Harry Potter and the Crossing of Fate

A/N: I regret to inform those that are reading this, that my previous piece Harry Potter and the Rings, will no longer be continued. Not because of any readers or other outside influences, but because of my own personally conflict with the story. I have found too many errors within the plotline itself, rather than the actually story. There are several gaps and holes that cannot be answered or fulfilled within a few chapters. Without realizing it, I had trimmed or started something within the story, but never fully explained it. I want to thank the readers who point out to me my none compliance with the expansion of the sub-plots.

Another problem was that I was unable to continue writing. I could not bring myself to write another sentence at this point in time. The plot is still there, so is the characters; it just is that I can't write any further at this point. To be a good author is to continue the story without a cave in of flow. Writer's blocks are different, those I can handle. There just seems like there is too much no being addressed, without those things being address I can not continue the story as well as could, and I can't find any way to include that in the story at this point.

This story will continue the basic concepts of my previous story, but there will be major changes within. For starters, there will be no Midnight, but there will be Dumbledore's son.

That is all I've got to say about the story at this point. Thank you for your patience and understanding.

Chapter One:

Thought to Be All Alone

“Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth." Sherlock Holmes.

Harry sat on his bed, trying to put down his dark memories. In the distance he heard his uncle's yells, but they did not register in his mind. Despite being at Number Four Pivet Drive for about two weeks, Harry had done little besides sit and stare out the window of his room. He had used the facilities, but had not bothered to leave his room beyond that.

With Mad-Eye Moody and Moony, as well as countless other Aurors, watching over the house, Harry no longer had to worry about malnutrition from his relatives. But deep in his mind, Harry knew the only reason any of them were watching over him was so he could survive to fulfill. They would only come when Harry was abused in some way by his relatives. He figured anything he did himself would go unnoticed.

Nothing physical, more or less psychological. If the memories Harry kept experiencing were not running through his head, he would have laughed at his disturbingly Hermione-like analytical thoughts. But the memories brought more turmoil than anything.

Two years ago, he had seen a new friend killed by Lord Voldemort; Two years ago, he saw the rebirth of Lord Voldemort; Two years ago, he had seen the “ghosts” of his parents. One year ago, he had believed himself to be going insane; one year ago, he had watched the attack on his best friend's father; one year ago, he had lost his godfather, his father figure, his mentor, his friend. Bellatrix Lestrange had killed his godfather, Sirius Black. Voldemort had killed a new friend Cedric Diggory. And now, both were killing even more.

There were some nights that Harry didn't even both to sleep. The dreams were too real. Too horrible to even imagine. He knew he was seeing everything from Voldemort's perspective, but why did the bastard have to be where ever the murders occurred? And the only way to stop him from entering his mind was to practice Occulimency, but he could not do that because the Ministry was guarding him like a hawk.

He was left to nothing more than staring to stopping the dreams. Harry found no solace in anything anymore. Memories of Cedric's death resurfaced and floated in his mind along with Sirius'. And they never went away. Not even when he dreamt whatever Voldemort saw. They were still there.

Staring out of his window, Harry turned the small mirror Sirius was going to give him in his hands. He had constantly tried to contact Sirius from the other side of the veil. And constantly he failed. He wouldn't give up, he need Sirius right now. He needed his parents. He needed someone. Someone to love him. . .

Looking out the window once more, Harry stood from his bed and moved toward the door. He stopped to stare at his picture in the mirror. Where once stood a boy now stood a man. Neither really knew love. Taking one last look into despair, he shuffled out the door and to the bathroom.

Days went slowly in the household at least they did for Harry. He had gotten to the point where, when a memory ended and a new one began, that was where the day began. He lost track of the number of days he had spent in his stupor, when in reality, no more than two weeks had gone by. But between days, Harry began to contemplate his life, specifically the people in it.

He was not going to let any thing happen to his family. His family was the most important thing in the world to him. And come hell or high water, they were going to be safe. Ron, the rest of the Weasleys, Tonks, Remus, Dumbledore, McGonagall, and . . . Hermione.

His heart gave a soft flutter to this. It had done it several time over the summer already. But as quickly as it came, it was gone. It those moments, between dreaming and sleeping, he felt happiness. Pure unadulterated happiness. But because he did not sleep anymore, he had not felt anything like it since the start of summer.

“Can't have none of that now can we?” And just like every other time when he felt something remote to happiness, HE showed up and HE sent the dreams. As the painful sleep overcame him, Harry fell onto his bed, cursing HIM.

* * * * *

“Wonderful isn't?” Voldemort voice crackled through the air. Harry spun around, surveying the scene before him.

Death was on the air. Tall fences were, at the top, wrapped in barb wire. Gangly men slowly shuffled their feet past two men, hanging by ropes and swaying in the wind. Darkened clouds covered the place. Concrete building line up in rows and the stench of death and excrements covered the land. Towers with men at them, holding guns stood watching the men file past the dead bodies. Making the mistake of taking a deep breath, Harry found himself in a coughing fit from the ash in the air.

“A wonderful morning for a history lesson,” Voldemort spoke loudly. None of the men walking past them even lifted their heads. The eyes Harry could see were dead and the skin hung off the bodies of many of them.

“Where are we?” Harry coughed once more, the ash beginning to burn his eyes.

“A pensive, Potter,” Voldemort laughed. Harry shuddered once as the burning of his scar added to the pain he already was in. “Can't take the pain?”

“Where are we?” Harry asked once more, this time on the ground from the pain.

“We are to watch an execution,” Voldemort said malevolency. Harry felt a new pain tug at his heart. Starring up at the two men daggling from the wooden bar, tears of sorrow replaced the ones of pain. Sirius and Cedric hung from their necks, lifeless looks in their eyes.

“No,” he whispered, shaking his head into his hands.

“Oh, it gets betters,” Voldemort laughed, grabbing onto Harry's head and forcing him to look upwards.

“No, God, please no,” Harry whispered, the tears falling freely now. He watched as two men in grey uniforms lead a brown-haired woman up the steps. Once at the top, he could only watch, fear and sorrow paralyzed him, as the noose was placed around her neck. “Hermione!” He screamed, trying to push his way through a newly formed crowd. Voldemort's evil laugh filled the air. “God please, no,” he yelled, shoving his way past the impenetrable crowd.

“Harry?” Hermione's head looked up as she was pushed forward. “Wake up Harry?”

“Hermione, no I can't lose you too!” Harry yelled over Voldemorts laughter.

“Wake up Harry,” her face stared directly at him as a man pulled a lever. The floor beneath her dropped. “WAKE UP!”

* * * * *

“WAKE UP!” Harry's eyes snapped open and his hand went to his burning scar. He opened his eyes slowly to see his aunt standing over him, her arms on his shoulder. “Harry, are you alright?”

“I'm fine,” whispered Harry. Tears were rolling freely down his face. She gave him a skeptical look before releasing him. “I'll be fine. Really I'll be fine.”

“Alright, Harry,” his aunt said, taking a step away from his bed. “You come down when you feel like it for dinner.” Harry nodded once, before turning to face the window once more. He vaguely heard a window opening and a quill scratching, but dismissed it as quickly as the thoughts came again.

“Don't think you getting away that easily,” Voldemort's voice called once more.

“Don't bet on it,” Harry mumbled. Sending the purest thought he had through the link, he could feel the screams ripple through his scar. Smiling to himself, Harry laid back to the bed, knowing he had hurt the man that had tortured his soul for better portion of his life. The biggest problem was that he really did not know how he did it or why he had sent a memory of Hermione hugging him after he had come out of the Chamber of Secrets?

* * * * *

Harry awoke for the first peaceful sleep he had in weeks. No nightmares, no pain, no sorrow, only bliss. A smile on his face faded before the sun rose as he remembered the nightmare he had from the previous night. Sitting up swiftly, Harry looked over to his open window and Hedwig perched calmly on her perch. Fixing his glasses, he noticed the note attached to the sleeping owl's leg.

Harry made his way over to the snow white owl. Carefully removed the letter attached to her, Harry softly petted her as he read the letter.

Dear Harry

I have been informed, by a source that wished to remain anonymous, that you have had several dreams concerning Voldemort. I must urge you to owl me once more when another occurs and I ask you now to owl me about your summer to this point.

We all feel his loss Harry, and there will be a memorial service for Sirius within the next few weeks. I will owl you once more about more information.

If you need anything, do not hesitate to ask.

Sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore

Headmaster of Hogwarts

Harry sat back on his bed for a moment or two after reading the letter. How did Dumbledore know about his problems? Should he write anything to him?

“No, you can't trust him,” a weak voice said from the back of his mind. Despite how weak it sounded, Harry just held a knowing smile on his face. His mind relaxed slightly and repeated the same process it had the previous night, sending another memory toward the owner of the voice.

“Let him deal with pain for a short while,” Harry chuckled lightly as he reread the parchment. He still had no idea how he hurt the bastard, but a joy came to him every time he did so. Maybe it was because he had hurt him, or maybe, and Harry hoped it was this, that it was because of the slight jump in his heart every time the memories resurfaced.

Harry sat looking over a Hedwig for a moment. Even more question had run through his head than the moment before. Who had sent her to Dumbledore? When was she gone? What others were sent? The quick tapping upon his door raised him from his stupor.

“Harry?” His aunt asked, knocking softly once more. “Are you awake?”

“Yes, Aunt Petunia,” Harry said still looking out the window.

“You seem to be doing better,” she said as she walked into the room. “Oh, good, your owl is back.” Harry looked back at her, shocked slightly.

“You used her?” He asked, looking between Hedwig and his aunt. She nodded once before sitting on the bed neck to him.

“Yes,” she said guilty. “For the last few years, I've heard your scream several names in you sleep, Harry. Last year ago, it was that boy named Cedric, this year it was you godfather, Sirius.” Harry felt his face go white. He knew he talked in his sleep, but assumed that it was not loud enough for any one else to hear it. “And then last night, there was that young girl's name. . .” She seemed to be stumbling for the name.

“Hermione,” Harry whispered softly. His aunt nodded once more. “It was just so real last night. And the pain. . .” His voice trailed off as he looked out the window.

“I know I haven't been a great aunt to you, or relative at all,” she said, looking out the window as well. “But if you ever have anything you want to talk about, anything at all, you can ask me, and I'll answer as honestly as possible.”

“Thank you,” Harry said, turning to smile at her. “I would like to ask you something?” She nodded her head in approval. “Why now, why now after all these years?”

“Because I've come to realize that I can't treat you the way I do because of my sister.” She looked dejectedly down at the floor. “You are not my sister, and no matter how much I may hate her, I still love her, and I can't help but love you as well. Even you uncle loves, in his own way.” Harry felt his jaw drop several feet at this. “We're all afraid of you Harry, and there are no apologies for what we put you through. I just wanted you to know, I'll make a better effort to make you feel loved.” She stood up at this and turned to leave.

“Why?” Harry asked, looking at the window once more. “Why did you change?”

“Because a saw a bit of my father in you Harry,” Aunt Petunia said with a small smile. “More than I'd ever like to admit. And because of the same reasons I love my father, I can't help but find the good in you.” Harry let a small smile grow on his face. “You don't know about them do you?” He shook his head. “Well, I'll find an album for you to look at tomorrow.” With that, she left him, closing the door behind her.

Harry turned to look out the window once more, finding a larger smile growing on his face. Not because of what Aunt Petunia said, but because of what he possible could gain: knowledge of his family. He turned once to look at Hedwig, who still was sleeping peacefully on her perch. He sat quietly staring out the window once more, like he had so often before, but this time, however, he wore a smile, not a large one, like when he saw Hermione or Ron, but a smile nonetheless.

He stood up and walked over to his desk, grabbing a piece of parchment and pen before sitting down. Slowly, he let his thoughts and feelings flow onto the paper:

Dear Professor,

I want to thank you for the letter. I also wish to apologize for the outburst at the end of last year. Although I had every right, I still feel guilty because of it. I also want to thank you for finally telling me, why Tom wants to get rid of me.

I am writing to tell you about the dreams I've been having this summer. They all have been focus around one theme, which almost seems like the theme of my life. Death; death has become the one constant in my life, and I can't take it any more. Too many people have died because of me, too many people have lost loved once because of me; too many people don't know love because of me. Even my future is tarnished by death. I can't escape it. And a part of me doesn't want to.

I don't want anyone else to bear this cross that I have. You have told me it was something like a great weight that lies upon my shoulders, and I have to agree with you. I feel older than I should, and I know I've missed out on a childhood, but I feel better knowing that I can stop others from going through the same thing.

I need to continue Occulmency. Tom has been attacking my mind, and I haven't sleep well in the last two weeks. The dreams came back, and I stopped them once, but I don't know if I could do so again. I need to master Occulmency before the new achool year starts. I don't want anyone else to die because of my mistakes.

As I had said, Tom kept trying to attack me. Last night, I had the worst dream to date. Attached is group of his upcoming attacks, but that isn't what I wanted to talk about. My dream last night dealt with three deaths. I don't feel comfortable right now, writing it down. I need to talk to you in person. I just need to talk to someone.

Thank you for you kindness,

Harry Potter

He looked at the letter once more before rolling it up and tying it and the parchment with the list of attacks to Hedwig's leg. Sitting back upon his bed, Harry watched her fly out the window. His life began to grow emptier as the moments passed. But one thing he knew he was not going to do was let that bastard use him like he did in the previous years. Standing back up, he returned to his desk, removing several of his books. The only way he really knew to preoccupy his mind was either homework or Quidditch, and since the latter was prohibited and he was banned for life from it, homework was he only really option.

And slowly, he worked on his Potions homework for the majority of the day. His relatives did not bother him that day, with the acceptation of his aunt placing a sandwich on his bed for him, Harry was left alone. And he was content with this, this loneliness. Because unlike the one he felt from the summer before, this one, this loneliness felt shallow and . . .

While he searched for the words for his loneliness, a brown barn owl flew into the room, landing on Hedwig's perch. Looking up from his daze and his homework, Harry untied the letter from the owl's leg, which was held outward for Harry to remove the letter from. A large smile grew on his face as he recognized the handwriting.

Dear Harry,

I wanted you to know, my family's sympathy is with you. I told them about what happened to you, and even now, I can't stop the tears when I think of everything you've been through. You're too young to be through so much Harry, and too sweet and kind of a person to have these things happen to you.

Everyday, I wonder why you're still my friend, and why you want to put up with me, a bookwormish know-it-all. I know you'd tell me I'm not, but every day, you show me more kindness than any relatives other than my parents ever did. I guess I never thanked you for sticking up for me, or treating me like a normal person. Well, here it goes, thank you Harry, thank you for finding the girl behind the book.

Love always,

Hermione

Harry sat for a while, staring at the tear-stained letter. She, Hermione, had just thanked for doing what came naturally to him, being a friend to her and protecting her. When in reality, it should be him, thanking her for everything she has ever done to help him. From helping him with his homework to comforting him when he needed. Heck, he barely knew anything about her family, and yet she, he would guess, could name just about everything there was to know about his life, that could not be find in a book. And once again, a flutter flew into Harry's heart, but it turned and flew away before he could discern what it was.

The owl was long gone, and he still had not gotten a response from Dumbledore. Hedwig would not be back until the following morning and he would not be able to much more homework with Hermione's letter on his mind. Looking at the clock, and determining he was alone in the house, Harry carefully walked down the stairs to the kitchen.

No one was home at the moment, and a curt note was left upon the table for Harry. Basically, he had to make sure he did not blow up the house while they were out. They had gone to visit Uncle Vernon's sister, Aunt Marge. A woman, larger than his uncle or his cousin Dudley, that positively hated Harry. No reason other than he was Harry. But now was not the time to discern anymore of his relatives lives.

Fixing himself a small sandwich, Harry returned to the solitude of his room, find solace with those four walls. Looking back at the tear-stained letter, Harry rolled out the creases in it and placed it carefully next to his picture of his best friends, Hermione and Ron. Ronald Weasley was his other best friend, his first friend. And the Weasley's became his second family, his first consisting of Hermione, Ron and Hagrid.

Harry kept sneaking glances at the picture within the frame. A simple picture with just Harry and Ron on both sides of Hermione, largest smiles a boy could have. He couldn't help but smile as well. Although Ron at times was a prat at times, Harry would not change anything in the world about him, except possible his jealous. Ron could work on that. And Hermione, well, there was nothing he wished to change about her. She was everything he could hope for in a woman, and just hoped that he managed to find someone as special as her to become his wife. His heart fluttered once more before he returned toward his homework, trying to work out the finite uses of rosemary and the define love.

“Hello Harry.” A comforting, familiar voice said. Harry almost fell off the chair as he quickly turned around. Dumbledore stood in an earth toned robe, and held a different look to his image than before. One of relief and. . . Once more Harry could not put his finger upon an emotion. But this emotion, however similar to the flutter in his heart. But it was not. The flutter brought more joy, more ecstatic happiness than the twinkle upon Dumbledore's eyes.

“Professor, what are you doing here?” Harry asked as Dumbledore sat down on upon Harry's bed, but not before looking around his room.

“I came because you asked me to,” he said with the familiar twinkle upon his eye. “Ah, here comes Hedwig.” Almost on queue, the snow white owl flew into Harry's room and landed gracefully upon her perch. Harry ran his fingers down her back as she slowly became rendered in a slumber. “What did you wish to talk to me about?” Dumbledore asked with a knowing twinkle behind his half-moon glasses.

“Well, sir, last night, I had one dream that I don't think I can handle another like,” Harry said, not making eye-contact. “Voldemort, he worked his way into my mind once more. He told me we were watching a pensive. But I didn't know they could be changed, sir?” He looked up at Dumbledore at this point.

“They can, just like a mind can be made to forget, memories can change as well,” Dumbledore said, staring at him with intense but kind blue eyes.

“Well, I was in this place surrounded by barb wire, had these concrete buildings, and men looked like they were skeletons,” Harry said, closing his eyes at the coming memories. “The air was foul and burnt me, sir. I felt like I was, for lack of a better term, in Hell.”

“You may as well been,” Dumbledore said, sympathy shining behind the rims of his glasses. “You described to me, one of the lowest points in human, Muggle and Wizard, history. You were within the walls of a German concentration camp during World War Two. Why you were there-”

“He wanted to show me something,” Harry interjected. “Two people were hung from this bar and a third was being hung as well.” His face turned downward at this, and the tears slowly began to come as the memory returned, full force. “Cedric was the first one hanging, Sirius the second, and. . . and. . . and Hermione was being hung as I watched.” He placed his hands and broke down into tears. He could not lose her as well, not after losing Sirius. A comforting hand was placed upon his shoulder.

“Harry, he is trying to get at you once more,” Dumbledore said, making Harry look up. “You are a strong boy, stronger than you'll ever know. And this strength does not come for your body or your mind. But rather,” he pointed at Harry's chest, “it comes from here. I've watched you grow up, here and at Hogwarts Harry. I know what your relatives have done to you and have made you do. And what surprises me the most is how you are able to see the best in people, even your enemies at times.” Dumbledore began to chuckle at this. “And more than ever, the people you heart grows to know, are affected by you. Not the Boy-Who-Lived, by you Harry. The power to defeat Voldemort does not lie within a book, or a wand, but rather with your heart.”

“Thank you, sir,” Harry whispered, regaining his composure. “Why within my heart?”

“Because, it was your heart, marked the worst by his acts,” Dumbledore said, grimly, but kept a small smile upon his face. “From the day you were born to this very day, Harry, you've proven that whatever he throws at you, your heart can withstand it. But now, more than ever, it seems that you need more than what a simple friend can offer.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked, looking out the window once more.

“I mean you need to find that once person who means more to you than life itself, and cling to that person for dear life,” Dumbledore said, as his eyes clouded over with memories. “Because Harry, before you know it, there is the chance they will be gone without ever knowing how you ever felt.” Confused slightly by Dumbledore's words, Harry could only smile.

“Thank you sir, for talking with me,” Harry said, turning back to the window.

“There is one more piece of unfinished business,” Dumbledore said to Harry. He stood up and walked to the front of Harry's bed. “A little redecoration and a few more things.”

At the wave of Dumbledore's wand, the room began to change. Not only increasing in size, the design became different as well. Now resembling closer to the Gryffindor Common Room, Harry felt a sense of calming overcome him. He could only smile and be shocked as Dumbledore sat down in one of the comfortable chairs he had just created.

“Amazing,” Harry whispered as Dumbledore chuckled.

“I wouldn't say that,” the old man spoke, waving his wand once more. “I just happen to know more than you do.” A small pitcher of pumpkin juice appeared on a table next to the chair. Two glasses appeared along with it. Pouring one glass, he handed it to Harry, who thanked him, and poured himself another. “We will be discussing several things before the night ends.” Harry nodded once as Dumbledore began to talk again.

“A lot has changed in these two weeks, Harry,” Dumbledore said, taking a drink from the glass before setting it down. “Voldemort has risen to power. And even as we speak, he has begun a raid upon Europe. He has been gaining momentum since the Ministry of Magic incident and within a few weeks, I believe he will commence an attack somewhere within southern Germany.”

“How do you know that?”

“I have a connect working out some of his own relations down there at this time, keeping an eye on things.” Harry could seem some pride and fear within Dumbledore's eyes but did not ask. “He will be returning shortly and you'll meet him, but he shares some of my secrets which you will learn in time.” Harry groaned at this.

“Don't tell me there is another prophecy,” Harry said, shaking his head. Dumbledore began to chuckle at this.

“No, not in so many words, but there are a few things we must wait to talk about,” Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eyes. “But your training will be increased this year. On top of your regular DADA class, you will be training with me and the rest of the Order.” Harry smiled at this, knowing he would finally be rightfully prepared for the journey ahead of him. “You also will continue your extracurricular training.” Harry nodded his head understanding Dumbledore's words.

“Will you or Professor Snape be teaching me?” Harry asked.

“For the time being, I believe it will be Professor Snape,” Dumbledore said. “But you should continue to clear your mind of all thoughts before going to bed. Especially now that Voldemort has been trying to enter your mind more frequently.” Harry gave an understanding nod.

“Sir, what kind of training?” Harry asked.

“Well, you will be trained mainly in defensive strategies, as well as more advanced curses, hexes and charms,” Dumbledore said, looking at him. “You also will be trained to become an Animagus.” Harry's eyes lit up at this.

“You mean I get to be…” His voice trailed off at this point, the shock just too much. Dumbledore could only chuckle.

“Yes, Harry,” Dumbledore said, leaning back in his chair. “But you will not be registered, for your own safety of course.” Harry nodded. “But that means you can not abuse the privilege once you do learn, understand?” A stern look grew across Dumbledore's face, but a twinkle lay behind his glasses. “Now, the last thing I wish to go over with you is your access to the school library from your room. You should consider studying ahead this year, to prepare yourself for the training as well as Voldemort.”

“Alright, sir,” Harry said, looking toward the window once more. But unlike the previous part of the summer, he watched the sun slowly set, instead of just staring out at it. “I just want a normal life, sir, that's all I ever wanted. But after last year, I found out I could never have one, not as long as Voldemort was alive. I want everyone else to have a normal life too. But that can't happen. We both know why, and this year, I don't want him to take away from friends or my family.” A hand was upon his shoulder once more.

“Harry, what happens will happen,” Dumbledore said cryptically. “You can't save everyone, and sometimes, even the hero needs to be saved. You're not alone Harry. There are countless of us who will give our lives so yours will be safe.”

“I don't want any one else to day because of me,” he whispered, lowering his gaze.

“We wouldn't be dying because of you, we'd be dying for you,” Dumbledore said. “In your second year, Harry, when you went into the Chamber of Secrets, you risked your life for a friend. Now it is our turn to do it for you.” Harry looked back up at Dumbledore, a smile on the old man's face. “Well, I best be going.” He said, clapping his hand upon Harry's shoulder. “I have to attend to some other things and you have a letter to write.”

“I do?” Harry asked confoundedly.

“That is Miss Granger's letter sitting upon your desk, is it not?” Dumbledore chuckled. “And knowing her as well as you do, it would be best to owl her immediately.” Harry couldn't help but laugh as well.

“Yes, sir,” Harry laughed spinning in his chair. “But sir, how did you get here and how are you leaving?” The familiar pop of Apparation was heard as Harry turned around. All that was left was a small note on the floor. Picking it up, Harry only saw one word on it. “Read.” He repeated. Turning back to his desk, he pulled another parchment out, beginning the long, but joyful and relieving process of writing to Hermione.

Dear Hermione

I can't thank you enough. For your letter, for your kindness, for being you. You said that you should be thanking me, when on the little planet we call Earth, it should be me thanking you. My life is worth living because of you. Your friendship, I've found, is the one constant in my life. Yes, Ron is my friend too, but his friendship wavers like a leaf in the wind. Yours stands as sturdy as the maple tree. No matter how rough it gets, or how hard it may be, you have always been there for me, Hermione, and for that I thank you.

I wanted to tell you something, something I've kept inside for too long, despite it being only a few weeks. When we returned from the Ministry, Dumbledore told me something that has been kept quiet since the day of my birth. I don't want to tell you in this letter, not afraid that it would be intercept, but rather I am afraid of what you would say when you hear about it. I need to see you in person to tell you this. Dumbledore told me there was going to be a memorial service for Sirius and I want you to come. It would mean a lot to me, and him too, if you would join me there. I haven't fully dealt with everything yet, and it would be nice to have a shoulder to cry on then.

Sorry, I mean to sound whiny or needy. How was your vacation so far? After reading your letter, I figured out how little I know about you and how much I would love to know more about you. Please write to me again, tell me you'll come. I would love it if you did. I would also love it if you told me more about yourself. Maybe we can meet a day earlier and just talk. I would really like that, to talk to another human being before my birthday.

Eternally and forever

Harry

Smiling Harry read over his letter. `That should stop her tears,' he thought as he rolled it. Gently petting Hedwig, Harry tied the letter to her leg. She hooted once before flying out the window.

Harry could not help but smile as the bird slowly flew away. Dumbledore's words and Hermione proved his worst fear to be wrong. And for that, he welcome the next day in his life.

A/N: Well, that certainly was shorter than expected. But I liked it. I like it a lot better than my other beginning. You see Harry admitting his faults, instead of bearing others. I liked that part of the story. I think I did a good job of readdressing the similar plot. Make of note of that, similar, not the same. A lot will change within my OCs but the rest will basically be the same. But because of the change within the OCs the plot will adapt along with it. Not much, you will still recognize the same material, I just have to rewrite it.

J. K. Rowlings owns what you recognize as hers, and probably a few other things. I own the rest.

I liked beginning with a quote. I think I will start to include one every chapter. I know that J. K. Rowlings doesn't use them, but I like using them. A few I may reuse on top of other ones within the story. Quotes express in a few words what I may try to convey in a couple thousand.

And for those of you who were counting, the last chapter had five thousand six-hundred thirty-three, 5633. I thought that was pretty good, consider I'm going to go for better plot action and relations between characters. I know it is the shortest chapter I've ever done, but what are you going to do about it besides give suggestions. I am always open for those.

Chapter Two:

Calming Memorial

"Denial ain't just a river in Egypt." Mark Twain

Harry sat, alone, unmoving in his room. Despite his current state of physical being, he was deep in thought. Deep in thought over the coming memorial service; deep in thought over the several thick books on curses and hexes that he wanted to use that coming year; but must of all, he was deep in thought over his coming talk with Hermione. And once again, since he had sent that letter, his heart skipped a beat.

Every little thought began to remind him of Hermione. His reading turned into habits she went through as she read a book. His habits turned into her scolding him. His being scolded by his uncle turned into Hermione's care for his safety. Funny how life's little twists turn.

Shaking his head, he turned back to the book in his lap. Seating in the comfy chair that Dumbledore had conjured, Harry began to read more and more about the art of conjuring. It amazed him at the power needed to conjure some of the objects. The book used Arthimancy to aid in explaining the explanations, and he found a book on that to help him, but then he needed a book to explain that book, and all of this occurred after he had finished his homework for the summer.

Dumbledore had charmed the bookshelves within Harry's new room to allow him to find every book on a topic, down to his littlest details he needed. How Dumbledore was able to do such powerful magic astounded Harry. He had not found a book pertaining to the topic, but knew that one had to exist.

But at the moment, that did not matter. He currently was studying the fine aspects of conjuring, with a book of Arthimancy next to him so he could understand the charts within the book. Surprisingly some of Arthimancy was beginning to sink in, allowing him to further indulge on the conjuring, and another art included in the book: enchanting.

Enchanting was something that had peaked Harry's interest. No matter how wordy or complicated the book became, he was still able to understand what was being explained and how to do it. He began to wish he would be able to return to school so he could attempt a few of the simpler procedures to enchant an object. He had spent the better part of an afternoon reading about conjuring and enchanting when an owl came with a letter.

Reluctantly standing up, Harry untied the letter and the brown bird flew off. Only a few simple words were written on the paper, and a small old brass ring was tied to it.

This will take you to my home; from there you will go to the memorial service. It is tomorrow at ten, this is set to go off at nine a.m.

Albus

Harry could only smile at this. Dumbledore came by every now and then to simply talk to him. Harry was able to discuss his thoughts and ideas for the upcoming year, mainly working on enchanting. The book said it was able to empower a piece of clothing or object with certain magical properties. Harry wanted to attempt to make a bracelet that would protect Ron and… Hermione…

His thoughts stopped at Hermione once more, and he caught himself day dreaming about her again. He found himself doing that often. And now, his greatest wish in the world was not to have a normal life, but to protect Hermione. He smiled at the thought, whatever it was. And off in the distance, he thought he could hear an evil laugh, combined with a painful scream. The scream did not trouble him, the laughter did.

Voldemort was planning something, something big enough to make his scar hurt slightly. He had not told Dumbledore of this yet, and figured on telling him when they meet once more at the memorial service. He also wanted to meet the contact of his, a man, Harry was told, would interest him. Dumbledore seemed to have more to himself than the entire Wizarding world knew.

Looking back down at the book, he knew he could not concentrate longer on it. He let out a sigh of relief, relief from what he was not sure, but he definitely relieved about something. Maybe it was because his mind could not take any more information for the day. Or maybe because he finally was going to get something off his chest, talking to someone other than Dumbledore. Like Hermione.

And once more, Harry felt his heart flutter. At least now he knew the reason behind it. At the beginning of the summer, the only explanation he had was indigestion. But now, he could not explain the feelings. He had nothing to compare it too.

Harry signed once and turned to look toward the window. It was only a matter of several long hours until he would be able to talk to her about the previous year. Over the last few days, he had figured out the reason for the problems he had the previous year. It was a stretch, albeit, but he figured that it was Voldemort's attacks upon his mind and control him slightly that made him so angry. But now, that was all over, now the anger was gone, replaced by… by… by what, he could not say, but it certainly calmed him, especially when he was around Hermione or thought of her.

Placing the book back in the shelf, Harry laid down on his bed. He had not had a nightmare, or a dream, during the last few nights. The calmness was beginning to get to him slightly, but he was not going to complain. After two years of such dreams, he was glad for the calm. He began to think of all the other times that he had to go through with the dreams as he prepared for bed. It was late, though and once again, he welcomed the quiet sleep.

* * * * *

Harry awoke to the morning sun slowly crawling over his face. A smile grew on his face as he put on his glasses and looked at the clock. He still had a few hours before Dumbledore's portkey would activate. As he got out of bed, an extra hitch joined his step. He felt a growing anticipation in his heart, as well as that ever familiar, but now growing, flutter.

He showered and fixed breakfast for his relatives. He had not talked to them in some time, and figured his aunt had forgotten what she had originally told him. But today, it did not matter. His godfather, his friend, would be getting what a hero deserved. Not only would some closure come to him, he would find even more by talking to Hermione about the Prophecy. This seemed to spark his interest the most, for whatever reason he could not think of.

Harry sat back on his bed, playing with the small brass ring. It fumbled through his fingers a few times as he waited. He once again had a dreamless night. Voldemort had not tried to pry anymore into Harry's mind anymore, which he was thankful for. The quiet allowed him to gather his thoughts. It also had allowed him to set his mind on something.

He was going to try and pull away this year, away from anyone who could get hurt because of him. After telling Hermione of the Prophecy, he was going to draw back, and try to stay out the way. It was the only way he could protect her and everyone else for that matter. He did not want anyone else to die because of his mistakes or his failures. No more.

He felt the familiar tug of the portkey pull him as it activated. He would think more about it later; at this moment, he needed to mentally prepare himself from the memorial service. He soon found himself in seated in a comfortable chair.

“Well, hello,” a voice greeted him. Harry looked up from the expensive Persian rug to see a man not unlike Dumbledore sitting across from him. The man had the same long silver beard that could have been tucked into his belt as Dumbledore did, and like Dumbledore's was, completely silver, closer to white than anything else. Unlike Dumbledore, the man did not wear glasses and held no twinkle behind his eyes. On the contrary, this man's blue eyes seemed darker and filled with pain almost. Harry could not help but feel like he had seen the man before somewhere.

“Hello, sir,” Harry said, unsure of who he was speaking to.

“My brother should be here any moment now,” the man said, steepling in fingers. He glared at Harry from around them. Harry took this time to look around the room he was in.

The windows behind the man's chair lighted the room, giving an even eerie look to the man sitting before Harry. What light that was coming in allowed Harry to see the massive bookshelves lined with literally thousands of books. A smile crept along his face as he looked excitedly around the room. He simply was amazed at how many books and how much he knew Hermione would die happy in this place. The flutter came back again, but was gone as soon as he looked the man once more.

The man still held a piercing look in his eyes. “Who is your brother?” Harry asked, shifting slightly underneath the gaze.

“I'm right here Harry,” a kind voice said. Harry turned toward a set of now open doors to see Dumbledore walking into the room. “I'm sorry if my brother has been a little rude to you. Aberforth doesn't leave the house much.” Dumbledore smiled at Harry for a moment before continuing. “Shall I show you to your room?”

“My room?” Harry asked, puzzled slightly.

“Yes, I figured you would have like to stay here for the remainder of the summer,” Dumbledore said with a smile, but it quickly retreated. “Grimmauld Place is no longer safe, I'm afraid. Only recently have we found out that the Malfoys know where it is Harry. Someone has once again betrayed the Order and Voldemort has taken control over it.” Harry felt his body go numb at the news. He had been expecting to return there, with Moony for some closure over it all, but now it seemed like the pain was just going to tear him up inside.

“I think there is someone here who could help you,” Dumbledore said, slowly retreating from the room. “Aberforth, watch over him for a moment.” Harry looked at the man sitting before him. Aberforth did not speak or even blink as Dumbledore left. Sitting in the silence, Harry stood up and walked toward one of the bookshelves, trying to move his mind away from anything other than Sirius's death.

“Finally you let your guard down now have you?” Harry's hand shot up to his scar as he collapsed on the floor. “I owe you Potter, for what you did to me.”

* * * * *

“Welcome back Potter.” Harry turned around, regaining his senses as Voldemort stood before a concrete building. He was again was in the concentration camp, but in a different part this time. Harry began to cough more and more as he tried to breath. “Doesn't death smell wonderful?”

“Why?” Harry asked, trying to control his coughing fits.

“Watch.” Harry felt Voldemort's hand on his head, lifting it toward a line of men and women, chained together. At the front were his parents, then Cedric, countless people he couldn't recognize, then Sirius, more people he had never known, and finally Hermione. That didn't scare him as much as what they were being forced to walk to: a furnace. “Wonderful isn't?”

“No,” he whispered as he watched his parent being pushed in. First his father was thrown in, then his mother. Cedric went next, falling in. “No, God, please don't do this.” Harry covered his ears as the screams came from the furnace.

“Yes, and God doesn't exist here,” Voldemort laughed.

“No,” Harry whispered, standing and running forward. The line began to get closer to Hermione; Sirius was gone in a blink of an eye before Harry was able to go ten feet. “No.” Another five were gone as he ran closer. “No, no more.” Hermione was coming closer to the furnace, and still had not noticed him. “No Hermione!” Harry said, lunging the finally few feet. Hermione turned to look at Harry once more. “I can't lose you too!”

“Wake up Harry,” she begged in a monotone voice. “Wake up! Wake UP!”

* * * * *

“Harry, please, wake,” a feminine voice pleaded with him. A comforting touch was upon his shoulders as he slowly opened his eyes.

“Hermione?” He asked hoarsely as he stared into her hazel eyes. His one hand over his scar prevented him from seeing her completely but when he tried to move his hand, he felt her comforting one replace his over his scar. He could see her now though; it brought a smile to his pain-struck face.

Her hair was tied back in a pony tail and Harry could not help but look her over. Her body was tanned now, from a summer in France no doubt. She had changed for the better and he knew every guy in Hogwarts would want a date with her.

A slight pang of something hit his heart for a moment before disappearing all together. Whatever it was did not last long. Not with Hermione's caring look in her eyes.

She smiled at him, tossing back a piece of his hair. Tears were slowly coming down from her eyes. “You had me so worried,” she said, pulling him off the floor and into a hug. He wrapped his arms around as he began to look around. Dumbledore stood over him, concern in his old eyes.

“What happened?” Dumbledore asked as Hermione held him tighter.

“Voldemort,” Harry said, and for the first time, he was in a room with people that did not flinch at the name. “He tried to get me again, and he succeeded. I was in the same place.” Dumbledore's face turned sullen at this.

“Where were you Harry?” Hermione asked, pulling back slightly. He saw the confusion upon her face and gave her a meek smile.

“Hell,” Harry said, bring her close once more. It was sheer torture to know she was going to die, and feel the powerlessness that he had in whatever realm Voldemort had taken him. “I was in Hell.”

“How did it happen this time?” Dumbledore asked, kneeling down in front of Harry.

“A furnace, sir,” Harry said, looking at Hermione as her sob quieted down. “But this time, I didn't see just the same three. I saw my parents as well and countless others. The three were the only others I recognized as well, sir. ”

“Who?” Hermione asked, pulling back from Harry.

“Cedric, Sirius, and…” Harry's voice trailed off at this point. He stared deeply into her eyes for a moment or too. “You, Hermione, you were the last one.” At this point, tears slowly rolled down Harry's face as she began to take in everything. “I keep seeing you going to die and…and…” His voice trailed off once more. “And I can't take that Hermione. Not you.” It was Hermione's turn to attempt to comfort Harry.

“I'm here, Harry,” she said. Harry could hear her trying to keep her own tears back. “I'm here.” He felt her gentle hands on his back as he pulled her closer, just to confirm her own words.

“I shall leave you two alone for a moment,” Dumbledore said, standing up. Harry barely registered the fact the Dumbledore walked to his brother and helped the older man out of the room.

“I can't lose another member of my family,” Harry whispered into her hair. “I can't lose you.”

“”I'm not going to leave you, Harry,” she whispered back, the shock evident in her paused words. “I'm here now. I'll always be here.” They sat in silence for a while, neither speaking nor moving.

“I need to tell you something,” Harry said, summoning all of his Gryffindor courage. He felt her thumb lightly touch his cheek as he looked into her eyes.

“I'm here,” she whispered, smiling slightly.

“Can we move to the chairs?” Harry asked. She giggled once covering her mouth, trying to hide it. Harry could only smile at this.

“Sure, Harry,” Hermione said, as Harry stood up from the floor. She held a hand up. Smiling Harry helped her off the floor and led her over to the chairs in the center of the room.

“I found something out at the end of last year,” Harry said, not making eye contact with her. She had already taken a seat across from him, and taken a hold of his hands. “It was right after Sirius's death.”

“Oh, Harry.” Hermione said. Harry felt her squeeze tighter, giving him some more strength. “I'm so sorry.”

“Dumbledore told me the reason behind Voldemort's attack upon my parents.” He removed one hand and wiped away a few tears from his face. “There was a Prophecy made right before my birth.” He placed the hand back over hers.

“The one we tried to get from the Ministry,” Hermione whispered. Harry looked up at her and smiled.

“Yeah,” he said through his tears. “It was destroyed, but that was just a copy of the prophecy. I met the man who heard it and recorded it in a Pensive.”

“Who recorded it?” Hermione asked as he paused to gain his bearings.

“Dumbledore did,” Harry said, his face growing cold. This began to bring back the memories of their conversation from the previous year. “He had me listen to it after we had a heated conversation.” He looked up at Hermione at this point, seeing the confusion on her face. “I'd rather not talk about that, but the Prophecy itself.” She nodded and he turned his gaze back to the floor. “It is one of the few thing has been engraved in my mind.

“THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD APPROACHES….BORN TO THOSE WHO HAVE THRICE DEFIED HIM, BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES…AND THE DARK LORD WILL MARK HIM AS HIS EQUAL, BUT HE WILL HAVE THE POWER THE DARK LORD KNOWS NOT… AND EITHER MUST DIE AT THE HAND OF THE OTHER FOR NEITH CAN LIVE WHILE THE OTHER SURVIVES….THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD WILL BE BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES….”

Harry waited for it all to sink it, letting the memory of the conversation with Dumbledore fully flow back into his mind. His anger, his rage, and most of all his guilt. Two arms around his neck, hugging him tightly snapped him out of his daze.

“Hermione?” Harry opened his eyes to see her hugging onto him like it was the most important thing in the world. Her shoulders were wreaked with sobs. He moved his arms around her and drew her into the seat with him.

“Why does everything have to happen to you?” Hermione asked through her sobs.

“Maybe because my heart can take it?” Harry offered, recalling the conversation he had with Dumbledore during the summer. The one that started all of this fiasco.

“But it shouldn't have to,” Hermione said, staring at him. “You are too kind and too gentle to have to go through this.”

“Most of the world doesn't know me like you do, Hermione,” Harry whispered. “Heck, even Ron forgets that at times.”

“He should remember that too, Harry,” Hermione said, wiping a tear from her eye. “You have risked your neck for both of us countless times, and not once did you ever complain or worry about yourself. You shouldn't have to do that.”

“I shouldn't have to, but I don't mind,” Harry said, smiling as he brought her closer, positioning her head on his shoulder. “One of the few things in life that brings me pleasure is knowing you are safe.” Although her tears had stopped, Harry could see the pooling in her eyes as she pulled back to stare at him.

“What?” Hermione asked after a moment or two of speechlessness.

“I said I enjoy looking out for you,” Harry said smiling at her. She began to blush and turned back to Harry's shoulder. “There is something else, `Mione.” She looked up at him once more. “In order for all of this to end, either I have to kill or be killed.” At this, Hermione began to break down in tears. He could only attempt to comfort her as she cried her troubles out. They sat in relative silence for a few moments, before the sound of a door slamming open.

“Grandpa!” A man's voice ringed through the halls. Hermione cringed into Harry's chest further as the man burst through the doors to the room that they were in. He came running into the room, only to stop suddenly a few feet in. “Sorry.” He said sheepishly. Harry turned to get a good look, and nearly dropped Hermione off his lap.

A man with dark unkempt hair stood before him. Deep blue eyes or at least that was what Harry thought them to be, stared back at him through a set of rim glasses. In every photo that Harry had ever seen of his father, the man before him came remarkable close to being a doppelganger for his father.

“Sorry about that,” the man said, taking a step forward into the dim light. Harry's heart dropped from whatever step it was on.

The young man's hair was nothing like James's. A dark blue, like the depths of the ocean was onto of the man's head, majority of it kept back by a red bandana with golden designs on it. He had a set of gloves that covered his hands, but the one on his right hand went all the way up to his elbow, with the one on the left ending at the wrist. Other than those to things, he looked like a carbon copy of his father.

“I'm looking for Albus Dumbledore,” the man said not making eye contact. “Do you happen to know where he would be at this moment?”

“Serge, my boy, how good to see you again.” Dumbledore said, with joy as he walked into the room. The young man walked over to Dumbledore and embraced him. “What news brings you here?” He said as they took a step back from each other.

“Terrible, I'm afraid, but it seems like it must wait,” Serge said, giving Dumbledore a look. “I don't think that all of the parties involved are ready for it.” Dumbledore just nodded once before turned and walking over to Harry and Hermione.

“I hope that you two have discussed what has needed to be discussed.” He gave them both a knowing look. “You both need to get ready for the service. Hermione please show Harry his room. You both may take the next hour or so to freshen up and prepare for the service.” They both nodded and Hermione stood up from Harry's lap. He stood up almost immediately, wiping away a few stray tears. Picking up her hand, he began to walk of the room with her by his side.

“Do you know where you're going?” Hermione asked, looking at him through redden eyes. He could only smile at her. “Come on.” She then dragged across what looked like simple hallway, completely different than the library which he was in moments before. She led him over to a staircase as he tried to take in how simple the house seemed to be.

“Dumbledore lives here?” Harry asked as she stopped trying to force him.

“He told me that despite the amount of money he has, he likes to live comfortably,” Hermione said with a smile. “He told me that as he gave me a tour of his house.” They both walked up the stairs slowly. Harry could not get over how perfect it was to hold her like he did when she was crying.

“So which one is my room?” Harry asked as she led him down the hallway.

“This one,” she stopped at a door at the end of the hallway. “He pointed it out to me, but wouldn't let me see it until you came.”

“Well, let's have a look,” Harry said, opening the door. “Ladies first.” He held the door open for her. She blushed as she walked past him.

“I'm not a lady,” Hermione said, not making eye contact. He could see the red tinge on her cheeks and could not help but continue.

“Well if you a man that I'm really in trouble,” Harry thought out loud, getting a playful slap on the arm from her. “No, you're definitely are a lady.” She blushed again. Harry stepped into the room, finally getting a good look of it.

“Amazing,” Hermione said from the center of the room. Truthfully Harry had not even looked at the room yet as he enter. His eyes were locked upon Hermione, who stood spinning in the center.

“I'd have to agree,” Harry said as he entered. She looked over at him and blushed once more. He could not help but blush as well. Whatever had come over him, sure felt good in his heart.

Harry looked around the room, trying to keep his mind off of Hermione. The room was covered in books, and two comfortable chairs rest near a table. The strangest part was though the coloring of the room. The rest house felt dull and empty, but the light walls, what little there was, seemed to brighten the room.

“My god, it's beautiful,” Hermione whispered as Harry walked over. Before he could say anything she glared at him, but the red tinge to her cheeks betrayed it. “I was talking about the room.”

“I know you were,” Harry smiled at her. “I was just going to say I don't think I'd be able to drag you out of this house even if you were dead.”

“And what do you mean by that?” Hermione said, turning and giving him her stern look.

“Look at this place, `Mione,” Harry said, raising his hands and spinning around. “I don't happen to like reading half as much as you do, and yet I get the feeling I could sit in one of those chairs all day.” He shook his head and walked over to her.

“Sorry about that Harry,” Hermione whispered looking around the room once more. “It's just that, you're right. I would love to spend the rest of the summer here.”

“Why don't you?” Harry asked. Her head moved quickly to give him a questioning look. “Professor Dumbledore told me that I would be staying here for the remainder of the summer. I could use someone to talk to…” His voice began to trail off and he found the floor increasingly interesting.

“I would love to Harry,” Hermione said promptly. He raised his gaze, bearing a large smile on his face. “You are going to have to excuse me now, we have to get ready.”

“Alright,” Harry said, looking around the room. “Where exactly is the bathroom?” Harry asked, noticing the two doors on opposite sides of the main entrance to the room. Hermione just began to blush as she walked over to one.

“This door leads to a bathroom connected to another room. Dumbledore told me that I could use that one to change,” Hermione said. Harry could only join her in blushing.

“Then by all means,” Harry said, walking over to the door on the left. “Ladies first.” He held the door open for her. “I'll wait to shower. You can go first, `Mione.”

“Why are you calling me that?” Hermione asked placing her hands on her hips. “No one has ever called me that before.”

“Sorry, it just came out naturally,” Harry said, running a hand through his hair. He felt his face grow hot “I'll stop if you-”

“No,” Hermione said with such a force it surprised them both. “I mean-no, I like it Harry. But I don't think I'd like it half as much if someone else called me it.” She was blushing along with Harry now.

“Alright, it'll be our secret,” Harry whispered furtively. She could only place a hand over her mouth, trying to hold back the laughter. He placed his hands upon her shoulders and guided her through the rest of the way to the door.

Once Hermione was out of his room, Harry turned and looked away from the door. Whatever he was just doing did not go along with his plan. He was supposed to draw away from her, not….whatever it was that he was doing. But this, this emotion felt so right, so wonderful. He never this at all last year, or something even close in the previous four. `Screw the plan, maybe something better could come. She's safe now, and happy. The two things in life that he wanted for her.' He thought as he walked over to the other door in the room.

Opening it up, he found only a black set of robes with a note tied to it and a Muggle black suit. Removing the robes from the closet, he walked to the bed and laid them across as took off the note.

Members of the family always wear black

The note was written by Dumbledore and the robes must've been placed there. Smiling Harry turned to hear the shower running, and knowing full well the wrath of Hermione Granger, walked over to one of the various bookshelves and removed a book. And to his luck, or surprise, it was on enchanting. Sitting back in the chair, his mind relaxed.

But as his mind relaxed, memories of why he was here returned. Sirius was gone, because of him. If he had listened to Hermione, then Sirius would be alive at the moment. Tears slowly began to fall down his eyes. If he only had listened to her. Why hadn't he listened to her?

“Harry?” Hermione's voice called followed by a few knocks upon the door. She stuck her head of the door, and looked around the room until she found. “Oh Harry.” She came rushing over to him, hugging him tightly. It did not fall upon either of them that she was wearing only a bathrobe.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered. “If I'd had listened to you, then he'd be alive right now. I'm so sorry Sirius.”

“Harry, it's alright,” Hermione said, as he wrapped his arms protectively around her.

“I can't lose you too because of my foolish mistakes,” Harry whispered as he drew her onto his lap. “I don't want to be alone.”

“You aren't alone.” She said, forcing him to look at her. “You'll never be alone. I'll always be there for you, when you need it Harry, I'll give you strength.” She gently kissed his forehead.

“Thank you, `Mione,” Harry whispered as she wiped the tears from his face. “Thank you.” She smiled at him as she stood up, suddenly aware how close they were.

“I'm going to finish getting ready,” she said not making eye contact. “You should take a shower.”

“Alright,” Harry said, wiping one final tear from his eyes. “Thank you for being there for me.” He smiled as the flutter in his heart grew into a steady flapping. She walked to the door, looking at him once more. He raised his eyes and caught hers, causing her to blush. He felt his face turning red too as she exited through bathroom door.

Harry waited a few more minutes before walking into the bathroom, not before grabbing the appropriate clothing. He felt embarrassed enough, clinging to Hermione like that, and did not need walking around nude to add to it. He quickly showered and dressed in the suit Dumbledore had left for him.

He walked back to his room and sat in the chair once more picking up the book he was reading before. Harry had just started reading about an amulet, supposedly enchanted to take a person to other worlds, when there was a knock on his door.

“Harry? Can I come in?” Hermione asked. Hopping up from his seat, Harry quickly opened the door.

“Sure,” Harry said with a smile. She stood in a black dress that reached her knees, but showed off her figure nicely. Her usually tousled hair was held back by a simple, yet elegant braid and she wore a veil underneath a black hat giving her a mysterious look. She wore a black set of robes open at the moment. “Wow.” Harry stood a few seconds speechless. Harry could only stare at how beautiful she looked.

“I don't look that bad do I?” Hermione asked shifting under his gaze.

“You look like a goddess,” Harry whispered before feeling his face turn red. She began to blush too. “Uh…come in,” he held the door open for her further.

“Thanks,” she said, walking into the room. “You haven't put on your robes yet?”

“Nope,” Harry said, walking back to his chair. “I figured I'd wait until Dumbledore told me it's about time to go.”

“Are you ready?” She asked, giving him a caring look. “I mean mentally?” He took a deep breath and released it.

“Honestly,” he said, looking up at her. “I really don't know. A part of me says he isn't gone, but the rational part says he is dead. I just can't help but think that maybe if I was more like you I'd wouldn't be anywhere that I am now.” She turned to give him a bewildered look.

“Me,” Hermione said in a small voice. “You want to be like me?” Harry could only smile at how cute she looked at the moment.

“Yes, `Mione,” Harry said, looking back down at the floor. “If I had seen it more analytical like you do, I would still have my godfather. Hell, if I saw life like you do I'd be better at my schoolwork, my spells, just about everything. I can't help but admire how you can sit and finish your homework in one go, instead of your mind wandering. In some sense, you're my hero.”

“W-w-what?” Hermione stuttered, sitting down on the bed.

“Your calmness, your cool-headedness, your intellect,” Harry said, counting these off on his fingers. “Your caring and kindness. I wish I have what you obviously have in abundance.”

“I'm your hero?” She asked pointed at herself.

“And usually on a good day, you pick things up pretty quickly,” Harry chuckled. “But seriously, `Mione, if I had a bit more of your attributes than maybe Sirius would still be alive now.” He looked back down at the floor at this. He looked back up to see Hermione silently crying into her hands. He immediately rushed to her side, kneeling in front of her. “What's wrong?”

“How did I ever get a friend like you?” Hermione sobbed. “I'm just a bookworm.”

“You're not a bookworm, Hermione,” Harry said, raising her chin. “You are a caring, loving, gentle, beautiful young woman. One that sees the Boy-Who-Lived for what he really is, a growing young man searching of some normalcy in his life. I have never thanked you before for helping, and now that I am, I don't think I'll ever stop.

“You bring out the good in everyone around Hermione,” Harry said, wiping a tear from her cheek.

“With problem the exception of Ron,” Hermione scoffed.

“No, at times you do even bring out the best in him,” Harry said with a smile. It turned larger as he spoke again. “I know that without a doubt that you've made such a large improvement to my life. Before the Troll incident, I would've been swamped by Hogwarts, but then you came into my life, I found someone who would help because they saw the scared little boy inside and did not care about the Boy-Who-Lived. You helped that scared little boy, and I thank you for that.” Harry stood up and sat on the bed, letting her lean into his shoulder.

A little girl's laughter and giggled pulled them out of the private moment as the little came giggling into the room. She dove underneath the bed.

“What the-” Harry started.

“Mister Potter, is there anyone in there with you?” Harry heard Serge's voice from the other side of the door.

“Sssh,” the little girl said, sticking her blonde head of hair out from under the bed. She quickly went back under, giggling.

“May I come in?” Serge asked. Harry looked over at Hermione, who still seemed to be regaining her sense.

“Yeah,” Harry said, pulling Hermione closer to him. She did not object, but rather seemed to relax under the touch.

“Thanks,” Serge said, coming in with a grey suit on. His hair was still held back by the red bandana, and the dark blue was even more present in the light room. He did not wear his glasses like he had when Harry first saw him. The gloves he wore earlier were replaced by “Did a small blonde coming running in here?” Harry heard the giggles from underneath the bed and nodded. Serge just smiled at him. “No, you sure?” Harry nodded once more, beginning to grin as well. “Do you mind if I check around?” Without waiting for an answer, he walked over to the door to the right.

“Is she in here?” He opened it dramatically and stomped his foot as he did so. “No, guess I'll have to check somewhere else.” More giggles. Serge moved toward the bathroom and pulled the same stunt, this time the giggles were louder. “Well, I'll have to look somewhere else.” He then made a big act of walking to the door, opening then slamming it shut.

“Is he gone?” The little said, poking her head out from under the bed. “Darn.” She pouted as Serge walked over to her and lifted her into the air.

“You're getting big for this,” he grunted as he lifted her.

“No too big I hope,” she smiled brightly. Serge just laughed and looked at Hermione and Harry.

“Everything okay?” Harry looked once at Hermione, who held a small smile on her face but did not move from his shoulder. He saw her mouth the words “thank you” before sighing deeply.

“Yeah,” Harry said, looking Serge in the eye. “I just finally said something that should've been said a long time ago.”

“Good, don't want any lover's tiffs now do we?” Serge said with a twinkle in his eyes. Immediately, Hermione and Harry jumped apart. Harry felt his face turn bright red, but couldn't bring himself to say anything.

“We are not dating,” Hermione said her face just as red.

“Okay,” he said. Serge gave her a questioning look before dropping the subject. “This is my daughter, Grace.” The young girl hid her face in the crotch of her father's neck. “Don't mind her, she's a little shy.”

“How old is she?” Hermione asked, standing up.

“Turning eleven this November,” he said with pride, putting her down. “She'll be entering Hogwarts this year.”

“Hi,” Grace said from behind Serge.

“Well,” Serge said, looking up with a proud smile. “She was excited earlier today when talking to Grandpa Al.” Grace blushed at this, but only hid further behind her father. “I'm supposed to tell you two to head to the library to meet with Grandpa.” He picked Grace back up with ease, not before making sure his right glove was in place. “You've got about five minutes, so if you need to finish anything hurry up.” With this he walked out of the door, not bothering to even give them a look back or close the door.

“Are you okay?” Harry asked, standing up and putting a hand on Hermione's shoulder. She turned to look at him.

“Thank you, Harry,” she said, kissing him on the check. “You have no idea how much it means to me.”

“You friendship means a lot to me too,” Harry whispered, placing his forehead against hers. The flutter in his heart began to grow, and grow and grow…

“Mister Potter, Miss Granger, down here now,” Serge's voice came yelling from the bottom of the steps.

“Guess we better be going,” Hermione whispered, not moving.

“Yeah, guess we better go,” Harry whispered back. They stood there for a few moments.

“Hey, I wasn't planning on yelling up the stairs at two love struck teenagers until my daughter hit puberty!” Serge yelled again.

“We are just friends,” Harry and Hermione both yelled, their faces bright red. They looked at each other for a moment before turning away. Now the flutter in grew to a constant flapping.

“I'll-uh-meet you downstairs,” Hermione said, not making eye contact.

“Tell them not to worry, I'll be right down,” Harry said looking back to his robes. Walking over to them, he could hear Hermione leave the room. He suddenly felt the flutter begin to lie down, but it speed up as Harry recalled everything that happened over the course of the day. It now seemed like a constant hum in his chest.

“God, why are you so cruel?” Harry said aloud to no one. “You are torturing me, placing me in this position? I wish I had someone to talk to about this.” His voice spoke with force but it was nothing more than a whisper.

Slipping on his robes, Harry made sure his wand was within reach. Although he would be unprepared with spells and such, he knew a great deal more than the year before. Dumbledore had already explained that he would be training for the remainder of the summer. He was also told he would be trained in several different areas. Looking over the room, he decided he would work his hardest this year, let nothing get in the way of his training and his knowledge.

He quickly hurried down the stairs to see Dumbledore and Serge talking to each other. Dumbledore wore a completely white set of rubes. Hermione was over by the doors to the library. She held her hands over her shoulder, rubbing them gently. He walked down the stairs and slowly walked toward her.

“You okay?” Harry asked as he approached. She gave a smile him, blushing slightly.

“I'm fine, Harry,” Hermione said, getting her arms wrapped around her. “Just nervous I guess.”

“About what?” Harry asked leaning against the table. He turned to looked at her, smiling slightly. “For me this is some closure I guess. I found a book a few days ago, talking about services and such.” She looked over at him, a shocked look plastered over her face. “What? I read things other than Quidditch Through the Ages.” Harry said with a laugh.

“What did it say?” Hermione asked, once she lost the look and started to smile a bit.

“Well, a memorial service, in the Wizarding world, is nothing more than a simple gathering of friends and family, to talk about what you knew about the man and/or woman,” Harry said looking at the floor. “I wish someone would've told me about this. I'd have liked to see the Pensive of my parents.” He looked over and smiled at him, knowing the small puddles were forming in his eyes. “There is still so much that I didn't know about them. Everything I've learn is stored here,” he placed his hand over his heart, “and I can find it anytime I want, but I want to know more.” My father couldn't have been the man that Snape showed him to be.”

“How to live your life, Harry,” Hermione said, placing her hand over his, “you didn't learn from the Dursleys.” She spat the name and he could only smile. “You learned it from here. The friendships, everything, you've learned from your parents. They live on in you Harry. Burning brightly in whatever you do in life.”

“Well put Miss Granger,” Serge said, now with Grace in his arms. She wore a black dress and Harry couldn't help but see those pale blue eyes somewhere else. “If you two are down?”

“Give them their time, Serge,” Dumbledore said chuckling. “Harry has been through a tough time, and needs to hear such things every now and then from people who care about him. Hermione is the perfect example, of someone who's care simply radiates from them.” Hermione began to blush at this. Harry mouthed a “thank you” to her giving the hand on his chest a gentle squeeze as it receded. “We best be going.” He swiftly removed a brown scarf from within his robes. “The service will begin rather soon. Everyone take a hold of it. Gracy, you made hold onto your father.”

“One moment,” Serge said, switching hand in which his held Grace. “Okay.” He reached out and grabbed the scarf with his right hand. Harry did the same and felt Hermione's hand next to his. He looked over at her, noticing the blush in her face.

“Five, four, three, two, one,” Dumbledore counted off. Harry felt the tug as he was pulled to wherever they were going. Within moments, Harry had his feet planted firmly on the ground. Looking around he found himself outside a house that looked recently built. A sense of warmth and familiarity surged over him as he took in the simple, yet elegant home.

The two-level stone house was surrounded with flowers. Looking around, the house looked settled within several trees and was near a lake. He stood letting his memories flow as he tried to decipher the origin of this house.

“Harry?” He looked over at Hermione as she began to follow Dumbledore and Serge. He quickly ran over to her, picking up her hand as she went. “This place is beautiful.”

“I know,” Harry whispered back, looking back the house and then turning to Hermione. “I feel like I could stay here the rest of my life.”

“You just might, Harry,” Dumbledore said mysteriously, causing both Harry and Hermione to look at the old man. They now stood several feet beyond the back of the house and they had stopped there.

Before them was a tall, black obelisk, looming overhead. A ring of chairs was placed within the shade of obelisk, almost directly to the left of it. Harry's eyes began to travel over the obelisk taking it all in. It stood no more than ten feet, just to Harry seemed to reach the sky.

“We can't be….” His voice trailed off as he read the small inscription on the bottom of the obelisk. His eyes began to fill up with tears.

“In Loving Memory of James and Lily Potter.” Hermione read, clinging to Harry as he fell to the ground.

“We're here,” Harry whispered to her. “The place where my parents died. Godric's Hollow.”

“It'll be alright Harry,” she whispered back. She wiped a tear off his face as her own started to fall. “Everything will be alright.”

“Little dark, don't you think?” Serge whispered to Dumbledore. Harry turned to look at them, holding onto Hermione at the same time. “I meant the obelisk. Everything I heard from them, spoke of joy and happiness. That,” he pointed toward the obelisk, “just is too gaudy.”

“Can we,” Harry looked back, taking in the words. “Can we change it to a fountain or something? I don't think I could stand seeing this ever again.”

“Your mother did have a fountain in her garden,” Dumbledore said, scratching his beard. “If you'd like we could-” Harry cut him off, standing up quickly.

“Please, that just brings back too many dark memories,” Harry said, looking once more at the obelisk. The night his parents died, the ten years he spent in a cupboard below the stairs, ten years of being alone and empty, ten years of not being loved. Tears began to fall down his face even more. He felt himself falling to his knees once more.

“I'm here Harry,” Hermione whispered to him. He felt her place his head on her shoulder as he began to cry. Cry for his parents, for Sirius, but mostly for himself. His entire life, and this was the first time, he let himself open up and feel sad or alone. But as Hermione held him close those emotions he had just found were gone, faster than they came.

“Thank you,” Harry whispered through his tears. Lifting his head up, he stared into her honey eyes. He saw that emotion that fluttered in his heart radiate from her eyes. Whatever it was, made him feel alive and well.

“Let's move over to the chairs,” Hermione said, wiping a tear from Harry's cheek. He nodded but did not move.

“Alright,” he only responded. He looked back at the obelisk for a moment or two, not sure what to do. Slowly, he stood up, pulling Hermione with him. He could not lose the warmth she gave him, the one that chased away the loneliness. Moving one arm from her shoulder, he moved it toward her waist and slowly began to walk toward the chairs.

Hermione made no noise or comment as he did this. Looking at her slightly before they sat down, she just wore a smile on her face and stared at him. “It's okay,” she whispered as they sat with their backs to the obelisk.

“Thank you,” he whispered back. He removed his hand and placed his elbows on his knees, leaning into his palms. Harry let out a sigh and more memories returned of his haunting childhood. He felt a hand rubbing circular motions into his back, easing the memories away, and looked over at Hermione.

“You better?” she asked, not stopping his small massage.

“If you keep doing that I will be,” Harry said, trying to smile, but the rush of memories turned it into more of a frown as he tried to forget them. “Why won't they leave me alone?” He thought aloud.

“Harry, what are you talking about?” Hermione said, getting him to look at her. He sighed once more before looking at the ground in front of him.

“My childhood,” he whispered. “I just want it to go away and never let me think about it again.”

“You don't have to go back there Harry,” Hermione said. “I'll make sure of it.” She said softly, Harry turned to look at her, confused.

“You say something?” Harry asked as she turned red. She shook her head but continued to rub his back. Feeling her long nails run across his back, he could not help but feel like he was in ecstasy.

“And here are the rest of the people.” Dumbledore's voice said. He felt Hermione turn to look, but she did not stop the calming massage. As long as he knew she was there, the memories seemed to withdraw.

“Don't mind if I sit here?” Serge said, taking a seat on the other side of Hermione. Harry looked over at the man and shrugged his shoulders. His mind was gone as long as Hermione worked her magic fingers.

“Go ahead,” Hermione's sweet voice rang out. The flutter within Harry's heart began to grow and grow as he tried to discern why he thought Hermione's voice was sweet. “You okay now, Harry?” He sat back up, but she moved her hand toward his shoulder instead of removing it completely.

“Yes,” he said, leaning over to kiss her forehead. “I just need someone to help me through times like these.”

“Anytime,” Hermione said with a proud smile on her face. She moved her hand from his shoulder to his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I'll always be there for you.”

Harry finally turned to look back at the coming sea of red. Looked like just about every Weasley had shown up, all of them were dressed in grey, but Ron wore black for some reason. With Ron nearly charging their way, a scowl on his face, Harry felt slightly worried. For whatever reason, the glare did not. He stared back for a moment before Dumbledore stopped them from moving any further.

“Please, start sitting to the left of the young lady,” Dumbledore said, motioning to Grace who had taken a spot next to her father.

Harry watched as one by one, the Weasleys sat down, with Mister and Mrs. Weasley being the first to take a seat. Fred and George were next, both outfitted in dragon-scale suits like they had been at King's Cross. Ginny sat next to them and sent a sympathizing look over to Harry. Bill and Charlie forced Ron to take a seat between them. Ron glared at Hermione and Harry for a moment before Mister Weasley leaned over to talk to him. Ron face turned somber, but kept his piercing glare on them both. And once again, Percy was the only Weasley missing.

Lupin and Tonks took a seat next to Charlie. Both of them were dressed in black, and it still puzzled Harry why he and Hermione were as well. Lupin gave him a smile and a look, meaning they would be talking later. Tonks smiled at them as well, but kept close to Lupin, which surprised Harry. Mad-eye Moody sat next to Lupin. Both men were sullen faced, and talked to each other quietly. Moody's magical eye concentrated itself almost only on Harry. Professor McGonagall was next and sat next to the old Auror. For the first time, Harry saw a sweet smile sent his way. On that comforted him slightly. Hagrid sat next to her, and the chair enlarged itself to fit the gentle giant immediately. His face still looked bruised but had improved since the previous year.

“Sorry I'm late,” a man in a black suit said as he ran up. His hair was tied back in a ponytail and looked remarkably like Sirius, except his hair was a remarkably dull purple. Harry shook his head trying to negate the memories in his head. A gentle squeeze on his hand from Hermione drew him away from though.

“Quite alright, Guile,” Dumbledore said with a smile. “Please take a seat next to Rubeus.” The man nodded once and walked over to the seat. “Looks like everyone is here. We shall begin then.” Dumbledore walked over and took the final seat next to Harry.

“For those that are wondering why we are here,” Dumbledore began as he sat, “we are here to discuss the memory of Sirius Black. Today is most importantly a day of remembrance and acceptance. So to big, I would like to introduce you to the man to my right, Doctor Guile Jonathon Moody.” The man stood up from his seat looking around the faces.

“Good afternoon,” he said with smile. “It begin with, I'd like you to know my history. My mother met a man she fell deeply in love with during her seventh year. They consecrated their love that year and hence I am standing before you. My mother was Alastor Moody's sister, Alice. My father was Sirius Black.” Harry looked over at him astounded. Sirius had a son? Looking toward Lupin, Harry could see the same confusion on the man's face. The only person other than Dumbledore that wasn't confused was Moody.

“From the looks of things, he never told you,” Guile sighed looking down at the ground. “I guess I should've expected this. I was told my father wasn't ashamed of me, but rather that he never knew I existed. My mother never told him that he was a father and married another later in her life. It seemed to be a family secret, and only recently was I told about my father's plight. I'm here to find out more about the man that you all knew and cared about; otherwise, I guess, you wouldn't be here today.” He sat back down and leaned back, masking any feelings he may have had.

“Any questions you may have you may ask at the end,” Dumbledore said from his seat. “Hagrid, please continue.”

Harry sat back, taking in the stories of Sirius's exploits with the Marauders as Hagrid and McGonagall spoke. Moody spoke of Sirius's Auror training and his reasons for never finishing. Harry felt glued to his seat taking in whatever was told about Sirius. He only wished to hear more about is parents as the Lupin began to talk about life outside of Hogwarts. Tonks did not speak but rather held a sadden look in her eyes. Lupin's arm stayed linked with hers as he spoke.

The Weasleys skipped directly to Mister Weasley. He spoke as the representative it seemed like of the family. He spoke of the efforts that Sirius went through to save his family members and protect them. He also spoke of the events of at the Ministry of Magic, only a few weeks early. Harry closed his eyes, trying to forget it as Mister Weasley spoke. And once more, he felt Hermione gently squeeze his hand. She seemed to know when he needed it and had not let go of it as of yet.

“Ah, well, looks like my turn,” Serge said, standing up from his seat. “My name is Serge James Thornton. Although I have no direct relationship to Sirius Black, I knew him. For those of you that don't know, but I've spent a good part of my life in Azkaban as well.” He waited for a moment or two before continuing. “I had a cell close by to his. Prison time is slow time, and apparently, he also wasn't affected by the Dementors either. So we sometimes sang songs and such especially around Christmas.” The man's eyes filled up with a joyous twinkle in them. “ Still haven't gotten over everything that went on in there,” his mood turned downcast for a moment or two before livening back up. “Anyway, we started to talk about what happened to each other. He told me about knowing James and Lily Potter, and Remus Lupin. I told him about my own family, my grandfather, Albus Dumbledore and several others.

“Who else?” Mister Weasley asked. Serge could only smile like a Dumbledore could.

“My Aunt Minerva McGonagall,” Serge said with a smile before continuing. “Back to the story, we talked about it and I knew of his escape plan.” He stood and talked for over an hour about the plan, relaying everything said between him and Sirius. Harry could not believe that all of this had happened. “I helped him go through it and waited around for another year before I was released. Thanks to testimony finally allowed into the court, I was free. And here I am.” He said with a smile. Harry saw Grace tug on Serge's coat tail once, getting his attention. He looked down at her and smiled. “Now for the reason I was placed behind bars.”

“I do hope you all know a man by the name of Lucius Malfoy,” Serge's normally smiling face turned into a scowl. “I met his wife two years after I graduated. We met in a bar, and let's just say one thing led to another and I was thrown into Azkaban because of it. Narcissa Malfoy is in fact related to Sirius, his cousin. And this little angel her,” Serge turned and lifted Grace off of her seat, “this is the joyous offspring of two people who loved each other.” Grace began to blush at this. He gave her a kiss on the forehead and with that, he sat down, placing Grace back in her seat as well.

“Thank you Serge,” Dumbledore said from his chair. “Harry would you like to add anything?” He nodded once, standing from his chair.

“Thank you,” Harry said, a lump forming in his throat. “Thank you for coming here. You have no idea how important it was to have this, seeing familiar faces and new ones,” he looked toward Guile who just nodded. “I'd don't think I'll ever be over it. No one should go like he did,” Harry looked down at the ground, silent cursing Lestrange. “Hearing friends and family talk about him today, I think has given me some closure. Enough to move on in my life. In time I hope everything should get better.

“No one could replace my father, no one. I never knew him, but he hasn't left my side since the day he left this place. My mother hasn't left since the moment I was born. No one could replace them, and I never knew them, but they are one-in-a-million. Sirius was the closest thing I have ever had to a father. He died protecting me, something he promised he would do if he had to. I wish he never had to because he brought something into this world that we all could use right now, happiness. When I was with him, I never saw him happier, but that doesn't mean he wasn't. I may not like it, and many of you may not like it, but he is the happiest he had been all his life. Heaven is pure happiness, where dreams do come true. He is back with my parents-” Harry looked over to Lupin. Lupin seemed to understand what was to come. He was given the nod of approval “-and when the time comes, the Marauders will back. The true Marauders. James Potter, Lily Potter, Sirius Black, and Remus Lupin. They were best friends, and often that is what may keep people going sometimes. The idea that friends are forever is something I am willing to take to my death.” He looked at Hermione smiling at her and then at Ron giving him the same smile, only to be scowled in return.

“When they are gone and you remain, if you remember them, talk about them, and love them, then they will never die. History turns to legend. Legend turns to myths. And myths are forgotten. But friendship - true friendship - can never be forgotten or lost. It will never die. Truth is none of us die as long as we are loved. Sirius was loved, by his friends, his family, and by me. What he has done for my life, and the lives of so many others, I will never forget. I hope you won't either. Thank you for coming here, and thank you for listening.” Harry sat back down, trying to relax. Everything he had felt, everything he had kept inside for so long he had finally let out. Upon sitting down, Hermione picked his hand up and squeezed it gently. He felt some of his courage return, thankful for a friend like her.

His heart began to flutter, and looking back, it was constantly fluttering at this point. Like a snitch that had not been caught, his heart seemed to by flying around at the moment. Just being near Hermione began to send chills down his back. What was thing wonderful, enticing, captivating emotion? Harry had never felt anything like it, before this summer and now, now he did not think he could go another day without it.

“There is one more order of business for today,” Dumbledore said with a smile as he stood from his chair. “Young Harry has asked for a slight change in scenery. I feel somewhat obligated to do so.” Turning around he raised his wand, pointing it at the obelisk “Vices fons.” He moved his wand in a diamond motion as he spoke. A white light enveloped the dark obelisk.

As the white light cleared, Harry looked on in wonder. A white marble fountain stood in the place of the obelisk. Carved at the top of it was a man and woman, the woman reading to the man as he looked up to her lovingly. Water flowed down underneath them. Around the center was a large dog, almost chasing its tail. A stag was reared up its back legs as a wolf walked aside it. The center pole at which the centerpiece was atop of was decorated with engravings of flowers and vines. Four small concrete angels were along the brim of the fountain's lowest level. The angels poured the water into the fountain even as it was coming down from the top.

“A more appropriate memorial for the Marauders, don't you think?” Dumbledore turned to look at everyone. For a while everyone sat in silence.

“I think its brilliant,” Lupin said, standing up. “They would've loved it. I love it.” Tonks stood up as well, wrapping her arms him. She pulled him into a hug, comforting the tired man. Harry knew that he and Lupin had to sit down and discuss everything that had happen, even if they could not return to Grimmauld Place.

“What do you think Harry?” Hermione turned toward him. He looked back at her and smiled, tears welling in his eyes.

“They're gone,” Harry whispered surprised at his own feelings. The pain was gone, gone from him. He could not see the memories anymore. Whether it was because of the fountain or Hermione, he did not care. They were gone for the moment. An entire day of those painful memories of living without food, clothes, and love, and for now they were gone. All that was left was this feeling of happiness. “Not forever, but they're gone.”

“That's great,” Hermione said to him, smiling widely. Harry could only respond the same as he stared into the fountain. She slipped her hand into his once more and squeezed it gently. He found it was now quite commonplace to have her hand there.

“Thank you,” Harry said, looking directly into her eyes. She gave him a puzzled look as he continued. “You know you're the only reason that I got through this all, right?” She nodded, blushing a bit.

“Why are you always saying things like that?” Hermione asked softly. Harry sat back in his chair, a little shocked by the question. He began to mentally chastise himself for keep doing things like this.

“I don't know,” Harry said, looking back at her. “If you don't like it I'll stop-”

“No,” Hermione said looking up from the ground. “I mean no, I don't mind.” She gave him a smile, one the made him grin, cheek to cheek. Harry looked away from her for a moment, to see Ron coming toward them, glaring almost.

“Harry, Hermione, can I talk to you two for a moment?” He asked with a force tone.

“Sure,” Hermione responded. Harry removed his hand from Hermione's and stared at Ron for a moment.

“Somewhere else?” He asked, looking around at everyone else. “It's kind of private.”

“Alright,” Harry rose from his seat, looking over at Dumbledore. He caught the old man's eyes for a minute. “We're going to look around for a little bit.” Dumbledore nodded and went back to a conversation with McGonagall and Serge. Before Harry left, he noticed a shocked look on McGonagall's face and a sadden one on Dumbledore's. But at the moment, his mind was going of the possible reasons that Ron had wanted to talk to them. And most of them pointed toward his jealousy of Harry.

A/N: Well, that went well. I believe that my second chapter was a total of 11, 222 words, which just about was double my first chapter. The story is flowing easily in this book now. I can still apply what I wanted to do in the previous story, just I needed to change the plot slightly. For starters, elementals will be introduced early on, but it won't be later until they are full explained. You will probably like this plot better than the other, at least I do. If you do have suggestions, I'll gladly listen to them.

For those wondering, this will be not be a Ron-bashing story, one of those lapses in my better judgment, and Harry and Hermione do get together early in this series. I'm surprised no one commented on the original characters I threw out there.

J.K. Rowlings owns HP and co. I own the OCs and the plots and some places. Thank you for all the reviews. I'm just too lazy to name you all. So thanks.

