Return to Me

hermyfic

Rating: R
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 06/09/2004
Last Updated: 05/05/2005
Status: paused

I'm so sorry, my dear readers, for not update for such a long time. I won't abandon this fic but just pause it for now. Hopefully I can start a gain soon.

Chapters

1. Chapter 1

2. Chapter 2

3. Chapter 3

4. Chapter 4

5. Chapter 5

6. Chapter 6

7. Chapter 7

8. Chapter 8

1. Chapter 1

Return to Me

Disclaimer: I do not own anything in Harry Potter world. I mean no harm by using the characters in this fanfic.

A/N: Thanks to Portkey that accept me as an author here. Thanks to my beta Nakhash, who has done a really good job in beta read. And thanks in advance for all of you who read and review!

Chapter 1

It was five years since she had been away from her home. It was five long years but, to her, it felt like it was only yesterday that she had been saying goodbye to her friends at the Portkey station. Now, she was packing her trunk and soon she would be back home and with her friends. She could not wipe away the smile that was stuck on her face as her thoughts drifted to the events of five years ago.

The war was still being fought at the end of their seventh year at Hogwarts, despite the hopes that it would all be finished before the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter, graduated.

The war raged on for six more months until, finally, it was finished with Harry Potter’s throwing of a new spell developed by himself, Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley, at Lord Voldemort, causing his evil soul to die under the power of love and peace, never to rise again.

Things were going rather well with the whole Wizarding world celebrating the downfall of Lord Voldemort and the trio off to seek their futures.

Harry had decided to join in the Auror training like he had told Professor McGonagall in his fifth year. With his success in fighting the Dark Lord, the Ministry of Magic was more than willing to accept him to the training and hired him after he finished. Harry Potter was not willing to take advantage of his celebrity to succeed in his beloved career. He tried his best to prove to the world deserved his position.

Ron, another best friend of hers, had shown some interest in being an Auror as well, but he ended up playing as a professional Keeper for the Chudley Cannons, saying he would be bored working as an Auror without Death Eaters to chase after.

She, Hermione Granger, was the odd number in her group of friends. She had decided she wanted to know more about the Wizarding world so she chose to travel to all the countries that had Wizarding communities.

When she declared her plans, Ron had teased mercilessly that she had found no more books to read in England and that was why she wanted to go seeking other countries’ libraries.

They had had a good time before she left. They drank and talked about past times and future plans. During the Leaving Party, Harry had been mostly silent, which worried Hermione very much. She knew he had a hard time living his life outside Hogwarts, much less being separated from Ron and her, but she could not allow his attachment to continue any longer. He needed to move on with his life. He must move on. If she allowed him to cling to her like she had when they were still at school, Harry would never find himself a place in the Wizarding world. It was not that he was incapable, but rather that he would be forced to live his life in the past and would not have any future. So, she left him to make his own way though she promised herself she would do whatever was in her power to make his life better. But first, he had to learn to fight his own demons.

In five years of traveling, Hermione learned a lot about the Wizarding world and the differences between one community and another. She had learned, not from books like Ron had teased her, but from people in the living world. Now, it was time to go back home. She felt an odd tightening in her chest. ‘How are they doing now? Will things have changed much after five years?’ she kept asking herself nervously, as she packed.

In truth, they had exchanged letters over the past five years, but they were few and far between because she often changed her location and owls weren’t always able to find her. So, the latest information she had on her friends was limited, especially regarding Harry. He had only sent her a piece of parchment wishing her a Happy Birthday every September 19th during the five years. She had tried to owl him a few times but he never replied. At first she had thought he was angry with her for leaving him alone, but he kept sending her the birthday wishes even though the notes were short. It was enough to make her feel a little better and at the same time just enough to make her feel guilty.

Ginny or the ‘Daily Prophet’ brought her most of the information she had concerning Harry. The only time she had heard directly from him was before his wedding day. Much to her surprise, he had called her on the telephone at a local hotel in Africa. She was so excited that she forgot to ask him how he knew she was there. He didn’t speak much on the phone, just saying he wished she could be at his wedding, but of course, she could not. She was busy studying an old tribe and had made an appointment with the local Wizarding research organization to go the next day and observe their living conditions. She wished him the best of luck and happiness in his life. He thanked her and dropped the phone. That night, Hermione found herself unable to sleep and felt disappointed without reason, though she didn’t try to seek it out. She let it slip by in the amount of time she spent in her researching and studying.

‘Will things have changed much?’ she repeated her question again. ‘Yes, it would be different, you stupid girl,’ her brain said crossly to her, but she retorted back, ‘I’m not a stupid girl! I’m 23 years old now, and I know that things will be different, but you don’t know how nervous I am, you idiot!’

Hermione argued with her brain as she finished packing her clothes and books. She turned to the drawer on her writing desk and pulled out a massive photo album setting it down on her bed. She turned to the first page; there it was, the photo of her, Harry and Ron when they were in first year. Harry and Ron were standing close to each other while she was standing behind at Harry’s left side. Well, they were not very close back then. The second page was she and Harry sitting under a tree by the lake as Ron was sleeping, a Transfigurations book under his head.

Hermione turned page after page, looking at the photos and smiling, sometimes laughing, sometime crying as the memories of their adventures at Hogwarts floated in her mind.

She looked at a white page with gold embossed letters, which read: ‘After Hogwarts’, separating the rest of the photos from the first section.

The first photo, of the members of The Order of the Phoenix before the final battle, included Snape. Hermione scanned the photo in amusement; most of them were still alive. Harry had told her about the photo Moody showed him at Grimmauld Place, but it was opposite to the one she had, as many of those members had died in the battle.

The second photo was of the celebration at Hogwarts after the victory. The third was Ron and Luna’s wedding photo they sent her a year after her departure. The couple was smiling and waving at her frantically. Harry and Ginny were their best man and bridesmaid. Hermione smiled; finally Ron had found the right person for his life and settled down happily after dating many witches. He had even tried once with her, while they were at Hogwarts, but things just didn’t work out what with the two of them tearing each others heads off once or twice a day; not a big surprise actually.

Another page was Ginny and Draco’s wedding, a strange and unexpected couple that shocked Wizarding society. When Draco had turned his back on his father and joined the fight for good, he and Ginny started dating. They had struggled to get the approval of Ginny’s parents and a certain over-protective brother to agree with them, and they were now a happy couple. Hermione had nothing to add but to bless them from afar.

A few pages more and there was Ron and Luna with their first child and Draco with a very pregnant Ginny. And there, the two last photos were Harry and Cho Chang’s wedding. Hermione smiled weakly at the photo. She had heard about them from the ‘Daily Prophet’ and from Ginny. The two started dating after Harry began his work at the Ministry of Magic. Coincidently, Cho was also working there as a secretary for the new Minister. So things progressed as Cho tried very hard to catch Harry’s attention by praising his work and showing up every now and then in the Auror’s department, that was what Hermione had heard from Ginny. However, Hermione didn’t care if Cho seduced Harry or Harry seduced Cho, it was his happiness that she cared about. In the photo, Cho was smiling happily but Harry was wearing his usual serous expression. Hermione always shook her head whenever she looked at the photo; Harry was still the same, he still couldn’t bring himself to enjoy the most important event in his life. She hoped Cho was teaching him.

The last photo was of Harry and Cho’s newborn child. From the look in Harry’s eyes, she knew he loved his daughter dearly; the glints of adoration and happiness were shining in them. Hermione was happy for him; he deserved the nice little family he had always yearned for.

She closed the album and wiped a few drops of tears from her eyes. ‘Well, things might change, but at least it changes for the best and whatever had happened, their friendship would always be there,’ thought Hermione, as she put the album in her trunk and closed it.

She stood up, straightened her clothes, and smiling, she told herself she was ready to make the journey home.

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2. Chapter 2

Return to Me

Disclaimer: I do not own anything in Harry Potter world. I mean no harm by using the characters in this fanfic.

A/N: Thanks to Portkey that accept me as an author here. Thanks to my beta Nakhash, who has done a really good job in beta read. And thanks in advance for all of you who read and review!

Chapter 2

Hermione had decided to go to the Burrow first instead of her parents’ house, as they were touring Australia for their

25th anniversary. So, Hermione found herself standing in front of the gate leading to the Burrow, her trunks were shrunk and rested inside her pocket. She took a deep breath before pushing the gate open and passed through. Walking in the garden made her remember the summer before the Quidditch World Cup. She, Harry and the Weasleys had had dinner in the garden. It had really been a wonderful time, watching Crookshanks chasing the Gnomes while the family ate the delicious dinner that Molly had prepared.

Lost in thought, Hermione found herself standing in front of the door to the house. She could feel her shoulders shaking slightly. ‘Do you think Mrs. Weasley or the whole Weasley family is going to bite your head off, Hermione?’ she chided herself, before raising her trembling hand to knock at the door.

Hermione heard the sound of footsteps walking brashly toward the door as Mrs. Weasley’s voice echoed, “Why, Arthur, you are early today, did you forget your key, dear?”

The door swung open, Mrs. Weasley stood still, gaping at Hermione in disbelief, her hand holding on to the doorknob. Suddenly she squealed delightedly, “Hermione! You are back?”

Hermione smiled and nodded, “Yes, I’m back,” she assured her. Mrs. Weasley hugged her tightly as tears streamed from her eyes. Hermione hugged her back feeling so warm and secure.

“I can’t believe it. It’s been such a long time ago since I last saw you,” she said, drying her eyes and holding Hermione by the arms. “Let me see you, dear. Ah, you’re too thin, Hermione. You must have worked too hard, didn’t you?” she asked frowning.

Hermione laughed softly and replied, “No, I work as I used to work here. It’s just that the food wasn’t always to my liking.”

Mrs. Weasley beamed, “You have to stay here a few days, at least a week, all right? I will make you all your favorite foods.”

“I would love too. My parents are not at home so I had hoped to stay here a week or so until they are back,” said Hermione.

“That’s wonderful, dear!” Mrs. Weasley said brightly. The two witches went into the house together.

Hermione settled herself down into a comfortable armchair in the living room while Mrs. Weasley was busy making tea in the kitchen. The elder witch then brought a tray with some tea and biscuits for Hermione.

“Thanks, Mrs. Weasley,” Hermione said as she took a cup of tea and sipped gratefully.

Mrs. Weasley was unable to stop herself from smiling. “Will you stay by yourself a few minutes, Hermione? I’m going to floo Arthur, Percy, Bill, Ron - oh gods! I’m going to let all of them know you’re here right this minute!” she finished excitedly, and twirled herself back to the kitchen without waiting for Hermione to reply. Hermione smiled at her excitement. She sat still sipping her tea and observed the house.

It was still the same old house but there wasn’t the noisiness that accompanied the house whenever she had stayed here before. It was quiet except for the sound of the Ghoul living in the attic and Mrs. Weasley excitedly talking to whomever she had flooed. Hermione couldn’t hear clearly, but it sounded like Mr. Weasley because Mrs. Weasley was saying something like, “don’t go near that Muggle and Apparate right back.” Hermione didn’t have a chance to listen to Mrs. Weasley anymore as the front door swung open revealing a tearful Ginny Weasley – no – Malfoy, standing in the door way. Like a flash the two witches were already crushing one another in a tight embrace.

Hermione drew back first as she felt a bulge pressing on her stomach. She looked at Ginny questioningly, then burst out, “Oh, Ginny! Are you- are you...”

Ginny smiled and nodded, “Yes, I’m expecting again.” She knew what Hermione wanted to ask and answered it right away.

“Wow!” was all Hermione could say.

Ginny dragged Hermione to the table and sat them both down on the chairs opposite each other. Eagerly, she asked Hermione, “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back?”

“I was quite nervous about returning and didn’t think to inform you first,” said Hermione. “Besides, I thought I would be going to my parents for a few days before coming here. They called me the night before I left to tell me they were leaving on a tour of Australia so I changed my plans and came here, instead.”

“So what are your plans?” asked Ginny.

Hermione sighed. She wrapped her fingers around her teacup and replied, “I don’t know for sure yet, Ginny. Maybe I could stay here a for a week or so until my parents come back, or I could look for a rental in Diagon Alley or somewhere I could work in peace.”

Ginny frowned and inquired quizzically, “What do you mean by ‘work in peace?’”

Hermione laughed at the look on Ginny face. “What are you thinking, Ginny? I’m not going to bury myself in the ground or anything like that. I just want to write about my experiences during the last five years and publish the book for the benefit of other researchers, that’s all.” Hermione sipped her tea after finishing her tirade.

Ginny was staring at Hermione strangely, as if she had grown a second head, but before she could say anything, Mrs. Weasley appeared at the kitchen door and said to Ginny critically, “Ginny, there you are. Draco said you didn’t even wait for him and Apparated here. You do know it’s dangerous for a pregnant woman to Apparate alone?” Then she turned to Hermione, ignoring the abashed Ginny, and said softly, “Hermione dear, Arthur and the others will be here in an hour. You might like to take some time and freshen up before dinner, dear, how does that sound?”

“That sounds lovely, Mrs. Weasley,” answered Hermione.

Ginny’s face lit up, “You can use my room, Hermione. Come on, I want to talk to you.” She stood up pulling Hermione by the arm and rushing to the stairs.

Mrs. Weasley bellowed, “Be careful Ginny! You are pregnant remember!” But Ginny ignored her telling Hermione, “She’s always like that.”

“But I think she is right. You should be more careful,” said Hermione.

Ginny laughed mistily and waved her hand at Hermione as the two of them reached her room on the third landing. “This is not my first child, you know, Hermione,” she said, sitting down on the bed. Hermione nodded her head accepting the other woman was right, well, who was she to know? She didn’t even have a child herself. This thought made her heart ached with loneliness. Ginny broke the silence, “Hermione, don’t you think of settling down and having your own family?” asked Ginny seriously.

Hermione pulled her shrunken trunk from her pocket and waved her wand over it, restoring it to normal size, before she answered Ginny absentmindedly. “I don’t know, besides I think I’m still too young.”

“Too young!” the red head squeaked in disbelief. Hermione, arched one eyebrow as if to say, ‘what’s wrong with the idea?’ Ginny walked up to stand in front of Hermione and put both her hands on her bulging stomach, defiantly. She said, “Look at me, Hermione. I’m younger than you. Look at Ron, Luna, Harry, are you saying we were stupid to get married this young?”

