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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Chapter Six - Deal With It
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Some time later, as the couple approached the inviting lights of the Burrow, they were met by a figure stepping out of the shadows. Instinctively Harry went for his wand, but before he could fire off a hex, Hermione's hand covered his, restraining him. "Good evening, Mr. Weasley."
Arthur Weasley stepped further into the light, glancing behind him at his home as he did so. "And good evening to you, Hermione; Ginny asked me to give this to you, she said you looked like you might be a bit chilly." As all she was wearing was her bikini and the oversized tee shirt, the robe the Weasley patriarch handed her were both welcome and warm. After she was bundled up, he continued, "Oh, and I believe, from what my youngest daughter said, that you should be calling me 'Dad' now?"
Hermione flushed and looked downward. "Not according to Mrs. Weasley," she replied in a voice filled with pain. She hadn't realized just how much the older witch's good opinion meant to her until she'd lost it, and this time, unlike their fourth year when Molly had fallen for the gossip Rita Skeeter had written, Hermione knew that she had grounds for her displeasure. That Harry seemed to be all right with what she'd done was irrelevant; she'd given her word, and she'd broken it.
She felt Harry's arm tighten around her shoulders, offering her his comfort and support, and she smiled thankfully up at him. 'This is what's important,' she thought. She could accept whatever censure Mrs. Weasley offered, so long as he was safe and they were together. In the long run, nothing else mattered to her.
Arthur Weasley watched the silent exchange, reading the emotions written plainly on their faces, and cleared his throat. "Yes, as to that…I certainly don't condone Molly slapping you, Hermione, and I've already told her so, I promise you. However, as to why she struck you…no doubt you've heard about the famous, or perhaps it should be infamous 'Weasley temper'…" At their blushes, he smiled. "I'll take that as a yes. What most people don't realize is that we Weasleys have two very different tempers; there's the temper of our family line, slow to build up, and slower to cool off. The way we feel about Dark wizards like the Malfoys is a good example of the classic Weasley temper at its finest.
"Unfortunately, there's another, less attractive form it takes; it flares up hot and fast, and isn't nearly as…discriminating. You've both known Ron since your first year at Hogwarts, so you know how, um, unreasonable he can be when he's mad about something. That's that other temper I was talking about, one Ron has in full measure, a trait in which I'm afraid he takes after his mother."
He sighed, running his hand through his hair. "Hermione, the reasons you chose to break your promise to my wife are between you and Harry, and to an extent, between you and Molly. From what I can see, you've managed to explain yourself to Harry's satisfaction…" Harry nodded when Arthur paused, his body language making his feelings for his bushy-haired girlfriend crystal clear to the older man. "I'm very glad to hear that; I have no doubt that you two will be very happy together. Explaining yourself to Molly, though…"
"It's not really her business, Mr. Weasley," Harry interjected, but Arthur shook his head.
"I'm afraid it is, more than either of you knows. You see, there is a very good reason my wife feels as strongly as she does about the Bonding, especially about it being performed without one of the party's knowledge, or against their will." He seemed to be considering his choice of words carefully as he proceeded. "How much do the two of you know about Pureblood family traditions?" he asked.
"Nothing to speak of, really," Harry said, shrugging, while Hermione added, "I've read a few things that mentioned them in passing, but nothing in detail."
"Hm. Well, you're aware at least that some families place great store in Pure bloodlines, believing that someone like Hermione, or Harry's mother, Lily, would somehow 'taint' their blood?" He smiled at their nods and Harry's darkened expression. "Silly prejudice, I agree, but it does exist. The problem is, that there aren't really all that many truly Pure lines any more, and those that do still keep to those ways are so intermarried that sometimes it's hard to find a suitable match." Here Mr. Weasley frowned. "So hard in fact, that some families don't leave it up to chance."
Harry looked puzzled, but dawning comprehension appeared on Hermione's face. "You're talking about arranged marriages, aren't you?"
"Yes, I'm afraid I am," Mr. Weasley admitted. "They aren't as common as they used to be, and in most cases the children involved are brought up believing that it's the way things are supposed to be done, so while they might not be thrilled with the idea, they go along with it. Sometimes, though, on rare occasions, one of the intended resists, and it can get…unpleasant. Molly's mother was one of those cases."
