Sweet Home London

Author’s note: Well, here it is the first chapter. I’m not going to go too much into detail here about what the story entails; you’ll just have to read to find out. The first chapter does start out just a short time after the ending of the events in Circle of Friends. This story will be based loosely on the film “Sweet Home Alabama.” The first chapters are going to be warm and fuzzy ones…I think ya’ll deserve it after what I put you through with the last one! I hope you like this one. Please read and review! I am addicted to them and am seriously seeking help for this problem as we speak.

Chapter One

Scenes from a Holiday: Happiness

Just as the hubbub about the whole Harry-Ginny-Draco fiasco was dying down, the wizarding press had another media blitz waiting to take its place. The soap opera that was the life of Harry Potter had closed one chapter and opened up another that was proving just as intriguing as the last.

Despite every effort to keep it hush-hush, news of the engagement of the boy who lived to his best girl spread like wildfire in the wizarding world. Luckily, Harry and Hermione weren’t around to experience most of the speculation, gossip and rumors. As planned, they embarked on their year-long holiday the day after their graduation from Hogwarts.

Rumors were running rampant about the reasons behind the engagement. Was Hermione pregnant? Had she used a love potion to snag the young man of her dreams? Their friends and family weren’t talking. This didn’t stop The Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly from running articles each day from “anonymous sources” and “acquaintances” who claimed to know when and where the nuptials would take place.

The actual truth was that no one knew when and where the nuptials would occur, let alone Harry and Hermione. As the publicity storm whirled back at home, they were busy enjoying sand, sun and fun in Hawaii. Best of all, no one recognized them. No one came forward and asked for an autograph. On the island, they were just two young tourists.

They’d been in Hawaii for two weeks. Hermione never knew how much fun having fun could actually be. There was no deadline, there were no assignments looming over their heads. There was just the two of them and there was all the time in the world. It was a little piece of heaven right on earth.

They hadn’t made love, yet but not for lack of opportunity. It had been difficult enough to adhere to their promise back at Hogwarts. Yet, Hogwarts had nothing on the romantic setting that was Hawaii. Beautiful oceans, sandy beaches, sunsets and midnight strolls along the beach were enough to make even the most cynical person become romantic. Both their resolves were weakening with each day.

One Thursday morning, Harry awoke early. He’d made arrangements to go parasailing with a couple of guys they’d met on the beach. They’d asked Hermione to come along, but she’d vehemently, yet politely, declined. One romantic broom ride with Harry hadn’t suddenly made her love being up in the air, miles off the ground.

“One last chance,” he said, after he’d showered and dressed. She was still lying about in bed as he leaned down to kiss her before he left.

“You go and tell me how it is,” she murmured sleepily.

“Are you just going to sleep around all day?” he asked her, as he packed a towel and some sunscreen in his bag.

“If I want to,” she said, turning over on her back to look at him.

“You’re getting quite good at this, you know,” he said. “I am quite impressed.”

“Thank you,” she said. “I’d like to thank Ron for all he did to help me learn the value of just resting on my laurels.”

“Well, you and your laurels have a good day,” he said, smiling at her. “I love you.”

“Yeah, I’m kind of crazy about you, too,” she said, smiling at him.

She hadn’t slept in all day, however. She woke up a little after nine and after a quick shower went downstairs to the hotel restaurant to grab a quick bite for breakfast. She visited one of the aquariums she’d read about in the travel book and arrived back at the hotel room shortly after lunch.

Harry hadn’t returned yet and thinking that she should at least check in with her parents to see how they were doing, she picked up the telephone and dialed the number. It would be late in London, but she’d hoped that they hadn’t gone to sleep just yet.

The phone rang a couple of times before her mother’s familiar voice came over the line.

“Mum? It’s me.”

“Hermione?”

“I didn’t wake you, did I?” she asked hesitantly.

“No,” Karen Granger said. “Your father was reading and I was working on a puzzle. Where are you?”

The cool, clipped tone of her mother’s voice didn’t go unnoticed by Hermione. She could still remember the disapproving look her parents had given her and Harry as they’d departed that morning a fortnight ago.

“Hawaii,” Hermione said. “We’re having a great time. We’ve both been wearing sunscreen so you don’t have to worry about that.”

“Sunscreen is the least of my concerns,” her mother said matter-of-factly.

Hermione chose to ignore this last comment.

“What are you doing?” her mother asked her concerned. “You’re just a child.”

“Not this again, please,” Hermione sighed.

“Yes, this again,” Karen said. “You and Harry have no idea what it takes to make a marriage work. You think its all romance and love and happiness. But, it’s not. It takes work. It takes commitment. It takes knowing that you have responsibilities and doing what you can to build a home and a life together. It’s not all good times, Hermione. You can’t stay on holiday forever.”

Hermione rolled her eyes.

“I know all that,” Hermione retorted angrily.

“No,” Karen said. “I don’t think you do. You’ve never been one to act so foolishly. You and Harry are just playing house right now. Just you wait until you have to make it in the real world and face real issues.”

“I can’t believe you are saying this!” Hermione said hotly. “We are not playing house! You make it sound so crude, Mum!”

“I’m just saying—“ Karen began, but Hermione cut her off.

“When I was growing up, what was the one thing that you said you wanted for me above all else?”

“Hermione, I don’t see what the point of any of this is,” Karen replied.

“What was the one thing you said you wanted for me?” Hermione asked again.

Karen sighed. “I said I wanted you to be happy.”

“Okay, then,” Hermione said, her voice returning to normal. “Harry makes me happy, Mum.”

“I’m not saying that you can’t be with Harry, Hermione,” her mother said. “Your father and I like him very much. And someday, down the line, if you want to get married, fine. But, this is way too soon to be throwing your life away like this. You have all the time in the world for this later.”

“You don’t know that,” Hermione said, tears welling up in her eyes and an angry feeling coming over her yet again at how close-minded her mother was being. “No one knows how much time they have left. What happened with Daddy should have shown you that. Harry and I have come close to so many dangerous things in the past---things that you don’t even know about, Mum. We might not have tomorrow, but we do have today. And I want to be with him for as long as I can. Nothing you say is going to make me change my mind.”

“We agree on something, then,” Karen said coolly. “Nothing you say is going to make me change my mind. You’re making a big mistake, young lady.”

“It’s my mistake to make if I am,” Hermione said angrily. “Not yours. Not Daddy’s. Mine.”

“I hope you don’t think that when you and Harry come back home that your father and I are going to support the two of you, because if you do—“

But Hermione hadn’t given her mother a chance to finish that sentence. She’d slammed the phone down and slumped down on the floor. Never in her life had she ever openly defied her parents as she’d done just now. She’d always been the dutiful, responsible daughter who toed the line and did as she was told. She knew in her heart that this was the right thing to do. She knew that this was what she was supposed to do. Nothing they could say was going to make her change her mind. Right here, right now, with him was exactly where she was supposed to be. And she wasn’t stupid to think that they wouldn’t have bad times, it was inevitable that they would as all couples did. But, Hermione had no doubt that no matter what life threw their way; they would make it through because they loved each other. Nothing would ever change that.

As she sat there on the edge of the bed, she was so caught up in reliving that awful conversation with her mother, she hadn’t heard Harry come back into the room.

“Hermione?” he called to her.

“In the bedroom,” she called out to him, struggling to get to her feet. She quickly wiped away the tears from her cheeks and tried to look calm and collected. When Harry walked into the bedroom, she couldn’t help dissolving back into tears. He didn’t say anything and quickly bridged the space between them and gave her a warm, comforting hug.

“What is it?” he asked her.

“I, um,” Hermione choked out between sobs. “I c-called my parents back home.”

Harry released her from the embrace. He frowned at her.

”How bad was it?”

“Pretty bad,” she said, sitting down on the bed. “They still aren’t keen on us getting married.”

He hugged her again. “It’s going to be okay.”

She nodded and rested her head on his shoulder. When she’d finally collected her thoughts, she told him about the dreadful conversation.

“They’ve dug their collective heels in,” she said sadly when she’d finish relating the telephone conversation to him. “They refuse to budge. Nothing I say is going to make them change their mind, Harry. Nothing.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, taking her hand in his.

Hermione looked at him, nonplussed. “What are you sorry for?”

“If it wasn’t for me you wouldn’t be having this problem with your parents,” he said simply. “Things would be fine.”

“Things are fine,” Hermione affirmed. “This isn’t your fault, Harry. I’m here with you because I want to be. This is where I want to be.”

He smiled at her.

“You sure about that?”

She leaned in and brushed her lips lightly against his.

“Of course,” she whispered. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

***********

The next couple of days went by in a bit of a blur for the two of them. They tried to get in as much of the Hawaiian culture as they could. In just three days, they’d be departing for Greece, the next stop on their trip.

On Friday afternoon, Hermione returned to the hotel room and called out to Harry, but to her surprise, he was nowhere to be found.

Come to think of it, he’d been quite secretive and evasive over the past couple of days. Every time she inquired about what he was up to, he’d change the subject. He was almost always the one begging for a few more minutes sleep, but the past couple of days, he’d been the first one awake. She’d find a note on the pillow next to her saying that he was going for a “run” and would be back before breakfast.

In all the years she’d known Harry, he’d never been one to get up early for exercise. Something was most definitely going on.

As she was naturally curious, she’d been looking around for hints, but so far, she had to admit he’d done quite a good job of keeping things quiet. She hadn’t been able to deduce a single thing from his behavior; save for the fact that he was planning something.

She sighed as she sat on the edge of the bed and eased out of her sandals. Leaning back onto the bed, she rested her head on the fluffy pillow and was about to close her eyes when she noticed an envelope on the bedside table. In Harry’s messy handwriting was her name “Hermione”. She sat up on the bed and took the envelope in her hands. Without wasting any time, she opened it and unfolded the letter and began to read.

Hermione,

I bet you’ve been wondering what’s been going on with me the last couple of days. I know I have been a little secretive, but tonight you’ll find out everything. I promise. Be in the hotel lobby at 9:00 p.m. I can’t wait to see you.

I love you,
Harry

“What on earth does he have planned?” she wondered aloud. A surge of excitement passed through her as she pondered over what the evening would hold for her. A romantic dinner? A walk on the beach? They’d already done those things a number of times since they’d been in Hawaii. If not that, what? She hoped he wasn’t planning on getting her to bungee jump off the pier because if he thought she would do that, he was sorely mistaken.

Telling herself to just forget about trying to guess what it was and just look forward to the surprise whatever it may be, she lay back down on the bed. She had loads of time to get a quick kip in before she would have to get ready. She set the bedside alarm clock and then drifted off to sleep.

****

At around 8:55 p.m. that evening, Hermione found herself taking the lift down to the lobby. She was feeling both a sense of nervousness and excitement over what awaited her downstairs. She checked her reflection in the glass panel of the lift. The days they’d spent in Hawaii had given her a nice, brown tan. She wore a simple navy blue double v-neck sundress that was embroidered with small white flowers. She wore a pair of blue sandals on her feet and a pair of simple pearl drop earrings. She’d worn her hair down and with some Sleek-Easy Hair Potion had managed to tame her bushy brown hair into curly ringlets. She hadn’t known why she’d taken such care in her appearance, but she felt like tonight she would need to. She said a silent prayer that she would be dressed appropriately for whatever it was Harry had planned. She wrapped her white shawl around her shoulders protectively as she stepped out of the lift and into the lobby. She scanned the crowded lobby for any sign of her boyfriend, but didn’t see anyone under the age of 40 in the near vicinity.

As she approached the front desk, the concierge looked up expectantly at her.

”Miss Granger?” he beckoned to her.

Hermione smiled warmly at him and nodded.

“Mr. Potter is waiting for you down on the beach,” he said winking at her. “Just go through the double doors to your left and follow the path down to the beach.”

Hermione nodded. She was about to walk toward the doors, when she doubled back and asked the concierge conspiratorially, “Did he say what we were doing?”

The concierge beamed at her. “Mr. Potter said you would ask questions.”

Hermione frowned. “He knows me too well.”

The concierge guffawed. “He left strict orders not to tell you anything other than what I’ve already said.”

Hermione nodded. “Thank you.”

*********

It was a warm, starry night, Hermione noticed as she stepped outside. She saw that the pathway bridge leading to the beach was lit up.

”Harry?” she called out. There was no answer. She walked along the pathway and then her breath caught in her throat as she reached the top of the walkway.

Harry was standing against the railing, wearing a pair of khaki pants and a simple white linen shirt that wasn’t tucked into his trousers. He looked as handsome as she’d ever seen him. He was practically beaming at her.

“Okay,” she said, when she reached him. “What’s with all the cloak and dagger routine you’ve been running the past few days? The jig is up, Potter.”

He smiled.

“You look beautiful,” he said, taking her hands in his.

“Thanks,” she said softly, as she tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “You look rather nice, too.”

“Thanks,” he said, winking at her.

“So, what are we doing down here on the beach?” she asked cheekily. “Surely, you don’t plan on jumping into the ocean stark naked, do you?”

“Hmmm,” he said, rubbing his chin with his hand. “Maybe later.”

She playfully hit him on the arm.

“Well, I was wondering if you weren’t busy tonight, we could sort of make it official.”

“Make what official?” she asked, confused.

“I want to marry you, Hermione,” he said, bringing her closer to him. “Tonight.”

She gasped. “Tonight?”

“Yeah, I mean, you couldn’t ask for a more perfect setting,” he said, gesturing with his free arm to the ocean. “And I’ve found a minister from one of the wedding chapels. He’s just inside waiting for the word.”

He looked at her, his green eyes staring intently into her eyes. “What do you say, Hermione?”

She felt tears welling up in her eyes. “I say yes.”

His smile broadened. “Really?”

She nodded giddily at him. “Let’s do it.”

“I know it’s not what we planned and we don’t have our friends and family here,” he said apologetically.

“We just need the two of us,” she said, reassuringly. “That’s all.”

“Well, let’s go get that minister, then,” he said, taking her hand and leading her back toward the hotel.

“You don’t think you’d go through with this without me, do you?” a familiar voice called to them. Hermione stopped dead in her tracks and looked at Harry, who grinned at her knowingly.

Hermione turned slowly around to see Ron Weasley grinning like a Cheshire cat at her.

“Ron!” Hermione said, letting go of Harry’s hand and running into her best friend’s waiting arms.

“I’m not going to be the maid of honor, though,” he said, when she finally let go of him. “I have to draw the line somewhere.”

“Of course,” Hermione said, with a laugh. “Besides, there’s not enough time to get you into a dress.”

“It’s not like he hasn’t worn one before,” Harry chimed in.

Ron glared at him. “We agreed never to bring that up again.”

Harry shook his head. “I don’t remember ever saying that.”

Hermione stepped between them. “How did you get here?”

“Apparated a few hours ago,” Ron said. “Harry apparated back to London yesterday to see if I could make it. Luna sends her love. She wished she could have come, but she went on holiday with her father to visit some relatives in Scotland.”

Hermione nodded. “I’m so glad you’re here. It wouldn’t have seemed complete if you weren’t here with us.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it,” Ron said. “You will have to put up with Mum’s wrath, though. When she finds out that you got married without her present, she’ll throw a conniption fit the likes of which you’ve never seen before.”

Hermione and Harry laughed.

“Ron!” Hermione said, suddenly. “I just thought of something! You could give me away!”

Ron looked quite touched by this request. “You’d really want me to do this?”

Hermione nodded.

“Best man and substitute father of the bride, huh?” Ron asked, pretending to think this over. “This doesn’t mean I have to talk with Harry about treating my little girl right, do I?”

The three friends shared another laugh before walking arm and arm into the hotel lobby to get the minister to begin the ceremony.

****

Harry stood at the end of the walkway in front of the minister, who smiled at him as they waited for Hermione and Ron. She had found a bouquet of tropical flowers and she held them with trembling hands. Ron had linked his arm with hers as they walked down the walkway toward Harry.

The ceremony was short and simple and both Harry and Hermione held each other’s glances as they listened to the words the minister said and as they repeated their vows to each other.

Hermione managed not to cry until Harry slipped the wedding band onto her finger. It was the happiest moment of her life. The only thing that would have made it perfect would have been for her parents to have witnessed it. It was their loss that they hadn’t witnessed the happiest day of their daughter’s life, she reasoned to herself. She quickly put those thoughts out of her mind. Nothing was going to bring her down tonight.

When the minister pronounced them husband and wife, Harry didn’t wait for the minister to tell him before quickly kissing his new wife.

As neither of them were 21, they had to enjoy sparkling grape cider for the wedding toast. Although Ron teased them about going back up to the hotel room with them, he told them he had to get back home. With a heartfelt and warm goodbye to his two best friends, he disapparated.

Hermione felt elated, happy and loved as she and Harry waited for the lift in the lobby to take them back upstairs to their room.

“We’re married,” she said, thoughtfully.

”Is that what we just did?” he asked her cheekily.

“Mmmm,” she said, leaning in for a kiss.

“Now for the fun stuff,” he said. “The honeymoon.”

In a few minutes, they were both standing in front of their hotel room. Harry fished the keycard from his trouser pocket and opened the door. Hermione was about to follow him through the doorway when he stopped.

“What?” she asked.

“I have to carry you,” he said. “Over the threshold. It’s tradition.”

“Oh,” she said, laughing. “I forgot about that. We wouldn’t want to break with tradition, now would we?’

“Of course not,” he said, leaning down and picking her up. She wrapped her arms around his neck as they walked through the doorway. “I love you, Mrs. Potter.”

She looked at him as he carried her toward the bedroom.

“I love you, too, Mr. Potter.”

Author’s note: Here’s another slice of fluff for you…the bad stuff is still a couple of chapters away…Thanks for all who have reviewed. And if you haven’t yet, please do so. Reviews are the lifeblood for us writers…they keep us going. Thanks to Heaven for all the help on this one!

Chapter Two

Scenes from a Marriage

Harry paced nervously in front of the bathroom door. What on earth was she doing in there? She’d been in there for twenty minutes, doing Merlin knows what. He could still remember how they’d both been laughing hysterically as he carried her into the bedroom and dropped her gently down onto the bed. He was about to lean in to kiss her when to his surprise, she pushed him away rather abruptly and said she had to do something first.

Well, he’d been quite taken aback by what she did next. She went over to the dresser and pulled something out, rather quickly, he might add, before retreating to the bathroom without so much as a second glance to her husband of only a few minutes.

What was it Sirius had once told him?

Harry, you could spend the rest of your life trying and you will never solve the mystery that is woman.

He was beginning to see Sirius’ point rather clearly. As he thought of his godfather, he wished as he often did that Sirius’ could have seen their wedding. He wished that he could have had their entire family and friends there to witness the ceremony, but it just wasn’t possible. Especially with Hermione’s parents reacting like they had to the engagement. Harry supposed he was lucky they’d still allowed Hermione to go along on the holiday. Though, truth be told, they hadn’t looked exactly thrilled at the prospect. Imagine how they’d react when they heard their daughter had married at the tender age of 17, he thought.

“You okay in there?” he called to Hermione.

Her muffled reply was, “Yes, won’t be too much longer. I promise.”

He smiled. He sat down on the edge of the bed and took off his shoes. He sat there for a moment or two contemplating what was about to happen. This was it. This was the moment they’d both been waiting for months to happen. As he looked around the bedroom, he couldn’t help but feel nervous. A number of questions went through his head. What if they started and had no idea what the hell they were doing? What if he did something wrong? What if the buildup was better than the actual event? He likened the feelings he was experiencing now to that old familiar feeling of taking a test you were ill-prepared for. On the bright side, at least Hermione was inexperienced when it came to this. They’d both have to muddle through it together.

Romantic thought, Potter. Great way to describe making love to your wife for the first time.

As he thought these thoughts, he looked around the room. It was a nice hotel room. The bed was nice and comfortable and the view was absolutely fantastic. Their patio overlooked the ocean. He and Hermione had watched the sun rise and set a number of times and each time the sheer beauty of it fascinated him. The best part of it was seeing the look on her face as she took it all in. She enjoyed it so much that it made him like it, too.

Still, he couldn’t help but think he should have done more to prepare the room for a wedding night. He hadn’t even bought flowers or put out candles. It looked the same as it always did. The whole time he’d been planning the wedding, he hadn’t even thought about the “Wedding Night”. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He had thought about what would happen on the wedding night, but he hadn’t thought about the minor, romantic details. Truth be told, that was more Hermione’s forte.

His eyes fell to his wand on the bedside table. He took his hand to his forehead and it dawned on him that he was a wizard after all. Cases like this were where magic was a big help. He took his wand in his hand and with a few incantations and a few swishes and flicks; the room was lit with candles of all shapes and sizes. Rose petals littered the bed and a few vases of tropical flowers and other roses decorated the room. He walked over to the stereo and popped in a favorite CD of Hermione’s. The soft music set the perfect mood.

Not bad. Not bad at all.

He was so busy admiring his romantic improvisations via magic that he hadn’t even noticed Hermione had just come out of the bathroom. She stood in the doorway, looking at Harry and not being able to suppress a wide grin. She took in the room and couldn’t believe how absolutely…well, magical was the word that she came up with to best describe what he had done.

She fidgeted slightly in the doorway. She felt so foolish for being so nervous and apprehensive. She knew she shouldn’t feel this way. This was Harry---the love of her life; her husband. How she loved those words---her husband. This was what they’d both wanted. This was what they’d both held out for. And it was about to happen. She wasn’t scared---she never was when she was with him. It was strange. She could be facing the most daunting tasks or evil creatures and she always felt that as long as he was with her, everything would work out okay. It might not make sense, but it was something she knew in her heart; just as she knew the sun would set in the evening.

He looked so adorable standing their admiring what he’d just done, she couldn’t help but laugh. As she did so, he whirled around to see her. She beamed at him.

She was wearing an ivory lace, chemise nightgown with spaghetti straps. The ocean breeze had frizzed her hair up some and she’d had to apply a liberal amount of Sleek-Easy on her hair to tame it back into ringlets. He was staring at her and she wondered if something was wrong. Had she smeared toothpaste on her chin by mistake? Had she walked out of the bathroom with loo roll trailing behind her? She touched her face and then looked as discretely as she could muster behind her to see to her relief that she hadn’t done anything embarrassing. Yet, he still looked at her, his mouth agape.

“Is, um, something wrong?” she asked with a nervous laugh.

He shook his head and a smile played at his lips.

“Why are you looking at me like that, then?” she asked concerned.

“Uh, um, well, you…really look…,” he stammered. “I mean, you…wow.”

She blushed and couldn’t help giggling.

“So you like this?” she asked, a wave of relief coming over her.

He could only nod as he crossed the room and put his hands on both sides of her face and within seconds they were kissing. Hermione felt the familiar toe-tingling, electric feeling that came over her whenever he kissed her or touched her like this. He was the only person who made her feel like that. He broke away from her to catch his breath and then covered her lips with his again, deepening the kiss. Hermione wrapped her arms around him and she could feel his hands wandering up her back and then back down her waist and around her hips. He pressed her closer to him as he stepped backward toward the bed.

They lay back on the bed as Hermione began to unbutton his shirt, never breaking the kiss. He pulled the straps of her nightgown down from her shoulder and planted sweet kisses along her neck and on her shoulder. She shivered as he did so, enjoying the feelings he was arousing in her. He pulled away from her and looked down at her, taking her in, seemingly looking at her as if he was trying to mentally capture this moment in his mind. In all her life, she’d wanted many things---good marks in school, a number of books, peace in the wizarding world, elf rights. Those things were important, of course, but they paled in comparison to how much she wanted this man. As she stared up at him, she could see that he wanted her just as much as she wanted him.

She hesitantly pushed him away so she could sit up on the bed. She was a little scared and unsure of what she was about to do. She’d never been completely naked in front of him before. Looking into his eyes for encouragement, she slowly lifted her nightgown over her head and tossed it to the floor. Instinctively, her hands went to cover herself, but Harry stopped her and gently took her hands in his.

“You look absolutely beautiful, Hermione,” he whispered.

She was about to make a sarcastic remark about him having to say something like that now that they were married, but as she looked into his eyes, she could tell that he meant every word. This was how he truly felt. She gave him a shy smile as she lay back down onto the bed and he looked down at her, looking for her assurance that what they were about to do was what she wanted. He wanted her to know that he would understand if she wasn’t ready to take this step.

She looked up at him, tears shining in her eyes, and nodded. She wrapped her fingers around his belt loops and pulled him down on top of her.

*****

Hermione awoke early the next morning. She was a little sore from the events of the night before, but she couldn’t help waking up with a smile on her face. Harry was still asleep as she crept quietly out of bed and slipped her nightgown and dressing gown on. She opened up the patio doors and watched as the sun rose. It was absolutely breathtaking. The waves were crashing into the shore and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.

She wished that they could stay here forever. For as much as this was lovely and nice and amazing, this wasn’t the real world. They would have to return to their normal lives sooner or later. She wasn’t fooling herself into thinking they’d always be this happy, but she knew that as long as they loved each other, they’d make it through the hard times and hopefully, the good would always outweigh the bad.

She heard Harry come out onto the patio. He was wearing only his boxer shorts and his hair was all disheveled and he grinned stupidly at her as he walked toward her.

“Where are your glasses?” she asked him, with a grin.

“I have no idea,” he said. “You threw them off of me last night and I haven’t seen them since.”

“Summoning charm,” she reminded him. “Honestly, you wouldn’t last two minutes without me.”

“You’re right,” he agreed, coming behind her and wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder. They stood in silence taking in the sights and sounds of the early Hawaiian morning.

“Was it worth the wait?” she asked him, turning a little to see into his eyes.

He pretended to think long and hard about her question, but smiled softly at her.

“It was well worth the wait,” he said, kissing her neck.

“What about you?” he asked her.

“Ahhh, I’ve had better,” she said cheekily.

Harry tensed up behind her.

“Oh, you big baby,” she said, laughing. “I’m just teasing!”

He looked at her and she knew that look at once. It was the look that said he was going to get her and he was going to make her pay. She walked away from him gingerly and he followed her.

“You can run, but you can’t hide, Granger,” he said warningly.

She looked at him. “That’s Mrs. Potter to you.”

She ran back into the hotel room and he followed her as they collapsed onto the bed into a fit of giggles.

***

One Year Later…

As with all good things, their trip had to eventually come to an end. After a few more days in Hawaii, they ventured onto Greece, Australia, and Spain. They finished up their trip by visiting a number of the sights in America. It was the trip of a lifetime and their relationship and marriage had flourished while they’d been on holiday. Sure, they’d had an odd disagreement here and there, but nothing to call the barristers for. Marriage certainly agreed with them and they returned to London the first week of August, healthy, relaxed and still very much in love.

Hermione had expressed concern to Harry about where they would stay once they returned to London, but he’d brushed her concerns off by changing the subject. She’d figured they’d probably just stay at Grimmauld Place. The Order was no longer using it and as far as she knew, it was empty. She hadn’t worried too much about it. She’d learned to do something while they’d been on holiday that she hadn’t done too much of while she’d been in school. She’d learned to live in the moment. She didn’t think too much about what they’d do when they returned home or where they’d live. She’d just concentrated on the here and now.

Well, the here and now was back in London and she was now getting more than a little concerned about their living arrangements. They were sitting in a small restaurant near Kings’ Cross, enjoying a late lunch.

Hermione was going to visit her parents and Harry said he would have to take care of a few minor details. He’d offered to go with her to see her folks, but she’d told him it would probably be best if she went alone.

It was no surprise to Hermione that her parents hadn’t reacted favorably to the news of their daughter’s engagement. Hermione had called them from Greece to tell them the news, but her mother had coldly told her that they’d already heard about it in The Daily Prophet. Mrs. Weasley had apparently sent them a copy of the paper that announced the marriage. They’d been none too pleased and hadn’t minced words with Hermione when she called.

As that had been a disaster, Hermione hadn’t spoken to them more than a handful of times in the past year. She hoped that by now they’d had a chance to get used to it and would be more open to accepting the marriage.

“So, you aren’t going to tell me anything, are you?” Hermione asked him, laughing as he took a bite of his sandwich.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I’ll meet you back here at 6 and we’ll go to our new home.”

“No hints?” she asked him.

He shook his head and smiled at her. “You do know that the definition of a surprise involves one person knowing what’s going on and the other person being completely clueless.”

“Ha, ha, ha,” Hermione said, looking down at her watch. “I’d better get a move on. Mum should be just getting home from the office now.”

“You sure you don’t want me to come with?” he asked her, looking at her as she got up from the table.

She nodded. “It’ll be okay. They’ve had a long time to get used to the idea. I hope that they’ll see the photos I’ve got here and that they’ll see how happy and healthy I am and say that they are ready to admit that they were wrong and that they wish us all the happiness in the world.”

“And if they don’t?” Harry asked, taking her hand in his.

Hermione looked thoughtful. “They’ll be missing out on having the best son-in-law in the world.”

He blushed. “I love you.”

“I know,” she said, smiling at him. She touched his cheek with her hand and leaned down and gave him a kiss. “I love you, too.”

”It’ll be alright, Hermione,” he said, reassuringly. “No matter what happens, it will be okay. We’ll be okay.”

She nodded and with one more quick kiss to her husband walked out of the restaurant, praying that he was right.

**

Hermione felt a little strange as she knocked on her parents’ door. It didn’t seem right to be knocking on the door of her childhood home. But, standing here on the front porch, she felt very much like a visitor.

Her mother opened the door and gave a slight smile to her daughter.

“Hi, Mum,” Hermione said warmly.

“Hermione,” her mother said, surprise in her voice. “I wasn’t expecting you this soon.”

“Well, we just got in today, actually,” Hermione said. “We’re both a little worn out to tell you the truth, but I wanted to come by and let you know that we’re doing okay.”

Karen looked at her daughter and then poked her head out the door and looked up and down the street.

“Where is Harry?”

“He had some things he had to take care of,” Hermione said defensively. She didn’t like the tone in her mother’s voice.

“I see,” Karen replied coolly.

“Can I come in?”

Karen nodded and stood back to allow her daughter entry into the house. Hermione smiled again at her mother as she walked through the foyer and into the living room.

“Where’s Dad?” she asked, as she sat down on the sofa.

“He had a last minute root canal to perform,” Karen said, sitting down beside her daughter. “He should be home later this evening.”

Hermione nodded.

“Did you want some tea?” Karen asked.

Hermione shook her head. “No, thank you.”

There was an awkward silence between mother and daughter as they both sat there, unsure of what to say or how to say it. It was Karen who spoke first.

“So, how was your trip?”

“Great,” Hermione said. “Fantastic, actually. I brought some photos. We took loads. Harry even threatened to take the camera away from me a few times. He said I was going to blind him before he was 20 if I kept up flashing the camera at him.”

Karen didn’t laugh. Hermione offered her the photo album, but Karen didn’t take it. Hermione sighed as she held the photo album against her chest.

“You just can’t be happy for me, can you?”

Karen was about to reply, but Hermione shook her head. “You are really unbelievable, Mum. Honestly! It’s not as if I went out and dropped out of school or got into trouble or ended up with the wrong crowd. I haven’t done anything wrong. And as much as you don’t want to think so, I am very happy. I have no regrets about what I’ve done. Why can’t you just be happy for me?”

Hermione looked at her mother, willing the tears in her eyes not to fall.

“Hermione,” Karen said. “I have never wanted anything for you, but for you to be happy. And I really don’t think you’ve thought this through. You have a life ahead of you—“

“Not this again!” Hermione interrupted. “I’m 18 years old. In a month, I’ll be 19. I know I have a life ahead of me! Just because I’m married doesn’t mean I can’t do everything I’ve always wanted. I start classes at University next month. Harry’s going to begin Auror training soon. We’re both getting the chance to live out our dreams and we’re doing it together, Mum! I don’t see how this could cause you or anyone any pain or inconvenience!”

Karen gave a hollow laugh. “You make it sound so easy, Hermione. You haven’t even begun to do any of that. You have no way of knowing if any of this will work out. You’re both going to be leading very different lives and you might now always have time for each other---“

“I can’t believe this!” Hermione said angrily. “You keep looking for reasons for this to fail when I keep giving you all these reasons that it won’t. You’re never going to change your mind are you? I don’t even know why I came over here. I don’t know why I thought that you would change. You and daddy both have always been set in your ways. You see the world as you see it and you don’t care about what anyone else thinks or how they feel. That’s not going to be me, Mum. And if you can’t accept me and my marriage, then I don’t think I can be a part of this family anymore.”

“Hermione-“ Karen began. “You’re not—“

“Goodbye, Mum.”

Hermione gathered up her purse and photo album and dashed as quickly as she could out of the house and she didn’t look back. The tears she’d been desperately trying to hold back fell slowly down her cheeks as she walked away from her house and from her old life.

****

When Hermione arrived back at the restaurant she went into the bathroom. She splashed cold water on her face and ran a brush through her hair. After she’d left her mother, she’d gone into Diagon Alley and watched a little wistfully, as she saw some younger children venturing into the shops purchasing school supplies for Hogwarts. It was hard to believe that she’d ever been that young. Yet, here she was---married. She smiled as she glanced down at her hand. The wedding band shined in the sunlight. She knew that what she’d done was right. She couldn’t live her life for her parents. She had to live it for herself. Maybe someday her parents would see that.

She walked out of the restaurant bathroom and saw that Harry had just walked inside. He caught sight of her and smiled at her, beckoning her to follow him outside.

She kissed him on the cheek as they walked toward the alley. He inquired about the visit to her parents’, but she’d told him she didn’t want to talk about it right now. He knew not to press her on the issue and gave her a comforting hug.

“So,” she said grinning at him. “Where are we going?”

He grinned back, mischievously, at her. “Hold my hand.”

She did as she was told and right before they apparated told her, “We’re going home.”

**

They arrived at a village. Hermione stared at the row of nice cottages.