“No, of course not,” said Hermione, feeling uneasy at her friend’s outburst, “I’m just- eh- you… no one asked me to marry and I have a lot of work to do.”

Ginny took a deep breath and sat down again on the bed facing Hermione. “If that’s the problem, why don’t you date?” She held her hand up stopping Hermione from protesting, “And don’t tell me no one has asked you out in the last five years, Hermione.”

She was saved from answering by the sound of footsteps coming to the door. She smiled and grabbed her bathrobe. “I think they have arrived. I’d better take my bath now, if you will excuse me.”

“Fine by me, Hermione Granger. I’ll let you go, but next time, no excuses.” Ginny turned to the door. Hermione felt the urge to cluck her tongue at Ginny but refrained, thinking it was too childish for both of them now.

Filling the tub with hot water, she let her muscles relax. It had been a long journey back. After fifteen minutes, Hermione heard more footsteps and more noise coming from downstairs. She hurriedly finished her bath and came out of the bathroom after drying herself the Muggle way with a soft white towel. She pulled out a pair of jeans and a white T-shirt with purple letters, which read, ‘I like Rock ‘n’ Roll!’ She used a drying spell to dry her hair and pulled it into an upswept ponytail. Looking at herself in the mirror, she wondered if they would remember her before making her way below.

Back down in the living room, a fluffy, yellow ball of Crookshanks greeted her by nuzzling her leg. She brought him to her chest and hugged him tightly.

“Hello boy, how are you doing?” asked Hermione. Crookshanks made a mewing sound as if to answer her question and licked her on the nose. Hermione chuckled, “I missed you too.” She carried him to the kitchen where everyone was sitting around a scrubbed wooden table. Mr. Weasley was sitting near the fireplace, next to him at the left were Bill and his wife Fleur and to the right was Penelope, Percy’s wife, but he was no where to be seen. Luna was chatting animatedly with Fleur and Penelope while her husband, Ron, was arguing with the twins and Draco. Charlie was absent, of course he would be, she had just met up with him in Romania a few months ago still fascinated with dragons.

Hermione took a few steps more and clearing her throat to announce her presence. Their heads snapped back to see her. Ron looked as if was going to jump at her, but decided to retain some dignity and walked up to her instead. He had matured a lot, Hermione thought. They hugged each other tightly then Hermione greeted everyone with a hug and a kiss. She settled down in a chair between Ron and Fred. Everyone started pouring questions on her until Mrs. Weasley came around with the cutlery and Ginny brought butterbeers along with the food. Parents called out to their children and they started eating dinner happily. Mrs. Weasley kept complaining about Percy working too hard and being unable to join in a rare occasion of family reunion in honor of Hermione.

They talked on various topics but no one seemed to want to talk about Harry at all. She had wondered why Harry and Cho were not present, but she thought maybe Mrs. Weasley forgot to call them or that they were busy. However, when she started pointedly asking questions about Harry and Cho, everyone returned the talk to weather, or asked if she would like to visit their home, or if she thought their children looked most like them or their spouses. Finally Hermione could take it no longer. She dragged Ginny out of the house into the garden.

“Tell me what’s happened with Harry?” asked Hermione, a bit harshly, but she didn’t care. She had had enough of all of them ignoring her questions. Ginny sighed and took a seat on a stone bench under a tree, looking straight into the blackness. Hermione examined the younger witch closely. She looked sad; her red hair a bit longer now, glistered under the moonlight. Suddenly Hermione was struck with the realization that over the last five years Ginny had grown up a lot. She was a mother of two children, well not yet, but soon. She seemed to be weighing her thoughts carefully before speaking. Hermione felt ashamed for being harsh with her earlier. She sat beside Ginny and covered Ginny’s hands with her own and asked again softly, “Has anything bad happened to Harry?”

Ginny tore her gaze from the black space and looked Hermione in the eyes, her own damp with small drops of tears. She spoke slowly, “You haven’t read ‘The Daily Prophet’ for the last three months, have you?”

Hermione shock her head, “No, it wasn’t delivered in Russia.”

Ginny laughed mirthlessly, “No wonder you don’t have a clue.”

“That is why I want you to tell me. Harry is my best friend, I want to know if he’s doing all right.” Hermione was becoming frustrated now that she sensed something was really wrong with Harry.

“You know Harry and Cho got married three years ago, right?”

Hermione nodded again, she said somewhat dumbly, “You told me and-” She didn’t want to tell Ginny that Harry had phoned her the night before his wedding, “what’s happened now?”

Ginny was staring at Hermione suspiciously, but knowing Hermione; she knew not to push the subject any further. So she answered instead, “Their married life was not a happy one. After Cho gave birth to Agnes everything seemed to become even worse. Cho was seeing someone else and Harry always stuck with his work and Agnes. This only made Cho even angrier.” Ginny took a deep breath before she continued, “First I thought Cho was only trying to gain attention from Harry, but Merlin knows what she was really up to. She completely turned her back on their marriage and walked away from Harry to live with her new lover.”

Hermione felt a strange feeling rustling in her veins, how can she do that to Harry? Doesn’t she know how much Harry loves her?

“The ‘Daily Prophet’ claimed that Cho ran away with a Rock Star because Harry Potter doesn’t know how to please a woman.” Ginny shock her head, Hermione looked puzzled. “It’s part of the reason, Hermione. You’ve been gone too long to know how Harry has changed. The ‘Daily Prophet’ had only assumed from looking at their life, but I once witnessed the two of them quarrelling. Before Cho ran away, I went to see Harry and I heard the two of them talking. Cho accused Harry of having an affair with another woman and that was why he didn’t care about her. She said she had had enough of him ignoring her and that now she would have someone who at least appreciated her beauty and cared about her.”

“How could she said such a thing about Harry?” said Hermione, her anger flaring. “I don’t believe Harry would do such thing.”

“I don’t believe that Harry would have an affair either,” answered Ginny, “but I wouldn’t dare guarantee his feelings.”

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked, narrowing her eyes.

Ginny, though looking uncomfortable answered truthfully, “What I mean is whether Harry was in love with Cho when they get married.” Hermione was about to say something but Ginny cut her down, “Look, if you saw the way Harry treated Cho, you would think just as I do now, Hermione.”

“But why did he marry her if he wasn’t in love with her? And gods! They have a child together,” said Hermione, barely believing what she had just heard. Things could change terribly in five years.

“I don’t know. You should ask Harry if you want to know, but believe me, he won’t give you any answers easily. Ron and I have tried to persuade him to tell us but he just ignores us completely.” Ginny stood up, “I think we better go into the house now, Joey may be asleep already.”

Ginny walked back to the house but Hermione stood there a bit longer, wondering if she could find rest in her sleep tonight, before following the younger witch inside.

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Review please!

3. Chapter 3

Return to Me

Disclaimer: I do not own anything in Harry Potter world. I mean no harm by using the characters in this fanfic.

A/N: Thanks to Portkey that accept me as an author here. Thanks to my beta Nakhash, who has done a really good job in beta read.

Harry&Hermione4ever: Harry does have his kid with him. Izabel: You don’t understand why Harry & Cho break up? Nor does Hermione, but she won’t find out until nearly the end *evil grin*.

Shawnpickett: You are right. As stubborn as Harry do you think he will give in that easily?

Thanks to all of you who read and review! You just make me want to write more and more!

Chapter 3

As predicted, Hermione could not find rest in her sleep nor even manage to fall asleep at all. After everyone left she went to her room, changed, and now she was lying on her bed staring at the ceiling. She tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable spot. Every time she closed her eyes, Ginny’s sad face appeared before her and her thoughts drifted to Harry. ‘How could he handle such a terrible thing?’ Hermione thought bitterly.

The bed felt hard and lumpy despite its thick mattress. Hermione rose and started pacing the room. ‘I want to talk to him now. What should I do?’ she asked herself. ‘You are not going to invade his home at this time of night, are you?’ her voice of reason said mockingly. ‘No, it’s too late for a visit now.’ She tried to find a reason to keep her mind from wanting to Apparate straight to Harry’s house.

Hermione turned to a small window at the right side of the room. She could see the moon was rising in the middle of the sky and was slowly moving itself to the west, which meant it was already past midnight. Hermione took a long, deep sigh, then she turned swiftly to grab her cloak and Apparated.

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Hermione was standing in front of a house residing near the outskirts of London. The house was medium-sized and old-fashioned with a wonderful garden in the front. It looked just like an eighteenth century Muggle-style house. Hermione had never been there before. When she had left, Harry was staying with Moody, and before that, he stayed at Grimmauld Place. After Sirius died, Grimmauld Place had officially become Harry’s, but while he was still at Hogwarts, the Order of the Phoenix had continued to use it as their headquarters until the downfall of the Dark Lord. At that time the Order had released it back to Harry and he had moved in for a while.

The house was dark and quiet. There were wards protecting the house, preventing her from Apparating inside. She draped her cloak around her more tightly as the cold, night wind blew through the silent darkness. She pulled her wand out of her pocket and set to work breaking the wards. They were the same ones she and Harry use to put on her parents’ house, doubled on Dumbledore’s wards, to prevent Apparation. They were simple yet very effective. She walked along the garden path and opened the front door using “Alohomora” spell. She then found herself in the middle of a room. From the light of the small sconces hanging on the wall, she could see it was the main hall of the house. There were two doors for both sides of the hall and a stone staircase opposite to the main entrance.

Hermione was wondering which way to go when suddenly there was a pop and a little creature with huge, green eyes and a long nose appeared before her. It was wearing an odd sharp hat and fluffy socks, which she recognized as ones of her own handiwork from a long time ago. The creature was a house-elf. Looking closer she realized it was Dobby. No other house-elf would wear clothes. Hermione smiled happily and said, “Hello Dobby.”

The elf looked up at Hermione with confusion, then its eyes lit up and it jumped and squeaked excitedly, “Oh Miss Hermione! Dobby is happy to see Miss Hermione!”

“I’m happy too, Dobby.” She took a step closer to the elf and asked, “Dobby, where is Harry? I really miss him and want to meet him.”

Dobby stopped jumping and looked toward the stairs before meeting Hermione’s gaze. He answered hesitantly, “Harry Potter is sleeping now. Can Miss Hermione come back tomorrow?”

Hermione looked closely at the house-elf. She had a feeling that Dobby was sad when talking about Harry. This only made Hermione more worried. She thought for a moment, and then smiled and said reassuringly, “I just want to see him. I won’t wake him up, Dobby. Please show me his room.”

The house-elf stood still; its enormous eyes looked back to the staircase and then to Hermione’s pleading eyes. After a sort pause, it inclined its head and said, “Alright, please Miss follows Dobby.”

Hermione smiled and thanked Dobby. She followed him up the stairs and then turned to the right side of the corridor where it led to an oak door with a huge golden doorknob. They stopped in front of the door and Dobby looked up at Hermione. “Harry Potter is in his office, Miss Hermione,” said the elf. “Dobby will leave Miss to deal with Harry Potter alone.” Dobby turned to leave but then turned back to Hermione and said, “Harry Potter is not well but he will be happy to see Miss.”

Hermione smiled faintly as the house-elf vanished. She was feeling a bit nervous but tried to collect herself. She pushed against the door and was surprised to find it was unlocked. She stole a glance around the room before walking fully inside.

The sight of Harry Potter’s form lying on the desk greeted her. Even in sleep, his face wore a frown and his eyes were scrunched tightly behind his glasses. Hermione felt tears start to form in her eyes as she looked closely at him. He looked so vulnerable, so young. His black hair, as messy as ever, was a bit longer, sticking up in the front and revealing his scar. Hermione walked up slowly to him. Her hand carefully smoothed his hair and brushed softly along his cheek. Unexpectedly, Harry’s hand caught hers; his eyes fluttered open.

They stared at each other for a moment; then Harry loosened his grip on Hermione’s wrist. He asked, sounding somewhat dazed, “Are you real?”

Hermione let out a breath that she didn’t remember holding. She smiled at Harry and said, “I’m real, Harry, I’m back.”

Before she even finished her sentence, Hermione was being crushed in a bone-breaking embrace. She hugged him back with equal fervor. She could not control her tears any longer and she sobbed into his chest, feeling all the loneliness and distress run out of her body.

It felt like an eternity before Harry pulled back. He looked embarrassed and shocked at the same time. He mumbled, “Sorry”, and avoided her eyes. Hermione shook her head and brushed the last drops of tears from her eyes.

“Harry, I missed you.” His head snapped back and he looked into her eyes. Hermione saw sadness lingering in the emerald depths behind his round spectacles. Her heart ached as she reached out, her hand touching his face lightly. She whispered again, “I missed you.” He leaned into her touch and, without knowing how, he was sobbing into her shoulder. Hermione patted his back comfortingly. ‘The past five years would have been very tough for him,’ thought Hermione.

Harry had cried himself to sleep, his head resting on Hermione’s lap. She looked at his face and smiled sadly. He looked so peaceful when sleeping. Hermione vowed to herself that she would do everything possible to give him the happiness he deserved. She kissed him on the forehead and soon she too, drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

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Review please...

4. Chapter 4

Return to Me

Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own anything in Harry Potter World. JKR owns them.

A/N: A giant thank to my beta, Nakhash, she’s wonderful!

Victoria Tonks: I know that part is a bit ooc but like a bottle of wine that have been shake too long when you let out the stopper, you know what happen. In this case, Harry is like a bottle of wine :) and you see in this chapter he thought Hermione was a dream.

Tabitoo: *Evil grin*

Finally, many many thanks to you all, my dear readers and reviewers! Without you all I won’t have the strength to continue.

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Hermione shifted slightly as the sunlight filtered through the window and touched her face. She blinked and then opened her eyes, startled by her surroundings. She felt a weight on her lap; she looked down, seeing Harry’s sleeping form before her. It was his head that weighed down upon her. She smiled softly and tried to move without waking him up, but as she started moving her legs, his eyes fluttered open. He blinked rapidly and his hands searched for his glasses.

Hermione chuckled as she pulled a pair of glasses from the desk above her head and placed them on Harry’s eyes. He focused on her; Hermione could see he was confused. Then the realization dawned on him. He smiled at her and said, “It wasn’t a dream.”

