Protection, Possession by LostEboni

2. Difficulty and Indecision

A/n: Hi Everybody! Don’t mind me, I’m just running through my chapters, doing some major editing. I’ll be posting them all back on PK as I edit them, and I will tell you now that a lot of what you read will be different from before. However, if any of you would rather read the older version, it’s on ff.net. My username there is Akai-chan. Enjoy! ^-^

Chapter 1: Difficulty and Indecision

Hermione Granger sat in her room, at her desk, staring absently at a blank piece of parchment. She’d been sitting like this for hours now, just staring off into space like her least favorite Divination professor. Honestly, she hadn’t even had such a loss of words when she first got her Hogwarts letter.

And if she weren’t so depressed at the moment, she’d find it rather amusing.

But it wasn’t, and she was, for lack of a better word, stumped on what to do about this entire mess.

She’d woken up this morning, fresh with the idea that writing the git a letter would be the perfect way to bridge their gap of communication and explain her actions.

But, of course, being who she was, she immediately became indignant at the idea of explaining herself. Why should she have to? It was her God-given right to help out a friend in need, and if he couldn’t understand that, he could rot for all she cared.

But… perhaps and explanation is in order.

After the battle in the Department of Mysteries, things seemed to slow down considerably for Hermione. It wasn’t, of course, because she wanted them to. There just wasn’t a whole lot she could do while recovering from the curse she’d taken straight to the chest. She’d been bedridden for a long while, able to do little more than read and eat; thank God for books.

She hadn’t been the only one recovering, though. Ron, who had been attacked by that horrid… brain-creature, was with her as well. He spent most of his time fussing over her, and at the time, she’d thought it was rather sweet.

So sweet, in fact, that when he’d asked her to Hogsmede with him, in his shy and timid, Ron-like way, what could she do but accept?

When Madam Pomfrey had finally deemed her able to leave her bed for more than an hour at a time, they went and had their day in Hogsmede villiage. And looking back on it now, she still thought they had the most marvelous time. Ron had, for once in his life, been the perfect gentleman. He paid for their meal and butterbeers, bought her candy when they went to the local sweet shop, and even gave up going to the Quidditch supply store to go look at books with her. She was so surprised at how sweet he was being!

Ron never behaved that way before. He had always and forever been a selfish, boarish, Quidditch-loving git. Of course, he could be sweet when he wanted to be, and he was always one of the first to defend her honour, but he was who he was.

He continued behaving this way for the entire week afterward, and Hermione was beginning to believe that his attack had really caused some damage. Really, how could she not think such a thing, especially after he asked her to be his girlfriend two weeks before the end of the term?

Then again, how could she not think herself completely mad for accepting?

And that is when everything changed.

Suddenly, the sweet and sensitive Ron from earlier had become a possessive and jealous arsehole. Every time another guy came anywhere near her, he would scream bloody murder. Even when she’d hugged Remus goodbye before he left for Grimmauld again, Ron had accused her of fancying the older man. The idiot even had the nerve to call her a whoring scarlet woman once. At which point, she had hexed him six ways from Sunday and told him he was lucky she missed her actual target, else wise he’d be a sterile mess.

That wasn’t even the worst of it.

It seemed like nothing she ever did was good enough for him. He criticized her every move, her every thought if she were bold enough to share it with him. He even told her that her clothes made her look like a slut, though how school uniforms could achieve this she was not sure.

And so, having had enough of him and his perpetual temper, she had fled the castle for a while. It was no more than a day, really. She hadn’t really needed to diligently attend her classes at that point in the year and had been excused from them all without question. She felt a little guilty for that now, having told them that she wasn’t feeling well, something to do with the lasting affects of Dolohov’s curse and all. It hadn’t been a total lie, but still.

After what seemed like hours of just wandering aimlessly, she found herself at her favorite spot out by the lake. There was a particular weeping willow tree that was rather massive, so much so in fact that it completely masked one’s presense to anyone for quite a distance. And this would be the reason she didn’t even see Harry until she was exactly two meters from the tree’s massive bulk.

He was sitting with his back against the tree’s trunk, looking so forlorn with his legs drawn up against his chest and his arms around his knees, his head resting on his arms.

It hit her then that she had not seen him since the incident and that was almost a month ago. How on earth had she not noticed his absence? He was one of her best friends, probably her only real friend and it was as if she’d been completely ignoring him this entire time. She couldn’t believe that she’d been so caught up with Ron that she had forgotten about Harry.

Her heart broke with every step she took towards him. Each pace forward added another load of guilt to her already heavy shoulders as she took in her friend's almost emaciated and neglected condition.

Harry had always been a small boy. He had been the size of a sparrow in their first year, and the scraggly-ness of his body hadn’t really improved over the years. He had gotten taller of course; it was just the way of puberty. He also had even gained a little muscle from Quidditch, but not much else had changed. It was obvious that the Dursleys had never fed him well, and his condition did improve when he came to Hogwarts during the year but…

Hard on the heels of her overwhelming guilt and sadness came a sudden wave of anger just then. Had no one noticed the condition that Harry was now in? Why hadn't the adults done anything about it? Why hadn’t Dumbledore?

And for that matter, why hadn’t she?

She sighed shakily, swallowing back her tears and knelt in front of her friend, wondering what she could say, what she could do to make things better for him.

Honestly, she wouldn’t be a bit surprised if he told her to go away and hang herself. She felt she deserved it, forgetting about him as she had.

But that didn’t stop her from reaching out, shakily running her hand through his overly messy hair. Slowly, he lifted his head and looked up at her, and she found herself momentarily frozen by the intensely vacant look in his eyes.

Coming to herself after a moment, she gave him a watery smile. “Hello Harry.”

It took him a moment to say anything, and Hermione suspected it had been because he was trying to figure out who she was at first.

“Hermione? What… What’re you doing here?” His voice sounded so weak, raspy from disuse. The sound of it did nothing but tighten the knot in her throat.

“I came to see you, Harry. How are you?” She winced. What an utterly stupid question. Any idiot could see how he was doing, how completely gaunt he looked.

He didn’t answer, though. He, instead, shook his head and looked away across the lake, avoiding her eyes and her question. So she tried again.

“How’ve you been feeling, Harry?”

“I don’t know. I’m not sure how murderers are supposed to feel.”

Hermione stifled a sigh and glanced away, pondering how to respond. Although she was empathetic to his situation and mental state, a tiny bit of her was exasperated at having to go through this again.

Just when he was starting to act like the old Harry, HER Harry, he was on a downward spiral once again. Only this time, instead of becoming surly and rebellious, he had withdrawn from the world. She almost preferred the snarky Harry-at least she could work with anger.

So with that thought in mind, she steeled herself and replied tartly, "I expected more from you Harry."

She was heartened by the tiny flicker of surprise as he turned back to face her. "Wh-what?"

"Is this how you honor Sirius' memory? By starving yourself and hiding away from the world?" She gestured at his thin frame. "Sirius died while helping to save your life. He was a good, noble man who served the Light well. You dishonor him by not stepping up and continuing the fight."

He jerked away from her and stood up then, his reaction one of instantaneous anger and indignation.

“Oh, and I suppose you would know all about losing people you love? Well you’re not always right about me, Hermione, and how dare you assume you know even half of what I’m feeling right now! You know nothing, nothing about dishonor or about what Sirius would have wanted!”

The way he had been glaring down at her then really shook her to the core. She had never seen so much raw emotion in his eyes, at least not directed at her.

But Hermione Granger was not one to be intimidated, especially when her only true friend was in need.

“And you do? If you really thought anything at all about what Sirius was like and who he was, you wouldn’t be here sulking right now, Harry! If you knew anything about him at all, you wouldn’t be calling yourself a murderer because you would realize that Sirius went after you because he loved you! And if you stopped wallowing in self-pity long enough, you might actually realize that you weren’t the one who was holding the bloody wand! It was Bellatrix Lestrange, Harry. And more to the point, it was Voldemort who orchestrated this whole bloody mess! What you’re doing right now is exactly what he wants, Harry, and I will have none of it. I will not sit by and watch you torture yourself!”

She was gasping for air by then, having worked herself into quite a frenzy. She took deep, shaky breaths, trying to calm herself down, cool her anger.

It helped that Harry was silent, though. He had looked completely shocked to hear all the things she’d had to say. And she could identify with his surprise.

She had never really been that vehement about something before. But she had been determined that he understand what he was doing to himself.

After a moment, his entire body sagged, as if all the righteous indignation of before had been sucked from his body.

At the sight of him, again, looking so vulnerable and defeated, her own anger deflated completely.

“Oh Harry…” She closed the distance between them again, and pulled him into a tight hug.

It was definitely going from one extreme to another; one minute they were shouting their heads off, the next she was hugging him fiercely. But that was one of the things you could expect with Harry-complete and total emotional upheaval.

And to this day, it still surprised her that he hugged her back, holding on with desperation, as if he were afraid that if he let go she might leave him alone again. His next words, though, shook the very foundations of her being and brought her guilt back full force.

“How can I not be a murderer, Hermione, it’s the way everyone’s been treating me since we got back. Either they handle me with kid-gloves or they don’t come near me at all. I… I haven’t seen you and Ron this entire time, and I started to think you hated me for what I’d done.”

She wanted to believe so badly that she had heard wrong, that his words were just muffled because his face was pressed to her shoulder. But if nothing else, Hermione had learned that lying to one’s self was complete stupidity. That didn’t, however, assuage the anvil pressure of guilt weighing on her heart.

“Harry, I’m so sorry…” She choked on the rest of her words, her tears finally breaking through to the surface. And she hated it.

She had always hated crying because she thought it made her weak and useless, and doing so at that moment didn’t really make her feel fantastic either. But it couldn’t be helped, and it almost seemed as though Harry was comforting her now instead of the other way around.

And this was, of course, how Ron found them.

Hermione sighed as she thought back on the memory. Not-so-surprisingly, Ron had been livid and had left without a word between them. He had not spoken to either her or Harry since then, and she honestly didn’t think she minded at all.

Their 'relationship' had been on hold since.

And now that she thought about it, why was it so important for Ron to know how she felt? If he couldn’t understand that she needed to be there for Harry, he could bugger off. He, of all people, should have been the first to want to help Harry. Instead, he chose to be jealous and resentful of the boy who was supposed to be his best mate. She couldn’t understand it, and she wasn’t going to make herself try to anymore. Harry was what was most important right now, and that was where her focus would remain.

Before she could dwell on the implications of that particular thought, she was brought from her musings by a knock on her door.

Her mum walked in then, not waiting for her daughter to give permission to enter.

"Hermione, dear, there's someone here to see you. One of your mentors, I believe. He said it was important."

Hermione stood from her desk, her brow furrowed in slight confusion. Why would any of the adults from Hogwarts come to see her without an inquiring notice before-hand?

Almost immediately she began to wonder if things were going well in the Wizarding World. Had there been more attacks? Were Muggles being killed? Was Harry all right?

She almost knocked her mother over trying to get out of her room and nearly took a tumble down the stairs. She took the steps two a time, trying to get downstairs as fast as she could to find out what was going on.

What she saw when she got there, however, gave her tremendous pause.

The scene didn’t seem out of the ordinary, at first. There was no real big deal about her father standing in the living room, conversing with Remus Lupin.

It was a sight she could grow fond of, actually. It did her heart good to see her parents getting along with others that were important in her life.

But again, this wasn’t what stopped her in her tracks.

Rather, it was the enormous creature on the other end of the chain that her former professor was holding.

Sitting calmly on its haunches and idly watching the conversation between the two men was the biggest cat Hermione had ever seen.

It looked to be a black panther, its fur sleek and soft-looking but unmarred by any sort of spots or stripes. Hermione stepped back a little, frightened when the massive animal rose to its feet upon sensing her arrival. She noticed then that its shoulder was level with Remus’ hip. And while the former professor was not an extremely tall man, he was still much taller than her.

And it seemed he was well attuned to the beast’s actions, for he placed a hand on its head, receiving a calm look in reply before it settled back down.

He looked up and smiled at Hermione, a smile that she noticed was rather worn, making the few wrinkles on his otherwise handsome face more pronounced. He looked so tired. And so sad.

She felt sorry for this man, felt that he didn’t deserve the hand he was dealt in life.

“Hello Hermione. How have you been? I trust your summer is going well.”

She gave him her best smile, one that probably let him know she was feeling almost just as tired, almost just as sad.

“Yes, sir, it’s going fine. And I’ve been doing well, I guess. How are things with you?”

He smiled tiredly. “As well as can be expected under the circumstances. But I’m sure you don’t want to hear about an old man’s troubles, so I’ll just get to the point of my visit. I’ve come bearing gifts,” he said, giving his feline companion a hearty pat on the head.

“Um… I’m not exactly sure what you mean.” She was totally sure of what he meant, but she was hoping that she was wrong.

“Well you see, Hermione, I brought this handsome creature you see here for you. If I am correct, you were specifically chosen to take care of him over the summer.”

“Wait, what? Take care of him? How can I take care of him? There’s no room in such a small house for such a… an insanely large, predatory cat creature!”

"Calm down, Hermione, I understand what you’re saying, but this was not my idea. Headmaster Dumbledore requested that I bring him to you for safe-keeping. We found him wounded in the Forbidden Forest, not too far from Hagrid’s hut, and he immediately volunteered to nurse him back to health. Unfortunately, after he was healed, having something this big and potentially dangerous in the castle was not something Dumbledore wanted the Governors to find out about; we didn’t want a repeat of the Buckbeak incident. And most of us are too busy with the war to care for him, so the ever-creative Headmaster suggested he be brought to you. I truly hope this doesn’t inconvenience you. I know it’s a lot of responsibility, but that’s exactly why you were chosen as the most likely candidate.”

Well, his explanation seemed plausible enough. And this seemed exactly like some of the crazy things the Headmaster was known for, but still. Something didn’t quite click right.

If taking care of the animal had been so important, she would have at least gotten an owl about it instead of being put on the spot-wouldn’t she? Professor Dumbledore would have wanted to make sure she was fully prepared for this new arrival, for his convenience and hers. She considered that for a moment, then stifled a groan. Then again, this was the Headmaster she was thinking of.

Despite her suspicions, however, she would accept this new situation with grace and maturity. If nothing else, it would give her time to further investigate just exactly what was going on around here.

She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, feeling an oncoming headache. “I suppose I don’t see a problem with it, Professor, as long as it’s okay with my parents.”

“Oh you don’t have to worry, darling. I’ve already spoken with Mr. Lupin about those matters, and it’s more than alright. Besides, I think it’ll be wonderful for you to have something to occupy yourself with, other than your homework,” her father said in a slightly teasing manner, which was totally out of place for this particular situation.

She smirked slightly and sighed as she looked down into a pair of oddly familiar green eyes.

This was definitely going to be an interesting summer…

3. Regarding Reflections

Chapter 2b: Regarding Reflections

And so we shall begin from the beginning…

In the blazing hot month of June, a one Harry Potter lay unmoving on his bed. He slept not, nor did he think he could. His ever-present nightmares plagued him even when he closed his eyes for brief moments, let alone a few hours of sleep. Sighing dejectedly, he sat up, his head resting in his hands.

He’d only been at Privet Drive for two weeks, but it’d seemed much longer. On the bright side of things, the Dursleys didn’t even so much as look at him unless it was absolutely necessary. Harry thought this to be a God-send compared to his usual treatment, but it did nothing to alleviate his loneliness.

Despite how things may have seemed at the end of the year, he missed his best friends and house mates terribly. Even now, he felt that unavoidable pang of guilt at being the reason all their lives were in danger. All of them could have been killed because of him… just like Sirius…

No, he would not cry… He’d shed enough tears since it happened, and enough was enough. Sirius wouldn’t have wanted him moping about and feeling sorry for himself just because he felt the need to protect those he cared for.

