Intervention
By FenrisWolf
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DISCLAIMER - I don't own anything related to Harry Potter, JK Rowling does…darn it.
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AUTHOR'S NOTE Part I - Wow, I've never had such a flood of reviews for anything I've written! Thanks to everyone who has responded so favorably to the work. Those of you who had honest questions and criticisms about the story, I hope I've answered them with my review replies. And to the anonymous loser who couldn't bother to sign his or her flame; Phpbpbpbt! If you don't have the stones to sign it, don't bother posting it, because I WILL delete it!
On another topic: a reviewer pointed out my use of the term 'smut' or 'smutty goodness' as being incorrect, and given its true definitions, I have to agree. Yes, it's a popular shorthand term for NC-17 fics, but we need to stop using it. Stories about loving, consensual sex between caring people are not filthy, dirty, or obscene, all of which are synonyms for smut. I write adult fanfics, not smut. Thanks, Romulus Lupin, for reminding me of that. On with the show!
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Chapter Five - Aftermath
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Harry's awareness of his surroundings returned as the aftershocks of his orgasm faded from his nervous system; nothing in his life had ever felt like what he'd just experienced, and he was pretty darned sure he was looking forward to experiencing it again. His eyes opened, and he looked into the face of the girl-of the woman who made it possible with a smile, a smile that vanished when he saw the marks of her tears on her cheeks. "Hermione! Gods, what-oh, God, I hurt you, didn't I?" he asked in horror, his gut clenching as a feeling of guilt started to sweep over him.
Before he could get too worked up Hermione's hand covered his mouth. "Shhh, Harry, it's all right; I told you it could hurt the first time. It actually wasn't as bad as I thought it might be. Please, don't worry…"
Harry shook his head; the idea that he'd been the cause of her tears, whether she accepted them or not, was almost physically nauseating. He started to pull away from her, but she put her hands on either side of his face, forcing him to look at her. "Harry, listen to me: it's all right. You felt a…barrier inside me. It's called a hymen, and if it isn't torn by accident or activity earlier in life, it's broken the first time a woman has sex. Most girls who are at all active in sports lose theirs early on; I'd lay odds there isn't a Quidditch-playing witch in the world who still has hers. I've always been a bookworm; I'd rather be in the library than on a broom any day of the week." She gave a little shrug and smiled before kissing him softly. "Really, Harry, it's no big deal. A little pain, a little blood, and next time-"
One word stuck in his head. Blood? He lifted himself away from her and looked down to where his softening member had slipped out of her, and could make out faint touches of red intermingled with the milky residue of his own spent passion. "Oh my God…" he whimpered, only to have his attention grabbed by a slap to his cheek.
"Harry, stop that right now!" Hermione demanded. There was something faintly incongruous about feeling intimidated by a naked girl lying under you, but he wasn't about to deny it, not with her brown eyes snapping at him in anger. "You listen to me, Harry James Potter," she continued, once she knew she had his undivided attention. "Did I or did I not bring you here? Did I or did I not ask you to make love to me? Did I or did I not practically have to twist your arm to make you do so at one point…a fact which, of itself, is more than enough reason for any girl to be quite cross with her boyfriend! Honestly!" She shifted slightly, indicating her desire to move, and he rolled to one side so that they were lying side by side facing each other. She leaned over and gave him a quick kiss before cradling the cheek she'd just slapped with her palm. "Harry, I know it's hard for you, but you're going to have to learn to stop taking guilt onto yourself for things that aren't…your…fault. I'm sure that there will be plenty of times in our relationship when you'll do or say something for which you really should feel guilty. This isn't one of them. Please, stop."
Harry finally smiled and nodded, earning himself a hug. He still wasn't one hundred percent convinced he wasn't at least partly at fault, but he was smart enough to recognize an argument he wasn't going to win. Not to mention the idea of aggravating his best-friend-now-girlfriend-now-lover wasn't the smartest thing to do, not if he ever again wanted to experience what had just happened. Speaking of which…he felt like cursing his body's traitorous appetites as he felt himself starting to stiffen again, and then was startled when Hermione…giggled. Giggled? Hermione? Apparently so, as she said, "Seems like someone feels like playing again," her tone reflecting that same maddening purr that had driven him wild before. Her hand slipped between them and stroked him lightly, eliciting a shiver in return.
"Are you sure?" he asked while he could still think coherently; he didn't care what she claimed, he damned well wasn't going to hurt her again, not if he could help it.
"Yes, I'm sure," she replied, moving closer and nibbling his neck. After a minute of making his pulse race and his skin tingle she continued, "According to what I've read, it's only bad the first time; after that, it gets a lot better. All we have to do is…take it slow, and we'll both enjoy ourselves. Just be…gentle," she concluded, covering his mouth with hers. And he was.
And they did.
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Luna smiled as she walked hand in hand with Ronald toward the Burrow, feeling pleasantly mussed, if a little bit disappointed. Then again, she should have been prepared for the possibility, but one so rarely encountered nobility these days, how could she have expected that her Knight would be a true knight in all respects, and actually refuse to accept what she offered?
She glanced up at him out of the corner of her eyes, enjoying the sight of his madly tousled hair with bits of leaf and twig stuck in it. She supposed her hair looked even more disheveled; she certainly hoped so, anyway, as she readjusted her inside out top once more. Their explorations of each other's bodies had been enthusiastic, if not as complete as she would have preferred; the memory of his lips wandering over her nipples produced an echo of the earlier sensations along her nerves, as did the memory of the feel of him in her mouth…
Still, she imagined she could understand his hesitancy; they were on Weasley land after all, if not within its heart, and no doubt Ronald and his siblings had all been warned about the possible consequences of certain acts. Not that she would try and force a Bonding on him; well, she wouldn't mind, but she'd never do it without asking him first, that sort of thing went out of fashion with Bride Stealing, for Merlin's sake!