At Hermione's gasp his eyes met hers. "Molly's mother was named Hypatia Woodwright; her family, while not as well-known as the Blacks or as old as the Weasleys, are still considered to be very respectable, with Pure bloodlines going back many generations. When she was a year old, her parents signed a marriage contract promising her to the youngest son of the Prewitt family, Jonathan Prewitt. They lived near enough to each other that both families assumed they'd grow up knowing of the plans, and would accept them.
"Everything was fine until it came time for the children to go to school. Jonathan went to Hogwarts as expected, but Hypatia's father had taken a job on the Continent, which forced the family to move, with the result that Hypatia went to school at Beauxbatons. And it was there that she met a young Muggleborn wizard named Jacques Frontenac…they became the best of friends, and later, fell in love."
"Why do I get the feeling that her parents weren't terribly thrilled by the idea," Harry muttered.
"Not terribly thrilled is an understatement," Arthur replied sadly. "They managed to keep their feelings secret for some time, but while on summer holiday after sixth year, they were discovered. Hypatia told her parents that she loved Jacques and wanted to marry him, but they refused to listen, and immediately moved back to England, dragging her with them.
"If her parents were upset, the Prewitts were furious. Under the terms of the contract, they demanded Hypatia be examined to make sure she was 'untouched', and when it was determined that she was indeed still a virgin, they insisted she marry Jonathan at once or face breach of contract."
"That's terrible!" Hermione cried, aghast, and Arthur nodded.
"Yes, it was terrible," he agreed, "and barbaric, and a host of other things the wizarding world could well do without, but unfortunately, it was also completely legal. A wizard marriage contract is binding unless both families agree to dissolve it, and the Prewitts refused to do so. What's more, Jonathan was convinced it was his duty to go along…and he did love Hypatia. He convinced himself she was just infatuated with Jacques, and that once they were married, she would get over it.
"On Hypatia's sixteenth birthday, she was brought by her parents to the Prewitts' ancestral home, where they escorted her and Jonathan to the Heartsite. Her mother gave her a potion that she claimed would make the experience less unpleasant, and foolishly, Hypatia believed her.
"You see, she believed that if she went through with the Bonding, and stayed with Jonathan for the period of the Handfasting, the contract would be satisfied and she'd be free to leave. What she didn't know was that the potion her mother gave her was a fertility potion, and the night of the Bonding, she conceived. When she found out she was pregnant, she realized that she had no choice but to stay in the marriage; otherwise, under the terms of the contract she would lose all parental rights over her unborn child. So she wrote to Jacques and told him she could never see him again, and so far as anyone knows, she never did."
Hermione was openly crying now as Harry asked, "How is it that you know all this, sir?"
"Well, like Ginny, Molly was Hypatia's only daughter, though she has several brothers. When her mother passed away, Molly inherited her personal effects, and among them were her diaries where she'd written it all down, starting when she was around nine and going forward until a short time before her death, when she became too ill to write." Arthur shook his head. "Molly was devastated by the discovery; she'd always thought her parents were happy together. Not overly demonstrative, but content and in love. We were married then, with Bill and Charley toddlers and Percy on the way. Molly confronted her father with the diaries, and he admitted everything. He swore he'd loved his wife, and done everything he could to make her happy, but Molly would have none of it. She hasn't spoken to him since, or to her grandparents.
"No wonder she was so upset with me," Hermione sighed. "I must have brought all those memories back to the surface…"
Harry frowned. "That's still no excuse for what she called you," Harry muttered, "or for slapping you, love."
Arthur cleared his throat. "There's one last thing; when Molly had her confrontation with her father, and found out that everything in her mother's diaries was true, she swore on her mother's memory that neither she nor any child of hers would ever be party to such an act. So, when she realized you'd performed the Bonding on Harry without explaining it to him first…" he trailed off, leaving Hermione to finish.
"Oh, no; I not only broke my promise to her, I broke hers to her mother! No wonder she hates me!" she cried, her face in her hands as Harry pulled her close.
"She doesn't hate you, Hermione," Mr. Weasley said, sighing when she threw him a look of utter disbelief. "She's hurt, and yes, she's disappointed that you broke your word to her-I know, I'm sure you believe you had good reason to do it, but Molly doesn't see that, at least not yet. Give her some time to cool down a bit, and I'm sure you'll be able to patch things up between you."
