, the potion he
had taken earlier was helping dull the pain in his abused body.



"Do you remember what happened?" Dumbledore prodded.



Harry nodded, but did not volunteer the information.



"Can you tell me about it?"



Harry stared at the ceiling above him, not wanting to make eye contact with the headmaster.
"Vernon," he answered. He did not want to discuss what had happened. There was no use in
talking about it.



"Yes, we gathered that Vernon was the one who attacked you. Can you talk to me about what
happened?"



Harry shrugged. "Nothing."



"Harry, sometimes it's best to deal with things sooner rather than later. If you wait,
the pain can build up and be even worse," his tone was very kind.



"I'm fine," Harry reiterated. "I just have a headache and want to
sleep." He actually felt much better since he had taken the medicine. But he hoped that
Dumbledore would go away to let him rest, go away and stop looking at him with those damn twinkling
blue eyes, go away and let Hermione come back, or just go away.



"What made him angry?" Dumbledore pried.



"You left me on his doorstep," Harry answered dryly. He could not remember a time when
Vernon had not been angry with him, he just remembered differing levels of anger.



Dumbledore considered the answer. Yes, he had known that Harry's uncle was cruel. He had
known the boy was kept in a cupboard and punished severely. "Why do you suppose he became
violent this time?"



"Everyone has their breaking point," Harry responded, tears welling in his eyes. *I
will not cry. I will not cry.* He almost felt sorry for the bastard. He had, after all, had to
put up with Harry for 15 years. He'd had this crazy situation thrust on him with no choice in
the matter, just as Harry had no choice in his life. It was inconsiderate for Harry to fall out of
the sky with no warning. Had they only told Vernon he was coming, Vernon would have gotten rid of
the guest.



"Yes, everyone does," Dumbledore agreed. He knew that Harry was talking about himself,
just as much as, if not more so than he was talking about Vernon Dursley. "Harry, did you
provoke your uncle? Do you think you deserved to be hurt like this?"



The tears Harry was fighting were winning the battle as they slipped out of the corner of his
eye, and slid down his cheek onto his pillow. He swallowed the lump in his throat and remained
quiet.



"Did he let you explain?" Dumbledore asked, refusing to give up and let Harry shoulder
the responsibility for this.



Harry closed his eyes. *Go away. Go away. Go away.* He felt the older man's hand
clutching his own.



"I know you must be wondering why you had to go back to your family and why there was no
time to warn them," he began. "You see, I was researching the blood bond. Even though it
is not as strong and protective as it once was, it is still there. And, Harry, every bit of
protection you have in this situation is imperative. I knew your relatives treated you badly and I
wanted to know if the bond was worth your unhappiness when good people like the Weasleys have
offered to let you stay with them during the holidays. I found a very old passage in an ancient
language that I had to translate which was no easy task in itself. It said that the blood bond
peaks in strength on anniversary of birth because it is the day the familial bond was created. It
was essential that you be with your Aunt at least a portion of your birthday to gain the most
benefit from the remnants of your mother's sacrifice." He squeezed Harry's hand.
"Otherwise, I would not have insisted you return to them. No, I would have been most pleased
for you to finish your holiday abroad."



"It's okay," Harry whispered. "It's not your fault." He never opened
his eyes. He did not want to see those blue eyes he had trusted so much, those eyes that had
betrayed him by keeping the truth from him.



"Harry, what you need to understand is that it is not *your* fault."



"I'm... oh... kay." Harry said as firmly as he could. He was fighting to keep his
teeth from chattering with nerves. His felt as if every nerve in his body was on fire. He did not
want to discuss this. He did not want to talk with anyone about the way his family despised who and
what he was. He found himself sympathizing with the Dursleys more and more. They did not ask for
the responsibility of another baby, a wizard baby who could make things happen without any control
or intent. They had to take on the expense of him when they had their own child to support. They
valued normalcy and he was anything but normal. They had a perfectly nice little life until he came
along and disrupted it for 15 years. What was the gripe he had anyway? They had given him the
scraps of their food, the scraps of Dudley's clothes, the scraps of their space. It was
befitting. He was a scrap, a leftover, and that's what suited him.



Vernon's voice echoed in his mind, "We gave you the food off our table and a roof over
your head." They had done that. What more could he expect? They did not want him. They did not
love him. But they kept him alive. He had disturbed their happiness. His being there put their
lives in danger, but they took care of him anyway. Yes, Vernon was perfectly within his right to be
angry. Harry considered the revenge he had thought he wanted for his miserable first ten years with
them. Revenge for what? He had no right to be angry, none at all.



Dumbledore watched the emotions play across Harry's face. Though he had told himself he
would not pry into the boy's mind, he had caught a glimpse into his thoughts. "Harry, do
you understand that it was wrong for your uncle to hit you like that?" He asked, concerned
about the inappropriate acceptance Harry had for what had happened to him. "Do you understand
that it was wrong of him to break your ribs and to choke you, no matter how angry he was?"



Harry turned his head to face Dumbledore.



"Do you understand that no matter how angry he gets, it is not okay for any adult to hurt a
child? Yes, I know you do not feel like a child. You've not had much of a childhood at all...
and I guess you never will." He added regretfully. "But, Harry, you were entrusted to
this man's care. They had the option to not take you in, but they did. In doing so, they were
bound to care for you. He did not have the right to hurt you. Harry, he could have killed you with
his attack. I'm afraid if we had not sent for you, he may done just that. You do not deserve to
be hurt. You do not deserve to be killed. Yes, you are different from the Dursleys. That does not
make you worse than them, less than them, or beneath them. If a man can be measured by how he
treats others, your uncle falls very short of the standards of decency."



Harry tried to digest what Dumbledore was saying. Of course, he knew in his mind that the aged
wizard was right. The problem lay in getting his heart to accept it. "Who came after me?"
he asked.



"Remus, Hagrid, Arthur, and John Granger."



"Mr. Granger?" he repeated. The man had traveled on a wizard rescue mission for him.
He really did care. "How?"



"Remus took him with him. It was good he did too since John knew exactly where to find you
and that time they saved searching for you was essential."



"The cupboard," Harry whispered. He did not remember being brutally shoved inside it,
bleeding and broken, but he knew that's where his uncle would have put him to die.



Dumbledore nodded. "I fear I may have made a mistake in leaving you with the Dursleys as
your guardians. I focused more on protecting you from the remaining Death Eaters and your own
reputation than I did on simply protecting you."



"My own reputation?" Harry asked, thinking back to his first steps into the wizarding
world. He wondered if things would have been different if he had been brought up as just another
wizard child, rather than being isolated.



"How do you think you would have turned out had you been raised by a wizarding
family?" He was silent while Harry pondered the question.



Harry considered it. Everyone who first met him seemed to do so with either adulation or
contempt with no middle ground. He knew that he had gotten away with breaking rules and that there
were certain perks to being The Boy Who Lived, despite how much he hated it. "Like a cross
between Draco Malfoy and my cousin Dudley," he answered, concluding that he would probably
been spoiled and pampered. But, having witnessed what that life did to two of the boys he loathed
most, he saw the value in not being raised in the midst of his own fame.



Dumbledore gave a slight nod, acknowledging Harry's understanding.



"What happened to my uncle?" Harry asked. It had occurred to him that if Hagrid was
angry, and he surely would have been, that Vernon could have been hurt just as badly as he had hurt
him.



"Your uncle is here, Harry."



Harry looked at Dumbledore, eyes wide. "Wh, why? Where?"



"In a jar in my office."



Harry nodded, then realized what the headmaster had said. "In a jar?"



"Yes, somehow he was transfigured into a slug. I am afraid I was unable to hear any of the
other details."



Harry grinned at the idea of his uncle, the slug.



"It is up to you what shall be done with him. But I do want you to see him before you make
your decision."



"No," Harry responded immediately. "I, I don't want to see him." Fear.
It was growing in his belly like a fire. *No, I can't be afraid. I can't let him do that
to me*. If Voldemort had not reduced him to a quivering coward, surely his uncle could not
either.



"He is in your world now," Dumbledore reminded him. "And I feel that it is only
just that you decide what is done to him after so many years of maltreatment."



Harry was lost in his thoughts for several minutes. What would he do to Vernon? This was his
chance. When he was little, he had wished he could shove Vernon in the cupboard and not feed him
for a week. He had wished he could turn the man into a rat and send him to forage in the sewers. He
had thought of doing magic ad nauseum in front of his uncle, just to watch him squirm. *If a man
can be measured by how he treats others, your uncle falls very short of the standards of
decency*, echoed in his mind.



"Take me to him," Harry requested, trying to stand up.



"Easy, easy," Dumbledore, caught the boy's arm, as he also stood.



When Harry got to his feet, the room swayed and blurred. He grasp Dumbledore's arm tightly
to keep from falling and found himself in the chair beside the bed.



"I don't think you're ready to stand just yet," Dumbledore voiced the
obvious.



"Can you transfigure this into a wheelchair like Muggles use?" Harry asked. He was
sure that a wizard as knowledgeable as Dumbledore would know exactly what a wheelchair was.



"Of course," he answered and with a wave of his wand, Harry was in a sturdy wooden
wheelchair. It was not nearly as fancy as what Muggles used now, but it would do what he needed it
to do.



“Thank you. Where are my glasses?” He asked, looking around the room.



“Broken, I'm afraid. I do not believe that they were returned with you.” Dumbledore easily
conjured a new pair for him.



"Oh, that's better,” Harry said as he put them on. “Please show me where he
is."



Dumbledore pushed Harry to the stairs, then levitated him gently to the first floor. As the room
he used for his make-shift office was on the other side of the house, they did not pass the kitchen
and no one realized Harry was out of bed.



Dumbledore took him to the room and put a locking spell on the door. He then opened the jar that
Vernon was in, tipped it over so the slug would fall out, and transfigured him back into a
human.



Vernon appeared before Harry like a rapidly inflating balloon. In seconds, he was in human form,
standing before the two wizards.



"Mr. Dursley," Dumbledore began. "Your treatment of Mr. Potter was abhorrent. He
has survived your vicious attack, however, and is here to decide what is to be done with
you."



Vernon was unusually silent as he stood before Harry. He actually appeared to be shocked that
Harry was before him in a wheelchair, head bandaged, and in the position to punish him as he saw
fit. The tables were definitely turned.



Harry watched the man for a moment. This was it. The moment he had waited for all his life. The
time for revenge. He knew enough hexes and curses that he could hurt Vernon without killing him and
punish him for every unjust act he had ever perpetrated. Vernon's eyes were darting around the
room, looking for a way to escape, as if he expected Harry to attack him at any moment.



"Vernon," he started. Vernon met his eyes. "I just wanted to tell you... thank
you for the food, the clothes, and the roof over my head." Harry's voice was very cold.
"Thank you for not spoiling me and turning me into a worthless beast like my cousin." He
aimed his wand at a lamp and it exploded into shards.



"Thank you for not feeding me as it has made me very short and scrawny and been very
beneficial to my position as seeker for my Quiddich team." He ignited a copy of the *Daily
Prophet* which burned brightly and disintegrated.



"Thank you for keeping me locked in a closet. I learned very early to not fear the dark and
to not expect comfort." He muttered the incantation to send an angry, hissing cobra from the
tip of his wand. It landed at Vernon's feet, flaring it's neck and exposing it's fangs.
In Parseltongue, Harry instructed the snake to wrap itself around Vernon's legs, crawl over his
body and rest upon his neck. The snake did as it was instructed while sweat and tears flowed from
his uncle.



"Thank you making me self-sufficient," Harry spat. He invited the snake to leave his
uncle and come sit in his own lap. It glided to him soundlessly and Vernon watched in horror as it
obeyed Harry's every command.



"I do not, however, appreciate having my ribs broken, my skull fractured, or being shoved
into a cupboard to die!" He raised his voice slightly and every fragile object in the room
exploded. Vernon was shaking in terror as he watched Harry. He could feel the power radiating from
his nephew. The air was charged with unmistakable energy.



"I, I," Vernon started, clearly trying to formulate some excuse for his hideous
behavior.



"Shut up," Harry snapped. "There's no excuse. You went too far." He
petted the cobra as if it were a harmless kitten.



"I--"



"I said shut up!" Harry sealed his uncle's lips with a flash of light from his
wand. "Do you think I might hurt you?" he asked silkily as he tilted his head to one
side. He waited for Vernon to ponder it and the ever increasing sweat on the man's brow gave
him his answer. "Do you think I might want to pay you back for the loving way you cared for me
for so many years?" he goaded. Vernon's shirt was becoming wet.



"You. Are. Not. *Worth*. It." Harry told him icily. "You will not reduce me
to what you are. Go home, Vernon. But don't forget what you've done. And don't forget
the price you could have paid." With a swish of his wand, everything Harry had destroyed was
made new and the snake disappeared.



Harry gave a nod to Dumbledore and wheeled himself out of the room.



Dumbledore turned to Vernon. "Extraordinary young man," he commented. "I believe
you would have suffered the fate of the lamp had you crossed any other wizard of his
power."



Vernon raised an eyebrow in disbelief.



"That's right, Mr. Dursley. Your nephew is one of the most powerful wizards to be found
anywhere. Even he does not realize how great his skills are." Dumbledore leaned closely into
Vernon. "Still, he knows that could have destroyed you with two words. He could caused you
every bit of pain you have caused him magnified ten thousand times and not had the mercy to end it.
Instead, he's letting you go free." Dumbledore stood straight again. "Yes, Mr.
Dursley, Harry Potter is an extraordinary lad. You may count yourself lucky.”



Vernon was still visibly trembling. He knew the man standing before him was as powerful as he
had just realized Harry was. In addition, this man was obviously as protective of Harry as the
wizards who had entered his home had been, maybe even more so.



"Don't worry, Mr. Dursley. I will not harm you physically since Harry did not see fit
to do so. I do, however, have an item of business to attend to with you before I send you back
where you came from." Dumbledore got a piece of parchment from his desk and brought it to the
terrified man. “You will sign this,” he instructed.



Vernon glanced at the paper and signed his name. Then Dumbledore sent him away in a flash.










22. PART 22 Ten?
----------------

AN: Again, thanks for the reviews. I appreciate the feedback. harryishot85, you should click on
my name and e-mail me! This part is kind of short, but I figured I'd post a little now rather
than making you wait for a really long chapter. I still don't own Harry or is world. I sure
wish I did. LOL





Harry wheeled himself to the base of the staircase. He found himself with a dilemma. He was sure
that he could not walk up the stairs on his own since he was apt to get dizzy. He did not want to
go into the kitchen via the aid of his wheelchair because he realized he must look pathetic and
sickly. So, he sat at the bottom of the stairs, trying to decide which was worse, waiting for
Dumbledore to take him back upstairs or going into the kitchen and being doted upon by Mrs.
Weasley.



The decision was made for him.



"Harry! You're awake!" Jane Granger exclaimed as she and her husband came into the
room from the library. "How are you feeling, dear?" She kneeled beside him and made her
own evaluation. "You look bad, but that's a step up. You looked positively dreadful
before," she told him apologetically.



He looked at her as if he'd just been slapped. "Well, it's true," she shrugged
with a small smile. "Here, we'll help you to the kitchen."



*Drat.* The last thing he needed was to be *helped* to the kitchen while looking
pathetic and sickly.



"I'm okay," he argued, realizing how completely ineffective and unbelievable that
statement was, all things considered.



"Let her take care of you," John suggested. "You deserve some pampering after
what that bastard did to you." He put his hand on Harry's shoulder in a show of
support.



Harry inhaled, putting on a brave face as Jane pushed him into the kitchen. And, there it came:
an enormous burst of sympathy radiating from Hermione, Molly, Ginny, Madame Pomfrey, and even Ron
and Remus. Everyone was exclaiming his name as if they had not seen him in a very long time. Madame
Pomfrey was feeling his forehead one second and taking his pulse the next. Molly pushed Poppy aside
to envelop him in a smothering hug. Ginny was asking if he was all right. Hermione was almost in
tears again. Ron or Remus or both of them clapped their hands to his shoulder and said how good it
was to see him.



"I insist that you all back away from Mr. Potter," Madame Pomfrey snapped. Everyone
did so, except Hermione who's hand Harry had managed to take in the commotion. He pulled her
closer to him and gazing up into her eyes said, "I missed you." That was all it took for
the tears that were threatening to flow in full force down Hermione's cheeks. "Don't
cry," he whispered, hugging her closely.



"I... you... he...." she sobbed. It was not like her to be so emotional, but she was
very tired, drained of all her energy. Here feelings were close to the surface and it was
impossible to surpress them.



Harry rubbed her back gently. "It's okay. I'm fine. I just have a bit of a
headache," he told her.



"Why are you in this chair?" she asked. Her mind was whirring with notions of what the
wheelchair could mean, wondering if he had some kind of spinal or nerve damage. Her heart broke at
the idea that he might not be able to fly on his broom and play Quiddich.



"Oh, I, um, I get a little dizzy when I stand up. It's no big deal. It will go
away." He turned to the mediwitch and pleaded with his eyes, *Tell her it will go
away.*



"To be expected," Madame Pomfrey announced, picking up Harry's silent message.
"You had a severe trauma to the head. Some vertigo, even nausea is normal at this stage of
healing. If you have any double or blurred vision, you should let me know immediately,
however."



"See, it's nothing to worry about," Harry soothed. "I just have to have time
to get better."



"I don't want to loose you Harry. First Voldemort. Then your stupid uncle whom
you're supposed to be safe with! When does it end?"



"I don't know," he answered honestly. "But it will end," he met her eyes
with a decisive nod. "Then we can work on those ten kids with big messy hair," he winked
and flashed her an evil grin. He really did not care if anyone else heard what he said. He knew
that Ron knew about them and Ron was the only person whose reaction had mattered to him.



"You, you heard me?" Hermione blushed. Mrs. Weasley and Ginny had both sighed in the
background.



"Sometimes," he answered. "And you too, Ron, you prat." He smiled at his
other best friend. "So, you know about me and Hermione?"



Ron snorted. "Of course I did. It was the two of you who took forever to figure it
out." His words were cheerful, but both Harry and Hermione detected the bit of doubt in his
voice. They would have to work to make sure he knew they were still a Trio.



"Sorry about not telling you in person. That was the plan," he shrugged.



Ron shrugged. "It's not a surprise, Harry. Seriously." He looked embarrassed
now.



Remus grinned broadly. "Ten, huh? I can't wait to tell Severus to expect ten
Granger-Potter spawns in future classes." Everyone in the room chuckled.



"We may reconsider that number," Hermione said sheepishly. "I think I was
overtired when I said ten."



Everyone laughed even more at that. Mrs. Weasely was positively glowing at the thought of what
she would consider her grandchildren. She caught Jane Granger's eye and saw that she was
pleased with the idea too.



Molly set two bowls of stew on the table. "Harry, you need to eat something. And now that
you're up, Hermione has no excuse to starve herself. Tuck in!" she ordered. Impulsively,
she hugged Harry again. “I'm so glad you're okay.” He smiled at her, grateful for the love
she was showing him.



Harry's mouth watered as the aroma tickled his nose. He didn't realize how hungry he was
until that moment. "Thank you, Mrs. Weasley. This smells great."



After they finished their stew, and they both refused seconds, she served them both large pieces
of chocolate cake.



"This is so good," Harry told her between bites. "What's going on with the
Order? I got the feeling there was something more when you invited the Grangers to return with
us."



"I honestly do not know," Remus answered, grateful that he really did not know. Harry
would easily see through him if he were lying. "I just knew to bring you all back." He
shook his head slightly. It was typical of Harry to be worried about the Order business when he had
not even recovered from his last ordeal. It was frustrating for him to see James' son have to
grow up so fast. The boy deserved better than what life had given him.



"Snape said Vol--The Big Bad Guy was plotting something." He stopped himself from
saying Voldemort when he saw almost everyone cringe.



Hermione shrugged. "I guess we'll find out later. But it is really odd that Dumbledore
invited my parents." She looked at them and quickly added, "Not that we're not glad
that you're here. But still, it's odd."



At the mention of the man's name he appeared in the doorway. "Oh, good," he
started. "I'm glad to see the two of you eating something. Once you finish, I want you
both to go back upstairs for the night and rest. We have important things to discuss tomorrow. For
tonight, don't think about the Order. Just get some rest."






































23. PART 23 Bombshell
---------------------

Harry and Hermione joined Professor Dumbledore in his office as he had asked them to do. They
wondered why he wanted to see them and were certain it had something to do with his request that
Hermione's Muggle parents join them at Grimauld Place. Professors Snape and McGonagall were
also in the room and Dumbledore seemed to be in the middle of relaying the story of Harry's
confrontation with his uncle. Harry was surprised that Dumbledore would share that information with
anyone. He had not even told Ron and Hermione what had happened yet. They were not aware that he
had seen Vernon the day before.

Harry and Hermione both sat in armchairs that had not been there on Harry's last visit.
Hermione made sure Harry was seated before she took her own seat. She was hesitant to let go of his
arm since he insisted on walking to the office. She had taken every step with him and made him go
very slowly down the stairs. She held Harry's arm in one hand and a long, narrow box in the
other.

“We're doing this backward,” Harry smiled as he sat before she did.

“Deal with it,” she said in the bossy tone that was so very Hermione.

Professor McGonagall looked thoroughly smitten by their loving behavior, unlike Snape who wore
and expression of repulsion.

“Welcome,” Dumbledore said, smiling.”How are you feeling, Harry?”

“Okay,” he replied. He still got dizzy if he stood up too quickly, but was steady if he did not
make sudden movements. The soreness in his chest had eased greatly. His head only hurt a bit when
his latest dose of pain potion was wearing off.

Hermione placed the box on his desktop. “We got this for you in Atlantic City.”

“For me?” he asked, sincerely surprised by the gift.

“It's not much,” Harry said. The old man only looked at the gift. “Open it.”

Dumbledore unwrapped the box and took off the lid to reveal many brightly colored pieces of salt
water taffy wrapped in waxed paper.

“They sell it everyone on the boardwalk,” Hermione explained. “Harry wanted to bring you cotton
candy, but it wouldn't last and this would.”

“Thank you very much,” he smiled and he passed the box around for everyone to take a piece.

After they all had some taffy and Dumbledore explained that Severus was there due to his
position in the Order and Minerva was there as head of their house, he said, “I know you two are
wondering why I've asked to see you.” He sat behind his desk and a grave countenance came over
him. “Bad news, I'm afraid.” He paused. “Or it could be good news if you consider that the plot
has been uncovered.” He nodded at Snape.

“Voldemort,” Harry sighed.

“Yes,” Dumbledore confirmed. “He has been studying ancient magic rituals and has found one that
he believes would further his goals of achieving immortality and destroying you.”

“Do you mean to say that immortality can really be obtained since the Philosopher's Stone
has been destroyed?” Hermione asked skeptically.

“Tom seems to think so.” Dumbledore answered.

“How?” Hermione quizzed.

“He is planning to perform an ancient sacrificial ritual,” Dumbledore told them somberly.

“Sacrificial?” Harry repeated as the word sank in. Hermione was staring open-mouthed at the
headmaster. “Do I need to ask what or *who*,” he gulped, “that he plans to sacrifice?” He
could feel himself going pale as he remembered the horrible ceremony he had witnessed after the
Triwizard Tournament. It was among his most horrific memories. Wormtail's mutilation of his own
body was forever burned in his memory; then there was that dagger and his own blood. He shivered.
He had barely escaped that night alive.

“Harry, there are stipulations on the sacrifice,” Dumbledore said. From what Severus has been
able to uncover, we understand that he has to do this in seven steps. He must first sacrifice wheat
or produce from the earth, then doves, an ewe, a ram, a calf, a bull, and finally...” his voice
trailed off, but they knew what the next step was.

“That's disgusting!” Hermione cried.

“This must all be done under a full moon and prior to the human's twenty-first birthday and
there are some other rather graphic details which I will leave out. The magic evoked is strongest
if the human is an enemy and—Harry, Hermione, I do apologize for asking—but, the enemy wizard or
witch also must be a virgin for the ritual to be effective. The success is dependent upon the
purity of the offering. If his or her magic is bound to that of another, the sacrifice is futile
because it would keep the victim's power from being usurped by the killer.”

Harry was sure his face was the color of his Quiddich robes. It was bad enough that Dumbledore
was asking him and Hermione this. Did he have to do it in front of Snape and McGonagall. He glanced
at Hermione who was also very pink faced.

“Are you asking us to sleep together?” Hermione sputtered. She looked to Harry who appeared to
want to melt into his chair.

“You haven't?” he pried.

“Well, of course we haven't!” Harry answered indignantly. “We're proper wizards,
aren't we?”

“Since you were both raised by Muggles and influenced by Muggle culture, we had no way to know
if you knew of wizard customs,” McGonagall told them.

“Professor, Hermione knows more about wizard customs and life than most pure bloods,” Harry
said. “Haven't you ever read *Hogwarts: a History*?”

Hermione head snapped up at Harry's words. That was *her* line. She did not bother to
correct him. *Hogwarts: A History* did not give details of customs.

“We did not mean to offend you,” Dumbledore explained.

“Just because we were raised by Muggles doesn't mean we have Muggle values. I, for one,
value nothing taught me by the Muggles I lived with.”

“I understand that,” Dumbledore said.

“Well, good. Don't be mistaken in thinking that Hermione is anything less that a model of
virtue.”

Hermione's heart was warmed by this. Harry was defending her honor! His reaction was not
about being embarrassed. It was about her. He wanted them to know that she was everything a witch
should be, Muggle-born or not. “It takes two to be virtuous,” she said softly.

“Your *virtue* could get you killed at this stage,” Snape broke into the conversation for
the first time.

Harry and Hermione turned to one another. She was overwhelmed with the idea of loosing him. “But
if Voldemort knows we've slept together, it throws his whole plan out the window?” she
asked.

“Completely,” Snape answered. “And months of planning and research goes out with it.”

“So we sleep together,” Hermione concluded. It was simple. Harry's life was at stake. She
loved him. He loved her. They would just act like Muggle teenagers instead of wizards.

“No,” Harry responded.

“Oh, don't be stupid, Harry,” Hermione argued. “I'd rather have you alive than adhering
to ancient customs. It's not like we'd be the only ones who were not following the old
ways.”

“No,” he said again. “We are not going to jump in the sack because Snape told us to.”

“It's for your own good you arrogant little--”

“Severus!” McGonagall interrupted.

“I will not disrespect you like that, Hermione.”

“It's not disrespecting me if I *want* it!” She cried, exasperated. Harry had to know
that his life meant more to her than anything else.

“And is it what you want?” he asked. “You want to so easily put aside what you believe is
right?”

“He's going to kill you, Harry!”

“Do you think that if we just hop in the sack, he'll automatically know and give up on this
insanity? How will he find out anyway? He's not going to be spying through my mind anymore,”
Harry insisted.

Hermione was listening now rather than arguing.

“First of all, I am not going to dishonor you.” There was such sincerity in his eyes that she
saw a glimpse how much he did value her. “Secondly, we have to outsmart him.”

“So, what are you suggesting?” Hermione asked.

Harry glanced around the room. “Well, I didn't plan to ask you this for a while and
certainly not with an audience.” He got out of his seat carefully and kneeled in front of her. “I
love you. You're my best friend.” He smiled at her.

Hermione's eyes widened with shock as Harry moved to one knee in front of her. *He
couldn't be...*

“I'm nothing without you, Hermione. You're my constant, my balance, my heart. Will you
marry me?”

“Of course I will!” she exclaimed. Soon they were both on their knees on the floor, hugging.

Hermione was crying again and Harry thought he might start too. “I'm sorry,” he told
her.

“Why?” she asked, pulling away from their embrace. He had just made her the happiest person in
the world and he was apologizing?

“This craziness. My life. Making you part of my crazy life, endangering you, asking you to be a
teenage bride because some psychopath--”

She cut him off with a kiss, then said to him, “Harry, we would get married someday. We know
that. We're just moving the date up a bit. That's all.”

“Brilliant, thinking, Harry,” Dumbledore interrupted, bringing the two back to the reality that
there were other people in the room.

“What?” he asked, as he took his seat again with Hermione's help.

“If you are married, there will be no doubt in Voldemort's mind that his plans have been
thwarted. He'll still want to kill you, of course, but he will know that it will not gain him
immortality. I was just thinking,” he said, one long finger touching his chin pensively. “If he got
word that you were getting married, he might try to stop the wedding.”

“And we could trap him,” Harry completed the sentence.

“If you were, of course, already secretly married, then even if he could stop the wedding, the
ritual would still be ineffective.”

“You knew,” Harry said accusingly.

“Knew what?” Dumbledore asked.

“You knew that Hermione and I would decide to get married to ward against this threat.
That's why you asked her parents to come, so they could give permission.” He turned to her
suddenly realizing that they would have to get permission. “Do you think they will?”

“I know they'll be shocked, but once we explain things...”

“They'll be thrilled that their son-in-law is in consistent mortal danger, thus their
daughter is as well.” Harry sighed. “What about the Dursleys? They wouldn't give me permission
to go to Hogsmeade. They'll never give me permission to get married. And Sirius isn't
here,” he added sadly.

“The Dursleys are a non-issue,” Dumbledore replied. “I have spoken with the Grangers about their
opinions of Hermione's relationship with you, and I feel sure they can be persuaded to give
permission.”

“So,” Hermione recapped, “You want us to get secretly married, then plan a wedding as a trap for
Voldemort?”

“But that would put others in danger,” Harry said. “I mean, if we plan a wedding, people will
expect to be invited, and...”

“We'll be thoroughly prepared.”

“What about Professor Snape?” Harry asked.

“What about me?” Severus piped up.

“Won't Voldemort know that he leaked the plan? Won't planning a wedding put him in
danger?”

Snape was taken aback that Harry actually considered his safety. “He has no idea I know of his
plans. I haven't found out from him. That bumbling Pettigrew has been spouting off to various
Death Eaters and did not know I overheard him. What I did not overhear, I found out with my other
talents.” He knew that Harry knew exactly what talents he meant.

Harry nodded. “So, where do we go from here?” He could not help but be irritated that the joy of
his and Hermione's engagement had to be so quickly set aside to focus on something else.

“First, we have to take care of some legal matters including Sirius's will and your
guardianship, Harry.” Dumbledore pulled the paper that Vernon had signed out of a compartment in
his desk.

Harry read it aloud:

*I hereby relinquish all rights of guardianship of Harry James Potter, along with the
responsibilities, compensation, and protections included. Vernon Durlsey.*

“Compensation?” Harry asked.

“Yes, Harry. Did you not know that the Dursleys were paid from a trust set up for your care?”
Dumbledore asked. “There was money for your needs as well as an allowance for you.”

Harry was silent. Of course he did not know. He was under the impression that he was a financial
burden. He did remember that he was given some money when he was little, but it had been very
little and they had stopped giving him pocket money years ago.

“I can't say I'm surprised that you were unaware of that.”

“Did they also know they were being protected for taking care of me?”

“Of course they did,” Dumbledore answered. “And I do believe your uncle was quite unhappy to
realize that he would be given no protection after he signed that. I also informed him that he
would probably see a drastic change in matters of livelihood. He left under the impression that he
would now be cursed.”

“You cursed him?” Minerva asked, shocked. That was not something Albus Dumbledore would do.

“No. But he thinks so. I believe that's all that matters.”

Hermione grinned. “By thinking he's cursed, he'll inevitably make decisions that destroy
himself,” she said. “He's so afraid of magic that he'll wind up hurting himself.”

“That is possible,” Dumbledore answered, lightly. “What is important here is that we need to
establish new guardianship for Harry. Sirius himself had some suggestions.”

“Can't I just be independent since I'm already sixteen?” Harry asked. “Don't get me
wrong, I would love to be part of a family that was not the Dursleys, but if anyone takes on that
responsibility, then they will be in danger from Voldemort.”

“No, I'm afraid that is not a possibility. You are not of legal age so you can not legally
make decisions of such magnitude as marriage. The only way for you to marry Hermione with a legal
bond is for a guardian to give permission.”

Harry sighed. He was not sure anyone would happily volunteer to be his guardian, not as long as
Voldemort was after him. It would be dangerous, stupid even.

“We should bring in the Grangers. Severus, will you ask them to join us. You and Minerva are
dismissed for now. Minerva, would you retrieve that item from my office at Hogwarts. Please wait
for us in the kitchen.”

The two professors left.

“Your parents are coming!” Harry exclaimed. “What do we tell them? Do you think they'll be
okay with this? What if your dad hates me when he finds out the truth about Voldemort?”

“Harry, calm down,” Hermione told him. “We can do this. You've faced Voldemort 4 times and
lived to tell. I think you can handle a conversation with my parents!” she laughed.

“I never had to ask Voldemort if I could marry his underage daughter because I really need to
have sex.” Harry snorted.

“Harry, they like you. My dad probably thought we were sleeping together anyway before you told
him about our customs,” she patted his hand.

“Yeah, and that was when he started to like me!”

She sighed. “No it wasn't.”

“But you have to admit it made him like me a whole lot more.”

Hermione and Dumbledore both laughed.

“Harry, I assure you, the Grangers think you are perfect for their daughter. I spoke with them a
great deal when you were recovering. I told them of your history with Voldemort. They know that he
is plotting to kill you again, though they do not know the details, and they said they would do
anything to help keep you safe.”

“But you didn't tell them what *anything* was, did you?” Harry asked.

As if on cue, the Grangers entered the office. “Mr. Snape said you wanted to see us,” John said.
He and his wife took the chairs that had been left by the professors.

“Yes,” Dumbledore started. “I'm sure you recall what I have told you about Voldemort and
Harry.”

They nodded. It was the first time they had had a chance to talk to Harry since they found out
the truth. “Harry, I can't believe you've been through so much,” Jane said. “You are such a
brave and heroic boy.”

“Hermione has enabled me to do what I needed to do,” he told them.

“Yes, we understand that you're quite the little rule breaker,” John laughed, turning to his
daughter.

“I had to do what I had to do!” she replied.

“I'm proud of you, honey,” John told her. He knew instantly that she felt she had to defend
herself.

“Harry, Hermione, Ron, and, to a lesser extent, some of their friends have done more for the
preservation of good in our society than anyone could have expected or imagined,” Dumbledore told
them. “They've been thrust into situations that most full grown wizards would have been unable
to handle. They, especially Harry and Hermione, are skilled beyond their years.”

“We wouldn't expect any less from our girl,” Jane smiled, exercising her right as a mother
to be proud.

“I have told them about Voldemort's latest plot and it is time you two learned what it was
as well since thrwarting it rests in your hands.”

“Us?” John asked, stunned. “How can we be of any help?”

Dumbledore then explained the ritual, leaving out the more graphic parts just as he had with the
teenagers.

Jane was very pale when he finished. “That's insane!” she shrieked, holding her hand over
her mouth as if she thought she might be sick.

“I can't believe anyone could even think of doing such a thing,” John shuddered.
“Disgusting,” he shook his head, pondering what had been told to him. “But what can we do to help?
We have no magical abilities.”

Dumbledore then explained the stipulations of the ritual's success.

“Oh,” John said softly as he thought over what he had just been told. He turned to the
teenagers. “How do you both feel about this?”

“Sir,” Harry began, summoning his courage. “I can't imagine my life without Hermione. Though
I never thought we would be considering this so soon, I asked her to marry me.”

“Dad, Harry and I would get married someday anyway. It's just that we need to speed things
up for his safety. You understand, don't you?” she plead. “Please say it's okay.”

“I understand if you don't want to give permission,” Harry told them. “You have to realize
that being my wife will put Hermione in danger.”

“Wife or not, I'm in danger, Harry. Every decent witch and wizard is in danger as long as
Voldemort has his power. He wants to kill anyone who does not agree with him. And I'm
Muggle-born, so he wants me dead anyway, regardless of my relationship with you. Harry, even my
parents are in danger as long as he has power. Mom, Dad, did you know that he and his Death Eaters
kill Muggles just for the fun of it? This monster has to be stopped! And Harry's the only one
who can do it!”

“What do you mean?” Jane asked. “Why do you say Harry is the only one who can do it?”

“There was a prophecy made prior to Harry's birth,” Dumbledore interjected and he recited it
for them. “He marked Harry as his equal.”

The Grangers were quiet while thinking over everything they had been told in the past
twenty-four hours. “That's so much responsibility,” Jane sighed. It was astonishing that the
sixteen year old boy in front of her, her daughter's boyfriend, was the “equal” of the most
powerful evil wizard who had ever lived.

“We four are the only ones who know the full prophecy,” Dumbledore told them. “You have to keep
that information to yourselves. The less Voldemort knows, the better.”

“I understand,” John told them. It was a stretch, really. This was difficult to understand. A
few years ago witches and wizards were simply the basis of stories told to him by his
great-grandmother. He did not believe they were real until his own daughter was revealed to be a
witch.

“Mom, Dad, you have to give me permission to marry Harry. All our lives are at stake here,”
Hermione told them desperately.

“I'm not thrilled with the idea of you marrying at 15,” John told her.

“I'll be sixteen in September,” Hermione reminded them.

“I'm not thrilled with the idea of you being married at 16 either,” he said dryly.

“But Dad!” she was cut off as he held up her hand to quiet her.

“I do realize that you're not an ordinary young girl, and Harry is certainly no ordinary
young man.” He was still astounded by the things Harry had been through and lived to tell about. He
also valued that Harry had told them that he understood if they did not want their daughter to
marry him.

“There's much more to marriage than just sleeping together,” Jane told them. “I know you
think that you'll be together forever, but what if things change in a few years?”

“We've already been through more than most people could imagine,” Hermione said.

“We don't have that option,” Harry told her. “Change, I mean. Once we're married,
that's it. It's for life.”

“Are you really ready to make that commitment?” Jane asked.

“Yes.” Harry answered without trepidation. “I realized a while back how much I loved Hermione.
There will never be anyone else for me.”

“Mom, we were meant to be. It's like fate put us together for a reason. We bring out the
best in each other. He's my best friend and I love him more than I could ever tell you.”

“I don't doubt your love for one another,” Jane said. “But what about school? What about
your future?”

“They will, of course, be allowed to continue their schooling. I've arranged with Minerva
McGonagall, their head of house, for a private room to be provided for them. This is not something
they would do casually and the marriage of students is not something we would so easily allow at
Hogwarts. This truly is a matter of life and death in the battle between good and evil,” Dumbledore
explained. The arrangement of a room for them confirmed to Harry that Dumbledore had known this
news would lead to their marriage. “They will be allowed to finish their schoolwork and stay in
Gryffindor with other students. But they will be afforded the privacy due newlyweds. It is
unconventional, but it is for the best.”

“We really don't have a choice in this, do we?” John asked.

“Yes, you do,” Harry answered, though it seemed he was the only one that thought they had a
choice. “Hermione and I love each other and we're willing to make this kind of commitment and
do it now. But you are her parents and we will respect your decision.”

