His Essence

StagOtter

Rating: PG13
Genres: Romance
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 11/09/2004
Last Updated: 06/11/2004
Status: in_progress

"Her hands were resting on his chest; he was sure she could feel his heart frantically pounding against his rib cage as though it was trying to escape. He had to make a decision, and he had to make it fast or else he just might die from the tension."

Chapters

1. déjà vu

2. the good news

3. the epiphany

4. pining potter

5. hot hermione

6. just a look

7. i love yogurt?

8. talks and tears

9. training

10. our own personal prison

11. delicious

12. whisper words of wisdom

13. memories

1. déjà vu

a/n: Hermione will make her appearance in Chapter 3. I’m not one to rush things, so I don’t want to jump straight into the Harry/Hermione romance – it’s just not how I see things happening between them – but it will happen. This will be a shorter fic, with each chapter around 1200-1500 words, seeing as it only details Harry’s summer.

-I welcome criticism (constructive only please) and reviews-

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Chapter 1: déjà vu

The atmosphere at Number 4 Privet Drive was tense, to say the least. Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley Dursley avoided their housemate like the plague, and that housemate was in a towering rage at the moment. Broken objects were scattered about the small room he called ‘his cell.’ The mirror inside his wardrobe was shattered, a clear fist mark imprinted in the wood beneath it. Scraps of food were on the walls, the remains of smashed plates amongst the clutter on his floor. Harry Potter stared at the broken glass of the mirror from his wardrobe for a moment, and was immediately reminded of Sirius’ shattered mirror at the bottom of his trunk. Tears did not come this time; he had cried himself out already. Instead, he turned away from the wardrobe and walked straight over to the nightstand by his bed. Pulling out a small, framed photo, Harry collapsed onto the lumpy mattress and heaved an exhausted sigh.

“I really need to stop doing that every time I get upset,” Harry thought with another sigh. He looked at the photo of him and his best friend, Hermione Granger. The picture had been taken at the end of their 4th year, and they both looked extremely happy considering the circumstances. Notably absent from the photograph was Ron Weasley, Harry’s other best friend and the boy he had come to think of as a brother. Harry vividly recalled Ron sprinting back to the Hogwarts Express after realizing he had forgotten his owl, Pig, when that picture was being taken.

It had been like this every night since his return from Hogwarts after that disastrous 5th year. Harry would work himself into a fierce rage, destroy half of his room, and then calm himself down by looking at that same picture. Somehow the smiling face of his best friend reassured him that things would be okay eventually. “If you think that demolishing your bedroom is the way to go about this, I suggest you think again, Harry Potter,” her voice echoed around his head for what must have been the hundredth time this summer. Hermione had come to be his voice of reason; chastising him when he did wrong, and warning him when he wasn’t thinking. Harry didn’t mind this at all; he’d rather have Hermione’s voice inside his head than anyone else’s.

Harry’s stomach gave a loud rumble, and he figured it was about time he ate something. He hadn’t felt up to eating much since his return to Privet Drive, nor had he felt like sleeping. Consequently, Harry had lost quite a bit of weight and was looking rather peaky. Not that it bothered him, but Harry knew that it would have more of an effect others, say, Hermione or Mrs. Weasley. He walked over to a loaf of bread sitting on his floor, and tore into it, eating rather savagely. After downing a bottle of water, Harry walked out the door and into the bathroom for a long shower. He always felt better after a shower, as though he had washed away the guilt and grief with the gallons of water he used up. Taking a moment to examine his appearance in the bathroom mirror, Harry came to the conclusion that while he was a bit on the skinny side, he still looked all right. His arms and stomach had muscle tone, and while he wasn’t big or beefy like Dudley, he was definitely strong enough. “Quidditch has done me well over the years,” Harry muttered to himself with a small chuckle.