Hermione nodded gratefully, but Harry's expression was less happy. "Mr. Weasley," he said, obviously choosing his words carefully, "I know it's up to your wife and my fiancée to work things out between them, but I won't stand by and watch if Mrs. Weasley insults or abuses Hermione again, especially since it's partly my fault that the strain between them exists. I hope you can understand that."
"Harry, this has nothing to do with you!" Hermione scolded. "Mrs. Weasley is angry because I broke my word-"
"Which you wouldn't have had to do if I wasn't being a colossal prat," Harry interjected with a grimace.
"Harry, I understand why now…" she replied, her eyes softening, but he just shook his head.
"No, Hermione; I won't interfere so long as she remains civil, but another outburst like the one earlier tonight and I'll…"
He hesitated, and Arthur spoke into the silence, not liking the direction the conversation was going. "You'll what, Harry?"
Harry shifted his gaze to the older man, and the sight of his frown seemed to stiffen his resolve. "If Hermione's not welcome under this roof, than neither am I. I love your wife, sir; she's the closest thing to a real mum I've ever had, but she'd better not ask me to choose between her and Hermione, because she won't like the answer."
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Despite the combined efforts of both Hermione and Mr. Weasley, Harry remained adamant; he would not stand idly by and watch the girl who was to all intents and purposes his wife be treated with anything less than the respect he felt she deserved. And no matter how frustrated she felt by this latest example of his 'saving-people-thing', she couldn't deny feeling a little thrill from it as well, knowing he cared that much about her.
Finally, after exacting a promise that they would at least try and keep the peace in the house intact until tempers had cooled a bit, Mr. Weasley departed with a vague mention of attending to Order business in Edinburgh. With a bit of trepidation, the young lovers braced themselves and finally entered the Burrow proper.
To their surprise, the comfortable living room where everyone normally congregated of an evening was deserted; apparently tensions were running high enough that everyone had called it an evening early, leaving any confrontations for the hopefully calmer tempers that would prevail after a good night's rest. On a positive note, they found two covered dishes piled high with Mrs. Weasley's wonderful cooking waiting for them under a warming charm, so whatever upset she felt didn't extend to depriving them of food and shelter, at least not yet. Still, neither of them felt particularly hungry despite the day's exertions, and after a desultory attempt at eating that consisted mostly of pushing various savory morsels around on their plates, they cleaned up and headed for the stairs and bed.
Once at the top of the stairs, Hermione gave Harry a quick peck on the cheek turned to go to the room she shared with Ginny and Luna, only to be pulled into his arms with a muffled squeak. "Harry! What are you doing?" she hissed, only to have her question answered by his mouth covering hers. After a moment's resistance she melted against him, enjoying the feel of his arms around her, and reveling in the knowledge that he was hers, Hermione Granger's, and no one else's…and she was one witch who had no intention of sharing.
The kiss didn't end until oxygen became an issue, and even then she continued to cling to him, not quite ready to trust her knees just yet. "That's not fair," she muttered. "How am I supposed to go sleep in a bed by myself after you get me all wound up like that?"
"You? What about me?" he growled, pressing up against her and showing her just how affected he was by her. "On top of which, I have to sleep with the Human Chainsaw," he grumbled, though his heart wasn't really in it. Even with situation with Mrs. Weasley hanging over their heads, not to mention all the other drama that was part and parcel of their lives, the simple fact that the girl in his arms not only loved him, but loved him enough to throw all caution to the winds and make the ultimate commitment to him, made it all bearable. No, not just bearable, but desirable. For the first time he could remember, he thought that maybe, just maybe, it wasn't such a bad thing to be Harry Potter…
He was brought out of his daydream by the feel of two small hands sliding up his neck and tousling his hair. Smiling, he bent and tasted her lips again, a softer, gentler kiss than the last one, but with no less feeling in it. Then she was slipping out of his embrace, eliciting a groan of frustration as her hand 'accidentally' brushed across his arousal in passing. "Pleasant dreams, Harry," she whispered, a wicked gleam in her eyes as she disappeared around the corner to her room.
Muttering under his breath that any dreams he had now were likely to have certain messy side effects, Harry turned his steps towards Ron's room at the end of the hall. When he opened the door, any worries he had about such problems were knocked out of his head by the sight of his best mate glowering at him, obviously in a serious snit about something. "H'lo, Ron," Harry said cautiously.
"Hey, Harry," his friend replied, "You and Hermione get stuff sorted out?"