He just wished he could get out and do something other than be cooped up with the muggles the whole summer.

Just then, Harry heard a tapping sound coming from his window. He was up from the bed and to the window in an instant, hoping for a letter from one of his friends.

He was a little disappointed when an unfamiliar looking barn owl flew in through the open window. It was, however, erased by his curiosity as the owl landed on his shoulder, poking it’s leg out to display the letter attached. In appreciation, he fed it an owl treat and let it drink from Hedwig’s bowl before it was on it’s way again.

As Harry began opening the letter, he vaguely noted that it was sealed with the Hogwart’s crest. He thought it was odd but didn’t pay any mind to it in favor of the letter; which read as follows:

Dear Harry,

First and foremost, I would like to express my deepest, sincerest apologies for all that has happened in the previous year. A great deal of these happenings occurred because of my own blind-sightedness and boorish stubbornness in keeping the truth from you. I regret my actions, and I always will, for it has cost me the precious gift of your trust, something which will be doubly difficult to gain back.

Let me start by offering you a chance to do what I should have inspired sooner; to train. I realize that at this point in your life, your studies at Hogwarts are progressing too slowly for the events that will be unfolding in the near future. That is why, starting at exactly 12pm tomorrow, this letter will become an activated portkey to the desired location where your training will begin.

Please understand, Harry, that you don’t have to go through with this. I know you don’t trust me as you once did, but please also understand that this isn’t about me. This is all about you and the lives of your friends. You really do need to train to become the best you can be, and you can’t do that sitting within the walls of those who care nothing of your existence. I understand that now.

So I’m asking you, Harry, please forgive an old man of his mistakes and let us begin anew.

Awaiting your answer,

Albus Dumbledore,

Headmaster-- Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

To say Harry was shocked was a bit of an understatement. He was absolutely dumbfounded, so much so that he read the words etched onto the expensive parchment at least twice.

Instead of the elated joy he should’ve been feeling at that moment, though, a scowl was slowly settling on the features of the Boy-Who-Lived.

Just bloody wonderful… NOW he wants to start this… this smarmy boot camp when all of last year, Harry was up to his eyeballs in the crap Voldemort’d set out for him.

Dumbledore was definitely playing the part of a general of war, playing up his troops. Hell, he probably even switched Harry's OWL scores to all O’s just so he’d have no room to disagree with this little ‘proposition.’

Another piece of parchment fell out of the envelope. Harry picked it up and scanned the contents.

"How convenient," he muttered. "Now they raise the ban on Underage Magic. Bet Dumbledore had something to do with that, too."

Harry knew he was being snarky, but really, could anyone blame him? After watching Sirius die and Hermione nearly killed, how the hell was he supposed to act? Oh but he was going to accept bloody Dumblydearest’s invitation, if for nothing else than to better prepare himself and his friends. He would be no one’s tool, not anymore.

Grabbing a piece of parchment and something to write with from his trunk, Harry jotted down a brief response.

I’ll do it.

Rolling up the small piece of parchment, he tied it to Hedwig’s leg and sent her off with instructions to stay with Dumbledore.

****

The next day was uneventful enough. Harry was up at 6am, showered, and in the kitchen making an early breakfast for himself and his ‘family.’ It was Monday, so he was sure his uncle and aunt would be up bustling about the house or getting ready for work. He couldn’t really say the same for Dudley though. Lately the cheeky git only got up when it suited him best, which was always around noon or so. Of course, this was just fine for Harry as he’d be out of the house at that time anyway.

Once done with his meal, he set about cleaning his room and packing up his trunk. It really wasn’t that much of a task, since his room was so small and he practically lived out of his trunk. Afterward, he settled down to get some of his homework out of the way, which wasn’t much since they’d taken O.W.Ls the year before.

He briefly wondered how his scores came out. The only sure O was DADA since he’d had extensive practice in that particular field last year. Everything else was a big ‘if’ at the moment. He cracked a smile, thinking of Hermione and how he was sure she’d gotten all O’s in each of her exams. He didn’t know why worried and agonized over any of it, it was practically in the bag.

Not for the first time that summer, he wondered how she was doing. He did, of course, miss both his best friends but not quite as much Ron as he did Hermione. Not to mention that he and Ron hadn’t exactly left on the best of terms last year. His red-headed friend seemed to have formulated the idea that he was the reason for the failure in his and Hermione’s ‘relationship.’ Truth be told, Harry’d had no idea they were even dating until they actually broke up. He was so wrapped up in his own grief at loosing Sirius and the trauma of being possessed by Voldemort that he had been in his own world for days. That was, of course, until Hermione had come to pull him out of it…

God how he missed her… She always seemed to know what he needed and when he needed it. She took care of him, looked after him, and he felt like the biggest prat in the world for taking her for granted. It cut him deeper to know that he had been a complete smarmy bastard to her the whole year, and she continued to steadfastly stay by his side.

He regretted taking her for granted all these years. When he saw her again, he would make sure she knew how much he really appreciated her.

Come to think of it, Hermione was one of the reasons he was even excepting Dumbledore’s offer, aside from the fact that he really did need training. He didn’t want what happened in the Department of Mysteries to happen again. He wanted to be better prepared for any and all situations that might arise. If that meant taking up Occlumency with Snape again, he would endure and maybe even excel.

Harry was so preoccupied with his thoughts, he almost didn’t notice that it was a minute to noon. The portkey was set to activate any second.

Grabbing the portkey, he hurried over to his trunk, and not a second too soon as he began to feel that familiar pull at his navel. It felt as though the world was upside down for mere moments, the floor had become the ceiling, and the ceiling was the floor.

In a matter of seconds Harry found himself within the familiar confines of the Headmaster’s office. His eyes roamed about the expansive space for any sign of the older man, but he was no where in sight. He did, however, find himself settled on the sight of bright orange and red feathers. Immediately a smile swept Harry’s entire expression.

“Fawkes!” he exclaimed gleefully as he eagerly made his way to where the phoenix perched. The magical bird cooed musically as the boy began stroking his feathers.

Although, the motion seemed to soothe Harry more than the fowl to whom he gave his attentions. The soothing sounds of Fawke’s musical voice seemed to settle his apprehensive nerves, quell his trepidation a bit.

Despite his still-present anger at the Hogwart’s Headmaster, he still found himself a bit on edge at the thought of the upcoming, inevitable conversation. He knew that now would be the time of their confrontation, the time to either resolve or rekindle his issues with the old wizard.

Before Harry could get any further in his musings, there was the sound of a door opening and a swish of robes.

“Ah, Harry, I see you’ve made it safely. Please, have a seat,” said Dumbledore as he took his own seat behind the large, elegant desk. “Lemon drop?” he asked as Harry took his seat in front of the desk. He replied in the negative, his expression pensive. Dumbledore opened his mouth to speak, but Harry cut him off instantaneously.

“I know what you’re going to say, Professor, and with all do respect, I’ll ask you to save it. I don’t need a repeat of what was written in your letter. Right now, all I need you to do is listen. Can you do that for me?”

Albus Dumbledore was, indeed, taken aback at that moment. Harry was taking charge for the first time, not so content to sit back and let others handle his business for him. He was finally realizing that this was his life, and no one could govern it but him. Dare he say, Harry Potter was growing into a fine young man, despite all the odds against him.

Dumbledore merely gave a nod of consent, that familiar twinkle beginning weasel it’s way back within deep blue of his eyes.

“First, I want you to know that I’ve decided to forgive you. However, this doesn’t mean that things are entirely back to normal between us. I’ll admit, my attitude last year didn’t much help matters at all, but your secrecy didn’t either. I expect that this year, you and the others will keep me informed as to what is happening with the Order and otherwise. This is my life we’re talking about here, as well as the lives of my friends and every other student in this school. The more secrets you keep for fear of panic, the more panic there will be when all hell breaks loose,” Harry stated firmly, though he paused to breathe deep, willing himself to calm down and use his head for once.

“Look, Professor, I’m not saying any of this to hurt you, or place blame. I just want you to understand that keeping everybody happy by letting them remain ignorant of the dangers around them isn’t a very good idea. It’ll only cause chaos in the end, and last year’s freakshow is a really good example.”

‘Merlin…That sounded like something Hermione would've said to me.’ Without even realizing, a grin set about his features. ‘That girl’s more of an influence on me than I thought. Either that or I really am growing up…’

Dumbledore sat back in his chair. His eyes were twinkling a bit beyond their usual sparkle as he watched the play of expressions across Harry's face. The Boy-Who-Lived had surprised him with his heartened speech, and consequently, it actually worked in both their favors.

"Very well." He said quietly. "You have grown up far sooner than imagined, and you’ve proved many times that you are indeed capable of protecting yourself and those you care for. You are no longer an eleven year old boy, but a young man in control of his own destiny. It's time we started treating you like one.

“In a nutshell, Harry, I agree with your terms and expressly thank you for your forgiveness; it means more to me than you know,” spoke the older man, his long fingered hand held out towards his pupil.

Harry took it with only a moment’s hesitation, that grin widening a fraction or so.

“Now, I’m sure you’d like to know about the training I mentioned before,” said Dumbledore, peering at the raven-haired young man over his now interlaced fingers.

Harry nodded eagerly; the anticipation of finding just exactly what sort of training he’d receive was getting to him.

“Very well. There will be Occlumency, which I will be instructing, conjuring, advanced charms and transfiguration, and last but certainly not least will be animagus training.”

“Animagus training? Doesn’t that take years of practice and preparation?”

“Indeed, it does at that, Harry. But your father and Sirius were able to fully transform in a matter of months; I am almost sure they were around the same age-group as you. Furthermore, it is my belief that you will be able to do same as well, if not sooner.”

“I don’t think I understand. I mean, is there even a reason I should become an animagus so quickly?”

Dumbledore sighed wearily at Harry’s inquiries. He had hoped he wouldn’t have to divulge this newest development to the young man, knowing he was probably still blaming himself for the death of his godfather, Sirius Black. However, the old wizard had just promised he wouldn’t keep anything else from him. Besides, if Dumbledore’s suspicions were correct, telling the boy what he was planning could prove to have smashing results.

“Harry, in being completely honest with you, your training here so soon isn’t quite as simple as put before. In a month from now, I will be sending you on a mission; your training should be at least marginally completed by then.”

Harry’s already luminous green eyes became impossibly brighter. He hadn’t expected to be involved so soon, but it appeared Dumbledore had been counting on him for this particular assignment since he sent that letter. “What sort of mission?”

“Well, it seems your friends, Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger, are oblivious as to just how much danger they’re really in. At this point, it seems Ms. Granger falls at the sort end of the stick. Not only has she been a major part in foiling Voldemort’s plans, but she is also Muggle-born. While Mr. Weasley’s family surrounds him in a formidable amount of protection, Ms. Granger is not quite so blessed.

“Naturally, there are wards around her home, and someone is on guard at all times in the area, but it isn’t enough.” The Headmaster of Hogwarts watched with more than a passing interest as Harry’s expression fell from gleeful to solemn in a manner of seconds; if the old wizard had to guess, he would say Harry’s mind trailed back to events that happened not more than 3 months ago.

“And… where do I come in?”

“We need someone for the inside job, someone who can be by Hermione’s side constantly without her actually knowing she’s being protected. That someone is you, Harry.”

“You didn’t even have to ask,” a small smirk found it’s way to the young man’s lips, “I’m pretty sure you knew I wouldn’t hesitate to protect her.”

“Perhaps, but I thought it best to inquire about it first, as I am not making the decisions involving your fate anymore.”

“It’s settled then. One question, though. Exactly how am I supposed to do this without her knowing? Surely you don’t expect me to use the invisibility cloak; it’s almost impossible to hide from her in that thing. It’s like she sees right through it, or at least, when I‘m wearing it.”

“Not quite, Harry. You see, when you are in her home, you won’t exactly be yourself. Or at least, not the way she remembers you. You will be in your animagus form.”

“Oh! Okay, I get it now. That’s why I need the training so soon, right?” Dumbledore nodded and could definitely see the expressed clarity in the young man’s facial features, regarding the current situation. To his amusement, he could also see that excitement returning to emerald orbs. “Wicked…”

“I thought you might like that. Not to mention, it also gives you a chance to spend time in the company of a close friend.”

Albus was more than pleased that Harry had accepted this assignment so eagerly. Not only would it help him prepare for events to come, but also he wouldn’t have to be alone and grieving the entire summer.

>>>>

Present day…

At the hour of 2am July16^th, Harry Potter, or should I say ‘Bast’ made his way back up the stairs to Hermione’s room. This time, however, he was met with some resistance.

Crookshanks, who had been absent up until now, stood in the doorway, blocking the larger feline’s passage. The ginger cat‘s fur stood on end, his body poised to pounce at any given moment, clearly trying to protect his territory from the other male.

Bast didn’t feel at all threatened, for obvious reasons, and sat back calmly looking down at the smaller feline, his meter-long tail swaying back-n-forth lazily.

“Crookshanks, what’re you doing?” he questioned, though if human ears were listening in, one might hear a series of low growls instead of words.

“I should be asking you the same question,” came the response in the form of a simple ‘Meow.’

“I’m trying to get into Hermione’s room, but you’re in my way.”

“That’s very observant of you, my friend; I had not pegged you to be so brilliant.” Ah, but sarcasm is a lovely tool.

“Oi, Crookshanks, would you just move so I can go in? I don’t think Mione would be too happy if she saw us standing in the door way staring at one another. Besides, I’d like to sleep sometime this century.” Bast sighed, as only a predatory cat could, wondering not for the first time in the last three minutes why he hadn’t anticipated something like this happening.

“And what makes you think you can sleep in here?” Crookshanks replied snarkily.

“Mione invited me in,” was the simple reply

“Oh… Well… that’s different then,” meowed the ginger feline quietly. “But you remember one thing; she’s my human, and your presence here doesn’t change that!” As if to prove his point, Crookshanks left from blocking the bigger cat’s way and made a bee-line for Hermione’s bed where he jumped up on the mattress and curled up near her feet.

If Bast could have rolled his eyes, he may have done so several times over. Instead, he leisurely made his way to where his ‘mistress’ slept. With a wide yawn that displayed huge, deadly canines, he settled on the rug beside the bed, emerald orbs slipping closed in slumber.

4. Death Eaters and Delightful Dining

Chapter 3: Death Eaters and Delightful Dining

“I cannot believe this! The lot of you are incompetent, blundering fools! How difficult can it be to find one insignificant Mudblood?!”

“If she’s so insignificant, why are you having this hissy-fit?”

“Do shut up, Bellatrix. You know very well why we’re trying to find the filthy little Mudblood.”

Almost instantly, the tip of a wand was at Lucious Malfoy’s throat. “You forget who you are dealing with, Lucy. Brother-in-law or not, I will not hesitate to kill you,” Bellatrix sneered.

“Yes well, dear sister-in-law, I don’t think our master would be pleased with your unwarranted disposal of me. And I do wish you wouldn‘t call me that,” said the blonde Death Eater, who, despite his snarkily smirking expression, was trying doubly hard to keep the quiver out of his voice. For all his money, power, and prestige, it couldn’t help his fear of his wife’s cousin. The woman was ruthless to a fault, loyal to no one but Voldemort.

“Ha! As if the Dark Lord actually cares if you croak or not.”

“I should hope so! I am, after all, the catalyst in his most recent plans.”

-.- “He’s using your vendetta against the Mudblood out of convenience so that he won’t have to waste energy killing her himself, Lucy,” she voiced monotonously, her expression deadpan.

“Think what you want, Bellatrix. But back to the task at hand. Why haven’t you and Dolohov found Granger yet.”

