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 Seven - Morning After Meanderings
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The next morning Harry was awakened by an odd sensation tickling his nose. Grumbling, he batted in irritation at whatever was brushing against him, only to be rewarded by the sound of a giggle. It took a second for what he'd just heard to penetrate his sleep-fogged brain, but when it did his eyes snapped open to the sight of a mass of bushy, brown hair looming over him. "Hermione? What are you doing in here?" he asked, his thoughts still disjointed.
"Waiting for you to wake up, sleepyhead," she replied with a chuckle. The intimate tone of her voice finally triggered his recollections of the previous day, and he found himself grinning up at her as he stretched. "Sorry to keep you waiting."
Scooting until he was sitting up in bed facing his more-than-girlfriend, Harry noticed the bright morning light streaming in the window, as well as the relative silence of the Burrow even though the door to his room stood open. "Where is everyone?" he asked, picking his glasses up from the nightstand.
Hermione shrugged noncommittally. "Luna dragged 'Ronald' off early, something about looking for a nest of Long-Nosed Hornswoggles or Vermicious Kanichts in the woods. Mr. Weasley's at work at the Ministry, of course, and Ginny told me she and her mum had a number of errands to run on Diagon Alley, getting a head start on some of her back to school shopping, and won't be back until this afternoon."
Harry blinked, and then smiled slowly, taking in her (in his opinion) adorably sleep-rumpled appearance; the lightweight camisole-and-shorts set she was using for her pyjamas was as modest as anything she might have worn on a warm summer day, rather more so considering how snug Muggle fashions had become of late, but the thought of what the lightweight cotton fabric was covering was enough to make his pulse quicken. "So, we're all alone in the house, just the two of us?"
She caught the direction his thoughts were obviously heading, and blushed. "Really, Harry, is that all you can think about? Besides, I'm hungry."
"So am I…"
"For breakfast! Honestly!"
He laughed and shook his head. "All right, go get changed; I'll grab a shower, get dressed and meet you downstairs; if there's nothing left over, I can whip us up something to eat." He waited until she started to stand and leaned over, planting a swat on her pert bottom, earning a squeak in return.
"Harry! Behave yourself, or…"
"Ah-ah-ah! 'Love, honor and obey', remember?" he said, wagging a finger at her in mock warning.
Hermione just sniffed. "That's the Muggle ceremony, it has nothing to do with the Bonding. Besides, that last bit's fallen out of fashion even for Muggles."
"Mmm, pity, that," he smirked as he swung his legs out of bed, earning a huff from his girlfriend. She stomped off, or tried to the best she could in the cute little sock booties she was wearing. Shrugging, he grabbed a change of clothes and headed for the bath and the revivifying powers of a hot shower.
A little while later, as Harry leaned against the wall of the shower and let the just shy of scalding water beat on his head, he felt a sudden draft of cool air on his back. Before he could react, two small hands slid across his chest from behind, and two small, firm breasts pressed against the middle of his back, their nipples sending trickles of fire along his nerves. "H-Hermione, what on earth-?" he gasped as her hands wandered lower.
"I decided a shower sounded like a great way to start the day," she murmured, her mouth tilting upwards his as he turned within her arms. The only good thing about being nearsighted, Harry decided as he leaned in to brush his lips against hers, was that without his glasses Hermione's features actually came into sharp focus as they kissed, not a trifling matter as he loved to lose himself in the warm, brown depths of her eyes. Her complexion was flawless, free of the blemishes that plagued girls who wore too much makeup too early in life, and the only wrinkle he'd ever noticed was a tiny crease between her brows, a souvenir of long hours poring over the crabbed printing in some of the older texts in the school's library. Her one concession to vanity seemed to be a combination lip-gloss and moisturizer, which he'd only recently discovered tasted of strawberries, a flavor oddly appropriate as an appetizer for starting the day.