Harry started at the question, but then realized that someone in the Burrow must have filled Ron in on what was going on between his two best friends. Thinking he was upset over the relationship, he answered, "Ron, I know you fancied Hermione a bit; but-"
"I don't care about that, you prat!" Ron snapped, startling Harry further.
"You don't? Then why are you-?" Harry started to ask when Ron cut him off.
"I want to know where you get off telling my mum to shut up!"
"Oh. That." Harry ran his hand through his hair and sighed. He hadn't known anyone else was watching that particular confrontation, but maybe in the long run it would help. "Ron, mate…look, I don't know if you will understand; hell, I don't understand some of what I'm feeling. But I do understand that I love Hermione, and I won't sit back and watch her being hurt and do nothing. Now she and your mum have some issues to thrash out, the sooner the better for everyone, but it's not going to happen if your mum goes spare every time she sees her." He waited for Ron's reaction, but when none was forthcoming he asked, "So, you going to punch me for talking back to your mum?"
"Thought about it," Ron admitted, and for a second it seemed a smirk was fighting with his frown for dominance.
"What did you decide?" Harry asked, earning a shrug from his friend.
"I haven't yet; I'm still thinking," he admitted.
Figuring that was the best he could hope for at the moment, Harry moved to his part of the room and started getting ready for bed. "Well, let me know when you make up your mind, okay?"
This time Ron did laugh. "Trust me, mate, you'll be the first to know." They went through their nightly routines, with Harry disappearing for a few minutes for a much-needed shower. He returned to find Ron already in bed, and the lights dimmed. As Harry climbed into his own bed, Ron spoke quietly. "Hey, Harry, one thing I did decide…"
"What's that, Ron?"
"Mum may be upset, but that doesn't change things between us. Hermione's not just my friend; she's my sister now. Hurt her and you won't have to worry about You-Know-Who, 'cause I'll kill you myself."
Harry just snorted. "Ron, if I'm stupid enough to do that, I'll probably ask you to do it. Tell you what, if I ever hurt her, I'll hold still while you break my Firebolt over my head. Fair enough?"
"Fair enough," Ron agreed. He was quiet for a minute, and then said, "I'm still pissed about Mum, though."
Harry just grunted an acknowledgement, and Ron accepted it as a sign that, at least for the moment, the conversation was over.
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Meanwhile, at the other end of the hall, a very different conversation was playing itself out. Hermione had opened the door to Ginny's room, not to discover two sleeping girls as she had expected, but two wide-awake roommates who were apparently waiting for Hermione with questions to which only she could provide the answers.
Before she could even voice her surprise, Ginny began the Inquisition. "I'm guessing from that liplock I saw at the top of the stairs that you and Harry sorted out any questions he had about the Bonding?" she asked with a smirk, bouncing on her bed in her excitement.
"Wh-what? You were watching us? Earlier, too?" Hermione stammered, thrown off balance by her friend's blatant admission.
"Of course," Ginny shrugged. "How else do you think I survived growing up with six older brothers? The only way to hold my own was to snag every bit of blackmail I could. Now then…talk! Is Harry as good a kisser as it looked?"
"I don't know what you mean," Hermione evaded, but Ginny just laughed.
"I mean it looked like you were about ready to shag him right there in the hallway, that's what I mean." She giggled as Hermione started to blush. "Aha! I knew it! He is a good kisser!"
"Well, it's not like I have a lot to judge by, but I certainly think so," Hermione admitted with a smile, her expression going a bit dreamy.
Ginny squeed, her hands in front of her mouth to keep the volume down. "Oooh, I knew it! I am sooo jealous right now; you're awfully lucky you're my sister, otherwise I might have had to try and steal him from you!"
Hermione's smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. "Ginny, about that…I'm sorry I broke my promise about the Bonding, really I am…I just had to do it, there was no other way…"
To her complete surprise, Ginny just shrugged. "Mum's the one who's upset about it, not me. I figure so long as Harry's okay with it, it's not anyone else's business but yours…He is okay with it, isn't he?" When Hermione nodded slightly, she smiled. "Then I am, too. So you cut a few corners; he's happy and you're happy, that's what matters isn't it?"
"But your mum…" Hermione started, but Ginny stopped her.