“Mom, Dad, if we're married, then Voldemort will know that these plans are useless.
Otherwise, he will continue to plot and eventually he will try to kidnap Harry and brutally murder
him. You have no idea how powerful this man is. He has covert followers who are more than willing
to help him take Harry. Please, please, don't give him reason to attempt this insanity.
Don't let Harry die!” she plead.

“How will he find out that you're married?” John asked.

Hermione looked to Dumbledore. “I'm not sure. Will our spy relay that information?” she
asked, careful to not reveal who the spy was.

“We'll work out those details later,” he answered.

“Let me talk to your mother privately,” John said. He stood up and took his wife's hand to
lead her from the room. “We'll be back momentarily.”

Hermione exhaled tensely. “They have to say it's all right. They have to,” she fretted.

“They just want what's best for you,” Harry said. He wished Hermione could see how lucky she
was to have parents who cared about her best interests. He was not convinced that marriage to him
was truly what was best for her, despite how much he loved her.

“What's best for me is keeping you alive and safe,” she told him.

“Still, it's a lot for them to take in at once,” said Dumbledore. “Give them time to digest
it.”

A strained silence fell over the three of them as they waited for the Granger's return.
After what seemed an eternity, but was really just a few minutes, they came back into the room.

They did not sit down. “Hermione, Harry,“ John started, “We've decided to grant our
permission.”

Hermione jumped up to hug her father. “Thank you, Daddy! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she
squealed as tears of joy came to her eyes.

Harry eased himself to a standing position, “Thank you,” he told them. “I'll do everything
in my power to protect your daughter. I love her with all my being.” He shook John's hand and
was pulled into a hug with Hermione and both her parents.

“I'm sure you will,” John responded, exchanging a concerned and accepting look with his
wife. They both knew now that when Harry Potter said he would do *everything in his power*,
that was more than a casual expression. His power was a force to be reckoned with.

“Wonderful!” Dumbledore exclaimed, clapping his hands together. “It seems we have a lot to take
care of, not the least of which is a wedding to plan.”




*A/N: Thanks again for the reviews. Knowing people enjoy this inspires me to keep going!
I've done research to give a loose historical base to the sacrificial ideas. I purposely left
this chapter less detailed than what JKR wrote in Goblet of Fire so that I can keep the rating
PG-13. You'll just have to use your imagination for the details Dumbledore is leaving out.
Believe me, you probably don't want to know anyway. The point is now Harry and Hermione have to
get married and The Big Bad Guy is not going to be happy about it.*







































































































































24. PART 25 What About Ron? Again (mistakes corrected)
------------------------------------------------------

AN: Thanks again for the support and comments. I really appreciate the feedback.



ANDTORR: I'm thinking of writing a much darker version of this to post elsewhere. It would
be NC-17. I'm going to finish the younger-folks friendly version first though. But there are
some things I would have done differently if I were posting this on a different site.

Coolone007: I think you'll be pleased. They're not just going to hop in the sack without
weighing the psychological implications of their very rushed relationship.

Quis of Camelot: Someone else has pointed out Mum/Mom to me, which is why Ron says Mum. But I
didn't think it worthwhile enough of an issue to go back and change every time Hermione
addressed her mother. I'm sorry about the cheesy trip to the USA, but you have to write what
you know. I can write about Atlantic City and Vermont. I can't write a believable vacation in
Europe

Athena Hermione Riddle: I can't believe you stayed up for 5 hours to read this. That is so
cool. Hee hee.




Well, here's the obligatory breaking-the-news-to-Ron chapter. It delays where I'm trying
to get to, but I did not want to just push it aside with a “Ron's just fine with this”
either.




"We really need to talk to Ron," Harry said to Hermione. "He's already
feeling a little left out because we're dating." Harry considered it. They had barely even
had real dates. He wanted to take her out for dinner and go to a movie the way Muggle kids did.
They had completely fast forwarded through courtship.



"I'll send him in to see you. You can talk here while I call a meeting to discuss
everything with those who need to know." Dumbledore exited with Hermione's parents who
looked back at both of them with love and concern.



"Do you think he'll be okay with it?" Hermione asked.



Harry shrugged. "I'm not sure we're okay with it," he answered truthfully.
"Don't get me wrong, you know I love you, but this is moving so fast. We became a couple
about 3 weeks ago. Now we're engaged and we'll be married in a few days if I understand
Dumbledore correctly."



"Yeah," she agreed. "I know what you mean. I thought we'd have a few years
before we got married."



"Are you regretting it?" he asked tentatively. "You can change your
mind--"



"No," she took his hand. "I'm a little scared, but I know it's
right."



Harry nodded. "Me too. I'm scared of what we're getting into and how fast we're
doing it, but I know that we would spend the rest of our lives together no matter what."



Ron knocked on the door as he opened it, "Hiya. Dumbledore said you wanted to talk to
me." He could tell from the expressions on their face that things were serious.
"What's going on?"



"Oh, Ron," Hermione said. "You're not going to believe this!" She turned
to Harry, asking him to be the one to break the news to Ron.



"Are you really okay with Hermione and me being a couple?" Harry asked. First things
first, they had to let Ron know that he was still their best friend.



"Yes," Ron told them decisively. "I knew you two would get together eventually. I
can not imagine either of you with anyone else." He looked down, "No one could compete
with what you have with each other."



"You don't see it that, way, do you? As a competition?" Harry asked him. "I
mean, I don't want us to fight over Hermione."



"But you would fight me for her if you had to," Ron grinned. That was one battle he
did not want to face.



Harry returned the grin, "Yeah. And I would win," he added playfully.



"Excuse me. I *am* in the room," Hermione huffed. "I can't believe the
two of you!" She was astounded that the two boys she'd been best friends with since they
were all eleven were talking about fighting over her. Her! "You're talking about me like I
was a, a," she stammered, "a bloody door prize."



"Well, I would fight anyone I had to for you, Hermione." Harry gave her emerald green
puppy dog eyes and she melted. It was sweet that someone wanted her that much. "You're
forgetting that in order to have to fight someone over me, I'd have to be interested in the
other person, and I'm not interested in anyone that way but you." She quickly looked to
Ron, "No offense, Ron. I'm sure if I was going to be interested in someone other than
Harry, it would be you," she said apologetically.



"What girl would want me when they could have the rich and famous Harry Potter?" Ron
shrugged, not realizing how badly he had just hurt Harry's feelings or how badly he had just
insulted Hermione.



"Why do you think I fell for Hermione?" Harry asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
"She doesn't see me as *the rich and famous Harry Potter,* unlike my other supposed
to be best friend. My god, Ron, do you want the money and the fame? You do realize I have money
because my parents are *dead* and I inherited it? You do remember the reason I'm famous is
that Voldemort killed them and has been trying to kill me ever since? You can have my bloody scar
and my Gringotts vault, but keep in mind they come with Voldemort and the Dursleys." He had
not felt this angry in weeks.



Hermione chimed in now, thoroughly riled at how much Ron had hurt Harry. "You're such a
jealous prat, Ron! Harry would give anything to have a mom *or* a dad or just a godfather. You
complain that you get hand me downs, but forget that there's someone there to hand things down
to you. You don't appreciate that you've always had people who loved you and took care of
you!” she scolded. “And do you really think that I fell for Harry because of his name or his bank
account? Maybe you never caught on, Ron, but my family is not poor by any means. I fell for Harry
because I had the chance to know him, more than anyone else ever has. That's why I love him. I
know who Harry is, how brave and generous and loyal and noble he is, and I could care less about
the legend of Harry Potter. The real thing is even more spectacular!" Hermione's eyes were
shining with love and pride as she talked about Harry. It hurt her that he was looking away from
them and hurt so deeply by what Ron had said.



Stunned, Ron stood with his mouth gaping open while his best friends waylayed him. When Hermione
finished, he stammered, "It was a joke."



"Well, it wasn't a very good one," Hermione snapped. Harry would not look at
either one of them. He stared at the corner where the ceiling met the wall behind Dumbledore's
desk instead. He had thought, he had hoped, that Ron's jealousy had diminished some in the past
couple of years.



"I'm sorry," Ron said, seriously. "I don't know what to say. I was just
trying to make a joke to lighten things up. I didn't expect both of you to go off on me like
that." He leaned against the desk, looking almost defeated.



Both Harry and Hermione were quiet and Harry refused to face him. Ron knew that Harry was doing
so because he was hurt, which had not been his intention.



"Harry, I know Hermione loves you because of you. I did not mean to suggest that she
didn't. It's one reason I know she's perfect for you. There isn't another girl
alive who will see through Harry Potter to find just Harry. I'm ashamed to admit that sometimes
I don't see through Harry Potter to find just Harry either." He felt a little better when
Harry faced him again. "I wouldn't trade my family for all the money in the world and
Hermione is right. I was being a stupid, jealous prat. Besides, I know you would share everything
with my family if we would let you. I know you financed Fred and George and that you made them buy
me decent robes. I'm sorry I'm so stupid sometimes." It hit him hard just how stupid
he was being when Harry faced him again. There he was, without parents, without a godfather, and
recovering from the abuse inflicted upon him by the people who were supposed to take care of him.
Yes, Harry was rich and he was famous, but he was also under constant threat, whether at home or
school.



"It's okay," Harry said softly. "We both have our moments of complete
stupidity."



Hermione softened toward him as well, "You know, there was a reason we wanted to talk to
you."



"Oh," Ron started, "Yeah, I suppose there was. So, what's up?"



"I'm not sure we want to go through this again, but are you *really* okay with us
as a couple?" Harry asked, skeptically.



"Yes. You have my blessing." Ron answered, leaving no room for interpretation.



"We don't want you to feel left out," Hermione told him.



"I won't. Besides, maybe we can do some double-dating this year."



"Really?" Harry brightened considerably. "Who do you like? Luna? I'm sure she
likes you."



Ron sputtered, his face turning as red as his hair. "I didn't say I liked anyone. I
just said maybe."



"Well, good. I'm glad you like Luna. You can invite her to the wedding," Harry
told him.



"Okay, I will." Ron answered. His face suddenly looked like a blank slate. "What
wedding?"



"We have to get married," Harry told him, deciding to not waste time with a
buildup.



Ron's eyes bulged. "You... you two? *Have* to get married?" His jaw dropped.
"Are you pregnant?"



"No!" They both answered in union, very forcefully.



"I wish it were that simple," Harry said wistfully. "No, Ron, I either have to
loose my virginity or Voldemort is going to offer me as a bloody sacrifice in his search for
immortality."



"Have sex or die?" Ron almost snickered. It would have been funny if it wasn't a
real threat.



"Pretty much," Harry shrugged. "I guess it's more 'have sex and ruin the
premise of his ritual, therefore even if you do get murdered, he won't be
immortal.'"



"So why are you getting married instead of just having a go?"



Hermione rolled her eyes, "Honestly, you're a pureblood and you have to ask?"



"Come on, Hermione, there are almost as many who've given up on that as there are who
still believe in it."



"Ron, it boils down to this, if Voldemort knows I'm married, then he'll know
I've 'had a go' as you put it and months of planning and research have gone down the
drain."



"What a moron!" Ron exclaimed. A half an hour prior, he never would have believed he
would call Voldemort a moron. But, really, what great mind rests his plans on the virginity of a 16
year old boy?



"Are you okay with this? With us being married?" Harry asked. "We don't want
you to feel left out. We're still a Trio. But things are going to change more than we imagined.
Hermione and I will be living together at Hogwarts."



"I'm fine. I think my feelings are the last of your worries," Ron shrugged it off.
"You've got a maniac out to kill you. I'm glad you have someone to marry. Of course,
if Hermione wasn't head over heels in love with you, I bet Ginny would still be willing,"
he laughed at the expense of his little sister.



"Then you should know," Hermione began, ignoring his comment about Ginny and thinking
that Ron was too stupid to realize how mean it was to say that about his sister, "There are
going to be two weddings. We're going to get secretly married, then we're going to plan a
wedding and let it slip to Voldemort that it's happening."



"Why?"



"It's a trap," Harry explained. "Dumbledore is sure he'll try to stop the
wedding and we'll be waiting for him." He looked to Hermione, "But we'll already
be married just in case he does manage to take me."



"This sucks," Ron said bluntly. He saw the glum expressions on his friends' faces.
It was not fair that they were planning their wedding as a trap for an evil wizard. It should have
been a time of real celebration. "Congratulations, though," he said shyly, unsure that it
was appropriate.



Harry and Hermione looked to Ron and then to each other and burst with laughter. "This is
insane," Harry said, running his fingers through his messy hair. "Well, come on Best Man
and The Future Mrs. Potter. Let's go see what other bombshells Dumbledore plans to drop
today.”
























25. PART 25 Legalities and Schemes
----------------------------------

*AN: I don't think it would be fair to start off with a PG13 and then up the rating so
that younger people couldn't read it. I'll have to check with a moderator about some of the
themes I would use.*

*Ben, I am so jealous! I would have loved to have seen Queen live.*






Harry and Hermione surveyed the expectant faces of the Molly, Arthur, and Ginny Weasley, Remus
Lupin, and Hagrid. All were gathered around a very large round table at Grimmauld Place along with
Ron, Dumbledore, the Grangers, and Professor McGonagall who all already knew why this meeting had
been called.



"Well, what is it?" Ginny asked impatiently, noticing the glances exchanged between
the Trio. She had come to join Ron, Hermione, and Harry for some fun before school began again.
Since Harry and Hermione had not objected to her presence, she was allowed to stay for the
meeting.



"Several issues have been brought to my attention," Dumbledore began. "There is a
new plot to take Harry's life while strengthening Voldemort." Between Harry and
Dumbledore, you would think that this group was used to hearing that word, but most of them still
balked as if someone had said a filthy curse word.



Ron shook his head. Fame and glory be damned. He really would not want to be Harry. The threat
of Voldemort aside, he ached for Harry and Hermione, knowing that their sex lives were about to
come up in conversation. He would want to crawl into a deep dark hole if he were the subject of
this meeting.



"What do we do to help?" Hagrid asked immediately.



"First, we need to attend to the matter of Sirius Black's will and the guardianship of
Harry."



"What about the Dursleys?" Remus asked, wondering about their guardianship and if
Vernon had been punished for what he had done.



"They no longer have custody of Harry," Dumbledore answered. No one was surprised by
this news. "They have agreed to relinquish custody to a witch or wizard."



*And were thrilled to do so*, Harry thought to himself. He was too numb to their treatment
to be hurt by it anymore.



"So, he needs a custodial agent," Remus reasoned.



Dumbledore nodded. "In his last will and testament, Sirius Black has suggested that Remus
Lupin, Molly and Arthur Weasley, or myself take the position. However, he wanted the position
filled prior to the reading of the will."



"Molly and I will be glad to do it," Arthur Weasley volunteered immediately.



Harry beamed. He couldn't imagine a better family to call his own. "You want me?"
he asked in disbelief.



"Well, of course we do, dear," Molly spoke up. "You're practically family
anyway, both you and Hermione," she smiled at both of them and they both grinned back.
"We'll just make it legal then," she waved it off as if it were nothing when, in
reality, it was one of the most joyous moments in Harry's life. Someone wanted him. They
actually *wanted* him. "If that's fine with everyone else," she added. She
realized that Lupin and Dumbledore might want the job.



"I would love to be Harry's guardian," Remus began. "However, with my
condition, I can't always be there for him. I know he's skilled enough to handle himself
without me, without any of us, but I would rather see him with two loving parents than one
unreliable werewolf." He faked a smile. He wished to take care of Harry for James and for
Sirius.



"You'd be a great guardian," Harry said, feeling the need to make him feel better.
"You've always been great with me and taught me so much." Lupin's instruction had
saved Harry's life.



"Not as good as the Weasleys," Remus admitted, nodding at the couple. "They know
what they're doing and they can be reliable."



"What about you?" Arthur asked pointedly to Dumbledore.



"I'll always be looking out for Harry," he answered. "At the same time, I
know how much he loves your entire family. Molly is the only mother he's ever known and I could
not rob him of that, nor could I rob her," he smiled with his eyes twinkling brightly.



Molly was grinning with tears of joy in her eyes. She did love Harry dearly.



"But, it will put you in danger," Harry told them. "Voldemort will target
you."



"He will always target us, Harry," Arthur said. "We don't follow him. If
you're not with him, you're against him. And, Harry, even if being your guardians would put
us in more danger, we would still do it. You are part of our family."



"That's cool, Harry," Ron smiled. "Now we'll be brothers, but there's
only one problem." An unexpected serious tone was in his voice. They all looked to him.
"You'll have to dye your hair red, otherwise, we can't let you in." He cracked a
smile and almost everyone laughed.



A few seats down Ginny Weasley's heart was in a tug of war. She loved the idea of Harry
joining her family. However, she had always secretly hoped it would be as a son-in-law. She knew
that realistically she didn't have a shot to distract Harry's affections from Hermione
though. It was obvious how devoted they were to one another, much to the dismay of her and her
brother.



Dumbledore brought out a wizard's contract, seemingly from thin air. It stated that Harry
Potter would now be under the guardianship of Arthur and Molly Weasley. The Weasley's signed
it, as did Harry. Dumbledore signed it as an executor and Lupin, Hagrid, and McGonagall were
witnesses.



"I'm a Weasley!" Harry said proudly. "I'm part of the best family in the
whole world!"



"You always have been, dear," Molly told him as she ruffled his hair.



He was so happy he could shout, but he held back as he embraced his new family. He was taken
into a great bit Weasley group hug. He pulled in Hermione. "I never have to go back to Privet
Drive!" he bubbled.



"Never again," Hermione repeated, squeezing his hand.



"Lovely, lovely," Dumbledore muttered as they all resumed their seats. "I should
read the entirety of the will." He picked up another piece of parchment and began: *I,
Sirius Black, being of sound mind and body do hereby state the following as my last will and
testament. As executor in charge of the Black estate, with full ownership of the properties and
funds therein, I bequeath the following:*



*The my cousins Bellatrix Lestrange and Narcissa Malfoy, the only remaining Black relatives:
one knut each. And that's more than you deserve, you arrogant evil bitches. However, as you
know, you will be in no position to contest this as you have been left your worthy part of the
inheritance.*



Dumbledore cleared his throat after reading the will as it was written.



*To Remus Lupin, the sum of 15,000 galleons and a welcome spot in Grimmauld Place. You were
truly my best friend. Please watch after yourself and Harry.*



*To Mr. Ronald Weasley,*



Ron looked up shocked that he was mentioned. Dumbledore continued, *I leave the sum of 10,000
galleons. Thank you for your part in saving my life. Buy yourself a new rat, but be sure to count
his toes.*



*To Ms. Hermione Granger, I leave the sum of 10,000 galleons. You are a brilliant, fair, and
amazing young lady. Thank you for saving my life. Treat Harry well. He will continue to need your
support and help in accomplishing his task.*



*My godson Harry Potter will need a guardian in our world. I ask that Molly and Arthur
Weasley, Remus Lupin, or Albus Dumbledore fill this position. I know each of you have Harry's
best interest at heart. To whomever takes this gift, I also bequeath the sum of 25,000 galleons to
be used as you see fit.*



*Now, my godson, Harry Potter. To Harry, I leave all Black family properties and the contents
of both my personal and all Black family held vaults at Gringotts. An extensive list will be
attached. I also leave Buckbeak to you, though I imagine Rubeus Hagrid would be happy to help care
for him.*



Hagrid smiled brightly. He did not know prior to this that Buckbeak had been with Sirius
Black.



*Harry, I am quite sure that I have not survived the most recent rise of Voldemort. In the
short time I've known you, I've come to know a brilliant, powerful, fair, noble young man
of great character. You have the strengths of both of your parents and your own magnificent
abilities and insights. I want you to go on with this fight and do everything you can to remove
that menace from our society. I believe in you, Harry. Any loss is worthwhile so long as you
continue to the point it seems you were destined to find yourself. You will defeat Voldemort and I
will be watching out for you from another world. I love you, my son. Sirius Black*



Harry felt tears welling in his eyes. This was torture and it was bringing the loss of Sirius
back in full force. He sniffed and looked upward, trying to keep the tears unshed. He felt
Hermione's hand on his back, comforting and strengthening him. He bit his lip and blinked
rapidly. *I will not cry. I will not cry. I will not cry.* In seconds, Molly had come to him
and wrapped her arms around him. "It's okay," she soothed. It was the second time she
had held him while he cried. It was the second time he had really felt as if he had a mother. *



Harry felt like screaming or running or hitting something, maybe all three. "It was my
fault," he choked, trying desperately to not cry with an audience. He needed to be alone or
with just Hermione. This was too much to take right now. Molly hugged him more closely and then
Harry felt himself being pulled to his feet. Then Molly and Hermione were walking with him, taking
him out of the room.



"It's not your fault," Molly told him as she led Harry to sit on a sofa in a
living room. Hermione sat with him, holding onto his hand. "The only reason Sirius is dead
is... is..." her voice turned to a whisper, "Voldemort," she said very softly, as if
saying it softly was somehow not as bad as saying it in a normal voice. "He's the reason
Sirius, Cedric, your parents, and so many others have died. "You know that in your heart,
Harry. You know it's not your fault," she pulled him to her again and held him for what
seemed like a very long time. Hermione stroked his back, softly telling him that it was okay.



"It just hurts," he told them. "Everyone I love dies. I don't want anything
to happen to you too," he looked up at Molly and to Hermione. "I want the people I love
to be safe."



"I wish I could promise you that nothing will happen to us," Molly said. "But
none of us can predict that. We can hope for the best, but every decent witch and wizard is under a
threat from that man. We'll just do what we can to stay safe and to keep you safe
too."



"I'll protect you both," Harry promised them. "I'll do whatever I can to
protect you."



"So will we," Hermione said. "I would do anything for you, Harry."



They waited a few minutes more before going back to the kitchen. They all needed a little bit of
time to compose themselves to face the others.



"Sorry," Harry said, apologizing as he walked back into the room and sat down. "I
just needed a minute to myself,"



"Perfectly understandable," Arthur said, waving it off.



Dumbledore had folded the parchment he had earlier and placed it onto the table. He glanced
around the table before starting to speak again. "Now, Molly, Arthur, you're first order
of business as Harry's guardians..." he paused, glancing back at the teenage couple for a
moment.



Mr. and Mrs. Weasley straightened in their seats, ready to face any fight for Harry.
"Anything he needs. Anything at all," he offered.



"He needs your permission." His abbreviated sentence was a tease.



"Something dangerous?" Molly asked, her expression falling. Her motherly instinct
wasn't so eager to oblige now.



"Some would certainly say so," Dumbledore laughed mischievously. Both Harry and
Hermione gulped in anticipation of what was about to be announced.



"He need your permission to get married."



A stunned silence fell over the ones who were not aware of the impending nuptials.



Molly was the first to find her voice. "Married?" she quizzed. "He's just
sixteen years old."



"Yes, Molly," Albus replied. "That is exactly why he needs your permission. I
assure you this is necessary." The ones who were not aware of the reasons listened intently as
Dumbledore once again explained Voldemort's plan. Harry and Hermione both wanted to disappear
when he got to the "virgin" part. He did soften the embarrassment by telling them that
Voldemort, no doubt, knew that Harry and Hermione both had strong character, so it was to expected
that they were waiting for marriage as was expected of decent members of their society.



"He's getting desperate," Lupin evaluated. "He's got to know that many of
those old dark rituals accomplished nothing."



"But one did work for him," Harry reminded them. He shuddered at the thought of the
ritual he had witnessed. "It gave him back his body and broke the protection my mother gave
me."



"He's been desperate to fight mortality his entire life," Dumbledore said.



"We've already given Hermione permission," John Granger spoke up. "Believe
me, we're not thrilled about our daughter getting married so young, but Harry's life is at
stake here."



Dumbledore explained that they would be having two weddings and the second would be a trap for
Voldemort and his followers. "Now, we just need to work out the best way to see to it that he
finds out what is happening."



"I think Hermione can handle Rita Skeeter," Harry offered. "We could get her to
print some gossip."



"I don't know that we should risk letting her know what is really going on,"
Dumbledore reasoned. "She can't be trusted, not really."



"I know!" said Ginny, surprising everyone that she would speak up in this situation.
All eyes turned to her. She swallowed nervously. "We trick her. We get her to think that
she's scooping us, when in reality, she'll only print what we want her to," she
started.



"How do we go about that, Ms. Weasley?" McGonagall asked.



"Easy!" Ginny exclaimed. "I'll write to her and tell her what's going on
from the standpoint of a broken-hearted teenage girl."



"I think you're onto something, Gin," Hermione started. "But I've got an
even better idea. You write to her as the jilted girl and tell her to look for you and me in Diagon
Alley. Tell her you know her secret and you know she can be indiscreet. Then we'll have a very
telling conversation which she will overhear and then scurry back into her hole in the ground to
write."



"What secret?" Ginny asked.



Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged knowing looks. "She's an unregistered
animagus," Hermione revealed, shocking some of the people in the room.



"A what?" McGonagall asked incredulously. "She wasn't even very good in
transfiguration!"



"Well, she worked on it, I assure you," Hermione said. "We knew. That's how
we got her to write that story about Harry last year."



"That, and you threatened her with the jar," Ron laughed. Hermione told him to shut up
with a glance.



"That is a brilliant plan, Ms. Granger," Dumbledore said approvingly, removing the
conversation for Rita Skeeter's animagus abilities or the Trio's use of blackmail.
"So, we just need to decide exactly what you will reveal to Ms. Skeeter. She will think
she's got the scoop of a lifetime. By the time her report is printed, you and Mr. Potter will
be married. Then we set the trap," he smiled.



He turned to Harry, "I am afraid that what happened with your uncle will have to be
revealed to Ms. Skeeter."



"Are you insane?" Harry gasp. Only he could get away with addressing Dumbledore in
such a matter. "I don't want anyone to know that."



"I understand, Harry, but there has to be a reason that we would allow you and Ms. Granger
to be married. The only viable option is emancipation from your abusive relatives. That you two are
in love is not going to be reason enough to convince the board of governors that your marriage
should be accommodated by the school. They can not stop you from being married, but they can stop
you from attending Hogwarts."



Harry closed his eyes, looking away. He shook his head, "I don't want anyone to
know," he resisted. "You said you had already arranged a room with Professor
McGonagall."



"Minerva and I can only do so much before the board gets involved. There will be a
bonus," Dumbledore said as brightly as he could muster, "I'm sure there will be many
a witch and wizard who seek to punish your family on your behalf. And, of course, there's
nothing that you or I could do to stop them."



"No kidding," Hermione added, thinking back to when Harry's adoring public thought
she had hurt him. She hoped that Vernon would get a packet of bubotuber pus of his own.



"I don't care about seeing them punished. I just want them out of my life for
good."



"Yes, Harry. You want the Dursleys and Voldemort out of your life. This is our golden
opportunity to get rid of both with one blow."



He sighed, shaking his head with defeat. "I really don't have a choice, here, do
I?" Dumbledore's silence gave him his answer. "Whatever. Let's just get this
thing going. The sooner this is over, the better. Maybe then Hermione and I can actually enjoy
being married."







*I interpret the part with Molly holding Harry in the hospital wing in Goblet of Fire as Harry
crying with the stinging in his eyes, burning in his throat, and wishing Ron would look away.



**I won't be updating for a few days. I have to go on a business trip. So, leave lots of
reviews and I'll update when I get back! :-)






26. PART 26 Ginny
-----------------

*Dear Ms. Skeeter,*

*I am writing to you because I have information that you will find most interesting. You will
not believe what they're doing! Harry Potter and that Hermione Granger, who pretends to be my
best friend.... just wait until you find out. I promise you will not be disappointed if you look
for me and Hermione at the soda shop outside of Contessa's Formal Wear in Diagon Alley tomorrow
at 10:00 in the morning. I know about your secret (Hermione told me). I won't tell anyone. Show
up for the scoop of your life! Hermione can't get away with this! I'm sure you'll
recognize that bushy-haired know-it-all. I'll be the girl with long red hair who is with her.
I'll look for you and make sure you are able to hear the plans. I bet you'll get a raise
for breaking this news. They think they can keep it a secret. Well, not if I have anything to say
about it!*

*Ginny Weasley*

Ginny read her letter aloud to Harry, Hermione, and Ron who were laughing hysterically.

“Gosh, Gin, what do you really think of me?” Hermione said. She had actually been the one to
suggest that Ginny be really harsh toward her since Rita Skeeter despised her. They knew that the
chance to get back at Hermione along with a scoop about Harry Potter would be too much for her
meddlesome side to ignore.

“This is actually kind of fun,” Ginny commented. “I'm good at this woman scorned thing!”

“Ginny, you're brilliant. Evil, but brilliant,” Harry hugged her and kissed her
forehead.

She turned beet red. “Little sisters have to be evil, especially if they have as many brothers
as I do.”

Ginny tied the letter to Pigwidgeon's leg. They opted to use him since it would lend further
credence to the idea that the letter was simply a plot from a 14 year old girl who was seeking
revenge for a row with her best friend over a boy. Pig was tiny, but he was reliable and this short
letter would not be difficult for him. They released the minute owl and planned to go to Diagon
Alley in the morning.

As they were going upstairs to bed, Dumbledore called to Harry. Harry rolled his eyes before
turning around to face the headmaster wishing that the older man would leave him alone for a
while.

Dumbledore motioned for Harry to follow him, which Harry did. “I'll be up in a few minutes,”
he called to his friends.

Dumbledore led him back to the living room where he had been with Molly and Hermione earlier. “I
have something for you,” he said, pulling a small box out of his pocket. “These were salvaged from
your home the night your parents were killed.”

Harry opened the box and found three rings. Two were solid gold bands. The other was a diamond
cluster. His heart sank, realizing they had been his parents wedding rings.

“I thought you might want to use them for yourself and Hermione,” Dumbledore suggested.

Harry stared at the rings. All he could think was that his parents had been wearing those rings
when they died, when they were brutally murdered by Voldemort. “I, I can't.” he said, handing
the box back to Dumbledore. He somehow felt as if he would be sentencing himself and Hermione to
the same fate if he took the rings.

Dumbledore looked surprised by this. He had, after all, saved them for fifteen years to give to
Harry when he was older and had a safe place for them—not at school or with the Muggles.

“They died. These should have been buried with them.” He turned away from the headmaster.

“Oh,” he said, looking downtrodden. “We saved them for you, thought that you would like to have
them one day.” He set the box down on the coffee table. “They are yours now, Harry. Do with them as
you see fit.” Dumbledore rose and in a moment was gone.

Harry stared at the box. Rings. They were just a cold symbol of what once was, the loving family
he could have had if Voldemort hadn't taken it away from him. No, those rings would not be the
same symbols used for his and Hermione's love. They would be a symbol of what they were
fighting for and what they were fighting against. He knew that his first stop in Diagon Alley would
be the bank, then the jeweler. After all, they wanted it to be leaked that he and Hermione were
planning a wedding. He did not care if the owner recognized him and then shouted it to the world.
He would get Hermione her own, very special ring and she would wear it in perfect health for a very
long time.

************

Hermione and Ginny wandered around Contessa's Formal Wear, fingering materials and
evaluating the many dresses. From ball gowns to bridal gowns, the selection was overwhelming.
Hermione had seen many gowns she loved and Ginny had been partial to a lavender sleeveless dress
that had a wide sash embroidered with tiny flowers.

Ginny checked her watch. It was 10:00 exactly. “Let's go over to the shop across the street
and get a drink,” she suggested. In case Rita Skeeter was in the store, it would appear that she
had orchestrated the whole thing. She and Hermione had planned what they would talk about, though
they did not have a script, as they did not want it to sound rehearsed.

They ambled across the street, ordered some lime sodas and sat down at a black iron table beside
a potted peace lily. Hermione glanced at the plant and, with her eyes, indicated a very distinctive
beetle. “Oh good,” she said, looking around. “There aren't many people milling about today.
That will certainly make things easier... we can shop in peace.”

“Yeah,” Ginny agreed nonenthusiastically. “I still can't believe you're doing this,” she
said leadingly.

Hermione sighed. “Neither can I. But it's the right thing to do.”

“What do you mean?” Ginny asked. She looked around and then made a show of lowering her voice,
but barely changed the tone or pitch. “You're not pregnant, are you?”

“Ginny!” Hermione rolled her eyes, exasperated. “You have to have *sex* in order to get
pregnant!”

“You mean, you haven't?” she asked curiously.

“Of course we haven't! Hermione exclaimed. “What kind of people do you think we are?” she
asked indignantly. “We're waiting for our wedding night, of course.” She glanced over and saw
that the beetle had very clumsily fallen off one leaf and landed on another.

“I bet Harry will be amazing in the sack,” Ginny commented dreamily. “He's so
*powerful.*” She wiggled her eyebrows for emphasis.

“Ginny!” Hermione shrieked, coughing up her soda. The blush on her face was real.

“Getting him into bed would be enough for any witch to marry at 15,” Ginny continued.

“As tempting as that aspect is, it's not that simple.” She sighed heavily, noticing they had
the rapt attention of a certain six-legged eavesdropper. She continued sadly, “I know you love
Harry like a brother, but you don't know *everything*, the whole story.”

“Then tell me,” Ginny encouraged. “You know you can trust me.”

“I know. And I know Harry trusts you too. You'd never do anything to hurt either of us,” she
paused a moment while Ginny waited patiently. “It's awful, what those people have done to
Harry, the way they treated him.”

“You mean his Muggle aunt and uncle?” she prodded.

“Yes,” Hermione answered. “That beast of an uncle of his... Ginny, you *can not* mention
this to *anyone,”* she emphasized the secrecy of what she was about to say. “That horrible
Vernon Dursley nearly killed Harry just a few days ago.”

“What?” Ginny gasp, her mouth gaping open.

Hermione nodded and, though they were setting up Rita, the tears in the corners of her eyes were
very sincere. “He beat him brutally. He had broken ribs, a concussion, was unconscious for a whole
day. He had almost strangled him too. Then,” she wiped her eyes with the palm of her hand, “Then,
he threw Harry into that cupboard where they kept him locked up before Hagrid told him he was a
wizard and brought him to school. He just threw Harry in there to die. When I think that I could
have lost him, that our whole world could have lost the greatest threat we have against
Voldemort...” she didn't finish her sentence. Instead she was crying freely at the very real,
very fresh emotions.

“I, I had no idea,” Ginny choked guiltily. She patted Hermione's arm comfortingly. But how
does that tie in with you planning this rushed wedding?”

“You see, Remus Lupin and your dad went to check on Harry for me. They found him and were able
to save him. I was expecting Harry to visit and when he didn't show up, I asked your dad to
help, to check on him because he had been to Harry's house before. I knew Harry's family
had mistreated, neglected, starved, and abused him his whole life, so I was scared of what thy
could have done to him.”

“They did?” Ginny asked. “He never talks about it.”

“Oh, yes,” Hermione answered. “They worked him like a house elf when he wasn't locked up and
they starved him to punish him for being *different*. But they never told him why he was
different. He didn't even know his parents had been murdered until Hagrid told him!”

“That's awful! I mean, I knew Ron had asked Mum to send Harry food over summer holidays, but
I thought it was just because his cousin was on a diet.”

Hermione shook her head. “No, there was always more to it than that.”

“Well, why didn't Dad tell me Harry had been hurt?” Ginny asked.

“Dumbledore wanted to keep this very quiet. See, Harry can't go back there. He can't
press charges in the Muggle world. Vernon could defend himself by saying Harry was crazy and
thought he was a wizard. It could expose our whole world! Since Dumbledore knows how much Harry and
I love each other, he told us he could make allowances for our marriage as it would emancipate
Harry from those evil relatives and keep both him and our world safe.”

“So, you're getting married so that Harry can be emancipated?” Ginny concluded.

“No,” Hermione responded. “We're getting married because we love each other beyond measure.
We're getting married *now* as opposed to when we graduate so that Harry can be safe from
his relatives. They'll have no claim on him once he's legally an adult... married.”

“Oh,” Ginny said.

“We would have gotten married in two years anyway,” Hermione told her. “We're just doing it
early.”

“And you're okay with this?”

“Ginny, do you have any idea how much I love Harry?” she beamed. “He's been my best friend
since we were eleven years old. We trust, support, and respect each other. He treats me like
I'm a princess. Just plain old me! I never thought anyone would treat me like that.” She leaned
closer to Ginny, “And he's a great kisser,” she added with a giggle.

“So, how long have you felt this way?

“Forever, I think, whether we would admit it or not. You know, I think that Rita Skeeter was
right about us when she wrote that article back in fourth year. She knew before we did. Maybe we
should have listened to her. She really nailed us. Of course, I'd never tell *her* that!”
she snorted. There. The icing on the cake. Not only did Rita have the story of her career, but she
also got a “you were right” to further sweeten the victory and inflate her ego.

“Hermione,” Ginny started shyly, “I'm glad Harry has you. I had no idea he was in such
danger at home.”

She nodded. “Well, my drink is empty. Time to find a wedding dress!” she said brightly. “And a
maid of honor dress for you! I think we should go with the lavender one.”

“Yeah, um, I'll be there in a minute.”

Hermione cocked her head in a silent question, but knew exactly what Ginny had planned.

“Restroom,” she explained.

“Okay. See you in a few. Look for me by the changing room. I know what I want to try on first,”
she said gleefully as she bounded away.

“Miss Skeeter,” Ginny whispered, trying to look inconspicuous. “Come with me.”

“A beetle flew behind her to the bathroom. Seeing that they were alone, Rita transfigured into
herself. “I could kiss you!” she gushed.

“No!” Ginny exclaimed. “You can't print it!”

Rita looked at her as if she were a blast ended skrewt in a pink tutu.

“I didn't know!” she explained desperately. “I didn't know Harry's uncle was abusing
him. Please, please don't print that! It will devastate him if anyone finds out. I'm sure
of it! He hates all the attention he gets from the press. He'll be so embarrassed,” she pleaded
earnestly. “I just wanted to ruin the secret to get back at Hermione for stealing Harry when she
knew I had a crush on him!”

“Nonsense!” Rita brushed her off. “He's a noble and brave young man, moreso than any of us
ever knew. His public deserves to know what that Muggle brute has put him through.”

“No!” Ginny begged, tears coming to her eyes. “Hasn't he been through enough?”

“Exactly why the story should be told! People will be amazed at how strong and brave he is,” she
waved off Ginny's concerns. “And, you, my dear, are to be thanked for the story of a lifetime.
Harry Potter—getting married at sixteen to free himself form his abusive Muggle relatives. It's
absolutely scandalous that a *Muggle* could have so badly hurt the boy who overcame
You-Know-Who.”

“Please, Ms. Skeeter, don't do this to Harry!” Ginny implored.

“Me? You're the one who broke the story.” Rita left a crying Ginny behind. As soon as Ginny
knew she was alone again she broke into riotous laughter. After she got control of herself, she
returned to the dress shop to help Hermione find the perfect gown.

Across the way, Harry and Ron were in Santino's House of Jewels, peering into glass cases to
see hundreds of sparkling items. A middle aged witch in magenta robes asked if they needed any
help.