Falling onto his bed for the second time that night, Harry felt refreshed but not yet ready for sleep. Every time he slept, he had nightmares about that fateful night at the Department of Mysteries. Surprisingly, the nightmares weren’t about his godfather’s death, or Voldemort’s battle with Dumbledore. No, Harry’s nightmares were about Hermione’s injury at the hand of escaped Death Eater, Antonin Dolohov. When she was hit with Dolohov’s spell, all rational thoughts fled Harry’s mind. All that mattered was Hermione, and whether or not she was alive and okay. Not the raging battle all around him, not the well-being of his other friends, and certainly not some prophecy. That moment in time was all about her, and it was that very moment that haunted Harry in his dreams every night.

Harry shuddered at the image of Hermione falling to the floor, and pushed it out of his mind. “She’s fine, you saw her after, she isn’t mad at you. Hermione is still here, and still your best friend,” he repeated in his head over and over, reassuring himself that the most important person in his life was still there for him. Yes, Hermione had become the most important person to Harry, even more so than Ron or Professor Dumbledore. For it was Hermione who stuck by him through it all, it was Hermione who never lied to him, and it was Hermione who cared about Harry, and not just The Boy Who Lived.

He tossed and turned on his bed for what seemed like hours, and was about to give up on sleep and write another letter to Hermione when he heard a crash downstairs. Leaping off the bed and grabbing his wand, Harry was struck with the odd sensation of déjà vu when his door opened of its own accord- just like the previous summer. Peering out onto the landing below, that sensation was amplified by the fact that Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, and Alastor ‘Mad-Eye’ Moody were standing below staring at him. Harry descended the stairs, and was soon swept into a manly embrace by Lupin.

“Harry,” he said hoarsely, as though he was fighting back tears, “Harry, how are you?” Lupin released Harry from his hug and took a good look at him.

“I’m well enough.” Harry was aware of Lupin, Tonks and Moody all looking at him intensely, and shifted uncomfortably. Thankfully, Tonks broke the silence by smashing her elbow on the corner of the wall as she moved towards the kitchen. Harry couldn’t help but give a small but quiet laugh, and saw out of the corner of his eye that Lupin was smiling as well.

“I’d say it’s about time we get Potter back to headquarters, don’t you two?” Moody growled in his usual gravelly voice.

“Yes, yes,” said Lupin absently as he continued to watch Tonks furiously rub her elbow. He cleared his throat, “Harry, Professor Dumbledore has arranged for us to take a portkey back to the Order headquarters.” He handed Harry a folded piece of parchment, and Harry quickly opened and read it.

‘The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix is located at The Burrow, home of Arthur and Molly Weasley.’

He looked up at Remus and nodded, thinking it was probably a good thing the headquarters wasn’t at Grimmauld Place anymore. That would only bring back memories of Sirius, something he did not need at the moment.

It was Moody who broke the silence this time by rummaging in his cloak. A moment later he pulled out a tattered copy of ‘Witch Weekly’ and held it out in front of him. Taking the cue, Harry stepped forward and grabbed onto the cover. Lupin and Tonks followed suit after summoning Harry’s trunk and Hedwig’s cage downstairs, and not a second later Harry felt the familiar jerk from behind his navel and knew they were going back to The Burrow.

2. the good news

a/n: Thanks for the kind reviews – all 3 of them! I hope to make regular updates, at least in the beginning.

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Chapter 2: the good news

Harry’s feet slammed into the ground, but he managed to stay standing with the help of Lupin. He looked around and found himself standing in the deserted kitchen of The Burrow. While the kitchen was empty at the moment, Harry could tell it was usually extremely busy. Pieces of parchment were scattered everywhere, cloaks draped over chairs, and bags deposited all over the room. He looked over his shoulder to see Lupin and Tonks watching him and gauging his reaction, and Moody walking away towards the fireplace.

“I guess I should be getting to bed now,” Harry said looking from Lupin to Tonks, who nodded. “I’m in Ron’s room?”

Lupin merely nodded before walking over and giving Harry another hug. “We’ll see you soon, if not tomorrow. Have a good night, Harry.” And with that Lupin and Tonks disapparated, leaving Harry alone.

