Summer Writing Series Challenge: Truffles's Response by Truffles

Rating: PG13
Genres: Drama, Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 19/07/2004
Last Updated: 31/08/2004
Status: Completed

This is a collection of my belated responses to the Summer Writing Series Challenge started by
Tawny Spitfyre, which is being updated at our LJ Community!




1. A Not-So-Deceitful Letter
----------------------------

**Summer Writing Series Challenge** (July 12)
**Challenge:** Single Story Week: Harry/Hermione receives an anonymous gift/card/letter that
they think is from the other...but it's not.
**Challenge Conditions:** Each day we'll post a challenge topic as usual, but each
consecutive day you will continue your story from the day before...and on Friday you'll have a
6000+ word story that flows from beginning to end and includes each of the daily challenges as
given.
**Title:** A Not-So-Deceitful Letter
**Word Count:** 1,235

It was three o’clock in the morning. The sun had yet to rise and Hogwarts School of Witchcraft
and Wizardry was encased in darkness. The castle was quiet and no soul was awake. Well, they
weren’t *supposed* to be, anyways. A rustle of clothing and shuffle of feet pierced the
stillness.

“They are going to kill us when they find out,” a male voice whispered.

“Why would they? They should be thankful we’re doing this,” another voice, this time a female,
whispered back matter-of-factly. “I mean, they’re practically put on this earth just to be with
each other. Everybody can see that, except them. We’re just going to give them a *little* push
in the right direction, that’s all.”

They were crouched in a dorm, the Head Girl of Hogwarts’s to be specific. The girl, a sixth-year
Gryffindor, straightened and tip-toed over to the nightstand and placed two objects on it, careful
not to wake the occupant of the room who was sleeping peacefully in the four poster bed.

“There, it’s done,” whispered Ginevra Weasley to the figure beside her, Ronald Weasley, when she
returned to their original position by the door. “Everything’s in place. Now, let’s go back to bed
and get some rest for what remains of the night.”

~ * ~ * ~

Hermione Granger woke at exactly seven o’clock in the morning as her alarm clock went off. Not
that she could have told that it was seven from the clock, for it did not show the time as a
regular clock that you may find in the non-magical world, but phrases like “Time to do homework.”
Currently it read, “Time to wake up.”

As Hermione swung her legs over the side of her bed thinking about the two-feet long
Transfiguration paper, she noticed something on her nightstand that wasn’t there last night when
she went to bed. There lay a single red rose and a light pink envelope with her name on it.

She looked at the rose questioningly and then picked up the envelope. Inside there was a letter,
delicately folded in half. Unfolding the letter she read:

Dearest Hermione,

I have a confession to make. As I could not find the courage to tell you this in person, I have
decided to tell you in this letter. So, I’m going to be bold and just say it.

I love you.

And I’d like to more than just your friend. You don’t know how long I wanted to tell you that.
There’s also something I’d like to ask you.

Will you go out with me on a date in Hogsmeade this Friday?.

With Love,

Harry

Her Transfiguration paper that’s due in two weeks very much forgotten, Hermione sat on her bed
in a daze.

Harry loves her. He *loves* her, and not just in the platonic way. He actually loves her.
And he asked her on a date to Hogsmeade on Friday.

How long had she waited for this day, not that she ever thought that it would come. The day when
Harry returned her feelings. The day when Harry told her that he thought of her as more than just a
friend. It must have been in her third year when she first realized of her love for her
raven-haired best friend.

But she knew that he didn’t love her that way. Which is why she never admitted her feelings to
him, fearing rejection. Now that he’s admitted his love for her, there was nothing stopping her
from snogging him senseless.

Grabbing her bag, the rose, and the letter, she practically ran out of her room to find Harry.
When she entered the adjourning Head Boy’s dorm, she was disappointed to find that Harry had
already left for breakfast.

Making her way down the stairs, Hermione couldn’t help the goofy grin plastered on her face. She
walked through the hallways down to the Great Hall humming happily.

When she spotted Harry sitting at the Gryffindor table piling breakfast onto his plate, she all
but ran across the Great Hall to Harry like a madwoman. She unceremoniously pulled Harry from his
seat and kissed him full on the lips.

When they broke apart from the kiss, she said breathlessly, “YES! Yes, Harry. I’d love to go to
Hogsmeade with you on Friday and I love you too!”

To say that Harry was shocked was a huge understatement. Looking at Hermione oddly, he asked,
“Y-you love me? What are you talking about?”

Hermione felt her smile fade at his words. “What do you mean what am I talking about? You asked
me to go to Hogsmeade with you on Friday, didn’t you?” Hermione said waving the letter in front of
him. “Didn’t you say that you love me?”

Harry took the letter from her hand and scanned it. His face paled when his eyes fell upon his
name at the bottom. He opened his mouth to say something but closed them again when nothing came
out.

Hermione watched Harry’s reaction closely, half expecting him to suddenly smile and yell, “I was
just kidding! Of course I love you!” But when his face paled and his eyes rescanned the letter, she
knew he wasn’t playing with her. She was suddenly very aware of the whole school staring at the
pair of them.

“S-so you didn’t w-write this?” she asked softly.

When Harry shook his head dumbly at her, Hermione felt her heart break. Harry didn’t love her.
This was just someone’s idea of a cruel joke. She felt the tears well up in her eyes.

“B-but, if you didn’t write this, then who did?” she asked weakly.

“We did,” said a voice from across the table. As she turned to look at the speaker, she felt her
last hope die. She had to get out of here, away from everyone. She ran, tear falling freely down
her face, not hearing Ginny calling after her.

Ron looked apologetically at Harry said, “I’m so sorry mate, we were just trying to get you guys
together. It wasn’t supposed to turn out like this.”

With one last look at Ginny and Ron’s guilty faces, he ran after Hermione. He found her sobbing
under a tree by the lake. As he approached, she turned toward him.

“L-look, I’m really sorry, Harry. I-I didn’t mean to embarrass you in there. It’s just that I
really like you-“

“And I really like you too.”

“-and I shouldn’t have kis- w-what?”

“I said I really like to you too.” And then, Harry kissed her. Hermione felt her eyes flutter
close as their lips touched.

When Harry pulled away, he was grinning widely. “Scratch that, I love you, Hermione. I’m sorry I
didn’t tell you in there, I just so surprised.”

“Oh Harry! I love you too. I always have. Ever since third year, with our adventure with the
Time-Turner.”

Harry looked a bit taken aback by the lengthiness of the time she hid her feelings but instead
of commenting on it, he asked, “So, is our date on Friday still on, Ms. Granger?”

“But of course, can’t let that wonderfully romantic idea, that must have taken Ron hours to come
up with, pass by that easily, can we? By the way, what *are* going to do to them for this
trick?” Hermione asked with a wicked grin.

Harry laughed. “I think we should thank them. *After* they go through a very lengthy
guilt-trip.”



2. The Return of Rita Skeeter
-----------------------------

**Summer Writing Series Challenge** (July 13)
**Challenge:** Single Story Week: Harry/Hermione deal with the media discussing their
relationship.
**Challenge Conditions:** Each day we'll post a challenge topic as usual, but each
consecutive day you will continue your story from the day before...and on Friday you'll have a
6000+ word story that flows from beginning to end and includes each of the daily challenges as
given.
**Title:** The Return of Rita Skeeter
**Word Count:** 1,000

Hermione leaned in for another kiss before they went back. Just as they were about to pull
apart, a bright flash went off.

“Colin! Get away from us!” Harry yelled angrily as they sprang apart. He looked around for the
sixth-year Gryffindor, but Colin was nowhere in sight.

“Never mind, Harry,” Hermione laid a claming hand on Harry, but her frown showed that she was
uneasy.

As they walked back toward the castle, they saw Ron and Ginny waiting for them outside. Ginny
looked close to tears.

“I’m really, really sorry, Hermione. Please believe me, we didn’t think it would turn out this way.
And I know you’re mad at us, but we really hope you can forgive us. I’m just so sorry,” Ginny
babbled out in one breath.

“You know what, Ginny? I forgive you. Actually, I- we want to thank you two,” Hermione said. When
Ron and Ginny looked at her confusedly, Harry added, “After all, without that silly letter of
yours, Hermione and I would’ve never gotten together.”

“And that date idea? We thought that was brilliant. Thanks!” Hermione then took Harry’s hand and
they walked toward the castle trying, and failing miserably, to hide their mirth at Ron and Ginny’s
bewilderment, leaving the two staring slack-jawed at their retreating backs.

“D-did you hear what I heard? They’re together?” Ron asked dumbly.

Ginny just nodded and then suddenly she broke out in a wide grin. “I am so brilliant! I knew all
along our plan would work.”

Ron snapped out of his daze at that comment and scoffed, “Who are you kidding? Knew all long that
our plan would work? As if! Who was the one practically on her knees begging for their
forgiveness?”

Ginny just glared at her older brother before sticking her nose in the air and stalking away.

~ * ~ * ~

Friday morning was glorious. The sun shined throughout the castle illuminating the “ceiling-less”
dining hall. For Hermione, there’s no better way to start a day that will end with a romantic date
with Harry.

As she entered the Great Hall, she couldn’t help but notice the disgusted looks people gave her.
After her dramatic confession the other day, people regarded her with pity and mockery. But when
Harry and she became an “official” couple, the looks of pity became looks of envy and, in some,
even respect. Now however, there was no envy in people’s eyes, only reproach. Hermione suddenly
felt very disturbed.