Chapter Three:

Dark Betrayal

"Whatever is begun in anger ends in shame." - Benjamin Franklin (1706-1790)

Harry walked in front of both Ron and Hermione. Although he had never been to Godric's Hollow, he could not help but feel like he understood where he was going and how to get there. Leading them down a path, Harry could somehow place a lake nearby the house. And at this point and time, he figured it would be far enough away to let them talk in peace.

Harry finally led them to a clearing with a lake to the north. It was one of the most peaceful sights Harry had ever seen. The lake looked calm and the flush forest around once added to the picturesque view. He could here a river running into the lake making a calming sound that helped his nerves as he turned toward Ron, who was still glaring at him.

“Alright Ron,” Harry said staring him down. “What did you want?”

“How long?” Ron demanded, making Hermione jump slightly.

“How long what?” Harry asked back.

“How long have you two been going out?” Ron said, rolling his eyes at him. Harry could have sworn Ron mumbled “idiot” under his breath but Harry did not comment on anything.

“We aren't dating,” Harry nearly yelled.

“Aren't you?” Ron asked, his face turning red. “You get everything don't you?”

“What are you rambling about?' Harry said as Ron began to walk forward.

“You are the bloody Boy-Who-Lived!” He yelled, poking Harry in the chest.

“And point is?” Harry said calmly. He could see Hermione becoming distressed over this, and was doing his best to keep Ron occupied on him.

“My point is you get away with everything and get all you want!” Ron yelled walking away, only to come back a few seconds later. “You get a bloody Firebolt; you got an Invisibility Cloak; you got the Marauder's Map; you have all the bloody money in the world you could ever need; you have the bloody most famous guy in the world; you can get any bloody girl in the school.” All this time, Harry held his hands at his side, balled up in fists. He kept shaking his head as Ron spoke every word bring back the memories he had fought so hard to keep at bay.

“Shut up, shut up, shut UP!” Harry finally screamed. “You don't get it Ron do you?” He stared at Ron, looking him directly in his eyes. Hazed over with anger, Ron did not even comprehend what Harry had said.

“What's there to get?” Ron crossed his arms. “You have everything; I have nothing. And now you're taking the one thing in life that I have a chance to get.”

“What are you taking about?” Harry asked, still confused at where this conversation was going.

“You and Hermione are dating now,” Ron yelled. “You stole her from me!”

“She's here own person who can decide for herself what she wants,” Harry said trying to reason with Ron. But from the look in his eyes there was no reasoning with him. “And I already told you we're not dating.”

“Bullshit!” Ron yelled at him, causing Hermione to jump once more. “I saw the way you two were looking at each other. You are not taking this from me.” Ron moved to take something out of his robes.

“Ron!” Harry and Hermione cried at once, both drawing their wands, but Ron in this moment of fury was faster.

“Imperio! Stupefy!” Ron pointed his wand toward Hermione and then Harry, who fell stiffly to the ground. “You will love me unconditional. Now why are you pointing your wand at your lover? ” Harry heard Ron speak and Hermione's wand drop; his mind began to fight off the curse. He began to regain control of his arms and legs as Ron walked over to Hermione. “Kiss me like you would only kiss your lover.” Ron's voice commanded.

Harry watched in horror as Hermione leaned forward, wrapping her arms around Ron. She gave him a seductive smile before leaning forward. Just as Harry got full control of his body, he watched as a look of clarity overcame Hermione. She quickly removed her arms and slapped Ron across the face.

“Sick pervert,” she spat, as she moved to slap him once more. Ron quickly grabbed her wrist, tightening his hold on it. Seeing Hermione wince, Harry forgot everything he knew about being a wizard and speared Ron to the ground, causing him to drop Hermione.

Standing up quickly, he ran over to Hermione checking to see if she was okay. She held the wrist that Ron had grabbed, tears rolling down her face.

“You okay?” Harry asked, picking up both of her hands in his own. Before Hermione could have a chance to respond, Ron speared Harry.

Ron, however, did not just stop there. Once Harry was one the ground, he began to be pummeled by a series of kicks and punches. Harry felt an immense pain rise in his chest as a series of blows connected with it. All the while, he heard Ron talking.

“You get everything,” Ron said as he kicked him. “So you should get these. Would go well with your ego.” Ron began to laugh more and more as he tried to hurt Harry. All of a sudden, Harry heard someone scream and the kicking stopped. Looking up, he saw Hermione on Ron's back, trying to move him away, only to be pulled off and through to ground. “Bitch.” Ron spat, before kicking her once. “Looks like I'm going have to teach you to love me after I take care of our best friend. Stupefy!” Ron pointed his wand at Hermione. Her body became ridged, but her eyes remained aware. “You don't get it, Herms do you?” Ron said. Harry tried to get up, coughing the blood as he moved to his knees. Ron gave him a swift kick to gut, causing him to cough up more blood.

“He's the reason that you got hurt last year!” Ron yelled. “He's the reason that you were petrified in our second year. He's the bloody reason those damn voice keep haunting me!” He kicked Harry a few more times. Harry heard that sound of something breaking as Ron kicked one last time. “That all ends today.” Harry looked over to see Ron pulling something that looked like a wand out of his robes. Ron knelt down next to Harry.

“I want you to beg, Harry,” Ron said, playing with whatever he pulled out from his robes. “Beg for you life. Beg and you may live.”

“What happened Ron?” Harry choked as the blood. He would not beg for his life, if anything, death would be his next greatest adventure.

“He opened his eyes to the truth,” Ron said venomously. He grabbed Harry's hair, pulling him to his knees. There a moment of silence as Ron waited, for what Harry could not understand. “Won't beg, will you? Even the Great Harry Potter is above life.”

“Death is only the beginning,” Harry said. Harry looked deep into Ron's eyes, trying to find a hint of what was controlling him. He only found a red snake slithering behind Ron's eyes.

“But for you it is the end,” Ron said, as Harry felt something sharp pierce his chest. His hands moved to his chest and he looked down at the hilt of a knife sticking out from the center of his chest.

“Stupefy!” A voice cried. Ron fell to the ground “Ennervate!” Harry's head began to get light headed as Hermione's arms surrounded him. His vision began to get foggy, but the tears falling on his face caused him to regain some of his vision.

“`Mione?” Harry asked as he felt someone move his knees out from underneath him.

“Keep him still,” a voice said. Harry's mind began to slip and the only thoughts in his mind began to be directed toward Hermione. “Damn kid, did a marvel on you.”

“Can we move him?” Serge asked, coming into view.

“No, too much damage has been done for him to be moved right away,” the voice said. Harry felt Hermione grasp his hand tightly.

“Hold on Harry,” Hermione whispered to him. “I need you. Please don't go.” Harry tried to open his mouth, but found a fit of coughing, complementary blood included.

“Go any potions in that bag of wonders?” Serge asked. As death's grasp became stronger, the more Serge looked like Harry's father.

“This isn't the time for jokes,” the voice reprimanded. “And no, no potions that would be helpful. The cut is deep, and if we remove the knife, it will create more problems. We may need to try alternatives.”

“You're not saying what I think you are, Guile,” Serge said. His voice grew serious, something very uncommon for him.

“It may be our only chance to save him and ourselves,” Guile said, now identified as the voice. “You're going to have to defend us as I tend to the rest of the injuries.”

“Defend us from what?” Hermione asked.

“Death Eaters,” Harry choked out. A searing pain in his scar began to grown. Hermione's grip grew on his hand.

“Fine,” Serge said, suddenly serious. “Give me room.” He knelt on the other side of Harry; Hermione held his hand and he heard a gasp.

Trying to concentrate, Harry watched as Serge had removed his jacket already and rolled back the sleeve of his right arm to show a glove that extend to his elbow. He removed the glove, showing a metal casing, starting right below the elbow. But at the glove came off, Harry saw the absence of any prosthetic hand. Where the hand was supposed to start, the metal casing ended and then nothing.

“Harry, I need you to stay perfectly still,” Serge said, all happiness gone from his face. At the top of the casing, Harry could see a lens lighting up. Slowly a white liquid appeared to be coming out of the lens, and Serge seemed to be concentrated hard and holding his arm steady with his left hand.

“You'll like this,” Guile said as Harry's mind began to slip even more.

“Shut up,” Serge angrily said. “I need to concentrate.” The white liquid began to take shape and soon was a hand. “Guile, I need you to pull out the knife.” A sudden sharp pain in his chest would have made tears fall down his face, but with Hermione by his side, he held in the pain. The sharp pain soon was replaced by a burning sensation. Harry looked up slightly to see the liquid had now taken the form of a hand and the white hand was placed over the wound.

“Its okay, Harry” Hermione whispered, squeezing his hand tightly. “Everything will be okay.” An explosion jolted the ground, causing Serge to lift his head up.

“The wound is clean and shouldn't bleed anymore,” Serge said, standing up. The hand turned quickly back into a liquid, and smoothly transformed into a sword. “He should be able to stand with help. Try and get him back to the house.” There was a flicker and the sword had changed color to a yellow, but it wasn't as bright as the hand that had been formed.

“Help me,” Guile said. Harry felt Guile's and Hermione's hands on his shoulders, pulling him up. Harry moaned as a pain filled his chest, but a soft touch from Hermione helped ease it. “You've got a talent in healing, Miss.” Guile said, letting Harry's weight rest on Hermione for a moment.

“What?” Hermione asked. Guile never had the chance to answer as the sound of a repeating gun echoed through the now darkened forest. Serge's sword of yellow light gave off only light and was growing stronger as it raced toward them.

“Get the hell down!” Serge yelled as he ran toward them. Immediately the light was out. Harry felt himself being pulled down as there were more gun shots. “Damn bastards got guns now.” Harry felt his head roughly hit the ground and he moaned once more.

“How do you stop that?” Hermione asked the panic evident in her voice. She now was kneeling beside him.

“You just watch out for him,” Serge said, creating a new light. This light was similar to a Muggle black light, accenting the lighter tones of the clothes. “I can deal with them, but it is going to be harder. Shame really, I just got out of prison.” The joking portion of his personality had returned, but only slightly.

“Don't you dare kill one of them,” Hermione said forcefully.

“I won't,” Serge said, a metal shaft appearing in his left hand. The color of the light had changed as well, to a dark blue this time. Immediately, two blades appeared on both ends of the shaft. Still holding the weapon, his glove floated over the casing and his right hand had reformed. “But they'll wish I did. They come any nearer to that house, I will hurt someone.” A smile grew on his face, and Harry felt Hermione flinch beside him. The blue light gave Serge the look of a dead man, and the smile only made it worse. “Guile, take this.” A glowing small black orb was tossed to him, giving the same impression as the light from Serge's “hand.”

“Alright,” Guile grasped it and a dome appeared over them. The dome itself was almost a carbon copy of the small orb in Guile's hand. “Get going.” Serge nodded once and disappeared through the dome.

“What is all of this?” Hermione asked. Harry listened, finding sometimes it was better to do that than to speak. He was beginning to understand that both Serge and Guile were gifted different ways of magic than the rest of the world.

“No time,” Guile said, standing up. Harry stood with the help of Hermione, who hadn't let go of his hand since they started this ordeal. The pain began to mount in his scar. “Boy, you're burning up.” Harry could barely make out the man taking out a small cloth and a vial. He poured whatever was in the vial onto the cloth and handed it to Hermione. “Place that on his forehead. Should help keep the fever down.”

“Alright,” Hermione whispered as she placed the cloth over Harry's forehead. Whether it was her hand being there, or the vial, it didn't matter. A cooling feeling ran over his body as long as her hand was up there.

“Can you walk?” Guile asked.

“Yeah,” Harry said, looking over at Hermione in the dim light. The small orb gave off a soft hazel light, and he found he could see her perfectly. “As long as you stay near.” He looked directly into her eyes as she pulled down the cloth. She nodded once as they began a slow walk. “Wait, what about Ron?”

“What about him?” Guile asked, staring back at Harry.

“We can't just leave him,” Harry said, trying to take a step outside of the dome. Both Hermione and Guile held him back.

“Your friend stabbed you in the chest and if not for Serge you'd be dead. You can't stand by yourself yet and there is still the probably of some internal bleeding,” Guile said sternly. “Why go back for him?”

“Because that wasn't Ron,” Harry said, straightening his stance. Although it caused him a great deal of pain, he stood straight, staring Guile in the eye.

“How do you know that?”

“Ron may be a prat at times, but that wasn't Ron,” Harry said firmly, if only to convince himself. And once more before Guile had a chance to respond to someone, they were thrown to the ground, a force hitting their dome. Harry felt the pain in his chest grow worse as he landed on the ground.

The dome was down and any protection that they had was gone. He could see the dual dull blue blades that Serge weld and moving swiftly through the forest, almost like he was fencing the shadows. Guile looked like he was out cold, blood running down his forehead. Hermione lay only a few feet next to him. Seeing the swollen lip she now wore, his anger began to build only to be released as she took a breath, which happened to be combined with a moan. Harry spotted the small black orb glowing in the darkness. Despite the growing pain in not only his chest, but his side as well, Harry crawled over to the orb, grasping it tightly in his hand, like Guile had done.

Sure enough a dome, not as bright as Guile, but a dome had surrounded them. Gathering what strength remained in him, he crawled to Hermione's side. She held the same wrist that Ron had grabbed in her other hand, both cut up. Tears were rolling down her cheeks as Harry moved next to her.

“Sssh,” he whispered as he tried to wrap an arm around her. The pain began to subside as he touched her. “We're safe.”

“It hurts,” Hermione whispered to him. “It hurts so much.” He pulled her close as his own head got heavy. “Please don't leave me.”

“As long as you don't leave me,” Harry said, pulling her into his chest.

“We have to stay awake Harry,” Hermione said through her sobs. Harry nodded, trying to keep the darkness at bay as he comforted her and held the dome up. “What about Ron?”

“You're my main concern at the moment,” Harry said, running his hand through her hair. He heard Guile groan from a few feet away.

“What the hell?” He said as he regained his composure. “How is this up?”

“I have it in my hand, sir,” Harry said, trying to keep Hermione still. She had her hand cradled between both of them, tears still falling from the pain. Although it still hurt immensely, the pain in Harry's chest had dulled slightly.

“How did you know how to make it work?” Guile asked, sitting up, rubbing his head. “Damn that's gonna be a bitch to fix.” He looked over at Harry, holding a handful of his own blood. “Well?”

“I just held it in my hands, sir,” Harry said, opening his hand up. “It's not as strong as the one you had, but it is holding.”

“Keep it going then,” Guile said, removing a cloth from his robe. “I've got to fix this cut or at least stop it.”

“Battle!” Serge's voice yelled. Guile began to laugh slightly as he applied pressure to the wound.

“Damn idiot,” Guile said, wincing slightly from his own pressure. “I'd be surprised if he doesn't get himself killed one of these days.” He began to crawl over to the two of them. “What trouble did you two get into?”

“She hurt her wrist,” Harry said as he moved Hermione slightly off of his chest. She whimpered a bit as Guile looked at it.

“Not too bad, you did break through I'm afraid,” Guile slowly released the hand and Hermione brought it back to her chest. “Think you can stand up son?”

“Not after that last hit, no,” Harry said shaking his head. Not that he wanted to at the moment. He was completely content with staying here with Hermione as she was leaning into his chest. “Why can't you fix it?”

“I would, son,” Guile tried to laugh. “But I don't have my wand, dropped it when we fell, and neither do you two. In fact, both of them are near your buddy. Can you stand?”

“I don't think I could even if I'd tried,” Harry said, not bothering to move.

“You're side's bleeding,” Hermione said, touching him. He winced under the slight touch and could see his blood on her fingers.

“I should have something…” Guile voice died off as he looked through his robes for something. “Ah, here.” He handed Hermione a vial with another cloth. “Place that against the wound, it'll disinfect it and help stop the bleeding.” Hermione nodded as she reached over with her good hand. Harry held her other; trying to make sure it did not move too much. From time to time, she still winced as she maneuvered the cloth onto the wound. Harry felt a burning sensation grow slowly in his side, but didn't make any movement. Hermione had not moved off his chest since he had pulled her onto it and he truthfully did not want her to leave.

“How long do you think we'll have to wait?” Hermione asked as Harry moved some of her hair out of her face.

“Depends on how long Serge can last out there and how many of them are there,” Guile said, lying back down. “Now you two try to stay awake as I go unconscious.” With that, Guile had looked like he had fallen into a ridged sleep, his breathing labored slightly.

“What now?” Hermione said, lying back down on Harry. She kept the cloth on his side, but Harry was holding her other hand, making sure she did not move it.

“We'll have to wait I guess,” Harry said, making sure the orb was held tightly in his hand. “How are you, besides your hand?”

“I'm fine, just a little cut up,” Hermione smiled, leaning against his chest. He wrapped an arm around her. “How about you? I'm not hurting you, am I?” She moved to sit up, but Harry's arm kept her close.

“No, Mione,” Harry said with a smile. “You just being here the pain so much easier to bear.”

“Silencio!” A loud voice yelled. Harry head snapped around, trying to figure out where it came from. The pain began to fill his head once more.

“Harry!” Harry tried to sit up, but Hermione's weight and the pain in his chest kept him down. He knew the voice: Lupin.

“Moony?” Harry tried to call out, only to begin coughing.

“Relax Harry,” Hermione said, wiping some of the blood from his mouth. “They'll find us. Serge knows were we are, and will show them that.” Harry nodded, almost letting the darkness get him, but a gentle kiss on the forehead snapped his mind back to reality. Harry opened his eyes, looking at a blushing Hermione. “You need to stay awake.”

“You wake me up like that again, I'll marry you,” Harry said, flashing her a smile. She began to blush even more. “Mione, I mean it. Seeing you hurt once more nearly killed me. You're too precious and beautiful to be hurt like you were today.” He allowed his face to move closer to hers. “I can't stand seeing you hurt again. I love you too much to see you hurt.”

“You what?” Hermione asked, tears beginning to fall down her face. Harry could only smile as he moved forward to kiss the tears away. The pain in his head began to grow, making it harder to more or even breathe.

“I love you,” Harry strained to say. His head began to get heavier and his chest had begun to fill up with pain. He never heard Hermione answer, the darkness finally took over.

* * * * *

“Please wake up,” a gentle loving voice said. “I love you too, Harry. Please wake up.” Harry began to feel the tears and weight of someone on his chest. “I love you Harry, you've got to come back.”

“Mione?” Harry hoarsely said. He opened his eyes to see her crying beside him, her right hand wrapped up. She was clinging to his arm, eyes closed with tears flowing easily.

“I love you Harry,” Hermione whispered, pulling his arm closer to her. Harry could only smile, which was the extent of his movement.

“I love you too,” Harry whispered back, watching her fitful sleep becoming calm. He began to discern the emotion that had captured his heart fully since the beginning of the summer. All he needed now was more reassurance that it truly was love.

“Glad you finally admitted it Harry,” a voice said. Harry tried to turn his head, but it felt too heavy to do so. “I'd prefer to stay out of your sight but since you seemed hell-bent on seeing me.” Serge moved his chair into Harry's line of sight.

“Where are you?” Harry asked as Serge handed him a glass of water.

“Drink that first, than we'll talk,” Serge said with somewhat of a smile. “A suppose you want to know I happened out there, right?” Harry nodded, drinking the glass slowly. “Shit, son, you start of the tough questions right away huh?” Serge sighed and leaned back in his chair. Serge was wearing the same thing had worn the night of the attack, from the looks of it, he had seen quite a bit of battle. The shirt was torn and blood seemed to be splattered at some spots, whether his or another's Harry did not want to ask.

“Well, I have a sense when it comes to people,” Serge said leaning forward in his chair. “Let me take that from you.” A bright white…thing came floating toward Harry and took the glass and placed it on the table nearby the bed. “Anyways, like I was saying I can read faces and emotions well, and I knew something was wrong with Mister Weasley, your friend. Me and Guile followed you down to the lake. We came in around the time when Hermione slapped Ron, so we figured whatever he said or did she rejected. At first we thought it was a fight between friends, you know, the kind that sometimes happen when something happens that the other doesn't accept or understand, or even what to acknowledge. But when Ron drew the knife, we tried to get there as fast as we could. The rest you know.” Serge leaned back in his chair, placing the metal casing on his right arm on his lap.

“What did you do exactly?” Harry asked with wonder. The white light still was beneath the lens in the metal casing.

“That is a story for another time and another day,” Serge said, half-smiling. “Besides, I've too got to get check by the matriarch of medicine, Madame Pomfrey. Guile does a great job too, but she doesn't trust his “shaman” ways of healing.” Serge just laughed and stood up from his chair. “I'll let Remus know that you're awake. He hasn't left since this happened.”

“How long have I been out?” Harry asked as Serge left the room.

“Long enough,” he responded. “Now there are a few others that wish to see you. One I will not allow at all, but the others are up to you.”

“Who won't you allow?” Harry asked, looking from Hermione to Serge.

“Young Mister Weasley,” Serge's smile faltered. “The one who attacked you. Until I am sure that you aren't in immediate danger or even indirect, he stays away. And before you ask why, the answer is some of us gave up more than their share to see this war end.” With that, he left the room. It was a moment or two before someone else came, leaving Harry time to reflect on what happened. Serge was holding something back, but did not want it to be known yet. Harry still wanted to know why Ron attacked him like he did.

“Harry?” Lupin said, sticking his head into the room. He drew Harry away from the questions upon his mind. “You okay?” He cautiously entered the room, and Harry was slightly surprised to see Tonks behind him. He nodded once as Lupin sat down. Even in the dim light, he looked older beyond his years. “Good, I was very worried.” He spoke with a sigh of relief. He placed a hand on Harry's shoulder squeezing it gently.

“Are you okay?” Harry asked, directing the question toward Tonks instead of Lupin.

“He'll be fine after a few days rest,” Tonks said, blushing slightly. “Now,” she sat down on the edge of the bed, between him and Lupin. “What happened between you and Ron?” Harry looked down at Hermione, dreading the question. “Serge told us that there are some complications that you'd have to explain.” Harry nodded once as he began to get feeling back in his arm.

“Ron…he attacked me with a knife,” Harry said, bring his arm closer around Hermione. “He also hurt Hermione. I'd rather not speak with him, until I talk with Dumbledore.”

“That's fine Harry,” Lupin said with a smile. “What is important is that you're safe now, and so is Hermione.” He began to chuckle. “Madame Pomfrey was only able to attend to her wrist. You wouldn't let her any nearer. She fainted when we brought you back, placed her in a separate room, and somehow, you got her in here with you. Dumbledore was in fact the one who told us to leave you together. Said sometime the comfort of the ones we love is all the medicine we need at times.” Lupin looked up at Tonks, who placed a hand over his. Harry smiled, looking down at Hermione.

“Can I ask a question?” Harry said, looking over a Lupin once more. He nodded once, as Tonks stood up from the bed. “How do you know what love is?”

“I…um…” Lupin stumbled over the words.

“Love is unexplainable Harry,” Tonks said, placing her hand over Lupin's once more. “There are sometimes emotions that only a few invoke within someone, and only one person to invoke the strongest emotions of them all. The first group is called family, and the second is your lover, your confidante, the one person you know you want to be with for the rest of your life.” She was blushing as she said all of this, and Lupin, to apparently both of their surprises, stood up and kissed her cheek.

“Harry, there are a few things that Nymphadora and I must discuss,” Lupin said, taking her hand and helping her. She began to blush even more. “If you would please excuse us.” Lupin linked their arms and together they walked out of the room. Harry looked back down at Hermione. He had seen love in Lupin's eyes as he looked toward Tonks, he was sure of it. He could only hope that was want was warming his heart at the moment.

“I love you, Mione,” Harry said softly. “And I'll stop at nothing to keep you safe. No one should harm wonderful.”

“You mean it?” Hermione asked, looking up at him. He felt a little shock go through his system; he honestly did not expect her to be awake at the moment. Tear-reddened eyes and all, Harry gazed into beauty.

“Yes,” Harry whispered. Her eyes began to get teary once more, and with what strength he had, he pulled her onto his lap. “I'll be damned if you ever leave my side.”

“Good, you two are awake,” Madame Pomfrey said, walking into the room. Harry only pulled Hermione closer as the nurse came over. “Relax, Potter, I must attend to both of your wounds.” Relaxing slightly, Harry allowed Pomfrey to give Hermione a few potions and perform a charm on her wrist. “Now for you Mister Potter.” Her face grew stern as she pulled out several vials and bottles. “There is a lot of damage that must be fixed, Mister Potter, you need your rest and must take these.”

“Can I give them to him?” Hermione asked from his lap. Madame Pomfrey looked at her for a moment before nodding. Harry relaxed; he knew Madame Pomfrey would not hurt him, but there was more surety in Hermione's hands than hers. “Thank you.” Hermione said, taking a small blue bottle. One by one, she began to give him the potions. By the time she was done, Harry felt like his throat was one fire, but his head felt much better.

“Amazing Miss Granger,” Madame Pomfrey said as she cleaned up the empty bottles and vials. “Correct order and everything, my Lord.” Madame Pomfrey began to mumble underneath her breath as she walked out the door. Hermione began to blush once more.

“My perfect prefect,” Harry whispered kissing her on the cheek. Her blush only grew deeper. They sat in silence, and Harry had never found a more comfortable one before in his life.

“So where do we go from here?” Hermione asked, leaning into Harry's embrace.

“Where do you want to go?” Harry asked, running a hand through his hair. “I feel safe here, and don't plan on going anywhere.”

“I mean about us,” Hermione turned to look at him, straddling his lap. “Where do we stand?”

“Well, if you want,” Harry said, leaning forward, “we could take this to the next level.” Her eyes began to light up as he moved closer. “And maybe you'd want to be my girlfriend?” Harry found to arms around his neck and the most wonderful taste in his mouth. By the time his system needed air, he found his body begging for more. “So is that a yes?” Harry asked slyly moving closer. Before Hermione had a chance to answer, he had captured her lips once more.

“I love you Harry James Potter,” Hermione sighed, breathing deeply.

“And I love you Hermione Jane Granger,” Harry said, planting small kisses on her cheek. “And I swear, you aren't leaving my side for the rest of my life.” Harry thought to himself as he pulled her close. He moved Hermione once more, letting her rest her head on his shoulder.

“Ah, good,” Dumbledore said walking into the room. Immediately both of them disengaged from each other. Harry risked the glance over at Hermione, noticing her blush. He picked up her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “There are some things that we muse discuss.”

“Would you like me to leave?” Hermione asked. Harry immediately sent her a pleading look, squeezing her hand tighter. He answered before Dumbledore was able to.

“Whatever Dumbledore has to say, he can say in front of you,” Harry said, removing his hand from hers and wrapping his arm around her shoulder. “I need you.” He whispered softly to her before kissing her cheek. Hermione began to blush as she settled back onto the bed.

“It is better if you stay, Hermione,” Dumbledore said sitting in the chair on the side of the bed. “There is something that I hope that Harry can help you deal with.”

“What, sir?” Hermione said, a worried expression filling her face.

“There are several things that must be told to you today,” Dumbledore said leaning forward. “The first is good news. You know that your mother is adopted correct.” Hermione nodded her head, looking at Harry, then the professor. Harry could only look at her, in wonder about another fact he had not known about her. “She never found out who her biological parents were did she?” She shook her head once more.

“Why do you want to know, sir?” Hermione asked with uncertainty.

“You have met your Grandmother countless times, Hermione,” Dumbledore said with a smile. “In fact, she has helped you quite often with some of your own problems, if I'm not mistaken.” She gave him a baffled look. “She is also your head of your house.”

“No,” Hermione said, placing her hand over her mouth. Harry looked at her, puzzled slightly.

“Yes, Professor McGonagall is your grandmother,” Dumbledore said with a smile. “And not only that, but she is also Serge's aunt, from his maternal side.” Harry looked back at Dumbledore.

“That would mean Serge is your mother's cousin,” Harry said, looking back at Hermione. “This is way to confusing. How are you holding up?” Small tears of joy were falling down her face. She wore a small smile on her face.

“Mum's mum is alive,” Hermione said, grasping onto Harry's shirt. Joy looked like it was bursting from her face. “Oh, I have to owl her. She's been dying to meet her since she was born.” She looked over at Dumbledore who had seemed to show his age once more.

“There is something else,” Dumbledore said with a sigh. Harry moved his arm around her protectively, knowing a bomb was about to be dropped. “This morning, we were informed that there had been an attack upon a Muggle residence. The three Muggles that lived there have gone missing.” Boom. Harry could see the tears beginning to form in her eyes. “Hermione, I'm sorry to say but-”

“No!” She sat up abruptly. “No it can't be true! Check it again; check it a hundred times more. My family isn't missing!” She screamed as the tears ran down her face. Harry pulled her back into his embrace, allowing Dumbledore to continue.

“I sent my most trusted man,” Dumbledore said. He removed his half-moon glasses and rubbed his eyes. “And he reported to me directly.” He opened his eyes and looked at both of them, but Hermione kept her head turned into Harry's chest. “There is much of our family history that you will have to understand. In time, everything will be told to you both. But right now, Harry, I want you to look after her.” Harry kissed Hermione's head softly before looking at Dumbledore once more.

“She'll be treated like nothing less than a princess,” Harry pulled her closer to him as he tried to comfort her. Dumbledore clapped a hand on Harry's knee before standing up.

“I am sure that you have realized that you are back in your room at my home,” Dumbledore said as he stood. “The Weasley's are here as well, as several Order members. You may stay in your room as long as you like, food will be delivered for both of you.”

“Thank you sir,” Harry said, moving all of his attention to the woman in his arms. “Everything will be alright.” He said, running a hand through her hair. “I'm here for you `Mione.” He pulled her head up to look at him. He began to search her reddened eyes. He saw pain, and the one emotion he knew too well: loneliness. “You are not alone, Mione. I'm here with you. I told you, I'm here.” He pointed at her heart. “And here I'm going to stay. The moment you said `I love you' to me, the moment my heart locked you within it. It probably has been locked in there longer, but only now did I see you the way my heart has known you for my entire life.” Hermione began to shed more tears, but her eyes shone bright with compassion and love.

“You mean it?” Hermione asked, wrapping her arms around him. Harry nodded, kissing her lightly on the lips. “You won't leave me?”

“No force on earth can take me from your heart,” Harry said choosing his words carefully. He knew she was now under threat from Voldemort, and he would do everything in his power to keep her safe, but his powers were not strong enough at the moment. But time always leads to change.

“Thank you,” Hermione said, tears still rolling down her face. She leaned her head against his chest

“Let's go to bed,” Harry offered. “We can talk more about this in the morning.” They pulled the covers out from underneath them and Harry slid in first then Hermione. He wrapped his arms around her protectively, pulling her closer. Despite her sniffling, Harry felt her breathing relax and finally her sleeping on his chest. “I'm here for you `Mione.” He kissed her forehead as best as he could, feeling her move into it.

Harry lay away for a long time, watching Hermione sleeping. Soon, he had memorized everything about her face that he did not already know. He found himself loving this, lying there with her sleeping on his chest as he held her close. “You were there for me when I need you Mione, and now, heaven and earth will be moved before I leave you side when you need it.”

Time slowly passed by and by the time Hermione awoke, it was close to supper time. Hermione's eyes no longer held a tired look to them, but still red and beautiful. She gave him a small smile as she stretched, followed by a confused look.

“Were you here the entire time?” Hermione asked, as he wrapped his arms around her once more.

“Where else do you expect me to be?” He said with a smile. “I told you I'd never leave you, and I never will.” Hermione began to blush at this, but clung to his chest.

“I don't want to go out there yet,” she said into his chest. Harry slowly began to play with her hair, running his fingers through it. “I want to be safe. I want to be with you.”

“You are safe,” Harry said to her. “And you are with me. I'm not going anywhere without you from now on.” He chuckled to himself slightly. “Dumbledore even said he could have food delivered up here if you wished.” She looked up at him with expecting eyes. “Alright, we can get some if you wish.” She nodded, returning to Harry's chest. “Just wonder how we are going to get it?” Harry thought to himself as played with her hair once more.

“Dobby will be pleased to help you,” the small house elf said with a “pop.” Hermione turned out of Harry's chest to look. “Don't worry, miss, Dobby's gets paid.” Hermione smiled slightly and turned back into his chest.

“We'd like some dinner,” Harry said as he felt her release a sigh.

“Dobby will get that for you some dinner,” with another “pop” the small house elf disappeared. They lay in silence one more, as Harry began to play with her hair. It was only a matter of minutes before a tray appeared on the table in the room.

“Come on, Mione,” Harry said, sitting up. “Dinner's ready.” She nodded but did not lessen her grip around his body. “Fine, will you at least sit up.” She nodded and drew her body closer as Harry helped her sit up. “Now, Accio tray!” the tray gracefully floated over to them, and landed beside Harry.

He noticed the two plates with sandwiches fixed on them as well as smaller plates with pumpkin pie on them. Two glasses of Butterbeer were also on the tray. He picked up one of the plates and pulled Hermione onto his lap with his other arm.

“Open wide,” Harry said, lifting the sandwich to Hermione's mouth. She gave him an incredulous look, but did as she was told. Harry moved the sandwich closer allowing her to take a bite of it. Harry could only chuckle as she grabbed the sandwich herself and started to finish it.

“I'm not a child,” she said between bites. She glared at him, to which he could only give her his knock-out grin. Her glared melted off her face as she continued to eat.

“I know,” Harry said, taking a bite of his own sandwich. “I feel like pampering you.” She began to blush as he pulled up a glass of pumpkin juice.

“I think I'll let you pamper me later,” she said in a whisper as she made a grab for the glass. He pulled it back, careful not to spill any. She gave a sigh, knowing he would not let her win this. “Just as long as you stay close, I think I'll be fine.” She said before sipping the glass as Harry held it in his hand.

“Well, I'm not going anywhere,” Harry said, placing the glass down and kissing her lightly on the lips. He could still taste the pumpkin juice on her lips. “I love you, Mione. I'll protect you forever.”

“I will protect you too,” Hermione said, forcefully gazing at him. “I'll be by your side Harry through everything. As far as I know, I've lost everyone in my family, everyone that I know. I may have a grandmother and a second cousin, but I don't know they well enough to call them family yet.” Harry felt her pull him closer, burying her head in his neck. “I'm going to follow you to the ends of the earth if it takes that much, I can't lose you too Harry, I just can't.”

“You won't Mione,” Harry said, feeling the tears on his neck. “I'll beat him. Not for the world, but for you, so you and I can be together in peace.” He turned and picked up one of the pies. “Now, back to the pampering.” He smiled widely as she moved out of his neck. “After we finish, we'll get a book and read together.”

“I really don't feel like reading right now,” Hermione said, looking at him. She brought a hand up and ran it through his hair. He winced as she moved toward the back. “You've got a nasty bump.” She finally looked at him. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I'm fine,” Harry said, moving the pie toward her. “Now eat up.” Hermione began to blush as she ate the pie out of Harry's hands.

“Are you every going to let me do anything for myself?” Hermione asked as he leaned closer. He smiled, ignoring the question.

“You've got some pie, right there,” Harry said, kissing the spot. He moved toward her lips, softly and tenderly. He felt her release a small moan, but then quickly pulled back from him.

“No, Harry,” Hermione said, leaning into his embrace as he held out his arms. “I'm sorry, I just can't…I'm just-” She broke down in sobs.

“Hermione,” Harry said, lifting her head to look at him. “You are the one who decides how far we'll take it, alright?” She nodded, leaning back into his chest. “I'll be here for you, forever and longer.”

“I just want to-” Hermione started to speak, but Harry hushed her.

“And I just want you,” Harry said, running his hand through her hair. “And if you want to take it slow, we'll take it slow. Now,” he waved his hand, and the tray gracefully floated back to the table. “What book do you want?”

“I just want to sleep,” Hermione snuggled closer to Harry. He smiled and wrapped his arms back around her.

“Then we will sleep,” he said as he slide them beneath the covers.

“You're better than a teddy bear,” Hermione said through a yawn. Harry smiled as he too closed his eyes. The nightmares resided as Hermione snuggled closer and he found the flutter in his heart. He found the emotion he had searched for his entire life: love.

A/N: Well, that was fun. That chapter was about 7,668 words. The last part of the chapter was mainly fluff, but there is more to the world than meets the eye. Anyway, J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter and co. and I happen to own what she doesn't. I would like to point out that Dumbledore is uniquely like President Eisenhower. Both men defeated great evils, in Eisenhower's case it was Hitler, are grandfather figures of men and also have the twinkling blue eyes, carefree and kind. This is my own observation, nothing more. I just thought it would be fun to see what you all thought about it.

I've been told I need to show more of Hermione's side. I like to continue points of view until the end of a chapter but at because as the spirit moves me, so do I move the point of view. I write what I feel like and if the point of view changes, so be it. I may even have to do an ominous point of view, encompassing both Harry's and Hermione's emotions in one swing.

Warning! Warning! I'm not being political correct. I'm writing about religion, more so Harry's involvement and commitment to it. Warning! Warning!

What do y'all think of my quotes?

I appreciate the reviews. Thank you all.

Chapter Four:

Anger under Compassion

“Do not meddle in the affairs of wizards, for they are subtle and quick to anger.” J. R. R. Tolkien

Harry awoke to someone trailing their fingers over his chest. He slowly opened up his eyes, finding Hermione lying on his chest. He let her stay there for a while, seeing if she would do anything else.

“I love you Harry,” she said, beginning the trail of fingertips once more. Harry shivered under the slightest touch she gave him. “I don't think I'll ever be as strong as you. I know what you have to do, and I know what you are going to go through. I just wish that I could be there with you, if only to comfort you before have to go.”

“Mione, you are the strongest witch I know,” Harry said, sitting up, and pulling her closer.

“You're awake,” she said, her voice full of surprise. She picked up his glasses and handed them to him. He smiled as he put them on.

“Yes,” Harry said, kissing her forehead. “And if I had to choose someone to stand by me in the end, where time stands still, I would choose you.”

“Why?” Hermione asked him, staring deeply into his eyes.

“Because there are things more important than books and facts,” Harry said, smiling at her. “I may learn how to defeat Voldemort, but I don't believe I would have the confidence to do so without you at my side. I need you Hermione; you are my rock, my sunshine, my moonbeam.” She blushed as she sighed into his chest.

“I don't want to go anywhere today,” she said, as he played with her hair.

“Then we'll stay here,” Harry said. “Now, would you like to shower first or would you like me too?”

“Will you wait outside for me?” she asked with pleading eyes.

“Anything for my Mione,” Harry said kissing her head once more. She giggled, smiling.

“I like that,” she said softly. “Come on.” She sat up on his chest. “Why aren't you sitting up? I'm not going anywhere without you.”

“I really can't,” Harry said making his smile grow larger.

“Why not?” Hermione said, her hand running through his head. “Your head hurt?” Harry just chuckled as he shook his head. “Does your chest still hurt?”

“No Mione,” Harry said, trying to contain his laughter.

“Well, what is it then?” She asked, in her bossy tone.

“You're sitting on me, and I don't want to hurt you when I sit up,” Harry said with a smile. She began to blush and she moved off of him. “Thank you,” Harry said sitting up. He moved his feet toward the end of the bed and stood up, only to feel the blood rush to his head.

“Harry!” Hermione said, her arms were around him as he sat back down. “Are you okay?” He had his hand up to his forehead, trying to stop the throbbing inside. He nodded once, not daring to speak. “Stand up,” she said, getting off the bed. “I said stand up.” He looked up at her, quizzically. “I'm helping you over to the bathroom.”

“But I thought you were showering first,” Harry said, trying not to turn his head. The throbbing was just beginning to subside as he sat, rubbing his temples. He felt his hands slapped down and two calming and soft hands replaced his. He let out a moan as the pain and throbbing began to decrease.

“You are walking there with me,” Hermione said, as he looked up at her. Hers were the hands that lessened the pain. “You are going to wait for me to finish my shower, and then I'll wait for you to finish yours.” Harry nodded as her healing hands continued it's magic. “Now, stand up.” She commanded.

“Why do you think you can boss me around?” Harry asked, staying seated.

“Because I could before we started to date,” Hermione said with a beautiful smile. Damn that beautiful smile; it could make him do anything. “Now, stand up.” Harry did so laughing. Hermione kept a strong grip on his hand as he stood and wobbled a bit. She helped keep him steady, as he gained enough sense to put an arm around her waist. “See that wasn't so hard.”

“Easy for you to say,” Harry mumbled as they started to walk. He only took small steps in fear of what might happen if his head spun again. That and he wanted to hold onto Hermione for as long as possible. Hermione just smiled at him as they walked to the door.

“You wait here,” Hermione said, pointing to a comfortable chair. “I'll be out sooner than you think.” She kissed his forehead and helped him into his chair. “Stay.” She said firmly.

“Yes, Mione,” Harry said smiling as he picked up the book on the table next to him. It was the same one about enchantments. He kept being drawn to this book, for reasons he could not explain. Sighing, he began to read, waiting the time when Hermione would return, which he hoped would not be long.

Some small wishes come true, and Hermione was out sooner than he had expected. She was wrapped in a terrycloth robe and drying her hair as she walked over to him. “You're turn.” She said with a kiss to his forehead. She picked up his hand and helped him toward the bathroom. “Don't hesitate to call me if you need anything,” Hermione said as he closed the door behind her.

“Yes, Mione,” Harry said, walking slowly. As much as he appreciated the offer, he honestly did not want her to help him shower. He did not want to be an invalid.

The shower took him longer than he expected. The cut on his head stung as the hot water hit it, forcing him to take a very cold shower. But even the cold water did not stop the pain exploding in his chest. It took everything He still could not move fast and his head spun if he did so. It was a problem drying himself, especially the bandages on his chest and head. He was thankful Hermione could not see them; both look like they had bleed through the bandages. The pain on his side was long gone; it had been the first to be fully healed, though he could not figure out how. Sighing, Harry put the terrycloth robe on over his boxers as he walked back into the room.

Hermione sat, her legs dangling over the arm of the chair, reading the book. She had a smile on her face and twirling a lock of hair in a finger. He walked slowly over to her, knowing she would yell at him if he moved too fast. Not that he could, but that was beside the point. That and Harry just wanted to take in her beauty with each step he took. And with each step, a smile grew wider on his face.

She finally looked over at him, surprise mingling with the happiness and joy. Harry found an extra hitch in his step after that, walking slightly faster. The only problem was, he had not even gone three steps before the throbbing returned to his head.

“Harry!” she said, hopping off the chair and over to him. “You have to be careful.” Her arms were around him, holding him tightly. “I can't lose you.”

“I'm fine, Mione,” Harry said, trying to smile, but it only turned out as a grimace. She glared at him, helping him stand back up.

“Now back to the chair,” Hermione ordered. “I'll have Dobby get us some breakfast.” She helped him walk back to the chair and he finally was able to notice the book she was reading: Healing for the Hopeless: A Book for Beginners..

“Why are you reading this?” Harry asked, lifting the book off the table.

“I've been thinking about what Guile said, about me being good at healing,” Hermione said, moving Harry's hands so she could sit on his lap. “And I want to be able to help you when you hurt yourself, instead of always running to Madame Pomfrey.” Harry smiled, loving that he could actually hold this angel in his lap.

“Is someone jealous?” Harry mocked, earning a glare from her.

“No,” she said picking up the book, and marking her page. “I just want to help you, in anyway I can.”

“And I love you for that,” Harry said, kissing her lightly on the lips. “I'm content right now.” He leaned back, pulling Hermione with him.

“Why?” Hermione asked.

“Because for the first time in my life,” Harry said a smile widening. “I know that someone believes in me, and I have the surest proof there is under God.”

“I've always believed in you,” Hermione said insulted.

“But I didn't always believe it,” Harry countered, forcing her to calm down. “Until yesterday, I never had proof that my heart would recognize as true that someone believed in me. Hermione, there is no worse feeling than when nobody believes in you. Nothing.” Harry said, closing his eyes, remembering his childhood. Years in a cupboard, years of malnutrition and lack of love. “I can't take any other minute of it Mione. Just you being here with me makes all the difference in the world. You have no idea how high my heart flew when I saw you before the memorial service.”

“Harry…”Hermione said, taking his head in her hands.

“Please, let me finish,” Harry said, wiping a tear from his eye. “You don't know much about my childhood, because I have never wanted to talk about it before.” She nodded, letting him stare at her with glazed eyes. “I lived for most of my life inside of cupboard, with barely any food and clothes too large for an elephant. My Uncle routinely berated me verbally and sometimes even hit me. My cousin regularly hit me or tried to beat me up. My Aunt was just there.”

“Oh, Harry,” Hermione said, wiping the tears now easily sliding down his chin.

“I can't go back to that, Mione,” Harry whispered, trying to maintain some of his composure. “I can't go back there. Not again. Please don't make me go.” For the first time, in his life, Harry acted like the small child he never was allowed to be. Crying and holding dearly to Hermione, he begged and pleaded her not to send him back. He found his heaven, and he could not leave it; Harry was sure if he did, it would kill him.

“You're not going back,” Hermione whispered, trying to comfort him. “You're home is here, with me.” She picked his head up and forced him to stare at her. “You're my home, and I'm yours. Where you go, I go. I'm not letting you out of my sight for the remainder of my life, Harry James Potter. I love you damn it and I will not let you be hurt again.” Tears joined his as she held his face.

“I love you Mione,” Harry said, pulling her closer. He wiped the finally few tears from his eyes before smiling. “Thank you for being here.”

“I'd do anything for my Harry,” Hermione said, wiping a stray tear off his cheek.

“Your Harry?” He asked, trying to hold back the laughter.

“Yes my Harry,” Hermione said proudly. “My Harry that will become the world to our children.”

“Children?” Harry asked, surprise and fear mounting in his voice.

“Yes,” Hermione said with a mischievous smile. “We are going to have lots and lots of children, ones that will have the best life love can give them.”

“Well, if we are going to have children,” Harry said, finally regain some sense, “then I'll have to get you an engagement ring.”

“Harry, I was just kidding,” Hermione said, blushing madly.

“You think I was?” Harry said with a large smile. “When the feeling moves me, you will find your engagement ring on your finger. It may be a few years, it may be a few days, but know this, Mione. I love you, forever ever and ever.” Her eyes clouded over, and a smile rose on his face. “Now, what do you want to do today?”

“How about get dressed?” Hermione offered, but Harry only tightened his grasp around her.

“I don't think so,” Harry said with a large smile. “You are staying in the robe for the rest of the day.”

“What?” Hermione said, surprise, rising across her face.

“The world can wait a day, but today is ours,” he placed his head on her terrycloth-covered shoulder. “And today, we are going to relax and let the world go on. No Voldemort, no worries, just love.” He felt her place her head over his.

“For a while, maybe,” Hermione said, running her fingers through his hair. He melted even further into her embrace. “You know I only have my underwear on underneath this right?” Harry nodded with a smile.

“I only have my boxers,” Harry said with a smile. “Now, let's just be with each other.” He drove his head further into her shoulder, loving the soft vanilla smell.

“Alright Harry,” Hermione said, continually running her hands through his hair. “But can we at least go back to bed.”

“If you want to,” Harry said, not really, caring as long as he could stay near her. She stood up from his lap, taking his hand with her. He moved her so he could immediately wrap his hand around her waist. Pulling himself up slowly, he immediately wrapped his arm around her waist for balance. Slowly, they began to walk toward the bed, and with help, Harry got in first, followed by Hermione. She snuggled up to him, resting her head on his chest.

“I really could get used to this,” Hermione said, as he began to slowly rub her back. “A little lower please,” she said as he slowly began to scratch her back. He complied, smiling at her closed eyes as she moved into his hand. “Thank you.”

“Feels good?” Harry asked, scratching right above the small of her back. She nodded with a smile secure on her face. “What would you like for breakfast?”

“Mmmm,” Hermione just said as he continued the small massage.

“I'll just summon Dobby,” Harry said with a smile. Within moments of speaking, a tray of food had appeared on the table, steaming hot. “Thank you, Dobby.” Harry yelled as Hermione began to entangle her legs with him.

“Keep working,” she mumbled as he wrapped his other arm around her. “Breakfast can wait.”

“Alright,” Harry said with a smile. He was sure he could spend the rest of his life, looking at her with the content and safe look on her face as she hugged him.

“Quit stalling,” she mumbled into his chest. He slowly began to run his hands up and down her back. She sighed once more, and before he could say anything else, was asleep in his arms.

“I love you Mione,” Harry said, with a smile as he rested his head in her hair. Slowly he too drifted off to the sureties of sleep.

* * * * *

Harry awoke with Hermione still nuzzled on his chest. He could feel her gently breathing through the robe and smiled to himself, as he began to rub her back once more. She sighed again as he began to play with her hair in his other hand.

“Hello heaven,” Harry whispered to her. He looked up at the ceiling. Although he never had been one for religion, now seemed like the best time for any. “I think I've died. I must've because you've got to be the sweetest angel in the world.” He looked down at Hermione, kissing her head. “I just pray you won't send me away, God. I need her. You're sent me Sirius, Remus, the Weasleys, and Hogwarts. I think I could live without them, but please, I beg of you, don't take her away from me. She's all I really have left in my heart.” He looked down at Hermione, caressing her cheek. “You've given me a gift, God. Until she came into my life, I honestly didn't believe you existed. But the moment, when I met her on the train my belief flew out like the phoenix rising from the ashes. I want to thank you for sending her to me. I know she's the one. I just have one request of you; one and I'll never bother you again.

“I want you to keep her safe,” he said as he looked back down at Hermione. “She's my princess, a new one that I just thought of. One of these days I'll write them all down, but I know she'll find the list.” His smile grew on his face, thinking about Hermione's reaction. “I just want her to be with me. Please don't take her away from me. Keeping her safe is keeping me sane and safe. Knowing she is alive is like wining the Quidditch Cup for your house. Knowing she is happy is like all is right in the world. Knowing she loves me is worth more than life itself God. I haven't felt like this, about anyone. My parents and Sirius are gone, I accept that. She helped me through that.” He swelled with pride for some unknown reason but continued, undaunted. “Remus is all I have left of my parent's lives, and I know he loves me, but Hermione, she does wonders for me. You know that right? Life wouldn't be worth it if she weren't here. So my first and final request of you is to keep her alive and well for a very, very long time. Thank you for listening.”

Harry looked back at the resting form of Hermione. She still seemed at peace, making him feeling ever better about every word he had just said. Relief flushed his body as he relaxed and began to run his fingers up and down Hermione's back once more.

“You really should warn a girl,” Hermione mumbled into his chest. She wrapped her arms around his neck. “I think Guile was lying, you've got the magic fingers.” She began to play with his hair, sometimes lightly touching his neck, sending chills down his body. Harry tried to smile, but memories of why they currently were sharing a room flooded his mind.

“We have to talk about it Mione,” Harry said.

“About what?” Hermione said, snuggling further into his embrace.

“About the pain you're holding in,” Harry said, lifting her slightly so she would look at him. “About what you are feeling right now.”

“I don't want to talk about,” Hermione pouted, trying to drive herself deeper into his chest.

“You have to Hermione,” Harry said, pulling her up onto his chest, despite the pain in brought him. He pulled her so she was completely on top of him, her back on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her waist. “You have no idea how much just talking to you about Sirius helped me get over everything. Now, I'm going to help you.”

“They can't be gone, Harry,” Hermione whispered, turning around to lie on her chest.

“They aren't,” Harry said, knowing what her fears truly spoke of. “They are not dead.” He said forcefully, making her flinch. “Do you feel an emptiness in your heart?” She shook her head. “Only a fear?” She nodded before resting her head. “Then they are alive, Mione.” She looked at him quizzically, but did not say anything. “When Sirius when through that veil,” Harry started, trying to keep the tears at bay. It still seemed a very hard topic to talk about. “I felt cold, Mione, and empty. I still feel cold and empty at times when I try to think of my parents. But with you here, there is a beat of life my heart never knew before.”

“They're alive,” she whispered as he felt her tears falling through the gap of his robe. “Thank you.” She whispered looking up at him, smiling through her tears. “Maybe, we go to Dumbledore's library today.”

“But that would mean you'd have to get dressed,” Harry said mischievously. “And I happen to like you like this.” He saw the blush cover her face despite hiding it in his chest. “You do know you're beautiful right?” She looked up at him, the blush deep on her face. She shook her head, smiling slightly. “Well then, my princess, I'll have to tell you every day for the rest of our lives.”

“Thank you,” Hermione said, her face retreating back to his chest.

“You are beautiful,” Harry said kissing her forehead. “What would you like to do, beside leave this room?”

“We really should leave this room Harry,” Hermione said, sitting up slightly with her elbows on his chest. “We need to talk to Ron.” Harry just nodded and closed his eyes. “Also, Madame Pomfrey has to give you your potions for today and reapply the bandages.” He felt her open up his robe to look at the bandage on his chest. “Harry! Why didn't you tell me it was this bad?”

“Don't worry, Mione,” Harry said, opening his eyes to see her getting off of him. “Where are you going?” He said up, seeing her moving away from him slightly.

“I was hurting you,” she stared at his chest. “Why didn't you tell me?”

“Because it didn't hurt,” Harry chuckled honestly. He rolled onto his side, trying to take her hand only to have her pull it away and get off the bed. She began to walk to the door. “Please don't leave Mione.”

“I need to get Madame Pomfrey immediately,” Hermione said, opening the door and closing the door quickly. He surprised at the speed she was moving across the room at.

Harry probably registered it more, had his head not gotten heavy and the room not started spinning. He vaguely heard someone running up the stairs, or rather several elephants. He could not decide. But he knew his head was beginning to pound and it was only made worse. The pain increased as did the loneliness. He felt his guilt pulling itself out of the depths that he had sent it too. In seconds his head began to fill of the guilty words that plagued him before the memorial.

“It's my fault,” he whispered as Lestrange's evil laughter echoed through his mind. The picture of Sirius falling into the veil with a combination of a smile and surprised was burned into his irises. “It's my fault.” He whispered once more, as the guilt and dizziness became too much, and fell unconscious.

* * * * *

“Harry!” Hermione said running back into the room after calling for Madame Pomfrey. Harry's bandage was bleeding profusely and looked like it had been for some time. She did not want Harry to be hurt anymore than he already was, and thought that she had caused him pain. She cared for him deeply and never wanted to see him hurt again.

“What is wrong with him now, Miss Granger?” Madame Pomfrey asked, with Dumbledore behind her.

“Harry's bandages are soaked through,” Hermione said, trying to control her fears. She led them back to the room, expecting Harry to be looking at her, only to find him, lying unmoving on the bed. The blood was clearly seen through the robe that he wore. “Harry!” She screamed, as she ran over to his side. “I'm sorry,” she sobbed into his chest as she felt a strong set of arms attempt to pull her away.

“Relax,” Dumbledore's voice said. She just gripped onto Harry's robe tightly, shaking her head. “Poppy shall take care of everything.” Hermione only increased her grip on his robe.

Through her tears, she watched Madame Pomfrey removed the soaked bandage and poured a boiling clear liquid onto Harry's chest. Hermione watched as his chest was thrown forward and smoke began to come off the wound. “Harry!” She screamed as Dumbledore pulled her back even further. Her hands slipped out of Harry's robes and she felt herself turned away.

“Relax, child,” Dumbledore said, wrapping his arms around her. Hermione just grabbed onto the man.

She could not lose Harry; she just could not lose someone that important in her life. His face was so pale and he felt limp when she grasped onto Harry's robe. She vaguely heard another hissing sound. Turning to look out of Dumbledore's robes, she saw water being poured onto Harry's chest, getting rid of the caked blood and excess potion.

“He'll need his rest,” Madame Pomfrey said, as she began to place a new bandage over the wound. “For a long time perhaps, but with any luck, he'll be well enough to start his training in a few weeks.” Hermione looked over at her quickly then turned to Dumbledore.

“Harry has requested that his training to better himself for the coming battle with Thomas Riddle,” Dumbledore said. He helped her sit back down on the bed. Hermione ran through her list of names to remember, mental kicking herself for placing the name so low on the list.

“Voldemort, sir,” Hermione said. She looked over at Harry as he grew a childlike look on his face. Madame Pomfrey changed the bandages on his head and already given him several more potions. “Can I participate, sir? I mean, I really want to be there at Harry's side. Not when he's fighting Voldemort because Lord knows he's not letting me anywhere near that battle, but can I help in the ones leading to the final battle? I'd do a really good job and I-”

“Yes, Hermione,” Dumbledore said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I knew that you would want to and have already planned separate but just as important, training for you. I also believe that something very important was discovered today.” His eyes began to twinkle wildly.

“What?” Hermione asked. She had been looking at Harry and was not paying attention.

“You must stay with Harry while he is recovering,” Dumbledore said. She nodded, trying to hold the smile at bay. She would be able to sleep with Harry as long as he was recovering. She loved the idea of being so close to him. “Your training will be directed mainly in healing techniques but you also will learn a great deal of dueling techniques as well. Now, both of you get some rest.” He patted Hermione's shoulder and left with Madame Pomfrey.

“I'm here for you Harry,” Hermione said as she crawled into the bed. She picked up his hand, thankful for the warmth coming from it. She finally began to relax, and her fears subsided as she lay down next to him. “Everything will be okay,” she whispered. She gently ran her fingers across his forehead, pushing away some of his hair.

“It's all my fault,” he whispered. Hermione let a breath as his eyes slowly fluttered. Only hours before he was comforting her on her worries and now it was her turn to help him. She removed his glasses and placed them upon the bed table.

“I'm here for you Harry,” she said as she turned back to him. She lifted his head slightly and felt him winced just a much. “What happened?”

“You left me to my thoughts,” he grumbled. His anger was quickly replaced by tears. “I told you I couldn't be alone. Why didn't you believe me?” Hermione felt the tears swell in her eyes.

“I'm sorry,” she whispered back, knowing his fears. “I just wanted to get you the help.”

“Please don't leave me again,” he said, closing his eyes. “Not now, not when I'm like this.” She nodded, as the tears fell off her face. It hurt her so much to see him like this.

“Never again,” Hermione said. She slide beside him and cuddled up next to him. It hurt her so much to hear him speak with such pain and hurt. Even if it was in his best interest, she had hurt him by leaving him alone. “I'm here for you.” She slipped her hand into his robe, placing it on his stomach. It felt so good to be touching him like this, and yet it made her uneasy. She had never touched a boy like this, and it felt so natural it was scary.

Harry was the first boy that treated her like a princess. Krum had only treated her like a prize or some political wife. With Harry, she knew where she wanted to be, and with Krum, only confusion reigned in her mind. Harry calmed her down beyond belief and Krum made her nervous and anxious for Harry to return. She began to lightly tap her fingers on his stomach when he moved his hand over hers.

“Tease,” he coughed. Fear creep back through her as some blood rippled down his chin.

“Are you sure you are okay?” Hermione asked, wiping the blood up with her sleeve.

“As long as you stay with me,” he responded relaxing as she began to trail her fingers across his chest. “I'm just tired, so tired.” She slid his robe off his arms and let it lay beneath him. He gave her a questioning look, but looked too tired to comment on it.

“Get under the covers,” Hermione ordered. Harry lifted his body slightly, and she saw the pained look on his face. She quickly stood and pulled the covers and his robe out from underneath him. He did not speak however, just laid back down as she pulled the covers over him. “Now, I'm going to put on some more clothes, you try to take off the robe and we'll go back to bed.” Harry nodded as she moved a piece of his hair. “I'll only be gone for a few moments, please don't worry.” She gently kissed his forehead. It destroyed her to see him like this, and she knew it was killing him to. He was the strongest man she knew, in both his arms and his heart, but both failed him as he lay on the bed.

“Okay,” he whispered. “Don't be long, love.”

“I won't be,” Hermione said with another kiss. “I'll be back soon.” She climbed out of the bed, and grabbed a shirt to sleep in. She wanted to be as close to Harry as possible, to let him know someone was there for him. At this moment, she did not care what anyone else thought or said about her, all that matter was her Harry and that he needed her. She changed in the bathroom quickly and returned to Harry's side, underneath the heavy covers.

Despite it being mid-summer, the room felt colder without being at Harry's side. She knew there was a fire beating within his heart, and it was for her. She had never seen him in more pain than when she had left that room, and never seen such a light in his eyes when she returned. She blushed underneath his gaze as she slid into the covers.

“You're back.” His voice was filled with relief. She slid her arm across his chest, laying her head on his shoulder.

“I told you I would be,” she whispered. She felt his arm curl around her and begin to play with her hair. “Are you okay?”

“I'm sorry,” he whispered. He voice was hoarse and had cracked slightly. She looked up to see the tears for falling down his face.

“For what?” Hermione said. She reached up and wiped away a few of the now falling tears.

“For not being strong enough,” he said. “I can't even stand up without hurting. I can't breathe without a pain filling my chest. I can't even protect my friends. Hell, I can't even protect my girlfriend.” She placed her finger over his mouth before he could utter another word.

“You did protect me,” Hermione said. She gently held his head in her hands, making sure that he kept eye contact. “That look in your eyes made me break out of the Imperius curse. I didn't think I could have done that without you. And you kept distracting Ron, so he wouldn't hurt me.”

“He hurt your wrist,” Harry said. He picked her hand up in his, gently rubbing his fingers over the wrapping.

“But he could have done a lot worse,” Hermione said. She picked up his other hand and held it between hers. “You know, in some strange way, I think we are both helping each other out.”

“How so?” Harry said through a yawn.

“Well, you've helped me get through the fears about my parents,” Hermione said, lying on her side. She brushed a piece of his hair out of the way before continuing. “I'm still worried about them, but I know that they are alive and Dumbledore told me that he has his best people on it. That and I have to you.”

“How did you help me?” he asked with a knowing smile. She could only return it.

“I helped you get over Sirius's death,” Hermione said. “Now, I want you to rest. It is my turn to look after you.” He nodded once, and maneuvered his hand around her waist, and pulled her closer. “Harry?” She giggled as he placed his head on her chest. “What are you doing?”

“Relaxing,” he said. She knew the smile was on his face, and felt the blush rise in her face as she tried to find the words. Instead, all she could do was wrap her arms around his head, holding him closer.

She could feel his breath through her shirt, and it only heighten her senses. A man had never been this close to her; even Krum had not been this close. But Harry, Harry was different. He understood her and she knew that he would not take advantage of her.

“It's beautiful,” he said, removing his head from her chest. She gave a soft sigh, enjoying the feeling of the closeness.

“Hmmm?” She asked, looking at him. She had been quite content with the moment until he broke the silence.

“Your heartbeat,” he said with a smile. “So alive, so pure. I think I've found another reason to love you.” He smiled at her and kissed her lips softly.

“Thank you,” Hermione said, unsure of how to respond. She knew it was a compliment, but such a weird one that she would have never expected it from anyone. Well, anyone but Harry.

She smiled and slowly began to twirl his hair between her fingers. And slowly, Harry began to drift into a sleep, his head still upon her chest. She was on her back now, and ready for the day, despite Harry being asleep. She began to think over the last few days, not really recalling the facts but the emotions. This was a new side to her, one she wanted to explore and one that Harry had found easily. It was one she had begun to think that only Harry would ever see and she had never shown it to anyone else.

Harry made her feel so alive simply by being and it surprised her how wonderful the feeling of flying was, even with her feet planted firmly on terra firma. It was exhilarating, and if Harry was with her, she might just experience the feeling off the ground as well. Her mind began to relax as well when she heard a small tapping on the door. Before she had a chance to even sit up someone walked in.

“Harry, I wanted to talk to you and Hermione, but she wasn't in her room,” Ron said; his voice was very sullen. He must have had his back turned because Hermione heard a gasp as he turned around. “I knew it, damn it, I knew it. You two were at it behind my back.” His voice had quickly changed toward anger.

“Ron, please, just leave,” Hermione began to plead. She sat up quickly, trying to remain calm. Harry was asleep and she knew he needed his rest. He could not handle seeing Ron in the state that he was currently at. And if she was being honest with herself, neither could she.

“Why, so you two can return to your shagging, you whore?” Ron asked, nearly spitting venom. It hurt her to hear him speak like that to her. Suddenly there was a crack of thunder and Ron was thrown against the door. His hair was a mess and there looked like there was a small burn upon his chest.

“Leave Ron,” Harry's voice said. He spoke without compassion or forgiveness. Hermione looked at him, and saw small lightning bolts fleeing from his eyes. His hand was held up and his eyes were set in a glare. She flinched slightly, fearing what he may do. “You have no right to speak to her like that. You have no right to speak to her again. She is twice the friend you'll ever be. Leave, and don't come back until you learn there is more to life than sex and money. Don't come back until you grow up!” As he finished, Hermione watched as a single bolt of lightning escaped Harry's outreached hand and flew toward Ron. She let out a loud scream, trying to get someone else to come and stop this before Harry hurt someone. She had never been more afraid or felt more loved when Harry spoke those words. She knew they were from the heart, maybe that was why she was so afraid of them.

Ron struggled to stand up and quickly got out of the room, the fear evident in his eyes. The bolt still hit the door, shattering it into hundreds of small pieces. Ron must have slumped down against it because he now lay in the rubble that remained. He quickly got up and ran down the stairs as Dumbledore and Serge came running up.

Serge just whistled as he looked at the mess. “You've got to be kidding me,” he said, picking up the pieces of the door. “You do this?” Hermione looked back at Harry, whose face had returned to normal. There were no longer any bolts coming from his eyes as before. She felt him tense up as he realize what he had done.

“I didn't mean to,” Harry said. He fell down on to the bed, a hand over his heart.

“Everything's alright,” Hermione whispered. She took his hand in hers, running her other hand through his hair. “you didn't hurt him.”

“I'm sorry if I scared you Mione,” Harry whispered. Tears were gently rolling down his face once more. “I just couldn't take it if he said another bad word about you.”

“Sssh,” Hermione said, trying to calm him down. Dumbledore and Serge must have cleaned the mess because now both of them stood in the room. “It's all right.”

“Well, if he wasn't scared of you before,” Serge said, letting out a whistle. “My Lord, how did you do that?” Harry shrugged his shoulders or looked like he attempted to. His face looked drained of energy. Hermione picked up his hand in hers and felt him squeeze it tight. It gave her some reassure not much, but enough to keep her from panicking.

“Give him some rest,” Dumbledore said with a caring smile. “It does look like it drained him some.” Dumbledore gave them a kind smile and left the room, with Serge still in awe over something.

“Thank you professor,” Harry said as he rolled over, into Hermione once more. She wrapped her arms around him, and pulled the covers back around them. “Tomorrow,” he said.

“What Harry?” Hermione asked as he rolled once more so she lay his chest.

“Tomorrow we'll let him speak, and see what he has to say,” he mumbled before he fell asleep. Hermione nodded, not really agree, but not caring either. She would let Harry decide when they spoke to Ron again. She knew that he was hurt, but Ron had hurt them more and they both needed an explanation of it.

A/N: The last chapter was a total of 6,689 words. A good number if I say so myself. Anyways, back to the important stuff. JKR owns HP & co. and I own what my mind could scrounge up. I want you all to know, point of view from this point on is ominous, meaning what only Harry and Hermione think, you will see it. Just is hard to explain.

Quotes, come on people, what do you think about my quotes?

Chapter Five:

Facing the World

"Don't stay in bed, unless you can make money in bed." - George Burns (1896-1996)

Harry awoke, revitalized from the previous night's experiences. Hermione lay against his chest, her fingers entwined with his. He knew he would not be able to survive the summer at the Dursley's, without seeing her face. And right now he knew she needed him to be there for her too. Although she had not shown it, he knew she was torn. Her emotions played upon her eyes, ones that he only he knew the answers to her questions.

“Hmmm,” Hermione said as she tried to stretch in his grip.

“Good mornin' beautiful,” Harry said sweetly. “How was your night?”

“Wonderful,” Hermione said sitting up slightly. “How is your chest?” She was too worried at the moment to try and rest. She knew she spent the entire night on his chest, she could feel his heartbeat resounding in her chest. It matched hers, beat for everlasting beat.

“Fine,” Harry chuckled. “Look.” He lifted the sheet that separated them, showing the padding in the center of his chest. It hadn't bled through like the previous night. “Now, where were we?” Harry asked, wrapping his arms around her. She had quickly grabbed his glasses from the nightstand before she was pulled back into his embrace. “Ah, yes, here we were.” Harry said breathing into her hair. She had taken her place back on his chest, and currently was trying not to giggle. He could not get enough of the smile, that wonderful smile that brought joy to his heart.

“Please Harry,” she said as his hands began to roam to her ticklish spots, mainly her ribcage. “We wanted to talk to them today.”

“Fine,” Harry said. He stopped tickling her sides, but kept his hands on her. “But can we stay here, at least `til lunch.”

Hermione turned to look at him, and saw the pleading in his eyes. As much as she wanted get going in the day, she knew he still was not ready to. Ron was too stubborn to see life through Harry's eyes at times. “Alright,” she whispered.

“Thank you,” Harry found himself saying. He did not know why, but he could not face Ron. Not until he was sure that Ron understood everything about his life. He did not have a chance to think anymore on the subject. His stomach spoke for him.

“I think we need to get you some food,” Hermione said, chuckling as she patted his stomach.

“Would you like breakfast in bed?” Harry asked, pulling her tighter against his chest. He really did not want to leave. If he left the bed, that would mean he was better and then Hermione would not be able to help him any more. On the outside, maybe, but inside, it still ached when there were not people around who loved him and it nearly killed him when Hermione was not there.

“Whatever you like,” Hermione said with a smile. “But come lunch,” she was back into her bossy mode at this point.

“Yes, Mione,” Harry said, kissing her lightly on the lips. “We will eat lunch with the rest of the household, but you have to help me walk still.” She nodded with a smile on her face.

Hermione loved it that he would now only accept her help. He had never before really been open about asking for help, but if he needed it, she was there to give it to him, unconditionally. From what she knew about his childhood, he needed the love that she gave the most.

“What would you like?” Harry asked.

“Anything would be nice,” Hermione said with a smile. “We both haven't eaten in the last few days much.”

“Dobby!” Harry yelled. Dobby came in his usual manner, rather abruptly and not exactly where Harry would have liked him to be. Dobby stood at the foot of the bed, looking at both Harry and Hermione in turns. “Could you get us some breakfast please?”

“Breakfast is overs sir,” Dobby said, looking down at the floor. “`Tis about lunch.” Hermione and Harry shared a set of looks before they looked back at Dobby.

“Then can you bring us some lunch?” Hermione asked. Dobby nodded and apparated out of the room. “He better bring a lot. I'm starving.” Harry chuckled lightly as she drew circles on his stomach over the sheets. He never would have thought of the day when Hermione would want to eat a lot. Granted, she always at her share, but it never was half as much as Ron would try to devour.

“Alright Mione,” Harry said. He took a deep breath of her hair and relaxed from the fragrant scent that came from her. “My angel, my wonderful angel.”

“I'm an angel?” Hermione asked. She looked up at him in shock. She had never been called that before, and yet somehow, it lifted her heart higher than any other name Harry had called her before. He nodded and it caused her face to blush. “I'm not that perfect.”

“Yes you are,” Harry said. He lifted her chin to get her to stare into his eyes. “You are the best thing that has happened in my life, and my heart tells me you are perfect for me.” He kissed her lightly, never braking contact with her eyes.

“Thank you,” Hermione said still blushing. Krum had never said things this nice. He just complained to her that all she talked about was Harry. It was not her fault her mind had a one track mind when she got nervous. “How do you know what to say?”

“Hmm?” Harry asked. His head was back into her wild hair, and it looked like he was not paying attention to her. “You say something beautiful?” She blushed once more, and shook her head.

“Never mind Harry,” Hermione said, sitting up. Dobby popped back into the room and held a tray in his small hands.

“Miss, here is your lunch,” Dobby said, placing the tray on the chest at the end of the bed. “Anything else?”

“No thank you, Dobby,” Hermione said, crawling out of the covers to grab the tray. Harry had to smile, she was perfect, right down to her- “You need anything Harry?” He shook his head and tried to maintain the picture she just gave him. “Thank you again Dobby.” The elf gave a creepy smile and left. “What are you smiling about?” He looked at her for a moment before he grabbed a sandwich.

“Never mind,” he said. He kept the smile as a blush crept over her face. She must have had some clue as to what he was thinking about. He never had any experience with girls before, with the exception of Cho but that was a horse of different color. Somehow with Hermione he was able to convey everything he felt so easily as if she would know what he was thinking without saying it.

“How do you do that?” Hermione asked. She took a sandwich and leaned against him as she ate.

“Do what?” Harry said. He smiled at her, though was completely in the dark about her question.

“Make me feel loved,” Hermione said, as he brought an arm around her.

“That is a very simple question,” Harry said with a large smile. He kissed her lightly on the lips. “Because I've been learning from the best.”

“Who?” Hermione asked. The answer was not simple; it only made things worse in her mind. She felt a pang of jealous as she went through several women's names, trying to find the one that taught him.

“For someone who is a great teacher, you sure can be dense sometimes,” Harry said. He gave her another light kiss as she tried to find the words. The look in her eyes was unexplainable. Awe combined with shear love. “I love you, Mione.”

“I love you too,” Hermione said, finally regaining her voice. She had never been complimented like that before. Harry's simplest charms were driving her heart wild. She was sure it never had beaten so fast before in his life. She felt Harry pull her closer, capturing her lips once more. “Now,” she said, pulling back from his lips. She was slightly out of breath and felt the blush rush to her face. “Let's finish lunch then study a little bit.”

Harry nodded as he took another bite out of his sandwich. He found himself staring at her as she slowly ate. She seemed to be trying to avoid eye contact with him, and every time she did look, her face turned a red hue.

Hermione knew he was staring at her, she could feel it. And every time she looked up, it only made the beating in her heart even worse. “Why did that smile of his have to be so perfect?” She thought as she finished her sandwich. Harry was already done with his and once more was lying down, staring at the ceiling

“Harry?” Hermione said. She felt a knot rise in her throat as she spoke. “Are you okay?” the worry melted away at his smile.

“Come here,” he held out his arms waiting for her. She lay back down, nuzzling next to him. “I'm fine, just a little winded.”

“You shouldn't have eaten so fast,” Hermione said, looking up at him. Harry knew she was deeply concerned about him. It showed in her every move. From her kiss to the look in her eyes. She radiated care and love.

“I know,” Harry said, taking deep breaths. “Can you help me to the bathroom?” He turned his head to look at her.

“Sure,” she said with a smile. It was taking all of her control not to blush at the thoughts she was having at the moment.

Harry sat up slowly and slid his feet toward the edge of the bed. Hermione crawled off and stood before him. Holding her hands out, he grasped onto them, and together lifted him off the bed. He quickly wrapped an arm around her waist before the blood began to rush to his head.

“Ready?” Hermione asked as she grabbed his other hand. He nodded, trying to clear his mind. They walked together, going slowly toward the bathroom. Hermione opened the door for him as he walked in, grasping onto the counter for balance. “You will call me if you need help, right?” Harry nodded as he attempted to stand up straight.

“What would I do without you?” Harry said, looking at her.

“Probably lie in bed all day,” Hermione said jokingly. He only returned her smile.

“I love you Mione,” he said. She walked into the bathroom and gave him a light kiss on the cheek.

“Get real clean for me,” Hermione said. As much as he wanted to protect her from the outside world, she wanted to protect him more from his own nightmares. Maybe that is why they worked so well together. “We'll study after I shower.”

“Yes Mione,” Harry said as she walked out. He turned toward the shower and shut the door. He could do this; he could last a few minutes without her. He'd have to learn to live without her during Hogwarts. But that was not for another month or so. He could enjoy her as she was for the time being.

Hermione picked out the clothes for him and opened the door to the bathroom. She placed them on top of the counter and hoped he did not hear. Her face was already burning red from embarrassment. Not that she did not mind picking out his clothes, but she felt uneasy putting them in the bathroom, with him only a few feet away, showering, and naked. She blushed once more at the thought as she sat down in a chair.

Picking up the book she was reading the day before, she began to map out what they were to do for the day. As she finished a chapter and her plan for the day, Harry stepped slowly out of the bathroom, steam following him. His face was red, either from the fact he took a hot shower or he realized he forgot his clothes. He held his shirt in his hand as he walked over to her. The bandage was no longer on and she could see the beginning of a deep scar forming on his chest.

“Oh Harry,” Hermione said, jumping out of her seat. She rushed over to his said and wrapped him in a hug. “How is it?”

“Better,” he said with a smile. She moved her hand over it, slightly touching the scar itself. “I'm just hoping Madame Pomfrey will find something to get rid of the scar. I really don't need another one.” He shivered underneath the touch as she pulled back. “Your turn, angel.” He kissed her lightly before turning her toward the bathroom. “Are you going to get your clothes?” He quickly wanted to avert what happened with him, happened to her. As much as his body wanted to walk in on her naked, his mind and heart told him that he would have to wait until she was ready to show him. Just like she waited to see him

“From my room,” Hermione said with a smile, trying to hold back her blush. “But after I shower, we are going to move my stuff in here.”

“You sure?” Harry asked, surprised at him implication. She was going to make it official and spend the rest of the summer in his room with him. She nodded and kissed his cheek lightly.

“No peeking,” she said with a playful tone. She knew full well that he would not do that to her, she just wanted to see him blush. And he did.

“Alright, Mione,” Harry said, walking slowly back to the seat she was just in. “You come get me when you're ready.” Hermione nodded and turned into toward the bathroom.

Harry picked up the book he was reading the day before, the one on enchantments and began to dive further into it. He wanted to know if the possibilities of a protection and how to incorporated it into a medallion or something similar. Maybe a ring or an amulet. He was beginning to understand how to perform the incantations for such materials and wanted to talk to Dumbledore about it, when Hermione walked into the room, dressed in a soft pink shirt and pale blue capris. He felt his jaw drop to the floor as he looked her over.

“Well?” Hermione asked, stopping several feet away from the door.

“Well what?” Harry said, pulling his tongue out his throat.

“What do you think?” she asked sheepishly. He smiled as he stood and slowly walked over to her.