Thackerey Drive.

She’d never seen this place before, but it looked so pleasant and nice.

“We live here?” she asked him.

“Third cottage on the right,” he said, taking her hand and leading her excitedly to the cottage.

It was small and the yard needed some work, but Hermione had no doubt that with care this could be a wonderful home.

Harry produced a key from his pocket and handed it to Hermione to do the honors.

She beamed at him as she put the key in the lock and unlocked the door. She squealed with laughter when he picked her up and carried her over the threshold, cheekily telling her that it was tradition.

When he put her down, she looked around the house. It, too, needed some work, but Hermione knew at first sight that this was the right place for them. This was home.

“I know it’s not much,” Harry said, watching as she looked around. “The trip kind of took a chunk of our savings, but I think with time and work, this could be a great place.”

Hermione turned around and nodded. “This is perfect altogether, Harry.”

“You think so?”

She nodded again. “Because it’s ours. It’s our first place. It’s ours. Yours and mine. No one can take that away from us. This is our home.”

He swept her up in his arms for a warm embrace and twirled her around.

“Welcome home, Hermione.”

Author’s note: Well, here’s the last “happy” chapter for our favorite couple. Please read the last author’s note as well. Thanks for all the reviews. I really do appreciate them and read each and every one of them. So, when you finish reading the chapter, please leave me a little something to let me know what you thought (Good, Bad, or Indifferent. I can take it!) And yes, I am bringing back my song thing before each chapter…it was missing before, but it’s back.

Chapter Three

Everlasting Love

“When life’s river flows
No one really knows
Till someone’s there to show
The way to lasting love
Like the sun that shines
You always will be mine
It’s eternal love
When the other loves are gone
Ours will be strong
We have our very own
Everlasting love”

(Carl Carlton, “Everlasting Love”)

“I know I’ve said it before, but I really don’t think I can take it anymore,” Ron said, as he helped Harry put some drop cloths down on the furniture. Ron had volunteered---no he was actually strong-armed by Hermione---to help them straighten up their new cottage. He’d asked them why they didn’t just use magic to knock the job out in a few short minutes, but Hermione had steadfastly refused. She insisted on doing this the old-fashioned Muggle way and wouldn’t be deterred. Her enthusiasm in buying paint and brushes and rollers in a London hardware store was almost inspiring. Yet, Ron still didn’t know what he’d been thinking when he’d agreed to help them out.

The cottage was very nice and quaint, but it did need an awful lot of work and Ron honestly didn’t know if the three of them were capable enough to handle the job on their own. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Ron relished any opportunity to get out of the Burrow these days.

“I love my nephew, I do,” Ron said seriously to Harry and Hermione. “But I swear to God I’m going to kill his father.”

Harry guffawed.

“You wouldn’t be so amused if he was living in your house,” Ron said crossly. “Everywhere I go, there he is. And Mum has suddenly become his biggest fan. She keeps telling him that he’s her favorite son-in-law.”

”He’s her only son-in-law,” Hermione said, taking the last drop cloth and draping it over a coffee table.

“And he is your sister’s husband and your nephew’s father,” Harry reminded him.

“And your brother-in-law,” Hermione said, putting a comforting arm around him, which he promptly shrugged off, annoyed. As if he needed anyone to remind him of this sad fact.

In an effort to stop what looked to be the latest round in the Hermione-Ron row to end all rows, Harry stepped between them and looked at Ron. “You could always move in with Fred and George until you find your own place.”

Ron rolled his eyes. “Have you gone around the twist? If I move in with those two wankers, I’d be their personal guinea pig for their next joke shop product. I may not be the smartest person around, but I’m not completely insane, Harry.”

“So, either way you look at it,” Hermione said, winking at Harry. “You’re screwed.”

Before he could respond, Hermione gave him a sweet smile. “You could always move in here with us. We do have the extra bedroom. “

“Oh, yeah,” Ron said with a laugh. “Like I really want to walk in as the newlyweds our christening yet another room in their house?”

This time it was Hermione who was taken aback by his remark. One look at her and he knew he may have overstepped his bounds by his comment. He was about to apologize when she leaned in and gave him a syrupy sweet smile and Ron waited for her response with baited breath.

“Oh, Ron!” she said. “We’ve already done that!”

Ron winced and covered his ears.

“Stop!” he exclaimed. “I don’t want to hear anymore! That’s way too much information. Way, way, way too much information!”

A few moments later all three of them were ensconced in painting. Hermione had delegated Harry and Ron to paint the sitting room while she tackled the kitchen. It was quiet as the two men set to work. The only sound coming from the kitchen where Hermione had turned the radio on and they could hear her humming along to the music.

Ron had watched his two best friends all day. While he’d appreciated their offer to let him move in, he knew he’d never be able to intrude on their new home; especially now when the two of them were still so obviously in their newlywed-honeymoon stage.

The thing that was mainly holding him back from moving out of his parents’ house was the fact that in his 19 years on this earth, he’d never once lived alone. He’d always lived in a house full of brothers and a sister. At Hogwarts, he’d shared a dorm with Harry, Neville, Dean and Seamus. He honestly wouldn’t know how to live alone. It was a foreign concept to him. But, the more he shared living space with Draco Malfoy, the more the idea appealed to him.

In the silence, Ron had time to think about everything that had happened over the past few months. Malfoy had predictably been disowned by the remaining Malfoys. His father, still imprisoned in Azkaban had sent him a number of letters telling his son how he was dead to him and how he’d brought shame to the family by associating with a family that was so far beneath his own. To his credit, Malfoy had stood by the Weasley family. As a result, he’d not had a place to call home or any money to support his new wife and son with. Molly and Arthur took pity on them and asked them to stay at the Burrow until Malfoy was able to buy a place of his own. Begrudgingly, Ron had to admit that since the birth of his son, Malfoy had shown a great improvement in his overall demeanor. As Ron had joked to his brothers, it’s hard to go any lower once you’ve hit rock bottom.

Yet, to Ron’s surprise, Malfoy did seem genuinely appreciative and thankful for the help that Arthur and Molly had extended to him for the sake of their daughter and their grandson.

Draco Malfoy Jr. (or D.J. as they all called him) was as close to a perfect child as you could get, Molly always said. The entire family had fallen in love with the little boy the moment he’d arrived. As Fred and George joked to Ron, the kid really couldn’t help who his father was---he’d had no say in it. D.J. had the trademark red hair of the Weasley family, but had the eyes, nose and chin that were unmistakably a Malfoy’s.

Ginny, too, had grown up considerably with the birth of her son. She really was great with him and having him in her life had made her quite a bit more mature and responsible. She was truly trying to put what she’d done behind her and grow from it. She would have graduated from Hogwarts in June had she not had to take time off from school to have the baby. As it was, she was to begin her final year at Hogwarts in September. Dumbledore had agreed to let Ginny attend classes in the mornings and afternoons and have her travel via portkey back to the Burrow. Molly was more than happy to help take care of her first and only grandson during the day.

Arthur had used his Ministry connections to help land Malfoy a job in the Department of Magical Games & Sports. Malfoy hoped to have enough saved away in a couple of months to afford a flat.

Despite all of this, Ron was still annoyed at having to see Malfoy day in and day out. There was still a lot of bad blood between them and Ron really had no idea if it would ever truly go away. All the horrible things that Malfoy had done weren’t something you could just sweep under the rug. It certainly wasn’t helping matters that they were all living under the same roof in such close quarters.

Ron’s thoughts were interrupted by someone running a paint roller over his face. He jumped, startled. Thankfully, the roller didn’t have any paint on it and Harry grinned at him.

“You better get to work, mate,” Harry said, pointing to the paint tray at Ron’s feet. “If Hermione comes back and finds you daydreaming, there’ll be hell to pay.”

Ron looked around the room. “Where’d she go?” he asked as he got to his feet again and placed his paint roller in the tray.

“Lunch,” Harry said. “She apparated to Hogsmeade to pick us up some sandwiches.”

“So let me get this straight?” Ron asked, as he began to paint the wall. “She left us to do all the work? See, I think I’ve caught on to her master plan, Harry. She just wanted to do this the old-fashioned Muggle way because she’d be able to delegate and assign. This kind of thing puts her right in her element. She probably has list upon list about how we’ll do it, what we’ll do it with, when we’ll do it. I bet she has it on a schedule down to the exact time in hours, minutes and seconds.”

“Hey!” Harry said, pointing his paint brush at Ron. “We are talking about my wife here!”

“I’m telling the truth about your wife,” Ron retorted with a smile. “And you know it!”

Harry laughed but continued to paint, but stopped when he felt Ron’s eyes on him.

“What?” he asked, turning to face his friend.

Ron shrugged. “It’s just a little surreal for me. My best friends are married. My sister is married, albeit to the greatest horse’s arse in the world, but still-“

“So, you thinking of taking the plunge, too?” Harry asked. “You and Luna?”

Ron vigorously shook his head and waved his hands. “We’ve talked about it, of course, but we’re in agreement that we like things the way they stand now. We have what we have and we each have our own lives. There’s no pressure. I mean, she’s busy writing for her dad’s paper and I’m happy, sort of, with my job.”

“Why don’t you just tell your parents that you don’t want to work at the Ministry and you want to make a go of Quidditch? You know it’s what you really want to do.”

“Try telling that to Mum,” Ron said, shaking his head. “I mean, its okay for my dad and Percy to spend their days cooped up in an office staring at a cubicle wall all damn day, but it’s not for me. And I’m really afraid that I could actually die of boredom there, Harry.”

Ron began his job at the Ministry in his dad’s division shortly after graduation. Nearly a year into the job, he was still nowhere near satisfied. He spent the majority of his work day, doodling away on parchment or staring up at the ceiling.

“You can’t live your life according to what your parents want,” Harry chided him.

Ron scoffed. “You should talk, Mister-I’m- Going- to- Be- An- Auror. You have to admit that a part of you is doing that because it seems like something your parents would have wanted you to do? I mean, if they were still a—“ Ron’s voice trailed off. He looked over at Harry apologetically.

Harry gave him a reassuring smile. “You were about to say that if my parents were alive, they might have pushed me into doing something like this. Its okay, Ron. You didn’t mean anything by it.”

Ron visibly relaxed.

“I suppose in some way I am doing this because of them, but it’s really not just that. I feel as if it was something I was born to do. I think I’ll be good at it.”

“Damn right you will,” Ron said.

Harry blushed.

“Hermione can’t be too keen on you leaving for a month for your training.”

“Well, I’m not too keen on it myself,” Harry admitted. “But she’ll have classes starting soon at University.”

“When is it that you leave?”

“Two weeks,” Harry said, just as they both heard a loud “pop” in the foyer. Hermione entered the room a few seconds later, her arms laden with bags of food.

“Is this all you two have done?” she asked, setting the bags down and surveying the room.

“You weren’t here to supervise,” Ron said, greedily tearing into one of the bags for a sandwich. He quickly unwrapped one and had taken two bites before Hermione even had a chance to respond.

“You never change,” she said, staring at him in disbelief, disgust and amusement, as he took another huge bite of his sandwich.

Harry came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She laughed as he tickled her neck with kisses.

Ron looked over at them and this time it was he who looked at them in a look of amusement and disbelief.

“Hey!” he said pointedly at them, hoping that they would stop. But, they had either chosen to ignore him or hadn’t heard him at all. Hermione had turned to face Harry and they were full-on snogging to Ron’s utter horror.

“Hey!” he exclaimed again, louder. “I’m trying to eat here!”

He might as well have spoken in Russian for all they heard. They continued to kiss and touch and…Ron couldn’t take it anymore. There were some things that friends should just not know about or see. He shook his head at the two of them and knew that his presence was no longer needed or required. He walked toward the door, but doubled back when he thought of something. Careful to avert his eyes from what his friends were doing, he grabbed the remaining bags of food. It was only fair after all.

*******

Crookshanks purred at Hermione’s feet, but she didn’t hear and didn’t notice. She was too busy looking up into her husband’s green eyes to even care. Seeing that he wasn’t going to draw his mistress’ attention away, Crookshanks sauntered out of the room.

“We’re never going to get the cottage finished if we keep getting distracted,” Hermione murmured as she rested her head on Harry’s chest.

“You started it,” he said with a laugh.

“You were the one who started kissing me,” she said. “I just came in here with food and the next thing I know you’ve---. Wait a minute! The food.”

She pulled away from Harry and looked at the place on the floor where she’d put the food down. It was gone. As was their red-haired friend.

“That little bugger!” Hermione said exasperatedly. “He stole our food!”

“So he did,” Harry mused. “So he did.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “He’s always doing stuff like this, Harry. You know the whole world could be crashing at his feet and he’d be looking for the nearest restaurant so he could stuff his face before the end of the world. And do you know what kills me about him? He’s still as skinny as a rail. He never gains a stone! It’s not fair.”

Harry looked at his wife with a goofy grin on his face.

“What?” she asked him.

“Nothing,” he said, shaking his head and going back over to the paint tray and kneeling down. “This just seems so normal.”

“What does?” Hermione asked, her brow furrowing. “Me talking about Ron? Because, you know that I’m right on this. That boy would probably delay his own wedding for a meal.”

Harry laughed. “Not Ron, Hermione. This.”

He motioned around the cottage. “This place. You and me. Everything just seems so normal. It’s perfect.”

Hermione couldn’t help but smile. This was what he’d always wanted. And now they had it. Normality. Being who he was and what he was, that might not always be the case, but right now normality was as close to perfection as either of them had seen in quite some time.

“It is nice,” she said, picking up her own paint brush and getting back to painting.

*****

By nightfall, they were still painting. They’d ordered out for pizza and hungrily devoured it and Harry gave Hermione some good-natured teasing about Hermione being the pot calling the kettle black when she’d finished off her third piece of pizza.

Despite the hard work, they’d both had a wonderful time listening to the radio and talking as they painted. Hermione had nearly laughed herself silly when Harry had tried to dance.

“What?” he asked her, taken aback. “I am actually quite good at this.”

She patted his arm affectionately. “You’re good as long as the song is a slow one. Otherwise, you have two left feet and you know it. There are some things that we just can’t do. For me, it’s cooking. For you, it’s fast dancing.”

Harry dropped his paint roller. “Hermione! You cannot tell me that you don’t think I can bust a move!”

Hermione stifled a laugh. “Oh, you’re busting something, alright. But it’s not a move, Harry. It is most definitely not a move.”

He looked taken aback and tried his best to look affronted, but he knew Hermione was correct. He could do many things, but dancing wasn’t one of them. He was man enough to admit his shortcomings, but he did like to tease Hermione. She was always ready to rise to the occasion.

Hermione laughed at him. “I’m not saying that you should never dance again. You can dance all you want. I just wouldn’t do it in public. I could just see the articles in the newspaper now with photos, of course. It’s not something I think you want to get out.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, walking over to her. “I promise never to dance like that…in public, if you promise never to cook that stuff that was posing as spaghetti for me ever again.”

He took his wife’s hand and twirled her around and started to dance with her. She was laughing but she looked up at him and placed her hands on her hips.

“It wasn’t that bad,” she said defensively.

“Hermione,” he said, giving her a stern look. “Spaghetti’s isn’t supposed to be crunchy.”

“In some cultures, I’m sure it is,” she said defensively. “I followed the recipe word for word. I just thought I’d save some time by not waiting for the water to boil before I put the pasta in there. It was an honest mistake!”

“Even you have to admit it wasn’t good,” he said.

She relaxed and grinned sheepishly at him. “Okay, okay. It wasn’t one of my better moments. Okay, I promise not to cook that for you ever again. If I can’t microwave it, it’s probably not a good idea for me to try it. I guess we’ll be eating out a lot. And you’ll be doing the majority of the cooking.”

“I think that’s a fair trade,” he said, twirling her around again.

Hermione yawned and looked down at her watch. It was nearly midnight.

“Sleepy?” he asked her.

She nodded. “I think we’ve done enough for the day.”

He pulled her to him and shook his head.

“We haven’t done enough for today?” she asked him in disbelief. “Surely, you don’t want to continue painting?”

He shook his head again and leaned in to kiss her. It was a long, slow, deep kiss that left her somewhat lightheaded and dazed.

“Oh,” she teased. “I guess you wanted to put together those bookshelves, then?”

He kissed her again.

“Or maybe it was assemble the entertainment center?’”

Again, he kissed her, and pulled down the strap of her camisole top and placed soft, sweet kisses on her shoulder.

“Or,” she said breathlessly. “Was it more painting?”

He looked at her in mock exasperation. ‘I’m trying to seduce you.”

“Oh!” she said, taking her hand and slapping her forehead. “I should have known! How could I have been so stupid! You’ll do anything to get out of doing any extra work, won’t you? Well, I guess I’m stuck with you now---“

She was cut off by her husband picking her up and putting her across his shoulders.

He made a movement toward the bedroom with his wife protesting all the way.

“This is totally barbaric,” she said.

“And you love every minute of it,” he teased.

“Well,” she said, hitting him on the back. “I just wanted to voice my opinion on it.”

“Duly noted, sweetheart,” he said, as he kicked open the door of the bedroom. “Duly noted.”

Author’s note: Well, that’s it for now, guys. The next chapter will take place five years in the future…I hope that you won’t be disappointed with me. Stick with me, people. Stick with me. Please. Please? Come on, you know you want to! Don’t leave me alone out here! Stick with me. It will be worth it.

Author’s note: I know this might be confusing, but timeline wise, Hermione and Harry were married for another three years after the events of the last chapter. Something traumatic happened that will be alluded to briefly here that led to their breakup. You will find out in later chapters what it was. This chapter lets you know what Hermione has been up to since the end of their marriage.

Thank you to all who have reviewed. A special thanks to Heaven for all the help and encouragement! And contrary to popular belief, I really don’t have it in for Harry & Hermione. I love them just as much as you guys do (really!).

Chapter Four
Time

Time, you left me standing there
Like a tree growing all alone
The wind just stripped me bare
Stripped me bare
Time, the past has come and gone, gone
The future's far away

(“Time” by Hootie & the Blowfish)

Five Years Later

New York City, New York

Hermione stood in front of her closet and surveyed the clothes before her in frustration. She honestly had no idea what to wear and she was running out of time. Andrew would be here in less than 30 minutes and she still had to blow dry her hair and put on her makeup and pick out an outfit. It certainly would have helped if he would have told her what they would be doing or where they would be going, but he’d been tightlipped about it. The only thing he’d divulged to her was that she needed to look nice.

Did he mean “nice-casual” or did he mean “nice-formal” or “nice semi-formal”? She had a feeling it was something big as he’d been looking quite pleased with himself. Though, honestly Hermione had no idea what he had in store.

She usually wasn’t running so late, but at the last minute she’d had to fit in two parent-teacher conferences at the end of the school day and both had lasted much longer than she’d intended or planned.

When she’d arrived in New York two years ago, she’d enrolled at NYU taking childhood education courses. She’d obtained her certification soon after and for the past year had taught fifth grade at one of the public schools in Brooklyn. She’d always seen herself doing something in the education field. Though her job could be quite demanding, it had also been very rewarding. She enjoyed teaching her students and felt that she was making a difference in their lives. That was what meant most to her---that she was making a difference.

Her roommate, Abby Scanlon, was perched on Hermione’s bed eating a pint of ice cream and staring at her roommate in amusement.

“You’re not making a life-altering decision, Hermione,” Abby said, as she took another bite of her Cherry Garcia Ben & Jerry’s ice cream. “Just pick an outfit and get dressed. The clock is ticking, you know.”

Hermione turned to her roommate and scowled. “I know. I know. I just don’t know what to wear. Andrew has this annoying habit of being vague sometimes. I mean, what if I choose to wear jeans and a blouse and he shows up in a tuxedo?”

Abby looked thoughtfully at her roommate. “Well, if I were you, I’d wear your little black dress. My mom always says you can never go wrong with an LBD.”

“Do you think?” Hermione asked, taking the dress in question out and holding it against her terry cloth robe.

Abby nodded. “You better get a move on. Loverboy will be here soon.”

“Why do you insist on calling him that?” Hermione said, taking the dress with her and heading back to the bathroom.

“Because I know it gets on your nerves,” Abby said, picking up a magazine from Hermione’s bedside table and thumbing through it as she finished her ice cream.

“You don’t like him, do you?” Hermione called to her.

Abby frowned. “It’s not that I don’t like him, per se. It’s just that at times he seems a little too good to be true. But, I guess it’s to be expected. What with him being the son of the governor and all, I guess that slick image comes naturally to him. He has political blood in his veins.”

Hermione stuck her head out of the bathroom and frowned at Abby.

“You just haven’t gotten the chance to get to know him,” she said. “He’s really sweet and funny when you get to know him. His father is always pushing him to campaign all the time. If you ask me, he would like to see Andrew in the White House someday.”

“And you could be First Lady?” Abby teased. “Oh my Lord! I’m sharing an apartment with the future First Lady of the United States.”

“Oh for heaven’s sake!” Hermione said, laughing. “Will you quit being so dramatic! He did ask if I wanted to go with him to Australia for Christmas.”

“Australia, huh?” Abby asked, impressed. “But, I have a feeling that isn’t all he’s going to ask you.”

“What are you talking about?” Hermione asked, as she began applying her makeup.

Abby stood up and walked over to the bathroom and grinned in amusement as she watched Hermione quickly and expertly put on her eye makeup, blush and lipstick.

“I’m talking about ‘The Big Question’, Miss Granger. You know him getting down on his knees, asking for your hand in marriage. Blah, blah, blah.”

“Spoken like a true cynic,” Hermione said, with a laugh. “It’s too early for that anyway. And quit being so dramatic, Abby. Could you please get my pantyhose and my slip from the dresser? I forgot to bring them in here with me.”

Abby sighed and walked over to the dresser. She placed her now empty ice cream container on the top of the dresser and called back to Hermione, “Which drawer are they in?”

Hermione called back. “Top drawer, please.”

Abby opened the drawer and rooted around for the slip and pantyhose, but as she did so, she caught sight of a picture frame. Curiosity got the better of her as she picked the frame up and saw a very handsome man with piercing green eyes staring back at her. He looked to be in his early twenties.

Now that Abby thought about it, Hermione had never really been all that forthcoming with details about her past, especially about past relationships. She always seemed to change the subject rather expertly whenever Abby mentioned old boyfriends or romance problems. On numerous occasions, Abby had asked her and each time, she’d come up empty-handed. She knew her roommate was hiding something, but she didn’t want to press her to talk about something she obviously didn’t want to share. But, as Abby stared at the handsome man in the photograph, she knew that she had to ask Hermione who this man was and why his photograph was tucked away in her dresser drawer.

“Did you find them?” Hermione asked impatiently, coming out of the bathroom and staring at Abby.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. She turned to face Hermione properly and held the frame up for her to see. “But I did find something else much more interesting. Do you mind telling me who Mr. Green Eyes is here?”

Hermione stopped dead in her tracks as she looked at the picture of Harry. She thanked her lucky stars it wasn’t a magical photo and that Harry hadn’t been moving around inside the photograph. No one in America knew who and what Hermione really was. She’d planned on keeping it that way.

When she’d left England two years ago, she’d closed that chapter on her life. She’d vowed to put the painful memories behind her and start her life anew. A life of her own. A life where she wasn’t thought of as Harry’s wife or Harry’s childhood friend. It was very difficult; to say the least, to leave everything she’d known and everyone she’d loved behind. But when…well, she didn’t like to think about the main reason she’d left. It was much too heartbreaking to remember. But, no matter what she did or how she tried to forget it, it was always there and it had left a hole in Hermione that she didn’t know could ever be filled.

“It’s no one,” Hermione said quickly, taking the frame from her roommate and tucking it back inside the drawer. She took out her slip and pantyhose and headed back to the bathroom. She closed the door firmly behind her.

“No one?” Abby repeated, unconvinced. “You should have seen the look on your face when you saw no one’s picture. Your eyes kind of sparkled there for a minute. Is Mr. Green Eyes the reason you left England?”

There was no response. Obviously, Abby had hit a nerve. She knew she ought to let this go, but for some reason, she couldn’t.

“Hermione?”

There was still more silence from the bathroom. After a couple of seconds, Abby heard the hair dryer click on. Defeated, Abby went back over to the drawer and pulled out the photo again.

“Whoever you are, Mr. Green Eyes,” Abby said, looking at the photo, “You most definitely aren’t ‘no one’ to Hermione.”

*******

Hermione brushed Abby ’s questions off as best she could. Luckily, she’d been saved by the bell…the doorbell as it were. But, it wasn’t Andrew who greeted her, but the limo driver. The driver politely explained that Andrew was running late as well and asked for the car service to pick her up and bring her to the destination.

Andrew Keegan was the only son of Joseph Andrew Keegan, New York’s second term governor. He was 30 years old and graduated from Harvard Law School. Already one of the top young legal minds in the country, Andrew worked for one of the most prestigious law firms in the state. His specialty was civil law and he’d quickly made a name for himself taking on the tobacco industry and winning millions of dollars for his clients.

He was the epitome of tall, dark and handsome. He stood at just over 6’2 and had short brown hair. He had an athletic build and Hermione couldn’t remember a time when he didn’t look absolutely put together. He was also one of the sweetest and funniest men she’d ever met in her life. After what had happened to her, she needed someone like him in her life. He knew all the right things to say and do and he loved her.

She hadn’t been looking to fall in love when she’d met Andrew. In fact, she’d pretty much settled on staying single and alone for the rest of her life in the wake of what had happened in London. She’d met him at the New York City Public Library of all places. She’d go there every weekend and get lost in the stacks and stacks of books. She’d been carrying a heavy stack of books to the checkout counter when she’d bumped into one Andrew Keegen who had politely helped her pick up the books.

She could still remember how adorably apologetic he’d been. To make up for his clumsiness, he offered to take her out for coffee. Her first response had been to politely turn him down, but he’d persisted and she’d agreed. To her surprise, they sat in the coffeehouse for nearly two hours talking and talking. He’d asked her out and again to her surprise she’d said yes. Now nearly a year into their courtship, things were progressing quite nicely. She didn’t feel for him as strongly as she had for Harry, but that was to be expected. What she and Harry had was a once in a lifetime sort of love. Hermione didn’t think a person could be so lucky to find that twice in a lifetime.

Again, she tried to not think about him so much. He was in her past now. Her life back then was in her past now. She hadn’t seen him in two years. It was strange, she couldn’t help but think that someone who had been such a huge part of her life, who defined who she was and how she saw herself was not an everyday presence in her life.

When she started thinking like this, she reminded herself that you can never go back. Once you decide to put the past behind you, you had to stick to it. Thinking about what could have been and what had been was only going to make her sad.

She hoped that he was doing okay. What had happened had affected him just as much as it had her. Part of the problem, she knew now, was how neither of them confided in the other about how much it had affected them.

She’d met with a New York City attorney shortly after arriving in New York City. The divorce papers were drawn up within weeks and they’d been sent to London four times. Each time the papers were sent back, unsigned. This infuriated her to no end. For all intents and purposes, their marriage was over. All that he had to do was sign the papers. Why was he being so difficult?

In the past two years, she hadn’t spoken to anyone from her old life. This included her parents, Ron, Lavender, and Parvati. She couldn’t give her parents the satisfaction of knowing that they were right all along.

“Miss Granger?” a voice called to her, breaking her out of her reverie.

She looked up and saw the driver turned around in his seat, staring at her.

“We’re here,” he said.

Hermione nodded and looked out the window as the driver got out of the car to open the door for her. As he did so, she noticed that they were in a back alley of some sorts.

“Where are we?” Hermione asked, a little uneasy.

“Mr. Keegan asked us not to say anything,” the driver said. “He asked that I just escort you inside.”

Hermione looked around the alley uncertainly as the driver led her through a set of double doors and then down a dark corridor. To her relief, she caught sight of Andrew standing at the end of the hall.

He looked quite handsome standing against the wall, beaming at her. She couldn’t help grinning back at him.

“So have you decided yet?” he asked her when she finally reached him. She stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek.

“Decided about what?”

“Australia,” he said, as he took her hand and led her down another long corridor.

“Australia?” Hermione asked him, suspiciously. “That’s four months away, Andrew. You want me to decide on that now?”

They walked through another set of double doors and into a dark room.

“I was thinking 300 to 400 guests,” he said, as he stopped walking and put his arm around her.

“For Christmas?” she asked him, in disbelief.

“Not for Christmas,” he asked.

“Andrew?” Hermione asked, “Are you on some sort of medication? What’s going on? Where are we?”

Hermione blinked in surprise as all around her lights turned on. She looked around the room in shock to find that she was standing in the middle of Tiffany & Co. All around them, associates stood at jewelry cases, beaming at her and looking at her expectantly. She felt her hands beginning to tremble as she looked over at Andrew who moved to stand in front of her. He took her trembling hand in his and got down on one knee.

“Oh my God,” Hermione whispered.

“Hermione Jane Granger,” he said, smiling up at her. “Will you do me the incredible honor of marrying me?”

“Oh my God,” Hermione repeated. It was all that she really knew to say. “Are you sure? I mean, if you’re not, we could just go back out to the car. It’s not even been a year, Andrew.”

“Shhhh,” Andrew said, getting to his feet. He took both her hands in his and looked deep into her eyes. “You know that I never, ever do anything rash, and that I never ask questions that I don’t already know the answers to, but at the risk of being rejected again. I’m going to ask you one more time.”

He got back down on one knee and looked up at her. “Hermione, will you marry me?”

“Yes,” she said, smiling down at him. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

He got to his feet quickly and swooped her up in his arms, twirling her around as the sales associates all beamed back at the happy couple.

When he put her down, he pointed at the numerous displays of rings. “Pick one.”

****

Thirty minutes later, she and Andrew were in the back of the limo on the way to a fundraiser at the governor’s mansion. He’d explained that he hadn’t told her about that part of the evening because he knew she’d never really liked fancy parties like this. It wasn’t her scene, she always told him, but he wanted to show off his fiancée. When he’d told her this, she’d teased him about being so cocky and assured that she would say yes.

“I can’t believe you did all of that,” she said, looking down at the gold engagement band on her finger. It was truly an exquisite ring.

He leaned in and kissed her softly. “I’d do anything for you, Mione.”

She grimaced a little at the nickname he’d given her. She’d never liked that nickname and anyone who’d tried to use it in her presence she’d always let them know that she didn’t care for it at all. But, Andrew seemed to be stuck on it, and she figured she’d allow him to call her that. She’d just have to start calling him “Drew” or “Andy” which she knew he also disliked.

At that moment, Andrew’s mobile phone rang and he answered it after giving his fiancée a quick kiss on the cheek and a quick apology for the interruption.

As she looked out the window, she couldn’t help but remember the last time she’d been proposed to.

(Flashback)

They’d been outside for nearly 20 minutes and Harry hadn’t said anything. They’d sat at the picnic table in the backyard. Hermione had told him all about her disastrous conversation with her parents, but he’d only contributed a “uh-huh” and a “yeah” when prompted. His mind was no doubt elsewhere. And if she wasn’t mistaken, he was quite nervous about something. Every few seconds, he looked over at her as if he was about to say something, but he would stop short before saying what he so obviously wanted to say.

“Harry?” she asked him, as he paced in front of her for what seemed like the thousandth time.

“Hmmm?” he asked, distractedly.

“What are you on about?” she asked him, concerned.

He stood still and looked at her.

She put a hand to her mouth. “Oh! It’s something bad, isn’t it? What is it? Haven’t we had enough bad news for a lifetime! Please tell me it’s not anything bad!”

He stepped toward her and put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“It’s not bad,” he said reassuringly. “At least, I don’t think it is. I’m kind of hoping that you won’t either.”

She looked at him, her eyebrows raised. “Okay. What is it?”

“I’ve thought about this for a long time,” he said, running a hand nervously through his hair. “I’ve even practiced what I’d say to you in front of the mirror. Crazy, I know!”

She smiled. She knew all too well about practicing speeches in front of a mirror.

“I just wanted everything to be perfect and I wanted to say all the right things,” he said. “And then I figured what my problem was. You can think about something all you want to, but you aren’t really going to know what you’d do or say until that moment comes and you have to do it.”

He took her hands in his and she smiled warmly at him, willing him to go on.

“Just say it,” she said, stroking his hand with her thumb. “You can tell me anything, you know that, right?”

He nodded. With a deep breath and a smile, he looked into her eyes and he knew what he wanted to say. And he knew that this was the right time to say it.

“We’ve been through so much together,” he began. “You’ve been by my side through everything---good and bad. You’ve been the one constant in my life. When I’ve felt lost or like the whole world was falling apart, I could look to you for comfort and you’d always be there. I don’t know what I did to deserve it, but I’m grateful to whatever brought us together.”

Tears shone in her eyes as he spoke.

“And I know we’re young and I know people will tell us we’re crazy,” he said, with a slight laugh. “But, if you’ll have me, Hermione Jane Granger…” his voice trailed off and he let go of her hands. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. Hermione felt her hands shaking as he got down on one knee. He opened up the box and she saw the most stunning sterling silver diamond engagement ring.

“If you’ll have me,” he repeated, looking up at her. “I want to marry you. Will you marry me?”

She didn’t know what to say. She was stunned, shocked, amazed, and touched all at the same time.

“What do you say?” he prompted, smiling up at her hopefully. “Yes, no, get lost? What will it be?”

She gave a laugh as she smiled back at him, through her tears.

“You want to marry me?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“No,” he said. “Professor McGonagall! Of course, you!”

She chuckled.

“Well?” he asked her.

“This is a bit sudden, Harry,” she said thoughtfully. “We’re only 17.”

”I’ll be 18 in July and so will you in September,” he said.

She grinned.

He got to his feet and dusted the dirt from his trousers.

“You don’t have to answer now,” he said, a touch of disappointment evident in his voice. “Take all the time you need to decide. I don’t want to pressure you. This is a big step.”