Quickly she made her way over to the Gryffindor table. Ron and Harry had yet to arrive. Ginny was
engrossed in an article in the Daily Prophet, with a deep frown on her face.

“Good morning, Ginny,” Hermione greeted her female friend brightly. “Anything interesting?” she
gestured at the newspaper.

Ginny looked up sharply at the sound of Hermione’s voice. “What? Oh, n-no, nothing much, just the
usual, you know,” Ginny said, while attempting to shove the Prophet under the seat.

Hermione frowned, and her suspicion deepened. “There’s an article in there about me, isn’t
there?”

“No!” Ginny replied too quickly. “I-I mean, of course not. Why would there be?”

“Ginny,” Hermione said with a warning tone. “I want to see it. If that Skeeter woman wrote anythi-,
just give it here.” Hermione extended her hand out.

Having no other choice, Ginny handed her friend the paper. Hermione took the paper and scanned
through the front page. And there, in the middle of the page, was a picture of her and Harry
kissing. The picture that was taken the other day, when they were under the tree. Her eyes moved to
the text.

Hermione Granger at Work Again

Hermione Granger, Head Girl of Hogwarts, might be at work with the Love Potions once again, writes
Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondence. As readers might remember, only three years back, Hermione, a
Muggle-born witch, was uncovered playing with the heart of famous Quidditch star Victor Krum and
young Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived and Defeater of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

Witnesses confirm that on Tuesday, Hermione Granger publicly confessed her love for our young hero,
which he denied. But only hours later, the two mysteriously became *the* couple of Hogwarts.
Readers might wonder how this happened.

“You didn’t see the look on Harry’s face when she confessed her love for him, he clearly did not
return the feeling,” says Pansy Parkinson, a classmate of Hermione and Harry.

So then, how indeed was it that our young witch snatched the heart of Harry Potter once again? Love
Potion, of course, is the answer. Love Potion causes the drinker to fall in love with the first
person he or she sees.
Love Potion is also banned on Hogwarts grounds. So, if Hermione Granger is indeed brewing forbidden
potions, can she be trusted with responsibility as great as that of Head Girl?

Hermione stared at the paper, while Ginny looked at her nervously. Her suspicions were confirmed.
It was Rita Skeeter who took the picture of Harry and her kissing, the other day on the
grounds.

“How dare she!” came Ron’s voice from behind her. Hermione had been so absorbed in the article that
she hadn’t noticed Ron and Harry who had came to breakfast and read the article over her
shoulder.

“Honestly Ron, it’s just a pile of rubbish. I can’t believe are so gullible to believe such
things.” Hermione huffed and glared at one of the girls who were staring at her.

“I thought you had her under control?” Ginny asked.

“I did. Until a few weeks ago,” muttered Hermione. “She’s a registered Animagus now.”

“But I thought she was banned from Hogwarts ground?” Ron asked.

“No. Technically, she was only banned during the Tri-Wizard Tournament,” answered Hermione
darkly.

“So, she’s back to doing what she was doing before, except now, she has permission,” Harry said
quietly, speaking the first time since he read the article. “She can write whatever she wants, but
nothing will separate me from my girl. Ready for the date tonight, ‘Mione?”



3. A Confession and a Fairy Godmother
-------------------------------------

**Summer Writing Series Challenge** (July 14)
**Challenge:** Single Story Week: Harry/Hermione is confronted by a former crush.
**Challenge Conditions:** Each day we'll post a challenge topic as usual, but each
consecutive day you will continue your story from the day before...and on Friday you'll have a
6000+ word story that flows from beginning to end and includes each of the daily challenges as
given.
**Title:** A Confession and a Fairy Godmother
**Word Count:** 1,000

So as Friday went on, and the date with Harry loomed closer, Hermione couldn’t help but feel
giddy. And nervous, she was nervous. *It’s* just *Harry*, she would scold herself. But
then, just Harry? That didn’t serve him justice. Harry, who had been her best friend for six years,
six months, and twenty-two days. Harry, who had been her boyfriend for three days, five hours, and
14 minutes. But who’s counting? Really. Just Harry? Hermione didn’t think so.

Presently, after lunch, Hermione found herself, surprisingly, looking through her closet, a very
nifty advantage of being Head Girl *if* you for any reason wanted to bring twenty suitcases of
clothing to Hogwarts, for a suitable attire for tonight. Professor McGonagall’d canceled today’s
N.E.W.T. class. Something about a second-year, who blew up the classroom when attempting to
transfigure a cup into a mouse. She had to send fourteen students up to the Hospital Wing. Not even
Neville could’ve managed that, Hermione mused to herself.

Hermione glared sourly at her two dress robes. The periwinkle-blue robe she wore to the Yule
Ball three years ago wasn’t a choice. Though the size was charmed to fir the wearer, Harry had
already seen it. Besides, it was too much of a reminder of the rather unpleasant two days as
Victor’s girlfriend. Things were much pleasanter when they were just pen pals, though N.E.W.T.’s
had surely made their former very frequent and lengthy correspondence rather scarce, much to Ron’s
delight. The second dress, which was in a rather bright orange color, was definitely not going to
work. There were bright pink frills on the neckline as well as the sleeves. Hermione had no idea
*what* she’d been thinking when she let Aunt Bridget, who revealed herself as a witch during
the summer between fifth and sixth year, convince her to buy it. No, it wouldn’t do at all.

Hermione sat on her four-poster bed scowling. She wouldn’t have time to go Hogsmeade to get a
dress, even though as Head Girl she was allowed. Glancing at her watch, she jumped slightly at the
time. She had exactly two minutes to get to Charms.

Running through the halls in a very un-Hermione manner, she reached the classroom only
thirty-two seconds late. Rushing in and muttering a quiet “Sorry, Professor Flitwick,” Hermione
walked to where Harry and Ron sitting. Hermione could still remember her delight when she found out
that she, Harry, and Ron would be in three N.E.W.T. classes, Transfiguration, Charms, Defense
Against the Dark Arts, and astonishingly, Potions, together.

When Professor Flitwick finally let them leave, Hermione was surprised to feel a light tap on
her shoulder. Turning around she saw Parvati Patil, a fellow seventh-year Gryffindor, standing
there.

“Hey, Hermione. I was wondering if I could er- maybe talk to you. Alone?” Parvati said glancing
at Harry and Ron, who were waiting for her by the door.

“Of course,” Hermione smiled before waving the boys ‘goodbye’ yelling over the noise that she’ll
be along in a moment. Turning toward the other girl, she asked, “So, what do need to talk to me
about?”

“Well, I just wanted to apologize,” Parvati said, nervously avoiding her eyes.

“For what?”

Parvati took a deep breath before continuing, “I know I haven’t been very nice to you for the
past days.” To be honest, Hermione can’t say that she’s noticed, but didn’t comment on it. “And I’m
just really sorry. I guess I was just jealous of you.”

“You were jealous of me?” Hermione asked incredulously.

“Hermione. You’re the envy of every girl at Hogwarts! I mean, you’re the smartest witch to
attend Hogwarts in centuries. You’re beautiful. You’ve got Harry’s friendship, and now, you’ve even
got his heart. Who wouldn’t want to be you?” Parvati listed off. “But, that gave me no right to not
like you. I-I was just mad that you were able to win Harry’s heart when no other girl was able to
do it, when *I* wasn’t able to. But when I saw him look at you today even after that horrible
article by that despicable woman, I know that my silly little crush is nothing compared to your
love. Harry deserves someone like you. And I just hope that you can forgive me.”

Hermione was stunned by Parvati’s sincere confession and apology. “Don’t worry about it.
Everyone gets jealous once in a while. I just didn’t know that I was that- that *popular*. And
thank you for your approval, haven’t got too many of those these days.”

“Oh Hermione, thank you so much for understanding. I swear that none of the Gryffindors and
Ravenclaws will give you any more trouble. And I really hope you and Harry will have a nice date
tonight.” She gave Hermione a light hug before turning to walk away.

Just then Hermione’s mind registered something Parvati had said. “Wait, Parvati! D-did you just
say that I was beautiful?”

“Sure, I mean you’ve got the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen you have a lovely face,” Parvati
frowned slightly as she ran her hand through Hermione’s hair. “Your hair might need some work, but
with some light make-up and a dress that’ll show off your curves, Harry won’t even recognize
you!”

“Hey, Parvati, I have a favor to ask you. I’m having some trouble preparing for tonight, I mean,
I don’t even have a dress, and I don’t know the first thing about make-up. Do you think that maybe
you could er- help me?”

At this Parvati’s eyes lit up. “Really? You want my help?”

“Yeah, I really want to look special for our first date,” Hermione said, blushing.

“Oh! You have my word. Hermione, tonight, you will look more beautiful than a princess right out
of a fairy tale book! I have the *perfect* dress for you! It’ll fit you magnificently. And
we’d have use something that’ll accent those gorgeous eyes you have and…,” Parvati ranted on as
they made their way towards Gryffindor Tower.

A/N: I’m trying :) The stories for the past days are my very sad attempt at light-hearted humor
and romance, I’m not quite sure this is working out. LOL.



4. A Date Under the Sea
-----------------------

**Summer Writing Series Challenge** (July 15)
**Challenge:** Single Story Week: Harry/Hermione travel somewhere together.
**Challenge Conditions:** Each day we'll post a challenge topic as usual, but each
consecutive day you will continue your story from the day before...and on Friday you'll have a
6000+ word story that flows from beginning to end and includes each of the daily challenges as
given.
**Title:** A Date Under the Sea
**Word Count:** 1,000

To say that Harry was stunned as his gaze fell upon Hermione when she made her way down the
stairs from the Head Girl’s dorm must be the understatement of the century.