“You look wonderful,” said Harry. He kissed her cheek lightly. “Now let's go move your clothes.” He picked up her right hand in his and wrapped his other arm around her waist. Although he could walk normally, he still liked to walk like this and be this close to her.

“Fine, but we'll take it slow, okay?” Hermione said, making sure he understood. She figured at the rate they were walking, it may take them all afternoon to move everything, but that would be alright. He needed to get his mind off everything that happened and she needed to keep her mind off where her family was at the moment. She could still feel her parents like Harry had told her she would, but she could not feel her sister, Juliet. She was going to ask Dumbledore about it as soon as dinner came around.

They spent the better part of the afternoon moving all of her clothes from her room to his. Harry felt comfort in knowing that even with her a few feet away he still felt the warmth in his heart. Not as strong as when she touched his skin, but it was there nevertheless. It began to wonder if it was ever going away, and then resented the thought. He did not want to go away; he wanted it to grow stronger with each passing day. He knew he would need it, especially when he wanted to talk with Ron after dinner.

Around mid-afternoon, they had finished. Hermione led Harry back to their room, now that everything she had with her was in the room. The closet where Harry had placed his dress robes in it was mostly filled with her clothing. Their trunks sat side by side at the edge of the bed. What room was left in the bookshelves was filled with Hermione's books. Crookshanks had taken residence on one of the chairs and looked extremely at peace. He looked exactly how Harry felt.

“Now what?” Hermione asked, sitting on the edge of the bed. She wanted to read or at the very least study , but knew Harry probably wouldn't.

“How about you read to me?” Harry asked, looking over from his position by the bathroom door. He slowly began to walk over to the bed and carefully fell on to the covers.

“Are you sure?” Hermione asked. Harry felt her stand up from the bed and walk over to his side. He did not know what caused him to say it, all he knew was that it was music to hear Hermione speak, and what better why to accommodate what she wanted to do, obviously read and let Harry have what he wanted.

“Which one?” Hermione asked. She could not believe, Harry wanted her to read to him. Maybe he would actually get something outside that thick skull of his.

“Hogwarts, a History,” Harry said with a smile.

“Are you sure?” Hermione asked, trying to suppress a smile. She loved that book; it had to be one of her favorite. He nodded, kissing her lightly on the forehead. She quickly hopped out of the bed and ran over to her trunk. In a flash, she found her book and was back by his side. “Ready?” Her eyes were bright and cheerful as she looked at him.

“Ready when you are,” Harry said. He brought her closer as she opened the book.

And so, she read to him. Lying on the bed next to one another, neither could have ever dreamed such a thing could happen to them. Harry finally had found someone who loved him for who he was and Hermione had found a boy that saw past the books to the woman she was underneath, and accepted her with his heart and soul. After a while, Harry took up reading to Hermione. She had then wrapped her arms around him and pulled him closer, resting her head on his chest. She eventually fell asleep, but Harry kept reading aloud. He found himself enjoying the book, and surprisingly found himself understanding everything better by reading aloud.

He spent several more hours, reading to himself and a sleeping Hermione on his chest. The clock read four thirty on the nightstand, and he felt his stomach speaking for him once more. “Angel,” Harry whispered into her ear. She shivered as he began to run his hand up her spine. “Mione, time to wake up.”

“Five more minutes,” she mumbled. She squeezed Harry tighter and buried her face further in his chest.

“Mione, if you don't get up soon,” Harry whispered, continuing to rub her back. “You'll feel my manhood in a few moments.” Her face shot up, and met his. He was blushing deep red, but only kissed her gently as she rolled off of him.

“Sorry,” she whispered, slightly embarrassed. In truth she had felt it, but was too content in her dream of Harry to really care. She knew her face was going to be matching his in a matter of moments. “What time is it?” She stretched and felt his fingers lightly graze her forehead. Crookshanks meowed once and hopped onto the bed. “Looks like its dinner time.”

“About four-thirty,” Harry said, sitting up. “Are you hungry?” His arm brought her closer to him once more. She nodded as she leaned her head against his shoulder. “Well, why not go downstairs and see how everyone else is?”

“Are you sure?” Hermione asked, searching Harry's eyes. He smiled at her as she stared at him. And slowly she returned it. She found the emotions she was looking for; behind the love and understanding, was the fear she was looking for. Nothing serious, just the fear of what Ron might do and how everyone will react to them together.

“No, but you wanted to eat dinner with everyone else,” Harry said, trying to smile. He felt nervous as she stared at him. He really did not want to, but with Hermione, he felt like he could face Voldemort and possible win. “You have to stay by my side.” He said this forcefully and stared at her just as deeply as she stared at him.

“I already told you I'd never leave you,” Hermione said, kissing his lips lightly. “Now, are you ready?” She looked at him once more, grasping his hand. He nodded once and she slid off the bed, still holding his hand. He followed her, wrapping his arm around her waist. “Ready?”

“Ready as I'll ever be,” Harry said as they slowly began to walk toward the door. Although he had not had any dizzy spells that day, he did not want to take the chance without Madame Pomfrey's consent that everything was alright.

The hallways seemed empty and there seemed to be light conversation floating up from the lower levels. Harry exchanged a look with Hermione before the continued down the hallway and down the stairs. They took the stairs slowly, halting at the bottom for a moment. Hermione insisted they take it slow as not to further complicate Harry's injuries. He did not mind as long as he got to stay close to her. Once they reached the source of the conversation, Harry stopped walking. He looked at Hermione, unsure of what to do. She nodded once, almost reading his mind as he stood up straight and opened the door.

The conversation stopped immediately as they entered. The Weasleys, Dumbledore, Aberforth, Serge and his daughter were sitting at a table, with a mound of food in front of them. Ron sat with his back to them, and made no movement to look over at them. “Please, take a seat,” Dumbledore said, motioning toward a set of empty chairs by Serge. “I'm glad that you could join us.”

“So am I,” Hermione said as she walked to her seat. Harry stood behind and pulled the chair out and helped her into it before sitting himself. She smiled at Harry, but could not help but see the glare from Ron. Somehow, Harry was able to get food on her plate by the time see turned back from look at Ron. He now was starting on his own meal, prompting Hermione to do the same.

“Feeling better Harry?” Serge asked as he continued his meal. Him, Dumbledore and Aberforth were the only ones to do so. Harry finally took the time to see that both Lupin and Tonks were not present at the table.

“Yeah,” Harry said as he felt Hermione pick up his hand much. He looked over at Grace who across from him. She stared him a few moments before blushing and turning away.

“Don't mind her,” Serge said with a laugh. The little girl glared at her father, but quickly looked back her plate. “You're training begins tomorrow, Harry.” He began to eat and there came uproar from the other end of the table. Immediately questions began to come from the Weasleys.

“No! You can not train him to fight!” Mrs. Weasleys said. She stood up with such a strong force that her chair fell over.

“Mrs. Weasley, I did not believe you had a say in the matter,” Serge said without look at her. He continued to eat as if nothing happened. Harry was surprised that he had not even flinched at Mrs. Weasley's words. He knew she was protective of him, but she did have a tendency to go over board at times.

“Who are you to decide when a boy should go to war?” Mrs. Weasley said venomously as she tried to stare down Serge. Her husband tried to calm her down, but she just shrugged him off.

“And who are you to decide what is war?” Serge said finally looked up. “Grace, please leave the table.”

“But dad-” she pleaded with him. He looked over quickly at her.

“I will have Grandpa come get you when it is time for dessert,” Serge said his eyes softening. Hermione squeezed Harry's hand tightly. She knew that was going to be the type of father that Harry would be: a man that could be stern and loving at the same time. Grace looked over at Dumbledore who nodded at her. The old man still held a twinkling in his eyes as he sat, watching the exchange.

“Grace, I have a cat in my room that needs to be feed,” Hermione said to the young girl before she could leave. “Could you-” She was cut off by a squeal of joy.

“Can I?” Grace said, looking between Serge and Hermione.

“If it is alright with her,” Serge said with a smile. He leaned over to Harry and whispered something as Grace and Hermione spoke of how to take care of the cat. “Don't expect to see the cat for a while. Gracy loves animals, especially dogs and cats. She wants me to get a dog for her for Hogwarts, but I know they don't allow it. Something about them having to be house trained or something.” Serge shrugged his shoulders and laughed once. Dumbledore just shook his head and held the small smile on his face. Harry tried to suppress a chuckle as he realized what they were talking about. Hermione looked over at him, confusion written on her face. Grace had already left and Serge looked like he was ready to begin again.

“Madame, you know nothing of war,” Serge said, folding his hands in front of him. Harry noticed the brown glove was still on his right but he no longer wore one on his left. “You know nothing of sacrifice for a greater good. Because you are a witch, and you have not seen a war as a Muggle has seen it.”

“Who are you to tell me what a war because of some Muggles?” Mrs. Weasley said. Her face was a dark red and her breathing deep.

“Because I not only lived as a Muggle for the majority of my life,” Serge said, finally standing up and staring at Mrs. Weasley, “I'm one of those damn crazy Yanks that go off to war.” Harry felt his jaw hit the floor. He had noticed the Serge spoke slightly differently, but had never really pointed it toward being an American. He looked over Hermione who was sharing the same shock. “I never went to a school for magic, never had the sense or patience for such things. I was drafted in 1971, when I was seventeen years of age.”

“Before you continue,” Dumbledore said interrupting his grandson. “Silencio.” He pointed his wand to the ceiling, soundproofing the room.

“Alright, as I was saying, I was drafted and sent to fuckin' Vietnam,” Serge spat and grabbed his glove from his right hand. He threw it onto the table as everyone gasped at it. His eyes waved with passion and fury as he spoke. “I gave my right hand to braver men than you'll ever meet. I watched as fires hotter than hell engulf men of the strongest will and I can hear their screams at night to this day. I've lifted men off the ground by the legs only to have their legs slip out of my hands, leaving the burnt skin. I was there for three days and I've seen move hell that you probably saw with all of you combined.” Hermione and Harry exchanged looks. There was no way Serge was forty some odd year old. He looked way too young, almost like he was in his mid-thirties, maybe even early twenties .

“Wait a minute; we lived through Voldemort's first reign of terror,” Mister Weasley said standing up.

“You know nothing of terror,” Serge said venomously. “You know nothing about terror until you see the bullets pierce your buddy's shoulder, five feet in front of you, and watch him scream in horror; you know nothing about terror until you watch a man burn alive, their eyes staring right at you as they die in your arms. I've felt terror; there are whole nights when the screams keep me awake. Don't you dare tell me what terror is your British cocky bastard.” He began to turn around picking up the glove as he did when Bill and Charlie stood up from their chairs. Harry felt Hermione clinging to him, as a sense of dread overwhelmed him.

“Who are you to talk to us like you know what is going on?” Charlie asked. By now the rest of the Weasley men were standing.

“I am an American,” Serge said. He began to turn and walk away. Hermione squeeze Harry's hand tighter as she watched Serge's left hand slid into his jacket.

“That gives you no right,” Charlie said taking a step forward. “Apologies to my parents.” He placed his hand on Serge's shoulder and attempted to turn him around. Serge spun around, his left hand pulling something out of his jacket as he did so. With a quick low kick, Charlie was on the ground, and Serge stood facing him, a pistol held in his hands.

“I will apologize for nothing I have done wrong,” Serge said, his finger playing over the trigger of the pistol. “I've seen more blood split in one life time than you may ever know. You wizards are damn pacifists compared to the men I watched fight and die. You have nothing on the men we fought. You, Mister Weasley, may think you are ready for this `war,' as you call it, but you know nothing. You know nothing about anything, chief.” Serge twirled the gun in his hand once before placing in his belt. “Now, are you going to get up off the floor and let me explain a few lessons in life to you or are you going to stay there?” Harry felt his heart relax and well as Hermione's hold.

“What do you want?” Charlie said, taking Serge's hand up.

“I want you to understand what you are up against,” Serge sat back down in his chair.

“Then why did you yell at us?” Bill asked as Mrs. Weasley glared at Serge.

“I only answered appropriately to your mother's outburst,” Serge said, looking from Bill to Mrs. Weasley. “You, need to understand that these children, your children grow up and are right now about the age when they would have been drafted in America. I am the one who will train the students at the Hogwarts to defend with some basic spells that may, hear the `may', that may help them defend from Muggle attacks. Now, I'm a parent too, and I know that you don't want your children to leave, but that is a process of life.”

“Well, that seems like sufficient for tonight,” Dumbledore spoke standing up from his chair. “If you will, we will head to the library for dessert which I believe Dobby had already for us.” Harry stood as well, helping Hermione from her chair. “I want you two to stay,” Dumbledore said and then turned to Ron. “You too Mister Weasley. There are things that you must work out and tonight is probably for the best.” Dumbledore ushered everyone out of the room, leaving Ron, Hermione and Harry alone.

“Why were you two sleeping together when you said you weren't together?” Ron asked, standing up from his chair when Dumbledore closed the doors.

“We are together,” Harry said, trying to remain calm. He kept one hand on Hermione's and the other on his wand. “She is helping me get over what you did to me.”

“That wasn't me,” Ron said.

“I know,” Harry said, looking at Hermione. She looked at him confused, but did not say anything. “But you were the one who stormed into our room last night. And you get angry again, I'll send you through the wall again.”

“You get everything,” Ron exclaimed, turning his back to them. “All I get is hand-me-down everything. You have all the money in the world.”

“Ron, do you know what comes with that money,” Hermione said, standing up to face Ron. She was the one angry this time. How dare he care about something as trivial as that. Ron kept his back to them and his arms crossed. This only made her angrier. “Harry spent the first eleven years of his life without enough food, without a family, and without love. You forgot that to have hand-me-downs, you need a family. Harry got them too, but at least yours fit you.

“Why didn't you give me a chance?” Ron said looking lost. “You knew I liked her Harry, why did you have to go and steal her from me?” Hermione glared at him. He was too childish to think of anyone beside himself.

“I chose Harry,” Hermione said, looking back at him. “And I am not something you can steal or purchase. Harry has been helping me through some of my own problems and I helped him through Sirius, just like I said we should've at the end of school.”

“Ron, you have to grow up,” Harry said, walking over to Hermione's side. It helped him find strength knowing what he felt in his heart and what she said were one and the same. “There is a war brewing, and we are going to be in the middle of it. Hermione, me and you, Ron, we are all apart of this and we can't let petty differences get between us. Ron, I love Hermione, and probably always have. What you don't understand is that I need her more than life itself.” Ron looked up at him.

“What do you mean?” Ron asked, looking back at them.

“Hermione has brought me out a depression,” Harry said, picking up her hand. “Now, she's helping me heal through the damage that you did to me. She's helping me keep Voldemort out of my mind. But most of all, she has kept my soul.” Harry shook his head, knowing Ron would not understand. There was no way anyone but Hermione would understand. She kept him whole and honest with himself. Because if he knew it, then she most likely did too.

“Harry has done wonders for my confidence,” Hermione said, looking at him. “He's made me feel like … like a girl, like a woman. And all he has done is kissed me.” She squeezed his hand, smiling. She could not believe that she found her knight in shining armor under her nose.

“Ron, I've never had someone like Hermione who has loved me unconditionally and completely and truthfully as she has.” Harry said, trying to get his friend to understand. “She's been my second chance at life. And this is one that I'm not going to let you or Voldemort or anyone ruin it for me.” He stared at Ron as he spoke. Hermione knew his feelings already and Ron needed to get it through his thick skull that nothing would change it. “I'm telling you now Ron, I still want to be your friend, we both do, but you have to realize that I love Hermione, and nothing, not even when the world is gone and I'm standing at the end of time will that change. I love Hermione Jane Granger. And come hell or high water, I still will.” Harry had grabbed Ron by his shoulders to get him to face him. “But because I love her, it will change nothing between us; you still are my friend, my brother even. And I need you as well, you are apart of my family, and that is what I need the most right now in this world. A family.” He let go of Ron's shoulders and stepped back to Hermione's side. Her jaw was open in awe and he placed his finger on her chin, lifting it back in place.

Hermione knew she had heard those words told to her, countless times within the last two days. But hearing Harry tell them to someone sparked something inside of her. She could not explain it, but she knew it was something powerful, something wonderful growing inside her now. And right now, she did the only thing she could think of: cry and hug Harry to death.

“Sssh,” Harry said, trying to comfort her. He no longer cared what Ron thought. He had the facts, and now it was time for him to decide what to do with them all. And vaguely, he heard someone leave the room, and a door slammed shut. And only then did his tears join Hermione's.

A/N: Well, that chapter was short, but big hints, big hints. Read between the lines, people, if you want to guess where this is all going. JKR own HP and co. and I own the rest. Alright that is out of the way.

Thank y'all

Chapter Six:

A Bet is a Bet is a Bet

“It may be that the race is not always to the swift, nor the battle to the strong -- but that is the way to bet.” Damon Runyan

Harry and Hermione did not go to the library to enjoy the dessert prepared; instead, both of them headed back to their room. Neither felt good about eating at the moment, and both felt horrible about Ron had said or failed to say.

Harry could not help but feel like he had lost his friend, his first friend. It hurt him a great deal, almost as bad as during the Triwizard Tournament. He felt like Ron no longer trusted him.

Hermione felt torn. She never was as good of a friend with Ron as she was with Harry. She doubted that she and Ron would even be friends without Harry. But now, she felt guilty because she was dating Harry, but felt joyous at the same time. Harry was the best thing that had every happened to her, and Ron wanted to give him up, just to make him feel better about himself. She felt guilty because she was being selfish, but she knew her answer.

“I love you,” Hermione whispered, kissing his cheek.

“And I you, Mione,” Harry returned the kiss. He pulled back and looked at her eyes, trying to see past her tears. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” she whispered. Just like Harry to care about her when she should be worried about him. “But the question is, are you fine?”

He looked at her for a few moments, wiping off the stray tears on her cheek. He felt lost. His first friend was gone, and he had no idea what the Weasleys would think about him. “I really don't know, I just want to let tonight pass and start my training tomorrow. I want you to stay by my side forever, if that is too much to ask.” He looked up from the floor, finding a smile and fresh tears within her eyes. “Why are you crying?”

“Because,” Hermione whispered, surrounding him with a hug and her love. The lost look on his face as he spoke shook her soul so hard. He needed her more than either of them had realized before, and she was not going to let Ron or anyone take her away from him. “Now, let's go to bed.” She watched as the smile she loved grew back onto Harry's face.

“Alright.” Harry opened the door for her, before closing it behind himself. Hermione slipped out of his reach and headed toward the bathroom, grabbing a large shirt from one of his drawers.

“You change out here, and then you can freshen up.” Hermione said through the now closed bathroom door. Harry did as she asked and looked for a book as he waited. He kept his shirt on, incase someone came in on them as they studied. He wanted to read to her like he did the night before. It was something that he had enjoyed doing, knowing she was listening to him and only him. He turned when he heard a knock on the door, figuring it was Ron, he walked over and nearly threw the door open.

“If you haven't come to apologize, then you can leave,” Harry said before the door was even open.

“My dear boy, what must I apologize for?” Dumbledore asked with a chuckle.

“Sorry, sir,” Harry said, stepping back into the room. “Come in.” He offered, but Dumbledore just shook his head.

“Thank you for the offer,” Dumbledore said with a smile. “I know what can go on in a teenager's bedroom.” There was a twinkle in his eyes as he spoke.

“We have done nothing, sir,” Harry said, not making eye contact. He suddenly felt a wave of guilt wash over him, for other reason than sleeping with a young girl. That alone is not considered appropriate to most. But as quickly as that came, a comforting wave over came him and he relaxed.

“I know that, Harry,” Dumbledore chuckled once more. “But I can back to give you two these back.” From inside his robe, he withdrew Harry's and Hermione's wand.

“Where?” Harry started to ask. Dumbledore placed them in Harry's outstretched hands

“After your original confrontation with Mister Weasley, you dropped them,” Dumbledore said with a smile. “You will need them tomorrow. Oh and Hermione, I will not put Harry through too much.” Harry turned to see Hermione wearing another one of his t-shirts like she had the night before. She was blush as she looked over his shoulder. “Good night, and Harry be ready tomorrow at nine, you may accompany him Hermione, if you choose to.” With that, Dumbledore smiled and left the couple to themselves.

Harry turned around to Hermione, finally giving her his full attention. “You are very sneaky,” Harry said, trying to be angry with her. But the smile on her face only made him love her even more. She looked lovely with the shirt ending right below her underwear. He right now wanted to lift her into the bed and kiss her senseless. He held out her wand. “Now, let's get to bed.” Hermione took it promptly.

“You choose a book?” Hermione asked as Harry closed the door. He shook his head. He was trying his hardest not to wrap his arms around her as they spoke. “You mind if I choose?”

“You go right ahead,” Harry said, walking over to her and kissed her lightly on the lips. “Be quick about it though.” Harry walked over to the bed, and got underneath the covers. As he watched Hermione, he found himself without the need of Madame Pomfrey anymore. The dizziness was gone; he no longer felt any pain within his chest. Maybe Dumbledore was right, maybe Hermione did have something to do with his healing.

Hermione searched the bookshelves carefully. She knew which book she wanted, and she also wanted to torture him slightly. She knew he loved to be as close as possible. But what amazed her the most was that she could send those types of feelings through a male.

“Alright, that's enough,” Harry said. He climbed out of the bed quickly and ran over to Hermione's side. “Pick a book.”

“Which one?” Hermione asked, turning to face him.

“Anyone,” Harry said. He placed one hand underneath her legs and lifted her off the ground, supporting her back with his other hand. “You are going to bed now.” He turned around and with some luck Hermione grabbed the book she had wanted to read. She giggled as he carried her to the bed. He gave her a questioning look as he placed her lightly onto the bed. “What?”

“You're so cute,” Hermione said, getting under the covers. He slide in by her and gave her another questioning look before she giggled once more. “Never mind,” she said, shaking her head.

“Alright, Mione,” Harry said, moving right beside her. “What book are we reading?”

“This one,” Hermione said, positioning herself on his shoulder. She showed the book to him: Winnie-the-Pooh. Harry could not help but raise an eyebrow to her.

“Why this one?” Harry said, flipping through the pages of the book. He was expecting to be reading Hogwarts, a History again; this did not look like something Hermione would normally read. He had never read it, only heard about from Dudley as he complained about having to read it from Harry's cupboard. “This is a children's book right?” He asked, trying to shake away from previous thoughts.

“Yes, Harry,” Hermione said, lifting up so she could kiss him lightly on the lips. “And now you get a chance to read it.” She cuddled up to him once more as he opened the book. She knew he never had a childhood, and she wanted him to experience some of her joys from hers. “This is my favorite book; my father used to read it to me when I was at home.” Harry just nodded as he opened the book.

“Chapter One; In Which: We are introduced to Winnie-the-Pooh and some bees; and the stories begin,” Harry read. Some little emotion flew through his heart as he began to read to her. He enjoyed this story as it progressed and found himself wishing that he could have a small son or daughter to read it too. Looking down at the sleeping form of his girlfriend, Harry knew he had found the person that he would spend eternity with. Closing the book, he put it with his glasses on the nightstand and turned off the light. He brought her closer to his chest, kissed her lightly on the top of her head and drifted slowly off to Neverland.

* * * * *

Harry woke to the soft sniffling of someone. He reached for Hermione instinctively, hoping she was alright. She was not by his side, but she was in the room. He could feel it in his bones. Reaching for his glasses, his eyes began to adjust to the darkness. “Mione? Angel?” He called, trying to find her. He sat up and looked toward the chair by the bathroom. There was a shadow of someone, hunched over. He climbed out of the bed and rushed over to where he perceived Hermione to be. “Angel?”

“Harry?” Hermione's voice said. As he got closer, he felt something rush toward him and tackle him. He grunted as a full mane of bushy hair caught his breath and fell onto his back.

“Hermione? What's wrong?” Harry asked. She began to cry into his chest, her sobs nearly overwhelming him.

“Harry, don't leave me,” Hermione whispered into his chest.

“I gave you my word I wouldn't,” Harry said, trying to calm her down, “you gave me yours too.” He ran a hand through her hair and then kissed her head lightly. “Why did you say this?”

“I got a letter,” Hermione whispered as she broke out into sobs. He could not get anything out her as she tried to breathe; so he slipped his hand between them and found the letter in her grasp. He gave a slight tug on it, only to feel her pull back.

“Mione,” Harry said, kissing her head lightly. “You have to trust me. Do you trust me?” A nod into his chest. “Can I read the letter?” She nodded once more. “Will you give it to me?” She shook her head as he began to rub her back. “Alright, alright,” He chuckled a bit. He knew she was stubborn, and it was one of the qualities in her that he loved. “Why not?” She said something into his chest, but he could not catch a word of it. “Mione, you need to speak coherently.”

“Don't read it aloud,” Hermione said, letting Harry take the letter from her.

Dear Miss Granger,

If you are reading this, then your family is alive and well, including your sister. In order for them to stay that way, you must give us your precious by the end of the month, or they all will die.

Lord Voldemort

The entire letter was written in blood. Harry felt his hand crumple it up as he tried to continually comfort the angel on his chest. “We're telling someone.”

“No, we can't,” Hermione finally looked up at him, her eyes pleading with him. “He'll kill them. You can't let him do that; you can't!” Hermione grabbed tightly onto his shirt and shook him once or twice as she spoke.

“Hermione, I'll do everything in my power to help them,” Harry said, as she turned back into his chest. “But we need to tell someone because as of now, I can't do anything to help them. Maybe Serge will get them, but I swear to you, he will pay for what he has done or will do. He harms one hair on them; he will not survive our next encounter.” He said this was a great deal of force and made her look him square in the eye. She needed to know he was there; she needed to know that he would do anything to protect her and her family. “I love you Mione, and damn it, if you want the moon on a lease, you'll get it. I will kill Voldemort for you, just so you can be happy.” His tears had joined hers now as they cried. But his were tears of want; he wanted her to understand that nothing would change how he felt about her and there was nothing he would not do for her.

Hermione stayed close to his chest. She needed the closeness since that letter came. A short while before Harry woke up an owl came and delivered the letter to her. How it found her, she had no idea; she believed herself to be safe here with Harry and at Dumbledore's. Now some bastard had found her. Hermione needed Harry to help her get over this, and she needed him to do something.

“Thank you, Harry,” Hermione whispered into his chest. “Can we go back to bed?” She looked up at him, pleading. She needed the comfort of their bed and their covers, but most of all, his arms wrapped tightly around her.

“Alright, my angel,” Harry said. Lifting her like he had the early in the night, Harry stood with much difficulty, trying to find his balance and keep Hermione safe in his arms at the same time. He did eventually find his balance. He carefully placed her back onto the bed and pulled the sheets over her before lying down as well. She cuddled up immediately and held him tightly.

“Don't leave,” Hermione's voice pleaded with him. The rare emotion that she spoke with shocked him. The passion and want and love and….everything good under the sun were within her voice.

“I can't love,” Harry said, lifting her head to look at him. “I'm here,” he touched the center of her chest, right above her heart. “I'm here and you can't take me out of there with all the magic in the world. As long as there still is a beat in your heart, you will know my love and as long as there is one in my, I promise you will be happy.” Hermione nodded into his chest as she pulled him closer. “I love you, Mione.” He said as he began to give her a small back rub. He wasn't going to fall asleep for the remainder of the night. He promised to protect her, and if that meant missing a few hours of sleep, then he would.

Hermione finally calmed down and returned to a peaceful sleep, or at least that was what it felt like to him. She was breathing deeply now and a tear had not fallen since she climbed onto his chest. His angel was safe, and he would remain awake to make sure of it. Clucking the letter in one hand, Harry began to rub her back once more with his other. She let out a soft sigh, clinging to him even harder. He knew she was safe, now with that smile on her face.

* * * * *

Hermione awoke, opening her eyes slowly to find two emerald green ones staring deeply at her. A smile grew on her face until she noticed the small hint of red in them. His smile only grew larger as he kissed her forehead and began to watch her once more. “Harry?”

“Yes, love,” Harry said, playing with her hair.

“Did you go back to sleep?” Hermione asked, sitting up. The night before was coming back to her and she began to feel guilty about it. He shook his head by kept his smile.

“Did you sleep?”

“Yes, but-” Hermione started, but he placed his finger over her lips.

“Then everything is right in the world,” Harry said, replacing his finger with his lips. “You still tired?” She shook her head, trying to speak again, but Harry placed his finger over her lips once more. “Then I suggest you shower.” Hermione nodded, amazed at the calmness in his voice.

“I love you, Harry,” Hermione whispered, kissing his cheek. “Thank you.”

“I love you too, Mione,” he lay back on the bed, but did not close his eyes. He stared at her for a few moments before she started to blush.

“What?” she turned away and was not used to that kind of attention. Harry just smiled at her.

“Time to start the day,” Harry said. Hermione nodded and got up from the bed. She gathered her clothes for the day and ran to the bathroom quickly. Harry watched her as she did all of this, still taking in the night he just had. Hermione spent the entire night, on his chest and he could not stop staring at her. Something about the way her mouth formed a small smile as she took a deep breath, or when her brow furrowed for a moment before relaxing. He now began to wish she had sleep longer. He enjoyed just watching her.

“Your turn,” Hermione said, stepping out of the shower. She took an extremely fast one, not bothering to wash her hair today. She wanted Harry to be wide awake, and maybe a nice long shower would do that. “I want you awake for today. Dumbledore is speaking to us.”

“Yes, and I'm speaking to him too,” Harry said, sitting up. He still held the letter in his hand. Hermione froze where she was. “Hermione, we have to talk to him about this.” She nodded once and he climbed out of bed to wrap his arms around her. Deep in him, he knew she had not though about it at all since she feel asleep again and taken her shower. “You have to talk about this.”

“I know, but…” Her voice trailed off as she clung to him once more. She did not want to seem weak, but every time she thought of what could happen to her parents and her sister, oh God her sister had barely lived and was turning ten this year. She wanted her so badly to come to Hogwarts, to see this side of the world, and now….

“Mione, if a single hair is off place on any of them, your mum, your dad, your sister,” Harry said this forcefully. “They are your family, and now are apart of mine. My family is the only thing in life I care about anymore and I need my family. You are the most important part of my family and if something happens to you, or anyone you care, all you have to do is tell me.” Hermione nodded once more, but made no move to let go of him. “I've got an idea.”

“What?” she looked up at him, the questions beginning to work through her mind.

“We are going to bring that large chair into the bathroom, and you are going to sit on it as I shower,” the words were out of his mouth fast that he could stop them. It truly was the only idea he had at the moment. She wanted to be close to him, but did not want to rush their relationship. “You'd have to keep your eyes closed and…” he began to stutter and could not find the words. He knew his face was bright red as was hers, but she made no move to let him go.

“Are you sure?” Hermione asked uncertainly. She liked the idea of being close to Harry, even if it was only a few feet away, but in the bathroom as he showered?

“Yes,” Harry said, seeing the look on her face. He trusted Hermione with so much more that maybe she realized, and he wanted to know that not matter what, he trusted her. “I want you to feel safe. And since you don't seem to want to get out of my arms, I highly doubt you'd want to be alone in the room for a while.”

“Could we move the chair to the door?” Hermione said. “I just don't want to intrude on something I'm not supposed to see yet.” Harry looked down at her and saw the mischievous glint in her eyes. “But I do want to know you are near me.”

“Alright,” Harry said, with a smile. He was trying hard not to show the blush. “I'm sorry about suggesting that right away. I know you wanted to take it slow.” Hermione leaned up and kissed him gently.

“You were thinking about me,” Hermione said as she pulled back. “And that is the way I like it.” She giggled once before loosening her grip around him. Harry released her waist and picked up one of her hands as she let go of him. They proceeded over to the chair. Here she finally let go and allowed him to carry the chair to the bathroom door.

“You sit,” Harry motioned. She mock glared at him for a moment before sitting. “Now, let me shower then we will go and enjoy breakfast together.” She nodded as he grabbed his clothing and kissed her forehead as he walked past her. “You will stay there right?” She looked at him, almost glaring at him for questioning. “Just checking.” He said with a laugh. “I see you in a bit love.” With that Harry turned and walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

Hermione let out a sigh, watching the door that Harry had just walked through. She knew he was looking out for her, and trying to protect her, but who was protecting him? Seeing him care the way he did about her, only strengthened her resolve to bury those memories of emptiness, or just down out and destroy them. He would be loved, even if she was only one who loved him, for who he was, not who he may have defeated.

“Can I come in?” Grace's voice said from the other side of the main door.

“Sure,” Hermione said, almost getting up from the chair. One look at the bathroom door made her stop and sit back down. “The door's open.” Hermione watched the door open slowly and as a tawny cat come bounding into the room and onto her lap. “Crookshanks!”

“He spent the night with me,” Grace said walking in. She looked like she had just woken up as well, “I hope you don't mind.”

“Not at all,” Hermione said, absentmindedly petting the cat. “You really like him don't you?” Grace nodded as she took a seat on the bed. Grace looked up at Hermione, questioningly.

“You mean Crookshanks?” Grace asked. From the looks on her face, Hermione could guess who the other person that Grace did not voice was.

“Both of them,” Hermione said with a knowing smile. Grace looked down blushing. “Well, I have to say that both of them are already taken.” Hermione said, keeping a small smile on her face.

“I know, but Harry was the first boy to be kind to me,” Grace said looking up at Hermione. “Other than my father.”

“I know what you mean,” Hermione said. “Harry was the first boy that wasn't mean to me. He was also my first real boyfriend.” Grace looked down once more, but Hermione knew she had to keep speaking. This young girl remaindered her so much of herself that sometimes it was scary. Right down to the shyness and lack of confidence in her appearance. “You will make a lot of men jealous some day.”

“I've told her that since she was born.” Hermione turned to see Serge dressed like the first day they had met him. “Sorry, but she wasn't in her room and I figured she was talking to you.”

“We were just talking, dad,” Grace said, standing up. She walked over to her father and gave him a hug. “Morning.” She said as she released. Hermione could not help but cry a bit as she watched the interaction. She began to remember how her dad would come and wake her up like Serge just did.

“Mione, are you okay?” Harry called, rushing out of the bathroom. Immediately he was by her side, trying to help her stop the tears. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing,” she whispered, trying to hide the tears from an on-looking Serge and Grace. “It's silly, really.” She did not want anyone to see her cry. Harry just shook his head and pulled her into his embrace.

“Mione, if this is about what I think it is,” Harry looked at her, pausing as he tried to get her to look at him. He had felt her pain in the shower and cut his short. It was not horrible until he heard the door open a second time, and then he barely had his pants on. He still did not have his shirt on, but that did not matter. What mattered was the angel he was trying to calm down. “Mione?” She nodded once. He looked over his shoulder to see Serge and Grace still standing by the doorway. “We'll be down in a few minutes.” Harry vaguely saw Serge nod and pick up Grace as he left the room.

“It's silly, don't worry about me,” Hermione said, trying to wipe a tear again.

“Hermione, if you are worried about your parents, then that is natural,” Harry said, holding her head in his hand. He began to rub his thumb across her cheek, trying to calm her down. “I feel lost without mine, Mione. It is natural to feel that way. And I already told you, if anything does happen to them, or to you, especially you, then Voldemort will not survive our next encounter.” He kissed her lightly on the cheek, trying to get her to look at him.

“Thank you Harry,” Hermione said, resting her head on his shoulder. She loved it when he held her close, where she could feel his breath against her hair. “Just knowing you are here helps lighten the load.”

“The same for me, Mione,” Harry whispered as he stood up, taking her with him. “Same for me.” He smiled at her and kissed her head. “Now, let me finish dressing, and then we'll go have breakfast.” Hermione looked up at him, her face blushing wildly.

Hermione did not realize that he did not have a shirt on. She loved how his body felt against hers and how the slightest touch to her skin caused a shiver down her spine, but how could she not notice he did not have a shirt on?

“Alright,” Hermione said, letting go of him. She sat back in the chair, and let him walk into the bathroom to get his shirt. He put it on and quickly brushed before walking out of the bathroom. She picked up his hand and gave him a soft kiss. “Let's go.” He nodded once before they headed toward the door.

Once again, they entered the dinning room with everyone and like the day before, everything stopped as they entered. Hermione just shook her head and let Harry lead her over to the same seats as the night before. As they sat, everyone else began to eat, but no one talked. Harry slowly began to put food onto Hermione's plate as he noticed Ron had stood up and left, along with Ginny.

“Don't mind them,” Bill said with a smile. He looked up over at the older Weasley, as Harry put food on his own plate. “Ron hasn't quite gotten over what you talked about last night.”

“Well, he'll be over it by the end of the day,” Serge said looking up from his plate. “Him and Harry are sparing later today.”

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked, her ears peaking up from the word “sparing.”

“Well, Harry's training session starts today and I want to know his limits,” Serge said. He put up his hand, and began to silently count down on his fingers. As he count down to zero, Harry watch Mount Weasley explode.

“What do you mean `sparing'?” Mrs. Weasley said standing up.

“Mrs. Weasley, we are not going to argue like last night,” Serge said with a chuckle in his voice. “I don't know if you've noticed but Harry is the only one who has survived an assault from this Voldemort character. The ideal scenario is that he will have all the help he can get before heading off to fight Voldemort and winning. In order to do that, he needs the love of his girlfriend and the trust of his best friend, your son, Ronald. I want Ronald to be in top form for this, and that means the kid has to get over whatever lovesick notice he has rolling through his mind.”

“But why must he fight Harry if he hates him as much as he does right now?” Mr. Weasley asked Serge. Harry felt the need to ask this too, but Mister Weasley beat him to it.

“Well, I figure between the two of them, they knock enough sense in each other for Ron to get over it,” Serge said with a smile.

“When you say `sparing' do you mean boxing?” Harry asked, as he took the rest of the conversation in.

“In one sense,” Dumbledore said. Harry looked over at the older man, and could not find the twinkle in his eyes or a smile on his face. “You two will fight and try to get over this problem that Ron has started for you. Neither of you will be harmed in this, with the exception of bruising and sore muscles. It is of the utmost magnitude that you two solve this dispute before your training begins Harry.”

“How are you going to get him to fight me?” Harry asked, looking over at Hermione. She looked worried about this, and gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

“Well, see here is the hitch in our plan,” Serge said, looking over at Mister Weasley. The man nodded once before Serge continued. “I've talked it over with Arthur, and he and I've come to the decision that in order for Ron to really fight you, there needs to be something for him to gain.” Serge looked over at Hermione, and Harry could see the sadness in his eyes as he did so.

“What will he be gaining?” Hermione asked. She did not like the way Serge was looking at her, with pity in his eyes.

“He will be told that the winner is allowed to go on a date with you,” Serge said. Harry felt the rage beginning

“Are you insane?!” Harry stood up and yelled. There was no way he was going to fight Ron over Hermione. Hermione had made her choice. He was her choice. “What the bloody hell kind of plan is that?”

“I'll ask you once, Harry,” Serge's face turned cold as he stared back at Harry, “watch your language in front of my daughter.”

“I agree with you, Harry,” Dumbledore said, standing up from his chair. Harry turned toward the older man and glared at him. It was probably Dumbledore's idea in the first place. “I have often not agreed with my grandson's methods. He often is irrational and does not fully comprehend some things. But as my idea did not work last night, he has requested that his way be tried.” Harry relaxed slightly, taking comfort that Dumbledore would not force him to go through something as…stupid as this.

“Harry, relax, and let me say something,” Hermione said, standing up. She picked up his hand and tried to calm him down. The others may not have seen it, but she did. She saw the small bolts of lightning escaping his eyes as he raged. He nodded once, but the bolts remained as he glared at Serge. “Now, why did you want to do this?” She glared at Serge, but felt it was right that he had a chance to explain himself.

“Well, if we give him a chance to fight for you, maybe he will get the idea knocked through his head that Harry will do anything to protect you,” Serge said smiling. “I saw Harry fight, and I he'll give Ron a good run for his money.”

“What if he doesn't win?” Hermione asked. She had seen Harry fight, and she felt confident about it.

“He'll learn something in the process,” Serge said trying not to make eye contact.

“Some stupid fight to see how much I need to learn is not worth it,” Harry said, crossing his arms. He felt like he was close to leaving the room. There was no reason for him to fight Ron over this. “Why should I prove my love for Hermione when the whole world knows that I love her already?”

“Ron doesn't,” Serge countered. He stood up and placed his hands on Harry's shoulders, only to be thrown back several feet and crash through his chair.

“Don't touch me,” Harry said. “I told you I don't need to prove me love to anyone beside myself and Hermione. If Ron can't take it, then he can go straight to-”

“Harry!” Hermione said, turning him to face her. “Calm down.” Harry's body relaxed, she could feel it underneath her hand. “Now you,” Hermione walked around Harry and began to point at Serge who had just hopped back onto his feet. She wanted him to stay were he was, and not move so she could yell at him. “How dare you try and mess around with our lives like this. Push Ron and Harry into a fight over me when we already had one. One that I might add ended badly.” She was in front of Serge now poking his chest. “What gives you the right to interfere in our lives?”

“If you take a step back I'll tell you,” Serge said after a few moments. Hermione did and finally noticed the room had turned deadly silent. “I mean I'd step back too, but seeing as I can't.”

“Why not?” Hermione asked, eying him wearily. She took a step back into Harry's arms, and brought her hand up to her mouth, trying to cover the gasp.

Serge's legs, up to his torso, were frozen to the ground. The light blue ice reflected the light neatly as Hermione looked at everyone's faces. They all seemed to be in shock from what she did. Serge looked down once and wore a smile on his face. “That is why.”

“Did I do that?” Hermione asked, finally regaining her voice.

“No less than Harry did when he hurtled Ron to the door or me to the floor,” Serge said as he removed his glove on his right hand. A small white pick axe appeared out of the liquid light and began to take apart the ice.

“Harry, we've talked it over with both Dumbledore and Serge, and they both believe that Ron will not simply accept the fact that you two are going out,” Mister Weasley said, trying to help them understand the situation. Harry did not care at the moment, what mattered was they wanted him to fight over his Hermione. His Hermione that chose him over everyone else in the world, and that was all that matter in his mind.

“Does Ginny?” Hermione asked, as her mind began to go over everything they had been told.

“We believe she does half-heartedly,” Serge said, shaking off the final bits and pieces of ice.

“Then I'll `spare' her,” Hermione stated.

“What?” Harry asked, surprised at her.

“Ginny has to realize, too, that I love you, and nothing is going to change that,” Hermione turned to look at her boyfriend. “And if I have to knock some more sense into her too, then I will.” She said this all with a smile and gave him a small kiss.

“What do you think I should do?” Harry said. He looked at Hermione, trying to find the answer. HE did not like the idea of fighting his first and one of his best friends.

“Try and bring our friend back,” Hermione said. She wrapped him in a hug, followed by a passionate kiss; she tried to let him know, no matter what the outcome, she was his. By the look on his face when she pulled back, he knew already.

“I'll fight him,” Harry said, as Hermione turned around in his arms. “I won't like it, but I'll fight him.”

“Very well,” Dumbledore said. Harry could tell the man was trying to smile, and show a good mood, but something was troubling him. “After breakfast, Harry, you, Arthur, and I will discuss some things and Serge will prepare Hermione for the bout with Miss Weasley. For know, let's just enjoy the meal and discuss some happier matters.”

“When is Moony coming back?” Harry asked as he helped Hermione back into her seat. He wished to speak to the old Marauder about Sirius since they had not had a chance to as of yet in the holiday.

“He and Tonks are out looking up some information for me and will return within a few days,” Dumbledore said. “He can explain it to you when he returns Harry.”

“Harry, do you know what you and Hermione did?” Mister Weasley said once Harry had returned to his breakfast. Hermione and Grace were rapidly discussing how to take care of a cat and what Hogwarts was like.

“No,” Harry said and shook his head. “I assumed wandless magic.”

“Harry, what you did is called elemental magic if I am correct,” Mister Weasley said, looking at Dumbledore. Dumbledore nodded once before looking toward Serge who had returned to his meal. Everyone turned to look at him, as he continued to eat, but looked up, confused slightly.

“Why's everyone staring at me?” He asked with fork half-way between his mouth and plate.

“Would you please explain to everyone what elemental magic is?” Dumbledore said. Harry let out a breath he had not realized he was holding. The twinkle and smile were back in place in the old professor.

“Now?” He asked, placing his fork down on his plate. Dumbledore nodded his head once. “I was saving that for the class this year.”

“What class?” Hermione questioned. Harry could not help but chuckle. It was so like Hermione to immediately get into a conversation if school was involved.

“I would be providing some assistance to the DADA teacher this year on certain material, but from the looks on my grandfather's face, he wants you all to know about it now.” Serge shook his head. “Elemental is a broad term, one with many definitions. For now, and time's sake, I will break it up into four different groups: lightning, water/ice, fire, and shadow. These magic forms mean nothing more than what type of magic you may specialize in. Often people have no preferences, they just work with all four, but with weaker results. But when someone is able to use said elemental magic wandlessly, they are the specialists and usually are restricted to a single element that way but cast it with a great amount of power and density. Both Hermione and Harry, and I suspect your son Ronald as well, are specialists.”

“So we can use wandless magic,” Hermione said, nearly jumping in her seat with glee. She had always wondered what it would be like.

“In one sense yes,” Serge said. “But I believe that Harry will be the one out of all three of you to fully exploit wandless magic.” Harry looked up from his plate.

“What do you mean `fully exploit wandless magic'?” Harry asked, not really wanting the attention.

“Well, both Hermione and Ronald will be able to do some wandless magic,” Serge said, trying to explain everything. “But with you, you will be able to do more difficult spells with less movement and the same amount of thought as you would with a wand.” Harry just shook his head and rested it in his hands. Why was he always the special one?

“How do you know this?” Hermione asked, shocked at the statement. She knew Harry was powerful, but this completely surpassed the ideas she had of his strengths.

“Well, you were able to freeze my feet to the floor, but from the look in your eyes, I could tell you wanted me to stay put and did so without actually knowing what you did,” Serge said with a smile. “Harry on the other hand, has already surmounted a small amount of control over his abilities. When he destroyed that door, putting that much power through a small concentrated source is incredibly difficult. And when he threw me to the ground, he had to use a great amount of magic to control that much power. I weigh a great deal and my hands still feel numb, and I was surprised they weren't burnt.”

“It was because you were on the ground,” Hermione said, softly. Harry looked over at her, before she sighed once. “Electricity makes a current and the current went through Serge's body. You sent such a powerful surge through that it hurt his hand to stay on and had to pull off.”

“Kind of like that I think,” Serge said with a smile. “There's more to it than the Muggle aspect of electricity. But the basic principles are the same. Can I finish my breakfast or is there going to be anything else?” He sat back down in his chair and did not wait for an answer. Hermione and Grace had turned back into their conversations and Dumbledore was talking to Mister and Mrs. Weasley about something.

“Harry, we've got five galleons riding on you, so you better win,” Fred said, looking over at George who nodded. Both held large smiles on their faces.

“Who took a bet against you?” Harry asked.

“Sorry, Harry, but when it comes to Ron and his anger, he's about as bad a Ginny,” Bill said.

“Especially on this matter,” Charlie said with a smile.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked, intrigued by the bet.

“Well, before we met you at the memorial service,” Bill started. He leaned forward on the table so Harry could hear better. “All Ron could talk about was getting with Hermione. Basically, he had this plan set out.”

“And when he saw you and Hermione together, he must've snapped.” Charlie reasoned.

“But why bet against me?” Harry asked.

“Well, he was receiving some hand to hand training from Bill early in the summer,” Charlie said.

“From the training, he improved since day one,” Bill agreed.

“Not good enough,” Fred said with a knowing smile.

“Harry will win,” George said.

“I'm not so sure boys,” Arthur added his two sense in. “Ron has had the extra training that Harry hasn't.”

“Wanna double it?” The twins said in unison.

“I'll get in on this,” Serge said. Harry turned to him, shocked. How could everyone be betting on this? He did not even know if he was going to win. From the sounds of it, he was probably going to lose.

“No, you still have to take me to Diagon Alley,” Grace said from across the table.

“If I win, I'll get you a pet,” Serge reasoned. This brought a smile to Grace's face.

“So what is the bet now?” Bill asked.

“Fifteen sounds good,” Serge said, pulling a small pouch off his belt. He opened it and took out a stack of coins from it. “I'll pay for five.” He set the stack of coins on the table.

“If all of you are in on this,” Arthur said, trying not to make eye contact with his wife, “I'll put five down on my son.”

“Very well,” Dumbledore said with a smile and twinkle in his eye. “Now that is all settled, Harry, you will have about an hour before your bout, Hermione, a little bit longer than that. Harry, I would like to speak with you in my office.” Harry nodded and stood up from the table.

“I'll be back shortly love,” he kissed the top of her head.

“Grace and I will wander for a bit,” Hermione said looking to the younger girl. She reminded her of a young friend that she had in elementary school. And if Julie ever got back, the two of them were sure to be best friends. Harry must have felt her feelings because she felt the small squeeze from his hand and the caring look in his eyes washed away her pain.

“I'll be there in a few minutes,” Serge said from his seat. “Arthur and I have to discuss a project I need his help on.”

“Alright, join us in the study,” Dumbledore said, directing Harry to exit the room.

“Sir, there is something I need to talk to you about,” Harry said, feeling the letter in his pocket.

“Is this about Tom?” Dumbledore asked as they entered the study. Harry nodded as he took a seat. Dumbledore sat behind a large wooden desk not unlike the one in his office.

“Hermione got this last night,” Harry took out the note and handed it to Dumbledore, trying to remain calm. Dumbledore simply nodded once as he handed the note back to Harry.

“I want to thank you Harry,” Dumbledore said, looking at Harry with pride in his old eyes.

“For what?”

“For taking care of Hermione during this tough time in her life,” Dumbledore said. Harry blushed underneath the gaze as the professor continued. “Minerva and I both knew that the time would come when her family was subjected to this kind of attack, but had not predicted it would be so soon. In all aspects, Hermione has been able to handle this better than expected and I can speak for both of us when I say we are very proud of both of you. You for taking care of her when she needed it the most, and her for looking out for you, because you are too stubborn to see your own problems at times.” Harry was shocked for a moment before speaking.

“Thank you sir,” Harry said, trying to comprehend it all still. “I do have a request that you send someone to get them back. Not look for them; get them back here with Hermione. I would go myself, but I have no idea where to start.” He spoke forcefully. He knew he was about the only student who could speak like this to Dumbledore, and at this point, felt grateful for that fact.

“I will send someone by the end of the day to go and attempt to return them safely,” Dumbledore said. He gave Harry a smile and it comforted his a little. “I hope that this will satisfy the need to help Hermione. And let me make this clear, you are not to go off half-cocked and try to rescue them yourself. I believe this would upset Hermione more.” Dumbledore raised an eyebrow and Harry shrunk back into his seat.

“Everything sorted out I hope,” Serge said, walking into the room. His glove was back on his right hand, and walked with a cane.

“Yes, now you are to help Harry learn some basic skills before this bout,” Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eyes. “Harry, I will make sure everything is prepared for the person to search for Hermione's family.”

“You know what that means right?” Serge said, as Dumbledore left.

“What?” Harry asked as Serge walked behind the desk.

“Means I'll be the one to look for them,” Serge said. He gave Harry a smirk as he let him comprehend it all. Harry understood that Serge was related to Hermione, but did not know how or why he was to be the one to get her family. All he cared about was that he succeeded. “Now, there is something I want to give to you. You gave it to my Grandpa several years ago.” He reached underneath the desk and pulled out a large sword in a sheath.

“Godric's sword,” Harry whispered as he reached out to take it.

“Yeah, when we started to plan this bout, I had Grandpa Al get this from his office,” Serge said, allowing the Harry to take the sword. “You will be using it to fight with.” Harry looked on a wonder at the sheath. Rubies donned the sheath and glistened in the morning sun. “Alright, now that you have that out,” Serge stood up from the chair. He removed the glove from his hand and taken his cane up in the other. Like the first time he saw it, two white curved blades appeared on each end of cane. He put the glove back on and walked around the table. “I'm going to teach you some basic techniques to use. Mind you, I'm using a completely different weapon then you, but with some help, I think I can help you know what to expect from an attacker when you do something.”

“Alright,” Harry said, standing up from his chair. He unsheathed sword, and looked at it for a moment. It felt heavy, and although it looked powerful, Harry began to wonder if he could use it effectively and fast enough to combat. The ruby on the handle was a nice touch, especially the dancing flame within. He began to swing it once only to have the sword be accompanied by a bright light. He turned his eyes away, and felt the weight of the sword grow less in his hands.

“Bloody hell,” Serge said. Harry turned back to look. What was once a great sword, thick and powerful, now was a thin long blade, with only one edge sharp. Harry could only guess that the one edge was extremely sharp. The ruby on the handle remained, but the handle itself was smaller. “How did you do that?”

“Do what?” Harry said, looking up from the blade. It felt more comfortable and natural to be in his hand like this. He swung it once and smiled at the feeling how easy it was to do so.

“Change it like that,” Serge said.

“It just felt awkward in my hands like it was before,” Harry said, swinging it once more. “Now I don't feel strange or nothing.”

“Harry, what you just did was an incredible amount of wandless magic,” Serge said, stepping closer to him. “It's called a katana. May I see it?” Harry cautiously held out the katana. Something within Serge's eyes told him not to trust him. As Harry held out the katana, he noticed Serge's left arm flinch and out of instinct, gracefully swung the blade to meet Serge's incoming one. “Good, very good.” Serge said, getting into a fighting stance. Harry took to holding the katana with both hands and stood facing him. “A successful parry. Now I'm going to swing my lower blade to you, followed by my upper one. I want to block both of them.” Harry looked at him, confused at first, but nodded. He watched the lower blade swing forward and Harry met it before catching the upper one with the blade again. “Good, I don't think you'll have any trouble using that.”

“Is that all I'm going to get?” Harry asked, feeling more dread over come him. The extent of his training was summed up in five minutes? A large knot began to fill his gut as Serge nodded.

“But what I'm going to teach you is to focus your element, or innate through your weapon,” Serge said with a smile. “Now point the tip of the blade to me.” Harry did as he was asked, letting his left hand drop. “Concentrate on sending the magic through the weapon. The katana should amplify the strength of the specialized magic you choose to do.” Harry nodded once before trying to take in the power he had earlier in the day. He closed his eyes and concentrated, trying to get something to happen. He dove deep, searching for his love for Hermione and brought that to the surface to use as the catalyst. And with a smirk, he felt the power release. “Shit.” Harry heard something drop to the floor and opened his eyes to see….flames covering his sword.

“What?” Harry dropped his katana in shock. “How did I do that?”

“I don't know,” Serge walked forward. He picked up the blade in his covered hand and lifted it carefully. “I was sure you were a Lightning specialist. I was positive.” He began to mumble to himself as he examined the blade and hilt. “You can't be him….you can't be their heirs.”

“Who's heirs?” Harry asked feeling intrigued by Serge's ramblings. Serge looked up at Harry and held the katana in his hand and gave the hilt to Harry. Harry took it back as Serge walked wordlessly to his cane and picked it up.

“Harry, do not worry about that at this time,” Serge said, placing a hand on Harry's shoulders. “You will know in good time, you will know everything you will need to know before this year is out.” Serge smiled once before leaving the room at a feverish pace. Harry fell back into the chair by Dumbledore's desk trying to figure out what happened. And the dread kept mounting.

A/N: Wow, that took a while. Sorry about the delay. Finals and all took up my life for a while and the last chapter took me a while to finish. I changed it from what I originally planned on doing, but it made it easier for me to do this this way.

Chapter 7:

Training

“I thoroughly disapprove of duels. If a man should challenge me, I would take him kindly and forgivingly by the hand and lead him to a quiet place and kill him”. Mark Twain

Hermione had been studying for a half-and-hour before Serge finally came to get her. She did not know where Harry was, but felt a sense of warmth flow through her as she thought about the upcoming bout. She would be fighting for Harry's love, with his love. Every time she thought of it like that, chills rolled down her spine.

She had looked up dozens of possible spells for the bout, and since it only was a wizard's duel, she did not worry about the physical aspect. She figured it she had to, she would use some of her “wandless magic” she had been practicing in the short time since she learned she could. It would be as a last resort, since she still did not understand it fully. But by the end of the summer, she would become an expert at it.

“You ready, Hermione?” Dumbledore asked, looking into the room. Hermione nodded and stood up, leaving the book on wards by the table. “Now do you know how you are going to do this?” She shook her head as the professor led her down the hallway. “Harry's very worried about you.” She looked up at this, not surprised, but rather interested.

“Did he talk to you about…?” Her voice trailed off as the worry began to come back.

“Yes, and he was very concerned about making sure you were happy,” Dumbledore said with a smile. “I do have a question for you, if you don't mind me asking, of course.”

“Sure, anything,” Hermione said, going back to looking at the floor in front of her.

“Do you like me being your Great-Grandfather?” Dumbledore asked as they walked. Hermione stopped in her tracks. “You don't have to answer it if you don't want to.” Dumbledore said looking back at her.

Hermione stared at him for a moment. She never had any grandparents. Her mother's parents died when her mother was in her mid-twenties and her father's died when she was still young. Looking at Dumbledore, though, she could only feel the comfort a grandparent could give to a child. And she did the only thing she could think of; she hugged him.

“Oh my,” Dumbledore said, being slightly taken back by the sheer force of the hug. “There, there dear, I will take care of everything.”

“Thank you,” Hermione said wiping her tears away. She did not realize that she had been crying and felt childish crying over something like this. “I would love to have you apart of my family.” She said as she pulled out of his embrace. Dumbledore kept his frail hands on her shoulders though.

“My dear, there will come a time, when I will sit down with you and tell you everything that I know about our family,” Dumbledore said with a smile. Hermione felt nervous as she thought about being alone with the professor. “And your precious Harry will be there to help you through your trials.” She began to blush as he began to chuckle. “Now, clear those tears, Harry is just beyond those doors. He will be cheering for you and I will be silently as well.” The door opened up slowly and he placed his hand on her back and pushed her through it.

The room was large and spacious. On the other side, Hermione could see Ginny being led into the room as well. But as soon as she saw Hermione a glare came from across the room. Hermione tried to avert her eyes and look other places. It. was then she spotted Harry, sitting in the middle of the room, looking at her with a smile. She could not help but to return it.

“This duel will last until the last one is standing,” Serge said from his spot in the middle of the room. “The winner will win a date with one Harry Potter.” Both Harry and Hermione glared at John. She did not know of this before hand, and Ginny looked ecstatic about the prospect. The younger girl must have been hiding something. Hermione would just have to keep one her toes then. “Now, bow.” Hermione leaned forward, bowing before she got into a ready position. She watched as Ginny did as well. “Begin!”

“Expelliarmus!” Ginny yelled from across the room.

“Protego,” Hermione whispered, scratching the air in front of her. She let the shield take the full blunt of the attack before she let a Jelly Jinx charm fly toward Ginny. She was hoping that Ginny would dodge to her left; she did. The spell hit the girl, causing her to stumble around the room.

“Expelliarmus!” Hermione cried trying to take advantage of the situation. Ginny must have stopped the spell as Hermione's hit the wall behind the youngest Weasley.

“Expelliarmus!” Ginny cried once more. Hermione easily dodged it. She looked over at Harry, who nodded at her. He wanted her to end this quickly. The look in his eyes gave her confidence.

“Expelliarmus!” Hermione cried, aiming at the one direction Ginny stood at. Then she quietly spoke. “Stupefy!” She whispered in another. “Petrificus Totalus!” She said in another. The three spells went toward Ginny who had no idea any of they were coming with the exception of the first.

“Protego!” Ginny tried once. The spell barely held the third charm and she had to dodge the second spell, but was hit by the first one. Ginny's wand flew into Hermione's hands and Harry had the largest smile on his face.

“This duel is over,” Serge said, standing up from his seat.

“No it isn't,” Ginny said, standing up from the floor. She stood with her right hand raised. “Expelliarmus!” She cried.

The spell took Hermione by surprised. Her wand too flew out of her hands and both landed on the side of the room. Hermione stood there, in awe at Ginny. When did she learn to do wandless magic?

“Concede?” Ginny asked with an evil smirk. Hermione just shook her head. “Very well then.” A spell came out of Ginny's hand once more. Hermione recognized it as her specialty: the bat-bogey hex. Hermione slid out of the way easily and watched Ginny. The younger girl had showed her trump card; but it was not quite the time to show hers.

“Glacio!” Hermione cried out. A deep blue charm flew out of her hand toward Ginny. She dodged it, but the wall behind her was spiked with ice. Ginny stared at it, but sent another hex toward Hermione. She dodged but Ginny was able to grab her wand. Apparently, the younger girl had only limited wandless magic power.

“Harry will be mine!” Ginny screamed sending hex after hex at her. Hermione felt her blood turn cold at this. Harry was hers, and only hers. She was never going to share him with anyone. Holding her hands close together, Hermione dodged the spells, and began to slowly build up a ball of ice. She did not know how she was doing it, only that the energy was flowing through her hands.

“Ginny, you forget that he has already told me he loves me,” Hermione said in a calm voice. She stopped moving, waiting for Ginny. The younger girl look tired after the amount of energy she had been spending. Hermione felt calm and exhilarated still. Now was the moment for her trump card. “And I love him very much. If you choose to end this duel now, then I will not be forced to finish it.”

“Never,” Ginny said, holding her wand ready. She seemed to be waiting for Hermione to make the first move. Another trump card perhaps? Hermione could not take the chance with that.

“Just remember, you may win the duel, but I've already won Harry's heart,” Hermione said, still adding energy to the ball of ice, as she pushed it toward Ginny. The ball of ice flew and hit Ginny's feet at an incredible speed. But as it hit her feet, the ice expanded to cover Ginny's body in ice. Hermione stood in shock as Ginny attempted to struggle. Harry hopped over the railing and ran over to her side.

Watching Hermione fight with such power was surreal. Harry knew she had a great deal of power behind her magic, but seeing her in action, on the sidelines, made it come together even more. It was a wonder how she was able to surmount that much power. The Weasleys were currently working on getting Ginny out of the block of ice. Harry just wanted to hold Hermione in his arms.

“You were wonderful,” Harry said as she collapsed into his embrace.

“Did I hurt her?” Hermione asked. She did not want Ginny injured. She was like a sister to her, and really did not want this duel to be taken out of context.

“I don't believe so,” Harry said with a smile. He kissed her lightly on the lips. He had his back to it all, but he could hear the breaking of the ice and Ginny stumbling to the floor. Hermione immediately left his side and went to help her. He let out a sigh and stood up from the ground; could she just enjoy a victory for once?

“Are you okay?” Hermione said, as she helped Ginny off the floor. The youngest Weasley looked at Hermione for a moment before smiling. She nodded once.

“Yeah, I guess you really do love him,” Ginny said, as Dumbledore summoned a blanket for her. Hermione could tell she was shivering from being in the ice.

“I'm sorry about doing that,” Hermione said as Harry walked up and wrapped his arms around her.

“Don't worry about it Hermione,” Ginny said with a smile. “I guess it took a good hit in the head to see that you two were madly in love. Sorry about the way I acted.” Ginny held out her hand for Hermione or Harry to take. Harry looked at Hermione asking her permission. She nodded once before Harry enveloped Ginny in a hug.

“You're family,” Harry said, pulling Hermione with him. The three of the share the hug, laughing at the sight. “And family is everything to me.” Harry said as he pulled back. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” Ginny just shrugged her shoulders.

“Maybe I don't, but I feel better for saying that,” Ginny said. “It's my brother you'll really have to knock some sense into.” Harry nodded. Ginny turned and walked away for Dumbledore who had offered her a glass of hot chocolate before the next sparing session.

He had been thinking about everything that had happened in the last hour. He figured out how to use the katana as a wand, but it was not as powerful with the exception of the fire abilities he showed earlier. He had slightly improved his control and figured with his spare hand, if he concentrated hard enough, he might get something to happen with his specialist abilities. He had already talked to both Dumbledore and Mister Weasley. They had explained that no blood would be shed during the bout as they both would be using weapons. There would be, however, a charm over the blades to mark the skin and bruise it should the blade “pass through” the skin. He figured he would have several bruises by the time the mock-battle was over.

“Are you okay Harry?” Hermione asked him. She had him turn his head to fast her. The look in his eyes brought a worry to her heart, like he was unsure of the outcome of the upcoming sparing match. “You'll do fine.”

“I know, but I have to win,” Harry said. “I have to show Ron that I can and will protect you from anyone.” Hermione just shook her head as she looked through his gaze.

“You have to show yourself that you can protect me, right?” Hermione said, knowing the answer already. He had already voiced his fear to her earlier, and now it was coming back to haunt him. “Harry, do your best today; that is all I ask of you. You are not prepared for this like Ron is, physically or mentally. Others may not believe in you, but I believe in you.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his lips lightly before pulling back. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Harry said, thankful for her words. She was his rock, his constant that he could always rely on. “Will you watch?”

“I wouldn't miss it for the world,” Hermione said. Harry smiled back at her as he stood up, offering his hand to her. He needed her close for the final moments before his bout. He needed the reassurance of her love. Although he knew she believed in him, years of lack of belief still goaded his mind. This bout, whether he won or lost, was the first step in ensuring his mind of what his heart already knew.

“Harry, good,” Serge said walking toward them. “Hermione, excellent job. Your skills are much more refined then I initially thought.” Hermione began to blush at the this compliment. “You may not need as much training as we planned. Oh well, there is always something else we can think of.” Harry did not like that smile on Serge's face. He was planning something.

“I think training will be fine,” Hermione said, leaning back into Harry. She felt him relax and she let out a breath she had not realized she was holding. “So what are Harry's chances?”

“With theses recent developments, forty-sixty,” Serge said. “That is why I wanted to show you something. May I see your katana?” Harry removed it from the scabbard and handed it to the older man. He held it out for both of them to see, showing them specifically the ruby at the top of the hilt. “This will be the key to you winning your little fight. It will follow your innate, your soul of magic if you will.”

“But how can he be a specialist with lightning magic if his innate is red?” Hermione asked after a moment of silence. Harry had begun to wonder the same thing since their talk in Dumbledore's home office.

He had by now surmounted a decent amount of control over the lightning and could call small amounts of it if necessary, but it did drain him quickly, as he found out practicing in the office. He would rely on other spells that he could use through the katana.

“That is what has me troubled,” Serge said. “I do not understand fully why, but your innate is red, Harry. That means that such orbs as these,” he pointed at the ruby, “are an extension of your soul. You, Hermione, will find your extension with in something similar to a sapphire.” Serge handed the blade back to Harry, who sheathed once more. “Here,” Serge went into a small pouch on his belt and pulled out three red orbs, no larger than the one in the sword. “This will aid you today. Remember what you did with the orb I gave Guile.” Harry nodded, thinking back to the painful night. Harry took then carefully and held them out in his hand. “Concentrate through the orb and you will find your strength will grow and expand from within.” He gave them a furtive smile before departing.

“Do you know what he meant?” Hermione asked, looking at Harry. He slid the three orbs into his pocket before looking back.

“I have an idea,” he said. He kissed her lips lightly. “But what I need more is you being there for me.” She nodded, understanding how deeply that statement sunk. “You are walking in there with me and I'm walking you to your seat, understand?” Harry asked.

“Who says chivalry is dead?” Hermione leaned once more into his embrace. “Now, lead the way, kind sir.”

“As my lady wishes,” Harry bowed and kissed her hand lightly. Hermione tried to stifle a giggle, but she found herself embarrassed at the simple gesture. He stood up and took her hand in his, and led her to the next room. She by now could guess that everyone was waiting for them. As always, she was right., .

Harry knew what lay beyond the doors in front of him; he just purposely took his time getting there. It did not matter to him the looks he received from Ron, the smile from Ginny and the rest of her family, or the smirk coming from Serge. But the biggest surprise came from Dumbledore who gave Harry a very large, yet old smile. Harry led Hermione calmly to her seat next to Dumbledore and walked slowly to his spot across from Ron. He stood with his wand in his right pocket, his katana strapped to his back. Ron stood across from him, his wand no were in sight. There was however a rather large axe strapped to his back. Before Harry could ask what was going on, Serge stood up from his seat.

“As you both well know, the winner of this bout will proceed on a date with one Miss Hermione Granger,” Serge said, avoiding Hermione's and Ginny's glares. “The rules are simple. You both understand the event of contact upon the skin with ones weapon?” Both of the boys nodded but neither left the other ones gaze. “Now, not hits below the waist line, especially in one area. This is practice, and if one of you does hit `below the belt,' Serge's glare may have melted a stone wall, `I will personal castrate the one who hits below the belt. Now, wands are not allowed, and first one to become unconscious loses.” Serge looked at both of them, and they nodded once more. “I want you both to bow, wait ten seconds, not nine or you will have to fight two opponents, the other one and myself. Begin.” Serge spoke sternly almost daring one of them to oppose him.

Harry and Ron bowed and Harry mentally began to count down. He still did not understand why they were fighting and without wands. 10...9...8... He did understand one thing throughout all of this. 7...6...5... He understood that his love Hermione had remained the constant through the last few days. And this constant would be what saved him today. 4...3...2... Ron was beginning to look anxious, and he had rose to the handle of his axe. Harry's hand followed suit and reached for his katana. 1!

Ron's motions slowed down and Harry felt like he was speeding up. He removed his katana and watched Ron move forward, left, then right, then left again. Harry watched Ron's feet and his arms alternatively, looking for the point when he would flow some of his magic through the sword to help block Ron's blow. Ron's axe looked huge compared to his katana, but as he neared, Harry could see his opening.

“Arrgghhh!” Ron swung his axe downward. Letting his magic flow, Harry parried the blow before moving his left leg upward, into Ron's gut. He grunted once and Harry used his preoccupancy to move away. “Nice move,” Ron looked up and Harry could see the red snake moving around in his eyes once more, slithering in a circle in one before moving to the next. “Mine are better.” Ron's speed picked up and Harry felt himself dodging the swinging axe, barely jumping out of the way.

“Stupefy!” Ron cried, pointing the axe toward Harry. He was back against a corner, still holding the katana tightly in his right hand.

Even now, things seemed slower. Harry could not hear Hermione's screams, but he saw the look of horror on her face. Grasping his katana by two hands, Harry stood in a similar stance to the one he held in Dumbledore's office. His left foot was slightly back and his right foot forward. Both of his hands were upon the katana. As the spell neared, Harry did the only thing that came to mind; he moved his sword to parry the spell. It had an unexpected result.

The spell, instead of disappearing like he expected the spell reflected off of Harry's katana and sped toward the ceiling. Everything stopped moving. Ron's face was of shock and it was similar to that of the rest of the room. Harry looked back at Ron and saw the more determined look in his eyes, as well as the growing red snake.

“Shit,” Harry whispered getting away from the wall as Ron swung his axe once more.

His mind began to go into doubletime as the ever present Hermione-like conscious was there trying to lead him through this all. `Alright, how do I fight him when he is like this?'

`How would you normally fight him?' It even sounded like her.

`I wouldn't.' Harry thought as he parried the blade of the axe before getting a good swing in with his left hand. He watched Ron stumble backward, and it only seemed to agitate him more. `That did not work. Shit' He began to parry more and more aggressive attacks trying to find a way around this.

`Are you not a bloody wizard?!' Hermione's voice echoed through his head and he could not help but look at her for a moment. She gave him a quizzical looked before his mind went immediately back to the bout at hand.

`I'm a wizard,' he realized, as his mind went through his vast list of spells. He had one to give him a short advantage, but doubted its results.

`Use it.' The voice seemed very forceful about this.

“Here goes nothing,” Harry muttered underneath his breath. With a quick parry he rolled around Ron and held his katana level to the ground, pointing it directly at Ron's head. “Solaris!”

A great burst of light came forth from Harry's wand. It was one of the spells he had learned while studying before hand. It was an advanced form of Lumos that momentarily blinded an opponent. And he liked the results.

As the spell ended, Harry moved around to Ron's back side once more. Ron had turned into the spell and could not block it like Harry blocked his. But the best part was the dazed and confused look in Ron's face, and his eyes, almost completely blank. But even now he could see the snake growing larger as Ron swung angrily around.

`What is that snake thing?'

`I don't know, but it has to be what is controlling him,' the voice responded.

“Where are you Harry?” Ron asked in a voice that was not his own. “Using some expensive technique to blind me?”

“What kind of superficial idiot are you?” Harry moved behind Ron once more and hit him in the back with his hilt. Ron stumbled and swung his axe low as he tried to regain his balance. Harry moved out of the way, but was not quick enough this time. One blade went through the front of his left calf.

“Aaaaaaaaaah!” Harry screamed. He half jumped and half limped away as Ron swung his axe once more. He looked down at his leg. Although there was no blood, the pants he was wearing now held a large gash in them. His entire leg felt like it was on fire and he began to limp around. Whatever advantage he held over Ron in speed was gone. He'd have to get at least one full attack in, possible two.

Ron was still blind. The spell had lasted longer than Harry expected and that gave him his chance. “Wingardium Leviosa!” Harry pointed his katana at Ron and despite the redhead's efforts he was lifted off the ground. He limped his way toward Ron. As much as he disliked the idea, it was the only one that came to mind. He let Ron drop to the floor, and in the moment when he friend was still unsure of where he was, Harry gave two quick swipes with his katana: one through Ron's left arm and one through his right leg. Both attacks had been more complete then the one Ron tried against Harry.

It was now Harry realized the dark cloud forming underneath Ron. And the people in the room with them were no longer in sight.

“You want to play rough?” Ron said with a slight hiss to his voice. His eyes had turned blood red now, and it gave him a more sinister look as he stood and the black cloud began to form around them. “Then you've found it.”

“What are you?” Harry asked as the person he knew as Ron began to change.

“Don't you recognize me?” Ron asked. His skin began to turn paler and the red eyes just turned darker. “You don't know your old friend Tom?”

“Why?” Harry asked, barely getting it out. Whatever Ron had become, he still was affected by the two blade swipes. He limped about, but it was not as severe as Harry's.

“Well your friend was the easiest target,” Tom said laughing. “And the fool that you are believed that he would accept you answer. He still doesn't. He has been in control all this time; I've just fed him some more appropriate emotions.” He looked over at Harry and laughed once more. “To think he actually was going to apologize. Pathetic.”

“How did you do this?” Harry asked, trying to stand tall. But a gripping fear seemed to be pulling him down and the ever familiar screams of his parents began to ring through his head. Hs right hand on his katana, held tightly. He still had it pointing at Tom, but that did not stop him from reaching for the three orbs in pocket.

“And spool all of my fun by telling you, not a chance,” said the high pitched voice. “Now, this seems a bit too heavy for my liking.” Tom waved his hand and the axe shifted to a sword, one a great deal thicker than Harry's. “Much better to kill you with.”

“No spells?” Harry asked, stalling for time. He held one of his orbs in his hands and glanced down at it. Vaguely he saw a red wolf? running about in it. He did not have time to look any further. Tom came charging at him, a green flame engulfing his sword. Harry parried it, the magic flowing into his sword once more, and brought forth the red flame.

“I've found that more sorrow comes from a death long and painful,” said the cold voice. “Now, prepare to die.” Harry's hand reached back into his pocket and pull out another orb. Grasping it in his left, Harry swung his katana in his right, forcing Tom to return, but the flame on the blade grew and followed the dark lord. The screams became louder and louder as they fought.

“What kind of magic is that?” Tom asked with a laughed. The orb in Harry's hand had dimmed; he dropped it to the floor and he reached once more into his pocket. He pulled out the remaining two, and there was a fireball dancing in one and the red wolf in the other. The wolf shook his head, and Harry could only guess what that meant, because Tom had taken the time to attack Harry once more. This time, the blade did not hold the green flame to it but Harry still managed to get hit by.

There was no passing through his skin this time, the blade cut deep into his left arm, and it took a great amount of will to hold onto the orbs. Concentrating on the fireball, he raised his left arm and felt the fire that was there before grow and extend toward Tom, who just laughed at him.

“Pitiful attempts, child,” spat Tom. “Avada Kedarva!” The green spell came faster than Harry expected. But before he could do anything else, with his left hand still raised, a large veil of flames appeared. “What is that?” Tom stumbled as the veil took the spell without dispersing.

Harry stood in awe as he watched a man made of flames step out of the veil. But that was not what surprised him the most. It was the face of the man.

“Sirius?” Harry asked, holding his left arm in his right hand.

“I told you I would protect you,” the figure of flames said with a smile. The figured turned toward Tom who stood in shock still.

“You can not harm me,” said Tom as his face turned stone cold once more.

“You harmed my godson,” Sirius said and as he ran toward Tom, he transformed into the large dog, Harry would have killed to see once more, made of flames. And Padfoot began to run around Tom, building a circle of fire. Tom became trapped in the circle, but that did not stop the screams from ringing in Harry's ears.

“Fight it Harry,” Sirius's voice said. “Remember what Moony taught you about Dementors; use it here, Harry.”

“Sirius,” Harry looked as the man's face appeared in the flame.

“Use it Harry,” Sirius said with a smile. “Just remember three bursts of flames and I'll be there to protect you.” Harry nodded holding back the tears. “I love you Harry. I'm always watching over you, and you've done a fine job, son.”

“Bye Sirius,” Harry said, wishing to hug the best friend of his father, his close friend.

“Goodbye Harry,” Sirius said as he face disappeared once more into the flames.

Harry took hold of his memory of Hermione's and his first kiss and raised his right hand. The pain in his left had not died down, nor had the bleeding stopped. “EXPECTO PATRONUM!”

The brilliant white stag burst forth from Harry's wand and stomped the ground twice. Almost immediately, the screams died down, as did the shadow dome around them. Harry dropped his sword and fell to his knees, grasping his left arm. The flames died down as well, and by the time the dome had fallen, so did Tom, or Ron as he was back to normal.

Whatever beast that was inside of Ron was gone. And the world began to move slowly once more. He watched as Mister Weasley and Serge began to rush over to Ron. Hermione was by his side already, and Dumbledore walked purposely over to him.