“Um, yeah,” Harry said. “I need a ring for my girlfriend.”

“Oh, how sweet,” she said. “Are you looking for a birthstone ring, a friendship ring, a promise
ring--”

“An engagement ring,” Harry answered.

She raised her eyebrows, obviously judging his age. “I think you may be too young to set up a
payment account,” she said softly, trying to not embarrass him.

“I'm going to pay today,” he told her. “I just got the money out of my inheritance.”

Ron coughed to get the woman's attention and conspicuously touched his own forehead, then
looked at Harry whose scar could barely be seen through his messy black hair.

“Oh. Oh!” the witch said, gasping with recognition. “What kind of ring were you looking for, Mr.
Potter?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Thanks, Ron,” he muttered pretending to be embarrassed. Well, it really
wasn't pretend, but it was preplanned that Ron would tell the clerk who Harry was if she did
not catch on immediately.

Ron shrugged. “You're bloody freaking Harry Potter. If you want a ring, they should sell you
a ring,” he said.

“Please don't tell anyone,” Harry requested. “I would like to give it to her before she
reads about it in the paper.”

“Of course,” the witch responded. “Now, would you like a traditional diamond or something more
unconventional?”

“A solitaire,” he answered. He had considered Hermione's personality and decided to go with
the tradition of a diamond, but something different than the cluster type his mother had.

“Wonderful! What cut? Princess? Marquise? Emerald? Diamond?”

“Yeah, I want a diamond,” he answered again, not realizing she was referring to shapes. “A round
one.” He looked at the diamonds in the case the clerk had led him to while asking about cuts. “I
like that one,” he said, pointing to a ¾ carat stone set in gold and shimmering as it caught the
light.

“Absolutely beautiful,” she said, retrieving the ring for him to inspect it more closely.

He held it and showed it to Ron, “What do you think? Not too big, not too small?”

“Yeah,” Ron answered. “She wouldn't want anything gaudy. That looks like something she would
like.”

“I'll take it,” Harry said, handing the ring back. “I want to get the bands today too,” he
added casually.

“So soon?” she asked skeptically.

“Yeah. I want to pay for them and I don't want her to argue about it,” he laughed, giving
his most charming smile.

“Very well,” she answered. “What kind of band? Solid, Engraved? Jeweled?”

“Solid,” he replied, knowing that neither of them would want something very fancy.

He picked matching gold bands that Ron agreed were the right choice and added them to his
order.

“I also need two gold chains.”

“My! You should come into our store more often, Mr. Potter,” she grinned, thinking of her
commission.

“What are the chains for?” Ron asked.

“It's a surprise,” Harry told him.

“For your future best man?” Ron asked playfully.

“No.” Harry answered seriously, though in good fun.

As he was paying, the clerk asked, “Who's the lucky lady?”

“Can I trust you not to tell?” he asked, with a disarming smile. He was glad to give her the
information so that she could confirm it if any questions were asked by (a) nosey reporter(s).

“Of course,” she beamed excitedly, thrilled to be the first of the general public to know who
the famous Harry Potter was going to marry.

Harry looked around, though no one else was in the store, and whispered, “Hermione Granger, my
best friend.”

“I thought *I* was your best friend!” Ron sulked.

“You were,” Harry answered. “Until I kissed Hermione.”




































27. PART 27 Hhhh is for Hairball
--------------------------------

*Author's Warning: If you don't like fluff, leave now. ;-)*




The teens returned from Diagon Alley a bit subdued. All four had garment bags. Hermione and
Ginny had new dresses and Harry and Ron both had new black dress robes, fancier than anything worn
for the Yule Ball. They had dropped hints about the upcoming wedding, at least the one in
September, all over Diagon Alley. Rita Skeeter's article was only going to confirm the rumors
that were probably already circulating.

Before they went to hang their clothes, Harry said, “Hermione, meet me downstairs in half an
hour. Wear something pretty.”

She gave him a quizzing look.

“Just do it,” he said.

So, she did. In thirty minutes, Hermione met Harry as requested. She was wearing a yellow
sundress and had her hair pulled back and tied with a yellow ribbon.

Harry gave her a bouquet of red roses as she met him at the base of the stairs.

“Oh, they're beautiful,” she gushed. She inhaled their sweet fragrance, “Nice.”

“They don't compare to you.” He took her hand and led her to a room that was bewitched to
look like their own private restaurant. There was a single, small marble-topped table and two cloth
covered burgandy chairs. A podium with a vase stood beside the table ready to hold the flowers. The
room was lit with at least a hundred white candles.

Harry escorted Hermione to her seat and pulled it out for her to sit down. “This is how it's
supposed to be done,” he said as he pushed her chair closer to the table.

“This is so sweet,” she said. “How did you arrange it?”

“I had some help from Mrs. Weasley, er, Mum.” Even though Harry would keep his surname, the
Weasleys had told him he could call them *Mum* and *Dad* if he felt comfortable with it.
He had taken it as a request for him to do so and was working on the comfort factor. He did not
want to disrespect his own parents, but he did not want to hurt the Weasleys. They had practically
adopted him. He justified it by reasoning that many people called their in-laws *Mum* and
*Dad* or called non-relatives *Aunt* or *Uncle*. It was nice to have someone to call
*Mum*. He could not imagine that he loved Mrs. Weasley any less than the idea of his own
mother.

Hermione nodded, understanding the myriad of emotions that Harry was going through by calling
someone other than Lily by *Mum*.

Dobby appeared, “Mr. Harry Potter, Sir,” he started. “Ms. Granger, Dobby is serving you tonight.
What can Dobby bring to drink?”

“Thanks, Dobby,” Harry said. “I'd like pumpkin juice. Hermione?”

“Me too,” she said.

“Right away, sir and miss,” he said.

“He's cute,” Hermione commented.

Harry reached across the table to take her hand, “No, you're cute.”

“No, you're cute,” she argued teasingly.

“No, you're cute,” As they argued, they got closer and closer until they were both standing
and kissing over the middle of the table.

Dobby squeaked and they both returned to their seats. He set down their goblets, two plates of
salad, and a basket of different kinds of breads. “Enjoy!” Dobby said, disappearing.

In a moment, Dobby was back with a violin. He played parts of “Someone to Watch Over Me,” “It
Had to Be You,” “Th Way You Look Tonight,” and “You Belong to Me.”

The clapped exuberantly between songs. “I didn't know you could play!” Hermione
exclaimed.

“Neither did Dobby, miss,” he answered with a bright blush on his cheeks.

He brought their entrees: filet mignon, garlic mashed potatoes, and steamed carrots and green
beans. He then left to give them privacy.

“I can't believe you did this,” Hermione said lovingly.

“I figure I have to squeeze about two years worth of courtship into one night,” he joked. He
took her hand again. “But don't worry, I'll still be trying to court you when we're
eighty. I plan to sweep you off your feet for the rest of our lives.”

She sighed, “You're off to a great start.”

Neither brought up the subjects of Voldemort or Rita Skeeter or even their first wedding though
they would be legally married in twenty four hours. They talked about their future as if it were
certain. They would both be aurors or maybe professors at Hogwarts or maybe they would disappear
into the Muggle world. Hermione worked her way down to six kids as they laughed over the image of
sending their “spawn” (as Lupin so eloquently described their future children) to Snape.

“And if Neville and Ginny get together, he could be teaching Weasley-Longbottom spawn at the
same time as the Granger-Potter spawn,” Hermione giggled at the mental picture of an incredibly
distressed Severus Snape.

“Don't forget the Weasley-Lovegood spawn,” Harry added. “Hey, maybe I should hyphenate my
name to Potter-Weasley and we could call our kids Granger-Potter-Weasleys. They'd terrify every
teacher at Hogwarts that way.”

Hermione laughed, but then said, “Ewww.”

“What?”

“I just realized... the Slytherins will reproduce too.”

Harry blinked twice, “Ewww,” he agreed. At the same time, they both said, “Goyle Spawn!” and
fell into fits of laughter.

“I think I've lost my appetite,” Hermione coughed.

They were laughing again when Dobby brought in a desert, pumpkin cheesecake.

“I couldn't eat another bite,” Hermione declared after finishing her desert.

“Me either,” Harry agreed. “But I have another surprise for you,” he told her.

“As long as you don't want me to eat it,” she grinned. “I'm not going to fit into my
dress tomorrow.”

“No, I don't want you to eat it.” He stood and helped her to her feet.

The violin started again, though Dobby was nowhere to be seen. Harry pulled Hermione into his
arms and they danced slowly and very closely. He smelled the familiar faint scent of her hair. He
realized it was the most comforting smell to him as he kissed her ear.

Hermione giggled as Harry's breath at her neck tickled. She turned to meet his lips and they
kissed deeply and more sensually than ever before. Harry's hands were around her waist and she
had her fingers in his hair while rubbing his back with her other hand. They had stopped dancing.
He kissed a trail down her neck to the porcelain skin just above the top of her dress. Hermione did
not want him to stop, but he did.

She opened her eyes to find Harry on one bended knee. She met his striking green eyes and felt
as though she had stopped breathing.

“Hermione,” he began, “I wanted a moment for just you and me, to let you know how much I love
you.”

She felt happy tears in the corners of her eyes.

“Circumstances have put us in a difficult position, but I think circumstances have prepared us
too. I know that I could do nothing without you. You're my strength, my saving grace.
You're the voice in my head that keeps me going. I didn't know what love felt like until
you came along. You've taught me so much more than charms that have saved my life. You've
taught me how to be a friend, how to find hope, how to believe in something. You've taught me
what love feels like and you've taught me that,” his voice broke. “That *someone* does
love me.” He tried to fight all the negative memories of his relatives spitting that he was a
worthless freak. “I lived thinking that was impossible for so long.”

Hermione's tears spilled as she thought of how much Harry's relatives had hurt him
emotionally, not just physically.

He continued, “You've give me possibility, brightness in the darkest times, and a reason to
fight whatever I have to in order to secure our safety and future. More than anything else,
it's you. Hermione, my Mione, I love you.” He opened a black velvet box to reveal the ring
he'd bought her.

With tears that were now of joy streaming, Hermione answered with a resounding, “Yes! Yes! Yes!
Yes! Yes!”

Harry slipped the ring onto her finger and hand trembled as she raised it to get a better view.
“It's beautiful!” she gasp. “Stunning!”

Harry got to his feet, “No you're beautiful.”

“No, you're beautiful.”

“No, you're beautiful,” she ended the argument with her lips meeting his again.

Somewhere in the room, a very happy hidden house elf began to play another song.












28. PART 28 The Daily Prophet
-----------------------------

Hermione watched Harry closely as the group sat at the kitchen table waiting for the owl post of
the Daily Prophet. They were confident that Rita Skeeter's scoop would be making headlines.

For his part, Harry felt like throwing up. Not only was this his wedding day, and he was due a
fair share of nerves, but at this very moment witches and wizards throughout the United Kingdom
were probably reading far more about his life than he had ever wanted to be revealed. The Belgian
waffle with honey that he normally would have devoured sat barely touched on his plate while Ron
was on his second helping. He wondered if Ron ate when he was stressed out or if nothing affected
Ron's appetite. But, what did Ron have to be nervous about? All he had to do was keep up with
the rings. The thought of Ron keeping up with the rings succeeded in adding an extra jolt of panic
to Harry's already writhing insides.

The air was thick with tension. Hermione's parents had gone home to inform her grandmother
and sister of the weddings. They were going to be part of the small ceremony that was to take place
that evening. Arthur had gone to work so as not to cast suspicion of his prior knowledge of the
article. He was prepared to face a lot of questions given his known closeness to Harry and
Hermione.

Dumbledore was at Hogwarts. He was expecting to hear from the board of governors today.
Professor McGonagall had come to Grimmauld Place to offer support for her Gryffindors. Lupin, of
course, was there as he had taken up residency in the old Black Family Home per Sirius' request
months ago. Snape, also at Hogwarts, was brewing potions specifically for Harry and Hermione to use
later that evening.

Harry picked at his waffle and dribbled pools of honey over it every so often in a useless
attempt to look like he was eating. He caught Hermione's eye and tried to smile. He could tell
she was feeling a lot like he was today. Every once in a while she would look at her ring and give
him a beaming smile. He sipped at his glass of milk.

Hermione's plate looked a lot like Harry's, only she was not even faking interest in her
food. “Where is that stupid owl?” she muttered.

On cue, a tawny barn owl swooped into the window, dropped the paper at Lupin's plate and
took off after receiving payment.

As expected, Rita had written the top story. The headline blared *HARRY POTTER BOMBSHELLS*
in large bold letters. There was a photo of Harry and Hermione that had been taken after a
Quidditch match. Hermione was hugging Harry and both had big smiles on their faces. There was
another more unexpected photo—that of Uncle Vernon. He looked as if he had spoken to the
photographer for a minute before slamming the door in his face.

Lupin began to read: *Rita Skeeter, on special assignment for the Daily Prophet, can
exclusively reveal that Harry Potter, 16, plans to wed his long-time girlfriend Hermione Granger,
15.*

*The lovebirds were both in Diagon Alley yesterday. Mr. Potter was seen withdrawing a hefty
sum from his bank account and browsing at Santino's. Ms. Granger bought a stunning bridal gown
at Contessa's and told sales staff that she would be marrying on October 1.*

*In a conversation with Ms. Granger and her maid-of-honor Ginny Weasley, 14, it was revealed
that love is not the sole reason for the upcoming nuptials. And, no, it is not pregnancy either, as
the two have decided to follow all traditional wizard customs, though both were raised by
Muggles.*

*In a life already marred with trauma, one secret sorrow of our hero has been kept from his
adoring and indebted public. Harry Potter, the boy who defeated You-Know-Who as a baby and gave us
years of peace, the child who has faced the Dark Lord multiple times and lived to tell, the one who
was ridiculed for revealing the truth of You-Know-Who's rise back to power, this our hero, has
suffered years of physical and emotional abuse and neglect at the hands of his Muggle
relatives.*

“Good Lord,” Harry interrupted, irritated by the tragic description of him given in the
article.

Lupin continued reading: *With an act worthy of You-Know-Who's greatest ally, Vernon
Dursley, Potter's uncle nearly murdered the young man on his sixteenth birthday, July 31. As an
underage wizard who can not do magic while in Muggle society, the small-framed Potter was unable to
defend himself against the brute strength and violent temper of his gargantuan uncle, pictured at
right. This beast brutally attacked Potter, leaving him unconscious and bleeding to death. He was
rescued by Arthur Weasley of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office and Remus Lupin, former Defense
Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts.*

*Potter suffered several broken bones, a concussion, and was unconscious for over twenty-four
hours reveals his fiance. Ms. Granger also reveals that this was only the latest in a history of
physical and emotional abuse he endured. As a child, she says he was kept locked in a closet when
he was not being “worked like a house elf.” He was starved as punishment for being “different,”
though he did not know why he was “different.” Mr. Potter did not learn that he was a wizard or
that his parents Lily and James Potter had been murdered until the first time he was rescued from
the Dursleys by Rubeus Hagrid, Hogwarts' Care of Magical Creatures professor, on his
11th birthday.*

*Because marriage would guarantee emancipation from his abusive relatives, his only blood kin,
Hogwarts Headmaster Albus Dumbledore has suggested that the couple, who had planned to wed upon
graduation, marry while still enrolled in school.*

*This reporter, for one, is horrified that our brave young Mr. Potter was not removed from
this situation years ago. I find it infuriating that his friends had to send him food so he could
survive summer holidays and the faculty at Hogwarts and the Minstry of Magic turned a blind eye to
his living conditions while basking in the freedom and safety that he gave them. To think that our
beloved Boy-Who-Lived was mistreated for years by Muggles! It is an outrage!* The Daily Prophet
*is calling for an investigation into the lax protections given to Mr. Potter throughout his
childhood.*

*I would like to be the first to publicly extend my heartfelt congratulations and best wishes
to the young couple. May you find years of happiness together, free from such horrors as you've
experienced thus far. I'm sure all the wizarding world will celebrate Harry's freedom as
well as his love.*

“Well, I'd say she's back in your fan club,” Ron commented, breaking the silence that
followed Lupin's oration of the article.

Harry was glad someone had said something as he had no idea how to react. Part of him wanted to
run and hide in the nearest closet to avoid this scrutiny. Another part was resigned to the truth,
the revelation, and the intent of the revelation to bring him closer to his confrontation with
Voldemort. “So, what now?” he asked.

“Now? Now we have a wedding to get ready for. What comes of the article will come. Don't let
it dampen this day,” McGonagall answered. Harry was sure her eyes were glistening more than normal.
Surely the article wasn't about to make her cry.

She got up and walked to Hermione. “Come on, dear. I bet your mother will be arriving shortly.
We have to do your hair and nails and makeup. And let me see that gorgeous ring!” she exclaimed
taking Hermione's hand. “Molly, I trust you'll be readying the house?”

Mrs. Weasley nodded. Harry noticed that she looked as if she were fighting tears as well. For
some reason, this made him want to crawl under the table. Maybe having never gotten any sympathy as
a child had made him despise being on the receiving end of it. He did not know whether to comfort
Molly, let her comfort him, as she obviously wanted to do—not that he needed comforting, thank you
very much—or just ignore the concern and hope it would go away.

“Then let's go. I don't believe that nonsense about a groom seeing his bride the day of
the wedding, but there should be some level of expectation. Mr. Potter, the next time you see this
young lady, she will be walking toward you to take your hand in marriage.” She chattered on about
her own wedding day as she led Hermione and Ginny from the kitchen. They were not even aware that
she had been married or widowed. Hermione glanced back at Harry and gave him a warm smile. Somehow,
this all felt surreal. Was she really going to be Mrs. Harry Potter in a few hours? She felt like
she was walking in a dream.

Harry returned her smile, also feeling like this was all a dream. It was a lot to take in at one
time—his history of abuse was revealed and that was tearing him up inside. He hated pity. He hated
that his life was on display. He hated that everyone who loved or despised him had this knowledge.
Before, the playing field was more level. He felt entirely overexposed.

Then there was the wedding. In hours he would be married to Hermione and he had no idea what
that meant other than they were expected to consummate their marriage. He pondered how that
expectation was going to affect them. Was it fair to Hermione to put this pressure on her? Was it
even fair to him? If the way he felt last night while kissing her was any indication, he was sure
that the act would come naturally enough and that they both wanted it. But would they regret moving
this far this fast? Would they both resent having this decision and timeline thrust upon them by
Voldemort? Did it even matter how they felt when so many innocent lives were at stake? Hundreds of
people would suffer and be murdered if they did not agree with Voldemort. Muggles would be murdered
just because they were Muggles. They could not risk his success in any more dark magic blood
rituals.

What about the ceremony itself? Would it live up to Hermione's dreams? Maybe she would like
her relatives to be present at her wedding. Sure, the small ceremony was fine for Harry. Just about
everyone he cared about would be there. He did not have family to consider.

He sighed heavily. All his questions and ponderings were useless. Nothing would change. He and
Hermione would be married tonight with a small group assembled to wish them well. He decided then
that one day he would see to it that Hermione had the wedding she wanted, no matter what it
entailed.

“What are you thinking about, dear?” Mrs. Weasley asked as she cleared dishes.

“Everything,” Harry answered. He even looked weighed down.

“It will all work out for the best,” Molly promised.

“Thanks,” he forced a smile. “So, what do we need to do to get the house ready?” he asked, eager
to occupy himself with something to stay busy.

“You? Nothing. You and Ron are to go upstairs and get yourselves ready for tonight. I'll be
up to check on you after I take care of the house.”

“For ten hours?” Harry asked. “I'm sure we could be more useful here.”

“I've got everything under control,” Molly told him firmly. “You will not be working on your
wedding day.”

“Come on, Harry,” Ron said. “We can see if Fred and George want to come over and celebrate the
last few hours of your bachelorhood.”

“Oh, no you can't!” Molly said, stopping them. “Fred and George don't know this wedding
is taking place tonight. They're to be under the impression that the wedding will be in
October. Dumbledore wants as few of us as possible to know the truth.”

“Oh,” Ron said disappointedly. He was sure a visit from the twins would liven up their day and
help Harry get through these last few hours of worry.

“Go behave yourselves,” Remus told them. “Molly and I will handle things with a few waves of our
wands.”

Back at Hogwarts, Dumbledore had gone to check on the Potion Master. “Severus, how is it coming
along?” he asked, peering into the cauldron.

“Fine, but why did you request this specific fertility potion? If they make a mistake--”

“There will be no mistakes,” Dumbledore interrupted. “I plan to see that each of them gets the
correct dose myself.”

Severus nodded. “And will I be expected to brew birth control the entire time the Potters are
enrolled?”

“I'm sure Ms. Granger, or I should say, Mrs. Potter can handle this recipe herself.”

Severus snorted. It wasn't missed on his part that Dumbledore thought Granger could handle
the recipe, but had not suggested that Potter was put in charge of something so important. “It
should be ready in an hour. I have to separate it and add the ginger root to his and the gardenia
nectar to hers. It will be ready in plenty of time.”

“Excellent,” Dumbledore commented. “I shall deliver it when the time is right. Can we expect you
at the ceremony?”

“I should say not,” Severus told him. “I already know too much.”

Dumbledore nodded. “Just as well. I must leave you know. I'm sure there will a new stack of
letters on my desk. It seems the public is thoroughly outraged over the Prophet article and the
board of governors, what's left of them, are expressing their concerns as well. I will have to
smooth a few ruffled feathers.”

And so they spent their day: Dumbledore accepting owls; Severus finishing his potions; the
adults at Grimmauld fussing and fretting over the details; and the teenagers whiling away ten very
long hours.




A/N: I appreciate the feedback and continued interest in my story. I'm sorry it's taken
so long to update. I've been way too sick to write coherently this week. Someone has asked
about Harry not getting into trouble do for doing underage magic. I'm operating under the
assumption that the restriction of underage magic applies to underage magic in Muggle society. Fred
and George have never gotten into trouble for working on their jokes. None of the kids were
reprimanded for using their wands at the QWC. Also, I hope everyone will play along with my
tweaking of Minerva's life. This is fan fic and AU, afterall. In case anyone is wondering where
other Order Members are, they'll come along later. They're *not* invited to the
wedding. LOL

Harrynlupin: the “Hhh is for Hairball” title was a warning for the fluff level of the last
chapter. I was coughing up hairballs after writing it. ;)

Cronje: you can change fonts at the top of every chapter if there's a certain style/size you
prefer.



















































29. PART 29 The Wedding!
------------------------

“Okay, just calm down,” Hermione told herself. “I am not going to trip.” She smoothed her skirt
as she surveyed herself in a full length mirror.

“Every bride is nervous on her wedding day,” Jane told her as she straightened her
daughter's veil. “I, however, did trip walking up the aisle, as you know. And, that, my dear
brilliant child, is why you had the foresight to buy flats.”

Hermione giggled picturing her parents' wedding photographs in her mind. Her mother, already
taller than her father, had towered over him thanks to her (at the time) stylish high heels. She
had heard the tripping story many times and always feared landing flat on her face at her
groom's feet. Her mother had not made a fool of herself, but she had nearly tumbled. They
figured averting such disasters was the reason brides were supposed to be escorted down the
isle.

“You look beautiful,” Jane told her. Hermione's hair was smoothed with Sleekeasy's and
elegantly upswept in a loose bun while ringlets framed her face. She had on just enough makeup to
highlight her natural beauty and keep shine down for photographs. “Just like a princess.”

Hermione did look like a princess. Her sleeveless gown was made of snowy white organza with a
floor length tiered ball gown skirt, a fitted bodice, and sweetheart neckline. Elegant Manila lace
accented with tiny pearls adorned the bodice. A delicate floral band around her hair held her sheer
elbow length veil in place. The veil gave an enchanting finish to her look.

“Breathtaking,” McGonagall added, her eyes twinkling. She had helped the girls get ready with
Jane while Molly flitted back and forth between the bride and groom and maid of honor and best
man.

Ginny's long straight hair cascaded over her bare shoulders and she looked very pretty in
her lavender dress. Juliette was wearing a smaller version of the same dress and, with much effort,
her hair had been curled and also fell in thick rings over her shoulders.

“So, do we have everything?” McGonagall asked? “Have you got that traditional old, new,
borrowed, blue that Muggles like?”

Hermione felt the necklace she was wearing, a strand of pearls with a diamond pendant that
belonged to her mother. “This is old and borrowed. My ring and dress are both new. I don't have
anything blue.”

“Yes you do,” Ginny told her. “I almost forgot.” Ginny retrieved a small box from the dresser.
Inside was a blue garter belt. “This was my mom's and she wants you to wear it, so something of
hers can be part of the wedding.”

“Awww, that's so sweet,” Hermione gushed as tears came to her eyes.

Seeing that Hermione was about to cry and smear her mascara Ginny quickly added, “She's only
letting you wear it because Harry wouldn't.”

That did the trick. Hermione's tears stopped before they could be shed and she began
laughing at the image Ginny had created in her mind.

McGonagall reached into the pocket of her robe and pulled out a silver sixpence. “Put this in
your shoe, dear.” Hermione took the coin and slipped it into her right shoe, remembering that it
was a lucky omen for health and wealth.

Suddenly Hermione's face turned ashen, “I don't have a bouquet!” she squealed. “How
could I have forgotten it?! What am I going to do?”

“It's okay,” Ginny soothed. “We were bound to forget something putting this thing together
in 3 days while hoodwinking Rita Skeeter.

“I'll run into the garden and see if anything is blooming,” Jane offered, chiding herself
for not thinking of the flowers earlier.

“Don't bother!” McGonagall said, waving it off. She muttered “Florasencia” and a bouquet
sprung from her wand. It was a beautiful arrangement of bluebells, lilies, and greenery tied
together with a white bow.

“Thank you so much!” Hermione sighed with relief. “This is perfect. She knew Harry would
appreciate the lilies and bluebells had always been her favorite flower. She wondered if McGonagall
knew that, if it was a lucky guess, or if the spell somehow fit the flowers to the occasion.

“How do you feel?” Jane asked.

“Like I'm walking in a very weird, very happy dream and I don't want to wake up.”

“Like a bride,” McGonagall interpreted.

“No doubts?” Jane quizzed. “You can still change your mind.”

Hermione thought a moment. “The only thing I'm worried about is that I'm not more
worried,” she answered. “I ought to be making a mental list of all the reasons not to do this, but
all I can think about, all I can feel right now, is how much I love Harry; how much I've always
loved him; how much I want to be with him for the rest of my life; what our six kids are going to
be like; how proud I am to be his bride; and how proud I will be to be his wife. I love him and my
heart feels like it could explode because I love him so much and so deeply and so... so... just...
I love him,” she gushed, putting a fist to her chest over her heart. “It's the strongest, most
basic feeling. I can't describe it. I think we could face anything together,” she said with
passion in her eyes. “And win,” she added.

“You're worried that you're not more worried?” Julie asked. “You're weird.”

Hermione shook her head. Julie was too young to understand. She wasn't sure anyone in the
room could really understand. Had anyone ever felt this way about about another person? She could
not imagine her mother or her head of house feeling this intensity even though she knew her mother
loved her father and had learned that the professor had had a much loved husband as well. “Mom, how
are you holding up?” she asked.

“Better than your father. I think he drank an entire bottle of Pepto this morning. Kept
muttering somethng about *his baby*.”

“He'll be fine. Fathers always are.” McGonagall told them. Hermione had learned much about
her teacher today. Her husband, an auror, had been murdered by Voldemort or his supporters. She
wasn't even sure who had killed him. She had been especially happy to have Harry in her house
because of this.

Hermione glanced at her fingernails, now a soft almost transparent pink. “Good thing you painted
them, otherwise I'd be chewing them. Julie, give me your hand,” she joked, pretending to bite
her sister's nails. “What time is it?”

“Quarter to six,” her mother answered, glancing at her dainty gold watch. She was also wearing
lavender as it as the theme for the bridal party.

Hermione's stomach gave a lurch. Fifteen minutes! Fifteen minutes until she would walk down
the aisle, or across the room, as the case was. That meant it was approximately twenty-five minutes
until she would be Mrs. Harry Potter. “Hermione Jane Potter,” she whispered.

“That's you,” Ginny told her, smiling.

“Amost,” she nodded. “Almost.”

********************************************************************




Harry swallowed, trying to force the incredibly large dry lump in his throat to go back down. He
really could use a glass of water, or a gallon. But then, he thought he might wet himself during
the ceremony and that would surely be embarrassing.

“I felt the same way the day I married Molly,” Arthur told him, patting him on the back. “Wide
eyes, dry mouth, sweaty palms, butterflies in my stomach,” he laughed. “But that all worked out
just fine, didn't it?”

“Er, thanks,” Harry said, though he was not certain he should be grateful. Prior to this, his
hands had not been sweating, but they seemed to give into the powers of suggestion quite easily.
Now he might drop the ring somewhere between throwing up and passing out.

He had had a stressful day. Between chess games which he sorely lost to Ron, he had revealed his
embarrassment over the whole situation. He told Ron that he hated that everyone who had access to a
Daily Prophet knew his history, but worse than that, he hated that everyone in that house knew
exactly what he and Hermione would be doing that night. “It's awful!” Harry told him.

“Oh, it's not so bad,” Ron said. “It's what every couple does on their wedding night.
Hell, that's probably the best reason there is to get married.”

“But most couples have already done it before they get married,” Harry argued.

“Are you bloody mad?” Ron gasp.

“Huh?”

“*No one* does it before they're married!” Ron told him. “We don't even *talk*
about it!”

Harry was silent, thinking over his friend's words. Now that Ron said it, it actually made
some sense. He was certain that if he went to a Muggle boarding school and had four male roommates
they would talk about sex all the time like Dudley and his friends. Maybe the wizarding stance was
reflected in the peculiar absence of sexual discussion by his dorm mates. He wondered if he would
ever stop learning new things about this culture.

“You mean Muggles do?” Ron asked sheepishly.

“Uh, yeah,” Harry answered. “At least that's the impression I get from Dudley and what
television I get to see while I'm with the Dursleys.”

“That's messed up,” Ron commented as he put away the chess board.

“So, I shouldn't be as embarrassed as I am?” Harry questioned. “I mean, can you imagine
discussing your virginity with Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape?”

Ron thought about it. “That would be embarrassing no matter what,” he answered truthfully. “But,
other than that, no. No reason to be all uptight over it,” he shrugged. “You should be ashamed if
weren't a virgin on your wedding night.”

“I'm so glad you know what you're talking about when it comes to being a wizard,” Harry
told him. “I'm a complete dunderhead.”

“Nah,” Ron objected, turning slightly pink. “You were just raised by dunderheads.”

Molly had interrupted their third game of exploding snap and told them, thoroughly exasperated,
that they should be getting ready by now. “You both have to shower and get dressed and...”

They looked at her expectantly. Other than showering and getting dressed, just *what* were
they supposed to do?

“Oh,” she said, frowning slightly. There really was not much for them to have to do. “Well, get
on with it anyway,” she ordered. “Your hair has to have time to dry,” she added weakly, ignoring
the fact that they would both likely use simple drying spells.

So, they had both showered and dressed and were playing cards again when she came back and got
onto them for lounging around in their dress robes and getting them wrinkled. She put an
anti-wrinkling charm on their robes and told them to stand as much as possible before flitting out
of the room again saying something about a cake.

“Nutters,” Ron commented. “If she charmed them to not wrinkle, why does she want us to
stand?”

“She's stressed, getting the house fixed up by herself. Not that that stupid house elf was
any help,” Harry commented. Dumbledore had removed Kreacher from the Black house after his betrayal
of Sirius. Harry didn't know or care what had become of him.

Harry took Mrs. Weasley's advice to stand to heart and began pacing around the room. It was
a good excuse to exercise out some of his nervous energy.

“Would you be still?” Ron asked eventually, “You're making me dizzy.”

Arthur joined them a little while later. He had also changed into his dress robes. “Well, boys,
are you ready?” he asked, glancing at his watch. “It's almost show time.” He had escorted the
boys to the largest room in Grimmauld place. It was now brightly lit, decorated with flowers, a few
folding chairs were lined up for family and friends and an arbor stood near the front of the room,
covered with ivy and roses. A buffet table was set up along one wall with little sandwiches, raw
vegetables, cookies, cheesepuffs, crisps, dips, mints, and a bowl full of a pink punch with
strawberries and pineapple rings floating on the top. On a small, round table adjacent to the
larger one, was a three tiered white cake decorated with roses made of frosting. Harry noticed that
the little bride and groom on the top looked exactly like Hermione and himself.

Arthur led Harry and Ron to their places at the front of the room and asked if they had the
ring. Ron reached into his pocket and found the wedding band. “Yep, got it.”

Soon, Dumbledore walked into the room, escorting Hermione's grandmother on his arm. He led
her to a seat and then joined Harry, Ron, and Mr. Weasley who was standing beside Harry.

“Are you doing the ceremony?” Ron asked.

Dumbledore smiled and nodded. “Yes. By Order of Merlin, First Class I am able to oversee such
magical ceremonies, which is lucky as we can avoid bringing in a minister this way.”

Harry took a deep breath. “What time is it?” he asked. Hermione's mother, Mrs. Weasley,
Professors McGonagall, Lupin and Hagrid had all walked in and taken their seats. Molly was dabbing
at her eyes with a lace handkerchief. She gave a broad smile to Harry after she sat next to
Remus.

“It looks like it's time to start the music,” Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling more than
Harry had ever seen them do previously. Instantly, music began and within seconds, Julie was
walking toward him, tossing flower petals on the floor from a small basket in her hand. After she
finished, Julie took a seat next to her mother. Ginny followed, holding a bouquet of lilies. Ginny
smiled at the boys before taking her place. Harry saw her check her own hand for his wedding band,
which she had placed on her thumb to keep up with it.

The music changed and the traditional bridal march filled the air. Everyone got to their feet
and turned to watch Hermione, on the arm of her father, walk gracefully up the isle.

Harry was floored by the sight before him. He had never seen Hermione look more beautiful than
she did at that moment. She looked radiant behind her veil. Her dress was stunning. Her diamond
pendant and ring caught the light. The flowers she carried were perfect and he had a fleeting
thought of his mother as he noticed the lilies, but he could think of little else than the vision
of loveliness approaching him. His bride. His destiny.

Hermione and her father stopped just before the arbor. She handed her bouquet to Ginny who held
it with her own.

“Who gives this witch in the honorable tradition of matrimony?” Dumbledore asked.

“John and Jane Granger present our daughter to her groom,” John Granger answered. One could tell
that he had been told how to respond prior to the ceremony.

“And who gives this wizard in the honorable tradition of matrimony?”

“On behalf of his parents James and Lily Potter, and his godfather Sirius Black, Arthur and
Molly Weasley present our son to his bride.”

John and Arthur guided Harry and Hermione's hands to each other, then both sat down beside
their wives.

Harry and Hermione both looked at their joined hands first, and then into one another's
eyes. They both smiled. Harry wanted to tell Hermione how beautiful she looked, but was unsure if
he was allowed to speak freely, so he thought it best to keep quiet rather than mess up the
ceremony.

Hermione could tell from the look in his eyes that Harry thought she was beautiful. She smiled
brightly, ecstatic to be standing beside him, her hand in his, on the virge of being his wife.

Dumbledore placed his own hand on top of Harry and Hermione's joined hands. “Harry James
Potter and Hermione Jane Granger have come today to pledge their love and lifelong devotion and
fidelity to one another in the company of these witnesses. Let no one attempt to come between them,
for it is written that the union of marriage is a holy, pure, and everlasting bond.”

Harry swallowed. Wizard marriages were to last forever. *Forever* was a word sometimes
thrown loosely about with the promise of young love, yet he could not imagine anything but
*forever* with Hermione.

They maintained eye contact as Dumbledore continued to speak.

“Do you both come freely without coercion and willingly agree to the everlasting bond about to
be created?”

“We do,” they answered in union, their eyes never wavering from one another.

“Do you vow to hold one another in highest honor above all others from this day forward?”

“We do.”

“Do you vow to be faithful one to another, forsaking all others, from this day forward?”

“We do.”

“Do you vow to face together all things which life may bring you?”

“We do.”

“Do you vow to love and cherish one another from this day forward?

“We do.”

He turned to those assembled. “Can anyone provide just cause that these two not move forward
with the life they wish to create together?”

Of course, no one had any objections.

“Hermione, please place your ring on your groom's finger.”

Hermione took the ring from Ginny and slid it onto Harry's left hand. “With this ring, I
thee wed,” she said, having been told prior to the ceremony to do so at this point.

“Harry, please place your ring on your bride's finger.”

Harry got his ring from Ron and slid it onto Hermione's finger. “With this ring, I thee
wed.”

“These rings are a symbol of the eternal promise which Harry and Hermione have made to one
another. Like the bands of gold, their love will know no beginning and no end. It is, was, and
evermore shall be.”

Dumbledore touched his wand to the top of both of their heads and then to their rejoined hands.
They were instantly surrounded by a warm golden light which glowed brightly and then disappeared.
“By the Order of Merlin, I pronounce you husband and wife. Harry, you may kiss your bride.”

Harry's hands shook slightly as he lifted Hermione's veil. Their lips met in a soft,
short kiss. They turned to face their family and friends. Dumbledore announced, “I proudly present
Mr. and Mrs. Harry Potter. As witnesses to this blessed union, each of us is bound to support this
couple along the path the follow.”

There was a burst of applause as everyone in the room got to their feet. Harry noticed that
every female in the room had tears in her eyes and the males were doing their best to pretend not
to. In seconds, they were being hugged from all directions.

Ron embraced them both in an uncharacteristic show of emotion. “You two are perfect together,”
he told them. “I really mean it.”

“You're part of us,” Harry told him.

“Yeah,” Ron agreed as his parents and Ginny joined their hug. “We're all Weasleys now.”

“I can't imagine a better thing to be,” Harry told his family. He kept one hand joined with
Hermione's.

Hermione gave Ron a kiss on his cheek and then one to Mr. Weasley. Mrs. Weasley embraced them
both tightly. “I love you both so much!” she cried.

“Let us in on this,” Jane said, joining the group hug with her husband. Harry could feel little
Julie's head above his waist as she grabbed onto them too. He saw flashes going off and
realized that Lupin was acting as photographer. When they all separated from the gigantic hug,
Harry asked if he'd taken any during the ceremony.

He nodded and took another of the couple as Hagrid grabbed them both in one giant arm. “I
jus' knew you two would be together,” he gushed, smiling sloppily. His cheeks were wet with
tears and he wiped them with the sleeve of the arm that wasn't holding the couple. “You're
jus' perfect for one another. Jus' perfect!”

“We think so too, Hagrid,” Hermione told him.

“Welcome to the family,” John said, pulling Harry away from Hagrid in a handshake. “You take
care of my little girl, you hear?”

“I will,” he promised. “Thank you,” he said. John knew Harry was thanking him for far more than
just allowing him to marry his daughter.