“Because, idiot, Dumbledore has placed a plethora of protection barriers and wards on the place of her dwelling. We can’t find it with a locater spell, much less a map.”

“Blast that old fool and his dirty little tricks.”

“You know what this means don’t you?” came the inquiry of a new voice, just approaching from another room.

“Oh please, do tell, Dolohov.”

“We’ll have to risk a public attack. It’s obvious that we’ll never get the girl until she’s out in the open and possibly unprotected.”

****

Hermione Granger was absolutely frantic. How could her parents just sit and drink tea so calmly when in no more than ten minutes, Ginny and Mr. Weasley would be arriving to take them to the Burrow?

About a week or so earlier, Hermione’d gotten a letter from Ron, asking if they could get together at least once before the summer was over, maybe try to salvage their friendship. Hermione knew better, however. She knew what Ron really wanted, and while this was the perfect opportunity to tell him what she couldn’t in a letter, she wasn’t sure she could go through with it.

She truly did love Ron dearly, just not the way he wanted her to. Also, she didn’t see Harry’s name mentioned once in that entire letter. This, of course, lead her to believe Ron was still a little sore at him and hadn’t included him in his plans at all. That’d ruffled her feathers a bit…

She had thought about writing Harry to ask him for advice, but how could she when he was right in the middle of it all? And most likely, he was still grieving over Sirius.

In a last ditch effort, she asked her mum about it( her father hadn’t even known she’d had a boyfriend). Hermione was extremely glad she did, for her mum suggested they make it into a group effort and go on sort of a family picnic. God bless her brilliant mother!

So here she was, mentally preparing herself for the ordeal to come, wishing to God above that Harry would have been there so that she wouldn’t have to be with Ron by herself. On the bright side of things, Ginny would be there, and she could perhaps take some of the pressure off. And then there was Bast, too…

It had been several weeks or so since Bast was brought to her doorstep, and Hermione had to say that she loved every minute of it. Her shaggy companion was sometimes, in her opinion, like an overly large person on all-fours. The only complaint she had was that he followed her everywhere except the loo.

She smiled at that thought, looking down at the huge, furry lump snoozing at her feet. While musing, she had been absently rubbing her bare feet through his fur, a motion that she hadn’t noticed was slowly soothing her as well as him.

Hermione was, however, quite suddenly brought out of her revere by a loud crash, sounding as if came from the living room. Both she and Bast were up and running to see what all the commotion was, and were both struck with a sudden bit of fondness by the endearing sight before them. Stumbling out of the fireplace, dusty and coughing, were Ginny Weasley and her father.

“Ginny!” The young red-head looked up from her coughing spurt to see one of her very best friends… who looked almost completely different from when she’d seen her last. She had to say, Hermione had grown a lot since they parted ways at King’s Cross station. Her friend was just a slight bit taller, and slimmer. Her body had filled out in the places expected, almost all traces of baby fat gone. The biggest change, however, was the condition of her usually-bushy hair. Instead of the untamable mass it had been, it now fell elegantly down her back, almost to her waist in delicate, glossy curls. Ron was so going to freak.

“Oh my God, Hermione! You look so good!” the younger girl exclaimed, running with open arms to grab her friend in a tight, sisterly hug.

“It’s so good to see you, Gin,” squealed Hermione as she eagerly excepted the embrace. She heard a loud groan of protest at the offending noise, and looked down to find the source was Bast, whose ears were flattened back against his head.

She laughed lightly as she pulled away from Ginny and placed a hand to the top of the feline’s head, which she had no problems reaching since his head came about mid-torso.

“Sorry, love, but it’s not often I get to gush like that. Bear with me if you can,” she said, winking at him while ruffling his fur.

“Whoa, where’d you get this bloke from? He’s absolutely the hugest cat I’ve ever seen, even more so than the ones the muggles keep in those zoo-whatchamacallits.”

“Lupin brought him to me for the summer. I hope you don’t mind, but he’ll be coming with us on the picnic. He’s been stuck in the house since he got here, and I think it would be great if he could have the room to roam about a bit.”

“It’s alright with me, though he might scare Mum and Ron witless,” Ginny snickered at the thought. “I’m sure he’ll provide excellent protection against my brother for you.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, ever since the start of the summer, all that git’s been talking about is when he found you and Harry curled up together under the tree beside the lake. He’s obsessed over the idea that Harry’s trying to steal you away, convinced himself that you’re the one thing Harry can’t have and that it’s eating him up.”

“That’s the most horrible, far-fetched bullocks I’ve ever heard! That is exactly why he and I cannot have a healthy relationship. His bloody insecurities cloud his better judgment and he ends up coming off like a pig-headed, jealous prat!” Hermione fumed.

“Yes yes, I know that, Hermione. Like you said, he’s got the emotional range of a teaspoon, but at this point it can’t be helped.”

“The more you talk like that, Gin, the more I’m wondering if this picnic was such a good idea.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. It would probably do you some good to get out of the house and away from your books. I just know you’ve finished all the summer homework by now,” Ginny teased.

“Har har, Weasley. Yes, as a matter of fact, I did finish all my homework. It gives me more free time to spend with my big man here,” she said, pointedly running her hand through Bast’s thick coat, who was enjoying this extra attention immensely.

Ginny giggled. “You’ve got him completely spoiled, Hermione,” she said as she watched the large feline lean against the older girl affectionately. So caught up in her own amusement, she did not notice the feral look in the beast’s eyes.

'That stupid git!' Harry thought darkly. ‘He always has to blow things out of proportion! The bloody idiot needs to learn that everything doesn’t revolve around him. That’s alright though. Since ickle Ronnikins is so convinced that something’s happened between Hermione and me, well, I certainly am not one to disappoint.' His eyes held a mischievous glint. 'This picnic is suddenly turning out to be a lot more interesting than I originally wagered...'

****

After what seemed an eternity in the Floo network, The Grangers and Bast, along with Ginny and Mr. Weasley finally arrived at the Burrow. Being that Hermione’s parents had never seen a completely magically run home, they were a little more than astonished at all the going’s on around the place.

Waiting for them in the kitchen was Mrs. Weasley, who seemed beside herself with giddiness at having company for the first time in a while. She ran to envelope Hermione in one of her patented Molly Weasley bear-hugs, but stopped short with a shriek of surprise when she saw the humongous creature standing like a sentinel at the young witch’s side.

“What is that thing?! And what is it doing in my house?!” Luckily, before Hermione could let out her indignant reply that Bast was not just some ‘thing’, Ginny stepped up to the plate.

“Mum, please don’t get upset okay? She’s doing a favor for Professor Dumbledore by keeping him, and she couldn’t exactly leave him cooped up in the house all day.”

“That’s right Mrs. Weasley. I promise, he’ll be no trouble at all. As a matter of fact, he’s the most well-behaved wild animal I’ve ever encountered,” interjected Mr. Granger on his daughter’s behalf.

“Oh… oh alright, if he must be here. Anyway, the food is prepared and ready so lets be on our way, dearies. Ronald, get down here this instant; our guests have arrived!”

There was the sound of heavy feet making their way down the stairs, and Hermione unknowingly tightened her grip around Bast’s leash.

And suddenly, everything she had been dreading this summer had come to pass. Ron Weasley appeared at the bottom the stairs, looking the same as ever. He looked no different then when she’d last seen him, except that he had grown a few inches taller, and his chest and shoulders were a bit broader. His rust-red hair was longer than she remembered it, reminding her a bit of Fred and George in third year.

No sooner than his foot stopped on the last step and into the kitchen, did his eyes fall on her almost immediately.

“Hiya herms! It’s been a long time,” he said with this ridiculously huge grin on his face.

Hermione tried to smile back but it came out more like a grimace than a grin.

“Hi Ron. Yes, it has been a while at that. I hope your summer’s been going well,” she said politely as she could.

Little did she know, she wouldn’t have to worry about his advances today, for as soon as he began to approach her, a low, deep growl could be heard from her side.

Bast stepped protectively out in front of her, ears flattened back against his head and teeth bared in a vicious snarl His slit green eyes locked onto the now terrified young wizard with a look of pure malice.

Now, of course, Harry held no real animosity for his best mate, but he did want to make this look good. Besides, it would do the prat some good to be scared out his mind after all the crap he probably said about Hermione.

As soon as Bast took his first step towards the boy, Hermione pulled back on his leash, and he obediently stopped his advances but kept his eyes locked on Ron.

This was just too funny! Ron was probably going to try his hand at killing him when he found out who was really under the panther skin.

“Bast! What has gotten into you? I’m so sorry, Ron, he’s never reacted like this to anyone before,” Hermione said, sounding more natural just then than she had since Ron walked into the room. Truth be told, she was actually a little relieved that she did bring Bast. His reaction to Ron had been unexpected, but most welcome now that she knew this meant she wouldn’t have to deal with what would undoubtedly be his attempt to try and get their relationship going again.

Mr. Weasley had been quiet through out the entire ordeal. At the moment, he had a firm grip on his flustered wife’s shoulders, all the while trying to hide the amused smile that threatened to overtake his features. To anyone else, it would seem rather unusual and maybe even a little cruel that he would be amused at his youngest son’s plight. But everyone else didn’t know what he knew, nor did they know that the youth deserved it.

Mr. Weasley was well-aware of the things his son’d said about Hermione and Harry, and he didn’t approve at all. He was also aware of the fact that, that panther feigning amplified dislike for his son was none other than Harry Potter.

Being a member of the Order, he knew of Dumbledore’s plans of keeping Hermione safe, and he knew that Harry was a major part of them.

He had to say, he was extremely impressed with the progress Harry had made. No one, not even his father and the other Marauders (excluding Lupin) were ever able to achieve a full animagus transformation so quickly. The boy was just full of surprises, and this newest development was one of them. The same went for his fierce protectiveness of the young woman holding him back by a leash.

Mr.Weasley was no fool, he knew that not all of what Harry was doing was fake. He truly cared for Hermione a great-deal, on a level he was sure neither of them noticed just yet. But the way he stood in front of her now, almost possessively, was evidence enough.

“Right then, everyone,” Mr. Weasley said, breaking the silence, “I imagine the food must be getting cold. Why don’t we all head down to the meadow and get this picnic started.”

That seemed to be all Ron needed to hear; he beat a hasty retreat before anyone could breath a word.

Everyone else, not knowing what to do, followed after him. Ginny, who had been giggling behind her hand during the whole ordeal, merely winked at Hermione in a gesture that clearly meant ‘I told you so’ as she walked past her and out the backdoor.

The older witch glared at her friend playfully, yet she couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit grateful to her furry companion.

Speaking of which, why exactly was he nudging her legs with his nose as if he were trying to tell her something?

“What is it, love?” she asked him, a little startled and confused when he grabbed her wrist in his mouth and began pulling her towards his back, albeit very gently.

“I think, perhaps, he wants you to get on his back, Hermione,” interjected a suspiciously smiling Mr. Weasley.

“Bast, I couldn’t do that. I’d be much too heavy for you,” she tried to reason, but he just shook his shaggy head as if to say no, and began nudging his side against her persistently.

“Maybe you should take him up on the offer, Hermione. After all, the meadow is a good half a mile’s hike from here. Not to mention Bast, as you call him, is huge and looks to be very strong. I don’t see where he’d have a problem in carrying you,” spoke the fathering Weasley once again. He knew he shouldn’t be pushing this up, judging by the looks his lovely wife was giving him, but really this was all just too much fun.

“Oh… oh, I suppose you’re right, but… if I get too heavy for you, let me know okay?” Sighing at the ridiculousness of it all, Hermione climbed onto Bast’s back as she was bid… and was surprised to find just how solid it felt. (A/n: Just think Battle Cat)

Harry, on the other side of things, was enjoying this immensely…

Only until he felt she had braced herself did he move. He would have smirked if he could, when he heard her ‘eep’ once he’d trotted off.

He could barely feel Hermione’s weight on his back, only just enough that was comfortable and more pleasant than he’d originally imagined. Even while in motion, he still didn’t really feel the pressure. Although, it was slightly logical if you looked at it right. He was after all, a 5 to 600 pound predator, fashioned mostly of muscle. And here was Hermione, probably no more than a hundred and ten pounds of softness and curves, a feather-weight really.

He liked how she held onto the tuft of fur ‘round his neck so that she wouldn’t fall off; not that he’d let her fall anyway. He loved the way she seemed to have relaxed against him and was completely at ease with what should have been very unusual for her.

To be honest, Harry felt better now than he had in months. There was this warmth inside him that he couldn’t exactly place, a warmth that was only present when Hermione was around.

At the moment, though, he was just content to enjoy himself…

****

The meadow was nothing but green lushness, rolling hills, and clear blue skies. To feel the soft grass under your naked toes and the cool breeze flowing through the many shade trees, it was heaven to behold.

And Harry had to agree…

So far, things were going well. The food had been extraordinarily good, and everyone was laughing and talking about various things. The Weasley couple and the Grangers were discussing muggle life-style, Ginny and Hermione were talking about the up and coming school term, and Ron… Ron spent his time quietly stuffing his face and grumbling, all the while glaring at Bast.

He wasn’t exactly paying him any attention at the moment, not that he could spare it anyway. He was gloriously full from that delicious roast and fried chicken courtesy of Mrs. Weasley, and he was currently having his ears scratched and belly rubbed by two of Hogwarts’ most attractive witches. Harry didn’t think it could get any better than this, especially with his head in Hermione’s lap, completely surrounded by her most enthralling, intoxicating scent. He really hadn’t known just how good Crookshanks had it ‘till now. Also, this vantage point gave him the unexpected opportunity to better observe his female best friend.

One of the first things he found himself noticing was the way she dressed. Oh, he’d seen her dress casually during Hogsmeade weekends and all that, but otherwise, it was always that drab uniform and black robes. Today, however, was quite a different story.

She was wearing a baby-blue tank top and a pair of denim shorts that were cut to mid-thigh. While they were on the way to the meadow, she had pinned her hair up into a high-ponytail, exposing the graceful arc of her neck.

He’d never seen her show that much skin in the entire time he’d known her, and he couldn’t bring himself to complain. Although, he did have his misgivings about Ron seeing her that way; didn’t want the bloke to get any ideas.

Another thing he noticed was Hermione’s difference in behavior. For some reason, he had never expected her to be so… what was the word… feminine, yeah. And yet, here she was gushing over some muggle magazine with Ginny, discussing how ‘hot’ or not some guy was of all things.

“Oh come on, Hermione, you cannot tell me James Marsters isn’t hot! Look at him!” she practically screamed, holding up the magazine so Hermione could see.

“Yes, I suppose. He’s alright if you like that sort. And anyway, I’m much more partial to that American muggle actor. I think his name is Johnny Depp. Oh and I can’t forget Drew Fuller. He’s absolutely adorable, reminds me a bit of Harry.”

“Who’d have thought it…”

“Thought what? That Ginevra Weasley would have a thing for snooty blondes?” Hermione asked innocently. (hint hint)

Ginny gave her hard look, before a small, sinister smile graced her lips.

“No, that Hogwart’s most brilliant witch to date would have a thing for the tall, dark, and handsome type. Perhaps those with… ahem… scars in particular places, maybe?”

“Ginny!”

“What, not that then? Hmm… perhaps you might have a thing for red-heads then,” Ginny wanted to laugh so badly at the awestruck expression on her friend’s face. She was blinking owlishly, and her face was all red, ripe with embarrassment she was sure. God if only Colin were here now!

“That was so low, Gin.”

“Yes I know, but it was great playback for that crack you made. Perhaps you didn’ realize that my mother and father, including my overly protective git of a brother, are less than 4 feet away.”

They were so engrossed in their conversation that they hadn’t even thought that perhaps someone might be listening in, someone right under their noses.