“Well done Harry,” Dumbledore said with a smile. Hermione took one look at his left arm, touching it lightly. He winced and she nearly clobbered him with a hug.

“Please don't cry Mione,” Harry said, still holding onto his arm. He began to feel lightheaded. She placed her hand over the cut once more and he winced again, but she kept the cooling touch on his hand. The pain began to melt away as she held her hand there.

“Don't move Harry,” said Hermione through her sniffles. “I'll fix it.” She wiped one of her tears with her free hand as she held his left arm. There had been an overwhelming urge to just hold his arm and let her magic mingle with his. And as she held his arm, she began to realize what Guile had truly meant when he told her that she had the healing touch. The wound on Harry's hand was closing up and it was she who had fixed it for him.

“Hermione, what? How?” Harry asked as she let go of his arm. The arm was still caked in his blood, but the pain was no longer there, neither was the wound.

“It seems Hermione has taken another step into her powers,” Dumbledore said with a chuckle. “As have you. One that was expected, but a surprised nevertheless.”

“What are you talking about?” Harry asked as Hermione crushed him once more.

“You were moving so fast,” said Hermione. She buried her head in his neck, needing to be closer to him. “Ron looked like could barely see you, and then you used that spell-”

“Solaris,” said Harry. He could not help but smile at her as she moved further into his embrace.

“Yes, and then he could not see you at all,” said Hermione. Harry just shook his head as she continued to explain the battle from her view. And with every word, a greater fear at how close he came to losing. Hermione told he how skilled Ron was as a fighter, and how if not for his speed, Harry would have lost. That was until he caught Ron off guard and levitated him. “How did you do that with your sword?”

“Katana, Mione,” said Harry; he stroked her head as she hugged him tighter. “And I guess that it worked as a wand as well.”

“Magical weapons do have that ability, Harry,” Dumbledore said with the twinkle in his eyes. “I believe you still have a fight to finish.” They looked over at Ron who staggered to his feet.

“No, they've been through enough,” Hermione said, clinging to Harry. She almost lost him to that dome, and she was not going to lose him again.

“Rules are rules,” said Serge. “And they must follow them. Everyone but you two off the field.” Harry stood up, but kept his arms around Hermione.

“Angel, you've got to let go,” said Harry. “I need to finish what I started.” She nodded but did not let go. “Mione, I love you and yours is the voice that saved me.” She looked out of his chest, a blushing but puzzled look on her face. “I'll tell you when we are done.” He gently handed her over to Dumbledore. With only his kind eyes, Dumbledore promised Hermione Harry's safety.

“Ron,” said Harry. “Let's finish this sportsman's like.”

“What do you mean?” Ron asked, not looking at him. He held his axe once more in his hands and looked like he was having a difficult time standing.

“No weapons, no wands, man-to-man,” Harry said, dropping his katana. “Like God intended.”

“Alright,” said Ron. He dropped his axe and stood slightly taller. “Fists against fists?”

“Yes,” Harry said, rolling up his sleeves.

“Wandless magic?” Ron asked as he copied Harry's moves.

“If you can,” said Harry. He could not help but smile. He could win easily if he wanted to use wandless magic. But something told him that he would not have to do that to have a good fight. A fight that both would be happy with the outcome. Ron nodded once and began to walk toward him.

“You may begin at any time,” said Serge. Both boys nodded and Harry began to walk forward. Once they were within a foot or two of each other, Harry raised his arms in a defense.

The world had slowed down once more and Harry watched as Ron began to swing. Dodging, barely, out of the way, Harry took a swing to Ron's gut. Apparently Ron was not trained in hand-to-hand combat. And having little to no experience in the department himself, Harry felt rather good about it at the point. That was until Ron swung, connecting with his jaws. The world had sped up to the normal speed momentarily as he was hit.

Harry stumbled backward, and spit the blood from his mouth onto the floor. He could not help but smile, and Ron returned it. Standing back up, Harry dodged Ron again, this time with more ease. Harry swung this time, and his Ron in the gut once more. Ron doubled over at the force. Harry stepped back as he waited for Ron to stand up.

“You get everything don't you?” Ron asked as he stood up.

“What are you talking about?” said Harry as they circled around the room.

“The fame, the fortune, and most of all you have Hermione,” said Ron as he swung at Harry once more. The sudden motion caught Harry off guard and connected with his left eye. But as Ron swung, so did Harry. He managed to connect once more to Ron's stomach. Ron coughed up blood onto Harry as he stumbled backward.

“The only thing I ever ask for was Hermione,” said Harry. He gently touched his left eye. He could barely see out of it now, and winced under touching the pieces of glasses embedded in the side of his head. If he had any luck, none would have entered his eye.

“You stole her from me.” Ron swung angrily at Harry. He connected with Harry's face once more, the jaw again. The iron taste filled his mouth as Harry stumbled back.

“I love her, Ron,” said Harry as he stood up. “And your superficial ideas of how life is supposed to be are not going to stop me from loving her.” They circled around once more, not taking their eyes off the other. He was beginning to lose all of his sight in his left eye, and had to tilt his head to look at Ron.

“You're not winning this time!” Ron moved quickly into the ever growing blind spot in Harry's vision. “She will love ME!” Harry stumbled at the impact of Ron's hand to the side of his head. It quickly was followed by four to five hits to his ribs. He fell to the ground, coughing up blood. Shaking his head once, he tried in vain to gain some more control over his sense and climb fully back to his feet. Ron had moved back into his range of vision and was talking, but Harry could not hear a word he was saying. He did however make the words out “Hermione” and “love me.”

With a primal roar, Harry tackled Ron. Ron weakly tried to block the fury of punches that Harry laid upon him. “I LOVE HERMIONE!” Harry roared as he felt the fury grow in his heart. How dare this man try to steal his love? How dear did this man attempt to take over his Mione? Harry watched as Ron's lip slip open and his eyes began to turn purple, but he did not stop. He did not stop as his hearing returned and he could hear Ron's pleas. No damn sound would stop him, not even that dam buzzing sound growing louder and louder. He was going to beat it into Ron's mind if he had to: Hermione was his.

“Harry, stop,” Hermione yelled. Harry had his left fist raised and looked up at her, then back at Ron. Harry flinched backward and tried to crawl away as he saw what he had done. Two stronghands on his shoulders stopped him.

“Relax, chief, its over,” Serge said, stopping Harry from moving any further. Hermione came running over to him as he watched the Weasleys go over to Ron. “You've won.” Hermione surrounded him in a hug and held him tightly, causing Harry winced underneath the pressure.

“Best get you looked at by Madame Pomfrey,” Dumbledore said as he walked over. Harry vaguely saw Dumbledore's gaze turn to Serge. “And you best get on your journey. You know where they are?” Serge must have nodded because Harry heard neither an answer nor a response from Dumbledore. There was another moment of silence and the sound of footsteps approaching. “Madame Pomfrey is currently taking care of Ron, but we do have another healer who has appeared for a few short hours.”

“Harry, don't move,” said Guile's voice. “I'm going to hand Hermione a potion that she will apply to your chest and your brow. While she is working on the chest, I will be removing the pieces of glass from your eyes. I'm taking your glasses now, so it may be fuzzy for a while.” Harry nodded and felt Hermione shift and his shirt lift up. “Don't speak while were doing thing Harry.” He nodded once more. “I won't lie to you, this will hurt. Bite down on this.” Harry opened his mouth and bit down on a round wooden cylinder that soon tasted of iron. He shuddered in pain as he felt two sharp and sudden pains surround his left eye. It soon was followed by two more, but a cooling relaxing sensation overcame him as he felt Hermione's hand on his bruised ribs.

Harry relaxed and winced alternating as the two of them worked. He could make out only Hermione's face and the concentrated look upon it. She was biting her lower lip as she worked, and he could not help but feel better just by knowing that she was helping him. Another figure stepped out into his vision but remained blurry as the two tirelessly worked.

“Thank you Harry,” said Mister Weasley. “Thank you for removing that demon from my son.”

“What are you talking about? Was it that thing that escaped from Ron's chest?” Hermione asked.

“We have believed for some time, that after a trip to Diagon Alley, Ron was taken under the control of You-Know-Who,” said mister Weasley. “We did not fully understand it at the time and still do not. We had no idea how the demon gained control of his or how long it has been brooding within Ron, or how to remove it. I have feared for my son for so long, Harry, because of th-th-that demon, that thing. It changed him. And we could do nothing to stop it Harry. When that dome came up, I knew that only you could remove it from my son. We saw it dissolve Harry, screaming in pain; it flew out of the Ron when he was on the ground. Dumbledore captured it and as of now, it is safely being held captive in his office for further studies. Thank you for bringing my son back to me, to my family; I am eternally in your debt.” There was a crack of emotion in Mister Weasley's voice. Harry would have said something in response, but a long, sharp pain overcame his head. He bit down onto the cylinder as hard as he could. Not even Hermione's cooling touch that over took it soon could remove his mind from the pain.

“Done,” said Guile. “Now, I want you to lean back. I'm going to be pouring a solution on both of your eyes to help correct any damage that may have occurred in that one as well from your spell. I'll take that.” He took the wooden cylinder and Harry felt himself being pushed back by a force on his chest.

“Harry, relax,” said Hermione as her fingered tapped on his ribs. “He's helping you.

“Yes, Mione,” said Harry, as the weight shifted on his chest. “You just have to stay were you are.”

“Now, I'm going to pour this solution in on,” said Guile. “Hermione, his initial reaction will be to sit up, stop him. He needs to stay lying down in order for this to work properly.”

“Alright,” said Hermione. He felt her sitting up, but she kept her hands on his chest. Harry reached his hand up, tracing Hermione's lips. She began to giggle and he started to smile until someone slapped his hand away. He thought it was Hermione until Guile spoke.

“Harry, I need you to relax,” said Guile forcefully. “You two can get back to your teenage hormones in a few minutes. If you ever want to see again, let me work.” Harry moved his arms to Hermione's waist, lightly tapping her sides causing her to squirm. “Here it goes. Close your eyes.”

Harry felt something cold dripping on his eyes and had the urge to sit up, but Hermione held him down. The solution began to fill up his eyes like tears and run down it. He had never felt something as cold as that before. In fact, cold was an understatement. He felt like his eyes were frozen shut and that the solution had frozen to his cheeks. But slowly, it all ran off, forming a wet puddle around him. He felt his head being lifted and something being wrapped around his eyes.

“For this to work, Harry, the eyes need to heal on their own as well,” said Guile as he worked on the bandage. “I want you to keep this one for the remainder of the day and until lunch tomorrow. So about twenty-four hours.” Harry nodded as he sat up, but kept his hands on Hermione's waist.

“You'll have to be my eyes then Mione,” Harry said to her. She giggled as he began to tap her sides lightly. He turned serious as he heard a moan across the room. “Will Ron be okay?” Harry asked.

“He'll be fine,” said Dumbledore. “Madame Pomfrey is working on his right now. Most of the external wounds have been taken care of.”

“That reminds me, Harry drink this,” said Guile. He must have handed something to Hermione, because he felt her hands on the back of his neck and a vile at his lips. The cool liquid had no taste to it, but that was taken away by the blood in his mouth. As the liquid was drained into his mouth and he swallowed, Harry felt the cuts healing inside his mouth. “Your mouth may be hoarse for a while, so Hermione while have to speech for you as well.” There were chuckles all around him, but that did not matter to Harry at the moment.

With his hands, Harry searched for Hermione's face. He found her bushy hair and softly ran his fingers through it, attempting to find her face. She must have sensed his need because he felt her hair turn away from him, and his fingers met with her nose. With her face looking at him, he moved his hands back around her head and leaned in to capture the prize he had wanted for the last few hours. When he felt Hermione lean further into the kiss, he only deepened it.

“Harry, although you may not be able to see, the people around you still can,” said Dumbledore. Harry pulled away and felt his face heating up. He muttered a sorry as he felt Hermione lean into his chest. “Lunch will be served shortly, you two, and then you may return to your room.”

Harry wanted to ask the headmaster about Ron, but when he opened his mouth, it was too hoarse to do so. Somehow, Hermione voiced his question for him. “Will Ron be alright?”

“From the small fight that Harry and Mister Weasley had, he is doing remarkably, but it is what that spell or creature did to him that has us all worried,” said Dumbledore with sadness in his voice. “For the most part, I believe that the immediate danger of it is out of the way and we will have no more worries, but it is the long term affects that have me worried. I'll tell you more once we know more.”

“Thank you professor,” said Hermione as she stood up from Harry's lap. Harry needed her more than ever at the moment, and she was not going anywhere without him. “Come on Harry.” She picked up his hand in her own and helped him stand. He squeezed her hand lightly as he stood up off the floor. He wrapped his arm around her waist like he did when his head still hurt, and slowly, Hermione led Harry from the room and to the dining room.

Harry felt awkward being led everywhere and being helped into his seat. He did not like the fact that he could not speak or see for that matter. And he liked to be the one taking care of everyone. That was his job. He vaguely heard Hermione say something and felt a sudden change in his chair. It was longer and felt a huge empty space next to him now. He felt Hermione slide up next to him and lean her head against his shoulder.

“I don't think Dumbledore will mind,” said Hermione, answering his question. He gave her a questioning look, figuring she would get his message. “Harry, I can read you like a book. And I know you can read me just as well. You may not like it, but for the next day or so, I'm taking care of you.” He nodded, but did not like the idea. “After that, I'll go back to letting you pamper me.” He kissed he lightly at that, feeling the smirk on her mouth. “Now, let me put some food on your plate, so you could at least you can eat yourself.” If he could have laughed, he would have.

A/N: Alright, new chapter. Thank you for the reviews and keep reading. Thank you all.

Chapter 8:

Learning

“Truth is more of a stranger than fiction”- Mark Twain

Harry had eaten his lunch quickly and avoiding looking any where other than his plate or Hermione. Not the he could see; it was just that every time he looked in Hermione's direction, he could see her face and beautiful eyes staring up at him. A sigh of content told him all he needed to hear as she rested her head on his shoulder. He could not help but place his head over hers as the day began to talk its toll. Hermione must have noticed because he felt her stand up.

“Sir, I'm taking Harry back to our room if that is alright,” Hermione said as she picked up Harry's hand.

“Very well,” Dumbledore said to her with a smile. “I will talk to you two tomorrow after lunch, I suggest you continue your studies Hermione.” He gave her a knowing look and she just nodded under everyone's gaze. He wanted her to teach Harry Occlumency. Dumbledore had confessed to her that he could not teach it to Harry himself as of the connection to Voldemort. She had started to study it before the memorial service, but had not picked up the book on it since. Now seemed like a perfect time for her to help Harry. “Serge will not be with us for the balance of the week, Hermione.” She looked up at him confused. Serge had already left them, on a mission she assumed. “He has asked that you keep Grace entertained for some time.”

“I would be our pleasure,” Hermione voiced for both her and Harry. Harry looked at her, questioning her sanity. Although he had no problem entertaining Grace, he just wondered what they would be doing, and more importantly, when they would be with her.

“Good, you may retire until I call for dinner,” Dumbledore said with a smile. “Grace may come looking for you after a while.” Hermione nodded, looking forward to interacting with the younger girl. “And tomorrow we'll discuss further training sessions. For now, I want you both to continue to study.”

“Yes, sir,” Hermione said, as Harry stood up and she led him out of the room. She was careful not to lead him into anything as they proceeded to their room. She expected Harry to take a nap as she refreshed her mind on Occlumency and Legilimency. She knew it would be important for Harry to master Occlumency and possible Legilimency.

By the time they reached their room, Hermione could tell Harry was beginning to drift off. She led him to the bed and as she helped him down, he grabbed hold of her and pulled her with him. “Harry!” Hermione said in part shock and in part laughter. “Let me go.” He shook his head as he buried it in her shoulder. The bandages around his head were rough, but his hair felt good against her skin. “Harry, I have to study, we have to study.” He reluctantly let go and lay against the pillows, facing the ceiling. “Harry, don't give me that look, you know I can't stand that look.” She just stared at him, trying to remain firm, as he pouted, and gave her puppy dog eyes, or at least the facial equivalent of them. “Fine, let me get my books and I will lie down next to you.” He nodded and gave her that smile.

Sighing, Hermione went over to the bookshelves and began to grab the books she wanted to look through. Harry was the reason she worked so hard, trying to be the best witch possible. She wanted to be worthy of his friendship, and despite being told by him that she was, she still had a thirst to prove it to herself. She had to prove to the world that she loved Harry for who his inside and not the superficial one that Ron and the rest of the world sometimes saw. Finding the two books she needed, she turned back to the bed to see had removed his shirt and was underneath the covers.

“You are enjoying this aren't you?” Hermione said, as she looked at his bare chest. He looked over at her, the questioning look apparent. “How do you do that? You can make the same looks without those emeralds of yours.” She sat with her back to the head of the bed, positioning herself so she could play with Harry's hair in one hand. He gave her a noncommittal shrug before turned to drape his arm over her legs and move his head to her lap. “You are enjoying this way too much Harry.” She giggled as she opened her book and began to read to herself.

Harry remained on her lap, falling in a deep sleep. Hermione knew he was exhausted and that everything was over with, but she could not get over what Dumbledore and her had discussed during Harry's and Ron's fight. Hermione was very upset over the fact that they were fighting over her like a prize. She confided this to her great-grandfather, telling him how much she abhorred the idea. He agreed with her completely because he believed that they could work it without resorting to fighting. Yet as they had proved the day before, Ron and Harry could not solve this alone by words. In her heart, Hermione knew that Ron would not be swayed by words either. And had Harry not been as against it as he was, maybe she would have hated it even more. But as he spoke to Ron throughout the fight, his voice was filled with rage and, more importantly, passion. She knew of wandless magic reacting to anger and fury, but when the glasses around them broke as Harry said those three words, Hermione felt a sense of pride rise up in her chest along with the fear. She was the one who gave him such strength. Strength that she would undoubtedly have to help him control.

The books she had were very similar, in that they both spoke of needing to relax and organizing the mind to have the full potential of Occlumency. The mental shields were very potent in that they often would reflect greater mental attacks when a person was at ease or not stressed. But as the stress increases so does the amount of energy exuded during the exercises. But what surprised her most was the Patronus charm. The books stated that the charm itself was proof that just about any capable wizard or witch would have some skill in Occulmency.

The charm was designed to be an outward defense against mental probes from Dementors. Dementors dive into the minds of people and feed upon happy memories. By performing the Patronus charm, a mental shield is built up that can be seen. The more powerful the shield, the more definite and potent the charm is for a person and therefore, the more powerful a person can be in Occulmency. She sat back in deep thought as she finished reading.

Hermione had seen Harry perform the Patronus charm, on more than one occasion. His was the most powerful she had ever see, and it had driven away at least twelve Dementors. This was in their third year. If Harry had been able to do that powerful of a charm in his third year, to that large of decree, how powerful could he be in Occulmency, let alone Legilimency. Harry no doubt would be an accomplished Legilimens as well as an Occlumens. By why had he failed in his lessons with Professor Snape? She shook her head at the bluntness of the question.

Professor Snape loathed Harry because it reminds him of James Potter. Looking down at the childlike sleeping form of Harry, she could not begin to see how everyone saw James in him. Yes they physically were similar, but from what she had read about Lily and what Professor Lupin had told her, Harry was more like him mother every day. His devotion to his loved ones in indefinable, but that is what makes him Harry.

She kissed Harry's forehead lightly as she began to think about the day again. Dumbledore had told her that Harry had progress a step further in his specialty, but how was going faster than normal a step up? She had healed his hand, but the professor was more impressed with Harry's speed.

If she was going to be truthful, she was jealous of that. She always had been jealous of the relationship that Harry and Dumbledore had. They could speak so freely with one another that it seemed like a grandson-grandfather relationship. Maybe it was because she never had one either that she was jealous. A knock upon the door snapped her out of her reverie.

“Hermione?” Grace peaked her head through the door. “May I come in?”

“Sure,” Hermione said, closing the books on her lap. She did not bother to move Harry's head, but continued to play with his hair. A sigh was the only reply out of him. “What do you want?”

“I wanted to know if you wanted to do something,” Grace said, coming into the room. At first she sounded excited, but then seemed disappointed. “But I can see that you're busy.”

“No, I'm not,” Hermione said, sliding Harry's head off her lap. She heard him whimper but kissed his forehead to stop it. “Come over here.” She patted the spot next to her, hoping Grace would come. As much as she wanted to talk to the younger girl, the need to keep Harry safe was greater.

“Okay,” Grace said, bounding over to the bed. “I wanted to ask you a question.”

“Well, I'm always here,” Hermione said. She climbed up on the bed and moved to Hermione's side.

“I wanted know if I'm a bad person,” Grace looked down at her lap.

“What?” Hermione felt her jaw drop. Did this young girl really think that? “Why do you think that?”

“My dad left me again,” Grace said with unshed tears. “And I don't know if he's coming back.” Hermione felt a strong urge to gather Grace in her arms, like when her little sister would have a bad dream and come to her for comfort but thought she was too old to go to her parents.

“Well, you do know that you an I are related right?” Hermione said, trying to comfort her. Grace nodded and Hermione could not help but wrap an arm around the younger girl. “You are my cousin,” Hermione smiled at confused face on the little girl, “which means that I love you. Your father is doing something to my family out.”

“What's he doing?” Grace asked wiping away the tears. Something in the young girl's eyes made Hermione realize how alike she and Harry were.

Both must have grown up with a childhood of little love, and both still acted childish with emotion. Granted, Grace was still a child, and having found her father, she clung to him desperately. Harry clung to his friends and Sirius like lifelines. Knowing Harry, Hermione knew that he needed to know people cared about him, and a look into the young girl's eyes told her that Grace needed it too.

“He's bringing them home,” Hermione said with a smile. “You can then meet my sister.”

“You have a sister?” Grace said, surprised. Hermione nodded.

“I think she is going to be accepted into Hogwarts this year, I hope she is,” Hermione said, playing with Harry's hair.

“What's she like?” Grace asked.

“Well, she is a lot like you, full a questions,” Hermione said, causing the young girl to laugh. “My mother and father are apprehensive about her going if she does. They are very worried about being lonely.”

“My dad keeps saying the same thing,” Grace said with a small smile. She lost it as she asked her next question. “What's a mother like?”

Hermione stopped twirling Harry's hair at this. She did not expect this type of question from her. “Well, um…” Hermione's voice trailed off as she thought about it. “A mother is a person that loves you without regard for her own life. She gives you a hug when you need it most; she'll be there for you without question, supporting your every move. A mother is someone that a child looks to for the compassion and love in their lives.” She turned and gathered Grace in her arms. Small tears were falling down her face, and Hermione wiped them away.

“Does my mother love me?” Grace asked, crying into Hermione's shoulder.

“Yes,” Hermione said in no more than a whisper.

“Than why did she leave me in that horrible place?” Grace said. “Dad keeps saying that she loved me enough to keep me safe, but I was tortured there. They made fun of me and they made me feel like a freak...”

“Grace, can I say something?” Harry said, supporting his head by his elbow. The girl nodded into Hermione's shoulder. “Your mother loved you because she moved you out of a horrible place where you were sure to be hurt physical and possible be killed.” Hermione gave him a strange look, when did he wake up and when did he get his voice back? “Now, I never knew my parents but that does not mean they did not love me. You may not know your mother, but I have a feeling she loves you.” Hermione watched as he gave the young girl a smile and laid his head back on Hermione's lap.

“Thank you Harry,” Grace said, moving from Hermione's arms to crushing Harry in a hug. Hermione saw Harry wince, but he did not pull away. “I have a question for you Harry.”

“Shoot,” Harry said, sitting up straight with the help of Hermione.

“Can Hermione sit next to me tonight?”

“You'll have to ask her,” Harry said with a smile. Hermione was taken back at the statement.

“Can I Hermione?” Grace asked with pleading eyes.

“Sure,” Hermione said. “But I have to fix Harry's plate first.” Grace nodded and gave Hermione a hug. Taken back by it, Hermione finally gained enough sense to return the hug. “And tomorrow, we'll teach you a few Muggle games.” Grace nodded again, a smile plastered across her face.

“Leave now, I've got a few more hours `til dinner and I want to sleep,” Harry said, lying back down in the bed. Grace hugged him once more too before hopping off the bed and going out the door. She popped her head back in once more, looking at Hermione.

“Do you mind if I play with Crookshanks a little more?” Grace looked at her.

“Sure, he'll see enough of me during the year,” Hermione said with a smile. Grace skipped out the room and closed the door behind her.

“Now let me rest,” Harry said returning to his position in her lap. Hermione giggled and flushed as he made sure his head was comfortable.

“Fine,” Hermione said, faking a sigh. She picked her books up again and began to read once more. She felt Harry relax as she played with his hair, humming a tune to herself.

Hermione spent the remainder of the afternoon reading the books. She barely was able to summon the healing book that she was reading before, with Harry shifting in her lap as she performed the spell.

“You just have to be difficult,” Hermione said mock-glaring at him as he woke up. He moved so he was laying face up in her lap. She continued to play with his hair as he lay there. “We have to go down for dinner you know.”

“I know, I'm just wondering how I'm going to eat tonight,” Harry said, smiling. “I know I didn't do to bad at lunch, but it just seems harder now that you're sitting across from me.”

“Harry, I'll still fix your plate for you,” Hermione said, kissing the bandages. She looked down at him for a moment. “I just want to see your emerald eyes again.” She whispered as Harry smiled.

“I could go without seeing Hermione forever, because your face and image have been engraved into my very soul,” Harry said, sitting up and placing a hand on her cheek. “It's your comforting voice that I could not live without. It's the touch of your gentle hands that make me realize that life is worth living.”

“You haven't seen all of me,” Hermione flirted. Harry's face turned a bright red and his jaw opened and closed. Hermione felt her face matching Harry's as he leaned into kiss her.

The sheer emotion within the kiss was incredible. Hermione had never felt anything like it. And with Harry's tongue running across her lips, begging for entrance, she could only give in. She melted onto the bed as she got her first taste of him, reminiscent of peppermint and butterbeer. After some quality time together, they broke the kiss, both with labored breathing.

“Wow…” Hermione finally said.

“The day will come Mione, the day will come,” Harry whispered kissing her lightly on the lips once more, but pulling back before she could deepen it.

“Tease,” she said, playfully hitting his arm. “What day?”

“You'll know it when you feel it,” Harry whispered to her. “Now, I'm starving, so lead me to the dinning room.” Hermione waited for a moment or two. “Please?” Harry asked. Hermione giggled at his face. Somehow, he gave her the equivalent of a pout without using his eyes.

“You know it won't always be this easy,” Hermione said with a sigh, picking up his hand. Inside she was melting at love she felt radiating off of him.

“Yes it will,” Harry said as he slid to the side of the bed. Hermione slid off the bed and stood up, taking Harry with her.

Hermione smiled to herself as she led Harry down to the dinning room. Harry had not changed since losing his eyes, the same qualities she had often used his eyes to see still shone through in other ways. He ran his hand through his hair, showing his anxiety about the upcoming dinner. She knew Ron would probable be there. She could only hope that Ron would not say anything stupid in front of Harry. Being blind, it probably was worse for Harry; he would lash out at anyone.

“Harry, before we go in, I want you to promise me something,” Hermione said, stopping in front of the double doors.

“Anything for you Mione,” Harry said, smiling. She blushed, like she had a thousand times before. She still could not get over the name and the protection and love that seemed to be wrapped around it.

“I want you to try and remain calm if Ron is in there,” Hermione said in one breath. Harry looked at her strangely.

“Hermione, he has to be the one to initiate the conversation, not me,” Harry said with a small smirk. “One I don't plan on talking to him until he apologizes, to me and you. You set my plate up for me, and I'll be fine.”

“You'll tell me if you need anything right?” Hermione asked.

“Do I really have to tell you?” Harry countered. He knew she was blushing; that kind of statement would do that to her. Now that she and he had conquered whatever problem lay within Ron, Harry believed she was beginning to fall back into her normal shy mode. He loved to get a rise out of her or tease her in public, just to see her reaction. Not that he could see, but he knew her like the back of his hand, could not see that really either.

“Harry Potter,” she cried, laughing over her blush. He gave her a lop-sided grin causing her to blush once more. “Thank you,” she lean into his chest and met his lips, giving him a short, but intense kiss. He was taken back by it slightly, but as she pulled back, she felt the smile on his lips. “You ready?”

“As ready as I'll ever be,” Harry said, giving her another grin. She opened the door for him and guided him toward the seat he normally was in. The Weasleys had not entered yet, and as Hermione walked around the table to sit next to Grace, she began to wonder if they would.

“Mind if I sit here?” Hermione looked up to Dumbledore who held a twinkle within his eyes. She shook her head as the old man pulled out the chair and sat down. “You may wish to prepare Harry's plate now. I told the Weasleys' to come down in about five minutes, best if he gets his food before anyone of them does.” He chuckled to himself as Hermione blushed and prepared Harry's plate.

Dumbledore greeted Grace as he prepared a plate for the younger girl. Harry turned to look at her, somehow he knew she was staring, but returned to his conversation with Guile. Both were talking in very hush voices, and Hermione could not help but feel a familiar sense of being left out.

“Now, don't worry, Hermione, I doubt Harry will keep it from you,” Dumbledore said with a smile.

“Hermione, can you explain to me the Muggle games now,” Grace asked as she began to eat. Hermione smiled and fixed herself a plate as she began to explain a few of the simpler games to Grace, and Dumbledore who chuckled from time to time about the conversation.

Harry was in the deep throws of a conversation with Guile at the moment. He seemed to be trying to explain to him the ideas of souls being connected through time and space. Guile had explained the idea behind the innate colors: red, blue, black, white, green, and yellow. These colors corresponded with the innate color of ones soul, or so Guile said. The colors personified some of the qualities with a person, particularly some of the strongest ones. Harry understood that much, but it was what came next that began to confuse him. He knew that he would have to have Hermione analyze this because he barely could himself.

The idea was that a soul was, in reality, made up of two innates, sometimes opposing ones, some times corresponding, but always two. But the importance of this was that at the beginning of time, when it was singular, as Guile explained it (which made no sense to Harry), that the innates were split and separated into two people. This two people were meant to get together, always, until the end of time. Sometimes fate would not allow that, but in general, as Guile put it, she had the understanding that this must happen to keep order in the world.

If that was not bad enough, Guile began to explain the possibilities of different worlds, where the same innates existed, and the people were still similar in their personalities. These people were probably lived in different times, different places, different regions, and completely different lives. But what made them so similar was the decisions, big and small, they made in their lives. People, who die in one world, may wake up in another world and think the world they were just living in was a dream. But no matter what, the two parts of the souls, the two innates would meet up, because fate had deemed it so. Harry placed his hands on his head, trying to massage it through the bandages.

“Harry, are you okay?” Hermione asked him. She was watched him as she ate an explained the games to both Grace and Dumbledore. She ended up inviting Dumbledore to enjoy a game with them, seeing as it would be more fun with more people. Harry looked up at her, stilling trying to sort everything that he had just been told.

Had Guile in more words that less told him that no matter what the situation, Harry would always have been with Hermione? Thinking now, Harry believed he had lied. He could not live without seeing Hermione's eyes. He knew that now as he stared ahead into the darkness. Slowly, he reached his hand forward, without knowing what was in front of him, toward where he thought her to be. He heard a gasp and moved his arm to the left slightly before reaching forward and grasping her hand in his.

Hermione could not believe it. Harry had reached across the table without touching the food in his plate or around him. He did it without knocking over one of the candles before them, or any of the goblets. But what surprised her the most was when he grabbed her hand, and the calming sensation that made her body relaxed. Without saying a word, Harry had answered her question. And all was right in the world.

* * * * *

`All is definitely not right in the world.' Hermione thought. Dinner was progressing so well, until the Weasleys came in, particularly the youngest redhead.

Harry seemed to be regaining some of the happiness in his life that was there before their fourth year, before Voldemort returned. Hermione could hear it in his voice as he laughed along with some of the twin's jokes and mirth. He needed this kind of life, carefree and happy, especially after the previous two years. She knew he had never told anyone really what he had seen that night of Voldemort, nor how it had affected him. Although every bone in her body told her to try and get it out of him, she knew he would talk when he was ready, telling her everything. He was a dam with a leak that grew. Once the leak started, it did not stop until the dam was gone.

The dam held strong through most of dinner as they discussed everything from Quidditch to Hogwarts. Hermione had to explain the game to Grace, who became engrossed in it as the twins, Harry, Bill, Charlie, and even Ron talked about the upon coming year.

But she could see the glances Ron was giving her. She caught his eye once or two, and he turned away blushing. A knot began to grow in her stomach; she knew the look that Ron was giving her, they were like the ones Krum had given her during their fourth year. She hated those types of looks: ones of lust and desire. She looked over at Harry as he laughed at something George said and sighed. She wanted to see his eyes again, she wanted to see the look of love, and hope, and everything else he represented to her.

Ron said nothing to her until the end of dinner. Hermione waited for everyone to leave the dinning room before leading Harry back to their room, when Ron came up and asked to speak to her in private. Seeing nothing wrong with it, Hermione told Harry that he should let Dumbledore lead him back to their room. Harry nodded, and she could see the sadness on his face, until she leaned over to him and kissed him lightly on the nose. She then whispered softly into his ear saying she would continue it later. He blushed immediately and returned her smile. Hermione turned to see Ron frowning, but he lost it once he noticed she saw him. This is were she was left.

“What do you want to talk about?” Hermione asked, feeling slightly uncomfortable under the gaze Ron was giving her.

“Lots of things,” Ron said, motioning toward the chairs. She nodded and walked over to one. Ron beat her to it and pulled it out for her. She gave him a weak smile; he returned a toothy grin, one with a look that she did not like behind it.

Hermione sat and took a few moments to look him over. His skin was still red, for reasons Harry would have to explain later, and his left eyes were still bruised. He had a few cuts that were still healing on his face, but from earlier in the day, he did look better.

“Like what you see?” Ron smirked.

“Huh?” Hermione said confused. Ron shook his head, telling her to forget about it. “What did you want to talk about?” She asked again.

“Well, I wanted to talk about us,” Ron started. She looked up at him again, confused. Ron continued before giving her a chance to talk. “I like you, Herms,” she flinched at this but he did not notice, “a lot actually. I've liked you for a long time, and I think I'm in love with you.” Ron looked up at her, expectantly. Hermione sat there, analyzing everything Ron had just said; she needed more information before she could let him down gently.

“How long?” she asked, not meeting his gaze. She was never good at letting boys down; her only experience was with Krum and both of them still kept in contact with each other.

“I don't know, since second year,” Ron said. She took a chance and looked up at him. His face was a bright red like his hair. If it was another situation, she would have laughed. “I didn't realize it until fourth year when you came down for the ball.”

Hermione nodded. Ron was dense, and he had to bring up that memory. She hated that night because of him. For the first time, the only time for that matter, Krum treated her with respect and dignity. Harry did too, and a look at him that night, she had wanted to dance with him, just once would have been good enough for her. But Ron had ruined that night for her. It took her all she could not to drop a tear at that moment.

“Why do you like me?” Hermione said. She needed to know this. She knew the reasons why Harry loved her; they had more or less told each other everything, and if they did not say it, it was seen in their eyes.

“Everyone says we would be perfect together,” Ron said, look at her. His smile seemed to growing larger.

“Is that the only reason?” Hermione asked still not understanding. Ron shrugged his shoulders, and she figured that this was the extent of what she would be getting out of him.

“There is one more,” Ron said as Hermione made a move to stand up. “You're not safe around him.” She was taken back by this comment. She fell back into her chair and let him continue. How could Ron say that? “Every time we go on an adventure with him, you or I end up getting hurt. I don't want you hurt Herms.” She flinched again, and once again Ron did not take notice.

“Harry would never hurt me,” she said in less than a whisper.

“Intentionally maybe not, but last Herms, you got hit by that curse, you had to take those potions every day,” Ron stated. Hermione nodded, and her analytical brain began to work overtime. Yes she had been hurt, but Harry had insisted, he always had, that the two of them stay out of trouble. He always put his friendship before his own safety and did everything in his power to keep them safe.

“Ron, he never wanted us to go in the first place,” Hermione said, pleading Harry's case. After a few weeks of it healing, she rubbed her chest once more. The scar was still there, and she just now thought to ask Madame Pomfrey for a cosmetic potion.

“But we did, and you got hurt,” Ron yelled, looking at her trying to understand something.

“Thank you for sharing that with the household Ron,” Harry said, from the open door. Ron looked surprised at his friend, but Hermione could tell there was anger beneath the mask.

“Harry it wasn't your fault,” Hermione pleaded with him. She stood up from her chair and embraced him. His body stiffened under the touch.

“Mione, I'm the reason you were hurt that year,” Harry said, tears falling from underneath the bandages. “I'm the reason you had to suffer those potions. I'm the reason Neville got a busted nose; I'm the reason Ginny twisted her ankle; I'm the reason Ron still probably has those scars running up and down his arms, not to mention the ones in his mind.” Hermione only held him tighter at this.

“I wasn't you fault, you told us we shouldn't have come,” Hermione said.

“You tried to explain to me that Sirius wasn't really there, and to let the Order take care of it, Mione,” Harry said. He brought his hand up, and moved it around until he found her cheek. He began to stroke it gently, feeling tears falling down over his fingers. “If I had listened to you-”

“They would have found another way,” Hermione said sure of herself.

“Maybe not, Hermione,” Ron said from his seat. She turned and glared at him. He shrunk back further into his seat.

“Harry, Voldemort, for Christ's sake Ron, it just a name,” Hermione stopped short in her statement as Ron flinched at the name. She continued unfazed though. “Harry Voldemort wants you dead. Luring you to the Ministry using your godfather was just one way that he could have done it. He probably has millions of plans on how to kill you Harry. What you have to realize is that Sirius's death if not you fault.”

“Yes, it is,” Harry said. He found himself being fully pulled into Hermione's embrace, her tears running down his neck. He barely heard her muffled words.

“You say that again you're sleeping alone,” Hermione said. He tried to smile at her, but she would not let him before she had her say. “I'm here for you Harry. You are not alone, you never have been.”

“He never said he was,” Ron said from his seat. Hermione sent him another glare before continuing.

“He's always felt that way Ron, I've seen it in his eyes,” Hermione rubbed her thumb over the bandages. “He has you Ron, and your family; he has Professor Lupin and Hagrid; he has Dumbledore, and my family; but most importantly he has me.” Harry nodded slowly, leaning into her touch. Her words were spoken with care and trust, but most importantly, love. The one thing he had been searching for his entire life, someone to love him unconditionally.

“Ron, you have to realize something as well,” Hermione said, turning around and facing the redhead. He looked taken back at the statement and must have said the first thing that came to his mind.

“That you love me?” he said as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Hermione face turned to one of shock before glaring at Ron.

“Ronald Weasley, if you would have paid attention you would have gotten it through your thick skull that I love Harry,” Hermione said, her hands on her hips. She had been only curious about Ron's fascination with her. She never gave a second thought to one of his earlier statements. “I've loved him since our first year. I've only asked one thing from him, and that is to be completely honest with me. And he has done that.” Harry stepped forward, wrapping his arms possessively around her.

“Hermione has done something that I don't think anyone in your family ever could Ron,” Harry said. “She has chased away nightmares that have plagued me since I was one. You have no idea how horrible of a childhood I live in, and for the first time, I'm experiencing something normal for a child: love. My first love is Hermione Granger. We had this speech before, Ron. Don't you remember?” Ron nodded, but did not meet their gaze. “Then why the bloody hell were you putting moves on my woman?” He spoke with a calm fury, and it quickly was followed by Hermione's face snapped around to look at him.

Something in his voice or in his heart made the situation final. She was his, and he was hers. There was no fighting, but that was not what was bothering her. What was bothering her was that a sense of heat flushed through her body, one she wanted to come again and again. She began to blush as she thought about how he could finalize that statement.

“I thought it was all an act,” Ron stammered out. “I thought it was all meant to get that demon out of me.”

“Ron when have you know me, to `act' an emotion?” Harry asked, angered slightly at Ron's thickhead. “My emotions are on my sleeve for the world to see.”

“I didn't think-” Harry cut him off.

“That's right, you didn't think,” Harry said. “You don't think that I knew what may actions do? I know that Voldemort is after me, and I'm doing my damnest to keep you two safe as I can. I've tried, Ron to keep you safe, you two were the ones demanding that you go with me.” Hermione turned back around in his arms, and wiped away the tears that fell from the bandages. He moved so his gaze would be upon Hermione at the moment. “I know we're supposed to be honest, but Mione, you don't know half of the demons that plague me, and Ron,” he looked up at their best friend, “you don't know a fraction of that. I've finally opened myself up to someone, someone who's opened equally to me. And you here trying to take that one open link I have away from me, just because you believe that you `like' her, maybe `love' her. Well, dammit, I like her, and dammit I love her. She is my world, Ron.”

Ron nodded but did not say anything. Hermione watched him carefully as he rose from his seat and walked over to them.

“I'm sorry, Herms,” Ron said, not making eye contact. “I guess I've been jealous of what you've had with Harry. He's always on your mind,” she blushed at this, “and those times we fought, your attention was solely on me. I began to feel left out, and now I feel that the Trio is gone.” Harry was about to say something, but Hermione said it first.

“Ron, the trio is gone, it was gone the minute we stepped into the Department of Mysteries,” she said with a smile from within Harry's arms. “Ginny, Neville and Luna are now apart of this too. We're all in this, as a team. It just happens that two of your teammates happen to be dating at the moment.”

“But that makes all of the difference,” Ron said, still not meeting their gaze. “Everything between us has changed.”

“Has it Ron?” Hermione asked. Ron looked up at them for a moment before walking forward, trying to leave.

“Ron?” Hermione asked. Harry stood behind her, not knowing really what was happening.

“Harry, thank you for saving me,” Ron said as he stood in the doorway. Hermione watched him walk out of the door, but hopefully not out of their lives.

Document created with wvWare/wvWare version 1.0.0

-->

A/N: I'm slightly upset at the moment. My reviews for the chapters have been going down. I love getting input from all of you, so I really don't know what to do. Also, this story will be a crossover. Some of you might have guessed it, but it won't be until the next book (I'm attempting three, six year, seventh year summer, and seventh year). Now I'm revealing what type of crossover it is, but I've placed some subtle and not so sublte hints with the chapters up to date. This chapter there are a great deal of hints, so that's all I've got to say about that.

Also, if there are any or all suggestions are appreciated.

Thank you and read and review.

Chapter Nine:

Beginning to Understand

“Fiction is obliged to stick to possibilities. Truth isn't” Mark Twain

Hermione lead Harry back to their room in silence. She did not know what to say to him, or know how to respond to a question of his. Harry must have felt the same way; once they were in their room Harry went to their dresser and grabbed a change of cloths for the night. He lay on the bed, facing the ceiling as he waited for Hermione to change as well. She lay down on his chest and he wrapped his arm around her, bring her close. They lay in silence for a long time, neither moving nor falling asleep. Harry broke the silence.

“Mione, do you want to know my demons?” Harry asked. She looked up at his face. It had not moved its gaze from the ceiling. She wished she could see his eyes. Those eyes hid nothing from her.

“Yes please,” Hermione whispered into his chest. She was afraid of what he was going to say. She knew his fears about Voldemort, and not being loved, what else was there?

“I told you that I couldn't go back to the Dursleys, remember?” Harry said. He spoke in a monotone voice, not letting his emotion betray him until it was too late. He needed to get this out. His Mione had promised to take care of him, and he knew she kept her promises.

Hermione nodded into his chest. A lump of fear began to grow inside of her. She knew of one thing more that if it happened to him, it would be difficult for him to talk about. One thing, the one thing she did not want to happen to him.

“The Dursleys, they, sometimes would hit me if I did something magical or screwed up,” Harry said. “I don't remember much of my childhood. Only glimpses.” Hermione felt the tears rolling down his cheeks as she reached up to stroke his cheek. She knew her tears were falling as well. “The first time I remember would have been after I was given a hair cut. My aunt cut my hair, and the next day it had grown back….” There was a hitch in his voice as he prepared himself to say what came next. “My uncle took a hair brush and hit me with it several times. He then took me onto his knee and spanked me with it. I was thrown into my cupboard for a week for that……”

“Oh Harry,” Hermione said, wrapping her arms around his neck. She positioned herself so she was above him and positioned him so he was lying on her chest. She wanted him to hear her heartbeat, to know that everything there was real, and everything in that beat was for him.

“There are other times that I remember,” Harry said, tears falling freely now. “I remember being beaten with a belt, and then a wrench. There are times when Dudley would use me a punching bag or something like that. I had `accidents' frequently in the home, but no one came to check them out, Mione. I thought if it happened so frequently, that someone, anyone would want to know why. They just told the people at the hospital that I was clumsy, because I kept breaking my glasses and they could not afford a new pair. I don't understand Mione, was I that hated that no one cared if I got hurt?” Hermione kissed his head and brought him closer.

“I care, I've always cared,” Hermione whispered to him. “The Weasleys's care for you too Harry. You remember how Mrs. Weasley was after the third task?” He nodded, but did not say anything. “Hagrid cares for you, greatly I might add. Dumbledore, in his odd way, cares for you as well. You can see it in everything they've done.” He nodded once more. “Harry, I love you, and you are my world.”

“No Mione, this is your world, and I'm just living in it,” Harry whispered, leaning out of her embrace slightly. “I'll do anything for you. I'm not going to kill Voldemort for Dumbledore or the Wizarding World, I'm going to go after him so we, you and I, can live together quietly on some remote island away from everyone who tries to get a piece of Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived.” He pulled her closer once more.

“I can't go back there Mione, I can't,” he whispered into her chest. She knew of the compromising position she was in, but also knew Harry would no take advantage of her.

“You won't, I promise you, you won't,” Hermione said. She wrapped her arms around her, kissing his forehead. She knew now why he looked the way he did when he came to Hogwarts: skinny and malnourished. But he was with her now, and all that pain, was going to end. She would not let him return to the Dursleys alone, never again.

* * * * *

Hermione wore first, and looked at Harry's sleeping form. She could see the child he hid inside himself at times. Playing with his hair, she noticed he had not moved out of her arms since she wrapped them around her. Harry however did wrap his arms around her. She loved it that Harry had finally admitted that he could not do everything by himself. He may not have said it in those words, but he did. What surprised her though was his confession that he needed her the most, out of everyone else in the world. She knew he relied on her, but it came as a surprised that she was his source of strength.

Harry began to stir in her arms. She looked down at him again, kissing his forehead once as he stretched in her arms. He mumbled a small thank you as he tried to push back.

“Harry, you can't push me away,” Hermione said, pulling him closer.

“Mione, I need to use the facilities,” Harry said, choking back his laughter. He knew what she was saying was true; he just had to go at the moment. He also knew she blushed as she loosened her grip. “Thank you,” he moved up and kissed her lightly on the cheek. “Now, just point me in the direction of the bathroom and I'll be fine.” He heard her giggle as she sat up, helping him move to the side of the room.

“Yes Potter,” Hermione said as she picked up his hand and made him stand up. “It's straight ahead.” She giggled once again as he stood up, and walked slowly to the door.

It wasn't that he did not trust her; it was that he did not put it past her to point him in the direction of the main door. Harry found the door knob and turned it. Walking into it, he put his hand to the left, on top of the tile counter. Sighing with relief, Harry closed the door behind him and got to business.

Hermione sighed as Harry entered their bathroom. She wanted to see his eyes again, but knew that if they took off that bandage before lunch, he may not see again. She just wanted those emerald orbs to give her the comforting looks he could without saying a word. She grabbed the medical book she had been reading before and started to read it again. She felt it was necessary for Harry to have someone there that could take care of him, in everyway possible. She wanted him to be the husband of her children and be the father he never could have had to them.

A blush rose across her face as Harry walked out of the bedroom and back to their bed. He lay back down, facing the ceiling as Hermione began to read. He seemed in deep thought as he lay there. Although Hermione wanted to know what he was thinking about, she was not going to push him unless it was absolute necessary. This was not one of those times.

Harry went over the conversation he had with Guile at dinner. The man seemed to have insight into something that was beyond most people. This theory of multiverse and two souls connected was beyond him. He thought about telling Hermione about it, but he needed to understand his own theories first. He had to know if he and Hermione were meant to be soul mates.

“Harry?” Hermione asked looking up at him. She could not explain it, but she felt something stir inside her, an emotion of worthlessness and full of insecurities. It did not come from her thoughts, though.

“What Mione?” He did not move his gaze from the ceiling.

“What's wrong?”

“Am I really worth it?” Hermione looked over him in shock. Before she could say anything, he spoke again. “Why are you still here, if I'm to die at the hands of a madman anyway?”

“You're not going to die,” Hermione said forcefully, wrapping him in a hug once more. “You're going to live a long happy life with me. I'm sure of it.” She turned his head to look at her and placed as chastised kiss on his lips. “We're meant to meet, Harry, and we're meant to get together.” She kissed him once more letting the passion she felt flow into him. She felt him melt underneath the kiss, and the tears falling down his face once more. Once the kiss was over, he embraced her tightly and would not let her go. “I'm here, Harry, I'm here.”

“Don't leave me, just don't leave me,” Harry repeated over and over again. He needed a constant in his life, one that would not buckle under pressure. His Hermione was that constant.

“I'm sitting by you today, whether you like it or not,” Hermione said into his ear. “You're also not leaving my sight until I feel like you're ready to.”

“What about training?” Harry asked, as she tightened the embrace.

“It will have to wait or we can work something out,” Hermione said, with a smile. She would take care of everything and let everyone else who needed him do what they could. “Harry, I have to owl someone, do you mind?” He shook his head as he loosened his embrace. Hermione slide out of the bed, and quickly began to write a letter to one man she knew Harry would love to see again.

After sending the letter, Hermione climbed back into bed, and relaxed with Harry some more. She began to whisper comforting words to him, trying to coax him back into a sleep. When she first had gotten out of the bed, it was not even dawn yet, now it was mid-morning. She knew they had missed breakfast, and it would be only a few more long hours before he could see again. She hoped her plan would work. She had been told Professor Lupin would be returning in the afternoon and she hoped her guest could be here by then. After the night's and morning's talks she had with Harry, he needed more than her. She knew he could not rely on only her for the remainder of his life; she would not be his crutch. But now that his childhood demons are surfacing, she will help fight them with him, she would be his hero. But he was always hers.

“Harry? Hermione?” Dumbledore's voice called. Hermione looked over at Harry, sleeping on his side, his hand wrapped in hers.

“One moment,” Hermione said, grabbing a robe from the hook on her bedside, and attempted to remove Harry's hand. He whimpered slightly. “Oh hush up, I'll be right back.” She whispered forcefully. His grip loosened, but there was a slight crease in his brow. She kissed his forehead softly before getting out of the bed. Slipping on the robe, she walked to the open and opened it. “Good morning sir.”

“Good morning, Hermione,” Dumbledore said with a sad smile. “I heard about your conversation with Mister Weasley. How is he?” He motioned toward Harry's sleeping form.

“Physical he's fine, sir, but he can't go back to them” Hermione said, glancing at Harry. She turned around and began to plead with the professor. “He can't. They beat him, abuse him. He needs someone, now more than ever, who will constantly be there for him. He can't go back there, sir.” Dumbledore nodded, his face not showing the emotion, but his eyes showed the shook.

“Then my news will not be taken well,” Dumbledore said with a sigh. “He needs to return to place of his mother's blood at the day of his birth in order to strengthen the protection enough for the remainder of the year.” He held a sad gaze upon Hermione as she took this in. She shook her head in disbelief.

“Well, we'll just have to find another way to protect him,” Hermione stated. “He is not going back there. Never again.”

“I'm afraid that we have no choice, his birthday is within a few days and he needs to spend the majority of the day in the presence of that house,” Dumbledore said.

“I'll go with him then,” Hermione said, looking back at Harry once more. “He won't be alone there anymore, and if I have to use magic to stop them from hurting, I'll risk expulsion.”

“That may be a plausible idea,” Dumbledore said after a few moments of thinking. “If my grandson returns in time, he will join you.” Hermione gave him a questioning look. “I have no doubts in your skills, Hermione, but it would seem more intimidating to say that ex-convict would be looking out for you two.” A smile grew on his face. “He has always spoken about meeting the caretakers of a child brought up like that.”

“Why do you say that?” Hermione asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

“Well, my grandson is what you could say, a champion among the orphans, especially within United States,” Dumbledore said with a smile. “He donates a great deal of money every year, and he also prosecuted the owners of one orphanage for their care of the children.”

“Dad saved me,” Grace said, coming out from behind Dumbledore. She was dressed in a set of pajamas and was holding a teddy bear to her chest. Hermione figured it was similar to the Pooh Bear stuffed animal. She had one of those back in her room at her house. “He made sure those evil people would stop touching us and beating us. He promised me that as long as I have faith in him, he could do anything. He also promised to always come home.” Dumbledore leaned down and with strength beyond his age, picked up the young girl.

“How are you sleepyhead?” Dumbledore asked.

“Fine,” she said. She looked over at Hermione for a moment. “Can we play the games today?”

“That's what I said?” Hermione said with a smile. “Would you be able to conjure them?” She asked Dumbledore after a moment of thinking. She knew she did not have them, and it would disappoint her if they did not have them.

“I believe I could handle that,” Dumbledore said with a smile. “Now, I receive a letter from Hagrid and your Grandmother today.” Hermione flushed slightly; she had almost forgotten that McGonagall was her grandmother. “Both will be joining us for dinner. I suspect that our training will officially begin tomorrow, if it suits you.” Hermione flushed once more. Dumbledore seemed to understand her concern for Harry. “How is he?” He asked again.

“His demons run deep, sir, and I don't know what he will do when you tell he has to return,” Hermione said, looking back at Harry once more. “Although he won't admit it sure, I think it might be a good idea to return and face them, and finally beat the demons, and his fear of them.”

“Well, I believe that some fears run deeper than expected,” Dumbledore said, looking at Harry as well. Hermione turned and gave him a questioning look. “Fears can not always be beaten alone, and although a person may think of themselves as a crutch not needed, it is best not to remove the crutch until the foot is healed. Lunch may be served in your room if you like, but we will be awaiting you in the library in the afternoon. I believe Harry would enjoy it as well.”

“Thank you sir,” Hermione said as the headmaster walked away. It would be good to talk with her grandmother. She always knew she had a special bond with Professor McGonagall that none of the students had. Now, she hoped that bond would grow. She walked back over to the bed, and sat up once more. She pulled Harry's head into her lap and picked up her book.

“What are you doing?” Hermione nearly jumped at the sound of Harry's voice.

“Harry, you scared me,” Hermione said, putting a hand to her heart. “When did you wake up?”

“Few minutes ago,” Harry said, turning so the back of his head was resting in her lap. “Where are we going?' Hermione sighed, knowing he would be asking this, but still dreading the question.

“We have to return to the Dursley's,” Hermione said. Harry bolted upright and turned to look at her.

“What?” Harry said, visibly shaking. He had left without so much as a note, like they would notice, but to go back unannounced, he knew he'd be hurt for sure. “I can't go back there Mione, you promised me I wouldn't have to…” his voice trailed off as the tears began to flow once again.

“I know, Harry, I know,” Hermione said, wrapping him in a hug. “I know I promised, but you need this, you need to fight your demons, Harry. You can't spend your whole life afraid of them.

“I've already spent a great deal of it,” he mumbled. He knew he was receiving a glare from her, but he did not really care at the moment. They both knew it was true.

“And you will spend no more there if I can help it,” Hermione said to him. He had wrapped his arms around her now, and she took his head in her hands. “But you need ever extra edge you can get over Voldemort, and this is one edge that I can not help you with Harry. It is also the only edge that has proven steady and useful. But I will go with you, Harry.”

“Thank you Mione,” he said, lying back down. “Could we possible get some breakfast or lunch?” Hermione giggled as she began to play with his hair.

“Sure, after that, we'll look for Guile to have him remove the bandages so you can look at my beautiful face again,” Hermione said. She said this jokingly, but Harry just smiled at her.

“And your other wonderful assets,” Harry remarked, getting a playful tap on his head. “Ow, what was that for?” he asked as he began to rub it. Hermione pushed his hands away and began to play with his hair again.

“For being so cute,” Hermione said, trying to hold back a blush. “Dobby can bring something to us.”

“Are you sure that's okay?” Harry joked. “I mean, do you know if he is getting paid?”

“He's getting paid Harry,” Hermione said playing with his hair. “And doing a fine job as well. I might have to knit him something. Wanna join me?” She hoped he would. It hurt her slightly last year that he did not take interest in the new hobby of hers; she just found it relaxing and maybe he would too. He needed to relax.

“Why not?” Harry said with a laugh. He sat up and she bounded to her trunk and pulled out a ball of yarn and her knitting supplies. She hurried back to his side and nearly jumped onto of the bed. The bed rocked slightly as she landed.

“This is going to be fun,” Hermione said, opening the book she had on knitting. She sat cross-legged from Harry, reading him aloud everything she knew he would need to know.

“How am I going to do this?” Harry asked as she handed him two needles and an end of the yarn. Hermione sat looking at him for a moment, thinking about their current problem.

“I got it,” she said, crawling across the bed. “Move your hands,” she said as she positioned herself in his lap. “Now, I'm going to teach your fingers how to do the simplest knitting, alright?” She asked, shifting so she was comfortable in his lap. She looked over her left shoulder as she did not get a conformation, only to bump noses with him. She began to blush and turned away, concentrating on the work at hand.

Harry stifled a laugh. He knew she was embarrassed; that was part of the beauty of her. This simple closeness was still new to both of them, but he enjoyed knowing someone loved him enough to be this close, and he believed he would never get embarrassed because of it.

Hermione placed her hands over Harry's and began to guide his to creating the simple patterns. His bigger hands looked awkward doing this, but he never complained, not when he was halfway done and had messed up. Not when he was almost done and messed it up again. And not even when she told him it had not turned out how it was supposed to be. He remained calm through out the entire process and did not even protest when she wanted to help him even more. Not that he would complain, she figured he enjoyed her sitting in his lap. She enjoyed being this close to him.

Harry let his hands works as his other sense took in Hermione. Although he could not see, he could still smell the combination of vanilla and lavender from her hair. Her skin was a soft touch to his calloused hands. He placed his head on her shoulder to keep her close. He would not have minded knitting for the remainder of the day had his stomach not spoken.

“Mione, can we get some lunch?” Harry asked, feeling a rumbling in his stomach. Hermione giggled as she took her hands off of his.

“You continue, and I'll get us some lunch,” Hermione said, leaving his arms. She giggled again at the face he made. “You're not getting lunch until I see some improvement.” She was trying to be stern with him, but knew it was not going to work.

Harry still had the yarn in his hands. He had done this for Hermione; he might as well finish it. Moving so he was leaning against the board, he began to attempt what Hermione had attempted to teach him. He really did not know what to do, just let his fingers work with the yarn. Although he would not admit it to her or anyone else, his body began to relax slightly. Maybe it was because of the activity, or maybe because as he did this, he felt as if Hermione was sitting in his lap again, guiding his fingers along. He voted for the latter.

Hermione watched Harry from the doorway, waiting for Dobby. She had already yelled for him, but did it in the hallway; she did not want to interrupt Harry while he did this. He sat, looking ahead as he worked, but it was his hands that interested her the most. She watched as his hands began to go through all of the motions she had showed him; he looked like he was doing his best not to mess up, but when he did mess up, she watched as he fixed himself and continued on like nothing happened.

“Lunch for Harry Potter and Harry's misses,” Dobby said, handing her a tray filled with two sandwiches, a pitcher of pumpkin juice, and two glasses as well as assorted fruits and such. “Dobby's also talked to Master Guile. Guile says he'd be up soon.”

“Thank you Dobby,” Hermione said, trying to hold back a blush. “Tell Guile we would like to speak to him at one or so.” Dobby bowed and disappeared with a pop. Hermione turned around with the tray in hand and walked into the room.

“That lunch love?” Harry asked, putting down the knitting. He had gotten as far as Hermione had shown him, so he could not finish it.

“Yes,” Hermione said, sitting on the bed. “I'm going to hand you your plate, and tell me when you want to drink.” He held his hand out waiting for the plate, but he heard a gasp from Hermione. “You make this?” Hermione asked. She picked up the small square of knitting Harry had finished. “I didn't do this good my first time.”

“Well, I just had a good teacher,” Harry said, causing her to blush.” Lunch please.” He held out his hand once more.

“Boys,” she sighed, handing him his plate. He took it, smiling at her for a moment or two.

“You're going to eat right?” Harry placed his plate in his lap and waited for a reply. He knew unless he forced her to, she would not eat. “Right?”

“Right Harry,” Hermione said, picking up a plate. She really wanted to read a little more of the healing book before tomorrow, but Harry would not let her. As she began to eat, she explained what they were going to do for the day. “After Guile removed the bandages, we're going to play a Muggle game with Dumbledore and Grace. Then I've arranged for you to talk with someone, don't worry, he's not a therapist. Just someone that you'd probably want to talk to. After that, we'll see where the day takes us.” She smiled even though he could not see her.

“Fine by me,” Harry agreed. “As long as I don't have to do my homework.” He laughed as a pillow hit his head. “Hey.”

“You will have to do some homework,” Hermione said. “They most likely going to be giving us nightly assignment for everything that we can't cover in the training.” Harry groaned at this. He really did not want to do homework. Hermione giggled at his reaction; she did not know if they were of if they were not going to give them assignments, but it was funny to edge him on like that. “Don't worry Harry, I'll help you. Now are you finished so we can go find Guile?” Harry handed her the plate back and held his hand out. She took the plate and gave him a glass of pumpkin juice. He quickly drank it, and crawled over to the edge of the bed.

“Coming?” Harry asked as he slid off and stood. “I want to stare at you for a while before we play a game or two.” Hermione could not help but blush at his statement. She turned to pick up the tray, but with a audible pop, it was gone.

“Alright,” Hermione said as she jumped off the bed and went to Harry's side. He picked up her hand in his own and kissed it gently.

“Thank you,” he whispered. She stood in shock.

“For what?”

“For being you,” Harry said. “Now let's find Guile.” He wrapped his arm around her waist and the two of them began to walk out of the room.

Hermione felt a calm surround her body as they walked. She did not need Harry to worry about her; she was not going to tell him her fears. She could not get over the fact that her parents and sister may be dead at the moment, and she did not get to tell them that she loved them. The last conversation she had with her parents was about dating, and they had not ended on good terms. She then yelled at her little sister for something menial, causing her to cry. The last memories of her parents were not happy ones, and that made the pain even worse.

Hermione felt Harry stop and found herself being enveloped in his embrace. “Let it out angel, let it out,” his voice whispered. “I'm here for you. I'm here for you.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and held onto him tightly. No tears would fall; she was too scared and felt guilty at the moment to cry. “Serge will get them back, Mione. If not him, then me. I already told you, that this war ends for you. Not Dumbledore, not the wizards of the world. For you. I will get you the moon on a leash,” Harry said, pulling back slightly, and put one hand behind his back. “Or a beautiful flowerfor a beautiful lady.” He pulled his hand back into view. A forget-me-not freshly bloomed was in his hand. She let out a gasp as he pushed back some of her hair and placed it behind her ear.

“How did you do that?” Hermione finally managed.

“Sssh, magic,” Harry whispered, giving her a gentle kiss. “I meant what I said. This war is fought so we can have children some day, Mione.” Hermione began to blush as he loosened his arms, but kept on around her waist. “Now, come on, I want to see you with that flower in your hair.” Hermione began to blush again as they walked down the stairs.

Hermione found herself sneaking glimpses of Harry, despite the fact that he could not see her. She still wasn't used to someone treating her so special. She knew she was not the most beautiful person in Hogwarts, but when Harry was around, that never matter. He made her the princess from her dreams. All she needed now was the pendant from her dreams and her wishes would be answered.

They found Guile in the library, seating in a chair by the coffee table, which was filled with books. He said he was searching for something, but did not know what he was looking for. Hermione noticed most of the books had to do with history of the world and particularly the history of magic.

“So you want to remove the bandages?” Guile asked, putting the papers he was writing on into the book. Hermione nodded. “Take a seat.” He motioned toward the chair across from him. Hermione lead Harry there. “Now I'm going to unwrap the bandages slowly. Although everything should be fixed, there is no point in taking a chance. Hermione will be here for you. In fact…” His voice trailed off as he began to push some books around and off the table, allowing Hermione to sit down on it. “She's going to be the first thing you see alright. Now, I'm beginning.”

Harry nodded and heard some shuffling. He felt the bandages being unwound from around his head. The light began to grow brighter and brighter. His heart jumped at the thought of seeing Hermione again. Seeing his angel again. A smile grew on his face as the layers became less and less and less.

“Last one,” Guile said. “It's going to be really bright, so don't think there is anything wrong.” Harry nodded as the final wrapping was removed. He brought his hand up quickly to block some of the light and he squinted his eyes. Slowly, his eyes opened and stared ahead.

“My God,” Harry whispered as he put his hand down. “I've died and gone to heaven.” Hermione, he knew it was her even without his glasses, had an ethereal glow around her; it gave her the most beautiful look in the world. “Mione.”

“Harry,” Hermione said, letting the tears fall. “They're back, they're back.” She said into the crock of his neck as her arms surrounded him.

“What's back?” Harry asked, confused at her statement.

“Your emeralds, your wonderful emeralds,” Hermione said holding onto even tighter. “I thought I'd never see them again.”

“Well, I would have to tell you that they're here to stay,” Harry said with a smile. “I just need a new pair of glasses.”

“Here you go,” Guile said. Hermione took the pair from his outreached hand and put them on Harry.

“Much better,” Hermione said, kissing his cheek. “Now your charm's complete.”

“My charm, you like my glasses?” Harry asked, slightly awed. Hermione began to blush as she nodded.

“They give you a sense of distinguished knowledge,” Hermione said suppressing giggles. “That and they bring a focus to your eyes.” She said that part with a straight face and stared directly into his eyes. “I love you Harry, every little thing about you. From your messy hair to your wonderful eyes.”

“You certainly like my eyes don't you?” Harry said causing Hermione to blush. He chuckled lightly as he pulled her into his lap. “Since we are naming things we like about the other, then I have to say I love your eyes. They remind me of honey or chocolate depending on your mood. But they always remain sweet and caring, and hopeful. I love your hair; the ringlets it has turned into are amazing; it's so soft and silky. I love it and I love you.” He gave her a small kiss, not a deep one, but one he knew that would get his message across. “Let's go play a few games, shall we?” Harry said with a smile that could get him anything from her if he only asked.

“Sure,” Hermione said, blushing from his smile. How could he do that? One warm look from his eyes and that smile was going to get her in trouble one of these days. He motioned for Hermione stand; she got of his lap and he hopped out of the chair, a smile plastered on his face.

“Dumbledore said you would be playing in the dinning room,” Guile said, moving back to his seat and picking up the book he had been reading before they came in. “Now if you would both leave, there is so much that I must look up and I'm afraid that I will not be prepared as I should be.” He sighed and looked up at them. “Get to getting.” He said, shooing them out of the room. Harry turned around, glancing at the man with purple hair for a moment, thinking that he was floating above the chair with his legs crossed. Blinking, he found Guile staring at him. Not knowing what to think, Harry walked out of the room and headed toward his waiting angel.

* * * * *

Harry could not remember when he had a better time doing something Muggle. He had spent the better part of a hour playing Monopoly with the Headmaster, Grace, and Hermione. Hermione was the only one who knew how to play, and she was the banker. He chose to be the miniature car, Dumbledore the thimble, and Grace chose the little dog. Hermione was the top hat. And although he had a rough start, not rolling well, he was rolling in it now. He had managed to get both Boardwalk and Park Place on his first time around, then much to his amusement Hermione landed on both her next time around. Then he managed to land on all open areas, keeping his money, and getting both utilities. An hour later of bartering and trading, Harry had managed to surmount a small fortune, while taking parts of Hermione's and Dumbledore's. He had built up hotels on both Boardwalk and Park Place, only to have Hermione land on Boardwalk.

“Fine, take it all,” Hermione said with a sigh of defeat as she handed him her remaining money and mortgaged places. She glared at Harry, who just laughed. As much as she did not like him at the moment for his uncanny luck, she could not help but feel a sense of pride build up inside because she helped get him laughing like a kid again. She looked over at Dumbledore who gave her a knowing smile. He too had ended giving all of his money to Grace. Now they were the only one's left.

“It does the body well to laugh,” Dumbledore said to Hermione. Grace and Harry exchanged laughter between them as easily as they exchanged the paper money. Hermione began to smile again; it was nice to see Harry so relaxed and happy. Dumbledore seemed just as happy that Grace was like that. “Grace has not experienced it as long as Harry has so it has been easier for her to become happy again. Harry's seen a lot more and a lot worse of human nature. I believe my grandson was able to get Grace out before any of that happened.”

“I win,” Grace said, jumping up and down. Harry let out a slight groan, but held a smile on his face. Hermione looked over at Harry, and saw him mouth a `thank you,' once again causing her to blush.

“Well, it seems our guests are here,” Dumbledore said, standing up from the chair he was in. Almost on queue, the large oak doors opened and Hagrid came walking into the room. Behind him came McGonagall.

“Hagrid,” Harry said, jumping out of his seat. “It's good to see you again.”

“Its good ter see yeh,” Hagrid said, wrapping the young man in a bear hug. “Yeh look happier sense I saw yeh last.”

“I am,” Harry said, pulling out of the hug. “Hagrid, I would like to introduce you to my girlfriend Hermione Granger.” Hermione blushed and took Harry's outstretched hand. Hagrid took them both into a strong hug.

“I knew it, I knew it,” Hagrid said. “Just like yer mum and dad Harry. Yeh make a wonderful couple.” Hermione began to blush again as Hagrid let her go. “Now, let me talk ter Dumbledore”

“That's alright Hagrid, please, tell us what you've learned,” Dumbledore said walking over to them with McGonagall.

“Yes, sir,” Hagrid said. “The forests have grown restless, sir. I don't understand, but the animals are growin' angry, and agitated. They've attacked Gawp once or twice, and he's still learnin' ter speak and told me that there is a trouble a brewin'.”

“Thank you Hagrid,” Dumbledore said with a smile. “You're invited to say for dinner.” Both Hagrid and Harry beamed. “Harry, you and Hagrid may wish to go talk in the library or some place else. There is something that we must discuss with Hermione.” Harry looked over at Hermione, then to Dumbledore. “You will be told as well, but we have to tell Hermione first, and she can help you understand.” Harry nodded and kissed Hermione's forehead.

“You better, sir, I don't want you to keep anything from me this year,” Harry said gravely. Dumbledore simply nodded as Hagrid and Harry left to discuss heaven knows what.

“I have a question,” Hermione said as Harry left. She felt uncomfortable in the room with two of the greatest wizards and witches in the world. She just wanted her Harry back. “What do I call you Professor McGonagall? I mean, you're my mother's mothers, making you my grandmother and I never had one of those before, so I really don't know what is appropriate and I'm slightly frightened that I might upset you if I call you something that you don't like.” She said that all in one breath and had to stop herself before she rambled on.

“I didn't know how you would take it,” McGonagall said, looking at the young woman. Hermione stared at her for a moment, before rushing to her side and surrounding her in a hug. “Oh my.”

“Grandmamma,” Hermione said softly, hugging her tightly. She had grandparents now, her family was complete. She smiled at McGonagall, who returned it as Hermione let her go.

“Please, take a seat,” Dumbledore motioned toward the seats they had just been in. “Grace, do you mind if we talk in private?” The little girl shook her head.

“Can I talk to the giant?” Grace said eagerness in her voice. Dumbledore chuckled lightly and nodded. Grace raced out of the room, and head in the direction of Harry and Hagrid.

“There is something that you need to know, Hermione,” Dumbledore said as they sat down. “It is about our family.”

“What happen to my parents?” Hermione asked the strain in her voice as she fought her tears. Dumbledore and McGonagall shared looks before he continued.

“We are still unsure of their current state, Hermione. Serge is doing his best, but we've lost contact with him,” Dumbledore said.

“We're hoping that he will return in a few days at the most,” McGonagall added. Hermione nodded and held back her tears. “But what we have to tell you does concern your parents as well as you.”

“What?” Hermione asked, confused.

“Ever since I defeated Grindelwald, parties of evil forces have made it apparent that my family will not be safe,” Dumbledore said. “I did my best to protect them, but my wife was killed shortly after the downfall of Grindelwald. She was spending some time relaxing in the Pacific, when she was attacked. For all the power I had, Hermione, you have no idea how much I would give up just to have my wife back.” Hermione saw the twinkle in his eyes, but she could tell they were because of the tears in his eyes. McGonagall wrapped an arm around Dumbledore. He continued on though, unfazed. “She's survived through our two children. One is your grandmother, Hermione; the other is Serge's mother, Mary Kate Thornton. She married and had two children, one of which is Serge; the other was named Sean Jr. after his father. They moved to America out of this very home to another one that has been in my family for many years.

“I married a Muggle police officer, and when I was pregnant with my first child, he was ambushed by a group of dark forces,” McGonagall said. Tears were rolling down her face as she spoke. “Although no one knew I was Albus's daughter, my husband was good friends with my father, and therefore a target to get at him. It was more successful than any of them thought though. I promised myself that I would not let my child grow up with this around her, and sent her to English orphanage as much as it pained me. I half expected the child to become a witch, but she never did. I kept track of her and wasn't surprised to see that she had a child, you, and that child became a witch.”

“Why are you telling me all of this?” Hermione asked, still confused and still attempting to keep tears at bay.

“Our family is in constant danger because of who my father is, who your great-grandfather is,” McGonagall said.

“In simpler terms, someone knows that you're my great-granddaughter and that someone told Voldemort,” Dumbledore said, losing his smile. “We do not know of anyone that would do that, or that was there when we told you, or in fact discussed it before the memorial service. But because of this, you are open to a great deal more danger than you thought. ”

“Why were my parents targeted though?” Hermione asked, trying to remain calm. She could tell all of this to Harry later, and break down in his comforting arms, and let him explode at Dumbledore, but right now she needed to remain calm.

“Because of your friendship with Harry, dear,” McGonagall said. “The Weasleys are now being constantly watched. Mrs. Weasley is not happy about this, but agrees it is necessary. Now being here in itself has its own protections for you. Harry on the other hand, we're taking a chance.”

“What do you mean?” Hermione realized she was asking a lot of questions but really did not care.

“He has absolutely no protection here,” McGonagall said. “He would be better off at the-” Hermione stood up abruptly surprising them all.

“If you say Dursley's I'm walking out of this room and nevercoming back,” Hermione said icily. “He's not going back there unless I can help it. And when he does return, I'm going with him. I'll hex them to hell if they so much as threaten him again. Those creatures, those monsters don't deserve the air they breathe for hurting him.” She spoke quietly, but her icy tone came across. “I love him, and I will not see him hurt again, because of some protection that is supposed to be helping him. Its not helping him, its hurting him.” She screamed the last part and collapsed in tears on the seat. “This is his final year there, whether you say so or not. I'm not letting him stay there any more. He'll come live with me or we'll work out something, but he is not going back there.”

“Hermione, I understand that you care for him but he needs to return there,” McGonagall said, before she could continue though Dumbledore spoke.

“Maybe you're right, he may not have to return there next year,” Dumbledore said, looking like he was getting lost in thought. “I'll have to look it up, but I believe it won't be a problem. He also will not have to return until his birthday, and even then it will be only for a day.” Hermione nodded, calming herself down. “After that he is your to do with what you wish.” She began to blush at his comment. “Well, I assume you will wish to discuss this with Harry?” Hermione nodded, blushing even more. “Then by all means,” Dumbledore said with a smile. “And send Professor Snape in please, he should be waiting right outside. Once you talk with Harry, I wish to speak with both of you again.” Hermione nodded once more and stood up from her chair. She left without making a sound and did indeed find Snape outside, pacing.

“About time,” Snape said, pushing past Hermione. He slammed the door, but it opened up again. The curiosity getting the better of her, Hermione moved to listen in the on the conversation.

“He's taken them,” Snape said, out of breath. “The bloody Death Eaters are guarding that place like it's a fortress and he just waltzes in and takes them. We had a plan set up and they were safe.”

“Plans change Severus,” Dumbledore said calmly. “But I can guarantee that they are still safe.” Hermione nearly jumped for joy and ran to find Harry to tell him the good news.

Harry and Hagrid were discussing the animals and creatures in Hagrid's with Grace, who seemed to be in awe of it all. Hermione came bounding over and landed in Harry's lap. “They're safe, they're safe.” She squealed, wrapping him in a tight hug.

“Who?” Harry said, surprised as the sudden mass of brown hair in his field of vision

“My family, they're safe,” Hermione said, hugging him tightly. “You're the one who told Dumbledore to send someone. I can't thank you enough.”

“Hermione, the only reason I didn't go myself was because I figured you would get mad at me if I did,” Harry said honestly.

“You'd have gone?” Hermione asked, surprised at his response.

“Hermione I told you, I'd do anything for you, save your parents, save the world,” Harry said, putting his hand behind his back and pulling it out to show a bundle of forget-me-nots, “or give you a bouquet of flowers.”

“How did you….” Her voice trailed off as he handed her the flowers.

“Just something I was told during lunch yesterday,” Harry said with a smile. “A simple conjuring spell.”

“But conjuring seventh year,” Hermione said, surprised at him. “And you're doing it wandless.”

“I know,” Harry said, kissing her lightly on the lips. “Now, I share my secrets if you share yours.” Hagrid's laugh filled the room.