Her thoughts and forward progress were both brought a halt when the person holding her had came suddenly to a halt, his fingers tightening around hers. Startled, she turned and discovered him shaking his head, a slightly dazed expression on his face. "Ronald, what's the matter?" she asked anxiously, giving his arm a shake.
"Something…something's affecting the family wards," he mumbled, his eyes slowly focusing on her. "They flared up for a second there, just like they did this morning, and now they've settled, but they feel weird, like they've been really stretched…" An idea occurred to him, and his eyes widened, but then he shook his head, muttering, "That doesn't make sense." Turning his attention to his puzzled girlfriend, he asked, "What did you girls talk about, Luna? Are you sure it was Hermione that was going to go to Harry?"
Luna cocked her head, considering her boyfriend's question, and then realized just what it was he was suggesting. "I'm very sure, Ronald," she hastened to reassure him. "Ginevra and Hermione were very clear that it would be Hermione who saw to Harry's needs, not your sister…would you like me to see if I can See anything?" As her boyfriend, Luna had decided to explain to him about her family's gift, though she'd avoided mentioning her visions of them together. Ronald had been fascinated, but predictably, his first question had been if she'd ever Seen the Chudley Cannons winning the World Cup.
At his encouraging nod, Luna closed her eyes and focused her thoughts on first Harry and then Hermione, making a conscious effort to open her Sight, trying to see if there had been any changes in the Possibilities surrounding them.
As she did so, she sighed inwardly. One of her many regrets about the death of her mother, aside from how much she missed her, and how much it had hurt Father, was that she'd never had the chance to help Luna learn how to properly control her gift. Left to her own devices, she'd been forced to teach herself by trial and error, an imperfect method at best. It was why she was never completely free of its effects, and why, when she did try and consciously use it, she could never count on success.
First she focused on Harry, hoping that this time would be different, but as in the past the Sight was obscured. It was really quite frustrating, because she had no one who could explain why she couldn't See him; she suspected that perhaps it had something to do with his connection to Voldemort, or because Harry seemed to be one of those people who had a Destiny with a capital 'D', but whatever the reason, the Sight just refused to clear where he was concerned.
Annoyed but not really surprised, Luna shifted her focus to Hermione, and this time her efforts were rewarded. A kaleidoscopic whirl of images flickered before her inner eye as her poorly trained Sight tried to show her all the possible permutations of Hermione Granger's future. Biting her lip, Luna tried to bring the flow of insight under control. The pace slowed, turning into a slideshow that, while still moving too fast for real clarity, allowed her to gather the gist of the message her Sight was trying to impart. Some of it confused her, some of it embarrassed her, and a little of it frightened her, but the basic answer was the same. Opening her eyes, she smiled up at her boyfriend. "I don't know why your family's wards are reacting, Ronald, but Harry and Hermione are together."
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Dusk was settling over the woods as Harry and Hermione made their way back towards the Burrow, Harry's arm draped over her shoulders and hers around his waist, as if they were still unwilling to completely let go of the intimacy they'd just shared. Hermione's lips were pleasantly tender, as were other portions of her body; they'd made love twice more after the first time, and as she'd predicted, each time had been better than the last. A slightly goofy smile was lingering on Harry's face, the result of the memory of Hermione's face above him, suffused with the pleasure of her orgasm as he finally 'got it right'.
Unnoticed by Harry, the expression on Hermione's wasn't nearly as happy. The moment was fast approaching when she was going to have to admit to him just what she'd done, and she realized she was more than a little nervous at the prospect. She wished there had been more time, that she'd had the knowledge far enough in advance of the day's events to lay the groundwork with Harry. Unfortunately, one again the wizarding world's blindness to the lacks inherent in a Muggleborn's upbringing had tied her hands. She'd just have to explain matters to Harry as best she could, and hope that eventually he'd understand…
The sight of the Burrow appearing ahead of them as they exited the woods snapped Hermione out of her reverie. Steeling her nerves, she tugged on Harry's hand, bringing him to a halt with a quizzical quirk of his eyebrow as he turned his happy, relaxed face towards her. "What's the matter, Hermione? Not ready to go back just yet?"
Swallowing nervously, Hermione shook her head. "Not exactly, it's just…Harry, there's something I need to tell you, before we go back in, and I'm not sure…I guess I'm a little scared as to how you're going to take it," she admitted, unwilling to meet his eyes.
Harry's happy expression had been replaced by a frown as she spoke, and then shifted to a white-faced look of panic. "Merlin, we didn't use any-Hermione, you aren't pregnant, are you?" he asked, his voice strained with, there was no other word for it, blind terror.
Hermione looked at him blankly for a second while he held his breath, and then she burst out laughing. "Harry…the look on your face…." she gasped as his expression shifted from one of fear to irritation.
"Well, I'm glad you find my worries so funny; I sure didn't," he grumbled, and she patted his arm soothingly.
"I'm sorry, I guess it isn't funny, or wouldn't be if I hadn't taken precautions," she admitted. "But you don't need to panic, I'm no more ready to be a mother than you are to be a father; I took a potion before I went looking for you."
"I was not panicking," Harry said with affronted pride. Hermione just looked at him amusedly, and he finally admitted, "Well, okay, maybe a little, but you have to admit, the way you sounded so serious I had a right to a little panic. Which reminds me; why did you stop to talk?"