As their kiss deepened he felt his body responding to her nearness, his stiffening erection brushing against her stomach as she molded herself to him. By the time they separated, her hair hung in drenched ringlets instead of its usual bushy waves, framing her face in a different, but as far as he was concerned, even more charming manner. He reached up and tucked a few damp strands behind her ear, earning a smile from her in turn. Her eyes traveled downwards to where his arousal was making its presence known, and then to his horror, she…giggled. His body's reaction was automatic and unavoidable. "Oops," Hermione said, her eyes meeting his with a wicked gleam. "Sorry, Harry, I didn't mean to frighten him away…" Her hand matched her words, seeking out and coaxing his flagging resolve back to full attention.
"Then why'd you…ohhh, never mind," he moaned as her hands continued to prove that books and cleverness weren't all that terrible a combination after all.
When she was sure he wasn't about to fade on her again, and after another very heated and oxygen-deprived kiss, she murmured, "If you must know, I was just thinking how much 'Loony' Lovegood deserves her nickname…'shortcomings' indeed!"
At that point Harry didn't really care all that much why she'd laughed, now that he'd been reassured that she hadn't been laughing at him. His hands began to demonstrate their cleverness as well, until she became rather insistent that he 'get on with it'. Harry was only too happy to oblige, the dampness of the shower combining with the wetness of Hermione's arousal to make seating himself within her simplicity itself, despite the slight awkwardness of their positions. Hermione gasped a little as the angle of his penetration stretched her in new and delightful ways, the crown of his penis pressing upwards within her to touch what she suspected might be the place some of her texts had called a 'g spot'. Whatever it was, it felt incredible, and she wanted more…
Using her arms around his neck to support her weight, she lifted her legs and locked them around his hips, giving him even greater access to her as he settled into a slow, patient rhythm, rocking his hips into hers in a manner that soon drove her to the peak and beyond, her nails digging into his shoulders as she cried out his name. Harry slowed, giving her time to control her shuddering muscles before he picked up the rhythm again, this time increasing his pace as his own climax neared. He felt her muscles tightening around him a second time and the feeling dragged him over the top as well, his seed spilling into her as the water from the shower continued to beat down on their intertwined bodies.
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Much later, after several more intriguing variations of the water sports they'd discovered were possible when one shared a shower, Harry, now dressed in the clothes he'd carried into the bathroom, followed Hermione to her room, sitting on her bed while she rummaged through her closet in search of an outfit to wear for the day. Personally, he rather liked her current choice of a fluffy white towel that covered just enough to be considered decent, but he supposed he was prejudiced. Meanwhile he listened with amusement as his girlfriend muttered, "No…no…no…oh, honestly, what was I thinking…no…"
"Mione, anything you pick will be fine," he offered. "It's not like you could look bad if you tried," he added, making a conscious effort to say something appropriately boyfriend-ish.
Harry had yet to learn it was possible to try and say the right thing and still well and truly put his foot in his mouth. The sound of rummaging stopped and the frowning face of his girlfriend reappeared from the closet. "So, just because we're together I should dress like a sack of potatoes?" she asked, scowling. "And don't call me 'Mione'!"
"What the…I never said that…and I thought you liked it when I called you Mione," he replied, thoroughly confused.
Hermione rolled her eyes and returned to her quest for the right clothes. "Hmph! You might not care how I look, Harry, but I do; and pet names that are perfectly acceptable at…certain moments…lose their charm if they're used too casually."
"Oh." Somehow, Harry had thought that being Bonded with Hermione would help him to better understand the way her mind worked, but apparently that not only was not the case, their new relationship opened up whole new avenues of behavior about which he hadn't a clue. Deciding in a moment of rare insight that, while it might not save his arse every time, being honest was likely to get him in less trouble than anything else, he continued, "No pet names, and appreciate the effort you take to look nice; right, got it."
A moment later Hermione emerged from the closet wearing a halter-top in pear green that fit snugly round her bust and then flared to cover her midriff in soft folds of fabric. Below that she wore a pair of khaki safari shorts with a fit that hugged her hips before relaxing to a more comfortable fit that ended mid-thigh with two-inch cuffs. White trainers and sport socks with rolled-over tops completed the look, and his new awareness of 'Hermione-as-girl' told him she was the cutest thing he'd ever seen.
Unfortunately, wide-eyed silence was not the best way to compliment a girlfriend who was more than a little insecure about here appearance. When Harry just stared, Hermione sniffed and wrinkled her nose. "You don't like it," she mumbled, turning back to the closet.