Truthfully, Harry had been half dozing during most of the conversation. But when he’d heard his name mentioned, or rather, his description minus the handsome part, he found himself a bit taken aback.

Were they talking about him? Did Hermione really go for that type of guy… his type? And why the bloody hell was he even thinking about this sort of thing anyway?

“Um.. Hermione? Could I… er… talk to you a second? Alone?” The sudden appearance of Ron had Harry fully awake and instantly on his feet, as well as jarring the girls out of their conversation.

“Er… sure Ron. Why don’t we go over there by that tree?” Hermione suggested, making sure to point out a place in view of everyone. She inwardly sighed with relief when Bast tagged along beside her, as if to give her moral support. Lord knows she would need it.

As they reached their destination, Ron immediately launched into his planned speech,

which came out rather forced.

“Um… listen, Hermione… I… well that is to say… I was wondering ifyouandIcouldgetbacktogether?” he said a bit too quickly, though Hermione understood every word.

“I don’t know about that, Ron. I mean, don’t you think it was a bit of a disaster when we tried the first time? All we did was argue, and it got worse and worse everyday.”

“I’m willing to work at it though, you know, try to stop arguing with you so much.”

“That’s almost the entirety of our conversations, Ron.” -.-

“Come on, Hermione, let’s just give it another shot. Besides, everybody at school thinks we make a great couple.”

“This isn’t about every one at school. It’s about you and me, and jeopardizing our friendship further if we continue with a relationship that obviously wasn’t working to begin with. Besides, how could you have listened to anything anyone else was saying when you were too busy accusing them of trying to steal me away, and being jealous the entire time?”

“Well any man who finds his supposed girlfriend curled up in a rather romantic spot, watching the sunset with his best mate has every right to be jealous!”

“That’s totally unfair, Ron, and you know it!”

“Oh I know it, huh? You were practically in his lap, Hermione! Sitting there, watching the lake like you were a couple or something! When the entire time, you were supposed to be MY girlfriend!”

“There you go again with that possessive attitude of yours! I am no one’s toy or trophy to carry around, and I’m starting to think that’s all you wanted me for in the first place!”

“Oh sure, think what you like little miss ‘Oh Harry, are you alright? Oh Harry, can I get you anything? Oh Harry, want to hold me tight and snog me senseless?’ I could practically see it in your eyes! Bloody bastard has to get everything, leaving me in the dark, always in his bloody shadow!”

“Now you just stop right there, Ronald Weasely. Harry cannot help that he has the fame and the fortune that he bloody got from the death of his PARENTS! Two things which you still have let me remind you. He doesn’t want to be the Boy-Who-Lived, because it’s at the cost of his happiness. He NEVER wanted ANY of those things… all he wants is to be loved and have a family, something he thinks he’ll never experience now because one of the last links to his parents is gone from this world! I cannot believe that you would even dare to think he enjoys any moment of being in the spot-light. He isn’t an attention seeking, self-centered, egotistical, insecure prat like you!

And you know what Ronald? Until you can straighten yourself out and get a clue, I want you to forget I exist for a while. Maybe then you can take the time to realize that not every damn thing in the bloody world revolves around you," she said the last part in a menacing whisper, her usually warm brown eyes full of cold rage.

To say Ron was speechless was an understatement…

He now knew new levels of shock and utter surprise as he stared down at Hermione, who he now realized had grown up a great deal. Right now though, she was so mad she was shaking. A lone tear had escaped it's prison, trailing it's way down her face, and her fists were squeezed tightly at her sides.

And as she turned and walked away from him, he felt a lead weight pressing the pit of his stomach, the validity of her words sinking in…

5. Sulking, Shopping, and Slimy Slytherins

A/n: Before I get on with this chapter, I just want to thank MysticSam for all her help on this. I owe her big-time for helping me dish out this thing… so lets hear it for her -signals round of applause.- Well, anyway, on with the show!

Chapter 4: Sulking, Shopping, and Slimy Slytherins

Mondays…

Dreary, dank, rainy, boring Mondays…

This particular Monday was no exception to the rule…

This Monday, August 25^th was a dreadful day, at least as far as weather goes. The rain had been pouring in buckets since the following night, and it hadn’t stopped since. Ominous clouds sheltered streaking lightning and mighty thunderclaps that shook the darkened sky.

Normally, such a storm found Hermione Granger curled in between her mother and father, seeking warmth and protection against the terror of such elements. Today, however, was much different indeed.

Hermione was curled up on her own bed, the large body of her feline companion curled around her in an offering of safety and warmth, which she gladly took. It was quite a sight to behold really. Her head rested against his thick neck, face buried in that thatch of fur, while one of his huge paws rested on her side as if he were holding her close.

But the young witch’s mind was not occupied with her current position, yet with deeper thoughts, darker undercurrents.

‘The nerve of that ruddy git…’ that random thought echoed through her head, yet, the same anger that had been behind it three days ago had somewhat cooled and perhaps subsided. The words, now, accompanied a sense of sorrow, self-justification, and possibly just a tinge of regret.

‘He deserved it… every word of it.’

Maybe just not quite as harshly as it was delivered, hmm?

‘I think he got it just like it should have been given; straight and to the point with no sugar-coatings or soft underbellies. He’s never gotten anything else from me that way, why should this be different?’

Perhaps…But did you see the look on his face afterwards? You can’t tell me you actually enjoyed that…

‘Well of course I didn’t! He is my best friend, after all. I would never take pleasure or satisfaction in his pain.’

Then, Ms. Granger, why did you feel better afterwards? Why did it feel like a load off your shoulders, a weight lifted after so many months of compression and agony?

‘Because…’

Yes? Because what?

‘Because… I…’

Because now you’ve said your piece. Because after what seemed like years of standing by and watching him fall deeper and deeper into that pit of insecurities and jealousy, after hoping and wishing that it was all a faze, you’ve finally made a move and told him what no one else would tell him, in a way that no one else would dare broach.

“That’s right, isn’t it Bast?” she suddenly said to her feline companion, leaning back a bit to look up into his face.

“I did say what needed to be said. I told him exactly what he needed to hear, in the way it needed to be said instead of arguing with him ‘till I was blue in the face. I told him exactly what he needed to know to get his head out of his arse and start thinking of others. Right?” she asked him again, almost desperately as she looked into his bottomless green eyes that bore into her own. He didn’t do anything to indicate the affirmative or negative to her question. Rather, he just stared as if searching for something, something that had caused that tremble of doubt in her voice.

Perhaps she was afraid he’d find it, for she closed her eyes and sighed, laying her head against his neck once again.

“Then… why do I feel so… guilty?”

Because… You are keeping secrets, Ms. Granger… (A/n: Can anyone guess what those secrets are?)

****

Harry closed his eyes and buried his nose in Hermione’s hair, breathing in her calming scent to perhaps douse his emblazoned temper.

He couldn’t stand thinking about Ron for one minute, especially after seeing that desperate, almost haunted look in Mione’s eyes. Yet it seemed like no matter how hard he tried, his mind kept going back to that stupid argument.

He was feeling everything from betrayal, to hurt, to indescribable rage.

What confused him, though, was that he didn’t quite understand why…

Most of the time, he didn’t care about Ron’s jealousy of him because he chalked it up to his touchiness about his family’s financial state. Why should he care, when he knew the circumstances under which his fame and fortune came? Besides, Ron always came around eventually. Everyone had their break-away every now and again, it was just natural in a friendship.

But then why had it affected him so… deeply this time?

Glancing down at the young witch curled so closely next to him, he came to a startling conclusion. The difference in all those arguments and the previous one was very simple; Ron was attacking Hermione because of Harry.

When Ron was standing there, bellowing accusations in Hermione’s face, Harry’s protective instincts flared to life immediately, and he might have done something rash had Hermione not intervened with her own ‘choice words.’

Again, he didn’t care that Ron took cheap shots at him, or lashed out at him in his jealousy; he was used to such treatment as he was privy to years of abuse from his ‘family.’ He found himself at odds, however, when Ron decided it would be a good idea to attack Hermione for being a good friend.

For all intents and purposes, Hermione was most likely a good girlfriend and Ron just couldn’t stand the fact of having something good going for him for once and had had to ruin it.

‘I’d never treat her that way…’

Whoa… okay, where the bloody hell did that come from? His mind had suddenly gone from good friend to girlfriend and he wasn’t even aware of that split second change.

Harry shied away from the thought, but try as he might, it kept resurfacing in his mind. Would it be so bad , Hermione as his girlfriend? Although the idea at first seemed ludicrous, the more his mind replayed the possibilities the more it became, dare he even think it… appealing. Oh, and wouldn't it be the perfect revenge--to actually prove Ron right after the fact and have him live with the knowledge that he was the one that had pushed Harry and Hermione together in the first place? A plan instantly began to formulate in his head.

And the reason behind said plan?

Although the excuse he gave himself for wanting to get together with Hermione was to get back at Ron, there was a part of him that whispered, 'Who do you think you’re kidding, Potter? You know you were jealous as all get-out when you found out Ron and Hermione were together-- even if they were broken up at the time. That’s the true reason you're mad at him-- subconsciously, you’ve always wanted her, and it took Ron’s mistreating her for you to realize it.’

Of course, he wasn’t quite smart enough to formulate a plan of attack that complicated, especially where Hermione was involved. She’d see right through him, and in doing so, would most likely never speak to him again for his antics.

Besides, he didn’t even know if she felt that way for him. How could she? She was a beautiful, brilliant, and absolutely breath-taking young woman with aspirations and goals for her life; what the hell would she want with him?

Yet, even as he asked himself that question, he had to reason that no other girl would EVER do for him the things that Hermione’s done.

Perhaps there was hope… But hope for what? Hope that she could possibly have feelings for him? And just what would he do if she did?

Harry was prevented from further musings, brought out of his thoughts by the movement at his side.

He looked up to find that Hermione was suddenly on her feet, a determined expression on her face.

C'mon Bast," she said firmly. "Let's go outside."

He shot her a look that clearly conveyed 'Are you mad? It's bloody pouring out there…' With that, he curled on his side, and even went so far as to close his eyes. Hermione’s expression was beyond amused. "Oh come on. You know you want to come outside with me. Besides, look" casting a quick charm under her breath, she pointed at the window, though not before hiding her wand behind her back. "The rain's letting up."

She gave him her best sad look, figuring if it worked on Harry and Ron on the rare occasions she did use it, it was bound to work on Bast, who reminded her so much of Harry as it was. He gave her a disgruntled look and his ears flattened against his head, but he reluctantly followed her out the door, down the stairs, and out into the backyard.

Two steps out, however, he yowled in surprise as cold rain hit the back of his neck, causing him to make a mad dash back to the porch.

Hermione couldn't help it; she cracked up, giggling helplessly at the insulted expression on her feline companion's face.

"Oh, it's not that bad!"

In the event of her laughter, she began twirling carelessly in circles in the pouring rain. She held out her arms and raised her face to the sky, breathing in the cool, fresh scent.
Still a little miffed, Harry settled to watch, his tail twitching involuntarily as water trickled down his back. 'The things I do for that girl…' he grumbled to himself. 'I'm a cat--cats don't like water, which I’m sure she knows. I bet she never made Crookshanks do that…'

The other cat in question was no where to be seen--probably warm, dry, and asleep on Hermione's bed--so he didn't even have anyone to complain to.

Hermione ignored him for the moment, twirling faster and faster, her feet bare in the wet grass. She looked like a water nymph, free and magical.

Intrigued despite himself, Harry inched forward out into the rain.

She saw him move, but didn't acknowledge his presence until he was right beside her. Suddenly, she reached out in an almost unseen move and tugged lightly on his tail. "Tag! You're it!" She exclaimed mischievously, and took off running across the yard.

Instinctively, Harry bounded after her, taking advantage of his more nimble animal form and Seeker reflexes to cut her off each time she dodged and made for escape. It didn’t quite help that she was laughing uncontrollably as he chased her.

He finally cornered her in the far end of the yard and nudged her hard in the thigh with his nose.
"Okay, okay!" she laughed. "You caught me. Let's go back inside--I'm freezing!"
Breathless, and feeling lighter than she had in months, Hermione ran back for the house with Bast hot on her heels. She paused in the mud room for towels to dry off the worst of the muck and wetness that they had accumulated before heading upstairs for dry clothes and a warm shower.
Harry didn't have the same advantage, so he found a spot in front of the fire and settled down on the rug to dry out the regular way. Hermione could've easily dried them both instantly with a flick of her wand but, like Harry was prone to do, she reverted back to Muggle habits and methods when she was at home.

He was nearly dry by the time she padded back downstairs, now dressed in a warm pair of flannel pajamas and her hair pulled up in a messy bun atop her head.

"Rather than waiting for the stove to heat up in the cold kitchen, I thought we'd have dinner out here," she told Bast cheerfully, pulling out a pack of hot dogs, some buns, and her wand.
Within mere seconds, there were hotdogs and buns floating over the fireplace, cooking to perfection. Settling down on the rug, she used Bast as a backrest, closing her eyes with a sigh.
"That was the most fun I've had in a long time," she said quietly, running her hands lazily through his coat. Harry closed his eyes in contentment as a low rumble sounded through his body. He heard a soft chuckle. "Was that you purring, or are you trying to tell me the hot dogs are ready?"
Lulled by her voice and soothing caresses, he sighed, relaxing into the rug. Giggling softly, Hermione fixed a hot dog for herself before waving one under Bast's nose. "I guess this means you're not hungry then." she teased and went to draw the food away. Large teeth suddenly encircled her wrist, not biting down, but not letting her move, either. Her eyes widened slightly. "Then again..." She held still as he delicately took the hot dog from her hand and consumed it in one bite.

Harry instinctively knew he’d startled her, and sought to make it up to her by leaning in to nuzzle her neck. It had nothing to do with him wanting to get closer to her, or take in more of her scent… no, nothing like that…

Hermione couldn't help smiling at the gesture; clearly her intuitive companion had sensed her unease and sought to comfort her. It was more surprise than fright that had caught her off guard, which he mistook for unease. She had gotten so use to treating Bast like an oversized version of Crookshanks that she had forgotten that he was still a large, very formidable predator with the instincts and reflexes to go along with.
He was so insistent, however, that she relaxed once more at his urging and returned to absently stroking his head. "You are such an oversized kitten," she chuckled softly. "It's easy to forget that you could be a match for Professor Lupin as a werewolf."

They finished their meal and settled back on the rub for a bit more R&R when suddenly, a regale, tawny brown owl swooped in from the kitchen. Hooting loudly as it spotted her, it hovered for a moment, glaring suspiciously at Bast before landing cautiously on Hermione's shoulder and remaining still long enough for her to untie the letter from it's leg.

Before she could offer it any refreshments, the owl was off again with an insulting hoot aimed at the large black cat lazily licking it's lips as it moved into a crouch.

"Bast! No teasing the owls!" Hermione scolded without looking up. His tail lashing, Bast growled in annoyance to himself and settled back down. How does she do that? Harry wondered, but was distracted by Hermione's excited squeal. "Twelve O.W.Ls!

"I had hoped, of course, but I thought for sure that I had failed that last question in Transfiguration..." Harry yawned and tuned her out. So the O.W.L. results were out. He wondered what he had gotten, but determinedly put the thought out of his mind, as there was no way he could find out until this assignment was over.

****

Since receiving her O.W.L. scores and book list, as well as her prefect’s badge, Hermione had been adament about going school shopping in Diagon Alley.

Of course, they couldn’t go that very day or the day after due to the heavy rain, so naturally they would go today.

Bast wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to go, knowing especially that he wouldn’t be able to be ‘himself’ while there. As odd as it may seem, he wanted to go with her as the Harry she knew him to be, and not just a larger version of a bloody housecat. He wanted to take her out for ice cream, maybe even buy her something nice, or hold her hand while walking down the street together as they laughed and talked along the way.