Hermione's amusement faded as she remembered the real reason she needed to speak to him. "It's just that…Harry, some of the things we talked about, back at the lake, about the way people are supposed to treat each other, do you remember?" She felt his fingers clench around hers, saw his expression go wooden, and took that as a yes. "I know it makes you uncomfortable for me to talk about it, and I promise I won't ask you to tell me anything you're not ready to, but Harry, you have to get away from them. I see what it does to you every year, spending even a little time with them; it's not right, not right at all. You're much too good a person to have to put up with their abuse…I just can't let you go back there again, I can't!" she cried, her eyes bright with unshed tears.
"It doesn't matter," he replied bitterly, his mood darkening as everything that was hanging over him came crashing back. "My mum's sacrifice and Aunt Petunia's blood help protect me; it's not as much as it used to be, not since Voldemort managed to use my blood to bring himself back, but it's better than nothing. Professor Dumbledore isn't going to listen to what I want, not if it means putting me at any extra risk. I'm too important to him and the Order for that," he muttered to himself, not realizing Hermione could hear him.
Hermione gave him a minute to collect himself before continuing; she suspected that he hadn't intended that last remark for her ears, and filed it away for later consideration, as it clearly was a clue to what was troubling him so much. 'One crisis at a time,' she reminded herself firmly. "What if there was a way you didn't have to go back there again? A way that would counter any objections the professor might want to make? Would you take it if it was offered?" she asked, her determined gaze boring into his.
The first signs of comprehension appeared on his face. "What did you do?" he demanded, his depressed expression changing to one of concern, and to her surprise, fear. "Hermione, what really happened in that circle?"
She opened her mouth to answer, but before she could get the words out, a happy, excited voice called out, "There you two are!" Harry and Hermione spun around in time to see Mrs. Weasley rushing at them from the direction of the Burrow. Before they had more than a second to brace themselves they were both enveloped in a gigantic hug. "Oh, Harry, when I felt it happen I almost couldn't believe it! Of course for a while I had hoped it might happen differently, but in a way this is…I'm so happy for the two of you; welcome to the family, dear!" she cried, kissing him firmly on both his cheeks.
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Hermione winced as Mrs. Weasley put an arm about both their waists and started dragging them towards the Burrow, completely missing the stunned look on Harry's face in her excitement as she chattered away nonstop: "I suppose we'll have to apologize to that awful Cow Skeeter, now, won't we?" she said, "Imagine her seeing that two years ago! Then again, it could have just been a lucky guess on her part…Hermione, you'll want to write your parents and let them know…perhaps I could go see them and explain things to them for you, so they'll understand how it all works…I really must have a talk with Albus about the holes in the education the Muggleborn students, you could have knocked me over with a sugar quill when Ginny told me you didn't know about bonding magic…dear, do you want to hold the ceremony here next year, or are you going to want a Muggle wedding…?"
That word was enough to bring any teenage boy to a screeching halt, and in this, Harry was no different than anyone else. "Whoa, wait a minute! Wedding? What wedding?" he demanded.
"Why, yours and Hermione's of course, dear," Mrs. Weasley replied, missing Hermione's quiet whimper. "The handfasting the Bonding produces only lasts for a year and a day, surely Hermione told you that. If we want your inclusion into the family's wards to be permanent, you have to make it official…" Her eyes narrowed as she saw the confused look on his face. "Harry, dear, Hermione did explain it all to you, didn't she?"
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FLASHBACK
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The morning after her discovery of the eye-opening revelations concerning wizards, sex and magic, Hermione was sitting cross-legged on her bed, reading through her notes while Ginny rummaged through her closet, looking for something she said would help with Hermione's plans for Harry. Luna had left earlier for town, mentioning something about picking up some 'appropriate clothing' before approaching her prospective boyfriend. Hermione's mind boggled slightly at the the thought of what the strange girl might think was appropriate for a seduction, but at least it meant one less distraction while she sorted through all the new information that had been imparted to her.
Something Luna had mentioned early on was nagging at her, and she was going back over their conversation, using her shorthand to jog her memory. As she turned another page, she idly remembered Ginny snickering when she'd pulled out a quill and parchment as if for class, but the Ravenclaw girl hadn't even batted an eye…which perhaps was an indication of just how odd it was to be treating the subject in such a scholarly fashion. Still, knowledge was knowledge, and she wasn't about to change her methods for absorbing it just because it happened to be about sex, instead of transfiguration.
Her daydreaming came to a halt as she recognized the portion of the conversation that was troubling her. Reading through her notes, she finally found what had been nagging at the back of her mind. "Ginny? Can you come out here for a minute? There's something I need to ask you."
"Just a second, Hermione, I think I found it…aha!" Ginny said triumphantly, emerging from the closet with what looked to be a couple of scraps of fabric and some string. "This should do nicely for getting Harry to think of you as a girl," she added with a conspiratorial wink, tossing what Hermione realized was the skimpiest bikini she'd ever seen in her life.
The thought of herself in it, and more, of Harry seeing her in it, made her blush furiously, but she set those thoughts aside to get back to the matter at hand. "Gin, something Luna said worries me. Was she right when she said that a witch or wizard's magical defenses are at their lowest during sex, especially the first time?"
"Well, yeah," Ginny replied, shrugging. "That's why a lot of the old handfasting spells placed so much importance chastity; bondings are more effective if both partners are virgins. Why? It's not as if you're planning on marrying Harry…not today, anyway," she amended when she saw the look in her friend's eyes.
Hermione shook off the momentary vision Ginny's words had engendered and continued, "We may have to think of something else, than, or wait until we're at Hogwarts and I can figure out how to set up stronger protections, then," she said, her tone crestfallen.
"Why? I don't understand, I thought you agreed this was the best way to help Harry," Ginny asked, confused.