He might be clueless, but he wasn't completely stupid; like a shot Harry was off the bed with his arms around her waist, earning a shiver as he planted a quick kiss on her neck. "Sorry; it's just that you look so fabulous I was stunned for a second. You look great, okay?"
It was amazing how many different emotions a little sniff could convey; this time it said she'd didn't quite believe him, but was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. Grinning, Harry took her hand as they exited the bedroom and headed down for their delayed breakfast.
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The relaxed, comfortable feeling between them lasted all the way downstairs, enveloping Harry and Hermione in a sensation of rightness, as if all the horrible things that tried to warp and twist their lives were held at bay by the bond between them. For a brief time there was no one else in the world but the two of them, tentatively exploring this new intimacy as they began to become aware of all the ramifications of their altered relationship.
The mood was shattered, however, when they entered the kitchen and discovered that, in fact, they were not alone in the house. Sitting at the table, sipping from a cup of tea and reading the morning edition of The Daily Prophet as if it were the most natural thing in the world for him to be there was Albus Dumbledore.
All the emotions that had turned the beginning of the summer into a maelstrom of pain and recrimination came crashing back in on Harry; the shame at being deceived, the guilt for the injuries of his friends and the death of his godfather, and all of it magnified by the anger and betrayal he felt rising within him at the sight of the headmaster. Dumbledore's presence felt like a violation of the sanctuary the Burrow had come to represent to Harry, forcing him to remember the torments that had turned his last year at Hogwarts into one of the worst experiences of his life.
He was still trying to wrestle the surge of anger that was rising within him when the headmaster looked up from his paper and smiled as if he was surprised by the presence of the two young people. "Harry, Miss Granger, how good to see you again. I trust you are enjoying your stay at the Burrow, and that your summer so far has been relaxing and…uneventful?" His eyes twinkled in the manner the Hogwarts' students knew so well, and Harry felt a resurgence of rage at the meddling old fool who was sticking his nose where it didn't belong…
The last string of thoughts caught Harry by surprise as a familiar stab of pain lanced through his scar. For a moment he felt the sensation of a serpent uncoiling within his mind, the feeling he'd come to associate with Voldemort's connection to him, and then something intervened. Warmth flooded through his consciousness, a reassuring presence that placed a wall between his feelings and those of the Dark Lord. The feeling spread and intensified, becoming stronger and carrying with it a message of love and understanding, flavored with respect and protectiveness. He opened the eyes he hadn't realized he closed, and found himself staring into chocolate and cinnamon gaze, one of her hands still clenched in his while her other hand cupped his cheek.
Taking a deep breath, he smiled at her in silent thanks, and turned his attention back to Dumbledore. "Sorry, Professor, I was a bit…distracted. I wasn't expecting to see you today, and it took me by surprise." Hermione shifted so that they were both facing the seated headmaster, but he refused to release her from his grasp, and after a couple of half-hearted attempts, to free herself she relented, remaining at his side with their hands and arms intertwined. "I'm guessing this isn't a social call?"
Professor Dumbledore arched an eyebrow as he set aside the paper and his cup of tea. "Would you believe if I claimed it was, Harry?" he asked with a small smile.
Harry shrugged. "No, I'd believe you were choosing to keep things from me again, just like you have for the last five years," answering in a disrespectful tone that made Hermione gasp in surprise, even knowing as she did how Harry's last meeting with the headmaster had gone.
To her amazement, there was nothing of censure in Dumbledore's reply, just a certain amount of regret as the twinkle faded from his gaze. "I did promise you, Harry, that those days were at an end, did I not?" he said, waiting for the unwilling nod he received in acknowledgement. "I would hope that, knowing the seriousness of the matters involved, you would do me the same courtesy, and tell me of anything that happened that might have a bearing on your safety, and that of those around you?"
When Harry didn't immediately respond, Hermione stepped into the conversation. "Did something happen to bring you here today, Professor?" she asked, drawing the old wizard's attention to her. "Something concerning Harry?"