It was merely a statement but Hermione nodded and said, “No, it’s not.”

Harry pulled himself up to sit next to her. He looked uneasy. Hermione cleared her throat, breaking the awkward silence. “Erm... Harry, how are you?”

Harry seemed to relax a bit at her question; he smiled faintly at her and answered, “I’m fine. How about you, ‘Mione?” As he asked, he stood up and stretched his muscles.

Hermione smiled fondly. “I’m fine too and I’m happy to be back home.” She was still sitting on the floor; her legs straight out just like last night.

Harry looked around the room and blushed slightly, “I’m sorry Mione. I haven’t been a very good host. You shouldn’t have had to see this mess.”

“Oh, really? But I’m used to such messes now that I’ve had two of the messiest boys in the world as friends for the last twelve years,” Hermione snorted, amusement in her tone.

They both laughed. ‘It’s good to see him that happy again,’ thought Hermione.

“Do you want to have breakfast with me?” asked Harry.

Hermione nodded and then frowned as she tried to move her legs; they were so numb.

Harry looked puzzled for a moment before he realized what was wrong and hurriedly helped her to her feet but her numb legs wouldn’t support her weight. If Harry hadn’t caught her in time she would surely have hit the floor. Harry helped her to an armchair and sat her down. He kneeled in front of her and started massaging her legs.

Hermione blushed deep red and tried to stop him. “Harry, it’s ok. Let me rest a little and

I’ll be all right.”

But Harry didn’t stop and said without looking at her, “It’s my fault that your legs became this numb. I shouldn’t have fallen asleep on you last night.”

Her breath caught as his hand touched the hollow of her leg and her body tensed even as she tried to relax. Harry seemed not to notice and she was grateful, otherwise they would find themselves in another awkward situation. She mentally cursed herself for reacting in such a shameful way to her best friend. After a while, her legs regained their feeling. She thanked Harry. They both stood up, facing each other.

Harry offered, “Do you want to take a bath before breakfast?”

“Good idea,” Hermione responded, “but I have to go to the Burrow because all my things are there and - oh!” Hermione squeaked, “I didn’t tell Mrs. Weasley that I was coming here last night. She’ll be worried sick by now.” She turned to Harry, “Listen, you take your shower and prepare everything. I’ll be back in time for breakfast, ok?”

Harry grinned and nodded mutely. She smiled and turned to leave but Harry grabbed her arm and said, “I’m glad you’re back, Hermione.”

She smiled and made her way out of the room.

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Once she was out of Harry’s house, Hermione Apparated directly to the Burrow where she found Mrs. Weasley pacing the room and Mr. Weasley sitting calmly at the table with his hands folded under his chin, watching his frustrated wife.

“Arthur, do something! This is Hermione, why aren’t you doing anything?” Hermione heard Mrs. Weasley growl at Mr. Weasley.

She opened the door and revealed herself. Mrs. Weasley stopped pacing and raced up to her.

“Are you all right? Where have you been, dear?” she asked. “I was so worried when I didn’t find you in your room this morning.”

“I’m fine,” said Hermione, smiling guiltily. “I’m sorry I worried you. I was just so anxious to see Harry that I left without telling you. I wasn’t thinking; I’m so sorry, Mrs. Weasley.”

Mrs. Weasley let out a sigh of relief then pursed her lips; her brows knitted in thought, though she didn’t say anything.

Hermione couldn’t tell what Mrs. Weasley was feeling, whether it was disapproval with her behavior or the mention of Harry that was the cause of her distraction.

“Ah, I told you Molly, dear, Hermione is not a child she knows what she is doing and she is back. Now, may I have my coffee?” said Mr. Weasley cheerfully. However, Hermione thought it was forced rather than natural. Mrs. Weasley glared at her husband and stomped out of the living room. He turned to Hermione and smiled, “How is Harry anyway?”

“Erm- he...” Hermione stammered. How could she possibly explain to Mr. Weasley that they had fallen asleep on each other without even having a conversation?

As if sensing her unease, Mr. Weasley smiled and said, “I hope he is all right. I haven’t seen him much lately.”

‘How could this be possible? Weren’t the two of them working in the Ministry together?’ Hermione thought to herself.

Before she could voice any of her thoughts, Mrs. Weasley returned with a tray of coffee and some egg and bacon sandwiches. Hermione could tell by the look on her face that she was none too pleased but didn’t know why. As she neared the table and put the tray down forcefully she spit out, “He is not all right, Arthur. Not since he married that- that evil woman.”

She broke into tears while Arthur hurriedly hugged her and made her sit next to him. “There, there Molly, everything will be fine,” he said, as he patted her back.

Molly sobbed into her husband’s shoulder and mumbled, “Poor Harry. He deserves a better life.”

Hermione watched the couple, lost in her own thoughts. She needed to talk to Harry urgently. Hermione made her excuses and went to her room. She took a bath and changed her outfit from the evening before to a fresh pair of jeans and a loose blue shirt.

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Within the hour, Hermione found herself in front of Harry’s house again. This time she didn’t need to take the wards down as Harry had already reset them to recognize her. Dobby escorted her to the living room where Harry was waiting. He too was dressed Muggle-style: a pair of shabby old jeans and a short sleeved, white cotton t-shirt. Hermione smiled and took her seat opposite to Harry’s.

“When I first came in I thought I would be greeted by an old gentleman dressed in formal robes but here I got a slob instead,” she teased.

Harry grinned at her and answered back, “I thought you liked me better this way, right?”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Hermione said, observing Harry. He looked far better than yesterday. His face wore an expression of joy, though his brow still had the lines from being creased with worry for too long. His green eyes had the hint of a twinkle, which reminded Hermione of the younger Harry when he was happy or excited. His shoulders were broader and his form was no longer that of the skinny boy with knobby knees she had known from school but the form of a man who had been through hard physical training. Hermione looked up and their eyes locked; she realized he too had been observing her. The knowledge caused her to blush slightly. She turned away, confused by her own feelings.

Dobby reappeared bringing their breakfast then disappeared again without waiting for Hermione to thank him. They ate and talked; mostly Harry asked her about her work and her studies. Hermione told him all about her adventures, her colleges, and the different ways of life in the Wizarding World. Harry listened to her carefully, Hermione noticed, unlike when they were at school and she was trying to explain to him and Ron some interesting fact she had found in “Hogwarts: A History”.

They finished their breakfast; Hermione was about to ask Harry the questions she had been holding back when Harry held up his hand and shook his head. He said sadly, “Please, Hermione, I know what you want to ask, but I’m not ready to talk about it yet.”

“It’s not good for you to bury it in your heart, Harry,” said Hermione sympathetically. “It’s bad enough that such a thing happened but to keep it locked in your mind is even worse.”

“How do you know I keep it locked in my mind?” Harry joked mirthlessly.

Hermione rolled her eyes, “Don’t play innocent with me. I know how you always take things upon yourself.”

Harry turned his face away but not quickly enough for Hermione to miss seeing the sorrow that suddenly appeared in the emerald pools behind his glasses.

Hermione reached out to cover his hand with hers. “Don’t worry, things will get better soon,” she said, squeezing his hand reassuringly. “Take the time you need, just remember, if you want an ear, I’ll be here for you.”

Harry looked back and met Hermione’s warm smile. “Thank you,” said Harry, with a little smile of his own.

“No problem, you’re my best friend,” Hermione replied. “Where’s Agnes? Can I meet her?”

“Sure! She’s probably driving Dobby crazy by now,” Harry said brightly.

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“She stays with Dobby most of the time,” Harry explained, as the two of them walked up to Agnes’ room, located at the left side of the stone staircase near Harry’s bedroom. “She likes to demand things from Dobby and he, in turn, seems ecstatic to do everything she says. I don’t have much time look after her,” he added, after a pause.

“Why don’t you move your office near her room?” asked Hermione. “It would make things easier.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea, Hermione; I usually throw things when I’m stressed. I don’t think Agnes would like that much,” said Harry thoughtfully.

“You do?” asked Hermione, both amazed and worried. “Are you telling me you’ve taken up that bad habit now?”

“Oh Hermione, there’s nothing wrong with that, right? As long as I’m throwing things and not people,” said Harry, chuckling softly. But Hermione didn’t seem to find any humor in his joke.

They stood in front of the nursery door and before even entering they heard the sound of rustling and Dobby’s high-pitched voice. “Oh, Miss Agnes! Dobby is searching! Please don’t miss cry!”

Harry opened the door and walked in. Agnes was crying at the top of her lungs; her curly black hair was flying everywhere. Dobby was fussing over a trunk, searching for something. Harry hurriedly went to the side of her bed. He picked her up and she quieted down.

Hermione observed the room first. It was smaller than Harry’s office, of course, but it was full of baby playthings, both magical and Muggle. She then took a step closer to Agnes; the baby had hazel eyes, just like Harry’s father, and curly black hair. She was clinging to her father’s neck but soon started crying again.

Dobby squeaked, “Oh Miss! Dobby is sorry Miss. He can’t find her doll and makes her cry. He should be punishing himself.” Then he hit himself on the head.

Hermione stopped him and said, “I don’t think she wants her doll, Dobby.” She turned to Harry, “Let me see her.”

Harry handed his child to Hermione who held her tenderly, rocking back and forth. “What do you feed her?” Hermione asked, without taking her eyes off the child in her arms.

Harry looked puzzled but Dobby squealed then vanished for a minute before coming back with a bottle of milk. He handed it to Hermione who took it appreciatively and started feeding Agnes humming softly to the child. The child closed her eyes and soon felt asleep still sucking her bottle. Hermione didn’t let go of the child she held so closely but continued gazing down at the sweet little face, smiling to herself, oblivious to the pair of eyes watching her with a mixture of admiration and adoration.

@@@

When she was sure Agnes was asleep, she pulled the bottle out of her little mouth and put her back to bed, careful not to wake her up again. She kissed the tiny forehead and turned to find Harry looking at her strangely. She cocked an eyebrow at him questioningly, “Well? Don’t you kiss your baby goodnight?”

“It’s not night, Hermione,” Harry protested.

“No it’s not, but she can sleep whenever she wants and, as her father, you should kiss her so she’ll have good dreams,” said Hermione, in her best lecturing tone.

“Oh, well all right,” he said, then walked up to Agnes’ sleeping form and kissed her on the forehead with a whispered, “Sweet dreams love.”

The two friends left the room, closing the door behind them. Harry looked at Hermione; she was beaming. He said, “If I didn’t know better I would think you’re a mother already, Hermione.”

“I used to baby-sit for my neighbor during summers when they took a week or so on holiday and now it proves to be useful, doesn’t it?” she said, smiling brightly.

“Yes, thank you, Hermione,” Harry replied.

“You’re welcome.” She paused, and then said seriously, “You know, Harry, raising a child means not only feeding her and giving what she wants but also giving her what she needs.

That’s love. I know you love her, Harry,” Hermione quickly added, as she saw Harry’s eyes burning brightly, “but do you know how to express your love to her? Do you know how to love her?”

Harry stood quietly. His face wore the sad expression she saw the night before. Hermione stepped closer to him and put both her hands on his cheeks, forcing him to look her in the eyes. “Don’t be discouraged, Harry; no one is born with knowledge, just try to learn. I know you can do it, Harry. I know it.”

He took a deep breath and said, “I’ll try.”

“As long as you do.” She smiled. “Do you want to show me the house?”

“Yes, I do.” A slight smile crossed his face and he offered his hand; she took it and they went out to the garden. They walked side by side, quietly enjoying the gentle morning breeze and the comfortable feelings they had for each other.

5. Chapter 5

Return to Me

Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I do not own anything in Harry Potter World. JKR owns them.

A/N: A giant thank to my beta, Nakhash, she's wonderful! Thanks to you all, dear readers and reviewers!

Wytil: This is not a rewrite work. There might be some similar stories out there but I've never read one :)

My first title for this story was Come Back to Me but before I posted it I saw there is one story by that title so I changed it to Return to Me which has a similar meaning but God! There's still have another one with the same title and it's too late for I've posted it already :)

MrsDanielRadcliffe: You are so close… ;)

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Hermione had spent a lovely day with Harry and Agnes. The two old friends reminisced about their time at Hogwarts and played with the child. Agnes was such a lovely little girl, and smart for her age. Hermione loved the way she babbled incoherently; the way she crawled and pulled herself up to stand on her chubby legs. Her smile captured Hermione's heart. She even loved the way Agnes pulled her bushy hair and yanked at her earlobes. She couldn't believe how much she loved someone she had only known for one day. But it was true; she felt so close to Agnes that she could understand what the girl wanted just by looking into her lovely hazel eyes or listening to her unintelligible words. Hermione thought it was because she knew her father so well it made it possible for her to get close to the girl in such a short time.

Harry, on the other hand, seemed afraid of playing with Agnes. The last time Agnes had tried to crawl on him he had turned red and gingerly, but tenderly, pushed her off him and carried her to her bed. Hermione had told him that Agnes just wanted to get to know her father and he should play with her more often so he would understand her better. He agreed to try, saying he didn't want Agnes to grow up thinking he was some heartless monster. Even though he sounded playful, Hermione knew he was worried.

Harry might be a very good friend who would willingly give up his own pleasure for those he cared about but he wasn't exposed to much love in the home where he grew up; if you could call the indulgence of his Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon toward Dudley love. To Harry it seemed they spoiled their son rather than loved him. Harry had never felt the kind of love a child receives from his parents. His mother and father had died when he was so young, he barely could remember the feeling of them hugging him or receiving kisses from them. It was no wonder he didn't know how to love his own child. Hermione decided to she would help him with that.

As night approached, Hermione sat looking down at Agnes's sleeping form. She had just fed her a bottle of milk Dobby had brought her and the girl had fallen asleep, peacefully, on her lap. She brushed back a stray black lock from the sleeping child's eyes; she stirred but didn't wake up. Hermione's lips curled into a smile.

“She must be very tired today,” said Harry, watching Hermione and Agnes. “Dobby told me she fought taking a nap this afternoon and only did so after driving him nearly mad.”

Hermione's smile broadened. She looked at Harry and said, “Yes, she played a lot today. Babies are like that; they love to play and it's good for them.” Her smile then turned into a Cheshire cat grin.

Harry narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “What is it, Hermione?”