"Because it's too risky," Hermione replied. "Don't you remember what led to all the trouble last year? Harry's connection to Voldemort?" She ignored her friend's flinch and bored ahead. "Harry's magic is connected to him somehow; it's why Professor Snape was supposed to be teaching him Occlumency, to keep Harry free from his influence. So what happens when he not only has a powerful surge of magical energy, but his defenses are at his weakest? Voldemort could possess Harry, maybe even kill him! Hardly the best way to help him, is it?" She shook her head. "We just have to come up with some other idea, at least for now."
Ginny considered everything Hermione had said, nodding as she did so. "You're right; good thing you thought of it, it could have been a right mess if you hadn't. I remember what it was like when just the echo of Tom Riddle used that diary to possess me, I don't even want to think what it would be like to have the real Tom try it. No wonder Harry was in such a state last year…" An idea occurred to her; she turned it over in her mind a few times, examining it for flaws, and found none. "What if there was a way that was safe?" she asked quietly. "A way for you two to get together here at the Burrow, and still be safe? Would you go for it?"
Hermione's gaze met hers. "You've thought of something to protect Harry when we…when I make love to him?" she asked, hope dawning in her eyes.
"Not so much something, but someplace," Ginny corrected. "Come on, we need to go talk to Mum."
"What?" Hermione squeaked, appalled at the idea of discussing their plans with the woman who'd almost become a second mother to her since entering the magical world.
"Well, I can hardly adopt you as my sister without her permission, can I?" Ginny replied, dragging her now thoroughly flustered friend with her.
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"…so that's where we stand, Mum," Ginny concluded as she brought Mrs. Weasley up to speed on their discussions concerning what to do about Harry. Hermione had been silent through most of it, sitting with her knees drawn up in an overstuffed chair by the fire and feeling herself blushing bright red as the youngest Weasley told her mother all about their plans to introduce the troubled young man to the healing powers of really good sex.
To Hermione's chagrin, Molly Weasley hadn't been even slightly shocked by the concept; on the contrary, she seemed genuinely pleased, if slightly disappointed that it was Hermione and not Ginny that was planning on seducing her surrogate son. The only thing that had shocked her had been much the same as what had scandalized her daughter, and that was the appalling backwardness of Muggles concerning sexual matters.
One thing did trouble the Muggleborn girl, and, biting her lip, she mentioned it. "Mrs. Weasley? I hope you don't mind my asking…two years ago, during the Tri-Wizard tournament, when you thought I was toying with Harry's feelings, you sent me a Howler…why aren't you more upset now? It seems to me this is much more serious than the sort of thing Rita Skeeter was insinuating…"
Molly had the good grace to blush at her remember mistake. "I truly am sorry for that misunderstanding, dear," she replied, "I certainly should have known better, but I'm afraid I'm a little overprotective where Harry is concerned." She shot a warning glance at her daughter when Ginny snorted in agreement, and then continued. "But as to why I'm not upset about this, weel it's a very different situation, isn't it? For one thing, you are, as you pointed out, two years older. For another, you're discussing being intimate with the young man you love, not fooling around with his affections like a cheap tart."
She shook her head in amazement. "Muggle attitudes towards sex truly amaze me; on one hand they treat it as some sort of commodity, and use it to sell anything and everything under the sun, and on the other, they treat it like something dirty, when it's the most natural, beautiful thing two people who care about one another can share." She turned and smiled at Ginny. "Your father and I were about Harry and Hermione's age when we first had sex, you know."
Ginny immediately squinched her eyes shut. "Mum! There are some things your children just don't want to think about, and you and Dad having sex is near the top of that list! Ewww!"
Molly laughed, and Hermione was amazed by the roguish tone of her chuckle. "Really, Ginny, you know we must've had sex at least seven times, you do have six brothers." Her expression turned dreamy as she added, "I've sometimes wondered if that's because we did it seven times that first day…"
"MUM!" Ginny shrieked, earning another laugh from her mother.
"Um, speaking of first times, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione interjected, forcing herself to join the conversation in order to get it back on track, "we're worried about what might happen to Harry while he and I are…involved," she finished somewhat lamely.
"Worried? Why?" Molly asked with a frown.
"Because of Harry's connection to You-Know-Who, Mum." Ginny answered, causing her mother's eyes to widen. She went on to explain their concerns, and the reasons for them.
"Oh, that poor boy; I knew there was something Albus wasn't telling us!" Molly cried when her daughter finished. "I said that to Arthur, the first time I met Harry; I said, "Arthur, Professor Dumbledore isn't telling the Order everything he knows about Harry," but no, your father just said that Albus knew best. Well, I don't care, head of the Wizengamot or not, he shouldn't be playing with Harry's welfare like that, and the next time I see him-"
"Mum!" Ginny practically shouted before her mother could completely wind herself up. "We're talking about helping Harry today, remember? Let's worry about giving the professor a piece of your mind some other time, okay?"
"Oh, sorry dear, you're quite right, Harry's welfare does come first," Molly apologized. "Now, what did you have in mind?"
Ginny glanced briefly at Hermione, and then turned back to her mother. "I was think of…the Circle, actually," she said, her tone earnest. "If Hermione was able to take Harry there…"
Molly's face went blank, and then became very serious. "Ginny, you do realize what you're proposing, what a big step it is?"
"I understand, really, I do, Mum," Ginny replied, before Hermione cleared her throat.
"Excuse me, but what exactly are you talking about?" she asked, "And why is it a 'big step', if you don't my asking?"
"Oh, no, dear, I don't mind, since it directly involves you," Mrs. Weasley answered cryptically, not alleviating Hermione's concerns in the least. Seeing that, Molly continued, "It's not something pureblooded wizards normally talk about to those outside of the family, but the old Pureblood lines, those that still live on their ancestral lands, we have personal wards that protect us from magical attack so long as we're on our own land. We may not be wealthy like the Malfoys or the Blacks, but Weasleys have lived at the Burrow for centuries, and every generation has reinforced the wards with their own energies. Those reinforcements are performed using sex magic."