Her bushy hair had been straightened and was hanging just below her shoulders. The make-up she
wore so light and delicately applied that Harry could hardly tell, and only because he knew how she
looked without it. But they highlighted her chocolate brown eyes quite nicely. She wore a soft pink
robe that looked like something between a muggle evening gown and a wizarding dress robe. It had a
pale pink fitted bodice top with spaghetti straps and a gown skirt, slightly darker than the top,
that flowed down to the ground gracefully. Though the dress was quite modest, the flowing material
still clung snugly to Hermione’s body bringing out her curves and emphasizing her slender
shoulders. She looked more beautiful than Harry had ever seen her.

But it wasn’t the make-up or the gown that made Hermione beautiful to Harry. Anybody could’ve
thrown on an extravagant dress or make-up and have looked pretty. But it was that glow of warmth
and happiness that radiated from Hermione that made her stand out from the rest.

“Hermione, you look gorgeous,” Harry said softly when she reached the bottom.

“Thank you,” Hermione blushed while Parvati grinned with pride at the top of the stairs. “You
don’t look too shabby yourself.”

“So, um- are you ready to go?” Harry offered her his arm, quite aware of the eyes of everyone in
the Common Room on them and the mad giggles coming from a group of younger girls.

“Sure.” Taking Harry’s arm, she waved goodbye to Ron, Ginny, and Parvati as they exited the
Common Room. “So, where are you taking me?”

“Well, I heard there was this very nice underwater restaurant in Atlantis and-”

“ATLANTIS? As in the Lost City of Atlantis?”

“Well, technically, it’s not really lost, not to wizards anyw-”

“Yes, yes, I know. I *told* you that stuff, remember? When we had to write that essay for
Binns.”

Harry grinned sheepishly, “Yes, that’s where the restaurant is at, so, is that okay with you?”
Hermione gave a high-pitched and very Parvati-like squeal before throwing herself on Harry. “I’ll
take that as a ‘yes’ then.”

“Oh, Harry, this is going to be so fabulous. I always wanted to go there. To look at the marine
life in their natural habitat and to eat and walk around underwater. *Atlantis*,” Hermione
whispered dreamily. “But how are getting there. I mean, not everyone can just get up and go there,
you know? The protections there are heavier than that of Hogwarts, Azkaban, and Gringotts added
together. You have to have visas, and documents stating why you want to go there and…” Harry just
waited patiently while Hermione continued her speech on the protection of the mysterious island in
a Hermione-like manner, about how visas were magically checked when the visitors passed the shields
that surrounded the city, whether they were apparating in or with arriving via Portkey, and those
without visas were redirected to random places. Apparently, there was a poor bloke in 1864 who
didn’t have his wand on him when he got redirected to the South Pole. It was two days before the
family realized he was missing and four more before they figured out where he was. They found him
frozen in an icicle when they finally when to fetch him after a week. When Hermione was done, he
reached into his pocket and pulled out two scrolls of parchments, and handed one to Hermione,
smiling with mischievous glint in his emerald eyes.

When Hermione unrolled hers, her jaw dropped. “A *visa*? Harry, how on earth did you get
these?”

“Well, being the Boy-Who-Lived and Defeater-of-He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named does have its
advantages,” Harry said with a wink, and then pulled out what could only be described as a very
deformed rubber chicken out of his pocket. “As for transportation, Dumbledore made a Portkey for
us, since, technically, I’m not supposed to know how.”

“Thank you so much, Harry,” Hermione said, giving Harry a light kiss on the lips.

Harry held out the rubber chicken, and Hermione looked at it suspiciously. “What is that
supposed to be?”

Harry blushed. “Oh, it’s what I got for Christmas from the Dursleys, I’m guessing it used to
better than this.”

After another long look, Hermione cautiously placed her hand on it making sure only two fingers
were touching the hideous item. Harry chuckled at Hermione’s odd behavior before taking out his
wand to activate it. Then, Hermione felt the unmistakable tug at her navel of a Portkey before the
scene before her disappeared and felt her feet leave the ground.

When she felt her feet touch the ground again, she was standing in the middle of the Atlantic
Ocean.

“*Wow*.”

There was no other description of the scenery that surrounded the pair. The golden Greek-like
architectures that stood in front of them were just Hermione always imagined how Atlantis’s
buildings looked liked. And as she gazed to the edge of the island, she could see the water
–repellant shield that kept the water from flooding the city as well provided air for the
Atlantians. Outside the almost transparent shield, she could see what she’d been wanting to see
ever since Harry mentioned Atlantis. The marine life in their natural habitat. As she studied the
school of fish that swam in a zigzagged fashion, she could just imagine Ron rolling his eyes, “You
went all the way to Atlantis to look at *fish*?!” and she had to admit, that sounded awfully
silly. She was here on a date, not an educational field trip.

“So, what do you think?” Harry asked from her right side.

“Magnificent. Thank you so much for taking me here,” Hermione said hugging, him from the
side.

“Want to head toward the restaurant, love?”

“Yes, *darling*.” Hermione smiled at Harry’s surprised and slightly indignant
expression.



5. Poseidons Diner
------------------

**Summer Writing Series Challenge** (July 16)
**Challenge:** Story Week Finale
**Topic #1: Harry/Hermione learns something new about the other.**
**Topic #2:** Harry/Hermione asks the other for a huge favor.
**Topic #3:** Harry/Hermione visits the other at work/on duty/at practice.
**Challenge Conditions:** You may choose 1, 2, or all 3 of the challenges listed. If more than
one is chosen, you must be able to weave it with the other topics seamlessly. As a bonus, for each
extra topic you choose above the first, add 1,000 words to the length of your story for today. 1
topic = 2,000 words, 2 topics = 3,000 words, and 3 topics = 4,000 words. You need to try and tie up
any and all mysteries/loose ends in this final chapter as this is the last challenge for Single
Story Week!
**Title:** Poseidon’s Diner
**Word Count:** 2,000

Currently, Harry and Hermione found themselves standing in the middle of a busy street. They had
taken the trolley that magically appears whenever visitors arrive at the Apparition Site to take
them to the downtown area. The similarity between the bright orange trolley and the Knight Bus were
too noticeable to be ignored, from the loud ‘bang’s’ to the unsteady way of driving. Small as the
island was and fast as the trolley was, it still took twenty unnerving minutes to arrive to where
they were now.

Downtown Atlantis could not have been more different from the area where the Portkey had taken
them. The buildings here were much more modernized. All around them, Hermione could see
thirty-story high apartment complexes, shopping malls, and skyscrapers, or rather
ocean-surface-scrapers, that one would only find in the largest and most prosperous cities such as
NYC and Paris.

It was hard to imagine that this glorious city could have been hidden from the muggles for so long.
Of course, this was obviously not the sight the muggle explorers were greeted with when they gazed
upon Atlantis. An old shipwreck is most likely what a muggle in a passing submarine would see after
the numerous layers of illusions cast on Atlantis.

Altantis appeared to be more populated than what Harry and Hermione had ever imagined. The
Atlantians paid no attention to the newcomers as they buzzed around the pair in their daily routine
except for occasional ‘could you please move aside, miss?’ or ‘excuse me, sir.’

“Well, ‘Poseidon’s Diner,’ that’s the restaurant,” Harry stopped walking and pointed to a building
on the other side of the street.

Following Harry’s finger, Hermione’s eyes fell upon a large sign that was covered in blinking white
lights. If Hermione had seen the lights on any other place, her instant thought would be that the
workers of the restaurant were just too lazy to take off the Christmas lights from several months
prior, but with this restaurant, the lights only added to the elegant flair. In the middle of the
sign were the words ‘Poseidon’s Diner’ in the most graceful cursive writing she’d ever seen. The
writings were in a deep blue color, not unlike the color of the seawater that surrounded them
beyond the water-repellent shield.

The building itself was white on the outside. A beautiful set of marble stairs led the couple to a
dark glass revolving door. White lights intertwined with green plants snaked around the two pillars
that stood on either side of the entrance.

Walking through the revolving door, Harry led Hermione to a wizard in black uniform standing behind
a large reservation book.

“Good evening, do you have reservations?” the wizard asked smiling at the couple.

“Yes. Potter, at seven o’clock.”

“Harry Potter?” the wizard asked excitedly, while trying to get a peek at Harry’s scar. Harry was
obviously famous even hundreds of thousands of miles underwater. “I can’t say how delighted we’d
been when we heard that you’d be here tonight.”

The host shook Harry’s hand vigorously, “And you must be Hermione Granger, delighted to make your
acquaintance. We have our best table reserved for the pair of you. Our best chef returned from his
vacation two weeks early just to be here tonight. I can’t tell you just how enthralled we are.
Right this way.”

Passing through a glass door separating the lobby from the actual restaurant, the host led the
blushing couple to the second floor reserved only for celebrities. Only a few other parties were
here tonight.

The walls were a soft peachy white and beautiful carpets of assorted colors and designs covered the
floor under their feet. A large crystal chandelier hung in the middle of the room, while candles
floated in the air all around them.

On the far end, a violinist was playing a solo concerto by Vivaldi accompanied by a pianist. The
soothing melodies filled the grand hall.