"That is precisely what I am here to determine, Miss Granger," Dumbledore replied, seeming to sense that the conversation might go more smoothly if spoke mostly to her. "It seems there was a fluctuation in the protections that have been erected around the home of Harry's relatives, one of sufficient strength to alert the members of the Order who monitor it. They of course contacted me, as I am the one who established the wards in the first place." He paused and peered at her over the rim of his half-moon glasses. "I take it from your lack of reaction that Harry has already informed you of the reasons he grew up with the Dursleys, and why he still stays with them for part of each year, despite their…ambivalent attitude towards our world?"
Harry snorted at the headmaster's tactful phrasing. "You mean their complete and utter loathing for me, and for anything having to do with the 'freaks' like me?" he asked, his tone scathing. "She knows everything, Professor, and I do mean everything."
"Indeed? Then perhaps Miss Granger can apply that keen intellect for which she is justifiably renowned amongst her instructors to the reason why, at some time yesterday afternoon, a portion of the protections around Number 4 Privet Drive began to fade? Specifically, the portion dealing with the blood protections provided by his connection to his Aunt Petunia?"
Harry's eyes narrowed as Hermione's widened. "You said those were already weakened when Voldemort used my blood for his resurrection, Professor."
Dumbledore nodded. "Weakened, yes, Harry, but still potent, as potent as anything else that could be produced at the time. Combined with the general wards placed around the Dursleys to give them protection while you are away at school, your home was as well shielded as any place in Britain against magical attack.
"Yesterday, however, the blood protections that are the underpinnings of the wards began to fade. I examined them myself this morning, after Alastor Moody notified me of the change in their status. They are still present, but so reduced by whatever affected them that I estimate one more stress of a similar type and they will snap completely." He paused, looking back and forth between the young lovers before asking, "Now, is there anything you would like to tell me?"
Blushing, Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but before she could get a word out Harry interrupted. "Don't bother saying it, Hermione, he already knows what happened or he wouldn't be here. Did Mr. or Mrs. Weasley tell you, Professor, or did whatever spells you have on me inform you of my, or should I say our, change in status?"
"Harry!" Hermione scolded, shocked into speaking by his continuing attitude towards their headmaster. "That's no way to speak to Professor Dumbledore!"
"I'm afraid he has every reason for doubting me, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said sadly before Harry could answer her, feeling the resentment radiating off the young man, "and, I am sad to say, a great many reasons to doubt me. I take no offense." He focused his attention on the younger wizard as he continued, "Perhaps it will help if I explain what it is that I do know, and then you may fill in the blanks as you wish.
"As I said, I know that something has occurred to affect to blood magic that protects Harry within his aunt's home. I know of only a limited number of ways that those protections could be affected, and as I am an expert on blood alchemy, the odds that the alteration could occur through some medium of which I am not aware are slim indeed.
"Now, having determined that Harry's aunt is indeed alive and unharmed, the ways in which the blood wards could be altered are limited to methods that affect Harry himself. One of the most obvious of those is, and I am sorry if this embarrasses you, by the use of some form of sex magic. Might I assume that such is the case, and that it involves the two of you?" At Harry and Hermione's blushes he nodded. "Yes, well; I'm afraid that your body language and attitudes since my arrival made that conclusion a fairly simple one to reach. However, beyond the obvious, that you two are now involved…my congratulations, by the way…and have been intimate, I know none of the details. And while I normally make it a point not to interfere in the private lives of my students, so long as it does not unduly affect their schooling, your cases are obviously quite different."
"Because you need me to get rid of Voldemort," Harry muttered, earning a frown from the headmaster.
"Because Tom would be your enemy regardless of any prophecy; you, Harry, because your mother was Muggleborn and she and James refused to submit to him, and you, Miss Granger, because your very existence is a slap in the face to everything in which he believes, excelling as you do over all the so-called 'pureblood' witches of your generation." He paused and smiled at her increased blush before turning a more serious face to Harry. "However, as you have apparently told Miss Granger, the prophecy does exist, and Tom's reaction to the part he does know makes it imperative that the Order be kept apprised of any changes in your status that might affect the danger he and his followers represent to you and those close to you." Professor Dumbledore's eyes almost pleaded with Harry to confide in him, yet he felt no sign that the older wizard was attempting to use Legilimancy against him. Rather it seemed he was hoping to reestablish some of the trust between them that had been damaged in the previous year's events. Finally the headmaster looked away, for the first time looking every day of his over 150 years of age. "Tell me what you feel you can, Harry; I will not force you."