Harry slowly walked out of the kitchen, dragging his trunk and Hedwig’s cage behind him. He took the stairs up, following the familiar route to Ron’s bedroom. Surprisingly he found Ron awake waiting for him, and immediately walked over and shook his hand.

“Good to see you mate, really good,” Ron greeted Harry, sounding somewhat wary of Harry’s reaction.

“Yeah, it’s been awhile. How’re you doing, Ron?”

“I’m fine, it’s been a boring summer so far without you or Hermione though,” Ron said with a bit of a laugh in his voice.

“Hermione’s not here yet? Oh wait that’s right, she’s still on holiday in France.”

Ron nodded, grabbed Hedwig’s cage and stored it on top of his wardrobe next to Pig’s. Harry pulled his trunk over to the bed he’d be sleeping on, and put on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt to sleep in. Climbing onto the mattress, Harry turned to see Ron getting into bed as well.

“Sorry we couldn’t talk more tonight, mate, I’m just knackered. Fred and George were chasing me around the house today – they needed a new test subject,” Ron said with a visible shudder.

Harry laughed, and said, “It’s no problem; we’ve got all summer to talk. ‘Night, Ron.”

“’Night, Harry.”

And with that both boys fell asleep; Ron into a peaceful sleep with dreams of flying, and Harry into a nightmare-filled sleep with the image of Hermione falling to the ground playing over and over.

The next morning Harry awoke with a start after having just seen Hermione collapse yet again. He found he was covered in a cold sweat, and that his shirt was plastered to his stomach. Harry mentally shook himself, and climbed out of bed happy with the prospect of a good day at The Burrow. He climbed out of bed and saw that Ron wasn’t in the room anymore. “I must’ve slept in pretty late if even Ron isn’t sleeping,” Harry thought with a small smile.

After getting cleaned up and showering, Harry returned to Ron’s bedroom and got dressed. Never one to care about what he wore, he threw on an old t shirt and a pair of khaki shorts. It was a hot summer, and The Burrow even hotter with all the people milling about inside. Harry went downstairs to the kitchen, and was promptly greeted by what seemed like the entire Weasley family.

“Harry!”

“Hey mate! How’s it going?”

“Hi Harry!”

Harry was overwhelmed, but happy to see them none the less. He hugged Mrs. Weasley, shook hands with Mr. Weasley, Bill, Charlie, Fred, and George, and waved at Ginny. Harry walked over to the table and sat down next to Ron, who looked exasperated with his family. He helped himself to toast and juice, and was soon engaged in a heated conversation with Ron about the Chudley Cannons.

He had fully enjoyed himself at breakfast, and spent the rest of the day lounging around playing Exploding Snap and wizard’s chess with Ron. Many members of the Order stopped in throughout the day, some popping into the lounge to say hello to Harry and Ron, others merely walking by and dealing with any business they had with the Order.

Harry wasn’t in the best of moods by the end of the day though. It wasn’t because of Ron or anyone else, no, it was just the usual pangs of grief that Harry had felt so often before this summer. However, after dinner Harry received the best news he had heard all summer.

Ginny walked into the lounge where Ron and Harry were engaged in another game of chess, and sat down to watch. “You know that Hermione arrives tomorrow.”

A huge grin spread across Harry’s face at this news, and he wasn’t even sure why. Sure he missed his best friend, but this was strange. He felt so happy and excited about seeing her, not the same way he felt about seeing Ron. Harry’s grin didn’t go unnoticed by Ginny and Ron, both of whom were staring at Harry. He quickly snapped out of his daze and looked from Ron’s confused expression to Ginny’s knowing smile.

“I…er…just can’t wait to see her,” he said rather lamely.

At this Ron shrugged and went back to focusing on the game, and Ginny’s smile widened. Harry briefly wondered what was so amusing about him and why Ginny kept smiling, but soon brought his focus back onto the game as Ron’s triumphant shout of, “Checkmate!” rang through his ears.

That night Harry went to bed feeling happier than he had all summer, knowing that he’d see his other best friend in just a few short hours. With a smile on his face, he fell into a dreamless sleep.