The host led them to a table by the huge window that gave the guests a clear view of the busy city
below them.

“Here you are, the best table in the house. I hope you’ll enjoy your evening here at Poseidon’s
Diner.”

The small, round table was covered with a burgundy tablecloth with small roses embroidered on
the edges. A single red rose in a crystal vase stood at the center of the table. The napkins were
folded elegantly at the side of the crystal plates and wine glasses.

“Thank you,” Hermione said softly when Harry pulled out her chair for her. “This place looks
awfully expensive, Harry. Are you sure it’s alright?”

“Of course, have you seen my Gringotts vault?” Harry said with a grin as the menus magically
appeared in front of the two. “Order anything you want.”

“May I suggest the Seafood Extravaganza? It’s one of our house specialties,” suggested the waiter,
who arrived when the host left, politely when he saw that they were having trouble deciding.

“That sounds great,” Hermione said, looking up.

“I’ll have that also.”

“Anything to drink?” the waiter asked as he wrote down their order.

“Two iced-teas.”

Minutes later, the waiter came back with their food carefully balanced on a tray.

“Is there anything else you would like?”

“No, not for me.”

“Me neither. That’s all for now. Thank you.”

After the waiter left, the two ate their dinner in comfortable silence, enjoying the music flowing
throughout the room.

“How’d you hear about this place?” Hermione asked curiously, breaking the silence.

“Well, actually, Dumbledore told me about it,” Harry replied with a mischievous sparkle in his
eyes. “I think he might have taken Professor McGonagall here once or twice.”

Hermione laughed, “I wonder what his excuse was to get past the security.”

“So, how are your classes with Madam Pomfrey coming along? You must be thrilled about that letter.”
Harry was talking about the letter Hermione received from St. Mungo’s offering her a position as a
full-time Healer as soon as she graduated.

Whereas Harry had expected her to start telling him animatedly about her healing classes, Hermione
only sighed. “I don’t know, Harry. I’m thinking about rejecting that offer.”

“What? Why? I thought you wanted to be a Healer?”

“I’ve been thinking a lot for the past weeks about what I want. When I was little, I always wanted
to become an actress. To be there on the big screen, and to get one of those Academy Awards. It’s
always been a dream of mine. But then, I got my Hogwarts letter when I was eleven. Me, I’m a
witch,” Hermione gave a small chuckle. “I guess I gave up on my muggle dreams. And then the war
began, and I wanted to help people, to heal. But now that the war is over, and with the
Wizard-Muggle alliance, that movie production place is opening and conducting auditions, I’m not
sure any more. Do I still want to heal? Or do I want to fulfill my childhood fantasies?”

“Wow, Hermione. I never knew you wanted to be an actress. Sounds like a pretty amazing dream. I
can’t make that decision for you, but I can tell you that I’ll be behind you one-hundred percent no
matter which career path you choose,” Harry, said taking her hand.

“Enough about me, what about you?”

“I think going to play Professional Quidditch.”

“Really? What about all that Auror Training you had?”

“Yeah, I’m dreading to tell McGonagall about it. After all those nights she put in so I’d qualify,
I never she’d follow through with that promise even after Umbridge left. But, I think I’ve had
enough of Dark Wizards to last me a lifetime. And there’s that offer from Puddlemere United for the
Seeker position.”

“Harry! You didn’t tell me about that! When did that happen?” Hermione interrupted.

“A couple weeks ago. Their Seeker for seven years retired, had enough of Quidditch, I guess. Wood
must have put in a good word for me. I didn’t tell anyone because I didn’t think I was going to
accept. Chuddley Cannons offered a Chaser position to Ron too. I can’t believe how much better he
was at Chasing. I don’t know if I want to play against my best friend.”

“Oh, that’s just silly! You two aren’t even playing the same position. You should accept; it sounds
like a wonderful opportunity! Quidditch has always been your passion. I’ve seen how you missed
playing these past two years. But once you’re out of Hogwarts, Umbridge’s stupid ban will no longer
have any effect.”

“I think I’m going to. Thanks, Hermione,” Harry said warmly.

The waiter returned to take away their dishes and asked about dessert. Hermione got a tiny, saying
something about keeping a low-calorie diet, chocolate cake shaped like a starfish, while Harry got
a huge ice cream sundae with every topping imaginable.

Once they finally finished their dessert, Harry ended up sharing his sundae with Hermione when she
finished her cake and wouldn’t stop staring at his dessert, the pair went down the stairs to pay
for their dinner. After ten minutes of polite argument with the host, who refused to accept payment
from Harry insisting that their dinner was on the house, the pair found them on the busy street
once again, now walking back toward the trolley stop.

“‘Poseidon’s Diner.’ What a fitting name for the best restaurant in Atlantis. Poseidon was the God
of the Sea, wasn’t he?” Harry asked Hermione as they strolled though the city.

“Yeah, Atlantis was the domain of Poseidon. Harry, this has been a wonderful evening, thank you so
much. It was a like a dream come true.” And on that busy street in the middle of the Lost City of
Atlantis, Hermione and Harry shared their first kiss since they’d been on their first date.

So engrossed in their kiss, they completely missed the unmistakable ‘bang’ of the trolley.

“Are you two getting on or what?” came the annoyed voice of the trolley driver. At the
interruption, the two broke apart, blushing furiously.

Mumbling a quick apology, the pair quickly got on and readied themselves for the bumpy ride back to
the Apparition Site.

When the grandfather clock stuck ten, the pair finally found themselves at the bottom of the steps
that led to the Head Girl and Boy’s dorms.

“I had a lot of fun tonight,” Hermione whispered.

“Yeah, me too.”

“Have you thought about where we go from here?” Hermione asked tentatively.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you and I, us. Our relationship. We’ll be graduating in three months, you’ll have your
Quidditch, and I’ll have my career, whatever I’ve chosen, what’ll happen to us?”

“I’ve been thinking about that. I thought that maybe after we graduate, we could er- move in
together. Find a flat and stuff, you know,” Harry said awkwardly, while brushing furiously.

“Are you kidding? You want me to move in with you?”

“I know this is only our first date and everything, and I understand completely if you don’t feel
comfortable-”

“I’d love to!”

“-or if your parents would let you do that, I mean, they might think we’re living in sin, and
everythi- wait. Really? You want to move in with me?”

“Yes!” Hermione said enthusiastically. “And don’t worry about my parents, they love you. Besides,
mum’s always known my obsession,” Hermione blushed at saying this, “with you. Can’t get anything
past mum.”

“Oh. Then that’s settled,” Harry said with a broad smile, while leaning in for a final goodnight
kiss. “What do you think about muggle London?”

“Unplottable?”

“Untraceable.”

“Away from the annoying fans.”

Their face inched closer together.

“Hidden from the press.”

And closer.

“Just the two of us.”

“If you want it to be. How does that sound to you?”

Their lips were barely inches from the other.

“Like heaven.”

“Good,” Harry whispered, his lips brushing against Hermione.

“Good.”

Hermione gave a small giggle before closing the space between them and capturing Harry’s lips with
her own.



6. Courage
----------

**Summer Writing Series Challenge** (July 19)
**Challenge:** Musical Week: Theme- Action/Mystery/Suspense/Horror Scene
**Challenge Conditions:** Using the daily theme, choose a scene or song from any musical you
like (stage or screen) and rework it using our favorite characters.
**Title:** Courage
**Word Count:** 1,000

The loud rumbles of thunder did nothing to lighten the gloomy atmosphere of the Great Hall of
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft of Wizardry. The war was hitting closer and closer to home. Already,
hundreds of muggleborn witches and wizards and Order members have fallen at the hand of Voldemort
and his supporters, the Death Eaters. Everyday, more news of death and destruction reached the
walls of the castle. It is safe to say that the purple envelope sealed with the Ministry of Magic
crest that arrived in dozens each day was the nightmare of every student sitting in the dining hall
at the moment. It was just as dreaded as finding the Dark Mark hanging in the sky above your home,
for it bore news of the death of family members. Just when Headmaster Dumbledore stood up to
announce the canceling of tomorrow’s classes due to an emergency Order meeting, the doors of the
Great Hall suddenly banged open and the drenched figure of Percy Weasley stood in the doorway.

“They’ve made it through the outer barrier!”

Screams and the scraping sound of hundreds of chairs could be heard following the disturbing
news.

“SILENCE! ALL STUDENTS OF FOURTH YEAR AND BELOW, REPORT TO THE EMMERGENCY EVACUATION SITE
IMMIDIATELY,” Professor McGonagall’s voice rang throughout the now silent dining hall.

“Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs, follow me,” Hermione yelled over the noise, while Harry screamed
for the Ravenclaws and Slytherins. As Head Girl and Boy of Hogwarts, it was their responsibility to
see to it that all students below fifth year were evacuated in the case of an emergency.

The evacuation site was the kitchen. Since both Portkey and Floo were traceable, the
transportation set up for evacuation of hundreds of students was by the means of House Elves, whose
traces of travel disappear completely within seconds.

“Evacuation in 10… 9… 8…,” Harry’s countdown echoed in the kitchen as everyone waited in
silence. “3… 2… 1… NOW!”

With a deafening crack, everyone in the kitchen disappeared leaving only Harry and Hermione
behind.

“Come on, Hermione. We got to get back to the Great Hall,” Harry said as he took Hermione’s
hand, and the pair rang through the dark hallways.

When they reached the Great Hall, Dumbledore was giving his speech to the older students, as
well as the Aurors and Order members that arrived.