“Let's eat!” Ron suggested boisterously. Harry had to admit he was feeling hungry now that
the ceremony was over and had gone so smoothly.

“Good idea,” Hermione agreed.

“You have to cut the cake,” Molly told them. She led the couple to the smaller table. “Now,
first you have to stand on either side of the cake and kiss over it. If you can manage to not knock
it down, it's good luck.”

“We can manage,” Hermione answered. She and Harry got on either side of the cake and kissed.
Another flash went off.

“Cut it, then!” McGonagall told them.

“Oh look, it's a little us!” Hermione exclaimed noticing the bride and groom on the cake.
She sliced a small piece of cake and held it up for Harry to eat, then he did the same for her.
“Smear that on me and I'll hex you into next week,” Hermione warned, brandishing the
spatula.

“Married five minutes and she's hen-pecking me already!” Harry laughed as he gently fed the
cake to his bride.

“Great. Now let us have some cake,” Ron told them.

“You are obsessed with food.” Hermione snapped playfully. “Come here then.” She and Harry
exchanged knowing looks as Ron approached. Hermione had sliced a piece of cake and put it on a
plate for him. “Here you go,” she said.

As Ron reached out to take the plate, Harry and Hermione took the piece together and crammed it
into Ron's mouth which was open to say “Thanks.”

“Not fair!” he cried, laughing and wiping the white icing from his chin and cheeks with a cloth
napkin.

“Someone had to be smeared with cake. It's not a proper wedding otherwise,” Harry joked.
“So, who else wants cake?” No one spoke up. “What? No takers? You people are no fun!”

“Let me slice the cake,” Jane said, taking the spatula from her daughter. “You're a
dangerous team.”

Harry and Hermione began the line along the buffet table and their guests followed suit. They
stood around eating, talking, and drinking the delicious punch. Their guests all wished them well
and most commented that they were the perfect couple. Professors Lupin, McGonagall, and Dumbledore
had all concurred with Hagrid's opinion that they had known Harry and Hermione would wind up
together. “I knew it from the first year,” McGonagall told them. “I've never mispredicted a
couple within my own house yet!”

“I thought you didn't believe in divination,” Ron said, joining the conversation.

“Divination?” McGonagall gasp, insulted. “My dear, tea leaves and star charts have nothing to do
with being able to see the obvious.”

“Well, who do you see for me?” Ron asked.

McGonagall smiled slyly. “No one in Gryffindor. Perhaps you should look into Ravenclaw more
carefully.”

“Luna!” Harry and Hermione said together and Ron's face burned a deep red.

“I do not like Looney Lovegood!” he argued, despite having admitted to Harry that he did fancy
her. He turned his attention to a sandwich.

The small party lasted about an hour. It began to thin when Hermione's grandmother came to
tell them goodbye and wish them well one more time. Since she was tired, Hermione's family
decided it was best for them to return home. She hugged each member of her family and told them she
would see them during the holidays.

“You and Harry can come visit any time,” John told them. He kissed her on the cheek and
whispered, “You're still my baby.”

“You're still my Daddy,” Hermione told him, as tears crept into her eyes. She kissed her
mother on the cheek. Then the Grangers got Dumbledore to send them home after he thanked them for
their help in thwarting Voldemort's plans.

Soon, Mrs. Weasley had magically cleared the food and the Weasleys were saying their goodbyes
too. Harry hugged his new guardians very tightly and thanked them again for taking him. “We love
you like our own,” Molly reminded him. “And you too, Hermione,” she added.

“Bye,” Ginny said, giving them both a kiss on the cheek. “Be happy.”

“Yeah, bye,” Ron added. The newlyweds embraced him.

“We're still The Trio,” Harry said, again reminding Ron that his place in their lives would
not be diminished.

“We're more than that,” Ron said. “We're family.” He left for the burrow with parents
and sister.

“Your parents would be very proud,” Lupin told Harry, taking his hand in a firm shake. “I know
they would have loved you too, Hermione. Harry could not have found a better girl to spend the rest
of his life with.”

“Are you going to bed?” Hermione asked.

“Oh, uh, no,” he replied. “I'll be staying at Hogwarts for a few days to give you two some
privacy. It's Harry's house. And yours, Mrs. Potter.”

“Oh,” she nodded. It was the first time she'd thought about that. “But you're always
welcome, you know that. See you soon,” she said.

McGonagall hugged them both. “I'm very proud of you and Godric Gryffindor would be too.
I'm sure of it.”

“I'll be leaving with them,” Hagrid said. “Congratulations. I'll see you soon.” He
enveloped them both in another crushing hug. “I hope you're both always as happy as you look
right now.” He turned to his companions, “Should we stop by The Three Broomsticks for a while
before going back to the castle?”

There was unanimous agreement and three pops later Harry and Hermione were left alone with
Professor Dumbledore. “We know how to clear a room,” she said.

“Well, I have potions for you both to take before you get to bed,” he said, taking two vials
from a pocket in his robes. He handed a deep blue one to Harry and a deep red one to Hermione.
“Each of you will drink these.”

“Birth control, right?” Harry asked and he drank his.

Hermione looked at her vial, “But I thought...” her voice trailed off as she drank it. It would
be silly to question Dumbledore. He knew what he was doing.

“How often do we take it?” Harry asked.

“Once a month,” he answered. “You won't need any more for a while.”

“Thanks,” Harry said. “Will you be staying tonight?” He desperately hoped that he and Hermione
would be completely alone.

“No. I'm going back to join my staff at the Three Broomsticks, field some questions and
plant some rumors about your upcoming wedding, and then head back to Hogwarts. You will have the
house to yourselves. It's not exactly St. Bart's, but I'm sure you will have a pleasant
honeymoon nonetheless. You will probably want to move into the master bedroom on the first floor,”
he suggested.

They knew from this that he had probably altered it somehow to make it more appealing than the
typical décor of the Black House.

“Should you need anything, just floo my office.” Dumbledore told them. He seemed very much like
a proud grandfather. “Congratulations, Mr. and Ms. Potter.” With a wink he was gone and they were
alone in their house.




AN: As always, thanks for the reviews. Bear with me. I'm sure the next part will be the
hardest to write as I don't want to venture out of PG-13. I've had several e-mails asking
me not to up the rating and I respect the younger readers and don't want to shut them out at
this point. I hope everyone is pleased with the wedding. I wrote in some dancing, but it just
seemed corny, so I cut it out. I've never attended a wedding that involved dancing at the
reception, so I don't think it's all that important anyway. I'll also get to the OWLS
later. They're just not that important right now. Yep, even Hermione has her mind on other
things right now. ;-)



30. PART 30 Husband and Wife
----------------------------

*You know, it's not that easy to write a PG-13 wedding night. LOL I tried very hard to
create something that was tastefully written. Fortunately, I realize I can't and won't make
everyone happy, so here it is, my latest offering. If I do a more detailed chapter it will be in a
full revision of the story with darker elements all around. Thanks for the reviews and
encouragement. It makes struggling through the more challenging chapters worthwhile. I truly
appreciate every comment.*




“So,” Harry said as he led Hermione into the master bedroom.

“Yeah,” she replied.

There was a very strained silence as they surveyed the newly refurbished bedroom. The walls were
a light cream color. The furniture was of dark cherry wood. The large bed in the middle was covered
with a soft comforter in a floral design of violets. The curtains, which were a deep green that
complimented the green in the comforter, were drawn. The room was well-lit and all portraits had
been removed, which Harry was grateful for. The last thing he needed was moving, talking pictures
to make this any more uncomfortable.

“They fixed the place up a bit, didn't they?” Harry commented. He assumed Mrs. Weasley and
the others must have been making improvements over the entire last school year since it looked so
much less like a home of dark wizards now.

“Yeah,” Hermione said.

“Well, it's just you and me and Crookshanks and Hedwig.” Hermione's parents had brought
their pets home today and Molly had locked the cat in the kitchen to keep him from traipsing over
the wedding cake. Hedwig had come back from an early hunt about the time Dumbledore had left. She
had brought in a dead rat which she dropped at his feet. Harry wondered if it was her idea of a
wedding present.

“Yeah,” she answered again.

“You all right?” Harry asked, turning to face her.

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure? Please don't say *yeah*.” Harry led her to the edge of the bed where
they sat down.

“Really, I am. I guess I'm nervous.”

“Me too,” Harry admitted. “Have you ever noticed the surveillance cameras in Muggle stores?”

She nodded.

“I swear, it feels like we're being watched,” he glanced around the room, to all the corners
of the ceiling. “If I didn't know they wouldn't work here, I'd be looking for hidden
cameras in the potted plants.” That was how much pressure he felt he was under from Dumbledore. He
was sure Hermione felt the same pressure.

Hermione laughed. “Then I guess we better put on a good show.”

Harry was speechless at that. He had not expected her to say something like that and now he had
the mental image of the Order of the Phoenix gathered around a TV set eating popcorn while waiting
for them to “follow through on their assignment.”

She giggled at the expression on his face. “Harry, no one is watching us. They all left so we
could be comfortable.” She was feeling more relaxed once she thought about it. It helped to know
Harry was nervous too.

“It's not working,” Harry shook his head. “Don't you feel kind of weird that everyone
who was here tonight knows exactly what's going to happen? I mean, Ron said that I've got
it backward and that I shouldn't be embarrassed. He knows a lot more about being a wizard than
I do. I don't know why I'm so nervous. We've been sleeping in the same bed for weeks,
aside from the last couple of nights, which is the only night I've had nightmares since you
came to get me from the Dursleys. So this--”

“You had nightmares last night?” Hermione interrupted, concerned.

“Not Voldemort type nightmares,” Harry said quickly, lest she be even more worried. “I've
been doing my best to close off my mind to him.”

“Then what?” she took his hand.

“It's stupid,” Harry said, “Just stupid stuff, nothing to worry about.” He told himself his
nightmares were silly.

“Tell me anyway,” she prodded.

“Being in the cupboard and not being able to get out. Vernon,” he said softly. “Stupid really. I
don't have to go back and they didn't even make me stay there after I started Hogwarts.”
So, why was he dreaming about being six years old and trapped in the closed dark space while Vernon
told him what a useless, disgusting, freak of a burden he was.

“It's not stupid, Harry.” She felt her instinct to defend him rise every time he called
himself or his thoughts or fears *stupid*.

“You've married one really messed up in the head person, you know that, don't you?” He
was sure that if a Muggle psychiatrist could get a hold of him, he would be in some padded
cell.

“I love your messed up head,” she smiled sweetly, leaning her head against his shoulder. “I
think I understand,” she told him, considering his dream. Harry had grown up with no physical
affection and now he was being told to hop into bed with her. His years of isolation would
naturally make it harder for him to deal with the physical aspect of their relationship. It was
different for her as she had been smothered with hugs and kisses from her family her whole life and
though there was nothing remotely sexual about that, at least hugs loving touches were not a rarity
in her life.

“Let's dance like we did last night,” she suggested. There was a Wizard's Wireless
Network connector on the dresser, so she turned it on and found some soft romantic music, a feed of
Muggle standards like she remembered hearing as a child when she wandered into her father's
study at home.

Finding this to be an excellent idea, he got to his feet and took her into his arms. “Have I
told you how beautiful you look tonight?”

“Yes, but you can tell me again,” she answered, wrapping her arms around him. She was sure she
would never tire of hearing him say that he thought she was beautiful since that was one thing she
had never thought of herself. She would not even rate herself *cute*, much less
*beautiful*.

They swayed together, Hermione was determined to make the pressures and expectations put on them
disappear from their thoughts. The song echoed her purpose. *Make the world go away. Get it off
of my shoulder.**

Harry inhaled the scent of her hair, which was beginning to fall free since the veil had been
taken off. As his lungs filled with that familiar smell, he relaxed.

She caressed his chin with her thumb and kissed him. *In time the Rockies may crumble,
Gibralter may tumble, they're only made of clay, but our love his here to stay. ***

“I love you, Harry,” she whispered softly in his ear.

“I love you too,” he answered as his hands tangled themselves in her falling hair. He gently
tugged the clips that were holding it up so that it cascaded loosely to her shoulders and slid his
hands up and down her back as they continued to kiss.

Their eyes met. Hermione's were boring into him with an intensity he had never known. “I
want you to touch me,” she told him. All she knew was she wanted to give herself to him in every
way a find a kind of love that neither had ever known. She wanted to hold and caress him and take
away the feelings of isolation he had always harbored. He would never be alone again if she had any
say in the matter. They moved as one to the bed, shedding their inhibitions with their anxieties.
Nothing mattered but each other. The world outside ceased to exist as they became one.

*It's the same old story, a fight for love and glory, a case of do or die. The world will
always welcome lovers, as time goes by.* ***

************************************************************

Hermione snuggled closely to her husband. “That was...” she couldn't find the right words as
it was unlike anything she had previously experienced.

“Yeah,” said Harry, breathlessly, telling himself that he could not believe he had been
apprehensive about taking this step. He was reminded of how he felt after his first Quidditch
match, only this was a higher high. *Hermione would not be happy to know I was thinking of
Quidditch at this moment.*

“What are you smiling about?” Hermione asked, propping on one elbow.

“The same thing you're smiling about,” he answered, raising up to kiss her.

Hermione doubted Harry was smiling about the same thing as she had just remembered Ginny's
comment about getting a wizard as powerful as Harry into bed. No, he did not need to know that
since he would never again be able to look at his “little sister” if he knew she had thought such
things about him. Fortunately for both Ginny and Harry (and probably Mr. and Mrs. Weasley), Rita
Skeeter had left that comment out of her article.

“Harry,” Hermione said a few minutes later, “Let's do it again.”

“That's why you're the brains of the organization,” Harry laughed.

After they had sealed their marriage vows once more, Hermione rested her head on Harry's
shoulder, lying in the crook of his arm, while tracing her fingers over his chest as he played with
her hair. “You seem to like my hair,” she said absently.

“I love your hair,” he told her.

“I've always hated it, but never cared enough to spend an hour a day to manage it.”

“I gave up on mine years ago,” Harry laughed. “Even Aunt Petunia gave up.” With the mention of
his aunt's name, Harry suddenly felt a coldness trickling through him. Thinking of Aunt Petunia
inevitably led to thinking of Uncle Vernon. An image of being spanked with a hairbrush flitted
through his mind as he told whoever (and he was not sure who it was) that he could not help his
hair. He had really tried, but it wouldn't lay flat.

Hermione sensed the change in Harry's mood that came with saying his aunt's name.
“What's wrong?”

“Nothing,” he answered, forcing himself to focus on the present. It would only serve to weaken
him if he kept letting things that had happened ten years or so prior get to him. He had not had
this much trouble before and wondered why he kept having these thoughts and feelings associated
with the Dursleys. He turned from staring at the ceiling to face his wife. “Thank you.”

“For what?” she asked.

“Everything. It's because of you that I don't have to go back to the Dursleys. It's
because of you that Voldemort can't use me in whatever blood ritual he has planned. You keep
saving my life.”

“Harry,” she answered. “I--” she did not know what to say. He had opened up to her so much the
past few weeks. It was a side to Harry she had hoped he would let her see; but, at best, she
thought it would be a very slow process of getting him to open up to her. She felt blessed that he
had been so forthcoming about his thoughts and feelings.

“It's true,” he continued. “Dumbledore and the Order, they expect me to save the world, but
it all goes back to you. If it wasn't for your knowledge and sacrifice and love, I couldn't
do any of it. It's always been you, something you taught me, that got me where I needed to be
and safely back.”

“It's not a sacrifice on my part,” she told him. “I want to be with you every step and I
want to be married to you right now. I don't care that I'm fifteen and you're sixteen
and a week, this is right. Hell, I might even send Voldemort a thank you card for spurring us into
doing this and sign it Mrs. Harry Potter.”

“You're amazing,” Harry told her, a big grin spreading across his face. “Absolutely
amazing.”

“Mmmm,” she cooed. “I think I'll leave that description for you.”




**Make the World Go Away* by Eddy Arnold

***Our Love is Here to Stay* by George Gershwin

****As Time Goes By* by Herman Humpfield (Casablanca)





















31. PART 31 Recalling the Order
-------------------------------

Mr. and Mrs. Potter had thoroughly enjoyed having the house to themselves the past 36 hours.
They had ventured into the kitchen to have a late breakfast. Mrs. Weasley had kindly left them a
supply of food.

“I feel so domestic,” Hermione said as she attempted to scramble some eggs with a spell. She was
wearing a short silky navy blue robe that covered just enough that she could be considered
*decent.*

“I don't see you as the domestic type,” Harry told her, as he approached her from behind and
wrapped his arms around her so he could nibble at her ear.

“Well, I better learn,” she giggled as his breath tickled her. She leaned back into him and
arched her neck to give him easier access. They had discovered that her neck was very sensitive and
Harry could just touch her in certain ways and drive her wild.

“If you don't stop that,” she warned teasingly, “I'll never learn to cook and our seven
kids will starve.”

“Up to seven are we?” Harry asked, giving a little nip that made her shudder and drop the eggs
and frying pan onto the floor.

“Eight if you keep this up,” she turned around to face him so she could ravage him with
kisses.

They were leaned against the sink and Harry had just reached under her robe when they heard a
crack! And a chair by the table toppled over while Nymphadora Tonks appeared, clutching her leg,
and hopping about.

“I'm sorry I'm late. I thought it was tomorrow, but then I realized it was today and— ”
She stopped midsentence, her mouth gaping open at the barely clothed couple.

She darted her eyes to the floor and to the half-scrambled eggs. Both Potters were adjusting the
tie belts of their matching house robes.

“I—“ she started, her face turning crimson. “Sorry. Didn't mean to,” she stammered,
completely aware of what she'd interrupted.

“It's all right,” Hermione said, gaining her composure. “We, um, well...”

“Yeah, good thing you got here when you did,” Harry smiled. “Five more minutes and it would have
been embarrassing.” He hoped to lighten the mood as they were all rather embarrassed already.

Hermione slapped his arm. “You do know about the wedding, right?”

Tonks looked up. “Well, I saw the article in the *Prophet*. But I haven't seen anyone
in the Order recently. I've been on duty. So, it's true then?”

“Er, well, for the most part,” Harry answered. He felt a surge of hope. If Tonks doubted it,
maybe other magic folk would and then he fewer people would think of him as the poor abused tragic
hero.

“We're not getting married in October,” Hermione offered. “The rest is true.”

“You're not?” Tonks asked.

“No. We got married two nights ago.”

“Yep,” Harry said, pointing to his wedding band.

“She can't see them,” Hermione told him.

“She can't?”

“Well, it wouldn't do for us to be seen wearing them while 'planning' our wedding,
would it? Dumbledore put a charm on them.”

“Right,” Harry replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“I can see this!” Tonks squealed, taking Hermione's left hand. “That is gorgeous! You have
great taste!”

“Harry has great taste. He picked it out,” she beamed.

“So, you two are married then?” Tonks said, taking in the information. “That's great.
Congratulations!” she offered heartily.

“You're here for a meeting?” Harry asked.

She nodded.

“Maybe this is what it's about. Dumbledore has a plan, you know. This is part of the grand
scheme.”

“Listen, we'll go get dressed and be back down soon,” Hermione said. She cleaned the spilled
eggs with a “scourgify.”

They were interrupted as Hedwig flew into the kitchen with two envelopes. They were from
Hogwarts and addressed to Harry Potter and Hermione Granger. Hermione noted that they were not
using her proper name and it disappointed her a bit. She would very much like to get something
official and addressed to Hermione Potter.

Harry patted Hedwig affectionately before taking the letters. He then gave her some grapes off
the counter which pleased her very much.

Hermione opened he letter and squealed. “It's our Hogwarts letters, book lists, and
O.W.L.s!”

“I can' t look,” Harry said, giving the letter to his wife. “I know you got all
O's.”

Hermione smiled broadly as she read her results. It was no surprise that she did in fact get
O's in all her classes. “Yeah, I did!” she said, trying to sound modest.

“That's great!” Harry replied. “I knew you would. Everyone knew you would. You're the
smartest witch to ever pass through the hallowed halls of Hogwarts!” He gave her a hug of
congratulations.

She then opened his letter and looked for his results. “Oh my god! You got an O in Potions!” she
exclaimed.

“What!” Harry gasp. He knew he had to get high marks in Potions to be an auror, but never
expected to actually get an O. He wondered if McGonagall had tweaked his grade at all.

Hermione continued. “You got O's in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Care of Magical
Creatures, and Transfiguration. You got an E in Astronomy, and an A in Divination and History of
Magic.”

“Thank goodness!” Harry sighed. “I thought I'd get D's in both of those. Or worse,
T's if they really give T's.”

Tonks praised them both for their grades and it reminded Harry that they were going to go get
dressed. “We'll be back down in a few minutes,” he said.

“Oh, don't bother. I think I was right the first time because if it was really today then I
would have been late and no one else is here so I must be a day early. I'll just be going.

“Right,” Harry said. “We'll see you tomorrow then. Remember, don't tell anyone that
we're married.”

“Of course I won't.

The next time they saw Tonks she was stumbling into the kitchen again, this time massaging her
elbow. She did, however, arrive just before the meeting of the Order was to start.

“Why are they here?” asked Mad Eye Moody, one eye on Dumbledore and the magic eye looking at
Harry, Hermione and Ron at the end of the table. The split directions gave his face an even more
disturbing appearance. “They're not old enough to be in the Order.”

“I am afraid that age is immaterial at this point, Alastor,” Dumbledore answered. “We all know
of Harry's importance.”

There was a general nod of agreement around the table.

“As his wife, Mrs. Potter also plays a key role in our cause. She, like Harry, will be a major
target by Voldemort and his followers. She is to have the same level of protection as Harry. We are
setting a trap, baiting Voldemort, if you wish to call it that. And, Mr. Weasley's presence
saves the Potters the time it would take to tell him everything we've discussed when the
meeting is over.” Dumbledore's eyes had a hint of their familiar twinkle as he surveyed
Ron.

Ron's ears turned pink as all eyes fell upon him.

The truth was Harry and Hermione had approached both Mrs. Weasley and Dumbledore and asked them
to allow Ron to attend. “I don't want him to feel excluded. He's already feeling a bit like
a third wheel.” Harry told them.

“Not that sparing his feelings justifies letting him in on anything so dangerous and important,”
Hermione clarified.

“But Hermione and I will tell him everything anyway. And he's gone hand to hand with Death
Eaters already. Ron can hold his own and you know he's too stubborn to hide if we're all in
battle. He's a skilled wizard. I would never want to put him in danger.”

“But lack of knowledge can be a danger too,” Hermione added, thinking of Harry and Sirius. Maybe
if Harry had known everything, he would not have been so easily tricked by Voldemort. “Knowledge is
protection in itself.”

At this point Dumbledore had raised a hand to silence them and turned to Mrs. Weasley. “It's
up to you and Arthur.”

After thinking it over, she had agreed. She knew it was useless to try to keep Ron in the dark
and she appreciated that Harry and Hermione did not want him to feel excluded.

Dumbledore explained the set up to the Order, along the way answering the unasked question many
of them had about his referring to Hermione as Mrs. Potter.

“Professor, what exactly has happened with the Death Eaters that were caught?” Harry asked. It
was question he had wanted to ask for days, but they had been so busy with the wedding he had not
gotten the chance to discuss things.

“They are still in Azkaban at the moment. We are not sure how long they will remain as the
Dementors are not being controlled by the Ministry. We think they may be biding their time until
they are called, putting up a benign front.”

Harry nodded. He had not expected the arrested Death Eaters to be completely out of the way.
Mrs. Weasley shivered, knowing they were inviting such danger for Harry, for all of them.

“So, what is our next step?” asked Lupin.



“We keep our eyes and ears open for any word, any changes.”



“Constant vigilance!” Mad Eye added gruffly.



“And we continue to gather supporters of our own. The tide has turned in our favor since the
Death Eaters were exposed and Voldemort's return is now generally accepted. Many of us are out
in the field now recruiting more for our cause.”



Harry felt hopeful at this. The Order of the Phoenix was growing daily and the numbers for the
Death Eaters were, hopefully, *not* since so many of their kind were locked away.



“Harry," Dumbledore turned to the young man. "You and Hermione have a special
relationship with the house elves at Hogwarts. Even though most of them do not wish to be free, it
is not lost upon them how kindly you have treated Dobby and Winky. You're too young to know how
poorly house elves were treated prior to Voldemort's first demise. Like Dobby, most of them
somewhat revere you. Also, you should know house elves, meek and unnoticable as they are, are very
well connected to one another throughout our world.”



Harry nodded, wondering where this was leading.



"I would like you and Hermione to go to the elves and ask them to back you and those who
are working with you, but do not call the Order by name. House elves are very powerful beings that
can achieve things even wizards can not.”



"Like apparating in and out of Hogwarts," Hermione filled in.



"Yes. Their kind will be valuable to our fight. I want you to be an envoy to them the way
Hagrid and Madame Maxime were with the Giants."



"I hope you'll have more success than we did," Hagrid commented.



"I'm sure house elves are more reasonable than Giants, though, Hagrid. You had a tough
crowd to reach. The house elves live in fear or wizards. We have to insure them that if we are
successful they will not have to fear us, perhaps Hermione can even convince them to accept
freedom, eventually. I don't think we should overwhelm them with promises of a brighter future
all at once."



"Change seems to frighten them, even if it would be for the better," Hermione added,
remembering her frustration with trying to get them to see that freedom was a good thing.



"You're very right about that." Dumbledore agreed. He turned to Hagrid, "I
want you to continue your work with the magical creatures in the forest. If you should need any
assistance, don't hesitate to ask. Your contacts should be alerted to be ready to come when
called.”



The half-giant nodded with understanding.

All in all, it was a subdued meeting as the subject was so imminent and intense. They knew they
were coming closer to the thing for which they had been preparing. The one positive was that they
were doing something to put it on their own terms and time frame rather than Voldemort's.

Harry felt his stomach giving a lurch. Dumbledore was speaking with such determination. He could
tell the final battle really was looming. His eyes traveled around the table. All of these people
were united in one goal of destroying evil. Mrs. Weasley was the closest thing he had to a mother.
Ron was like his brother. Lupin was the only connection to his parents he had left. He stole a
glance at his wife, promising himself that he would protect her and grow old with her. She alone
was enough of a reason for him to do everything he could to destroy Voldemort. Yet, all those
people were depending on him too. He had no other option. He would kill Voldemort. And he would do
it very soon.






32. PART 32 Conversations
-------------------------

*Again, thanks to everyone for taking time to review this. I'm sorry I haven't been
updating as frequently as I did at first. I have been completely swamped at work! I don't think
my boss would agree that writing fan fiction is a good excuse to shirk my duties.*

“Could I speak with you for a moment?” Harry asked Dumbledore, pulling him to the side as the
majority of the Order filed out of the room.

“Of course,” the aged wizard answered, seemingly surprised that Harry wanted a private word with
him.

Harry told Hermione and Ron that he would meet them in the living room in a few minutes and
Dumbledore suggested that he and Harry go to the room he used for an office.

“Professor,” Harry began, sitting across the desk from his headmaster. “I wanted to explain to
you about the other day, how I reacted to the rings.” It had bothered Harry that he may have hurt
Dumbledore's feelings or seemed ungrateful.

Dumbledore waved his hand, “No explanation is necessary,” but his voice held little
conviction.

“I think it is,” Harry replied. “I was taken aback when I saw them. All I could think of was my
parents being dead, that they were wearing those rings when they were murdered protecting me. I do
appreciate that you saved them for me. I really do. I was just overwhelmed when I saw them and it
wasn't with warm fuzzy feelings.”

“I think I understand, Harry.” Dumbledore replied, kindly. “I had wanted those rings to remind
you of the love your parents had for one another. But rings can't remind you of something you
were too young to remember.” He paused a moment to let Harry consider what he had just said. “You
see, Harry, the way you look at Hermione reminds me so much of the way Lily looked at James. You do
have her eyes and just like her, you light up when you see the person you love most in the world.
You also have her protective streak. Yes, people tell you how you look like your father all the
time, but you act very much like your mother. She had a very strong sense of character and right
and wrong.”

Harry remembered that his mother had defended Snape to his father. He wondered if he had looked
more like Lily if Snape would have not hated him on sight.

“But I digress,” he sighed, realizing he had not intended to go down memory lane. “What I failed
to consider is that those rings have no meaning to you. You weren't there when you're
parents exchanged their vows and you weren't with them long enough to watch them with each
other.”

“But they do have meaning,” Harry interjected. “Everything about my parents has meaning to me,
more than you can imagine. I think sometimes I see the negative before the positive though.”

“Understandable,” Dumbledore nodded. “I think you were wise to get your own rings, Harry. You
and Hermione are not Lily and James and if you had any trepidation about taking and using their
rings, you should not have used them.”

“But it was still thoughtful of you to save them for me. I am going to use them. I have
something else in mind.” Harry shared. “Anyway, the thing is, now that I'm not completely out
of my mind with so many things going on, I wanted to tell you thank you.”

“You're very welcome.” Dumbledore answered. “Now, may I ask, how is marriage suiting
you?”

Harry couldn't repress the grin that came across his face. He couldn't find the right
word. If he said it suited him well, he was afraid he would sound cheeky.

Dumbledore laughed quietly, shaking his head. Harry's eyes were lighting up again in a way
that was so rare. Dumbledore's heart soared with happiness, just by seeing Harry happy. He
wished he could ensure that that happiness would be long-lasting. “Before you go, Harry, I wanted
to tell you, I'm going to be dropping in more regularly. I will be training you personally. Do
you remember what you did to this office when your uncle was here?”

Harry nodded. He pushed down the feeling of panic that was rising in his chest. Perplexed that
once more the mention of his uncle was plaguing him this way. He had endured years of mistreatment
but compared to Voldemort, Vernon was a kitten.

“Your emotions feed your power, Harry. I'm reminded of the incident with your Aunt Marge,
for instance. I need to help you focus the power within you.”

Harry's first thought was, oddly, of Bellatrix Lestrange. She had told him that you had to
mean it when you performed an unforgivable curse. He remembered the moment Voldemort had possessed
him and that his freedom came with his emotional thoughts of Sirius. “I think I know what you
mean,” he told Dumbledore.

“Yes, I think you do.” Dumbledore told him. “I'll be back. We will work diligently until the
beginning of the semester. You have a lot to learn and a short time to learn it. I was also
supervise continued occlumency lessons.”

“Will you be working with Hermione too?” he inquired. “She won't take lightly to being left
out.”

“Yes, I will work with both of you, though you and I will have to do some things alone. Harry,
it's time you began to reach your potential, and while Hermione is quite a capable witch, she
does not have the base power you do.”

Harry's confusion was clear on his face. How could Hermione not be just as powerful, even
more so than he was? She was top of their class. She had helped him learn just about everything he
knew.

“Harry, I mean no disrespect to your wife, but much of her ability is learned. She is clever,
indeed. A perfectionist, determined, resourceful, and skilled in her own right. She has proven
herself against evil, applying her knowledge. But this is natural for you. Just as you are a
natural flier, you're a naturally powerful wizard. It's more basic, in your very soul.”

Harry absorbed what Dumbledore was telling him, the comparison made between himself and
Hermione.

“It's your natural born instinct and ability that has helped you so often. Your magic is
reflexive, but somewhat unfocused. I'm going to train you in control. Control is more important
than you can learn at this point. It is necessary for you be able to manage and focus your
power.”

He nodded. “I'll tell Hermione we can expect to see you a lot before school.”

“Very well then, I'll let you get back to your wife and Mr. Weasley. I'm sure
they're curious about what is going on. And, Harry, I know how loyal you are to your friend
Ronald, but I must ask you to not include him in this training. I fear he may be a distraction.
When you get back to school, I'm sure you would like to restart the D.A., although, we will be
having a much better Defense Against the Dark Arts professor this year. Perhaps your group can
collaborate with the professor.”

“You don't mind about the D.A.?” Harry had considered different possibilities of what the
Headmaster's reaction would be to that particular group. He did step down from his post over
it. Yet, he had covered for them by leaving, so Dumbledore must have seen it as worthwhile.

“Of course not. Defense is the most valuable asset the students have. I'm honored that your
group named yourselves what you did.” His eyes were sparkling.

“You've found a new professor? Who is it?”

“You'll see,” was the only answer given.

Harry knew there was no point in questioning further. He agreed to meet Dumbledore at 10:00 the
next morning and went to find Ron and Hermione.

********************

“You arranged that, didn't you?” Ron asked. Harry had joined him and Hermione. Ron was
sitting in chair next to the sofa where Harry and Hermione curled up together.

“What?” Harry asked.

“You talked Dumbledore into letting me join the Order.”

“You're mother was the harder sell,” Hermione laughed. “But once we explained it...”

“It pretty much amounted to what Dumbledore said. It saves us the trouble of telling you
everything anyway,” he laughed.

“Whatever the reasons, it's pretty cool,” Ron said. He did not tell them how much he
appreciated being made a part of things. The past few days had been hard for him, but filled with
revelations. He had had a long conversation with his sister about Harry, Hermione, and their
prospective crushes. Talking it over with Ginny, he had considered the way Hermione had reacted to
him over the years. She did not take his side when he was angry with Harry in fourth year. She
showed little enthusiasm about his making the Quidditch team. She had an uncanny ability to not
even recognize his presence when Harry was around. She had never even worn the perfume he gave her
for Christmas the previous year. Ginny had told him not to take it personally because many girls
did not like perfume, but that only made him think that if he had known Hermione better, he never
would have gotten her such a frivolous gift. What had he been thinking? She was far too
conscientious to pollute the air around her with chemical toxins.

He had also considered himself. What was it about Hermione that attracted him? The fact that
they argued all the time? He wondered if he and Hermione would even put up with one another if not
for Harry. He had even taken a hard look to see if it was merely wanting something Harry did not
have that had made him fancy Hermione.

Ginny had admitted that even though she could speak in front of Harry and even though she liked
Dean Thomas, she had always harbored the hope that Harry would fall for her eventually. She
supposed he would always be her first love, even if he had not reciprocated it. Maybe if he had
been a total git like Michael Corner instead a sweet, courteous boy who saved her life, she would
have gotten over him completely. But that was not Harry. Once he put a stamp on her heart, it was
there forever.

“We weren't going to leave you out,” Harry told him. “If there's one thing we learned...
last year...” he did not refer to the incident of Sirius's death specifically, “It was that
knowledge is power. Keeping one or more of us in the dark can not lead to any good. Age has nothing
to do with it. Voldemort would not think twice of harming us because we're young. He tried to
kill me when I was one. The three of us have worked against him since we were eleven. No, he
doesn't care if we're 'of age.' He wants us dead. This time we're not going to
sit by unprepared waiting for him to strike.”

Harry had gone off on a bit of a tangent, leaving Ron and Hermione to exchanged concerned and
accepting looks with one another. Things were different now.

“It won't be long until he's gone and we can breathe peacefully,” Hermione said,
silently adding that Harry would fulfill the prophecy and come out the victor. She would not push
him to tell Ron or anyone else about the conditions, yet it seemed as if everyone almost knew that
Harry was the key to Voldemort's defeat, even if they did not know why. Perhaps some of them
thought it went back to his being the Boy-Who-Lived. Maybe they thought he had some strange power.
He had to have *something* to have survived so many encounters with the Dark Lord.

“That's right,” Ron agreed. “I bet that by Christmas, this will all be over.”

“Yes. And after all this is over, maybe you can ask Luna to attend the Halloween Ball with
you.”

“What Halloween Ball?” Ron asked.

“If Voldemort thinks we're getting married on October 1, he'll strike then or before. If
we survive, we'll still be celebrating when Halloween rolls around,” Harry said with a hopeful
smile.

“Speaking of, how is married life?” Ron asked.

Harry felt that same cheeky grin spreading across his face.

“Never mind,” Ron laughed. “I don't think I want to know. I'm just glad to see you both
happy for a change. And when You-Know-Who is gone, we'll all be happier than we've ever
been before.”






33. Part 33 Back to Hogwarts
----------------------------

A/N: I am really sorry it has taken me so long to update. Aside from being swamped at work, I
had an accident and pinched my siatic (?) nerve, so I was immobile for days, which only made my
backlog at work even worse! I've had practically no time to write for weeks. :(

Harry shut the door after he walked into Dumbledore's Gimmauld office. The old man looked up
and told him very coldly, “You are a freak. You're a worthless half-breed failure. It's
your fault your parents are dead, that Cedric Diggory is dead, and that Sirius Black is dead.”

Harry felt as if his blood was turning to ice within his veins. As often as he was verbally
attacked, it was different when it came from Dumbledore. Those words from his mouth made them true.
Harry reached out to the nearby chair to steady himself. He was not sure he was still
breathing.

Dumbledore got to his feet with ease unexpected for one so aged then approached his student.

Harry had a fleeting thought that the wizard was probably going to destroy him, just as he
deserved.

“No, Harry,” Dumbledore said, reaching out to him. “You must not listen when someone says these
things to you. You have to be able to ignore it.”

Harry looked up at his mentor and felt as if he were being pulled from a swirling whirlpool.
“Why? Why did you?” he asked, taking the chair.

“I”m sorry, Harry. I needed for you to see what your true reaction to those accusations is. I
couldn't very well warn you and get a real response.”

Harry nodded, but was still pale.

“You do know I did not mean a word of that?” he asked apologetically.

He nodded again.

“Where you have to get is to the point where it doesn't matter even if I did mean them. If
your uncle calls you a freak, he means it. If Draco Malfoy calls Hermione a mudblood, he means it.
If Voldemort tells you that you're responsible for Sirius's death, it does not matter if he
believes it as long as you do not. You have to know the truth about yourself so you won't react
to the goading of others. You can not let self-doubt and self-blame strengthen others by weakening
you.”

Harry began to see where this was going. Voldemort was a master of manipulation and would use
anything he could.

Dumbledore continued. “And, you have to become immune to things like 'Your wife is a
mudblood.' 'The Weasleys are disgraceful wizarding trash.' 'Your father was an
arrogant dolt.' You have to learn to control your reactions and focus your energies. One of the
things that makes you great is your allegiance to those you love, but you have to learn when the
best way to handle a situation is to not react.”

Harry knew this was something he should have learned by now. Backfiring spells while dueling
with Draco; getting banned from Quidditch; countless detentions with Umbridge. His emotions has led
him right into traps too often and at too high a price. He could hear Hermione's voice saying
“Ignore them. Ignore them.” It was advice he had heard often and usually failed to follow. “And how
do I gain control of my reactions?”

“You have to reach a balance. Your instinct has undoubtedly served you well. But you have to
separate emotional vs. the mortal threat. Evaluate the situation. If someone insults you, don't
react. If someone places blame on you, remind yourself that you've done the best you can. Tell
yourself that often so it becomes your instinct.”

“In other words, you're telling me to think,” Harry deciphered. “Hermione would agree with
that,” he smiled. She had been trying to get him to behave less impulsively as long as he had known
her.