She nodded.

“We’d better, um, get back inside,” he said calmly. This wasn’t how he’d expected it to go. Maybe Ron was right, he should have waited.

Hermione was shaking her head at him.

“What?” he asked her, confused.

“Harry!” she said, getting off the picnic table and walking over to him.

”I don’t need time to think about it,” she said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“You don’t?”

She shook her head.

“I’ll marry you,” she said, her eyes twinkling at him.

“You will?”

Again, she nodded. “Unless you’ve changed your mind?”

This time, he shook his head vehemently. “Not a chance.”

He wrapped her up in his arms and twirled her around, and she laughed with delight.

When he finally put her down, she wrapped her arms around him and they kissed, sort of putting a seal on the deal. When he broke the kiss, he pulled the ring from the box and put it on Hermione’s trembling finger.

“That’s just as it should be,” Harry said, giving her a kiss.

“It’s perfect,” Hermione agreed. “Absolutely perfect.”

As she sat in the backseat of the limousine, she couldn’t help but remember how young and hopeful they’d both been then. It seemed like a lifetime ago, but in actuality it had only been six years since he’d proposed to her on graduation night. She never would have dreamed that they’d ever be apart, but here they were, an ocean between them both literally and figuratively.

She looked over at Andrew who was hanging up from his phone call and who looked out the window and announced that they were finally here.

Hermione nodded.

“You ready for the paparazzi?” he asked her, half joking. Andrew was one of the most eligible bachelors in both the state and the country. The tabloid press as well as the mainstream press had speculated for months about who had finally caught the elusive bachelor’s eye. So far they’d just reported on him dating a school teacher from Brooklyn. She didn’t like the attention from the photographers and the reporters. Andrew was right. She liked spending her evenings at home, watching a movie or curled up with a good book. This wasn’t the life she would have chosen for herself. But, Andrew being who he was and the bright future his father had planned for him, Hermione had a feeling she better get used to this sort of attention.

As they passed quickly through the parade of photographers, Hermione exhaled as they finally made it inside the comforts of the governors’ mansion. The governor and his wife were greeting guests and looked up expectantly when they saw their only son walk in with Hermione.

Truth be told, Hermione wasn’t really sure if she liked the governor. He’d never been anything but friendly to her, but he somehow reminded her a little of Cornelius Fudge, the old Minister of Magic. She knew it was silly to think that. She’d only been in his company a handful of times, but she honestly couldn’t say that she felt immediately at ease around him. In fact, it was just the opposite. She sometimes felt as if she was in the middle of an interrogation whenever she was around him.

She was about to shake his hand in greeting when Elizabeth Keegan, Andrew’s mother gasped audibly as she noticed the ring on Hermione’s finger.

“Oh!” she said, taking Hermione’s hand. “Are you engaged?”

Elizabeth didn’t give Hermione a chance to respond before enveloping her in a big hug. Andrew laughed and joked, “I’ve decided to make an honest woman out of her, Mom.”

“Andrew!” Hermione exclaimed, blushing.

“Get used to it, dear,” Elizabeth joked. “Congratulations!”

“Thank you,” Hermione said warmly.

She noticed that the governor had yet to crack a smile.

“Dad?” Andrew asked him.

“Congratulations, son,” the governor said as warmly as he could muster. “Congratulations, Hermione.”

Instead of a hug, the governor just shook her hand. Elizabeth gave her husband a stern look, but took Hermione and Andrew by the hands and led them into the banquet room.

Joseph Keegan was about to follow them when he stopped one of his advisors and pulled him off to the side of the room, out of earshot of his family.

“Yes, sir?” the advisor asked.

”Find out everything you can on a Hermione Jane Granger,” Joseph said firmly.

“Everything?” the advisor asked.

“Everything,” Joseph said. “Keep me posted.”

The advisor nodded and Joseph walked into the banquet room and walked over to Andrew and Hermione, who were still chatting with Elizabeth.

“I would like to welcome you to our family, Hermione,” he said coolly.

His tone was neither welcoming nor friendly, but neither Andrew nor Elizabeth picked up on it. They just beamed back at him. Hermione, on the other hand, felt as if one of the happiest evenings of her life was just the start of something that could end very badly indeed.

****
Sometime after 1 a.m., Hermione finally made it back to her apartment. Andrew had mentioned something about wanting her to come home with him, but she had begged off saying that Abby was upset about something and she wanted to check on her. He’d sulked a little, but said he’d understood and would call tomorrow to check on her.

The lights were off in the apartment and Hermione knew that Abby was asleep, but she had to tell her the news. She dropped her shawl and purse on the couch and walked quickly to Abby’s room. She knocked lightly on the door and without waiting for an answer, opened the door and crept over to Abby’s bed. She gently nudged her and Abby woke up with a start.

“Geez, Hermione!” Abby said sleepily. “I was in the middle of the best dream. It was me and Tom Cruise on an island…”

“Abby!” Hermione said impatiently, leaning over to turn Abby’s bedside lamp on. “I’m in the middle of a crisis!”

“Okay,” Abby said, rubbing her eyes. “What is it?”

She sat up in her bed and gasped when Hermione put her hand in front of her face.

“I told you he was going to ask you!” Abby said, examining the ring. “Wow!”

She listened excitedly as Hermione shared the details of the proposal and the fundraiser at the governor’s mansion.

“So, what’s the problem?” Abby asked her, confused. “Most girls would be beside themselves with excitement. You, however, look as if someone just told you that you were banned from the library.”

Hermione looked down at Abby’s comforter, unsure of how to say this.

“This has something to do with Mr. Green Eyes, doesn’t it?” Abby pressed.

Hermione nodded. “Mr. Green Eyes has a name, Abby.”

“And it would be…?”

“Harry,” Hermione said softly. “Harry Potter.”

“And who is he to you?”

Hermione looked up at Abby. “He’s my husband.”

Abby’s jaw dropped. “You were married?”

Hermione shook her head. “I still am married.”

“Oh, dear,” Abby said. “You have got to tell me everything. Start from the beginning and leave no details out.”

Hermione sighed as she began to tell Abby all the details of her life as one Hermione Jane Granger Potter. She left out the magical parts, of course, but by the end of the story, Abby was still staring at her in shock and amazement.

“What are you going to do?” Abby asked her.

“I have no bloody idea,” Hermione said.

******************

Author’s note: Oh, you guys don’t know how I struggled with this one. Writer’s block is not a pretty thing. I think they should invent something that cures it, but it took me forever to write this. I apologize for that! I know you guys don’t like to wait. I promise not to delay in updating… I appreciate the reviews and hope that you will let me know what you really think of this…good, bad, or indifferent.

Chapter Five

Here Without You

A hundred days have made me older
since the last time that I saw your pretty face
a thousand lies have made me colder
and I don't think I can look at this the same
but all these miles that separate
disappear now when I’m dreaming of your face

I’m here without you baby
but you're still on my lonely mind
I think about you baby
and I dream about you all the time
I’m here without you baby
but you're still with me in my dreams

(Three Doors Down, “Here Without You”)

Harry awoke to the sounds of persistent, annoying knocks on his front door. He cursed as he reached for his glasses and knocked over the lamp in the process. Grumpily, he pulled back the sheets and duvet cover and got to his feet and scrambled sleepily for the door. His golden retriever, Sam, started barking loudly and kept running from Harry to the door and back.

“Easy, Sam,” Harry said groggily.

“Who is it?” he called out before opening the door.

“The happiest man in all of England,” said a voice from the other side of the door.

Harry opened the door to a positively beaming Ron. Ron’s smile faded as Sam pounced on him.

Harry pulled his dog back and tried not to laugh as he did so. Sam made no secret of not liking Ron and the feelings were mutual.

“That dog is possessed,” Ron said looking on hesitantly at the dog as Harry struggled to get the dog off of his friend.

“He only acts like that with you,” Harry said. It was true. Out of Ron’s presence, the dog was one of the most loving and docile creatures. Harry joked to his friends that if someone tried to break into the house, Sam would look up from his perch on the sofa and then snuggle back into his dog bed while the perpetrator took off with all his valuables.

Once the dog was safely tucked away in the bedroom, Ron walked into the house and breezed past Harry into the kitchen.

“You’re never going to believe what I’ve done!” Ron called out to him as he made his way for the kitchen where he walked over to the refrigerator and took out the carton of orange juice and poured himself a glass. Harry stared after his friend in utter disbelief.

“What?” Harry asked, taking a seat at the kitchen table and running his hand through his disheveled mop of hair.

“Well,” Ron said, grinning at him. “You know how the team had that game in Wales? Well, last night Luna and I went out for a bite to eat afterwards and she sort of asked me to marry her! Can you believe it? She asked me! I mean, I was floored I have to tell you. Because she’s always been the one insisting that she didn’t believe in marriage. She kept saying that if you loved each other that was all that you needed. And that we didn’t need titles such as husband and wife to define who we were to each other. So, imagine how surprised I was when she just springs the question on me. I told her that I was the one who was supposed to ask the question and she said that was just bollocks because since when were we the traditional couple? Well, I had to agree with her about that. Because if there’s anything she and I aren’t, it’s traditional and normal.”

Harry couldn’t help marveling at his friend’s animated description of the previous night’s events. Ron had hardly taken a breath when he started talking again.

“So, she gets out of her chair, walks over to me and gets down on one knee! The whole restaurant was watching, Harry! And she asks me if I want to get married. And before I knew what I was saying, I said ‘okay’. So, I guess this means that I---Ron Weasley---am getting married to Loony Lovegood.”

Harry was laughing by the time Ron finished.

“Congratulations mate!” Harry said, getting up from his chair and hugging his best friend. “So she finally beat you into submission?”

Ron nodded happily.

“Have you told your mum yet?”

“Not yet,” Ron said, shaking his head. “We’re going over the Burrow later this evening. You’ll probably hear Mum shrieking from here. You’re more than welcome to tag along.”

Harry shook his head. “No, thanks. I actually have plans tonight.”

Ron raised his eyebrows at his friend. “Hot date?”

Harry shook his head as he picked up the carton of orange juice and poured himself a glass.

“So where are you going?”

“Final mission,” Harry said. “I agreed to help Remus out one more time.”

“I still can’t believe you’re giving all of it up,” Ron said.

“Well, it’s time,” Harry said. “It just isn’t what I thought it would be.”

“But, you were so good at it,” Ron said.

“Yeah, but it cost me everything, Ron.”

“You know that isn’t true,” Ron retorted. “What happened would have happened even if you had been here.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Harry said. “It doesn’t matter now. It happened. There’s nothing I can do to change it. You know that I’ve been thinking about quitting for months now. It just seems right.”

“So this is it?” Ron asked, in amazement. “The Boy Who Lived---Hero Extraordinaire is giving up the Life Saving Game?”

“To get his life back, yes he is,” Harry said. “Besides, there are still more than capable aurors out there. The world isn’t going to end because I stop being one.”

Ron nodded in understanding. “Well, what are you going to do when you grow up?”

Harry laughed. “Be just like you?”

“You’re going to take up Quidditch again?” Ron asked.

Harry shook his head. “That ship has sailed, too.”

“You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

“When the time’s right,” Harry said. “I’ll tell you.”

“Fair enough,” Ron said. “So have we heard from the former Mrs. Potter lately?”

Harry froze at the mention of Hermione.

“Sorry about that,” Ron said sheepishly.

“It’s okay,” Harry said. “And besides she’s still Mrs. Potter.”

“Send the papers back again, did you?”

Harry nodded.

“You know that is going to piss her off, don’t you?”

Again, Harry nodded.

“There is something I’ve been meaning to ask you, Harry. The two of you have been separated for two years. You’ve not spoken or seen each other since that time. For all intents and purposes, your marriage is over. So, why don’t you sign the papers?’

Harry looked over at his friend. These were questions he had asked himself over and over again.

“Because,” Harry said quietly. “If she is so hell-bent on ending what we have, she should get her arse back over here and hand me the damn papers herself.”

“Haaa!” Ron exclaimed. “So, you’re telling me that if she showed up here and handed you the papers, you’d sign them?”

Harry set his juice glass down. “Yes.”

To Harry’s shock, Ron began to laugh.

”What?”

“That’s rich,” Ron said, shaking with laughter. “That’s good! Yeah, I’d believe that when I see Severus Snape actually smiling! Harry, wake up and smell the gillyweed! If Hermione came back here, you wouldn’t sign those papers! And you know why, don’t you? Because you still love her! And I’m willing to bet my life that she still loves you, too.”

Harry felt anger rising up in him at his friend’s word. He would never tell anyone that he suspected the same things as well.

“You’re just too damn stubborn and so is she,” Ron said. “I love you both. I do. But you’re both being incredibly stupid. She’s not coming back, Harry. I don’t want to accept that anymore than you do, but she’s not. Maybe it’s time to move on.”

“I have moved on,” Harry said defensively.

“Try telling that to someone who hasn’t known you for as long as I have,” Ron said, heading for the door. “Maybe, they’ll believe you. Because, I sure the hell don’t.”

****

Later that morning, Harry set off for a run around the village. He was stressed out and Ron’s words had bothered him a lot more than he’d cared to admit. He knew his friend was right. He still loved Hermione. He’d tried not to think about her, but that had been futile. Trying not to think about her was like trying to tell him not to breathe.

Although she no longer lived in the cottage with him, Hermione’s memory lingered in every room. It had been quite difficult to stay there after she’d left, but he had done it. His friends had suggested a move to start over, but he’d stubbornly told him that this was his home. He hadn’t been the one to walk away. It had been Hermione. What he didn’t tell his friends, though he figured they all suspected, was that he stayed in the cottage because of the memories. He felt close to her here even though she was gone and had been gone for nearly two years.

Logically, he knew that he should move on. She had done so. She had a new life that didn’t include him.

Four times, she’d sent the divorce papers courtesy of the New York law offices of Smith, Stanley, & Stevens. Four times, he’d sent them back. He’d reasoned with himself that he wouldn’t sign those papers until she hand delivered them herself. But was Ron right? Would he sign them if she showed up?

I shouldn’t even think about that, because it’s not going to happen. She’s gone.

How had everything fallen apart for them in such a seemingly short period of time? Although he knew they were both equally to blame, it was in his nature to take the majority of the blame on himself.

With Hermione being a full-time student and he being an auror, they sometimes felt like two ships passing in the night, to put it in clichéd terms. But, they’d made the most of it and they made it work.

If there was one downside to his job as an auror aside from the danger, it was the time he had to spend away from home and from his wife. Most of the time, he had no idea how long he’d be away and Hermione would worry, as she always did. Sometimes, it would be hours, sometimes days, and sometimes weeks.

While Harry was away, Hermione would have her studies to keep her busy. At University, she’d concentrated on Charms & Arithmancy. She’d expressed to her husband on a number of occasions her dismay at not settling on a set career of choice. For the first time in her life, she’d told him, she had no idea what she wanted to do with her life. She’d said she was leaning toward either a career in teaching or opening up her own bookshop. Harry had told her that whatever she decided, he would offer his support and encouragement in any way he could.

To this day, he could still smile as he remembered those romantic reunions they would have when he return from the latest mission.

(Flashback)

Harry hadn’t been home for nearly three weeks. He was bone-tired and weary and was looking forward to getting a quick kip before Hermione returned home from her afternoon classes. He was disappointed that she wouldn’t be there to welcome him home straightaway, but at least this way he could rest up before she returned. She probably wouldn’t find him too appealing in the state he was in. He’d worn the same clothes for nearly four days as he’d been involved in some raids that had called for overnight surveillance and extensive stakeouts. The part of the country they’d been bogged down in hadn’t exactly been full of all the amenities, so to speak.

“She’d probably want a divorce on the spot if she saw me like this,” he said, to himself, as he opened the door to the cottage and sighed as he surveyed his home. He dropped his coat on the coat rack and placed his suitcase by the door. He walked purposely toward the bathroom nearly tasting the shower that awaited him.

As he walked past the sofa in the sitting room, he saw to his surprise that Hermione was fast asleep. She’d obviously been reading as a couple of books were open on the coffee table and one was across her chest. She looked peaceful and warm curled up in an old Gryffindor blanket. As he walked over to her, he noticed that her skin was a little pale. He smiled as he kneeled down beside her and with his hand softly brushed a strand of her hair out of her face. His fingers lingered on the soft skin of her cheek and he couldn’t resist kissing her forehead.

She stirred at his touch and her eyes flickered as she tried to focus. She smiled at her husband and lifted her hands up to her own eyes as she rubbed them sleepily.

“Hmmm,” she said groggily. “Am I dreaming?”

“No,” he said, chuckling. “I was about to ask myself the same question. I can’t believe Hermione Granger Potter has skived off her classes to sleep in all day.”

She smirked at him and sat up on the sofa. “Well, Hermione Granger Potter hasn’t been feeling that well these past few days, so Hermione Granger Potter is taking it easy for once in her life.”

“Why is Hermione Granger Potter talking about herself in the third person?” Harry asked, teasingly.

“Because her husband smells like something Crookshanks drug inside,” Hermione said, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

“Well, let’s see how good you smell when you’ve not had a decent bath in days,” he said.

“Go take a shower, you filthy beast,” Hermione said, pushing him away.

“Okay, okay,” he said. “I don’t even get a kiss?”

“You don’t even get a hug,” she said, pointing toward the bathroom. “Ughhhh, go Harry, now!”

He laughed and said, “Alright, alright.”

Just as he was about to make his way around the corner, he turned and looked at Hermione. “You sure you’re alright? You look a little pale.”

“I’m fine,” she said. “We’ll talk when you get out of the shower.”

He smiled at her. “Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

He quickly showered and shaved and changed into a pair of jeans and a faded grey sweatshirt. His hair was still damp as he came back out into the sitting room and found Hermione, sitting up on the couch and reading. He grinned as he walked into the room and came behind her and pushed her hair back and planted a kiss on the back of her neck. She shuddered in pleasure as he did so and he leaned in and said, “Do I pass inspection? Can I get a proper hello now from my wife?”

She leaned in and took in his scent and ruffled his damp hair and said, “You’ll do.”

He smiled and came back around the sofa and sat down beside her and kissed her properly. After a few moments, he settled back down on the sofa beside her and absently went through the owl post.

“Okay,” he said, putting down the envelopes. “What gives? Why did you really skive off your classes?”

Hermione closed her book and put in down on the coffee table. “Well, I told you that I wasn’t feeling too well the past few days. I thought it was just some sort of stomach flu, but it hung around and hung around so I decided to go to St. Mungo’s just to see what was going on.”

“Is everything okay?” he asked her, concerned. “I mean, it’s not something bad, is it?”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t think it’s bad at all.”

“Well,” he said, gently. “What is it?”

She giggled. “What color do you think we should paint the spare bedroom?”

“What?” he asked her bemusedly.

“What color do you think we should paint the spare bedroom?” she asked again. “We’re going to have to make a lot of changes.”

Harry stared at her in disbelief. “Hang on, Hermione. We were talking about your doctor’s appointment and now you’re on about painting the spare bedroom. Why won’t you tell me what happened?”

“I’ve been doing some thinking,” she continued as if she hadn’t heard a word he’d said. “And I really think the crib could go against the left wall and we could put a rocking chair by the window. And we have to have a changing table!”

“Crib? Changing table? Rocking chair?” he asked her, confused.

Hermione laughed and nodded. She raised her eyebrows at him.

Her words slowly began to sink in and a smile played at his lips. “Are you?” he asked, cautiously. “I mean, are you…are we….baby?”

She laughed and said sweetly, “Yes.”

“But how?” he asked quickly.

“How?” she repeated. “Well, Harry, if you don’t remember how exactly, we’ve got bigger problems than turning the guest bedroom into a nursery.”

“You know what I mean!” he said defensively.

“I’m a couple of months along,” she said, patting her stomach. “My due date’s in April.”

Harry looked speechless. Hermione beamed at him.

“Say something,” she said, taking his hands in hers. “You are happy, aren’t you?”

He grinned at her and cupped her face in his hands and kissed her softly.

“Happy doesn’t even begin to cover what I feel,” he said, taking her in his arms and holding her.

Later that evening, they both sat on the porch swing, enjoying the cool, crisp air. Hermione’s head was resting gingerly on Harry’s shoulder and he had his left arm wrapped around her shoulders, keeping her close.

“Let’s always live here,” she said, breaking the silence.

“It’s kind of a small house,” he said, with a laugh. “What if we have more children?”

“We can build on to the cottage,” Hermione said, reasonably. “This is the only place I could ever see us in. This is our home, Harry.”

He was about to respond in kind when she lifted her head up from his shoulder and looked at him properly. “Hang on. Exactly how many children do you see us having?”

“I don’t know,” he said, scratching his chin. “Six or seven. Well, enough for our own Quidditch team.”

Hermione stared at him as if he’d lost his mind. “Enough for own team? Need I remind you that it will be me who actually has the baby? Let’s see how I do with the first one before you start making plans for total Potter domination, okay?”

He held his hands up in surrender.

“I was only kidding,” he said.

Placated, she snuggled back into him.

“Well, do you think we’ll have a boy or a girl?” he asked her.

“It doesn’t matter as long as she or he is very happy and healthy.”

“Well,” Harry said, his eyes twinkling. “As long as they have your brains and good looks and my flying ability, how could they go wrong?”

“No child of mine is getting on a broom,” she said firmly.

Harry took his hand to Hermione’s tummy and leaned down to talk directly at her stomach. “She didn’t mean it. Don’t listen to your mum.”

Hermione playfully swatted his arm.

A serious expression came over his face as he caressed her cheek with his hand and then pulled her closer as they kissed passionately. He was about to deepen the kiss when Hermione pushed him away with her hand and got to her feet.

“Let’s go inside,” she whispered, taking his hand and leading him back inside the cottage. She turned to face him and said with her eyes aglow, “Welcome home, Harry.”

***

As he finished his run, he felt tears come to his eyes as he remembered how happy and hopeful they’d been that day. They had no idea that it wouldn’t last.

As he opened the door, Sam welcomed him back and Harry sat down on the sofa and wondered what his wife was doing at this very minute.

Stop thinking about her! It’s time to move on!

He looked over at Sam, who was staring back at him.

“Tell me how to do that, Sam,” he said, feeling foolish for talking to his dog like this. “Tell me how the hell am I supposed to do that?”

****

Back in New York, Hermione waited at the terminal for her flight to be called. She couldn’t believe she was going to go home to London.

There was no other way around it. She had to get the divorce from Harry.

I’ll be there a day, tops. I’ll make him sign these bloody papers and it’s going to be over and I can come back here and marry Andrew.

She opened up the envelope in her purse and took out the divorce papers and looked down at them. It seemed so strange to be holding these papers. It made it all seem real. She’d never really looked at them before in her attorney’s office. She’d just signed them and told the attorney she wanted this to be over as quickly as possible. All that was missing now was the signature of her husband.

My stubborn as a mule husband.

Andrew had insisted on driving her to the airport. She’d told him she was going back home to London to share the news with her parents. She certainly hadn’t told him she was going home to obtain a divorce from her first husband that he had no idea existed.

He’d wanted to come along with her, but to her relief, he’d been assigned a huge case that was going to prevent him from being able to.

She promised to send his love to her parents…who also had no idea that Andrew existed. She hadn’t spoken to her parents in two years, either. Their relationship had been strained since the day she’d told them she was marrying Harry. It had improved somewhat when they’d announced her pregnancy, but it had all fallen apart in the wake of the miscarriage.

Hermione was happy to hear the sound of her flight being called. She didn’t want to think about the painful past now. In a few hours, she’d be colliding with that painful past head on. There was no sense dwelling on it during the long plane ride.

She got up from her seat and walked toward the gate, steeling herself for whatever happened in London.

Please let this work with as little hassle as possible.

I’m fooling myself, aren’t I?

The airline attendant handed her back her boarding pass.

”Enjoy your flight to London, miss.”

Oh boy!

Author’s note: My goodness! This took forever to write, mainly due to a terrible case of the dreaded writer’s block. I wrote and rewrote and rewrote. I still don’t know if I’m satisfied. If you’re expecting a lovely reunion…you’ll be disappointed. But, don’t desert me. There is a method to my madness! Their will be happiness, but not for awhile. And you’ll learn soon enough what really happened…Don’t hate me! LOL! Please read and review!

Chapter Six

Separate Ways

“Here we stand
Worlds apart, hearts broken in two, two, two
Sleepless nights
Losing ground
I'm reaching for you, you, you


Feelin' that it's gone
Can change your mind
If we can't go on
To survive the tide love divide”

(Journey, “Separate Ways”)

The plane touched down at Heathrow Airport shortly after 2 p.m. The flight had been quite long and although she’d brought some books with her to read during the flight, she might as well have left them home. She hadn’t read word one of any of the books she’d brought along in her carry-on bag.

She’d tried to carry on a conversation with a nice older woman who was visiting Europe for the first time ever. She’d complained good-naturedly about the fact that she was stuck back in coach while her older sister and traveling companion were living it up in first-class. Hermione had politely listened, but both she and the other woman knew Hermione’s thoughts were not in the here and now.

Ever since she’d told Abby the whole story about Harry (well, not entirely the whole story…she had left the magic parts out), she’d been able to think of nothing else. Abby had listened like a good friend and had said something that Hermione had thought about a number of times over the years, but had never voiced out loud to herself or to anyone else.

“I don’t understand,” Abby had said. “You guys sound like something out a fairy tale. So, you had problems. Everyone does. You can work those out. If you love each other enough, you can work them out. I don’t honestly understand why you left.”

And Hermione had given her the safe answer of “I had to.” Although Abby hadn’t known Hermione for very long, she did know her well enough to know that that wasn’t an acceptable answer. So, Hermione said the only thing that she could think of, “I don’t know.”

“Well, that’s more like it, then,” Abby had told her, trying to cheer her up.

She’d told Abby that night about her plans to get Harry to sign the papers. He obviously wasn’t responding via the post. It was time for desperate measures.

“I’m going back home to London,” she’d said firmly. “And I’m not leaving until I have his signature on these papers.”

Abby had looked at her, skeptically.

“What’s that look for?” Hermione has asked.

“You’re going home to London to see the love of your life again, Hermione,” Abby said, her tone indicating that this was the most obvious thing in the world.

“A man that I think you still love. And you think you’re just going to waltz back into his life, hand him some papers and that will be all there is?”

Hermione had nodded uncertainly.

“And I thought you were smart,” Abby had said seriously. “Things are never that easy and this thing isn’t going to be that easy, either. Not by a long-shot. And I think you’re fooling yourself big-time if you think it will be.”

Hermione had scoffed at this notion and had pretended that it was going to be just fine, but deep down she knew that Abby had a valid point. It was never easy for Hermione to admit she was wrong and with something as important as this, she couldn’t afford to be.

After collecting her luggage from baggage claim, she hailed a taxi that brought her to the Leaky Cauldron. Tom, the innkeeper, had been quite happy to see her and enveloped her in a warm hug. Hermione was glad that the pub wasn’t too crowded being as it was mid-afternoon. She checked into a room upstairs and unpacked her luggage. She freshened up a bit and then set off for Thackerey Drive.

She hadn’t changed too much in the past two years, appearance wise. She still had her brown hair that she’d amazingly been able to tame with the help of some Muggle hair-care products. She’d cut her hair recently and it now was shoulder-length and curly, instead of bushy and long. She had thought about changing her clothes before setting off for the cottage, but thought better of it. She decided to stay with her blue jeans and her red cotton v-neck t-shirt. She did grab a sweater from her suitcase in case the weather turned cooler. Despite herself, she checked her reflection in the mirror three times before finally walking out the door. Feeling silly, she rolled her eyes at her actions. She wasn’t meeting Harry for a date, after all. He probably wouldn’t care what she looked like these days, just as she shouldn’t care about what he looked like now.

But, you do.

That little voice inside her head was really starting to tick her off.

****

Thankfully, helping Remus with the mission hadn’t been anything more than a quick goodbye party from all his mates in the department. They’d met down at The Hogs’ Head and they’d all shared stories and tales from previous cases. It had been an enjoyable evening that had only been tempered by the fact that Harry came home, alone to any empty house. That wasn’t entirely true, however, as he had Sam.

In the two years he had been separated from Hermione, he hadn’t had a serious relationship with anyone. Sure, he’d received offers, but he didn’t feel it was fair to date someone casually while his heart belonged with anyone else. It’d be a waste of his time and their time and Harry didn’t need the hassle right now. Of course, Ron said it was a load of codswallop and that Harry was still carrying a torch for Hermione. He’d offered numerous times to set him up, but Harry had turned him down flat every time.

By no means had he lived the life of a monk, either. He’d had a couple of casual flings while on assignment (none while he and Hermione were still together, of course). Those women had just served a purpose as a warm body on a cold night. Harry had found out something about himself, though. He didn’t like doing that. When he thought something like that would make him feel better, it only made him feel worse.

Logically, of course, he knew he should move on. He was beginning to think that she wasn’t ever coming back. He just had to learn to accept it, once and for all. Which was why, he’d agreed to take Lisa Turpin to D.J. Malfoy’s birthday party in a couple of days. Lisa had been a classmate at Hogwarts’ and she worked in public relations for Ron’s Quidditch team. She seemed nice enough and it would be good to get out of the house for an evening, even if it was to a five-year old’s birthday party.

It seemed like all Harry did these days besides work was spend time at home with Sam, watching movies or working on his new venture.

When he and Hermione had went on their year long holiday after graduation, the trip soaked up a lot of Harry’s inheritance. Coupled with them being a newlywed couple struggling to make their way on their own, their funds had been depleted over the years. An Auror’s salary was good, but not great. He’d saved up money as he could as soon as he’d decided on what he wanted to do.

If all went well, things would be in place about three months from now. It was risky, and truth be told, he knew nothing about running his own business, but since when had he let risk and fear stop him? Besides, he knew that this was something he wanted to do. The more and more he worked on it, the more and more he became excited and happy about it. He hoped that it would be just what he needed to get what he’d always wanted; what he’d lost. In a few short months, he’d know.

At around 3 p.m., he was getting cabin fever and decided to take Sam for a walk around the neighborhood. The weather was absolutely fantastic and Harry grabbed Sam’s leash and the two of them set off for the walk around Thackerey Drive and into Diagon Alley.

****

Hermione knocked on the door for the second time. She peered into the windows, but couldn’t see or hear any activity at all.

What if he wasn’t home? What if I have come all this way and he’s off in bloody Russia or sodding Egypt?

“Harry!” she called, knocking at the door again.

“Excuse me, miss?”

Hermione turned around, startled.

“Can I help you?”

An older woman Hermione didn’t recognize was staring at her from across the street.

“I was looking for Harry Potter?” Hermione asked, stepping closer to the woman. She squinted as she tried to get a better look at the woman.

“Are you another one of those groupies coming to bother that poor boy? Hasn’t he been through enough these past few years than to have you girls coming around here wanting to save his soul? I think you should all leave him alone! He’s put up some wards you know to fend off your kind. Did you find out how to break them?”

Hermione shook her head. “I’m not a groupie, honestly. I’m his wife!”

The woman huffed. “Likely story! They all say that! They’re his wife or his long-lost sister!”

Hermione shook her head again. “Really, ma’am. I’m Hermione Granger Potter.”

The woman narrowed her eyes and took a few tentative steps toward Hermione.

“Well, I’ll be!” the woman exclaimed. “You sure are!”

Hermione smiled in relief.

Before Hermione could stop her, the woman gave her a warm hug. Hermione hesitated a moment before hugging her back.

“That husband of yours is such a kind man! Of course, I don’t have to tell you that, I’m sure! He’s got such a good heart. My husband Al and I moved in here a year and a half ago, and Harry’s always checking up on us to make sure we’re doing okay.”

Hermione couldn’t help but smile. That sounded exactly like Harry.

“I’m Madeline Stevens,” the woman said, extending her hand and smiling warmly at Hermione. “Everyone calls me Maddy.”

“Nice to meet you, Maddy,” Hermione said pleasantly, shaking her hand. She looked back across the street at the cottage.

“It was really sad about what happened between the two of you,” Maddy said sympathetically. “I still remember reading about it in the papers. It’s always sad to see someone break up especially two people who seemed to fit like a glove!”

Hermione shifted uncomfortably and averted her eyes from Maddy’s sympathetic gaze.

“Well, the important thing is that you’re home now,” Maddy said happily. “Home is where the heart is, isn’t that what they always say?”

“They do say that,” Hermione said, still looking at the ground. “They also say you can’t go home again, though, too, right?”

“Rubbish!” Maddy exclaimed. “That’s a bunch of codswallop if you ask me.”

“Maybe,” Hermione said, with a halfhearted laugh.

“Well, I won’t keep you too long, Hermione,” Maddy said. “I know you’re dying to see Harry. If he’s not answering the door, he’s probably out back or walking with Sam.”

“Sam?” Hermione asked.

Maddy didn’t divulge anything further about who this Sam person was. She just simply nodded as if everyone should know who Sam was. To Hermione’s surprise, she felt a wave of jealousy wash over her.

Could ‘Sam’ be short for Samantha? And who is this Samantha when she’s at home? And why is she after Harry? Is she some groupie? He’s not the type to go shagging every Samantha, Rachel and Cynthia. Or is he? Oh, bugger! Quit being jealous, Hermione! He has every right to shag whomever he wants to. You’re not together anymore. That little voice in my head is really, really starting to get on my nerves.

“I’m sure he’ll be along any moment,” Maddy said. “You could wait for him on the front steps. It’s such a lovely day to be outside.”

Hermione nodded, questions flooding in her mind about who this Sam person was. She focused her attention back to Maddy who said that she just put the kettle on and inquired about whether or not Hermione would like some tea. Hermione thanked her for the generosity, but told Maddy that she’d just wait for Harry across the street.