“Oh...it's just that it's time for daddy to put his little girl to bed,” answered Hermione, smiling smugly.

“You can't be serious, Hermione,” said Harry, slightly panicked.

Hermione would have laughed aloud if not for fear of waking Agnes.

“I don't know how to tuck a baby in bed; besides, I might wake her up, Hermione,” Harry tried to explain as quietly as he could.

Hermione chuckled softly. “Oh Harry, I only asked you to tuck your baby to sleep, is it that hard?”

Harry mumbled something under his breath that sounded like Death Eaters and Voldemort.

Hermione inched closer to him carefully, so as not to wake Agnes. Her gaze bore into the depths of his green eyes as she whispered, “Harry, you want to be a good father for Agnes, right? You need to learn to do the little things.”

Harry sighed. “Alright, but you have to come with me. I'm not sure if I can manage or not.”

“Yes, Daddy,” said Hermione, cheerfully ignoring Harry's glare.

She gracefully handed Agnes to Harry. He took her in his arms gingerly as Agnes stirred. They walked to the nursery. Harry put Agnes to bed and covered her with a soft blanket. He lightly kissed her on the top of her head, afraid to wake her. Hermione smiled to herself. He was still awkwardly around her but soon he would become the best father, she knew it. She also kissed Agnes goodnight, then the two of them retreated back to the living room.

They sat on a sofa next to each other in front of the fireplace, quietly drinking tea. Hermione glanced at her watch and saw it was already 10 PM. Putting her cup down, she said with a little smile, “I've got to go now. I don't want Mrs. Weasley to get worried again.”

Harry looked disappointed but asked, “Will you come tomorrow?”

“Of course,” she replied, then asked, “don't you have to work tomorrow?”

“Yeah, right!” said Harry, slapping his forehead, “but Agnes could use some company.”

“It's a good thing you realize that,” said Hermione sarcastically. “You don't want her turning into a house-elf, do you?”

Harry grinned and shook his head. “No, but I guess you would seeing as you're so fond of house-elves you set up that P.E.W thing.”

Hermione turned slightly red remembering her efforts to free the house-elves in her fourth year. She spat, “It's S.P.E.W, and yes I like them and want them to be free. That doesn't mean I want Agnes to be one.”

“Oh well, no need to get angry Little-Miss-Perfect,” said Harry, grinning as his eyes twinkled back at her.

Hermione couldn't help smiling. Harry looked at her expectantly. She raised an eyebrow.

“So I guess I have no choice?”

Harry shrugged and shook his head.

“Ok, I will,” she said with a sigh; covering her face with her hands and bursting into a fit of laughter. Soon, they were both giggling madly.

After a few minutes the laughter suddenly stopped and their eyes locked. They stared at each other, motionless. Their faces were just inches from one another. Hermione could feel his warm breath on her skin. She saw something in his eyes she had never seen before and couldn't quite put into words. She only knew that her stomach had felt an odd jolt at the sight of it and she had become strangely nervous.

Abruptly, Hermione tore her eyes from his and looked away. She could tell without bothering to look in the mirror that her face was as red as Ron's hair, if not redder. She somehow felt embarrassed. Without looking at him, she said in a small voice, “I should be going now.”

She heard Harry take a deep breath, then heard him answer, “Yes, you must be exhausted; besides it's getting really late now. I'll see you out.”

Hermione wanted to tell him she wasn't tired; that she was happy to be with him and Agnes this way, but she was too flustered to even look at him, so she kept her mouth shut and stared at her feet as a few minutes of awkward silence passed. They stood up and walked out of the house quietly. Hermione still couldn't look him in the eyes when she said good-bye and Apparated away.

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Hermione walked dazedly into the Burrow. There was a light in the living room; maybe Mrs. Weasley was still waiting up for her. But, to her surprise, it was Ginny who was hunched over the table sleeping, snoring soundly.

Hermione walked up to her friend. She squeezed her lightly on her shoulder, “Ginny… Ginny?” she whispered.

Ginny stirred and her eyes opened slowly. Hermione took a seat next to the other woman. Ginny rubbed her eyes furiously before focusing them on Hermione.

“Finally, you're back. I was beginning to think you were going to sleep at Harry's house tonight,” said Ginny, yawning widely.

Hermione knew she was joking but she couldn't help thinking back to the moment, no more than fifteen minutes ago, and felt her face grow hot. She hoped Ginny didn't notice. Luckily for her, the redheaded witch seemed oblivious of Hermione's reaction to the remark.

Trying very hard to conceal her embarrassment, Hermione asked Ginny, “What are you doing in here at this time of night?”

“Whew!” Ginny stretched her muscles luxuriously, “I'm waiting for you, Hermione,” she answered as she turned and looked at Hermione's surprised face.

“Waiting for me?” repeated Hermione. “At this time of night? What was so important? Are you ok, Ginny?” asked Hermione, concerned.

“I'm absolutely fine, Hermione,” said Ginny, waving her hand dismissively. She continued when she saw Hermione was still frowning. “It's Harry. You know, it's all about Harry.”

“Oh, I see…” Hermione said, and trailed off, feeling her face grow hot again. She mentally chastised herself for acting so immature.

“Ron and I,” continued Ginny, as if hadn't heard Hermione, “we're thinking about having a talk with Harry. Since you're here, we feel we won't have to worry so much if he gets mad.”

“What do you mean?” asked Hermione incredulously.

“Oh you know!” Exclaimed Ginny impatiently. “From the day Cho left him until now, Harry has cut himself off from us all. Every time we try to talk to him about his life he says we're meddling in things and he won't speak to us for days afterwards. Sometimes he even shouts at us.”

“Why didn't you tell me any of this, before?” inquired Hermione, a little upset with her friends.

“How could we? You just got back two days ago and you've spent most of your time with Harry,” Ginny answered defensively.

“If you wanted, you could have told me in one of the letters you sent,” Hermione retorted.

“Well, Harry threatened us not to tell you anything in our letters,” Ginny stated simply.

“Harry threatened you?” said Hermione, looking at her friend as Ginny stifled a yawn and rubbed her eyes rapidly.

“Yes, he did. He said he would know if we told you anything and he would never talk to us again for the rest of his life,” Ginny told Hermione.

“That was childish,” Hermione commented.

“Yes, it was childish,” Ginny agreed. “You don't know how childish he has become over the last five years Hermione, and that's one of the reasons we want to talk to him.” The redheaded witch let out a breath as if relieved that Hermione had finally got the point.

Hermione thought for a while, then she asked Ginny, “How do you talk to him? And what about?”

“We want to know what happened between him and Cho and why she left. We don't believe the rubbish the Daily Prophet brought out and wanted him to tell us the truth so that we could find a way to help him,” she finished, catching her breath.

Hermione gazed at the flames in the fireplace, lost in thought.

“Well?” prompted Ginny.

Hermione sighed, “You're quite right about that, Ginny, only Harry won't answer any of your questions, with or without me present.”

“How do you know?” asked Ginny, annoyed.

“Because I already asked him and he wouldn't say a word,” Hermione said, examining her hands and sighing once more.

Ginny dropped her face in disappointment. They both sat quietly for few minutes before Hermione broke the silence. “Anyway, I think every one, especially you and Ron, should go over to see him more often.”

“How do you know we don't?” Ginny asked, raising her eyebrow and folding her hands over her belly. “We do our best to get him out of his stupid solitude but it was he who tried his best to push us away.”

`Stupid solitude?' Hermione thought to herself, amazed at the description as she remembered Harry's laughing face.

“What is so amusing, Hermione?”

Ginny's voice snapped Hermione out of her thoughts. She hadn't realized she had been smiling. She shook her head to clear her mind. `It must be the lack of sleep,' she thought, as she answered Ginny.

“Nothing.”

Ginny narrowed her eyes, “No? Were you daydreaming?”

“I do not daydream, Ginny; it's night, don't you see?” Hermione joked, grinning sheepishly.

“Oh well!” said Ginny, throwing up her hands. “Siding with him, are you?”

Hermione shrugged. “It has nothing to do with taking sides. We're his friends; we want to help him to have a better life, right?”

Ginny, as stubborn as she was, nodded in agreement.

Hermione continued, “Then that's it. Tomorrow evening, we will meet at Harry's house, tell Ron and everyone, will you?”

Ginny nodded. “We'll try to talk to him?” said Ginny enthusiastically.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “I guess all pregnant women react this way?”

“Oh! Hermione, just tell!” demanded Ginny.

“No, we won't ask force him to tell us anything he doesn't want.”

Ginny pushed out her lower lip liked a spoiled child not having the chocolate she wanted.

Hermione chuckled inwardly. “We'll have a friendly reunion and a happy evening together, and please tell Ron not to blurt out any stupid questions; we don't want Harry to shove us out of his house.”

“As if invading his house is any better,” Ginny snorted. “I still remember the last time I went to his house without warning.”

“I can imagine,” Hermione chuckled aloud. “Don't worry, I'll tell him in the morning to expect a visit later.”

“Morning?” Ginny looked at Hermione suspiciously. “You're going to his house tomorrow morning?”

“Yes, I promised him,” said Hermione, trying very hard to sound casual. “Well, I think you'd better go home to bed now. You might not want to sleep but the baby inside you needs his rest.” Hermione looked pointedly at Ginny's belly.

Ginny smirked, “You're wrong. They're a boy and a girl.” She grinned mischievously at Hermione's wide eyes.

“Well, goodnight,” Ginny bid her good-bye. Throwing a handful of Floo powder into the fireplace, she disappeared.

When Hermione recovered from her shock, she shook her head and went to her room. She readied herself for bed still thinking about the evening's events. `What should I do when I meet him in the morning?' she asked herself, as she lay on her bed, eyes still wide open. `Well, act normal, like you always do. It shouldn't be a problem,' said the voice of reason in her head. She sighed and tucked the covers over her head, hoping against hoped that Harry would act in the usual way.

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Review…?

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6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Disclaimer: You know they’re not mine. Everything is JKR’s.

A/N: Sorry that it took so long for this chapter but I hope you find it’s worth to wait :)

Big thanks to Nakhash, my wonderful beta, and many many thanks to you all readers and your wonderful reviews!

No reply for review in this chapter. I’m doing the last minute job in posting it, but I assure you I have read all your reviews (more than once :)), maybe in the next chapter. Now please R/R!

***

Hermione Apparated to Harry’s house the next morning. Feeling a little nervous, she opened the gate and walked in.

“Morning, ‘Mione!” Harry called out.

She looked up and saw that Harry was standing at the front door. He was wearing his black Auror’s robe and smiling at her. She smiled back and said quickly, “Morning Harry. Did you sleep well?”

As soon as the question left her lips, Hermione regretted it; the look on Harry’s face told her he was reminded of yesterday evening, even it was only for a brief moment.

“Oh, it was all right. In fact, I’ve never slept that well.” He gave her a small smile. Hermione was relieved, knowing it was sincere. “Come in, Hermione. It’s rather cold outside.”

She smiled and followed him inside.

“Have you had breakfast, ‘Mione?” Harry asked, once they were in the living room.

“No,” Hermione answered. “Are you going to work, now?” she asked him, taking her cloak off.

“Not for another hour,” replied Harry. “Will you join me in breakfast?”

“Sure!” answered Hermione brightly.

Harry smiled and said, “Come on then, let’s go to the dining room.”

***

“Please, sit down,” said Harry as he pulled out a chair for her, “and let me hang your cloak for you.”

“Thank you,” said Hermione, handing him her dark red-gold cloak and sitting down.

He took it and smiled. “You’re welcome. I’ll let Dobby know you’ll be joining me. He was cleaning last I saw him,” he added as an afterthought as he walked out of the room, leaving Hermione alone at the table. She busied herself with the hem of the tablecloth waiting for Harry to return.

A few minutes later, Harry entered the room carrying a large tray with coffee, a pitcher of pumpkin juice, some toast, butter, and two plates of fried eggs and chips. He put the tray down, seating himself opposite her.

“I hope you still like it,” he said, handing her the pumpkin juice.

“Oh! How I missed it, Harry,” Hermione exclaimed. She took the glass and sipped delightedly. “Hmm... I feel like I’m home, again,” She sighed, and closed her eyes savoring the feeling of the sweet liquid flowing down her throat. Opening her eyes, she saw Harry was watching her. She blushed a little, embarrassed. “You know, I haven’t had this for so long.”

His lips curled into a smile and he interrupted, “I understand, Hermione, and I’m glad you still like it.”

Hermione smiled. The two best friends started eating their breakfast, peacefully.

“Is Agnes awake, yet?” asked Hermione, wiping her mouth with a white napkin.

“No,” Harry replied, shoving another piece of egg into his mouth. “She was still sleeping when you came, but don’t worry, if she wakes up Dobby will take care of her.”

Hermione frowned. “You should at least see her before you go to work, Harry,” she commented.

“I do, but she’s always sleeping when I leave,” Harry sighed. “She’s my child, Hermione, I love her but I also have to work. You know that, don’t you?” He looked into her eyes as if it would help in explaining things to her more clearly.

“I’m sorry. I was just thinking it would be nice if you two spent more time together,” she said ruefully.

“Don’t be, Hermione, I know you want to help and I really appreciate it,” he said softly and smiled, drawing a small smile from her.

“I think it’s time, now,” said Harry finishing off his coffee. “Do you want to stay here till this evening or do you have other plans?” Harry asked.

“No, I don’t have anything to do other then spend time with Agnes today,” Hermione responded immediately.

“Thank you, ‘Mione,” said Harry appreciatively.

“My pleasure,” Hermione beamed. “Oh, Harry, I’ve got something to ask you,” she said quickly, as Harry stood up.

“What is it, ‘Mione?” inquired Harry, turning to her. She began shifting in her seat, uncomfortably, making Harry nervous. He walked around the table to her side and urged, “Tell me, ‘Mione, is something wrong?”

“No, no, nothing at all,” she stammered, chewing her bottom lip before continuing. “I’ve arranged a friendly reunion here this evening at five,” she blurted out briskly yet quietly, almost liked a whisper.

It took Harry quite a few moments to register what she had just said. When he finally made the connection he screamed, “What have you done?”