“So much like yer parents, Harry,” Hagrid said with a smile and tear in his eye. Harry and Hermione both looked at the gentle giant, attempting to hide their blushes. “yer father used ter tell yer mum that he give her a secret for every secret she told him. She must've managed ter get everythin' out of him. But as soon as they started datin' nothin' was hidden from each other. Much like yeh two.” Hagrid laughed again, wiping his eye with a tablecloth. “Well, why not see what the rest of the world is up to?” Hagrid said, getting out of his seat. Grace nodded, hopping out of her seat and nearly running to keep up with Hagrid.

Before Harry could start however, Guile, whose back had been to them, jumped up from his seat. “I found it. It all makes sense, everything makes sense now.” He began to mumble as he read over the paper he held in his hands. “Yes, it's all there, everything. It all makes sense.”

“What makes sense?” Hermione asked, snapping Guile out of his reading. Guile look at her, and Harry could have sworn he shrunk an inch or two, but only smiled.

“Are you ready for your head to spin?” Guile asked, walking over to Hagrid's empty chair. Hermione nodded, moving in Harry's lap to look at the man. “Well, let me tell you a short recall of everything I told Harry at dinner. That'll save both of you some trouble, because I doubt Harry could understand all of that anyway.” Harry nodded, letting Guile begin.

Hermione sat quickly while Guile talked. Serge had already attempted to explain that she was a blue innate, as Guile pointed out again. He told her of the six innates, which she understood as well. But as he began to explain the idea of souls and innates, she became enraptured with the idea. If he was right then Harry and she were always meant to be together. They were soul mates. She felt her face flush at this thought, and would have to wait to tell Harry later.

“Now, Serge told me that when you first got your weapon, it changed correct?” Guile asked.

“Yes, what does that got to do with this?” Harry said, looking confused.

“Be patient,” Guile said. “You used the red orbs, ruby-like, indicating you're a red innate correct?” Harry nodded again. “But we both know that your specialty is with Lightning. Professor Dumbledore told me that your speed greatly increased. This increase was because of the magic flowing through your veins.” The book in Guile's hands spun so they could read it. “It says here that Godric Gryffindor was a lightning specialist as well. Now, Harry, it may no be apparent until later, but I want you to keep the possibilities open that you are Gryffindor's heir, understand?” All Harry could do was nod this time. He knew he exemplified the qualities of a Gryffindor, but did that make him the heir? “Now if you make the leap of faith, which at this point I believe is required, you will also understand that Gryffindor was a red innate such as yourself. Brave, strong of heart and mind, caring, and a leader. But if this is true, then how would one explain the documented evidence that he was a lightning specialist, if a red innate is associated with fire?”

“What?” Hermione asked, surprised at the statement. “If Godric Gryffindor was a red innate, as you say, his specialty should be fire. Right?”

“You'd think that, but Serge had asked me to do some research on it, that was why I'm here, fraulein” Guile said, pointing to the book. It was a picture, Harry assumed, of Godric and Rowena fighting some creature that looked like a giant porcupine. Godric had black hair, and brown eyes, while Rowena had brown hair and green eyes. A charm that appeared coming from Rowena's finger that was pointed toward Godric's sword. Godric himself was coming down upon the porcupine like monster with his sword. The sword seemed to be covered in fire it appeared to be. The charm seemed to make the fire larger. “Look at that picture, fire around the sword correct?” Both of them nodded as Guile turned the pages. “He definitely is not a fire specialist.” The new picture showed only Godric this time. He was floating above the ground, his hands held close together. Harry watched as a small lightning burst grew from underneath him, filling the entire picture.

“They're magical,” Hermione said, watching as the picture repeated the process.

“Of course,” Guile said. “Why wouldn't the pictures be, fraulein?” Hermione shrugged as they flipped the pages. She did not expect the pictures to be enchanted, that would only explain the length of charm. Another man this time had jumped into the air with his sword, and Godric had summoned a bolt of lightning to charge the sword at point of impact on a creature she could not see. “Anyway, see the magical attributes of Godric that is a lightning specialist. This is only a hypothesis, but I believe that the specialties come through blood, and the innates are directly linked to your soul. This would explain the magic abilities of wizards and witches as well. See the magic must be contained somewhere, and I believe the answer lies within our DNA, but that is still a new concept to Muggles, let alone the Wizarding world. So what I figure is that the magic is passed in something through DNA, but the soul defines the DNA from the beginning of time. Because the soul is split, magic is split between two. Meaning-”

“Meaning if one person had a complete soul, then the magic may be too much for one being to handle,” Hermione said.

“Is that what Voldemort is trying to do?” Harry asked, finally partaking in the conversation. “I mean trying to combine his soul with its counterpart.” Guile sat back in his chair, and a smile came onto his face.

“That is a wonderful hypothesis,” Guile said, turning the book to look at him once more. “I believe that in order to unite two souls, love must exist first. The reason you've survived so long is because of love, and the power that he know not. Voldemort is too dark to attempt to use his other half in these dark activities. I believe there are times that fate feels she is better than us, and entertains herself with manipulation and such of souls. There are some universally recognized evil souls that will appear to be evil no matter what, but upbringing and heritage play a large role in who we become. I believe fate has, for her entertainment, made Voldemort into a pawn for her.”

“Tom Riddle,” Harry said, causing both of them to look at him. “Call him Tom Riddle; he does not deserve the name, or anything that comes with it. And Tom is going to lose.”

“Very well,” Guile said, standing up from his chair. “I've got some more research to do, so if you would leave me.” Hermione stood up automatically from Harry's lap, blushing as Harry stood.

“If you want to use me as a seat, by all means go ahead,” Harry whispered into her ear, causing her to blush even more. He picked up her hand, leading her from the room. He looked back, and watched as Guile floated to his other chair effortlessly and sat cross-legged above the table, reading out of several books, which were also floating. He would ask when the time was right, and now did not seem like a good time, especially with Hermione's pleading look on her face. Sighing, Harry closed the door to the library, and led Hermione up to their room, ready to teach her what he had taught himself only hours before.

Document created with wvWare/wvWare version 1.0.0

-->

A/N: Here is the next chapter. Sorry for not getting it sooner. I've been distracted over the last few days. But here it is, hope y'all like it. Read and Review and Thank you.

Chapter Ten:

Returning to the Dursley's

"Never interrupt your enemy when he is making a mistake." - Napoleon Bonaparte (1769-1821)

Hermione sat in awe as Harry explained his summoning techniques. He had advance further in his studies of wandless magic without trying. He just shrugged his shoulders whenever she asked him how he could even manage such a control over the magic. The only explanation he could give her was that it was their love. It was what allowed him to summon without his wand, but he explained that it took a lot out of him as well.

They were waiting for the Headmaster as they talked over what Dumbledore had told Hermione about her family. Harry pulled her into his lap as she spoke, causing her to blush. She really did not expect him to take her into his embrace, but she was not about to complain. A sense of calm came over her in his arms, and it made it easier for Hermione to talk to him about everything. In his arms serenity was not far off from hope and love.

Harry did his best to remain calm. He knew Hermione needed him at the moment, and he was there, like he always would be. But there was something else eating at him. What else is Dumbledore keeping from them? What else is he hiding to keep them safe? Why did not Dumbledore trust them enough?

“Ah, here you are,” Dumbledore said, looking into their room. “Can I surmise that you two have discussed everything?” Hermione nodded, blushing as she attempted to move out of his lap, but his arms kept her close. Dumbledore gave them a smile as he entered the room.

“Sir, I have a question,” Harry asked, restraining himself. The headmaster nodded, allowing Harry to continue. “What else are you hiding from us? What else is there that will put our lives in danger, or possible could?” Dumbledore sighed. From the look on his face, there appeared to be more. Good or bad, Harry could not discern, but it was hidden and needed to come out. “Please take a seat, if it is going to take a while.” Harry summoned one of the comfortable chairs for the headmaster.

“I see you've progressed with wandless magic,” Dumbledore said with a slight smile. “You both have probably guessed at this point that your are heirs to two of the founders correct?” Harry nodded, while Hermione looked surprised.

“Come on Mione, did you not notice the Rowena looked almost exactly like you with the exception of her eyes?” Harry asked, causing her to blush. She shook her head; she was too surprised to see that Godric looked similar to Harry, with the same exception.

“Yes, you both are the heirs to the founders,” Dumbledore said. “Although it may not be apparent now as it will become later in the year, when the other two are found, you will find yourself being able to use magic easier. If you wish me to be completely honest, then I would have to say that Harry is about the only one that could use wandless magic solely.”

“We already knew that,” Hermione said, looking between the two men. Harry looked at Dumbledore before shaking his head, to which the old man responded in the same manner. Something passed between them that would remain unspoken statement.

“No, we knew I would be more powerful than you in wandless magic, what Professor Dumbledore was saying is that I'm going to be at the point were I will never have to use a wand again if I don't want to,” Harry said, looking over at Dumbledore for confirmation.

“Correct, although it will take a great deal of trying to do so,” Dumbledore said.

“Training starts tomorrow?” Hermione asked, to which Dumbledore nodded.

“You will begin training with your Grandmother Hermione, while Harry will train with me for now,” Dumbledore said, adding a pause as if to wait for their reactions. When nothing came, he continued. “Hermione, you will begin to train your natural healing abilities as well as your wandless potentially; Harry, we will test the limits of your wandless magic tomorrow.” He nodded, thinking about the prophecy once more. As Dumbledore rose to leave, Harry knew he had to speak to the man in private.”

“Hermione let me up, love,” he said, kissing her forehead. A blush crawled across her face as she realized she had been there the entire time.

“Sorry,” she mumbled.

“Quite alright,” Dumbledore said with a chuckle. “It appears that Harry must discuss something with me, so we shall leave you alone for a while. You may want to catch up on your studies. You both will need it.” He chuckled again and left them.

“See you soon,” Harry said, kissing her hand as he left. Blushing, Hermione could not get over how he treated her. Like she was a princess. Maybe her dreams really had come true.

Harry left the room and found Dumbledore standing outside of the room. He turned and closed the door behind, making sure it was shut. “Alright, professor, tell me what I think is already true, and it will be easier for both of us.”

“Being Gryffindor's heir is not the power that he knows not,” Dumbledore said, seeing Harry's shoulders turned to him and slumped.

“I figured as much,” Harry said, turning around to look at him. “So what is it then?”

“You have to figure it out yourself,” Dumbledore said with a twinkle behind his half-moon glasses. “Now, anything else?”

“Not at the moment,” Harry said returning the smile. “But you'll tell me something that applies to my life correct?” Dumbledore nodded.

“Unless it is absolute necessary to keep it from you for Hermione's protection,” Dumbledore said. “Anything about you, I'll happily tell you if you wish to know.”

“Thank you sir,” Harry said. “I'm glad our relationship is back to normal.”

“And what is normal exactly?” Dumbledore said, smirking at the young boy.

“A student and professor aren't often grandfather and grandson,” Harry said. Dumbledore looked at him oddly, but a proud smile was upon his face “If I was let alone, sir, I would probably still resent you for not telling me, but being here, with you and Hermione, has helped I think repair the damage you caused.” He paused for a moment. “I know that you're looking out for me, sir, and you're the only person that has done that beside my parents since I was born, and done so unwaveringly. It doesn't mean that I'm not angry with you sir, I just respect you and understand that your trying to help me.”

“I'm glad you believe that I'm apart of your family Harry,” Dumbledore said with a smile. “Dinner will be around six thirty. The Weasley's have gone home. Guile will be going over there to help Ron with his therapy and his training.”

“Is Ron okay?” Harry asked.

“To be honest, he is in a lot better shape yesterday than he was today,” Dumbledore said. “I believe it was because of something you said to him. What happened last night after dinner?”

“Ron asked Hermione out, and then I went on a rant about our relationship, Hermione's and mine,” Harry said, looking down at the floor. “I just don't like the idea of someone trying to take the only person who has broken through my barriers and found me.”

“Understandable Harry, understandable,” Dumbledore said. “I shall do my best to make sure you remain happy from now on.”

“Don't you mean until I die,” Harry said, looking down at the ground. There was slight pause before Dumbledore spoke again. He felt two hands on his shoulders and he looked up at the aging man.

“I have the utmost confidence in you Harry,” Dumbledore said, a sad smile showing through his beard. “But I believe that the person you need to hear it from the most lies behind that door.” Dumbledore turned him around, making him look at his own door. “She will always be there for you, Harry. Whether you know it or not.”

“Thank you, sir,” Harry said, looking over his shoulder at the retreating Dumbledore. “Thank you for all that you have given to the world.” Smiling to himself, he opened the door to the rest of his life.

* * * * *

Hermione had been so proud of Harry. He was moving at a faster pace than she was with wandless magic, and had insisted on studying every night before they went to bed. He would study everything from transfiguration to charms to help him. Although he was able to simple spells at the moment, he was still striving to completely abandon his wand at a certain point. He hoped he could keep it a secret, and maybe he could. But what truly amazed her was him opening up to her.

His fears, his childhood, his memories of Hogwarts, all were for her to know. Somehow, Harry was able to completely open up to her, which in one sense scared her. She was slightly worried at how all the pain would affect him, later in life. Yes he had opened up to her, but the memories and nightmares could not be fought by her alone. The way he talked was as if he did not want to overcome this, or the final battle for that matter.

They both sat quietly studying at the moment. Hermione had the book opened, playing with Harry's hair as he read from a book on sixth year charms. She had begun to look over the days they had spent together. The way he talked, seemed so final, and opening up like he was, it seemed as if he wished to clear his conscience of everything before going off to… She could not finish the thought, as tears began to fall down her face.

“What's wrong, Mione?” Harry asked, sitting up and wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

“You think you're going to die,” Hermione stated, clinging to him even more. Harry opened his mouth to respond, but only stuttered. Even if he never vocalized it, deep down he thought it was true. Well, he did; with each passing lesson with Dumbledore, his skill grew a little more and with each passing day, his confidence in life grew because of the woman who now clung to his chest.

“I did,” he said truthfully. “But because of the last few days, I've hope. Hope that I'll live til tomorrow; hope that I'll be the father a small army of children,” Hermione giggled and blushed at the thought sent through her head, “hope that I can keep the woman I love safe by my side for the rest of eternity. I can now only hope that I was meant to survive, and meant to live a long happy life.”

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked, looking out of his chest.

“Mione, think about it,” Harry said, looking away from the wall and into her eyes. “My parents both died protecting me; my mother instilled a lasting protection; the prophecy Mione, everything in the prophecy has been true. Things happen for a reason, at least most things do, and I believe that if I'm meant to live, then I will.”

“You are meant to live,” Hermione said sternly. She had to get the point through his thick boyish skull. She cradled his head in her hands, staring deeply into his eyes. “You will give me a great deal of children, and they will give me grandchildren. You will be there to see it all. You are my life, Harry, and if you die, I die.” Harry stared at her in awe. The force and love behind her words, touched him deeply, especially her last statements. Was he really that important, to mean life or death for someone. “And before you dare question it Harry, my life is my choice and my choice is you.” She sealed the statement with a strong kiss, knocking him over in the process.

Harry wrapped his arms around her, preventing her from breaking the connection. He opened his mouth and lightly touched her lips with his tongue. Opening his eyes to look her, Harry smiled slightly at the begging look her eyes. Taunting her a few more times with his tongue only caused her to come after his. He looked into her eyes, finding playfulness within her honey eyes. Before they could continue however, there was a knock on the door.

“Damn,” Harry whispered as they separated. Hermione straighten her hair, or at least attempted and Harry just sat up. “Come in.” He yelled, sending a look toward Hermione that they would finish later. She began to blush, turning her head away.

“Harry, Hermione, I've got good news,” Dumbledore said walking into the room. He just smiled at them as they sat, trying not to blush. “Serge has returned.”

“He's back, did he….?” Her voice gave way to a loud yell from a male.

“Hermione!” The voice said.

“Daddy,” Hermione said, hopping off the bed, and running down the stairs. Harry just smiled at her. Her pain was over. He chuckled lightly as he heard there loud squeals of joy.

“I guess she's found her mother and sister.” Harry said getting off of the bed. “Well, time to meet the parents.”

“Give them a few moments, Harry, I doubt that they would-” his voice was cut off by another yell.

“Harry, come down here this instant!” Hermione yelled up to him. She was so happy. She had her family back, and she had a boyfriend that made her feel like a princess. She wanted her family to meet the Boy-Who-Loved-Her. She giggled to herself as she watched Harry walking coolly down the stairs. “Come on, Harry,” she was beginning to get impatient. She ran up the stairs and grabbed his hand, pulling him down that stairs to meet her family. “Mother, father, this is Harry, my boyfriend.” She seemed more formal now, instead of the little girl she sounded like moments ago.

A moment of silence, before anyone moved. Harry looked between the Grangers. Hermione's mother looked happy and joyful; the expression on Juliet's face was similar. Both women had smiles growing upon their faces. Her father on the other hand, made Harry afraid for his life.

“Glad to meet you all finally,” Harry said with a polite smile. “Your lovely daughter has told me a lot about you.” He glanced over at Hermione, seeing her blush. He smiled inwardly at his accomplishment. She had in fact told he just about everything, but it was the fact that he could get her to blush that he really loved.

“Oh, he's a keeper,” her mother said, pulling the boy in a hug. “Thank you for taking care of our daughter Harry, while we were….away.” Harry awkwardly returned the hug, only to be taken in by Hermione's little sister.

“Hermione told us everything about you,” Juliette said. “She'd never stop talking about you when we're at home.”

“That's enough, Julie,” Hermione's father said, pulling his youngest daughter away from Harry.

“Father, please, relax,” Hermione said, picking up Harry's hand. Harry felt her father's glare bore a hole through him. “You all have been through a lot.”

“Quite right,” Dumbledore said, appearing behind Hermione and Harry. “There is still much to talk about, much to discuss at the moment. But all of that will wait, as dinner is being served as we speak. But before we do that, I do not believe that we all have been introduced.”

“You already know one of our daughters,” Mrs. Granger said with a smile. “This is Juliet,” she pushed the little girl forward.

“Pleased to meet you,” Juilette said, holding her hand out formally. Dumbledore smiled and shook it.

“Pleasure is all mine,” Dumbledore said with a chuckle.

“I'm Elizabeth Granger,” she held her hand as well.

“Once again,” Dumbledore held his smile. The twinkle was wide in his eyes, and Harry could tell there something else behind it: small tears.

“And finally my husband,” Mrs. Granger pulled on her husband's arm, preventing him from glaring at Harry. “Charles.”

“Finally good to meet you all,” Dumbledore said with a smile. “Now, there are a few other people I would like you to meet.”

“Whatever happened to Serge,” Mrs. Granger said as they began to walk to the dinning room. “I mean, he brought us here, than closed the door behind him.”

“Before you go on your explanation of what happened, I believe we shall wait until a later time, for now, let's just go enjoy a quiet dinner. I believe Serge took his daughter out for a little shopping.” There was a smirk on his, and he chuckled at a personal joke. “Now, please, sit were you wish to.” Hermione noticed the table had decreased in size, built for the eight of them. McGonagall and Hagrid were already seating and talking about something. Juilette seemed taken back at the size of the groundskeeper.

“This is Ruebus Hagrid, keeper of the keys at Hogwarts,” Dumbledore said. Hagrid stood up from his chair and walked over to shake their hands. “And this is my daughter, Minerva McGonagall.” McGonagall did the same thing, Mrs. Granger, I wonder if I may be so rude to impose a question.” Elizabeth shook her head.

“After all you're done for our family, a question seems a plausible continuation,” she smiled at the older man. Hermione held onto Harry's hand tightly. She wanted to tell her mother that they had found her mother.

“Well, I understand that you were adopted, correct?” Elizabeth nodded solemnly. “And that you've search everywhere for your mother, correct?” She nodded again, eyes beginning to grow full of tears. “Well, I'd like to introduce you for the first time, to your mother, Minerva?” Dumbledore motioned for the deputy headmistress to come over.

“Wh-what?” Elizabeth said, her knees buckling. Her husband caught her, looking between his wife and McGonagall.

“If this is a joke…” Charles said, his voice growing low.

“No joke, no joke,” Dumbledore said slightly chuckling. “For now, you will have to take my word on this. Elizabeth, you are my grandchild, Minerva's child.” Mrs. Granger looked over to Hermione, who nodded.

“Its true, its true,” Hermione said, tears flowing down her cheeks. She watched her mother look between McGonagall and her again, before wrapping the headmistress in a tight embrace.

“Julie, come here,” Mrs. Granger said, pulling out of the embrace. “I'd like you meet your grandmother.” Julie looked confused for a moment or two.

“Grandmamma? Julie asked the confusion on her faces. McGonagall nodded, and found herself surrounded in another hug. Hermione looked at Harry, who simply nodded, and gave her hand an affectionate squeeze.

“Go on,” Harry said with a smile. He knew that she wanted to join in the family hug. He felt a little jealous of the moment, he always had with the Weasleys. It was just something he had learn to deal with. He had never grown up with a family, but at Hogwarts, he had found one, and this one, he promised to himself, as he watched Hermione being embraced by her grandmother as well, that he would not lose a member of them. Not a single member.

Mister Granger stood back, a smile on his face. His eyes caught Harry's at one point, and the smile turned into a scowl. Harry inwardly sighed; he knew it was going to be difficult getting Mister Granger's trust. He turned his gazed toward Dumbledore, and smiled at the old man. Harry could see the tears in the old man's eyes. For maybe the first time, since Harry had known the man, he was openly showing an emotion other than his usual cool and calm exterior.

“Make a good family,” Hagrid said. Harry turned to see the gentle giant standing beside him, his hand on Harry's shoulder.

“I've got one too, Hagrid,” Harry said, placing a hand over his. “And I can't imagine it without you.”

“Thank you Harry,” Hagrid said. “Yeh hungry?”

“Starved,” Harry laughed. He and Hagrid walked over to the table and sat down, filling up their plates. Harry kept glancing over her shoulder, waiting for everyone else as he slowly ate his dinner. Hermione took her place next to him, with McGonagall sitting next to her. Dumbledore took his place at the head of the table, opposing Hagrid. Mrs. Granger sat next to her grandfather, and Juliet was between her parents. Harry felt the glare from Hermione's father as he prepared her plate for her before continuing.

Dinner was filled with silent conversation. Dumbledore, Hagrid, and McGonagall all talked about Hogwarts, intriguing Juliet. Harry sat quietly, entertaining himself by pushing his food around his plate. He had long dropped Hermione's hand, under the glare of her father. Although he loved Hermione, he figured that her father did not like the idea of some teenager accosting his daughter in the manners that he had. Mr. Granger had not removed his glare from Harry since the beginning of dinner.

“Mister Granger, may I have a word with you,” Harry said, rising from his seat. Dinner was not close to being over, the surprised looks on everyone's faces was evident of that.

“Sure, Harry,” he said with forced politeness. He stood and they walked to the large doors. Harry opened them and let Mister Granger through first.

“Be back soon,” Harry said with a charismatic smile. As he closed the doors, he found Mister Granger scowling at him again. “I assume you know what this is about?”

“My daughter,” came the response.

“Then you have to know that I love her more than life itself,” Harry said staring back at the man. “You may ask her or the headmaster, but I've needed her more than anyone else in the world this past month; heck I needed her these past five years to survive.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“I want you to know that we have not gone any further than kissing,” Harry said, crossing his arms waiting for Mister Granger's response. “I respect your daughter too much, sir. I told you, she is my life.”

“I want to thank you for your honesty, Harry,” Mister Granger said, showing no other emotion. “But I don't want you touching my daughter, you understand me?” He walked forward, as if threatening Harry.

“If you're trying to make me leave, you can't, sir,” Harry stood his ground. “I've told you my feelings for you, my best friend was hitting on her and I told him off; I've faced the Dark Lord of our generation and you think you can frighten me.”

“You have time and time again put my daughter in compromising positions where she could get hurt,” Mister Granger said without batting an eye. “Listen here, boy, you touch me daughter again it will be you who is paying, understand?” Mister Granger said, stomping back into the room. Harry shook his head, partially disgusted with his behavior, but mainly with Mister Granger. He believed Hermione's father to be a more sensible type of person. As he walked back in, he could see that Mister Granger had taken his seat next to Hermione.

Knowing he was going to get an earful for it later, Harry sighed deeply and spoke: “Professor, I'm feeling a little sick. I'm going to lay down and study some more.” He apparently had everyone's attention at the moment. “Hermione finish eating please?” Harry knew she had stood up to leave with him, but could not face her father. “Sorry for leaving early everyone, goodnight.” He said without looking back as well. He silently walked out of the door.

“What did you say to him father?” Hermione said turning on the man next to her. “He was happy until you showed up.”

“Maybe he isn't the right guy for you?” Mister Granger suggested, as he took his plate from the other side and began to eat.

“How can you say that?” Hermione screamed. “He's the perfect guy for me!”

“Honey relax,” Mrs. Granger said, trying to calm her oldest daughter.

“I will not relax,” Hermione screamed again, standing up from her seat. “The man I love just walked out of here because of something you said to him. And if I'm made to choose over him or our family……I'll….I'll choose him, because I already have.” Tears were falling down her cheeks as she tore through the hallway. She ran up the stairs and slammed the door to her room shut.

“Mione?” Harry was lying on the bed. He had been studying something for his training when she came bursting into their room. In one swift motion, he had her in his arms, attempting to comfort her. “Mione, angel, are you okay?” She shook her head as she sobbed into his chest. “I'm sorry for leaving you; I just couldn't stay there after what your father said to me.”

“It's alright,” she said after a few moments of silence with the exception of her sobs. “But I made them know, that I'm in this forever.”

“As am I,” Harry said, pulling back slightly. “I already told you that I would put ring on your finger, when the spirit moves me.” Harry said, picking her hands up in his. He began to kiss her fingers lightly, never taking his eyes off of her. “I love you Mione, and I will marry, when the time is right. And I will do it no matter what your father says, because all that matters is what you say.”

“Thank you Harry,” Hermione said, collapsing into his arms.

“Mione, I've already told you, that I'm the one that needs to thank you,” Harry said, running a hand through her hair. “I love you, and you're the constant in my life, my rock, my sunshine, my-”

“Harry!” She squealed slightly. She still was not used to being talked to like that. It felt wonderful and calming and amazing…. She just could not think of enough words. “When did you become a poet?”

“Since you first said you loved me,” he said with a smile. “I'm not always going to be like this though. Just every now and again.”

“Harry? Harry?” He turned to look at the door then back at Hermione.

“You heard Moony's voice right?” He asked her. She nodded.

“Harry?”

“Moony?” He called back, only to be answered with several pounding steps up the stairs. The door slammed opened, showing the aged Marauder

“Harry! Hermione!” In one swift movement, Lupin had gathered them both in a large hug, one that rivaled Hagrid's or maybe even Sirius's bear hug. Any following thought was derailed by Lupin's words. “It's great to see you two again.”

“When did you get back?” Harry asked, surprised at seeing his mentor here.

“Few minutes ago,” Lupin said with a large smile. “Tonks is downstairs right now, giving Ron a run for his money.” Everyone had a laugh at this, even if Hermione's was a nervous one. She still did not know how Ron was taking her relationship with their best friend.

“Where were you?” Harry asked, still not getting over the shock.

“We were collecting some information for Professor Dumbledore. Recon mostly,” Lupin said. “And before you ask, he had us follow known Death Eaters, and try to find You-Know-Who's potential HQ. He apparently has gone into hiding. And with the loss of Grimmauld Place, we have yet to find another secure meeting place.”

“Tom hasn't tried to attack me in a long time,” Harry said shaking his head. “I might have something to do with what I sent him.”

“You sent You-Know-Who something?” Lupin said in shock. Hermione gave him the same look.

“Yeah, but I still don't understand how I did it or what it was,” Harry said, sitting down on the bed.

“When did you do this?” Hermione asked, picking his hand up in hers.

“Right before I received your letter,” Harry said, attempting to smile. “I had sent a letter to Professor Dumbledore, telling him about another attack from Voldemort. He kept entering through my mind, trying to break my spirit.” He shuddered as a memory of her swinging lifelessly appeared, even though he knew the visions had not gone that far. “I found a memory deep inside, and somehow, sent him a copy of it, and I heard a loud painful scream.”

“What memory?” Lupin asked, kneeling down to look at Harry. He chuckled lightly as he recalled.

“The day when Hermione returned from the hospital our second year…” Harry said, his voice trailing off as he looked at her. A large blush came across her face. “I think it was then that I began to figure out that I had something inside me, begging to come out. My love for my love.” He lifted their joined hands to his mouth, kissing hers lightly. The blush became more apparent.

“I seem you found the same help that I did in Tonks,” Lupin said with a knowing smile. “She has helped me get over Sirius, much like Hermione has helped you.”

“Not all of it,” Harry said grimly, “but most of it. There still is one matter of business that you and I need to take care of.”

“What would that be?” Lupin asked.

“I know I'm not of legal age, and I haven't read Sirius's will, but the point is, I no longer have a legal guardian. I-I-I want you to be him,” Harry said, summoning what courage he could. By doing this, he finalized Sirius's death and that was something that he still barely grasped. “I want you to be my godfather.”

“Are you sure?” Lupin asked, surprised at the request.

“No matter what the will says, no matter what Mrs. Weasley may say, or Dumbledore may say, I think its my choice who I want looking out for me for the remainder of my life,” Harry said. “I can't explain why, I just need you there, looking out for me, much like in our third year. So will you?”

“Til the end of my days,” Lupin said, holding his hand as tears fell down his face.

“No,” Harry said firmly, “`til the end of my days.” He shook his mentor's hand, sealing in his heart the deal. A quick burst of purple light surrounded their hands.

“What was that?” Harry asked, as they pulled their hands apart. He felt like all feeling had left his hand

“That was a binding magical contract,” Lupin said, smirking. “I should have figured that Sirius would put something like that in his will.” He shook his hand as well. “Well, I guess there is no changing it now.” Both of them laughed nervously.

“Thank you,” Hermione said, surprising them both by hugging the professor. “Thank you for giving him someone else to believe in.” Harry stood up as well, joining in the impromptu hug. Lupin pulled him into it. Harry could here him whispering a small pray as they stood. In his heart, Harry had already thanked whatever deities watched over him, for giving him this life.

* * * * *

For the past hour, Harry was cursing the deities of the universe. It was his birthday, and he was on his way to the Dursleys's at the moment. Without Hermione.

It all started with Mister Granger refusing to let Hermione sleep in the same room as him, especially the same bed. And without Hermione, nightmares upon nightmares returned. Anything from Tom Riddle to losing her to the Dursleys to losing her were in his nightmares. That did not stop her from using their connected bathroom to see him and visit him. Beyond his training and some talks with Lupin and Tonks, who were now finally officially going out, he had spent most of his time in his room, reading with Hermione, the door locked.

But the straw that broke the camels back came the night before his birthday. Serge had finally returned with Grace, who now was the proud owner of a little black Labrador. Now he had offered to take both Harry and Hermione to the Dursleys's. But Mister Granger could not have that; nope he had to make Harry's life a living hell.

So after a tearful goodbye and a heartfelt promise, Harry was in the passenger seat of a red convertible Mustang, the back of which was filled with two duffle bags, a guitar, and a couple of books Harry brought with. When he asked Serge about the guitar, he simply said there was no point in both of them being bored, and when asked about the black duffles, he changed the subject.

And now, now he watched as they drove though a sub-division as Serge refused to stop and ask for directions. Harry knew the way; once he found streets he recognized it was easy. Serge did find it eventually, and then proceeded to park the car. He then put on a long black jacket; it was like something out of one of the mob movies he had caught glimpses of on the telly. He slid on a pair of black sun glasses and picked up the two duffle bags.

“You going to kill someone?” Harry asked jokingly. Serge stopped walking up the driveway, and turned to look back at him. Guess it was not a joke.

“Harry, before we enter, I'm going to tell you something that only Hermione can know alright?” He asked, dropping the bags. “I can not do magic, before you ask, I'll explain later, but for now let me speak.” Harry nodded as Serge fixed the glove on his right hand. “All my skills come from the power of my mind. I have the ability to access and control a larger percentage of my brain, but I'm able to focus it beyond ninety-nine percent of the population. This focus allows me to create the constructs you've seen me use. They also give me access to telepathy and empathy. When I walk into that house, I will be bombarded with emotions and feelings from years past.” Harry's face grew pale at this. “Before I go in there, I want you to know, that I know what they did to you. I can see it in your mind.”

“You read my mind?” Harry asked. Serge just shook his head.

“No, you allowed those fears to fly openly and my powers allow me at times to grasp upon floating memories and from there I determine what I want from them,” Serge said openly. “Now if you don't mind. I have some business to conduct. I want you to follow me, but don't say anything. Clear?” Harry could only nod. He still was taking everything in. “Good.” He picked up the bags and walked the remainder of the way to the door. Harry quickly grabbed his books and followed the strange man.

Harry followed Serge and stood behind the man. Serge placed one bag on the ground as he rang the door bell. Harry could tell there was a smirk on the man's face as he slammed his fist against the door several times.

“Watch this,” Serge whispered, looking over his shoulder. Harry tried to hold by his smile and Serge slammed his fist against the door again. “Mister Dursley may I have a word with you?” He yelled, slamming his fist against the door again. “Aah, good, you answered, well, my employer will be staying here for the remainder of the day.”

“Your employer?” Vernon asked.

“Yes sir, and as his bodyguard I must make sure that a place such as this is not a threat to my employer,” Serge said.

“No see here, I will not have some-some-some nobody come here and make demands,” Vernon said, poking Serge in the chest.

“Hello, Uncle Vernon,” Harry said, from behind Serge. He stepped aside to allow Vernon to see him. “My bodyguard is here to ensure that nothing happens to me.” He sent a pointed look at his uncle. “Now, please, allow me to enter my home.” He spoke the last word with a loathing feeling.

“Better do as he says, Mister Dursley, or I'll have to move you myself,” Serge said moving in front of Vernon again. “Now, please fetch my employer a glass of milk and some cookies. We will remain in his room until lunch time. I expect a fruitful meal on the plates at twelve. My employer needs to keep up his eating habits.” Vernon nodded as Serge stared him down. Although Harry and Serge were about the same height, there was an aura around him that made him appear bigger at times that he really was.

“Glass of milk and cookies, what am I six?” Harry asked quietly as he tried to hold back his chuckles.

“First thing that came to my mind, now shut up boss,” Serge said, mockingly. “Where's Dudley's second room?” Harry looked at him oddly. “I figured you'd probably tell me that it was underneath the stairs if I asked where your room was.”

“How di-di-did you know?” Harry asked. He stopped walking up the stairs.

“I'll tell you in here,” Serge said, as he got to Harry's room. “I assume it's the one with padlocks on the outside?” Harry nodded still in shock. Before Serge could open the door however, Dudley's door opened.

“Who are you?” Dudley asked in a superior tone.

“Me, I am a paid bodyguard that can kill a man six different ways without using this,” Serge said, looking back toward Harry who had moved to the side to see Dudley's expression. Harry saw him move his jacket back and Dudley's face pale. “Get out of my way, pig.” Serge said. Dudley slid by Serge, which was an amazing feat in itself, then nearly bowled Harry down as he went down the stairs.

“What did you show him?” Harry asked as Serge unlocked the door and opened it.

“A pistol,” he said closing the door behind Harry. “Now, I want to know exactly what Guile told you about your heritage?”

“What?” Harry asked as he put down his books on his bed.

“I know Guile must have told you about your heritage, being directly related to Gryffindor, correct?” Harry nodded as Serge took a seat at the chair near Harry's desk. “He told you that he believes you to be a red innate, correct?” Harry nodded again as Serge placed one of his bags on top of the table. “Bullshit. You are not a red innate and I can prove it.” He reached inside the bag and pulled out a red orb. “What's inside of this?”

“A flame,” Harry said as he took it out of Serge's hands. He handed it back to Serge who just smiled.

“And this one?” He was handed a white orb this time. Harry reached out for it and felt an odd calm surround his body. Looking into the orb, he could see a stag, or was it a unicorn, running around inside. He nearly dropped it, causing Serge to smirk.

“And that is why you aren't a red innate,” Serge said taking back the white orb. “Those two orbs I gave you were summons. Summons are able to produce a massive amount of energy from within a person and produce a great deal of force.”

“But you gave me one, I think,” Harry said, thinking back to his fight with Ron. Choking back his tears, he knew he had to continue. “Sirius Black, my godfather-”

“Guile's father,” Serge interrupted. Harry nodded, slightly annoyed, and continued.

“My godfather came out of that orb, spoke to me and saved me from whatever Ron was,” Harry said, shaking his head. “I still don't know what it is and Dumbledore said he would show us. I must've forgotten or something.”

“Nope, my grandfather just didn't want you to know what it is, because he does not know exactly what it is,” Serge said with a smile. “And to explain why your godfather came out of the orb. Well, all I can offer is he is helping you from beyond the grave. The red orb I gave you holds a salamander inside; I assume you know what that is?” Harry nodded again, thinking back to all of his study sessions with Hermione. “A Red innate can only summon the salamander. The orb your godfather came out of what is normally the Red Wolf summon.”

“He was an Animagus,” Harry said quietly. “He could change into a large dog, and that was what he did in the flames. But you have some more to explain to me, like why you're carrying a gun, or what you started outside.”

“Well, I carry guns and such because they are more effective, although more brutal, than ninety-percent of the spells in a wizards arsenal,” Serge said, removing the pistol from the holster. “For some reason, I choose a different path. One that did not include magic. And yet somehow, I am able to use some of the most powerful spells there are. I mean my Patronus can put almost anyone's to shame.” He chuckled to himself. “But then again, I can't transfigure the simplest of objects. Charms, I've found are an extension of the mind, therefore, I am capable of such.”

There was a knock upon the door. “Come in,” Harry said. His aunt came in with a glass of milk in one hand, and several of the cookies that Dudley supposedly kept hidden. “Thank you.” Harry took them both and gave his aunt a smile as she skittishly went out the room. “Why did you scare them so much?”

“A little fear may help render some actions useless,” Serge said with a shrug of his soldiers. “So how does it feel to be back home?”

“This isn't my home,” Harry said, looking around the room. “It's just my place of residence for the summer.” Serge nodded, as he stood up to leave. He stopped at the door and looked back at Harry.

“So Hogwarts is your home then?” He offered. Harry just shook his head as a smile crawled across his face. He had thought that as well for a long time, but it was not, not really. Hogwarts seemed like home because of the feelings, but he had found those feelings someplace else. And now that was home.

“Hermione's my home,” he said proudly. He began to flip through the pages of the book on enchantments, completely missing the shocked and worried look on Serge's face.

Document created with wvWare/wvWare version 1.0.0

-->

A/N: This chapter may break me in some people's eyes. I explain a lot here, in a relatively short amount of time, or at least that is how I see it. This chapter will help explain Sirius coming from the red orb, and I changed brainflows during this chapter, just trust me that everything will make sense. Read and Review please.

Chapter Eleven:

Return of Prongs

“It's a dangerous business going out your front door.” - J. R. R. Tolkien

“What did you say?” Serge asked.

“I said Hermione is my home,” Harry said confused. What was so wrong with that? He felt safe and calm with Hermione. He believed that his home was supposed to be like that.

“Harry, do you understand what Dumbledore said to you about your mother's protection?” Serge said, moving to the desk. He began to fish for something within the bag as Harry thought about what the protection did.

“He said that the protection would be up as long as I….” Harry's voice trailed off as he came to the realization. “My home is not with my mother's blood.”

“And if I don't contact someone soon, we'll be in deep shit,” Serge said, pulling out what looked like a walkie-talkie. “Guile you better be on the other fuckin' end, over.” He said into it as he searched through the bag some more. “I assume you didn't bring your wand.”

“I always have it,” Harry said, pulling it out from behind his back. The sound of Mad-eye Moody yelling “CONSTANT VIGILANCE” rang through his ears. “And I've got my wandless magic.”

“That should be fine for now,” Serge said, pulling out what looked like a large pistol. “Called a magnum. Shots can pierce a steel wall six inches thick. Especially with the enhancements I've given to it.” He went back to searching through the bag and pulled out another pistol as well several other types of guns. “Catch.” He said, tossing Harry a gun. “Don't worry, that has rubber bullets in it. Should not hurt as much, will just give someone a very large and very painful welt. Possible break the skin from a close distance.”

“This is Guile, over.” The walkie-talkie said.

“Well thanks for takin' a fuckin' long time. I need you to warn my grandfather that the protection is gone, over.” Serge said, looking over at Hermione. “And tell Hermione not to worry, Harry's fine at the moment, over.”

“Roger,” Guile said through some static.

“Now, I don't expect anything at the moment, but just to be safe, we are going to stay here,” Serge said to Harry.

“I highly doubt that they are watching this place twenty-four-seven. How much long do we have to stay?” Harry asked, placing the gun on the bed stand. He did not like the cold metal in his hands. It just felt wrong to have such power in his hands. He had seen enough movies or glimpses of to know that they were dangerous.

“A long time,” Serge said, shaking his head. “And that is what troubles me.”

* * * * *

“What?” Hermione screamed as she listened to the conversation Dumbledore just had with Guile. He had appeared in the middle of attempting to cheer her up, but she preferred to sulk at the moment. That moment was over. “It's gone?”

“I'm afraid that it is,” Dumbledore said in a soft voice. Hermione immediately turned toward her father, fury in her eyes.

“You made sure that I couldn't go with him,” Hermione cried as the tears began to fall. “He is in the house of his nightmares and if anything happens to him, mentally or physically, I'm blaming you.”

“Dear, please relax,” Mrs. Granger said to her oldest daughter.

“Don't tell me to relax,” Hermione said. “The man I love is now in danger because you wouldn't let me go with him.”

“What do you mean?” Dumbledore asked. Hermione turned to look at him and some of her fury calmed.

“He's already told me I'm his home,” Hermione said wiping away some of the tears. “And from what you've told me, he must call the place of his mother's blood home. If I was there, it still would be his home.” She sank to her knees, crying into her hands. “It's all my fault.” Her mother wrapped her in a hug as Mister Granger stood over them.

“It's not your fault, honey, it's his,” Mister Granger said. Hermione's face snapped up at once, her eyes filled with a cold fury again.

“It isn't and never will be his fault,” Hermione said, calmly. It betrayed her true emotions, ones of hate and anger all directed at her father for his words and actions. “You're keeping me from my love, my life and my home. I will not leave him alone, nor will I ever betray him. I love him!” She screamed the last part at her father before falling to the floor once more McGonagall gathered her granddaughter in a hug as her daughter stood up from the floor.

“Before you say another word, let me speak,” Mrs. Granger said. Her husband closed his mouth and stared ahead at his wife. “We had this same fight before she left to comfort Harry. If you have not noticed or been to blind by protecting your daughter from the supposed dangers that young men can bring to her. Hermione has faced more in the past five years that either of us has seen in our lives. And throughout all of her stories and all of her tears, there was this very vivid concern and care for a boy by the name of Harry James Potter. The same boy you threatened yesterday to stay away from our daughter. I love you Charles, and I always will, but if you jeopardize our daughter's chances of happiness because of your fear of losing her, so help me.”

“I will not let some boy hurt our daughter,” Mister Granger said after finding his voice.

“He's not hurt her, you are,” Mrs. Granger said, pointing at their daughter. “I too had my doubt about her dating, but this isn't about that. It never was. She did go with that one boy in her fourth year, but only because he had asked her before Harry did. That is what she had told us, and after the way he treated her, we didn't want that to happen again. But when we walked into this house to see Hermione with the largest smile on her face I've ever seen because of that young man with her, I knew that they were in love. Because she had the same smile on her face, as I still do when I'm with you.” Tears were running down Hermione's mother's cheeks at the moment. She was just beginning to get control over her emotions as her father wrapped her mother in a hug.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered. “I'm so sorry.”

Guile burst into the room, but what caught Hermione's eye was that he was not running. He was floating a good half foot above the ground. He immediately went over to Dumbledore's side and his feet returned to the ground. The pale expression on Dumbledore's face did not do anything to help quench her growing fears.

“Hermione come with me this moment,” Dumbledore said, gliding from the room himself. “Minerva I want you to alert the Order, tell them to immediately go to Pivet Drive, Number Four.”

“What happened?” Hermione asked as they stopped in front of a large fireplace.

“We're are about to find out,” Dumbledore said, picking up a small handful of Floo Powder. He entered the fireplace, which grew to accommodate them both. “Hold onto me please.” Hermione nodded, shaking from fear of what she was going to find. “Vernon Dursley residence.” He said in a stoic voice. He threw down some of the powder and Hermione felt them being pulled.

As she tumbled out of the Dursley's fireplace, she was picked up and pulled away. She vaguely saw Dumbledore running behind her as she started to scream. The fireplace exploded once seconds after Dumbledore let it.

“Mione, relax,” Harry said, putting her down. She immediately stopped screaming and buried her head in his chest, clinging to him desperately. “Get down.” Harry pushed them both to the floor, held his wand raised as two Death Eaters attacked through the back door. “Stupefy! Stupefy!” He yelled.

“Nice shot,” Serge said, hoping down from a hole in the ceiling.

“What's going on here?” Dumbledore asked as Serge ran off with what Hermione thought to be two sub-machine guns.

“Well, you better stay down,” Harry said, pulling out a small orb from his pocket. It was white, but not unlike the red ones that Hermione saw Serge give him before his bout with Ron. “Serge, I need two more.”

“Give me time,” he said. They heard a grunt, followed by the sound of several hundred clips being unleashed into the night. “Bastards keep coming and coming.”

“Let's tie them up before we talk.” Dumbledore flicked his wand, summoning ropes. Harry smiled gratefully at him. “Thank you.” He said this as he slide the orb back into his pocket.

“What's going on?” Hermione asked, clinging to Harry again. For the first time, she noticed the grim and dust that covered him. There was a small cut above his left brow, but he did not seem to notice or care.

“We think it's a combination of siege with both Muggle and Wizard tech,” he said, looking out the back door, or what remained of it. “The Muggles don't see it because Serge made me cast as spell that would prevent them.”

“You put up a ward?” Hermione asked as he pulled her closer. He nodded once, looking around again.

“Two down, one left,” Serge yelled over the dropping shells.

“When did this start?” Dumbledore asked, still one the ground

“About two maybe three hours ago,” Harry said, standing up. He pointed his wand out of the door. “Cover your eyes.” He said. Hermione did as she was told and vaguely saw something that would haunt her for years to come. The bloody cubby hand of someone crushed underneath the weight of the now fallen wall. “ Hermione!” She quickly did as she was told, trying to block out the images.

“God forgive me.” Harry whispered to himself. “Solaris strages!” The sounds of screams echoed through his mind. He was told himself that it was war, and people were hurt in war. `That doesn't make it right.” He told himself as he knelt next to Hermione. Looking at the limb hand of his cousin, he let out a deep sigh. He hated them yes, but not enough to wish for their deaths. And the look in Hermione's face made him realize she had seen it two.

“They were sitting at the table, when they attacked from above. Serge was thrown through the floor, and on top of Dudley,” he said, holding his pain in. No tears would fall for his cousin, but that did not mean it did not hurt. “Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia both were killed with the Killing Curse.” He grimaced at the new forming memories. “But not before watching their son die. He saved them you know?” he looked at Hermione who was helping Dumbledore off the floor.

“You mean his parents?” Hermione said, wrapping her arms around him. He nodded.

“I was down here, talking with them, trying to get them to reason with the notion of leaving here,” he said, looking at the dirtied counter. “Dudley pushed them out of the way of the falling debris. Two curses came through the windows to hit them before they knew what else happened. And we've been fighting a losing battle since.” He looked at the professor, who was gazing around the room, looking through all of the windows. His eyes fell to two people covered in blankets.

“I'm sorry for having you to go through this Harry,” Dumbledore said shaking his head as he looked out the back door. “You'll have to forgive an old man.”

“I did the moment I found out,” Harry said with the smallest of smiles. “I knew that you'd never send me somewhere were I could get hurt. The Dursley's were an outside force that was not expected.”

“It's done chief, and its night, lets start that light show!” Serge yelled. The sound of the shells dropping stopped.

“”Will you keep her safe?” Harry looked at Dumbledore who just nodded. He started to walk out of the kitchen, only to be tackled by Hermione.

“Don't go, please don't go,” Hermione said, crushing him. “Don't get hurt.”

“I won't be,” he said with a small smile.

“How do you know?” Hermione asked, pulling her head out of his chest. He just smiled at her and took out the small white orb again.

“We're ending it Hermione. The siege will end; no one else will be hurt.” She nodded, but did not release him. “I need to do this Hermione, for you. To keep you safe.”

“Hermione, let him go,” Dumbledore said. She nodded, allowing the Headmaster to pull her back slowly and Harry to back up.

“I'll be back love, I promise,” he said, taking off in the direction of the front door. The look in her eyes gave him the strength he needed to do this. This was war, and this war was for her, for them. It was so they could live happily ever after, like in the fairy tales he had heard about.

“Dad, I need you're help now,” he said, looking down at the orb in his hands. Concentrating, Harry began to send his magic and energy through the orb, drawing his hands together in front of him. He watched as the Death Eaters began to surround him, as did the light. “God forgive me for my actions.” Harry said, pushing the final amount of energy he had left into the orb. The light began to grow bright and larger, swallowing the Death Eaters. He opened his eyes at the sound of hooves planting themselves on the ground. Feeling his own feet touch the ground, he choked back the tears and smiled at the stag in front of him.

Without saying a word, Harry moved his hand up to touch the stag, who just stared at him for a moment before moving into the touch. “Dad?” Harry asked, still in shock. The stag nodded, and with a twinkle in his eyes, turned toward Death Eaters who still were closing in on them. Rearing up on his hind legs, Prongs tore into a groups of Death Eaters with a fury Harry could only imagine. One Death Eater attempted to curse the stag, who plowed into him in a matter of moments. As time passed, Harry realized the ground was lighting up with each step the stag took. Shining in a bright light, the stag easily dispatched the remainder of the Death Eaters.

Hermione vaguely saw the form of Harry's Patronus charm on the field, but there were no Dementors, so why would he summon it? Tears falling down his face, she knew her place and tore out of the house after him. “I'm here Harry, I'm here.”

“Mione?” Harry asked as his knees gave out. The stag turned around as the final Death Eaters disappeared and walked back to them. Aurors and Order member began to appear. Most were taken back at the disheveled shape. “Mione, meet my Dad.” The stag knelt slightly in front of his, lifting her hand with his head. She petted him gently, tears falling down her own face as she realized, by some means, Harry had brought his father back to life. A bright light and before them stood James Potter.

“Hello son,” James said with a large smile. Harry was off the ground, standing up before his father. “You can hug me if you want to.” There was nervousness in his voice, but Harry did not hesitate. He surrounded his father in a bear hug. A sense of warmth filled him. “It's feels good to finally be able to do that. I'm going to miss it so much.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked as the tears began to fall again. “You're back. That's all the matters.”

“I'll be leaving soon,” James said with a sad smile. “You must be Hermione Granger.” He looked over at her, the smile shining. “I'm glad my son found you. You're what he needs, what he'll always need in life.”

“Thank you, Mister-” Hermione started, but was silence by a hug.

“Call me Dad,” James said. “You've grown so big Harry, I'm sorry we weren't there for you like we should've been, but remember we love and we've always have.” He lifted his son's face to look at him. “I'll be back whenever you need me. Three shines of a star and I'm there.” Harry nodded, hugging his father tighter.

“Tell Mum I love her,” Harry said. Hermione watched through her own tears as James began to fade.

“Tell Remus that he'll be a great father,” James said with a knowing smile. Harry looked puzzled for a moment as he father ruffled his hair. “Goodbye my son, and Happy Birthday.” James began to fade out of sight.

“Goodbye….Dad….” His voice trailed off as James disappeared completely. His tight hug caught Hermione and he felt himself fall to the ground, his knees giving way.

Hermione held onto Harry with everything she had. It had been hard for her to listen to Harry's father say she was what he needed, but it must have been even worse for Harry to finally see his father and them lose him again. She saw Serge walking out of the house, holding two duffle bags as he walked over to the remains of a convertible.

“Aw, those bastard wreck my car,” Serge said, throwing the bags into the back of the car. Hermione could see a great deal of hole in the side of the car as well as burns.

“It appears that you did the most damage to it yourself,” Dumbledore said with a chuckle that lasted only momentarily. “Are you okay Harry?”

“I saw my Dad,” he said. The tears were finally stopping; he was now able to take in everything he heard, everything he saw. “He was here. He saved us.”

“Your father appeared, like your Patronus,” Dumbledore said thinking for a moment. Harry nodded, showing the now dull white orb in his hand. “I see my grandson has shown you another why to focus magic. Or rather focus the bodies energies.”

“There is more to it than that,” Harry said shaking his head. “I think it focuses memories as well. But my father never knew Hermione though?”

“Well, the ones we love never truly live us, and they're always watching over us,” Dumbledore said, kneeling down to eye-level.

“Nope, you're wrong,” Serge said, coming over to them. “These don't channel memories. Summons channel spirits. Whether human, animal or mystical, they channel spirits. So if Harry saw his father, he probably did see his father.” He walked back into the house.

“Why does he just give us partial information?” Hermione asked. “He just gives us some then leaves us hanging for more.”

“Just the way he is,” Dumbledore said with a chuckle.

“Harry!” Lupin said, rushing over to him. Tonks wasn't too far behind him. “Are you alright?” Harry nodded, standing up.

“I guess I am,” he said as he helped Hermione up. “Prongs helped me.” He smiled at Hermione who hugged his tightly.

“What?” Lupin said. Shock was written across his face. “how?”

“I really don't know, but he showed up and saved us,” Harry said. “I now just need to see my mother, and I'll have finally said goodbye to them all.” Tears were falling, and he felt Hermione wiping them off of his face. He gave her a smile, holding her tighter.

“He also said that you'd make a great father,” Harry said, looking between Tonks and Lupin. Tonks was blushing madly at the moment and Lupin's face had turned paler.

“How did he know?” Lupin said looking at Tonks, who blushed deeper.

“You mean….” Harry's voice dropped out as Hermione squealed. Tonks nodded as Lupin wrapped his arms around her, whispering the same thing over and over again. Tonks lifted her hand to show the engagement ring. Tears were in her eyes.

“I found out this morning,” she said through her tears.

“So in some sense, you're my godmother?” Harry asked, looking at Tonks. She nodded, as he gave her an awkward smile. “Can I welcome you to the family?” Harry asked, opening his arms.

“You really don't have a choice Harry,” Lupin said with a laugh, pulling them both into a hug. “You two Hermione. Got to know my godson's girlfriend right?” She blushed at this as she was pulled into the hug. As they pulled apart, Harry felt a warmth rise within him. He now had a family. Lupin and Tonks would look out for him, and Hermione…Hermione would be Hermione, his light, his angel….his everything.

“Thank you Mione, for being with me,” Harry whispered as he watched Serge exit the house and place the remains of his books in the back of the car. The cave in had done a number on his room, which probably was the intention.

“Alright,” Serge said, wiping his hands. “I doubt that they need us here anymore, and I feel like some Chinese food.”

“You are probably right, let's head back to my home,” Dumbledore said with a smile. He had been look at the damaged front of the Dursleys's.

“They never deserved this,” Harry said looking at the house as well.

“I agree, but I must say, that I'm grateful that no one else was killed,” Dumbledore said with a small smile. “But you have some explaining to do. What is this about a ward?” Everyone but Serge turned to look at him.

“Well, Serge told me the spell, and I just used it,” Harry said, pointing to the older man.

“What spell?” Dumbledore asked a twinkle in his eye.

“It was....” Harry's voice trailed off as he thought. “I think `vigil invisibilis.'” He nodded, not taking in Dumbledore's look of shock, nor Hermione for that matter. “That's it.”

“How did you do that?” Hermione asked, surprised at him.

“Well, I tried it once, and it didn't work, but then Serge told me to cast it the same way I would a Patronus: gather my happiest moment and then execute the charm.”

“You used emotion to use the charm?” Lupin asked, still confused. Harry nodded, still thinking.

“That's what he told me to do, otherwise I guess the charm would not have worked,” Harry said, looking happily down at Hermione. “Thank you.” He kissed her lightly on the lips, causing her to blush.

“For what?” Hermione said, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“For helping me find something I needed to know,” Harry said. He broke the gaze and looked over at Dumbledore. “I think I found it sir.”

“Did you really?” Dumbledore said with a chuckle. “Well, let's return to the manor for the night, and we'll enjoy a quiet dinner. The order will be meeting this weekend, Harry, and you are invited, as are you Hermione.”

“What are you talking about?” Hermione asked as Dumbledore created an emergency Portkey.

“I'll tell you tonight I'm not sure exactly, but for now, I feel like I may have the edge I need,” Harry said with a smirk. “But right now, I want to take a nice long shower.” Harry kissed her lightly on the lips once more as he took hold of the Portkey. She blushed again and took hold of the Portkey, hoping her father would not tear into her boyfriend (the word still caused her to smile) when they returned to Dumbledore's.

The familiar tug to the navel, and they had returned to the manor. Harry helped steady Hermione who almost fell to the ground. He found himself greeted by Hermione's family, and the remainder of his, Hagrid. Hagrid greeted him with a bear-hug, to which to he responded with the same.

“What happened?” McGonagall asked, as Dumbledore gave her a weary smile.

“We shall discuss everything this weekend,” he said, calmly. “But for now, all I'll say is they are safe and Voldemort has claimed three more lives.” Hagrid flinched at the name. “The Dursleys are dead.” Harry knew he should feel worse, but he in one sense could not feel happier. He was not going back to them, never again would he be treated like he was. Finally maybe he could rest those demons.

“Hermione!” Her parents rushed up to hold onto her, making sure she was alright. Her mother took her into a hug, and as much as it felt good to see them again, Hermione could not help but see Harry talking solemnly to Hagrid. The gentle giant did his best as did Lupin and Tonks, but everyone knew that Harry want nothing more than to have his parents back. There was a pull at her heart as she watched Harry walk up the stairs, looking back at her slightly before continuing up the stairs.

Reassuring her parents of her safety, she told them she wanted to shower and headed up to her room. Making sure the door was closed behind her securely she headed to their bathroom, knowing Harry would not shower right away. She proceeded through the doors to Harry's room to find him on his bed, his head in his hands. As she approached to place a comforting hand on his shoulder, he flinched, and crawled away from her.

“Stay away,” he sobbed. Hermione was taken back at his action. She knew he was hurting, but thought he would collapse in her arms like he had down when she first arrived here. “Please, I just stay away.”

“Why?” Hermione asked, moving to the other side of the bed, only to Harry roll off of it and walk away from her. “Why are you pushing away from me?”

“You wouldn't understand,” Harry said, looking out of the window. There was a storm approaching, and as much as she hated them, she needed to get over her fears at the moment to help Harry get over his.

“Try me,” Hermione said, walking closer to him.

“Maybe your father was right, we-” Harry started, but was cut off.

“Don't you dare finish that sentence, Harry,” Hermione said, forcing him to turn him around. “My father was wrong, dead wrong. Whatever he said, he was wrong.”

“He's right Hermione, you are in danger because of me,” Harry said, finally looking at her. She could see the tears falling down his face as lightning bolt hit and the thunder clapped. She jumped slightly, but continued nevertheless.

“No, I'm endanger because I am a Muggle-born, a Mudblood,” Hermione spat. “To them, I'm nothing. I need you Harry. I need you to do what you do best.”

“Hmph,” Harry said, crossing his arms. “Kill the people who I love?”

“No, love me and protect me,” Hermione said. “I need you in my life Harry, and you need me just as much.”

“You're not safe with me,” Harry said, trying to win the argument. But his heart flinched every time she did, with ever bolt of lightning or clap of thunder.

“That's were you're wrong,” Hermione said, finally falling onto the floor. “I've never felt safer or more alive or more anything than with you. And….and…and it hurts Harry. It hurts when you're not by me. I feel like something is missing from me, something missing from my heart.” She wiped her tears away, barely registering them. “Please don't leave me alone.”

“Never,” Harry said, finally giving into his heart. “I'm sorry I hurt you, please forgive me. I'm so sorry.” He wrapped her in his arms as she cringed again from the storm raging outside.

“Just hold me Harry,” Hermione said, trying to pull him closer. “You're-” She was cut off by a rather loud crash and bright bolt. She whimpered slightly, and climbed into Harry's lap. “Make it go away, please?” She looked up at him, with large puppy dog eyes.

“Don't like storms angel?” Harry said, drying her tears. She had put to rest a few of his demons. He knew they would fight time to time, and probably it would be over him protecting her too much. He knew she was not going to let him leave her, but he would be damned if he could not protect her. She shook her head as he kissed her head of hair. “Why not?”

“When I was little, I was in park playing by myself in the sandbox,” Hermione said, looking up at Harry. She began to blush slightly as he stared at her. She had never told anyone about this, except her parents. They knew about it, and understood it as well. “It was cloudy to begin with, and I managed to convince my mother that I was big enough to go to the park by myself as she went shopping. The storm came so fast. I didn't really notice. I was building a castle for the brave man to rescue the princes in when it started.” Harry smiled at the thoughts in his head. He had often asked for someone to rescue him. Her voice wavered for a moment. “It came for fast Harry. I didn't know what to do. I hid underneath a tree but that was struck by lightning. I thought I was going to die.” Her tears fell freely now. She held onto him tightly as the storm seemed to increase. “Please make it go away Harry. Just make it go away.” The need in her voice was too great. He was a lightning specialist after all, why shouldn't he be able to control the storm?”

“I'll do my best Mione,” Harry whispered, kissing her forehead. Concentrating the best he could, Harry attempted to find it, the center of the storm. He knew he'd have to concentrate on that. He found it; somehow, he had found it. He could almost feel the wind, like he was riding on his Firebolt. The heat of the lightning bolts and deafening sound of the thunder crashes were easily recognized as well. “It's going to be fine, angel, everything will be fine.” He whispered again. He found it, somehow he had found it, the center and after all the reading he had done on the subject, he could easily change the weather patterns.

The book was specifically on lightning specialists and he figured that there were similar ones for water, fire and shadow. But the book spoke how some specialists could create great storms if they concentrated hard enough and put enough energy into it. He figured he could do the same, except disperse the energy quicker and deplete the storm before it grew. “Come on, come on,” he whispered to himself softly. He slowly the storm began to decrease but as it did, it required more of Harry's concentration to do so; to force the clouds apart was tiring alone, but having to force the rain to fall at a faster rate to dissipate them took even more out of him.

Hermione stopped shivering. The rain seemed to pick up outside, but the storm was ending. She let out a breath she did not even know she was holding. There was more to what had happened that day, but she never told anyone, not even her parents. It made her shudder just thinking about it. Shaking her head, she forced the memories back at the worn out smile Harry gave her.

“I did it love,” he said, before falling onto his back.

“Harry?” Hermione said, getting off his lap and going to his side. His eyes were open and he was conscious, but that did not stop her worries. He gave her another worn smile.

“Hi,” he said, panting slightly.

“Hi,” she said, laying down next to him.

“You okay? The storm's gone,” Harry said, the smile growing larger.

“Now I am,” she said. “The question is are you okay? You seem tired.”

“I am,” he gave her a small smirk. “You would be too if you stopped a storm by yourself.”

“What?” Her tears stopped as she stared at him. “You stopped it?”

“I read about it in a book,” Harry said. “Didn't think it would be this tiring.”

“Thank you,” she kissed his forehead little. “Thank you for being my brave knight.”

“Anything for my princess,” Harry said, causing her to blush. “Can we stay here for a few moments? I need to just rest a bit before dinner.” She nodded as he let out a long breath.

She lay next to him, watching him relax. He was not trying to sleep, just let his body rest for a moment before it started to work again. She did not understand how he did so, and she would have to read the book Harry was talking about, but she would find out everything she could about it, to prevent any further harm to him. Finally Harry sat up, but he still was breathing heavily.

“I need to shower, care to join me?” Harry asked, causing them both to blush. She shook her head, but kept a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Maybe later,” she kissed his cheek. She stood up and helped him pull his body off the floor. “I need to shower as well, so don't take long.”

“As you wish,” he said, kissing her hand. He walked slowly over to the bathroom, only stopping to grab a new set of clothing before entering. He gave her a smile before he entered, and only when he was safely inside did she let out the breath she was holding. As much as she wanted Harry to help her, she still could not talk about her fears, or that day without breaking down again. Picking up the nearest book, she began to read, trying to force her mind away from its previous thoughts.

Harry came out of the shower, obvious looking happier. She was glad; it brought her back to reality and back to earth. Kissing his cheek, she headed to her room, grabbing a change of clothes before showering herself. Harry was sitting on the bed when she came out, making him smile.

“You waited for me?” she asked, knowing he was hungry. He nodded and got up off of the bed.

“Ready my angel?” He asked, offering her his arm. She blushed but took it nevertheless.

Harry had thought a great deal about what had just happened. She had helped him once again, and he had to thank her once again. But she was hiding something. He knew he could not pressure her into telling him; she would eventually open up and tell him. Concentrating, he conjured another forget-me-not for her as he stopped in the hallway.

“Why are we stopping?” Hermione asked, looking at him.

“For this,” Harry said holding out the flower. “Thank you, my angel.” He slid her hair back and placed the flower right about her ear. “You're beautiful, don't you ever forget that.”

“Thank you,” she said, kissing him lightly. She knew she was blushing as she always would he did something little like this. “I'm not beautiful.” She said in a small voice. Part of her believed the statement but part of her didn't; another part just wanted to hear him say it again.

Noticing her sparkling eyes, he just smiled. “You are the most beautiful,” he kissed her forehead, “exquisite,” a kiss on her nose, “wonderful woman in the world.” He kissed her gently on the lips. She wrapped her arms around his neck and began to play with his hair as he pulled her closer, on hand on her back, the other playing with her hair.

“Thank you,” she said. “Now, I'm hungry. Let's go find some dinner.”

“Yes, angel,” Harry said, picking up her hand as they left their embrace.

Everyone was already eating when they arrived, and thankful they no one took notice of them entering. Harry led Hermione to the open seats, where they normally sat. Helping her into his seat, he could see the conversation was very light, almost as if everyone was trying hard not to talk about what happened. In one sense this helped, but in another it hurt him even more than he could describe. He needed to talk about this and he could not keep it inside like he had Sirius's death.

“Harry?” Mister Granger had chosen to break the silence. “What are your intentions for my daughter?” Harry took a deep breath looking at Hermione for a moment. She was currently glaring at her father.

“If you can't figure that out sir, then there is no reason for me to tell you,” Harry said calmly as he continued to eat. There was another moment of silence.

“Can you provide for her?” Mister Granger asked. “Can you take care of my daughter?”

“Once again, if you can't figure that out yourself, then there is no reason I should tell you,” Harry said, leaning back in his chair. “I'm very open about my relationship with Hermione. I love her, and I guess I always have.” He picked up her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. She blushed and he continued. “I know you are worried about your daughter, but Mister Granger, has there been once instance were Hermione has talked bad about me? I know in my heart there has only been one instance, but I'm going to make up for with the remainder of my life.” He kissed her hand at the thought of the memory. “I do not ask for your blessing or your happiness. All I ask of you Mister Granger is that you respect me, and you think no less of Hermione for the life with me she has chosen.” Harry squeezed Hermione's hand once more before continuing on with his dinner.

Hermione smiled widely at Harry. She had not expected him to take a conversation with her father so well. Leaning over, she kissed his cheek, causing him to blush slightly. For once she was able to get him to blush.

“Father, I have told you before, that I love Harry,” she said, causing her father to look at her. “He is the most important person in my life, and I think he always will be.” She said the last part quietly, but continued nevertheless. “I can not explain why I feel this way, nor do I really want to. But what you've asked us to do is explain to you why we love each other, and why we know at such an early age. From the day on the train ride to Hogwarts, to right now Father, I've always felt like I had someone that would understand me better than anyone in the world. I found that man, that someone, and I'm not going to let you take it away from me. I may only be fifteen, but I know where my heart belongs.”

“You sound like you're getting married. You're only fifteen years old!” Mister Granger said. Harry looked over at Hermione and smiled.

“Sir, I have already promised to place a ring on her finger. So in some sense, we are engaged to be engaged. And I am a man of my word,” Harry said, trying to keep calm. Hermione squeezed his hand once more.

“Father, you have to calm down,” Hermione said quietly. “As much as you hate the idea of me wedding someone, you have no say in this.”

“I have every right as your father on who your marrying or not,” Mister Granger said, but before Hermione could respond her mother did.

“No you do not Charles,” Mrs. Granger said. “And neither do I. If we say no, Hermione will undoubtedly severe all ties to us.” She looked at Hermione who only nodded. “As much as it pains you, and me, we came to realize when she first left that she probably was going to marry a wizard. And we've known that wizard for the last five years, Charles.” She looked over at Harry this time and smiled. “When she first returned home from Hogwarts, you were the only thing she could talk about dear.” Hermione began to blush deeply at her mother's comment.

“Mom,” Hermione said apprehensively, attempting to keep the blush down. She knew what was coming up as well.

“Well its true,” Mrs. Granger said with a light laugh. “In fact, I remember a certain someone saying she had met the man she was going to marry when she came home.” Hermione's blush deepened. “It took us until her second year when we met the Weasleys to even know anything about her other friend. Even then she only mentioned him in a passing sense. But you Harry, have been the constant center of her every thought at home for the last five years. She nearly had a conniption her third year when we were in France. She had said she had found the perfect gift for you, but had no way of getting it to you.” Harry leaned over and kissed the cheek of the girl who was holding his right hand rather tightly.

“Thank you love,” he said, causing her blush to deepen. “Mister Granger, I have even ounce of respect for you. I also will do everything in my power to make your daughter happy. Because when she is happy, I am happy. As has said it before, nothing will stop her from being with me, and I will do every thing in my power to ensure that this comes true.”

Mister Granger shook his head. “Not if it means your death.” Harry looked at him in shock.” I mean it; if you die, then my daughter isn't happy is she, so therefore, you failed. In other words, you can't die, or I will hurt you in the afterlife.” He shook his head once more. “I may not like, but I have to agree, you make our daughter happy.”

“Thank you sir,” Harry said. “If you don't mind, I'd like to continue to eat?” He pointed at the plate in front of him. Keeping his right hand in Hermione's he began to eat again, hoping that there was no more interruptions.

“Since when did you become left handed, Harry?” Lupin asked with a smirk. Harry looked up at the man before turning back to him meal. Hermione smiled at Harry before answering for him.

“We would like to enjoy our dinner, please no more questions,” Hermione said, not giving room for interpretations. She squeezed Harry's hand who gave her a smile. Harry felt a dog resting at his feet. Looking down, he could see Grace's pup happily sleeping over his feet.

“His name is Goliath,” Grace said at Harry's questioning look. He nodded, not really knowing how to respond. Dumbledore looked over at Serge who had remained quiet until this point.

“Don't worry Grandpa, the collar is charmed to clean up any mess he makes,” Serge said with a laugh. “But then again, he is a very intelligent animal.”

“Not intelligent as a cat,” Hermione said.

“Depends on the cat,” Serge said with a shrug. “All I know is this animal here is not two months old and is already house trained.”

“Cats are still far more intelligent,” McGonagall said.

“Listen, I'm going to get into a fight over which pet is smarter,” Serge said with a smirk. “All I'm saying is Goliath is house trained as well as very docile ninety percent of the time.”

“What about the other ten percent?” McGonagall asked, only to get Serge's grin to widen.

“The other ten percent is when someone tries to hurt Grace or anyone she cares about,” Serge said going back to his dinner.

“A guard dog, Serge?” Dumbledore asked with mock-surprise. Serge nodded, not bothering to give a verbal reply.

“A good idea I'd suppose,” Harry said, looking at the dog again. “Dogs are supposed to be among the loyalist creatures on the planet.”

“That they are, that they are,” Hagrid said.

The rest of the dinner was spent discussing animals. Harry found it quite relaxing after everything that had happened during the day. He had hopes that maybe he could get to bed early and sleep in late. He never got his hopes up for too long though.

“Harry, as it is your birthday,” Dumbledore said standing up from his chair. Everyone had finally finished their dinners.

“Oh dear God,” Harry said, hiding his flushing face in his hands. Hermione just smiled and began to rub his back. She wanted this to be done. She had asked Dumbledore for a small party to be held for him. He always had mentioned he never had one.

“As it is your birthday, Harry,” Dumbledore repeated, “I believe we must uphold tradition.” Harry shook his head, trying to hide his flushed face, let alone the tears of happiness. He had never received a birthday party with a family. Now he was, and he could not explain the emotions at the moment, but with Hermione's hand found his.

“Thank you,” he mouthed silently. Seeing the tears in his eyes, Hermione forced him to sit up, crushing him in a hug not a moment after. Pulling her into his lap, Harry noticed a rather large cake coming into the room. He had a family now, and with a light kiss to Hermione's forehead, he sealed a promise he made to himself a long time ago. No one was going to hurt his family ever again, and if they did, neither revenge nor retribution could come swift enough.

Document created with wvWare/wvWare version 1.0.0

-->

A/N: I want to state this now; Ron will be included in the upcoming chapters. There is now a Sextet: Harry, Hermione, Ron, Luna, Ginny and Neville. They will play an important part in my story, just you wait and see. Just give Ron some time to stew in his own emotions. He'll come around, you'll see. This chapter in fact.

I apologize for not posting sooner. My internet had been down close to a month, and the last time I tried to post was at the library and that just didn't work. This chapter is done, the next two are done. It just is a matter of when I get the time to post them. The site has been a pain too, and won't let me post all of the chapter.

Chapter Twelve:

Slipping Back into the Normal

Courage is resistance to fear, mastery of fear - not absence of fear. Mark Twain

Departure to Hogwarts came faster than Harry ever expected. Summer had come and gone. The Order meeting they were supposed to have had, had been moved to the third Saturday in September, right after Hermione's birthday. Dumbledore had been told everything he needed to know, and in kind, Harry was given the same respect. Harry did however keep his thoughts to the power he knows not to himself. He still was unsure, but knew that deep down he had found it. His training had progressed further than Harry had really anticipated. He was able to control the lightning easily now, expending small bolts of it from his hands or eyes if he wanted to. He could also cast just about any spell through his katana as he could with his wand. His wandless, while still tiring, progressed to the degree that he could cast just about any fourth year, possible fifth year, equivalent spell as easily as he did with his wand.

Hermione's icy skills grew as well. She could use her powers just as well as Harry could, although her healing techniques were far more impressive, in his mind. She had progressed much further as a healer than she had originally anticipated. She also was a great masseuse using her healing powers, after the training he received from Serge, Lupin, Dumbledore, and Guile, who came occasionally, Harry was often bruised and battered, but not worse for the wear. Hermione would then give a comforting massage, on that helped him release all of the tension and relieve his aching muscles. He kept saying he was going to have to repay her at one point, but never seemed to get around to it.

They received their owls a few days after August first. Harry received a total of seven, not getting on in History of Magic or Divination. Hermione of course received a total of twelve, the most possible for her to get without taking Divination as well. Harry did receive his O in Potions, but the more he thought about it, the more he hated the idea of working as an Auror. From Tonks's schedule, it seemed like she was always on the go and barely at home. He was good at Defense, and teaching did have a certain joy to it. He began to think to himself about asking the Professor for the job following his graduation. It would be a good cover for his training, and he could help prepare the students for their future.

He had not heard much about Ron. The Weasleys did not come by after the episode with Ron, nor did he receive Ron's birthday gift. There were not many Order meetings, and he never was invited to the ones that were there. The Grangers had finally relented and let Hermione stay in Harry's room, thankfully. She kept the nightmares away, and he really did not know how he slept without her. The sense of home and security filled his body when he knew she was close by. He knew he'd have to make it permanent some how. He would, once it was the moment, once they were ready. For now, he would have to find some way to get him into her room, or her in his.

“Hope Ron's okay with us,” Harry said, looking up at the ceiling of their room. Hermione lay next to him, staring up at the ceiling. Their trunks were packed with all of their new books. Hermione had fixed the mirror that Sirius had given Harry and they had found the other one in a box of things that were taken from Grimmauld before Riddle took it. She had one and he had the other. She seemed ecstatic when he gave it to her, instead of Ron. He simply told her he was giving it to his best friend beforehand, and when she received it, tears fell. She had never felt happier when she had gotten the mirror. She was his best friend; before she only thought of herself as his friend, now…

“Me too,” Hermione said as she curled up next to him. “But if he doesn't accept us, then that's his problem.” She smiled to herself. She still felt tingly at the idea of being his best friend.

“Mione, you're right, but he still is our friend, my first friend, and I need his support this year,” he kissed her forehead lightly. They had fallen into a comfortable silence. With the summer training, they now were light-years ahead of everyone else in their studies. For Hermione that may not have seemed like a big deal, but to Harry, he was closer to being at the level he thought he needed to be to defeat Riddle. Now he just needed the rest of the Wizarding World prepared. A war was brewing, a war that he was not sure they could win.

“He'll come around, Harry, but you have to continue to strive higher,” Hermione said, a hand reaching up and playing with his hair. He nodded, staring off into the ceiling. “You've come far.”

“So have you,” Harry said, finally looking at her. “I hear Madame Pomfrey raving about you to Dumbledore when I meet with him.” He could see the blush forming on her cheeks as he continued. “You really want to become a Healer?” She nodded, sighing into his chest. “Well, I think I could use a Healer by my side. Taking care of all my scraps and cuts and such. Besides, I could use a massage every now and then.”

“Well, all the more reason for me to become one,” Hermione held him tighter. Her greatest fear was she was going to have to live without him. That was the reason she became a Healer, to make sure that he would never leave her side. She would be on the battlefield, helping him in every way possible.

“Harry, Hermione, better be ready,” Lupin yelled up the stairs. Harry sat up, groaning slightly. He really did not want to leave the Headmaster's house. The door opened and Tonks and Lupin stepped in.

“Everything packed?” Tonks asked, coming in after Lupin. Hermione nodded as she got off the bed. “Well before we go down stairs, we want to ask you some questions. Don't worry, they're nothing bad or anything.”

“What are they?” Harry said.