“-time has come. You know what you’re fighting for-”

“Third ward down, only two more to go!”

As Hermione looked around the hall, her eyes fell upon a figure huddled in the corner, away from
everyone else. She nudged Harry lightly, who was beside her, before walking toward the figure.

“Neville?” she asked softly.

At his name, Neville looked up from the ground. His eyes were slightly red and puffy and tears
trailed down his cheeks.

“Neville, what’s wrong?”

“I-I’m sc-c-cared, Hermione,” Neville said. “I c-can’t fight. I c-can’t.”

“What do you mean? You’ve become as good as, if not better than, anyone in the DA,” Hermione
said. “It’s what you’ve been working so hard for, for the past year, ever since your Gran…
died.”

“You said that you wanted to fight for her. To make her proud,” Harry said from beside her.

“I-I know, b-but I just can’t. I-I’m not brave like you, Harry.”

“Neville, remember our first year?” Harry asked softly. “Who was the one that earned all those
points for Gryffindor for his courage?”

Neville smiled slightly at the memory.

“And who was the one that told me that he wanted to do something real and followed me bravely to
the Department of Mysteries without turning back?”

“Neville, you were put into the Gryffindor House for a reason, Hermione added encouragingly.

Before Neville could open his mouth to object, Harry said, “The Sorting Hat could not have put
you in a more fitting house, for you are one of the bravest people I know.”

Neville look up sharply, “Really? You m-mean that?”

“Of course.”

Neville smiled his first true smile that week. “Thank you, Harry. And you, Hermione. For caring
so much.”

“So, Neville,” said Fred Weasley, who appeared out of nowhere. “If you were King, you
wouldn't be afraid of anything?”

Harry and Hermione groaned and covered their ears as Fred began to sing the song *Courage*
from a muggle musical called the Wizard of Oz.

“Not nobody, not nohow,” Neville replied as he recognized the song.

“Not even a rhinocerous?” George Weasley joined in.

“Imposserous!”

“I really wish I never gave our old TV set to Mr. Weasley,” Hermione moaned. When Hermione’s
parents bought a new TV set, her father had suggested that she could give their old set, along with
a video player and some old videos, to Mr. Weasley, who has made it very clear to them that he was
interested. “I got rid of that movie for a reason.”

“And how the heck does Neville know the stupid song?” Harry asked no one in particular.

“Gran was friends with a muggleborn witch who happened to own a collection of musical DVD’s and
he had enjoyed watching many of them during the summer.” Neville grinned at the couple’s
annoyance.

“What makes a King out of a slave?” George sang.

“Courage!” It was muggleborn sixth year that sang this time, however. Apparently, Dumbledore’s
speech was over.

“What makes the flag on the mast to wave?” Fred sang louder.

“Courage!” another student joined in.

Soon, all the muggleborn students who knew the song joined in, and those who didn’t know it were
clapping along. Though Harry didn’t want to admit it, he found the scene very amusing.

“Fourth ward down! One shield remaining,” Percy warned, effectively silenced the crowd.

“Seal the doors. Aurors, Order of the Phoenix, teachers, and students, take your positions,”
Dumbledore calmly called out the orders.

With renewed spirit, the Warriors of the Light stood at their positions waiting for the Final
Battle of the Second War to begin.

“The final ward is down!” called Percy.

“Let the Battle for Hogwarts begin!”

A/N: The song used today was was *Courage* from the Wizard of Oz. And also, before I
forget, I’d like to thank Another, my beta, for doing such a wonderful job and for keeping up with
me for the past few weeks.



7. Marry the Man Today
----------------------

**Summer Writing Series Challenge** (July 20)
**Challenge:** Musical Week: Theme- Love/Romance
**Challenge Conditions:** Using the daily theme, choose a scene or song from any musical you
like (stage or screen) and rework it using our favorite characters.
**Title:** Marry the Man Today
**Word Count:** 1,000

It was a bright Sunday afternoon. Two friends sat under the brightly colored umbrellas outside
Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlor chatting lightly. The brown haired woman was eating a
chocolate ice cream, while the other, with the shockingly bright red hair, ate an ice cream that
seemed to change flavor with every scoop.

“Draco asked me to marry him today.”

Nineteen-year-old Hermione Granger clapped her hands together and nodded eagerly for the other
to continue. “And?”

“And what?” Ginny Weasley retorted, obviously trying to stall.

Hermione huffed. “He asked you to marry him. What did you say?”

“I told him that I’ll get back to him,” the younger woman said, deadpanned.

“You told him WHAT?!”

Ginny quickly made a shushing motion with her hands, smiling sheepishly at the people who turned
around to look at them at Hermione’s loud outburst. “Shh. The whole world doesn’t need to know,
alright?”

“Draco asked you to marry him, and you rejected him?” Hermione asked in disbelief, softer this
time.

“Not *rejected*, I just told him that I needed to think about it.”

“It’s the same thing to guys. How did he take it?”

“Pretty well. Well, he, sort of, had that really hurt look in his eyes,” Ginny said guiltily.
“But he told me to take all the time I need to think over it, and that he’d wait until I’m
ready.”

“Be grateful that Draco loves you so much. Any other guy probably would have dumped you, right
then and there.”

Ginny’s face dropped even more. “I know, I *know*. Spare me the lecture, I’ve already heard
it from mum. I didn’t think she could get any louder. Anyways, enough about me. What about you and
Harry? Have you decided on a wedding date yet?”

Now, it was Hermione’s turn to look guilty. “I don’t know, Ginny. I love Harry so much, but I
don’t know if I’m ready for such a big commitment. I want a long an engagement. We’re both still so
young and we both have our careers. I mean, after one year, he’s already the Department’s Head
Auror. And my job at the Daily Prophet is going so well. I need to get to know him better.”

“You must be kidding me. Hermione, you probably already know Harry better than he knows himself!
Besides, have you talked to Harry? What does he want?”

“Well, Harry wants to get married next month. Before he leaves for Ireland in August. You know,
with that Top Secret mission that we’re not supposed to know about.” Hermione said, smiling
slightly. Ever since Harry had let slip about the mission, Hermione and Ginny had been relentlessly
teasing him about it, just because it wasn’t like Harry to slip up on something that big. After two
days of constant teasing, it was clear that Harry wished that he’d erased their memory like he was
supposed to do, according to procedure.

Ginny smiled too, before turning serious again,“Then, my advice is, don’t let him get away.
Marry him now.”

“But, what if after we get married and I realize I can’t stand his snoring, or something?”

“Harry snores?”

“Everyone snores when they sleep, Ginny. It’s just a matter of how loud,” Hermione said
carefully.

“Harry snores, Draco is going to get a kick out of that one,” Ginny said triumphantly, before
she burst out laughing.

“Stop it, Ginny,” Hermione said, trying not to join the eighteen-year-old in laughing at the
ridiculous image of Harry snoring. “What if I don’t want him to be an Auror? He’s always away at
random hours and his life could be in danger at any moment.”

Ginny sobered up. “Hey, you know what I learned from Madam Malkin’s? You can't get
alterations on a robe you haven't bought.”

Hermione stared oddly at Ginny.

“And when you’re buying groceries, you mustn't squeeze a melon 'till you get the melon
home.”

Hermione nodded in understanding, “*And* you can’t change a man without marrying him
first.”

“Right!”

Hermione frowned at Ginny, “Here you are, scolding me about wanting a long engagement when you
didn’t even accept Draco’s proposal.”

Ginny’s eyes slowly lit up. “Why not?”

“Why not what?” Hermione asked in confusion.

“Why not marry Draco? I’ve been thinking. Sure, marriage is a gamble, but then so is life. And
nothing is guaranteed. But I love Draco, as you do Harry. Wouldn’t you rather marry him today
rather than sighing in sorrow tomorrow?”

“You’ve got a point,” Hermione said thoughtfully.

“So, what if I don’t like Draco’s attitude toward my brothers? We’ve got lifetime ahead of us to
change that.”

“And what if I can’t stand Harry’s snore? I’m a witch, there’s bound to be a way to fix
that.”

“But you got to marry the man today,” Ginny cried, unaware of the stares she got from the other
people sitting near them.

“Then, you can change his ways tomorrow!”

Ginny laughed loudly before sticking a spoonful of the now orange ice cream into her mouth.

“Mmm, mango, I like it.”

“Oh, Ginny. You’re driving me crazy with that silly ice cream of yours,” Hermione groaned.

“Hey, *Mr. Fortescue* offered to give me a sample of every flavor he had. Can’t refuse the
owner, can I?” Ginny replied innocently.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “He only offered it to you because you spent the last twenty minutes
standing there trying to decide on a flavor. There were other costumers.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault I couldn’t decide.” Hermione only shook her head at the youngest
Weasley, trying her best not to burst out laughing.

“Well, I’ve got to go find Harry. There’s a wedding that needs planning! And you,” Hermione said
pointing her index finger at Ginny, “are going to find Mr. Draco Malfoy, and accept his marriage
proposal and apologize to him for being stupid enough not to accept it when he asked you.”

“Of course. Give him your hand today and save the fist for after, right?” Ginny laughed before
apparating away.

A/N: Well, that was *Marry the Man Today* from Guys and Dolls.



8. He Lives in You
------------------

**Summer Writing Series Challenge** (July 21)
**Challenge:** Musical Week: Theme- Angst
**Challenge Conditions:** Using the daily theme, choose a scene or song from any musical you
like (stage or screen) and rework it using our favorite characters.
**Title:** He Lives in You
**Word Count:** 1,000


Another summer had gone by and once again the Great Hall of Hogwarts Witchcarft and Wizardry was
crowded with students.