"Our mum, remember? Sure she's upset with you; she wouldn't be our mum if she weren't. But so long as Harry's not mad about the Bonding, she'll get over it eventually." Her smile took on a wicked gleam. "Besides, it's probably a good idea for her to get used to the idea that you two make up your own minds about stuff, that way she won't kick up too much of a fuss when you two sneak off and shag like bunnies…how about that, anyway? Does he shag as well as he snogs?"
"I can't believe you just asked that!" Hermione gasped, turning bright red.
"I can't, either," the dreamy voice of their roommate added as Luna finally joined the conversation. "You know perfectly well that a wizard's magical and sexual potency are closely related. Given how powerful Harry is, I'm rather surprised Hermione can even walk. Are you terribly sore, or did you already take a potion?"
Ginny quirked an eyebrow at her furiously blushing sister. "Y'know, now that Luna mentions it, I'm kind of wondering about that myself…just how stiff are you, or should I ask, how stiff is Harry?"
"I'm not stiff at all, I mean, Harry's not-ooh!" Hermione stamped in frustration as Ginny snickered.
Luna's next comment didn't do much to raise the tone of the discussion, not that that really came as any surprise. "Really? How very odd…oh well, I have heard it said that size doesn't matter; I'm sure Harry makes up for his shortcomings in some other manner."
Hermione stuttered as she tried to think of a way to defend her fiancé's sexual prowess that would dig her any deeper in the hole. Ginny, however, was operating under no such handicap. One eyebrow arched quizzically, she said, "I seem to recall that you had some plans involving my brother, Luna. Should we be asking you how stiff you are while we're at it?"
Luna shrugged, as unphased by Ginny's blunt question as she was by everything else that happened around her. "You can ask, but you'll be disappointed to find out I'm not sore at all. I'm afraid that Ronald was the soul of propriety, and refused to take full advantage of what I offered to him; it really was rather distressing in a flattering sort of way."
The youngest Weasley goggled as the meaning of Luna's convoluted statement sunk in. "You mean my brother actually turned down sex? I don't believe it!"
"More or less," Luna confirmed. "For some odd reason, he felt he would be taking advantage of me…quite silly of me not to expect that of him, but one so seldom encounters the knightly virtues these days, does one?"
"So you and Ron didn't…?" Ginny's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Then why did he have such a funny look on his face when you got back to the Burrow? For that matter, why did you ask my mum if she had any muscle-relaxing potion?"
"Oh, that was for my jaw," Luna said nonchalantly, idly rotating it in a manner that made it frighteningly clear just what sort of activity had led to her problem.
The two newly minted sisters looked at each other as, unbidden, the image of their brother's activities with Luna was conjured by their imaginations. "Ewww!"
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With a muffled cry Harry snapped awake from the nightmare, as usual his heart pounding and his nightclothes soaked in sweat. It took a few minutes, but gradually his pulse slowed and his breathing eased, allowing him to review the images that had been playing in his brain during the dream. When he did, he discovered that for once his nightmares could be called normal, so much so that he was almost comforted by them. Instead of the usual horrific visions of his past or glimpses of Voldemort's blood-soaked plans for the future, his nightmare was one about normal teenage insecurities. In it he was back at the lake, only this time when Hermione approached him in her skimpy bikini he froze, unable to say or do anything as she gave up and swam away. It was the image of her diving off the platform and leaving him behind that snapped him awake, and he found it calmed him immeasurably when he remembered that she was just a few doors away, and if they'd both had their choice would have been closer still.
That last thought, comforting as it was in some areas was disturbing in others, so much so that he finally gave up on sleep for the moment and headed down to the kitchen to see if he could scrounge a snack. Upon descending the stairs, Harry discovered that the kitchen in fact was not deserted; someone else was having a sleepless night. Harry paused at the sight of the person sitting at the table with a cup of tea in their hands, and then shrugged inwardly. "Hello, Mrs. Weasley."
Molly jumped a bit at his voice, a little of her chamomile tea slopping over the rim of her cup. "Goodness, Harry, you startled me! What's the matter, trouble sleeping?"
"Just a bit," he admitted, shrugging. "Too much on my mind I guess."
Molly frowned, setting her cup aside. "Dear, if you're unhappy with what that silly girl did to you, I'm sure we can find some way to-"
"She's not a silly girl," Harry said forcefully, interrupting her. "Mrs. Weasley, I know you're upset with Hermione; she told me what she'd promised you, so I guess you have a good reason to be mad at her. But please, don't let one mistake on her part, no matter how much it hurt you, sour your opinion of her. She deserves better than that from you…and you deserve better than that from you."