“Harry, I want you to be the best man at the wedding,” Lupin said, picking up Tonks' hand. Harry nodded, accepting Lupin's free hand. A large smile appeared on the older man's face, as an apprehensive one appeared on Tonks's.

“And Hermione, I want you to be my maid of honor,” Tonks asked hopefully. Harry looked over to see tears beginning to well up in both of the ladies' eyes. She nodded, and the two women shared an emotionally hug. He smiled at them and shared a look with Lupin. Both had to smile at the women who normally would not be caught dead acting this “girly.” After a few moments, the two women disengaged and went back to their men.

“Well, thank you, both of you,” Lupin said with a smile as Tonks clung to his arm. “There will be a private ceremony, just us, with Dumbledore marrying us. It'll be some time in December.”

“I always wanted a winter wedding,” Tonks flushed.

“I wanted a spring one,” Hermione adding in her two cents in.

“You'll get it,” Harry said, wrapping his arms around her.

“I'll get what?” Hermione said, surprised at Harry's statement.

“You will get your fairy tale wedding,” Harry said, kissing her forehead.

“Come on, Harry, you're making me look bad,” Lupin said jokingly.

“Don't worry, all I want is a small ceremony,” Tonks said kissing Lupin passionately.

“Minors, we have minors here,” Harry said, mockingly shielding his eyes as Hermione covered her mouth, trying to suppress a giggle.

“Get over it,” Tonks said as she pulled back. “If you're going to live with us, then you'll have to get used to it.”

“I'm going to live with you?” Harry asked. A small shock of joy ran through his system at the thought of living in a loving home before he solidified his with Hermione.

“There you go Nymphadora,” Lupin said, laughing. “You ruined the surprise.” Tonks blushed as he kissed her cheek. Turning back to Harry, Lupin just smiled. “I bought a small unplottable cottage out near Godric's Hollow. It's not much; three bedroom, three bathrooms, a living room, kitchen, cellar and such, but I thought it would be a good place for a newly wed couple to live, and for my godson to live as well.”

“For the time being perhaps, but I think we'll be neighbors eventually though,” Harry said, a large smile coming across his face. He looked over at Hermione, whose face was covered in a deep blush.

“As long as there is not a small army of children ruining our lawn, that won't be a problem,” Tonks said, causing Hermione to blush even more. “Well, we better get a move on. Don't want to be late, now do we?” Lupin levitated their trunks, allowing Harry to take hold of them and Hermione walked by his side. “We're Portkeying to the King's Cross, then will apparate out after you two are on the train.” Harry nodded as the two adults led them down the stairs.

“Everything set?” Dumbledore said, looking at them both. They nodded as Dumbledore's smile widened. “Good, but before we leave, there is something I wish to talk to you about, Harry.”

“What is that sir?” Harry asked. His mind began to run over everything that could possible go wrong.

“Although we have a DADA teacher this year, his methods of teaching along with the subjects are rather iffy for the sixth and seventh years.” There was a pause before Dumbledore continued. “I am asking you to continue on the DA club with Hermione,” Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eye. Hermione nearly squealed as she realized what it meant. The professor wanted them to teach the students, to help prepare the students for the upcoming war.

“We accept,” Hermione said before Harry could get a word in.

“I'm glad to hear,” Dumbledore said, maintaining the smile. “I will ask for a list of those in the club as well as a lesson plan.” Hermione nodded enthusiastically. “Good, good, good. Now off with you or you will miss your train.”

“Thank you sir, you won't regret this,” Hermione said, holding onto Harry's arm rather tightly. He still was trying to comprehend the fact that Dumbledore had asked them to teach. “This is amazing Harry.”

“Hermione,” Harry said in a soft tone as they met up with Lupin and Tonks.

“I mean we'll probably have access to a great deal more spells and hexes and curses,” Hermione rambled on.

“Hermione, before you explode, let me ask you a question.” Hermione stopped talking as Harry stared at her. “Did you ask me what I thought on the situation?” She looked crestfallen at it.

“I'm sorry, Harry, I just thought that-” Harry cut her off with a smile and kissed on the cheek.

“You thought for both of us, but from now only let's discuss something before you go blindly into it,” Harry said with a knowing smile. “I've done that too often and you know how those situations end up.”

“I'm sorry, Harry, I was so excited and I thought you would be too, I didn't think anything bad could come of it,” Hermione said, tears falling down her face. She really did not think that anything bad or wrong could happen.

“I know Mione, I know. That is why I did the thinking for us this once,” Harry chuckled as he wiped away a few of her tears. “And I agree with you wholeheartedly. But the point I'm trying to make is that we can't rush into anything, because when we rush we do not see everything there is to be known. Now, what plans you got so far?” Hermione began to blush as they finally caught up with Lupin and Tonks. Her parents were waiting there, talking with the two.

“I'll miss you,” Hermione's mother said as she wrapped her daughter in a hug. She did the same to Julie as well. It came as no surprise that she was accepted as well to Hogwarts. Grace had gotten hers as well and the two girls were eagerly talking about what was going to happen to them.

“You take care of my daughter you hear me?” Mister Granger asked Harry. After a few days of talking, Mister Granger had finally relented on his previous stance.

“I couldn't do anything else sir,” Harry said, squeezing Hermione's hand as she slipped it back into his. He was surprised by Mrs. Granger, who took him into a hug as well.

“You take care now,” Mrs. Granger said as she pulled back. “You keep him safe now.” She said with a smile to Hermione.

“She always does,” Harry said.

“Can we get going please?” Serge asked, walking in a fine suit. He was going with them, as were the Grangers to see off Julie and Hermione.

“Everyone ready?” Dumbledore said, appearing with a long piece of string. After hearing no objections, he handed one end to Serge and the other to Lupin. “Everyone grasp hold of the string, and you'll find yourself in a secure area of King's Cross.”

“Don't worry, it won't be so bad,” Harry said with an encouraging smile as he took hold of the string. Hermione took hold of it as well, almost covering Harry's hand with hers. Tonks got awfully close to Lupin as she took hold. The Grangers cautiously took the string in their hands, as did Grace. Within of everyone taking a hold, the Portkey activated and with a tug to the midsection, they landed awkwardly in King's Cross. True to his word, they were not seen by anyone goers.

“Well, let's get moving,” Lupin said as everyone straightened themselves. Harry quickly got a few trolleys for them, and placed both his and Hermione's trunks on one as he Serge put Grace's and Julie's on separate one's another. Making their way through the platforms, they finally got to the third pillar between nine and ten. No really talked or said much. It was one of those comfortable silences, and these were the ones that Harry hated the most. Either something horrendous or sad was going to happen at the end of it. In one sense, he was right. There was a sad moment coming up.

“You first Julie,” Hermione said once they had reached the pillar.

“What do I do?” She asked, looking around.

“Best if you get a running start and go straight through; here, let me show you,” Harry said, still holding onto their trolley. Running forward, he passed through the barrier and onto Platform 9 Three-Quarters. Moving out of the way, he noticed that they still had a reasonable amount of time before the train left. Julie ran through the passage way as well, walking in awe over to Harry. Grace came soon after, followed by Hermione and the rest of the group. As everyone was saying their final goodbyes, Serge motioned for Harry to come over.

“I want you to look out for Grace this year for me,” he said with a sad smile. “I know she is going to be a Gryffindor, as is Hermione's sister. I can see it in their eyes, and I want you to look out for them.”

“I will,” Harry said without hesitating. He had already promised to look out for Julie. Both her and Grace had fast become friends and he figured he would be looking out for both of them anyway.

“I'll be checking in from time to time, but I just wanted to let you know how much this means to me,” Serge said.

“Hermione or I will always be looking out for them,” Harry said, smiling to himself. He knew that there were only little things kept between the two of them, and the safety of others was not one of those little things.

“I always want you to have these,” Serge said, holding a small leather bag. If he did not know better, Harry could have sworn there were marbles in there. “I understand that you know how to use the summons correct?” Harry nodded as he carefully took the bag. Truthfully he barely remembered the advice both Sirius and his father had given him. “Well, let me give you some advice. You can only summon someone once a week. Hermione's summons are in the bag as well.”

“Thank you,” Harry said, taking the bag and sliding it carefully into his pocket.

“No, thank you again,” Serge said ending their conversation as Grace came back to her father for one final goodbye. Smiling to himself, Harry turned and began to roll his and Hermione's trunk to be put onto the train. He stopped as Lupin and Tonks came over.

“Stay safe Harry,” Lupin said, giving Harry a manly hug. Tonks had tears in her eyes as she pulled him into a hug.

“You take care, and don't forget to write,” Tonks said as she pulled back. Harry smiled at the thought of how motherly that sounded.

“I won't,” he said, as he let go. “And you two; please take care. I don't want to lose another three members of my family.” Harry watched as Lupin wrapped his arms around Tonks and placed his hands over her stomach.

“We're in good hands, Harry,” Tonks said, wiping back one of her tears.

“Keep it that way,” Harry said as he climbed aboard the train. Hermione and everyone else were already in, now he just had to find them. Several of the other students had begun to board already, peeking out on of the windows, he saw the Weasleys saying their goodbyes. Sighing, he made his way to find Hermione alone, reading from one of her books she brought with her.

“Where are Grace and Julie?” He asked as he entered.

“I told them to find their own compartment, that way they make their own friends,” Hermione said as she moved her feet off the seat. If she was going to be honest with herself, it was because she wanted some alone time with Harry before everyone else came. “Now, come here.” She marked her book and closed it. Harry smiled at her and closed the door behind him.

“What do you want angel?” He asked, moving so he was just about leaning over her. “A flower?” His hand went behind his back to bring out a forget-me-not. She giggled as he placed in her hair.

“No,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I want something else.”

“What angel?” He asked, leaning in closer.

“A kiss,” she said, capturing his lips with her own. A sense of warmth filled her body and her lips massaged his. Opening her eyes slightly, a smile grew on her lips at the glee in his eyes as he deepened the kiss. Moving his arms from above her head, Hermione found herself being lifted off the seat as she desperately tried to pull him closer. She began to play with his hair, feeling his hands rubbing emotionally along her back. A shock ran through her system, causing her to jump slightly, as he slid his had underneath her blouse.

“You animal,” she giggled as they broke for air.

“Well then” Harry said, moving his kisses down her jawbone and down her neck. “Let's mark my territory then.” He had always wanted to do this, and had never gotten really the nerve up to do it until this point. Being this close to her was intoxicating. Her scent, her wonderful mix of vanilla and strawberries, overpowered him and his senses as he continued his job of `marking his territory.'

Hermione jumped in his arms slightly again. He had never done this to her before, and if he kept doing it, she may not be able to coherently speak for a while. She let out a soft moan as he continued to suck and nibble alternatively.

“If you stop,” she said, moaning softly again, “I may just have to hurt you.” After another few moments, Harry's face came back into view and he wore a rather large smile. “You done?” She asked, pouting slightly.

“For now,” his smile grew as his eyes moved down her neck. Fishing for the mirror Harry had given her out of her pocket Hermione let out a gasp and placed her hand over her mouth, attempting to hold back a giggle. Harry, her boyfriend, the best boyfriend in the world, had given her a rather large hickey. She let out a sigh as she pulled him close. “You're mine.”

“No, you're mine,” she said, taking his lips in hers once more.

“Yes, angel,” Harry said, as he gave her another chaste kiss.

“Ron's on his way,” Ginny said, causing them both to fall off the seat. She began to giggle as they disentangled. “You two having fun?”

“You have now idea,” Harry said under his breath. He got up off the floor, and helped Hermione stand as well. She kissed his cheek, just as Ron came by. She quickly moved her blouse to cover the hickey.

“I'd like to speak to you two alone please,” Ron said. There was no emotion in his voice, making it difficult for Harry to know if he had seen the kiss.

“Well you three better make up,” Ginny said, leaving them. Ron closed the compartment door behind him and took a seat opposite of them.

“I really don't know where to begin,” Ron said. Harry could tell his friend's eyes were glued to his and Hermione's joined hands. He let out a sigh, and ran a hand through his hair. “This is very difficult for me. I always thought that I was supposed to be with Hermione.”

Harry felt Hermione tighten her grip on his hand. “Ron, I really don't think you're the one who decides who is with.”

“Well, from all the signs she gave me, I thought she like me too,” Ron said, looking at Hermione this time. She was taken back by this.

“When have I ever led you on?” Hermione asked, completely surprised at Ron's accusation.

“You kissed me on the cheek before one of our Quidditch games,” Ron said, shrugging his shoulders. “You grabbed my hand in third year.”

“Because I was scared that something would happen to Harry,” Hermione said, holding his hand tighter at the memory. “And the kiss was a simple friendly one. I meant to give Harry one as well, but he pulled you out of there before I had a chance to. I gave one to Harry after we left our fourth year.” Harry blushed at the thought, causing her to smile. “That one had more to it, but with the summer and then the year, I guess you didn't figure that out.”

“No, I'm sorry,” Harry began to apologize, but she shook her head.

“Doesn't matter, you had a rough year,” she said with a smile. “And you Ron, you've always known how much I obsess about Harry. You told me that to my face last summer when we were waiting for him in Grimmauld Place.” She blushed at her own admission. “Ron, you've always been like a brother to me.”

“I know, but I honestly thought we all could be one big happy family,” Ron said, looking down at the floor.

“We are,” Harry said, confused. He had always considered the Weasleys's apart of his family.

“No I mean I'd marry Hermione, you'd marry Ginny, and we'd all be Weasleys,” Ron said, sheepishly. “I guess dating Hermione would be my way of staying apart of the Trio.”

“Ron, you've always been an important part of our lives,” Harry said, still confused.

“Name one thing I add to the groups,” Ron said, leaning back and crossing his arms.

“Strategy,” Hermione said without waiting. “You are a very good strategist, Ron; you've always been that way. Honestly you can come up with a plan for just about anything. You see everything when anyone else would just get boggled down with the small figures; you see the big picture Ron. You also help keep Harry and I up on the ground when either of us gets into our own zones.”

“And Ron, we already told you, there is no Trio anymore,” Harry said, cautiously. “There are my friends. My closest, you and Hermione. Then Ginny, Luna and Neville. The people who stood beside me at the end of last year. You all are my friends, and I will do everything in my power to protect you all.” Ron nodded slowly, thinking for a moment.

“I'm sorry for how I acted over the summer,” Ron said. “You're right; You-Know-Who probably all has us on his lists now. Guess the summer training will pay off.”

“How did that go?” Harry asked, thankful for an opening to a new topic. “For you I mean?”

“Moody wasn't so bad, just tiresome, I mean he'd work me for hours at a time, never giving me a break, and I'd never make any progress,” Ron said. He smiled lightly at a memory, and rubbed his shoulder, where Harry could only guess was a bruise.

“Some days I'd feel like that as well,” Harry said with a smirk. “Serge worked me to the bone on some days.” They exchanged a nervous chuckle.

“Are you okay with us Ron?” Hermione asked after a few moments of silence.

“Honestly Hermione, I think I am,” Ron said giving them a smirk. “I mean, I think it was best that my Mum insisted we come home after the night we talked last. It helped me sort out all of my thoughts and feelings. I guess it's still a shock, but otherwise I'm very happy. Harry, you deserve some happiness.”

“Thanks mate,” Harry said. “You'll find someone.”

“I know, but seeing you two together so soon, and so young, makes me feel like I may never find someone,” Ron said leaning back in his seat once more. There was a knock on the compartment door, and Ginny stuck her head in.

“Is everything settled? No more fighting?” Ginny asked.

“We're done,” Harry said, looking over at Ron who nodded.

“Good, everything is back to normal,” Ginny said, walking in with Luna right behind her. “Mind if we sit here, until the prefect meeting?” Ginny sat next to Ron and Luna next to Harry.

“You're both prefects?” Harry asked, slightly surprised. They nodded as Harry took notice of their badges. “Congrats.”

“Will you be okay?” Hermione asked, coming to the same conclusion he had. He would be left alone in the compartment, with his thoughts. A bad combination in her mind.

“Neville will probably come along,” Harry said, and almost on cue, Neville walked in. “See. Hey Neville.”

“Hi,” Neville said awkwardly. “Mind if I come in?”

“Not at all,” Hermione said with a smile. Harry put his arm around Hermione at the smile Neville gave her. She was his, and he was hers. If he had to take out an ad to tell the world that, then he would. Hermione kissed his cheek and leaned into him. A sense of comfort came over when he put his arm around her shoulder.

“Are you two going out?” Neville asked as he sat next to Ginny. Harry nodded, staying solemn.

“Don't try anything Neville, Harry is very possessive,” Ron said loud enough for them all to hear. “He nearly beat the daylight out of me for asking her out.” Ron laughed at this as did Hermione. Harry just nodded, smiling slightly. He was watching Neville who all of a sudden had gotten very uncomfortable in his seat.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything by it, I was just saying hello,” Neville rambled off. Harry's smile grew, causing everyone else to laugh.

“Relax Neville, Harry won't do anything to out,” Hermione said, picking up his other hand. “I've got him on a tight lease.” Harry just shrugged his shoulders at the laughter. Ron made a whipping noise, causing the others to laugh.

“I really don't care as long as I get to kiss her senseless,” he said with a smirk causing her to blush.

“You're making me sick,” Ron said, faking a gagging motion.

“Get over it Ron,” Ginny said, laughing at him. Ron remained somber for a moment before shrugging his shoulders. “So, are you two going to be snogging in the middle of the common room?”

“Ginny!” Hermione squealed at her, failing to hold back a blush.

“Where we snog is not of your business,” Harry said, putting his arm around her. “Hey Neville how was your summer?”

“Fine,” Neville said. “My Gran got me a new wand.” Harry spaced out for a moment, feeling something was trying to dig its way through his mind.

“Hello Potter,” a voice said. Riddle was attempting to get at him again.

“Bye asshole,” Harry said back to it, knowing who it was. Sending the memory of his kiss moments before with Hermione through the link, he heard the screams and shiverings of pain as Riddle trembled.

“So that's about it,” Neville said, putting away his wand. Hermione nodded, finding that she was slightly bored. That was until Harry shook his head, resumed smiling, and turned toward Luna.

“How was your summer?” Harry asked. Hermione felt a pang of jealous only to have him render it useless with a short squeeze of her hand. He looked over at with a smile, one that said he would share with her later. She nodded and leaned forward to look at Luna as well as she began to talk about another magical animal Hermione was not sure existed. She explained how she and her father went on a trip to South America, searching for the creature, the name she missed. And through it all, Hermione could tell of some sense of truth to her words, recognizing facts behind some of her ideas, but it still confused and annoyed her more when she talked as if there was actually proof behind her theories. That was the real reason she did not really like the girl, but for Harry, she'd tolerate her.

“We better get going,” Ron said, looking at his watch. Harry nodded as they all stood up to leave, including Neville.

“Tell them that Hermione will be there shortly,” Harry said. “There is something I need to tell her.”

“We still have a few minutes and this shouldn't take long” she agreed. As everyone left, Hermione took a seat again, next to Harry. “What is it, love?”

“I know you were jealous when I looked at Luna,” Harry said with a smirk. “But I also want you to know that she is my friend, and only my friend. She has always had her belongings taken from her every year, by students in other houses and her own. Nothing major, but it still shouldn't happen. I'm going to do my best to get her to tell me if anything does go missing. I know you two don't agree on a lot of things, but have you ever given her a real chance, Mione? I'm not saying that all of what she says is true, just there is some fact behind it, and you know that. Every legend has some factual basis.”

“I know,” Hermione said, crossing her arms. “I know there is some fact behind what she says. She obviously is very intelligent, Harry. But if I didn't know you better I would be jealous. I am still not confident with myself Harry, and deep down I do think you may leave me. I know you never will, but I didn't have a picturesque childhood either. Yes, I had a loving family, but I did not have many friends. You and Ron were my first friends, Harry. And I've always been scared that one day, you'll leave me.”

“I'll never,” he kissed her lightly on her nose, “ever,” on her chin, “ever leave you my angel.” He lifted her chin to look at him, seeing the beginnings of tears. Kissing her deeply, he felt her melt slightly in his arms. Keeping her up, he finally pulled back, seeing the tears still in her eyes, but happiness behind them. “I love you, now,” he turned her to face the door, “get going.” He swatted her bottom lightly, causing her to jump. “Get going, or you will be late.” He pointed out the door, her glaring at him.

“I'll get you,” Hermione said, attempting to be mad. He just smiled at her and forced her out the door. She could not explain it, but she liked it when he did that, something only he could do, and not all the time, but if it was as playful as that was, she certainly did not mind.

Taking a book out, Harry slowly began to read. He knew if he did in front of Ron, he'd get the third degree, but he only had a few more chapters, and then he could start asking for training in enchantments. He still wanted to create a pendant for Hermione, one to protect her. The book was the most complicated thing he had ever read, and he had already gone through it once.

“You channel Hermione now, Harry?” Ron asked as he came back into the room.

“There is nothing wrong with reading a good book, Ronald,” Luna said, walking into the compartment after him. She took the same seat next to Harry as Hermione sat on his other side.

“I agree,” Hermione said, linking her arms with Harry. “But the only bad book I can think of is any on Divination.”

“The only study were you can guess and still have an equal chance of being right as you do wrong,” Luna shook her head. Hermione had a surprised look on her face.

“Harry, switch seats with me,” Hermione said standing up. He obliged and moved over, allowing Hermione and Luna to start discussing the faults with Divination and their similar hatred for the class. Harry smirked as he continued to read. Ron finally got frustrated enough with the silence that he left, saying he was going to talk with Seamus and Dean about the upcoming Quidditch season. Ginny never returned, same with Neville.

By the time the candy cart came around, Hermione and Luna were in the deep thralls of an Arithmancy discussion He bought them a great deal of candy, and eventually Ginny returned, causing the three girls to talk about boys. Harry had to smirk as they did; he never saw Hermione as one to gossip, and she did, but the girls were mainly interested with what happened between the two of them of them over the summer. He slowly caught on how clever the girls in the room were, as they all began to help Ginny go on a date with a boy from Ravenclaw, Harry did not know the kid, but really didn't care. If Ginny wanted to date a guy, let her as long as he did not hurt her.

“Thank you for the conversation, Hermione,” Luna said, rising from her seat as Ron came back in.

“Where are you going?” Hermione asked, surprised at the reaction of her.

“You four probably want to talk about something private,” Luna said with a sad look in her eyes.

“You don't have to leave,” Harry said, surprised as well. “There are some things that I need to tell, but I've got to tell them to all of my friends.”

“Well then I'll be going,” Luna said, dropping her head. Harry grabbed her arm, keeping a light grip on it.

“Luna, you didn't hear me,” Harry said, though she didn't look at them.

“I heard you, you said that you had to tell your friends,” Luna said. Hermione vaguely heard a sniff, as she saw the young Ravenclaw wipe her eyes.

“Then why aren't you sitting?” Harry asked, causing her to look at him in shock. “You are my friend Luna, and you have just as much right to hear what I'm about to say as Ginny does. So please take your seat.” Luna smiled at him, and Harry could not help but smile back. He soon found himself surrounded in a hug. He returned it, looking over at Hermione who simply smiled at him.

Hermione felt a small joy rise in her heart. Harry had once again helped an outcast feel accepted, apart of a group. She knew there was nothing to worry about between him and Luna, nothing she had to worry about. She knew that there was something that would grow, but it was nothing that would threat their relationship. Harry loved her too much, and it was that pleading look filled love that told her he did not want her to be angry with him.

“I've never had too many friends beyond Ginny,” Luna said, pulling back from the hug. “Thank you, you have no idea how much this means to me.”

“I think I do,” Hermione said. She shared a look with Luna, to have her nod.

“What are you all talking about?” Ron asked a confused look upon his face.

“Ron, just realize that there is more to life than Quidditch,” Harry said, disengaging from Luna. They both returned to their seats “Now, what I'm about to say, does not leave this room, understand?” Everyone nodded. “The only other person that is allowed to know is Neville and only if he asks about it, do not go telling him anything.” He waited for a moment, before taking his wand out. Performing a quick silencing charm, he rested against his seat. “Mione, explain everything up to a certain point please?” Harry pleaded. It still was a sour subject for him to deal with and Hermione was the only one who knew everything just about as well as he did.

“Up until the Prophecy, then I'll continue after,” Hermione said. Harry nodded as he closed his eyes, trying to block out the upcoming images. She slowly began to explain everything that happened before Harry went to Dumbledore's home, before she knew what the prophecy was all about. Harry kept trying to fight off the image of Sirius falling, his face a combination of shock and laughter, into the long black veil. “Harry, love, it's time to tell them.” He nodded, sitting up again.

“The Prophecy that broke was about me,” Harry said, keeping his eyes closed. “I met with the person who witnessed the prophecy and was told what it was.” He shook his head, trying to keep the memories of the night after the attack upon the Ministry of Magic. The night when Dumbledore told him about the Prophecy. “THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD APPROACHES….BORN TO THOSE WHO HAVE THRICE DEFIED HIM, BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES…AND THE DARK LORD WILL MARK HIM AS HIS EQUAL, BUT HE WILL HAVE THE POWER THE DARK LORD KNOWS NOT… AND EITHER MUST DIE AT THE HAND OF THE OTHER FOR NEITH CAN LIVE WHILE THE OTHER SURVIVES….THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD WILL BE BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES….” He paused, trying to keep back his own tears as he bay. He let everyone come to their own conclusions as they waited. “If you haven't guessed, I'll tell you now. I am destined to fight Riddle, and die or kill him. That is how the final battle will end.”

“No, it can't be, no,” Ginny said, shaking her head. Ron put an arm around her and pulled her into a hug. Harry could see the tears coming down both of their eyes. Putting an arm around both Hermione and Luna, he brought them close, feeling their tears falling against his shirt.

Hermione looked up at him, with a smile. She was beginning to recognize the type of care Harry had for Luna, much like Ron had for Ginny. Although Harry did not know it, she did, and maybe Luna did, but all that mattered was that Harry would protect Luna just about as vehemently as Ron did for Ginny, as she did for Julie. He now had his family.

It was a little later when Luna had finally calmed down that she pulled out of Harry's chest, a smile on her face. “Sorry,” she said.

“Don't be, Luna,” Harry said as Hermione gave another smile to Luna.

“Just don't expect to be in that position a great deal,” Hermione said, wrapping her arms around Harry and holding onto his tightly.

“I have a question,” Luna said, laughing lightly at Hermione's statement. “Will we be trained?” Harry nodded.

“DA will continue this year, as well as next year,” Harry said. “I will be speaking with Dumbledore about it after that. I want the students to be as prepared as possible for the upcoming war.”

“So you're running it again?” Ron asked. Harry nodded, but pointed to Hermione.

“She'll be in helping me a great deal as well,” Harry said, causing Hermione to blush and turn into his chest. “Comfy?” She nodded as he vaguely heard a sigh.

“You two really do make a great couple,” Luna said, a dreamy look returning to her face.

“Thank you,” Harry said as the train began to slow down. “Well, it looks like we better get going.”

“You haven't changed into your uniform yet,” Ron said confused as Hermione stood up, helping Harry off the seat.

“Well, lets fix that,” Harry said. He smirked as he raised his hand, placing it at the top of his shirt. He found the spell to transfigure clothing, he learned it while studying with Hermione, and brought his hand down the front of his shirt, letting his magic flow outward.

Hermione watched Harry use his magic before, but never without words. Before her eyes, his clothes began to change into the Hogwarts uniform much like the one Ron was wearing. The only difference really was Ron's prefect pin. She also saw him stumble slightly.

“What a rush,” Harry said, bringing his hand up to his head as the room began to spin.

“How did you do that?” Ron asked as Hermione caught Harry's arm. He straightened up and smiled at them, with a twinkle in his eyes.

“Magic,” Harry said, truthfully. Hermione put a hand over her mouth, trying to hide some of her giggles. He looked way too much like Dumbledore at that moment.

“No seriously how did you do that?” Ron asked again as Harry opened the door, holding it for them. The train had stopped now, and he could see Grace and Julie talking with a boy with black hair. He smiled; they certainly were safe at the moment.

“Magic,” Harry said again. “Right this way, ladies.” He motioned for Ginny, Luna and Hermione to leave. And promptly all three of them blushed.

“Such a gentlemen,” Ginny said, patting his head as she went by. She giggled as he smiled at her.

“Thank you,” Luna said, still holding her dreamy look, but blushing all the same.

“Don't even think about taking him girls,” Hermione said, wrapping her arms around Harry. “He's mine.”

“Yes ma'am,” Harry said, kissing her head. “You coming Ron?”

“You going to explain how that was done?” Ron asked with a smirk in return.

“I told you, magic,” Harry said. “Now, you all are supposed to be helping the first years. Why aren't you doing your job?” He laughed as Ginny and Luna took off, Ron trailing behind. “Go on love, you've got work to do.”

“But what about you?” She asked, clinging to him. She really did not want to leave him alone longer than he needed to be. She hated being from his gaze, where she knew she was safe and loved.

“I'll be right beside you,” Harry said, picking up her hand. “Now let's get you to work.” Walking together, for the first time, Harry realized that Malfoy had not bothered them during the ride. If this was a bad thing, he did not know; what he did know was that it could not be good.

-->

A/N: Apolgies, these two chapters have been long time in the making. I've started work, school, all those fun distraction in life that takes us away from what is important.

Anyway, short chapter I know, but cliff for the next couple of chapters. Also, I apologize if you don't like the fact that Hermione is so clingy, I have a perfectly, in my mind, explanation for that in the upcoming chapters. Bits and pieces have been planted earlier, and it is not exactly what you think it is.

Chapter Thirteen:

Change in the Winds

The greatest paradox of them all is to speak of "civilized warfare." Anonymous

Harry walked with Hermione as she guided the first years toward the boats. They got into a carriage with Ginny and Luna; Ron had run off to another one. Ginny had said he was talking to a girl from Hufflepuff as he went onto the carriage. Harry could tell that Luna looked a bit upset about that, but she did not show it much. Hermione leaned against him, smiling to herself as he played with her hair.

“What are we going to do about sleeping arrangements?” Hermione asked, as their carriage hit a rock or something, causing it to jump slightly.

“Well,” Harry said. He got weird looks from both Ginny and Luna. “We were sharing a bed, not like you two are thinking,” he said as his face blushed, “to help stop the nightmares I used to get. What Hermione means is that without her by my side I may still have the nightmares. But I think I'll be able to handle it.” Harry said as the two girls across from them began to giggle.

“Are you sure? I mean we could talk to Dumbledore about it,” Hermione said, not really wanting to give up her giant teddy bear. She could still remember the nights when her father did not want her to be in the same room alone with Harry. It felt so cold without him.

“I'll be there in the morning for you, Mione,” Harry said, placing his head on top of hers. “What's so funny?” He looked at both Ginny and Luna; they were currently trying to stifle their giggles.

“Well, you two,” Ginny said finally. “You are acting like you'll never see each other again.” Harry could not help but blush at the moment, despite how true her words were. Hermione just sighed and held onto him tighter.

“I don't care, he's mine, and he's not going anywhere,” Hermione said, sitting up so she could rest her head on his shoulder. They sat in silence for the remainder of the ride.

As they got out of the carriage, Harry looked around, trying to find Ron. He spotted the redhead with the same blond haired girl he was with earlier. “Well, looks like Ron is moving on rather quickly.”

“What?” Hermione said as he helped her out of the carriage.

“See,” he pointed toward the direction of Ron. Hermione let out an aggravated sigh. She could tell by Luna's facial expressions at the moment that the young blond like Ron. Luna looked almost sadden at this point.

“I'll talk to you after the Sorting,” Ginny said as Luna waved as she went into a crowd of Ravenclaws.

“I swear if one of them hurts her,” Harry muttered under his breath.

“Feeling a little protective?” Hermione said, as he took her hand in hist. Harry looked at her, slightly surprised. He nodded, though he looked confused, lost in thought. “Don't worry, I'm not jealous.”

“I know you're not,” Harry said, smiling back at her. “It's just that I can't explain why I feel so protective of her.”

“Give it time, you'll put a name to it,” Hermione said as they followed Ginny into the Great Hall.

They took a seat as Ron strolled over to them, a large smile on his face. “What are you so happy about?” Harry asked as Ron took a seat across from them.

“I just got me a date for the Room of Requirement,” Ron said with a large smile.

“Ron, you can't use that room for dates,” Hermione scowled him quietly. “The Room is for DA, nothing more. If you start abusing the room, all the other kids will and then we won't have a place to practice.”

“Relax Herms,” Ron said waving his hand.

“You know I hate it when you shorten my name,” Hermione said, keeping her scowled look.

“I know,” Ron said still smiling. “And it's just until Hogsmeade comes around.” Hermione shook her head, finding comfort in Harry taking up her hand. With a small smile, he told her he agreed with her. She leaned her head against Harry's shoulders, a content smile now playing upon her face. “When did you turn so girly?”

“I've always been a girl Ron, in case you haven't noticed,” Hermione said, getting agitated again. She took her head off his shoulders, obviously infuriated at Ron.

“You never acted like it,” Ron mumbled underneath his breath.

“Always looking out for us, making sure we got our work done and on time,” Harry said, looking at Hermione. “That sound's like what a girl would do for two boys she cares about.” She began to blush, as he put her arm around her. “Well, there are some other things you've done only for me. Those definitely are what a woman who loves me would do.” He whispered to her quietly, causing the blush to deepen. Ron just shook his head as the doors to the Great Hall opened.

McGonagall came in, and placed the Sorting Hat on the stool. Moments later the room's murmur died down and the first years came in, who unsurprisingly were staring at the ceiling as they entered. Hermione eagerly pointed out Grace and Julie who were still talking to the same boy from earlier. She looked at Harry, seeing the smile on his face made her smile. His smile really was infectious.

“Welcome, to the Sorting Ceremony,” McGonagall said. “Each of you will be sorted into the house which suits you the best. Each House has its past glories and follies. I expect that all of you will respect which house you are sorted into as well as the others.” She took a step back, allowing the children to see the Sorting Hat. And it began its song:

Back when the school was new,

When the world was young,

And the wizards weren't as foolish or as greedy,

There were songs left unsung

Book left unwritten,

And students left untaught

The Founders formed Hogwarts to teach them all

But among each other they fought.

To teach is a gift that few have

But many thank those that teach.

Although they were of differences

The knowledge was held in each

From Slytherin, came the skills

That got them the power they sought

From Ravenclaw, came the knowledge

That got them the wisdom that was taught.

From Gryffindor, came the understanding

That got them the bravery to stand for the right.

From Hufflepuff, came the caring

That showed no sign of spite.

Each house produced great wizards,

Some more than others.

But each house stood together,

Still sisters and brothers.

Though not of blood,

But of spirit and heart.

Yet they choose to fight and quarrel

So there were some that had to depart.

They left me, to find the ones they sought

For the houses that they left behind.

Whether Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor or Hufflepuff,

Left to search and to find

What you're meant to find.

Left to stand tall with pride,

Hogwarts stands as a reminder

Of those who have lived and those who have died.

Take pride in what has been given,

For if the walls should crumble

And the ceilings should fall

Remember to forever stay humble.

Humbled at powers that be

And humbled for your friends.

For they will guide you when you need it

And follow you to the ends.

The bonds of friendship must stay strong

For they will help you

Through all the bad times

And through all the good and the true.

Still forever it is my job,

That I will still do when you are gone.

Separated into the different houses,

But your bonds of friendship should hold strong.

If Hogwarts should crumble,

She shall fall from within,

But fear not, for she can be fixed and repaired,

To fix trust is not as easier as it has been.

Yet it can be fixed

Trust can be built once more

As can these great walls

Strong and better than before.

United we stand, divided we fall

Don't forget what Hogwarts truly represents:

Friendship, unity, and hope.

So let the Sorting Ceremony commence.

Harry clapped along with everyone else, but the Hat had once again predicted something that was going to happen, what he didn't know. The first years still looked scared as McGonagall produced a scroll from thin air. The hat became motionless as she lifted it from the first student. “Adkins, Thomas.” A terrified little boy stepped forward and sat down on the stool. McGonagall placed the hat down on the quivering boy. There was a short pause, but the brim of the hat opened up and yelled, “RAVENCLAW!”

The Ravenclaw table burst into applause as the boy sat down. Harry clapped as well, but the hall got silent for the next kid. Harry relaxed as the Sorting Ceremony progressed slowly. The line of first years thinned and the growl in Ron's stomach got louder and louder. Hermione just rolled her eyes every time it happened. Finally, it was time for Hermione's sister.

Julie cautiously went up to the stool, and not a moment before it was on her head it had shouted: “GRYFFINDOR!” She looked relieved as she took her seat next to a second year.

After a little while, the boy who was with them was called. His name was Arthur Pendragunn. He looked completely unfazed as he walked up to the stool. Harry had never seen it happen before, but McGonagall had not even lowered the hat before it said, “GRYFFINDOR!”

The Sorting continued without any more surprises, and soon it was Grace's turn. She looked just as afraid as Julie did. Taking her place on the stool, McGonagall put the hat on top of her head. It sat there for a few moments; Harry suspected it was talking to her about her personality and such, much like it did to him. For a while he thought it might not place her where Serge had said she would be. “GRYFFINDOR!” It shouted. Harry shook his head, laughing to himself. How did Serge know?

As Xander Zaviour, the final student, sat down at the Hufflepuff table, Dumbledore stood up. “Welcome, first years. And salutations to the returning students. There is much to discuss tonight, but now is not the time. Now is the time to relax and - Tuck in!”

“Finally,” Ron said, as the food appeared. Hermione shook her head in disgust as Harry prepared her plate before Ron could get to all of the food.

“Wonder who the DADA teacher is going to be,” Harry said to himself as he started to fill his place.

“Who cares,” Ron said, between bites.

“I have to agree with Ron for once,” Hermione said. “As long as it's not a hack like Umbridge.” She shuddered and the three of them shared a laugh.

“You're right, but I'd still like to know,” Harry said, looking around the hall. “Hey who's the Head Girl and Boy this year?”

“Don't you know?” Ron asked, earning a glare from Hermione.

“He wasn't at the meeting Ron,” Hermione said, as Harry looked around the hall again. “Cho's the Head Girl Harry.” Harry looked at her and shrugged. She smiled to herself at that and leaned against his shoulder.

“As long as she doesn't abuse her privilege,” Harry said, taking a bite from his plate. “I have to talk to Luna about something, but other than that I have no problem with her being the Head Girl.” He wrapped his arm around Hermione and kissed her cheek, causing a great deal of the table to stare. “Besides, I happen to have a great girlfriend that keeps my head level.”

“You don't mind that the school knows?” Hermione asked, blushing. He shook his head, holding his smile.

“I'll shout it from the tops of the Astronomy tower if you want?” He watched as her blush deepened. “Besides, I think there are a great number of girls right now jealous of the fact that it is you on my arm instead of them.”

“Do you want any of them?” Hermione asked quietly as her insecurities got the better of her.

“Now why would I want them if I have the goddess right now on my arm?” Harry asked, kissing her forehead lightly. “Eat; we've got to study after dinner.”

“You're going to study?” Ron asked, almost choking on his food. Harry nodded, laughing lightly. “Herms has really been a bad influence on you.”

“Ron, you understand what I have to do don't you?” Harry asked, his eyes narrowing. Ron gave him a questioning look. Harry shook his head. “Ron you are so damn thick some times.”

“What are you talking about?” Ron asked as he continued to eat. Hermione finally pushed away her plate and glared at Ron as well.

“Ron, neither of us really needs to study, but it is a way to mentally prepare for the travesties and challenges that will come during this year,” Hermione said in a soft voice. “You on the other hand, if you do not apply yourself will find yourself with few job options, and with lower grades, which would get your mother angry, which in turn will get you angry and prevented from doing some of the things you enjoy.” Hermione paused for a moment, silently reveling in the frown of Ron's face. “Besides, Guile probably won't like it if you fall out of shape.”

“You're right about that,” a voice said from behind them. Ron's face went white as he turned around to see Guile standing behind him. Harry could not help but smirk. “I'll be giving a dietary plan for all three of you, as well as anyone else you wish to include, to keep to while we continue your extracurricular studies.” He smirked and floated away. Well maybe not, Harry figured his feet did touch the ground, it was just in the way he walked that it looked like he floated. Guile greeted the Headmaster and went to the one open seat.

“When did he show up?” Ron asked still visibly white.

“I really don't know,” Hermione said, watching him as he sat down. “I guess he's our new DADA teacher.”

“Figures,” Ron said, crossing his arms. “Now I'm going to have to go through his hell during school.”

“Well, I think Serge will be working with him as well, from time to time,” Harry said pushing away his plate as well. Looking around the hall, he saw the majority of the students had finished as well, only those with stomachs like Ron's kept at it. Ron however, lost his appetite completely after seeing Guile come into the room. Dumbledore rose from his chair and the hall soon was quiet.

“This year is one were we must all stay together,” Dumbledore said. “The Dark Lord has grown in strength these last few months. With his attack upon the Ministry, the need for protection has risen greatly. I would like to introduce you to our newest Defense against the Dark Arts professor, Professor-”

“Doctor,” Guile said as he rose.

“Sorry,” Dumbledore said with a smile. Guile stared forward and began to gaze around the hallway. “Doctor Guile Moody. He had some words for you all.”

“I will give you four words that you will come to fear as much as you do this Dark Lord of yours,” Guile said as he continued his gaze across the hall. As it got to him, Harry felt like he was being judged almost. “The black wind howls.” He sat back down, but his gaze did not end.

“Thank you Doctor Moody, for those interesting words,” Dumbledore said, taking control of the hall once more. “There will be as well as a dance this winter, similar to the Yule Ball two years back for those that can remember.” Hermione gripped Harry's arm, trying to hold back her smile. A wave of squeals from the girls and murmurs from the boys crossed the hall. “This ball will be opened for all years as an attempt to help brighten this already dark year.” His tone grew serious and he lost his smile. “This year will no doubt be a foreshadow to things to come. We must stay strong and together. Course loads will increase this year, and a once clandestine club has been moved to the spotlight as to help prepare you all even more.” Hermione stopped grinning as she realized what the professor was doing. He was making the entire school aware of their club. He was practically making them teachers.

“Mister Harry Potter and Miss Hermione Granger had created a club as some of you may have called Dumbledore's Army. A most interesting club, one that helped secure the OWLS and NEWTS of several of the students in this very room,” Dumbledore said with a large smile. “They along with a few others that they designate will begin offering a class to help refine and expand your repertoire of spells as well as overall knowledge. This club is open to anyone and a list will be posted on the Great Hall doors. All those who wish to sign up, may. I have given them the authority of teachers to use during the club, and only during the club. You will respect them and they do hold the right to punish you.

“Mr. Filch has asked that you be reminded that magic not be used in the hallways. Also a list of forbidden objects in the school is posted on Mr. Filch's door. Many new items have been added, many of them from Weasley Wizard Wheezes.” Dumbledore gave the students a smile, and Harry could only return it without laughing. “First years ought to know that the forest is out of bounds - and some older students should remember this.” (Harry, Hermione and Ron smiled at each other.) Harry tuned him out at this point, his mind too much focused on the idea of teacher the entire school. How could they maintain a control over the students when most of them were not as adaptive at the spells as the groups he had the previous year.

“Harry?” Hermione asked, noticing he was staring off into space at the moment.

“Mate, you okay?” Ron asked as he shook his head. He smiled at them, trying to figure out a way to talk to Dumbledore.

“I'm going to have to speak with the Headmaster after dinner,” Harry said as Ron gave him a weird look.

“Backing out now?” He said jokingly. Harry shook his head.

“There are just some things we need to discuss before tomorrow,” Harry saw the hall was beginning to empty. Dumbledore must have dismissed them. “Well, I'll be back as soon as I can.” He kissed Hermione's forehead, causing her to blush.

“Do you like making me blush in public?” Hermione said as he walked away.

“Only when you're thinking about me,” Harry said, loud enough for a group of third year Ravenclaw girls to hear. She blushed deeper at the sight of the girls. Harry quickly went to Dumbledore's office; it opened before he had a chance to start to guess the password.

“Come in Harry,” Dumbledore said as Harry ran up the stairs. “I believe there is something you wish to speak to me about? Please take a seat.” Harry nodded and sat down, trying to figure it all out still.

“Sir, you want me and Hermione to teach the entire school?” Harry asked, still unsure of the predicament.

“No, just the select few who choose to join your club,” Dumbledore said with a smile.

“Well the club now is officially open to everyone, and I, we can't teach everyone,” Harry said, looking down at the floor. “I don't believe that half of the students here believe me sir.”

“But they believe in you,” Dumbledore corrected him, giving him a small smile. “And that Harry, is the most important thing you have to offer. I will continue to teach you, along with my grandson this year, much as Hermione will continue to learn my daughter, and Ronald will continue training with our current DADA teacher.”

“Sir, what did he mean by `the black wind howls'?” Harry asked, thinking back to dinner.

“I honestly do not know, Harry,” Dumbledore said, a worried look behind his glasses. “I can only guess that it is something that he will explain as the year goes on.”

“Thank you sir,” Harry said, standing up from his seat. “When is my training going to continue?”

“Training will not begin until just before Hermione's birthday,” Dumbledore said with a slight twinkle to his eyes. Harry looked at him. He knew the man was hiding something, but could not tell what it was. “I doubt you need my assistance in Occlumency, Harry. You've gotten to the point yourself were you may look at someone, and learn something, if you concentrate hard enough. You can also block your memories from anyone, including myself.” Harry nodded. “Now, is there anything else?”

“No sir, but when will DA start?”

“As soon as you are ready,” Dumbledore said with a smile. Harry nodded once more and rose to leave. They exchanged goodbyes and Harry began the walk back to the Gryffindor Common room. He walked in silence, trying to figure out what to do. He did not know if he could handle the leading a club of that size by himself. He did not know he could handle it with Hermione.

Saying the password, Harry found Hermione and Ron talking, or rather, arguing about something by their usual seats. Shaking his head, he guessed something never did change. As he got closer to them, Hermione stopped, and literally rushed at him, surrounding him in a hug.

“Nice to see you too again,” Harry said as he wrapped his arms around her.

“Just trying to get my fill of you,” Hermione said, as she squeezed him tightly.

“Don't think you could ever do that,” Harry kissed her head lightly as she loosened her grip. “What were you and Ron arguing about now?”

“He thinks it's alright to abuse the Room of Requirement,” Hermione said, glaring at Ron.

“Its just one date, and besides what's the worst that can happen?” Ron asked as Harry walked over. He sat down and Hermione did as well, leaning against his shoulder.

“Ron, listen to this carefully,” Harry said in a calm voice. “If you have any intentions of making out with her or shagging her and you enter that room, guess what you are going to get, along with a slap in the face?” Ron's mouth fell and he stared at him. “Because that is all you're going to get if you're not serious about this.”

“All I want it a place to eat in private,” Ron reasoned.

“Then make a picnic basket for a date outside, but the Room of Requirements is off limits Ron,” Harry said, shaking his head. “Ron, we need that room to train the students, and that's it. Other than that, good for you, just don't break any hearts.” His mind slipped to when Luna looked at Ron with that blonde from earlier.

“Alright, alright,” Ron said, standing up from his seat. “You going to bed?”

“Not yet,” Harry said. He wrapped an arm around Hermione, pulling her closer. She had oddly remained quiet throughout the conversation with Ron and had her eyes closed. “You okay?” She shook her head and moved so she was sitting on his lap.

“We need to talk to Dumbledore,” she said through a yawn. Harry wrapped his arms around her as she put her head on his shoulder.

“I already did,” Harry said slightly confused.

“About getting a room to share,” she said, tears in her eyes. She did not like the idea of spending time away from Harry. She had cried herself to sleep the last time they did, and had not been out of the others sight for more than half a day at most. She depended on him to lull her to sleep every night, not that she'd ever tell him, but his heart beat coaxed her a gentle dream world were she spent staring and playing around with him in bed.

“Sssh,” Harry said, rocking her back and forth. He did not expected such a reaction from her. Around everyone else, she seemed so strong and confident with herself. But there were times, when she did break down like this, only with him. He knew she was the world to him, and he guessed, she did not want to lose her world either. “We'll think of something.”

Harry continued to rock her as the fire crackled and her sobbing subsided. He felt comfort in it, knowing that the silence would end eventually, but he really did not want it to. Part of him wanted to stay like this, locked in this moment where

“Can we sleep down here tonight?” Hermione asked as he brushed away few stray tears.

“Let me get one thing,” Harry said. He held up his hand, waving it in a motion she had never seen before, and moments later a rather large blanket was in his hands. He began to wrap it around them as she snuggled as closer as she could. Wrapping his arms around her, he laid down on the couch, his feet on the arm of the couch. “We'll worry about it in the morning, love.”

“Good night Harry,” Hermione said, kissing his lips lightly.

“Good night, angel,” Harry said. He took one of her hands in his. Giving it a gently squeeze, he relaxed, knowing that she would be there in the morning.

-->

A/N: I know the last chapter was short. But I had to get to this chapter. Yes, I know Hermione seems to dependent on Harry, but that will be explained next chapter. I've kept hinting at the reasons why earlie. One of the last lines in the previous chapter was that she was still `Hermione' around everyone else, she only got that why with Harry, shy, quieter, more emotional. This also will be explained later, I just don't know how much. There will be no loose ends in this one, I hope and here comes the darkness that will follow throughout the book.

Chapter Fourteen:

Into the Fray

“Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, because I am the biggest baddest motherfucker in the valley.” Full Metal Jacket

The beginning of the school year moved smoothly. Harry and Hermione continued to sleep on the couch every night; neither had the strength to let the other go to their bed. They woke up before everyone else every day and showered before they all did. Harry continued to watch out for Grace and Julie, but they really did not need it; Arthur took to being great friends with them, and wasn't seen out of their presence, except when they left for the night. Harry felt slightly nostalgic as he thought about his first and second year whenever he saw them together like that.

Ron had become quite the lady's man and was on his second girlfriend as they started their second week of school. He really did not notice the reactions from Hermione, Ginny, or Luna with what he was doing. Hermione and Ginny just glared at him whenever he was around now; Harry had taken to talking to Luna, and over the course of the first week had become very protective of her.

He did not like it when the Ravenclaws began to take away her things again, and this time, he did something about it. Not only had he threatened to get the prefect status of every Ravenclaw taken away, but Cho's Head Girl status as well, if she did not stop the problem. He knew she knew who was involved; Harry had made a big seen of it, and the argument rivaled ones between him and Malfoy. He lost them about fifty points, but Ravenclaw lost close to a hundred with the amount taken off for every student involved with what happened. But the message was out: mess with Luna, you'll find Harry coming after you.

It was probably would be even worse if someone went after Hermione, she surmised. Hermione knew that Harry was protective of her and although she could take care of herself, she kind of liked it when someone loved her that much to look out for her. She had heard from Lavender what he had done to some Ravenclaw boys who were talking about her while he pasted them on his way to meet with Cho. She said that he broke one of their noses and had another up by his neck against a wall. And all done in self-defense, Lavender said. When Hermione asked Harry about, he wrapped her in his arms, and simply told her `they choose poorly' their words about her. So all he did was insult their masculinity and they attacked him. That was the reason behind losing so many points for Gryffindor.

Walking out of her Arithmancy class with Luna, who was talking feverously about what they were doing inside, Hermione spotted Grace and Julie walking their way with smiles on their faces. “What are you two so happy about?”

“We found out about Hogsmeade,” Julie said with a large smile.

“And?” Hermione said, not liking where this was going.

“We want you to buy us something,” Grace said. And the two of them began to good off on a tangent of whatever it was they wanted. Hermione was so lost in the conversation that she did not even realize there was someone creeping up on them. The two first year girls were talking so quickly and adamantly that neither saw the figure draw his wand. All that anyone heard was four screams.

* * * * * *

Harry had been talking with Serge before their first training session when he heard the news. McGonagall came rushing to them, fear etched across her face. Harry had never seen her so afraid before. And he never felt his heart drop lower.

“Please tell me Hermione's okay, please,” Harry begged of her. He kept his voice even, but could not hold back some of his fear.

“Harry, please come with me,” McGonagall said. Serge had been explained what his army days before hand, back in `Nam' as he called it. Harry could not help but enjoy some of them old war stories. The man seemed barely over thirty and yet here he was telling stories about a war Harry had barely heard of. “Better come too Serge.”

“Why?” He asked. Serge picked up his black bag that he took everywhere as they walked out the door.

“Something has happened that we need both of you to react rationally to,” McGonagall said. Harry quickly picked up his katana as he and Serge rushed behind her as she hurried through one of the halls. Harry shook his head, recognizing the hall, the one that lead to Arthimancy. There were four wands lying on the floor at the moment, and a ring of students on the opposite side of the hallway. Dumbledore had his head in his hands, sitting on a chair that must have been conjured.

“That's Gracy's wand,” Serge said dropping his bag. “What happened here?” His voice cracked as he spoke.

“What do you think happened?” Snape said, callously. Harry had almost found his voice when Serge picked Snape up by his collar and held his against the wall.

“Listen here you fuckin' son-of-a-bitch,” Serge said in a dangerously calm voice. “My daughter is missin' and all you can do there is patronizin' me. I have even less trust in the Aurors to solve this matter peacefully, and you are here actin' like an ass.” He dropped Snape to the floor and glared at him. “Harry, its time to train.” He quickly walked away. It paining him to much to stay there, Harry left too, but he still was fuming.

Once a great distance away from them, actually near the entrance to the school, Serge stopped. He held his back to Harry, and did not speak. “How can you just walk away like that; when your daughter, her best friend, a great friend of mine, and the love of my life are taken hostage?” There was another moment of silence before Serge spoke.

“Harry, you lesson today is about the hunt,” Serge said, dropping to one knee. . He opened his black bag as he spoke. “We are goin' after them son-of-a-bitches, and we're goin' get them safely back at home.” He began to load one of his shotguns, and slide a pistol into his belt. “I can get us there, but I need you to help me return them safely. I'll be the distraction, you will get them out of there, understand.” Harry nodded, sliding his katana into his sheath.

“Expect to find resistance?” Harry asked. He knelt down next to him so they were on eye level.

“I'm counting on it,” he said. Serge cocked the shotgun and placed two more with straps on his back. “I'm also expecting Dementors Harry. You'll see a first class charm tonight, unlike nothing you've ever seen before.” He stood up, and Harry did the same. “Let's go.”

“Where are you two going?” Guile was walking up with Ron as Harry and Serge were about to open the door. “The black wind is howls. You can not expect to be victorious, Serge.”

“I'm not going to be,” Serge said with a smile. “Harry is. Now unless you have some parting wisdom or anything, please leave us. We both are on a tight anger management schedule.”

“Very well, Mister Potter,” Guile turned to look at him. He almost looked like he was smiling. “I believe there something that I can give you that Serge can not.”

“Well, get on with it,” Harry said. He was annoyed at the moment; Hermione was his only concern. “My angel is out there.”

“And an army of angels shall assist you,” Guile said, holding out his right hand. There was an orb, the same size as the ones that Serge gave him. “Place it in the slot where you red orb is now, you shall learn what I mean. Also, remember Harry, it is the darkest before dawn.” He turned and left them, Ron still standing in shock. “Come Ronald, we have much to do.” Harry removed his katana and quickly did what Guile suggested, and placed the red orb with his remaining ones.

“I want to help them too, she's my best friend too,” Ron said, standing his ground.

“Leave Ronald,” Serge said a growl in his voice. He was not facing them, only staring out into the cloudy night. “What we will do tonight, what we will see, you are not ready for.”

“You're no use to them dead, now, we've got more work to do,” Guile said, floating back around to Ron. He picked him up by his ear and began to drag him away. “You are the furthest behind in your studies….” As he went off, he began to reprimand Ron; Harry could not help but smirk slightly.

“Let's get going,” Serge said, taking off in a brisk jog to the Forbidden Forest. “Take these.” Serge said, handing him a pair of goggles. “They should fit right over you glasses.”

“What are they?” Harry asked as the world around him began clear, albeit green.

“Night vision goggles,” Serge said. He continued to walk in front of Harry. “Follow me, and don't take them off until I tell you to, understand me?”

“Yes, sir,” Harry said. He moved quietly, copying Serge's steps down to the amount of pressure he used in each step. They moved silently, quietly. It had been around dusk when they left, and as night crept slowly by, every sound to him, was the enemy. Every movement was the enemy. Everything that happened that he could not identify was the enemy. An enemy that took his angel; they took away his Mione away from him.

Neither spoke, out of fear or caution, Harry could not detect. All he knew was that one point, Serge slowed down as the rustling behind the tree grew loud and the air grew cold.

“Harry, take off the goggles,” Serge said. Harry did as he was told, vaguely away of Serge removing his glove through the dark night. No moon shone, no nothing, but that rustling. “You're in for a show.” He said. Serge took one step forward, stepping on a twig, making a rather large crack. The air grew frosty as Harry could see the Dementors approaching. “Expecto Patronum!” A bright light came forth from Serge's wrist, creating a rather large mist. Harry had no idea how the mist was going to beat the Dementors. And from the air around him, there was a great deal of them.

Then, a soft march began. A simple flute and drummer were playing. Harry could see them as three men marched outward from the mist as it spread across the horizon. One played the flute, another the snare drum, and the third held high what he could only surmise to be the American flag. All three were bandaged and limping, especially the flag bearer.

“What is that?” Harry asked as the sound of gun fire could be heard.

“Watch as you see my protectors, my brethren in battle,” Serge said. The light from the mist grew, and shaped into men, decked out in jungle camouflage and all carrying a weapon, a semiautomatic rifle. “My Patronus, Harry, my Patronus.”

“This is amazing,” Harry said, as he could finally see the Dementors coming forward. They did not stop, they did not halt or even flinch as the Patronus took form. “It's not working.”

“Watch Harry,” Serge said.

“Take aim, men!” One of the soldiers yelled. He was running behind them all, making sure they were well fortified. “Don't shoot til you see the whites of their eyes.”

“What are they waiting for?” Harry asked once more, as one of the Dementors attacked the closest white soldier.

He covered his ears as the gun fire echoed through the woods. He vaguely saw the centaurs on a hill far away before they went on. Looking back, he saw the Dementor's body be destroyed as it was riddled with even more bullets. But even as the soldier took down that one, another Dementor took him by the head and ripped it off. Harry could only watch in horror as the men began to fire on the oncoming Dementors. Appearing out of nowhere, they were overwhelming the soldiers, but the soldiers did not give up with a fight.

One soldier was tossing grenades at them, wounding a few, but no enough. The Dementors used force beyond what a normal athletic human could do.

“Harry,” Serge yelled, picking up one of the fallen men's guns. “Pull out your katana and start hacking.” Harry nodded, swiftly moving into the fighting stance that came natural to him. “Charge!” Serge yelled. The men all stood and charged forward into the fray with bullets firing and eyes blazing. They took on this endless battle and the mist began anew, creating more soldiers, these men looked vaguely similar to the other soldiers.

Seeing the men's faces, no, Harry corrected himself. `These are just boys, no older than me.' He said to himself as he watched them charge into the melee. “For you. For my angel.” Harry said, charging right after them.

Swinging the sword, Harry let his magic flow, as he was taught, into the blade, a white arc flew from the blade as he swung downward. The arc sliced the Dementor in front of him; Harry smiled slightly, but had to duck and roll before he could enjoy the moment. A Dementor had swung at him. He fell forward at the pain going through his back. Blocking it out, he turned to face his attacker. Harry almost recoiled at the look of the Dementor, or that is what he thought it was.

The creature wore his robes much like a Dementor, only a hole to suck the happiness. But this creature was different; Harry could see red glowing eyes from behind the masks, with bone like fingers coming through the ends of the robes. Harry saw the creature reach into his robes, pulling out a long thick sword, giving off its own darkness. Parrying with his own sword first, Harry then quickly rolled back to his feet, staring down the creature. It had the same dark red eyes that had inhabited Ron. Before either the creature or Harry had a chance to react, a gunshot rang out close to them. The creature slumped to the forest floor, and Harry turned to look, seeing Serge holding a glowing white pistol in his hand.

“We've got company Harry, a friend that both of us could use at the moment,” Serge said, pointing in the direction of a lantern.

“Harry!” Hagrid's voice rang out through the forest. Harry parried another attack, and looked at Hagrid's monstrous form making its way to them. This time, a smile grew on his face, watching the gentle giant take one of the creatures by its neck, or at least were it should have been, and rip its head off. Fang tore into one, and Harry looked back, knowing his friend was safe.

Harry turned on the next monster. Swinging his katana, he met with another sword, but this time, expecting it, let his magic create the same arc that he had made before. The white arc sliced the creature in half, and it was only then did he notice the soldiers fading. That was the last of them. Breathing heavily, Harry slid his katana back into its cover.

“Well done, Harry,” Serge said, picking his black bag back up. “Hagrid, good you could join us, now I ask you to leave.”

“I'm out here because Dumbledore sent me,” Hagrid said, standing his ground.

“And you did your job; you found us, now leave us be,” Serge said. “We've got a great deal of road to travel, and we've wasted enough time here.” He took off in a sprint that Harry easily kept up with. The forest no longer seemed as dark without Serge's glove on.

“What am I going to tell Dumbledore?” Hagrid yelled.

“Tell him if we don't come back, don't send a search party,” Serge yelled. Harry remained quiet. His mind began to focus once more on the task at hand: finding Hermione, and bring her back safely to him.

* * * * *

Boom. Hermione awoke to the sound of thunder crashing. Cringing, she could not see the world around her, nor could she see. She could vaguely hear the sound of feet shuffling. The ground beneath her was beginning to turn muddy as the rain fell. Or at least she thought it did, nothing touched her. She did not know where she was or how she got there. All that came to here was that night when she saw it happen. Shuddering, she felt someone brush her hair roughly. She shook her head, trying to make that hand go away. It did, and she felt herself floating off the ground.

As she floated, her fear increased. They must have been in a cave or something, but now she was outside. The cold wind blew hard against her as the rain poured down. Boom. The thunder called again, and she cringed once more. Her face was lightly cut by low limbs and branches. She tried to curl up, but something restrained her. She felt no ropes, on her legs or anything, but something stopped her. Finally she was dropped roughly onto the ground.

“Well, Mudslut,” a female voice said. “Looks like a good night for sleeping out in the woods.” Her laughter mimicked the thunder: loud, disturbing, horrible. She whimpered in fear of what she could do to her in that position at that moment. Boom. Moments later and nothing happened. She began her pray, to have Harry bring her home, safe.

* * * * *

“Damn it,” Harry said to himself. It had to be close to midnight as they navigated through the forest. For all he knew they were no closer to finding Hermione or Luna, or Grace or Julie. And it irked him beyond belief. A storm brewed, not of his creation, like he could do that without being tired afterward, but it still got him angrier. `Hermione hates storms,' he thought to himself as they finally stopped. He back stung slightly at the falling ran, but he did not think anything of it.

“Out of breath?” Serge asked, turning around. The glow from his hand gave him an unearthly quality. Harry shook his head. “I can't help you for this part, but I want you to close your eyes, and concentrate on Hermione. Listen around the forest. Don't hear, listen. Listen for that one small piece of information that will help us find her.” Harry nodded as the rain poured down.

Closing his eyes, he began to take deep breathes, almost falling into he meditative trance that Serge was teaching him to go into. The pitter-patter of the rain began to fill his ears as did the smell of rain water. Slowly, though, it all quieted as he let his mind find his deepest memories of Hermione, and slowly, he heard a whimpering sound of her crying. “Mione!” he whispered softly. His mind was traveling there, through the woods, over a log, past a broken down tree on the left, on the other side of a darken crevice.

“Mione!” Harry screamed snapping out of the trance. Glancing quickly around him, he took off in the opposite direction they were heading in, with Serge having a hard time keeping up.

* * * * *

Hermione tried to keep her breathing level, thinking about everything other than it, but it did not work. Tears falling down her face, she was sure they were tears despite the rain, she thought she heard him. There it was again. And again. Her mind shaking free enough of the nightmares, she grasped hold of her Harry's voice. Yet she could not yell, she could not do anything, just pray that he would find her and stop all of these nightmares.

* * * * *

Harry ran as fast as his legs would carry him, pumping up and down against the muddy forest floor. He had already lost one of his shoes and the second one was threatening to come off as well. “Over the log,” Harry whispered to himself. Just like in his mind.

Serge was nowhere near him at this point, but that did not matter. Harry had already passed the broken down tree on the left and was continuing into the darkness. A lock on Hermione in his mind, he carried on, despite the rain around him. His mind had an idea where she was, and his heart knew where she was.

Forging onward, he came to the darken crevice, but with the limited light, he could not see around it or in it. That's when he heard it, the whimpering. To him it was louder than any thunder bolt or crash of lightning. It was his angel's tears. Taking out his katana, Harry lit it up. He still could not see into the cave, but would not attempt to enter until Serge caught up with him. Seeing the rough corners of the rock, Harry ran around one of them, and nearly froze in his steps as the next bolt of lightning hit.

Boom. Hermione cringed again, but distinctly heard footsteps in the muck around her. She still could not speak, but she heard him. But who was him? Her tears began to fall faster at the idea that something was going to happen to her now. And she was right, something did.

In one swift moment, Harry had her him his arms, removing the blindfold from around her eyes. The look of shock on her face combined with the tears caused Harry to grasp onto her with everything he had. Boom. She cringed once more, but relaxed as she realized her knight had come to rescue her. She wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around him, but they still felt tied up.

Pulling back, Harry took a look at her. Untying the gag around her mouth, Harry saw her choke slightly as she tried to return his smile. Keeping her in his arms, he looked at her arms, which seemed to have nothing wrong with them, but did seem bound by some form of magic. Carefully maneuvering his katana so he still had her in his arms, Harry thought for a moment attempting to come up with a spell. He doubted “finite incantum” would cancel it. All he needed was an unlocking spell, and the only one he knew was: “aloramora.” Her hands became free as did her feet. Surprising himself with that, he tightened his grip around her as he attempted to stand them up.

“You okay?” Harry asked. She nodded, and looked up at him, her eyes frozen in fear. Tightening his grip on his katana, Harry spun around, slicing through the midsection of another creature like they had seen before. Off in the distance, Harry saw the centaurs again, this time, they did nothing.

The creature appeared to be nothing more than skin and bones, literally. The body had torn cloths on it covering up some sections, and others shone through to the bone. His face looked mangled, or at least Harry thought it was a he. The eyes were partially in the sockets and the jaw looked like it had been removed completely. Harry tightened his grip on Hermione's hand as she hid in his back.

“Seems you found your precious,” a demonic female voice said. “Well, until we meet again.” The voice disappeared in a wisp, only to pop back in again as a cloud of shadows in front of him. “Don't worry; I have some friends that are just dying to meet you.” The shadows disappeared again, but the sound of shuffling feet could easily be heard.

Harry turned to face whatever was coming there way, keeping his katana out front, and his other hand in Hermione's. Holding one of his hands, Hermione felt stronger, and began to heal some of the cuts and bruises on both of them. Harry walked slowly backward, moving so his was directly in front of her, her back protected by the stone wall.

“That idiot,” Harry said, watching as he the stench of rotting flesh hit his nose. “I'll make they go away, angel.” Harry said to Hermione, who nodded into his backt. “Reach into my back pouch,” he said. She looked down and with her free hand, reached into what he told her to. “Pull out one of the orbs, Mione.”

“What are they for?” She asked. The shuffling of feet became louder and the stench became almost unbearable.

“I want you to find a blue one, and tell me what's in it,” Harry said, moving his katana back and forth. She was entranced by the light that stayed as he moved it slowly. She looked down, and felt Harry jerk forward slightly, only to return to his place. Looking up, Hermione saw the head of a creature roll left and the body fall right. “Don't scream Mione, I'm trying to keep my cool for you, and its taking a lot out of me. Find a blue one yet?” She pulled her hand out of the pouch and looked at it. A blue orb with some sort of iceberg was in it.

“Y-y-yes,” she stammered as Harry swung again. She could easily see the creatures advancing now. Zombies would be the best description, because she honestly could say she had never seen one before. But they were exactly what she pictured in her mind. “It looks like an iceberg,” Hermione said as Harry swung again, this time not moving. The white arc sliced two of the zombies.

“Well, concentrate on one of them, the furthest away with the most by him,” Harry said, slashing the air once more. He began to do this rapidly, heating up the air and rain around them. Yet no matter how fast he did, they kept coming.

Hermione squeezed her hand around the blue orb, looking for what Harry had told her to look for: the largest group of zombies to use it against. She spotted them, moving slowly toward Harry as he concentrated on the others advancing. Concentrating on them, she felt a bolt of energy flow from her body into the orb, and moments later, a large block of ice, close to the size of a manor, she'd have to say, crushing the zombies.

“Good job, Mione,” Harry said, slashing another one's head off. “I'm going to try something.” He yelled over a bolt of lightning and crash of thunder. Hermione flinched, but nodded into his back. “I'm going use my wandless magic, but I need you to help support me once this is over with.” She nodded again and wrapped her arms around his waist.

Harry stopped his momentum as he cut through another one. Gathering his energy, Harry closed his eyes, focusing on a rather large ball of electricity at the tip of his katana. Opening his eyes again, Harry smirked, and felt Hermione tighten her grip on him.

Hermione flinched as another crash of thunder was heard. She peaked her head around and saw the beginnings of a ball of energy at the end of Harry's sword appear. Within moments, Harry was hit with a bolt of lightning, and she began to scream. His body began to heat up, but not enough to hurt him from what she could tell. All of a sudden one of the zombies had attacked him. Harry swung the sword at the creature. The ball of energy struck the creature, but continued onto another and another, until it seemed like there as a rope of electricity connecting the zombies.

They shook and the smell of burning flesh filled her nostrils and she did her best not to throw-up as she attempted to keep Harry standing. He patted her hands, which were wrapped around his waist still. She could not help but smile at the gesture. He surprised her though, no doubt about that. He quickly got back on his feet.

“Harry! Where the fuck are you?” Serge's voice yelled.

“Guess the cavalry had arrived,” Harry whispered. Picking her up, he began to walk through the rotten, burnt flesh of the zombies. Stepping in several of them, Harry was glad he still had the strength to carry her. He definitely did not want her walking in the muck. She tightened her grip around his neck slightly at the next thunderbolt, but relaxed once they were around the rather large rock.

“Damn, when you move fast,” Serge said, out of breath. “What's in there?” He pointed at the shadows within the crevice of the rock.

“I don't know, but there is nothing you want to see behind this rock,” Harry said, still carrying Hermione.

“Don't need to,” he waved his hand in front of his face. “Want me to lead?”

“You're the one who brought us here,” Harry said. Serge nodded and raised his arm up. The light reflected off the ceiling of what looked like a deep cave.

“Into bowels of Hell, I shan't be travelin' alone,” Serge said. Harry and Hermione both looked at him strangely. “From some poem I think.” He shrugged his shoulders as they walked forward. Harry saw a small bat following them, but thought nothing of it.

It was a quiet walk, and Harry heard the sound of whimpering at the bottom of wherever they were going. Although he did not want to, he let Hermione walk, but kept her close to his side, not wanting to let her too far out of his reach. The bat had become a nuisance at the moment, but did not think it would matter if Serge knew or not.

“I'll kill them,” Serge said, once they had gotten to what seemed like a cliff. Harry and Hermione caught up with him, and looked down at the bottom of the well. There, Grace, Julie and Luna lay, tied up, shivering as what looked like water was dripping down on them. “Harry, give me a light.” Harry unsheathed his katana and lit it. Serge created a grappling hook and hooked it on a stalagmite “I'm going to bring them up one by one. Hermione can you carry your sister?” She nodded. “Harry, you take Luna.” He nodded as well; his mind began to focus on the bat. It had red eyes, and something that struck him as odd. The bat appeared to be looking down on Serge as he brought up Julie.

Hermione said a silent pray as Serge handed her Julie. She was unconscious, and whatever monster brought them there did not harm her. Harry was looking at something on the far wall as Serge went back down. Hermione repositioned Julie in her arms as she looked at it too. A bat, it appeared to be. But it could not have been. Its eyes were watching Serge, but bats could barely see?

“One more and we'll be home free,” Serge said. He handed Luna to Harry as he replaced his katana in its sheath. Harry held Luna gently in his arms. She seemed so light to him.

“It so good to see an old friend, and the heir of another,” the female voice said.

“Flea,” Serge said, as he dropped to the bottom of the well. “Harry, Hermione, run, run like you life depended on it.”

“But it does,” the voice said once more. A light filled the room and torches lit up the path to the entrance of the tunnel. Harry and Hermione both took several steps backward as the bat flew at them. Serge jumped onto the level ground, causing the tunnel to shake. There was a cloud of smoke were the bat was, and a woman appeared where the bat was. Or at least Harry thought is was a woman. She was attractive, Harry would be lying if he said otherwise, but there was a darkness and sense of evil in her eyes.

“Leave them alone, this has nothing to do with them,” Serge said in almost a growl. He held Grace close to his chest as he spoke.

Flea shook her? his head. “Where would the fun be in that?”

“Harry, Hermione, in five seconds run as fast as you can,' Serge said to them with his mind. Harry nodded and looked at Hermione; she appeared to be freaking out but nodded as well. “Flea, you remember how it ended last time?” A look of shock filled the woman's? face. Harry and Hermione both took off toward the entrance as Serge's light hand wrapped around Flea's neck.

Harry ran as fast as he could with Luna in his arms, which was remarkably fast. He was out of the cave before Hermione had gone maybe twenty feet. “Shit,” he swore. He placed Luna carefully on the ground. The rain had stopped thankfully. Running as fast as he could, Harry found Hermione, stumbling along with Julie in her arms. “Here we go,” Harry said, taking Julie out of Hermione's arms and putting her on his shoulder. He did the same for Hermione, placing her on his right shoulder. The weight slowed him down greatly but he got out of there faster than she would have.

“What?” Hermione said as she felt the air rush past her. Her feet were no longer on the ground and she was looking back down the tunnel. “Harry?” Her feet were back on the ground and it appeared that they were out of the tunnel. Harry was placing Julie carefully on the ground next to Luna. “How did you?”

“I ran,” Harry said. He turned and looked at her, shrugging his shoulders. He really had no definite answer beyond that. “Now, I guess we just pray that Serge and Grace will be alright.”

“How can you pray when you're dead?” A voice, a male one this time, said.

“Harry,” Ronan's voice said. Harry and Hermione both looked above the crevice to see the centaur holding a crossbow in one of his hands and a bow in another. “Give this to your lady friend.” Harry caught the crossbow as it was tossed to him, and handed it to Hermione. “That is all I can do for you.” He ran off.

“Damn bastard, `all he could do,'” Harry whispered to himself; he felt something move past him. “Hermione, prepare your crossbow.”

“I've never seen one of these before, let alone fire one,” Hermione said. The nervousness was evident in her voice. The shadow moved in the woods once more. Harry unsheathed his katana and moved into a fighting stance.

“You partner is hurt, Slash,” Serge said. A body landed in front of Harry and Hermione, causing them to both jump slightly. “He'll live, but I doubt your master will take kindly upon your failure, because after all, you were the one in charge of him, weren't you?” There was a growl in the woods, and the body of the man? disappeared.

“What just happened?” Harry asked, turning around to look at Serge.

“Just take Gracy out of my arms for a moment,” Serge said. Harry took her, and Hermione did her best to help Serge `fall' as slowly as he could to the ground. There were various burn marks on his body. His shirt was in threads, as well as he pants for the most part. “I'm an idiot.” He said, shaking his head. Hermione was healing some of his wounds as Harry placed Grace on the ground next to them. “To think an old man like me could beat an immortal like him.”

“You don't look old,” Hermione said. She was slightly confused.

“Before you ask, I'm not explaining, but I'm in my late thirties,” Serge said. He held up a hand to stop questions. “I'll be fine until we get to Hogwarts.” He strained to get up, and Harry had to help lift him off the ground. “Can you hand me Gracy?” Harry nodded, picking up Grace from her position on the ground. Hermione slung the crossbow over her shoulder so she could carry her sister.

“Why aren't they awake?” Hermione asked as she took Julie.

“My guess is they were put under a sleeping charm of some sort,” Serge said. Harry gently picked up Luna and the three of them began to walk. Hermione had a more difficult time keeping up with them as she was not used to carrying so much weight. “I did not want to wake them, as I was not sure of what may happen to us.”

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked. Serge sighed and shook his head. He was leading them, but limped slightly as he walked.

“Those two are some of the toughest SOBs you'll ever hear about,” Serge said shaking his head. “I guess now is as good of a time as any. They work for a man, his name I don't recall, but they all caused me some grief. One is hard enough, and you two are no where near being able to take on one together. The man's, that was a man if you're wondering, name was Flea. His entire life has been spent to become the most beautiful person in the world. The result is what you saw.”

“That thing is a man?” Hermione asked, shocked at the statement. Serge nodded.

“How did it end last time?” Harry asked. He had remained quiet as he was thinking about the figure named Slash.

“Well, he lost the remainder of masculinity,” Serge said. He spoke with no emotion and with his back to them, Hermione could not tell his emotions. Any other situation, it would have been funny. “His buddy came around, and I fought, barely got out of there alive, but I lost my hand in the process.” She could see him shake his head, and soon the only sound was of them stepping.

Harry was lost in his thoughts. How badly hurt were the people they were carrying at the moment hurt? Looking down, he could tell Luna was bruised slightly and her breathing slightly off. Whispering a silent prayer, he hoped she would not die. The two of them had gotten close over the last week, mainly because he had taken to looking out for her. They had spoke about how it was difficult growing up without mothers often when they were together, and they had formed a special bond. Harry really looked at Luna like a sister, one that he never got the chance to have or know.

“Harry!” Hagrid's voice called. Turning, Harry could see the half-giant's lantern swinging in the darkness. “Hermione! You all okay?”

“Hagrid's looking for us,” Harry said, getting Serge to turn. The man gave them a small smile before limping his way toward the light.