Sitting at the Gryffindor table, Hermione Granger’s concerned gaze rested on a raven-haired boy of
sixteen, who sat across the table pushing his food around his plate. Harry Potter was listening
halfheartedly to Seamus Finnegan, who was talking animatedly about his new girlfriend, Lavender
Brown, and responded with occasional nods to show he was listening. Though Harry might have been
able to convince his fellow Gryffindors, and even Ron, that he was fine, Hermione saw straight
through his fake smiles and false cheeriness.

“Hey, Harry. Aren’t you going to eat anything?” his red-headed best friend Ron Weasley asked
brightly from beside him.

“Nah, I’m not really hungry. I ate too much sweets on the train,” Harry said. Hermione knew this
was a lie. She had been watching Harry the entire trip here, except for the first ten minutes she
spent in the prefect carriage, and knew for a fact that he did not eat or buy any food on the
Hogwarts Express.

Ron simply shrugged. “Whatever. All I know is I’m starving.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and retorted, “You’re always starving. Harry, Come take a walk with me,”
she pushed back her chair and stood up, motioning for Harry to follow her.

Curiously, Harry excused himself from the table, cutting Seamus off mid-sentence and followed
Hermione out of the Great Hall.

“Where are we going?” he asked as Hermione took his hand and walked briskly into the night.
Hermione simply kept on leading him by the hand until they reached the lake.

Sitting down on a patch of grass by the lake, she patted a spot on her right, “Here, sit.”

Harry sat down on the slightly wet grass, looking confusedly at Hermione.

“I know you’re still upset over Sirius’s death,” Hermione started without preamble, and continued
before Harry could open his mouth, “And I know you’re still getting nightmares. Why aren’t you
taking those Dreamless Potions Madam Pomfrey gave you?”

“Sometimes, when I wake up from a nightmare, I want to take it. So I won’t dream of that shocked
expression on his face when he fell through the veil anymore. But, then I’m scared that if I stop
the nightmares, I’ll forget him. I’m scared that one day, I’ll wake up and find that I can’t
picture his face or hear his voice anymore. I’m afraid that if I forget get him, he’ll truly be
gone. So, if I keep dreaming about him, even if it hurts, at least I know that I still remember.
That’s why I don’t take the Dreamless Potion,” Harry trailed off.

“Oh, Harry, you don’t have to be haunted by his death to remember him. Our loved ones never truly
fade away. You’ll never be able to forget Sirius, because he lives in here,” Hermione said softly,
pressing her hand on Harry’s chest, where his heart was.

Hermione withdrew her hand and laid down on the grass, pulling Harry down with her. “Look up there,
Harry. See those stars? Let me tell you something my father told me when I was a little girl. He
said that all the good people of the past are up there, looking down at us, ready to help at our
time of need. Sirius is up there, so are your parents. And they’ll always be there, to guide you
through life.

“Look over there,” Hermione pointed to a group of stars. “See those stars? It the constellation
Canis Major. And there, the brightest star is called Sirius, the Dog Star. Do you see it? The
brightest star in the sky. And maybe, when Sirius gets up there, his star will be even brighter
than the one he was named after.”

Harry smiled at the Great Dog constellation. Everything seemed so right. For a moment, he could
forget the prophesy, forget his destiny, and forget his pain. For a moment, he could just lay here
without a care in the world. And it felt so natural, to have Hermione at his side with her hand in
his. He felt oddly comforted by just being there, beside her.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

Hermione turned to her side facing Harry, “Always remember this, our loved ones never truly fade
away, they will continue living inside each of us even after they leave this Earth. And they’ll be
watching over everything we see. And whenever you feel alone, know that they will be there to guide
you, as will I.”

“Thanks,” he whispered back, “Thanks for being here for me, now.”

~ * ~ * ~

Far away in a muggle research center, Dr. Brian Parker, Ph. D., stood underneath a large telescope
studying the constellation, Canis Major. Zooming in further upon the constellation, his gaze fell
upon the brightest star he’d ever seen.

“Lionel, hey, Lionel,” he called out urgently to his secretary. When a slightly chubby stepped out
onto the balcony, he said, “I want you to look through the database for a star with an apparent
magnitude of maybe -1.6, located just north of Sirius.”

“Yes, sir.”

He returned two minutes later, “There’s no record of such a star, Dr. Parker.”

But the man wasn’t listening, he was staring intently at the star. “Padfoot,” he whispered.

“What was that, Dr. Parker?” Lionel asked, confusedly looking up at where his boss was staring
at.

“Huh? Oh, I said Padfoot. I don’t know, that name just popped into my head. It’s as if the star was
telling me its name,” he said, frowning.

“Well, sir. There is no star by that name.”

Shaking his head, Dr. Parker looked back into the telescope. “I know that. Lionel, I think we’ve
found ourselves a new star in the constellation of Canis Major. I want a picture taken every ten
minutes following its positions for the next 48 hours. I want its apparent and absolute magnitude,
its distance from Earth…”

A new star was born.

A/N: This was *They Live in You*, and it’s reprise, *He Lives in You* from the Lion
King. My only claim to angst is that Sirius is dead. ;)



9. It Couldnt Please Me More
----------------------------

**Summer Writing Series Challenge** (July 22)
**Challenge:** Musical Week: Comedy
**Challenge Conditions:** Using the daily theme, choose a scene or song from any musical you
like (stage or screen) and rework it using our favorite characters.
**Title:** It Couldn’t Please Me More
**Word Count:** 1,000

On a bitter cold December evening, Hermione Granger found herself cuddled on the couch by the
fire, wrapped in a blanket in the living room of her flat reading a very thick book. Just as the
grandfather clock, a gift from her father for graduation, chimed nine o’clock, the doorbell rang.
Begrudgingly walking to the door, she vouching to curse the person that came to pull her from her
comfortable couch to the next century.

However, her vouch was quickly forgotten in pleasant surprise when she saw Harry Potter, her
best friend for over nine years, standing at the door, his cheeks pink from the cold, in his
Quidditch uniform.

“Hey, Hermione.”

“Harry!” Hermione cried before ushering him to the flat and pulling into a tight hug. “What are
you doing here? I thought you and the team were staying in Hawaii for the night?”

Harry had been recruited to play for Puddlemere United soon after the war ended, when their old
Seeker decided to retire. With Oliver Wood as Captain and Harry on the team, Puddlemere United had
yet to lose a game. “To win, we must become one with the field and let *it* guide us to
victory,” was Wood’s strategy, and also why the team always arrived one week prior to practice on
each field before their actual game. No one truly knows if it’s this odd strategy, as Wood claimed,
that aids the team to come out victorious in each game, or the actual skills of the players.

Thus, Harry had been in Hawaii for the past week, training for the game that had been held this
afternoon. Hermione already knew that they had won the game 340-120, because Harry had sent a note
earlier. He also told her that the team was celebrating their victory at the beach and would be
spending one more night on the island.

“I missed you,” Harry replied simply when she released him from the hug.

She looked at him incredulously, “You skipped a night on the beach to visit me in this cold,
because you missed me?”

“Yeah,” Harry smiled a smile. “Besides, I already spent a week there.”

Leading Harry into the living room, Hermione apologized for the state of the room, though it was
rather unnecessary because the room was as clean as a brand new mansion.

“Here, I brought you something,” Harry said, producing a brown paper bag.

“What is it?” Hermione asked curiously as she accepted the gift.

“Open it.”

Peering into the bag, Hermione gasped. “Harry, is that what I think it is?”

Nodding, Harry asked, “Do you like it?”

“Oh, of course. If you brought me diamonds, or pearls, or roses, it couldn’t have please me more
than the gift I see. But, Harry, this is too much, I can’t accept this. I mean, it’s a,” she paused
to take Harry’s gift out of the bag. “*Pineapple*.”

You used to be able to get a pineapple anywhere, but now, pineapples were even rarer diamonds. A
couple years back, before he was destroyed, Voldemort had unearthed an ancient spell that could
only be performed during a complete solar eclipse. It had the power to destroy all the muggleborn
witches and wizards in world, which was exactly what Voldemort had intended to do. However, when
Bellatrix Lestrange, who had been given the honor of performing the spell, stuttered over one
single letter of the incantation when she broke a nail (the spell had a rather elaborate wand
motion), instead of erasing the entire muggleborn race, the spell had killed every single pineapple
tree in the world. That had been the end of Bellatrix. And luckily, *the* Prophecy had been
fulfilled before Voldemort had another chance try the spell. Now, both muggle and wizard scientists
all over the world are trying to recover the lost pineapples, which was a rather difficult task due
to the lack of seeds and existing models, without much success. Over the past year, a few wizards
had been able to transfigure or create one or two pineapples, but they rarely lasted over a few
hours before they transfigure back to their original form, or disappeared.

Harry nodded proudly. “And it couldn’t please more than to see you cling to the pineapple I
brought.”

“Oh, I can just hear the Hawaiian breezes blow,” Hermione said dreamily, clinging the fruit in
front of her.

Harry debated nervously before saying, “It’s from California.”

“Even so! How can I ever thank you?”

“There’s no need to thank me.”

“But of course I must thank you, Harry. Would you like a slice? I’ll go cut it up now,” she
said, raising her wand, ready to summon a cutting board of knife.