He thought that getting his impulses under control might come easier now that Sirius had died.
He had learned the hard way what lengths Voldemort would go to to trap him. He did have a new
perspective. Did Draco Malfoy's prejudice or Snape's arrogance really matter? No. What
mattered was fulfilling the prophecy and living through it.

“When do we start the training?” Harry asked.

“You just did.” Dumbledore replied. “There's more to come, my boy, but self-control may be
the most important thing you can learn.”

*******




Less than a month later, Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Mrs. Weasley, Tonks, Lupin, Mad Eye and
Kingsley were making their way somewhat conspicuously through King's Cross to Platform 9 ¾ . It
was an unusual sight: four teens with trunks, two owls, three red-heads, a woman with long green
hair, a large black man, a suspicious looking man in an overcoat and large hat, and one cat. It was
a considerable feat that Remus, the werewolf, in his tattered T-shirt and well worn Levis stood out
least in the crowd.

They actually arrived well before 11:00 this year. Everyone passed onto the platform as quickly
and discretely as possible. Given that the Muggles were in such a hurry, most were unaware of
anything magical going on around them.

Harry was happy to see that they would be among the first students on the train this year. It
meant they could easily find an empty compartment, close the door, and maybe not come in contact
with too many students who might bombard him and Hermione about their engagement.

This year, after settling in, it was Ron and Ginny who would leave to find the prefects meeting.
Hermione had given up her position. Dumbledore felt it would appease the board to an extent and she
herself wanted to devote more time to Harry and their marriage. She would tell anyone who asked
that she did not have time to be a prefect anymore. She did wonder who was going to take her
place.

Ginny had been thrilled to find out that she was a 5th year prefect and did not even
mind that Fred and George had been calling her Ronette for the last week. Ron was happy that
someone else was taking the heat this year.

The kids were most surprised when both Tonks and Lupin followed them onto the train.

Harry caught on immediately. “You're back!” he exclaimed.

“What about my back?” Remus asked with a Marauder's grin.

“You're back as DADA professor? Why didn't you tell us?” Harry asked, thrilled at the
prospect of having Professor Lupin back at Hogwarts.

“We were waiting on approval of the second appointment. Tonks will be co-teaching with me,
filling in with I have to be out.”

“That's awesome!” Hermione cried. “Thank God the ministry didn't appoint some sadistic
hag like last year. Maybe we can actually learn something this year,” she added appreciatively as
the group piled into a compartment. They all arranged their things and then the Weasley siblings
left for their meeting.

Before long, their compartment door slid open. Harry's stomach did a flip flop. He would not
let Malfoy prove him. As it turned out, his resolve was only good practice because Neville
Longbottom asked if he could join them.

“Of course, come on in,” Hermione said cheerfully. “How was your summer?”

“It was all right,” Neville answered. He glanced at Professor Lupin and Tonks whom he
recognized, even with the green hair, from their trip into the Department of Mysteries. “How about
you guys? You're okay, Harry?”

Harry stopped himself from rolling his eyes. Neville was his friend and only asked out of
concern. “Yes, I'm fine now,” he answered politely. Dumbledore would be proud that he was
actually applying some of the skills they had practiced for weeks in a real situation. “Professor
Lupin is back as DADA professor, he added hoping to change the subject. “Professor Tonks will be
working with DADA too.”

“That's great!” Neville replied. “You're the only good DADA professor we've
had.”

“Thank you, Mr. Longbottom,” Lupin replied. “Tonks will be a great addition to Hogwarts
too.”

Neville's eyes strayed to Hermione's left hand. He looked very much like he wanted to
say something, but he did not.

“It's okay, Neville,” Hermione told him. “Yes, the article was true. We are engaged” she
smiled at Harry. This charade was going well so far. “Only the old bat didn't have an exclusive
interview. She eavesdropped on me and Ginny while we were shopping and stalked Harry and Ron while
they were shopping.”

“Oh,” Neville replied as if he were not sure how to react. “I'm happy for you. I knew Harry
was crazy about you when we were at the Ministry.”

“You did?” Hermione asked leadingly. Her grin broadened. “Just how did you know that?”

Neville did not get a chance to reply before the train started speeding along with a jolt.
“Where are Ron and Ginny?” was the next thing he said, having gotten Harry's nonverbal message
to change the subject.

“They've gone to the prefects meeting,” Harry answered draping his arm over his wife's
shoulders.

“Why aren't you with them, Hermione?”

“Oh, well, because I won't have time to be a prefect and Mrs. Harry Potter,” she
shrugged.

“What makes you think you'll be so busy being Mrs. Harry Potter?” Harry asked
flirtatiously.

Hermione's face began to turn red. “Dunno. Just a feeling.” She suddenly closed her eyes and
slapped her hand over her mouth. “I'm going to be sick,” she mumbled.

“I should be insulted,” Harry replied before realizing she was not joking with him. He quickly
conjured a waste bin, just in time for Hermione to put it to good use. He kneeled down beside her,
rubbing her back, as she wretched into the receptacle.

When she finished, he held her closely, continuing to rub her back, “What's the matter?” he
asked, flicking the bin away with his wand.

She kept her eyes closed as she leaned into him. “Motion sickness,” she answered. “I felt funny
ever since the train started.”

“You usually don't get sick from the train,” Harry said.

“You didn't eat a thing this morning,” Tonks reminded her. “I bet your sick from not eating
breakfast.”

“Yeah,” Hermione agreed weakly. “I probably should get something when the witch comes by with
the snack cart.”

The rest of their trip was uneventful. Ron and Ginny returned from the meeting along with Luna
who had been made a Ravenclaw prefect. She made doe eyes at Ron as their journey continued and Ron
insisted on buying her a chocolate frog. Harry and Hermione both grinned at this and Ginny laughed
in a cruelly little sister sort of way. Malfoy and his goons never showed up to harass them, which
was odd, but happily accepted. Maybe he didn't want to bother them when they were with two
professors. Or maybe he remembered how much hexing this group could do and did not want to press
his luck. Whatever the case, they were happy to not see him at all.

They arrived at Hogwarts, were some of the first students out of the train and into the
carriages, and made their way to the Great Hall for the welcoming feast. With the exception of
Luna, perhaps, they were all aware that the other students were watching them closely as they
passed, but no one approached them. None of the group were sure if they were being greeted with
fear, respect, or curiosity. Things had changed and no one had had time to adjust to those changes
before the end of term. Voldemort was back and no one could deny it. Many of his Death Eaters,
parents of students here, had been imprisoned. Harry was once again revered in the wizard world. It
was obvious from the way people looked at them and the way most eyes darted directly to
Hermione's ring that everyone was aware of the upcoming wedding. Yes, it looked as if things
were going to be different at Hogwarts this year, but none of them would venture a prediction of
just how different it was going to be.

































34. Part 35 Cuddles in the Common Room
--------------------------------------

*A/N: Some have expressed wanting to see some of the training, but if I go through the
training, there won't be any surprises to come. LOL The most important thing to see at the
moment is the change in Harry's self-control. For the record, Snape did not make any mistakes
in his potion. Also, thanks to those who've wished me well.*

Harry found it very difficult to sleep that night. His return to the dorm had gone better than
last year's since his sanity was not being questioned, but Dean and Seamus has both had a lot
of questions about the *Prophet* article. Harry had taken a deep breath, and answered them.
Yes, his uncle had tried to kill him. Yes, he and Hermione were getting married.

“I thought you liked Cho Chang!” Dean had argued.

“I did,” Harry replied honestly. “But that was over before it started.”

“She was always jealous of Hermione,” Ron added with a laugh. “And cried all the time.”

“Don't knock her, Ron. She was right about Hermione and she had a lot to cry about.” Harry
said. As much as Cedric's death had affected him, it had to be even worse for her.

Ron rolled his eyes, “Like bringing that snitch into the DA.”

Harry had no response for that.

“And I thought Ron liked Hermione,” Seamus added tactlessly.

“Anyway,” Ron replied more loudly than necessary, “Harry and Hermione were practically fated to
be together. Anyone who can't see that is an idiot.” He turned his back to the other guys while
he straightened things in his trunk.

“Where are you guys going to be after you get married?” Neville asked.

“Dumbledore's arranged a room for us,” Harry said. “We'll be here in Gryffindor.”

“You get special treatment,” Seamus observed.

“Tell ya what, Seamus, you take on You Know Who five times and live to talk about it and maybe
you'll get some special treatment too.” Ron snapped, already ill with the boy for bringing up
how he felt about Hermione.

“It's okay, Ron,” Harry replied. “Seamus has a point. But, he should realize that it's
not unheard of for married students to attend Hogwarts. It hasn't happened for a very long
time, but the precedent has already been set, and there is nothing in the rules against it.
Hermione and I are being allowed to take advantage of that. Any other student could have done the
same thing.”

“You're awful young to get married,” Dean whistled, shaking his head in disbelief.

Harry shrugged. “You do what you've got to do. I'm lucky I've found Hermione early
in life. We would have gotten married as soon as we graduated anyway,” he reiterated the
*Prophet* article, even though the thought marriage so early in life had not been seriously
consiered.

“I think it's weird. You guys weren't even a couple when we left for the summer,” Seamus
commented.

“Are you blind?” Ron bellowed, slamming his trunk shut.

“Let's just go to bed,” Harry suggested, hoping to ward off a blow up between his roommates.
He appreciated Ron's loyalty, but also realized Seamus's opinion mattered little in the
scheme of things.

“Well, are we invited to the wedding?” Dean asked before any of them had had a chance to doze
off.

“Haven't thought about it,” Harry replied honestly. “It's up to Hermione how big the
ceremony will be.” It was actually up to Dumbledore. He knew that if Voldemort had not been
defeated prior to October 1, the school would likely be evacuated in preparation. All they could
count on was that Voldemort would do something to stop the nuptials which would cost him his chance
at immortality. Whether it was on a grand scale or not was yet to be seen.

Harry realized he only had a month, maybe less, to get ready and focus everything Dumbledore had
taught him. When he was certain the others were all asleep, he took his wand and eased out of the
room.

When he got to the common room, he found Hermione doing just as he had planned to do, practicing
spells.

“Hey, Mrs. Potter,” he called softly.

Hermione turned around, smiling, and met him with a hug and kiss. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” he told her. “It doesn't feel right without you beside me.”

“It's going to be a long month,” she sighed. They sat on the couch together. “Did you come
down to practice too?”

“Yeah. We don't have much time.”

“Well, we can practice on each other.”

“No we can't,” Harry argued. “You can disarm and curse me, but you know Dumbledore
doesn't want me doing any of that to you.”

“Which is stupid,” Hermione replied grumpily. Admittedly, she knew she'd gotten off easy
since Harry always practiced what he could do with another person with Dumbledore, but she was a
little insulted that Dumbledore didn't think she was strong enough to handle what he was
teaching her to perform. “You don't think any of the Death Eaters are going to take it easy on
me because I'm a woman, do you?” Alice Longbottom was evidence enough that they did not have
mercy on women.

“No, of course not,” Harry replied. “But there's no sense in risking hurting you now.
Dumbledore is a gentleman. And I don't want to see my wife hurt either.” Harry hoped that it
would come down to a single face off between himself and Voldemort and that Hermione would be left
out of it.

“I want to know what he meant by me having a protection that you don't?”

Harry shrugged. “Sometimes he speaks in riddles, but he always knows what he's talking
about.” He kissed her forehead. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I'm fine now. It's like Tonks said, I didn't eat this morning. I was queasy
thinking about coming back here to be honest with you. Empty stomachs and fast trains don't
mix,” she laughed. “I can't believe no one even noticed that you conjured that waste bin out of
nothing.”

“I wouldn't say no one noticed,” Harry replied. “Neville didn't notice. Lupin and Tonks
wouldn't have brought any attention to it. Is there anything you need right now?” He asked,
hoping she would challenge him to conjure something.

“Just you,” she answered sweetly. Plans to practice advanced magic were forgotten as they
cuddled until they fell asleep. Any Gryffindor who walked through the common room the next morning
was left with no doubts that the two were a couple. Hermione was sleeping peacefully in Harry's
arms. His glasses were on the table and both wands were abandoned on the floor with their slippers.
Eventually, the new prefect Lavendar woke them up and told them they needed to get moving or
they'd be late to class. Slightly embarrassed, they thanked her and asked how late they
were.

“Late enough that you'll be the talk of Gryffindor today. Not that you weren't already,”
she laughed. “Don't worry. You're both fully dressed and you actually looked kind of sweet.
I bet no one wanted to bother you.”

“Sweet?” Harry rolled his eyes. “This is going to be a fun day.”

They rushed to get ready and meet again in the common room in less than ten minutes. Ron came
down with Harry since he had also overslept. The trio ran to the Great Hall for breakfast and to
get their schedules. The Gryffindor table greeted Harry and Hermione with applause and
whistles.

“Oh, get over it!” Hermione laughed, with her face very red. “We were just talking and fell
asleep.”

“Yeah, why didn't someone wake us up?” Harry asked, agitated. He glanced over his schedule.
They were starting NEWT level classes this year, so Astronomy, History of Magic, and Divination
were no longer part of his work load. He would be having DADA, Advanced Potions, Charms, and
Transfiguration along with a new class that was a primer for mediwitch training. Anyone interested
in becoming an Auror had to have basic emergency medical training. Hermione's schedule was the
same as his, only she also had Arithmancy.

“No more Potions!” Ron said gleefully. He had not scored high enough to continue with Advanced
Potions. Neville had the same look of happy relief on his face and the two of them gave each other
a high five.

“It's hardly something to be happy about,” Hermione said disdainfully. “You can't become
an Auror now, or a medi-witch, or a...”

“There are plenty of careers that do not involve Potions,” Ron snapped.

“Yes, like Fortune Telling,” Hermione scowled, seeing that Divination was still part of
Ron's schedule.

“Just because you don't have the inner eye, doesn't mean it doesn't exist,” he
huffed.

Harry smiled. It was nice to see the two of them back to their argumentative selves. He
repressed laughing at Ron's defense of Divination, knowing Ron took it as seriously as Fred and
George took life.

“He could move to the boardwalk in Jersey,” Harry joked to Hermione.

She was silent a moment, realizing the woman had been right about everything, even Harry
becoming her husband “soon.”

“What happened in New Jersey?” Ron asked, forgetting the argument.

“We found you place to set up shop,” Harry said, then he changed the subject. “So, we've all
got Transfiguration first. I think we should get going. McGonagall won't appreciate if
we're late for the first day.” They took off to begin their day.



35. PART 35 Dumbledore
----------------------

Harry stirred the potion he and Hermione were making together as she timed him.

“Okay, stop!” she told him and he immediately quit since he knew how important precise timing
was to the stability of the concoction.

Hermione dropped two rose petals and the blue liquid became a foamy white as they dissolved. She
nodded and Harry made three more full stirs. The potion became a clear turquoise color.

“Perfect!” Hermione grinned. She coarked a flask of it and labeled it. Other students in the
smaller advanced class were turning in their samples and leaving. Harry and Hermione purposefully
lingered wanting to speak with Professor Snape alone.

Hermione sat at their desk, gathering their books deliberately slowly. Harry cleaned their
cauldron with excrutiating detail and took the sample to the desk after the last remaining other
students had left.

“Professor,” he began after getting Snape's attention. “We need to get the recipe for the
birth control potion you made for us. “Could you tell us--” He stopped. Hermione had stood up,
swayed, and caught their desk to keep from falling. He was at her side in an instant. “Are you
okay?” He asked, bracing her.

Hermione nodded, her eyes tightly shut. “I just got dizzy.”

“I'm worried about you,” Harry told her. “You've been dizzy and nauseated the past few
days and haven't eaten right in days.”

“I think it's nerves,” Hermione confessed. “I think about what we're facing all the
time. I don't want to loose you.”

Professor Snape approached them with a slip of parchment. “Are you all right, Mrs. Potter?” he
asked. Even though their teachers continued to call her Miss Granger in class, all who knew the
truth called her by her proper title when no one outside the Order was present.

“Yes, thank you.” she said, taking the parchment.

“Let me know if you need any of the ingredients,” he offered.

Hermione scanned the recipe. “Professor,” she called, a question in her eyes.

“Yes?”

“This says that I'm supposed to take the blue one and Harry's supposed to take the red
one.”

Snape stared at her blankly. “Yes.”

“But that can't be right,” she argued.

“I assure you it is correct. I hope for your sakes that you didn't reverse them.”

“We couldn't have,” Harry told him. “Professor Dumbledore gave us the potions himself. I
know we took the right ones and I took the blue one.”

“He gave me the red one,” Hermione added.

Snape looked from Harry to Hermione and back to Harry. “Are you sure? Professor Dumbledore gave
you the blue one and her the red one?”

“Yes sir,” Hermione answered. “How could he have made a mistake?”

“And you drank them?” Snape prodded as though he were having a very hard time understanding this
very simple fact.

“Of course we drank them,” Harry answered.

“And then consummated your marriage?”

“Yeah,” Harry answered uncomfortably. That had been, to an extent, the point of the ceremony,
after all. “What happens if you take the wrong potion? Is that why Hermione's sick?”

For the first time either could remember, Professor Snape looked awkward. “Mr. Potter, I suggest
you take your wife to see Madame Pompfrey,” he answered shortly. He returned to his desk and the
samples of potion waiting for him to grade.

****************




Madame Pompfrey delivered the news with disbelief. She knew the two were already married and she
knew from the way they had approached her that they had no idea what the results would be when
taking the potion as they had been instructed. Hermione had given her the potion recipe to inspect
and Harry had told her they had taken the potions backward because Dumbledore had told them to do
so. Harry was concerned that Hermione was having some kind of reaction, but clearly did not realize
what her symptoms were indicating. Hermione, who probably had an inkling of her condition
subconsciously, had been in denial and insisted that Dumbledore had not made a mistake.

“This is a dual purpose fertility potion,” Madame Pompfrey explained. “If the male takes the red
and the female takes the blue, it is birth control. If the potions are reversed, it guarantees
conception.”

The color drained from Hermione's face and she was silent.

“Conception?” Harry repeated, as the meaning of word battled its way into his resistant mind.
“But,” he looked to his wife. “We,” he stammered. “Conception?”

“You're pregnant,” Madame Pompfrey told them. “With this potion, it's inevitable for a
healthy couple. With your symptoms, I have no doubt.”

Hermione fainted on the spot. Harry carried her to the nearest bed. When she came to, Madame
Pompfrey told her she should have an exam to make sure she was physically well and Hermione
reluctantly agreed to it, changing into the gown. Harry held her hand, but looked away the entire
time to save her more embarrassment.

“It's not so bad after the first time,” the nurse explained. “There are advantages to being
a witch. We can do magical scanning with occasional physical exams throughout the pregnancy.”

“Splendid,” Hermione muttered, covering herself with the sheet. She turned to Harry, “You can
look now.”

He sat on the edge of the bed to cradle his wife. “I'm sorry,” was all he could say. “I had
no idea he would do this to us. I have no idea *why* he would do this to us.”

“How could he have made a mistake?” Hermione asked as tears streamed down her face. She kept the
sheets pulled up to her chin as Harry sat beside her, stroking her back as she cried.

“Professor Dumbledore doesn't make mistakes,” Harry told her, avoiding her eyes. He did not
want her to see the anger he felt, less she think he was mad at her.

“We're not ready for this!” she sobbed, holding onto Harry as tightly as she could.
“We're not ready for any of this! We weren't ready to be married. We weren't ready to
start sleeping together. We're not ready to have a baby! We're not ready to battle
Voldemort. We're just kids ourself!”

Madame Pompfrey gave them a look of sympathy before leaving them alone.

“I'm sorry,” Harry told her softly. “I'm so sorry. This is all because of me.” He had
never felt so guilty about anything in his life. Hermione loved him, but she had agreed to marry
him at 15 years old to ward off a threat on his life from Voldemort. She was giving up her youth
and freedom for his sake and now, now she was pregnant. This, the most important decision they
could make as a couple, had been taken from them. His love for Hermione, his guilt over their
predicament, and his rage at Dumbledore ebbed and flowed within him like a current fighting
itself.

“It's not your fault,” she told him. “I knew the potion went the other way. I read about it.
I just assumed I was wrong when Dumbledore gave it to us.”

“Don't think for one minute that it's your fault either,” Harry told him. “This whole
thing was arranged by him. He wanted us to marry. He wanted us to have this baby.”

“But why?” Hermione asked, begging for an answer Harry could not give her.

“I intend to find out,” Harry said. “Do you need anything?” he asked, aware that she might think
he was abandoning her if he left to confront the headmaster.

“Answers,” she replied. She did not even have the instinct to stop Harry from approaching
Dumbledore despite knowing how angry he was. She could feel the anger radiating from him and it
reinforced in her mind just how potentially powerful her husband was.

“I'll be back as soon as I get them,” Harry told her darkly.

As he left the hospital wing, Hedwig swooped down to him. “You always know when I need you,” he
said stroking her head affectionately. He conjured some parchment and a quill, and sent her off
with a note.

Harry checked the time and deduced that Dumbledore should be in the Great Hall for dinner, so he
turned in that direction. His anger seemed to build with every step he took. Dumbledore was playing
with his and Hermione's life and instigating situations that he should have no control over. He
had gone beyond playing with Harry's life and was now playing God with Hermione's life,
and, Harry realized, with his child's life. He was going to be a father long before he was
ready. Hermione, who was the most studious witch at Hogwarts was going to have her education
disrupted by a baby. Beyond that, Voldemort could kill him and he might not even be around to help
Hermione raise the child.

*Maybe that's it,* Harry thought. *Maybe he wants to have a spare Potter if Voldemort
kills me. Maybe he wants to train the baby from birth. He's done enough manipulating with my
life and he won't do this to my child*, Harry seethed. He didn't realize there was raw
power flowing from him as he walked briskly through the hall.

The doors to the Great Hall blew open as he approached them and they slammed shut after he
entered. With a single directive, he made his way up the center of the Hall toward Dumbledore. He
did not see all the eyes upon him. He did not hear goblets shattering as he passed or girls
squealing in fear. He did not realize the entire student body was in a state of shock at this
display of power or that they could feel his power as it reached out and touched them all. He did
not hear Ron calling his name or muttering, “Bloody hell.”

Harry marched straight to the center of the table where Dumbledore remained seated while all the
other staff turned in their direction. He paid no attention to anyone other than the aged man in
the center of the table and the center of his life's predicaments.

“Harry,” Dumbledore began, but Harry did not give him a chance to finish whatever he was going
to say.

“Who the *hell* do you think you are?” Harry asked fiercely. “You damn well better have a
good explanation for this!”

All eyes were upon the confrontation. Most could not believe they were watching a student
approach Dumbledore this way or speak to him this way. None could fathom what they were witnessing
of Harry's strength. Yes, they had all heard he had killed a basilisk and come face to face
with You-Know-Who on more than one occasion. But the speculation of just what Harry Potter was made
of had remained speculation. No one had imagined he had the fortitude to challenge the most
powerful wizard alive.

“We should talk,” Dumbledore said calmly. “In private.”

“By all means,” Harry snapped. “Your office. *Now*.”

Snape had risen in an obvious motion to protect the headmaster from what he perceived as a
threat.

“Sit, Severus. Harry and I will work this out. I do owe him an explanation.” He made no comment
to the students or other faculty.

Harry found the old man's ever-calm demeanor to be annoying. They slipped out of the side of
the Great Hall and made their way to Dumbledore's office.

“If you offer me a lemon drop, I will hurt you,” Harry told the aged wizard as he reached for a
candy jar on his desk. “Explain to me why my wife is in the hospital wing crying her eyes out and
looking at the prospect of motherhood at sixteen years old. Explain to me why you told us we were
taking birth control when you gave us a fertility potion guaranteed to cause conception. Why would
you see to it that Hermione has a child to raise when I may be killed in weeks? Why would you see
to it that she's pregnant when she and our child could be killed?”

Dumbledore watched Harry closely as he asked his questions. His visage never became less than
serene. “Yes, my dear boy, I was expecting you to be angry. That was quite a show you just put on.
Brilliant display. The Death Eaters' children will be scampering to tell their parents about
this, how you left a trail of destruction with just an emotion.” Dumbledore laughed. “You are a
legend in your own time.”

“*Why is my wife pregnant*?” Harry yelled, irritated by Dumbledore's comments. At this
point he did not care about Death Eathers or their children or his reputation.

Dumbledore leaned forward, putting his hands together as if he were praying. “Protection,” he
answered as if it were the most simple and obvious answer to be found.

“Protection?” Harry repeated. “For whom?”

“For Hermione,” the older wizard replied. “The protection your mother left you is in your blood,
in your very core. It will be passed on to your children just as it runs in the veins of your aunt.
Your child in Hermione's womb protects her in more than one way.”

“My blood runs in Voldemort's veins too. Are you forgetting that? He's broken that
barrier.”

“Remember, I said more ways than one. Evil cannot touch the pure innocence of the unborn. This
goes back to the research I did all summer on the blood bond between you, your mother, and your
mother's family. For some witches, pregnancy provides a protective shield.”

“They why didn't every witch have baby after baby during Voldemort's first reign of
terror?”

“Can you think of no one who did?” Dumbledore asked leadingly.

Harry thought a moment, “Mrs. Weasley?” he said.

Dumbledore nodded. “She will be able to talk to Hermione and explain this from a woman's
perspective.”

“Does she know?” Harry asked, suspicious that once more his life had been plotted out without
his input.

“No,” he answered. “This is not guaranteed to protect Hermione, but it's an ancient form of
magic that has been protecting some witches for generations.”

“Then it's the luck of the draw.”

“To an extent. But I believe it worked for your mother as she was threatened by Voldemort's
followers while carrying you and left unscathed. You remember that your parents defied Voldemort
three times before he was able to kill them.”

“Of course I do. But what makes you think this will work for Hermione?”

“Isn't it worthwhile to protect her in any way possible?” Dumbledore questioned. “If this
magic can be passed on through your mother's blood and sacrifice, isn't it worth the
inconvenience to protect your wife's life?”

“Is it fair to use a baby that way?” Harry asked. “It seems you did not consider that three
lives would be at stake here. Now when Voldemort comes, and we know he will come, my wife
*and* our child will be in danger.”

“And if Hermione is untouchable?” Dumbledore queried.

Harry was silent, shaking his head in frustration. If Dumbledore's gamble paid off, Hermione
would survive and so would their child. Yet, he remained torn that this was a callous way to start
a family. It was not about the child, but about the evil surrounding and threatening them.

“I should go explain this to my wife,” Harry said. “All she's asked for is answers.”

“And now you have them.”



36. PART 36 Blessed Complication
--------------------------------

Harry stopped at a balcony before going back to the hospital wing. He was not satisfied with
Dumbledore's reasoning for this predicament, not at all. The only thing that kept him from
leaping across the desk and choking the old man was his love for Hermione. He had an evil wizard to
kill, a wife to support, and now a baby to raise. He could do none of that locked in Azkaban, nor
would he give Voldemort the satisfaction of taking out Dumbledore for him. No, Dumbledore was
powerful and they had a common enemy, a very powerful common enemy. *Enemy of my enemy is my
friend*.

He sighed as he looked over the grounds of Hogwarts, thinking back to the first time he had seen
the castle and the hope it had given him for a better life. He wondered how things would have been
different if he had never left Privet Drive and the oppression of the Dursleys. It was not a case
of longing for those days, but simply going over the *what ifs*. Being a wizard had not
brought him the freedom he thought it would. Every year his life had been threatened. He wondered
what it would be like to just be a kid, wizard or muggle. *Baby, you're going to be just a
kid. Hermione will have to show us both how to go about that, but that's what's going to
happen*.

Harry mulled over the situation. He reasoned that he had enough money in his Gringott's
account to support the baby while he and Hermione finished school. Maybe he could hire Dobby to
help out. They would have to have some help with NEWTs to study for. *NEWTS.... if we live that
long*, he sighed. When Fred and George started to turn a profit, he would be making some money
from his investment. He had told them he did not want the money, but now was glad they had insisted
on making him a partner. He sighed again. There was no way he could train to become an Auror now.
He had too much responsibility weighing on him to take on that lifestyle.

He ran a hand through his unruly hair. “Meddlesome bastard,” he mumbled. *At least he taught
me to control my emotions. He probably did that for his own benefit since he knew how furious
I'd be when this hit.* He shuddered with anger, remembering that Dumbledore had called his
rage a brilliant display. *He planned it right down to me blowing up the water goblets*. He
let his frustration out in a noise that registered somewhere between a growl and a yell. He vowed
that Dumbledore, nor anyone else would manipulate him like this again.

Harry inhaled deeply, telling himself to calm down so he could go back to Hermione. But how did
he explain that this man they trusted so deeply had betrayed their trust for the *greater
good*? He had almost forgiven Dumbledore for keeping things from him and the old wizard had done
it again. When it came down to it, Harry was getting really tired of this elusive *greater
good* that always seemed to need any normalcy in his life sacrificed. Still, it did not bother
him as much that his life was being played with since he was getting used to that. What bothered
him most was that Hermione had become another pawn in the game between Dumbledore and Voldemort.
Yet, worst of all was there was now this innocent baby being manipulated too.

“He must be desperate,” Hermione said resoundedly. Harry had returned to her side and given her
Dumbledore's reasons. “I mean, he could go to Azkaban for giving us potions under false
pretense.”

Harry had not even thought of that. It was true; if he and Hermione made an issue of it, they
could have Dumbledore sentenced to Azkaban. Sentenced. “He'd never go there,” Harry told her.
Dumbledore was far to powerful to be caught and imprisoned by anyone and he had shown that the
previous school year.

“Not that I would want him sent there,” Hermione added quickly.

Harry nodded. “You're a good woman, Hermione, more understanding than I could be right
now.”

“Think about it, Harry. I'm fifteen and pregnant. That's a startlingly extreme measure
to go to for the sake of protecting me.”

It amazed Harry that she could be so reasonable when facing this. “I don't understand why he
would not talk to us about it. He wants us to act like adults, but he's not treating us like
adults.”

Hermione shrugged, thinking it over. “I just don't know,” she said somberly.

Harry sat beside her and put his hand on her stomach, just below her ribcage. “Our baby is in
there, Hermione. Can you believe that?”

She smiled and pushed his hand a lower on her abdomen. “Actually, it's probably about
here.”

“Oh,” he patted her. “Hello, baby,” he leaned over to kiss her stomach. “I'll do everything
I can to protect you and your Mummy. You don't have to protect her. That's too much
pressure for you to deal with. Of course, if you can protect her, that's great because
you're really lucky to have her for your Mum. You're going to be a regular kid, or wizard,
or witch, or if you're a squib, that's okay too. And, for your sake, I hope hair
managability skips a generation.”

Hermione laughed for the first time in hours. “Are you saying you don't like my hair?”

“You know I love your hair, get it all tangled it up,” He grinned and stopped that train of
thought. “But, come on, think of the kid.”

Hermione placed her hand on top of Harry's.

He said, “I really hope he or she is just like you... smart, loyal, brave, and all around
incredible.”

“With you for a dad, there's no way this baby won't be all of those things,” Hermione
met his eyes, tears still welling in her own. “Are you sure you're not mad at me?”

“Why would I be mad at you?” Harry asked. “This is Dumbledore's doing. But I refuse to let
this baby be just a toy. Hermione, whatever the circumstances, this is our baby and I love it and I
love you. We'll manage.”

“I love you, Harry,” Hermione said as fresh tears streaked her cheeks. She was certain she had
never cried from fear this much before in her life.

They were interrupted as Mrs. Weasley came tumbling out of the fireplace, covered in soot.
“Harry! Hermione! What's wrong? I came as soon as I got your message!” She was still holding
the parchment where *Mum, we need you. Hospital wing. Harry* was hastily scrawled.

“Honey, are you sick?” she rushed to Hermione's side. “Why are you crying? What is it?” she
spoke very quickly as she felt Hermione's forehead.

The teens exchanged looks. “Listen, don't tell anyone,” Harry started. “I mean, no one.”

Before he could say another word, Mr. Weasley also came tumbling out of the floo network,
holding a note that Mrs. Weasley had left him. “Molly, I found your note. What's going on?” he
said, rushing to her side.

“I don't know. They were just about to tell me.”

“Dumbledore gave us the wrong potion, only it wasn't the wrong potion. He meant to give us
that potion, but we thought he was giving us something else. We took it and it worked,” Hermione
told them.

Her scattered message only made the Weasleys more concerned because it was so very un-Hermione
like to not get to the point. They looked at her, each other, and then Harry.

“We're having a baby.” Harry told them plainly.

“Oh my,” Mrs. Weasly gasp, collapsing into the nearest chair. It rolled backward a few
inches.

“We thought we took birth control, but it was a fertility potion,” Harry continued.

“Oh my,” Mrs. Weasley repeated.

“He gave you a fertility potion without telling you?” Mr. Weasley queried. “That's
impossible. It's illegal. It's immoral. Albus Dumbledore did that?”

“He said pregancy would protect Hermione from evil curses,” Harry told him, his voice free of
emotion. He had worked himself into a calm state, telling himself that being angry would do no good
at this point.

“Oh,” Both Weasleys said as understanding dawned on them.

“He should have told us,” Harry added. “He should have let us make that decision.”

“No, it doesn't work that way,” Mrs. Weasley argued. “If you conceived a child with the sole
purpose of using it for protection, it would not hold the same magic.”

“But he said that you guys...”

“Each of our children is a product of love and love alone,” Mr. Weasley interrupted. “We both
come from large families, you know. It was simply a bonus that Molly had a shield around her while
she was expecting. We never planned a child to protect Molly. We wanted each one of them.
Dumbledore's intent may have been protection, but you and Hermione were only acting in
love.”

“Love,” Hermione said. They all turned to look at her. “It all goes back to love, doesn't
it? Harry's mother's love saved him from Voldemort. Our baby is a physical embodiment of
love, our love, and the love that Lily passed on to Harry.”

“He can't touch love,” Harry said, picking up on Hermione's reasoning. “It's like
light to a vampire or holy water to a demon.” He took Hermione's hand in his own. “Love is our
greatest shield and our greatest weapon.”

Mrs. Weasley came to her adopted son and daughter in law. “Don't you worry, my dears. This
is going to work out. We'll help you however we can. Arthur, can you believe that we're
going to be grandparents? Finally,” she added. It was no secret that she was hoping Bill or Charlie
would have given her grandchildren by now.

“Thanks,” Hermione told them.

“Remember, please don't tell anyone,” Harry said. “Aside from us and Dumbledore, Madame
Pomfrey and Snape are the only ones who know. We best not let a word of this get out.”

“I'm not even going to tell my parents until Voldemort has been defeated,” Hermione told
them. “They would only worry more.”

Mrs. Weasley continued to fuss over Hermione while Mr. Weasley pulled Harry to the side. “Harry,
there's something else I've been looking into since we adopted you,” he started.

“What is it?” Harry asked softly, not wanting their conversation to alarm Hermione who was
talking to Mrs. Weasley about morning sickness cures.

“I have six older brothers. Do you realize what that makes you?”

Harry thought a minute, assuming there must be a more significant meaning than he could find,
“I'm their nephew?” he ventured.

Mr. Weasley laughed. “Aside from that. You're younger than Ron. When we adopted you, you
became the seventh son of a seventh son.”

“What does that mean?” Harry asked. He had heard the expression before, but had no idea what the
legends were behind it.

“Supernatural powers, curative powers, psychic sense, immortality, and possibly becoming a
vampire.”

Harry's eyes bulged.

“Those last two aren't true,” Mr. Weasley smiled.

“But I'm not *really* your son,” Harry said.

“Haven't you realized how powerful and binding magical contracts are?” Mr. Weasley prodded.
“You're just as magically bound to me as any of my other children.”

“So, then all these seventh son of the seventh son powers just kind of fell on me when you
adopted me?”

“If there's any substance to them, then yes. I can't tell you with any certainty if the
legends are true. There are not a whole lot of seventh sons of seventh sons running around to
verify anything. But I thought that you should be aware that if your psychic abilities become more
pronounced, to take them seriously. We've all seen and felt a shift in your power.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked. How could anyone else feel such a thing?

“Harry you are *different*. Being around you is almost like being around Dumbledore.
Don't take that the wrong way because of what he's done to you. Overall, he's always
been a very good man, even if his ways have been unorthadox. I'm sure you know that feeling you
get when you're in his presence. I'm sure you felt it the first time you ever met him.”

Harry nodded, knowing exactly what Mr. Weasley meant. When he saw Dumbledore for the first time
he knew he was standing before an incredibly powerful man. He also knew that his own sense of self
had been changing in the past few weeks. He credited it to his training and the impending task of
fighting the Dark Lord, but he had found himself more confident of his own power and found that the
playing field between himself and the headmaster was leveling. No, he did not, nor would he ever
consider himself Dumbledore's equal; but Harry knew that he could hold his own against
Dumbledore or any other wizard who challenged him. “I've been training privately with
Dumbledore,” he said, thinking that may explain any changes.

“That may be the difference,” Mr. Weasley said. “But I think you should be aware of any
possibilities at this point.”

“I'm glad someone feels that way,” Harry responded. “You must be the only one who thinks I
need to know what's going on in my own life.”

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley gave them both a hug before leaving. Madame Pomfrey had decided to keep
Hermione overnight, not because she was in any physical danger, but because she felt Hermione would
benefit from some time away from her roommates to come to terms with this. She would have told
Harry to return to the dorm, but considered that he needed time to cope too. She returned to check
on her charges soon after the Weasleys departed and told them to go to bed. After Harry moved a bed
to be close to Hermione, Madame Pomfrey gave them both some dreamless sleep potion, which they
hesitantly took.

“Maybe things will look brighter in the morning,” Hermione told Harry before drifting off to
sleep.

“Maybe,” Harry said, though he doubted it.

*I just want to thank everyone for taking time to review this. Some of your comments help me
see things I've overlooked or show me I'm going in the right directions because you ask
about things I plan to address later. Special thanks to nurray for the detailed post. I got to read
my 1000th review on my birthday!! (the 16th). That was so cool!! It's
thrilling to be called sneaky. LOL Thanks for sticking with me this far through this elaborate set
up. The battle is just around the corner and I know I'll struggle writing it, so just bear with
me. I hope by the end, I'll tie together some of the things that may have seemed pointless,
long winded, or out of character.*



37. Part 37 Malfoy, House Elves, the DA, and Murder
---------------------------------------------------

“Hey Potter!”

Harry stopped walking toward the Transfiguration classroom with Hermione and Ron and turned to
face Draco Malfoy. This was not what he wanted to deal with right now. Voldemort was an impending
threat. Ron had pressured them at breakfast to tell him what was going on and they refused, so Ron
was in a bad mood and it was putting further strain on Harry and Hermione who were already feeling
more stress than either ever had before. Harry had just found out that he was going to be a father
way too young. He and Hermione had not even had a chance to get used to being married and they were
looking at parenthood while in school. He no longer trusted Dumbledore. He had blown up items left
and right the night before and this had pleased the Headmaster which made it annoying to Harry.
Most students were watching him in awe and giving him his space, but not Draco. Malfoy was either
very brave, which few suspected, or very stupid to instigate a challenge right now.