“Best be going,” he said in a small voice. “Careful though, the forest is still a dangerous place.”

“You okay Mione?” Harry asked, walking next to her. She nodded, feeling comfort in the fact after of their exploits, Harry always looked first to make sure she was okay.

“I just want to get back to a comfy bed and lay next to you,” Hermione said, blushing slightly. Hagrid was not the far away from them at the moment and she had said it pretty loud.

“All in good time, Mione,” Harry said. Hagrid appeared to be running toward them; they must not be that far from the school. He could tell it was Hagrid, even if Serge was still edgy.

“Thank Merlin yeh all right,” Hagrid said. Fang was panting next to him, looking rather tired.

“My grandfather at the castle?” Serge asked. Hagrid nodded, speechless at the state Serge was in. He began to limp away, stumbling slightly as he started. Hagrid was by his side, helping Serge walk with Harry and Hermione following them.

“There're waitin' for us,” Hagrid said. Harry looked at Hermione and smiled. Only a little bit more and a warm bed for them to share.

“Professor!” Hagrid yelled after twenty more minutes of walking. It was close to morning at the moment, and the dawn shown on three professors running to them. One the Headmaster, the other, the Head of House and the third was Madame Pomfrey. Immediately, all three of them reached the troop as they came out of the Forbidden Forest.

“Can we finish this discussion inside?” Serge asked as the three other people began to talk at once. “Hagrid, take Gracy for a moment please.” The gentle giant took Grace out of Serge's arms carefully.

“What for?” He asked. Serge smiled at them as two stretchers were conjured for Luna and Julie. Hermione felt grateful that she did not have to carry her sister anymore. Her arms felt like they were about to fall off.

“I need some shut eye,” Serge said. His voice was thick and heavy, and as he spoke, he slid to the ground. With dawn approaching, Harry could see the massive amounts of bruising and cuts on his body. Burns covered his left arm and parts of his chest.

“Poppy, get him to the infirmary immediately,” Dumbledore said, his voice low. “I am sorry, but I must ask that you two speak to me about this now.” Harry nodded and finding strength in his arms still, lifted Hermione off the ground. She seemed surprised at the action, but quickly relaxed in his arms and put her hands around his neck. “Minerva, Hagrid, assist Poppy for the moment while I speak to Harry and Hermione.” Both of them nodded, and McGonagall wore a visibly relieved face.

“We'll come see you after this,” Harry said, with a soft smile. “If Madame Pomfrey lets us.”

“I'll see you two in the infirmary,” McGonagall said. “I think it will be a better place to stay the night.” He nodded as he quickly caught up with Dumbledore. He had never expected the old headmaster to move so fast.

Once in Dumbledore's office, he conjured a single chair for them. Hermione had finally gotten off of whatever rush she was on and clung to Harry now desperately. She could not believe how much danger she had been in, nor could she begin to constitute what had happened to them. She just wanted to be safe, safe in Harry's arms. She got herself comfortable in Harry's lap, but made so his arms were still wrapped around him.

“I don't ask for much of your time,” Dumbledore said with a small smile. “All I ask is that you place your memories of tonight, into this Pensive. Both of your experiences will help us.” Taking his wand out of its holder, Harry placed it to his forehead, and pulled it away. A silver string connected his wand and forehead. He began to think back although to the beginning of the night, and brought the wand to touch the Pensive. A snap and the string disconnected from his forehead. The memory seemed weaker; he knew it was in the Pensive now.

“Your turn Mione,” Harry said to her. She nodded, but did not make a move. She in fact clung to him tighter at his statement.

“Here is your wand, Hermione,” Dumbledore said, holding it in his outstretched palm. Hermione looked at it, pausing for a moment, but turned back into Harry's chest. Harry took it from the Professor, giving him a questioning look. The Headmaster looked just as confused as Harry felt.

“Angel, you have to do this,” Harry said, rubbing circles on her arms with his free hand. “After this, you can rest, and I'm sure they won't ask you to do anything more for a while, right?” He looked up at Dumbledore, with a pleading look.

“Harry is absolutely correct,” Dumbledore said, nodding his head in agreement. Harry had only seen the man look as old as he did when Harry was told about the prophecy the previous year. “With only a few days until the weekend, you two can spend it regaining your magical levels. I don't want to hear any news that you were in class. Just do this for me Hermione, and you can go to bed.”

“Can Harry come too?” She asked, looking out of his chest only slightly. Dumbledore gave her an aged smile.

“I would not think of separating you two, and I will ensure that Poppy does not either,” he said. Hermione took her wand out of Harry's hand and placed it against her forehead. She shivered as the night replayed through her mind as she brought the wand to the Pensive. It faded though once her wand touched the pensive, and she let out a sigh of relief. “I shall talk to you this weekend, Harry.”

“Do you have it sir?” Harry asked. He had ordered something from a Wizarding catalog for Hermione's upcoming birthday and specifically stated it be sent to Dumbledore to avoid suspicion.

“Yes, and you'll have it once you return to school this Saturday,” Dumbledore said with a smirk. Before Hermione could ask any questions, Harry stood up, forcing her to tighten her grip around his neck lightly. “You two best be getting to the infirmary before Poppy sends Minerva to search for you.” Hermione smiled, and looked at Harry for a moment. He let her down, smiling slightly. She quickly ran around the desk and threw her arms around Dumbledore, surrounding him in a hug. “Oh my,” he said, his glasses slightly off kilter from the force of the hug.

“Thank you,” she whispered pulling back. “I'll see you on Saturday.” She said. She wanted to come back her after resting and go over everything that happened. She did not want to be left out of the loop anymore.

“I wouldn't miss it for the world,” Dumbledore said as Hermione went back to Harry. She leaned her head against his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his neck. He easily lifted her off the floor, and she felt her body become tired and relaxed once more.

“Come, Mione, let's get to the infirmary and then we can go to bed,” Harry said, after saying his goodbyes to the Headmaster. Hermione nodded into his chest, sighing softly.

The walk back to the infirmary was filled with only Hermione's steady breathing. The halls were empty and he made it back to the infirmary without incident. Hermione was fast asleep in his arms when Madame Pomfrey came rushing over to them.

“I'd ask you to place her on one of the beds, but I highly doubt she'll let you go,” Pomfrey said with small smile. “Take the bed right through here.” She opened a door to a private chamber, possible for Professors who were injured or sick. “I'll check up on you two in the morning, one thing Serge told me is that Hermione already healed both of you well enough that anything else can wait. A change of clothes is on the side table for both of you. Rest tonight and I do not want to hear anything inappropriate. There are two dreamless droughts for you both, please take them.” She gave them a soft smile and closed the door behind Harry.

“Love, you've got to wake up,” Harry said, laying her on the bed. She only tightened her grip around his neck. “You have to change, and I know you're awake. You're breathings changed.” She kept her eyes closed, but smiled slightly. “Now, if I get you your pajamas, will you change?” She nodded, but buried her head in his neck.

“Carry me to them,” she whispered loud enough for him to hear.

“Yes, angel,” he said. Picking her back up, he carried her to the table with the clothes on. Grabbing both sets of pajamas quickly, Hermione put them in her lap and quickly turned back into Harry's neck. The memories from her childhood of that night were still fresh in her mind even with most of the night's memories slightly faded. “You've got to change first.” She nodded into his chest and put the clothes onto the bed.

“Stand by the bed,” Hermione said as calmly as she could.

“Yes, angel,” he said, laying her gently down. This time she let go of his neck, but picked up his hand. He turned around the best her could change. Harry heard the rustling of clothes, and felt her remove her hand only for a moment before replacing it with her other.

“Done,” Hermione said. Harry turned and looked into her eyes. She had her chin down, a shy look in her eyes, along with a small smile. “Your turn.” Sliding off his pants, he quickly put on the pair that Madame Pomfrey gave him. He then proceeded to take off the shirt. By now he had caught Hermione's eye and saw, for the first time that day, a little glimmer in them.

“Tease,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck. She kissed him lightly before resting her head in the crock of his neck. “You won't leave me will you?” Hermione asked as she shivered. She began to relax once more as he took her down onto the bed with him. He effortlessly summoned a goblet.

“Never. Drink this,” he said as he brought it to her lips. He summoned the other one and drank it as well, soon following her into a deep sleep, his arms still protectively around her.

-->

A/N: My deepest, deepest apoligies. My computer crapped out on me right in the middle of my chapter, so I had to completely start over. I lost all my quotes as well. Pissed me off that all it did. I'm going

to try and pop out chapters quickly now. Not as long, but I hope still good. For those that are Ron bashers like me, the next chapter will be enjoyable.

Chapter Fifteen:

The Aftermath

It is better to be envied than pitied. Herodotus (484 BC - 430 BC)

Harry woke to the gentle sighs of Hermione's breath on his chest. At one point in the night, she had turned into his chest. She was holding on to him tightly and her breathing seemed to be erratic. His arms hung loosely around him, though as he tightened his grip around her, she relaxed, and her breathing calmed. Letting out a breath he did not know he was holding, he looked around the room.

The sunlight was creeping in through the window. He guessed it was late in the morning and as Hermione shifted on the bed, he guessed they must have been sleeping for a while. His back ached from the position he was in, but he did not care. She looked peaceful at the moment, and that was all that mattered for him. Last night had been hell for both of them. More for her than him, but he knew it had been rough.

“Hello?” Harry looked over at the door. He slipped on his glasses and looked to see Serge poking his head through the door. “Mind if we speak?”

“I guess,” Harry said. He sat up, but kept Hermione close to his side. She remained in his arms with her arms around his neck. He pulled the white sheet up her around, protecting her modesty in case she awoke.

“I wanted to congratulate you last night,” Serge said. He was still walking with a limp and held his right arm close to his chest. “Mind if I sit?”

“Be my guest,” Harry said. “I'm certainly not moving,”

“I doubted you would,” Serge said, sitting in the chair. “My grandfather talk to you yet?”

“Last night, he took the memories,” Harry said. He pulled the sleeping beauty into his lap, letting her head to rest against his chest. “He's letting us stay here until the weekend.”

“Ah, her birthday party,” Serge said. A twinkle came to his eye as he spoke. “You get the present yet?”

“Its safe,” Harry said. He looked down at Hermione. He could have sworn her breathing changed, but it did not seem like it now. “What did you want to talk about?”

“You both will be attending the meeting this weekend correct?” Serge asked. Harry nodded, speaking for both of them. “Good, I'm making sure that both you and Hermione get into the Order, if not fuck them.”

“You do have a way with those colorful metaphors, don't you,” Harry said, trying to hold back a chuckle. Serge normally would not swear in front of women, but since Hermione was asleep, he guessed Serge didn't care.

“Well, us Americans have always been called rash and foolish, who am I to buck tradition,” Serge shrugged his shoulders. “Now, need me to get you anything before I visit my daughter?”

“Maybe breakfast,” Harry said, running his hand through Hermione's hair.

“I'll see what I can do,” Serge said, with the trademark Dumbledore twinkle in his eyes. He left them, and Harry could not help but to observe the room.

It was clean, remarkable similar to the rest of the hospital wing. Yet it did not hold the same ambiance that the rest of the ward did. It seemed more peaceful and quiet. Maybe it was all the simple light tones around the room, holding only a single bed and dresser. A few mahogany chairs here or there for friends to visit and such, but overall it seemed very calm. Maybe it was just the fact the Madame Pomfrey wasn't always overhead looked out for him.

Hermione shifted in his arms slightly, attempting to stretch. Harry looked back down at Hermione, smiling to himself as her eyes fluttered open. She really did look like an angel.

“Good morning beautiful,” Harry said, letting her look up at him. “How was your night?”

“Wonderful,” she said, stretching a bit more. “How long have you been awake?”

“A while.”

“What are you getting me for my birthday?” Hermione asked. The curiosity in her eyes shocked him. “I heard you saying that it was safe. What is it?”

“If I told you, that would ruin the surprise,” Harry said. She wrapped her arms around his neck, leaning into his embrace once more.

“But I want to know,” she whined slightly. He kissed her lightly on the nose, causing her to giggle.

“You will, on Saturday,” Harry said, leaning back in the bed.

“Okay,” Hermione said. She relaxed in his arms, almost going back to sleep, when the door knocked again.

“Come in,” Harry said, covering Hermione's body with the sheet once more.

“Good morning,” Dumbledore said, walking into the room with a rather large smile on his face. “How was your night?”

“Good, now go away,” Hermione said, sliding underneath the covers completely and off of Harry's lap.

“Is there something you wish to speak to us about?” Harry asked, smirking slightly at Hermione's actions.

“Ah, yes, there is,” Dumbledore said. “Mister Lovegood approached me this morning, on a topic the concerns you, Harry.”

“What?”

“He wanted to make you the legal guardian of his daughter, should anything happen to him,” Dumbledore said, losing his smile. An almost cliché silence filled the room.

“What?” Harry asked. He must have been mistaken. He had to have been.

“Mister Luvegood has asked that you be the legal caretaker of his daughter should anything happen to him.” Dumbledore said this slowly, awaiting Harry full reaction.

“But…but why?” Harry asked, finally able to speech. Hermione sat up this time, keeping the sheets around her body.

“He is the only one that knows that,” Dumbledore said. “He has just asked this of you. You saved his daughter's life. From what I got from our conversation, he is under the impression that you act as a guardian toward her.”

“Harry is the greatest at that,” Hermione said. She shifted in his arms slightly, but let out a soft sigh. She felt so peaceful, such a contrast to the previous night.

“All I do is hurt the people I love,” Harry said, shaking his head.

“No, quite the contrary Harry, I have never seen you knowingly hurt someone,” Dumbledore said with a small smile. Hermione tightened her grip around his body. She knew what doubts plagued his mind. “You have a strength within you Harry; something that Voldemort can not comprehend. This strength is what will aid you the most Harry in this war.”

“What is it?” Hermione asked. Both Harry and Dumbledore shared a silent look before Harry nodded. Hermione watched as a smile grew upon Dumbledore's face and Harry's eyes began to twinkle brightly, similar to Dumbledore when he first entered.

“Love, Mione, my love,” Harry said, kissing her forehead lightly.

“I could have told you that,” Hermione said, looking up at him. “It is the greatest feature about you, Harry. Your capacity to love despite what you've gone through.” Harry began to blush at this statement.

“Well, we shall discuss this more once the weekend has come,” Dumbledore said, standing up. “I shall see you both on Saturday.”

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked, sitting upright. Harry wrapped the blanket back around her as Dumbledore spoke.

“You need the next few days to regain any strength you may have lost as well as for Madame Pomfrey to properly check your injures,” Dumbledore said with a small smile. “Now, I understand that you are waiting for something to eat. I believe something is on its way. Good day to you both.”

“Thank you,” Harry said. Dumbledore left without another word, but a smile. “Now, shall I get us a book?” Hermione shook her head, and pushed Harry back down onto the bed.

“We are sleeping in today, Mister Potter,” Hermione said. “I don't want you to leave my sight, understand me?” She laid down on his chest, preventing him from sitting up.

“Alright, if you say so,” Harry said. He still was confused about what had just happened. All he could do was think: `why would Mister Lovegood want him to look after Luna?'

* * * * * *

Harry spent the remainder of the weekend in the room with Hermione, similar to his summer. Not that he minded it. They remained together, finally studying as Hermione put it, on Friday. She seemed content on keeping him to herself, finding sometimes odd reason to keep him near. Maybe the memories of the attack had affected her more than either of them knew. But today, today was Saturday and they finally were released from the hospital. Both Grace and Julie were released the day before, along with Luna so they were the last to go.

“Come on Hermione,” Harry said, pulling on Hermione's arm slightly. She was given a clean bill of health, but did not seem to want to leave the comfort of the room they were in. Something was still wrong, yet he could not place his finger on it.

“Please, I don't want to go,” Hermione said, fear shaking her voice slightly.

“Hermione, you do remember what today is don't you?” Harry asked, stopping the in middle of the hallway once more. They had already stopped at least five times before; Hermione did not want to stray too far from Harry's side it seemed. From what Harry could tell, there was also a fear instilled within Grace and Julie. They both would not leave Serge alone as he had promised to stay for the weekend. He had not seen Luna yet, but if his hunch was right, she too was afraid.

“My birthday,” Hermione said, wrapping her arms around him. She knew it was her birthday, how could she forget? Harry was supposed to be giving her this big surprise.

“Yes, your birthday,” Harry said. He smiled slightly at his plan. Serge and Harry had gotten together one time when Hermione was talking with the other girls about one topic or another, he wasn't sure. But Serge and he had made for a small birthday party in the common room for her. Birthdays were not celebrated much at Hogwarts, but this time, he wanted hers to be special. To make up for the gift at least. With each passing hour, Harry grew less confident about what he was giving her. Why would she need a piece of jewelry? “You don't want to be late for it, now do you?” She shook her head, but buried it in his chest.

“I'm sorry,” she whispered. She hated herself for being so weak and scared. She hated having to hold onto Harry like she was doing, but there was no other way for her. Every time he was gone, she felt this coldness, this pain that started to overcome her. Tears welled in her eyes as she thought about all he had done for her, and how she was paying him back.

“No reason to be sorry,” Harry said, keeping her close. “I'm still not good at this Mione. I don't know what to tell you. All I know is that no matter what I'm going to be here for you.” He smoothed out her hair at the moment, getting her to look at him.

“Thank you,” she said. Leaning into his embrace even more, she felt comforted by his arms. “That's all I need right now.” They stayed like that for a few more moments before Hermione finally pulled back, her tears ending. She kissed his cheek lightly before pulling back, a small blush on her cheeks.

“Lets get going,” Harry said, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. Hermione smiled to herself as the emotions faded from her.

They walked silently back to the Common Room once more. Hermione was able to keep the pain away this time, and it kept them from stopping. It was oddly silent as they approached the dorms, but she figured it was because today was a Hogsmeade date that they would be. Sighing to herself, she relaxed as they approached the Fat Lady, marking the end of their journey.

“Do we have to go back?” Hermione asked, slightly worried with her friends reactions to what happened. It had been three days and she had not heard of what gossip had been floating around the school. Harry just shook his head.

“Yes,” he said, taking hold of her hand once more. “There is something I need to show you.”

“What?” Hermione asked, her curiosity peaking.

“Let me show you,” Harry said. He looked up at the Fat Lady who happily turned open for him.

“Welcome back,” she said with a large smile. Hermione returned it, and then turned her gaze onto now open doorway. There, on a rather large banner, were the words “Happy Birthday, Hermione!” spelled out in bright red on a gold background. Harry wrapped his arms around her waist as she swayed slightly.

“What?” Hermione managed to get out as Harry kissed her cheek.

“Harry birthday,” he said as a mob of Gryffindors came forward to speak to her. He let her go into the throng, but kept a eye on her. He would be at her side the moment she looked panic, and right now, all he could see was happiness as people wished her well year.

He spotted a familiar man standing in the corner of the room, eying each redhead, a total of four with Fred and George, with caution. Although he did not understand this, Harry let it go as something Serge would tell at a later time. Serge held a small smile as his eyes moved off of the redheads for a moment and onto his daughter and niece. Both Grace and Julie were talking with Arthur, a boy would was now officially known as their protector, taking a few lessons out of Harry's book. Goliath wandered around their feet, looking up at the three humans in awe.

“Mornin',” Serge said, his gaze changing back to the Weasleys. “When you going to give it to her?” He tossed a small rectangular box to Harry, who caught it without breaking eye contact.

“I don't know,” Harry said. He looked down at the package in his hand. When he saw the amulet, he bought it immediately in Diagon Alley. He didn't care how much it cost or such, but what mattered was that it spoke to him. Before he had paid for it, he knew it was meant for Hermione. Now, now it seemed to be a bad idea. Hermione was not the type to wear jewelry.

“Just give it to her,” Serge said with a smirk. It faded as he looked over at Ron. “I swear if he tries something,” he muttered under his breath.

“What did you say?” Harry asked, now looking at Ron too. He was guiding around Hermione, and the smile on his face upset his stomach.

“Nothing Harry. But I want you to give it to her soon, before tonight,” he gave Harry a pointed look at this, which he understood. Tonight was the order meeting where they would be inducted. “You going to let Ron do that all night?”

“You done telling me what to do?” Harry asked a smirk of his lips. Both of them laughed lightly. “Yeah, I'm going.” Harry walked into the crowd once more, making a beeline for Hermione. “I'll take it from here Ron,” he said as Hermione whipped around, throwing her arms around his neck. Ron stared at the couple for a few moments before nodding and leaving them. The crowd seemed to break up and many of them went off to enjoy the food someone, Serge or the Weasleys no doubt, brought up to the common room.

“Thank you,” Hermione said. A large smile was plastered onto her face. She kissed him furiously, giggling as she brought off the kiss. “Thank you so much.”

“I didn't do too much,” Harry said, wrapping his arms around her. “Ginny and Ron did most of it.” Ron must have heard because he blushed slightly at this acknowledgement, but Hermione did not notice. She turned around, staying in Harry's arms. Although she would not admit it, she felt uncomfortable when Ron was leading her around. That discomfort was gone now that Harry was back.

“Thank you, both of you,” Hermione said. Tears began to well in her eyes. “You have no idea how much this means to me.” Ron stepped forward as if to hug her, but a look of fear overcame his eyes, and he took two steps back.

“Well, there's the birthday girl,” Serge said, coming up behind them. For the first time, Harry took in the surrounding as Hermione exchanged conversation from within his arms with everyone.

The room was brightly lit, making the colors seem even brighter. But the mood seemed to be heavy and painful, as if something horrible was approaching. Even the flames from the fire seemed to be moving slowly, as if something was holding them back. The red, seemed to be a bright red, one like freshly spilled blood; the gold was nothing more than bright rot yellow. Everything spoke of death. Shaking his head, he moved away from that train of thought as Fred and George brought out a large red and gold cake. A chorus of “Happy Birthday” rang through the room, knocking him even further back to reality.

Hermione let the tears come as she leaned back in Harry's embrace. He held her loosely to allow her to move, but tight enough to make know he was real. The voice had returned with memories from her childhood, something she did not want to think about at the moment. She would tell Harry, he had to already know something was bugging her, but now was neither the time nor the place. At one point, Crookshanks came down from her room, making her pick up the cat in fear of the dog now barking around everyone's feet.

An hour or so past, and Hermione did not stray far out of Harry's reach, more of her own doing than his. She was currently sitting on the sofa, looking at a rather large mound of presents, trying to hold back her tears. She had never had this many presents before, beyond her parents and family. She got even more books to add to her collection as well as a small army's worth of sweets and such from everyone. She saved her best friends' presents for last. Picking up a rather large present from Ron, she guessed correctly was a book.

“What?” Her voice dropped out as she stared at the cover. The large dusty book was entitled A Complete History of Magic: Since 1981. The year the Potters were killed, Hermione thought as she fingers ran over the cover. “Thank you Ron.” She reached out and hugged him tightly. In comparison to the bottle of perfume he gave her the previous year, this present was grand. Ron had a goofy smile on his face as she pulled back, and Harry did not like the blush that was covering his cheeks either. It made his present seem even less important.

“Here is mine,” Harry said. He handed the small box to Hermione who looked at him peculiarly.

“Is this the surprise?” She asked, looking at the box wrapped in a blue paper. He nodded from his seat next to her. She looked at it apprehensively. She took off the paper, and held the small jewelry box in her hand. She held back the gasp that was in her throat. She opened it slowly, partially in fear of what the box held. A black silk cloth covered what was obviously a large amulet. She looked at Harry once more, a puzzled look on her face before removing the cloth.

A ring of gold surrounded a large flawless sapphire. The amulet was held a by a braid of what looked gold thread that would connect in the back by two small rings. But the sapphire interested her more. Looking deeply into, she could have sworn she could see the ocean crashing peacefully along the beach. It was the amulet from her dreams.

“It is supposed to help protect against dark curses and such,” Harry said, trying to explain why he gave it to her. “I figured you know….it would be useful.” Tear began to well in her eyes. “I'm sorry if you don't like it, you can always-” His conversation was stopped short as she flung herself on him, still holding onto the amulet. Harry was rained upon by tears and kisses as she thanked him. He was still confused as she relaxed in his arms. Sitting up, he looked at everyone for some explanation as Hermione held the amulet close to her heart.

“Told you she'd like it,” Serge said, causing a thrall of laughter to fill the room. Harry could not help but smile as she leaned into his arms.

“Can you help with it?” Hermione said. She held both end of it out to him. Harry nodded, taking the ends. She lifted her hair off her neck, allowing Harry to slide the amulet around her neck. The rings connected softly as he brought them together. “Thank you.” She turned around, holding the amulet in on hand. She kissed his cheek, blushing at her own action.

“You welcome, beautiful,” Harry whispered softly, causing the blush to become more prominent. He blushed as well, finally aware of everyone else in the room.

“Well, now that Romeo and Juliet are done, let get this party going,” Serge said, turning around. He waved his hand and sound, music to be more precise, reverberated from the walls. He walked away from them, leaving the Trio alone. Everyone else seemed to be getting into the party mode as well.

“Thank you, both of you,” Hermione said, as new tears began to fall. Ron gave her another smile, though it wasn't as big as before.

“Glad I could help,” Ron said, standing up. He gave them both another smile before walking away. Harry looked up at the crowd a smile grew on his face.

“Who is the one person you'd never guess to see here?” Harry said as he watched Luna approach them. Hermione turned and look at the young Ravenclaw approaching them with apprehension. She was given many odd looks from around the room, but no one said anything, in fear of what Harry might do to them.

“Happy Birthday,” Luna said. She still held her dreamy gaze, as always, but she spoke shyly almost lost. Hermione smiled and hopped out of her seat. The two girls, thought to be only acquaintances at the beginning of the year, hugged each other. This had been the first time that either of them had seen each other since the night.

“Thank you,” Hermione said as she pulled away. Harry hopped over the couch and was back at her side, supporting her slightly.

“Looks like you having a grand party,” Luna said. She appeared to be taking in everything in at the moment. Harry watched her eyes linger on Ron for a moment before turning back to them.

“Luna, I have a question for you,” Harry said. “I may sound strange, but were you scared when you left the hospital wing?” She looked at him, before nodding.

“I was for a bit, but then my father met me and we went down to Hogsmeade for a day, why?” Luna asked. Her eyes did not focus on them exactly, yet she held a calm about her.

“Just wondering,” Harry said, smiling. He moved on arm off of Hermione's shoulder and put it around Luna's. “Just looking out for you, that's all.” Hermione wrapped her arm around Harry's waist, keeping in close contact.

“Smile.” Harry vaguely heard Colin's voice as the boy took a picture of the three of them. “Thanks.” As soon as he was there, the boy was gone.

“Damn kid,” a loud voice echoed through the room. Apparently Colin just ran into Serge. “Watch where you're going.” Harry turned around, his concentration on both the ladies on his arms.

“How about we sit down?” He offered. Luna scooted out from his arm and sat across Harry's previous seat. “There is something else that I wanted to talk about.”

“I know,” Luna said. Hermione looked at Luna for a moment, slightly confused. “My father already talked to me about it.” Harry was at a temporary loss for words.

“How do you feel about it?” Harry asked, feeling uneasy it.

“You two, along with Ginny are my only true friends,” Luna said tears begin to well up in her eyes. “My father is all I have left.” Harry moved over to Luna's side, wrapping an arm around her. He was trying to be comforting, but it seemed to only make it worse. But after a few moments she regained her composure, slightly. “You are the closest I've got to family Harry. I've never been what someone may say is popular, but just knowing that I have you two as friends, make it all seem worthwhile.”

“Luna, I'm going to say this only once,” Harry said, moving so she was looking directly at him. “I grew up without my parents, and without brothers or sisters, I know how it feels. But from this point on, you will always have your brother, right here, in me.” Luna threw herself around his neck, holding onto him tightly as he tried to sooth her. Hermione smiled at the sight before her. Looking behind, she saw Ron, standing with a smug look on his face

“You two break up?” Ron asked, nodding in Luna and Harry's direction.

“What?” Hermione asked, confused slightly.

“You need someone to lean on?” Ron asked, sitting down next to her.

“Weasley, stand up.” Serge's voice echoed through the room once more. An odd calm surrounded the room. Harry looked to see fear in Hermione's eyes as she looked between Serge and Ron. “I hear you're good at chess, mind if I take a shot at the game.”

“In a minute,” Ron said.

“Go on Ron,” Harry said, standing up from his seat next to Luna. “I've got to talk with Hermione about a few things anyway. Basically about the classes we missed.” Ron nodded, but Harry noticed a slight glare in the boy's eyes before he left them. “Hermione, we need to talk.” He said this softly as a crowd began to form at the other end of the room. Crookshanks hopped up onto Luna's lap stopping her from moving.

“I know,” Hermione said, sighing deeply. “About this morning?”

“These last few days in fact,” Harry said, moving to sit next to her. “What happened on that day?”

“I think I should go,” Luna said standing up.

“No, you can stay, it might help to hear an objective side,” Hermione said, making a light joke. Harry looked at her, his eyes calm, but studious. She let out a sigh, knowing she had to begin.

“Remember the memory of me in the park?” Hermione asked. She did not care that Luna did not know. Once she started, she had to continue. “There is more, and…and…..and I can't stop thinking about it.” Harry wrapped his arms around her, giving her some strength to go through with the process. She closed her eyes, watching it reoccur in her mind.

“I hid underneath a tree Harry, trying to get out of the rain,” Hermione began. “I was so cold, and wet, that I huddled against the tree, trying to hide from the wind. I was still able to see the street, incase my parents came. But I could also see two men, standing apart from each other. I could not make out their faces, even with the lightning crashing around us. They pulled this large swords out and stood across from each other, in a stance liked you'd go into. The smaller of the men was attacked first. Every time the sword hit, I felt like I was going to be torn apart. Light….lightning seemed to hit with each attack. It got g-getting louder and bigger each time their swords hit. I tried closing my eyes,” Hermione said, shaking her head. Harry wrapped an arm around her, trying to give her some comfort. “But when I did not hear the crash of thunder, I opened them to see if they were gone. One of the man's head, the larger of the two, was in front of me, staring at me, Harry.” She turned to look at him, and fear swelled within her eyes. “He was staring at me, and the other man was laughing. The wind picked up again, and this time the lightning hit the man standing. He should have died Harry, but he kept laughing. He was laughing at the man's death. All I could do was stare back into those man's eyes as his head melted.” She shook her head as if to rid herself of an image. Harry could only hold her tighter as she began to cry one more.

“What happened next?” Luna asked. She was the first to speak after a few moments of silence excluding Hermione's quiet sobs.

“I-I-I screamed,” she was finally able to get out. “The evil man looked over me, the lightning still hitting him, and he laughed at me. All I remember of him were his dull blue eyes, and how they stood out, even without the lightning. Those eyes have haunted me for a long time. ” She was calm once more, and sounded almost ashamed of what she had said. She hung her head, wiping her eyes.

“The man's voice, from….” Harry's voice trailed off as he realized what he had just heard. Hermione's torment had started all over again, with that man's laughter. She nodded into his chest as he put his arms around her once more.

The three of them sat on the couch for the majority of the party, only leaving to enjoy some of the cake. Red and gold streams were being thrown randomly around the common room. By the nightfall, when a small buffet was served most of the students had cleared out, only to come back for the end of the night. Curfew was fast approaching though, and Serge began to systematically force people to go to be. The party was dying down like the fireplace, as the first years were sent up to their dormitories soon followed by the second and third years. Ron was walking over to them now, another curious look on his face.

“What happened?” He asked, sitting on the arm of the couch by Hermione. Hermione shook her head, pulling out of Harry's chest slightly.

“Nothing, just a bad dream I had not thought about in a while,” she said. She gave him a half-smile before relaxing once more in Harry's arms.

“Luna I think its best if you get back to your dormitory,” Serge said in a polite tone. She nodded, standing up from the couch. Both Harry and Hermione stood up as well, and she made the first move, reaching across and giving her a quick hug. Crookshanks moved around at their feet as the two girls shared the brief contact before Harry sweep the young blonde in a hug as well, this time fierce and promising. No matter what happened, she was now officially apart of his family, his younger sister.

“Thank you for letting me come,” Luna said as she pulled back from Harry. He smiled and looked at Ron.

“No problem, see you around, Luna,” Ron said. Harry could tell the words were forced, but did not say anything. He did not have to, Serge did it for him.

“You know, if you learn to treat woman with an edge more of respect, then you would not get dumped by them so often,” Serge said. Harry could not help but smirk at Ron's reaction. “And if you think of retorting, think twice. Whatever Guile has taught ain't good enough to take me on, chief.” Ron glared at Serge once more, but wisely did not say anything. “well, good night, see you two tomorrow.” He gave Harry a pointed look, to which he nodded back.

“Good night,” Hermione said, hopping off the couch. She gave Serge a hug quickly. “thank you again.”

“Just get some sleep,” Serge said, letting her go back to Harry. “I've good a master's in psychology if you ever want to talk about it Hermione.” With this he left them alone once more.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Harry asked. Hermione shook her head, relaxing finally after the long day. The fire crackled lightly as Harry felt her body grow heavier and breathing steadier. Tomorrow, answers to questions would come. He knew that, but that did not frighten him. It was the glare on Ron's face directed toward Harry as he left them only moments after Serge.

-->

A/N: Next chapter, I swear you're going to love it. This one's pretty much a plot explainer, but damn necessary. Serge will be doing a great deal of explaining. Here is where the crossover comes into play. I'm told Hermione is too OOC, well, I hope the last chapter explained a part of it. The other is the unconscious fact that will be explained by Serge in an upcoming chapter. Thank you and Read and Review. I'm Sorry, I meant to write that the next day was the Order meeting.

Also thank you to my beta Trumpetgirl0590. Thank you again for going over this for me.

Chapter 16:

Meddling Kid

“Daddy come quick/The Dreaming Tree has died/I can't find my way home/And there is no place to hide/The dreaming tree has died.” Dave Matthews Band

Morning came and went without problems. Ron avoiding them slightly, claming he was meeting another girl. Harry figured this was a good plan since Serge was taking them to meet with the Order. Hermione still did not know this and figured they were just going to visit Dumbledore like they had planned. Well, she was right, it was just they were going to meet a few more people than that as well.

“Come on Harry,” Hermione said, pulling him along the corridor. She did not want to be late for a meeting with the Headmaster, even if he was her great-grandfather.

“Relax, Hermione,” Harry said laughing slightly. “We're not going to be late.”

“How can you say that when you're walking at that pace?” She said, trying to pulling him even faster. Harry shook his head.

“You forget,” he simply said. Picking her up off her feet, he tapped into his lightning and took off down the hall at a speed that surprised her. He stopped about four feet in front of the gargoyle, or rather Hermione was set down at that point; Harry ended up crashing into the statue as he tried to stop.

“See, got you here on time,” he said groggily. Hermione stifled a laugh and glared at him as she helped him stand.

“Yes you did,” Hermione said. Harry swayed once as the room stopped spinning. The gargoyle opened up and Hermione helped Harry walk up the stairs; he still wobbled a bit as he walked but for the most part he was fine.

“Come in,” Dumbledore's voice came from the other side door. It opened inward, and Hermione tried to hide her surprise. The Order stood around, talking about random things. Tonks and Lupin were talking with Serge; Lupin did not seem happy about what Serge was saying, but Tonks seemed to understand. The Weasleys were in the Order were their, including Ron. She dismissed her question about that, for the one that was now forming as to why Guile was talking with Mister and Mrs. Weasley. Ron stood quietly to the side and did not move over to them when they entered.

“You two are early.” Dumbledore said matter-of-factly, causing everyone to turn and look at them.

“Told you I would get us here early,” Harry replied, sheepishly rubbing the bump on his head. “Are we ready?”

“Yes, this meeting of the Order of Phoenix has begun, everyone, please take a seat,” Dumbledore said. The room began to change and Hermione moved closer to Harry as it did.

The room's colorful equipment around them dissolved into a cornucopia of small maps. The room grew large and every attempted to stay on their feet as a large round table grew in the center of the now extending room. Chairs for everyone appeared and everyone seemed to know where to go to—minus Ron, Harry, and Hermione. Dumbledore took his seat at the head of the large table, signified by the large royal looking chair.

“We are here today, to determine the induction of three new members into the Order as well as address some rather important matters,” Dumbledore said, rising from his own seat. He waved his hand and a large white orb appeared at the center of the table, in it appeared to hold the world in its center. “According to our customs, one non-family member must sponsor the inductee, give a supporting speech, and then we will vote.” Everyone nodded, and Harry for the first time, realized that this must only be the members of the Order with the most influence.

“Then allow me to begin,” Guile said, standing from his position. He was the furthest from Dumbledore, and darkness seemed to surround him, despite ample lighting. “I wish to nominate Master Ronald Weasley into this little group's folds.” Harry watched for the reactions of everyone. The only one not happy by it, other than Mrs. Weasley, was in fact, Serge which wasn't a surprise either. There was some enmity between them that Harry could not understand. “Now, you all know Master Weasley. I have personally tutored him for the last few weeks, improving his fiery magical abilities. He has made great progress for one of such talents, but that is not why you need him. You need him because his mind is one of the most strategic that I have seen next to my own. You have the muscle and you have the brains, yet you fail to have the strategy necessary to fully draw into the war. Inside that man's mind,” Guile pointed at Ron, “is the chess board to win. He may not know the plays but he will learn them, whether in the confines of the teacher, or on the streets, he will learn them. But you have to cultivate this mind while it still is accepting. A child's mind is open to more doors, and more imaginative than an adult's. We have closed so many throughout our lifetimes that a child has not. That is Master Weasley's contribution: his finely tuned mind and imagination.” Guile said back down, looking rather pleased with himself.

“Objections?” Dumbledore said from his seat. Predictably only one hands rose up but it was not Mrs. Weasley's; it was Serge's. “Mister Thornton, your reasons.” Serge did not make eye contact, which would have involved raising his eyes off the globe at the center.

“I do not trust him. For his eyes hold a hate and fire that should be put out before he allows it to burn for much longer,” Serge said. “A man with that much hate in himself can only give into darkness after too long.” Serge's eyes rose to look at Guile then tactically retreated back to the globe. “That's all I have to say about that.” Dumbledore nodded, and would have continued had Moody not spoken up.

“Mrs. Weasley, time and time again, you have stated your reluctance, care to explain your reason's for allowing your son in now,” Moody asked. He held a small smile on his face, which looked more like a grimace.

“My boys have a way of getting involved no matter what I say,” Mrs. Weasley said from her seat. “Doctor Moody explained it to me that with the proper tutoring Ron would be able to expand his skills for chess as they were. I believe the only way for him to learn and appreciate the knowledge is if you does so from within our ranks.”

“Very well, any others oppose?” Dumbledore asked. There were no more objections. “Mister Ronald Weasley, please step forward.” Ron did so with a smug look on his face. “Place your hand on the orb.” The globe floated toward Ron. Ron did so and a bright light filled the room. “Welcome Mister Weasley to the Order of Phoenix.” The table expanded and a new chair next to Tonks appeared. He took his seat and Tonks stood up.

“I wish for Hermione to become a part of this,” Tonks said. Hermione had a shocked look on her face and looked at Harry quickly. He smiled at her, nodding before squeezing her hand. “There is not one of you that will not admit she is the brightest witch to enter Hogwarts since Harry's mother. No one here can question her intelligence and intuition. And if you think about rejecting her because she is a young girl, then you have another thing coming. She is one of the strongest witches in the school as well.” Hermione blushed at this.

“Objections?” Dumbledore asked. No one raised their hands. The process was repeated and Hermione took a seat next to Serge.

“That leaves one person,” Serge said standing from his seat. “I want Harry to be inducted into the Order and there is something I wish to say about some people's reluctance to let him be involved, but I won't, as there are women involved at the moment.” Unlike the others he began to move around as he talked, not making eye contact with anyone specific, with the exception of Guile, to whom he was given a nod. “I once brought up the question why this order was made. The answer was to defeat evil, in this case, Voldemort. Now, I ask now, who objects to allowing Harry into the Order?”

“Can he do that?” Mrs. Weasley asked, to which Dumbledore nodded.

“Objections please?” Serge said, raising his hands. “Mrs. Weasley, for one I know you object, you object to me being in this order. So tell me why do you object to Harry being a part of this?”

“He is too young,” she simply said. “He has not lived.”

“And your son has?” Serge countered. She glared at him, but took a defeated stance. “Now, this order was made to defeat your evil lord. Well, he believes the only person that can defeat him is Harry. Why would you keep him out of the loop in favor of a boy with a strategic sense of battle?” Ron's face grew red at the obvious insult. There definitely was enmity between the two, but Serge seemed to have started it all. “Now, I will say this, you do not let him in, you've lost your best man, and you've lost me. Because I'm going to follow him if I have to, to help ensure that we win. He is key, and it would be foolish to misplace the key.” Serge sat back down.

“Objections?” Dumbledore asked. There was a moment of silence, a long one at that, but no one raised their hands. “Very well, Harry, please,” He motioned toward the globe. Harry nodded, touching the globe. Instead of a white light enveloping the room, a small cylinder of light appeared on the top of the globe, glowing just as brightly as the light did for the others. Harry recoiled and stared at it for a moment. Murmurs ran through the room as Harry cautiously reached out and placed his hands in the light. It surrounded him, blinding him slightly

“Welcome,” a serene distinctly voice said. The world around him was gone. All he could see was white. There were no dimensions, only... Harry could not put a word to the world around him. “A brave one you are. So much of him I see in you.”

“Who are you?” Harry asked, turning around. He looked up and down, trying to find some sense of direction. “Where am I?”

“You are one step away from the end of time, child,” the voice said once more. “You shall be there soon, though. Great loss has filled your past. I fear that you will find loss again, but not true loss. The lost are always found, Harry.”

“Who are you?” Harry yelled this time. “How do you know my name?”

“My apologies,” the voice said. Harry turned around to see a woman approaching him with short blond hair, blue eyes, and what could be considered a sports bra, small shorts and matching vest. A small knife was on her hip, hanging low. “My name is Kid.” A bright light engulfed him and he heard the word echo through the place. “Kid. Kid.” Even with all the light, he still slipped into darkness.

* * * * *

“Kid, hey kid, wake up,” someone said. Harry felt someone slapping the side of his face a couple of times and opened his eyes. The world seemed way too bright and his head felt like lead. Serge was over him, trying to wake him up it seemed. “Easy, chief, easy.” Serge said, sitting back. Hermione took the opportunity to crush Harry in a hug, tears falling down her face.

“Have him drink this,” Guile's voice said from somewhere in the distance.

“What happened?” Harry managed to get out as a potion was placed upon his lips. He drank it, feeling the strength return to him. Wrapping his arms around Hermione he sat up, trying to comfort her.

“Well, you were knocked back to the door after you touched the globe,” Serge said, still crouched next to him. “You were unconscious for a few moments or that's what it seemed like.”

“What happened Harry?” Dumbledore asked. Everyone moved away, looking to the elder.

“I don't know, all I remember is that this woman said I was in the place before the end of time, whatever that meant.” Harry said, rubbing his head. Serge's eyes grew wide.

“What was her name?” Serge said, grabbing Harry his shoulders. “What was her name?”

“Kid.” Harry managed to get out before Serge stood up, a large smile growing on his face.

“I knew it, I knew it,” he said loudly. “She's alive!” He screamed, the room shaking slightly. Everyone covered their ears, surprised at how loud he was. He grabbed Guile by the shoulders and shook him. “She's alive. Schala; she's alive.”

“I know,” Guile said, showing a rare emotion by smiling. “I know.”

“She's alive!” Serge yelled once more joyously. “Thank you, Harry, thank you.”

“You're... welcome,” Harry said, finally regain his senses. He did not understand what just happened and honestly did not really want to.

“I think it is time you explained where you are from to everyone,” Dumbledore said, snapping Serge out of his emotionally high. Serge looked around, and almost sheepishly walked back to his seat, awaiting everyone to follow him lead.

“Well, someone once said the best place to begin is at the beginning,” Serge said once everyone was in their seats. “What I'm about to tell you never leaves this room, and if it does, you will be dead before you take another breath. I've spent the majority of my life fighting a fruitless battle, and you come out of it with some, how should I say this? Ah… evil things to show for it.”

He removed his right hand glove, and waved it toward the globe. Around them, the world began to change. The walls dissolved replaced but palm trees and a sandy beach. Salty air blew upon their necks and the sound of waves crashing was not too distant.

“You are going on a journey beyond sight and sound, beyond reason, a journey to Another World,” Serge said calmly. The world changed once more to a small village near by the sea. Bright colors and simple cottages built out of the palm wood or something close to it filled the village. A harbor could be seen in the distance with a small boat and young boys swimming and splashing each other. Young girls were showing off what appeared to be scales to each other by the pier as well. “Arni Village.” He whispered. “My home town. This is where our story begins. I'm open to questions at this point, as once I start the next part, it will not end for a while.”

“Where are you from?” Mrs. Weasley asked.

“Another time, another place, Another World,” Serge said with a small smile. He paused for a moment before speaking again, “Back to my story.” He waved his hand and time began to pass in the world. A wind blew through the town, winter settled down for a long nap, and a boat with two men, one looking like Serge stepped off of it. He appeared to be speaking with an older man, the other man's presumable a brother from their similar size, face was hidden. There was no sound beyond the crashing of the waves.

The Serge within the memory took off running and the memory followed him. Harry had come to believe that it was a memory for sure. Serge had the largest smile on his face possible and race through a forest, holding a small necklace in his hands. He bounded down a dirt road, and through a patch of greenery and colorful forest. No one had time to examine the plants for long, as Serge appeared on a winter scene of the beach from earlier. Harry finally had time to examine the place.

White sand was beneath their feet, untouched almost. The sea appeared to be a deep blue the further from shore one went, with white foam a building up at the edges. A woman was at the edge of the beach, where sand and water met for the first time. Harry felt his jaw drop. It was the woman, albeit younger, but the woman nonetheless from that white place. It was-

“Kid,” Serge said, reaching out and attempting to caress the memory's face. His hand slid through the woman, causing everyone to realize, despite all that was around them—it was still only an illusion. He turned his back and the memory continued. Serge embraced Kid, gave her a necklace, the necklace held in his hands. But as suddenly as time changed the previous time, it changed once more. Serge fell through Kid as she faded away, and the world around them turned dark and dreary.

No longer did the water look clear, but now it was polluted and poisoned. The air was filled with stench, the sand covered in black soot, and the trees around them a deep brown, not a vibrant green. And at this point Harry thought they were lucky for the fact that there was no sound. Serge was on his knees, screaming into the air in pain and anger. He finally rose to his feet, and tore through the dead forest. At the edge, he met the man they had fought in the cave, or rather Serge had fought in the cave. Serge drew a double bladed sword as Flea floated above the ground. Both advanced on each other with fury; Serge's swordsmanship was most likely unmatched, but Flea's magical powers seemed to be more draining on him than the battle was on Serge.

Halfway though the battle however, another man appeared, and Hermione could not hold back her scream. A blue man, with nothing on but loose pants and a red belt stood before them. His skin was a pale blue, similar to his eyes. He withdrew a large katana, similar to Harry's only not a refine. Serge was winded, but did not retreat. He fought with such fury toward those men that it was a wonder what they did to him. Yet the man before them had more grace, more elegance with his attacks.

Harry took a chance and glanced at Serge who held his right arm with care as this memory played. Looking back at the fight, he understood why. This was the man they'd met in the woods. This was Slash.

Serge stumbled in the memory, over a log as Slash went onto the offensive. He held his swords up in one hand as if to block the coming blow. Slash gave an evil grin to him, and Harry put an arm instinctively around Hermione. This was the man from her nightmares, her past. Holding her tightly, he watched in horror as to what would come. The blade on Slash's sword swung down all right—right through Serge's hand.

“Enough!” Serge yelled waving his right hand. The memory disappeared, but not before he saw the fear within Serge's eyes, riding shotgun with the hate. “You know now of how I lost my hand. So let me tell you about the rest of my world!” He spoke his hate on his tongue.

“Calm down,” Guile said, standing from his chair.

“Your old memories return, Magus, and then you tell me how it feels.” Serge said. He turned his back to them, waving his hand once more.

“The world you saw is unlike the one you stand in,” Serge began, no facing anyone though his voice was clear. “Built on possibilities, is a phrase that often came to mind when I lived there. The world's magic was dying. Wizards were dying off. Magic as what it was, was going to be destroyed within a generation or two when I was born. Technology was fast taking root, but the resistance was growing stronger. My grandfather was a proud teacher of what you called magic. He led my brother to believe in it but I never did. That was until that day, the final memory you saw. Everyone is a believer when faced with their own faults.

“You all take magic for granted, where it is mystical in my home world,” there was a pause in his speech followed by a sigh. “I've come to revere what you think is common place. Life was never taken for granted not even before the Dark General showed up. Now, I'm praying I get back there to help my friends and family I abandoned for here. Before you ask I mean I left, I ran I was scared.” Another pause and followed by a sigh. “There are things that I will tell you here, that you are not to utter the words to another man or woman, or child or anything, so long as you live. Even beyond death, I ask to bind your souls from speaking of time's greatest kept secret.” He looked back at them.

“There is a way, beyond time-turners because that is not changing time so to speak, but there is a way to travel through time, to the point where the river splits into two and follow it down another path,” Serge said, waving his hand once more. A large river appeared at the top of the room, flowing on the ceiling. “Not, although I never understood how, what I did was jump from my river,” A figure appeared on one edge of the river. He jumped in and began to swim, across the river, only to have it part into two rivers and be carried down stream before he could get to the middle. “I was taken to the end of time. And thrown back into the river, but it was not my river, rather yours.” The figure appeared on the other side of the river this time, now swimming upstream. “Damn near killed me when I did that, just about killed me when I left.

“I appeared in Vietnam where your Serge had just died. I watched it occur, scared beyond my soul at this strange, yet inviting world. My entire life has been filled with war, and that was what I found here,” Serge said, walking to the table. “There is more, but you do not need my life story to know this. This war, this war against evil spans time, spans space, spans worlds. I think Guile you said there are some evils in this world that may be different in ours.”

“That is correct,” Guiles said, his face hidden in darkness.

“Well to you there is only Voldemort, whereas we have this Dark General, and Lynx,” Serge said, waving his hand. Anger filled his face as he spoke again. New images filled the room. “The Dark General has one man that works underneath him, Lynx. That monster of a man controls three other sergeants: Ozzie, who control the other two as well, Flea, and Slash. That bastard, the General and his family have cost mine more misery that we could have imagined.” An image of a man against the backdrop of a large flag appeared. Slowly and surround him appeared to be soldiers. The flag itself bore a similar Dark Mark, yet it was the man, the Dark General that scared them. It was Arthur Weasley. Silence filled the room.

“You're a liar,” Ron said, standing from his chair. Guile stood as well, moved toward Ron, attempting to keep the two apart. “My father would never do anything like that.”

“Tell me different Lynx.” Serge growled lowly.

“Calm down,” Guile said, turning to face Serge. “That is not him.”

“It is, or he will turn into him,” Serge said harshly, taking a step closer. “The same fire in his eyes is the one that has haunted me for the last twenty three years. He had never stopped following us, even when we try to leave.”

“I'm not afraid of you,” Ron said. His hand burst into reddish orange flames and he stood his ground.

“Ah, but child, you should,” Serge said, taking a step forward. “What I once was, the kind man I would have been to everyone is gone, thanks to the likes of you,” The picture dissolved into the walls once more and was the stone ones once more. “I've seen your fire, burned by your jealous and hate for those around you. You do not know how blessed you are, Ronald, and I've watched you for the last month, I've seen how you look at everyone else, seeing what they have that you don't.”

“Shut it,” Ron said, squeezing his fist.

“I must be correct,” Serge said, turning his back to Ron. He waved his right hand and Ron was lifted off the ground, and fell onto his back. “Don't do anything stupid Ronald. You'd lose.”

“I would not!” Ron said, getting back on his feet.

“Ronald, sit down this instant!” Mrs. Weasley said. But Ron did not appear to hear her.

“Serge, I challenge you to a wizard's duel.” Ron said, taking a step forward. Serge looked back him as he headed toward the stairs.

“You're not worth it child.” Serge said as he continued to walk up the stairs.

“You have no choice in this matter,” Moody said, rising from his seat. “He has challenged you, whether or not he is worth it, you must duel him, under our laws.” Serge looked at Moody then to Dumbledore. The older man had not said anything for a while.

“He is correct Serge, and you did bring this upon yourself,” Dumbledore said, still from his seat. “However as you were challenged you may choose the form, the means, and the stipulation.” Serge nodded, then turned and walked away. Before anyone could say anything to him however, he yelled back up the stairs.

“A duel tonight. Quidditch pitch. You will bring only your wand, your axe and your broom.” Serge said. “I've got some personal business to attend to.”

“How could you let a man like that into the order?” Mrs. Weasley asked. Her anger was present in her tone.

“Because he and I both are not from here, yet share the souls of men in your lives that have come and are now gone,” Guile said, standing from his chair. “I will continue this story where Serge has left it off. Although, there will be no colorful backdrops.

“Now, Serge has fought the good fight since he was young. That man you saw earlier was his brother, another freedom fighter. The Dark General is a pawn of Fate, a vindictive mistress with only her wants in mind. He was given power the corrupted him and his family, well, all but three. Yet this power has been destroying Serge's family for quite a few years. We have been gone almost twenty years, Serge longer than me by about six years or so. However where he came through, I actually died and merged with my body in this realm as his soul died.” He shared a look with Moody who nodded. “My other self was attacked by Death Eaters, killed in midst of saving a young family. I entered your realm as I still have unfinished business in mine. I suspect that I will not die should the business end either.”

The meeting continued without discussion of the other world. Harry listened carefully, realizing that the three of them would not play a vital role. Sitting back in his chair, he let a frown cover his face. They still thought of them as children, when he was the one who saw more death and destruction than most of them. He knew what he was up against. Well, he would know it they taught him. Serge, Lupin, and slowly Dumbledore were teaching him what he needed to know for this never-ending battle. Hermione saw his frown, and surreptitiously picked up his hand, not caring what the others thought.

“Sir, what are our jobs?” Hermione asked, voicing Harry's question. She had come to the same conclusion on her own, and knew Harry had reached it long before.

“What do you mean?” Dumbledore asked, a twinkle in his eyes.

“Why are we a part of the order?” Hermione rephrased the question. “What can we offer you? Because if there are no jobs for us, we might as well not be apart of this.”

“You are apart of this Order, isn't that enough?” Snape said scathingly.

“No, it isn't,” Harry said, staring down Snape. “You all know as well as I do that I am a part of this war. If you give that crap about me being too young, well sod off. I'm out of here, and I will not make any contact with anyone about Order business.”

“How dare you speak to us like that?” Snape said, rising from his seat. “You know nothing about the war.”

“Do I?” Harry asked, standing up from his chair as well. “What happened my first year? Quirrell tried to kill me to get the Philosopher's Stone. Second Year? Riddle tried to kill me with a basilisk. We all know what happened third, fourth, and fifth year, correct?”

“You foolish child, you do not understand what is going on.” Snape said, his voice low.

“I have been Riddle's target since I was one,” Harry said. “And right now, I still am his target. Did you fail to remember this summer, or rather this week? Riddle has been trying to kill me, having his soldiers do the dirty work. I'm going to rephrase what Serge said earlier. You either treat me as an equal or sod off.” With that Harry began to walk away from the table, he heard a commotion behind him. Rather than turning around to look, he continued out the door.

He had not gone a few feet when Hermione was next to him, holding his hand. Ron wasn't too far behind her, confused look on his face.

“What was that Harry?” Ron asked him as they walked away.

“I fed up with not being in charge of my life,” Harry said, turning around to look at Ron. “Dumbledore has controlled my life for a long time, and it's taken a while, but I've forgiven him. Now, back here, people are controlling my life once more. In a few weeks, I'm going to be an emancipated adult. Dumbledore, Serge, and I had discussed this while you were talking with your sister.” Hermione nodded. She knew he had talked to Serge, but not Dumbledore too. “It's for the contract, Hermione.”

“But why did you explode in there? We are a part of it all,” Ron said, still confused.

“No Ron, they were just having us there to appease our wants. We were nothing more than just… just..” Harry could not find the word for it. “The only reason we were there was so they could say we were involved without giving us any information. I for one, want an active part in the Order, they assigned everyone jobs but us Ron.”

“Yeah, but they'll eventually give us something to do,” Ron said, trying to reason out his logic.

“Maybe you're right,” Harry said running a hand through his hair. “It's just that this war is between me and him, and they are the ones calling all of the shots, not me. I need to know what's going on and know that I'm helping in some way. Even if they said there was nothing for me to do at the moment, that would have been fine, but they completely skipped us when speaking, like we weren't even there.”

“Okay,” Ron said. He got the right idea and changed the subject. “So are you two going to root me on tonight?” He asked hopefully.

“I don't know,” Harry said, shaking his head. He did not like the idea of his best friend, and one of the people he called his friend duel each other.

“Why not?” Ron asked. “You going to cheer him on?” Anger filled his voice slightly.

“Ron, I think the idea is childish and deplore it,” Harry said, trying to remain calm. “What do you have to gain by dueling him? Nothing.”

“I have my family's honor to uphold,” Ron said firmly.

“By making an ass out of yourself?” Harry asked. Ron only seemed to get angrier. “Have you ever won in a duel against Guile?” He shook his head, but kept his glare. “Than what makes you think you can fight against Serge and win? I've fought him countless times Ron, and only recently I've come close to winning. The point is, that I've lost every time. Every single time.”

“I'll beat him,” Ron said turning his back on them

“You doing this for family honor, or because you just can't face the fact that maybe he was right?” Harry asked loudly. Ron turned back. “We've fought once before Ron, it's taken a long time to start rebuilding, now the question you should ask yourself is you really want to risk our friendship over something like this.” Ron then turned and looked at Hermione.

“He is right; is your pride worth our friendship?” Hermione asked. Picking up Harry's hand once more, she began to lead in another way back to the towers. She and Harry needed some time to themselves at the moment. What scared her was she could have sworn that the brother, Serge's brother, looked like James.

-->

A/N: Oh, y'all are going to hate me for this upcoming chapter. Just you wait… Please read and review… thank you.

Chapter 17:

Ending of an Era

“Well, send a telegram to hell, they succeeded.” - Kevinn Edwards

The duel was set for the night at the Quidditch pitch. Harry could hardly believe that either of his friends were going through with it, especially Ron. That boy was more stubborn than he and Hermione were combined. He didn't know if he wanted to even watch, but knew he had to. He would be there to give Ron support even after their small fight earlier. There were some things more important than winning. Like friendships. Harry had worked at restarting his with friend.

“Come on, Harry,” Hermione said. This time it was she who was tugging on his arm. He had taken to a snail's pace as they made their way to the Quidditch pitch. “You finally decide to support Ron, and you're moving too slow.” Harry gave in a moved faster as they made their way. He still was anxious about the upcoming fight, in fear for Ron's life and what Serge's anger would do to him. Hermione gave him one last look before continuing her pull. She shared his same fears.

The Quidditch pitch was empty, with the exception of Ron, his parents and brothers, Guile, Snape and Dumbledore. Some other members of the order were around as well, seeming to be waiting for Serge. Hermione stopped, but Harry pulled her, knowing they were here now, might as well see it to the end.

“Where is he?” Ron asked. He wore his Quidditch robes, with wand in his right hand, broom in his left and his axe strapped to his back.

“Patience is a virtue, child,” Guile said. The man's feet were on the ground once more, but his dark cloak against the darkening sky made his hair stand out even more. Harry tried to remain discrete as he walked over to them. “There is much to be learned in a setting sun.”

“Well, I just want to get this over with, where is he?” Ron questioned once more.

“I'm your huckleberry,” Serge's voice said. “Well, I see your here, step back please. Harry, come into the light, both Guile and I know you're here with Hermione.” Guile turned and smirked at them, giving Harry the idea that he let them play that charade longer. The Weasley's looked shocked at this.

“What are we waiting for?” Ron asked, turning around, trying to find the source of the voice.

“Listen to your mentor,” Serge cryptically said. A few more moments of silence passed as the sun finally sank below the horizon. “The time has come, Ronald Bilius Weasley. You have issued this duel,” Serge's voice now spoke with a rougher tone to it, a battled hardened one. “I accept. Your weapons of choice?”

“My wand, my axe, and my broom,” Ron said loudly.

“I choose my guns,” Serge said stepping into the light that grew around the Quidditch pitch. He wore what appeared to be a sleeveless brown hit-man's jacket. He wore two pistols around his waist, his right hand on one already. “Then let us begin.” With his left hand, he drew a pair of sunglasses out from his jacket and placed them on. “Let's dance.”

Ron slid his wand into his belt and mounted his broom. Holding his axe in his right hand, Ron guided the broom toward Serge at a terrifying speed. Harry watched in horror behind a protective dome Serge must have built. The axe hung against the ground, although Ron appeared as though that's what he wanted. A streak of dirt was rising from the ground, growing larger and longer as Ron dragged his axe cross the pitch. Serge stood his ground, hand the pistol over his left hip. At the last moment, when Serge appeared no more than a foot away from Ron, he rolled out of the way.

Ron lifted his axe up and did a sharp turn, making only a slight kick of dirt as he did so. Serge stood ready, his hand on the pistol once more. Ron came around again, attempting the same style of attack. But this time, Serge drew his pistol and fired a single shot, hitting Ron's axe. The sudden impact caused him to spin out of control backward.

“Bastard,” Ron said. Harry could see the anger increasing, as his fiery hair began to stand on end. He felt Hermione grip his arm tighter, but that did not matter. The determined smile on Serge's face told him enough. There would only be one person to leave the Quidditch pitch on their feet.

Ron lifted his axe and pointed it at Serge, once he was in control again. The blades turned bright red, then almost white as they increased in heat. He let go of the broom and swung the axe, creating two large arcs of fire. The air around them heated up, and Harry could tell Serge was feeling it as well as he moved, attempting to avoid the flames. He rolled to his left, only to have the arcs follow him.

“What?” He said, looking back at the arcs, which were catching up to him as he ran. He sounded out of breath as he raced away from the arcs.

“What's the matter?” Ron asked, a large grin growing maniacally on his face. “Too much heat for you old man.”

“Old man? Old man!” Serge said, skidding to a halt. He turned around and replaced his pistol in his holster. He reached behind his back, and pulled off what Harry would have to call as a sawed off shotgun. “I ain't old, chief. And that is one stage you may not reach.” He spun as the two arcs attempted to pass around him. He continued to walk toward Ron in what now as a sea of fire. The arcs had disappeared, but the burning entrails were more than enough to start the field ablaze.

Ron face turned from panic to determine as the flames around them grew. Placing his axe on his back, he drew his wand and raised it. He muttered something Harry could not catch and he had to watch in horror as the a large spiral of flames grew from the ground. Serge however did not change from present course of action. He held the shot gun in his hands, steady. The closer he got to Ron, the larger the tornado grew.

“You have a choose Ronald,” Serge yelled as the sound of tornado prevented anything less. “You can submit here, or we finish this.”

“I will not give in!” Ron yelled. With his wand he released the tornado, allowing it to continue forward.

“No, Ron,” Harry said, pounding his fist against the barrier. Serge was in control, there was no way around. Even with the glasses, the smirk on his face told Harry that he expected Ron to do this. He tried to get Ron's attention, but his stubborn friend was paying attention only to the matters at hand. Harry watched the world slow down around them.

A single shot echoed through the pitch, and slowly, he watched the tornado of flames disappear as Ron's face turned from one of pride to one of shock. He began to fall off his broom, and the wards around them flickered, Harry raced forward, tapping into his lightning in order to catch Ron. The smoke was still clearing from Serge's gun when the world speed up once more, Ron was in Harry's hands, but his chest was covered in tiny piece of metal. He was gritting his teeth in attempting to hold back his screams and tears. Serge shook his head and turned around to leave. He replaced the shotgun behind his back as he walked away.

“I call upon my right as his second to finish this duel,” Harry said, placing Ron back on the ground. With a wave of his hand he began to float over to where Dumbledore and the Weasley's were.

“What?” Serge asked, turning back around to look at him.

“I wish to finish this duel,” Harry said. He raised his hand once more. “Accio katana!” He waited a few moments before the blade was in his hand.

“This is not between you and me,” Serge said shaking his head.

“You are holding something back from me, something I should know,” Harry said in a low voice. “Too many people have done that and others have suffered, I will not let it happen again.”

“Very well,” Serge said. He waved his hand and before anyone, including Hermione who was attempting to get to Harry at the moment, could stop them, the dome was up once more. “You win, you get your answers. Not all, but enough to quench your thirst.”

“Will you tell me more about this other world?”

“Another World,” Serge said. “Think of this place as the Home World, mine is Another World. And yes.”

“Very well.” Harry said, going into his defensive stance.

“You know the chances are slim that you'll win,” Serge said as they began to circle one another. “I trained you.”

“Yes, but there are some things I learned on my own,” Harry said calmly. His eyes were watching Serge's, aware of the man's movements as well, but he kept contact with the man's eyes, despite hiding behind the glasses.

“Like what?” Serge asked conversationally. With a quick flick of the wrist, or at least that was how it appeared to Hermione, Serge had pulled his pistol out of the holster and fired upon Harry. Even quicker were Harry's movements. He deflected the bullet with his katana, the ping echoing loudly. He stood his ground though.

“Like that,” Harry said smirking.

“Like that,” Serge repeated. Hermione watched as the two of then circled one another again. This time, however, instead of only one gun, Serge pulled out them both. Firing off the rounds, Hermione could not help but let her jaw drop at the sight, or lack there of, of Harry's speed. He deflected them all easily, without breaking a sweat. At one point he felt a slight sting, but thought nothing of it; instead, he was determined not to show fear.

“Good, good,” Serge said, laughing almost. “You're improving.”

“Well, I stride for the best,” Harry said chuckling as long. They soon fell into the routine of their training. Serge had just begun to send rubber bullets at him at theses speeds, and Harry guessed he had just upgraded to the next level. “You going to get any faster?”

“Well, no,” Serge said as his right hand went to his waist, or rather, his arm, since his hand kept on firing. However, the white glow appeared, holding another pistol. “But we'll just add a bit to it.” Harry grinned, though inwardly he was scared, he could not keep this up much longer. Two was easy, he had done that before, but three had begun to make it difficult. Making his move, he began to slowly, but gracefully move forward.

Hermione watched them, reminded of one of the street entertainers she saw when she was in France. It looked like they were juggling almost. Harry's swift movements of deflection nearly matched Serge's assaults. As one made it more difficult, the other stepped forward and forced the pressure on the other. This is exactly what was happening now. Serge had forced Harry to work harder, so Harry began to walk forward, knowing that Serge had said he would only use his guns.

“Mind if we talk while doing this?” Serge asked, waving his right arm once more. Hermione watched as the noise from the pitch disappeared. She scowled as she began to wonder was going on.

“Why not?” Harry said, getting within several feet of the man.

“I don't trust the Weasley's, especially the mother, as you can tell,” Serge said, casually. They both spoke in conversational tones, like they were next to each other, but with all the noise around them, Harry was surprised he could hear Serge. “She coddles her boys too much.”

“I know what you mean,” Harry agreed. “I doubt that if you weren't here, she'd have tried to hide some things from me. Ron was barely able to get into the Order anyway. Ginny is normal because of an episode with Riddle.” He paused for a moment in speaking, his arms still moving rapidly. “She does not like you much.”

“Well, the feeling is mutual,” Serge said. His breath became a bit heavier as he backed up slightly. “See, she is the one that has caused the greatest damage to my family in Another World. She controls the courts and when my father was tried for treason, which he had taken no part in, she completely forwent the trial and hung him in the street. That sealed my fate, and I blame her for everything afterwards. She does not understand everything, and only wishes to protect her young. Well in honesty she had failed for the most part, and she is over compensating for it.”

“Tired yet?” Harry asked, getting closer still.

“Well, I figure I'm going to change plans a bit.” Serge quickly put all the pistols back in their holsters and pulled out the shotgun. However instead of firing, he ran forward at Harry, seizing the moment. The attack caught Harry's surprise, hit his jaw, and he fell over as he failed to dodge. “Not so fast anymore are you?” Serge said, taking several swings at Harry as he attempted to roll away. Harry held back his laughter. No matter the outcome of this duel, he still had his friends. Serge understood, and knew that he had to defend Ron's honor, just like Ron had to defend his father's.

“Well, don't need to be fast all the time,” Harry said. He found his opening and kicked Serge's feet out from underneath of him. Both of the men were back up on their toes, ready once more. This time however, Harry was on the offensive. Serge held his shotgun with both hands, blocking Harry's assaults with his katana.

Hermione watched as the scene changed once more. Harry was now on the offensive, and there seemed very little that Serge could do to stop it. Although his attacks were not specifically hard or powerful, they were coming at an alarming rate and from what she could tell, the shotgun looked like it would break in half soon. But neither man looked angry; on the contrary, both of them looked like they were having fun, serious fun, but nevertheless fun. Maybe that was why Ron had failed. Mrs. Weasley had Ron taken immediately to the hospital wing, although Dumbledore told her there was no immediate danger.

Harry swung down hard this time, slicing the shotgun in half. Serge stumbled backward at the force, holding both pieces of the gun in his hands. Harry placed his katana at Serge's throat, almost threatening him to finish the job. Serge nodded lightly, and a smile broke out on his face as Harry pulled back the katana. The wards were down, and Harry had just enough sense to drop the katana as he turned and caught Hermione running into his arms.

“You fought well,” Serge said, holding out his hand.

“I had a good teacher,” Harry said, shaking it once. “Remember you promised, and I want Hermione there as well.” Serge nodded, and Harry finally allowed himself to feel the pressure he put on his body. His arms felt like lead, as did his feet. He began to feel light headed as well. He did his best to keep his arms wrapped around Hermione, but as the moments passed quickly, he felt his body sliding to the floor, with a surprised Hermione as well.

She clung to his body desperate, and despite knowing the somewhere Harry was okay, but that part was deep inside of her, and right now, she needed to know immediately that he was okay, that he was safe and that he was uninjured.

“Relax, he's fine,” Serge said as Hermione began to frantically look over Harry's exhausted body. She came to his right arm, and pulled back, surprised at the wetness. Red sweat was on her fingertips, and it was more red then sweat.

“You bastard,” Hermione screamed, shrugging off the hand Serge laid on her. She moved so she was over his shoulder and held in gently in her arms. Blood was coming out of it quickly, and she placed her hand over it gently. She felt his body wince at the slight touch, but kept it constant, letting her tap into her “inner water” as McGonagall called it.

This water often came out frozen in the form of offensive magic, but the healing waters were where she really specialized. The water lightly dropped from her hands, and almost immediately, the effects were seen. The blood, both caked and new was being washed away, and the wound itself was healing. She smiled lightly as the bullet hold disappeared, and the bullet was washed away with the water.

She stood up now, with accusatory eyes on Serge. “You hurt him!” She screamed.

“We were dueling, he could have killed me,” Serge said, taking a step back. “I could have killed Ron, these things are common place in wizard dueling.” Hermione turned around and kneeled back by Harry's side, trying to help his strength with the magical water she now possessed. Harry's eyes opened once more, and Hermione felt her body relax finally as he sat up, awkwardly. “You're alright.” She said, as he rubbed his forehead.

“Yeah, but we need to get inside,” Harry said. Hermione looked up to see Dumbledore standing around them. Before Harry could say anything else, he felt a sense of pain too strong to handle overcome him. White flashes filled his mind as the pain increased. No matter how much he felt Hermione's healing touch, something felt like it was trying to burn its way into his mind.

“Hello Potter,” a voice said.

“Riddle,” Harry thought over the pain. The picture of a glowing red snake came to him mind, crawling through a darkened tunnel. “Just like you to come at me on your yellow-belly.

“The end is near, Potter,” Voldemort said. The snake was getting closer and glowing brighter. “You're tired, relax, there is no reason to worry. I'll take care of everything.”

“Your wr-wr-wrong,” Harry struggled to say. Hermione and Dumbledore exchanged glances. She was holding him in her arms, trying to calm him and relax his tense body. “No!” He screamed, and his grip on Hermione's hand would have been painful without her healing ice encompassing both of their hands. Clouds began to surround them. “Get out of my head!” Harry screamed. Thunder crackled in the background. Hermione's grip began to grow even tighter on his hand.

“Hermione, concentrate on Harry.” Serge's voice said. She could not see him, but knew he was nearby. “He needs you right now. This storm will pass, as all things in life must, but you must keep him grounded. Keep him here.” Hermione nodded as another thunderbolt crashed.

“Give in, Harry, it'll be over soon,” the voice said once more.

“No,” Harry shook his head once more. “NO!” He screamed. The storm turned volatile, and the bolts of lightning grew closer. In the distance, she could see them touching the ground. Still, she had to fight her fears; besides she did not think she could undo the ice that held their hands together now.

“I won't hurt them,” the voice said. Harry shook his head, knowing the word to come: “much.”

“Aaargggh!” Harry screamed. A crash of watched as the lightning bolt hit miles away and waited for the crash of thunder, it never came. Hermione had no expected another bolt of lightning before the crash, but it came before anyone could have a response. The bolt hit Harry directly over his heart, making him jerk into the air and his screams of pain grew even louder.

“Don't touch him,” Dumbledore said as Serge made a move to restrain Harry. Heavy rain began to pour down now, as Hermione pumped her skills in short, yet powerful bursts to counter the lightning. Harry looked like he was immense pain, his teeth appeared to be rattling and his grip on her hand had now grown painful. The bolt continued, and melted through the ice connection, but neither of them let go. Hermione did her best to keep her magical healing going, but she felt the drain upon her body mounting.

“Scared Harry?” the voice asked. “You should be. Cause before you die, your precious goes first.”

“NO!” Harry screamed once more. The bolt broke off and an unearthly scream filled the air. It wasn't Harry's though; his breathing though labored had begun to calm. No, the scream came from elsewhere.

A moment of silence followed the extended scream. The ice had melted from their hands, living them dry almost. Hermione opened her eyes and finally took a good look at Harry. Burns covered his body, ranging from minor to third. Tears welled up in her eyes and slowly, she moved her palms over his hands, touching the worst of the burns. The redness and blisters melted into the skin, giving it back its tanned tone.

“Good job Hermione,” Dumbledore said softly. “Best to get him back inside though. The storm is only beginning.” Hermione looked around her. The sky was clear once more and there did not appear to be any more dangerous clouds.

“I'll fix up the pitch,” Serge said, stepping away. Dumbledore levitated Harry onto a conjured stretcher, similar to the one that Ron was taken in on. Hermione held onto Harry's hand, and was only too pleased to feel him tighten his limp grip. Relaxation filtered through her body, and she could not keep the smile off of her face.

“He fought remarkably well,” Dumbledore said after they had walked in silence. Hermione looked up at the professor. “But I must say, that your skills are even more so.” Hermione blushed and began to count the stone tiles. “I've always seen healing as a more civilized act than the duels, though I myself was never proficient in it. However your natural gift has grown a great deal since the summer. I must say, that points will be award once Harry gets back inside for your job out here today.”

“Thank you sir,” Hermione said, blushing. She went back to gazing at the ground as they walked on silently.

Once they arrived at the hospital wing, Madame Pomfrey took Harry into her care immediately commenting on Harry's remarkable recovery rate. Once again Hermione began to blush as Dumbledore explained what she had done. Looking around she could see Ron sitting up, a bandage over his chest spotted lightly with blood. Only Mrs. Weasley had left and almost immediately she was over by them, her face bright red.

“How could you let a mad man like that into the Order?” She screamed. Dumbledore stood calmly, his face void of any sentiment or twinkle. “He nearly killed my son.”

“Only because your son was foolish enough to go about this endeavor,” Guile said, floating in from the shadows. Everyone, except Dumbledore and Harry, jumped slightly at his approach. “I've been training with your son for the last few months, and I knew there was a chance that he would not survive this battle. Had it not been for Harry's actions, he would not have.”

“What did Harry do?” Ron asked, groggily.

“He took your place as your second,” Guile said, walking over to Harry's bed. “From his body language, he did not approve of this duel, Ronald, but you were his friend, that was more important to him.”

“He fought for me?” A disbelieving look came across his face.

“Yes Ronald and I don't think Serge wished to fight you,” Guile said walking over to him. “I too saw similarities to the man Serge called you yesterday, however, you still have a choice. Pride is a horrible sin. You have wallowed within her reach too long. However Envy has held you much longer.”

“Yes sir,” Ron said. His eyes became downcast, but Hermione did not miss the hint of anger within.

“Now, how is the patient doing?” Guile said, walking back over to them. Madame Pomfrey glared at him.

“Fine, now just let me work,” she said, moving over to Harry's side.

“Nonsense, the boy is fine,” Guile said. “Unconscious, but fine. You have a magnificent healer on your hands Madame Pomfrey.” Guile's feet lifted from the ground and he floated back to the shadows. “Don't let it go to waste.”

Madame Pomfrey began to mumble to herself as she tended to what remained of Harry's wounds. She however seemed satisfied with Hermione's work and left without saying another word. Though she may not have meant to show it, Hermione could tell she had been worried for Harry, a frequent patient within her care. In a few moments, Luna appeared as well, a shocked and scared look on her face. Hermione got up from her seat next to Harry and walked over to her.

“What happened?” Luna asked. Hermione did her best to comfort the young Ravenclaw.

“Ron was in a duel against Serge, Harry took his place,” Hermione managed to get out through her own tears.

“But what about the storm?” Luna said. Her tears were noticeable as well as Dumbledore assisted them over to Harry's bedside.

“He…he…came into Harry's mind, we think,” Hermione said taking up Harry's hand. She shuddered as the memory ran through her again. Luna hugged her tightly as her tears threatened to spill.

After a moment or two of silence, Luna spoke once more. “What was the lightning on the field then?”