She smiled at the look of intense interest on Hermione's face. "The ancestral home of every family has a Heart, a place where the wards are anchored. Only one of the Blood can enter the Heart, or someone escorted by the Blood. Needless to say, the protections on a Heartsite are some of the oldest, most powerful protections in the wizarding world. Nothing harmful to a member of the Blood can cross those wards, not even something cast by You-Know-Who, I'm sure of it." Molly reached out and squeezed Hermione's hand. "If you and Harry are within the Circle when you give yourselves to each other, I promise you'll be safe."
Hermione thought about what she'd described, and her face fell. "That's all fascinating, Mrs. Weasley, but I don't see how that helps us. Neither Harry nor I are Weasleys, so the Circle really doesn't do us any good."
"Oh, well, that's the big step I was talking about, dear," Molly replied, sighing when Hermione continued to look puzzled. "Obviously, you need a Weasley's blood to enter the Circle. Since you weren't lucky enough to be born one of us, we'll just have to adopt you."
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Hermione followed Mrs. Weasley and Ginny through the woods, her mind still whirling from the morning's events. Her stammered concerns, born more from her insecurities than from any real objections to joining the Weasley clan, had quickly been answered, either by the two Weasley's women's reassurances that yes, they really did want her to be part of their family (Ginny had hugged her and whispered, 'I always wanted a big sister'), or by the simple expedient of pointing out that it was to help Harry.
So here they were, out in a section of the woods she'd never seen before, and suspected she'd never have found if she wasn't with one of the family. A few minutes later they exited the path into a small clearing, its area defined by a combined ring of ancient trees and standing stones. Seeing the size of the trees and the patina of lichen on the stones, Hermione thought to herself, 'Centuries? More like millennia…how long have the Weasleys lived here?'
Her thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of two hands in hers as Molly and Ginny led her through the perimeter. There was a brief crackle, and her hair frizzed outward as if from static electricity, and then they were within the Circle's confines. Molly led her to the northern edge, where a long, flat stone seemed to serve as an altar, and removed a small, sharp-edged bolline from a sheath at her waist. Ginny came up on her other side, and then the older woman smiled at her. "Now, there's nothing to be nervous about, dear; the adoption ceremony is really very simple. All you have to do is answer a few questions, and repeat a couple of phrases…oh, and there's the Sharing of Blood, of course," Molly finished, and then turned to face the stone before Hermione could question her.
Holding her right hand above its surface, she used the knife in her left to score a shallow cut across her palm. The moment her blood dripped onto the stone its surface flared blue, the flickering color jumping from the flat slab to the standing stones and around the ring, until the cool, blue flames surrounded them. "We bring new Blood to join with the Old," Molly enunciated carefully, clearly a ritual phrase. Turning to Hermione, she held out the hand with the cur palm to her, taking the girl's hand in hers. "Hermione Granger, do you join willingly, as we willingly join you to our Blood?"
"Yes."
"Will you give loyalty, as loyalty is given by our Blood?"
"Yes."
"Will you give love, as love is given by our Blood?"
"Yes."
Molly turned Hermione's hand and cut her palm before pressing her own cut to hers. Holding their joined hands over the stone she watched as the drops of mingled blood struck the stone, causing the fire to flare again. "Blood to Blood, Mother to Daughter, I welcome you to our family," she said with a smile.
Hermione's eyes were tearing up as she replied, the words coming naturally to her, "Blood to Blood, Daughter to Mother, I am honored to join your…our family."
Molly gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek, her own eyes shining. Then she held out her hand to her biological daughter. Ginny held still while the bolline cut her palm, and then gripped Hermione's hand in turn. "Blood to Blood, Sister to Sister, I welcome you to our family."
"Blood to Blood, Sister…to Sister, I am…oh, Ginny, I am so happy to join our family!" she cried, hugging the younger girl. "I'll tell you a secret," she whispered as she held her close. "I always wanted a younger sister."
The ritual completed, the three women chatted as the blue fire faded from the stones, with Molly filling her newest daughter in on some of the family history, as well as describing some of the charms she could teach her that were family secrets.
As they turned to leave, though, Ginny glanced around and remarked, "You know, Hermione, now that you're officially a Weasley, it's too bad you can't just pull a fast one and hold a Bonding with Harry; that way we'd all be the same family!"
"Ginevra Weasley!" Molly gasped, whirling about. "That is far too serious a matter to be joking about, for shame!"
"Sorry, Mum," Ginny answered, looking a bit shamefaced.
Unfortunately, her new mother's attitude only had the effect of making Hermione even more curious. "Mrs. Weasley? What's a 'Bonding', and why is it so serious?" she asked.
"Please call me Mum, dear," Molly said absently, still frowning at her errant daughter. "Hmm? Oh, the Bonding; it's a very old handfasting ritual, from a time when alliances between bloodlines were much more important than they are now. Both parties are supposed to be virgins, and they have to consummate their union within the Heartsite of the family the non-family member is joining," she explained.
"It sounds lovely, in a very old-fashioned sort of way," Hermione offered, but Molly shook her head.
"I'm sorry, dear; I keep forgetting you don't have the same background as we do. A Bonding is considered a very serious matter because it can be so easily be abused. So long as the conditions of the ceremony are met, the parties don't have to be…let's just say, not all such unions were willing ones; do you understand?"
"Oh," Hermione replied, finally understanding. She thought quietly for a moment. "But if it's willing, it's as effective as an adoption?"