Hermione flinching noticeably and Harry instantly calmed himself. She let out a deep breath and said, locking her eyes with his, “Look, I’m sorry that I’ve, technically, used your house without your permission; I have no intention of hurting you or meddling in your life. I just think it’s a good idea for friends to get together sometimes; especially for you, Harry.” She kept her eyes on him, a single tear threatening to fall.

Harry sighed, a long, low sigh. He took a step closer to her and brushed away the tear. “I know, Hermione; I understand. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t yell at you.”

She threw her arms around his neck; laying her head on his chest, she broke into sobs. Harry wrapped his arms around her and gently stroked her back. He whispered reassuringly, “It’s all right, Hermione. I’m not angry with you.”

“So you agree?” she asked between the sobs.

Harry sighed once more, “OK, you win.”

Hermione stopped crying. She untangled herself from his arms and took a step back to see if he was serious, then she squeaked; her eyes gleamed with unshed tears but she was beaming as she suddenly kissed him on the cheek. Harry was stunned. He touched the spot on his check while Hermione, who seemed overly excited, clapped her hands and kept saying, “I knew you would understand, Harry.”

Hermione finally calmed down. She glanced at her watch. “Gods! Harry, you’re late!” she gasped.

He was pulled roughly out of his thoughts by Hermione’s words.

“Oh, well, goodbye, ‘Mione.” He hurriedly walked to the door.

“Wait!” Hermione called out and ran to Harry’s chair. Pulling his black cloak from the armrest, she hurried back to Harry, who was standing in the doorway, smiling.

“Here, it’s cold outside,” said Hermione, tossing the cloak into his hands.

“Thanks, ‘Mione,” he said, wrapping the cloak around him.

“You’re welcome.” Hermione smiled shyly. “Bye!”

“Bye!” said Harry, and he walked out of the house before Apparating to the Ministry of Magic.

***

After Harry left, Hermione went to Agnes's room. The girl was still sleeping peacefully. Hermione smiled and leaned forward to kiss her tiny forehead, then left the room to find Dobby. She found him in the kitchen fussing over two steaming cauldrons.

“Hello, Dobby,” Hermione called out from behind the house-elf. “What are you doing?” she asked, craning her neck to see into the cauldrons.

Dobby wheeled around and smiled. “Good morning Miss,” the elf greeted Hermione. “Dobby is cooking dinner for Harry Potter,” he answered, and went back to stirring the cauldrons again.

Hermione laughed. “Oh! Dobby, it’s only nine o’clock in the morning and you’re cooking dinner?” asked Hermione, giggling.

“Dobby knows Miss would thinks he is crazy,” said Dobby with a little note of hurt, “but Dobby has a lot of works to do.” He again turned to his cauldrons.

“No, Dobby, I don’t,” said Hermione quickly. “I’m sorry.” She narrowed her eyes and frowned, “Is it because of Agnes?” she inquired.

Dobby’s eyes widened. He squealed, “Oh Miss! Please don’t be angry with little Miss Agnes. Dobby volunteers to help Harry Potter, himself, Miss.”

“No, I’m not angry with Agnes, don’t worry,” she answered absentmindedly. Her brows creased together as she thought.

“Eh... Miss is wanting something?” Dobby’s voice broke into Hermione’s thoughts.

“Oh... yes, I wanted to tell you that there will be a small party here this evening,” she told him.

Dobby looked somewhat bewildered at the news; maybe it was because of the word ‘party.’ Who would think Harry Potter would give a party? Hermione smirked internally, then turned to the confused house-elf. She explained, “It was my idea to invite some of our old friends from school to have a little reunion.”

Dobby looked pleases.

Hermione continued, “I hope you can provide us with some food and drink, maybe something that reminds us of Hogwarts?” She grinned as Dobby’s eyes widened with excitement.

“Of course, Miss! Dobby is doing his best,” he promised with a beam.

“Thank you very much, Dobby,” said Hermione, “and don’t worry about Agnes, I’ll take care of her.”

“Thank you, Miss Hermione,” he said, bowing his head.

***

Hermione left the kitchen and retired to the nursery where she waited for Agnes to wake up. It wasn’t long before the little girl started to stir. Hermione gave her a bath and dressed her. The entire day was spent with Agnes; she fed her, played with her, took her for a walk, and even read her some of the books in Harry’s library, which were mostly about Defense Against the Dark Arts and Quidditch. She found a Quidditch book with lively color photos to show Agnes. The girl seemed fascinated with the game and kept groping the golden Snitch zooming around the page. ‘Like father, like daughter,’ thought Hermione, smiling fondly.

In the evening, Hermione took Agnes to her room for a nap. The girl sleepily protested but once she was lying in her crib with a bottle, she quickly drifted off to sleep. Hermione made good use of the time to prepare for the party.

It was late fall. The weather had started to freeze a bit with occasional snow flurries. Hermione decided to arrange the table in the garden despite the cold temperature. She didn’t know how many people Ginny had invited but better safe than sorry. Hermione conjured a long, wooded table and a dozen chairs and placed them in the middle of the well-cut lawn, near the rose bushes. Then she cast a warming charm around the space. ‘Hmm...this is one the best things of being a witch,’ Hermione mused slyly. She conjured a light blue tablecloth and a white china vase, which she placed on the table. She then transfigured a tree branch into a pair of clippers and cut some roses for the vase. She stood still, eyeing the decoration she had just made, and tapped her finger against her bottom lip, trying to think what else to add. A few seconds passed; her eyes glinted with excitement. She pointed her wand at the area above the table and whispered something under her breath; suddenly, dozens of white candles floated in midair lighting up the darkening sky.

Hermione stepped back a few meters to admire the sight in front of her. The candles reminded her of Hogwarts’ Great Hall and everything in the garden reminded her of the dinner in the garden at the Burrow on that long ago summer, though the images still danced vividly in her memory. She let out a deep breath; she was a little tired as she had used a lot of her energy on the various spells. But, she was happy at the results and looking forward to the reunion. She glanced at her watch; it was 5:45 PM. Hermione hadn’t told Ginny the exact time of the so-called party, though she figured they would be arriving soon, so Hermione went back inside to get herself ready. She wanted to freshen up before the evening and decided to take a quick shower in the guest bathroom but first, had to check on Dobby and Agnes.

***

Twenty minutes later, Hermione was ready. She preformed a cleaning spell on her clothes before getting dressed and went back to the main hall. She met Harry at the entrance. He was just back from work; still in the robes he wore that morning and looking miserable. Hermione’s heart leapt a bit, with worry. She moved to stand in front of him, searching his face.

“Is something wrong, Harry?” she asked anxiously.

“No, I’m fine, ‘Mione,” Harry answered, forcing a smile on his face.

Hermione narrowed her eyes. “You better tell me, Harry Potter,” she said in a threatening tone, “I know when something isn’t right; something is bothering you.”

Harry’s face turned a little red and his eyes glittering dangerously. Hermione knew he was angry with her for always being right. It had been that way for years’ since they were still at Hogwarts. Even the five years apart hadn’t affected the knowledge she had about him. Well, not much, she still thought there was something he was keeping from her and she, for one, couldn’t figure it out. Hermione shook herself from her speculations and focused on the matter at hand; Harry. She looked at him expectantly, ignoring the angry look on his face.

Harry sighed and ran his fingers through his unruly, black hair. “I was just feeling a little nervous, that’s all,” he said shortly and stood still as if to wait for Hermione to laugh at him.

She merely smiled and patted his upper arm encouragingly. “It’s all right, Harry,” said Hermione. Then she heard a sound coming from outside the house.

“It sounds like someone crashed a broom on the ground. Let’s go and see,” Hermione said, grinning.

Harry grinned back and the two of them walked out to greet their guests.

***

“Aaarrrgh!!! Get off me!” came the scream from outside.

Harry and Hermione rushed to see what had happened. They glanced around but the sky was dark gray now and it was difficult to see anything. Hermione spotted something moving in the flower bushes.

“Look, Harry!” exclaimed Hermione, pointing at the tattered flower bush.

“Get your legs off of me, Fred!” George’s voice bellowed.

“You’re sitting on the broom; I can’t move!” Fred yelled back.

Hermione and Harry dashed off to where the sound was coming from.

“Lumos!” Hermione muttered, and a small light beamed from the tip of her wand, revealing two redheads entwined with something that looked like a broomstick but was twice as large and longer.

“Fred, George! Are you okay?” asked Harry, helping them disengage from the broom.

“Okay, mate,” said George, brushing himself off.

“Ow! He sat on my stomach,” Fred grumbled, clutching his middle. “It’s your fault,” he said accusingly, “I said to light your wand but you didn’t.”

“I couldn’t reach my wand!” George argued. “You flew too fast.”

“Oh, do stop, you two!” Hermione yelled.

“Harry! Hermione!” someone called from the front entrance. The twins stopped arguing as another redhead with a dirty blonde, dreamy-looking Luna walked in.

“Hey, don’t tell me you two are arguing again,” Ron smirked, then turned to Harry. “Hi, Harry! Haven’t seen you for ages, mate!” As they hugged, Hermione could see the two grown men were on the brink of tears; she smiled.

“Let’s move to a proper place, all of you,” announced Hermione, in her best Head Girl voice. “Where’s Ginny and Draco?”

“Here!” came Ginny’s voice from behind them. They turned to face a very annoyed witch striding toward them and a platinum blond wizard jogging behind trying to keep up.

“Ginny, wait!, you’re walking too fast!” Draco called out to his wife.

“It’s your fault we’re late!” Ginny retorted angrily.

“Look, I just want her to be safe and she’s mad at me because of it,” Draco told them, once he had caught his breath.

“Well, Draco, she is pregnant; you should indulge her a little more,” Luna chipped in.

“But- but-” he stuttered; Harry cut him off. “Let’s get to dinner, shall we? Hermione says she has a surprise.”

Hermione grinned and led the way to the back garden where she had set up the dining table.

“Wow! Hermione!” Ginny and Luna said in awe.

“Hermione! I can’t believe such a bookworm as you was able to set up such a romantic environment,” said Draco.

Hermione turned to face him, putting both her hands on her hips. “And what am I suppose to say about that? Is that a compliment or an insult?” she asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Fred and George broke into a fit of laugher. “Draco, you’re so unlucky, today,” Fred commented with a grin, “what have you done?”

But before Draco could answer Ron whined, “Hey! When will you all stop arguing? I’m starving.”

They all laughed and sat down, food appeared out of nowhere. It was Dobby’s idea to serve the food this way when Hermione went to check on him earlier. He would be with Agnes right now. They started eating the delicious food. Everything resembled Hogwarts except the drink - Fire Whiskey.

They were in the middle of dinner when Neville Longbottom showed up. “Sorry,” he muttered in embarrassment, “the students get loose and I had to sort things out.”

“Never mind,” Said Harry, smiling, “I’m glad you were able to join us.”

“Hey, you didn’t tell me you invited him,” Hermione told Ginny.

“You never asked; besides, he said he wasn’t sure if

he could make it,” replied Ginny, shrugging and turning

to Draco.

“Pass me another sausage, please.”

Draco complied but reminded Ginny, “It’s your third sausage

now, dear.”

“That’s right, ‘Mione,” Neville chimed in.

“Well, how are you, Neville?” Hermione asked, while

Ginny was pouting that Draco thought she was getting

fat and ugly and Draco was trying to tell her it wasn’t

true.

“I’m fine,” answered Neville, serving himself a piece

of Yorkshire pudding. “Teaching is fine.”

“He’s as ‘fine’ as prey in a lion’s clutches, only Snape is a snake,” said Fred, laughing.

“Severus is not really bad once you get to know him,” Neville told them.

The twins roared with laugher. “Severus! Oh Severus?” said George, wiping his eyes, “that greasy git is good?”

Neville ignored him, turning to Hermione. “What are you doing, ‘Mione?”

The twins stopped laughing and turned to talk with Harry and Ron about their newly invented broom. Hermione answered Neville truthfully. “I don’t know yet, Neville.”

“You know, Professor Binns finally decided to retire…” Neville started, but was interrupted by the sound of Ron spitting Fire Whiskey.

“He what?” Ron stuttered as everyone turned to look at Neville.

“Professor Binns decided to retire,” Neville repeated.

The twins, Ron, Draco, and even Harry howled with laugher. Ginny and Luna giggled madly. Hermione gave them all disgusted looks and glared at Harry. He grinned at her guiltily.

“I- I think History of Magic will be- will be less ‘dreamy’ without him.” Ron managed to gasp out.

Luna hit him on the head. “Are you saying that dreamy is boring?” asked Luna sharply.

“No- not at all love,” Ron said quickly and gave his wife a kiss on the lips, drawing a cough from the twins.

“So, who’s teaching, now?” asked Harry.

“Professor Dumbledore,” Neville replied, smiling, “but he keeps complaining that his back aches from standing too long and he’s always tripping on his robes in class.” They laughed as Neville continued. “If you’re looking for a job, Hermione, I can inform Professor Dumbledore.”

“Hmm...that is interesting,” said Hermione, thinking, “but teaching a lot of kids will not leave me much free time.”

“Tsk, tsk, this is the first time I’ve heard you need free time, ‘Mione,” said Ron, mockingly.

Hermione glared at him. “For your information, Ronald Weasley, I need time to write a book about my research.”

“Oh, you want to be an author?” asked Neville.

“Yeah, she does,” said Ginny, answering Neville’s question. “She wants to find a place to write in peace.”

Hermione glared at her but she merely snickered in turn.

“Hey, why don’t you stay with Harry?” Draco blurted out and all heads turned to look at him. “Eh- well?” he asked uncertainly.

“Well, that’s a great idea!” Fred exclaimed, patting Draco’s shoulder.

“Yeah, that would be wonderful, Harry!” George chimed in. “Hermione can have a place to work and she can help care for Agnes.” Every one nodded in agreement. Harry looked from one to another then looked at Hermione.

Hermione could see the unasked question in his eyes. She shrugged as if to say, ‘they do have good points,’ though she didn’t say anything. There was a silence; finally Hermione spoke, “Well it sounds good; if you don’t mind, Harry.”

Harry let out a deep breath. “I don’t, Hermione,” he said, somewhat desperately, “but I’m afraid that you’ll think I’m taking advantage of your staying by having you look after Agnes.”

“Silly,” said Hermione, smiling, “I won’t think that; besides, I’ll have my own place. It’s fair.” She grinned and Harry smiled.