3. the epiphany

a/n: I appreciate the reviews I’ve received so far – thanks everyone! To quickly answer a couple of questions: Yes, Harry is going to have a talk with Remus about his summer, why the location of the Order changed, etc. Right now I’m just focusing on getting Hermione into the picture.

shaz124: Good point about the CONSTANT VIGILANCE!, it’s just something I forgot to put in there – I was pretty much trying to get Harry out of the Dursleys’ house and into the action at The Burrow as soon as possible. Thanks for pointing it out though.

Finally, chapter 4 will be the last of the “short chapters.” I plan on writing much longer chapters, so be patient please.

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Chapter 3: the epiphany

Once again Harry woke up to find Ron was already out of bed, but this time there was no cold sweat covering his body. He hadn’t had any nightmares for once, and realized with a shock that he was going to see Hermione soon. Harry rushed into the shower and furiously cleaned himself with his favourite soap, the one Hermione had once told him “smelled really, really nice.” He stepped out of the shower and went to dress in Ron’s room. Harry took his time in picking out what he wore, a strange thing for him to do. He finally settled on a vintage white Gryffindor t shirt and another pair of khaki shorts, just like the ones he had worn yesterday. Harry was trying to comb down his hair when he realized what he was doing.

“I never even bother to look at what I’m wearing, and now I’m attempting to tame my hair?” he thought to himself, while putting down the comb and tying up his trainers. Harry shook his head, stood up, and confidently walked out of the room and downstairs. When he reached the kitchen, Harry received the shock of his summer so far.

Hermione was talking with Ginny in the corner of the kitchen, and Ron was sitting at the table staring at her with a dumb look on his face. However, Harry couldn’t blame him - Hermione had changed, and not in a little way.

The first thing Harry noticed was her hair. It was no longer bushy and wild, but instead wavy with curls, and definitely sleek looking. It reminded him of how she looked at the Yule Ball their fourth year, except now it was up in a ponytail with a few curls hanging loose. He saw she was wearing a bit of make up too – nothing too wild for Hermione, but it had a nice effect on her eyes.

She had a good tan going for her as well, “Must be from her holiday in the south of France,” he thought while continuing to stare at her.

What shocked Harry the most however was what she was wearing. Perhaps what she wasn’t wearing is a better way of putting it. Hermione had on what the Muggles called a “wife beater” tank top, and it looked as though it was at least two sizes too small for her.

“Maybe it’s old. Maybe she forgot a lot of her clothes. Maybe she has nothing else to wear. Maybe I should shut up and enjoy the view.”

She was wearing a pair of short Gryffindor red shorts with the words ‘Lion Pride’ across the behind. Harry blushed furiously when he realized he had just ‘read Hermione’s arse.’

All thoughts of Sirius and sadness were pushed out of his mind when he saw Hermione. In fact, absolutely all of his thoughts were pushed out of his mind, leaving it completely blank and him standing there gawking at her like a 12 year old fanboy. In a pause of her conversation with Ginny, Hermione looked over in his direction and squealed out a high-pitch, “Harry!”

Before he could even stop staring at her like an idiot, she had bounded up to him and caught him in one of her trademark bone-crushing hugs. Harry just managed to gather enough of his senses to hug her back, and felt extremely disappointed when she let go of him and stepped back to look him over.

“It’s so good to see you again Harry! You look rather skinny, but still really good! I hope the Dursleys treated you well, if they didn’t, so help me, I will have a word with them I see them! Well at least you’re here now, I’m sure Mrs. Weasley has been feeding you right. Have you been sleeping? Had an okay summer? Harry? Are you paying attention?”

At the sound of his name Harry mentally shook himself. He realized he had been staring at her the entire time but not hearing a word she said.

“Yeah…you look really…er…good too, Hermione. It’s great to see you again,” he managed to stammer out, and before he knew what he was doing he had swooped down and kissed her on the cheek.

“What was that, Potter? Making a move on your best friend now?” Harry thought furiously to himself as he watched Hermione blush then thank him.