Harry glanced at Hermione, looking for her opinion. When she bit her lip and nodded, Harry cleared his throat and explained the events of the preceding twenty-four hours, with Hermione stepping in and filling in details as needed.
By the end of the explanation the older wizard's brow was furrowed in concentration. When Harry was finished talking, he cleared his throat. "So, in essence, you, Hermione, were officially adopted by the Weasleys and tied into the family's wards so that you in turn could access the protections on the family's Heart Stones. She then brought you, Harry, there as a place in which the two of you could be, shall we say, intimate for the first time without fear of Voldemort attacking you through the connection forged between you, correct? And that while there, Hermione performed a Bonding, with the intent of connecting you to the wards on the Burrow?"
"Professor Dumbledore, I performed the Bonding because I'm in love with Harry," Hermione said, clarifying her reasons, "and would do anything to keep him safe. I would be with him regardless; this just provided an added benefit that I hoped would free him from needing to stay with the Dursleys again."
"And I'm…I'm in love with Hermione, too," Harry added, flushing a little. "It didn't just start yesterday with…I mean, she's always been there for me, and I guess I've felt more than just friendship for her since I don't know when; it just took a bludger to the head to make me realize what it was I felt. Being Bonded to Hermione is the greatest thing that ever happened to me."
"And Molly knew of your plans, and had no objections?"
"It wasn't carved in stone, but we discussed it," Hermione said evasively. She still had to mend her fences with Mrs. Weasley and didn't want to hear what the professor might have to say about the manner in which she had performed the handfasting to Harry.
"What's on your mind, sir?" Harry asked when he realized that something was indeed piquing the old wizard's interest. "You're not going to try and say we should dissolve the Bonding, are you? Because if that's what you're thinking, I won't go along with-"
"Nothing like that, Harry," Dumbledore assured him with a small smile. "But your Bonding will bear closer examination, not to seek to dissolve it, but to see what other possible benefits it might have besides the obvious…"
"What could be better than what it already is?" Harry replied, his hand seeking out Hermione's again; he wasn't terribly thrilled with the idea that the wizards of the Order were going to be discussing the intimate details of his life, that once again his privacy was going to be sacrificed in the name of the battle against the Dark Lord's evil.
Instead of answering directly, Dumbledore followed a habit that Harry found increasingly irritating, and answered his question with a question. "Tell me, Harry, the first time you saw the Burrow, what did you think of it?"
'The Burrow? What the heck does that have to do with anything?' "Uh, I thought it was really…unusual," he equivocated, earning a smile from the headmaster.
"Which is a polite way of saying you thought it was a ramshackle joke that was likely to fall down around your ears, correct?"
"Well, I didn't think it was that bad, but…yeah," Harry admitted, blushing.
"But it never did fall down, did it, Harry? In fact, it's one of the places you feel most comfortable, the closest thing you've known to a real home, am I right?" Dumbledore pressed, his eyes regaining their twinkle.
"I suppose…"
"The point I'm trying to make is that the original builders never intended the Burrow to look as it does today. Over the generations it's been changed, altered, and added on to at need. Sometimes the alterations make perfect sense, other times they clash terribly with what went before, but together they combine to create the home that is the Burrow." The professor nodded at the building surrounding them, a smile on his face. "That feeling of 'home' is woven into the very fabric of the structure. Much of it is due to the magic that holds it together, but as much, if not more, comes from the lives that have been lived within it, the Weasleys who have been born, lived, and yes, died within its walls. The power that represents is reflected in the comfortable way you feel here, and it is a power that resides in the wards as well, a power to which you are both now bound."
"What do you mean, Professor?" Hermione asked, her voice filled with curiosity and more than a bit of nervousness.