“Deal!” said Fred and George. Everyone smiled as they raised their glasses to toast the decision, “Cheers!”

They ate and talked until late into the night. Around one o’clock, everyone started to bid their good-byes. Soon, only Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Luna were left.

“Harry, I’m glad we’re back to normal,” said Ron, as they walked to the front entrance.

“I’m sorry. I’ve been behaving stupidly for so long, Ron.” Harry said sadly.

“No, no sorry, mate,” said Ron, “only promise me that we’ll be friends forever, can you do that?”

The two men shook hands and hugged each other. “Yes, we’re friends.”

Harry and Ron parted. Ron turned to hug Hermione. “I’m very, very glad you’re back, Hermione.”

“You said that already, Ron,” said Hermione playfully, as she hugged him back.

“I know, but I just wanted to remind you.” He grinned. “Thank you for today, Harry, Hermione.”

“And thanks for coming, too.” Hermione hugged Luna.

“Night, Harry, Hermione,” said Luna sleepily.

Ron hugged Hermione and Harry one last time before taking Luna into his arms and Apparating away.

“Want to help me clear away your garden?” asked Hermione.

“It’s late now, Hermione, you should go home. I can do that alone,” said Harry worriedly. “You must be very tired after all you’ve done.”

“No, I’m not.” Hermione didn’t let him speak anymore; she ran to the garden and Harry followed.

“Did I tell you how wonderful this was, Hermione?” asked Harry, when he caught up with her, standing under the candlelight.

“No, but I knew you liked it, didn’t you?” Hermione replied, fixing her gaze on his face.

“Yes, I liked it,” Harry whispered breathlessly. They were so close now that their noses brushed softly against each other. Unlike the other day, Hermione didn’t pull away when their lips came closer and closer, finally touching in a soft, sweet kiss.

***

Hermione couldn’t recall how she got back to the Burrow. All she knew was that her heart was beating like crazy and her lips tasted oddly sweet. She took a shower and changed from her robes into a nightdress, then went to sleep, still completely dazed.

***

Review...?

7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Disclaimer: *sigh* Not in a million year that HP would be mine so don't sue me. All belong to JKR.

A/N: I'm so sorry that it takes me so long to update. It's because of my current situation and I just want it to be good for you all that I kept writing and rewriting so many times.

My thanks to my wonderful beta, Nakhash, she beta read this chapter and is great as always. Thanks to all of you who patiently wait for me **hugs**.

Here are some answers I have promised:

Plum Blossoms: The answer is in the first few chapters but I will tell you now - he is Draco.

Coolone007 and Lady Starlight: Great observation! Hermione does try and so does Harry. Coolone, if there is anyone could do, it's Hermione, remember her 3rd year? :-)

MrsDanielRadcliffe and Athena Hermione Riddle: Some action, huh? Here is some; there would be more to come in time, just keep reading.

tabitoo and Eleanna: I too like slow progression :-)

Shellbell18: *Gasp* Phew! It's close...

izzieq: There are so many questions, right? Well, the answers should be in the next, next chapters.

Austenlover: You would be clarified after you read this chapter.

Okay, it's getting too long for A/N now. On to the chapter, cheer!

***

Hermione spent most of her time in the next few days preparing for moving in with Harry. There was nothing much to do, but she refused to meet Harry just yet. It was as if she were preparing her mind rather than preparing her belongings. She had never been so confused before. Admittedly, she was a little thrilled at the thought of her and Harry being more than friends, but at the same time an alarm bell was ringing in her head as if to tell her that what she was thinking was dangerous.

Hermione sighed heavily. Sitting on her bed, she toyed with her Modern Art of Potions' Brewing book, unable to put it in the waiting suitcase because, if she finished her packing, there would be nothing more to distract her. She sighed once more. It was no use avoiding the topic. Hermione let her mind wander onto the current situation, which she dared not speculate on too deeply, before.

Do you really want to deepen your relationship? What if Harry doesn't feel the same? And what are you feeling? Do you love Harry? Yes, I do, Hermione practically answered herself, but another question appeared, Are you in love with him? Hermione frowned and was silent for a moment. As of now, she had no answer for that question. It was true that she loved Harry and cared for him, but was she in love with him?

She thought back to her past love life. Her first date was Viktor Krum, who was more or less a friend rather than a boyfriend. Her feelings for him were nothing more than a sort of pride that, while she was clearly a bookworm with frizzy hair and buckteeth, he, an international Quidditch star, had asked her out. She was flattered, to say the least. However, when he went back to his country, even though they had communicated by owl her feelings for him had never developed. He remained her friend, her pen pal.

After Viktor, there came Ron, sweet Ronald. Hermione smiled at the memories. It started in the summer of their sixth year at Hogwarts. They had tried to pursue a relationship and dated a few times during that year. It was the most outrageous experience she ever had in her tiny love life. If they weren't quarrelling or biting one another's heads off, they were too polite: Ron pulled a chair out for Hermione; Hermione sat next to Ron, trying very hard not to make snide comments over his eating habits; Ron held the door open for Hermione, but the worst part was the conversations they shared. One of them would just say: Oh yeah? Really? Uh-huh... That was when they were trying to avoid arguing. It was not long before they were both tired of the charade and their new developing relationship was ended by silent agreement, which both of them gratefully accepted.

Their seventh year had been so busy and stressful that she had no time for a relationship with anyone. They were all caught up with N.E.W.Ts and the war. But when the war ended and they had graduated, she had gone away, seeking her life. In truth, she had dated a few times throughout the last five years, but not a single relationship survived more than a few months. That was either her fault or her ever constant moving about, though she suspected the first. She remembered there had been a man whom she had thought was her mate; still, it turned out otherwise in the end. They were still friends, but she somehow felt guilty for what she had done to him. Hermione shook her head; sometimes it was easier to understand other people's minds than your own.

Now there came Harry. They were friends for so long but had never once tried to develop the relationship they had into something more. Unlike with Ron, Hermione was comfortable with Harry. She was able to discus problems with him, and they had worked successfully with each other on many occasions. She cared for him, loved him, and wanted the best for him, and she knew he felt the same way about her. What she didn't know was his and her heart's desire. Does he love me more than a best female friend? Do I love him more than a best male friend? Hermione sighed once more. There were too many questions, and she didn't know the answers, worse, she didn't dare to find the answers. How Gryffindor you are, Granger! a voice said sarcastically in her mind. But what could she do? Go find Harry and ask him right away? Hermione shook her head grimly.

She put the last book in the opened suitcase, closed it, and stood up resolutely. She would wait and reserve the decision for later; besides, she had not got a clear view of the whole situation between Harry and Cho yet, so it was better to wait and see. She wouldn't want to do something that could ruin their friendship, least of all something that she, herself, wasn't even sure of.

As she looked around the room for anything she might have left out, a snowy owl flew in through the opened window. Hermione smiled at the owl when it landed on her shoulder.

“Hello, Hedwig,” said Hermione, patting her soft feathers. “Have you been out on mission, girl? I haven't seen you since I've been back.”

The owl nipped Hermione's ear lightly as if to reply to the witch's question. Hermione chuckled and untied a note from Hedwig's leg. It was from Harry.

Dear Hermione,

Have you changed your mind, now? Why don't you come and visit? Agnes keeps saying M'nee; I think she misses you. (Hermione smiled as she thought of Agnes but frowned at seeing a long scratch on the parchment) Are you angry with me, Hermione? I'm sorry if I have offended you. I suppose it was out of my control; I didn't mean to upset you. Can you forgive me?

Love,

Harry

Hermione read the letter one more time before turning to Hedwig. “Can you wait a minute? I will write a note back to him.” Hedwig nibbled her ear again then flew to stand on the windowsill. Grasping a piece of parchment and a quill, she wrote:

Dear Harry,

I'm not angry with you for any reason. The event (she began but thought better of it and crossed the words out) - I have not changed my mind. I just need a few days to arrange everything (there - it's true, she thought) and go to visit my parents. I will meet you when I return. Kiss Agnes for me, okay?

Love,

Hermione

PS. I'm going to Floo my things to you, first.

Hermione tied the letter on Hedwig's leg and bid the bird goodbye as she took off. Relief washed over her as she skimmed over Harry's letter again. How foolish of her to think Harry meant it. It would save them both from terrible awkward feelings once she moved in with him. Ignoring a slight disappointment in her heart, she waved her wand over her luggage, using the Mobilibuxus charm to move them to the fireplace. She threw a handful of Floo powder in and said clearly, “Harry Potter's house!” The fire burnt bright green and her trunk vanished in a minute.

Picking up a small bag, stuffed with some clothes and other useful things, from the bed, she went downstairs to thank Mr. and Mrs. Weasley for kindly allowing her to stay with them.

***

Hermione arrived at her parents' house around midday. The door was locked, indicating that her mother and father had not yet arrived home. She searched her bag and purse for the key but found nothing. She must have lost it or left it in her trunk, which she had already transferred to Harry's house. She sighed. Pulling out her wand, she looked around for any sigh of Muggle, but there was none. She tapped her wand lightly on the doorknob and muttered “Alohomora”. The door clicked open, revealing her childhood home.

Everything was the same, clean and tidy. Hermione smiled and walked in. She closed the door with another flick of her wand. Hermione was on the brink of tears as she looked at her surroundings and memories came back to her. Her gaze rested on the set of furniture in the middle of the living room. There stood a beautiful golden frame with a Muggle photograph in it.

In the photo was a beautiful woman with brown hair and dark brown eyes. She was Hermione's mother, sitting on a coach. A little girl, young Hermione, sat on her lap; her father was standing behind them, wrapping his arms around her mother's shoulders. Hermione brushed her fingertips over the tiny figures in the photo. She had missed her parents very much and, now, looking at the photo was just making the feelings come crushing down. Hermione hugged the picture to her chest as tears of emotion melted down her cheeks.

A few minutes later, she calmed down. Hermione put the picture back on the table and brushed the remaining teardrops from her face. Still remembering her way around the house clearly, Hermione eagerly climbed the stairs to her room. It was a nice little room with one bed, a writing desk, a dresser, and two rather large bookcases. Hermione dropped her bag on her bed and started exploring. The room was as clean as the living room, no dust on the furniture or wrinkles on the bed sheet; her mother must have cleaned it regularly. She walked to her bookcases. Pulling her wand out, she tapped it on the right onside and muttered a spell; every book in the bookcase sparkled brightly for a second. Hermione smiled; she placed her wand on the desk and picked a book up, turning a few pages for confirmation. Her smiled broadened in satisfaction. She had set up a ward on her room, particularly on her bookcases and her desk, which contained most of her personally magical things, before she took off on her journey. It was not likely that her mother and father would go wandering through her personal things, but it was better safe than sorry, for some of her things were quite nasty.

She prepared a few more things, and then took a bath. While traveling had done nothing to make her tired, her emotions over her childhood memories had drawn a lot of her energy and she had become exhausted. So Hermione thought she would take a nap before she went off hunting for some Muggle lunch, maybe a sandwich, a humbugger, pizza, or whatever; she really missed those kinds of foods very much.

It was very late when Hermione returned from exploring Muggle London. After traveling so long, she was glad to be back in her country. No place like home, she thought happily, as she crawled into her bed. Hermione drifted off to sleep, so exhausted that all thought of the Wizarding world was far away from her mind, including the object of her recent sleepless nights.

***

The next day, her parents arrived; they were overjoyed to see her. Her mother was unable to let go of her at all, and her father beamed delightedly the entire time. When she saw her parents, Hermione realized how she had missed them and thanked the gods for the hundredth time for letting them survive the war five years ago. Seeing the happiness of her mother and father, Hermione decided to take up the matter of her moving in with Harry, later, for now, she would just enjoy the family reunion.

Before she knew it, two days had passed and Hermione decided it was time to tell her parents at dinner that night. Thankfully, it was her father who brought up the topic. She had told them that she would stay for three days but never mentioned where she would go after that.

“Sweetie, what are you planning to do?” asked her father.

Her mother looked up from her plate, somewhat surprised, but quickly smiled and said encouragingly, “Yes, Hermione, will you find a job somewhere in London?”

Hermione bit her lower lip out of childhood habit, thinking of a way to break the news. “As a matter of fact, I already have a plan.” She paused to look from her father's concerned face to her mother's hopeful face. “I'm going to live with Harry,” she finally announced.

Mr. and Mrs. Granger looked dumbfounded and confused. They had heard Harry Potter was married to a woman named Cho Chang from Arthur Weasley, who sometimes dropped in after work to talk to Mr. Granger about some new Muggle inventions. But they didn't know what had happened after the marriage.

“What did you say? Isn't Harry Potter married?” her father inquired carefully as if he were trying to calm himself.

“Yes, Hermione darling, do you know what you are doing?” asked her mother when she found her voice again.

Hermione wasn't surprised that her parents knew about Harry being married, because if Harry hadn't invited them to his wedding, they would at least have heard the news from Mr. Weasley. Mr. Weasley sometimes came to visit her parents while she was still at Hogwarts. But explaining to them the current conditions wasn't going to be easy. She sighed inwardly.

“You know about Harry's wedding, then,” she stated, and both parents nodded. “But do you know that Cho, Harry's wife, is no longer living with him? She left him and their daughter, almost two years ago.” She shook her head pleadingly at her parents' protesting looks. “Please, Mom, Dad it's not like what you're thinking. I'm not going to develop a relationship with Harry while he's still married to another woman. We are best friends.” For now, a voice in her mind added wickedly, but Hermione ignored it. She focused her attention fully on the debate with her parents.

“But why do you want to live with him? It's not that you have nowhere to go, love,” her mother demanded.

“We have an agreement,” Hermione explained patiently. “I'll have a good place to write my book without having to worry about anything and, in turn, I'll help him take care of his daughter. It's not easy for a man to look after a child while he still has to work.” She stopped then added enthusiastically. “Oh - and you wouldn't believe how lovely Agnes is! You'll love her the instant you see her, I'm sure.” Hermione beamed at her mother and father, who looked at one another worriedly.

Mrs. Granger put her knife and folk down neatly. She looked at Hermione seriously for a moment. “How about your life? Your reputation?” she asked, worry visible on her face and her husband's. “You can't just stick to him forever, Hermione.”