Harry looked anywhere in the room but at Hermione and his eyes fell on Ron’s bemused expression and Ginny’s broad grin. He still didn’t see what was so funny about the whole situation.

“Why don’t we go outside down by the creek, it’s getting pretty hot in here.”

Hermione’s voice shook Harry out of his thoughts. He nodded at her, and walked straight out of the kitchen into the back garden. Harry could feel Hermione and Ron’s presence behind him as he walked down the slight hill towards the sound of running water. The trio reached the creek after a few short minutes and all sat down under a big apple tree.

The continued to chat about their summers, Hermione’s trip to France, the upcoming school year, and whatever else came to mind for quite a long time. Ron decided to go back to The Burrow to get the group Butterbeers, as it was rather hot outside - even in the shade of the tree. He soon returned with a whole case of Butterbeer, and the three friends happily drank in silence, until Hermione decided to lie down with her head in Harry’s lap.

Harry choked on his Butterbeer, and had a coughing fit that would rival a person with tuberculosis. Hermione moved to get up but he shook his head and put a hand on her shoulder, signaling for her to stay. She shrugged and flashed Harry a smile that had he not been sitting already, would have brought him straight to the ground with his now weak knees. He turned to see Ron smirking at him, and Harry was forcibly reminded of the look Ron wore when he had spilled water on himself after waving to Cho at the Quidditch World Cup.

“Ah, Cho,” Harry thought somewhat bitterly, “couldn’t care less about the girl and her sneak-like ‘friends’ to be honest.” However he couldn’t deny that deep down, he still wanted a girl to kiss and be with, someone who understands him and accepts him as ‘Just Harry.’

BAM. It was as if he had been knocked in the head by a Bludger, everything suddenly fell into place. Hermione. She had been there all along, supporting him, worrying for him, caring for him. And now she was literally right under his nose. He couldn't believe he had missed this. For five years now, the girl he wanted and needed more than any other had been right there. Harry looked down at her; she had her eyes closed and a small smile on her lips. He realized that not only was this girl fiercely loyal, intelligent, supportive, and caring, but she was gorgeous. Hermione really had come a long way from that little 11 year old bushy-haired girl he had first met on the train, that was for sure. As he continued to stare at her face in awe, he tried to count all the times she had helped him - studying for tests, checking his homework, teaching him spells and jinxes for the Triwizard Tournament, following him into the Department of Mysteries that fateful night...there were just too many instances to count.

Harry had been so lost in thought that he failed to notice Hermione's now open eyes watching him for the past few minutes with a questioning look on her face. He realized with a jolt that he had been caught staring, and immediately blushed a fierce red.

“I er...have to go...get some more Butterbeer,” he stammered, and promptly stood up.

He turned to look at Ron, who was staring at him with a bemused expression plastered on his face.

“I'll be right back."

As he walked back up to the house, he distinctly heard Ron say, “But there's a whole case of Butterbeer right here.” Harry silently cursed himself for being a terrible liar, and trudged into the thankfully empty kitchen.

4. pining potter

a/n: Since this is the last of the “short chapters” I figured I’d post two in one day. I just finished writing chapter 5 (it’s about two times longer than this one), and I’m very happy with how the story is progressing. Thanks again for the reviews!

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Chapter 4: pining potter

Harry paced around the kitchen, lost in his thoughts. For all he knew, the world had ended. Everything had been flipped upside down - black was white, white was black, the sky was green, and the grass was blue. Nothing made sense, but at the same time everything made sense. This…love or whatever it was felt right, and he knew it. Harry was also sure that it was love, this wasn’t just a crush, and that was the main problem. A crush he could get over. After all, he had gotten over Cho pretty easily hadn’t he? But love…love for his best friend...that was another story.

“Now this is just bloody brilliant. I. Love. Hermione. Granger. I love Hermione Granger! My best friend, Hermione Granger! I can’t tell her, it’d ruin everything. But I have to tell her! I have to give her the chance to share this feeling, to tell me she loves me too, that I’m not the only one feeling all this...”

He continued to walk in circles around the kitchen table, occasionally muttering aloud to himself and wringing his hands. To an outsider, Harry Potter would look quite insane at the moment.