“What?” Harry snapped. He inhaled deeply to keep from hexing the blond nuisance.

“So, what did the old bastard do to piss you off?” Malfoy asked with a grin. Crabbe and Goyle
took their usual positions, standing behind him, trying to look menacing which was not as easy for
them to accomplish now that Harry and anyone he had trained in the D.A were quite capable of
reducing the lap-dogs to unconscious tentacle covered blobs.

Harry considered his answer. He could fake interest in abandoning Dumbledore's side of light
if he wanted to do so. But it was probably too soon for even Draco to fall for that. “That is none
of your concern,” Harry replied and turned to walk away.

“Then, tell me. Is it true what they wrote in the *Prophet*?” Malfoy nodded toward
Hermione. “Are you really going to marry the Mudblood because your Muggle uncle nearly killed you?”
He looked to his companions for their expected guffaws.

“Let it go,” Hermione whispered, tugging on Harry's arm. She was too tired and distressed to
referee her husband and his nemesis.

Some third year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs on their way to the greenhouses had stopped to watch
the confrontation. The Potter/Malfoy battles were infamous on campus.

“You must be desperate,” Malfoy continued. “Even *you* could do better than a Mudblood,” he
goaded. “Girl Weasel isn't much to look at, but at least she's pure blood.”

“You shut up about my sister,” Ron growled, taking out his wand. He was angry with his two best
friends and would gladly use an insult toward Ginny to take his hostility out on someone.

Harry pushed Ron's wand to the side and exhaled while Malfoy insulted his wife and his
family. He gave Dumbledore credit for training him well. A few months ago he would hexed the other
boy after one utterance of the word *Mudblood*. Now, not only was he not responding the way
the Slytherin wanted him to do, he was actually able to think further than himself and keep Ron
from getting in trouble as well.

“Maybe that uncle of yours left you with brain damage and you're too retarded now to know
better.” Draco added, making his companions chuckle and contort their faces into what they thought
were mocking poses.

“Do you have a point?” Harry asked. “Or are you trying to provoke me into blowing you up? I have
a history of doing that, you know.”

“Harry,” Hermione called. “Don't.” She was grateful that he had stopped Ron from making a
mistake and hoped he could continue to control himself. She was very proud of him for making it
this far without using magic or his fists against the other boy.

“Not even joined to the ball and chain and she's already ordering you around. I feel sorry
for you, Potter. You'll never get any satisfaction fucking her every night.”

Crabbe and Goyle laughed heartily at this. There was a collective gasp from the third years.
Hermione's mouth dropped open at the insult. Ron raised his wand again, but seemed too stunned
to think of a good hex to use.

“While I appreciate your concern, I'm sure Hermione and I will be much happier together than
you and your right hand,” Harry answered dryly, but his eyes flashed with anger.

Malfoy's face turned a bright shade of red and students within earshot of the confrontation
began to laugh.

“You'll pay for that, Potter,” he seethed.

“Oh, by all means, go running off to Azkaban to tell your Daddy. I'm sure the Dementors are
getting a little bored with your father and all the other Death Eaters. They'd probably like a
fresh soul to feed upon, assuming you have one. Maybe Crabbe and Goyle would like to join you. You
can make a regular father-son picnic of the affair. Give my regards to Lucius, would you?”

“He'll get out,” Malfoy said defiantly, grabbing Harry by his collar.

“I don't doubt that,” Harry told him. He looked Malfoy straight in the eye and added, “And
he'll go back. *If* he survives.”

Harry turned to his wife, “Let's go, Doll. We'll be late for class.” He took her hand
and led her away, certain that if she were not shocked by what Draco had said about her that she
would have hexed him and it would be he, Harry, who was breaking up a fight rather than the other
way around. “You too, Ron,” Harry called when he and Hermione had gone a few steps without their
ginger haired companion.




@@@@@@@@@@

The rest of that day had not been among Harry's or Hermione's best. Both were more than
little scattered in their classes. Instead of transfiguring a turtle into a chair, Hermione had
transfigured it into a crib, and turned bright red, panicking that everyone would know she was
pregnant. She suspected that McGonagall knew their secret because she immediately told Hermione
that her wand-waving had been off a bit for a chair, but congratulated her on producing such a
beautiful crib. The professor had then instructed the rest of the class to try the wave Hermione
had used and the room was filled with cribs within an hour. The crib making did not register as
anything unusual with the class since Hermione's work had almost always been the best and most
advanced in the class. Now that Harry could conjure things, transfiguration was a breeze for him.
Afterall, he did not need the matter of whatever object was being used to create a different
form.

Ron asked, begged, whined, and demanded to know what had made Harry so angry the day before
every time he got a chance to speak to them. Ginny had joined her big brother in this reminding
them that they were all family and deserved to know what was going on. Ginny revealed that Hermione
had not come to the dorm the night before and Ron added that Harry had not either, so the siblings
were even more suspicious together than they had been apart.

“We can not tell you right now so shut it!” Harry finally yelled over dinner, his patience
completely gone. Everyone around them had turned to stare at the group and the way almost everyone
pushed their goblets to the center of the table or set them down if they were drinking indicated
that many of them thought they might explode at any second. Some of the students had even shielded
their faces with their hands, expecting an explosion.

Harry rolled his eyes and told them he was going to the Room of Requirement to prepare for the
first D. A. meeting of the year.

“I'm going with you,” Hermione huffed, leaving most of her food untouched.

“Well that was rude,” they heard Ron say as the left the Great Hall.

“There are still two hours until the meeting,” Hermione reminded him.

Harry put his arm around her shoulders as they walked ahead. “Hmmm... two hours all alone in the
Room of Requirement?”

Hermione smiled at his implication, “As inviting as that sounds, we still need to talk to Dobby
and the house elves,” she reminded him.

“You're no fun,” he pouted. “But you're right.” It was growing closer and closer to
October 1 with every passing moment and they had to secure the loyalty of the house elves. The two
made their way to the portrait of fruit, tickled the pear, and entered the kitchen.

“Mister Harry Potter, Sir!” a squeaky voice exclaimed. In seconds, Harry was being tightly
embraced by Dobby. “I was so worried about Sir! That awful human hurt Sir badly!”

“I'm okay, Dobby!” Harry told him, peeling the elf off of himself. “It's great to see
you, Dobby. We missed you over the summer.” Harry easily conjured a lime green jacket to give to
the elf. “This is for you.”

The other elves backed away suspiciously, but Dobby squealed with delight. “Thank you! Thank
you, Sir! Harry Potter is so kind to Dobby.”

“Don't worry,” Hermione told them. “We're not going to give clothes to anyone who
doesn't want them.” It took a great deal for her to reach the conclusion that she would not
force freedom on anyone. “I'm sorry about all the hats and little knit things I made last
year.”

“She was only trying to help,” Harry added. “She wanted to make you happy.”

Many of the elves accepted this and began to approach the pair again, offering cakes, cookies,
stew, tea, chicken, sandwiches and an assortment of vegetables. They seemed to be bowing more than
they usually did and putting even more effort into pleasing their guests than they ever had
before—and that was something of note.

“Thank you very much,” Hermione said, taking a sandwich. She was hungry since she had not eaten
very much that day. She looked around for Winky, but did not see her anywhere. It was likely that
she was cleaning some part of the castle.

“Yeah, thanks,” Harry said as he helped himself to some chicken and vegetables. “We're
starving.”

“Thank you for coming to visit us, Sir and Miss,” Dobby told them. “We've been expecting you
since Professor Dumbledore came to see us this morning.”

“Oh, really?” Harry asked, keeping the hostility he felt toward the man out of his voice. “Did
he tell you we were going to come by tonight?” Harry wondered how the man had accomplished planning
his and Hermione's lives down to when they would visit the kitchens.

“Yes, Sir.” Dobby answered. “He said we house elves is to look to Harry Potter now as our
Master. We are to listen to him and Miss Granger no matter what changes happen at Hogwarts. Even
though Dobby is free, he is happy to serve Harry Potter as a free elf too.”

Harry was a bit confused by this. “He said that? But why?” He looked to Hermione, wondering if
she had any ideas.

She shrugged her shoulders.

“Did he say what would change?” Harry asked Dobby.

“No, Sir. He only said that we were to listen to Harry Potter and Miss Granger no matter what.”
Dobby was proudly inspecting his new jacket. “I did not know that Sir could conjure so well.”

The other elves nodded in agreement. It was an advanced skill that a beginning sixth year
student should not have.

“I've had to learn a lot,” Harry told them, knowing he had peaked their interest. He had
purposely not bought anything for Dobby so that he could show off his skills and open the door to
talk to the elves about the threat they were all under. “Now that You-Know-Who is back, we have to
be prepared.” He avoided using Voldemort's name in front of the already timid elves.

There was a nervous buzz about the room. “We all have to stick together in this,” Harry told
them. “It's the only way we'll survive.”

“Mr. Harry Potter Sir,” an elf who had never spoken to him before approached Harry.

“Yes?” Harry asked. “I don't think we've met before. What is your name?”

The elf smiled and answered, “Toby.”

“It's nice to meet you Toby. This is Hermione.” Both offered their hands for him to
shake.

“Sir and Miss,” Toby began. “Toby will support Harry Potter always. Toby will help anyway he
can.”

Many of the elves echoed this.

“Things was very bad for house elves before Harry Potter defeated He Who Must Not Be Named,”
Toby told them.

“What was it like then?” Hermione asked, genuinely interested.

“We can not speak of it,” Dobby told her. “Too horrible to talk about.” He effectively shut that
subject since neither teen wanted to cause the elves any added distress.

“Dobby, Toby, everyone,” Harry told them. “I'm really afraid that You Know Who is going to
attack Hogwarts.”

There were gasps and the sounds of dishes and food hitting the floor.

“I wouldn't want to alarm any of you unnecessarily, but I have a very strong feeling about
this and I thought you all deserved to know that.”

“But there's something else you should all remember,” Hermione told them. “You are all very
powerful creatures in your own right. Any one of you has the power to fight just like a wizard or
to even fight a wizard if you need to.”

“Fight a wizard?” Dobby repeated. “We must not.”

“If you need to, you can,” Harry told them. “In fact, I'm telling you to do so if the time
comes. We have to prepare ourselves in any way possible against You Know Who and the Death Eaters.
Are you willing to help us if they do attack Hogwarts?”

“Yes. Yes. We will do anything Harry Potter tells us to do.” Toby told them.

“Don't fight just because I'm telling you it's all right. Fight because you deserve
to defend yourselves against anyone who wants to hurt you. If working makes you all happy, then
that's great. Do what makes you happy. But none of you here at Hogwarts and none of your kind
deserve to be treated as poorly as some of you have been in the past,” he looked kindly toward
Dobby. “I want you all to believe in yourselves and your right to protect yourselves and your
happiness.”

The elves seemed to reluctantly accept this message. Harry hoped that it would have time to
really sink in with them before Voldemort came.

“We House Elves will be by Harry Potter's side whenever he calls us,” Dobby told him.

“That's great, Dobby, because I might have to call on you at some point.”

Harry and Hermione finished their meals and said their goodbyes, telling the elves that it was
nice to see them all. They exited to many bows and curtsies with cookies shoved into their hands
and offers of more food than they could eat in a week. Hermione stuck the cookies into her pocket
and they rushed back to the Room of Requirement for the meeting.




@@@@@@@@




The meeting was fully approved by the staff and a few new students had joined in from each house
other than Slytherin.

Cho had not returned. She had gone out of her way to avoid Harry since the third day of school
when the *Daily Prophet* had printed an article on her titled, “The One Who Let Harry Potter
Get Away.” In another Rita Skeeter “exclusive” (which meant she had been eavesdropping again), Cho
had been quoted saying, “Even when we were together it was always *Hermione this. Hermione that.
Hermione is perfect. Hermione is brilliant. What Hermione wants, Hermione gets*.” She had come
across as very catty and jealous and had been teased quite a bit since the article came out. Harry
and Hermione had both told people to leave her alone because the article probably was not even
true, but, Hermione would admit to Harry that, deep down, she had gotten a thrill from it.

They spent the first meeting reviewing what they had gone over the previous year since many of
the students were a little rusty with their defense strategies. Harry wondered if he would spend
the rest of his life teaching defense since he could not afford to go through auror training and
take care of a baby.

“What's wrong?” Dean Thomas asked. “You're a bit out in space today, Harry.” He did not
mention that Harry had not returned to the dorm the night before.

“I've got a lot on my mind,” Harry answered, helping Dean refresh his patronus charm.

“Are you and Hermione really getting married?” Hannah Abbott asked when Harry stopped to help
her remember a shielding charm.

“Yes,” Harry answered. He gave no details and quickly left her to help Colin Creevey with the
same charm.

After an hours worth of review, Harry stopped everyone's practice. They gathered around to
listen to his instructions, thinking he would simply tell them when the next meeting would be.
Instead, he pulled out his coin that Hermione had charmed the year before.

“Do you all still have these?”

Most nodded or spoke in the affirmative. Some of the new students had never had a coin, so
Hermione passed around a sheet for those who needed coins to sign.

“If at any time I send the code 383838 through these galleons, it is your cue to evacuate
Hogwarts immediately and get your house mates out as well.” Harry told them. “I have a suspicion
that Voldemort is planning an attack on the school.” Everyone else but Hermione winced at his use
of the name.

“What do you mean evacuate?” Ernie MacMillon asked. “We're supposed to be training to fight,
not to flee.”

His sentiment was echoed throughout the members. “Yeah, what's the point of training if you
expect us to leave when trouble shows up?” someone asked from the back of the group.

“Ask Luna, Ginny, and Neville what it's like to fight a Death Eater hand to hand, wand to
wand.” Harry told them. “You're being trained so you can protect yourselves if you need to, not
to risk your lives unnecessarily.”

“That's your job alone?” Terry Boot asked sarcastically.

“Don't be stupid and don't be reckless,” Harry told them. “Voldemort has been trying to
kill me for 15 years. I don't have a choice. He won't quit until one of us is dead.”

“Then it sounds like you need us to back you up,” Luna told him, her voice sounding as dreamy as
it usually did. One would never know she was discussing life threatening situation. “You needed us
last year.”

“It's not about need, Luna. But you know first hand they don't discriminate. They're
not going to take it easy on any of you because your kids.”

“With everything you taught us last year and with Professor Lupin's return, we're better
prepared than most of the graduates of Hogwarts from the past 5 years,” Neville told Harry. “I
won't abandon you in a fight against You Know Who. Besides half the Death Eaters are in Azkaban
now.”

“For now, accomplishing exactly what you just demonstrated: giving some of us a false sense of
security.”

Neville looked as if someone had slapped him with a hard dose of reality. “What about the
Dementors?”

“They could turn on the Ministry at any given time.” Hermione answered for Harry.

“You can't trust a Dementor,” Ron added, getting his nerve up since Hermione had entered the
conversation.

“I heard that Fudge is not likely to be Minister of Magic for very long,” Lavendar Brown added.
“I bet if someone new comes in, the Dementors will be even more likely to leave Azkaban. He let
them get away with things that no one else would have.” Everyone knew she was referring to their
being stationed at Hogwarts. The *Daily Prophet* had been reporting for several days that
Fudge was likely to exit his position due to public demand. Now that everyone knew for sure that
Voldemort was back, the public was in a state of crisis. Dumbledore was the general public's
first choice to replace Fudge, but he had gone on record as saying he was perfectly happy with his
job as Headmaster of Hogwarts. This did not stop the flood of letters and editorials proclaiming
that Dumbledore should fill the position.

“No matter who is in office,” Harry told them. “If the Death Eaters escape and if they attack
our school, it's going to be chaos. By the time the Ministry could get someone here to help,
they could slaughter us.”

“And how are the Death Eaters going to get into Hogwarts?” Seamus asked skeptically. “No one can
apparate in or out. We're safe here. I think you're just paranoid, Harry.”

“Maybe I am,.” Harry answered. “I really hope so.”

Before Harry could continue, a knock echoed through the room. Without waiting for an invitation,
Professors Lupin, Tonks, and Dumbledore came into the room.

“Harry,” Lupin called. His face was ashen.

“What is it?” Harry asked, leaving his position at the head of the class to meet the teachers.
He refused to even look at Dumbledore.

“They've escaped,” Lupin told him. “The Death Eaters have escaped from Azkaban. The
Dementors have left the prison and the Death Eaters have escaped.”

A panic swept across the room. It was one thing to say they would stand up to the Death Eaters
when the students knew they were behind bars. It was a different perspective when the Death Eaters
were free. Most of the murmuring halted as soon as it began as the students hung onto every word
coming from their teachers.

Harry's breath caught and Hermione joined him by his side. She grabbed his hand
protectively. The possibility of loosing him was looming entirely too closely now.

“But there's more,” Tonks added. “They've attacked again, a Muggle neighborhood.”

Hermione gasp, thinking immediately of her own family. The panic grew among the D.A., especially
among the Muggle-born and half-bloods.

Harry squeezed his wife's hand, also suspecting the Grangers had been attacked. “Where?”

“Privet Drive,” Dumbledore answered.

This was meaningless to most of the students who looked from one to another repeating the
words.

Harry was shocked, too shocked to grasp the feelings that were flowing through him. “And?” he
asked, searching for the rest of the story.

“Your aunt, uncle, and cousin were all murdered,” Lupin told him, hoping to deliver the blow as
softly as he could. Despite the way the Dursleys had mistreated Harry for years, they were his only
living blood relatives.

Harry felt a bit light headed and sank into a chair that had not been there until he needed it.
“Anyone else?” he asked, remembering that Tonks said they had attacked the neighborhood, not just
his house.

“Many,” she answered. “There was an explosion. It was centered at your house. The time of
evening, most of the residents were home, having dinner or gathered around their telephones.” No
one corrected her, though the Muggle-raised knew she meant televisions.

“Mrs. Figg?” Harry asked, remembering the one person in the neighborhood who had shown him
kindness.

“She's gone,” Dumbledore answered. “About 40 people were killed.”

“How?” Hermione asked. “How did they do it?”

“A gas truck,” Lupin answered. “They positioned a gas truck in front of the Dursleys and it
exploded.”

“Muggle authorities think it was an accident, at least that's what the initial reports from
the Ministry are saying. ” Tonks told them.

“How do you know it wasn't?” Neville asked, one of many who were hoping that this massacre
was not really related to Voldemort.

“The Dark Mark,” Dumbledore replied. “It was centered, glowing brightly above the Dursley
residence. Every wizard at the scene could see it clearly.”

“Why?” Harry asked. “Why would Death Eaters go after the Dursleys?” It did not make sense to
Harry. The Dursleys and the Death Eaters had one thing in common: all of them hated Harry.

“To hurt you,” Hermione answered for them. “To take away the only thing left of your family.”
She was too stunned by the news to even feel her anger at the headmaster for the time being.

“They didn't deserve that,” Harry replied. “No one deserves that. All the neighbors were
innocent, completely innocent.”

“That's what it was like twenty years ago,” Lupin replied sadly. “They hate Muggles. They
kill Muggles for sport.”

“What are we going to do?” Padma Patil asked, tears streaming down her face. “What do we
do?”

“We stay here,” Dumbledore told them. “For now, we stay here. However, I believe you all have
gotten some specific instructions from Mr. Potter on evacuation,” he reminded them. “Follow them.”
Before a riot of questions and hysteria could erupt from the D.A., Dumbledore told them all to go
to their dorms. He assured them that no other student's family had been attacked so far. *So
far* was not encouraging to any of them.

Harry, Hermione,.Ron, and Ginny lingered behind.

“Harry, are you okay?” Lupin asked.

He did not answer. He did not know how to answer. He realized that somewhere inside he loved his
Aunt Petunia. She was his mother's sister and she hated magic. Petunia had had good reason to
hate magic. Once again, being close to Harry, even begrudgingly so, had cost innocent people their
lives.

“You all should return to your dorms as well,” Dumbledore told them, realizing that Harry was
not in a position to discuss how this was affecting him. “There's much to deal with tomorrow
and that is when we will deal with it. If you need anything tonight, don't hesitate to ask
Professor McGonagall.”

The Gryffindors returned to their dormitory in silence. No one knew what to say. This was it.
The war was upon them.



38. When You Blow Things Up, You Have to Write about the Ramific
----------------------------------------------------------------

*A/N: Thanks for the continued interest in this story. I appreciate all the comments! This
chapter sort of took on a life of it's own. I'm writing two others simultaneously (not the
best way to work!). I realized I needed this chapter for the sake of continuity, so here it is.
It's kind of boring, but it's one of those “necessary evil” chapters.*

It appeared that the entire house of Gryffindor was waiting for Harry, Hermione, and the
Weasleys when they walked into the common room.

“Is there anything we can do?” Lavendar Brown asked. It was evident that she had been crying, as
had many of the girls. It had stunned everyone to hear that Harry's entire family had been
murdered. Many wondered why they were a target when it was public knowledge that they did not even
treat Harry well. Everyone knew that the Dursleys were likely just a beginning to the killings.
Before, it had been easy to think of the looming threat as something less than it was.

Harry shook his head. “There's nothing anyone can do. Thanks for asking,” he added, not
wanting to seem ungrateful that his housemates cared about him. “Everyone, just go to bed and get
some rest.”

Many students echoed the sentiment to let them know if they could do anything to help as they
filed out of the room.

Harry sat down by the fire with his wife and adopted siblings. Neville lagged behind too. “I
don't think I can sleep. You guys can go on up if you want,” said Harry.

“We're not going to leave you,” Ginny told him. She patted his hand. “I know they were
awful, but they were your family.”

“I don't want to be in the way,” Neville said. “I only wanted to let you know I'm here
and I understand. Or, I sort of understand. I mean, I still have my Gram.”

Harry nodded, “Yeah. I know you understand. Thanks, Neville.”

“If you want me to leave, I will,” he offered, not wanting to impose on what was essentially a
“family” situation.

“It's okay,” Harry told him.

“Stay,” Ginny answered, reaching up to touch Neville's arm. He blushed at this, but sat down
in a chair across from her.

“I'm sorry, Hermione,” Harry said, looking away from her.

“Why are you apologizing to me?” she asked. She had not let go of his hand since they sat
down.

“I felt your fear when they said Muggles had been attacked. My first thought was of your parents
too. We can't ignore that they're going to be targeted. They've killed everyone in my
family, or at least everyone they know to be in my family. God, Ron, I'm sorry,” he said as it
hit him once again that his closeness to the Weasleys made them prime targets.

“Harry, it doesn't matter if we're pure blood. Look at what they did to Neville's
family.” He cast the other boy a sympathetic look.

“He hates Muggles too. And he hates Muggle borns,” Hermione added, yet she knew that her
closeness to Harry did put her family in more danger than most Muggles.

“Where are we safe?” Ginny asked, hopelessly.

“We're safest here with Dumbledore,” Harry told them. “None of us will really be safe until
Voldemort and the Death Eaters are gone though. I think we should do something about hiding your
family, Hermione. We can't leave them out in the open.”

“Any suggestions?” Hermione asked.

“At Padfoot's old place,” Harry answered. It was enough to convey the message to Hermione
without conveying it to Neville.

She nodded in agreement. “That would work.”

“Mr. Potter,” called a shrill and stern voice. They five students saw Professor McGonagall enter
the room.

“Yes, Professor?” he answered.

“You all need to get to bed. Professor Lupin and I will escort you to Little Whinging
tomorrow.”

“Why?” Harry asked. He had long since settled himself with the idea of never returning to Privet
Drive.

“You have to make decisions regarding your family's memorials. The Muggle authorities are
expecting you.”

“But, they signed me off,” Harry replied. He was not being argumentative; he was surprised that
he was needed. “I'm nothing to them anymore. Wouldn't Aunt Marge be in charge of
everything?”

“Oh, no. Didn't you know?” Professor McGonagall asked, shocked. “Marge Dursley died from a
massive heart attack last winter.”

“She did?” Harry asked, stunned. Even though the Dursleys rarely said a word to him, it seemed
odd that no one had told him about Marge's death. It also seemed odd that they had not found a
way to blame him and his magic for it. “No one mentioned it to me. They're all gone?”

Professor McGonagall nodded sympathetically. She was flabbergasted that no one had told Harry
that his aunt had died.

“What happened to her dogs?” Harry asked absently, despite having nothing but bad memories of
her animals.

“No idea,” McGongall replied, noting that Harry seemed more concerned about them than about the
woman herself. “Now, go to bed, all of you. Harry, we're leaving first thing in the
morning.”

“I should go with him,” Hermione interjected. “I'm his... fiance. He needs me.”

“Fine,” McGonagall agreed. “Now if I have to tell you to clear out one more time...” She did not
have to finish her sentence as Ginny, Ron, and Neville got up immediately. Hermione kissed
Harry's cheek and told him she'd see him in the morning. Tonight more than any other night
since they returned to Hogwats, both wished they could return to their sleeping arrangements of the
summer,.

@@@@@@@@@@

After a restless night, Harry got up, took a shower and dressed in Muggle clothing for his trip.
He met Hermione in the common room. Some of the students leaving for breakfast stopped to ask how
he was feeling and others said nothing as they passed. Professors McGonagall and Lupin arrived
together. They brought muffins for Harry and Hermione to avoid having to use the Great Hall for
breakfast. The four of them took a portkey to an empty store space near the Little Whinging police
department.

“Is it safe for us to be here?” Hermione asked, afraid that Death Eaters might be lurking and
using this as a trap for Harry. She looked around to see if anything seemed abnormal. It was
unusually quiet given the tragedy of the previous evening.

“We're surrounded by Aurors,” Lupin answered softly. “You may never know they're around,
but they are.” The four walked in silence to their destination.

A detective met the group soon after they found the police station. He extended his hand to
Harry and introduced himself as Roger Fleming. The group exchanged names and pleasantries and he
invited them to all sit down while he retrieved a file.

“Mr. Potter, I see you've been away at school?” Fleming asked, scanning the file.

“Yes. He attends Hawthorne Honors Academy in Scotland,” McGonagall answered. “I'm the head
of his dormitory. Professor Lupin is a friend of the family.”

“And you are?” Fleming asked Hermione.

“My girlfriend,” Harry answered. “The headmaster allowed her to come along since,” he swallowed,
“since I have no family left.” Images of Sirius falling to his death and the sound of his
mother's screaming floated through his mind. Everyone had been killed because of Voldemort.

“Ah,” Fleming nodded. “Hawthorne Honors Academy? I've never heard of it.”

“It's very exclusive,” McGonagall explained. “Only the finest students are accepted.
Harry's parents arranged for his attendance as soon as he was born. They were both students
there as well.”

“You two must be very bright to go to such a fine school,” Fleming said in a friendly
manner.

“You have no idea,” Lupin responded. “I would say these are the two top students of our school,
wouldn't you Minerva?”

“Well, I would, but not in front of them,” she laughed.

Hermione blushed and Harry looked down at his knees. This Honors Academy story sounded much
better than the truth that they were both studying witchcraft. It was doubtful that the detective
would have the same attitude if he was told the truth. In fact, it would probably move Harry right
up to the head of the suspect list.

“Detective, what happened?” Harry asked. “How did so many people get killed?”

He shook his head slowly as if he could barely believe it himself, “A full tanker of propane
lost control, slammed into the Dursley's garage and blew up. It was a chain reaction. The
initial explosion and fire was so massive that it set fire after fire and explosion after
explosion. Fortunately, most of the neighborhood was evacuated, but there were several houses where
people didn't have time to know what was coming, much less to get out.”

“That's horrible,” Harry said, thinking of his neighbors. “What about Mrs. Figg?” he asked
for the second time, hoping the initial reports were wrong.

“She didn't make it out,” Fleming answered sympathetically. Her house was far enough away
that it was not destroyed, but it appears the fumes got to her.

They all knew that Mrs. Figg had not fallen to fumes, but, more than likely, to a Death
Eater's curse. She was a known squib since her testimony on Harry's behalf the year
before.

“Do you think?” Harry started. “I mean... did they suffer? Was it quick?” As much as the
Dursleys despised him, he did not want them to have suffered a horrendous or slow death, not even
Vernon. They would never know if the explosion had been to cover the murders or if it had been the
means to commit the murders.

“Mr. Potter, your house was blown up immediately. They never knew what hit them,” Fleming
answered.

Harry nodded. “At least it wasn't drawn out,” he consoled himself. “Was there anything
left?” he asked, trying to get a better picture of what exactly had happened.

“It's the damnedest thing,” Fleming shook his head disbelievingly, “Even with the blast
centered at #4, somehow, the closet under them and part of the stairs was still standing when the
fires were finally put out.”

“That doesn't make any sense,” Harry said as his companions exchanged looks of wonder.

“Tell me about it. Maybe the stairs had steel reinforcement,” the detective theorized. There was
still much to investigate about the scene of the “accident.”

“Why was a propane tanker in a neighborhood at that time of evening?” Hermione asked, changing
the subject. It bothered and comforted her at the same time to think that the cupboard under the
stairs was still standing after the attack. Somehow it confirmed that this had not been an
accident, but magical murderous plot. But she could not think about the implications of Harry's
presence leaving such powerfully resistant force without wanting to grab him and run to protect him
from the next attack. She did not want to see strength of his magic tested further.

“That part is one we can answer,” Fleming replied. “It appears the driver lived on the street
and was simply on his way home in his company truck. He was going to cover a route for a fellow
worker the next day so, they believe, he planned on leaving for the route first thing instead of
going back to the company.”

“What do I need to do?” Harry asked, sighing. “Funeral arrangements?”

“Memorial,” Fleming answered, making it clear there was nothing of the Dursleys left to be
buried. “And paperwork. As the only relative, you'll need to talk with their lawyers. Of
course, we needed to meet with you as we are with other families to brief you on what has
happened.”

“I don't even know where to begin,” Harry admitted. “There's no family.”

“I believe the Catholic church on Morning Glory Circle is preparing a mass in honor of all the
victims. You will all be welcomed there to mourn your loss.”

Harry nodded and turned to Professor McGonagall. “Is that appropriate? Can that suffice?”

She placed a care-worn hand on his shoulder. “I'm sure it will be fine. This is such a loss
that it seems right for the community to come together to grieve.”

There next stop was the Dursley's attorney's office. It was one of many in a large firm
in the business district. George Comstock, a middle aged plump man invited Harry and his party into
his office to discuss the estate.

“I'm sorry this is so rushed,” Harry told him. “My school is in Scotland.”

“I understand, son,” the laywer told him. “It basically amounts to this. Anything the Dursleys
had goes into your trust as the only surviving relative.”

“I don't want it,” Harry told him immediately. He had decided before he walked in the door
of the office that he could not accept anything that was of the Dursley estate.

The man looked stunned, “But, Mr. Potter...”

“Pay off their debts and give the rest to charity. Give it to the other families on Privet
Drive, the ones who need medical help and help building new homes. There's got to be some kind
of fund set up, right?”

“I don't think there has been yet.”

“Then you set it up,” Harry directed. “Name it after my Aunt Petunia.”

“We're talking about a fair amount of money you're giving up,” Comstock expounded as he
fidgeted with the files on his desk. “Are you sure you do not want to consider accepting it. It is
yours by right.”

“Mr. Comstock, the last thing I want is another inheritance. The Dursleys did not even like me.
I can assure you they would not want me to have this money by default of being the only one to
survive. So, please, take the money and help people who need it.”

He nodded. “There's one more thing. Your Aunt Petunia left a letter addressed to you.” He
handed a small, sealed white envelope to Harry. “I'll draw up the paperwork to distribute the
Dursley estate per your instructions. I'm sure your neighbors will be touched by your
generosity.”

“Can you have the papers ready soon so I can sign them before going back to school?”

“I'll get right on it.”

Harry made an appointment to come back in two days after the memorial service, prior to
returning to Hogwarts. By the time the second meeting of the day was over, the four of them were
tired and decided to stop for lunch.

“I'm proud of you,” Hermione told him. “That money will help a lot of people.”

Harry shrugged it off. “It's no big deal.” He knew the Dursleys would not want him to have
inherited anything. He was curious about what the letter from his aunt said, but had decided to
wait to read it. He picked at his food.

“Eat, Potter,” McGonagall instructed. “Both of you. You've got to keep up your
strength.”

The older woman was correct. They did need their strength for the days that followed. They
arranged to have the Dursley Family memorialized with the other victims through the Catholic church
before checking into a nearby hotel. They attended these services which were covered by press from
around the world. The only comfort they had was knowing that they were surrounded by members of the
Order and aurors from the Ministry of Magic. Dumbledore had seen to it that protecting Harry was as
much of a concern to both organizations as was recapturing the Death Eaters.

Harry sat numbly through the service. It was a surreal experience to say goodbye to the family.
The guilt of knowing that all of these people had died because he had been their neighbor was
burning through him. It was not fair that so many innocent lives were taken. Lupin and McGonagall
had both sensed Harry's guilt and told him repeatedly that this was not his fault, that
Voldemort hated Muggles and that he and his followers had tormented and killed Muggles years ago.
It was to be expected that they would continue the practice since he had returned to power.

Hermione, who understood her husband's “saving people thing” more than anyone else respected
the weight of his burden. She knew that he believed that if he could have defeated Voldemort by
now, if the world did not have to wait for him to fulfill the prophecy, this tragedy would never
have occurred. She knew his logic was as sound as their professors' history lessons.

“Hermione!” they heard someone call as they exited the church.

The group of four all turned to the direction from which the voice came to see a little girl
with bushy hair waving frantically.

“Julie!” Hermione cried out, running to meet her little sister. “Mom, Dad, Grandma!” She greeted
each of her family members with hugs. Harry and the professors joined their family reunion. “What
are you doing here?” Hermione asked.

“We came out of respect for Harry,” John explained, hugging his son-in-law. “How are you
both?”

“Fine,” Harry answered, still amazed that this man actually cared about him. “You didn't
have to come all this way.”

“Of course we did,” Jane answered. “We're so sorry about this. We want you to remember that
you have family out there with us. I'm so glad Julie saw you.” The church had been so crowded
that it was nearly impossible to find someone in the crowd.

Harry lowered his voice so no passing Muggles would hear him. “You know who is responsible for
this, don't you?” he asked.

“We have our suspicions,” Eloise answered. “Pure evil.” She stood with her hand protectively on
Julie's shoulder.

“It's good that you're here,” Lupin interrupted. “Has the Order contacted you?”

John nodded. First, he had received owl post informing him that a member of the Order was coming
to visit. Dolly McDoogle, one of the latest recruits, arrived the morning after the attack on
Privet Drive, and explained everything that had happened along with extending the invitation for
the Grangers to move into Grimauld Place until the threat had passed.

“And is that agreeable with you?”

“I don't believe we have a choice,” John answered. He, Jane, and Eloise had discussed the
pros and cons thoroughly before making the decision to accept the offer. John and Jane had left
word with their patients that there was a family emergency and they would be taking a leave of
absence until further notice. They had pulled Julie from school under the guise of sending her to
Hawthorne Honors Academy thanks to some handy paperwork provided by McDoogle.

“You're moving?” Hermione asked. “To mine and Harry's place?” She knew better than to
use words like *headquarters* in public.

“Yes, we are,” Jane replied. “At least for a few weeks. We hope this will all be over soon.” She
kept one arm protectively around her oldest daughter.

“That's exactly what we all want,” Lupin agreed.

“It will be,” Harry told them glumly. “One way or another.”



39. Part 39: Stepping Down
--------------------------

Harry and Hermione spent the afternoon with the Grangers which was a welcome treat given
everything they had been through the past few days. Hermione refused to tell her parents about the
baby and even pulled Professor McGonagall aside and begged her to not mention anything that would
let her parents know she was pregnant. “Don't tell me to drink milk or eat protein or anything,
okay?” McGonagall had offered her food at every chance and had practically been ordering for her
when they did go to restaurants. It verified to Hermione that the she knew of the pregnancy.
Apparently, Lupin did not though.



“You have to tell them in your own time and your own way. I understand,” she said. They were in
the small restroom of the restaurant, close to the door to hear if anyone else was approaching.



“Then explain it to me,” Hermione said before thinking. “How could he have done this to us
without telling us?”



“Albus always has his reasons, my dear, even if we don't always understand why. I remember
when he insisted on leaving Harry with the Dursleys, I begged him to let us place the baby with a
wizard family, but he knew what he was doing and why he was doing it.”



“And look how well that worked out,” Hermione huffed. Granted that may have been for the best,
but it could also have gotten Harry killed. “He's playing God with our lives,” She had not
intended to get into a deep discussion with the teacher about this, but the door had been opened.
“I'm not ready for this. Harry isn't ready for this. And what if Harry gets killed? What
will I do then?” Once she began talking, all her fears were easily voiced.



“It will all work out,” McGonagall assured her, giving her a rare hug.



“How? How are we going to have a baby and finish school?” Hermione felt like she might begin to
cry, wavering between anger and frustration.



“Don't worry about that. We'll see it to it that you do,” she promised. “You're the
brightest witch at Hogwarts and Harry is the most powerful wizard we've seen in decades. If
anyone can handle this, it's you and Harry.”



“And then what about the rest of our lives?” Hermione asked despondently. A baby at this point
would disrupt so many things including their furthering their educations. Without good jobs, it
could even effect how many kids they eventually had. She did not want to resent this baby. She knew
she would love the baby no matter what, but she wanted to want it too.



Before the professor could reply, their conversation was interrupted when they heard light
footsteps outside the door. Julie walked into the restroom, “Come on, Hermy! I'm hungry,” she
whined. They weaved through the tables to rejoin the group waiting to order lunch.



“We won't waste too much time here,” John told them. Everyone was aware that the Grangers
needed to transition from the protections they'd been provided over the summer until now to the
more secure cover provided by the old Black family home. “But it is great to be able to see our
girl on her birthday,” he grinned.



Harry's eyes bulged. “Today's your birthday? Already?”



“You've been preoccupied,” Hermione smiled. The expression on his face was priceless.



“I'm horrible!” he said. “I didn't forget your birthday was coming up. I have a present
for you in my room. I swear, I do. I just lost track of the dates.”



“Harry, it's okay!” Hermione laughed. “Now I get to hold this over your head for at least
150 years.”



“She learned from the best,” John laughed, earning a jab in the side from his wife. He then
explained that they had sent Hermione's gifts via owl post to the school because they were not
sure they would be able to find her at the church.



“That's okay,” Hermione said. “I'm just glad I got to see you all!”



“Happy Birthday,” Harry said meekly. “I'll make it up to you,”



“Sweetheart, Darling, Love of My Life, you do not have to make it up to me. You lost track of
dates after finding out every remaining member of your mother's family was murdered. If it
wasn't my own birthday, I would have forgotten too!”



“Eventually, you'll want him and everyone else you know to forget your birthday,” Jane told
her. She added some artificial sweetener to her coffee as she spoke.