After saying polite goodbyes, Hermione walked slowly toward the cottage. She felt like she had when they’d take that long walk to the dungeons for Potions at Hogwarts. An overwhelming sense of dread came over her with each step. This was the hardest thing she’d ever done in her life. With each step, she told herself to focus. She told herself that it was silly to be scared to face Harry. He’d been her friend since she was 11 years old. He’d been the love of her life for as long as she could…

She hadn’t been sitting on the porch swing for more than two minutes when she saw him coming down the street. He was walking a dog and Hermione breathed a sigh of relief when she gathered that this must be the Sam that Maddy was referring to.

Although she felt as if she would faint at any moment, she got to her feet, somewhat shakily and began walking toward him. He hadn’t changed much. Neither had that feeling she used to get whenever he’d walk into a room. She could feel her stomach doing flip-flops and she felt a little lightheaded as she took him in properly for the first time in two years.

His hair was still as messy as ever, but it never looked anything short of adorable on him. It was shorter than she remembered and his skin was tanner than she recalled. He wore a pair of baggy khaki shorts and a simple white cotton t-shirt. Hermione grabbed hold of the railing for support.

She stared at him, willing him to look her away, but he was concentrating on steering Sam away from Maddy’s yard. He laughed as he tugged lightly on the leash and brought Sam back in the right direction. As he did so, his eyes caught sight of what he thought was a mirage. He stopped dead in his tracks as he saw her standing at the foot of the front steps. If he’d wanted to move, he couldn’t have. Neither could she.

Sam, however, broke the silence for them, by breaking free from Harry and making a beeline for Hermione. Before anyone knew what happened, Sam had pounced excitedly on Hermione, knocking her to the grass. Harry ran toward them, afraid that Sam was attacking Hermione. When he got closer, he could see that Sam had taken an instant liking to Hermione and was licking Hermione’s face. She was laughing.

“Sam!” Harry called, finally pulling him away from Hermione.

“It’s okay,” Hermione said, getting to her feet, and dusting herself off. “So, this is Sam.”

“Yeah, this is Sam,” Harry said, holding onto the leash and trying to prevent Sam from flying at Hermione, once again.

“He’s adorable!” Hermione said, getting back down to pet Sam, who nuzzled into her neck.

“He’s a handful,” Harry said, a cool tone to his voice. He walked past her briskly and started for the door.

“Harry,” Hermione said, staring after him.

“What?” he asked. He opened the door and ushered the dog inside and closed the door behind him. Sam barked loudly to let Harry know he wasn’t happy to be shut out from this conversation. They both chose to ignore the incessant barks coming from inside the cottage and Harry stepped back down off the porch to face Hermione.

“Why are you here?” he asked her.

“You know why I’m here!” Hermione said angrily. “I came all this way so your stubborn arse could sign these papers.”

She reached around into her pocketbook and pulled out the thick envelope. With shaking hands, she opened the envelope and took the papers out.

“See,” she said, showing them to him. “There’s one copy for you, one for me and one copy for the lawyers.”

He handed the papers back to her without so much as looking at them.

“Come on, Harry,” Hermione said, trying to keep her voice down. “Let’s just end this once and for all.”

Harry laughed.

“What’s so funny?” she asked, incredulously.

“Nothing,” he said, sitting down on the steps. “It’s just funny to me that you show up here after two years and without so much as a ‘Hello, Harry, nice to see you’ and expect me to sign papers that I haven’t even read yet.”

“You don’t have to read them,” Hermione spat back. “You know very well what they say. I’m not trying to take you for every knut and sickle you have! I just want to end this as quickly and as painlessly as possible.”

The snide smile he was wearing faded at her words. “Painlessly? For who? You?”

“It doesn’t have to be like this, Harry,” Hermione said, trying to reason with him.

“I bet your parents don’t even know you’re home,” Harry continued, getting up from the steps and walking back toward the door. “You know it nearly killed them when you cut them out of your life, too.”

“What?” Hermione asked, amazed. “Since when are you on their side?”

“I’m not on anyone’s side,” Harry said. “I’m just saying that you should get to your mum and dad’s house and let them know you’re okay and then we’ll talk about signing some papers.”

“You’re giving me an ultimatum?”

“I’m not giving you anything,” Harry said, walking into the house and closing the door firmly behind him.

Hermione stared after him indignantly and then quickly walked back up the stairs and tried to open the door, which was locked. She glared at it before taking her wand from her pocketbook and muttering, “Alohamora”. The door didn’t open.

Harry pulled open the blinds and smirked at her.

“Not going to work,” he said, before turning on his heels and walking into the kitchen.

Hermione resisted the urge to scream bloody murder when an idea came to her suddenly.

Harry walked quickly over to the refrigerator and pulled out a beer and effortlessly popped open the can and took a long swig. He felt a tap on his shoulder and nearly dropped the can when he turned around to see Hermione smiling broadly at him.

“I wasn’t the best in our class at Hogwarts for nothing, now was I?” she said smugly.

“Hermione!”

“Can’t we try and do this as civilized as possible,” Hermione said, watching as Harry walked past her again and Hermione followed him into the bedroom.

“What are you doing?” she asked, as she walked into the room.

“Leaving,” he said. “You should recognize the gesture.”

She scoffed.

“You should go and see your parents,” he said, turning to face her.

“That’s my business,” Hermione said coolly.

“Those people are the only family you have,” he said to her. “You should go and see them and let them know you’re okay.”

Hermione chose to ignore his words. “The only reason you’re not signing these papers is because I want you too!”

“Wrong!” he retorted. “The reason I won’t sign them is because right now pissing you off is quite enjoyable to me.”

He took off his shirt and Hermione couldn’t help staring at him.

“W-what are you doing?”

“Changing clothes,” he said. “You’ve seen this before, right?”

She averted her eyes. “Do you have to do that here?”

“It’s my bedroom,” he said. “Would you rather I did it in the middle of Diagon Alley?”

Her voice shaky, she said, “I don’t care where you get dressed or don’t get dressed!”

He pulled on a fresh shirt and smiled at her, disbelief written all over his face.

“Uh-huh,” he said, walking past her again and back into the sitting room.

“Okay,” Hermione said, following behind him. “You want to do this the hard way; we can do it the hard way.”

“What are you going to do?” he asked her.

“I’m going to be your shadow,” she said. “You’re going to be so sick of me; you’ll be begging to sign those papers.”

“You can follow me from now until the cows come home, Hermione,” Harry said confidently. “I’m not signing those papers.”

“You will,” she said. “I can be quite stubborn.”

“So can I,” he said, stepping close to her. Their faces were inches apart.

“You are unbelievable!” she said, standing on her tiptoes to look him directly in the eyes.

“So are you,” he said. “Go see your parents.”

“Leave it, Harry.”

Sam whimpered at Hermione’s feet and she looked reluctantly away from Harry.

Harry couldn’t help but smile at the affection his dog was showing Hermione.

“He’s an adorable dog,” Hermione said, petting Sam. “I bet Crookshanks gives him a run for his money.”

She looked up expectantly at him, for news of where her beloved cat was. She felt stupid for not thinking of it before.

“Crookshanks died,” Harry said.

“What?” Hermione asked, speechless.

“You weren’t here,” he said coolly. He regretted his tone when he saw her reaction.

“How?” Hermione asked, her hand going over her mouth in shock.

“The vet said he’d been sick for quite some time,” Harry said. “They put him to sleep a few months back.”

“Oh my,” Hermione said, getting unsteadily to her feet. Taking pity on her, Harry led her over to the sofa.

“I’m sorry,” he said, genuinely, patting her on the back.

Hermione nodded.

“Why, um, why didn’t you tell me?” she asked, looking up at him, tears shining in her eyes.

“I didn’t know how to reach you,” he said. “You didn’t leave any forwarding address when you left. If I could have found you, I would have.”

Hermione sunk lower on the sofa. She brought her hand to her face again and as she did so, Harry caught sight of something on her hand.

He took her hand in his and looked at the gold band on her ring finger.

“Looks like I wasn’t the only one keeping secrets,” he said, feeling as if he’d just been kicked in the stomach.

Someone please tell me this isn’t happening.

They were both thinking the same thought at exactly the same time.

Author’s note: Writer’s Block is a funny, funny thing. Last chapter took forever to write and this one just flowed so easily for me…oh well, I won’t question it. I hope you guys enjoy this one. And don’t jump to conclusions about Hermione and her behavior. You will find out soon enough about how she handled the loss of the baby which will explain a lot. So, don’t be too hard on her. Please read and review! Oh, and I’m going on vacation for a couple of days starting on Tuesday so I’m going to try and get at least one more chapter up before I leave. Don’t worry, I’ll be back on Thursday! But, I am taking the whole week off of work (YAY, ME!)

Chapter Seven

White Flag

“I will go down with this ship
And I won't put my hands up and surrender
There will be no white flag above my door
I'm in love and always will be”

(“White Flag”, Dido)

For someone who claimed to not be “too into” weddings, Luna sure had Ron fooled. Ever since they’d made their announcement the night before to the entire Weasley family, Luna had seemingly become joined at the hip with Molly, who was excitedly making plans for the ceremony.

Since neither of them wanted a long engagement, it was decided that they would marry the last Saturday in June, which was less than a month away. Molly was busily asking Luna what she thought about having steak and chicken at the wedding reception, as well as whether she preferred a two-tier or a three-tier wedding cake.

“You know things would have been a lot easier if we’d just eloped,” Ron said, taking a seat at the kitchen table across from his fiancée and his mother, who looked up at him as if he’d just sprouted another head when he made his last comment.

“Elope?” Molly asked him. “Elope? You can’t be serious! Ron, if you had done that, I would never have spoken to you again.”

“I was only throwing the suggestion out there,” Ron said defensively. “Besides, I don’t have to do much, you just tell me the time and the place and I’ll show up, looking as handsome as ever.”

At that moment, Fred came walking into the kitchen, trailed by George. They’d both heard their brother’s last comment and seeing their opportunity to inflict torture on their younger brother took it and ran with it.

“You have a lot more to do than that, brother dear,” Fred said, sitting down beside his brother and grinning at him stupidly. “You have to choose the dress you are going to wear. I mean, it’s a summer wedding after all. You could go with a strapless dress or maybe one with a nice, subtle sleeve.”

Ron glowered at his brother.

“Yes,’ George chimed in. “But he’d have to sunbathe. Because, if he wore white with his pasty skin, it’d be a disaster.”

Molly and Luna stifled giggles.

”Ease off, Ron,” Ginny said, coming into the kitchen. “They’re only teasing.”

Draco followed suit, carrying D.J., whose face was covered with chocolate. Ginny handed her husband a dish towel to wipe D.J.’s face.

“What’s this all about?” Draco asked taking in the looks Ron was giving his brothers, who were cackling with laughter.

“Oh, you know the usual,” Ginny said, winking at Ron. “Fred and George are just having a go about what dress he should wear in the wedding.”

“Ginny!” Ron protested loudly.

“What?” Ginny said, teasingly. “It’s not like you haven’t worn one before!”

At Ginny’s last comment, the entire crowd dissolved into laughter, save for Ron.

“Let me get this straight,” Draco said, handing his son off to Ginny. “You wore a dress, Weasley?”

“I was a child,” Ron said angrily. “Mum! You see what you did! I had no control over it! She put me in it and I had no means to escape.”

“I guess we’ll know who’ll wear the trousers in your relationship, right Luna?” George said into his future sister-in-law’s ear.

“You know that I have had to put up with all of your taunts and jeers and comments about this for years now,” Ron said crossly. “This was such a long time ago. Haven’t I suffered enough? Can’t we move on to something else?”

The kitchen was quiet as the assorted Weasleys and Malfoy and Luna looked at each other and then collectively shook their heads and said, “No.”

Ron was about to say something else when there was a knock on the door. Looking for his chance to escape, Ron quickly got up from his seat to answer the door, mumbling all the way.

He swung open the door to find his best friend looking about as cross and surly as Ron.

“Harry?” Ron asked.

Harry stood outside the door not coming inside and not saying anything.

“What is it?”

Again, Harry was silent.

Ron closed the door behind him and came outside. He and Harry stood outside with the only sound coming from the crickets.

“Well,” Ron said finally. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on or do I have to beat it out of you?”

“Hermione,” Harry said quietly.

“What about her?” Ron asked, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at his best friend’s lovesick feelings toward his estranged wife. “I don’t know why you don’t just go to America and drag her back.”

“I don’t have to,” Harry said, with a slight laugh. “She’s here.”

Ron’s eyes got big at this news. “What?”

“She’s back,” Harry said. “Showed up at the cottage this afternoon. I was out walking Sam and when I came back, there she was.”

“Blimey!”

“You’re telling me,” Harry said, leaning back against the side of the house.

“What brought her back after all this time?” Ron asked.

“She wants me to sign the divorce papers,” Harry said. “She brought them to me herself.”

“Well, you were the one who said, you’d sign them if she brought them to you,” Ron said. “Did you?”

Harry shook his head.

“That’s not all, is it?” Ron asked.

Again, Harry shook his head.

“She’s engaged.”

“W-what?”

“Engaged,” Harry repeated. “To Andrew Keegan or something like that. He’s an attorney in New York. She met him nearly a year ago and apparently he asked her to marry him and she said yes.”

“I’m sorry,” Ron said, at a loss for anything else to say. “Are you sure?”

Harry nodded. “I saw the ring.”

“Well, what are you going to do?”

“What can I do, Ron? She’s made her choice. I should probably just sign the papers and have done with it. It’s what she wants.”

Ron stared at his friend in disbelief. “You’re giving up that easily?”

“I don’t have any choice.”

“Don’t give me that rubbish. You do have a choice. She’s back after all this time. Here’s your chance to get her back, Harry. You can’t just let her leave again, can you? Come on!”

“It’s too late,” Harry said, sitting down at the front steps. He put his head in his hands.

“Do you still love her?” Ron asked, stepping in front of his friend. Harry looked up at him in surprise.

“It doesn’t matter.”

Ron shook his head this time. “If you still love her, it does matter. If you still love her, it’s not too late.”

“So what am I supposed to do, Ron? She hates me! She wants nothing to do with me. She said she wasn’t leaving London until I signed those papers.”

“So don’t sign them,” Ron said matter-of-factly.

“Oh, that’s going to get her back,” Harry said sarcastically. “So you’re suggesting I piss her off to get her back? That’s really going to work out brilliantly. I don’t know why I never thought of it myself.”

“Because you’re not as smart as I am,” Ron said proudly. “That’s why I’m here to provide you with guidance. No, you idiot! What you’re supposed to do is refuse to sign those papers and she’s forced to stay here and you make her see why you two fell in love in the first place.”

Harry opened his mouth to respond that this didn’t seem like a very good idea when a dreamy voice interrupted his thoughts.

“I think Ron’s right,” Luna said. Both men turned to see her hovering by the door.

“I don’t mean to intrude,” she said. “But I couldn’t help overhearing about Hermione. Well, that’s not true. I could help overhearing, but I didn’t really want to. And I am glad that I did. Harry, Ron’s right.”

Luna walked over to him and put a hand on his shoulder. Ron beamed back at his girlfriend.

“This is going to be a challenge,” Luna said, taking a seat in between the two mean and placing her arms around them. “But you can do it, Harry. And Ron and I are going to help you any way we can.”

“You two are nuts,” Harry said, shaking his head, and genuinely laughing for the first time since he’d arrived at the Burrow.

“That’s why we make such a good couple,” Ron said, leaning in and kissing Luna chastely.

“So, geniuses,” Harry said, smiling at them. “What do I have to do?”

************************

While Harry was conspiring with Luna and Ron at the Burrow, Hermione was sitting in her childhood home, waiting for her mum to come back with tea.

Her parents had no idea she’d returned to London or why, for that matter, but they’d welcomed her back with open arms. It had been a little awkward standing on that door step seeing them for the first time in so long, but Hermione couldn’t help smiling as her dad enveloped her in a warm hug.

They’d been preparing dinner when she’d arrived and insisted that she stay to catch up. They’d grinned at each other when they’d led her into the dining room. There’d already been a third place setting at the table which Hermione had meant to ask them about, but she let it slide as she sat down and enjoyed her mother’s cooking for the first time in ages.

Hermione listened politely as they discussed with her various stories about patients at the practice. Her parents had returned the favor when Hermione had told them about teaching school in New York.

What they hadn’t talked about at all since she’d arrived was her marriage to Harry and the events that led up to its demise. Hermione had learned years ago to avoid talking with them about situations that would only lead to trouble.

Her mother came back into the sitting room carrying a tray of tea and biscuits. Her father followed suit carrying napkins. Hermione noticed her mother’s tray had four cups.

“Mum?” Hermione asked, looking at the tray as her mother sat it down on the coffee table. “Were you expecting someone else? You have four cups there? And when I came in earlier, you had three places set for dinner? Were you expecting company? I mean, you had no idea that I was even in the country.”

Karen and Robert exchanged a look that didn’t go unnoticed by Hermione.

“What is it?” Hermione asked.

“Well, we were sort of expecting someone,” Robert said finally. “We’ve been having dinner with the same guest each week for the past couple of years.”

“Oh,” Hermione said, wondering what the secrecy was. Why were here parents acting so strange about this? “Well, who is this mystery guest? The Prime Minister, himself?”

Robert chuckled. “No, he comes for tea on Saturday.”

The doorbell chimed at that moment and Karen got up from her seat on the sofa to answer it as Hermione looked awkwardly at her dad. A couple of minutes later, Karen returned to the sitting room, followed by Harry.

“Harry?” Hermione asked, getting to her feet. “What are you doing here?”

They hadn’t actually parted on the best of terms a few hours ago. After she’d explained to him about Andrew, he’d apparated straightaway to Merlin knows where and Hermione had sat in the now empty cottage, still reeling from the news about her beloved cat’s death and having to tell Harry about Andrew.

“Harry’s a regular around here,” Robert said, getting up from his armchair and shaking Harry’s hand warmly in greeting.

“What?” Hermione asked, staring at her parents and husband.

“Harry comes for dinner every week,” Karen said. “We were expecting him when you showed up.”

“I’m sorry I was so late,” Harry said, nonchalantly. He breezed past an incredulous Hermione and sat down on the couch. “I had to stop off at the Burrow.”

“How’s Molly?” Karen asked, pouring Harry a cup of tea and handing it to him.

“Busy planning Ron and Luna’s wedding,” Harry said, trying not to laugh at the stunned expression on Hermione’s face. He turned to look at her properly. “Ron and Luna just got engaged a couple of days ago.”

Hermione nodded and tried to smile as she sat back down on the sofa a few inches away from Harry.

What parallel universe have I stumbled into?

She watched as her father engaged Harry in conversation and Karen listened politely and laughed at Harry’s stupid jokes.

My parents couldn’t stand Harry. Well, that wasn’t entirely true, but they didn’t like us getting married so young and they never let me forget that, so what is this? Why do I feel so out of my place in my own home with my parents?

“These are really great biscuits, Dr. Granger,” Harry said.

To Hermione’s surprise, Karen beamed at Harry and patted him on the shoulder as she walked back into the kitchen. She called to Robert to help her with something.

Now that Harry and Hermione were alone, Harry looked at her.

“What’s wrong?”

She crinkled her nose at him. “What’s wrong? What’s wrong? What’s wrong?”

“Well, at least I know you heard the question,” he said cheekily, helping himself to another biscuit.

Hermione slapped his hand.

“Hey!”

“What gives with the love-fest between you and my parents?”

“Nothing,” Harry said, staring at her bemusedly. “We became quite close these last couple of years. They invited me over to dinner and I agreed. Your dad and I sometimes play a round of golf at his club. Most of the time, I let him win. He won’t let me use magic.”

Hermione was about to respond when Robert popped his head back into the room and sheepishly said that they’d run out of milk.

“Would you be a good lad and run down to the corner shop and pick us up some?” Robert asked.

“Sure,” Harry said, getting to his feet.

“Why don’t you go with?” Robert asked his daughter. “It’s a great night for a stroll.”

Hermione blanched.

“Yeah,” Harry said, offering his hand to help her up from the sofa. “Come with?”

Seeing she had no other choice, Hermione took his hand and got to her feet.

A few moments later they walked in silence toward the corner shop.

“So,” Hermione said. “Ron and Luna?”

“Yeah,” Harry said with a laugh. “She’s finally roped him into submission.”

“When are they getting married?”

“Last Saturday in June,” Harry said. “They don’t want a long engagement. It’s going to be held in the backyard of the Burrow. That place has turned into wedding planning central. Luna wants to see you. She wants to take you to lunch tomorrow. She wouldn’t make me leave without promising that you’d owl her.”

“Sure,” Hermione said. They walked a few more paces before Hermione stopped abruptly.

“This is so surreal,” Hermione said.

“What is?’

Harry walked over to her and stared intently into her brown eyes.

“Just everything,” she said, shaking her head. “I mean, when I left Ron and Luna were reveling in their non-marriage status and you and I were barely on speaking terms with my folks. Now, I get back and everything seems to be so different. I mean, you’re the son my parents never had, apparently. And Ron’s marrying Luna.”

“Well,” Harry said, trying to choose his words carefully. Although, he still loved his wife, he was still angry at her leaving. Mainly, at how she’d left the way she had. “That’s what happens in life. Things change. People move on.”

Hermione nodded. “I guess.”

“Things don’t stay the same forever,” Harry said pointedly at her. “You and I both know that.”

“I know that,” she said defensively. “Of course, I know that.”

They reached the shop and walked inside, heading toward the dairy section.

“So, where are you staying while you’re here?” he asked her, as she picked up a carton of milk. “With your parents?”

She shook her head.

“I don’t think so,” she said. “I’ve rented a room at The Leaky Cauldron.”

Harry took the carton of milk from her as they made their way toward the registers.

“You’re not staying there,” he said, pulling his wallet from his trousers pocket.

“This is the twenty-first century, Neanderthal Man,” Hermione said with a smile. “I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can,” he said, handing the cashier money. “But, I thought you said you were going to be my shadow. You said you weren’t going to leave me alone until I sign those papers.”

Hermione nodded. “Yeah, so.”

“So,” Harry said condescendingly. “You can’t very well do that from all the way over in some hotel room, can you?”

“No,” Hermione said, stifling a smile. “But, I can’t very well stay with you, can I?”

“Why not?” Harry asked. “Unless you’re afraid you’ll barge into my bedroom in the middle of the night and jump my bones. I know it’ll be hard to contain yourself, but we are an estranged couple, Hermione. You should be strong.”

Hermione laughed. “I’ll try to control myself. You know that’s another thing that has changed. Your ego has gotten massive since I’ve been gone.”

“You have no idea,” Harry said teasingly to her as they walked out of the shop.

“So, I guess this means I’m staying with you, then?” Hermione asked.

“I guess so,” Harry said, walking back toward the Granger house.

Step One, Accomplished.

Author’s note: Well, I said I’d have one more chapter up before I left on vacation! Here it is. I hope you like it. The next chapter will be little D.J. Malfoy’s birthday party and Hermione will see Ginny for the first time in a long time. Should be interesting, huh? And how will Hermione react to Harry having a date? These questions will be answered in the next chapter of Sweet Home London…lol please read and review!

Chapter Eight

Why Don’t You & I?

“So I'll say 'why don't you and I get together and take on the world
and be together forever
Heads we will and tails we'll try again'
So I say 'why don't you and I hold each other and fly to the moon
and straight on to heaven
Cause without you they're never going to let me in'

When's this fever going to break?
I think I've handled more than any man can take
I'm like a love-sick puppy chasing you around
ooo and it's alright
Bouncing round from cloud to cloud
I got the feeling like I'm never going to come down
If said I didn't like it then you know I'd lied”

(“Why Don’t You & I?” by Santana)

After a particularly grueling day in court, Andrew Keegan was looking forward to getting some much needed sleep. This case was talking a whole lot out of him and it was bound to get worse before it got better. He stopped off at the office to pick up some files and was nearly to the elevators when his secretary called him back.

“It’s your father,” she said apologetically. “I told you were almost out the door, but he insisted that I come and get you.”

Andrew rolled his eyes and quickly walked back to his office. He sat down in his chair and picked up the telephone.

“Dad?”

“Andrew,” Joe Keegan said. “I’m glad I caught you.”

Andrew sighed. “What’s up, Dad?”

“Well, your mother wanted to see if you and Hermione could join us for dinner on Sunday.”

“Dad,” Andrew said. “I thought I told you that Hermione’s in London visiting her family.”

“Oh,” Joe said. “Well, that’s nice, then. What did you say her parents did?”

“They’re dentists, Dad,” Andrew said impatiently. He wondered why his dad was suddenly so interested in Hermione’s family history.

“Andrew,” Joe said, a few seconds later. “What do you really know about this girl anyway?”

“I know that I love her very much,” Andrew retorted. “And that should be good enough for you, because it’s sure the hell good enough for me. Don’t do this, Dad.”

“Do what?”

“If you’re thinking of looking into her past to find some skeletons in your closet, you can just forget it, okay? You won’t find anything there. She’s as straight arrow as they come.”

“Andrew, we are a very high profile family,” Joe said slowly. Andrew was trying hard to keep his emotions in check. It was hard to do when his father insisted on treating him like a three-year old child. “We’re not the average family. I have high hopes for you and your future. Getting mixed up with some girl that you don’t really know is only going to derail what you’ve worked so hard for.”

Andrew fumed. “Dad, you have nothing to worry about with Hermione, okay? She makes me happy. She’s smart, and sweet and funny. She’s a school teacher for heaven’s sake! It’s not as if I’m dating a prostitute.”

Joe didn’t respond.

“Just leave it be,” Andrew said. “For me. Just let it go.”

“Alright, Andrew,” Joe said. “I trust that you know what you’re doing.”

“Thank you,” Andrew replied. “I’ll see you this weekend, then?”

After a few more pleasantries were exchanged, Andrew hung up the phone and hoped for once his father would let this go.

******

Harry insisted on carrying Hermione’s luggage back to the cottage. She’d said he needn’t, but he’d insisted. Now, as they walked back into the cottage to the welcome delight of Sam, Hermione couldn’t help but wonder what she’d been thinking when she’d agreed to stay with him.

“I’m proud of you, you know?” Harry said, as he sat down beside her on the sofa.

“Proud of me?” she asked, raising her eyebrows. “For what?”

“Visiting your parents,” he said. “They really missed you, Hermione. I know it wasn’t easy to see them, but you really handled it well.”

Despite herself, Hermione smiled back at him. “Well, I handled that better than I did seeing you walk in to the house. You could have picked my jaw off the floor.”

“Why is it so strange to you that I’m friends with your parents?” he asked her, laughing as Sam jumped up on the couch and perched his head on Hermione’s leg. Hermione smiled down at the dog and petted him lovingly.

“Um, maybe because they were so against us getting married,” she said sarcastically. “Come on, Harry. They never let us forget that they were against it.”

“Well, they came around,” Harry said. “You know they were just as excited as we were when the---“ his voice trailed off.

Hermione’s smile faded as she caught on to what he was about to say.

An uncomfortable silence followed as the two of them were unsure of what to say.

”So, what’s this Andrew like?” Harry asked finally.

“Well, there’s not much to tell,” Hermione said uncomfortably. “He’s a nice guy.”

“Nice can be boring,” Harry said, looking away from her.

Hermione laughed. “Nice can be boring? Well, there are certain people who would call you nice and I would hardly call you boring, Harry.”

“Yeah, well there’s nice and interesting and then there’s nice and boring,” Harry said. “Which category does your Andrew Keegan fall in?”

“Andrew is nice, period, okay?” Hermione asked, shifting in her seat. Sam looked up at her in surprise, but lay his head back down in her lap just the same.

“I take it he’s a Muggle?” Harry asked.

“Yes,” she said with a laugh. “He’s about as Muggle as they come.”

“And does he know who he’s marrying?” Harry asked probingly. “Or better yet what he’s marrying?”

”A woman with a stubborn soon to be ex-husband, you mean?”

“Well, that,” Harry said, looking at her. “But, does he know everything else? Who you really are? Where you came from? Does he know about me? Does he know why you’re really here?”

“Once an auror, always an auror,” Hermione snapped at him. “Why do you have so many questions?”

“Well, if I’m giving my wife away, I want to know what sort of character she’s getting herself involved with.”

Hermione sighed. “Okay, to answer your questions. No, he doesn’t know I’m a witch. No, he doesn’t know I was married. He doesn’t know why I’m really here, satisfied?”

Harry stared at her for a moment and then shook his head. “You’re marrying this guy and you’ve not told him the truth?”

“Well, there hasn’t been a right time to tell him the truth,” Hermione said quietly. “And I plan on doing it.”

“When?”

“When I think its best,” Hermione said crossly.

“Uh-huh,” Harry said, not at all sounding convinced.

Hermione wasn’t about to tell him that she’d struggled with these same questions herself. She knew it wasn’t right to keep secrets from someone she cared about.

“I just left that life behind, Harry,” Hermione said looking away from him. “That’s not who I am, anymore.”

He stared at her and his gaze was so penetrating, Hermione had to look away.

“What?” she asked.

“Who are you?” he asked her, his green eyes focused on her, willing her to look at him. “I feel sorry for Andrew because he’s missing out.”

Hermione looked up at him them, a confused expression on her face.

“He doesn’t know you, Hermione,” Harry continued. “He doesn’t know the life you led. He doesn’t know about your childhood. He doesn’t know how smart and amazingly brilliant you really are. He doesn’t know about the prejudices you faced while we were at Hogwarts just because you weren’t ‘pure-blooded’. He doesn’t know how amazingly strong you were to withstand the pressure you were under. He didn’t see how you stood up to your parents and everyone else when they told you to stay away from that Harry Potter kid. He doesn’t know how much your love and courage and friendship meant to me. He doesn’t know how it feels when someone as amazing as you walks out of his life. He doesn’t know how special you really are, Hermione.”

A tear fell down Hermione’s cheek as she listened to Harry. She didn’t dare move.

Harry’s eyes never left hers as he leaned closer to her. Hermione felt her breath catch in her throat as their faces were inches apart.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

Harry pulled back abruptly at the sound of a ringing coming from Hermione’s purse. She pushed back a strand of her hair as she pulled her mobile telephone from her bag.

“Hello?” she said hoarsely into the phone.

“Andrew!” she exclaimed, getting to her feet. “What are you doing calling this late? I know the time difference, but still.”

Harry sighed and got up from the couch and walked into the kitchen. He didn’t know this Andrew at all and couldn’t help thinking that the bloke had crummy timing.

“Come on, Sam,” he called to the dog and went over to the cupboard to pull out a tin of dog food. He opened the can quickly and poured it into Sam’s dog dish. He tried not to conspicuously listen to Hermione’s end of the conversation as he watched Sam tuck into his food.

“Well, I’m going to be a little bit longer than expected,” he heard her say. “My friend Ron’s getting married in a few weeks and I’d really like to be here for it.”

Harry suppressed a smile at this news.

“No, well term ended last week so I don’t think it’ll be a problem,” he heard her say. “How’s your case?”

Harry walked back into the sitting room and saw that Hermione was now sitting back down on the couch.

“Well, get some sleep, then,” she said a few minutes later. “Okay, I love you, too.”

She hung up the phone and looked sheepishly at Harry.

“Sorry about that,” she said.

“No need to apologize,” he said.

“So, where am I sleeping?” she asked.

“Why don’t you take the bedroom?” he asked her. “I’ll just crash here on the sofa.”

“I can’t do that,” Hermione said quickly. “This is your cottage now, not mine. You should sleep in the bedroom. I can crash here on the sofa.”

“Nonsense,” Harry said, walking over to the closet and pulling out a blanket and a pillow and setting them down on the sofa. “If it’s my house and you’re my guest, I say you get the bedroom and I being the ever genial host will take the sofa.”

“Okay,” Hermione said, with a slight smile. “If you’re sure.”

“Positive,” Harry said. “I told Luna and Ron we’d meet them tomorrow afternoon for lunch.”

“Okay,” Hermione said walking over to the door and pulling her suitcase behind her as she made her way to the bedroom. She turned back to see Harry laying the blanket out on the sofa and wanted to say something to him about what he’d said earlier and how they’d almost kissed, but she didn’t think that was a subject she should broach now. “I guess I’ll be going to bed now.”

“Me, too,” Harry said, fluffing the pillow before putting it down on the sofa. Sam came barreling into the sitting room just then and jumped happily onto the sofa to Harry’s chagrin.

“Sam!” Harry said. “That’s not your bed!”

Hermione laughed. “I think he’d disagree with you, Harry.”

Harry gave her a mock scowl. “Take his side, why don’t you?”

“You’re on your own with this one,” she said, laughing as Harry tried to nudge Sam from the sofa. Sam was not moving one muscle and seemed to be relishing in Harry’s impatience.

“This dog is a test of my patience,” Harry said, holding his hands up in surrender. “Ron swears up and down that Crookshanks spirit was reincarnated into Sam here. I’m inclined to agree.”

Hermione laughed. “Well, good night, Harry. Good night, Sam.”

Harry watched as she pulled her suitcase into the bedroom and closed the door behind her.

“Welcome home, Hermione.”

*********************

Ron and Luna arrived at The Three Broomsticks at just after noon. Ron had a practice later with the team, and Luna was on assignment for The Quibbler, which meant she was going to do some wedding shopping after lunch.

They found a quiet table near the back and placed their orders with Rosmerta who congratulated them on their engagement. When they were alone, Luna looked at Ron and said, “Now, don’t take this the wrong way, but don’t say anything stupid when they get here.”

“How can I not take that the wrong way?” Ron asked, taken aback. “Besides, I do have some sense of decorum.”

“You?” Luna asked.

“Me!”

“Just don’t go shooting off at the mouth,” Luna said. “I know how you like to get into little rows with Hermione and all, but just keep cool. The last thing she and Harry need is for you to have a major blowout with her, okay?”