He couldn’t quite explain the feeling, though he knew it was much like the ones he’d been having since two days ago, possibly longer.

Also, he was feeling uneasy about Hermione being out in the wizarding public.

Truthfully, they hadn’t really been out of the house most of the summer except for the time at the Burrow and Hermione’s frequent trips to the library, during which times he was suspicious as to why those targeting her did not try an attack; it was almost perfect timing for it.

Today would be the first time either of them would be amongst their own kind, and instead of feeling elated about it, he was almost to the point of fearing for her safety. Granted, any Death Eater would have to be pretty stupid to try an attack in the middle of Diagon Alley when there was such a high risk of Aurors appearing on the spot, but still… He couldn’t very well protest the trip, or postpone it, though. Hermione was ecstatic about going, and he wasn’t about to deny her something that obviously made her so happy; that is, the prospect of buying new books.

Exhaling heavily, Harry made his way into Mione’s room to watch her pick out something to wear for the day.

Meanwhile, Hermione, who was oblivious to the presence of her protector, stood in only her underwear in front of her closet, trying to figure out what she was going to wear to Diagon Alley.

It was a beautiful, sunny day out, and she thought perhaps to wear something appropriate for the temperature, but what? There was always her favorite of skirts-- she had quite an assortment, but did she really want to wear that? And what about shirts? Would she rather wear pink, or perhaps a powdered-blue? Then there were the shoes to pick out as well.

Argh!

When did she start becoming such a bloody... girl?!

It never mattered to her before what she wore when school shopping. After all, the whole purpose was to buy school things. And yet, here she was going out of her mind trying to figure out what would be the best outfit for such an occasion.

She’d spent way too much time around Lavender and Parvati…

Finally, deciding against the girly stuff altogether, she chose something of a more boyish, yet extremely cute look. She would wear her black graphic T with the words “I Need Supervision” on the chest, followed by her pale-green cargo khakis, her “Thundercat” wrist band, and finish off the ensemble with a pair of all black, white-striped shell-toe Adidas.

Yes, that would be perfect.

As she pulled on said clothes, she wasn't really aware of Bast's presence until she turned and saw him laying on the rug next to her bed. She was startled for a moment, but gave a great sigh of relief when she noticed his gaze was elsewhere. She hadn't really known it at the time, but this gave her the unpredicted opportunity to study her most recent companion.

At this precise moment, he did not have the look of an animal, magical or otherwise. He looked as if he were staring off into space, deep in contemplation about something or other. There was something entirely too human about it, and it made her rethink her earlier dismissal of the idea that this 'animal' might well be a wizard in animagus form. She did, however, continue to dismiss the idea that he might be an enemy. Usually, she wasn't one to trust something as fickle as emotion, but her instincts were surely trustworthy enough in telling her that there was nothing suspicious or evil about this... extremely intelligent creature.

“Hermione, get down here! You’re going to make me late for work if you don’t hurry up!” yelled her mother from down stairs, effectively scattering her thought process to the four winds.

“Coming, Mum! Come on, love, it’s time you got your first taste of Diagon Alley,” she said to Bast, attaching a leash to his collar. As they made their way downstairs, she noticed with great amusement that he was eyeing the leash with no small amount of distaste.

“I’m sorry, sweetie, but you have to wear it. I know you’re a good boy, but it’s just incase someone says something.”

He grumbled, but complied readily when he felt her begin to scratch behind his ears. It really wasn’t fair how she could just persuade him like that…

The heavenly caresses stopped, though, when her mum opened the back door of her Envoy for him to hop in. The inside was pretty spacious, or at least, it was big enough to hold all of him comfortably.

He heard Hermione close the door, and he watched as she got in the front seat and turned around to wink at him.

The drive to the Muggle entrance of the Leaky Cauldron was uneventful. Hermione kissed her mum good-bye and jumped out of the vehicle. She checked to make sure no one was watching before letting Bast out at well and ushering him inside.

She waved hello to Tom, who greeted her warmly, politely not addressing the rather large issue of the cat that followed behind on a leash. Out back, Hermione eagerly tapped her wand against the brick wall the required amount of times, and almost gave a delighted squeal when the bricks began rolling away. There revealed was Diagon Alley in all it’s glory, bustling merrily with quite the mass of Britain’s wizarding public.

With a swell of enthusiasm, Hermione led her charge into the streets and over to Gringotts to retrieve her money for the shopping venture. The little goblins at first had a problem with Bast’s being there, but Hermione quickly assured them that he would be of no trouble. They were in and out of there as quickly as possible, though, so there was no cause for concern.

Once their business was done, Hermione headed--not-so surprisingly-- straight for Flourish and Blotts.

She practically floated into her favorite store, starring star-struck at wall upon wall of new to ancient tomes, all there for the reading. The adoration in her eyes was something akin to Ron’s love for the Cannons.

Harry grinned inwardly. He’d never known anyone to be so stir-crazy about books. Hermione was no nerd, of course; she was much to gorgeous for that. Yet, even she admitted to her status as a major bookworm, and proudly-so at that.

Even so, Harry watched her with none-too mild a fondness, watched as she explored the shelves of books with vigor, yet handled them with the care of a mother’s touch.

Just then, Harry’s deeper senses distracted him from her, and he slowly stepped in front of her, his stance protective, possessive even, as he growled low and threateningly.

Looking up from her book to see what all the commotion was about, Hermione caught sight of the one person she had hoped to avoid seeing today… or forever if possible. Chocolate-brown eyes rolled to the heavens, asking for strength as the one and only Draco Malfoy came onto the scene.

“Well, well, look who it is. Seems as though the Mudblood has finally wised up and gotten herself some protection. Lord knows you need it,” Malfoy drawled in his usual condescending way.

Bast’s growl became considerably louder, and he bared his teeth in a snarl. If one looked closely, it could be noticed that he was seriously restraining himself from sinking his claws into that sodding snake’s smug face.

“Now, Bast, play nice. We mustn’t get too close to the filth, might be overtaken by the fungus growing on it,” Hermione retorted coolly, her face blank of expression except for a small, humorless smile.

Harry had to hand it to her; she was really putting up a great front, better than normal. He could tell she was even enjoying getting under Malfoy’s skin a little, but he could practically smell her uneasiness and discomfort of the situation, even if she made it seem as though she was unruffled.

“I’m not the filth here, Granger,” Draco replied scathingly, his hand slipping into his robes threateningly.

“Oh please, Malfoy, get over yourself. I would think since we’re doomed to forever encounter each other through out our entire Hogwarts careers, the least you could do is think up some new material.”

“Why you…” his anger took the words from his mouth, and he, instead, pulled his wand fully from his robes; he was going to let it do the talking for him.

However, before he could even utter a syllable, he felt the white-hot pain of knives sinking into his ankle. Those knives attached and pulled hard, effectively yanking him off his feet. He winced in pain upon impact with the cold, hard-wood floor. A girlish yelp escaped his lips when his assent from the floor was impeded by something very large.

He had a sneaking suspicion what it was…

Cracking one eye open a fraction, the first thing he saw was a set of extremely intimidating, razor-sharp teeth, followed by merciless green eyes looking scornfully down at him over a dark muzzle.

Needless to say, Draco’s heart had all but stopped, and now both his eyes were popping out of the sockets, wide with fear.

“Bast!" Hermione scolded, trying her best to look stern. Struggling to keep the laughter from bubbling over, she tugged on his leash--not very forcibly though, Harry noted. "I know Malfoy is an evil git with ferrety tendencies but really, love, there’s no reason to soil your teeth on him. Besides, there’s definitely a reason for that pinched expression that dominates features constantly, and I can only imagine it must be from having to smell himself all the time." She stepped over Malfoy's prone form, ignoring his pitiful cries for help, and tugged lightly on Bast's leash once again. "Come on, sweetheart--I need to pay for my books and then we can get out of here. Maybe I'll even buy you an ice cream to rid you of what must be an awful taste in your mouth.”

Still growling under his breath, he too stepped over the Slytherin, being sure to plant one large paw squarely in his chest before prowling in his mistress's wake.

A large bag of school books in hand, they weren’t far down the street when Harry’s senses suddenly went on full panic alert. He began looking around frantically, trying for all he was worth to find the source of this disturbance. His aura crackled with the sheer intensity of his urgency, his instincts screaming that Hermione’s life was definitely in danger.

He heard the crowd begin to murmur, and some folks slipped away as quickly as possible into the nearby shops, almost emptying in the streets. There were five figures left standing in the middle of the street. Harry and Hermione were the first two. The other three?

They were all completely dressed in black, their wands out and pointing directly at Hermione…

TBC

6. Diagon Alley Disaster

A/n: Again, I want to express my deepest gratitude to MysticSam for helping me in this endeavor. I hope you guys enjoy it!^^

Chapter 5: Diagon Alley Disaster

Before Hermione could even utter a word, one of the assailants immediately cast a stunning spell. She was like dear frozen in headlights as she watched the oncoming red jet of light speed toward her. Bast, however, was having none of that.

Just as the as the spell would hit it’s target, the large feline used his massive bulk to push her out of the way and conveniently into the open door way of Flourish and Blotts... She was back on her feet in an instant and ran to help him, but she found that something was blocking the exit.

It would seem as though our young Mr. Potter was capable of more than he’s given credit, for that protection barrier he cast was an extension of the wandless magic induced by a combination of his incredible skill and instinctual need to protect she whom he considered his own. It was a clever spell, really. Unfortunately, it was about all the magic he was capable of while holding down this form.

Bellatrix Lestrange,having been the smarter of this particular group, realized that in order to get to the 'Mudblood’, they would obviously have to kill the cat first… and it seemed it had the same idea, for she suddenly heard a scream and the sickly sounds of snapping of bones...

Dolohov was quickly being undone, right before her eyes, and she had been too slow to notice the predator’s quick action to take them out one by one. And he started with the arrogant fool who had almost killed that Granger girl in the first place.

Her eyes, despite the ringing in the back of her mind that she should perhaps act, were riveted to the scene of her cohort’s wrist being snapped like a mere toothpick, his wand taken through the same process. The now-too-pale Death Eater fell hard to his knees, staring in horror-filled awe and his mutilated wrist.

It was indeed as the female Death Eater had predicted, Bast was picking them off one by one, but purposely avoiding Bellatrix, who had begun to shoot numerous hexes at. He dodged them all effortlessly, unknowingly as his eyes were only for Lucious at that moment.

Malfoy tried his damndest to throw every spell he could imagine at the creature but, either he dodged them or he simply let it hit him and determinedly kept coming despite the force behind each spell. He turned tail and ran but the back of his calf was caught betwixt massive jaws, and with swift jerk of the beast's head, said leg snapped all the way up to the knee, causing the most horrendous scream from this unlikely victim. Unable to deal with this pain of the extreme, Lucious Malfoy fell faint to the hard, cobble-stone street, his wand now well out of reach.

For the first time since she was a child, there was fear in the eyes of Bellatrix Lestrange as she stared at the beast who now stared back at her with cold, malicious eyes. Those eyes, so green and familiar, held no remorse, no mercy in them for her. And more than anything, they seemed to say…'run.'

And run she did...

Unfortunately, in the blindness of her fear, she ran into a dark alley, a dead-end it would seem.. And she stood there, cornered, her back against the stone-cold wall of a building as the creature watched her from the end of the alley.

Hermione's mind was reeling with every possible negative, frenzied thought ever affiliated with violence. She kicked that accursed barrier again for keeping her in what was now her least favorite place in the world, instead of out there helping Bast. She couldn't believe he'd practically pushed her in here! It was as if he were trying to protect her, to take on all the danger himself just so she wouldn't get hurt. At that moment, she should have put two and two together but she was too busy trying to figure out how to get out of her temporary prison.

Suddenly, an idea struck her, and she rushed through the thick crowds of people inside, shamelessly watching the battle outside until the only two opponents had left their sight. Hermione dashed to the back exit, and thanked God a thousand time over when the door opened and she was allowed outside. Immediately, she ran from the alley and into the courtyard, trying to get her bearings straight as to where they'd gone to. But this was no time to think, to analyze the situation as she would normally, so she just ran for the alley nearest her. Luckily, she found the correct one, for she was halted by the scene of Lestrange, cruel and merciless murderer of her own cousin, cornered and scared out of her mindl Her eyes were intent on the predator who slowly stalked closer. He watched her with eyes full of hate and malice, two things that should never be in the eyes of any real, true, normal animal.

How… how was this happening... what could cause her beloved, sweet Bast to be so intent on Bellatrix of all people. He was just an animal, supposedly, just a creature no one even knew the existence of until little more than a month ago. So why now did he hold such pure loathing in his eyes as he approached his prey, as if it were some deep-seated emotion that had been trapped in his well-being for what seemed too long?

'Oh.. My.. God,' Hermione thought, her mind struck ruthlessly with the force of her sudden insight... she had to stop this...

"Harry don't!" she shouted, and the animal immediately stiffened, stopping where he had been in the process of a pounce. "Harry, it's not worth it, please! I know she killed Sirius, and I know she caused you great pain, butreturning that favor will only make you just like her."

Harry had never taken his eyes off his enemy for a moment. He was practically feeding off the fear she exuded. He could even smell it, it was so tangible, and it was making his instincts flair wildly. Yet, he was immediately brought back down to earth by the voice of his female-best friend. She caused a great conflict in him, one that made him hesitate from the termination of his prey. Her wanted that bitch gone, for good. He

wanted her to suffer like he had only months ago but... Hermione would never, ever look at him the same if he did.

With great hesitance did he relent, perhaps too quickly he thought, but it was just in time as there were several loud popping sounds all around the alley and the courtyard. No Death Eaters abound, but the Order members had just arrived, and he watched as Bellatrix was hit with a body-binding spell, and stripped of her wand, which was snapped in half.

With the appearance of the Order, the seriousness of the situation and what had just happened seemed to sink into Hermione's brain. She put a hand to her head, feeling suddenly very faint. Arthur Weasley saw her stumble and managed to catch her just as the young witch blacked out.

When she came to, she found herself in a room at the Leaky Cauldron, tucked safely into bed. Bast-Harry-was curled up at her side, sound asleep.

Questions boiled around in her head, and she opened her mouth, intending on demanding some answers to said inquiries, but one look at the exhausted creature next to her had her softening. Reaching out slowly, she gently brushed her hand over his head as she had done so many times, watching as those green eyes fluttered and opened.

"Well, Mr. Potter," she smiled wanly. "It's been quite a summer, and you have some serious explaining to do."

His eyes, which had been half dazed with sleep, immediately shot open and had gone amusedly wide..

"You are quite busted Harry James Potter. So I suggest you revert back to that form we all know and love, and take your medicine like man."

Having no doubt that she meant that last order, he reluctantly shimmered and blurred, until he was back to his normal form. []A/n: sorry about the lack of description here, but I wasn’t sure what to do.[]

"Er...hi Hermione." He smiled weakly.

"Hi Hermione?" She repeated. "You've been right under my nose all summer, and all you have to say is 'Hi Hermione'?"

He wilted slightly under her glare, not picking up on the fact that she was getting quite the kick out of watching him squirm "Look, 'Mione, I would've told you if I could--"

"I cannot believe that the entire time, you were with me. I knew something as amiss, that something just didn‘t feel right about the situation. I knew that no animal, magical or otherwise could be that intelligent, or could know my tendencies so well," She breathed, as all the pieces began to fall into place… And she was suddenly aghast with her deducing abilities, having not figured this out sooner.

“I know, Mione, and I'm sorry. Like I said, I would have told you if I could, but... your life depended on my secrecy," he told her, looking at her beseechingly, almost pleading with her to believe him.