"What do you mean?" Molly asked, puzzled by his statement.
Harry paused, trying to find a way to put what he felt into words. Finally, he said, "I never knew what a mum was supposed to be like until that first time I met you at King's Cross Station. I was completely lost, had no clue what I was doing or where I was going, and with a few words and a smile you made it all better. When it came to understanding what being a mum meant, I learned more from you in five minutes than I learned from Aunt Petunia in ten years. Even when you yelled at Fred and George, or sent a Howler to Ron, I could tell the difference between how you acted and the way my aunt does. She only cared about whether something I did affected her precious 'appearances', you get angry with your children because you're worried about them."
"I'm hardly the perfect mum, Harry," Molly replied, shifting uncomfortably under his praise. To her surprise, he nodded in agreement.
"I know that now; you make mistakes, just like anyone else. The funny thing is, for some reason your biggest mistakes seem to always involve Hermione." She flushed as he continued, "First, when you believed Skeeter's lies and sent her that Howler, calling her a 'Scarlet Woman'-"
"I did apologize for that…" she started to say, but he just kept going.
"And then last night, when you slapped her, and told her she was a trollop for deceiving me." He waited, trying to gauge her reaction to his blunt words as she refused to meet his eyes. He realized from her expression that she was holding back some caustic remark, and he sighed. "The thing is, both times you've been mad at Hermione, it seems like it was because you thought she'd done something to hurt me, and both times nothing could've been further from the truth. During the tournament, you thought she was playing with my feelings, when in fact she was being the best friend anyone could ever hope to have…if not for her, I probably wouldnt've made it through alive.
"She didn't deserve to have her name dragged through the mud by the Daily Prophet, she didn't deserve to get hate mail from complete strangers who fell for their lies, and she especially didn't deserve to be treated that way by someone who knew her, and who's…who's probably the closest thing to a real mum I'll ever have."
"Harry, dear…" Molly sniffled, but he just held up his hand.
"Please, Mrs. Weasley, let me finish. The point is, as wrong as you were then, it's not a patch on how wrong you are now. She's…Hermione's everything to me; she makes me want to be the person I need to be, just to be worthy of her. People are always going on about how brave I am, but that's all rubbish. I'm not brave; all those things I did, I just did because I had to in order to stay alive. Hermione didn't have to risk herself for me again and again; she chose to do it. She chose to do it out of friendship, and…out of love."
The tone of his voice became wondering as he continued, "I still have a hard time believing how lucky I am. Hermione could have her pick of blokes if she wanted; she's smart, and pretty, and…and I don't even have the words, other than she's too good for me…but she loves me, and what's more, I love her, more than I thought was possible."
"Are you sure it's love, Harry?" Molly asked quietly. "It seems awfully sudden, are you sure it's not just…?"
"Not just sex?" he asked with a slight flush as she nodded. "I suppose we'll get that question a lot, but no, it's not just…that. I know it seems sudden, but is it, really? I mean, yeah, I only just realized what it was I felt for her, but the feelings themselves have been there a while; I was just too thick to realize what they were. As for the Bonding thing, I'm glad she did what she did. She always knows what I need better than I do, even when it would be easier to just let me screw things up. The day she became my friend was the luckiest day of my life, up until yesterday. If she's crazy enough to be in love with me, I'm going to do the smartest thing I've ever done and hang on for dear life…and as long as she wants me, she's got me, no matter what anyone says." Harry's gaze darkened, and Molly paled a bit a she realized that there was very little left of the young boy she thought of as one of her own. "Don't make me choose between you, Mrs. Weasley; you won't like the answer…"
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AUTHOR'S NOTE - Not as long as the last couple, I know, but this felt right as a chapter break, so there it is. I still have a number of events to cover, up through and possibly including their return to school. A number of people have yet to learn about the change in Harry and Hermione's relationship, including her parents and of course Dumbledore. Harry's given Molly a lot to think about, too, and then there's that pesky prophecy…and Ron and Luna still are figuring out just what their relationship is all about.
Please review, I love hearing from my readers, and if you want to criticize, I welcome constructive criticism…don't just say "It's Crap!", say why you think so, and SIGN IT. Unsigned and/or anonymous flames will be deleted….more to follow as soon as I can get it done, I promise…