“Alright,” Ron said. “But, you know those little rows that Hermione and I have? They’re part of who we are. If we didn’t have those, we wouldn’t have much of anything. It’s part of our charm.”

“Uh-huh,” Luna said, looking at her menu. She looked up to say something to him, but stopped when she saw Harry and Hermione approaching their table.

“Hi!” Luna exclaimed, getting to her feet to give Hermione a hug.

“Let someone else have a hug, too, Luna!” Ron exclaimed, getting to his feet and giving Hermione a big bear hug.

“Where the hell have you been?” he asked when he let go of Hermione. At this, Luna smacked him over the head with her menu.

“Ow!” Ron said, rubbing his head.

“See, Hermione,” Harry said, taking a seat beside Ron. “I told you, they’re already acting like an old married couple as it is.”

Lunch went well. They trio plus Luna shared details of their lives---career, family, details about old school friends. When time came for Harry to talk about his career, he was tightlipped to Hermione’s surprise.

“Working on something top secret, then?” she asked conspiratorially.

“No,” he said, taking a bite of his sandwich.

“Well, then why aren’t you divulging any details of your dangerous lifestyle,” Hermione teased.

“Maybe because he’s left all that behind,” Ron chimed in.

“What?” Hermione asked, taken aback by this news. Harry loved being an auror. She never in a million years would have thought he’d walk away from that.

“I quit,” Harry said simply.

“But why?” Hermione asked. “You never mentioned anything to me.”

“Well, you didn’t ask,” Harry responded. “And it’s not as if I had your telephone number in the States to tell you.”

Hermione frowned. “So, what are you going to do now?”

“Well, that’s the twenty-thousand galleon question,” Luna said. “Harry’s been sort of secretive about that.”

Hermione looked at Harry and touched his shoulder. “What are you going to do?”

“I have something in the works,” he said evasively.

He needed to get the topic of conversation away from this. He wasn’t ready to share his plans with anyone, least of all Hermione, at the moment. Looking for help, he kicked Luna under the table. She jumped, startled and caught Harry’s eye and nodded.

“Hey, Hermione?” Luna asked. “I was wondering if you could do me a favor since you’re going to be staying for the wedding and all. I was hoping you’d do me the honor of serving as my maid of honor.”

Harry breathed a sigh of relief and mouthed “Thank you!” to Luna.

“Me?” Hermione asked, staring at her friend.

Luna nodded. “You can’t very well be Ron’s best man and I don’t really have a best girl friend, so I was hoping you’d save me the embarrassment and stand up with me.”

Hermione smiled warmly at her. “I’d be honored.”

“Fan-bloody-tastic,” Luna said.

“Here, here!” Ron chimed in. “The best man, the groom, the bride and the maid of honor.”

“I prefer the term better man,” Harry said as Ron scowled and the two girls laughed.

“For once he’s going to be second banana to his sidekick and he’s worried about terms,” Ron said. “If it makes you feel any better we can call you ‘The Best Man Who Lived’.”

This time it was Harry who scowled and he threw a roll at Ron.

“Hey!” Ron said in protest. “You can call me any name you want. You can insult my wife to be and my best female friend, but if you waste good food, I’ll be forced to flatten you.”

Luna leaned in and whispered to Hermione, “I’ve got my hands full with this one, don’t I?”

“Yes, you do,” Hermione whispered back. “But, he needs someone like you. You can handle him.”

“I hope so,” Luna said with a laugh. She got to her feet and motioned for Hermione to do the same.

“Where are you going?” Ron asked in surprise.

“I’m taking my maid of honor dress shopping,” Luna said breezily. “That is if she doesn’t have anything planned?”

Hermione shook her head. “I’m free all afternoon.”

“Great,” Luna said, grabbing her purse. “Well, let’s get a move on, then.”

Luna walked over to Ron and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

“We’ll meet up with you later for D.J.’s birthday party, right?” Luna asked. “You did pick your nephew up a present, didn’t you?”

Ron looked sheepishly at his fiancée. “Of course!”

“Uh-huh,” Luna said. “Stop by the Toy Menagerie on your way.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Ron said as he watched Luna and Hermione head out of the pub.

“I completely forgot about D.J.’s party,” Harry said. “I’m supposed to meet up with Lisa!”

“Oh,” Ron said. “Well, use it to your advantage. Make your wife jealous!”

“I can’t do that, Ron,” Harry said, shaking his head. “That wouldn’t be fair to Lisa.”

“Well, what are you going to do then?”

“I have no bloody idea!” Harry responded.

*****

Author’s note: Well, this is me back from my short vacation and armed with a new chapter. I hope you like it. You will get so see what I affectionately call “drunk Hermione” in this scene. Please read and review!

Chapter Nine

Find My Way Back

“I'm finding my way back to you
And everything I used to be
And waiting is all that I can do
Until you find your way back to me”

(“Find My Way Back”, Michelle Branch)

Hermione and Luna spent the majority of the afternoon shopping in Muggle London for a maid of honor dress for Hermione. They’d enjoyed shopping and catching up with each other. Luna couldn’t help but noticing how little Hermione wanted to talk about her new life in New York. It seemed like Hermione wasn’t up for sharing too much about what had happened with her as she was to finding out what Luna had been up to these past two years.

Luna didn’t want to pry. She knew not to push her luck. Besides, she was having too good a time with her friend to pursue the issue any further.

At around 6 p.m. that evening, Hermione and Luna made their way to Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes, where the fifth birthday party for D.J. Malfoy would be taking place. Ginny had been quite hesitant about letting her prankster brothers plan the party, but they’d insisted that they would keep everything completely legitimate. They told her that it would be an appropriate party for a five-year old. Ginny had made them promise that they wouldn’t do anything like turning her son into a toad. She’d reminded them of her specialty bat-bogey hexes, which had made them visibly cringe.

This whole party had Luna on edge as well. She knew that the events of this evening would lead to some awkward moments, to say the least. While Hermione and Ginny had at one time been as close as sisters, times had changed. With Ginny’s deception, that friendship had been irrevocably damaged. In the years that passed, Hermione and Ginny had kept their distance. This had been made a little easier as Hermione had spent the past two years in America. Luna couldn’t help but wonder what would happen at the party when the two former friends came face to face after all this time.

Another troubling issue was the fact that Lisa Turpin would be Harry’s date for the evening. Luna knew that Hermione didn’t know anything about this and she couldn’t help wondering what Harry’s thought process was at not at least warning Hermione about this turn of events. She wondered if she should say something, but she figured it wasn’t her place. Besides, she was putting faith in the fact that Harry must know what he was doing.

For once let common sense reign supreme with my husband-to-be and his best mate. That’s all I’m asking for.

*********

Harry and Ron spent the afternoon at Ron’s Quidditch practice. Harry watched from the stands as the team practiced and was even persuaded to take part in a scrimmage. He’d not played a game of Quidditch in quite some and he’d loved being back up in the air. Concentrating on the game at hand had taken his mind off the bigger picture.

But, as they’d all descended the air and made their way to the locker rooms to change, Harry couldn’t help feeling that sense of apprehension that had plagued him all afternoon. He was about to go on a date---his first date in months---to a party where his estranged wife would be present. He couldn’t help thinking that this was just an invitation for disaster.

He’d quickly showered and changed and was waiting for Ron to finish up as he sat just outside the locker rooms.

“You ready to go, mate?”

Harry looked up to see Ron emerging from the locker rooms, his hair still a little damp from the shower.

“Not really,” Harry said morosely.

“You’re still not on about the date, are you?”

“No, Ron,” Harry said sarcastically. “I’m upset that the Chudley Cannons have a losing record.”

“Sorry,” Ron said sheepishly. “Stupid question.”

“We nearly kissed last night,” Harry said and Ron smiled.

“You did? Well, that’s great, isn’t it?” Ron asked.

“No,” Harry said, shaking his head. “We were about to when her mobile went off and it was that Andrew. He must have ESP or something like that.”

“Well, once she got off the phone did you talk about it?”

“No,” he said. “We acted like it hadn’t happened. It’s like one step forward and two steps back, Ron. And I’m afraid that tonight when I’m with Lisa, she’s—“

“Don’t worry about it,” Ron said, taking a seat beside his friend. “Look. She thinks you’ve just been pining away for her this whole time, right? Well, she’s going to see tonight that if she doesn’t act quickly, there’s someone else to take her place.”

“I haven’t been pining away for her,” Harry said defensively.

Ron raised his eyebrows at his friend.

“Okay,” Harry said. “I may have pined a little bit for her.”

“Yeah, okay,” Ron said sardonically. “Listen, it’ll be fine. Just act as if it’s any other date. Trust me. What could possibly go wrong?”

***********

Hermione and Luna arrived at the joke shop at 6:30 p.m. There were a handful of guests already there, but Ginny and Draco and the guest-of-honor had yet to arrive. Luna gave Hermione a reassuring smile as they walked inside.

“Well, as I live and breathe!” Molly Weasley’s voice boomed as they walked in. The next thing Hermione knew she was being engulfed in a massive hug, the likes of which she’d not received in a long time. “Hermione!”

“It’s good to see you, Mrs. Weasley,” Hermione said, with a laugh.

“Sweetheart,” Mrs. Weasley said, letting go of Hermione and giving her a broad smile. “You’re not a child anymore. I think it’d be okay if you called me Molly now.”

“I don’t know if I can,” Hermione said with a laugh. “I’m kind of used to calling you Mrs. Weasley.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter,” Molly said, as she gave her son’s fiancée a welcoming hug as well. “The important thing is that you’re home where you belong.”

Hermione looked a little uncomfortable at this and hoping to assuage her friend’s fears, Luna called out for Fred and George.

They emerged from the backroom wearing party hats and carrying sparklers.

“Fred! George! Put those out this instant! Those are not appropriate for a five-year old’s birthday party! He could grab hold of one of those and get a nasty burn!”

Fred grimaced at his mother. “So, I guess we should cancel the dancing girls, then?”

Molly scowled at them.

“We’re only kidding!” George chimed in. “Only kidding! Besides, it was only one dancing girl.”

“I see you two haven’t changed a bit,” Hermione said with a giggle. Fred and George beamed at Hermione and quickly extinguished the sparklers and enveloped her in a bear hug.

“Oxygen becoming an issue, guys,” Hermione said and Fred and George promptly let her go.

“Mum must have brought in the big guns to keep us in line, then,” George said.

Molly nodded. “That’s right. I need all the help I can get with you lot.”

“I promise to go easy on you,” Hermione teased. “Only small curses and hexes, provided you don’t get too out of hand.”

“We’ve never gotten too out of hand,” Fred protested. “Have we?”

“You’ve skirted it a few times,” Luna said.

“Speaking of skirts, where’s that fiancé of yours?” George said cheekily.

“He and Harry should be arriving any time now,” Luna said. “I hope that he remembered to pick up a present for D.J.”

“Hermione?” Molly asked. “Why don’t you and Luna help me bring out some of the refreshments?”

“As long as I don’t have to cook anything,” Hermione said warningly. “You do remember how I nearly burned down your kitchen?”

“That I do,” Molly said with a wink. “But, you’re in luck. It’s just birthday cake!”

As Luna and Molly followed Hermione into the kitchen, Luna asked Hermione, “I never knew you nearly burned down the kitchen!”

“It’s not one of my more shining moments,” Hermione said with a laugh. She couldn’t help feeling that maybe this evening wouldn’t be so bad.

***

As the three women were busy loading up the cake and plates on trays, Ginny came into the kitchen.

“Mum!” she exclaimed. “The place looks wonderful!”

Molly turned around and smiled at her only daughter. “Believe it or not, your brothers did most of it! I just wish Bill and Charlie would have been able to come!”

“Well, they did send presents,” Ginny said, hugging her mother.

Hermione turned around and couldn’t help staring at Ginny. Ginny’s hair was longer than Hermione remembered and she’d pulled it back with a headband. She wore a pair of blue jeans and a short-sleeved black sweater.

“Hi, Hermione,” Ginny said a little uncertainly. She gave her a welcoming smile.

“Hello,” Hermione said, her voice just barely above a whisper.

“I’m really glad you could make it,” Ginny said sincerely. “We heard you were back in town.”

Hermione nodded. “Thank you for the invitation.”

“Of course,” Ginny said.

“Well,” Molly said, looking at Luna. “How about you and I go see that grandson of mine?”

Luna nodded.

“Are you going to be okay, Hermione?” Luna asked, before she reached the door.

“Yes, of course,” Hermione replied. “You go on ahead.”

There was an awkward silence as Hermione and Ginny just stood there, both looking down at the floor, not daring to meet the others’ eyes.

“So,” Ginny said uncomfortably.

“So,” Hermione repeated. “It’s a little strange, isn’t it? We used to talk about everything under the sun and now be both don’t know what to say to each other.”

Ginny laughed. “We used to talk about some crazy things, didn’t we?”

Hermione smiled wistfully. “We sure did. If I can recall, I was going to be the first Muggle-born Minister of Magic and you were going to design beautiful dress robes that would put Madame Malkin’s to shame.”

“Life didn’t quite work out the way we planned, did it?” Ginny asked.

Hermione shook her head.

“We had better get outside,” Hermione after another few moments of silence.

Ginny nodded.

As they both walked out of the backroom, Hermione caught sight of the bright-eyed five-year old boy who was laughing as Fred and George pretended to have a fist fight. D.J. laughed in delight as Fred fell to the ground, grimacing in mock pain.

Ginny and Hermione stared at the scene before them.

“He’s really a great little boy, isn’t he?” Hermione asked, feeling tears welling up in her eyes. Looking at this adorable little boy reminded her of what she’d been trying so hard to put behind her----what could have been.

Ginny nodded as she looked at her son adoringly. “He’s a handful at times, but he’s really changed my life. For the better.”

Hermione smiled. “You’ve grown up a lot, Ginny.”

“I hope so,” Ginny said. “I wanted to become the type of person my son could be proud of.”

“I think you have,” Hermione said. “From all that I’ve heard, I think you’re a great mother, Ginny.”

”Thanks,” Ginny said, tears welling up in her own eyes. She didn’t think she could ever express to Hermione how much those words meant to her.

“Mummy!” D.J. called to his mother.

“Who’s a big boy?” Ginny said, walking quickly over to her son and picking him up and spinning him around as he squealed in delight.

“Everything okay?” Luna asked, coming over to Hermione.

Hermione nodded. “Yeah, it’s okay. I’m going to need some air, though. I’ll be right back.”

“You want me to come with?”

Hermione shook her head. “No, stay here. I’ll be okay. I’ll just be a few minutes.”

****

Harry and Ron arrived a few minutes later. Ron teased Luna by pretending that he hadn’t brought a gift for his nephew and then laughed like a hyena when he produced with a flick of his wand, a beautifully wrapped birthday present.

Luna’s response to this was to stomp on his foot hard and walk away----which the entire Weasley family delighted in, especially D.J. who imitated Luna’s gesture by walking over to his Uncle Ron and proceeding to jump up and down on Ron’s foot.

Harry laughed as Ron picked up his nephew and tickled him senseless. As he looked around the joke shop, his eyes searched for Hermione, hoping to find her before Lisa arrived.

“Where’s Hermione?” he asked Luna, who was standing at the table talking with Draco.

“She said she needed some air,” Luna said, a concerned expression on her face. “I think seeing Ginny was kind of hard on her.”

“Do you know where she went?” Harry asked.

“She might have gone up on the roof, Potter,” Malfoy contributed. “Didn’t mean to overhear your conversation or anything, but that’d be my guess.”

Harry nodded and quickly went in the backroom and out the door and quickly ascended the staircase to the roof. Sure enough, there she was. Her back was to him and she was looking down at the village. He stared at her for a moment before quickly bridging the distance between them. She was lost in her thoughts as she didn’t hear him approach. He hesitantly put an arm to her shoulder and she jumped, startled.

“Hey,” he whispered.

“Hey,” she said.

“Is everything okay?” he asked her, his hand still on her shoulder.

She was about to give him the stock answer that everything was fine, but she had never been able to lie to him and she didn’t plan on starting now.

So, she shook her head.

“Come here,” he said, opening his arms up to her and she went into them willingly. The tears she’d been holding off came out quickly and Harry’s own heart broke as he held her.

“It’s okay,” he said. “Let it out.”

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she said, resting her head against his chest.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, stroking her back reassuringly.

“I know,” she said, between sobs. “It’s just---I thought I could handle it. But, it’s just been a bit too much.”

“I know,” he said. “I see the three of them together and I think that it could have been---it should have been us like that, too.”

“I try not to think about it,” she said quietly. “What could have been, you know? But, I do. I think about it all the time.”

“Me, too,” he said.

They stood there, lost in each other’s arms for what seemed like an eternity. The grief that had broken them apart was now slowly bringing them together.

A sound down below in the streets caused them both to abruptly pull away from each other. Hermione wiped a tear away from her cheek.

She looked at Harry’s shirt that was now wet from her tears. She apologized and offered to perform a drying spell, but he shrugged her off.

“It’s okay,” he said, smiling reassuringly at her. “It’s just tears. It’s okay, really.”

She smiled back. He offered her his hand. “So, you ready to face them all again?”

She took his hand willingly and he gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Yeah, I think so.”

********

Hermione and Harry walked back into the joke shop, hand in hand. Hermione felt much better walking back into the shop then she did walking out of it a few minutes before.

As soon as they walked back in, Luna came over to them carrying two paper cups of punch.

“Here you go,” Luna said.

They thanked Luna and the three of them looked on in amusement as Ron had somehow become the piñata for the children. He would fall over in dramatic fashion to the delight of the children and Fred and George would call out for more as the children kept pinching, poking and tapping Ron at will.

“I better go save him,” Luna said, handing her own cup over to Hermione. “If I’m not back in three minutes, send for reinforcements.”

Harry and Hermione shared a laugh and enjoyed their own chit chat during the party when a tapping on Harry’s shoulder interrupted their conversation. Harry turned and his heart plummeted as he saw Lisa Turpin, smiling broadly at him.

“Sorry I’m so late,” she said apologetically. “I had a couple of press releases to get off my desk before they’d let me leave.”

“Right,” Harry said awkwardly. “Hi, Lisa.”

She smiled warmly back at him. Harry didn’t want to turn around to see the look on Hermione’s face. He’d completely forgotten about Lisa after what had happened with Hermione on the roof.

“Hermione Granger?” Lisa asked looking over Harry’s shoulder. “Is that you? I haven’t seen you since Hogwarts!”

Hermione stared at her.

“Well, this is a little awkward, isn’t it?” Lisa asked, when no one else spoke. “You being the ex-wife and this being our first date.”

Lisa linked arms with Harry and smiled possessively at Hermione.

“Your, um, first date,” Hermione stammered. “You didn’t mention anything about a date.”

Harry couldn’t believe how awful this was. He’d rather be back in one of Snape’s Double Potions lessons than having to endure this.

Where is that black hole to swallow me whole when I really need it?

An awkward, uncomfortable silence followed as Hermione stared at Harry and Lisa. An oblivious Lisa just grinned back adoringly at Harry.

“Well,” Hermione said finally. “I won’t keep you, then. It was nice to see you again, Lisa. I hope that the two of you enjoy your date.”

With that, she quickly turned on her heel and walked away. Harry wanted to follow her, but Lisa’s grip on his arm tightened and she began to talk at nearly a mile a minute.

**********

As the party was drawing to a close, Harry realized that he hadn’t seen Hermione in quite some time. He was wondering if she’d apparated back to the cottage. Lisa was in the bathroom freshening up and he had made up his mind to tell her that he’d had a nice time, but was really tired and wanted to call it a night.

He’d made it a few feet when Neville Longbottom walked into the joke shop. His cheeks were red and he was out of breath.

“Neville?”

Neville held up his hand to indicate to Harry that he needed to catch his breath.

“What is it?”

Neville stood straight and said breathlessly. “Hermione…Hogshead…Pissed.”

“What?” Harry asked.

“She’s been down there for the past two hours,” Neville said. “The barkeeper said she’s drunk nearly her weight in firewhiskey, Harry.”

Harry was speechless. He’d never seen Hermione drunk in his entire life. In fact, he’d never seen her drink more than a half a glass of champagne.

“Thanks, Neville,” he said, patting his friend on the back. “Could you do me a favor? You know Lisa Turpin, right?” Neville nodded. “Could you tell her that I had to go unexpectedly, please?”

“Sure,” Neville responded.

Harry didn’t say anything else as he quickly bolted out of the joke shop and down the street toward The Hog’s Head.

He opened the door to find that the place hadn’t changed since the last time he’d been there. The dingy, dank smell was quite pungent and he could hardly see anything in the room from the smoke.

He looked around the room for Hermione and found her sitting at the end of the bar, nursing another glass of firewhiskey. Her eyes were bloodshot and she was slumped over in her stool.

“Hermione?” he asked her.

“Harry!” she slurred excitedly. “Barkeeper! This is my hubband—Parry Hotter.”

She laughed hysterically at her mistake. “No, that’s not right! It’s Harry! You know, Harry!”

Harry pushed her glass away from her.

“Hermione,” he said, sitting down beside her. “How many of these have you had?”

She looked at him, thinking hard. “I can’t remember! I lost count.”

“How could you let her drink like this?” Harry asked the barkeeper angrily.

“Oi!” the bartender retorted. “It’s not my job to be the nursemaid, okay? I just serve the stuff.”

“You shouldn’t let her get so shit-faced, she can’t even see straight!” Harry said angrily. “She’s not a drinker!”

“You could have fooled me!” the bartender said.

Harry hadn’t seen Hermione stumble out of her chair, but he did feel her come up behind him and rest her head on his back. She wrapped her arms around his waist and smiled dreamily as she took in his scent.

“You always smelled so good, Harry!”

The bartender raised his eyebrows at the two of them and shook his head as he walked toward the other end of the bar.

“Dance with me,” she whispered, lifting her head and turning him around to face her. “We haven’t danced in such a long time. Do you remember that night on the beach! I want to go back there, Harry!”

“We can’t go back there, Hermione,” he said gently.

”Why not?” she said. “Are you a wizard or not? We could get a time turner from Professor McGonagallagall.”

Again, she broke off into hysterical laughter as she drunkenly mispronounced the professor’s name.

“Did you hear what I just said, Harry?” she said between giggles. “I said Professor McGonagagallagallagall.”

She started to sway back and forth and took Harry’s hand to spin herself around. A few of the patrons, who usually kept to themselves, couldn’t help but laugh at the spectacle Hermione was making.

“Sweetheart,” Harry said into her ear. “Let’s go home, okay?”

Hermione smiled suggestively at him. “Hmmmmm.”

He took her hand and led her toward the door and they were soon outside in the muggy summer air.

Harry had just closed the door behind them when Hermione flung herself into his arms and started kissing him. She nuzzled into his neck and he couldn’t deny that it felt good to have her doing what she was doing, but this wasn’t the way he wanted it to happen.

“Hermione,” he said, trying to break free from her, but finding it incredibly difficult when she breathed into his ear.

“Hmmmm,” she slurred. “You smell so good, Harry. Take me home.”

He grabbed hold of her and apparated them both back to the cottage.

Sam looked up welcomingly at them, but Harry looked sternly at him and Sam whimpered back into the kitchen. Hermione was barely able to walk so Harry picked her up and carried her into the bedroom.

He placed her down gently on the bed and caressed her cheek as he did so.

“It’s okay,” he whispered to her.

He pulled the blanket over her and was about to leave when she grabbed his hand.

”Don’t leave me, Harry,” she said, her voice taking on a serious tone. “I want you to say with me. Don’t you want me anymore?”

He sat back down on the bed and looked at her. “I do,” he whispered. “You have no idea how much, but not like this.”

She nodded, her smile fading. “Will you stay with me, then? Until I fall asleep?’

He looked at her and nodded. He lay back on the bed and she snuggled into him, her head resting on his shoulder. Within seconds, she was fast asleep.

Harry lay there, wide awake, his arms wrapped protectively around her. It wasn’t too long before he, too, was fast asleep.

Author’s note: Well, here’s the morning after Hermione’s drunken night. I hope you guys like this! It’s a little slice of fluff for you all…Please read and review! And yes I’m on a Michelle Branch kick lately with the songs…this one was playing just as I finished typing chapter! That’s my creative process at work for you! LOL!

Chapter Ten
You Set Me Free

“Can't you see?
There's a feeling that's come over me
Close my eyes
You're the only one that leaves me completely breathless

No need to wonder why
Sometimes a gift like this you can't deny

'Cause I wanted to fly,
so you gave me your wings
And time held its breath so I could see, yeah
And you set me free”

(Michelle Branch, “You Set Me Free”)

Oh, God. I must be dead.

Hermione groaned and rolled over on her side.

Who started the Quidditch match in my head?

She tried to open her eyes, but one glance at the sunlight caused her so much pain, she shut her eyes immediately back and buried her face deep into the pillow.

What the hell happened to me?

She felt as if she was going to be sick at any moment, but she honestly didn’t know if she had the capability---both mentally or physically to move from the bed to the bathroom.

She managed somehow to get up in a crouching position, all the while keeping her eyes tightly closed. As she rose up out of bed, the nauseous feeling she’d experienced the moment she woke up seemed to worsen.

Oh, God. I’m going to be sick!

Mustering up all the strength she could, she rushed out of bed and into the bathroom.

She couldn’t say how long she’d been in the bathroom, but she figured that she threw up everything she’d ever eaten in her life. When she finally walked out of the bathroom, she yawned and looked down at her clothes. The foul smell she’d smelled a moment ago wasn’t from the bathroom, but from her own clothes.

Hermione lifted her shirt up to her nose and took a whiff and grimaced.

I smell like a brewery.

She made her way back to the bed and for the first time noticed that Harry was in the bed, too.

Where did he come from?

HOLD ON! We couldn’t have…I mean, I would have remembered that, wouldn’t I?

She took a deep breath as she sat at the edge of the bed trying hard to remember the events of the night before. She remembered going dress shopping with Luna. She remembered going to the party for D.J. Malfoy and she remembered how painful it had been to watch Ginny with her son. Then, she’d gone up to the roof for some air when Harry found her. They’d had a nice moment up on the roof and then they’d come downstairs.

Then that stupid, shallow cow Lisa Turpin shows up and grabs Harry like he was the grand prize!

Not being able to watch Lisa hanging all over Harry, Hermione remembered how she’d walked through Hogsmeade and found herself at the pub. She racked her brain trying to remember what happened after that, but came up empty.

Harry and I couldn’t have slept together, could we? I imagine I was pretty out of it, but he wouldn’t have…I mean he couldn’t have…

As she sat there deep in thought, it occurred to her that she was still wearing the clothes she was wearing the night before. She turned around on the bed and leaned over Harry and pulled back the duvet cover and saw to her relief that he, too, was fully dressed. She couldn’t help a lingering look at him as he slept. He always looked so peaceful.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

Hermione jumped back and nearly fell off the bed. His screaming hurt her head. She grabbed hold of her head and rubbed her temple.

“Jesus, Hermione!” Harry said, rubbing his eyes and sitting up. “You scared the hell out of me!”

“I-I’m sorry,” she muttered, moving to the edge of the bed.

“What the hell were you doing?”

She looked at him sheepishly. She couldn’t very well tell him she was looking at him sleep, could she?

“Nothing,” she said unconvincingly.

They stared at each other for a moment.

“Are you okay?” he asked her.

She nodded.

“I’m surprised,” he said, with a laugh, as he reached for his glasses on the bedside table.

“Well, you missed my worship of the porcelain god this morning,” Hermione said, rubbing her head again. “It wasn’t my best moment. That’s what I get for drinking. How, um, how much did I drink last night?”

“I don’t know,” Harry said, leaning back against the headboard. “I showed up at The Hog’s Head and you were pretty much pissed by then.”

“Oh,” Hermione said. “There’s a reason why I never drink and this is it.”

Harry started laughing and Hermione looked up in surprise.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he said, still laughing.

“What?” she asked again.

He continued to laugh; only enraging Hermione even more. She got up from the edge of the bed and walked over to him and promptly sat on his lap.

“Harry James Potter,” she said, looking into his green eyes. “You tell me what you’re laughing at or I’ll never get up.”

“Okay,” he said, still chuckling. “You’re quite the funny drunk, Hermione.”

“Oh, God!” Hermione said, gasping. She put her hand over her mouth. A few seconds later, she brought it back down. “What did I do?”

“You were mostly incoherent, but you called Professor McGonagall, Professor McGonagallagallagall.”

“I did?” Hermione asked. She was quite a bit relieved at this. If this was the worst her behavior was last night, she need not worry about embarrassing herself.

“Did I do anything else?” she asked, trying not to sound too concerned.

“You hit on me,” he said, his eyes twinkling.

“I what?”

“You heard,” he said, grinning at her.

“Well, I must have been drunk if I was hitting on you,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Yeah,” Harry said, stifling a laugh as Hermione got off of his lap and sat on the side of the bed. “You kept telling me that I smelled so good and how you wanted me to take you home. Then, you asked me to dance with you and I took you outside and you proceeded to nearly molest me right on the streets of Hogsmeade.”

Hermione glared at him.

“I did not!”

“You can go back to The Hog’s Head tonight,” he said. “I’m sure they can corroborate my version of the events of last night.”

“But, we didn’t,” Hermione said, her voice faltering. “We didn’t do anything, right?”

Harry put a hand on her shoulder.

“We didn’t do anything,” he reassured her. “We apparated back here and I carried you into the bedroom. You wanted me to stay with you until you fell asleep, so I did. I must have dozed off, too.”

She was silent for awhile.

“Hermione?” Harry asked her. “You know that I’d never take advantage of you when you were like that, don’t you?”

She gave him a slight smile.

”Yeah,” she said. “I’m just so embarrassed. What if this makes the papers?”

“It won’t make the papers!” he assured her. “Most of the people who go into The Hog’s Head usually don’t want anyone to know they were there. I’m sure you’re not the first person to get drunk in there and you won’t be the last. No one’s going to know. And if they do, they’ll have to answer to me.”

She smiled gratefully at him. “Always the hero.”

”Well, I try,” he said, pulling back the duvet cover and getting out of bed. He allowed himself a quick stretch.

“Do you know how to make a sobrietus potion?” she asked him.

“Yes, I do,” he said. “Did you want me to make you some?”

“I’d be eternally grateful,” she said.

“Okay,” he said. “Let me just pop into the loo and I’ll take care of you then, okay?”

“Okay,” she said, smiling at him as he walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

A few minutes later, they were both in the kitchen. Harry was eating a bowl of cereal and Hermione was nursing a big goblet of sobrietus potion. Sam sat at her feet.

To her relief, there was no mention of her drunken behavior the night before in The Daily Prophet.

She was reading through the paper when Harry looked at her as if he’d just had a wonderful idea.

“What are you doing today?” he asked her.

“I hadn’t planned on anything,” she said. “Unless you wanted to sign those papers?”

“Not yet,” he said, ignoring the glare she gave him.

“But how about a day of fun,” he said, smiling at her. “Just you and me? We could take Sam for a walk? Go into Hyde Park for a picnic. The weather’s supposed to be perfect today.”

“Are you trying to woo me?” she asked him, her cheeks reddening a little.

“Woo you?” he asked her. “What makes you think I’m trying to woo you? And does anyone even use the word ‘woo’ anymore?”

“You’re such a goofball,” she said, laughing.

“I never said I wasn’t,” he said. “So, would you Mrs. Soon to Be Ex Goofball go with your husband, Mr. Goofball for a walk in the park? It’ll do you good to get out.”

Hermione thought about this. It would be nice to get out on a beautiful day. When she’d lived in London full time one of her most favorite things to do on a perfect sunny day such as today was to go for a walk in the park. She and Harry used to do it all the time. It would be just like old times, she thought to herself. A little voice in her head said that maybe this wouldn’t be such a good idea.

I’m sick to death of that little voice.

“Okay,” she said. “You’re on. But no funny business, mister.”

“I promise,” he said, beaming at her. She got up from the table.

“I better go get in the shower, then,” she said, walking out of the kitchen and toward the bedroom.

Harry smiled down at Sam and revealed that under the table he’d crossed his fingers as he’d made his “promise” to Hermione.

****

They weren’t the only ones wanting to take advantage of the summer sunshine. They arrived in the park at just before noon and a number of people scattered the lawns, enjoying picnics or enjoying a quick break from their workday.

Hermione held on tight to the leash and laughed as Sam pranced ahead of them.

“He likes this, doesn’t he?” she asked Harry.

“He doesn’t come out this way much,” Harry said. “We usually just keep our walks to Thackerey Drive.”

“Why?” Hermione asked. “I thought you loved coming here!”

“I do,” he said, looking away from her.

“Well, why haven’t you come back here?”

“Because this was where you and I always went,” he said. “I didn’t want to share that with anyone else.”

Despite herself, Hermione was quite touched by what he’d said. She couldn’t imagine sharing this place with anyone other than him, either.

Hermione looked at him and felt that familiar closeness coming over her again.

“Um, so you don’t ever see yourself bringing Lisa here?” she asked, trying to sound unconcerned.

He shook his head. “I don’t think I’ll be bringing her anywhere else, to tell you the truth. She probably wouldn’t want to see me after I ditched her last night to come to your rescue.”

“My hero,” Hermione said, putting her free hand to her forehead and pretending to swoon. “But, seriously, Harry. I’m sure if you explained the situation to her, she’d understand.”

“I don’t think so,” he said. “Besides, I don’t think I see that going anywhere, anyway. We’re too different.”

As Harry walked a little bit ahead of her, Hermione couldn’t help smiling at this news.

“So,” he asked her, as they approached a food stand. “Do you fancy eating something now?”

She gave a faint smile. “I think so. Just something light though. And a club soda.”