"I mean that the same cycle of growth and change that applies to the Burrow applies to the wards as well," Dumbledore replied calmly. "Perhaps even moreso, as the Burrow is just the latest of a long series of dwellings that have existed on this land, while the wards have been in continuous existence for as long as there have been Weasleys living here; going back to the days of the Saxons, if I remember correctly. It would surprise me greatly if there were not unexpected ramifications beyond mere protection that are the result of the Bonding.
"For example: Harry, when you first saw that I was waiting in the kitchen for you and Hermione, what was the first feeling to cross your mind?"
Harry flushed as he recalled the spike of rage that had flared to life at the sight of the professor. "Well…"
"Allow me to guess, then," the headmaster continued smoothly. "From your reaction, you felt some of the same anger you felt in my office, perhaps more. Perhaps even the same signs of Tom's link to you that you've felt in the past, am I correct?"
"Something like that," Harry admitted grudgingly. "But it didn't last," he hastened to add. "I shook it off…"
"You shook it off, or it was blocked? Think carefully, Harry."
Harry did think about it, how he'd felt his scar, how the rage had mounted, and then a presence had inserted itself between Harry and the anger, shielding him from its effects, a presence that felt uncannily like- "Hermione," he breathed, "I felt…Hermione, coming between me and Voldemort's anger."
Hermione looked shocked for a second, and then a huge smile lit her face. "Harry, do you know what this means? The Bonding, you can use it to help you fight his influence over you! Oh, Harry!" and she flung her arms around his neck.
"I believe it is possible it might have even more uses than that, Miss Granger…Hermione," Dumbledore said with much of his usual twinkle in place. "Perhaps we should ask Arthur what he knows about the history of the family's wards, and see if he will grant me permission to examine them further. It might be that you two have wrought even better than you know…"
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The next several days saw life returning almost to normal at the Burrow, with a few notable exceptions. Luna and Ron spent much of their time in each other's company, often disappearing for hours and returning looking a bit rumpled, though both continued to insist (to the Ravenclaw girl's annoyance, and her friends' amusement) that nothing beyond some very intense snogging was going on between them. Still, whatever the relationship's amorous shortcomings as far as Luna was concerned, it seemed to work for them, and their friends couldn't be happier for the couple.
The other new couple in the Burrow, Harry and Hermione, had their own ups and downs, including one tremendous row over something Harry couldn't even remember, but the aftershocks of which gave everyone connected to the wards a headache that lasted all day. However, once Harry apologized and the two of them made up (he wasn't quite sure what he was apologizing for, but it seemed a safe bet he'd done something stupid to set his girlfriend off) the headache faded, and the energy from their make-up sex had everyone on the Weasley property smiling, connected to the wards or not. Harry secretly suspected that Nymphadora Tonks's sudden interest in Remus Lupin could be directly attributed to the pair of them checking in at the Burrow not fifteen minutes after Harry and Hermione had come down from their own post-coital high.
One slightly sore subject did remain between them; Hermione's parents. Harry was none to eager to meet them (especially Hermione's father) given Muggle attitudes about the sort of things he and their daughter had been doing together, but he still felt it wasn't wise to keep the nature of their relationship a secret from them. Hermione, on the other hand, was rather reticent to tell them the whole truth; she'd informed them that she was now 'dating' Harry, but that was all.
Fortunately or not, the subject of what to tell them had been postponed until the Christmas Break. Hermione's parents were currently on the continent, and would not return to their practice until after Hermione had boarded the Hogwarts Express. The most that Mr. and Mrs. Granger had been able to do was exact a promise from the couple that Harry would Join Hermione for the Christmas holidays so her parents could officially meet her 'young man'. It wasn't perfect, but with everything going on, Harry admitted it was probably for the best. And by the time the holidays came around, Hermione would also be 16, a not insignificant distinction when one was being intimate with the object of one's affections.
Oddly, the strength with which the young lovers were linked to the Burrow's magical fields went a long way to mending the rift between Mrs. Weasley and Hermione. Apparently being able to feel the intensity of their emotions through the Bonding's connection to the wards helped convince Molly to accept the relationship for what it was, a serious commitment on both their parts. Nothing else, Harry thought, could explain the older witch granting the two of them their own room in which to spend the remainder of their stay. If that weren't enough, a conversation Harry had with Molly a week after the Bonding convinced him she'd made her peace with the arrangement.