“That would nice, but frankly, it would give me gas,” Harry replied, while blushing furiously.
“And I doubt you’d want to eat it either, we don’t know how safe it is, the wizard I bought it from
said it was still in the experimental stage.”

“Then, we’ll leave it here,” Hermione said, setting the pineapples on the coffee table. “Not to
eat, but see. But you must not bring me any more pineapples, you hear? It’s not proper. It is a
gift a young man would present to his ladylove.”

“Then let’s make it proper, Hermione.”

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked, was Harry asking what she thinks he is?

“Will you be my ladylove?” Harry quoted Hermione’s earlier words with a nervous grin.

“YES!” Hermione screamed, surprising Harry, as well as herself. She, then, leaned forward
following another impulse, and captured Harry’s lips with her own.

The couple sprang apart breathlessly when a loud ‘bang’ sounded from the coffee table. The
pineapple had exploded and covered the coffee table in a disgusting looking purple goo.

“I’m sure glad I didn’t eat that.”

“There goes another failed experiment,” Harry said, deadpanned, before the couple burst out
laughing.

“At least it did some good in bringing you to me,” Hermione said softly before kissing Harry
again.

A/n: *It Couldn’t Please Me More* from Cabaret. Just a tiny confession, I’ve never seen the
stage show of Cabaret. I went out and rented the movie last night at 12 o’clock, but found to my
disappointment that the movie did not contain this scene. :(



10. I Think Im Gonna Like It Here
---------------------------------

**Summer Writing Series Challenge** (July 23)
**Challenge:** Musical Week: The Big Cast Ensemble Piece
**Challenge Conditions:** Using the daily theme, choose a scene or song from any musical you
like (stage or screen) and rework it using our favorite characters.
**Title:** I Think I’m Gonna Like It Here
**Word Count:** 2,000

She hadn’t seen Harry for over two years now. He had left for America immediately after the end
of the Second War, wanting to create a life of his own for once, a life that’s not controlled by
his fame, past, or the Order of the Phoenix. At their tearful separation, Harry had produced an
engagement ring that came with the promise that it would be replaced with a wedding ring the next
time they saw each other. She had made him promise over and over again that he would send for her
as soon as he’d settled down. Hermione Granger looked down at the engagement ring she wore on her
finger. She knew Harry would fulfill his promise and that she would be reunited with him soon, but
that didn’t make her miss him any less.

After living in London for one year, she had moved to this remote muggle town in the outskirts
of Scotland, or as Ron would call it when he came to visit her, the middle nowhere. Hermione loved
her job as a librarian at the local library. For a town as small as this one was, the library was
exceptionally well updated.

Several loud shouts and cheers from the outside told her it was nearly four o’clock. Because of
the remote location of the town, mail only arrived once a week, in the form of a large orange
truck. It’s been a tradition for townspeople to line up on the street to wait for the truck every
Thursday and wait for the truck. Standing up from the kitchen stool, she set the sandwich she’d
been eating down and walked out the front door to join her neighbors on the street.

“There it is!” several voices shouted as a bright orange mass came into view. The truck was
slowly trudging toward them.

“Oh-ho! The delivery truck is coming down the street!” Mr. Pickering from across the street
cheered loudly.

“Please let it be for me!” the Pickerings’ daughter said, tugging on her mother’s apron
excitedly.

“Remember that box of maple sugar I got for my birthday last week?” Mrs. Colby asked her
husband.

“How could I not? You put it on every dish last week, even the eggs!” Mr. Colby replied dryly,
regretting it immediately when his wife elbowed him sharply in the ribs.

“Oh, how I wish it’s those books I just ordered!” cried the head librarian, who loved books even
more than Hermione, if that was possible. “Or the new bookshelf.”

“In March, I got a gray mackinaw!” Mr. Fairbourne said proudly, showing off his coat . He
stumbled back indignantly when everyone shouted, “We know!”

Mrs. Beckett, Hermione’s elderly neighbor, whispered softly to Hermione with a grin, “You’d
think he’d get tired of saying that after three months.”

Hermione grinned back. Mrs. Beckett had been like a grandmother to Hermione ever since she
arrived here. She often visited the old lady at her house, where she lived on her own. Her husband
had past away a few years earlier, and her two sons lived in London.

“Once, I got some grapefruit from Tampa!” Mr. Brown cried from several houses down.

“It could be curtains!” a voice called out.

“Or dishes!”

“Oh, how I wish I knew what it could be!” a little girl with two pigtails shouted up to her
father.

“Or it could be something special-”

“-something very, very special-” a voice cut in.

“-just for me!”

Hermione had learned to enjoy waiting for the large truck with the rest of the townspeople, even
though she didn’t need to because she never got muggle mail, except for the annoying junk mail.

A boy in blue overalls pointed at the nearing truck jumping up and own. “Please don’t let it
pass my house.”

“I’m expecting a new rocking chair,” said the major.

“I hope I’m getting my raisins soon, I’m planning on baking oatmeal raisin cookies for that PTA
fundraiser,” the major’s wife said.

“It’s coming, it’s coming!” the little girl in the pigtails squealed.

“Oh-ho! Don’t you dare make a stop until you stop for me!” Mr. Pickering’s voice boomed from
across the street again.

“So, are you still expecting that letter from your young fella?” Mrs. Beckett asked, as the
truck finally squelched to a stop in the middle of the street.

Hermione blushed. “Yes, Mrs. Beckett.”

In the background, she could hear the major’s delighted shout, “My new rocking chair! Ain’t it
beautiful?”

“Well, it could come today, you should be excited.”

“It won’t,” Hermione replied, deadpanned, before she could stop her herself.

Mrs. Beckett raised an eyebrow.

“I--it won’t, b-because Harry, err—sends mail in a different way and, err—it doesn’t come on
Thursdays,” Hermione explained lamely.

“Mm-hmm” The old lady just nodded, fixing her with an unnerving stare. “You should go get your
letters. That boy’s been calling for you.” Sure enough, a young man in an orange uniform was
shouting her name, waving a stack of letters in the air above the mob of people that surrounded
him.

Hermione quickly made her way over to him and took the letters from his outstretched hand.
Leafing through the stack of advertisements, she thought idly about casting a junk mail deflector
spell on her address. When her eyes fell upon the second to last envelope, however, she felt her
heart stop. She gazed down at the unmistakable scrawl of her fiancé. Harry’s handwriting was as
unruly as ever, but she had never seen anything so wonderful. She wondered why he was sending the
letter the muggle way and how he’d found her address. She ripped the envelope open with slightly
shaking fingers and took out two slips of paper. Unfolding the larger piece, she read:

Dear Hermione,

Sorry about the muggle post. Hedwig got in a fight with the neighbors owl, I didn’t think she
could make the across-Atlantic trip. I can’t believe it’s been two years and three months since I
last saw you. I’ve missed you. Everything is set over here, I’m finally sending for you. I’ve
enclosed an airline ticket for you. I’ll see you in a month. I love you very much.

Harry

Hermione glanced at the other slip of paper. It was, like Harry said, an airline ticket for New
York City. She felt oddly light-hearted now that she knew that she would be leaving for America
soon. Even the countless things she has to get done in a month could not dampen her spirit. She was
going to be with Harry again.

“So, did you get your letter?” Mrs. Becket’s voice startled her out of her thoughts.

“Huh? Yeah. How did you know I would be getting it today?”

“Just a feeling. Anyways, when are you leaving for America?”

Hermione regarded her with a suspicious stare, in her many chats with the old lady, she’d never
mentioned the country Harry went to. “Wait, how did you know I’d be going to America? What do you
know that I don’t?”

“Oh, I know many things that you don’t, my dear child,” Mrs. Beckett returned with a smile,
before walking away chuckling.

Hermione stared after the lady confusedly, before entering her own house.

* * *

The past month went by in a blur. Friends and family were notified and good-byes were said, the
house and furniture to sold to a nice elderly couple, and she quit her job at the library. Now,
Hermione found herself standing in the crowded airport of New York City, waiting for Harry.

“Hermione!”

She could recognize that voice anywhere; it was Harry’s. When she finally located the source of
the call, her heart leapt. Harry was making his way through the crowd toward her. He looked as
handsome as ever, from his messy dark hair to his lean frame to his gorgeous emerald eyes.

“Harry!” She ran, pushing some people out of the way rather rudely, into his open embrace.

“Oof! Hi to you too,” he laughed as he hugged her back just as tightly.

“I love you!”

“I love you, too. Remember my promise?” he asked lifting her hand, exposing the ring. “We’re
getting married tonight, if you still want to.”

Hermione grinned broadly, “Of course I want to. I’ve been waiting for this moment for the past
two years!”

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” Harry said as he led her to a taxi that was waiting outside.
“It’s a wizard’s cab, it can take us to the Wizarding part of New York.”

They settled down in the back of the car after Harry told the driver the address.

“So, how’s America?”

“It’s amazing. You can’t believe how great it is to be able to walk down the street without
having people gawking at you. And my job at the University is great, if you’d told me a couple
years ago that I’d be teaching at a magical university, I’d have told you were off your rocker,”
Harry laughed good-naturedly.

Hermione gasped when she stepped out of the taxi. In front of her stood a large golden gate and
beyond it was a gorgeous mansion-sized house with a large beautiful flower garden. “Welcome to the
Potter House.”

Entering into the grand hall, Hermione saw that a dozen of house-elves stood in a neat line.