"Hm? Oh, yes, rather moreso, actually; as I said, only the consent of the Blood family member is needed to perform the Bonding. The Handfasting holds for a year and a day, and while it lasts the Bonded couple share one Blood."
"So, if I could get Harry to agree to the ritual, he'd have the same protections as a Weasley while he was at the Burrow?" Hermione pressed, her thoughts racing ahead.
Ginny's eyes were widening as she followed Hermione's line of thought. "Herms, I was kidding!"
"Don't call me Herms," her new sister replied absently. "Mrs. Weasley…Mum, if I get Harry to agree, do you have any objections to my Bonding with Harry?"
Molly looked at her in surprise. "Dear, you aren't serious? Sex with someone you love is one thing, marriage is quite another! I'd think you would want to take things a bit slower…"
She thought her words over carefully before speaking. "Mum, I'd like nothing better than to take it slow. Just because I love Harry doesn't mean I want to jump right into making love to him…well, part of me does, I admit, but that's kind of beside the point.
"The point is, there's another war starting, and it's pretty clear that Harry is going to be a big part of it. He needs whatever help I can give him, and I…I love him too much to deny him anything I can do for him, whether he wants me to or not. So if marrying him means he's a little safer, or even better, means he never has to go near those relatives of his again, then yes. I'll marry him, if he'll have me."
Molly's eyes clouded a bit. "I'd forgotten about those awful Muggles for a moment," she admitted. "He's such a sweet boy, it's hard to believe anyone would mistreat him. Of course, Arthur told me what they were like, but are they really that bad?"
"Believe me, Mum, I don't think any of us know just how bad they are," Hermione replied, "but I have some idea; you knew his parents, how tall were they at Harry's age?"
Molly blinked at the apparent change of subject. "Why, Lily and James were both tall for their age," she answered after a minute. "James was a bit over six feet, and Lily no more than half a foot shorter…" Her face paled. "Ron was always asking for food to send him…" she whispered.
"Ron said he used to have terrible nightmares about them the first year or so," Ginny interjected. "After that, I guess they weren't so bad in comparison to other things…"
The older of the Weasley women reached a decision. "All right, dear, if he agrees to it, you have my permission, but he must agree, otherwise, you can't perform the Bonding! Is that clear?" At Hermione's eager nod, she continued, "Very well, here's what you have to do…"
~~~~~~
END FLASHBACK
~~~~~~
Harry shifted his gaze to his clearly upset girlfriend. "What is she talking about, Hermione?" he asked quietly, his tone very level. For the first time in a very long while Hermione was unable to read the expression in his eyes, and that more than anything scared her.
"I'm sorry, Harry," she said, her voice choking a little bit. "That's why I stopped out here, to explain to you. I wanted to tell you everything before, but I was afraid you'd say no, and I just wanted…I needed to help you, and this was the only way I could think of-"
Her tearful voice was cut off by Mrs. Weasley's outraged shriek. "Hermione Granger, how could you! You gave me your word, young woman! Your word!
Is this how you repay our trust, by abusing it this way? Trapping poor Harry into a Bonding without his consent?" Hermione tried to speak, but the outraged mother continued her rant. "I should have known; you were too insistent on learning how it worked, I should have guessed what you were up to! You didn't give Harry a chance to turn you down, you just did it!"
She tried to defend herself, but Molly was too wound up to let her speak. "And Ginny, did you even consider how she would feel about this? She's going to be so hurt, she stepped aside for you, I know she did, and this is how you betray her?"
"Mum, please-" Hermione finally managed to say, but was cut off by Molly slapping her face.
"No! You do not have the right to call me that!" Molly hissed, her eyes flashing at the shocked girl, the imprint of the older woman's hand a reddening mark on her tear-stained cheek. "Rita Skeeter was right, you are a Scarlet Woman…"
"That's enough." Harry stepped between the two women, his eyes flashing as he sheltered his girlfriend from Mrs. Weasley's anger. He'd managed to put a few things together during Molly's rant, and now he was ready to act. "Mrs. Weasley, Hermione and I obviously need to talk. I think she was about to explain everything to me when you came out to congratulate us; thank you, by the way. Now, if you'll give us some privacy, we can sort everything out."
"Now, Harry," Molly started, slipping into her mothering mode, "you don't have to concern yourself at all. This is partly my fault for trusting her in the first place." She missed or ignored his darkening expression as she continued, returning her glare to Hermione's shivering form. "We can't alter what's happened, but Handfasting only holds for a year and a day, and at least you'll be protected by the wards until then. Who knows, perhaps you and Ginny might get together after all, she'll be of age, and you'll be free of this trollop-"
"Molly. Shut. Up." Mrs. Weasley looked up in shock as Harry first used her Christian name and then told her off. "I love Hermione, and what's more, I trust her. If she says she had a good reason for what she did, I'm willing to hear her out. Given how smart she is, and how thick I can be, the odds are I'll end up agreeing with her, but even if I don't, that's between her and me, not you. Now, if I understand things correctly, I believe my…fiancée and I have a lot to talk about." With that he turned around and, taking Hermione by the arm, led her off into the garden, leaving a gaping Molly Weasley behind.
So wrapped were the three in their own confrontation, none of them noticed the trio of observers off in the shadows, the two shorter ones struggling with the agitated third. "I'll kill him," Ron snarled. "No one talks to my mum that way and gets away with it, not even Harry!"
"Ronald, calm down," Luna replied, her hands firmly gripping one of Ron's arms. "I may think that Hermione behaved in a very silly manner, but Harry is quite right, it is no one's business but theirs unless they choose otherwise."
"But he told Mum to shut it!" Ron said, outraged, earning a snort from the second short figure holding him.