Hermione scratched her plate with her folk absentmindedly, an annoying habit when thinking she had developed over the many times of talking while eating with her coworkers in Africa, then she said, “I know you love me, Mom, Dad, but please let me choose my road myself.” Her mother gave her a dark look as if to say, Don't you always? Hermione just smiled and went on, glancing at her father's stern face. “I know what I'm doing. I just need to finish what I've started, and it's not likely that Agnes will stay small forever.”

She gave her parents a sweet smile, reassuring them, but her father still looked anything but reassured and her mother's brows creased together doubtfully. “Oh, please! Mom,” she pleaded desperately, “I promise no more than a few years; I'll show you my groom and settle down, all right?”

“If you say so, dear,” said her mother, unconvinced, but squeezed Hermione's hands firmly in understanding.

Hermione smiled brightly and turned to her father. “All right, Dad?” she asked, her big browns eyes shining with hope.

“All right,” her father grumbled. Hermione threw herself on her father like a five-year-old girl and hugged him tightly. Mr. Granger couldn't help but smile and hugged his little girl in turn. “Thanks, Dad,” said Hermione, kissing her father on the cheek.

***

Her last night at her parents' house went well with little tension between them. The next morning, she said goodbye to her parents, trying very hard not to shed tears. She Apparated to Harry's house, wondering if he had already left for work. That would give her a little more time to prepare herself before actually meeting him but, thinking it over again, delaying time did nothing to calm her winding mind. Well, let's get it over with it. With that thought, Hermione pushed open the gate and walked past the beautiful garden covered with soft layers of fresh snow.

Brushing off some snow on her hair and robe, Hermione knocked lightly on the front door. She expected to hear Dobby's high squeaking voice answer the door, but it slid open without any sound. Hermione looked up from the doorstep and saw Harry towering over her; his face was blank for a moment before filling up with a reluctant smile.

“Good morning, Harry,” said Hermione, hoping that she sound normally cheerful.

“Hi, Hermione, come on in. It's cold out there,” Harry greeted her and held the door open for her.

“How did everything go at your parents'?” asked Harry during the short walk to the living room.

“Wonderful!” answered Hermione, brushing off the remaining snow from her hair. “We were all happy to see each other again, and we had quite a good time together.”

They arrived at the living room. Harry didn't show any signs of uneasiness toward her presence at all, and that was what made Hermione relax.

“Will you wait a few minutes? I'll fix us some tea, or would you prefer coffee?” Harry offered.

Hermione took off her cloak and dropped it, along with her bag, on one chair. She then sat herself in another before replying, “Coffee would be nice, thank you.”

Harry sailed out of the room, leaving Hermione alone. She replayed their conversation again in her mind. Harry was polite and seemed to be careful with his words, but he showed no trace of being uncomfortable, at all. Maybe it was just her mind played a trick on her - that was all. He had been cautious and slightly withdrawn since she was back, not just after that night. Sighing heavily, Hermione decided that whatever had happened, she would just keep it in her heart. She had to be comfortable around him if they were to live under the same roof.

A few minutes later, Harry was back. Hermione forced her mind to get back on the matter at hand. Harry set the cups on the table and poured some coffee for Hermione. “Sugar or milk?” he asked.

“Neither. I prefer black,” answered Hermione, taking the cup from Harry. Seeing Harry raise an eyebrow, she said, “Don't look at me like that, it's become a habit for me now. Can't change.” She muffled the last words while delightedly sipping the bitter liquid.

Harry put two cubes of sugar into his cup and stirred lazily. “I'm glad you're here, Hermione,” he said.

“Now, Harry, don't start again,” Hermione responded and shook her head. “We have our bargain, remember?”

Harry smiled. “Of course I do,” he said and drank his coffee. “Do your parents know you're living here - with me?” he asked after a pause.

“Yes, they do; I told them,” she replied casually, still sipping her coffee.

“They didn't get mad at me, did they?” he asked again.

Hermione looked up at him with an eyebrow raised elegantly. “Why should they?” she inquired, even though Hermione suspected she already knew the answer.

“Because I've taken their daughter away from them,” he said softly, looking down. “I always am a trouble for you, Hermione.”

Hermione frowned; it was far from what she had expected and it was worse. “No, you're not,” she told him slowly and firmly. “I've decided that for myself and my parents, they understand quite well.” After a long session of debating, she added silently to herself. Aloud, she went on, “I hope this is our last talk on the subject, okay?”

“Okay,” said Harry. His face softened as he smiled. They looked at one another silently for a few seconds. Hermione felt her face grew a little hot; quickly she turned her gaze down on her empty cup. Harry followed her direction and offered to refill it.

“Aren't you working today?” Hermione asked, changing the subject. She glanced at her wristwatch; it showed ten am. Harry should be in a dead hurry now if he wanted to get to the Ministry of Magic on time.

“No, I'm not working today,” he replied. Suddenly his face felt into a thoughtful expression.

“What's wrong, Harry?” Hermione asked with concern. “Has anything bad happened?”

Putting his cup down, Harry folded his arms on the table. “Not really bad, don't worry,” he told Hermione, “there had been a group of Dark wizards forming a few years ago. The Ministry had once conquered them, but they've reformed and now have members in many other countries besides England.”

“They're not very dangerous, are they?” asked Hermione. “You look troubled.”

“Well, it's that I, along with the other Aurors, will be leaving for France this afternoon,” Harry informed her.

“Is it an urgency?” asked Hermione, frowning. It didn't sound like nothing to worry about if he had to leave so quickly.

“As a matter of fact, it's not,” Harry explained. “I was informed of the trip a week ago...”

“I can't believe it!” interrupted Hermione, irritably. “Why didn't you tell me sooner? In your letter?”

“Sorry, I just didn't want to disturb you ahead of time, Hermione,” he said softly as if trying to make it up to her.

“Disturb? Harry Potter!” Hermione said hotly, “Am I not your friend? What if I had decided to stay for another week or so? Who would take care of Agnes?” She choked on her last words; somehow Harry's words had brought up so many emotions in her mind. One of the feelings was hurt. How could he think such a thing would disturb her? Shaking her head she turned away, trying to hide the sadness that was surely written on her flushed face. “You don't trust me,” she said just above a whisper, but somehow Harry seemed to hear her.

“I'm sorry, Hermione,” Harry said softly. He reached for her hands and squeezed them slightly. “I didn't mean to hurt you. I just - I thought I'd better leave you alone for a while.” He sighed.

“Of course you didn't,” Hermione said pulling her hands from his. “I don't know, Harry, but you've been acting so distant since I returned. You're still thinking of me as your best friend, aren't you?” She gazed into his emerald eyes that hid behind his round spectacles. His eyes bored into hers for a few seconds before shifting his gaze to the remaining black coffee in her cup.

He nodded slowly and said, his voice clear and determined, “Yes, we are, we always will be.”

Hermione smiled a small smile and grasped his hands. “I won't make you promise to tell me everything, but if you ever need a hand or an ear, please think of me as your first option, okay? And I don't think it will be any trouble since I'm going to be living in the same house as you.”

“All right,” he said.

“Deal!” said Hermione, beaming brightly. “So how long will you stay in France?”

“I'm not sure,” Harry responded, “it depends on how soon we seize them all; it could be a week, a month, or several months.”

Hermione stopped smiling and her brows knitted together again. “Are they dangerous, Harry?” she asked worriedly for a second time.

“Not all of them,” Harry replied casually. When it came to danger, Harry seemed to take it with ease, easier than any other problems. “Only a few are a real threat; most are nothing more than a bunch of wizards and witches who crave Dark magic but are unable to perform it themselves.”

Hermione had never heard Harry say things like that about anyone before; his voice had even a hint of amazement over the whole prospect.

Her frown deepened. “Even though you must be careful, don't underestimate them. Promise?”

Tightening his grip on her hands, he said, “I promise, Hermione, besides I don't have to face them alone, unlike with Voldemort.” He grinned at her. “There are other Aurors and some staff from the French Ministry of Magic who are very capable fighters, so don't worry, Hermione.”

“I can't help it, Harry,” Hermione protested. “Whenever you face danger I can't help but worried about your welfare; you seem to be the one who always attracts danger.”

“Can't help it, huh?” asked Harry, raising an eyebrow. “But who was the one leaving me to face danger alone for five years?”

Hermione bit her bottom lip; he sound genuinely hurt, but when she looked at his face he was smiling at her, no trace of hurt or sad at all. “It was for you own good,” was all she said.

“Now, can I see Agnes? Where is she? I've missed her an awful lot.”

“Dobby is feeding her, I guess,” said Harry, “do you want to go to your room first?”

“No, I trust Dobby has arranged it all right. I want to see Agnes.” Hermione stood up. “Will you accompany me to see your daughter?”

“Of course,” he replied and held out his hand for her to take. The two left the table to make their way to the noisy nursery.

***

A/N: Thanks to: water mellon, Lady Starlight, Shellbell18, Sabrina Potter - Brazil, scorpio-1983, Tywyn, Coolone007, Angie, diggingupophelia, Athena Hermione Riddle, jchaser, WriterLady1031, izzieq, Chancellor, kpxiceboi, spaz141, pottergranny, Lunar Ecliqse, star hh5, Adriele, harryhermionecheerleader, LordIluvatar, Eleanna, Mani12191, Amdorn, Austenlover, willlow, abraxas, Kalina Malia, SakuraEtrnl, Jillian84, ginnymalfoy21, kiwibee, Harryluvr, Plum Blossoms, sweetie513, Courtney119, Mani12191, pwu, sverreault, Creepy Susie, MrsDanielRadcliffe, tabitoo, Sorrentomoon, Harry&Hermione4ever, Alorkin, Izabel, Wytil, September, XxBandGeekxX, Nakhash Mekashefah, pottergranny, mae513, twistedthoughts, Darkassasinsaint, Romps, SweetMemories, Victoria Tonks, shawnpickett, zoeii, markwirez, Rachel A. Prongs, HarryWouldBeAPaladin, Harry and Orlando, Danielle, laurie100117, whichwitch609, Lara, HPFAN1, (for FF.net) Michail A.C, Jameela, Hiscefit, Egla, Aguia8522005, Canada's finest, Princess Shadowcat, Openspy, Phelps-Lover, Gobstopper, century-girl320, twinsies, Tk Macintosh, samarakerina and many of you who don't want to be known!

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8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

***

Disclaimer: Well, you should know by now that they're not mine :( and never will be. JKR's own them.

A/N: I'm sooo very sooory my dear readers. I didn't mean to keep you waiting this long. It's just that real life is getting very tough for me. I hope you still like to read this fic and give me reviews which I promise to read all.:)

My thanks to my dear beta, Nakhash. She is a great beta reader. Thank you all readers and reviewers. I appreciate it a lot.

Nari: I hope this chapter answers your question.

John: Thanks for telling me the truth. No offense is taken. I will try my best to see fit.

Thanks you all again and hope you enjoy this chapter!

***

There was an earsplitting cry coming from the nursery, which was followed by a loud thud. Hermione looked quickly at Harry and saw that he, too, was wearing the same questioning expression on his face. The two quickened their stride in order to reach the door sooner. Harry pushed open the door and hurried inside. Hermione entered the room just a second later. She bumped into Harry from behind as he abruptly stopped in mid stride. Hermione looked up and saw a sight she was sure neither of them had expected.

Harry rushed to Agnes' bed and gathered the still crying baby into his arms. Hermione turned to look at Dobby, who was lying on the floor. His hat was burnt black.

“What happened? Are you okay?” asked Hermione, helping him to his feet. “Is Agnes all right, Harry?”

“She looks all right,” answered Harry, rocking his child back and forth, “she's more shocked than anything, I think.” He turned to inspect the very frightened house-elf. “Dobby?”

Still looking terrified, the elf stammered, “D-Dobby is sorry, Harry Potter.” His eyes dampened with tears. “Dobby doesn't mean to hurt M-Miss Agnes, Dobby is sorry; he is a b-bad elf, a very bad elf.” He burst into hysterical weeping and ran over to the wall, hitting his head on it rapidly.

Agnes, who had quieted down just moments before, started crying again. Harry hugged her even more tightly. Hermione hurried to Dobby's side to stop him from punishing himself further.

“Stop, Dobby!” cried Harry with a hint of anger in his voice. Dobby stopped; he whirled around but did not look at either Harry or Hermione.

“Dobby, it's all right,” said Hermione softly, “no harm was done, just tell us what happened, please.”

The elf looked up at Harry. “Dobby does not know what happened, Harry Potter,” said the elf.

“What do you mean?” inquired Hermione, incredulously.

“Yes, Dobby, don't worry, I'm not angry with you, just tell me the truth,” said Harry.

Agnes stirred in Harry's arms and struggled to pull herself from his tender grip. She looked at Dobby with her huge hazel eyes, as if waiting for him to speak.

Dobby said nervously, “Dobby does not know; Dobby is getting little Miss to wash up, but Miss is not wanting to go. Miss Agnes wants to play, but Dobby needs to get Miss to bathe so Miss can meet her father in the living room.”

He looked at Agnes even more nervously before continuing. “Dobby tries to stop Miss from playing then-then Miss Agnes cries very loudly, and Dobby gets himself thrown on the floor and his lovely hat is all burnt up.” He finished by patting his damaged hat sadly.

“Are you sure that no one else was here?” asked Harry, frowning.

“No, no, Harry Potter,” the elf said fearfully and shook its head.

Hermione took a few steps closer to Harry and Agnes. She glanced around the room. The windows were neatly closed; there wasn't any indication that someone had broken in, and it was impossible for someone to have Apparated in. She looked at Harry and saw that he was also thinking along the same lines.

There's only one possibility, then, thought Hermione. She gazed down at the little girl in Harry's arms. Agnes' big, innocent hazel eyes looked back at her. Hermione saw a glint of recognition in those depths. The girl's red lips curled into a small smile and Hermione smiled back.

“I think I know who did it, now,” said Hermione in a whisper.

“Yeah, she's the one,” replied Harry in a low but excited voice.

Her head snapped up and she saw that Harry was looking at her. Before she could say anything, Dobby's voice interrupted in confusion. “What is it, Harry Potter, Miss Hermione? Is little Miss Agnes all right?” His enormous eyes filled with tears again.

Hermione turned to the poor house-elf. “Don't worry, Dobby,” she assured the elf again, “there's nothing wrong; in fact, it's a wonderful thing, Dobby. Agnes has just started showing her magical ability.”