“Mistress Hermione. Welcome home, ma’am,” a house-elf dressed in a pink apron stepped forward
and beamed. “I’m Marcie, the head house-elf of the Potter House.”

“Don’t worry. All the house elves here are paid,” Harry said quickly before Hermione could even
frown.

“Yes, ma’am, us house-elves is free here in America. Our services come at a high price but I can
assure you that we is the best. We take our job very seriously and you will find no fault in our
work,” Marcie said proudly.

“Let me introduce you to the staff,” Harry said. “Sophie will be picking all your clothes.”

Sophie stepped out of the line and came up to her. She examined Hermione closely, “Green is her
best color, no, blue, I think.”

“Your bath is drawn by Maria.”

A kind looking house-elf steeped forward and asked, “Soap?”

“Bubbles.”

“Bubbles, of course!” Maria clapped her hands together.

“And Annie is going to make the bed.”

“The silk sheets? No. The satin sheets, I think” Annie nodded to herself.

“I think I’m gonna like it here,” Hermione smiled at Harry.

“The pool is to your left,” Harry pointed to a hallway to her left.

“Is the house?”

“No, outside, silly.”

“And the tennis court is your right.”

“Merlin, Harry. I’ve never even picked up a racket!”

“Don’t worry. Mr. Beech, the instructor, will teach you all you need to know!”

“I really think I’m gonna like it here.”

Another house elf stepped up, “My name is Tracie. You will ring for me when you wake and I will
bring your tray.”

Another house elf stepped up beside Tracie, “And I’m Jack, I will come take it away when you’re
done.”

“You won’t have to lift a finger, love,” Harry said.

“I think I’m gonna like it here,” Hermione said dreamily. “Harry, this is the most amazing
place, someone pinch me please! Ouch!”

“She didn’t mean it,” Marcie quickly reprimanded Tracie, who pinched Hermione’s arm when she
requested it.

“Oh! I is very sorry, ma’am. Terribly sorry,” Tracie apologized profusely.

“That’s alright. I asked for it.”

“We hope that ma’am understand, your wish is our command,” the house-elves all bobbed their
little heads up and down in agreement.

“So, what do you think?” Harry asked.

“You’re sure they’re paid?”

“Thirty Galleons a week, with holidays, sick leave, and pensions.”

“Well, I think I’m gonna like it here!” Hermione smiled broadly before giving Harry a loud
smooch on the lips. “So, where’s my bedroom?”

Harry, who had a goofy grin on his face, pointed to a staircase. “Up the stairs, and to your
left. It’s only temporary, though. You’re moving into the master bedroom next week, after our
honeymoon.”

A/N: I used two songs for this challenge. *Wells Fargo Wagon* from the Music Man and *I
Think I'm Gonna Like It Here* from Annie. I realize that Harry and Hermione are a bit OOC in
this story, but that was the only way I could fit in the songs. I was going to use the whole “mail
order bride” idea, but to do that, the whole story would’ve been AU. ;) The concept of “mail order
bride” came about when the young single men, who had created a new life in the West during the gold
rush, advertised in the newspaper for women to come west and marry them.

Also, I’ll be gone to camp for a while, so there probably won’t be an update for 2 weeks.
Sorry.



11. Business or Pleasure
------------------------

**Summer Writing Series Challenge** (August 9)
**Challenge:** Alternate Story Week: Challenge for July 5th: Harry/Hermione feed/eat
from the other's plate at a restaurant.
**Challenge Conditions:** All you do is pick any challenge that was given on this day of the
week earlier in the summer, and do a different story from what you did before...or one that you
missed.
**Title:** Business or Pleasure
**Word Count:** 1,000

**Disclaimer:** This story is based on characters and any other things you recognize created
and owned by JK Rowling, Scholastic Publishing, and Warner Bros., Inc.As for the plot-line, it’s
based on a scene from Table for Two: Summer Desserts by Nora Roberts.

“I’ll pick you up at eight.”

“Harry, I said no.”

“I’ll see you later,” Harry Potter repeated calmly, leaving before the other could slam the door
in his face.

Hermione Granger, the finest chef in Europe, sat fuming on her couch in her suite. *Just who
did he think he was? Barging in here and just assuming I’ll have dinner with him whenever he
decides to.* He was not the boss of her, not yet, anyways. When—*if—*she took up his offer,
that would change.

She thought back to the rather flattering and very generous offer. Harry Potter owned one of the
best chains of hotels and resorts in both muggle and wizarding Europe. He wanted the best head chef
available for his new hotel based in London, and she was the best. The six-digit salary alone had
rendered her speechless. But, Hermione always freelanced, never starting her own
restaurant—something she could’ve easily done—to avoid being attached to one project. She found
settling down with one restaurant not as satisfying as traveling across the continent just to make
one dish. She almost refused until he cleverly inquired about Draco Malfoy, her long-time rival.
How could he even consider that slimy pig as a second choice? She’d accepted the offer rather
rashly. She had let him manipulate her then, but not tonight.

Going out to the nearest fast food restaurant, she ordered drumsticks and soda. Then, washing
off her make-up, she dressed in the shabbiest jeans she owned with a T-shirt that was torn at the
left sleeve. It was the perfect plan. He would, of course, show up dressed in his best dressing
gown. Hermione poked a few holes in her jeans for added satisfaction. When the knock came promptly
at eight, she leisurely got up and walked slowly to the door.

“So, dinner ready?” Harry asked casually, inviting himself into her suite, while Hermione gaped
openly at him. Except for the tattered tennis shoes, Harry Potter dressed almost identically to
her. He had outwitted her once again. And the most annoying part was that he could look so
attractive even dressed in such casual clothes.

Fuming she replied, “*My* dinner is ready, I don’t know about yours.”

“I said eight.”

“I said no.”

“You said no to going out, so I thought we could eat in. So is this dinner?” he asked picking up
a drumstick from the coffee table. “Your taste in fast food is most intriguing for a cook such as
yourself.”

“Chef,” Hermione replied stiffly.

“Whatever,” Harry said, knowing it would annoy her, propping his legs on the table. Hermione
debated a second before joining him. She’s going to come up on top in the end, and he wasn’t going
to manipulate again. “So, is this how one of the greatest chefs spends her evenings?”

“*The* greatest chef spends her evenings however she likes,” Hermione retorted. “Why did
you see me tonight?”

“The professional reason or the personal reason?”

“Both. Professional first, then...”

“Since we’ll be working closely over the next couple years, I thought we should get to know each
other so we can make the appropriate adjustments,” Harry said, finishing off the drumstick.

“Logical. And the personal one?”

Harry smiled, “Personally, I find you very attractive and I want to take you to bed,” he paused
to see her reaction. When he received none, he continued, “but I thought we should get to know each
other first. Logical?”

“Yes, and egotistical,” Hermione replied. She could tell her coolness unnerved him at least a
little. Good. Seeing that they finished their measly dinner, Hermione said casually, “I have
éclairs in the fridge, would you like some?”

“Supermarket special?”

“No, they’re mine.”

“I could hardly turn them down then and risk insulting you,” Harry said with a smirk.

Hermione laughed dryly. “I’m sure diplomacy is your only motive.”

In the kitchen, Hermione let her mask fall. He’d shaken her with his words, just like he meant
to. She was losing this battle. Placing the éclairs on the plate, she put on her cool mask again
and reentered the room. “My éclairs aren’t to be taken lightly. Nor to be eaten with anything less
than reverence.”

“I’ll do my very best.”

“Actually, no effort required,” she broke off the first bite and brought it to his lips. “Just
taste buds.”

“Amazing,” he murmured before taking the fork from her hand. Breaking off another bite, he
deliberately brought it slowly to her lips, resisting the urge to kiss her. “I’ll return the
favor.”

Hermione claimed the fork once again. She knew she was playing a dangerous game. A game that
needed to be played with cunning. A game she was going to win.

“Last bite,” she murmured, bringing the éclair in front of him. Just when the last bite was
about to enter his mouth, Hermione drew back and fed herself the dessert instead. Harry, following
the bite, brought his lips to hers. Hermione hid her surprise quickly. She never allowed anyone to
seduce her, and Harry Potter was no different.

Just a sample, she told herself. She knew how to taste and judge, and then step away from even
the most tempting flavors. She also knew how to absorb every drop of pleasure from that one tiny
test.

But when they broke apart, Hermione found that she couldn’t break away from the enchantment of
the kiss. She had to end this. Now.

“I do not look for romance or companionship, Harry Romance has a beginning, and so does it an
end. Companionship demands patience and compromise. I give all my patience to my work, and I have
no talent for compromise. Monday, we will be working together and that’s all there’s going to be.
Business associates,” Hermione said with finality.

Harry just looked at her knowingly. “Contract is paper, and just that. It’s not going to make a
difference. I’ll see you on Monday,” he left with a curt nod before she could object.

A/N: First, this story was totally AU, based on a scene from Nora Roberts’s Table for Two:
Summer Desserts, if you skipped over the disclaimer. If you recognize a phrase or sentence from the
book, it’s because it is. Some parts were so good, I couldn’t resist but to put it in.

Sorry, this was posted late. I’ve been very busy over the last weeks to find time to write. This
will be my last entry in the SWSC. I hope you enjoyed it. :) Thanks to everyone for reviewing, your
feedbacks were a huge help!

Lastly, A huge thanks to **Another** for beta-ing all my entries. You’ve done a wonderful
job! And for those interested, *With One Dream* is now revised! You can find it under my user
profile.