Hermione suddenly became rather angry. Poor Harry was in for quite a moodswing. And she was bloody well entitled to it, what with the day she’d had. But as always, he managed to get under her skin and the anger melted away. Almost. "Oh, and you felt it necessary to put your life in danger to protect mine?"

"And is there something wrong with that, Hermione? Is there something wrong with my not being able to stand the fact that someone was plotting your death, and I could actually do something about it?" Harry counted, his voice rising as he rose form his seated position on the bed.

As soon as he was standing, she became distracted by just how much Harry had grown since she’d last seen him; that is, in human form. Hermione, as she was trying to hold her anger, knew she really shouldn’t be thinking… untoward things in the middle of an argument, but she couldn’t help noticing. It looked as though he’d shot up to a fair height of about 6’2, dwarfing her even more than before; not that she minded. The rest of him wasn’t looking to shabby either.

His face was no longer child-like and rounded, but became sharp, angular, and his strong jaw was covered with a light shade of stubble. His hair had grown considerably, locks curling at the ends in the back. The bangs, though, were still the same if not a bit longer, almost covering his eyes completely. And speaking of his eyes, she noted they were not obscured by glasses as they typically were. Her own eyes traveled lower in their examination, noting how much broader his shoulders and chest were. His arms and abdomen were no exceptions, both cut and broad, yet there was no beefiness about him.

Too sum it up, Harry Potter had become a one hundred percent heart-throb.

Shaking her head to rid herself of those thoughts, she sighed in mild frustration and pinched the bridge of her nose.

“No, there’s nothing wrong with that. But you know I worry about you, Harry. I don’t like the idea of you being in danger, possibly getting severely injured or worse because of me. And I especially don’t like you keeping those kinds of secrets from me!”

In his frustration, Harry ran a hand through his ever-messy black hair, pacing as he did so.

"Hermione, you're my best friend, right?"

"Yes," she answered cautiously, wondering what new tack he was going to take.

"And you remember how... aggravated I got when everyone was trying to keep me out of things 'for my own good', right?”

"Of course I do," she answered, flooded with memories of how angry and hurt he had been during their fifth year. She remembered him mentioning something about Dumbledore and the rest of the Order keeping things from him that could have very well eliminated all the trouble they went through.

He turned toward her, eyes flashing with slight irritation. "Then how can you be mad at me for taking the opportunity to be useful, and protect someone I care about so deeply?" He exploded. "Merlin, Hermione, yes, I knew what I was doing, but I couldn't just sit back and watch while you were potentially in danger!"

Hermione sighed and stood from the bed, walking directly up to her obviously upset companion. "Listen, Harry, I understand your frustration, and I'm not so blind so as not to see that you really needed this. And I can’t say that I’m not extremely flattered that you would go through so much trouble for me. But what you need to understand is that I couldn't stop worrying about you even if I wanted to. And you have to admit, finding out that your closest friend has been right under your nose the entire summer is a little unnerving."

Despite himself, Harry chuckled softly. "Yeah, truth be told, I thought you would chew me up and spit me out for this one."

"Honestly, Harry, I'm not that bad! Besides, now that I’m passed the initial shock of this thing, I'm actually quite proud of you," she said as a small smile graced her lips. She smothered the urge to giggle when she noticed her statement had brought this extremely amusing expression of bafflement to his face.

"Harry, after five years of mostly obeying the rules and constraints Dumbledore has placed on you, you finally took matters into your own hands and did something about it!

I do wish that you had warned me about it, but I'm still very proud of you!"

The expression of befuddlement left the youth's face, and was replaced with something completely different, and yet unreadable. Hermione couldn't quite tell what he was feeling, but she definitely got the clue when she was suddenly enveloped in a very strong, very warm embrace. He wrapped his arms tightly around her mid-section and held her even closer when he felt her bring her arms up around his broad shoulders.

"Thanks, Mione," he told her softly, though his response was muffled, his face buried in her chestnut curls.

After a moment, she pulled away. "Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way..." she fixed him with a mock-stern gaze. "You and I need to clear up a couple of things, Bast."

Harry gulped. "Ummm..."

To his surprise, she burst into helpless fits of laughter. "Oh, the look on Ron's face when you growled at him! And Draco! Merlin, I wish I had a camera!"
He relaxed slightly, only to jump in surprise when she poked one sharp finger in his abdomen. "You little sneak! I just realized something--you--all summer--following me around--while I was undressing--Ooooh!"

Struggling to keep a straight face, Harry backed away slowly, his hands held up in self-defense. "Now, 'Mione...Come on! I'm a sixteen year old male, and I got to spend the entire summer with my gorgeous female best friend! How could I not--" he stopped short at the expression on her face. "Hermione?"

She bit her lip, something she did when she was hesitant, an action he found to be extremely cute and endearing. "You think I’m pretty?"

He blinked. He had been so caught up in his teasing that he hadn't noticed his confession. "Of course I do," he answered matter-of-factly, as if it should be the most obvious thing in the world. "Your my best friend. Why wouldn't I?"

“Oh, I see,” and just like that, he could tell her mood suddenly dropped a couple of notches.

He frowned, as he regarded her warily, not liking the change in her scent at all. Neither did he like the fact that she’d turned away from him, her arms crossed her arms over her chest as she was clearly giving him the cold shoulder.

"Hermione?" he repeated softly, touching her on the shoulder. "Why..."

"It's okay Harry, I understand completely," she said, her voice did not waver, and if he didn’t have extra-sensory abilities, Harry would never know true feelings.

He watched in bemusement as she walked slowly to the door, shrugging off his touch. "I'm going for a walk," she said in a hollow voice. "I won't be gone long."

What had just happened? Harry wondered. One minute everything had been wonderful, and now…

You’re thick, Potter, do you know that? She thinks you think of her as JUST your best friend, and it’s quite clear that she doesn’t want that. This is the sign you’ve been waiting for, man! She has no idea that you like her as anything more, and she won't know until you get up off your sorry arse and go after her!

He gave no more time to this urgent pondering and hurried out the door, catching her at the top of the stairs. "Hermione, wait," he said, grabbing her by the elbow. "You know you're one of the most important people in my life, right?"

She nodded dully. "I'm your best friend. I know. Let it go, Harry."

He ignored her. "Through everything, you’ve been the one person I've been able to consistently count on. I don't know what I would do without you in my life," he finished softly.

She bit her lip at the truth in his eyes. "You... keep me balanced. You're my other half, Mione. That’s something I could never find in Ron.”

Not for the first time that day, Hermione sighed, and turned to fully face her companion."You know, I really should have learned my lesson on the last failed relationship with one of my best friends. I should have completely cast aside any awkward thoughts I may have had for you or Ron. But oddly enough, Potter, I'm completely drawn to you, much like a moth to a flame," she admitted, placing a gentle hand to his fuzzy cheek. "All this time, I’ve been agonizing over my relationship with Ron, and feeling guilty over the fact that I never really wanted him. I thought I did, but my relationship with him was just a filler to replace what I truly wanted, but didn't realize until not a fewhours ago. I wanted, and I still want you, Harry."

Harry was silent for what seemed like an eternity, penetrating her very soul with the depth of his gaze. "You have no idea how much I want you. The extent to which I need you is frightening, but it's exciting all at once. You do things to me that I'm almost not willing to admit, without even putting the effort forth." As he spoke, he got as close to her as he dared, backing her against the stair railing. "My instincts, especially now with the addition of my animagus senses, are in overload, and I'm not sure what to do about that. All I know is, it‘s all for you," he told her even as he settled his big, warm hands on her hips.

Hermione knew she should have been shocked, taken aback, something to relay her girlish innocence, and perhaps ignorance of these kinds of situations. But she wasn't. Instead, the entire time he spoke, she could feel that ever-present tension between them kick up a few notches. And now as she felt his hands rest almost possessively on her hips and the warmth of his body so close to hers, she knew her resolve had all but melted into a sputtering pile of goo. Hermione made a decision just then as he
opened his mouth to speak once more. Before he could utter a sound, her lips were pressed against his, effectively cutting the continuation of his admission.

Harry wasn't the least bit disappointed with this arrangement, and had shamelessly moaned against her mouth upon instant contact. He wrapped his arms around her fully once again and pulled her as close as possible, flush against his form as he deepened the kiss with all his repressed passion and longing. All the while, neither of them were aware of their audience.

Standing in the middle of the stairs, Arthur Weasely watched the young couple amusedly. They were quite the sight, those two, pity he would have to kill the moment.

“Ahem,” he cleared his throat loudly, expecting the two to fly apart as if they were guilty as sin. Instead, they slowly pulled back from the other’s lips as if savoring the moment, though Harry did not for a minute relinquish his hold on his new found love. Not that he blamed him.

“I hate to break up your moment, kids, but we really should talk about what happened today,” he told them with a gentle smile.

He was really going to have to keep Molly away from those two for a while, lest she decide to give them ‘the talk.’

TBC

7. Happy Birthday Harry!

A/n: Hey guys. I’m sorry for taking so long, but I was infected with that well-known disease called writer’s block. I’m a little afraid that this chapter might reflect that. I hope you like it though, even though it’s little more than just a filler for your enjoyment. The next chapter will more eventful, I promise. Oh, and once again I want to thank Mystic for all her help. You rock dude.

Now, on to the goodness! Enjoy ^.~

Chapter 6: Happy Birthday Harry!

Arthur Weasley wasn’t what one would call a complex person. He was a simple man whose life was decidedly not so simple, especially now with the current events in wizarding society. Yet, he was content to live that life, as he still had his family, each one of them intact, healthy, and happy for the most part. One such adopted part of his family was no exception.

With a small, fatherly smile did Mr. Weasley watch his adopted son, Harry Potter sitting across from him at the large table, and his new-found love sitting shamelessly on his lap.

He was struck with a feeling almost like deja-vu, only to realize seconds later that he really had seen this scene before. Lily and James…

Yes, that was it.

He remembered, so many years ago when they first became members of the Order, how close the two had been. He had watched them idly as they conversed with another, their lingering touches, their secret smiles. They were totally engrossed in one another, to the point that it was as if no one else existed. And he was witnessing that very same scene, right here in the present. He thought, perhaps, the boy would appreciate hearing about said similarities.

“You know, Harry,” he spoke up, affectively getting both their attention, “you two remind me quite a bit of Lily and James.”

He did indeed get the desired affect, for Harry’s face could not have lit any brighter at that moment. His bright eyes of green sealed within them the expressions of a longing, love, and curiosity that had boundless depths.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked, his way of speaking to the elder Weasley something akin to the other boys when speaking to their father.

“I was just watching you two, and I couldn’t help but notice your sudden closeness with one another,” he said as he chuckled softly, amused at the blushes that’d risen on their faces.

“You reminded me of the first time I met your mother and father. I don’t think I have ever seen two people who were so into one another. I swear to you Harry, your father was completely hooked. He was so smitten with your mother he would stare for hours if someone didn’t divert his attention every now and again.”

As Mr. Weasley laughed, Harry smiled faintly. Having heard the older gentleman’s words, his heart swelled, all the while his eyes were unabashedly fixated on his Mione. Watching her, conversing with Mr. Weasely as she was, he came to a conclusion; he would be rid of the Dark Lord one way or another. Harry refused to let Voldemort spoil the peace and happiness he had achieved with her. He decided, then, that it was time to stop waiting for the dark wizard to come to him, and bring this fight to an end once and for all.

His mind set, he turned his attention back to the conversation, where Arthur was busy chortling over Hermione's description of how she had suspected something wasn't right about Bast, but was conveniently distracted before she could confront him on the subject

His ears pricked (figuratively) when the top turned to one of more immediate concern: What had happened to Bellatrix, Dolohov, and Malfoy Sr. after the Order members had arrived?

"A good question you have there Hermione. You needn't worry about them anymore, they're being detained in an undisclosed location for now. Azkaban is little more than a joke now, so we thought it best to keep Voldemort's best henchmen in a location to which even he cannot locate. And before you ask, no, it isn't Hogwarts."

"But what about Voldemort? I mean since I practically screamed Harry's name in that alley, is there any possible way he would know of his animagus form? And how hasn't he figured it out before now?"

“As far as we know, the Dark Lord knows nothing right now. He knew nothing in the beginning, thanks to Harry's improved Occlumency skills."

"Occlumency, Harry? Don’t tell me you endured an entire summer of, Snape..."

"Merlin no! I'd be on the brink of bloody insanity otherwise. No, Dumbledore tutored me, saying it would probably be best if he took on the job since Snivellus still has ties with Voldemort."

"Is there anything you didn‘t learn this summer, Potter, or perhaps that‘ll be something else I‘m kept in the dark about?"

"How not to talk around women, apparently..."

Mr. Weasley had quite the hearty laugh over the exchange, shaking his head in amusement at their antics.

“You know, I doubt anyone will be surprised that the two of you are together. Oh! Speaking of surprises, there’s something I’d almost forgotten. Excuse me for a moment, won’t you?”

Harry watched with no small amount of curiosity as Mr. Weasley stood from the table and made for the door. He looked up to ask Hermione if she knew what was up, but the words were halted by the suspicious-looking twinkle in her mocha-tinted eyes, a secretive smile on her lips.

She stood then, moving from his lap only to stand right beside his chair, one of her small hands coming to rest on his shoulder. He was about to ask what was wrong when suddenly the door burst open and scores of red-head filtered into the room, followed by various members of Griffendor house.

With smiling, open faces and bright eyes did they all sing simultaneously…

“Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday dear Harry… Happy Birthday to you!”

Mrs. Weasley then set down what was probably the biggest cookie-doe ice-cream cake (complete with 16 candles) in existence in front of Harry, who was desperately trying to blink back the tears threatening to spill.

“Now Harry, dear, we know your birthday is about a month passed now, but we haven’t forgotten about you in the least. This is your first official birthday party, and we decided we could wait awhile so as to make it as special as possible. So go on ahead then, blow out your candles and make a wish.”

Harry, not trusting his voice at the moment, did as he was told and leaned over the table, closer to his cake. Closing his eyes, he did indeed make his wish before he blew out his candles, a watery smile on his face as all his friends and family clapped.

Taking up the knife that lay nearby, Hermione cut the first slice and placed on the plate in front of Harry. “The birthday boy always gets the first piece, you know.”

Harry immediately dug into the delectable delight with vigor born of a starving man, his eyes bright with happiness that had not shown there in a long time.

****

Soon, everyone had a plate in hand, and the room filled with a cheerful buzz of people, all eating and talking merrily. The wizarding wireless hummed in the background, low in it’s tones to give the room this indescribable feeling.

Hermione, happily standing at Harry’s side as he stood talking to some of his housemates, was entirely too relieved that the party had gone over so successfully. She hadn’t known if any of their housemates would show up, but she should have known better. They all wanted to show their appreciation to Harry for having gotten rid of Umbridge last year, of course. But firstly, they were his friends, and they had all been truly excited to be invited to his first-ever official birthday party.

There was the usual crew of Lavender, Parvati, Ginny, Neville, Dean, Seamus, Alicia Spinnet, Katie Bell, Angelina Johnson, Oliver Wood, and even Luna Lovegood. Every member of the Weasely clan was in attendance, even Percy who had interrupted the conversation so as to apologize profusely to a very amused Harry for his actions and false accusations the year before.

But as she looked about a bit more, Hermione noticed that Ron was not present…

She didn’t have time to get angry, however, for she felt herself being pulled rather forcefully to the other side of the room, by none other than Ginny Weasely. To her horror, waiting for her in a little private corner were Lavender and Parvati, eyeing her as would a predator size up it’s prey, or in their case, and insane gossip-addicts waiting for the newest issue of Witch Weekly.