It took a few second for Dobby to take in the news, but when he did, the elf squealed in delight and jumped up and down. Hermione beamed brightly, even more so when she saw the pride shining in Harry's eyes.

Harry cleared his throat. “Well, I think it's time for you to take your bath now,” said Harry softly to his child, the smile never leaving his lips. Agnes cuddled closer to her father but tilted her head a little to look at him, as if annoyed; it made Harry chuckle. “You want to burn me too, you little witch?” he asked endearingly. Agnes let out a small sound of protest as Harry handed her to Dobby, but nothing more happened.

Hermione followed the exchange between father and daughter. She was glad that Harry was much more relaxed with Agnes, and she told him so as they retreated back to the living room.

“Do you think it's dangerous that Agnes has started showing her magical ability at this young age?” inquired Harry.

“Well … not yet properly three years old can be a little early,” answered Hermione, after some thought, “and she's very powerful, too, I can tell.”

Sitting on the couch, Harry sighed. “I'm starting to doubt my decision to go to France, now,” he told her quietly.

Hermione looked up, a little startled. “Harry, don't worry so much,” she said. “It's natural for a witch or wizard that is not a Squib to do things like that, there's nothing to worry about.”

“I want to be near her, to look after her,” he went on sadly. “I want to be there to explain the strange things that she accidentally causes.”

Hermione smiled a little. She reached for his hand and squeezed it tightly in a comforting motion. “I understand, Harry, but it's not as if you're going to be gone long. Agnes will be fine with me. It's ok, trust me.”

“Of course I trust you,” he said. He gave her a small smile and covered their joined ones with his free one. “I was just being weak, that's all,” he said.

“No, you're not,” replied Hermione instantly, giving him a disapproving look. “Don't talk about yourself like that,” she went on seriously. “It's a father's instinct to want to protect his child. You're not weak, Harry.” She tightened her grip on his hand.

“Go on and fulfill your duty,” Hermione spoke again after a brief moment of silence passed. “I'll keep a watchful eye on her.”

“Thank you, Hermione,” said Harry. “It will be difficult for you do your own work and have any free time. I feel terrible about that.”

“It's not that bad,” answered Hermione cheerfully. “I like to keep busy. Never doubt my abilities. I'll manage it all right.”

Harry did not reply. He only smiled weakly and squeezed her hand. Hermione felt warm inside seeing Harry's smile.

***

The time for Harry to leave came at last. Hermione held Agnes' hand while standing by his bedroom door, waiting for Harry to finish shrinking his trunks.

“Harry, I have one more thing to ask your permission for,” said Hermione, when Harry had put the last shrunken box into his pocket. “I was wondering if you would mind me taking Agnes to see Ron or Ginny, or to the Burrow or maybe to my parents' house.”

“No, Hermione,” answered Harry, picking Agnes up when the girl tottered to her father and pulled at his robes insistently. “It would be great for Agnes to see other people and other parts of both the Muggle and Wizarding world.” He sighed. “I'm a very bad father,” he went on slowly, gazing into Agnes' hazel eyes. “I've never taken her anywhere at all since, since … forever.” He shook his head sadly.

They walked from Harry's room to the main door. “Don't worry, Harry,” Hermione began, “everything will be just fine when you get back.”

“Thank you so much, Hermione,” said Harry, “you're wonderful!”

Hermione smiled, holding out her hands for Agnes when they reached the door. The girl clung more closely to her father. “Come on, Agnes, Daddy has to go to work, dear,” cooed Hermione.

“I'm going to Apparate to the Ministry first then take the Portkey to France,” explained Harry. He patted Agnes on the head and kissed her lovingly on both cheeks. “Be a good girl, darling,” he said softly and hugged his child tightly to his chest. Agnes cuddled closer and gave an unintelligible noise, which sounded like “Daddy.”

Hermione felt tears prickle the back of her eyes, but she tried hard not to give in. She stepped closer to the pair and wrapped her arms around them. For a few seconds, they stayed in the same position, but Agnes started to stir, like any small child when held still too long.

“All right, I'll leave you girls, now,” said Harry, breaking the embrace and handing Agnes to Hermione. She didn't protest, but rested her head on Hermione's chest, seeming to be falling asleep. Harry looked sadly at his child. “Hermione, thank you again for offering to take care of her,” he repeated.

“I'm happy to help you, Harry,” answered Hermione with an assuring smile as she patted Agnes' small back, lulling her deeper into sleep.

Harry took a step closer to Hermione and leaned in to kiss her. It was only a quick peck on the cheek, but it left Hermione slightly off-kilter, especially when he pulled back and she saw his eyes looking sharply at her - her mouth to be exact. Hermione looked back at him, stunned at first, then her eyes shifted to his mouth. The memory of their kiss, a few nights before, came back to her. She didn't know what possessed her, but she closed the distance between them and gave him a chaste kiss on the lips. As quickly as it happened, she pulled back and turned away. “Good luck, Harry,” she said as she walked back into the house with the sleeping Agnes in her arms.

***

True to her word, Hermione took excellent care of Agnes. She also started slowly writing her book. Usually she wrote at night or when Agnes was napping, but when the girl was awake, she looked after her, mostly by herself.

Harry had been away for five days. Hermione had received a letter from him when he arrived, but after that, there were no more owl posts from him. She assumed that he must be very busy.

A week later, Hermione took Agnes to the see Ginny Malfoy. She let the girl play with Joey, Ginny and Draco's son, under Draco's supervision. She told him to keep a close eye on Agnes because she might show her magical ability and put both herself and Joey in danger.

Hermione and Ginny went upstairs to the drawing room where the witches could talk privately. When they arrived at the large, expensively furnished room, Hermione helped Ginny to sit on the couch. It had become a little difficult for her to move around quickly now that her pregnancy was so advanced.

Ginny summoned some tea for them as Hermione started to talk. “You know that Harry is in France?” asked Hermione.

“Yes, Draco told me after Harry left,” the younger witch answered, while pouring them both some tea.

“Do you think it's dangerous, this mission?” inquired Hermione, furrowing her brows as she tasted the bitter liquid Ginny gave her.

“No. I don't think it's as dangerous as facing Voldemort,” Ginny replied casually.

“That was what Harry said,” replied Hermione, recalling the talk she had with him before he left. Hermione felt so unsure of herself. It was as if she was being overly concerned, but how could she not be worried about her friend? Even when she had been away, living an independent life with few friends, least of all close friends, she was still the same Hermione: the Hermione who would worry about her friends' homework, the Hermione who was watchful of her friends' well-being.

She had missed Harry badly these last few days, more than during the five years she was away, and she couldn't figure out the reason why. Maybe Agnes was too constant a reminder of him, or maybe it was the fact that she was now thinking of Harry as more than a platonic friend, now. Hermione scowled at herself. Why am I thinking of Harry as more than just a platonic friend?

“Hermione?” said a voice, pulling Hermione from her train of thought. Coming back to reality, Hermione realized that she had spend the last five minutes debating with herself, leaving her friend staring at her worriedly.

“Are you all right, Hermione?” asked Ginny with concern.

Hermione nodded her head. “I'm all right, Gin.” She smiled at Ginny, who was still looking at her doubtfully.

“Are you sure? You stared at the same point for so long,” said Ginny, trying to get Hermione to tell her the truth. “What were you thinking about?”

“Nothing - nothing at all,” Hermione stuttered. How could she tell Ginny about her thoughts? They were so muddled!

Narrowing her eyes, Ginny gave her friend a suspicious look. “There's something going on between you and Harry, right?” asked Ginny, but she didn't wait for Hermione to reply, she went on, “You two are getting closer, Hermione, and all of us want to see you two happy, so if there is something I can help you with, please just tell me.”

Hermione sighed heavily. “I don't know, Ginny,” said Hermione weakly, “everything is so confused. I- I think I'm attracted to Harry, now.” She put her head in her hands, afraid to see the shocked look on Ginny's face that she was sure was there.

“I don't think it's really such a bad thing,” said Ginny, after a few seconds of silence.

Hermione's head shot up, a look of shock and disbelieve clearly written on her face.

“You don't know what you're talking about, Ginny Wea- Malfoy!” said Hermione tightly. “I'm telling you that I am developing feelings for a man who is my best friend, and who is already married, and you're telling me it's not a bad idea - why?”

Ginny raised an eyebrow but her face held a serious expression. “I can understand what you're thinking,” she said then paused, considering her next words carefully. “Hermione, you're a smart woman and a very thoughtful friend, but sometimes you can be so hard on yourself.”

“And what, pray tell, does that mean?” said Hermione, a little irritably.

Ginny sighed. “No offense, Hermione, but think about it: people are allowed to be a little selfish sometimes, aren't they?”

“I still don't get what you mean, Ginny,” said Hermione warily. She did get what Ginny was hinting at, but fear of the idea was still keeping her from acknowledging it.

“What I mean is that, if you and Harry do have a feelings for each other, which I don't doubt is true,” said Ginny bluntly, “why don't you try to work things out?”

Hermione looked at Ginny, speechless. She didn't mean it, did she? she asked herself. “How can you say that, Ginny?” said Hermione, after finding her voice. “Harry is a married man with a child, and Cho, Harry's wife, is our friend, is she not?” Hermione hoped that her voice sounded convincing enough, because deep down the words Ginny spoke had already jolted her and was threatening to cause her mind to rebel.

“That's a problem to be solved by you two,” said Ginny calmly. “There's no ignoring it. You know quite well what the problems are. The only real difficulty is the fact that you two are best friends, and when someone's that close to us, it can make choices more difficult, but think about it, Hermione, there's nothing more important than your happiness. You know that you won't be able to be happy with anyone but Harry and vice versa. Don't deny it,” added Ginny as she saw the look of protest on Hermione's face. She went on, “It can't be that bad; why don't you give it a go?”

“What if Cho comes back?” asked Hermione in a small voice. She didn't feel like herself at all, having this kind of a talk with Ginny. Hermione Granger, the know-it-all of Hogwarts, could be quite stupid when it came to matters in the heart department. It was almost ironic.

“It doesn't really matter, Hermione,” said Ginny, almost relieved that somehow her words had had some effect on Hermione.

“How could it not matter?” Hermione whispered, hopelessly. “I can't steal someone's husband, let alone my own friend's.” Tears slid down her cheeks. Hermione was angry with herself for not being able to control her own heart, now that it was obvious her heart was yearning for Harry. She could no longer deny it.

Ginny came round to sit next to Hermione and gathered the sobbing witch in her arms. Hermione allowed the tears of frustration and long-denied feelings to come out. The moment faltered on until Hermione calmed down. She wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her robe and looked up at Ginny, but the younger witch shook her head. “Things are not as bad as you think, Hermione,” she said in a motherly tone, “sometimes you need to take a step back, and then you'll see that the answer is quite easy. Even if we're witches, we don't live forever, so you have to treasure what you have and the take the opportunity to go after what you want.”

“Thank you,” said Hermione, smiling, then she added playfully, “you're a real mother, Gin.”

“It's real life experience,” she said, stroking her bulging stomach. “I've learned a lot.”

***

Later that evening, Hermione and Agnes returned home. Dobby was already busily preparing dinner, even though Hermione had told him not to bother because they might eat with Ginny.

Hermione had a bit of sausage for dinner; somehow, she didn't feel like eating at all. Whenever she looked at the food, all she could do was sigh or move it about her plate. Ginny's words kept returning to her jumbled mind, and the more she thought about it, the more sense it made. Finally, Hermione decided she'd had enough thinking for the day and went up to the nursery where Dobby was trying to get Agnes to bed.

The girl was tired from the day's activities, but as stubborn as she was, she tried to fight Dobby and refused to go to bed. Hermione played with her for about half an hour then sang her a song to lull her to sleep. Finally, Agnes was peacefully asleep, so Hermione went back to her own room. She got her parchment and quill out, intending to continue writing her book, but after about an hour, Hermione still was unable to concentrate. She gave up and fell into restless sleep.

One week, and then another; still Hermione heard nothing from Harry. She began to feel troubled, but didn't want to overreact. She kept her worries to herself and continued her life with Agnes, as usual.

On Sunday evening, the fourth week, Hermione was taking Agnes for a walk outside in the garden when Ronald Weasley turned up.

“Hi, `Mione!” Ron called from afar.

“Hey, Ron!” said Hermione delightedly. “How are you?”

Agnes tottered back to Hermione and extended her hand for support. The older witch heaved the girl up and walked over to her old friend.

“Great, I'm just back from a Quidditch trip,” answered Ron, “how about you and Agnes? She's not a troublemaker like her father, is she?” Ron grinned wickedly and Agnes, who was clutching to Hermione, appeared to take offense at the redheaded wizard's words.

Hermione chuckled softly. “Nah, she's a good girl, Ron,” said Hermione. “How's Luna?”

“She's fine,” replied Ron. He craned his neck and looked around. “Where's Harry?”

“He's in France, didn't you know?” said Hermione.

“Yes, but I think he's back now,” responded Ron. “I saw David, who was one of the Aurors on mission in France, just fifteen minutes ago; that's why I thought Harry would be home by now.”

Hermione's brows knitted together as her brain started to think of any logical reason for Harry's absence. But the fact that she had not heard from Harry in all this time made it hard for her to not worry.

“Are you sure, Ron, that this David has been to France and is back now?” asked Hermione sharply, hugging Agnes to her even more tightly.

“Yes, Dad told me David was going the day after they left,” said Ron; he too sounded worried.

“I want to go to the Ministry of Magic,” stated Hermione suddenly.

“But it's Sunday,” Ron told her. “Don't jump to conclusions too quickly, Hermione. We all know that Harry is quite capable of protecting himself; besides, if something bad had happened someone would have informed you and the press, don't forget.”

They fell into silence. It was the second time now that Hermione felt like an immature child in front of her friends. How unlike her! Hermione thought irritably. Maybe she did need to learn about real life and not just what was in a book.

“Okay, Ron,” said Hermione finally, “maybe tomorrow, if Harry still doesn't turn up, we can go to the Ministry.”

“Yeah, that would be good. I'll go with you, Hermione,” said Ron, and he leaned down to kiss both Hermione and Agnes on the cheek before saying goodbye to the two witches.

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