Everyone was making plans for the final trip to Diagon Alley for their school supplies. Voldemort's Death Eaters had been oddly quiet since the Department of Mysteries fiasco, but no one was fooled by the false calm before the storm.
The problem for Harry was that he had a very special errand he needed to run, one that Hermione couldn't tag along on, or even suspect. They would be returning to school in less than a fortnight, and he had promised himself that when they did, she would be wearing his ring…assuming, the nagging voice of his insecurities whispered in his ear, that she'd have him. Fortunately that voice seemed to get weaker with every passing day, and he hoped by the time they caught the Hogwarts Express it would be silenced, if not for eternity, at least indefinitely.
The difficulty remained that he had to get away from the group, find a jewelry store that hopefully wouldn't immediately blab to the Daly Prophet that Harry Potter had been ring-shopping, pick out a ring, pay for it and rejoin the group, all without Hermione noticing. A suggested stop at Quality Quidditch Supplies took care of separating from his girlfriend for a period of time (not surprisingly, Harry had found his love of flying returning as his depression lifted), but the rest of the plan remained rather vague until Molly drew Harry aside one evening.
"I understand from Ginny that you want to do some special shopping," she said without preamble once they were alone, her manner somewhat brusque.
Harry nodded cautiously; he was still a bit nervous around Mrs. Weasley, not wanting to go through another test of wills like that first night in the kitchen after the Bonding. "Uh, yeah," he admitted. "I want to pick up something for Hermione before we return to Hogwarts. She's done so much for me, the least I can do is make sure she has a proper ring, just in case someone at school decides they want to be catty about us."
Molly nodded, her eyes showing a touch of brightness. "You're really that sure, Harry?" she asked. When he nodded again, she sniffed and held out a piece of parchment. On it was written a single line:
"House Of Winton, 23 Vector Lane, Diagon Alley, London"
"What's this?" Harry asked, puzzled.
"It's the name of the jewelers the Weasley family has used for items like this for the last ten generations," Molly clarified. "I've already owled them that…one of my boys was coming in for a ring for his betrothed. I gave Roger, the current manager of the shop, a description of Hermione's and your tastes so he could have a selection ready for you to choose from. I assumed nothing too gaudy?" At his slightly stunned nod she continued. "Ginny and I will take Hermione to Madame Malkins' for new dress robes…which you will also be paying for, by the way…while you go to the shop. The Wintons have always had excellent taste, so you should be able to get in and out quickly; just be sure to pick up plenty of Galleons when you stop at Gringotts'. The House of Winton doesn't keep its reputation by selling junk."
Harry looked down at the slip of paper in his hand and then back up at Molly, his expression neutral. "Why are you doing this, Mrs. Weasley?" he asked quietly. "I thought you made it clear you didn't think we would 'work out'…yet first you give us our own room, and now this. Why?"
At first he didn't think he would get an answer, she was silent so long; he made as if to hand the parchment back, but she refused to accept it. "I…I was wrong to jump to that conclusion, Harry. I'd be lying if I said I was completely happy with the way things were done, but it's very clear that you two belong together. You're happier than I've ever seen you when you're with her, and her devotion to you is obviously every bit as deep. I wanted to do something to show you both that I realized that. I just want you to be happy, dear, and she makes you happy."
Harry smiled and gave her a quick hug. "Thanks, Mrs. Weasley, I…I really appreciate this. Do you think that you could maybe…tell Hermione how you feel? I know she's sorry she hurt you, it would mean a lot to her if she could make it right between you."
"We'll see, dear; one step at a time."
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AUTHOR'S NOTE - Well, there you have it, a little more canoodling, and a few more explanations. I think this is going to run for at least a few more chapters, maybe longer. Definitely through the return to Hogwarts, and if my readers don't get bored, through some explorations of the Bond, not to mention the holidays with Hermione's folks. Besides, I haven't put Ferret Boy in his place for a while, it's about time for him to get bitch-slapped around a bit. Oh, and Ginny needs to find her own Prince Charming…she's kissed enough frogs, perhaps she should try a toad this time?
Thanks for reading, and please review! They do seem to keep me inspired…