“Ginny, not so hard! And what’s this all about?” Hermione asked indignantly as they stared at her with a look that made her rather nervous.

“Dish!” they all hissed simultaneously.

“Oh no, absolutely not. I am not falling into your incessant pit of gossip.”

“Oh come on Hermione, stop stalling and give us the details! We already know you two are together, so you might as well tell us and save yourself a lot of time and constant nagging!” cried an overly-excited Lavender.

“There’s nothing to tell, alright? We only just kissed today, and that wasn’t more than half an hour ago! Nothing’s been made official as of yet.”

“You kissed?! Was he good?” asked a squealing Parvati, practically salivating at the idea of getting the inside scoop on Harry Potter‘s kissing prowess.

“Oh for Merlin‘s sake! What business is that of yours?!”

“It may not be any of those two’s business, but after all the talking we’ve done about this, I should hope you would think enough to tell me,” Ginny pushed, a sly smile on her face. It gave her quite the uncanny resemblance to a scheming Gred and Forge.

“Look, I’ll tell you later, alright? Right now it looks as though your dad’s going to make an announcement.

****

Sighing in absolute relief, Hermione plopped down upon her bed tiredly. Finally, the mess from the party had been effectively cleaned and all of Harry's gifts put away in his room at Grimmald Place. It was maddening really, how many gifts he'd actually had on the occasion of his party, not only from the people there, but some from those who couldn't attend.

Looking up at the clock on the mantel above the fireplace, she noticed it was approaching 2am. She groaned, letting her head fall back against her pillows. The party had lasted quite a while it seemed. But then, she doubted would have been any other way, especially after the Weasleys' announcement. She smiled softly at the images the thought brought on.

They had adopted him, The Weasleys', they had actually made him an official part of their family under wizarding law. The papers had been signed, all documents passed... and he finally had a family…

Harry had been ecstatic and overwhelmed at the news that he never would have to return to his horrid relatives. It had been a very emotional moment, for all of them, and could have stretched out into awkward silence if the twins hadn't interceded in their usual irrepressible fashion. They had, of course, set off a bunch of fireworks "to celebrate welcoming a new victim--er, we mean, brother, into the family", as Fred put it. Between Molly's scolding, and everyone ducking and dodging in between laughter, it was a wonderful start to Harry's new life with them.

All had returned to Sirius’s old home for the remainder of that night, and possibly the summer. Even Ron, who they had not spoken or seen since their arrival. Supposedly, he had already gone up to bed, still not well enough to join them in the ‘after-party,’ which had been attended by Remus, Tonks, and even Moody. But of course, Hermione knew better. Not that it mattered much, as Harry now owned Grimmald place due to Sirius’s will and as such, had a room of his own.

After the festivities were finally at an end, Hermione had scolded/persuaded Ginny, the twins, Bill, Charlie, and even Percy into helping clean up while Harry had a private moment with his new parents, and by the time everything was straightened and cleaned to Molly's satisfaction, it was late and they were all pleasantly exhausted.

Earlier that night, knowing Harry as she did, she had kissed him lightly on the cheek and said good night. She figured he would need some time to let the events of the day truly sink in. Only, here she was, at two in the morning, unable to sleep and the reason why was sleeping down the hall.

She had so gotten used to the familiar weight of Bast--Harry-- sleeping curled up next to her, that it was now difficult being alone in the big, empty bed. Huffing a sigh, she determinedly closed her eyes, only to have them pop back open at a creak outside her door. Holding her breath, she watched as the door opened, and a great black panther came strolling in. Her brows shot up, and she gave him a look. "If Molly knew you were in here, she'd skin us both!" She hissed.
Those green eyes just blinked back at her mischievously and the large form morphed into a rather familiar messy-haired fellow Griffendor.

“Relax, Mione,” he said softly as he moved to crawl in bed with her, wrapping his arms around her smaller form as he settled down and pulled her against him. “Mum’s sleeping, and besides, she still doesn’t know anything about my animagus form, remember? Now,” he paused to place a chaste kiss to lips, “sleep,” he bade her, settling back against the pillows.

Hermione rolled her eyes playfully, though her expression was softened considerably just looking into those jade orbs that were becoming heavy with sleep; absolutely adorable.

"Oh, alright, but if she comes in here, this was YOUR idea."

He just snorted and tightened his embrace, effectively trapping her against him in a grip that did not loosen even in sleep; not that she minded.

She instantly felt herself relax at his arms, as if this was where she was always supposed to be. With a sigh that was only half resigned, she ran a hand through his soft hair and was lulled by the low rumble of his contented purr.

All was right in the world once again…

8. Forgiveness, Yet Not Quite Forgetting

A/n: Alright everybody, just to let you know, this chapter is complete crap. I read over it and I wondered what in the world is wrong with me. School is really affecting the development of this fic more-so than I thought in the beginning. So I apologize for the lateness of my updates, but it may be like this until Winter Break. Just please, bare with me, and you’ll see something good come of this.

Chapter 7: Forgiveness, Yet Not Quite Forgetting

Streaks of sunlight penetrated the darkened haze created by the dusty windows, enveloping the room with it's gorgeous brightness. One such lazy creature was, however, not obliged to such cheerfulness.

The lump in the middle of the bed groaned and rolled over, tucking itself deeper into the warmth of the sheets and pillows. Yet even with it's back turned, the sunlight penetrated the closed lids, making it almost impossible to drift back into that glorious land of slumber.

With a sigh followed by a wide yawn, a certain Hermione Granger flicked away her covers and sat up, her legs swinging over the side of the bed, sliding her feet into the slippers below. She emerged from her room and was immediately bombarded with the aroma of fresh coffee brewing, meaning that someone was starting the day even earlier than she, which would be about 6am.

Deciding she'd best wash up before the rest of the household were brought back to the waking world, Hermione headed towards the bathroom. Opening the door, she was instantly enveloped by the steam that came rolling out from a very recently used shower.

Walking in, she was surprised to find Harry standing there... in nothing but a towel. His was hair damp, his eyes bare of glasses, and his face thick with the beginnings of a beard... Great Merlin what a sight he was. Even this early in the morning he looked completely ravishing, not a bit of him to be spared.

Currently, he was standing in front of the sink with a razor in hand--it pleased her to see it was part of the shaving kit she'd bought him for his birthday-- looking at himself in the mirror as if contemplating something.

Much as she would have loved to observe a bit longer, she still needed to shower. And so, she decided to make her presence known. Perhaps she had forgotten that there was really no need for that. For as soon as she opened her mouth to speak, she was interrupted by a pair of warm lips pressing fully against her own, followed closelyby equally warm hands sliding about her waist.

Hermione was, of course, surprised by this sudden action. And were she not being snogged senseless at the moment, she would have realized that Harry had already sensed her before she even appeared in the door way, due to his newly-heightened senses provided by his animagus form. But… she wasn't really paying attention to all that, preoccupied as she was.

Really now, what could she do, other than delight in sliding her hands slowly up her love's nicely developing chest until her arms were around his neck? What could she do but let her fingers tangle themselves in his damp black locks and revel in what was at least a 5 minute snog?

They finally pulled apart after what seemed like a blissful eternity, both breathless and grinning maddeningly, resting their heads together. Oh if only Fred and George could see them now, gagging gestures all around.

"Good morning, Ms. Granger," Harry whispered, getting that feeling he always got when riding his Firebolt, only this time, he couldn't come down even if he wanted to.

"Good morning indeed, Mr. Potter. That was quite a greeting," she spoke just as quietly, not quite ready to break the mood.

"I had to get you out that trance somehow. You were just standing there staring, making me feel all unconscious and completely bare."

"Yes well, you aren't exactly clothed at the moment, Harry. Not that I'm complaining..." came that almost very un-Hermione-like response.

"What were you doing in here anyway? I know you don't normally just stare at yourself in the mirror."

Harry pulled back, though not before planting another kiss to her lips, and returned to the sink. "Promise you won't laugh?"

"Of course not. Now tell me," she said, sidling up behind him.

Instead of answering, he glanced down once more at the razor in his hands, then up at her reflection. A slight blush tinged his cheeks as he met her eyes. "It's... kind of embarrassing."

But not for nothing was Hermione Granger the smartest witch of her generation at Hogwarts. Her eyes were full of compassion and understanding as she smiled softly.

"When I was younger, before I started at Hogwarts, I used to watch my father shave and get ready in the mornings. He was so meticulous, setting everything out... the shaving cream, his razor, and towels." As she spoke, she reached around Harry and set everything in place.

"Some mornings, when he and Mum had a little extra time, he would let her do the shaving for him," she told him, a small, distantly amused smile on her lips as she gathered some shaving cream in her hands, getting a good lather before gently smoothing it over Harry's skin.

“Once she had him good and lathered up, she’d rinse her hands and take his razor," which Hermione did, smiling as Harry watched her all the while, seemingly mesmerized by her actions. "Then, she'd make a start with the underside of his chin. She'd go slowly though, so as not to knick him. Yet, she would be firm so she wouldn't have to go over one spot too many times and give him shaving bumps. They were so adorable, let me tell you," she laughed lightly at the memory, while carefully sliding the razorover Harry's skin.

"When she was done, she'd take a cloth and gently wash his face so it wouldn't get all sticky from the cream, and even go so far as to put on his aftershave for him. And the entire time, he'd be watching her with this look in his eyes. I wasn't quite old enough to be sure what it was at the time, but as I thought about it a little later on, I realized he was and still is completely enamored with her. And I couldn't help thinking how much I wanted that someday.

It was true what they say, one never really notices that which is right under their noses. Harry was, perhaps, experiencing something that followed those lines,. He just stood there, watching Hermione as she wrung out a cloth of hot water and used it to wipe the last vestiges of cream from his now expertly clean-shaven face.

What she had said just then, about wanting what her parents have, it struck a cord in him. It had him wondering if his parents, too, had had such a close and involved relationship. It also made him wonder if it were possible for he and Hermione to achieve such a level of involvement, of total entrancement with one another. He didn't know, as he wasn't one to predict the future, but he did know he sure as hell would like to try.

"Hermione," Harry said softly, not quite calling away her attention from her task.

"Hmm?" she answered distractedly, admiring her handy work. It really was perfect, completely clean of all hair, no bumps, very kissable. She grinned absently at the thought.

"Hermione, I know I didn't ask before things just kind of...well… started between us but... would you… c..consider… I mean... would you be mine?"

Hermione, knowing that despite Harry's seemingly more confident appearance lately, decided it was best not to tease him even though it could prove to be extremely amusing. So instead, she looked adoringly into his eyes, an amused grin on her face. "Of course, Harry, need you even ask me such a thing? I've been yours for a long time now."

A gentle knock on the door interrupted whatever else Harry might have said. "Harry, are you almost done in there?" Ginny called. "The twins got to the other bathroom already---phew! It smells worse than Ron's "lucky" Cannons socks!"

Hermine ducked her head, resting it against Harry's shoulder as she muffled her giggles.

“Er, yeah Gin," Harry called hastily. "I'll be out in a minute, but Mione‘s got dibs on the shower next."

“Bah… your bloody girlfriend best be glad she’s my best friend.”

He waited until her steps faded away before succumbing to laughter. "We’d best get out of here before someone catches us," Hermione said after they had caught their breath. She moved toward the door to hurry and get her shower things, only to turn back as Harry caught her gently by the elbow. She sent him a questioning glance, and was rewarded by that familiar, half-bashful smile. "Thanks, 'Mione."

Gently cupping a hand under his now smooth chin, she pecked him on the cheek and smiled. "Anytime."

****

Breakfast was a cheerfully busy affair, as it always was with the Weasely family. Plates filled with eggs, bacon, toast, and pancakes floated around the table as every member was engaged in some topic of conversation or another.

The twins were off in there own little corner of the table, conspiring over one of their newest creations. Mr. Weasely had eaten a quick breakfast of toast and coffee before he was out the door and off to the Ministry. Surprisingly enough, Bill, Charley, and Percy were all still at the table, talking and even laughing amongst themselves.

Harry, who had been happily eating his pancakes and bacon and watching Hermione as she talked animatedly with Ginny, suddenly stiffened as his sensitive nose picked up a very familiar approaching the dining room. Placing down his fork, he rose from his seat, politely excusing himself from the table; this did not go unnoticed by Hermione.

He stepped out into the hallway and met his elusive best mate just as he cleared the last step.

"Ron,” he said, his voice deep and enigmatic in it's implications just in that one syllable, "Can I talk to you for a moment?"

Ron looked like a deer caught in headlights, frozen by the fear that was evident in his eyes. Well, maybe not fear exactly, but he was nervous beyond belief. He thought maybe he should be angry with Harry. After all, he wasn't blind, deaf, or stupid contrary to what some people believe; well okay, maybe a little stupid sometimes and possibly a little hard-of-hearing but that was beside the point.

The bastard had stolen his one chance at finally having something he did not. And what does he do, just takes it right from under his nose.

Of course, Harry didn’t think they way, Ron thought as he finally got a good look at him. He noticed there were quite a few changes in the Boy-Who-Lived. He seemed to be more confident, more sure of himself and his place in the world. Fuming, Ron could not help but think that Hermione had a lot to do with that, and it didn't help his already broken pride any at all.

He didn't want to think that Harry deserved it, that he should finally have a chance to be happy... he wanted to hold on to the feeling of betrayal, of abandonment. He wanted to be a smarmy git and explode, just because it would make him feel a bit better, a bit more justified in his anger.

Before he could make a move, either toward the other boy or back up the stairs, Harry spoke. "Ron." His voice was quiet, as was his stance, but there was a tautness to him, the intensity of a predator waiting for the right moment to pounce.

Ron didn't like the sensation of being a mouse. He squared his shoulders defensively.

"Harry."

"Look, Ron, we need to talk."

The youngest male Weasley steeled himself for what was coming, trying unsuccessfully to calm his nerves and unbalanced emotions. "Look, Harry, I don't want to talk about it, alright? You won, mate, the best man got the girl. Just leave me out of it"

"Merlin, how much of a prat can you be, Ron... First of all, don’t speak of Hermione as if she were some trophy to be passed between us. She's a woman of her own mind who can damn well speak for herself. And as to her and I being together, I didn't win her over and away from you, alright? You pushed her away all on your own, and I had nothing to do with it contrary to what you may think."

"Oh screw you, Potter! You were my best mate, and now my brother, but what kind of brother goes behind his brother's back and takes away his one chance at having something that's not overshadowed by said brother?! Oh, but I guess that was all just false hopes, wasn’t, Saint Potter!”

“So the entire time you two were dating, you were using her, weren’t you? All that time you just wanted her on your arm like some kind of bloody Christmas tree ornament, all shiney and polished and gaining lots of attention, huh?” Harry had slowly approached him with the sum of his words, closing the distance between them so that they were toe to toe, almost nose to nose. His face had gone completely expressionless, and his eyes danced with a with the fanned flame of righteous anger and pulsing rage, steadily gaining higher levels of ferocity. In other words, Harry was pissed.

He knew he had hit home with those last words, judging from the embarrassed redness taking hold of Ron’s face. It served to do nothing but make him angrier.

He figured that perhaps maybe he should calm down, though. Sure, he was known for his temper, but now that temper was backed up by the instincts of the ferocious predator that was his animagus form; he could do some serious damage if he let himself snap.

Luckily for him, that oh-so-coveted scent of lilies and lilacs began to surround him, and two small hands wound around his right arm, gently pulling him back a few steps.

Ah, Hermione, his anchor to the world; the girl had on-the-spot timing. Even without looking at her, he knew she had been listening to their conversation and had chosen this particular moment to intervene.

“Apologize,” Harry growled.

“What?”

“You heard me, apologize to her. Apologize for all you’ve said and all you’ve done.”