“Okay,” he said. “Why don’t you and Sam find an empty spot and I’ll bring the food?”

“Okay,” she said, tugging gently at the leash to steer Sam toward the grass. “We’ll be right over there.”

Harry nodded and quickly placed an order. He ordered Hermione’s favorite sandwich---roast beef of whole wheat toast with light mustard. He grabbed a bag of pretzels and got a BLT sandwich for himself. He was loaded down with a carton of food when he finally found Hermione and Sam, who were sitting under a tree on the blanket Hermione had brought along.

Hermione took off her sunglasses and leaned back on her elbows as she took in the sunlight.

Harry handed her a sandwich and her soda and she sat up and unwrapped the sandwich and took a bite. Sam whimpered beside her so she took a piece of her roast beef and watched as Sam nibbled it.

“So what is it that you’re going to be doing?” she asked him.

He took a swig from his soda and looked at her. “What?”

“This business venture of yours?” she asked him. “It must be something great if it’s made you give up your old job, Harry.”

Harry looked a little uncomfortable.

“I hope so,” he said.

“Do you think you’ll be able to live without saving people’s lives on a regular basis?” she teased. “You do have that terrible ‘saving people’ complex.”

He laughed.

“Not that I’m complaining,” she said, shaking her head. “Because that ‘saving people’ thing saved me on a number of occasions, apparently as early as last night, too!”

“Well,” Harry said. “I imagine I’ll still be open to save damsels in distress.”

“Of course,” Hermione said, winking at him. “So what is this venture? You can tell me, can’t you?”

He looked at her, wanting to tell her, but he just wasn’t ready to share it with her, just yet.

“I would like to tell you, believe me,” he said. “But, I just don’t want to jinx it. Just know that I’m very excited and scared about it all at the same time.”

“Well, that sounds mysterious,” Hermione said. “Okay, how about if I ask you questions and you tell me if I’m warm or cold? Just to ease my curiosity a bit, please?”

“Okay,” he said, a little uncertainly.

Hermione smiled and sat facing him. Her nose scrunched up as she was deep in thought. Harry thought she’d never looked more adorable as when she was trying to figure something out.

“Okay,” she said. “You’re not going to be teaching at Hogwarts, right?”

He shook his head. “Definitely not.”

“Okay,” she said, scratching her chin. “I’ve got it! You’re going to take up Quidditch again?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “Way off, Hermione.”

“Hmmm,” she said, thoughtfully. “Okay. You’re going to become a magical contractor and paint houses all over London.”

“Oh, yeah,” he said. “I don’t think I’d get very far without you barking orders to me like you did with the cottage.”

She looked affronted at this and punched him playfully on the arm.

“I didn’t bark orders at you!” she protested. “I led the organization of her design process. There’s a big difference.”

“We need to ask Ron,” Harry said.

“We don’t need to ask Ron,” Hermione said. “He’d only take you’re side.”

“For good reason!” Harry said, teasingly.

Hermione pretended to scowl at him. “Okay, well, if you’re not going to tell me, then I’ll just have to---“

Harry looked at her. “You’ll just have to do what?”

“This,” she said. And before he knew what she was doing, she’d grabbed his glasses from his face and took off running through the park. Harry laughed at her before taking off to follow her, Sam in tow.

Neither of them noticed the American gentleman who had taken a number of pictures of them as they enjoyed their picnic and as they took off on their playful game of tag.

****

It had been a fantastic day. They’d spent the whole day in the park. After he’d finally caught up to her and retrieved his glasses, they walked through the park past the different monuments and sights. They people watched and tried to pick out the older people in the park and say which of their friends would be like that person when they got older.

They enjoyed ice cream and even played a quick game of croquet with another couple who needed two more people for a game.

They were both somewhat tired as they made their way back down Thackerey Drive toward the cottage.

Hermione rested her head on Harry’s shoulder, stifling a yawn as they walked.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had such a perfect day.

When they walked back into the cottage, Sam ran for the kitchen to get some water from his dish and Hermione put his leash on the table beside the door.

“It’s late,” she said, looking down at her watch.

“Yeah,” Harry said, dreading what she was going to say next. He knew that she was going to say that it was late and that she should get to bed, but he didn’t want to let her go just yet. They’d had too nice a time.

She walked toward the bedroom, and Harry hesitated only a moment before quickly walking over to her, grabbing her hand and turning her to face him. She didn’t say anything and he just looked into her brown eyes.

He pulled her to him and their faces were just inches apart.

“Good night,” she whispered.

”Good night,” he said. Neither of them moved.

Harry took his hand to caress her cheek softly.

“Harry, I—“

But she didn’t get to finish her sentence as he leaned in and claimed her lips. She didn’t respond at first, shocked at what he’d done. But, as she gave into the warm feelings he was inciting in her, she wrapped her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss.

****

“Governor?” the private detective said on his mobile phone.

“Yes?” Joe Keegan said impatiently. “This better be important, Miller. I have a briefing in ten minutes.”

“It is,” Miller said. “I got some photographs of that girl. Apparently, your son isn’t the only man in her life, sir.”

“Good,” Joe said. “Send them to me via e-mail as soon as possible.”

“You’ve got it,” Miller said. “You should have them within the hour.”

Author’s note: Cliffhanger Amy is back and worse than ever before! I’m sorry, guys! It was the perfect way to end the chapter!!!! I hope you aren’t too mad with me!!!! I’ll honestly try and not keep you waiting too long!

Author’s note: This chapter was near torture to write…it was written and rewritten and rewritten again and I think I’m finally satisfied. I’m telling you writer’s block rears its ugly head at the worst of times. I’m trying to control it, guys. I hope it doesn’t come on again like it did this time. I also have to admit I was a bit preoccupied this evening with the finale of Friends. I won’t spoil it for anyone who hasn’t watched it yet, but I was very satisfied with the ending of it…but enough about that… on with Chapter Eleven. I hope you will read and review.

Chapter 11

If She Knew What She Wants

“If she knew what she wants
(He'd be giving it to her)
If she knew what she needs
(He could give her that too)
If she knew what she wants
(But he can't see through her)
If she knew what she wants
He'd be giving it to her”

(The Bangles, “If She Knew What She Wants”)

It was just past ten in the evening when Karen Granger finally turned the television off and decided it was finally time for bed. She hadn’t meant to spend the evening in front of the television, but she’d found herself engrossed in a murder mystery and couldn’t tear herself away until she found out who had actually done it.

The house was quiet, save for the ticking from the grandfather clock in the foyer. Robert had gone to bed an hour ago. He’d spent his afternoon off on the golf course playing two rounds. He’d been positively knackered by the time he made it home.

She was about to ascend the staircase to join him when the doorbell chimed. The sound startled her and she wondered who on earth would be calling at such a late hour. She sighed as she made her way toward the door. She peeked out the window beside the door to see who it was and was quite surprised to see Hermione standing on the doorstep.

Karen unlocked the door and smiled welcomingly at her daughter, whose eyes were focused on the ground. Karen stepped outside and took her hand to tilt her daughter’s chin up so she could get a good look at her. Her heart sank as she took in Hermione’s sad face. Her eyes were red and puffy and her cheeks were flushed. She’d obviously been crying.

“Hermione?” Karen asked, concern dripping from her voice. “Sweetheart? What is it? What’s wrong?”

Hermione’s lower lip trembled as she looked at her mother. “I—I didn’t know where else to go. I saw your light was still on so I took a chance. I know it’s late, Mum, but I—“

Karen cut Hermione off by giving her a comforting hug. She soothingly whispered in Hermione’s ear. “It’s going to be okay, sweetie.”

******************

A few minutes later, the two of them were sitting at the kitchen table nursing cups of tea. They hadn’t said much since they’d sat down. Karen was waiting for Hermione to take the lead. Though, truth be told, she didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to know what, or namely whom, had Hermione in such a state. Harry Potter.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Karen asked, looking at Hermione.

Hermione gave a half-hearted laugh as she used her finger to trace the rim of her teacup. “I honestly don’t think anyone can help me, Mum. Can you tell me how to clean up the utter mess I’ve made of my life?”

Karen looked sympathetically at Hermione. “Well, I can try if you tell me what happened?”

“I should never have come back home like this,” Hermione said shaking her head. “I should have known better.”

“Why did you?” she asked. “You could have posted those papers, you know?”

“He wasn’t going to sign them, Mum,” Hermione said, shaking her head. “I knew that. But, I still had to come back. I thought I’d done such a good job of putting it all behind me. I told myself I was over him and that my life wasn’t here anymore. I had a new life, a new love and a new career in New York that was all mine.”

“Sounds perfect,” Karen said.

“You’d think, wouldn’t you?” Hermione asked sardonically. “But you want to know the truth? Other than my job, I haven’t really been all that happy in New York. I like to think I started over, but how could I? How could I really, Mum? How could I when I couldn’t let go of the past? And I tried, but it only made me think about it more.”

Hermione took a deep breath as she remembered the events that led up to that horrible day. She hadn’t talked to anyone about this in such a long time. She’d broached the subject with her flatmate Abby, but she hadn’t really talked about her emotions and what she’d been feeling. She hadn’t been ready then, but as she looked at her mother, she knew she was ready now.

******Begin Flashback****

“Hermione?” Harry’s voice called to her. She was in the bedroom, reading about magical births. The healer had told her to take it easy when she could. She was six months along now and she’d had a scare with high blood pressure a few times. The doctor had told her to cut her course load at university, which she’d regretfully done. He’d also prescribed bed rest. For someone who wasn’t used to lying around, it was nearly torture for her to just sit around and be waited on.

She looked up with a grin as Harry came into the bedroom. His cheeks were flushed with excitement as he sat down on the side of the bed and chastely kissed his wife hello.

“How’s my family today?” he asked, patting her stomach.

“Well, your wife is sick of sitting around,” Hermione said with a laugh. “And your baby here is definitely going to be quite the little footballer. He or she has been kicking me all day. I don’t think they’re going to be one to sit around all day either. We’re probably going to have our hands full with this one, Harry.”

Harry laughed. “Well, I have great news!”

Hermione closed her book and looked up at him with a sly grin. “Scientists have found a way for men to experience child birth?”

Harry winced. “No, thank Merlin!”

Hermione snapped her fingers in disappointment. “Damn! And I thought you had great news!”

“I do,” Harry said, getting off the bed and heading for the closet. He pulled down his suitcase and Hermione’s heart sank. She didn’t need him to go on any further. She knew what was coming.

“We’ve got a lead on that case we’ve been working on for nearly a year, Hermione,” Harry said, opening up the case on the bed and walking over to the dresser and beginning to pull out trousers and socks. “Remus says that we need to leave straightaway. There’s an uprising in South America. A number of attacks have been taking place there and in Central America. Muggles attacked in the middle of the night for no apparent reason. Anyway, I can’t get into too much of it now, but we really feel as if we have an idea of who’s behind it all.”

Hermione looked down at the book on her stomach and tried not to sound mad.

“When do you leave?”

“In about an hour,” Harry said, absently walking over to the closet again and pulling out some shirts. Hermione was silent. She didn’t want to be the kind of wife who wanted to be with her husband all the time. That was far from the case. She valued her private time as did Harry. They knew when to give each other space. But, lately, he’d been away an awful lot. She hadn’t complained at the beginning. In fact, she’d been all for him continuing on his job as he had before. She had told him she was pregnant, not an invalid. She could do just fine and if she had any problems she had her parents, the Weasleys and any other number of friends to turn to. She’d been the supportive, dutiful wife.

What she hadn’t told him though was that with the complications from her pregnancy, she’d been quite scared. She honestly didn’t know what she’d do if anything happened. She needed him there for his support, mentally, physically and emotionally.

“What?” he asked, seeing the sad look upon her face as he closed his suitcase.

“Nothing,” she said, picking up her book and leafing absently through the pages.

“Hermione?”

“Nothing,” she repeated. Crookshanks came into the room and purred as he jumped on the bed and nestled beside Hermione.

“You’re mad,” he said. “I can tell.”

“I’m not mad,” she said crossly. “If I was mad, I’d tell you I was mad, I’m not mad.”

“Yes, you are,” he teased.

She glared at him. “I’m bloody fed up with this!”

“With what?”

“Don’t act as if you don’t know,” she said staring at him. “I really wish you wouldn’t go this time, Harry. Can’t someone else go?”

“I have to go,” he said. “This is my case. It’s the one I’ve been busting my arse over for the past year. I shouldn’t be gone long. Didn’t the healer say you’d be okay? You haven’t had any problems in the past couple of weeks? I probably won’t even be gone a week, Hermione.”

She knew she was being stupid, but she couldn’t help it. Maybe it was the hormones from the pregnancy. She cried at the drop of a hat lately, but she just couldn’t let this go.

“The world’s not going to end if you don’t end up being the hero, Harry,” she said softly.

He looked at her as if she’d slapped him.

“Not this again,” he said, getting up from the bed and pacing in front of her. “So you think I have this hero complex, do you?”

“Don’t you?” she spat back angrily.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he retorted.

“You know damn well what it means!” she exclaimed.

“Hermione,” he said, trying to keep his emotions in check. “Please don’t let’s get into this right now, okay? Come on. This can’t be very good for the baby.”

“I just want to know,” she said trying to stay calm. “If I’m going to be raising the baby myself? Will you be off storming Death Eater camps when the baby’s teething? Will you be leading raids when the child goes off to Hogwarts?”

He knew she was just being emotional from the pregnancy, but her words were stinging him. She had to know he loved her and their child very much. If she didn’t, she didn’t know him at all.

“Hermione,” he said calmly. “I love you. I’m going to raise our family with you. I’m not leaving you alone to face all this yourself. I will always choose you; you know that, don’t you? But, this is my job. A lot of people are counting on me right now. I can’t leave them in the lurch.”

“But you have no problem leaving me?” she asked, instantly regretting her words.

“You know that isn’t true,” he said softly. “You mean more to me than anyone or anything else, you know that don’t you?”

She looked at him and as always found that she couldn’t stay mad at him for very long.

“I know that, Harry,” she said. “It’s just---I don’t know my emotions are all haywire these days. I just—I’m scared, Harry. I want you to come home to us. Your job is so dangerous. I sometimes wonder if you even know how much. I just feel as if sometimes your job is your life, Harry. I wonder where I fit in sometimes.”

“You fit in at the top,” he said, sitting down beside her on the bed. “I promise to come home to you and we’ll go baby shopping like we planned. We still need to get loads of nappies and baby clothes and all that other baby stuff, right?”

She laughed. “You are such a guy.”

“I know that,” he said. “That’s why I need you to help me thorough all this mess.”

She leaned into him and sighed. “I can never stay mad at you for too long, why is that?”

“Because I’m so handsome and charming?”

She looked thoughtful for a moment. She shook her head. “No, that can’t be it.”

“Scarlet woman,” he teased, kissing her forehead.

He got up from the bed and looked at his watch.

“I better get a move on,” he said. He looked over at his wife. “If you really want me to stay, Hermione. I will.”

She grinned. “It’s okay, Harry. Just come home to me, okay?”

He walked over to her and kissed her deeply and caressed her cheek.

“I love you,” he whispered. He leaned over her stomach and said,” I love you, too, baby.”

She laughed and watched as he gathered his suitcase and cloak and walked toward the bedroom door. He turned as he reached it and gave her one last smile before walking out the door.

_end of flashback_

“And I didn’t treat anyone fairly in all this,” Hermione said, pushing her teacup away. “I said some pretty hateful things to Harry before I left. And I made him think it was his fault that we lost the baby, Mum. I told him that I blamed him for not being there for me when I needed him. But, the truth was that it was my fault.”

“You’re fault?” Karen asked. “Hermione, sweetheart. You had no way of knowing what would happen.”

“But I should have known better,” Hermione said, fresh tears flowing freely down her cheeks. “I was six months pregnant! I was tired of being cooped up in the house and I just wanted to get some books from the university library. I didn’t think it would hurt anything if I just popped out of the cottage for an hour or two.”

Karen hated to see her daughter in so much pain and she wanted to say something to comfort her, but she knew that what Hermione needed to do was to talk about what had happened. She needed her mother to listen. So that’s what Karen did.

“We’d had that awful snowstorm,” Hermione said guiltily. “And I knew I was taking a chance, but I really didn’t think it would hurt anything if I just got out of the house for a bit. And it felt so good to be out again like that. I knew I should just apparate back home, but I was enjoying being out in the fresh air so much, I couldn’t resist a little walk around campus. I came out of that library and the air was so cold and biting, but it felt so good on my skin.”

Karen nodded.

“And I didn’t notice the icy patch on the steps,” Hermione choked out, her voice wracked with emotion. “I tried to grab onto the railing, but it just made it worse and I fell. All I could think about was please, don’t let anything happen to our baby.”

Karen sobbed and grabbed hold of her daughter’s hand trying to will Hermione to go on.

“I passed out from the fall,” Hermione recalled. “And the next thing I remember I was waking up in a hospital bed and you and dad were there and you told me that I’d lost the baby.”

“It was the hardest thing I’d ever had to do, Hermione,” Karen choked out. “But you nearly died yourself. I don’t know what I would have done if we’d have lost you, too.”

“And you tried to find Harry, but no one could reach him,” Hermione said. “And I just felt so alone and I wanted him there with me to help me deal with it. I sat there in that hospital room for a week dealing with it all by myself. I was so angry at myself and at him and at what had happened.”

“He was devastated,” Karen said, looking at her daughter. “Hermione, you should have seen his face when he found out that you’d lost the baby. He would have been with you if he’d known. You have to know that.”

Hermione nodded and wiped a tear from her face. “I know that. And I don’t know why, but we both sort of shut down then. When we both needed each other, we both shut down somehow.”

“I wanted to shake some sense into you both,” Karen said.

“I said some hurtful things to him and to you and Dad,” Hermione said. “But I really should have directed my anger at myself.”

“Listen to me, Hermione,” Karen said, cupping her daughter’s face in her hands. “It wasn’t your fault. It was an accident. No one is to blame for it. You’re human. You wanted some fresh air. Anyone else might have done the same thing given the same situation. You’ve never been one to like sitting around, unless it involved reading or studying.”

Hermione smiled a genuine smile at her mother’s attempt to lighten the mood.

“No one is to blame for what happened,” Karen said. “Not you and not Harry. It was an accident.”

Hermione nodded, wanting to believe her mother’s words.

“I wasn’t yours and Harry’s biggest supporters,” Karen said, looking at Hermione. “I was against your marriage at first. I just had such high hopes for you, Hermione. I didn’t want you to throw all your chances away. When you shut us all out after the miscarriage, I took a long, hard look at what you’d managed to accomplish as a young wife and as a student. I was so proud of you. You were proving me wrong, Hermione. You were able to have it all.”

“No,” Hermione said, shaking her head. “It wasn’t that easy. It was damn difficult, but at the end of the day, I always knew Harry would be there for me and I’d be there for him and we’d face it together, but losing the baby, just seemed to…”

“It’s not too late, Hermione,” Karen said. “He still loves you. Anyone with half a brain can see that. And I think you still love him, too. He’s the reason you arrived here in such a state, isn’t he?”

Hermione nodded, not at all surprised that her mother had managed to suss out everything by the minute details.

“We were getting along so well, Mum,” Hermione said wistfully. “We went to Hyde Park today and had a picnic and it just seemed like old times. Everything that had happened to us seemed to melt away and it was just him and me and it seemed perfect.”

Karen smiled.

“We came home,” Hermione said. “And he kissed me, Mum. And I felt…dizzy.”

“That’s how it’s supposed to feel,” Karen said, with a grin.

Hermione blushed.

“Things were getting out of hand pretty quickly,” Hermione said. “We came so close to making love and I so wanted to be with him like that again, and he said he loved me and I just panicked. Something in me made me push him away. And I just had to get out of there. I don’t deserve his love, Mum.”

“Why not?” Karen asked. “Why not?”

“Because all these years, I’ve made him think it was his fault,” Hermione said. “I made him feel like he was to blame. And the way I’ve treated Andrew…I accepted his proposal knowing full well that I could never love anyone the way I loved Harry.”

Karen gave her daughter a comforting pat on the shoulder.

“The way you still love Harry?” Karen asked, looking sternly at her daughter.

Hermione nodded.

“Well, it’s not too late, Hermione,” Karen said. “It’s never too late to sort out the bad stuff and make it right again.”

“You didn’t see the look on Harry’s face when I pushed him away, Mum,” Hermione said, shaking her head. “He’s pretty much finished with me.”

“I don’t believe that for a second,” Karen said optimistically.

“I wish I could believe you.”

“Well, you should,” Karen said, getting up from her chair and ushering Hermione to follow her.

“What?” Hermione asked, nonplussed.

“Mothers are always right,” Karen said smugly. “You can sort this out, Hermione. And you can start by telling your husband what you just told me.”

“I don’t know if I can,” Hermione said doubtfully.

“I thought that you Gryffindors were brave and courageous,” Karen lectured.

“Mum,” Hermione said, not needing to hear a lecture about good, old Gryffindor bravery and courage.

“Well,” Karen said. “You don’t have to sort it all out tonight. You can get a good night’s sleep and give Harry a chance to do the same. It will all look better in the morning. And everything will work out okay.”

“You have no way of knowing that, Mum,” Hermione said. “And what’s with all the clichés?”

“Trust me, sweetheart,” Karen said, walking with Hermione up the stairs. “Just trust me.”

And Hermione knew her mother was right. She needed to talk to Harry and tell him what she felt. She just prayed he would listen.

********

At JFK Airport, Andrew Keegan was just boarding a plane bound for London. He’d just come from meeting his father and he’d had the shock of his life.

In his carry-on bag was a folder of photographs of his fiancée with a green-eyed, raven-haired man whom he didn’t know. He had no idea what awaited him in London, but he was bound and determined to find out the truth from Hermione.

Author’s note: This time it wasn’t writer’s block troubling me, it was finding a friggin’ song to go along with this chapter, but I dug deep into my CD collection and found this one and I thought it fit. Thanks for all the reviews, you guys! I really appreciate them.

Chapter 12

The Difference

“Night swimming in her diamond dress
Making small circles move across the surface
Stand watching from the steady shore
Feeling wide open and waiting for
Something warm and tender
Now she’s moving further from you
There was nothing that could make it easy on you
Every step you take reminds you that she’s walking wrong

Yeah, for all you know
This could be
The difference between what you need
And what you want”

(Matchbox 20, “The Difference”)

“I’m so glad we talked mum out of making us wear robes in the middle of June,” Ron said, as he watched Harry try on another suit jacket. “With it being an outdoor wedding and all, we’d be all grotty and sweaty in dress robes.”

Harry either didn’t hear Ron’s comment or didn’t think it was funny as he just discarded the 12^th jacket he’d tried on and began thumbing through the rack once again.

“Of course Mum nixed the idea I had about us wearing casual clothes full stop,” Ron said. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with wearing shorts and a t-shirt to your wedding. I mean, it’s not about the clothes, really, is it? It’s about saying that for better or for worse stuff and all that. Besides, I’d really like to see Luna in a bikini. You wouldn’t know it of course, but Luna actually has—“

Ron’s voice trailed off as he watched Harry staring absently at the rack of trousers before him.

“Actually has scaly skin and awful warts all over her body,” Ron finished, his eyes twinkling mischievously at Harry, but his voice quite deadpan. “And at first I was intimidated by it, but they’ve actually kind of grown on me and I love old Loony, warts and all.”

Ron gave out a laugh, but Harry still continued to stare at the rack of clothes before him.

“Okay,” Ron said, getting up from his chair and walking over to Harry. “What’s the problem?”

“Hmmm?” Harry asked.

“The problem,” Ron repeated. “You’ve been in quite the surly mood since you got here and I just wanted to know what got you all in a twist, though, I bet I don’t have to think too hard as I bet it involves your wife. Am I right?”

Harry looked over at Ron quite crossly and said sarcastically, “Yeah, you’re right. Happy, now?”

“Oh, yeah,” Ron said, nodding. “I’m on bloody cloud nine.”

Harry ran his hand impatiently through his hair.

“Listen, Ron. I really don’t want to talk about Hermione.”

“So, you’re just going to be an absolute berk the entire day because you’re upset about something that happened with the current, soon to be former Mrs. Potter?” Ron asked. Harry again glared at him, but Ron shook his head. “I didn’t mention her name, per se. Did I?”

Harry sighed. “I don’t know where to begin.”

“Well, you don’t have to begin at the start because I’ve pretty much been there for most of it, so just tell me what happened last night.”

“I kissed her,” Harry said simply.

Ron grinned. “Hehehe. Good job, Harry!”

Harry shook his head. “Yeah, you’d think so, wouldn’t you? But, appearances would be deceiving. It’s like two steps forward with her and one step back. Just when I think I’m making progress, that I’m finally getting my foot in the door, she slams that door right in my face.”

Ron looked at his friend, confused. “I don’t understand. You kissed her, right?”

Harry nodded. “And she kissed you back?” Again, Harry nodded. “So, did you, you know…shag?”

“Merlin’s beard!” Harry exclaimed, laughing in spite of himself. “You’re about to get married in a couple days time and you can’t even say the word shag without blushing?”

This time, it was Ron who glared at Harry.

“Hey,” Ron said defensively. “We’re talking about you and my best female friend having sex. It’s not something I’m entirely comfortable with. It’s like thinking of my parents doing it. Logically, you know they had to have at one point…well, in my parents’ case it would have seven times,” his voice trailed off as he thought about what he’d just said and he visibly cringed. “Okay, let’s get off of that train of thought.”

Harry chuckled and then his facial expression got all serious again as he remembered exactly what had happened last night. How she’d responded to his kisses. How he’d seen that look of love in her eyes. He remembered how she’d looked as if she’d wanted him as badly as he wanted her. Things were going fine until he’d told her what he was feeling at that moment. With three little words, he seemed to jolt her back into reality and she pulled abruptly away from him. He related this to Ron who listened sympathetically.

“So where did she go?” Ron asked. “She didn’t go back to the States, did she?”

“I don’t think so,” Harry said. “I checked with Luna and she hasn’t seen her so my guess is she went to her folks’.”

“Well,” Ron said. “Pick out a suit and we’ll go and see her and knock some sense into her.”

Harry shook his head vehemently. “I think we should just give her some space.”

“Last time you did that, she gave herself a continent’s length of space,” Ron reminded him. “You’ve got your chance to get her back, Harry. She’s like a snitch.”

Harry raised his eyebrow at Ron.

“Go with me on this,” Ron said with a grin. “She’s flying right past you. You dive after her, and she’s just within your grasp, Harry. You’re so close. You’re not going to pull back, are you? You’re going to go after that snitch with everything you’ve got.”

“Trust you to put this in Quidditch terms,” Harry said with a laugh.

“Well, I actually think it’s a perfect analogy,” Ron said, feeling puffed up. “Even Hermione would be impressed. In fact, I think once you’ve both made up, I’m going to tell her about it and she’ll be upset that she didn’t come up with it herself.”

*******

Hermione spent the majority of the morning, sleeping in. She wasn’t usually one to sleep late and honestly couldn’t remember the last time she’d done so. But, with everything going on and her apprehension at seeing Harry, she’d decided to spend the morning in her old bedroom, in her old bed.

She’d been delighted to see her parents hadn’t changed it much. She needed some sense of normalcy. If she’d found that it had changed, she wasn’t sure if she could have handled it. She needed to be somewhere safe and this bedroom was that. She wasn’t fooling herself into thinking she’d stay in that bedroom forever, but for now, she just wanted to stay in here and sulk.

The conversation with her mother had been quite therapeutic, in more ways than one. For one thing, she knew for sure how she felt. And for another, she was glad to have her mother to confide in again. Hermione had missed their little heart-to-heart talks over cups of cocoa and tea. She resolved that no matter what happened in her romantic life, she would never shut her parents out of her life again.

At around noon, she knew it was time to get up and face the day, whatever it held. She groaned as she pulled the duvet off of her and rubbed her eyes sleepily. She showered and put her makeup on and fixed her hair. She threw on the same clothes she had on the other night as she hadn’t had the foresight to take a change of clothes when she’d left (or rather, fled) Harry’s last night.

She had just finished pulling her hair back into a ponytail when her mother knocked lightly on the door.

Hermione had figured her parents would both be at work.

“Mum?” Hermione asked uncertainly as her mother opened the door. “I thought you were already at the office.”

“You’re dad went in,” Karen said with a warm smile. “I thought I’d stay in with you.”

Hermione smiled. “Mum. You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know,” Karen said, leaning against the door. “But, you needed me. I’m glad to do it.”

Her mother had a strange expression on her face and Hermione looked at her quizzically.

“What is it?”

Karen fidgeted. “You have a visitor, actually.”

“Harry?”

Karen nodded. “And Ron, too.”

Hermione sighed. “What do I say?”

“You’ll know when you go downstairs, won’t you?”

Hermione nodded and took a deep breath as she followed her mother slowly down the hall and then down the stairs. She saw Harry and Ron, standing in the foyer, talking. Her heart leapt as it always did at the sight of Harry. He was wearing a pair of jeans and a simple white cotton t-shirt, and trainers.

Ron grinned nervously when he saw Hermione. He was wearing track pants and a Chudley Canons t-shirt.

The four of them stood in the foyer, the silence nearly deafening. Harry and Hermione were both looking everywhere, but at each other and Karen suddenly brightened as she had an idea.

“Say, Ron,” Karen said, looking over Harry’s shoulder. “I know that you are probably hungry.”

“Always,” Ron said, beaming at her.

“Right before you arrived, I was contemplating fixing Hermione here some brunch. Why don’t you come with me to help and I’ll let you sample some of the bacon.”

Ron rubbed his hands together. “That’s a fantastic idea, Dr. Granger. I’m right behind you.”

Harry looked up, alarmed. His moral support, as always, was thinking of his stomach. So much for being by his side to help him out, Harry mused as he watched Ron gleefully follow Dr. Granger out of the foyer and toward the kitchen.

“So,” Harry said, uncomfortably.

“So,” Hermione echoed. “How did you know I was here?”

Harry looked up from the floor and gave her a slight smile. “Lucky guess?”

Despite herself, Hermione smiled at him. From the kitchen they heard the sound of Ron raving over the bacon to Dr. Granger.

“How about we go outside in the garden?” Hermione asked.

Harry nodded and followed her out the door. They settled on one of the benches in the garden and sat there, listening to the silence between them.

They both were thinking too hard about what they wanted to say and how they wanted to say it.

Harry turned to Hermione and said, “I’m sorry,” at the same time that she turned to him and said the exact same thing. They both looked taken aback by it and then both nervously laughed.

“You, first,” he said grinning at her.

“No, you,” she said, smiling shyly at him.

He exhaled. “I’m really sorry about what—no. No, I’m not going to say I’m sorry for kissing you. Because, to tell you the truth, Hermione, I’ve wanted to do it since you first came back.”

Hermione looked at him, wanting to say something back, but couldn’t find the words.

“What I am sorry about, though, is that what I did freaked you out so much that you had to run out like you did,” he said. “Did I do something wrong? Because, you know I wouldn’t have forced you to do—“

Hermione nodded vehemently. She put a hand on his knee. “Harry, of course, I know that! I just---sometimes, I don’t know where I fit in. I have this life back in New York and then I come back here and this fits, too. Being with you yesterday in the park brought it all back to me, Harry.”

She took his hand. “I don’t know what I’m doing anymore, to tell you the truth. I don’t like the person I became right after the baby.”

Harry looked away.

“I know,” she said softly. “I know we haven’t talked about the miscarriage, really, but it’s always with us. I need to tell you something, Harry.”

Harry looked at her, his green eyes trained solely on hers. She was about to open her mouth when the sound of the backdoor opening caused her to look reluctantly away from Harry. Expecting either her mother or Ron to be there, she was gob smacked to find Andrew Keegan staring at her. She squinted, wondering if the sun was so bright it was making her hallucinate. It couldn’t be Andrew, could it?

“Who’s that?” Harry asked, watching as Hermione shakily got to her feet.

Andrew came walking toward them, with Dr. Granger and Ron in tow. Andrew’s face brightened as he saw Hermione and he quickened his step to get to her. When he did, he surprised her by picking her up in a warm embrace and spinning her around.

“Mione,” he said, after he set her back down on the ground. Her cheeks flushed red with embarrassment.

Harry and Ron exchanged a look.

Karen wore a strained smile as she looked at her daughter apologetically. “Look who’s here, sweetheart.”

“Andrew,” Hermione whispered. “What are you doing here?’

Andrew looked over Hermione’s shoulder and saw a familiar looking man sitting on the bench. The man got up from his seat and walked over to stand beside Hermione. Andrew recognized him at once. This was the man from the photographs. This was the man that Hermione was having such a great time with in the park. Who was this man, Andrew mused to himself. And what did he mean to Hermione.

“I missed you,” Andrew said. “And I wanted to meet your parents.”

Hermione gave a weak laugh.

Will someone please come snatch me up and take me away from this?

Andrew looked expectantly at Hermione and gestured toward the only member of this group he hadn’t been formally introduced to.

“Hi,” Andrew said finally, when it appeared that Hermione wasn’t going to make the introduction. “I’m Andrew Keegan.”

Harry forced a smile. “Harry Potter. Pleased to meet you.”

Andrew nodded. “So, how do you know Mione?”

Ron stifled a laugh. Harry shot him a murderous look as did Hermione.

“We go way back,” Harry said politely. “We went to school together.”

Andrew looked at Hermione. “I thought you said you went to an all-girls school, Mione?”

Hermione looked up. She had that deer caught in headlights look to her face and her mother quickly tried to save the day.

“Well, the last two years of her schooling were at an all-girls academy, Andrew,” Karen said quickly. “She spent her primary school days at a regular school with Harry and Ron, here. Two of her oldest friends.”

Andrew nodded.