“Harry—he took several bolts of lightning to his chest,” Hermione said. She rubbed his hand gently. “He's fine though now.”

“Good,” Luna said, moving to the other side of the bed. “You healed him?” Hermione nodded as Luna picked up his other hand. “Then there is nothing to be worried about. He'll wake up soon and all this will be behind us.”

“No,” Harry said, groggily. He attempted to sit, but nearly fell off the bed as he did so. Luna and Hermione got over the shock, helped him sit up against the pile of pillows. “It's not over….” His voice was slurred and thick and his eyes appeared heavy.

“Relax Harry,” Hermione said, pushing him back slightly. “You need your rest.”

“It's not over,” he said slightly louder. “He's planning something, something big.”

“You're delusional mister Potter,” Madame Pomfrey said, coming over to his side once more. “Drink this, and you'll feel better in the morning.”

“Don't tell me `I'll feel better in the morning,'” Harry said, pushing the goblet of the way. It clattered against the once clean floor, the potion splattering. “I know what I felt, what I saw!”

“There will be no yelling in my infirmary,” Madame Pomfrey said firmly.

“Then let me leave!” Harry yelled at her once more. “I'm fine, Hermione healed; now let me leave. I've got to talk to Dumbledore”

“Relax Harry,” Hermione said attempting to calm him down.

“I will not relax,” Harry snapped. “I've got to talk to Dumbledore.” Hermione flinched slightly, and only then did he let his anger subside. “There is more at stake that any of you know.” Hermione nodded, turning away from his slightly.

She tried to hold back her tears. She did not expect him to yell at her like that. She knew what was at stake, what may happen at the final battle. She would be there for him, no matter what his mood.

“I'm sorry,” Harry said, shaking his head. He knew she still was experiencing something that he could not understand. Maybe it was a woman thing. All he knew was he had overreacted to her. He drew his arms around her.

“Just don't do it again please?” Hermione asked, with pleading eyes. A fear had overcome when he did that, yet she had no rational reason for it. None. All she could think was... the thought was lost to her as she tried to regain it. All she knew was she afraid for that half-second, and that half-second hurt more than anything. She had never been afraid of Harry before, never.

Harry nodded, pulling her closer. Something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong. What had he done; he knew he should not have snapped at her, but still, there something worse going on.

Dumbledore came back into the room after leaving momentarily. He walked over to Harry, a small smile on his face, but there was no happiness in his eyes. “Glad to see you up and about Harry.” He sat down in the chair Hermione had occupied only moments before.

“Me too,” Harry said, keeping Hermione near. “Hermione, can I speak to Dumbledore for a bit on my own?” She nodded, but did nothing to move out of his arms.

“Hermione, lets go get some books for you two to study from,” Luna said, trying to prompt out another response from her. Hermione nodded, but did nothing to move.

“Hermione, dear, Harry and I are going to discuss in length what he must do within the next coming weeks in preparation of the final battle,” Dumbledore said, leaning forward in his seat. “I think we both would appreciate you finding some material for not only him, but for the students with the DA as well.” Hermione finally looked out of his chest. She nodded and kissed his cheek. Reluctantly she let Harry go.

“I'll come find you in the library once I'm done,” Harry said, squeezing her hand. She nodded, though there was weariness in her eyes. “It'll be okay love.” She nodded once more, leaned over him and gave him a strong passionate kiss.

“Please, don't take him from me,” Hermione said to Dumbledore. “I feel like I already lost him once.” She whispered this last part into Dumbledore's ear as she gave him a goodbye hug.

Luna and Hermione walked out of the infirmary and began to make their way silently to the library. Hermione's sense of loss was overcoming her quickly. Her words to Dumbledore were truer than she thought. It was as if in another life, she had lost Harry already, and could do nothing to stop it. She smiled at a memory of theirs, before her resolve stiffened. She would do everything in her power to make sure that she was never far from her.

“Hermione wait up,” Luna yelled after her. Hermione stopped and turned. She had not even realized that she had increased her speed. She just knew that she had to get the library and fast. She had to find all the protection spells possible. “What's with you? First the library seemed to be the last place you wanted and now you seemed determined about going to there.”

“Dumbledore is right, I've got to look up the spells,” Hermione said, turning around and continuing on her path. “I'm going to find a way to make sure that Harry never leaves me again.”

“I think he already gave it to you,” Luna said.

“What?” Hermione turned and looked at her. She pointed at her chest and Hermione looked down. The pendant was glowing a light blue, almost like a clear ocean blue. Hermione moved out from underneath her blouse and looked at intently. A sense of warmth surrounded her as she clasped it with both of her hands. All her fond memories of Harry came back to her, and soon, everything seemed better. She smiled as she put it back underneath her blouse. “I think there I need to return him the favor.” The two of them shared a giggle before they head off to the library, Hermione's memories thick with images of her and him on a beach somewhere.

-->

A/N: I'm creating a new language for my novel/poems, some spells are from that language.

Alright I apologize for the spelling mistakes if any, but I had to get this chapter up. I had to. I'm sending it to my beta as I write this, but it being past midnight, I doubt she'll get it done before I post this. However what I'm saying is excuse the mistakes, they be fixed within two days or more.

Sorry Sarah, you'll understand why I needed to get this chapter up.

Chapter Eighteen:

Passion makes the world go round. Love just makes it a safer place. Ice T

Harry looked out onto the Quidditch pitch. This was the first game of the season, let alone his from almost a half a year off. Granted he had practices, yet he still had his doubts. Ron had been made Quidditch captain for Gryffindor, allowing him to finally show his skills in strategy. Harry had talked McGonagall into it; she had wanted to make him the captain because of amount of time on the team after Katie Bell denied it, saying she needed to study for the NEWTS. Harry knew it was the right thing to do. Ron knew just about everything there was to know about Quidditch.

Harry looked out into the stands once more. He was searching from Hermione this time, instead of keeping his sense of dread in check. Over the past month, she had taken to the library, with or without him. She slowly was returning to the woman he had grown to know over the past five years. That determined, intelligent beautiful woman that could be considered a bibliophile. Well, he'd never call her that to her face, but knew that she loved books and that search for knowledge. Whatever the reason was, she had returned to her normal habits and the trio had just about returned to normal. Harry had kept up with his studies, he had to. There were no other options being Hermione's boyfriend and all. To be truthful, he knew he needed more than just to study for the NEWTS.

Dumbledore had increased the amount of pressure that Serge was putting on Harry to excel in his private training. He had begun learning Seventh year and beyond spells. Although more of his training had to do with his sword skills. He now knew how to act with such a finesse that it matter not if the man was bigger or smaller. His skill soon came into fighting larger groups and his body grew muscles to adapt to moving at such speeds and strength. By no means was he skinny, but now he had muscles that accented his nimble and speedy attack style. He learned how to use the lightning more efficiently, more instinctually. Now it seemed easier to use wandless magic than it did to use his wand. Although he still had to use his wand, at time he used a stick as a focus point, relying only on his wandless magic. Today was one of those days.

He was the last of the Gryffindor team to take the field as they did their entrance circle of the pitch. He began to focus on the game around him, drowning out the sounds of the screaming students and commentary. He saw two things, one Hermione, two the snitch as it was released from Madame Hooch's hands. He lost track of the golden snitch for a moment and took in his surrounding.

With the training he ascended to a point of awareness around himself. Barely moving his broom, he dodged a bludger as he turned to look for the snitch. He must have looked strange, just floating there as the bludgers were hit at him. They were playing Slytherin so obviously he was their main target. The funny thing was though, that Malfoy seemed to be trying a new strategy as well, actually looking for the snitch. The boy was doing more dodging than he was, but that did not upset the concentrated look on Malfoy's face. Harry figured it was time to see if Malfoy was really paying attention.

Pushing the tip of his broom down, Harry spiraled into a nosedive, extending his right hand as if to catch the snitch. He knew Malfoy would follow. The Slytherin's competitiveness was always running on high, trying to beat Harry. Malfoy followed close attempting to gain lost ground. With the skills of a trained pilot, Harry pulled the tip of his broom upward. Malfoy wasn't so lucky.

A new hole was added to the pitch, a Malfoy-sized one. He stopped near the Gryffindor stands, a smile plastered on his face. Among his friends, great cheers came from them, them and about everyone that wasn't a teacher or a Slytherin. He let the crowd's cheers come back into his world as he watched Madame Hooch help Malfoy stand. Madame Pomfrey was next to him, aiding him in his steps. Looking back at the Gryffindor stands, he found all smiles. Well there was one that wasn't quite a smile. Hermione was shaking her head at him, almost as to reprimand him. Harry knew he did not have much to worry about. She wasn't mad at him for letting Malfoy crashing, but rather for scaring her so badly.

He took the time to look at the rest of the players. Gryffindor's chasers seemed overtly tired, something he had not seen except in practice, but never in a game. They always were in top shape ready for anything. Now….now it seemed almost as if the plans Ron laid out for the team were too complex. Too much. The Slytherin's did not even look as if they broke a sweat. What was the problem? Their team should have been ahead. Shaking his head, Harry knocked himself back to reality.

This was Ron's first game as Captain, and although originally the plans may have looked great on paper, good in practice, the competitive environment that they were in right now made them almost obsolete. No, Ron had to change the plans laid down for their next Quidditch game. They were down by fifty points as well. Harry grimaced as the Slytherin Chaser tossed the Quaffle through one of the posts. Make that sixty.

Before starting the game, Ron had told that he did not want Harry to even go for the Snitch until they were ahead. As the game started, Harry made an executive decision. Screw Ron's plays. They needed to win. Winning would do more than losing and going with his plays. Ron's plays were made to lose and he was blinded by the fact that Ron was his friend and he wanted his friend to do well. But more importantly, he wanted to win, for everyone.

He let his body and mind slide into the lightning for a moment, allowing him to concentrate more and faster than before. His eyes began to go across the field and began to move at a speed that normally would have resulted in tunnel vision. But with his lightning, Harry was able to see all around him. The snitch appeared halfway across the pitch, moving at what would be considered a normal speed of a bird flying. Harry sped toward it, dodging the now slow moving bludgers as he did so. He was going at him normal speed, making it easier to keep an eye on the snitch before dropping out of it.

He was going to win this match fair, not using his magic. His mind was still on the snitch as he followed it. Taking a chance, he looked back to see Malfoy following him clumsily. He shook his head as the cheers grew louder. He vague heard the announcer say he had spotted the Snitch. The world around him grew silent as he blocked out the noise. The cheering crowd had long since lost its majestic pleasure. He no longer cared for them or the glory. He was in his element, so to speak. Harry not longer cared if there was a crowd or not, who he was playing with or not. All he cared about was playing the game; if he won all the better.

He outstretched his hand, in an attempt to gain a few more inches. The snitch took a drastic drop; much like the previous one Harry had gone through. He followed relentlessly though. He was not going to give up, nor should he. This was his release from all the stress, similar to the books Hermione often read to him. Even admitting it to him was difficult, but he found the knitting between the two of them relaxing as well. However now was not the time for such thoughts, now was the time for action.

The snitch continued on its downward scale, with Harry close behind it. However, only a few meters off the ground the Snitch changed directions, and Harry barely was able to follow suit. He was spun upside down on his broom, defying gravity almost. Although he could use some of his strength to get on the right side of the broom, however, there were more important things at hand. Like making sure he caught the snitch. He felt his hair brush the ground and a small cloud of dirt being kicked up by it. Smiling to himself, he pushed his broom further as he made his way toward the snitch.

Another quick turn and Harry was right-side up. The snitch was still only a grasp away and now had gone straight upward. The air pushed down on him greater. Never before had the snitch taken him to such a height. With one final grasp, Harry had the elusive snitch in his hands. He allowed the world around him to come back into focus, only instead of cheers of joy, there were screams, horrible screams of pain and terror.

“No,” Harry whispered, allowing his broom to got back into a nosedive. He aimed for the center of the Dark Mark which floated above the Quidditch pitch. He tapped into his lightning as he dove, allowing it to let him see the world around him. Terror filled his heart as he looked around.

Students were running around, scared witless. Terror filled their faces as the Death Eaters attacked without mercy. He pointed his broom to the center of a large group of them, planning to impale one or two of them. Mercy was not one of the things Serge taught him. Quite the contrary, Serge taught him to attack without mercy in a mass battle. For the enemy is the enemy. In a duel or sneak attack, mercy is the greatest ally for she gains friends and allies more for you than it would work against you. A leader must be strong and terrify, as well as hopeful and wise. Harry wished to be all that and more.

The broom pierced the chest of a death Eater and Harry hoped off. He was not too far from Serge who currently was using his guns as blunt objects. The man disappeared into a throng of Death Eaters as Harry turned to the ones around him. Withdrawing the stick he used as his wand, he summoned his katana before attacking the closest death Eater. “Reducto!” He cried, as the Death Eater was hurtled into a throng of others.

A lull allowed him to look around. The majority of the students appeared to be huddled behind a mass of teachers, those including Dumbledore, Snape and McGonagall. Several member of DA were there as well. Hermione and Ron were defending along side the teachers as many of them assisted the students back to the school, or rather away from the fight.

A gunshot ran out.

The world moved in slow motion as Harry turned. The horde of attackers had been blown off of Serge and he stood, his shoulders heaving heavily. Harry could make out the blood splattered on his shirt; it was not his own. A body lay at Serge's feet and the animal inside of him had been released.

“Take it Harry,” Serge said, tossing what looked like a hand gun to Harry. “I'm not using it anymore.” He tore off the glove on his right hand and a painful scream filled the air. It was not another Death Eater, but rather Serge's. Harry caught the gun and slide it into his pants at the base of his spine. He had no use for such weapons. He held out his hand and took the katana as it flew toward him.

“Aglignis!” Harry cried. A long ago forgotten spell splintered forth from his outstretched hand as he cut off the hand of a Death Eater. Several bolts of lightning spread from the tips of his fingertips and into the hearts of the Death Eaters. The bolts then continued into others in the same manner, into their hearts. Harry took his katana and swung it into one of the still moving Death Eaters as he tried to attack at first year. He picked up the young girl, with a newfound strength and began to head toward the teachers.

Another scream of terror.

Harry turned and looked back, the girl's head now hiding in his shoulder. The Death Eater was gone. His body had rotted away in mere moments and the head looked no different. The smell………Harry doubted if he'd every forget that smell. He looked around him as the Death Eaters climbed back to their feet. Their chests were burnt but it was more apparent as to what they were.

“Zombies,” he whispered as more screams came from around. Whatever spell hid their appearance was done. Now everyone saw the zombies.

The screams grew even louder, as the battle grew fiercer. Harry continued toward the groups of professors with the girl in his arms. He had not taken the chance to look at her as he needed to concentrate. The zombies were regenerating faster than anyone thought, and that discarded that fact that there were real Death eaters there as well.

“Take her,” Harry said, handing off the young blond Gryffindor. He finally took the time to notice that, but not much more.

“What are you going to do?” McGonagall asked him as she took the child from his arms.

“Whatever I can,” Harry said. He turned back into the horde and huddled masses. The only person left beside him not defending was Serge. The man was currently covered in blood and grime. If he was injured he did not show such problems.

“Hey buddy,” Serge said as he tossed one of the creatures a good twenty feet. “Ready for a little action?”

“You call this little?” Harry asked as he defended himself from a spell sent his way.

“I wouldn't call it big,” Serge said.

Harry began to attack, without mercy as the enemy had done to them. Where they had come from mattered not, what mattered was they were here, on his territory. Serge had taught Harry to fight as if every land was his home, for militia fight for hearth and home, and history has them in their hearts.

“Harry, we've got trouble,” Serge said. He motioned with his head toward the group of professors as he cut through a group of undead with his white arc of a hand. Harry turned his head as he did a similar stunt with his katana.

Hermione and Ron were making their way toward him, using spells he had taught them as well as what elemental spells they knew. Harry turned and used a spell upon them before a group of them came from behind. “Aulignis!” he cried. A dome of light surrounded the trio as Harry reached within diving distance of them before the spell hit.

“What the hell do you think you two are doing?” Harry asked, keeping his anger at bay.

“Helping you, what does it look like,” Ron said, standing tall.

“By forcing me to protect you?” Harry asked, turning them both around. “That group would have killed you both without remorse, without feeling. Ron you have no inkling of what we are facing right now.”

“You can't stop us from helping,” Ron said. The redhead turned around, but Harry chose to ignore him for the moment.

“Hermione, if you wish to help me, then go back and heal the students that are injured,” Harry said, turning his back to them. “If something happened to you…..” His voice trailed off as she hugged him from behind. He turned around and embraced her as well.

“I just wanted to give you something,” she leaned forward and kissed him. Harry felt something be placed into his hands as she pulled back. She was so innocent in her deeds, never thinking of her own safety, but his alone. It was that which made their love so pure. Him for her, and her for him. “For luck. And the watch is for us.” Harry looked down at the pocket watch resting in his palm. “For your protection.” The simple sounds of the watch echoed now in his mind, along with her words of love and acceptance. It gave him strength, and hope was given to him. She removed it from his hands, only to slid it into his pocket. Just before Hermione left, she kissed him once more. “Be careful.”

“I will,” Harry said in response. She slide out of his embrace and turned back to Ron. “Ron, look out for her?” The sounds of the watch still resonated in his mind as she stepped out of his arms.

“Sure,” he said.

“Thanks mate,” Harry said, letting the shield fall. He knew Ron was not entirely sincere, but would keep Hermione safe, if just for his own interests.

The shield fell and Harry turned back to Serge who seemed to be slowing down. He looked over his shoulder as he deflected another spell. Ron and Hermione were making their way back to professors, slower, more carefully than when they were trying to get to him. He smirked slightly, and returned his attention to aiding Serge.

“Aglignis!” Harry cried once more. The spell went through the zombies like hot knife through butter. He was at Serge's side once more and had to help him stand up slightly as the older man stumbled.

“Listen, I'm going to need you're help after this,” Serge said, drawing back his arced hand.

“What for?” Harry said as Serge stood upright.

“Just watch.”

Serge's right arm began to glow once more, this time brighter than Harry had ever seen it. A large rod of white blinding light was drawn out of the small hole at the top of the metal cast. The pole was almost a lightning rod as Serge held it vertical in the air. Harry could see the outline of another white rod, this one perpendicular to the other. “A cross,” Harry whispered to the wind, and a smirk appeared on his face.

The undead paused, sensing this increase in power and, if for only a moment, feared something in their forsaken deaths. The symbol of the Light gave so much hope to the dark world, lighting the area around them. The pause in the battlefield was uplifting, giving to the warriors of the Light power and strength. Silence enveloped the field, save the sound of a watch. Tick, tock. Tick, tock. And in between the hands of the clock, Harry moved.

Serge may have been planning something, but that didn't mean Harry had to stand around and wait. Within the frozen world, Harry step between each Zombie, slicing and hacking. If they could, arms would fall, and heads would roll. But at the speed within the clock, they would remain still as statues. Nothing moved, Harry watched, as he zipped between two more zombies, cutting through some stomachs. He was a radiate statue, an emissary from the gods even.

And just as quickly as the clock ticks began, they stopped the world speed up again. Around him, body parts fell to the ground, and the ash of the zombies turned to dust. Serge fell to the ground, his cross held right in front of him. He spoke in Latin, the language of the Priests. The cross radiated its light brighter than before, turning the zombies away. Some of the weaker ones burst into flames and fell to the ground. The stronger ones cowered. As the light died down, Harry heard Serge yell, “now, Harry.”

Speeding up the world again, Harry darted forward, destroying what he could. The crippled undead fell under the weight of Harry's blade, it passed through the rotten skin as a hot iron through butter. It was over in a few minutes, as the remaining zombies had run for the hills. Harry fell to his knees, tried from the event. All his energy was spent. It over though and that he was thankful.

Someone was running over to him, but he was so tired. Harry just stared forward, but know the moment she touched him who hugged him so tightly. His love, his life. With much effort, he pulled his hand up to her waist and tried to return the hug. His muscles ached, and his body burned with pain. She whispered softly into his ear. “I saw it all.” He wished he could respond but sleep was the only thing on his mind other than her. The battle was over and she was safe. That was all that matter. “And I'm proud of you.” He smiled, knowing that was all that he wanted from her all along.

“Look out,” Ron screamed. Harry felt Hermione being pushed out of the way, and grand blue light envelope his two friends.

“NO!” He screamed, gaining a newfound strength. Tick, tock……….tick, tock…………The world around him came to a screeching halt or close to it as he watched Ron and Hermione's frozen bodies be taken into a portal, laced with deep blues and blinding whites. He vaguely saw the outline of a beach and the fear on Hermione's face as she was taken from him. His hand went to the watch as he watched her hand go to the pendant. Tick, tock…………tick, tock………Harry held onto it tightly as timed returned to normal and a storm began to brew around them.

“NO!” He screamed and stood up. Tears began to fall, but the rain washed them away before he had time to count them. Tick, tick, tick………….Time stopped itself as Harry turned to find that bastard, find the man who took his best friends away from him. His Hermione and his brother Ron. Find the man who destroyed his life.

Harry took a step across the frozen field, vaguely aware of the raindrops that he ran through. The Death Eaters were still around them, standing and looking just as shocked as everyone else at the spell. Serge lay on the ground, his exhaustion apparent on his flash frozen face. Taking a breath, Harry looked back at the place were they disappeared. He then looked at the remains of the spell in static in the air. Tick, tick, tick…………Harry walked to the trail, and touched it, letting shock pass through his body. He turned and looked at the Death Eater who cast it. Tick, tick, tock………Tick, tock. Time returned to normal

Before the Death Eater had time to react, Harry had him on the ground, with his katana at the man's throat. The storm grew worse around them as Harry stared with intensity unknown beforehand, before…… He knew the professors were watching him, along with all of the other Death Eaters as he stood still.

“Avada Kedavra!” One of them cried. The spell lurched forward, only to stop mid-air, then shatter. Had Harry been in a better mode, of a different mind, he might have smirked. They never saw him move, never saw him deflect/chop that spell into millions of pieces.

A bolt of lightning hit the man, followed closely by another two. Harry kept his eyes locked on the Death Eater still on the ground before him. Had anyone noticed, small tears of lightning were falling from his eyes.

“See what happened to him,” Harry spoke in a low voice. The man nodded. “Remove your mask,” Harry said, keeping his eyes on the man. One of the Death Eaters raised his wand and pointed it at Harry.

“Av-”

“Aglignis.” Harry said softly. He did not turn from the Death eater on the ground, but rather held his hand behind him. The bolts flew from his hands and into the hearts of everyone single Death Eaters, all ten of them. They fell to the ground, clutching their hearts as repeatedly and simultaneously had heart attacks.

“You see that?” Harry asked once more. The man nodded, fear growing in his eyes. The rained pelted even harder as the crashes of thunder grew louder. “Remove your mask Peter.” The fear grew as the rat of a man threw off his mask with his silver hand. “Hello Peter.”

“Please don't kill me,” he cringed. Harry looked back at the Death Eaters as they one by one stopped moving. Twitching continued, but movement, life had ended.

“Nothing more than a dead frog jump started,” Harry commented as he turned Wormtail's head toward one of the bodies. He kept his foot firmly pressing the bastard's head into the mud. “See how the body is dead, yet the legs and arms keep moving. A body or person experiences such from massive amounts of continually electricity that runs through the body.”

“Please don't kill me.” Harry turned back to Wormtail.

“Peter, now why would I do that,” Harry said. There was no question in his statement. He slide his hand to the cool steel still held by belt. “What reason did you give me to do that?”

“I don't want to die,” Wormtail said. Harry stood, the gun in one hand, his katana in the other. He placed the blade to Wormtail's cheek and drew it quickly, allowing the blood to be drawn.

“Not today, traitor, not today,” Harry said, moving so he left the entrance or rather exit to the pitch was open. Wormtail was on his hands and knees now, fear filling his face. The smell grew rancid as Harry knew he had truly scared the man.

“Not today, not today,” Harry said, pointing the gun at the chubby man's head.

“Please, I beg of you, don't kill me, what would your father say?” Wormtail pleaded.

“Stand,” Harry said turning his back to the man. He looked at the faces of the professors: Dumbledore, no more twinkle and Harry planned to make sure that it did not come back for a while; McGonagall, so much pain, lost three of her brightest students that day……; Snape, for a sourpuss, he could show emotion.

“You tell him I'm coming Wormtail,” Harry said, turning back around. The pain was too much to look at them. In front of him, covered in mud, blood and his own piss, like the rat he truly was, Wormtail visible shivered at the sight before him.

Power, energy radiated from every hair, every fiber of Harry's body. He had reached his potential, not fully, but had tapped into it. Lightning was his food now, thunder his voice, the storm his life. He was it all. But as the tick tock of that clock rang through the thunder, he knew he was wrong. Harry was nothing. Harry was no more. He had lost his family, his voice, his life, his love, his everything. There was no more. Best end it all now……

“You tell him I'm coming,” Harry said, shoving the bastard back into the ground. Holding the gun steady, he fired a shot, grazing the rat's left hip. “And Hell's coming with me.” He fired once more, this into the mud. He purposely had missed as Wormtail was now running. For as fat of a man as he was, that was saying something.

“You hear me!” Harry yelled, firing another thunder into the air. “HELL'S COMING WITH ME! HELL'S COMING WITH ME!” He fell to his knees as the rat vanished from sight.

The storm raged, people drew around him, but he heard nothing. Except…..'tick, tock, tick, tock'.......Harry no longer cared, no longer needed to. What was the point? What was the reason? Was there a reason?

He held his katana in his right hand, holding open his left palm. Tick, tock, tick, tock. He spoke his final words for a long time. “I swear, by the blood of my father, by the blood of my mother……” tick, tock, tick, tock. “I swear that this ends, this war ends……No more will die by their hands……Only by mine……I swear by my father's fathers and my mother's mothers, every last one of those bastards will feel the pain………” Tick, tock…………tick? “The suffering that I know all too well, tenfold. I will not rest, I will not stop, until they all are gone………This is my vow, this is my oath……My life for you, Hermione. My life for you, Ron. I will avenge you both. I swear it!” He spoke the last in a harsh whisper as he drew the blade across his left palm, the blood flowing fast. Squeezing it tight, he allowed it to fall to the point where they both disappeared from, where his life ended. Where their lives ended.

“Harry,” Serge said with labored breaths. The man had crawled through mud it appeared. He looked over at Serge. “You saved my daughter. I'll follow you through hell and back. I'm forever in your debt.” Harry nodded, though he did not smile.

He understood. More than anyone knew. But he would not dwell on those thoughts. Not now. Now was the time of his oath.

“Give me hand, would you?” Serge asked with a smile. Harry held out his good hand, his right hand as with his left, he slid the revolver into his belt. “You're going after them aren't you.” Harry stared back at Serge, determination in his eyes. “Well, then, you have my knowledge and my lead.” Harry nodded and felt someone touch his shoulder. Dumbledore put his hand on his shoulder and he looked at the older man for a moment.

Guilt filled Dumbledore's eyes, and Harry did not hear the arrival of the Aurors or the Order. His strength finally left him, his pain finally filled. There was nothing anyone could do. Nothing could bring them back from the dead……tick, tock, tick, tock………nothing to live for.

Harry clung to his mentor's robes as he fell to his knees, his body raked with sobs of pain and sorrow. The storm grew worse, the steady rain turning into a downpour. Harry did not notice, nor did he care. They were gone………all gone.

“I'm sorry,” Dumbledore said as he wrapped his arms around the young man. He had heard the vow where others had not. And for the first time, in a long time, from the look in the headmaster's eyes, Harry could tell the man was afraid…………

-->

A/N: Harry is not longer speaking or is doing so minimally. Italics are his motions with his head and eyes, conveying his thoughts and such.

Chapter 19:

Between the Ticks of Time

“Sssh,” Luna attempted to comfort him. Harry stared bloodshot eyes out of the window, done to the Quidditch pitch. Luna had come immediately from the Ravenclaw dorms to the infirmary where Harry was. That was all he knew--his adopted sister was safe. They had not heard word from her father, but a gut feeling told Harry the man was dead. Both had signed the paperwork only a week before, before. “You need some sleep.”

“She's right Harry.” He turned and looked at Lupin, the last of the original Marauders. “You need to eat, sleep.” Harry stared at the man for a moment. “You want me to teach you?” Harry nodded, glad his message got across. He pointed at Lupin then at himself. “To be like me?” Harry nodded once more. “A werewolf?” He shook his head. “A marauder?” Harry nodded, a smile, the first smile in ages. Lupin could not help but smile back it seemed. “It'd be my honor. On one condition though.” Harry gave him a questioning look. “You shower and get something to eat and maybe a little sleep. We'll start tomorrow if you'd like.” Harry nodded once more and stood from his chair.

“You welcome Harry,” Luna said as she was surrounded in a bear hug. He pulled back and looked into her eyes, telling her simply that he'd be there for her too. “Thank you.” She said as he brushed away some tears.

Harry walked out of the infirmary, despite Madame Pomfrey's screams. He still was dressed in his Quidditch uniform, still held the gun at his back and his katana at his side. His mind began to replay everything last night, learning from his mistakes. Never again would he lose someone because of his mistakes. Hermione was taken because she loved him. No more. There will be no more deaths, not if he had any say it in. And as of that moment, he had a great deal of say.

“Harry?” He had reached the Gryffindor tower without incident and had managed to not speak to anyone, or rather have anyone speak to him. But once he met Ginny, he could see she needed him at the moment. Holding out his arms, she threw himself into them, crying deeply into his shoulder. He led her to the couch and sat her down. “You'll be back?” He nodded and headed up to sixth year boys shower. He changed out of his Quidditch uniform and into a set of clothes left on his bed.

The clothes were lightweight, appeared to be comfortable and allow him to move agilely in them. Harry remembered seeming something similar to them on one of his rare occasions of watching television. A karate movie was on, and it was a boy about his age maybe younger. He wore an outfit similar to this. However the main difference was that a holster was on the bed for the gun Harry still carried with him as well as the sheath for the katana. He quickly dressed in the clothes and placed the gun back in its holster. He threw his robe on as he made his way out the door.

He made his way back to the common room silently, but was unsuccessful. Apparently now the whole school was trying to comfort him, and all he wanted to do was keep the fuel alive and going. He had a vow to keep and no one was going to slow him done.

“Harry, come on, relax,” Dean said, stepping in front of him. Harry growled slightly causing everyone to move out of his way.

He made his way toward Ginny, but did not sit down. The young girl looked up at him, in expectation. He brushed a lone tear off her cheek before kissing it. “I'm sorry,” he whispered in a hoarse voice. He pulled back and made his way toward the Fat Lady.

Harry walked down to the kitchen without incident. The word had spread among the students no doubt of his power and the show he put on last night. All the better to leave him alone.

“Harry Potter, Dobby is so glad to see you,” the small elf said as he attached himself to Harry's legs. He rubbed the wool covered head, a jolt as he remembered Hermione's skills of knitting hit his heart. He reached into his pocket to touch the watch, and felt a calm over come him.

Harry pointed toward the dishes the elves were preparing for dinner. “Right away Harry Potter sir,” Dobby said with excitement. Harry moved toward a stool at one of the counters and sat down. He felt a sudden impact to his legs once more; he looked down to see Winky attached, tears covering her eyes.

“Harry Potter sir, Harry's miss is gone, sir,” Winky said, holding onto his legs tighter. He nodded, letting a single teardrop on her head. She looked up, and saw the sadness within his eyes. He gave her a befallen smile before patting her head. “Winky will get Harry Potter some Butterbeer.” Harry gave her another pat on the head as Dobby brought him some food. He gave the elf a smile as he took the sandwich off the plate.

Slowly he began to eat, allowing himself to savor this last few moments of peace before having to return and finish what he had started. He left hand went to the pocket that held the watch. He removed it, and opened it for the first time.

Tick, tock, tick, tock.

Harry looked in wonder at the picture of him and Hermione, as they lay nestled before the fire in the Common Room. Colin must have taken it one night when they feel asleep. He choked back his tears as he watched his picture self pull Hermione closer, playing with his hair. He turned to the cover of the watch to see the inscription.

“Every tick of the clock counts the reasons I love you. It's magical and will never die, just like our love. - Hermione Jane Granger”

Harry smile grew as he touched the inscription. A sense of hope and warmth filled him like whenever she held him. He choked back another set of tears as he placed the watch back in his pocket. He finished his sandwich and his Butterbeer without a second though and thanked both Dobby and Winky for them.

He head slowly to the Headmaster's office. Now the rest of the castle was up and they all seemed to be avoiding him. All but one.

“What the matter Potter? Your Mudblood gone off and left you for some Weasel?” Malfoy said. Harry felt the anger rising in his chest, but instinctively felt his hand touch the watch. He calmed down slightly. “What the matter Potter? Too scared without your worthless Mudblood here to protect you?”

Harry withdrew the gun from its holster and turned on Malfoy. He held out his left hand and motioned for Malfoy to come closer. The ferret was lifted off the ground and Harry held him a good foot off the ground, the steel barrel held against the blond head.

“Alright, I'll stop,” Malfoy said, squirming in Harry's grasp. “Please just don't hurt me. I'm not a Death Eater, please, put me down.” Harry continued to stare at him. He took his left hand off of Malfoy's throat, but he remained in the air. He took Malfoy's right arm and pulled up the shirt . There was no mark, only a ring of bruises. He looked at Malfoy, a question dancing in his eyes. The boy nodded and he set Malfoy down. “My father, he…” Malfoy's voice trailed off, but that was all Harry needed to hear. He nodded once more before stepping way.

“Thank you,” he said. Harry looked back at Malfoy as he put the gun in the holster. He turned around and continued on his walk toward Dumbledore's office. “I'm sorry, Harry.” He did not turn around to acknowledge the comment, but it registered.

“Welcome Harry,” Dumbledore said as Harry entered the office. The gargoyle had moved automatically, as if sensing his approach. All the better for him. “Please have a seat.” Harry nodded and sat down in front of the Headmaster. “I'm removing you from the current curriculum for the time being, Harry. Current matters are too important to let slip out of our grasp.” Harry nodded, showing his understanding. “Tomorrow,” Harry shook his head, “today then, you will begin your Animagus training as well as summoning your familiar.” Harry gave the headmaster a questioning look. A what? “It's a magical creature that aids in defending its master. I shall be assisting you in such. Any questions?” No. “good then you already know your teacher, shall we begin?” Lupin walked into the room, sadness filled his eyes. Yes.

* * * * *

The Death Eaters had been inactive for more than a month, allowing Harry time to train. To the surprise of his mentors, both Lupin and Dumbledore, Harry had mastered his animagus form within the first two weeks, and could sustain the form for almost an indefinite time period. Before them sat a majestic jaguar, a jungle cat known for its stealth and speedy attack. A lightning bolt shaped scar was the only evidence of the cat being human. For weeks Harry had trained using the stealth of the animagus to increase his own attacks. Often he would be forced into the Room of Requirement and then forced to finish off the “Death Eater” inside to leave. As days grew shorter, and nights grew longer, more “death Eaters” were added, and more stipulations were added as well. However, with every curveball that gave him, Harry was able to come out on top.

Now however, he needed to summon his familiar, and though he had the power, the memory required was too painful for him to even express. He needed to draw upon his greatest joys and greatest fears. He need to draw all of his powers into on single being, and give it life. The fears were no problem; he was living them every moment of every day. He had to draw upon his joy, and each time he tried to do so, he felt a bit more of himself die, as he never tried to work through it all, and though others did try, he would not let them.

Again.

“But harry-” Dumbledore started.

Again.

“Alright,” Dumbledore said, helping him off the ground. Harry picked the watch out of his pocket and stared into it. Hermione looked so peaceful, and in his heart, he knew she still was. She was still alive, and he'd find her. But now... now he had an oath to fulfill.

He began to wave his hands in a clock like fashion, starting at twelve and moving clockwise back to twelve. “Miutetfir.” His hoarse voice whispered. A small puff of smoke appeared in front of him. Concentrating, Harry spoke once more allowing the gray smoke to take a more solid form. “Uchialaninmiute!” He spoke for forcefully, focusing on Hermione held safely in his arms, her gentle giggle and laughter that lit up his world. His everything, his joys and fears were with her…………

“Well done Harry,” Dumbledore said as Harry slumped to the floor. The smoke was no more. A brown otter sat on its hunches before him, with clear brown eyes. It scurried over to him, a playful look upon its face. Harry smile to himself as he picked it up.

Hermione, my Hermione. His eyes danced as the otter and he played with a ball Harry conjured.

“Harry, you're ready,” Dumbledore said with a sigh. Harry looked up and soon understood. His mentor, his grandfather, did not want him leave, not because of his safety but rather because if Harry left and went through with his oath, his innocence would be completely gone.

Yes. Harry stood, taking the otter in his arms. He placed her around his neck, allowing her to rest peacefully as she slept.

“I will not stop you, Harry, though I will pray for you,” Dumbledore said as he held out his arms. They shared a small embrace as Harry said his goodbyes to the headmaster. “But I do ask that you be careful, your new sister will undoubtedly be worried about you.” Harry nodded. Luna's father had been found dead, and it was his turn to act as comforter as she held onto him and stayed close to him afterward. “Go down to the entrance, there are some that are going with you I believe.” Harry gave a questioning look, but picked up the bag he carried everywhere with him. It contained a change of clothes, emergency portkey and a small medical kit. Slinging it over his shoulder, he made sure his gun was firmly strapped into the holster and his katana in its sheath, strapped to his back.

Harry made his way out to the entrance to find two faces he had not expected. Serge stood with a large bag on his back, he knew that man was coming, but the two he did not expect were Ginny and Malfoy. Ginny was dressed in a muggle camping attire, and held what appeared to be a Beater bat in her hands; Malfoy was dressed in his Quidditch attire, his black cloak covering the padding and such. Harry shook his head at the sight of them bickering.

“They came because they said they have their own revenge to execute,” Serge said to Harry. Harry nodded. Unofficially, he was leading the group, but for the record and for the rest of the world, the responsible adult was the leader. “What do you want me to tell them?” Harry looked at Serge for a moment before turning and walked in the direction of the forbidden forest. “You're the boss.”

The world was quiet around him as he made his way to Hagrid's hut. Only a week before he had Sirius's motorcycle brought out for his use. He had almost mastered riding it normally and was decent with it in the air. He straddled the bike and placed his pack into one of the saddlebag. He placed his otter into the other. Grabbing the leather, heavily padded jacket Sirius also left him, Harry smirked as he thought of what he could do in the air to those bastard, those Death Eaters.

“They're ready, they don't like it but their ready,” Serge said coming back to Harry. “We're ready to leave when you are.” Harry nodded and started the bike. The motor roared to life as he kicked the kickstand up and rode up to where Ginny and Malfoy were waiting.

“We're going with you,” Ginny said, standing her ground. “Whether you like it or not.” Stared at her, questions dancing in his eyes as she spoke. “They took my brother from me.”

“My father owes me Potter,” Malfoy said. He spoke without emotion, but rather a sense of underlying hatred. Harry nodded and turned to Serge.

“Hey, as long as I'm not looking after their asses all the time,” Serge said, shrugging his shoulders. Harry nodded and opened his mouth to speak.

“Wait for me!” Harry turned to see Luna running toward them, a bag in one of her hands. He stopped the bike and got off. “I'm coming with you.” She stood in front of him now, the dreamy look hidden beneath her adamant face.

“You can't be serious, she doesn't even-” Malfoy said. Harry cut him off before he could get any further.

“She goes; you pull your weight, you can stay.” He got back onto the bike, and patted the seat behind him. Luna smiled slightly and hopped on. He handed her a helmet as he started the bike once more. She placed hers on, then he placed his, one that covered all but his eyes by black.

“Where does my bag go?” She asked. He pointed at saddlebag with his in it. “Thanks.”

“How are we going to follow you?” Ginny asked as Harry began to ride off. He pressed a small red button that was over the gas cap of the motorcycle, causing it to lift off the ground.

“By broom,” Serge said as Harry flew into the air, circling them. He looked down at them, smiling slightly. Serge handed both Ginny and Malfoy their brooms, or rather Malfoy his broom. Ginny was able to ride Harry's Firebolt as he was riding the motorcycle. Serge simply floated into the air on wings he constructed shortly after handing out the brooms. Malfoy and Ginny were in the air, after a few moments of situating their belongings.

“Alright. Good, the ground rules,” Serge said, looking over at Harry. He nodded as Serge began to lay down the law. “Number one, Harry is in charge, but you get your orders from me. Two, any disobedience and you will be sent back to Hogwarts at your own expense. Three, all actions are none disagreeable. What were are out to do is something that has not been done for a long time. You follow our orders and you'll live. You watch out for yourself and everyone else. Do I make myself clear?”

“What are we doing exactly?” Ginny asked. Harry looked at her.

Death. Harry's eyes spoke the word as he began to fly south. He knew they were going to follow him; they had no choice now. Luna clung to his back as they rode along. He knew she wanted to say something but never did. Serge flew ahead, keeping watch.

“Where are we going?” Malfoy asked after an hour and half of flying south.

“Germany, to Voldemort's last known stronghold,” Serge said as they hit a squall. “Hold tight to your stuff; don't want any of it blowing away and giving our position out.”

“What are we going to do once we arrive there?” Ginny asked. Harry looked back at her. She and Malfoy were flying close together to keep warm. He had charmed his jacket earlier to do so and was glad as it helped keep Luna warm as well.

“Kill,” Serge said, flying ahead once more. Conversation died down after that, or rather Harry could no longer hear it. He concentrated on his training. The last month his mind did not change from what it was before the incident, but he rather began to research known Death Eaters, or ones from the previous war. As they stopped for camp that night in a secluded forest area, Harry walked off. He had planned this stop.

“You're not going off Harry,” Serge said, stopping him. “You and I know that Hermione will not want you to be a killer. The best way to stop the Death Eaters are at the source. Cut off the head and the body will die. Understand?” Harry nodded. “Good, then listen as I tell you where they went.”

They're alive. His eyes lit up as Serge led him back to the fire.

“Yes, but you and I both know that before didn't we?” Serge sat down. “They are in Another World, Harry. I know you saw that beach there. From what I know that is the nexus of the world, the entrance so to speak. They passed through and it had to be the amulet that protected them both.”

What?

“The amulet, the one you gave Hermione, was a magical one that was originally used to hop through time, back in my world,” Serge said. “Schala, Kid, the woman you met in the globe wore it as well before she came here. That is why I left Another World, in search of her.”

Can I go there?

“I think so,” serge said. He stared into the fire as it began to die. “You still have those elements I gave you right?” Harry nodded. “Well, maybe in combination with that watch she gave you, you might be able to. I'd have to talk with Guile when we return. He's Schala's brother you know?” Harry gave Serge a questioning look. “It's a rather long story, one that I don't know if I have the heart to live through again, but Guile jumped through time and ended up in mine where Schala had landed as well. Only problem was, he was living in another time before doing so, and lived a longer life than she did.”

How do you think we'll do?

“Depends on how well they act,” Serge said. They both looked at Ginny and Malfoy who were talking quietly at the edge of the fire. Luna was sitting on the blanket Harry had given her to use. She was reading a book that she had brought with her. Harry could barely make out the title of the book. It must have been a Muggle book because he had never heard of the title before. “I believe Luna can hold her ground, she's been taken lessons from McGonagall as well as Hermione. I've seen her fight, and she'll do fine. But it's what hasn't been said between Malfoy and little Weasley. There is some tension between them and I know its either going to save us, or kill us in the end. I'm about two seconds away from telling to go roll in the hay.” Harry chuckled silently at this. “What's this, he's laughing? Saints preserve us. There may be hope for him yet.”

Thanks.

“Anytime, beside, you should check up on Luna,” Serge said standing up. “I'm gonna find us something to eat.” Harry nodded and looked over at Luna. She looked as though she wiped her eyes, giving Harry a bit to worry about.

“Hey Harry,” Luna said, putting the book aside.

You okay? Harry looked at her as he sat, smiling lightly.

“Yeah, just…” Her voice trailed off. “I just never got to tell him.” Harry wrapped his arm around her, holding her close. “I know that I shouldn't worry about it.” Harry jerked her back and shook his head. “I should be worried?” He nodded. “But why?” He stared at her a moment or two allowing her to think about it. “Because I love him.”

It's your emotions. Harry turned and stared into the fire. Using his arm, he drew her close as she began to cry softly. He drew her closer as a cool wind blew through the area. He could see Ginny and Malfoy still talking, but they were closer, with Malfoy's arm around Ginny. He was going to have a talk with him about that.

“Thank you Harry,” Luna said, as she let herself relax against his chest.

“Already moving on Harry?” Ginny asked from across the fire. Harry looked at the younger girl. “Found yourself a new girlfriend?”

“Harry don't,” Luna said as he stood up. He walked forward and stepped through the fire, his boots treading deeply into the burning wood. He felt the flames bite his legs slightly but ignored it.

“Ginny, why did you go and say that?” Malfoy moaned. She gave him a glare.

“You know just as well as I do that-” Harry cut her short by the gun placed against her forehead. He stared at herm, death dancing in his eyes.

“Potter put that gun down,” Serge's voice rang through the clearing. Harry made no moves to put the gun down, on the contrary, he pulled the trigger back on the revolver. “Harry, I'm warning you put the gun down.”

“Never accuse me of being unfaithful,” Harry whispered. His voice had grown small from the month of minimal to none use. “Never.” He let the gun fall and he walked back through the fire. Holstering the gun, Harry concentrated on his soul, his animagus form, transforming into it with ease.

“Harry, wait!” Luna cried out. He made no moves to turn around. He ran into the forest. It felt wonderful to be moving so gracefully in the woods. His eyes adjusted to the night, allowing him to stare deeply into the woods instead of running blindly.

The smells were overwhelming; he wanted to stay like this, like he was forever. Never return, never... tick, tock, tick, tock...The clock sounded in Harry's soul as he looked up at the moon. It must have been a spectacle to see a jaguar upon his hunches staring longingly into the moon. He took a deep breath and began to head back toward their camp. He sat back and listened to them. Serge was looking directly at him. That however was not a problem. The man did not have night vision like Harry did.

“What the hell was that all about?” Luna asked. It appeared that they all had a moment of silence or something as he left.

“You tell me,” Ginny asked, standing up. Harry sniffed the air. Stench of betrayal filled it. With the combination of ferret included. Harry held back a growl. Malfoy was hiding something; something that could be their undoing or Riddle's………

“He was comforting me,” Luna said. “And I was doing the same for him.”

“No you weren't you were hoarding in on him,” Ginny nearly screamed. “You were trying to seduce him.”

“Like you've been trying to do this entire time?” Luna shot back. Ginny's face flushed, or at least Harry thought so. He knew she was trying to move in on him. It was visible whenever he was around her. This only confirmed his suspicions. Harry figured it was time to step in. Changing back into his form, he walked out of the trees and into the light. He looked at Serge, nodding slightly before going to his saddle bag.

“Alright, looks like I'm the interpreter, so I can say this,” Serge said, stepping between Ginny and Luna. “Want to know what is going on between them don't you? Makes you feel useless because he did not come crying to you like you did to him? Thought maybe you two could console each other and grow lovey dovey, correct?” Ginny nodded as she sat back down. Harry took out his otter and sat down, playing with the little girl. “First off, she went to him, because she knew he needed someone to talk to. Not cry on, not be cried upon, someone to talk to. As you can see, Harry hasn't done much talking.”

“But she was trying to move in on him,” Ginny said, embarrassment replaced by anger.

“No, she was consoling her brother, and he was doing the same for her,” Serge said. “You were too wrapped up in your own grief to even read a newspaper. It has been a month since her father's death, and I've talked to her about, and you haven't talked to her about it. From what I can understand you were close friends last year, why not this year?”

“Because...” Ginny's voice trailed off as she looked at Luna. Then back at Harry. Harry looked up from his game he was playing to see Luna standing, holding her arms close to her body. It was obvious she was embarrassed and held out his hand for her. The young Ravenclaw too it, and slide down next to him

“Say it, it'll feel better,” Serge said. Ginny glared at him, but her gaze changed onto Harry.

“Because I was jealous that he grew closer to her then he did to me.”

“Doesn't feel better?” Serge asked.

Shut it. Harry sent a glare toward Serge as the older man turned away.

“I'm sorry Luna, I didn't know,” Ginny said. Harry looked at Malfoy who looked torn. Despite his previous tendencies, he nodded at Malfoy who put on arm around Ginny, trying to comfort her. He did not trust the boy, nor should he. Malfoy put an arm around Ginny to which she leaned into the slight embrace.

“Alright, time for chow,” Serge said. Harry nodded and placed the otter on his lap. Taking a piece of the fruit that Serge gave him, he gave it to the otter and allowed her to enjoy his meal. Harry laughed silently as the otter played with her food before finishing it.

“Not eating, Harry?” Ginny asked. He shook his head as he lay back down. Staring up into the stars, he knew somewhere, Hermione was looking at the same ones, or at least he hoped so. Concentrating on the clock in his hands, he felt the otter climb onto his chest. His fingers ran across the engraved words as he stared into space, hoping to someday meet up with her again.

* * * * *

They traveled for another week, only stopping every night to rest and relieve themselves. Harry had wanted to press on, but with others traveling with him, the idea was not up to debate. He knew they were depending on him, and he on them. Luna and Ginny feel back into their pattern of best friends, leaving Harry often with just Serge and Malfoy. Harry spent most of his time alone, training either his lightning abilities or combat ones. Malfoy was gaining some training, minimal as most from Serge as he often pestered about wanting to not rely on “pot-head.”

They were now only a few miles away, deep into what Serge called enemy territory. Harry was crouched behind a tree, his sights on an old German castle. He looked to the skies, calling upon a strong storm to give them cover. Serge had taken Luna, Ginny and Malfoy to the other side, allowing him to attack solely upon this entrance. Harry padded the gun holster on his right hip and drew his katana with his left. Standing erect, Harry began to make his way toward the entrance, His otter had done some scouting but the results were inconclusive.

“Who's there?” A Death eater guard screamed against the wind. Harry smirked as he stepped with the lightning, allowing his face to become more prominent with each stroke. Harry tapped his watch and let the world slow down around him. Tick...tock...tick...tock...Harry ran forward. The Death Eater appeared to be turning around as if to call for back up.

No need for that. Harry sliced the hand that held the wand off, watching it shrivel up. More zombies. Time began to flow freely once more as struck the undead once more, an arc of light following the blade. The arc cut through the door, shattering it all into splinters. Harry covered his face as it exploded, but did not hesitate to enter. His otter began to search the place, sending him sketchy maps of the rooms. Harry smirked to himself as he looked down one of the hallways. They were coming. More undead for him to kill, or rather allow to rest. There was no stopping him now…

-->

A/N: The quote comes from one of my greatest friends. I think it applies a great deal to the chapter ahead.

I know the information about Hermione's age came out, but that only cements my notions of H/Hr. Harry is obviously into older girls, i.e. Cho. I really can't stand R/Hr, because I can't stand Ron, but I may do something with it in my next story, or the rather the continuation of this. But however it will be onesided. Ron will still be pining after Hermione, yet she won't want to have anything to do with him.

[A picture of the swallow, http://csd.varlew.net/cc/ccmerch/sergefig.jpg ]

Chapter 20:

End of Time

Hope is one of the grandest things, if not the grandest, for within her lies the answers to tomorrow's questions and the solutions to today's problems. Michael Joseph Kwiatkowski

Harry looked down the hall as he holstered his gun once more. The undead were not as slow as the DADA teachers often accredited them. They charged him, wands pointed at him. Harry felt the spells grazed his hair as he stood his ground. He readied his hand on his revolver as he waited for them. As they came within two yards or so, Harry drew the gun and fired off six quick shots before holstering it once more. He had to make them count since he had no time to reload the gun.

The undead stopped as the shots splattered the head of the first six into the others. The bullets must have passed through before Harry could see a large pile of them in the front now being climbed over. A warning came from his otter as he turned to the left to see the undead coming just as quickly. “Crap,” he whispered as he swung his katana, slicing them in half. The arc continued once more as Harry swung toward the center hallway. The arc this time began to cut through the stone as it flew horizontally. Screams filled the air, but as with his Quidditch games he began to block them out as the time slowed around him. He flinched slightly, but began to focus.

Tick, tock… tick... tock…

Time began to move at a fraction of what it was. He knew he could only keep up at this pace for a certain amount of time; five minutes seemed to be his maximum. However as he had time to watch his damage, he found a fault. The more he killed the more came after him as the halls began to fill, slowly, with them. Knowing there had to be an enormously strong necromancer at the end as he could make out skeletons as well; Harry began to fight his way through the throng of rotting limbs and bodies.

There he was. A strange glow, a combination of dull greens and ebony blacks enveloped the man. The man looked almost dead himself, paler in the dying light that surrounded the place. A Death Eater Mask covered his face. His clothes were black, ragged and torn like he had been there for a long time, placing charms and defensive Harry could see the undead rising from the mass graves around the necromancer as he waved his hands.

No more. Harry sent another arc through the air, allowing his body to slow down slightly, stepping in time with the rest of the world. His lightning arc torn through the undead, causing most of them to sliced into more than two as he quickly sent another one after it. The arcs caught up and formed a cross of sorts as they were directed toward the necromancer.

The screams grew louder and louder as resistance was met from the necromancer as a ward was activated. It was puce green with a bright yellow outline to it. The image was that of the dark mark, and Harry felt the evil emitting from the ward. He caught the diseased smirk on the necromancer's face as he drew a bastard sword. The ward and arcs dissipated as Harry recognized the attack pattern from something Serge attacked him with one day. A swarm tactic used when there was a massive outnumbering. There was just one problem with that tactic. Harry could spend almost a minute with time frozen and that was more than enough for him. The undead proved to be no obstacle; however the necromancer would create a problem. Even as Harry sped his body up to the point of freezing time, so to speak, the necromancer was not exactly slowing down either. He was not as fast as Harry was, but enough that it proved a challenge.

“Nooot assss fassstt assss youuu thouuughhht Poooottteerrrr,” the necromancer slurred. Harry smirked and sidestepped the Killing Curse sent in his direction. His otter was still scouting the surrounding areas and found something for him to know. Harry shook his head and took out his gun and a single bullet from his stash. Placing it in the chamber, Harry spun the cartridge and pointed it toward the necromancer. “Thiiiiinnnnkkk oonnnnnnee buuuullllet is going to stop me.” Harry slowed down his body as the undead remained motionless around them.

“Try a shit load,” Serge said, firing off a shot gun into the Necromancer's back. Harry closed his eyes as the blood spattered forward as well. In a sweeping motion, he finished what Serge had started. The zombies, skeletons and ghouls all remained motionless as his blade extended to the length of the room. He turned around, keeping his blade at about waist high. He met with no resistance as he did so, filling the room with split dead bodies.

“How can you stand that smell?” Malfoy said, walking up behind Serge with his wand drawn.

“Harry, catch,” Serge said tossing Harry a small bag. Looking at it then at his left arm, he opened the bag and poured the powder onto the cut, letting it heal. “Well now you just look like shit.” Harry smirked and looked at the door Serge and them came through. It looked pretty much intact, but there were body parts strung across the floor as well as embedded within the walls. “You'd be surprised what those two girls know.” Serge said as he made his way to a large pile of bodies. “The smell is nothing kid. If this place is as desecrated as I think, then we are in for a hell of a lot worse.”

Harry looked at the pile as well. Think for a moment he raised his katana, pointing it at the center of the pile. Reducto. He had found out a while back that his magical skills had reached the point of nonverbal execution. Everyone flinched as the mound was blown to the walls, the musty smell of death even more noticeable as a new hallway appeared. Harry looked them and began to reload his gun, walking down the darken hallway. He could not see the bottom, but he honestly did not care. The pain in his scar was growing.

It had begun as a dull ache as he entered the decaying castle, but now……now it was more. Still as subtle, like a snake crawling through the dark, Harry felt the growth of the pain. This was the path to Voldemort. It matter not how many me he had to kill, how many men and women had to die to reach the mad man. This was war, and war is hell. He planned to end this all, end the pain, end the war, end his pain, end his war. Voldemort had started things, Harry planned on finishing them.

“Well, which way?” Malfoy asked once they reach the end of the tunnel. In the dim light, Harry could make out three more tunnels each splitting off and going deeper into the ground.

“Welcome home, son,” a voice drawled from one of the tunnels. “You've brought friends with you, good, now come to me my son.”

“No,” Malfoy said, shaking. Ginny and Luna took hold of his arms as he held his head. Harry and Serge looked each other before looking down the tunnel where the voice came from. Serge removed his right glove, illuminating the small hall around them.

“If you come now son, your punishment will be less,” the voice said once more. The aristocratic drawl grew more prominent.

“Malfoy, blow yourself,” Serge said, firing two shots down the tunnel.

“Ah, the rapist,” Lucius Malfoy laughed.

“I am no rapist,” Serge said. The light grew stronger. This time, a light beam was sent down the tunnel and the room around them shuddered. Small rocks and dirt was shaken loose from the ceiling as Ginny and Luna helped to keep Malfoy standing. Harry stuck his blade into the wall, or what he thought was the wall. A scream echoed down the tunnels and they all turned to where the blade as the katana pierced something then stuck into the wall.

Blood trickled down the air as the blade appeared then disappeared. Smirking, allowed Serge to throw a punch at the invisible man. The cloak shifted and Serge grabbed it, tearing a large hole in it from the blade still embedded within Lucius's forearm.

“I see you decided to drop in on the party,” Serge said, taking the katana out of Harry's hands.

“You fools, you are sure to die now,” Lucius laughed at them as Malfoy stood up.

“Release your son,” Serge said, twisting the katana. Harry could hear bones breaking as Lucius screamed in agony.

“Never,” Lucius gritted through his teeth. “If I die, he'll die. The Dark Lord will revive us both, making me his general in his new world order. He'll-” Harry held the gun to Lucius's forehead, forcing the Death Eater to stop talking. “Ah the Boy-Who-Lived. Nothing to live for now.”

One. Harry held up his left hand, counting down from five.

“Release your son, and I promise you, you're death will be humane,” Serge said as Malfoy cringed once more in pain. Lucius only laughed; the man must have been used to high levels of pain as Lucius neither screamed nor scringed at Serge's twisting of the katana again.

Two. Harry pressed the barrel of the gun against Lucius's head harder.

“Did the Mudblood scream? Pettigrew was told to make them suffer when they died,” Lucius said, staring at Harry directly.

Three. Harry pulled the trigger back slightly. His anger was rising. He knew Malfoy could see it in his eyes, and that was what he expected. The father knew worse things than Harry, but that would change. He began to look at the older Malfoy. He had built his entire façade around being the strongest and most aristocratic, stuck up person in the world. He had made his decision; Lucius Malfoy would not die by Harry's hands, though he may wish that was what he had done.

“Release your son,” Serge said, removing the katana. This invoked a scream, but it was short and followed by laughter, horrible laughter that echoed even more up the halls and down the tunnels.

“My son will bow down before the Dark Lord after destroying each and everyone speck of life in your worthless souls,” Lucius said, spitting at Serge's feet. Harry grabbed the man by his hair and pulled him up. He placed the gun against Malfoy's head once more.

Four. He pulled the trigger back even more, cocking the revolver. Lucius Malfoy sneered at it. Before anyone could do anything. Harry lowered the barrel. Five.

The gunshot echoed through the halls as Harry let Lucius fell to the ground, in a fetal position. The other occupants of the room stood quiet as Harry turned and began to walk down one of the tunnels. His dull ache grew into a persistent headache as walked downward. He felt himself being tackled and thrown to the ground with a primal roar.

“You bastard,” Malfoy said as he threw a punch. Harry felt the pain slam through his jaw twice more before Malfoy was taken off of him.

“That was a bit cruel Harry,” Serge said. Harry glared at them for a moment. “Then again, so is taking your best friends from you.”

“Why didn't you kill him? He deserves to die,” Malfoy screamed as Serge held him back. Harry looked at Malfoy for a moment then at Ginny and Luna, both had shock written across their faces, yet there was a hint of anger in Ginny's. He walked over to Malfoy and stood inches from him.

“No one else but Voldemort will die by my hands,” Harry said in a low tone. His voice was now almost harsh. “You've father does not deserve death. Maybe life as a eunuch will change that.” He smirked as Malfoy struggled in Serge's grip. He turned around and began to survey the surround walls.

They were cleaner and not as dark. Ahead in the tunnel there were lanterns along the walls, giving them minimal light. Low chants were evident from the tunnel. Harry knelt and listened carefully. He looked to see his otter next to him. Petting her gently, he smiled slightly at the thought of Hermione's Patronus. The otter scurried down the hall and Harry allowed half of his sight to be dominated by the otter's vision.

At the bottom of tunnel, he saw an altar and Voldemort stood behind it, dressed in similar robes to the necromancer, with the exception that the robes were cleaner and more extravagant. Around the room, Death Eaters were about, standing with hunched shoulders and frightened stances. The otter crawled closer, and he spotted the woman who made his veins turn to ice: Bellatrix Lestrange. In a spontaneous burst of control, Harry prevented himself from running head first into the chamber below him.

The otter ran back up the tunnel and Harry turned to see Serge still holding back Malfoy as Ginny and Luna stared at him. “They're down there, aren't they?” Ginny asked. The fear was evident in her voice, but Harry nodded nonetheless. “What are we going to do?”

“We're going down there and finishing this,” Serge said, releasing Malfoy. “You're going to hurt us or join us. I've got no qualms with making you like your father up the way.” Serge pointed at the tunnel entrance. “Now, Harry, you going in there first?” Harry nodded, looking back down the tunnel. The end of it all was ahead of him, at the light at the end of the tunnel. He smirked at the romantic irony.

“You two, I want you both to make sure that no one leaves from this entrance,” Serge pointed at Malfoy and Ginny. “Luna, I'll need your help to keep me fully healed, and covered, when we get down there. Most of us can't move as fast as Harry.” Harry did not look back; rather he removed the pocket watch and opened it.

Staring into the content photograph, Harry relished in the chance to end all of his pain. He knew that this would be the end of it all today, whether he survived or not. If he survived, he might get a chance to meet up with Hermione again in Another World. But from Serge's world, the travel was deadly. If not, he'd meet her in heaven when her time was over. Or he'd be tortured by her happiness in heaven while he was in hell. Anyway he looked at it, he was going to get a chance to see her again. A win/win situation if he was asked.

Serge's arm changed to a color of darkness, leaving the only light from what was at the bottom of the tunnel, the chamber. Harry looked over at the eerie form, smirking.

“Fight fire with fire,” Serge said softly.

Harry reached back into his pouch, fingering the orb he had removed from his pouch. It was the largest out of all of his, reminding him of a Time Turner. He knew his father was within the smaller of the two and it had been almost three months since he had talked with him. Sirius was within the red one, so maybe his mother was within the other white one. Granted he still had no clue as to how they worked, but it gave him confidence nevertheless. He remembered Guile words about how an army of angels would assist him. He prayed for them as he slid the orb back into the slot within his katana. He had removed it long ago, and now a new strength flowed through him…

“Into the lion's den,” Serge said as he moved behind Harry. “Fighting a group of lions with a Gryffindor, should be interesting…” Harry smirked as well, holding his finger to his lips. Serge nodded and looked behind him. Luna must be there, but Harry could not see her.

Harry moved forward as Serge pointed his arm toward lanterns. One by one, in a puff of black smoke they were put out. The sound of commotion below forced Harry to block out the sounds once more. He saw the outline of Serge nod as the last of the lanterns were put out. A commotion was heard from the chamber, but Harry took no notice. He sprinted down the tunnel—ready to take on the hordes of Death Eaters he had seen only moments before.

A quiet surrounded him, and eerie quiet, and this scared him. Harry stood in the center of the room, right before the altar, pivoting to look at everything. A bizarre green light lit the torches along the walls. Bellatrix stood next to a young man with dark hair, a man Harry had only seen twice before. But the eyes were the same, those damn eyes.

“Riddle,” Harry muttered with hate. He did not know how or why, but there was no mistaking the man before him to be the Dark Lord, Thomas Marvolo Riddle, Lord Voldemort. It was the same man from the Chamber of Secrets, the man that tried to kill Ginny. The ache in his forehead was almost unbearable, almost. So much pain filled this room, so much hate, and distrust and… “You killed them all, didn't you?”

“Right in one Potter,” he said, staring down at Harry from above the altar. “It was necessary mind you, but nevertheless some of it does seem to be a waste…”

“Bastard.” Harry said.

“I'll second that,” Serge said, appearing behind Harry. He looked at Serge for a moment, not spotting Luna. She must be hanging back. “I always thought that vanity was a woman's prerogative.” Riddle snarled at him before focusing his attention on Harry.

“It appears you've brought help with you. Though I suspect he'll be going as well.” The altar was lowered to the ground and Harry could see a knife point out of the chest of a rat of a man. “I've got your message, though I'm hurt by your lies. There is no hell with you. Only an accused rapist and three children, two of them girls.” A shrill laughter filled the air. Wormtail was impaled upon the table, shock and pain filling his eyes. It was not a swift death, nor an easy one.

“What have you done?” Serge asked, holding his swallow, the double-bladed sword with a large shaft between the blades.

“I'm a changed man, a better man,” Riddle said stepping down from the altar. Bellatrix remained up there, and sat down, staring at them seductively. She drew circles in the blood pooled around Wormtail as she now stared at Riddle. He walked closer to Harry, studying him. “You've grown, Potter. Though you hide your abilities. Fascinating…”

“What the hell do you want?” Harry looked back at Bellatrix for a moment as she licked the blood off her hand.

“To raise Lavos of course.” Riddle said with a cruel laugh.

“NO!” Luna ran into the room. Harry caught her, shielding her from him. Wrapping his free arm around her, he kept his eyes on Riddle as the man turned to watch them. “You can't!”

“I can, and I will,” Riddle said. He raised his hand and threw them down quickly, filling the room with light. As it cleared, Harry could make the outline of a glowing pentagram on the floor, with the altar in the center.

Harry looked at Luna for a moment as Riddle turned his back to them. “Lavos is a creature buried at the center of the earth. It's from there that we get all of the heat, beyond the sun. He's been drawing off the world's mystical energies for the last couple billion years. He was called the Red Star, a translation from the language of the Lizards who ruled during that time. His crash into our planet sent the world into an ice age, killing off that civilization and allowed ours to thrive. But now after so long...” Her voice trailed off in fear as she paled.

“He'll be unstoppable,” Riddle said turning back to the altar. “And he'll be mine to control!” He began to laugh again, but the room grew dark.

“You're wrong,” Guile said, stepping in from a large shadow. “You will fail; there is no doubt upon that. The Black wind howls.”

“Be gone, you fools are no longer a concern of mine,” Riddle said, turning his back to them once more. “Bella?” She looked up from licking another finger covered in blood. “Dispose of these nuisances.” Bellatrix did a flip in the air, separating Harry and Luna from Serge and Guile.

“He's a full necromancer now,” Serge said, dodging a spell that Lestrange sent his way. “He must have given her some of his powers!” The room grew dark for a moment, the only light the pentagram, and now a circle that surrounded it.

“You have to stop him,” Guile said, floating above the ground. Undead were rising from their places on the floor and began to attack him. Bellatrix looked paler than when Harry had last met her, as well as her skin seemed to be sinking in. “Harry! Its up to you!” He nodded and jumped over an advancing attack onto the altar.

“Trying to stop me?” Riddle asked him with a sneer. Harry smirked, but lost it as a large blade made of bone appeared in Riddle's hands, attempting to cut Harry in two. With his katana, he managed to block it, and rolled off the now cleaned altar. Wormtail's body had joined the masses only moments before he landed. “You know you'll never win.”

Harry smirked before sending a bolt of lightning the man's way, causing him to jump back. Riddle jumped back, his body convulsing from the shocks. Touching the angel's orb on his katana, he felt a calmness go through him. He did not know who this Lavos was, or what he was, but knew that Guile, a man who showed no fear, had spoke out against the resurrection of such a creature. Besides, anything Riddle thought to be good was bad, no discussion there.

“Cute,” Riddle sneered once he gained control of his body once more. “Mine's worse. Crucio!” Harry had nowhere to dodge to and was forced to take the blunt of the curse. He tried to fight it off, and did so for a moment before he felt it double in intensity. With what little vision that was no spotted, he saw Bellatrix pointing her wand at him.

“Feel the pain child,” Riddle said as Harry gave up attempting to block it. His body began to convulse even worse Riddle's had.

“Harry. No, get up.” Hermione's voice filled his mind as his managed to get to his pocket watch. Touching it slightly, he felt the pain subside, enough to grasp onto his katana.

“What?” Lestrange said, stopping her spell. Harry stood up and turned to face her. He felt Riddle's spell increasing in pain, as did his scar. It felt like it was about to spilt open and he knew a string of red sweat was rolling down his face. He felt the electricity rolling this his body, adding to the pain and torment that the Cruitatus curse caused.

“You took Sirius from me,” Harry spoke. His voice was hard and raspy; it was hardly audible as he could see the confused look on the murder's face. “You took away Padfoot!” Harry screamed his throat on fire.

“Master?” Bellatrix sounded confused and frightened. Harry stared at her with complete detest as she looked between him and Riddle. The Dark Lord attempted to increase the pain, but Harry was beyond that point of feeling.

“Luminare!” Harry cried. He felt the lightning in his chest burst forward as he floated above the ground. His hair stood on ends and the world around him began to crinkle from the static. Spreading his arms outward, he stared at the ceiling, silently screaming. The lightning in his chest, in his heart, began to expand outward. He closed his eyes as he felt the energy inside of his subside—yet the pain did not.

Tick, tock…

Tick, tock…

Harry opened his eyes to the world around him, frozen. Everything was covered in a dome of lightning, originating from him. He could not move, could not do anything as he felt his energy fade completely and the world around him moving.

Bellatrix was no more. What she was, what was left of her was a pile of ashes upon the ground. As the same for the undead that surrounded them. Harry could not lift up his arms, let alone his sword, turning to see Voldemort still standing. There was no Riddle left. Harry had killed him. Whatever compassion remained in the man was no more.

Before Harry stood a man who he knew to be the epitome of evil. There was no other word to describe it. The man looked the same, but the power behind the now glowing red eyes was horrible. Harry choked on his own blood as he attempted to breathe, coughing it up.

“The great Potter is no more,” the voice was shrill, high almost. It sounded insane—there was no doubt of that, and the power behind those eyes made the man even more insane. He turned back to the altar, and Harry couldn't make out the words, or rather the language. It was Latin; that was all he knew.

“No,” Guile said, coming forward. His body floated in the air. “I made the same mistake once; I won't let you do so.” A bolt of red threw Guile to the side of the room. Harry vaguely saw Luna rush to his side. Serge had done as he'd promised. He had protected her, now it was time for him to what he had promise. He'd stop Voldemort.

“Harry,” Serge rolled a vile of something toward him. “Drink it.” Serge looked like he was ready to collapse as well. Harry did his best to wrap his fingers around the small potion and brought it too his lips. A cool liquid made its way down his throat as he felt his energy returning to him. Not as much as he had at the start of the day, but enough to do what he planned on doing.

“Riddle,” Harry said, standing up swaying slightly.

“My name is Lord Voldemort,” he said, turning around. The man's eyes were ablaze as he stared down Harry.

“Okay Lord Monkey-butt,” Harry said with a smirk. Today was the most he had talked in about a month, and it felt good, almost. A snarl came from the man's lips as he lunged for Harry. He dodged, but did not tap into his lightning abilities; if he was right, there was only enough for one shot, and he needed to make it count.

“You fool, I could kill you with a thought,” Voldemort was on the opposite side of the room. Harry had noticed the small portal beginning to form at the center of the pentagram as the man dove at him. Harry smirked, going back to his silent mode. He like it better, allowed him not to be seen as much. It did not help a great deal at the moment because Voldemort was staring directly at him.

Harry shrugged as Voldemort lunged again, this time firing a blast from his eyes, similar to the one that took down Guile. He dodged and the blast took apart the wall, causing the room to shudder. The portal was growing and Harry now was facing the entrance, he could see Ginny and Malfoy both standing there in shock of what was happening. The portal had grown to the size of a door and Harry felt it was closing in on him. Rolling to his left, the portal took his place against the wall.

Harry stared deep into it. A water substance filled it, black and blue though it never mixed. It was easily distinguishable as they shifted around within the portal. At the bottom, or what he thought was the bottom, Harry could see a large turtle like creature.

“Lavos beckons,” Voldemort said. The turtle was growing bigger and bigger.

Now or never. Harry used the last of his energy to increase his speed. Tick… tick… tick… Time came to a halt as Voldemort froze in midlaugh. Tightening his hold on his katana, Harry ran forward, with considering how fast he was moving at the moment anyway… Grabbing Voldemort by the waist, Harry threw him toward the portal. Tick, tock, tick, tock. Time returned to normal as Harry impaled the shocked man.

“Good show,” Voldemort said, grabbing onto Harry's collar. “But I'm afraid, if I'm going down, you'll have to come with me.”

“See you in hell,” Harry whispered, twisting the katana. Voldemort cringed as Harry spoke his last words. “Aglignis.” Several bolts flew from the tip of the katana, and connected with the man. His face contorted from the amount of energy being sent through him. Voldemort had never have been one to take pain well, yet he always gave it away like a disease.

The lightning flowed from Voldemort's body. Harry felt some of it igniting his body as well, giving him a bit more strength. He twisted the katana again and withdrew it, sending Voldemort into the void below. He did not scream as his body was overcome with convulsions from the electricity still flowing through his veins. Harry turned his back to them, feeling a small fire beginning in his pocket. The pocket where he kept the watch Hermione gave him. He reached there in an attempt to save the watch only to be overcome with pain once more.

Before he could tell what happened, the world turned dark…………

* * * * *

“There we go,” Serge said. Harry felt his cheek being slapped a couple of times before opening his eyes. “He's coming back to us.” Harry groggily sat up, trying to gain his bearings.

What? Harry opened his mouth but found no words would come out. He felt two arms wind their way around his neck, crying. He looked to see the blond hair covering his shoulder as Luna cried into his shoulder. Looking through a dimly lit darkness he saw Guile, Serge, Ginny, and Malfoy all looking at him strangely. His free hand went to his pocket where the explosion started, searching for the watch.

“A friend of mine took it Harry, he's repairing it as we speak,” Guile said, kneeling next to him. Harry gave him a questioning look. “We are at the end of time, Harry.” Harry gave him another questioning look as Luna let go and allowed him to stand.

The world around him was filled with stars off in the distance. He was currently standing on a cobbled platform, something taken from London circa 1880s or so. A fence enclosed a single lamppost. There were two paths, each in opposite directions. A bucket was in one corner of this fenced off area and where they currently stood. A door way was in front of him, but it did not appear to have much behind it.

“The magic overloaded in you pocket watch, and in combination with the portal, brought us here,” Guile said, motioning to the world around him. “It's about time that we go back though.” Harry nodded and they all followed Guile to the path at the left. Harry looked down the one at the right, surprised to see it ending abruptly, with the cobble looking like it was hanging in mid-air. Half of his body would have like to stay and study this place, whereas part of him was ready to go and find Hermione and Ron. He felt the pull of finding them more as he walked to where his friends were waiting.

There were two pillars of light, one each side of the small platform. A man in a bowler cap and something like a tuxedo stood there, explaining something. The hat was pulled down to hide the man's eyes. He looked to be older than Serge was, but not as old as Dumbledore was Harry caught the tail end of the conversation as he walked up.

“-to the right is the one that will lead you back to Hogwarts, right by the lake there in fact,” the man said in a quiet, drowsy voice. It appeared as though he may have slept a great deal. “Step one by one through it.” He motioned toward Ginny to go first. “Don't be scared child; it'll be similar to your portkeys.” Harry looked around the room as Ginny stepped into the pillar.

The room was similar to the previous on, however with the only distinction being the pillars of light, and the lamppost. Harry turned back to see Ginny disappear into the pillar of light. Luna shrieked slightly and turned into his arms. Nothing he thought could scare him after seeing that monster within the void. He wrapped his arms around her, trying to comfort her.

“Mister Malfoy, I believe you are next,” the man said. He nodded, though looked at him suspiciously. Malfoy stepped into the portal and disappeared. “Serge is you'd be so kind, make sure they're not getting into any trouble.” A small smirk appeared on both of their faces as Serge stepped forward.

“Harry, if I don't see you again, good luck,” Serge said with a knowing smirk. He went through immediately before Harry could say anything.

“Young lady, I believe it is time to say goodbye,” the old man said.

“What are you talking about?” Luna asked, pulling out of Harry's chest. He gave both Guile and the old man a questioning look. What goodbye? He'd see her in a few moments.

“Harry will not be returning with you,” the old man said. “I believe this is yours.” He held out his hand, showing the pocket watch. Harry greedily took it, looking it over to make sure everything was in its place. Tears came to his eyes as he looked at the picture of him and Hermione. He looked at the old man, thanks in his eyes. “You're welcome.”

“Where is Harry going?” Luna asked, looking at Guile this time.

“Where he is needed. Where he wishes to be.” Guile said.

“Magus, please escort this young lady back as I have a discussion with young Mister Potter here about two of his friends,” the old man said. Harry's face felt like it was going to explode. He felt like he was going to explode. There was a chance that he would be seeing Hermione and Ron again. This man was going to help him.

“You mean…” Luna's voice trailed off for a moment. “I'm going with you.”

“What? Impossible, inconceivable,” the old man said.

“She has lost her loved one too,” Guile said, looking at Luna. She blushed under his gaze. “Even if he is a bit dimwitted at times.” Luna glared at him, while Harry gave a silent laugh. “If Harry promises to teach her where they're going…” His voice fell off as Harry nodded. “Very well, I shall check up on you two from time to time. Maybe bring letters and such, more books.” He smiled and gave them both a short hug. “Good luck Harry.” He smiled at them, a rarity, and stepped into the pillar.

“Very well,” the old man said. “You two stand at the End of Time and my name is Gaspar.”

-->