“As young as you are, you're worried about people remembering your age?” McGonagall asked
her. “Darling, you're just a baby yourself!”



“So, how old are you then?” Lupin asked his former professor, something only someone who had a
good relationship with the woman would have dared.



“Old enough to remember when you were young Mrs. Potter's age,” McGonagall answered. “And
keen enough to remember the kind of trouble you got into with the previous Mr. Potter. So, unless
you want me to start telling stories on you, I suggest you change the subject.” Despite her usual
stern voice, everyone knew she was being jovial.



“We'd love to hear those stories, Professor,” Harry grinned. It would be fun to hear stories
about Lupin, but it would be even better to hear stories about his father.



“And fill your head with ideas? I should think not!”



“Things are kind of boring without Fred and George.” Hermione said wistfully as she set down her
menu. Nothing sounded appealing, but she ordered a turkey sandwich when the waitress came by.



While they waited for their food to arrive, they shared many stories with her parents about the
Weasley Twin's antics through the years. By the time desert came, they had made it to Fred and
George's magnificent escape from Umbridge the year before. Hermione was mortified when the
waiting staff at the restaurant brought out a small cake for her and the entire restaurant sang a
chorus of “Happy Birthday” in her honor.



“I am going to kill you all,” she said slowly, her face burning crimson, as the staff cleared
out, but soon she was laughing over the whole thing. Saying goodbye to her parents came too soon
for Hermione.



When Harry, Hermione, and their professors returned to Hogwarts it was to more stunning news. It
was time for dinner when they arrived and the professors insisted that the students go first to the
Great Hall. McGonagall was back in her “Hermione, you have to eat right” mode.



The Potters joined their classmates as a few students scooted down to make room so that they
could sit across from Ron and Ginny. Soon after McGonagall and Lupin made it to the head table,
Dumbledore rose from his seat and clanged on his glass to get the collective attention of the
crowd.



“Since our Deputy Headmistress has returned, I feel it is the right time to make an
announcement,” he started. There was none of his usual joviality. After a brief pause, he
continued. “I have decided it is in the best interest of this school for me to step down from my
position.”



After some initial gasps and murmurs, the entire hall was in a state of complete stunned
silence. No one looked quite as taken aback by this announcement as the Deputy Headmistress
herself.



“I have begun to question myself and some decisions I have made recently. At this point, I do
not believe I am the best person to be in charge of our brightest young witches and wizards.” His
voice was steady and sure.



Harry and Hermione exchanged knowing glances which were not lost on Ron and Ginny.



“Albus!” McGonagall interrupted. “You can't be serious!”



“Oh, but I am, Minerva. I am. You will be Headmistress now. Hogwarts will be just fine under
your care and supervision.”



“I consider myself lucky to have had the privilege of being Headmaster for so many wonderful
years. So *very many* years,” he added, as though exhausted by the thought.



“No, it is time for this tired old man to step down,” Dumbledore concluded. “I believe it is for
the best. Thank you.” With that, he literally stepped down from the head table and silently
exited.



The Great Hall went from stunned silence to an uproar in an instant. Students at every table
were reacting in various ways, though most seemed unhappy. Only some of the Slytherins were
smiling. Even the ghosts were reacting with surprise.



“He can't do that!” Hermione exclaimed. “He can't leave us. Not now!”



“You know what he's talking about,” Ron accused Harry. “You know exactly what mistake
he's made. He made it with you. That's what that blow up was about the other day.”



Harry ignored Ron and hoped the other students near them were too busy with their own
conversations to pay attention to his friend.



Hermione burst into tears, “I can't take anymore!” she cried. “How can he leave us now? What
happens when—if—?” she sniffed. None of her housemates needed her to finish her statement. They
were all thinking the same thing: *What happens if Voldemort comes,* though it was doubtful
that any of them were thinking his actual name.



Another sound of a spoon clanging on a goblet from the head table got everyone's attention
again. “If you please,” McGonagall started, “Professor Dumbledore has made his decision. We will
carry on as normal. Thank you.” She sat down and continued to eat. The last thing she needed to do
was demonstrate any apprehension about being Headmistress.



“Let's go,” Harry said to Hermione, taking her hand as she stood up. “Maybe we can catch
him.” It was not lost on him that Professor Snape had left the head table almost immediately after
McGonagall had called the room back to order.



“Not if he doesn't want to be caught,” Hermione answered sadly. Ron jumped up to follow them
as the exited the Great Hall.



“He'll go to his office,” Harry reasoned. The three of them raced to the stone gargoyle and
Harry gave the password only to find that it had been changed. “Dammit. He doesn't want us to
get up there.”



“Cockroach Clusters! Ton Tongue Toffees!” Ron began listing every candy he could think of.



“Voldemort,” Harry exclaimed. The statue moved immediately.



“What the hell made you think of that?” Ron asked, as he took the steps two at a time, ascending
faster than either of his companions.



“It's a great word to keep out visitors,” Harry explained as he followed Ron. How many other
words did so few dare to utter?



They found that Dumbledore was in his office. He looked up at the intruding students. “I have
trained you well,” he said to Harry, the twinkle still in his eye.



“And now you're going to just leave us?” Harry asked. He watched as Dumbledore put some
magical odds and ends into a carpetbag that swallowed them up like a great black hole. It held far
more than it's size indicated it would.



“Yes,” Dumbledore answered as he put some books into his bag. .



“But you can't!” Hermione cried. “Not after everything that's happened. You can't
leave us! We need you. Voldemort might attack us at any time. That was your plan, to lure him here.
And now you're going to leave over a bad decision?”



“That's correct,” the old man replied. “Good luck, Harry, Hermione, Ron.” he said, stepping
toward his fireplace.



“But if you leave--” Harry started, but was cut off.



“If I leave, you will be well equipped to handle what comes your way.” Dumbledore took a handful
of floo powder and stepped into his fireplace. He muttered something none of the teens understand
and disappeared in a flash of light.



@@@@@@@@@@



Somewhere in the dark night, Severus Snape was bowed before Lord Voldemort in a dimly lit room
that resembled a dungeon. “My Lord, I came immediately to inform you, Dumbledore has left Hogwarts.
McGonagall is in charge and the student body is in an uproar. Now is the time My Lord. It's
time to strike Harry Potter.”



A/N: Where has my summer gone? I have to go back to work in a couple of days, so my time for
writing will be limited. I promise I am going to finish this story though. I've got the plan...
I just have to get it onto paper (so to speak). Thanks for sticking with me this far!



40. Part 40: A Good Old Fashioned Death Eater Ass-Kicking
---------------------------------------------------------

*Random Disclaimer: I still do not own anything Harry Potter. It's JKR's world and
I'm just playing in it. Prophecy text borrowed from OOTP. This story is for entertainment only.
No profit sought/no profit gained.*




“He's going to wear a hole in the carpet,” Ron commented, watching Harry pace the floor of
the Common Room. He shared the sofa with Hermione who, like Harry, was still in Muggle
clothing.

“You're making me nauseated,” she said, closing her eyes as she leaned her head against her
hand. Her elbow was propped on the arm of the sofa.

Despite the number of people present, the Common Room was eerily quiet as those who watched
Harry waited, it seemed, for him to let them know what to do. In Dumbledore's absence, everyone
knew the most powerful entity on campus was a scrawny raven-haired sixth year who was too short for
his age.

Harry's eyes were flashing as his thoughts raced. He had moved on from denying
Dumbledore's departure or questioning his motives. He was focused on creating a tactical plan
to protect his wife, child, and the other students. “Hermione,” he stopped. All eyes turned to him
as if expecting a miracle. “Tell me everything you know about the barriers protecting
Hogwarts.”

“There's a force field of sorts that keeps wizards from apparating in and out. It also keeps
Muggles from seeing what the school really looks like and sort of repels them. The forest itself is
filled with creatures that could harm any stranger if provoked.”

“Other ways to get in?” he asked.

“Invitation. Taking on a different form.”

“House Elves can apparate though.”

“They're a different kind of creature. They have their own powers.”

“And Voldemort came in as a memory and as a parasite,” he added.

“Oh, Harry!” Hermione gasp as dawning settled upon her. “The protective shields are linked to
the Headmaster. McGonagall has to reset them all since Dumbledore left.” Other students murmured at
this revelation. No one doubted that Hermione knew exactly what she was talking about. She was the
only student who could practically quote *Hogwarts: A History*.

“He left last year for a while and there were no problems,” Ron pointed out, thinking of what
had happened when the DA had been revealed.

“He did not relinquish his title willingly then,” Hermione answered. “Magical contracts, Ron.
They're binding in ways we sometimes fail to consider.”

“So, we're at our most vulnerable right now,” Harry deduced. “Because of Dumbledore's
exit, the school has the weakest protection it has had in decades.” His eyes caught
Hermione's.

“He *is* going senile,” Ron shook his head. “What a time to desert us!”

“It's what he planned,” Hermione said, realizing what Harry was thinking. “He knows that as
soon as Voldemort learns he left, then they'll attack and go after Harry.”

Harry called out, “Everyone, gather around!” and he sat down between Ron and Hermione.

All of the Gryffindors present came closer, surrounding the Trio as they took seats, sat on the
floor, or even stood to hear what Harry had to say.

“Death Eaters will be here soon,” Harry announced. “We're at our most vulnerable right now
and Voldemort will take advantage of that. There's no doubt. Dumbledore knows how to read him.
He knew that as soon as he left, Voldemort would get word and use it to his advantage.”

“Why are you sure he's going to come here?” a fourth year girl asked.

Harry thought a moment. He was sure because he was at Hogwarts and Voldemort was after him. “I
could leave,” he said suddenly, realizing he could save Hogwarts an attack.

“No you will not!” Hermione barked. “No way! This trap is set for Hogwarts for a reason.”

“You're right,” Harry answered, his hopes of moving the battle dashed. He knew there were
pieces of Dumbledore's plan that he did not understand and it would be best to follow the path
that was laid out before him. His summer training had taught him as much about using his mind to
out-think the enemy as it had to focus his magic.

“I know he's coming to Hogwarts because I know he's coming after me. The best thing for
all of you to do is to get out know. I've shown you where the secret passageways are, so take
them.”

“He's coming after you,” Seamus asked, skeptical as always. “You specifically? Not just
Hogwarts?”

“Yes, *me specifically*,” Harry answered. “He's been after *me specifically* for
sixteen years. The rest of you do not have to be targets. You can get out and that's exactly
what you should do.”

“Why?” Pavarti asked, looking frightened as she huddled closer to Lavendar. “Why is he after
you?”

Harry could see the frustration, sadness, and fear in her eyes. He instinctively took
Hermione's hand. “I'm not sure I can say,” he answered softly. He was sure Ron and Ginny
would feel betrayed if they learned the truth at the same time as the majority of Gryffindor.

“It goes back to the Prophecy, doesn't it?” Neville asked. He was leaning against the chair
where Ginny was sitting. He had figured out long ago that the Prophecy had to have been vastly
important for Voldemort to go to such extremes to find it.

“But it got broken,” Ron replied casting an accusatory look toward Neville.

“I think you should tell them,” Hermione said. “They need to know.”

“Why?” Harry asked, unsure that it was the best thing to do.

“So they'll know what we're up against, what you're up against and how paramount to
our survival this really is,” she told him. She nodded as if to say *Go ahead,* letting him
know it was okay to reveal the truth.

“Neville's right,” Harry began. “It all goes back to the Prophecy.”

“What prophecy?” Dean asked.

“About seventeen years ago, a prophecy was made. It's the reason Voldemort has tried to kill
me so many times. It's the reason he killed my parents. They didn't have to die,” he added
sadly.

“Why was he trying to kill a baby?” Lavendar asked, captivated by his words and by the element
of fortune telling. Even as his yearmate for six years, she had not become immune to the legend of
Harry Potter.

Harry took a deep breath. “The Prophecy states: *The one with the power to vanquish the Dark
Lord approaches. Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies. And the
Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not. And either
must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives. The one with the
power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies*.”

There was complete silence for one very long minute.

“You? You're You-Know-Who's *equal*?” Ginny asked, stunned. “He's... his
power...is,” she grappled for words, knowing first hand how powerful just his memory was. “And
you...” she was unable to voice a complete thought.

“You have to kill him?” Ron exclaimed, floored by the revelation and too shocked to be angry
that he had not been told earlier.

“How are you going to kill him?” Colin asked, wide eyed and even more in awe of Harry than he
had ever been before.

“I don't know,” Harry answered truthfully.

“Well, you're not going to have to do it alone!” Neville stated decisively. No one was
expecting it from him. “Harry, you're the only hope we have to avoid complete domination by
evil. If I have to die defending you, so be it.”

“Neville, don't— “ Harry started. He could not bear the thought of someone else dying to
protect him.

“Harry, you can not take on a gang of Death Eaters and Him. You leave the Death Eaters to me and
Ron. We'll clear the way for you to focus on him. If he kills you, we'll all pay dearly, so
you have to survive to fight him.”

“You and Ron?” Ginny repeated. “And me and Hermione. I'm with you guys!” she jumped to her
feet. “Bellatrix Lestrange's ass is mine!”

“Not if I get go her first,” Neville replied.

“I'm staying,” Dean stood up. “You've trained us to fight and that's exactly what
we're going to do. You didn't waste all that time training us so you'd have to take on
You Know Who and the Death Eaters alone.”

“I'm staying too,” Colin said, standing up. Dennis joined his brother voicing his resolve as
well.

“I'm not running,” Seamus said. “I'm a Gryffindor.”

“We're all Gryffindors,” Pavarti said proudly as she stood up with the other members of the
DA. Soon everyone in the Common Room other than the Trio were on their feet, declaring their
support.

Harry smiled, overwhelmed by the dozens of students standing up, ready to fight with him and for
him.

“You leave the Death Eaters to us,” Neville repeated. “And you kill You Know Who.” He turned to
the other students, “Harry Potter will be the one still standing when all of this is over. It's
our job to see that he's got the backup to fulfill that Prophecy.”

“I think we should inform the rest of the DA,” Ron said. “And we should go do it now. Come on.
Who wants to visit Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw?”

Harry and Hermione got up to go with the group as they split up.

“No,” Ron said. “You've both had a hell of a day. Go take an hour to celebrate
Hermione's birthday.”

“You remembered?” Hermione asked.

Ron beamed. “Of course I did.” He amended his story when he heard Ginny clearing her throat
behind him. “Well, Ginny mentioned it earlier. And Mum sent you a present.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and Harry laughed at his admission.

“Seamus, Dean, Neville, come on!” Ron called. He leaned close to Harry “You've got one
hour,” he informed him softly.

Harry did something totally unexpected. He hugged Ron. “Thank you for everything,” he said,
compelled to somehow let Ron know what his friendship meant. He realized that Voldemort could be
bearing down on them and he might not ever have another chance.

Ron patted Harry's back a few times, then pulled away blushing to the tips of his ears.
“You're welcome,” he sputtered, embarrassed that Harry had just hugged him in front of the
entire house.

Harry laughed at Ron's embarrassment and took his wife's hand, leading her to his empty
dorm room.

She put a locking spell on the door while Harry rummaged through his trunk for a small
rectangular silver box he'd put there over a month ago.

Hermione opened the curtains around his bed and sat down, kicking off her shoes as she sank into
the soft mattress. “Is that a present? For me?” she asked practically singing her playful
question.

“I told you I had one,” he grinned, sitting down next to her. He placed the box in her
outreached hand.

“Good things come in small packages,” she said, shaking the box. She heard a slight rattle.
“Sounds promising,” she smiled as she tore open the paper to reveal a black velvet box.

She opened the lid and found Lily and James's rings on golden chains. She picked up the
chain with Lily's engagment ring and wedding band. “Harry, is this?” she asked, fingering the
delicate golden band.

“My mother's,” Harry answered. “I wanted you to have it, but I wanted you to have your own
wedding and engagement ring too.”

“But, Harry,” you have nothing of your mom's but this. And you're giving it...” her
words trailed off as bittersweet tears filled her eyes. She knew how he treasured every photo,
every memory shared of his parents and how he valued his Invisibility Cloak more for it's
belonging to his father than for it's power.

“I'm giving them to you. I wanted to... well, I want you to have them.” It was difficult for
him to put into words that he wanted the most important women in his life to share something.

He picked up the other chain with his father's wedding band. “I thought I could wear his and
you could wear hers. If you don't want to, that's okay. I don't, like, expect you to be
like my Mum or anything.” How could have any expectations of anyone to be like his mother when he
had no basis of comparison?

“Harry, I'm honored,” she kissed his cheek. “I think it's a beautiful way to honor them
and our family.” She held her hair up. “Put it on for me please.”

He obliged, finding the little clasp to be more of a challenge than he would have expected.
Hermione let her hair fall again and then fastened Harry's chain around his neck. “Thank you,”
she said. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Harry answered, placing his hand gently on her stomach. “Both of you.” He
kissed her softly before reaching out to close the drapes around the bed.

@@@@@@@@@@




“My Lord, we should allow the others to go ahead of you to make your way clear,” Snape
suggested, bowing low before Lord Voldemort.

“Yes,” Voldemort hissed, waiting in the dark of midnight, just inside the Hogwarts grounds.
Snape's information about Dumbledore's departure and the weakness it left in the
castle's security had earned him the highest position in Voldemort's lair. His loyalty and
usefulness had made him second in command. He had earned the honor to travel by Voldemort's
side and to act as adviser since he was most familiar with Hogwarts.

There was grumbling among the ranks of the Death Eaters. Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange
both felt entitled to Snape's position of esteem and both were eager to show themselves as his
rightful understudy. Malfoy was particularly put off by Snape's appointment since he had held
the spot just days before when he had told Voldemort of the apparent hostility between Dumbledore
and Potter. The Dark Lord had been very pleased to learn that the two wizards he loathed most were
at odds, making each of them weaker.

Just as Gryffindor had sent warning to Hufflepuff and Ravenclaws, the Death Eaters had sent word
to their own children to stay within the shelter of Slytherin, for only it would be spared. Death
Eaters planned to infiltrate each house, annihilate any resistance and stake their claim to power
over the school, the children of the wizarding world, and thus the wizarding world itself.

Without question, the strongest of the Death Eaters had been assigned to the task of taking over
Gryffindor with the specific instructions to leave Harry Potter to Voldemort. They could hurt him;
torture him, and break him, but Voldemort reserved the pleasure of killing him for his own. The
rest of the house was to be destroyed.

Voldemort laughed his evil laugh as he imagined sacrificing Potter in front of them all, using
him as the example of what would become of anyone who should resist. Voldemort would usurp
Harry's power as his own, becoming the most powerful sorcerer alive.

Harry bolted upright in his bed. His head was searing with pain from his scar.

“What is it?” Hermione asked, sitting up with him. The dark room was quiet and still.

“He's here,” Harry told her. His eyes were watering from the intensity of the pain. It felt
stronger than ever before, perhaps because he had not felt Voldemort's emotions for months, or
perhaps because Voldemort had never been this jubilant before.

“Block him out,” Hermione said, rubbing his back. She touched his scar and her caress was like a
calming balm as the pain subsided.

“That is amazing,” Harry commented, placing his hand over hers. “How do you do that?” he asked
absently.

She shrugged. “I just love you.”

Before Harry could respond, Hedwig came soaring in from the window, squawking frantically.

“We have to go,” Harry said, realizing the moment that had been coming so long had arrived. In a
flash, they were both dressed again. Harry gathered both of their wands.

Hermione unlocked the door, but turned to her husband, “I'm not ready!” she cried, embracing
him tightly. It did not feel real, being in this quiet room when all hell was about to break loose
outside of it.

Harry hugged her with all his might, “Yes, you are. We both are.”

With a crack, Dobby appeared. “Mr. Harry Potter, Sir! Mr. Harry Potter, Sir!” he jabbered. “Come
quickly, Sir! He's here! He Who Must Not Be Named is at Hogwarts!”

“Harry! Harry!” Pavarti Patil came rushing into the boy's dorm room. “Death Eaters!” she
wailed. “They're trying to get in! They're going to take over!”

Harry kissed Hermione quickly, “I love you,” he told her, his resolve strong.

“I love you too,” she answered, tears brimming in her eyes. “I can't loose you.”

“You won't.” He squeezed her hand, “Let's end this war.”

Hermione and Pavarti rushed down the stairs behind Harry. Dobby had disappeared.

As they were descending the stairs, a band of Death Eaters burst through the portrait hole. The
Fat Lady was shrieking in terror as she raced through surrounding portraits calling for help. Ron,
Neville, and Seamus fell to the floor, pushed over when the door they were trying to barricaded was
forced open. Neither spells nor brute strength had kept the attackers out.

“*Stupefy! Stupefy! Impedimenta*!” Dean Thomas called out, aiming at every intruder. He
managed to stun Nott, but missed Avery and McNair. By this time the three boys were back to their
feet.

“The little boys want to play?” Avery growled, brandishing his wand. “*Cruc*-”

“*Petrificus Totalis*!” Harry shouted before Avery could affect Dean.

McNair had taken aim at Ron, but Ron used Protego to save himself. McNair's spell backfired
and he fell to his knees, twitching in spasms.

In the midst of this, Bellatrix Lestrange, Lucius Malfoy, and the elder Crabbe and Goyle were
also in the Common Room. They had not realized they were under attack the moment they entered
Gryffindor. Instead, they had gone in with arrogance and certainty given their surprise
tactics.

Every member of the DA was ready with shielding and stunning spells, not to mention a variety of
hexes, jinxes, and curses used as defense. The Death Eaters, who had assumed their strength would
far outweigh even the Gryffindors found they were vastly outnumbered, unlike their last encounter
with students.

Harry pushed Hermione to the floor behind a couch. “Stay down,” he told her. “Stay safe.” He
reached into his pocket to find the charmed galleon, an idea had come to him that he'd never
considered before. “*Protego*,” he said, clutching the galleon in his hand. He felt it become
warm. A wave of energy flowed through him as the coin became hot and glowed brightly.

“We meet again!” Bellatrix's laughed, coming face to face with Neville. “*Crucio*!”

Neville was too stunned by her appearance to do anything to protect himself. However, to his and
Lestrange's surprise, there was a soft glow surrounding him and her spell backfired, just like
the one McNair had directed at Ron.

“What the?” she asked, befuddled, ducking to miss the rebounding magic.

“*Reducto*!” Nevile cried out, using the first spell that came to his mind. “*Reducto!
Reducto! Reducto*!” he repeated over and over until Bellatrix was the size of a grasshopper.
Crookshanks came zipping through the chaos and slapped the reduced witch to a corner where he
decided to amuse himself with his capture.

“You rock, Neville!” Ginny exclaimed having turned from bat-bogey hexing Malfoy to help her
friend.

While Malfoy was swatting at his face, he, like the other Death Eaters, was also being pelted
with food and doused with scalding water that the House Elves had brought from the kitchen. They
assaulted the band of evil-doers with lamps, vases, and goblets too. The effect was to torment,
blind, and confuse them all at once, giving members of the DA the upper hand in casting spells. The
sounds of breaking glass blending into the shouting and cracking of furniture.

Harry made his way to the stunned Nott and petrified Avery to conjure binding ropes and cuffs
that could not be removed without his releasing them magically. He petrified McNair, who had
recovered from twitching only to be scalded by the elves and stunned by Seamus.

Dobby zipped through, taking all the wands that had been dropped.

In moments, Lupin and Tonks were also in Gryffindor, accompanied by Aurors that Harry did not
recognize.

Harry saw that Malfoy was regaining his bearings. The blonde lifted his wand and pointed it
toward Ron, who was face to face with Peter Pettigrew. “*Avada*--”

“*Expelliarmus*!” Harry shouted, but it was too late. Malfoy had been able to complete
“*Kedavra*” before his wand flew from his hand.

Ron froze, realizing what was coming.

“Ron, no!” Pettigrew shouted as he threw himself between his former master and Malfoy's
curse. Pettigrew fell dead, his eyes wide open.

Malfoy hit the ground next to Pettigrew with a thud, having been petrified by Lupin as Harry
disarmed him.

“Ron!” Harry shouted, running to his best friend's side. “Are you all right?”

Ron nodded silently, still shocked over how close he had come to death and still processing that
his former pet rat had just given his life to save him. “He saved me. That bloody bastard saved my
life.”

“Crabbe and Goyle are down,” Lupin said, coming to Harry's side. “Tonks, McElroy, and Warren
were able to subdue them.

“Where's Lestrange?” Harry asked, mentally accounting for each Death Eater that had come in
other than her.

“Crookshanks has her,” Neville told them as the pandemonium around them stilled. Eight of the
strongest Death Eaters had come into Gryffindor expecting an easy take-over and each one had been
subdued by the students or the aurors. Aurors were gathering the restrained, stunned, and petrified
Death Eaters and spirits were starting to soar.

“What's going on in the other houses?” Harry asked. Hermione had left her shelter behind the
couch to join him, ecstatic that the Death Eaters had been detained without any harm coming to
Harry or their baby.

“Between Dumbledore, the other professors, and the army of aurors we've got, it's been a
bit of a good old fashioned Death Eater ass kicking,” Lupin replied with a grin on his face.

“So it has,” a cold voice hissed as evil entered the house. “You bastard! You led me into a
trap!”

All eyes turned to see that Professor Snape had led Voldemort into the Common Room. “Your
prize,” Snape said coldly.

Harry fell to his knees as he felt Voldemort's rage as it had never been before. He barely
heard the “*Crucio*” that was used against the Potions Master. Harry felt as though his world
was turning black as the anger and hatred poured through him. He collapsed in a heap.

He heard Hermione crying his name as she kneeled by his side. “Harry, come back,” he heard as if
she were calling from miles away. He heard screaming and crying as the students panicked. Voldemort
was in their presence. He was torturing Snape for his betrayal before their very eyes.
*“Run!”* he wanted to shout out to them, but no sound came. *“Hermione, run!”* he thought
over and over, until the words finally escaped his lips.

She helped him to his feet and as she did, Voldemort turned his attention to them.

“It matters not what you've done with my Death Eaters,” Voldemort hissed, approaching his
nemesis. “All that matters is you and me, Harry Potter.”

“That's right,” Harry answered, feeling dizzy, but focusing on Hermione and protecting her,
pushing her behind him so that he would be a human shield for her. “It's down to you and
me.”

“Once I get rid of you, I'll get my forces back. I'll be stronger than ever.” His
arrogance was unwavering.

“You're so sure you can get rid of me?” Harry asked, boldly approaching Voldemort,
purposefully moving away from Hermione so she would not be in the line of fire. All eyes were upon
them, watching the confrontation in rapt attention.

“You have been a challenge, I'll give you that.” Voldemort answered, in no hurry to end
things as he was confident that he would be able to defeat the boy. “You have been more trouble
than you're worth and those who have tried to protect you will pay the price.” He nodded toward
Snape who was pale and still.

“Seems to me you've been a failure,” Harry replied, goading him, understanding Voldemort
well enough to know that as long as the wizard's attention was focused on him, the other
students were in a safer position.

“Strong words from a little boy who's always had his mummy or headmaster there to help
him.”

“Weak excuse from the self-proclaimed Dark Lord.” Harry stepped closer to the wizard as the
other students held their collective breath, finding it impossible to believe that Harry was simply
having a conversation with You Know Who. “Are we going to dual or not?” Harry asked.

“You dare issue a challenge to me?” Voldemort laughed, raising his wand. “We've been through
this before, Potter. Be polite and bow to me. As enemies go, I find you quite amusing.”

Harry's eyes flashed, meeting Voldemort's. He remembered the graveyard and Cedric. “You
bow to *me*,” he ordered. His eyes did not stray from the evil red orbs as he willed the other
wizard to bow before him.

Voldemort's body curved forward and he raised himself. He appeared briefly confused by his
own actions, and the realization hit him. The child, the easy target, was truly the one who had the
power to vanquish him. Voldemort drew his wand quickly.

He began to shout a curse, but no sound came as, to his astonishment, he was face to face with a
magnificent green-eyed lion. Harry had morphed instantly. In seconds, the lion was pouncing upon
him, the broad paws holding his shoulders to the ground and giant teeth were bared.

“Gryffindor,” was all Voldemort said. He reached to the side to retrieve his briefly fallen
wand. There was no time to torture the boy. He could not afford to take him alive for the
sacrifice. His only way to get out was to kill Harry Potter immediately. Immortality would have to
wait.

Before Voldemort reached his own wand, Harry had morphed again, becoming human once more.
“Enough play,” Harry told him. Dumbledore had instructed him to use as many distractions as
possible to confuse the evil wizard and to make him doubt himself.

Voldemort clinched his wand tightly and raised it to his foe. “*Ava*-”

“*Expelliarmus*!” Hermione shouted, purposefully using Harry's wand. Just as had
happened in the graveyard, the two forces met, taking both users into the air, splintering into a
web of golden beams as a thread of light connected the brother wands.

As the light radiating from their wands met, Hermione saw into the eyes that Harry had faced too
often. She saw the pure evil, the hatred, the murderous desires. She did not have to take her gaze
away because she felt warmth to his cold and love to his hate. Lily's wedding band was
radiating from it's chain around her neck. If she had seen Harry, she would know that
James' ring was doing the same and the two were reaching out as if to find each other.

Voldemort willed his killing spell to reach Hermione, but it would not budge. There was a shield
between him and the young witch. He saw the glow in her eyes and realized at once his plan to
sacrifice Harry was futile. Only the innocence of the unborn could so powerfully shield a witch
from harm.

Like red lasers, the magic within James and Lily's rings sought each other. As they met,
Harry too was drawn into the dome of light created by the *priori incantatem* of the wands. He
was lifted off the ground and he and Hermione were on either side of Voldemort, surrounding him in
bright, warm beams.

Voldemort groaned as the light enveloped him. He broke eye contact with Hermione and she shifted
her focus to Harry. The magic connecting them shown like the sun, so that everyone watching had to
turn away from the intensity of the red and gold rays. Voldemort was trapped within the sphere
connecting Harry, Hermione, James, Lily, and the unborn child. He fell to the ground, shrieking
unforgivables, but they had no power. As Harry and Hermione were drawn closer to one another,
Voldemort was caving in upon himself. He was fighting to the end, but the love that had trapped him
was too strong for him to bear. With a fading moan of agony, the corporal wizard vanished and a
cloud of black swirled in his place. The smokey spirit zoomed frantically within the sphere,
bouncing off the sides and paling with every second. Harry and Hermione reached for one another as
both were drained of their remaining energy. A final scream echoed as the spirit disintegrated into
nothingness and Harry and Hermione collapsed, unconscious, onto the floor of the Gryffindor common
room.






41. PART 41 Explanations
------------------------

*I apologize for taking almost a month to update. I had planned to get this up within a few
days of the last chapter, but life has a way of thwarting my plans. LOL I'm not perfectly happy
with this, but given what I've had thrown at me lately, I think it is about the best I can do
without hanging onto it forever. Thank you for the reviews and the continued interest. Let's
just say I* plan *for the next chapter to be better and hope life cooperates :)*





“We are so proud of you,” Lily Potter hugged her son tightly. Her smile was shining in her
eyes.



Harry clung to her, melting in the embrace of a mother he had never known. “Are you real?” he
asked, feeling dumb and elated at the same time. The amazing light shining around them had brought
him this far.



“You did it!” James added, placing his hand on his son’s shoulder. “And put on quite a show, to
boot.” He grinned mischievously, obviously reminded of his own antics with the Marauders. “That
lion move was something else! I knew you’d be an animagus just like your old man.” 



“James!” Lily sighed. “That was so dangerous, but you did it, Harry. He’s finally gone.” 



“Where’s Hermione” Harry asked, thinking of her immediately, despite the newness of being so
close to his parents. “Is she all right?” 



“She’ll be fine. You both will.” James answered. Harry saw first hand how much he really did
look like the man, messy black hair and all.



“All three of you will be fine,” Lily said, still beaming with pride. Harry could not help but
notice how beautiful her eyes were as they sparkled.



Harry grinned back at her sheepishly. “You know about the baby?” 



“None of this would have been possible without the baby,” Lily answered.



“What happened anyway?” Harry asked. “All I remember is light and darkness. The light was
holding me back and the darkness was pulling me toward Voldemort… by our bond?” Harry trailed off.
“The bond was broken.” He thought a moment. There had been a searing pain and then a wealth of
relief like he had never known before. “He fought to take me with him, but had to let go. He
couldn’t endure the light.”



“It’s love, Harry.” James said. “You had the power of love surrounding you in an eternal
circle.” 



Harry let his father’s words sink in. His parents were his past; Hermione was his present; and
the child was his future. 



“Where are we?” Harry questioned. All around was brilliant white. “Am I, am I dead?” He reasoned
that if were talking to his parents, he was dead. He had suspected that the only way to kill
Voldemort was to die himself.



“You’re sort of in limbo, baby.” Lily said soothingly. “The battle took a lot from you, but not
your life.” 



“Can I see you again?” Harry asked hopefully. He knew his time with them was limited. He could
feel that they were going to be gone again soon. 



“We’re always with you, Harry. We’re always watching over you,” James hugged his son. “I can’t
tell you how proud you’ve made us through the years. You grew up too fast and too hard. We would
have changed it if we could have.” 



Lily looked around as if she heard someone calling to her. “Just remember how much we love you
and how proud we are of you,” she said quickly. “We’ve got to go. But, Harry, thank Molly for me.”




It looked as though James was saying something too, but Harry could not hear him.



“I love you both!” Harry exclaimed. He wanted to lunge forward and hold onto them both, but he
found he could not reach. He was being pulled further and further away. “And Sirius too. Tell him
for me!”



Harry was vaguely aware of muffled voices around him. His focus had shifted to searching for
Hermione. He tried to call out to her, but he could move neither his body nor his lips to make a
sound. He felt oddly like he was drifting, floating on water. He strained to understand what was
being said, hoping to recognize the voices. He only caught a word here and there.



“Survived…they...amazing... Snape... recovering…”



His arms and legs felt very heavy and unyielding. He was not sure how long he laid there
listening as the bits and pieces of the conversations tended to come and go. He eventually realized
that Hermione’s parents and Molly Weasley were in the room. Harry thought he heard Ron once, but if
Ron was there, he was being unusually quiet.



“You two go on and rest,” Molly said. “I'm not going anywhere for a while. Everyone's
going to be fine.” There was the sound of people shuffling about and the doors opening and
closing.



“She’ll be all right,” he heard Molly saying, sounding less like she was at the end of a far
away tunnel. “Madame Pomfrey healed her injuries.”



“I feel so lousy about being mean to her, Mom.” Harry was certain that was Ron. He wondered if
he was talking about Hermione. Now, he knew without question that was in the hospital wing.



“Then tell her you care when she wakes up, you prat!” Came Ginny’s voice.



Harry was relieved to know that both Ron and Ginny were safe, but he had to find out about
Hermione and the baby. His parents said they were fine, but he had to know for himself. “Hermione,”
he called, not realizing it sounded like little more than a whisper.



As soon as Harry spoke, he felt a rush of bodies come to his side.



“Oh, you’re awake!” Molly Weasley exclaimed, taking his hand.



“You’re safe!” Ginny exclaimed, leaning down to hug him.



“You were brilliant, mate!” Ron said. Harry opened his eyes and saw 3 blurry red-heads and the
nurse standing over him.



When he tried to say his wife’s name again, he became aware of how dry his mouth was. Mrs.
Weasley seemed to sense this and helped him sit up and drink some water. “Thanks,” he told her,
clearing his throat. “Where’s Hermione?”



“She’s still sleeping. She was given a dreamless sleep potion because she could not rest while
you were unconscious. She finally gave in and took it, knowing that she did need to take care of
herself.”



“Baby?” He asked, pushing himself to sit up. He saw Hermione on the bed next to his, looking
peaceful. Her hand was lying on her stomach.



“Fine, dear. Everyone will be fine,” Molly answered, holding his hand tightly. “I’m so proud of
you.”



“Baby?” Ron repeated. “Did you say *baby*?”



“They’re okay?” Harry asked again. Clarity was setting in slowly for him. He took comfort only
when Molly replied once more in the affirmative as she stacked pillows behind him so he could sit
up comfortably. She also gave him his glasses so that he could see them better.



“Mr. Weasley?” Harry said, afraid that he was hurt or worse since he was not with his wife.



“Author will be so pleased to see you when he gets back. He's gone to the Ministry to make a
formal announcement about what happened here tonight.” Molly answered.



“What baby?” Ron asked again impatiently, his face turning a paler shade of crimson.



“Congratulations, Ron. You’re going to be a godfather,” Harry answered dryly. So much for
keeping the secret until Christmas, which he and Hermione had planned to do.



Ron’s mouth fell open, but no sound escaped. His eyes were wide and bulging, just like his
little sister’s.



“You’re having a baby?” Ginny looked at her mother as if questioning her as well. This was no
surprise to Molly.



“Hermione is,” Harry answered with a smile. “The baby saved her life tonight.” He saw that
Professor Dumbledore had entered the hospital wing and was coming closer to his bed. “You were
right.”



Professor Dumbledore’s eyes were twinkling once again. “Harry, I hear that you performed
amazingly well tonight.”



“It wasn’t just me, Professor. Hermione, the baby, my parents… they were all part of it. I don’t
understand exactly.”



“Then, allow me to explain as best I can,” Dumbledore began. “Harry, Voldemort, marked you his
equal many years ago. Neither of you were from pure blood. Neither of you grew up with parents.
Your magical ability is equal, but you had a power with you that Voldemort never knew… love. Your
parents loved you. The Weasleys love you. Hermione has been by your side since you came into the
wizarding world. You came from love and despite growing up without love, you did not learn to hate.
You did not wish to use your power to hurt others or to dominate them. Your love with Hermione has
created a new life. Your past, present, and future are all shrouded in love. It lives within your
very being. Voldemort could not stand that as he tried to possess you, nor could he overpower the
trinity created in the eternal circle of love surrounding you. Do you understand the power of
three, Harry?”



Harry shook his head. Everyone in the room was listening intently to the headmaster.



“Three is truly a powerful number. It stands for what is sold, real, and complete. In geometry,
the first shape is a triangle. That is because two lines can not form anything that is whole. You
and Voldemort alone could not overpower each other. Three represents the mind, the body, and the
spirit; or thought, word, and deed; or past, present, and future. It is all-encompassing in time,
life, or divinity. Your parents were with you and their charmed rings held onto part of them, they
brought part of your past and your heritage into this fight. Hermione was there, your present, and
carrying your future. All of these together empowered you in a way Voldemort could never understand
or physically tolerate. Because your blood ran in his veins, his life was bound to you and drawing
strength from you. The life force flowing from your parents to yourself to your child destroyed him
from the inside out.”



Harry nodded, still listening.