“Mione’s never mentioned you before,” Andrew said. “She did mention something about a Harriet and a Rhonda once, though.”

Ron elbowed Hermione, who was standing behind Andrew. He angrily mouthed the word, “Rhonda?” to her. She shot him a warning look.

“Good old Harriet and Rhonda,” Ron said with a teasing smirk. “Whatever happened to them, Mione?”

“I don’t know,” Hermione said, with clenched teeth at Ron. “I think Rhonda was involved in some terrible accident.”

Ron looked away to try and not bust out into laughter.

Andrew looked back between Ron and Harry before looking at his fiancée.

“I really missed you,” he said. “I had a few days off from the case and I thought I’d surprise you.”

“Mission accomplished,” she said weakly.

Karen looked at Andrew. “Say, Andrew. Why don’t I fix you a bit of lunch? I’m sure you’re starving and knackered from the flight. Ron and Harry, why don’t you stay, too?”

Harry was about to reply in the negative when Ron answered gleefully. “Of course, Dr. Granger. We’d be happy to.”

Andrew kissed Hermione on the cheek and put an arm around her. Hermione looked sheepishly at Harry.

“Good,” Karen said awkwardly. “Well, Andrew, why don’t I give you the grand tour of the house?”

Andrew nodded. “Sure.”

“I’ll, um, be right in,” Hermione said, watching as Andrew followed her mother into the house. When the three of them were alone, Hermione turned to Ron and hit him, hard on the arm.

“Ronald Billius Weasley!” she exclaimed. “What are you playing at?”

“Actually,” Ron corrected her with a grin. “My friends call me Rhonda.”

Hermione glared at him.

“Oh, come on!” Ron said. “Like that guy bought that Harriet and Rhonda crap. He knew it was me and Harry. If he’s smart like you said he was, he saw through all that.”

Hermione gave Ron a look before she retook her seat on the bench. She put her head in her hands.

“You let him call you Mione?” Harry asked. It was the first words he’d spoken in quite some time.

“Yeah,” Hermione shrugged. “Why?”

“Because you hate that nickname,” Ron finished for Harry. “You once took ten points from a Ravenclaw who called you that.”

“And you didn’t speak to me for a couple of days when I called you that once,” Harry chimed in.

“It’s just a name,” Hermione said defensively. “A nickname. He likes to call me that.”

“You’re not really going to marry him, are you?” Ron asked. “Aside from the fact that you aren’t divorced yet, I really don’t see you and him in a long-term basis with this guy.”

Hermione shoulders sank. “I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

“Well, figure it out,” Ron said sternly. “My wedding is in a couple of days and you’re not going to screw it up with the Harry-Hermione soap opera drama.”

“Is he going to take you to the wedding?” Harry asked.

”I don’t know,” Hermione said. “I’m just as shocked as you are to see him here. He’s been working on a big, high-profile case. I didn’t think he’d be able to pull himself away from it.”

“He can’t take you to the wedding,” Ron said. “He doesn’t know you’re a witch, Hermione. He’s going to be more than a little freaked out to see the lot that’s coming to my wedding, which includes a werewolf and a half-giant, to say the least. How you going to explain that away, Hermione?”

“Leave her alone, Ron,” Harry said protectively. “You are enjoying this way too much.”

“And it’s just getting better.”

Hermione looked up and glared at him.

“We, um, better get back inside before he gets suspicious,” Hermione said, getting to her feet once more, followed by an apprehensive Harry and a positively cheerful Ron.

*********

The impromptu lunch went better than expected. Ron, whose mouth was full most of the time, kept his comments to a minimum. Whenever he looked as if he was about to say something cheeky, Hermione or Harry would kick him in the shin hard under the table.

More than once, Hermione found herself stealing glances with Harry. How she wished she had the opportunity to talk to him. She would have told him the truth. She was going to tell him the truth, until Andrew’s unexpected arrival.

She was helping her mother clear the plates away when her mother had a call. She had to take it and went into her study. The idea of leaving Andrew alone in the dining room with Harry and Ron for too long didn’t appeal to Hermione at all, so she was trying her best to hurry.

She wasn’t fast enough as a few seconds later Andrew came into the kitchen, laden with plates.

“Your friend Ron sure can put it away, can’t he? Andrew said with a laugh. She took the plates from him and set them in the sink.

“So, your friends seem nice,” Andrew said, leaning against the counter.

“Why didn’t you tell me your two best friends in school were named Harry and Ron? Why’d you tell me that they were named Harriet and Rhonda?”

Hermione felt sick as she looked at him.

“I, um, I haven’t really been all that honest with you, Andrew,” Hermione said, putting a hand to her forehead.

Andrew stepped closer to her.

“Who is Harry, really?” Andrew asked her. “What does he mean to you, Hermione?”

Hermione thought long and hard about this question. Harry…what did he mean to her? That little voice in her head said one thing. One thing that kept echoing and echoing in her mind.

Harry means everything to me.

As she looked up at Andrew and saw his eyes pleading for some honesty with her, she knew she couldn’t lie. Not anymore.

She took a deep breath.

“You’re right, Andrew,” she said. “Harry’s not just my friend.”

Andrew steeled himself for what came next. What she said, however, wasn’t at all what he expected.

“Harry’s my husband,” she said quietly.

Author’s note: Thanks for the reviews and I apologize for the delay in this one again. I wrote it one way, but hated how it came out and had to start all over. Still not sure if I like how it turned out, but for better or worse, this is it! Please tell me what you think!

On a side note, I now have a livejournal! If you would like to get some insight into my life (don’t everyone go at once, now!)…you should go on over there and check it out. I also posted a phone post, so if you were curious as to what I sounded like…you can hear that too. A slight warning for you…I have a southern accent! Anyhoo, please check that out and if you haven’t read the story I’m writing with Heaven “Dirty Dancing”, please read that, too!

Links:

My live journal: http://www.livejournal.com/users/amynoelle/

Link to Dirty Dancing fanfiction: http://fanfiction.portkey.org/story/2119

Chapter 13

Nobody Knows It But Me

“I carry a smile when I'm broken in two
And I'm nobody without someone like you
I'm trembling at night and
Nobody knows it but me
I lie awake it's a quarter past three
I'm screaming at night as if
I thought you'd hear me
Yeah my heart is calling you
And nobody knows it but me

How blue can I get?
You could ask my heart
But like a jigsaw puzzle
It's been torn all apart
A million words couldn't say
Just how I feel
A million years from now, you know
I'll be loving you still”

(Tony Rich Project, “Nobody Knows It But Me)

“Your husband?” Andrew repeated, dumbfounded. “You, um, you mean your ex-husband, right?”

Hermione shook her head.

“No,” she said quietly, leaning against the kitchen counter for support. “He’s my husband.”

Andrew stared back at her, letting the words sink in.

“Were you going to tell me about this?” he asked.

She didn’t answer him. Instead, she focused her eyes on the pattern of the hardwood floor.

“Hermione,” Andrew began, taking a few tentative steps toward Hermione. “I don’t understand what’s going on.”

She picked up a dishtowel from the counter and began wringing it in her hands nervously. “He’s my husband, Andrew.” She looked up and met his questioning gaze. The can of worms had been opened and there was no turning back now, she thought as she looked at him. “We’ve been separated for nearly two years. I came back here to finalize my divorce.”

Andrew nodded. “Okay, but you’ve been here for two weeks. How long does it take for him to sign his name to divorce papers? You should have been in and out of London in one day.”

“It’s complicated,” she replied. One look at Andrew’s face and she knew that what she’d just said wasn’t what he wanted to hear. They both knew it wasn’t an answer, but an excuse.

“What’s so complicated?” Andrew asked sarcastically. “You put pen to paper and you sign your name?”

He began to pace in front of her, thinking. She could almost hear the wheels spinning in his head as he tried to work it all out in his mind.

“Unless,” he said, snapping his fingers. “Unless, of course, you came back here to see if there was still some sparks left in the old marriage, huh? Is that it, Hermione? Or did you decide to use your current boyfriend to make the estranged husband jealous? Jesus Christ, this is better than a soap opera!”

She vehemently shook her head. “No, Andrew. It’s not like that at all!”

“Why don’t you tell me what it is like because I have no idea who you are,” he said angrily. “There’s this girl that I know back in New York, who I love. But, this person standing before me now…she’s a stranger. She’s got all these secrets bottled up inside her that I had no idea about.”

“I understand that you’re angry,” Hermione began, but her voice died away when Andrew rounded on her.

“You have no idea what this is like!” he retorted.

“You’re right, I don’t,” she said rationally. “I don’t. But, I would like to try and explain to you…”

“You can’t explain this to me, Hermione,” Andrew said. “This isn’t something you can explain away. You lied to me. We’re to be married and you lied to me.”

She sighed as tears welled up in her eyes for what seemed like the hundredth time in two days. “Harry and I married right out of school, Andrew. We were kids when we got married.”

”Okay, so you were kids when you got married,” Andrew interrupted. “You made a mistake when you were a teenager. Hell, we all do something like that. You could have just told me.”

Hermione looked over at Andrew. He had it all wrong, she thought. Her marriage, though it had its good and bad moments, had never been a mistake. No matter what happened, she would never, ever see it that way. She and Harry both had made mistakes and would surely make others in the future, but the marriage, itself, hadn’t been a mistake.

“It wasn’t like that,” she said softly. “It wasn’t like that at all, Andrew. Harry and I have a very…”

“Funny way of getting a divorce?” Andrew interjected. His tone was dripping with sarcasm.

“I deserved that,” Hermione said with a wry smile.

In the dining room, just outside the kitchen, Ron was desperately pressing his ear to the kitchen door. His job was made that much harder because it was a swinging door and any sudden movement would cause the door to move, which would alert the kitchen’s occupants of his presence.

“Is it any wonder you never would have made a very good auror?” Harry asked, amused as Ron tried to steady the door.

“Sod off,” Ron said, without looking back at Harry. “You know if I didn’t think I’d miss something, I’d apparate back to the Burrow and nick a pair of those Extendable Ears. I think Mum’s still got a pair she took from the twins.”

“Ron,” Harry said, rolling his eyes. “Get away from that bloody door!”

Ron turned around finally and looked at his best friend. “You mean to tell me that you have no interest, whatsoever, in what’s being said in that kitchen?’

“Of course I do,” Harry replied. “But, I’m not going to stand there like an idiot with my ear pressed to a door.”

“Well,” Ron retorted quietly. “If you were an idiot with his ear pressed to the door, you’d be hearing Hermione give Andrew the condensed version of your marriage.”

Ron did a quick countdown and sure enough, before he hit one, Harry, too, was standing beside him, trying to listen in on the conversation between Hermione and Andrew.

“You’re so easy,” Ron said with a laugh.

“Shut up,” Harry snapped. “I can’t hear anything.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I didn’t want it to be this way,” she continued after she’d given Andrew a brief history of her marriage to Harry. She conveniently left out the witch and wizard part of their lives, figuring that one exposed secret was enough for now.

“So, you grew apart?” Andrew reiterated. “And you wanted to start over so you moved to New York?”

Hermione nodded.

“And you hadn’t spoken to or seen him since then?”

Again, Hermione nodded.

“But, for all intents and purposes, your marriage to him is over?” Andrew asked pointedly.

Hermione looked up, surprised at his question. On the other side of the door, Harry and Ron exchanged a look. This was the question they’d all been waiting for.

Hermione looked at Andrew and thought seriously about how to respond to this question. The last thing she ever wanted to do was hurt Andrew. He had been quite good to her. He adored her. And she cared a great deal about him.

“Yes,” she said, looking away from Andrew. “It’s over, Andrew.”

“I guess if we’re being totally honest,” Andrew said a few moments later. “I should tell you what really brought me to London. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the photographs. He handed them to Hermione who took them with shaking hands.

As she looked at each photo, she felt her stomach sink. There she and Harry were in Hyde Park, that day they’d had their picnic.

“How did you get these?” she asked, thumbing through the photos.

Andrew sighed. “My father hired someone to follow you while you were in London.”

Hermione felt anger rise up in her. She’d known that Joe Keegan wasn’t her biggest fan, but she honestly never dreamed in a million years that he’d sink this low.

“Your father hired someone to follow me and take pictures?” she asked, shoving the photos back at Andrew.

“Don’t get angry, Hermione,” Andrew said, putting the photos back in his pocket. “I was just as upset as you were when he gave them to me. I had no idea he was doing something like this. But, when I saw those photos, I saw the look in your eyes. I was going to tell Dad that this guy had to be some old friend or a cousin, but I couldn’t honestly say that because I saw how you looked at him in those pictures. I saw how he looked at you.”

“It was just an innocent picnic,” Hermione answered quickly.

“Innocent?” Andrew asked. “Why can’t you look me in the eye when you say that? Where have you been staying since you’ve been here?”

Hermione’s cheeks flushed.

“Uh-huh,” Andrew said, shaking his head. “I knew that, too. Well, that pretty much answers that for me.”

Hermione opened her mouth to explain, but no words came. She’d known what kind of trouble it would be if she stayed at Harry’s and yet, she’d done it anyway.

“Well,” Andrew said quietly. “Well, let’s just settle this once and for all.”

He took Hermione firmly by the hand and led her toward the kitchen door. He looked back at her before pushing the swinging door and to both their surprise, a loud thud sound followed as if something had fallen to the floor.

The door opened and Ron was revealed to be sprawled out on the floor. He looked sheepishly up at them and gingerly rubbed his forehead, which now bore a red welt.

“Ron!” Hermione exclaimed. “Were you listening at the door?”

“No,” Ron said, getting to his feet. “I was about to come in and see what was taking you and Andrew so long.”

If it had been any other time, Hermione would have found it quite humorous, but she didn’t feel like laughing and even if she did, now wasn’t the time and this wasn’t the place.

Hermione looked around the room. It was empty, save for Hermione, Ron, and Andrew.

“Where’s Harry?” she asked Ron.

“He, um, had to leave,” Ron said quietly.

“What for?” she asked. “He didn’t hear what we were saying in there, did he?”

“He might have,” Ron said, avoiding looking at Hermione.

“Oh no!” Hermione said morosely. “Ron, where did Harry go?”

“He had an appointment at Flourish & Blotts,” Ron replied. “Something important, he said.”

“Andrew, I’m really sorry about this, but I have to go find Harry,” she said, making her way toward the door. Andrew though was right behind her.

“What?” she asked.

“You don’t have to follow him,” Andrew said with a grin. “With any luck, he’s probably gone to sign the papers.”

“Andrew, you don’t understand,” Hermione said. “I’ll come and talk to you later this evening. Just let me go and do this, please. I have to talk to Harry about something. I can’t leave and have him think----well, I just have to see him.”

Without waiting for his response, Hermione took off out the door and when she was safe out of sight, she ducked behind an alley and apparated into Diagon Alley.

Since returning to London, she hadn’t ventured into many of her favorite places. There hadn’t been time. As she set foot into one of her favorite stores in the universe, she couldn’t help but be hit by a wave of memories. She could still remember how Harry and Ron used to have to drag her out of the bookshop each year. She used to wonder what it would be like to work in a place like this. One night when she and Harry were talking in bed, she’d told him how she’d once thought she’d own her own bookshop one day and it’d be just as good, if not better, than Flourish & Blotts.

Someday when she wasn’t trying to find her husband, she promised she’d come back into the store and see what new books were available. The shop wasn’t as busy as it usually was, as it was summer vacation and the Hogwarts’ students wouldn’t be back to buy supplies until August. She looked around shelves and upstairs for Harry and didn’t see him. Maybe Ron had got it wrong. Maybe Harry was in Quality Quidditch Supplies, instead.

She was about to walk out of the shop when she heard Harry’s voice. She ducked quickly behind a bookshelf.

“Yes, sir,” he was saying. “I should have the final deposit to you this afternoon.”

“It’s a wonderful investment, Mr. Potter,” an older gentleman dressed in brown robes was saying. “You’re just the type of person to take an enterprise like this and run with it. I can’t think of anyone else I’d like to leave my shop to than you, Mr. Potter.”

Harry grinned and shook hands with the man.

“I’ll bring by the final paperwork when we meet tomorrow,” the man was saying to Harry.

“Sounds good,” Harry said. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

Hermione stood back and watched as Harry walked toward her. He didn’t see her as he walked out of the shop. She couldn’t just let him walk away though. They needed to talk.

“Harry,” she said, calling to him when she’d stepped just outside the shop.

He turned around.

“Hermione?”

She closed the gap between them quickly.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I should ask the same of you,” he said pointedly. “I told Ron not to tell you where I’d gone.”

“What are you doing at Flourish & Blotts, Harry?” Hermione asked, stepping closer to him.

“I just had a meeting,” he said evasively. “So, when do you and Andrew leave?”

“What?” She asked, taken aback at both the question and the tone of his voice.

“I heard what you told Andrew, alright? I heard you tell him our marriage was over. “

“Harry-“

“No, need to explain,” he cut her off. “I may not be as smart as you, but I heard what you said loud and clear. It finally sunk in for me, okay.”

He laughed. “I actually thought I had a chance to get you back until today. I really did. I guess I was a fool all along, huh?”

He pulled something from his pocket and Hermione could see it was the thick envelope she’d handed over to him the day she’d arrived back in London.

“Here,” he said, handing her the envelope. “You’ll see that I have signed each copy. Once they’re processed, just send me a copy, okay?” She took it with shaking hands and stared at it.

He gave a weak smile and turned on his heel to walk away. Hermione stared after him. Coming to her senses, she ran to catch up to him.

“This is it?” she asked, holding up the envelope.

“I guess so,” Harry said with a shrug. “It’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”

Hermione didn’t answer.

“Or do you even know what that is, anymore?” he asked her.

“Why are you being like this?” she asked quietly.

“I’ve been waiting for you to come back for two years, Hermione,” he said as he absently ran a hand nervously through his hair. “I put my life on hold thinking that if I did this or if I tried this, you would come back. And then to my utter amazement, you show up out of the blue and fall right back into my life. So, I thought I’d throw on the old charm and show you how things used to be and maybe you’d want to stay with me.”

“Harry…”

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I heard you in the kitchen, Hermione. You told Andrew that you were married before, but you left it at that, didn’t you? You didn’t tell him about the baby? You didn’t tell him about who you really are? Are you ashamed of it?”

“No,” she said shaking her head. “Of course, I’m not ashamed of it. But, you should just put yourself in his place, Harry. He’d just found out we were married! If he found out that I was a witch and all that other stuff; that would have been way too much for him to handle at one time.”

“All that other stuff, as you call it, made you who you are, Hermione,” he said with a rueful laugh. “It’s who you are. It’s what made me fall in love with you. This person who’s engaged to Andrew Keegan or whatever his name is…I don’t know her.”

“I’m the same person I always was,” Hermione said defensively.

He shook his head. “No, you’re not. And that’s okay. You were right before when you said we weren’t children anymore. It’s time we grew up. There you are. I finally see things the way you wanted. Happy now?”

Hermione gaped at him, her mouth open.

“Have a nice life, Hermione,” Harry said, leaning in and kissing her quickly on the cheek. “I hope you and Andrew will be very happy together.”

With that, he turned and walked away from her. She wanted to call after him; to tell him that he was wrong.

Tears fell silently down her cheeks as she watched him disappear into the distance. She finally had what she thought she’d wanted. He’d signed the papers. Why wasn’t she happy about it?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hermione returned home to her parents’ house a few minutes later. Karen and Ron sat in the sitting room with her, waiting for her to tell them what had happened. She hadn’t said much upon return. She’d asked where Andrew was and Karen explained that he’d gone back to his hotel. He’d left the hotel name and number for her.

She nodded. She didn’t want to see him now.

And although she felt as if she didn’t deserve Ron and her mother’s sympathy, she was glad that they were both there to provide a shoulder to cry on.

Lord knows I need it.

“I wish someone would tell me what to do,” Hermione finally said, setting her tea cup down on the coffee table. She gave Ron a half-hearted smile. “You don’t have to stay here with me. You must have loads of wedding plans to finalize.”

“Not really,” Ron said, shaking his head. “I’m the groom, remember? All I have to do is show up and look handsome. I’ve already got the second part down. Just have to show up on time and there you are.”

Hermione couldn’t help laughing. “How can you do that?”

“What?” Ron asked.

“Make me laugh at the worst parts of my life?” she replied, with a rueful smile.

Ron grinned at her. “It’s a gift, really. I didn’t ask for it, I just ended up with it. I don’t question it.”

Hermione patted his shoulder. “You’re better to me than I deserve, Ron.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Ron said sympathetically. “You’ve gone through a lot these past few years.”

“You have, sweetheart,” Karen chimed in.

Hermione shook her head sadly. “It’s no excuse for what I did and you know it.”

She ran a hand through her hair and sank lower into the sofa.

”Hermione,” Ron said quietly. “You know for two very smart people, you and Harry are acting like idiots.”

Hermione looked over at her friend, surprised at his words.

“For once, I’m not joking,” Ron said his expression quite serious. “You still love each other. And yet, you’re both apart.”

“It’s not that simple, Ron,” Hermione replied. She leaned forward and picked up her cup of tea and took a sip. It wasn’t even warm now, but she didn’t care.

“Bloody hell, it’s not,” Ron said. “You need to talk to each other. Set this straight. Tell that Andrew bloke that he’s out of luck.”

“Andrew means a great deal to me,” Hermione replied.

“Meaning a great deal to and loving are quite two different things,” Karen pointed out. Hermione looked at her mother in surprise. “What?”

“You said that Andrew meant a great deal to you?” Karen asked. Hermione nodded. “Do you love him?”

“Mum, we’re getting married,” Hermione said, holding up her left hand and pointing to her engagement ring. “I’m wearing his ring!”

“I didn’t ask you about all that,” Karen said pointedly. “I asked you if you loved him.”

Hermione looked thoughtful as she pondered herm other’s question.

“I don’t know,” Hermione said honestly.

“Maybe it’s time you found out,” Karen said, giving her a daughter a pat on the hand. “Go talk to Andrew and see how you feel.”

“Well, go sort it out,” Ron said. “Do you know what hotel he’s staying at?”

Hermione nodded. “But, I don’t know what to say to him.”

“Oh that’s rubbish and you know it. You always know what to say,” Ron said, giving her a hand to help her up. “Even when you don’t, you have been known to drone on for hours at a time like you know exactly what you’re talking about.”

Hermione stared at him. “Are you saying I’m long-winded?”

“Among other things,” he said, taking her hand and leading her to the door. “You go on and sort this out. And for the love of Merlin sort it out before Saturday. I don’t want my best man and matron of honor shooting daggers at each other over Luna and I, okay?”

“Ron,” Hermione said hesitantly. “This might not be the best time. I should give him some time to cool off and…”

She saw the stern expression on his face.

“Okay,” she said resolutely. “I was never a procrastinator, was I?”

“There’s an inner procrastinator in you, Hermione,” Ron said, opening the door. “She’s begging to come out…at a later date, mind you.”

Hermione laughed and kissed her friend on the cheek. “You are one in a million, Ron Weasley.”

“Remember that next time you say I have ‘the emotional range of a teaspoon’,” he called to her. He watched her walk down the sidewalk and smiled.

Karen beamed at Ron. “You know, I underestimated you, Ron.”

Ron raised an eyebrow at her. “People always say that to me. I’ve got a lot more going on upstairs than most people think. I don’t always think about food and Quidditch, you know.”

Karen laughed as she closed the door behind her.

“Dr. Granger?” Ron asked sheepishly.

“Yeah?”

“Do you still have those oatmeal raisin cookies?” Ron asked with a charming smile.

”Follow me,” she said, leading him toward the kitchen. “You deserve a reward for how good you did today.”

He beamed back at her.

As Ron sat at the counter eating his cookies, he couldn’t help wondering how it would go with the whole triangle of Harry/Hermione/Andrew. He knew how hurt Harry was when he heard Hermione tell Andrew her marriage was over. It was going to take a miracle to get things right again, but Harry and Hermione always thrived under pressure. He hoped that this case would be no different. And he might be biased, but his money was riding on Harry and Hermione. Andrew didn’t stand a chance.

Author’s note: Sorry for the delay…I’ve got a good excuse…terrible cold had me down and out for awhile…but I am feeling much better and I hope you like this chapter…It was a lot easier to write and contains some flashback scenes from my previous story “Circle of Friends” and from the first two chapters of this story.

Please read and review, guys!

Chapter Fourteen

Smoke Gets in Your Eyes

“They asked me how I knew
My true love was true
I of course replied
"Something here inside
Cannot be denied"

They said someday you'll find
All who love are blind
When your heart's on fire
You must realize
Smoke gets in your eyes”

(The Platters, “Smoke Gets in Your Eyes”)

After enjoying a quick cup of tea and cookies with Hermione’s mum, Ron decided it might be a good idea to check in with Harry. He apparated straightaway to just outside the cottage and knocked on the door.

“Potter,” Ron called, trying to look inside the window, but finding that the curtains were closed. He heard Sam’s plaintive barking and heard the dog running toward the door. He tried knocking again and when no one answered, decided to just let himself in…if the door was unlocked. To his relief, it was. That relief was quickly squelched when Sam bounded for Ron and nearly knocked him to the ground.

“You are possessed,” Ron said, semi-angrily to the dog as he regained his balance. “They can tell me I’m crazy, but I will never believe anything to the contrary.”

Sam sniffed once and then bounded back for the couch in the sitting room.

“Harry?” Ron called out.

“In here,” Harry’s familiar voice called to him from the kitchen.

Ron nodded and looked as menacingly as he could at Sam, who was perched comfortably on the couch. Sam, unconvinced by Ron’s tough guy act, simply growled, which caused Ron to jump and stick his tongue out at the dog.

“Very mature, Ron,” Harry said, watching the scene unfold.

“Your dog is possessed, Harry.”

“I don’t know why you say that when you are the only person he acts like that around.”

“I can’t help it if your dog hasn’t got any taste,” Ron retorted with a smile.

Harry gave a half-hearted laugh and breezed past Ron and sat down on the sofa. Sam moved a little to the left so he could rest his head on Harry’s lap.

“So,” Harry said. “What brings you here?”

Ron took a seat in the armchair and sat back. “Well, I just came from Hermione’s parents’ house.”

Harry nodded and tried to act as if he didn’t care, but Ron wasn’t buying that for a minute.

“She said you signed the papers,” Ron said quietly.

“Yeah,” Harry said. “It was past time, wasn’t it? I kept her waiting long enough. So, she’s got what she wanted.”

“You don’t believe that,” Ron said, looking at his friend, who was trying to look everywhere else but at Ron. “Unbelievable! The two of you are going to send me to St. Mungo’s before my time. I can’t do this, Harry.”

“Can’t do what?”

“I feel like a kid with divorced parents,” Ron said as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. “What am I going to do…split my time between the two of you? Are you going to fight me for custody? Because, I will tell you this right now, I’m not going to chose between you. And I shouldn’t bloody have to!”

Harry looked at his friend finally. “Don’t be so dramatic, Ron.”

“I’m not being dramatic,” Ron said. He thought for a moment. “Okay, I am being dramatic, but if you can be stupid, I can be dramatic. So, you signed the papers? That’s it.”

Harry nodded. “Yeah, that’s it.”

To Harry’s surprise, Ron started to laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Harry asked angrily.

“You, that’s what!” Ron retorted. “The great boy-who-lived has given up, huh? Going to let the girl get away without a fight?”

“This isn’t a movie, Ron,” Harry said. “This is my life. And why should I keep holding on to someone who doesn’t want me and can’t wait to start her life over with someone else?”

“Because you still love her and she still loves you,” Ron replied. “That’s why. The two of you have already pissed away two years being stubborn and grieving the loss of your child alone, when all you really needed to do was talk to each other.”

“We’ve talked enough,” Harry said quietly. “She’s made her decision, Ron. I can’t force her to come back to me. She loves this guy Andrew.”

“No, she doesn’t,” Ron said firmly.

“Yes, she does.”

“No, she doesn’t.”

“Yes, she does.”

“Oh, for the love of Merlin, Harry! She doesn’t! You didn’t see the look on her face when she came back to her parents’ house with those papers. She looked as if the wind had been knocked out of her. Ever since I’ve known her, I’ve only seen her get like that when you were in danger or the two of you had a terrible row. She loves you, mate.”

“And you know that can’t be bad?” Harry finished, trying to lighten the mood with Beatles’ lyrics, but his own smile faded when he saw the look on Ron’s face.

“That’s right!” Ron said happily. “And you know that can’t be bad!”

Harry shooed Sam away and got to his feet.

“It’s over, Ron,” Harry said.

“What were you doing at Flourish & Blotts this afternoon?” Ron asked. “Is that the big secret?”

Harry looked away from Ron.

“I bought it,” Harry said simply.

“You bought a bookshop?”

Harry nodded. “I heard it was for sale and I inquired about it months ago and I’ve been working on a deal and saving up money to buy it. Everything came together and when she came back, it just seemed like everything was falling into place. At first, I thought I was doing it just for her, but I think it’s going to be good for me, too. I have some great ideas and I want to try and modernize it a bit without it losing the quality that has made it what it is. I was thinking of putting a coffee shop in there and maybe having some bands come and play on weekends.”

Harry stopped talking and looked over at Ron, who was grinning at him.

“I know it sounds stupid,” Harry said sheepishly.

“No,” Ron said, shaking his head. “It sounds brilliant.”

“Well, it better be,” Harry said with a wistful smile. “It’ll be my life for the next few years.”

“Did you tell her any of this?” Ron asked probingly.

Harry shook his head. “I wanted to. The timing never seemed right…and after what I heard in the kitchen this afternoon, I don’t think I need to worry about it, do you?”

Ron didn’t say anything. For a moment, they both stood there in silence.

Harry turned suddenly and smiled at his friend. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“What?”

“Your stag night, remember?” Harry asked, trying to change the subject. “You do remember that Luna wasn’t about to let you have a stag weekend so Fred and George and that git Malfoy were going to take you out for a couple of fire whiskeys at The Hog’s Head.”

“It wasn’t a matter of Luna not ‘letting me’ have a stag weekend,” Ron said defensively. “She and I both agreed that we were too old for childish things like that.”

“Yeah,” Harry said. “That and the fact that she said if she caught you within two feet of a stripper, she was going to hex you so badly that your great-grandchildren would be talking about it.”

Ron’s cheeks reddened a little. “Well, that sort of sealed the deal. It’s good to be a little afraid of your girlfriend, isn’t it? I mean, it keeps you on your toes, right?”

“Whatever you say,” Harry said, grabbing his jacket from the sofa. “Let’s go and let you enjoy one of your last nights as a free man and my first night as one.”

Ron nodded and followed his friend toward the door.

“More like your last night of being a complete idiot when it comes to your wife,” Ron said pointedly.

“I’ll make a deal with you, Ron,” Harry said. “If by some odd chance that Fred and George have scheduled a stripper in this evening’s events, I will not say a word to Luna if you don’t mention Hermione the rest of the evening, okay?”

“Okay,” Ron said, trying to look as serious as possible. As he closed the door behind them, Ron couldn’t help thinking that he had no intention of keeping that promise to Harry.

*************

Hermione stood out side Andrew’s hotel room, contemplating either running as fast as she could in the other direction or knocking on the door.

She took a deep breath and told herself that she’d done enough running away. It was now time to confront her problem, so to speak. She knocked on the door.

Andrew opened it a few moments later and kissed her on the cheek.

“I’m glad you called,” he said, ushering her inside. “I was just on the phone with the airline. We can fly back to New York on the redeye. I booked two seats.”

Hermione nodded as she sat down on one of the double beds.

“You didn’t bring your things?” he asked.

“Hmmm?”

“Your luggage?” he repeated. “You didn’t bring it?”

“Um, no,” she said, trying to stay focused. “I didn’t think you wanted to leave straightaway.”

“No point sticking around here, right?” he asked, with a smile. “We can just mail those papers to your husband. If all else fails, we’ll take him to court, Hermione. He can’t keep refusing to sign.”

Hermione looked up at Andrew. “He did sign the papers.”

“What?” he asked, taking a seat beside her on the bed.

Hermione pulled the envelope out of her purse and handed it over to Andrew. He looked at her and took the envelope and quickly opened it and looked down at the papers. He leafed through them quickly and stared back at her, a look of surprise on his face.

“What?” she asked softly.

“Well, he signed them,” Andrew said, handing the papers back to her. “But, you haven’t.”

“Don’t be silly,” Hermione said, taking them and leafing through them herself and seeing that she indeed hadn’t signed the papers.

“No worries,” Andrew said, leaning back and reaching over toward the bedside table to get a pen. “Here you go. Sign them now. We can file them when we get back to the states and I have a few connections and I’ll see that they’re processed right away. No one ever has to know that you were married.”

Hermione sat, frozen in place. Her hands were shaking as she looked down at the divorce papers. Andrew held the pen out to her. She forced herself to look at him, and she knew she should take the pen and sign her name. But, she just couldn’t do it.

As she sat there, a flood of memories came over her.

Their first date…

They walked out of the restaurant and toward the movie theatre in silence. They were both enjoying each other’s company so much that words weren’t really necessary. Harry had taken her hand as they walked and she hadn’t been surprised by it at all. It had just felt right, much as most of the evening had.

Hermione didn’t even notice that they’d reached the cinema. She smiled at Harry as he pulled her toward the ticket booth.

“Two for Breakfast at Tiffany’s,” Harry said, handing over some money to the ticket taker.

Hermione gasped. “That’s one of my favorite movies!”

“I know,” Harry said. “You know it’s not like I just picked you up and this is our first date. I’ve been your friend for six years, Hermione. I would hope I would know things about you by now.”

Harry let go of her hand to open the door to the theatre, but Hermione stopped in her tracks.

“What?” Harry asked, looking at her.

“Um, you consider this a date?” she asked him uncertainly.