"Be honest, Ron, haven't you wished you could say that, at least once?" Ginny asked, a touch of envy in her voice. "I'm a bit pissed at Hermione, myself, but Harry was not only right, he had the stones to say so. Mum will get over it, but we won't, not if she catches us listening in. Now come on, we have to get back inside before she recovers from the shock of learning Harry isn't a little boy any more…"
~~~~~~
Hermione tried to control the reaction tremors shivering along her nerves as Harry let her towards a private corner of the Burrow's garden, his strong arm around her waist catching her a couple of times when she stumbled. By the time they reached the arbor-sheltered bench towards which he'd directed their steps the worst of the shakes had passed, but she still felt the tears on her cheeks from the pain of Mrs. Weasley's accusations. She'd known that Molly would be mad at her when she found out just what Hermione had done, but she'd counted on having the chance to explain to Harry first, and hopefully having his acceptance, if not his forgiveness, before confessing to the older witch. Now she not only had to make Harry understand, she had to do so after he had seen his surrogate mother's reaction to her deception.
Once they were seated she tried to control her sniffling, but without much success; she always hated it when she cried, as much because of the blotchy mess it made of her face as the loss of control. Suddenly there was a ripping noise, and then Harry was extending a piece of material that she realized used to be his sleeve. "Harry, your shirt-!"
"It's one of Dudder's castoffs, don't worry about it," he replied, shrugging. "Now, blow," he directed, pushing the fabric into her hand.
Several snuffles and one loud honk later, Hermione wadded the now slightly damp piece of cloth in her hands and smiled faintly. "Thanks, Harry…for everything."
"Don't thank me yet," he cautioned, and she quailed slightly at his serious tone. "Just because I'm not willing to stand there and listen to Mrs. Weasley go off on you, doesn't mean I'm okay with all this."
There was still enough twilight that she could see his expression, and it wasn't one that filled her with self-confidence. Harry was clearly waiting for an explanation, and she knew it had better be a good one. "Where do you want me to start?" she asked quietly.
Harry snorted. "How about where you decided you had to deceive me to get me to have sex with you?" he asked acidly, some of his mood leaking into his tone, and she cringed slightly. No, this wasn't going to be easy.
"I didn't lie to you, Harry," she said at last, earning another snort from him in turn. "I may not have told you everything, but what I did tell you was the absolute truth. I do love you, I did want to make love to you, I didn't want to wait any longer, and the place we went to was the safest place to do it. I did just find out about the magical aspects of sex, and to the best of my knowledge, everything I told you about the first time witches and wizards make love was correct. We did release a lot of energy, and there was a very real chance that Voldemort could have used his connection with you to attack you while you were vulnerable."
She paused to gauge his reaction, and he slowly nodded. "I believe you," he said, and she let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding.
"You do?" she asked, her voice cracking a little in relief, and he nodded again.
"Yes, I do," he replied. "I'm not sure, but I think I'd know if you were lying to me; maybe it's a side effect of the, what was it, the Bonding. Or maybe it's just because, now that I finally realized that I, uh, love you, I can just tell when you're being honest. But yeah, I'm pretty sure you're not lying to me." He held up a hand when she started to hug him. "That doesn't mean as much as you think, Hermione. You didn't lie, but you didn't tell me everything, either. Why not? What, exactly, happened, and why didn't you warn me beforehand? Why didn't you trust me?" he asked, the pain of betrayal finally evident in his harsh voice.
She realized that she'd come to the moment of truth; if she couldn't explain herself to his satisfaction, not only would she destroy their newly found relationship, she might destroy their years-long friendship as well. She might lose him completely…
The idea hit her in the stomach like a fist. She hadn't even considered that possibility before. That he might be mad at her, yes, that he might resent her high-handedness, probably, but that he would be so hurt by her actions that he couldn't forgive her, that thought had never crossed her mind. 'I have to win his trust back' she thought. 'I have to make him understand.'
So she told him. She told him everything, starting from the end of the school year, when she'd begun to worry about him. She told him how desperate she'd been to get through to him, to comfort him, and how frustrated she'd been by her inability to break through his shell.
She told him of the conversation the day before (had it really only been that short a time?) when Luna suggested reaching Harry with sex; that had them both blushing for a minute, but she went gamely on with the narrative, how she had learned for the first time about the sexual aspects of magic and how it could affect them both. She told him how she admitted to Ginny her feelings, of discussing how best to approach him. She earned a brief chuckle when she described Luna's part of the plan, and her intentions towards 'Ronald', but the chuckle disappeared when she finally got to the part that involved Ginny and Mrs. Weasley, the suggestion and the offer they'd made, and her acceptance of it.
She paused at that point, and after a minute he prompted her. "So what happened? You managed to get through to me and wake me up to what I should have realized ages ago, and you managed to persuade me to make love to you…not that I needed a lot of persuading, I admit," he added quickly. "Why couldn't you just tell me that you wanted to perform the Bonding with me? Why didn't you trust me?"
She stayed silent long enough for him to start to fidget, and then she said quietly, "Because you didn't trust me, Harry."
Of all the things that had been running through his mind as possible reasons for her actions, that was the last he'd expected to hear, and it stunned him for a second. "What do you mean?" he demanded at last. "How can you say that? Of course I trust you!"
"Do you, Harry, do you really?" she asked, turning to face him. "Or do you just trust me with what you think I can handle?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," he replied, though his voice sounded defensive even to him.
"Don't you?" she asked again, irritating him by her insistence. "What happened in Professor Dumbledore's office? What did he say to you after we returned from the Department of Mysteries? What haven't you told me, Harry?"
"Don't try and change the subject," he said, trying desperately to divert her. "We were talking about the way you deceived me-"
"We were talking about trust, if I recall," she threw back at him. "You asked me why I didn't trust you with the truth about the ritual. I'm trying to explain it to you."