Ron looked back and forth between the two. From Harry, who was completely livid and trying his best to keep a lid on it, to Hermione, whose expression was completely unreadable as she stood steadfastly at Harry’s side. He realized something about them just then, and the very thought of it made his stomach turn.

Looking at the two of them now, side by side, insistent and unwavering when it came to supporting the other, he realized that he never had a chance. As much as Harry preached to him about treating Hermione like an object, he was the one who had been used as some sort of prelude, just someone to occupy Hermione’s time until she got what she truly wanted. Grudgingly did he even think of apologizing, more out of the thought of Harry actually trying to tear his head off than anything else; he didn’t think she deserved even that much.

“I’m sorry, Hermione. I’m sorry for using you before, for accusing you of cheating on me, for everything I said… I’m sorry. I guess you could say I’m the stupidest, most ignorant prat in the world. It’s just that I didn’t like the idea of being the third wheel.”

“Apology accepted. But you should know that we’ll always be your best friends, Ron. Harry and my dating one another isn’t going to change that, right Harry?”

He didn’t say anything for a moment or so. Harry wasn’t exactly sure he wanted to forgive Ron so easily just yet. He wasn’t sure why, or what was holding him back but he decided to remain reserved on the situation. Ron was now his brother after all, but more for Hermione’s sake did he nod his head in affirmative.

Hermione seemed satisfied with this for now. Oh, she knew something was up of course, but she’d just have to confront Harry about it later. “Wonderful. Now come on you two, you need to hurry and eat so we can leave early enough to make the Hogwarts Express.”

Ron needed no further prompting at the mention of food and made a mad dash for the kitchen, though it seemed more out of an excuse to leave the room than his usual ravenous hunger.

Hermione smiled tightly, sighing as she turned back to Harry, whose arms were sliding around her middle. Resting her hands against his chest, her appearance softened slightly as when she caught him staring at her with this peculiar expression on his face.

“What?”

“You are really an extraordinary person, Ms. Granger, did you know that?” A light blush tinted her cheeks, contradicting the validity of her next words.

“So I’ve been told, Mr. Potter, but I’m sure you mean something else.”

“It’s just… you forgave Ron so easily just now. After all he’s said about you, after all he’s said and done to you, you still forgave him. You’re amazing, Hermione, and I’m not just saying that to get a kiss, even though really want one before you go,” Harry said, grinning cheekily.

Hermione’s blush deepened and she was just about to bashfully respond, when she caught onto his last words. “What do you mean before I go? Aren’t you coming with us?”

“Well, I am, in a sense. See, even after all that’s happened, you’re possibly still in a lot of danger since I’m pretty sure old snakepuss knows his plans failed by now. Also, he still doesn’t quite know where I am at the moment, and we, as in myself and the rest of the Order, would like to keep it that way. So, to kill two birds with one stone, I’ll be accompanying you on the train, but as Bast.”

“That makes good sense, I suppose. But, Harry, how're you going to explain this to everyone else? I mean, no one else knows about your animagus form.”

“Well, Mr…er… I mean, Dad knows; he was in on the whole thing along with Remus and Dumbledore. Mum doesn’t know, though, since we elected it best that she not be in on that particular meeting. She’d skin us all alive for even thinking of sending me on a mission for the Order.

“I can only imagine what her reaction will be when she actually does find out about all this going on right under her nose. Anyway, what’s the plan?”

“You’ll see.” Just then, the sound of the front door opening and closing could be heard. Footsteps echoed down the entrance hall and to the living room, revealing none other than Remus Lupin.

“Hello there you two. I see you’re having lovely a morning,” Remus said with a laugh, grinning at the blushing faces of his two former students.

“Yes, thank you prof… um… Remus. I assume you’ve come to ‘pickup’ Harry?”

“Spot-on as always, Hermione, I see you’ve been well informed. I suppose I should step into the kitchen and let your new family know I’m here, Harry, as I’m sure Arthur’s told them about my escorting you to Hogwarts already. Then we can ‘get this show on the road,’ as the Muggles say.”

Remus made his way into the kitchen, steeling himself to brave the unpredictable hurricane that was Molly Weasely.

Moments later did he return, followed by the entire Weasley clan, to find Harry and Hermione where he had left them. The only difference, it seemed, was that Harry’s trunk was by his feet.

“Ready to go Harry?”

He nodded and bent low to kiss his girlfriend, and he hugged his new mother and sister. He received affectionate claps on the back from his brothers as he headed towards the door with Remus, his trunk floating along behind them.

“It’s really too bad you couldn’t go with us, Harry,” Ginny said softly, wishing that she could spend more time with the newest addition to their family.

“It’s alright, Gin. I’d rather go alone knowing Voldemort would probably attack the train if I were up there. At least you guys’ll be in less danger that way. See you at Hogwarts!” he said, waving as he closed the door behind him.

As they the rest made their way back into the house to prepare for departure, however, moments later Remus poked his head through the door once more.

“Hey, Hermione, does this bloke here belong to you?” he asked as a rather large, black feline slunk through the open doorway, making straight for Hermione. “I saw him wandering around outside and thought it best to let him in, lest he attract unwanted attention.”

“Oh! Um… thank you, Remus. I’ll try not to let him out of my sight this time,” Hermione said, quickly getting over her confusion as she realized this was the plan she’d asked Harry about. And quite a clever plan it was, too, simple as it was.

“See to it then. Well, I’m off once again. Be careful, stay safe, and I’ll see you at Hogwarts.” And he was out the door, for good this time.

Hermione waved goodbye, and closed the door behind her, walking back down the entry-way with an abnormally large black panther on her heels.

TBC

9. Hogwarts Abound!

A/n: Hi peoples! Happy New Year to ya! I'm sorry I've been out of commission so long, but school is hell as I'm sure you all know... especially around exam time... and I've been working since I got home for break, so this is my first chance to rest in a while and I thought I'd dish out something quick for you guys. This chapter is only a filler and something to introduce new ideas and new things that will be happening in the next chapters to come... basically I'm going to get back to the actual plot. I'm going to try and get out another chapter this week but I don't know how well that's going to go. Either way, reviews and constructive comments and criticism would be greatly appreciated. Thanx for putting up with me, all of you who still like this fic... and a special thanks to MysticSam for ALL her help.

Happy Reading^^

Chapter 8: Hogwarts Abound!

Ah, yes, King's Cross Station.

It was here, that Hermione Granger stood on platform number 9 3/4 saying goodbye to the Weasley's and her parents, who were given the okay to come and bid their daughter fare-well for another year at Hogwarts.

While looking for a compartment after boarding the train, they happened upon Dean, Seamus, and Neville. They all greeted them with the sincerest of friendly gestures and the expected Quidditch-based conversation for the lads.

It was only Neville who noticed the rather large animal at Hermione's side.

“Er... Hermione... that's some big bloke you've got there. Where'd you get him?” Neville inquired nervously, effectively drawing everyone's attention to the pair standing so casually by the door.

Bast, who had been observing the group before-hand, noticed that the males' eyes, including Ron, were settled on Hermione's slender form. He knew those looks, those not-so-subtly roaming eyes `appreciating' HIS Mione's finer features.

He snarled, loudly growling his displeasure as he fixed them all with a look that spoke the promise of gouged eye-balls and mauled bodies. Of course, the human side of him was well aware that none of them had any idea why he was acting that way, but that didn't matter now that their attention was gathered elsewhere.

His hardened glare was ruined, however, when Hermione began to scratch behind his ears in a soothing manner. 'I swear she knows me too well.'

Hermione smiled to herself as the boys watched her tame the `ferocious beast', who was purring rather loudly at her attentions, fully relaxing under her touch. Oh the fun she would have teasing Harry about this later.

“I apologize boys, he's just a little irritable because he has to stay cooped up in this train for so long. This is Bast, by the way. Professor Dumbledore had me take care of him during the summer.”

Just as Dean was about to inquire as to why the old Headmaster would want her to do such a thing, the train's whistle blew shrilly as one last warning to all lingering passengers on the platform before it pulled off moments later.

“Come on Hermione,” said Ginny, who was rising from her seat next to her brother, “We've got that prefect meeting up front about now.” Wonderful, isn't it? Another Weasely has been added to the long list of Gryffendor prefects. The family had been thrilled upon finding out, but none of them were truly surprised.

Ron, however, had sulked that entire day after the Hogwarts letters came, his being devoid of last year's Prefect badge. Clearly, those at Hogwarts thought him incapable of continuing his duties as a prefect, but he supposed, pitiful as it might sound, that this was one thing he could say that never happened to his brothers; he was the first of them all to get booted from the position. How bloody wonderful...

He watched with thinly veiled disdain as Neville rose as well and followed the girls out of the compartment, joined by Collin Creevey- he was Gryffendor's fifth year prefect along with Ginny--in the hall before they made their way toward the front compartment.

Bast trailed beside Hermione, eager to see what actually went on in a prefect meeting, or rather, for lack of anything else to do. His `enthusiasm' was dashed on the rocks, however, when he heard a sneering voice just behind them, one that he had hoped could be avoided.

“Why, Granger, I'm shocked. First Weasley, and now Longbottom? I dare say that Potter will feel rather left out, don't you think? We all know he deserves a turn more than anyone.”

“Why, Malfoy, is that jealously I hear in your voice?” Hermione asked a bit too sweetly. “Honestly, Draco, I'm flattered but your just not my type. Although, if you're really that much into Gryffendor girls, perhaps there's one who better compliments your... personality,” she said suggestively, stiffling her laughter at the blonde Slytherin and a certain red-head who couldn't seem to keep the heat from rising on their faces.

Before he could stop himself, Bast stepped out and in front of Ginny, growling low and menacingly, not at all liking the way the ferret was looking at his little sister.

Draco began backing up defensively, shaking with trepidation and slight fear as the memory of bared teeth and massive jaws flashed through his mind.

Gathering his wits, he spoke when he felt he could trust his voice. “This is far from over, Granger,” he grumbled as he moved to walk past them.

It was an empty threat, he knew, but one had to say such things for the sake of reputation.

Just as he was walking by them, the over-powering scent of ferret bombarded Bast's nose, causing him to sneeze. Unfortunately for Draco, it wasn't interpreted quite that way, for when the great beast's head jerked forward, it looked for all the world like he was trying to bite the poor lad's leg off. This little mishap caused the blonde jump and shriek-like a girl might I add- and run towards the compartment where all the prefects were settling down for their meeting.

The small group of Gryffendors, who had been standing there, momentarily dumbfounded at what they'd just seen suddenly burst into helpless fits of laughter as they followed the Amazing Bouncing Ferret into the compartment.

*****

Cho Change was considered to be a very popular person. She was, indeed, quite beautiful in that exotic sort of way that captured the attention of all. She was athletic, star seeker and captain of her house Quidditch team, and she was also very intelligent and intuitive as well. And now, she was the new Head Girl for Hogwarts.

You would think that with all this, the pretty Ravenclaw would be content with her lot in life. You'd be wrong in your assumptions, being that there was one thing Ms. Chang felt was missing from her arsenal of popularity. It was the one thing that could truly put her over the top and could quite possibly burn her name into the minds of students at Hogwarts and the wizarding world around for years to come. Or rather, shall we say, one person...

Now, knowing this, it could be gathered that Cho is quite the ambitious person, one who would go to any lengths to obtain what, or whomever it is she so desired, correct? Do you think this perhaps constitutes listening in on the conversation of two supposedly insignificant underclassmen? Well of course!

Ginny Weasely and Luna Lovegood- both prefects for their own houses-came strolling in behind the others, locked in what looked to be a heated conversation about something or other that didn't really matter. Normally, the dark-haired Ravenclaw could care less about such irrelevant things, especially when it had nothing to do with her. But then she heard names, those of the `Golden Trio,' and it almost immediately sparked her attention.

“I'm telling you Luna, now's your chance! Ron's a free bird now, and I think you should make your move. I know this sounds bad, but he's vulnerable right now, and with the right amount of coaxing, he could be yours quicker than you can say Crumple-horned Snorkack. Besides, there's no chance of him and Hermione getting back together, she's with Harry now.”

Cho froze at those unexpected, dreaded words, but continued listening in, trying to get the full story in the hopes that maybe she'd heard wrong.

“How does Ronald feel about this?” Luna asked dreamily, though her concern was evident to anyone who knew her well enough.

“That's what I'd like to know. He seemed fine with it, and he even apologized to Hermione for acting like a total prat over the summer. Somehow though, I get the feeling he wasn't being sincere. But anyway, that's not you problem. What your interested in is getting the stupid git to notice you, though Lord only knows why you would want to.”

Outside the front compartment, Pansy Parkinson smirked and turned away, continuing on her way back to her own compartment. The Dark Lord would be very interested in hearing of this new development. Potter and his precious Mudbood, finally together... even Pansy had seen that one coming. And the look of jealousy and rage on Cho Chang's face when she heard the news... Oh yes. A malicious grin blossomed upon her face as she took her seat across from Millicent Bulstrode. Her Master would be very interested in what she had to report...

*****

The rest of the journey was uneventful, the time passed with games of exploding snap, girl talk, and much sweets to be had from the passing food cart.

When they arrived at Hogwarts that evening, Hermione and Neville split up and went about their duties, one of which was a new safety precaution presented in the prefect meeting on the train. It was only something as simple as making sure the younger students got into their carriages all right while Hagrid took care of the first years, but Hermione figured it must have had something to do with last year's events. Otherwise, she never would have agreed to this bit of babysitting.

The whole process took little more than twenty minutes, however, must to the relief of Hermione who stood watching the last of the carriages strode away, all except the one that awaited her to board. She wasn't alone though, being that there was a rather enormous black kitty standing diligently at her side.

She reached down and rubbed behind his ears. “Alright, love, there isn't anyone left out here save you and I. Shall we have change in or outside the carriage?”

Lazily he opened one emerald eye-both of which he had closed in bliss during her ministrations- and regarded her for a moment before he gave her a good swat on the bum with his tail and trotted off towards the lone prefect carriage.

Hermione rolled her eyes, though smiling the entire time, following along behind. That boy... what was she going to do with him.

Upon arriving at the carriage, she thought at first that it was empty, but looking more closely, she didn't know how she could have missed the tall figure of the one and only Harry Potter. She shook her head and grinned. He was sitting there with this legs crossed, hands folded in his lap and looking for all the world like he was the cat who'd just eaten the canary.

“What're you thinking, Potter?”

That supposedly innocent look melted into a small, mischievous grin, and he held out his hand for her. When her hand was in his, he gently pulled her into the carriage and right onto his lap.

“Just thinking how wonderful it is to finally have you all to myself for once today, Ms. Granger. Nothing out of the ordinary, I assure you,” his grin melted into a warm smile as he pulled her closer to himself, just basking in the feel of being able to do so.

Whatever indignant reply she was going to make about her current position was lost before it could even fully process at the tenderness in his touch and in his voice.

This didn't bode well.

Each and every time she went to scold him or reprimand him from now on, all he had to do was touch her, speak to her in that way where his voice dropped a few octaves and it became this rich, deep, velvety low tenor that could instantly make her toes curl... Well, let us just say that she wouldn't let him know he could do that to her... nothing would ever get done that way.

Yet, before she could open to her mouth to reply at all, it was covered with Harry's and she was swept into a rather magnificent snog session.

Alright, perhaps talking could wait for until they got to the castle.

TBC

1. Prologue: The Future In Erised

2. Difficulty and Indecision

3. Regarding Reflections

4. Death Eaters and Delightful Dining

5. Sulking, Shopping, and Slimy Slytherins

6. Diagon Alley Disaster

7. Happy Birthday Harry!

8. Forgiveness, Yet Not Quite Forgetting

9. Hogwarts Abound!