“Hate in it’s purest form is one-dimensional, a flat power, if you will. Love has many facets
and at this point in your life, Harry, you are embodying them all. Voldemort, who has never known
love, never experienced love, and, most importantly, never loved could not withstand love at it’s
fullest strength. Instead of possessing you and your power as he desired, you were shielded with
such force that he could not escape the magnitude of it, nor could he survive the onslaught of such
a foreign power. Imagine, if you will a Muggle form of cancer and the way it invades and takes over
the body. The love flowing in your veins was like a cancer to Voldemort. Only, as love is
non-tangible, it's power was felt beyond his body and even his spirit was destroyed.”



“I thought I would have to kill him alone.”



“But, Harry, that would be impossible, for you are not alone. You never have been.”



Dumbledore’s words were soft and profound. They settled on Harry as none ever had before. He
could clearly remember the cupboard where he was kept as a child, the birthdays that passed without
so much as a “have a nice day,” the loneliness of primary school as Dudley insured he had no
friends, the ridicule over his hand-me-downs and his broken and re-broken glasses, and summers
without contact with his friends. So often in his life he had thought he was alone, but having just
seen his parents, he realized he’d always felt their presence. It was their love that had kept him
from becoming filled with hate and resentment no matter how the Dursleys treated him.



Harry turned to Mrs. Weasley who had tears brimming in her eyes. Her relief over his safety was
clearly evident. “Mom said to tell you thank you.”



“What do you mean, dear?” She asked, startled by the statement.



“I just saw her. She said to tell you thank you for taking care of me. It was the last thing she
said before I had to come back.”



“You saw her?” Molly choked back a sob and took Harry in a smothering hug. “Oh, Harry,” she
sniffed, holding him tightly. “I couldn’t bear to loose any of my children. I'm so glad
you're still with me.”



“Can’t breathe,” Harry coughed. His adoptive mother let him go and he kissed her cheek.
“Thanks,” he said. “And that one’s from me.” His next question was, “What about Professor Snape?
Did he survive?” It might not have been *avada kedavra*, but Harry knew first hand how much
pain Voldemort could inflict bellowing *crucio* at his enemy. It would make one think he was
dying or wish to die just to escape the pain.



“He’s recovering,” Dumbledore answered, pleased that Harry was showing concern for his most
disliked professor. He was very proud of the growth he had seen in Harry, not just as a wizard, but
as a man.



“Is everyone okay? Hagrid? Lupin? Tonks? The other houses? Did everyone in the DA survive?”



“I lost count of injuries,” Madame Pomfrey answered. “Some close calls. Many students, aurors,
and professors have been treated and released. Some are still recovering. Very few casualties given
what happened here.”



“Luna,” Ron sighed. “She’s out cold. It wasn’t even magic that got her… a bookcase in the
Ravenclaw common room was toppled and it landed right on her. But her bones are healed.”



“She’ll be fine,” the nurse said, patting his shoulder and holding back a smile. “Professors
McGonagall and Sprout and some of the other students who were hurt have been taken to St. Mungo’s.
We don’t expect any more casualties.”



“Did anyone die?” Harry asked, looking to the headmaster. “Define *very few*.”



“Some of the aurors,” Dumbledore replied. “Moody, Shakelbolt, Herring, Clarke.”



The room was silent as everyone accepted the news. Ron and Ginny both looked particularly
disheartened. Harry was having trouble believing the losses were so few.



“Overall,” Dumbledore continued, “Things went very well. By trapping the Death Eaters under our
own conditions, we had the upper hand. All of the professors were aware that I was not really
leaving and we could expect trouble. No students were killed. Almost 30 Death Eaters were captured
or killed. Most importantly, Voldemort is no more. We will grieve our losses, but we must take
comfort in knowing they died for what is right and they have helped ensure a freedom this world has
not known in decades. They would want us to celebrate and that is exactly what we are going to
do.”



“How can we celebrate at a time like this?” Harry asked, thinking about the losses, injuries,
and destruction.



“How could we not celebrate?” Dumbledore replied. “You've freed us, Harry. We can live
without fear because you choose a different path than Voldemort. Remember, it is our choices that
make us who we are, not our abilities.”



The words reminded Harry of another time he had faced the Dark Lord and survived, plagued with
confusion and doubts about himself.



Dumbledore looked to Hermione. “I know Mrs. Potter will be thrilled when she awakens to find you
safe. You've got yourself a brave and wonderful wife, Harry.”



Harry nodded. “I know. She's amazing.”



“Our whole world will be lining up to celebrate your marriage. I believe a full fledge grand
event is in order. After all, they think you are marrying on October 1. We mustn't disappoint
the masses. I believe everyone will be well recovered by then and it will be a perfect time and
excuse for us to come together over your victory and our freedom. Until she awakens, I want you to
rest. You've been through an incredible ordeal tonight. I must go to St. Mungo's to check
on the other students and professors and I should drop by the Ministry and help Author with the
details. I'll see you all soon.” With a swish of his robes, Dumbledore turned and left the
infirmary.



“Okay, you heard the man,” Molly began. “Harry needs to rest. Hermione will be asleep for a few
more hours. Ms. Lovegood needs some peace and quiet. I want you two to go back to your dorms. No
arguing,” she warned sternly.



Knowing better than to put up much protest, the Weasley children did as they were told, ensuring
Harry that they would be back first thing in the morning.



Harry realized how correct Dumbledore was about his need for rest. He reached across the bed to
the one beside him and stroked Hermione's hair. “I'll be here when you wake up,” he told
her. Soon, he was asleep again too, and for the first time in years, there were no nightmares
lurking in his subconscious.























42. Petunias Letter
-------------------

Harry took the bookbag that Ron offered him. “You’re spending too much time with Hermione,
mate,” Ron joked.



Dumbledore had decided that Harry and Hermione should be kept in the infirmary for at least 48
hours of observation, so both had become rather antsy. Hermione had calmed down from her euphoria
of finding out Harry was still alive and well and both were sitting on his bed. They had been
talking quietly to not disturb the other patient, namely Professor Snape, who was still recovering
from Voldemort’s curse. He would wake up sneering at Poppy and she would give him a good dose of
some medicine the Potions Master had made himself. Then he would drift into a quiet sleep
again.



“Thanks,” Harry told him. Don’t worry. I have no intention of studying.” At this pronouncement,
Hermione looked scandalized. “Well, I don’t,” he shrugged. “We just went through hell and back.
Charms can wait.”



“If you’re not guaranteed all O’s when NEWTS come around, there’s no justice,” Ron added. “It’ll
be smooth sailing from now on. I mean, you defeated You-Know-Who. That’s got to count for
something.”



“He had some help,” Hermione interjected with a smile.



“Why are you still calling him You Know Who?” Harry asked, rolling his eyes.



“Old habits,” Ron shrugged. “You’ll get all O’s too, Hermione. So will Junior.”



“It’s a little early to be predicting the baby’s grades, don’t you think?” Hermione asked,
glaring at him. She had already had it out with Ron about calling the child “Junior” which only
made him use the nickname more every chance he got. “I don’t think we’ll get any special
treatment,” she said meekly.



Harry looked at her, “Oh, that’s what you think! You’re now the Girl Who Lived!” he laughed,
emphasizing the title. He pushed her bangs off her forehead. “Hmmm, no scar. Oh well, I’m sure
they’ll find some other way to identify you and report your every move in the *Daily
Prophet*.”



Hermione straightened her hair while considering her new nickname. Harry unzipped the bag and
retrieved his aunt’s letter. He had put it there for safekeeping after they got back from the
memorial service. He had intended to read it that night, but had been otherwise occupied since they
arrived.



“What’s that?” Ron asked, seeing the white envelope.



“Aunt Petunia left a letter for me,” he explained.



“Oh,” Ron said bitterly. He fully expected the woman to have found a way to berate Harry from
beyond the grave. “I think you should just toss it. She never said a decent thing to you while you
were alive, so there’s no point in listening to her now.”



Harry was grateful that Ron was being protective of him. Sometimes he was not sure what to
expect from Ron. He could be very jealous at times, but very loyal too.



“You mean deny the woman her dying wish? I can’t do that, even if it is just to tell me what a
worthless freak I am one last time.” He tried to make light of it, but truly hated to open the
envelope and see what Petunia had to say.



“Read it out loud,” Hermione told him, sounding almost motherly. She could already tell that
Harry was slipping into the darkened place that the Dursleys’ verbal abuse had created for him.



Harry nodded and opened the envelope. He unfolded the white stationery and began to read,
“Harry, I can only assume that if you’re reading this, it means I have met an untimely death. I’ve
struggled for days over this, ever since Vernon was sent back here with word that we were no longer
your guardians. I admit that I was very glad to be rid of you.”



“What a bitch,” Ron commented, irritated. “Just throw it away, Harry.” He reached for the
letter, but Harry wouldn't let him snatch it away.

Harry paused a moment, but continued to read. “But something in me changed that night Vernon
nearly killed you. I can not forgive myself for walking away from you when you begged me to help
you. I realized later that we were not ‘rid’ of you. You had been taken from us because, quite
honestly, we were not fit to have you. I don’t know how I ever became what I am today. I did not
think of myself as a cruel person, but I realize now that is exactly what I was. Even if I wasn’t
the one who beat you, I let Vernon and Dudley treat you poorly. I joined them. We starved you and
kept you in that god-forsaken cupboard. We failed to treat you as a human being.” Harry took a deep
breath and put the letter down. He once more felt over-exposed, not wanting to be reminded of how
he felt as a child while in Ron and Hermione’s presence.



Hermione took the letter from him and skimmed it, picking up where he left off. “We failed to
treat you as a human being. We failed to treat you as well as Marge even treats her dogs. The thing
is, Harry, I don’t even have a good reason. I guess I thought I could justify it because I hated my
sister for being different and I hated you by extension. I think she one-upped me my whole life. I
made the honors classes at school. She got accepted to Hogwarts. I met Vernon and got engaged. She
brought home your father. I had a baby boy. She had a baby boy. Instead of enjoying having a
sister, I was bitter and I resented her and I hated her for getting killed and leaving me with you,
her little freak offspring.” Hermione winced as she read the sentence, knowing it was cutting right
into Harry’s heart.



“This is her way of apologizing?” Ron asked incredulously, shaking his head with disbelief.
“Bitch,” he repeated.



“I think you’ve read enough,” Harry interjected, feeling dejected, and wishing he’d taken Ron’s
advice in the first place.



But Hermione kept going, “I should have been grateful for the chance to raise another child. I
should have seen you for the special person you are.”



“Did she just call me a *person*?” Harry asked, looking up.



“Yes,” Hermione answered, angry that this came as such a shock to her husband. If not for her
tact, she would have repeated what Ron had already called the woman a couple of times. She
continued, “Harry, I’m sorry I treated you so poorly simply because I did not understand you. I’m
sorry I did not take the opportunity to understand and love you. I’m sorry I did not protect you
from Vernon and Dudley and I’m sorry I went along with the years of abuse and neglect we put you
through. I regret so deeply that I became the person I am today. I hope one day you will find it in
your heart to forgive me. Love, Aunt Petunia.”



Hermione folded the letter and gave it back to Harry. He opened it just to see if she really had
signed the word *love*. He knew the woman did not really love him, never had, and never
would.



“Well, that was… nice,” Ron commented sourly.



“It’s better than I expected,” Harry shrugged. He was still astounded that Petunia had referred
to him as a *person*.



“Which is a shame,” Professor Snape said, surprising them all that he was awake and not
complaining.



Harry’s first instinct was to ask if the professor had been listening, but realized quickly that
answer was obvious. “How are you feeling?” he asked instead, refusing to get into a fight over his
privacy. He had, after all, just allowed Hermione to read the letter aloud in the hospital
wing.



“Like a Death Eater warmed over,” Snape answered dryly.



Harry, Hermione, and Ron exchanged glances, wondering if it were possible that Severus Snape had
just made a joke. He had a sense of humor?



“Um, do you need anything?” Hermione asked, the first one to regain control of her voice.



“Out of here,” he answered.



“Good luck with that,” Harry told him. “Hermione and I are perfectly fine and being kept for
observation.”



“That’s reasonable,” Snape told them. “Given that you just had an encounter with the Dark Lord,
I’m sure you were nearly killed *again* and Mrs. Potter should take all precautions... for
other reasons.”



“*He* knows about Junior?” Ron asked, more shocked by this news than by the news of the
baby itself. “He knew before me?”



“He knew before we did,” Harry answered.



“Stop calling him Junior!” Hermione snapped.



“Him?” Harry asked.



“Or her,” she shrugged.



“Junior Weasley works either way,” Ron argued.



“Weasley?” Harry asked, confused.



“My parents adopted you. That kid is a Weasley.”



“Potter-Weasley, maybe.” Harry shrugged, wondering if the Weasleys did expect him to take their
name once the adoption was out in the open. He didn't want to disappoint them, but he did not
want to dishonor his own parents either.



“Granger-Potter-Weasley,” Hermione corrected. “If we're going to get silly about it,
let's go all the way.” Harry supposed that answered how Hermione felt about him hyphenating his
name.



“Junior Granger-Potter-Weasley,” Ron smiled. “I like that a lot.”



“Stop calling him Junior!” Hermione barked again.



“I’m going to be sick,” Professor Snape announced. Ron quickly took him a bedpan, but the
potions master pushed it away. “That was sarcasm.”



“Oh,” Ron said, his ears turning pink. “I’ll just go back to Harry and Hermione.” He found both
his friends snickering softly. “Oh shut it, you two.”



“Potter!” Snape called, making Harry feel like he did when he was caught off guard in potions
class.



“Yes, sir?” He turned to face the professor across the room. He wondered if somehow he was doing
something wrong by joking around with his friends.



“Good job.” Snape nodded his head approvingly.



“Thank you, sir.” Harry was stunned. In that moment, he realized that all these years that no
matter how much he had loathed the man, he had always wanted his approval. “It was Hermione, the
baby...”



“It was you, Potter,” Snape corrected. “No one could have taken your place. No one else has
faced that monster the way you have time and again and lived to tell, much less defeated him.”



“Um,” Harry glanced at his wife, unwilling to take all the credit for Voldemort's
demise.



“He's right, Harry,” she said. “You fulfilled your destiny. *Your* choices in life made
all the difference. I only got lucky enough to be taken along for the ride.”



“Lucky?” Harry laughed. “Knowing me is hardly—“



“Shut up!” she said, and she covered his lips with her own, kissing him briefly, to keep him
from degrading himself again. “If you don't stop putting yourself down all the time, I'll,
I'll,” she paused. Exactly what could she do the the most powerful wizard alive? She leaned in
and whispered in his ear so Ron nor the professor could hear. “I'll hold out on you,” she
teased wickedly.



Harry's expression fell and he began to laugh. “On second thought, I'm actually a pretty
awesome guy.”



“That's better,” Hermione giggled. “I really want to get out here.”



“We want out,” Harry said loudly.



Madame Pomfrey came bustling out of her office. “Be quiet!” she ordered. “You’ll wake—“



“I want out too,” Snape said, cutting her off. His black eyes were piercing.



“You are all recovering,” she huffed. “Now be quiet. Young lady, get out of that bed!” she said
to Hermione, finding her with Harry. The two of them were going to send her into early
retirement.



“Okay,” Hermione said, “I will if we can leave. And if we can’t, then, then I’m going to sic
Harry on you! He can take you, you know! Don’t think for one minute he can’t get us out of here.
Did you see him kick Voldemort's ass?” she asked, stunning the nurse. “Well, I did and—“



“Hermione!” Harry gasped. That outburst was so unlike her. “Don't get so worked up!”



“But I want to go home!” she suddenly whined, tears brimming in her eyes. “I want to see my
mother and father and sister and tell them everything is okay. Why haven't they come to see me
today?” she asked, resting her head against Harry's shoulder and crying.



“I'm not sure,” Harry said, rubbing her back reassuringly. “I'm sure they're fine.
Maybe they're busy.” He looked at Ron who just shrugged.



“It’s not up to me,” the nurse said apologetically. “Professor Dumbledore will let you know when
you can leave.”



“But he’s not a mediwizard,” Harry argued.”How does he know when we'll be ready to leave?
Besides, there's nothing wrong with us.”



“He’s the boss,” she said. “And don't even think of sneaking out because he put up wards to
protect you all from your own hard heads.” All of the patients were taken aback at this bit of news
and Ron smirked. “He has your best interest at heart.”



“Why, that--” Snape was cut off as the nurse continued speaking.



“But, Hermione, dear, if you're not feeling well, I can get you something for,” she
hesitated, “mood swings. It's perfectly normal for you to be having these mixed feelings right
now.”



“You're really a very good mediwitch,” Hermione said, dabbing at her eyes. “I'm sorry I
snapped. I didn't mean to.”



“It's quite all right, dear. But I'll give you something to help balance those hormones.
I'm not sure Minerva would take it so well if you blew up at her in the middle of class.” She
turned to Professor Snape. “Do you need anything for pain?”



“I’m perfectly fine, but tired of being here. I need to check on my house to see who’s
left.”



“None of them were killed,” Harry told him, realizing Snape had not been awake when they got a
report on how things had turned out in the battle.



“That doesn’t mean none of them have left the school,” Snape clarified.



“True,” Harry replied, saddened that some of the students would leave or their parents would
remove them because the Voldemort had been defeated. He knew that those who were secretly
supporting Voldemort would find a way to continue to support the Dark Arts. He knew that he and
Dumbledore would never be rid of enemies. Life would never be simple. Despite that, life was
looking pretty good right now.



They passed the hours of the afternoon in an odd calm. They were surprised that no one other
than Ron had come to see them that day. Hermione took her potion and said she felt more like
herself within a half an hour. Somehow the hostility between Snape and the Gryffindor Trio had
vanished as their true unity against evil had been revealed. After beating Harry at wizard’s chess
twice, Ron was challenged to a game by the bored professor. Ron’s intimidation alone made for a
very short-lived competition, but Harry and Hermione watched, both amazed by what they were
witnessing. If there had been any doubt left in their minds, the mere sight of Ron playing chess
with Snape demonstrated that things had truly changed at Hogwarts and in their world.



About a quarter until 6:00 that evening, Madame Pomfrey came out of her office again and
announced that Dumbledore had sent word that the patients could all be released and were expected
to go straight to the Great Hall so they would not miss dinner. Hermione complained that she wanted
to change into some decent clothes and Harry shook his head. “Not a problem,” he said,
transfiguring her gown into a clean, well-fitting school uniform with just a few words.



Hermione looked at her new robes, a simple thing reminding her that Harry was still the powerful
wizard who had just defeated the Dark Lord. “Can you fix my hair?” she asked wryly, twirling an
strand.



Harry simply waved his hand and, in seconds, Hermione’s hair was pulled back and smooth in a
pony-tail.



“Uh-huh,” Hermione said, touching the top of her head to feel her smoothed locks. “Now fix your
hair.”



“Merlin couldn’t fix my hair,” Harry laughed. He transfigured his own clothes into a school
uniform.



“Why couldn’t you do that when my mother bought me a pink dress robe with a lace collar?” Ron
asked, still taken aback at the things Harry could do so easily and without a wand to direct his
energy. If anything, he seemed more powerful now that Voldemort was gone than he ever had
before.



“It was not pink,” Hermione reminded him, feeling the urge to defend his mother since she had
done the best she could.



“Might as well have been,” Ron shrugged.



“This ability might come in handy soon,” Hermione commented, looking at her reflection in a
mirror. She was still not showing, but knew that was just a matter of time. She flattened her skirt
against her stomach. “I better enjoy this flat tummy while it lasts.”



Professor Snape came from behind the curtain that was drawn around his bed wearing the clothes
he had had on the night of the attack. No one had thought to bring any of them a change.



“Harry can fix those for you,” Ron said in an unusually brave moment. He then realized he had
crossed a line and looked down at the floor as if the tiles were the most interesting thing he had
seen all day.



Harry’s eyes bulged, embarrassed and very aware that the professor would not accept any help
from him.



Snape sneered at first, “I can transfigure my own clothes if we must rush straight to the Great
Hall. Poppy, where’s my wand?”



“It was broken, Severus,” she answered. “The destruction in the dorms was unbelievable,” she
added, shaking her head. Hogwarts had looked like a tornado went through the campus after the
attack.



“Then, I’ll just go to my quarters and change,” he said, proudly. He then looked at Harry and
softened. “Of course, you do owe me a favor or two.”



Harry was fleetingly irritated, then realized that the professor was simply asking for help in
the friendliest way he could muster. “True,” he responded. “So, what are you in the mood for today?
Basic black? Midnight blue? Plaid?” He smiled as the man glared, “Kidding.” In a moment, the
professor was in new black robes just as he usually wore.



“Thank you, Mr. Potter.”



The Trio, professor and nurse all made their way to the Great Hall. It would have been
impossible to notice that things were different on campus. It was evident that portions of the
castle had been destroyed because they now looked entirely too new for such an old building. Magic
could easily repair the damages to the structure, but it would never look as though it had been
untouched.



“Does it seem kind of quiet to you?” Hermione asked as they approached the doors to the Great
Hall. “I wonder if a lot of kids did leave? Or if some are still at St. Mungo's?”



“I doubt it,” Ron replied. “They work really fast there.”



Harry pushed open one of the doors and was astounded by what greeted him. The entire student
body and the professors were standing and waiting on their arrival. The tables were laid out in a
glorious feast that would rival anything he had ever seen at the school before. As soon as
Dumbledore spotted him, he began to clap, and soon everyone had joined in making a thunderous
noise. Even those left at the Slytherin table were applauding their arrival. A crowd of house elves
were standing along the wall, unusually out in the open for all to see as they cheered.



Ron darted off to the end of the Gryffindor table to join his housemates in cheering on his best
friends. To the right of the head table, a special table had been set up and Hermione's family
and the Weasleys were all there, waiting for the couple to join them. Molly was beaming with pride
and Jane had happy tears in her eyes. To the left, another table had been added for aurors from the
Ministry and members of the Order and the press.



Harry caught Hagrid's eye and smiled, grateful to see that his first friend was alive and
well. He saw that Professor McGonagall looked positively gleeful and almost as proud as Molly
Weasley. Remus Lupin nodded and Harry knew that his father was looking down on them at that
moment.



Blushing slightly at the attention, Harry took Hermione's hand in his own and led her to the
front of the room, receiving whistles, cheers, and pats on the back the entire way. They were
embraced by their family and soon Ron was with them again while Professor Snape had taken his usual
seat with the other staff members.



“You knew about this?” Hermione asked him, waving her hand at the surroundings.



“Yep,” Ron nodded and smiled broadly. He had been given the task of keeping the two of them
occupied while the celebratory feast was prepared.



Dumbledore clinked his a fork against his crystal goblet to ask for silence. Everyone stopped
clapping and returned to their seats, waiting for him to make a speech, just as he would at a
Welcoming Feast.



“Thank you,” he said, as he had gained everyone's attention. “Yes, *thank you,*” he
emphasized the words. “It barely seems enough, but, that is what we are here to do.” He looked
directly at Harry. “We are here to thank you, Mr. Potter.”



Hermione squeezed his hand.



“You have, once again, freed our world from the most evil of influences.”



“It wasn't just me,” Harry said meekly. “Hermione and... others helped too. And it was
*your* plan and our families and friends were right there beside us.”



Dumbledore held up his hand to silence the teen. “Harry, you know as well as I do that *only
you* had the power to defeat Voldemort. I would like to elaborate a bit, if you will oblige an
old man to speak freely. Please, everyone, relax, for the first time in decades we can relax.
I'd like to tell you a story.”



Harry shrugged and led Hermione to the table. They sat between Molly and Jane.



Dumbledore started at the beginning of Tom Riddle's rise to power and briefly recounted the
history. He revealed the prophecy to awestruck gasps and heads shaking in disbelief as students and
guests alike realized that one in their midst was so powerful. He recounted the plots the students
themselves had witnessed without always realizing that Voldemort was still working to kill the
child he had failed to murder as a baby. He chastised the press and the Ministry for doubting Harry
and making the path of freedom for them all more difficult.



“Choices,” Dumbledore said. Everyone was captivated by his wisdom and the truth he spoke. “We
all have choices. Life can be hard and we all have decisions to make. You can let the circumstances
you're given destroy your heart, or you can learn to hold onto what is good. You can choose to
be what is good. Harry Potter is an example for us all. No matter how powerful he is, his true
strength is found in his heart. Harry, we raise our goblets to you.” Dumbledore lifted his glass
and the others followed suit. “To Harry Potter.”



Harry was thoroughly embarrassed, but somehow pleased that the truth— most of it anyway— was
out.



Hermione leaned over to kiss his cheek, “I love you,” she whispered.



“I love you too.” He looked around the table. “All of you.”



Dumbledore once again silenced the indebted crowd. “Throughout Harry's life at Hogwarts, Ms.
Hermione Granger has been by his side. As you are all well aware from recent press, there will be a
wedding in just a few days. I think the very least we, as a community, can do is to create the
biggest celebration the wizarding world has ever seen. We will honor Harry and Hermione for their
part in defeating evil and we will celebrate their marriage. Tonight, I want you all to eat, drink,
and be merry. And I will see you all again soon for the wedding of the century.”



43. Part 43 Attack of the Plot Bunny
------------------------------------

*Hello, dear readers! This was *supposed* to be the wedding chapter, but I was viciously
attacked by plot bunnies demanding that I write this. They hopped off with the chapter I’ve started
about the wedding and refuse to relinquish it. It will be next, barring further bunny attacks. If
you’re still mad about the delay, then blame Keith Urban because I’ve been dashing around the
Southeast for concerts!* *J Hmmm… Keith or Harry? Keith or Harry… Keith wins!*

Harry turned to Ginny and Ron who had told them to meet in the Common Room. “What’s up?” he
asked.

“Hermione, you’re supposed to come with me,” Ginny said very seriously. “And, Harry, you have to
go with Ron. They’re still working on repairing some damages to the castle and the Room of
Requirement won’t let anyone in. Dumbledore thought that, perhaps, it might respond to you.”

“That’s certainly odd,” Harry said. “It lets anyone in.” That it did so had caused them trouble
before.

“What am I supposed to do?” Hermione asked. “I could help Harry.”

“No,” Ginny argued. “Professor McGonagall needs you in the Transfiguration classroom. I don’t
know why. She just asked me to come get you when my class finished.” The fifth years had had
Transfiguration as their last class of the day. Classes had resumed just five days after the
attacks since most of the students and teachers who had been injured were healed by then.

“Okay,” Hermione shrugged. “Let’s go then. I’ll see you later, Harry. Bye, Ron.”

Harry followed his red haired best friend to the Room of Requirement. The hallway was deserted.
“Shouldn’t there be someone here to fix it if I can get in?” he asked.

“Dunno,” Ron mumbled. “Maybe they want you to fix it. It’s not like you’d need anyone’s help. I
guess the Death Eaters jinxed it or something.”

Harry had no trouble getting into the room and was beginning to wonder what everyone else’s
problem had been just as he was startled by a roar of “Surprise!”

He barely stopped himself from hexing the two boys closest to him, “Don’t do that!” he
exclaimed, catching his breath. “Ron, I don’t think telling me Death Eaters jinxed the room was the
smartest idea. I nearly annihilated the Creevy brothers,” he laughed. The blinding light of Colin’s
camera had only added to his self-protective response.

Dennis and Colin were not quite as amused at how close they came to being hexed by Harry Potter,
but took it in stride. It was bound to make a good entry for Colin’s diary of hero-worship.

Harry was soon flanked by the Weasley twins, “Happy bachelor party, little brother.” George told
him, handing him a tankard. “Here, have a butterbeer.”

“From you?” Harry asked, skeptically. “I don’t think so.” He gave the drink to Dean who was the
closest target.

“I don’t want it!” Dean said, passing it off to Seamus.

Fred put his fist to his heart, “I’m crushed. We merely wanted to celebrate your impending
nuptials with a hearty toast.”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded. “Constant vigilance with you two.” As he said this, Seamus poured the
contents into a potted plant that appeared just as he needed a place to dump the suspicious drink.
The plant turned purple and started smoking.

Harry looked to the twins. “Hearty toast, is it?”

“Who knew butterbeer could do that to a fern?” George said innocently, shrugging.

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate it, but why are you giving me a *bachelor* party?” Harry
asked Arthur Weasley as he approached.

“Any excuse will do,” he answered. “Jubilance is in the air.” The entire wizarding community had
been celebrating non stop for days—except at Hogwarts where the students had begrudgingly tried to
get back into their regular schedules.

“Especially around the Weasley house,” Bill said. “Tell them, Dad!”

“Tell us what?” Ron asked.

“Oh, it’s… it’s nothing,” he replied, giving a stern look to his eldest.

“Nothing?” George repeated. “Right. It’s nothing. Dad’s only been selected as the new Minister
of Magic!” he exclaimed.

“I thought there had to be an election,” Neville broke in.

“Well, there does, if anyone was running against him. But Dumbledore refuses to run and he
selected Dad as a good candidate. No one is going to argue with him now. So, there’s no competition
and Dad will be Minster for real in no time.”

“That’s awesome!” Harry exclaimed at the same time Ron declared that it was “Brilliant!”

Arthur blushed slightly at the attention. “It’s not official yet, boys.”

“So, when does a veela jump from a cake?” Ron asked.

“Maybe at your bachelor party,” Lupin told him. “There’s a reason you guys are being
chaperoned.”

“That bites,” Dean complained. “No girls, no strippers. The man just saved us from You Know Who.
That warrants at least one half-naked woman dancing around the room.”

“I won’t tell Hermione you said that,” Harry laughed, knowing good and well how angry it would
make her if there had been a scantily clad female at his party. Her reaction would be even worse
thanks to her fluctuating hormones. He realized he may have been the only one at his party who did
not mind the absence of female entertainment. “Is she having a party right now too?” he asked.

Indeed, Hermione had been led to her own surprise bridal shower.

She opened the door to the classroom and called, “Profess—er?” Her tone changed to a question
mid word as she saw dozens of girls from all the houses and a stack of presents. “What’s going
on?”

“It’s your shower, of course!” Lavendar Brown announced.

“A shower?” Hermione repeated, stunned. She was not a very popular among the females at Hogwarts
and had not expected any fuss to be made over her wedding.

“We can’t have the wedding of the century without the shower of the century beforehand, can we?”
Hannah Abbott told her, taking Hermione’s hand and leading her to the front of the room. House
elves had set up a table full of finger foods and another table was full of beautifully wrapped
gifts.

“But,” Hermione stuttered. “I… no one has ever done anything like this for me before.” Even her
birthdays came and went with no fan fare from her roommates. She told herself it was only because
of the groom that she was getting this attention.

“That’s because you’ve never gotten married before,” Padma Patil said.

Hermione simply smiled thinking *Sure, I have*, to herself. She exchanged a knowing look
with Professor McGonagall.

“You have to sit here,” Pavarti said, pointing to an elaborate throne at the front of the
room.

Hermione started laughing when she saw it, “You can’t be serious!”

“Oh, but we are serious,” Luna told her in her dreamy voice that sounded anything but serious.
“You’re the queen for a day. Or, queen for a couple of days. At least until the wedding is
over.”

“I can’t wait to see what Professor Dumbledore has planned for the wedding!” Lavendar giggled.
“I bet it will be amazing!”

“Yeah, it’ll be even better than the first one,” Ginny added. She gasp, and slapped her hand
over her mouth. She looked at Hermione with wide eyes as she bit her lower lip.

“First one?” Luna repeated.

“I’m sorry,” Ginny squeaked while Hermione looked on, dumbstruck.

“Ms.Weasley!” Professor McGonagall croaked.

“Ginevra!” Molly Weasley exclaimed, fire in her eyes.

“Oh, it’s all right, I guess,” Hermione patted Ginny’s arm. “I mean, now that Voldemort is gone,
it doesn’t really matter if they know, right?” It amazed her that people still flinched at his
name.

“I suppose not,” Professor McGonagall acquiesced, her expression softening.

“So, there was another wedding?” Hannah inquired.

“Well, yeah,” Hermione told them. “Harry and I got married almost two months ago. It was all
part of Dumbledore’s plan.”

“So was that stuff about his relatives true?” Jessie Keith, a fifth year Hufflepuff asked.

“Oh, yes,” she answered, her eyes flashing with anger at the thought of those horrible Dursleys
and everything they had done to Harry through the years. “The way they treated Harry—“ she stopped
herself, knowing he would not want her to discuss it. “Well, a lot of things worked out at once
leading us to know it was the best thing to do and the best time to do it.” She was sure revealing
Voldemort’s plan to murder Harry via a sacrifice was not the route to take with this conversation.
“We were going to set the record straight soon. Things have just been so hectic the past few days.
Dumbledore really wants to give us an elaborate wedding since the first one was so rushed. Don’t
get me wrong, it was beautiful, and it was perfect, but it was also very secretive. Even Ron’s
brothers weren’t allowed to be there because we had to keep it a secret from Voldemort, and the
fewer people who knew, the better. This time we’ll get to have all our family and friends around
us.”

“But why did you get married before now?” Jessie asked. Like many of the other girls, she did
not understand the rush since they knew nothing about the situation other than Harry’s need to be
emancipated from his abusive guardians.

Hermione sighed. “It’s a very long story and it all was part of the plan to lure Voldemort to
attack under our conditions. I don’t want to get into it,” she said. “If Dumbledore sees fit to
explain, he will. Otherwise, maybe your kids will read about it in History of Magic.”

“And there’s no need to get into it now, Dear,” Molly said, taking her arm and leading her to
the throne. “Let’s just focus on having a good time.”

“I’m sorry,” Ginny said again, sheepishly. Hermione smiled at her, assuring her that there was
no harm done.

“Well, I’m glad you’re going to have the big wedding,” Susan Bones told her. “It only seems
right that we all get to be there for you guys.” She turned to the crowd of girls, “Okay, so was
there anyone here who did not think that Harry and Hermione would wind up together?”

Ashley Timmons, a seventh year Ravenclaw, raised her hand and shyly admitted, “Me. I thought
Hermione and Ron would wind up together because they argue all the time. You know… URST.”

“URST?” Professor McGonagall repeated.

“Unresolved Sexual Tension,” Ashley shrugged, blushing deep scarlet.

“Ewwwww!” Hermione squealed, then blushed herself when she realized Ron’s mother was still
standing next to her. “Ron’s like my brother!” she quickly covered. “He treats me just like he does
Ginny.”

“Yep, he’s a big pain in the—“

“Ginevra!” Molly growled. She was not as quick to forgive as her daughter-in-law was.

Deciding she would do better to keep her mouth shut for a while, Ginny went to the refreshment
table to pour herself a cup of punch.

“I always knew that Harry and Hermione would be together,” Luna said dreamily. She had been even
more flighty since Ron had approached her at breakfast one morning and told her how happy he was
that she was all right and she recovered from her injuries. The girl was simply floating around
Hogwarts with a smile plastered on her pretty face while she hummed “Weasley is Our King” over and
over again.

Hermione opened each present as it was given to her and a charmed quick notes quill wrote out a
thank you card based on her reaction to each present. She noted that it was easier than the Muggle
way.

When Hermione had finished unwrapping all the trinkets, household goods, and lingerie that she
was given, Lavendar and Pavarti gathered all the ribbons and put them in a circle on the
floor.


“What are you doing?” Hermione asked, puzzled.

“Divination!” Pavarti answered excitedly as she and the other girl sat across from one another
and joined hands over the pile of ribbons.

Professor McGonagall made a soft “hmph” sound as she watched her students attempt such
nonsense.

“We all have to be very quiet,” Lavendar told them. “The spirits will guide us to predict your
future.”

“Thanks, but, we’ve had enough predictions, I think,” Hermione told them nervously. She was not
sure she wanted the weight of another prediction on her heart since some had shown themselves to be
true.

“It’s just for fun, sweetheart,” Molly told her with a smile. Everyone fell into a hush as they
watched the two girls seated on the floor. “The ribbons represent all the blessings and well wishes
of your friends and family. It offers protection and a bit of fun to see what they can tell
us.”

“Well, it never hurts to have some protection,” Hermione said. She had come to firmly believe in
the wards offered by magical ceremonies.

“Shhhh!” Lavendar shushed her. “We have to connect with the spirits.”

Hermione nodded, all the while remaining hopefully skeptical. She listened to the two
Gryffindors hum and chant an incantation, then a white ribbon suddenly flew into the air between
them and formed the number 7.

Lavendar squealed. “Oh my Merlin, Hermione! You’re going to have seven children!”

Hermione’s eyes bulged. “I think not,” she replied, causing a fit of giggling.

“A wonderful number,” Molly gushed, thrilled with the prospect of more grandchildren.

The girls started chanting another incantation and soon a yellow ribbon floated into the air and
formed the shape of a fish. “Oh, that’s good,” Pavarti exclaimed. “You’ll make your decisions
wisely.”

Hermione listened, wanting to believe that was possible, but then telling herself that anything
could be possible or likely to happen if they set themselves up to believe it.

“Okay, now for your love life,” Pavarti said, as she took Lavendar’s hand again. In a few
moments, a badger similar to that of the Hufflepuff symbol was floating between them. “Oooo…” said
Hannah from the spectators. “That means your love life will be characterized by strength and
passion.”

Hermione grinned rather stupidly and tried to bite her lip to keep from looking so devilishly
happy.

“Well, is it?” Ginny asked unashamed, as another moment of bravery took over, despite her
mother’s presence in the room.

Hermione began to laugh and hated herself.

“Hermione!” Ginny exclaimed. “You’re holding out on me!”

“Well,” Hermione started sheepishly, “Harry *is* a very powerful wizard,” she shrugged
thinking back to the conversation she had had with Ginny at the soda shop in Diagon Alley while
leading on Rita Skeeter.

Ginny and most of the other girls shrieked piercingly at this announcement while Molly covered
her ears, closed her eyes, and declared, “I don’t need to hear this.”

“Oh, he’ll kill me if he finds out I said that!” Hermione blushed, covering her hands with her
face.

“Honey, he is a man,” Professor McGonagall told her dryly, “I doubt he would mind so much that
you’re bragging on him.”

“Professor!” Ginny squeaked, completely shocked by the turn of the conversation.

“Oh, he’ll really kill me if he finds out I was talking about it with you and Mrs. Weasley!” she
groaned, wanting to bury herself into the cushions of her throne.

Mrs. Weasley took her hands off her ears as she heard her name, opened her eyes and saw how red
Hermione was and covered her ears again, “I don’t need to hear this.” She started humming.

“Back to the game!” Lavendar announced, helping Hermione get her mind off how embarrassed she
currently felt.

“I think we’ve found out enough,” Hermione whispered. “No one can tell Harry what I just said!
Or I’ll hex you. I can do it too!” she threatened through her laughter.

The next floating ribbon formed an hourglass and the girls in the room who were familiar with
tradition all “Ahh”’d at the sight.

“What does that mean?” Jessie asked.

“Eternal love,” Padma sighed. “Hermione and Harry are bound forever, beyond this life, and into
eternity.”

“Well, I didn’t need a ribbon to tell you that,” Hermione announced proudly with a smile
lighting up her eyes.

“No, I guess you didn’t,” Molly agreed. “I guess you didn’t.”