“Yes,” he said nervously. “I mean, I asked you out and you said yes and we’ve been to dinner and now we’re going to see a movie. I mean, this is sort of a date when you think about it.”

He noticed her expression and quickly stammered, “I mean, you don’t have to call it that unless you really want to and then it wouldn’t matter because you know that’s the problem with everything these days, people having to put labels on everything.”

“Harry!” Hermione interrupted, smiling at him. He was adorable when he was uncomfortable.

“Yes?” he asked her.

“If you wanted to call this a date, I wouldn’t mind,” she said softly. “In fact, I’d like that a lot.”

He smiled at her.

“Then, it’s a date,” he said, ushering her through the doors.

“Definitely,” Hermione said, smiling at him. “Besides, guys don’t usually go to ‘chick flicks’ without having an ulterior motive.”

“Oh, so you think I’ve planned this whole thing to seduce you, do you?” Harry asked her with a look of indignation.

“Yes, well, you’re plans have been foiled, Potter,” Hermione said, smiling at him. “I’ve seen right through you.”

“Well, I guess my skills are going to need some work,” Harry said, as they walked toward the theatre their movie was showing in.

“You have skills now?” she asked him, teasingly. “I had no idea.”

“Yes, well,” Harry said, laughing. “They’re still in the developmental stage, but I have them nonetheless.”

Hermione giggled as she and Harry found seats in the middle of the theatre.

She couldn’t believe this was happening. She was on a date. She was on a date with her best friend, to top that all off. Few things in life were perfect, she thought, but this was about as close to perfect as you could get.

***********

Their first kiss…

“I like you, Hermione,” he said nervously. “I’ve liked you for a long time.”

”We’re best friends,” she said, avoiding his gaze. “I would hope that you liked me.”

“No,” he said. “Please look at me.”

She did and he felt her hand shaking somewhat in his.

“I don’t just want to be your friend, Hermione,” he said. “I want us to be more.”

She didn’t say anything. She just stared back at him.

“I’ve not been able to think of anything else but you for a long time,” he said. “I know it sounds a little cheesy, and maybe it is, but it’s the truth. I want to be more than just your friend.”

She still didn’t speak a word.

“You’re killing me here,” he said, with a slight laugh. “Now, would be a great time for you to say something.”

She didn’t think she could speak. She looked into his green eyes and felt herself leaning in to him. Their faces were inches apart. She closed her eyes and felt his lips brush against hers. She felt his arm rest on her waist as he pulled her closer and he deepened the kiss.

“Does that answer your question?” she asked breathlessly when they finally pulled away from each other.

He nodded.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he said. She smiled and rested her head on his shoulder as they both looked at the fire, feeling content and happy.

“I’ve wanted you to do that for a long time,” she said happily.

*************

Harry’s Proposal…

They’d been outside for nearly 20 minutes and Harry hadn’t said anything. They’d sat at the picnic table in the backyard. Hermione had told him all about her disastrous conversation with her parents, but he’d only contributed a “uh-huh” and a “yeah” when prompted. His mind was no doubt elsewhere. And if she wasn’t mistaken, he was quite nervous about something. Every few seconds, he looked over at her as if he was about to say something, but he would stop short before saying what he so obviously wanted to say.

“Harry?” she asked him, as he paced in front of her for what seemed like the thousandth time.

“Hmmm?” he asked, distractedly.

“What are you on about?” she asked him, concerned.

He stood still and looked at her.

She put a hand to her mouth. “Oh! It’s something bad, isn’t it? What is it? Haven’t we had enough bad news for a lifetime! Please tell me it’s not anything bad!”

He stepped toward her and put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“It’s not bad,” he said reassuringly. “At least, I don’t think it is. I’m kind of hoping that you won’t either.”

She looked at him, her eyebrows raised. “Okay. What is it?”

“I’ve thought about this for a long time,” he said, running a hand nervously through his hair. “I’ve even practiced what I’d say to you in front of the mirror. Crazy, I know!”

She smiled. She knew all too well about practicing speeches in front of a mirror.

“I just wanted everything to be perfect and I wanted to say all the right things,” he said. “And then I figured what my problem was. You can think about something all you want to, but you aren’t really going to know what you’d do or say until that moment comes and you have to do it.”

He took her hands in his and she smiled warmly at him, willing him to go on.

“Just say it,” she said, stroking his hand with her thumb. “You can tell me anything, you know that, right?”

He nodded. With a deep breath and a smile, he looked into her eyes and he knew what he wanted to say. And he knew that this was the right time to say it.

“We’ve been through so much together,” he began. “You’ve been by my side through everything---good and bad. You’ve been the one constant in my life. When I’ve felt lost or like the whole world was falling apart, I could look to you for comfort and you’d always be there. I don’t know what I did to deserve it, but I’m grateful to whatever brought us together.”

Tears shone in her eyes as he spoke.

“And I know we’re young and I know people will tell us we’re crazy,” he said, with a slight laugh. “But, if you’ll have me, Hermione Jane Granger…” his voice trailed off and he let go of her hands. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. Hermione felt her hands shaking as he got down on one knee. He opened up the box and she saw the most stunning sterling silver diamond engagement ring.

“If you’ll have me,” he repeated, looking up at her. “I want to marry you. Will you marry me?”

She didn’t know what to say. She was stunned, shocked, amazed, and touched all at the same time.

“What do you say?” he prompted, smiling up at her hopefully. “Yes, no, get lost? What will it be?”

She gave a laugh as she smiled back at him, through her tears.

“You want to marry me?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“No,” he said. “Professor McGonagall! Of course, you!”

She chuckled.

“Well?” he asked her.

“This is a bit sudden, Harry,” she said thoughtfully. “We’re only 17.”

”I’ll be 18 in July and so will you in September,” he said.

She grinned.

He got to his feet and dusted the dirt from his trousers.

“You don’t have to answer now,” he said, a touch of disappointment evident in his voice. “Take all the time you need to decide. I don’t want to pressure you. This is a big step.”

She nodded.

“We’d better, um, get back inside,” he said calmly. This wasn’t how he’d expected it to go. Maybe Ron was right, he should have waited.

Hermione was shaking her head at him.

“What?” he asked her, confused.

“Harry!” she said, getting off the picnic table and walking over to him.

”I don’t need time to think about it,” she said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“You don’t?”

She shook her head.

“I’ll marry you,” she said, her eyes twinkling at him.

“You will?”

Again, she nodded. “Unless you’ve changed your mind?”

This time, he shook his head vehemently. “Not a chance.”

He wrapped her up in his arms and twirled her around, and she laughed with delight.

When he finally put her down, she wrapped her arms around him and they kissed, sort of putting a seal on the deal. When he broke the kiss, he pulled the ring from the box and put it on Hermione’s trembling finger.

“That’s just as it should be,” Harry said, giving her a kiss.

“It’s perfect,” Hermione agreed. “Absolutely perfect.”

***********

Their wedding night…

Harry stood at the end of the walkway in front of the minister, who smiled at him as they waited for Hermione and Ron. She had found a bouquet of tropical flowers and she held them with trembling hands. Ron had linked his arm with hers as they walked down the walkway toward Harry.

The ceremony was short and simple and both Harry and Hermione held each other’s glances as they listened to the words the minister said and as they repeated their vows to each other.

Hermione managed not to cry until Harry slipped the wedding band onto her finger.

******

Honeymoon…

She was wearing an ivory lace, chemise nightgown with spaghetti straps. The ocean breeze had frizzed her hair up some and she’d had to apply a liberal amount of Sleek-Easy on her hair to tame it back into ringlets. He was staring at her and she wondered if something was wrong. Had she smeared toothpaste on her chin by mistake? Had she walked out of the bathroom with loo roll trailing behind her? She touched her face and then looked as discretely as she could muster behind her to see to her relief that she hadn’t done anything embarrassing. Yet, he still looked at her, his mouth agape.

“Is, um, something wrong?” she asked with a nervous laugh.

He shook his head and a smile played at his lips.

“Why are you looking at me like that, then?” she asked concerned.

“Uh, um, well, you…really look…,” he stammered. “I mean, you…wow.”

She blushed and couldn’t help giggling.

“So you like this?” she asked, a wave of relief coming over her.

He could only nod as he crossed the room and put his hands on both sides of her face and within seconds they were kissing. Hermione felt the familiar toe-tingling, electric feeling that came over her whenever he kissed her or touched her like this. He was the only person who made her feel like that. He broke away from her to catch his breath and then covered her lips with his again, deepening the kiss. Hermione wrapped her arms around him and she could feel his hands wandering up her back and then back down her waist and around her hips. He pressed her closer to him as he stepped backward toward the bed.

They lay back on the bed as Hermione began to unbutton his shirt, never breaking the kiss. He pulled the straps of her nightgown down from her shoulder and planted sweet kisses along her neck and on her shoulder. She shivered as he did so, enjoying the feelings he was arousing in her. He pulled away from her and looked down at her, taking her in, seemingly looking at her as if he was trying to mentally capture this moment in his mind. In all her life, she’d wanted many things---good marks in school, a number of books, peace in the wizarding world, elf rights. Those things were important, of course, but they paled in comparison to how much she wanted this man. As she stared up at him, she could see that he wanted her just as much as she wanted him.

She hesitantly pushed him away so she could sit up on the bed. She was a little scared and unsure of what she was about to do. She’d never been completely naked in front of him before. Looking into his eyes for encouragement, she slowly lifted her nightgown over her head and tossed it to the floor. Instinctively, her hands went to cover herself, but Harry stopped her and gently took her hands in his.

“You look absolutely beautiful, Hermione,” he whispered.

She was about to make a sarcastic remark about him having to say something like that now that they were married, but as she looked into his eyes, she could tell that he meant every word. This was how he truly felt. She gave him a shy smile as she lay back down onto the bed and he looked down at her, looking for her assurance that what they were about to do was what she wanted. He wanted her to know that he would understand if she wasn’t ready to take this step.

She looked up at him, tears shining in her eyes, and nodded. She wrapped her fingers around his belt loops and pulled him down on top of her.

*****

“Hermione?”

Hermione looked up, dazed. Andrew was still holding the pen out to her.

“Earth to Hermione,” he said, teasingly. “Where’d you go just now?”

She dropped the papers on her lap and looked at him, as if seeing him for the first time that evening.

“I don’t know,” she said, softly.

“Hermione?” he asked gently. “Just sign the papers, sweetheart.”

She took the pen and got to her feet. Andrew’s eyes were trained on her as she leaned over the desk and she stared blankly at the line where her signature was to go. If she signed these papers, it was over. Did she want that? Is that what she truly wanted?

She turned to look at Andrew and she thought about how unfair she’d been to him. He’d been the perfect guy. He’d been attentive, caring, funny and an all-around good man. Everyone had said she’d been lucky to find him and told her she’d be crazy to let him go. But, if she was being honest, she’d always held something back with him. She hadn’t been able to give him and their relationship all that it needed to survive and to thrive.

For all his good qualities, there was one thing Andrew Keegan could never be and it wasn’t his fault. He could never be Harry. No one could ever be what Harry was to her. It didn’t matter how much distance she put between them; that would never change.

Tears fells down her cheeks as she dropped the pen on the desk.

“I can’t,” she whispered.

“What?” Andrew asked, getting to his feet.

“Andrew,” she said quietly. “I’m really sorry. But I can’t sign these papers.”

Andrew gave her a sympathetic smile. “You’re just confused, Mione. You came back here and you got all drawn into the past and you think that what you had is going to be better than what your future will hold, but it’s just memories, Hermione. You can build new ones with me. Take a chance.”

Hermione took his hand. “It’s not just memories, Andrew. What I felt for him never went away.”

Andrew’s shoulders fell and he looked away from her.

“I haven’t been fair to you,” she said. “And I should have known better. You don’t want to marry me, Andrew. Not really. You deserve to marry someone who is going to love you with all her heart and soul. That person isn’t me.”

She brushed a tear from her cheek.

“I gave my heart away when I was 11 years old,” she said softly. “My whole heart. And I never really got it back.”

She raised her left hand and pulled the engagement ring from her finger.

“I’m so sorry, Andrew,” she said, her voice breaking as she put the ring on the desk.

She wanted to say so much more to him, but she didn’t know how to begin or what would be the right thing to say.

She took a look at him before walking over to the bed and picking up her purse. She stuffed the papers into her purse and was almost at the door when he called to her.

“Hermione?”

She turned around.

“The only thing I ever wanted was for you to be happy,” he said, tears shining in his eyes.

“I want that for you, too,” she said. “You deserve that, Andrew.”

He walked over to her and to her surprise, gave her a hug. She wrapped her arms around him and they stood there for a few moments; a sort of understanding passing between them.

“Take care of yourself, Hermione,” Andrew said, when they finally let go of each other.

Hermione nodded. “Goodbye, Andrew.”

“Goodbye, Hermione,” he said with a slight smile. He opened the door and she walked past him. She was nearly to the elevator when she heard the door close firmly behind him.

That had been one of the hardest things she’d ever done in her life. Although she didn’t think she deserved a second chance with Harry, she hoped that he’d at least listen to her.

*******

He wasn’t at the cottage. She didn’t find him at Ron’s. Her mother hadn’t heard from him since this afternoon. She was about at the end of her rope when Luna called unexpectedly to check up on her.

After giving Luna a brief, condensed version of the last 24 hours, Hermione asked if Luna had any idea where Harry might be.

Luna said that the lads were taking Ron out for one last night of drinking and debauchery and would probably be in Hogsmeade. Before Hermione could even hang up the phone, Luna had apparated to Hermione’s parents’ house.

“You really don’t have to go with me,” Hermione assured her.

Luna smiled. “Yes, I do. You’re my friend and I have to support you in your time of need.”

“And you want to make sure Ron isn’t knee deep in some exotic dancer named Candy or Lola,” Hermione said, teasingly.

“Well, that too, but mainly for the supportive friend thing,” Luna said, grabbing Hermione’s hand and leading her out the door.

*****

They arrived in Hogsmeade a few minutes later and to their surprise, the pub was a Weasley-free zone. The bartender said that the group had been in here earlier, but had left an hour ago, talking about playing Quidditch. Luna had grilled the bartender about whether or not dancing girls or lap dances were part of the evening’s festivities and the bartender had told her that he could neither confirm nor deny the appearance of dancers.

Luna silently fumed as Hermione led her friend out of the dark, smoky pub.

“Where do you think they could have gone?” Hermione asked helplessly, looking around the village streets.

“If he was doing anything with anyone, I swear I’ll kill him,” Luna was saying. “And he had the nerve to promise me he wouldn’t do anything! I should have known better!”

“Luna,” Hermione said. “Let’s think. Where would the boys go to play Quidditch?”

“The Burrow?” Luna suggested.

“Maybe,” Hermione said, her brow furrowed in thought.

“I know where they went!” Luna said suddenly. “They probably took Ron to the Chudley pitch. They haven’t had a game in a fortnight and I’m sure that would be the perfect place!”

Hermione grinned. “I think you’re probably right. Well, what do you say, Miss Lovegood?”

“Right behind you, Miss Granger,” Luna said, linking elbows with her friend. “Let’s go get ‘em.”

Author’s note: Wow, I can’t believe this one is winding down. This might be last chapter…I might post an epilogue…let me know if you guys want one. I always hate to see these come to an end and this one especially. Like most of you, I’m looking forward to the movie and lots of Pumpkin Pie. I hope this will tide you all over until then. Anyways, let me know if you want an epilogue, and I’ll see what I can do. Thanks again to all who have read and reviewed. You have no idea what it meant to me! Name of this chapter comes from one of my favorite songs…every time I hear it, I can’t help but think of H/Hr…and it fits this chapter.

Chapter 15

You’re All I Need to Get By

You're all I need to get by.
Like the sweet morning dew, I took one look at you,
And it was plain to see,
you were my destiny. With my arms open wide,
I threw away my pride
I'll sacrifice for you
Dedicate my life for you
I will go where you lead
Always there in time of need
And when I lose my will
You'll be there to push me up the hill
There's no, no looking back for us
We got love sure 'nough, that's enough
You're all, You're All I need to get by.
I all, you're all I want to strive for and do a little more
All, all the joys under the sun wrapped up into one
You're all, You're all I need to get by.

You're all I need to get by.
Like an eagle protects his nest, for you I'll do my best,
Stand by you like a tree, dare anybody to try and move me
Darling in you I found
Strength where I was torn down
Don't know what's in store but together we can open any door
Just to do what's good for you and inspire you a little higher
I know you can make a man out of a soul that didn't have a goal
Cause we, we got the right foundation and with love and determination
You're all, You're All I need to get by.
I all, you're all I want to strive for and do a little more
All, all the joys under the sun wrapped up into one
You're all, You're all I need to get by.

(Performed by Marvin Gaye & Tammi Terrell)

Hermione and Luna actually heard the lads before they actually saw them. As they approached the front gates to the Chudley Canons pitch, they heard the sound of raucous laughter and the echo of blaring music. The security wizard at the gate looked up with a smile and wink as they approached him.

“Good evening, Miss Lovegood,” he said warmly. Hermione looked at the name badge on his shirt and saw that his name was “Doug”.

Luna exchanged worried looks with Hermione when they heard a loud crackling noise that resembled thunder, but couldn’t have been since the night sky was clear and the weather report hadn’t called for thunderstorms.

“How bad is he?” Luna asked through clenched teeth.

“He was pretty much three sheets to the wind when he arrived,” he said sympathetically.

“Oh! I’m going to kill Fred and George!” Luna said, her features scrunching up in a mixture of anger and frustration. “They promised me they wouldn’t let him get too out of hand! He’s probably pissed beyond belief!”

Hermione stifled a laugh. She walked up beside her friend and put a hand on her shoulder. “Luna? You have met Fred and George, right? They’re not exactly known for keeping their word when a prank is involved.”

Luna looked thoughtful for a moment before bringing her hand to her face and slapping her forehead. “How could I have been so stupid? I should never have trusted them.”

Doug led them toward the pitch and Hermione looked at her friend. “Maybe it’s not as bad as you think it is. My mum always says that nothing is ever as bad as you think it’s going to be.”

Luna stopped abruptly when they finally made it to the pitch. Her mouth dropped in amazement.

“You’re right, Hermione,” Luna said calmly. “It’s not as bad as I thought it was going to be.”

Hermione stood beside her and her own mouth fell open.

“It’s much worse,” Luna said, watching as Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnegan, Neville Longbottom, and Ron were trying and failing to perform spells. When their attempts invariably failed miserably, the boys would collapse in fits of drunken laughter.

Doug patted Luna’s shoulder. “I’ll leave you two to it then.”

Hermione thanked him and watched as he walked back toward the main gate.

She scanned the field for Harry, but he was nowhere to be seen. She looked up at the sky and saw that a few people were flying high about the pitch and she figured Harry would be one of them. She hoped he wasn’t drunk like the others.

Hermione turned her attention back to the ground as Luna was making a beeline for her fiancé. She quickened her step to catch up to her friend, who wore a determined, angry expression.

The other guys saw Luna before Ron did as Ron was sprawled on the grass laughing. Seamus, Neville, and Dean all froze in place at Luna’s arrival. Hermione could see that the boys were having trouble keeping straight faces.

“LUNA!” Ron slurred loudly. “Luna, Luna, Luna. How ya doin’, baby?”

“Don’t you ‘baby’ me, Ronald Weasley!” Luna said looking down at him. She offered her hand to him to help him to his feet, but he only managed to grab everywhere in the air but at her hand. Dean and Neville took this as their cue to help Ron to his feet.

“Just what have you been doing all night?” Luna asked angrily.

Ron opened his mouth to say something, but Luna cut him off.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t want to hear about it. I don’t want to hear about it.”

Ron giggled and looked at Dean and said, “That’s good because the details are a little sketchy to me.”

Luna shook her head. “Your brothers are so going to pay for this.”

“HERMIONE!” Ron exclaimed, noticing her for the first time. “THERE SHE IS! MERMIONE. Do you mind if I call you Mermione?”

He moved to give Hermione a hug and she nearly gagged at the smell of liquor on his breath. “Yes, actually, I would mind if you called me that.”

“Spoilsport,” he said frowning.

“Where’s Harry?” Hermione asked Ron, looking again to the sky.

“I don’t know!” Ron said, laughing again. “Do you know where he is? Hey Mermione! It’s after midnight. Do you know where your Harry is?”

Hermione rolled her eyes.

Neville, the most coherent of the boys, stepped forward. “He’s probably flying. He, Malfoy, Fred, and George took to the sky a few minutes before you got here.”

“He’s not drunk is he?” Hermione asked worried.

“No,” Neville said. “To my knowledge, he only had one drink at the pub.”

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. “Thanks, Neville.”

“Luna,” she said to her friend, who was shaking her head at the state of Ron. “I need to go and see Harry. Are you going to be alright?”

Luna nodded and then turned her attention back to Ron.

Hermione made her way toward the middle of the field and looked skyward. She hoped he would come down soon. He couldn’t stay up there forever.

To her great relief, she saw Fred coming toward the ground.

“Fred!” she exclaimed. “Could you go and get Harry for me, please?”

Fred looked sheepishly at her. “He saw you were down here, Hermione. I don’t think he wants to see you.”

Hermione bit her bottom lip. “He has to see me!”

“He’ll be down in a bit,” Fred said helpfully. “Just wait it out.”

Hermione nodded, but felt quite defeated. He didn’t want to see her.

What did you expect? After the way you treated him, you shouldn’t have expected any less.

Fred dropped his broom to the ground and saw Luna arguing with Ron, who was barely able to stand on his feet.

“Oh!” Fred said with a wicked smile on his face. “I have got to see this.”

Hermione watched as he practically ran toward his younger brother and future sister-in-law. She again looked helplessly at the sky, praying that Harry would come down soon. She paced back and forth, trying to figure out what she was going to say; what she could say to make up for the past two years.

An idea came into her head that terrified her, but the more and more she thought about it, it was the only way. Desperate times called for desperate measures and this was certainly a desperate time.

Well, if Mohammed won’t come to the mountain, the mountain will just have to come to him.

With trembling hands, she bent down and picked up Fred’s broom. The last time she’d been on one of these had been that night when she and Harry made up at Hogwarts after the whole Ginny fiasco. She’d felt better about that then because she’d been with Harry. This would be a solo flight and it terrified her.

She tried to remember those elementary flying lessons from Madame Hooch in first year. Mounting the broom, she felt a pit in her stomach as she took a deep breath and kicked off from the ground. Her first instinct was to close her eyes, but she knew that would be a disaster waiting to happen. She gripped the broomstick tightly and aimed higher.

She willed herself not to look down. She started chanting under her breath, “Don’t look down. Don’t look down. Don’t look down.”

“Granger?” Malfoy’s voice called to her. She didn’t look in his direction for fear that she’d look down by mistake.

“What?” she called back, looking straight ahead.

“What the hell are you doing up here?” he asked. “I thought you’d gone back to the States.”

“Well, you were wrong,” Hermione said, flinching as the wind blew her hair in her face. Reluctantly, she took one hand off the broom to pull her hair back. The broom bucked a bit and she screamed before grabbing hold of it again tightly with both hands.

“Hey! Scarhead!” Malfoy called to Harry, who was flying in their direction. “You’ve got company.”

Harry squinted his eyes not sure if he could really believe what he was seeing. As he got closer, he saw that Hermione was indeed flying on a broom by herself, and she looked absolutely terrified.

“Hermione!” he exclaimed, looking at her in amazement. “What the hell are you doing up here?”

“Will you two quit asking me that!” she retorted. “I need to talk to you, Harry. You wouldn’t come down so I came up here.”

“But you hate to fly!”

“Thank you, Captain Obvious!” Hermione said crossly. “Can we please continue this on the ground?”

“This is romantic,” Malfoy said, winking at Harry. “It’s making me feel all warm and fuzzy and as we all know, I don’t get all warm and fuzzy about anything. In fact, if it’s quite the same to you two, I think I’ll take leave of this so you don’t give me a toothache from all the sweetness.”

“Sod off, Malfoy!” Harry said, watching as Draco flew away from them, laughing maniacally as he did so.

“Sorry about that,” Harry said, flying a little closer to her. “Okay, why don’t we just fly back down to the ground?”

Hermione nodded, but kept her eyes focused straight ahead. She didn’t make any movements.

“Let’s go,” Harry said softly. She had a look of absolute terror on her face.

“I can’t.”

“Okay,” he said, trying to give her a reassuring smile. “I’m going to grab hold of your broomstick and I’m going to bring us down, okay? You won’t have to do anything but sit there and look absolutely scared out of your mind, okay?”

She nodded.

Harry maneuvered his broom close enough to Hermione’s so he could grab hold of it.

”You trust me, right?” he asked her, looking into her eyes. “You know that I’d never let anything happen to you, right?”

Again, she nodded and allowed herself to turn her head slightly so she could face him properly. As she looked into his green eyes, she couldn’t help feeling foolish as to think that she could have ever loved anyone else.

She focused her attention on him as he slowly maneuvered them both toward the ground. Hermione let out a huge breath of relief when she finally felt her feet on solid ground.

“Thank you,” she whispered, as they both dismounted the brooms.

“You’re welcome,” he said earnestly.

There was a silence as Hermione regained her bearings and Harry stared at her.

“Can we talk?” she asked with a hopeful tinge to her voice.

He nodded and led her over to the stands where they both took a seat. In the distance, they could see, but not hear, Luna obviously reading Ron the riot act for his behavior.

“I thought you’d be halfway to America by now,” Harry said quietly.

“Well, I didn’t want to miss Ron and Luna’s wedding,” she said.

Harry nodded. “Why did you come here, though? Did you want to invite me to your wedding? I don’t think Andrew would be too keen on that, would you?”

He gave her a scathing look and got to his feet, walking back toward the field.

“Harry!” she called out to him as she got to her feet. “I can’t get married.”

He turned around at her, nonplussed. “What?”

“There’s not going to be a wedding,” she said, looking at him.

“Why not?” he asked. “You got what you wanted, right? I signed the damn papers. What happened? Did I miss a page or something?”

Hermione shook her head. “You didn’t miss a page, Harry. You signed every single copy.”

“So, what more do you need from me?” he asked. She fidgeted uncomfortably. He grew impatient waiting for her answer and was about to turn around and walk away when she finally spoke.

“You signed the papers,” she said softly. “But, I didn’t.”

Harry stood a few feet away from her, nearly frozen in place.

“After I left you this afternoon, I went over to see Andrew at his hotel,” she explained. “I showed him the papers and he looked through them and he showed me that I hadn’t signed them. So, he hands me a pen and tells me to go ahead and sign. I just found myself looking down at these papers and I just couldn’t do it. I-I couldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“As I was standing there, I just got hit with this wave of memories, Harry,” she continued. “And I asked myself a question. I asked myself if I could imagine my life without you in it.”

“You’ve spent two years of your life without me in it,” he responded.

“That’s not true,” she said, a tear fell down her cheek. “There wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t think of you, Harry. I missed you so much.”

“You sure had a funny way of showing it,” he retorted. “It was your decision to leave.”

“I know that,” she said, looking up at him. “And it was wrong. I didn’t handle things very well after the miscarriage. I made you feel as if it was your fault. I shut you out when you needed me just as much as I needed you.”

“You’re not going to do this to me,” he said, shaking his head. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“You’ve never given up on anything before,” she replied. “I thought I had, but I’m ready to fight for what I want.”

“Do you even know what that is anymore?” he asked her, stepping precariously closer to her.

“I want to be with you,” she said solemnly. “I’ve never wanted anything more in my life.”

Harry stared into Hermione’s brown eyes and felt his defenses giving way.

“You’re the only man that I’ve ever loved,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “There has never been and there could never be anyone in my heart, but you.”

She stared back at him, her eyes were pleading for his forgiveness; for that second chance. When he didn’t say anything and continued to stare at her, with his expression infuriatingly unreadable, her stomach seemed to plummet as she realized she’d damaged things irrevocably. Until he said, “Why would you want to be married to me for anyway?”

A smile was dancing on his lips as he put a hand on her shoulder.

She grinned impishly at him. “So, I can kiss you anytime I want.”

He grinned back at her before pulling her to him and claiming her lips.

They stood there, kissing for who knew how long until a loud, thunderous chorus of applause and whoops came from the field. Their friends were cheering loudly at them. Hermione and Harry broke their kiss and stared back at their friends, wide smiles on both their faces.

“What do you say about getting out of here?” Harry asked her, his thumb caressing her cheek.

She beamed back at him. “Take me home, Harry.”

************

When they returned to the cottage, Hermione settled onto the couch with Harry and they talked about the events that led to their separation. For the first time, they actually talked about their feelings about the miscarriage to each other. They were finally able to grieve the loss of their baby together.

It was after two o’clock in the morning when they finally decided to call it a night. Ron and Luna’s wedding was tomorrow evening and they both had a big day ahead of them. Sam, who had welcomed them both home with aplomb, now gave them both their space as he settled onto the couch.

They kissed at the door to the bedroom and Harry abruptly pulled away from Hermione.

“What?’ she asked breathlessly.

“Hold on just a moment,” he said, disappearing behind the bedroom door. A few moments later he emerged, holding one of his hands behind his back.

“What have you got there?” she asked, trying to peek behind him.

“Oh, no you don’t,” he said, holding her off.

She pouted.

”Okay, okay,” he said, bringing his hand from behind his back. “Hold out your left hand, please.”

She looked up at him bemused, but did as he asked. He opened his fist and Hermione saw her wedding ring, as well as his.

A fresh set of tears welled up in her eyes. She cupped her hand over her mouth.

“I believe this is yours,” he said.

She nodded and he put the ring on her trembling finger. He then put his own back on. He held up his hand and clasped it in hers.

“Now, it’s perfect,” he said, grinning at her.

“I love you,” she said, moving closer.

“I love you,” he said, leaning in to kiss her softly. He took her hand and led her into the bedroom and as he lay her down on the bed, Hermione finally felt as if she was truly home. She was where she belonged.

*****

The weather couldn’t have been more perfect the day that Ron Weasley married Luna Lovegood. The sun was shining brightly and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Molly and Arthur had truly gone all out. The backyard to the Burrow was decked out in flowers and looked, in a word, quite magical.

Hermione stood just inside the Weasley home waiting with Luna and her father for their cue to walk down the aisle.

“Dad,” Luna said, with a sympathetic grin. “Don’t you start crying, again! It’ll set me off.”

“I can’t help it,” Mr. Lovegood said. “You look so beautiful. I just wish your mum could have seen this.”

“She can see it,” Luna said, her voice breaking a bit. “She’s always with us, Dad.”

He nodded.

Hermione looked at her friend and couldn’t help agreeing with Luna’s dad. She really did look beautiful. She wore a simple white, spaghetti strap dress that was embroidered with lace and elegant beading. She wore no veil, but a garland of white flowers and baby’s breath adorned her blonde hair, which was curled in ethereal ringlets. She looked breathtaking. Hermione knew Ron would melt away when he saw Luna walking toward him.

“Nervous?” Hermione asked Luna.

”No,” Luna said, shaking her head. “I’m ready.”

Hermione smiled. “Ron’s really lucky to have you, Luna. I couldn’t have asked for a better person for him than you.”

Luna smiled. “Don’t you start on me, too! I’m going to be a sniveling mess by the time I make it to the altar.”

Hermione laughed as she hugged her friend. The music from outside signified that is was now time. Hermione squeezed her friend’s hand as she opened the door and slowly made her way down the aisle.

She caught Harry’s eye immediately and focused on him as she made her way down the aisle. She gave a playful wink at Ron as she made it to the altar and took her place.

Hermione watched Ron’s face as Luna and her father followed next. She saw such a look of love and happiness that she knew that her friend would be happy with Luna. She felt so happy for them both.

Hermione listened to the minister reciting the ceremony and she stole glances at her husband as Ron and Luna took their vows. The crowd laughed as Ron stumbled a bit on his vows, but he recovered beautifully and Luna beamed proudly at him.

“You may kiss your bride,” the minister said. Ron grinned cheekily as he pulled Luna close and kissed her softly as the crowd erupted in cheers.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the minister said proudly. “May I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Ronald Weasley.”

Luna whispered something in his ear. The minister chuckled before announcing, “Ronald and Luna Weasley.”

Hermione smiled as Ron and Luna linked hands and walked back up the aisle. She linked arms with Harry who couldn’t resist a quick peck on his wife’s cheek.

“Our little Ron has finally grown up,” Harry whispered to her.

“It’s about time,” Hermione said with a grin. “He was about to eat us out of house and home. Now, he’s Luna’s.”

They both watched as their friends were receiving congratulatory hugs from assembled family members and guests. Molly was crying, nearly inconsolably.

Harry looked over at Hermione who was taking it all in, with a huge smile spread across her face.

“What?” he asked her softly.

“Everything’s as it should be, isn’t it?” she asked him happily.

He nodded and wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder.

Hermione knew that things wouldn’t always be perfect and they’d no doubt have hard times in the future, but there was such promise and hope that she couldn’t help feeling optimistic. Harry had told her of his plans about Flourish & Blotts and she’d been blown away to say the least. She’d listened to his ideas and contributed a few of her own and was now looking forward to not only that venture, but a long, happy marriage with the man she loved.

“Do you think anyone would mind if we snuck out later?” Harry whispered in her ear.

She pulled away from him and pretended to be affronted. “I will have you know that I am an old, married woman now and I just can’t be expected to dash off at a moment’s notice with some cheeky bloke.”

“We wouldn’t want you’re husband to find out about this now, would we?” Harry asked, with a devilish grin. “I hear he’s quite famous and once this gets in the papers, it will be a scandal like the wizarding world has never seen. I think Ron was right when he said they’d call you a ‘scarlet woman.’

Hermione playfully punched him on the arm.

“What?” he asked, rubbing his arm where she’d hit him.

“Shut up and kiss me, Harry.”