"The two things are completely unrelated!" he said hotly. "What the professor told me doesn't concern you-"
"Don't tell me what does or does not concern me, Harry James Potter!" she snapped back, interrupting him again. "You're my friend, you're my best friend, who not incidentally also happens to be the boy I love! Anything that affects you as much as whatever it was the professor said, concerns me! I've been trying to get you to talk to me about it for weeks, and you…didn't…trust…me." She realized her fists were clenched against her thighs and made a conscious effort to relax them, stretching her palms out flat against her legs. Finally, in a calmer voice, she continued.
"Can you understand how I felt, Harry? My best friend, the boy I'd been in love with for over a year, was in pain. He'd lost the closest thing he had left to a father, and I knew he was blaming himself for it, and he wouldn't let me help him grieve. Not only that, but something new and even worse was eating away at him, and he not only wouldn't talk about it, he denied there was anything wrong at all!
"I was getting desperate, I admit that," she said, staring off into the now dark night, her face faintly illuminated by the light shining from the windows of the Burrow. "You were slipping away from us, pushing us out of your life, and it terrified me. I could've accepted it if you had opened up to someone else, to Ron, or Ginny or even Luna, but I knew you weren't talking to anyone. You were distancing yourself, as if you were getting ready to…to say goodbye.
"I used to have a cousin," she said after a pause, startling him with the change of subject. "She was six years older than me, and used to babysit me when I was younger." She paused again and swallowed. "When I was about nine, she started having…problems. She became moody and sullen, and snapped at anyone who tried to talk to her. Mum and Dad told her parents they should take her to a counselor, but they insisted she was just going through a phase." Her eyes turned to Harry's, and his breath caught at the pain there. "Two weeks after my tenth birthday she committed suicide."
Harry jerked as if slapped. "Gods, Hermione…"
She shook her head. "Harry, when you started withdrawing, it was like seeing my cousin all over again. I couldn't help her, but I had to help you." She reached out tentatively with her hand to his, and when he didn't jerk away, gripped his fingers with hers. "When Ginny and Mrs. Weasley 'adopted' me so I could use the circle, I just planned on doing exactly what I told you; seeing if you cared for me, and if you did, seeing if I could convince you to make love to me. I thought if we became lovers you'd have to talk to me sooner or later, if only because, as Luna put it, 'if he has enough sex he'll be thinking about living, so he can have even more sex.'" She smiled, and Harry chuckled at the image of Luna saying just that.
"And then Ginny mentioned the Bonding, and wouldn't it be great if you and I Bonded so we could all be Weasleys together. Mum-Mrs. Weasley was doubtful at first, but Ginny convinced her that I really did love you that much, and that she thought you felt the same way, even if you were too thick to realize it. So Mrs. Weasley taught me the ritual. It helped that we were both…untouched. The oldest, simplest form of the ritual counts on that; it made it easier for me to…"
"Pull a fast one?" Harry asked, his voice sounding a bit less stressed.
Hermione looked at the ground again. "I didn't set out to trick you, Harry, I swear it. I was going to wait until we were at the circle to explain everything, but originally I had every intention of trying to persuade you to accept the Bonding willingly. But as we were walking though the woods, I started remembering just what the summer had been like and…I panicked. There's no other word for it, Harry; I just panicked. I became sure that not only would you refuse to accept the Bonding, you'd be so upset with me for asking you'd break off with me."
Even in the faint light from the Burrow he could see her blush. "I remember what you said at the lake, Harry, and it was sweet, but…I know I'm not pretty, not like some of the other girls…no, don't interrupt, please," she said as he opened his mouth to object. "Did my telling you to stop feeling guilty take away all the pain you were feeling?" she asked, and when he unwillingly shook his head, she nodded, "Well, the same holds true for me. I may believe you when you tell me you think I'm pretty; I might even believe it myself someday, if I hear it often enough. But right then, I was the bushy-haired, bucktoothed know-it-all everyone teased, and I was sure all it'd take would be a moment's hesitation and you'd change your mind. So, I decided that transferring the wards and freeing you from the Dursleys was more important than taking that risk, even if you ended up hating me. I talked you into making love to me, I spoke the charm…and then I asked you to forgive me."
Forgive me, Harry…
He'd heard her say that in the circle. He'd forgotten it, wrapped up in the moment, but he remembered it now, and felt something ease inside him. She'd known the chance she was taking, even then, that she might be shattering what they had between them in an effort to keep him safe. Something he'd read once, a long time ago, surfaced in his thoughts, that one of the measures of how much you loved someone was how willing you were to sacrifice your own happiness for the happiness of the person you loved. Hermione loved him enough to risk losing him; what he had to ask himself, was hanging on to stupid pride worth what it might cost him in return? Did he even need to ask himself that? "So what now?" he asked her instead.
"I guess that's up to you," she whispered, her voice tiny. "I hope we can still be friends, but I'll understand if…" she couldn't finish, and waited as he cleared his throat and began to slowly speak.
"That night, after the Department of Mysteries, when all of you were being patched up in the hospital wing…Professor Dumbledore used a portkey to send me directly to his office. When he arrived, he told me a lot of things, some of which I don't really remember. What I do remember, though, is what he told me about what he heard in a room at the Hog's Head Inn, a little over sixteen years ago…"
~~~~~~
AUTHOR'S NOTE PART II - Not the end, not yet, though the major questions have been answered at this point. Yes, this means that Harry understands why she did what she did, and accepts it in the spirit in which it was intended.
At least one more chapter, maybe more as the muse strikes me. Please don't ask or expect the next chapters to come as fast as this one, though I admit a steady diet of reviews feed the creative fires better than anything…