“ARGH!” he shouted as he hit his foot on the corner of the table and came crashing down onto a chair. He furiously rubbed the injured foot and swore under his breath.

“Harry? What’re you doing on the floor, Harry?”

Harry heard Ron’s confused-sounding voice float through the kitchen, and felt a stab of anger at the stupidity of the question. However, the anger subsided into fear when he saw Hermione peering at him from above, obviously barely stifling her laughter. He wondered if she’d be able to tell he loved her just by looking at him. She was the smartest witch in Hogwarts for a reason…

“Is everything all right, Harry?”

Her voice shook him out of his musings, and he realized he had been sitting on the kitchen floor for over a minute. Getting up quickly, he muttered a quick, “Yes,” and sat down on one of the kitchen chairs.

“It’s getting dark outside, Hermione and I figured it was about time to come back. Besides, you’d just run off on us in search of some more Butterbeer…” Ron trailed off, looking at Harry as though he was an interesting creature in Hagrid’s class.

“Really, I’m fine. I just forgot we had more Butterbeer out there. There’s nothing wrong with me,” Harry said while looking from Ron to Hermione.

Ron merely shrugged, walked over to the sink, and deposited the empty bottles of Butterbeer. Hermione gave Harry a look that clearly said, “I know something’s wrong with you and I’m going to get it out of you sooner or later.”

That look didn’t escape Harry, and more to distract Hermione than anything he said, “I’m going to bed now – Ron, are you coming?” He stood up from his chair and stared pointedly at Ron.

“Yeah, it is getting kind of late now. Good night, Hermione.”

“’Night, Ron.”

As Ron walked out of the kitchen, Harry turned to see Hermione watching him closely. Once again his traitorous body reacted before his brain could, and before he knew what he was doing he had walked over to Hermione and pulled her into a tight hug.

“Thanks for everything, Hermione…really, thanks. Good night.”

And before he did any other extremely stupid things Harry let her go and walked right out of the kitchen and up the stairs, leaving a very confused Hermione standing behind.

Hours later Harry was still wide awake, lying on top of the covers of his bed. Ron’s snoring echoed throughout the small room, but that wasn’t what was keeping Harry awake. He turned onto his side, and stared out the window at the stars. The now-familiar image of Hermione standing in the kitchen talking to Ginny entered his mind once again. She looked so good, so different, and it was haunting Harry. He could almost smell her lilac perfume as he breathed in deeply and closed his eyes. Harry decided that if thinking of Hermione wouldn’t put him to sleep, nothing would. He quietly got out of bed, and crept down the stairs towards the kitchen.

After a minute of standing in the deserted kitchen, Harry decided to take a walk down to the creek where he, Hermione, and Ron sat earlier that day. It wasn’t until he was halfway there that he realized he was wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and a t shirt. He briefly thought of turning back to The Burrow, but rationalized that it was the middle of the night and the chances of someone else being outside were slim to none.

How very wrong he was.

As Harry approached the apple tree, he saw that he was in fact not alone outside. Another person was sitting against the tree and staring into the running water nearby. That person was the girl Harry wanted to see more than any other, yet also the person he wanted to avoid the most – Hermione Granger.

His breath caught in his throat at the sight of her – she looked beautiful. Hermione was wearing a pure white t shirt and a pair of white shorts, and with the way the moonlight reflected off her hair how her eyes were closed Harry thought she looked like an angel. Part of him wanted to silently sneak back up to the house and leave her in peace; the other part wanted to jump her right there and snog her senseless. Harry’s mind fought a brief but furious battle over what to do, and in the end he settled for something in the middle.

“Hey,” he said softly, not wanting to startle her or give her a reason to hex him into next week.

Hermione’s eyes flew open and she jumped slightly at the sound of his voice, but as she turned and looked into his eyes her face broke into a gorgeous smile. Immediately Harry’s knees went weak and he had to sit down rather ungracefully to keep from collapsing. Once he had regained his composure, he stole another look at Hermione. She had her eyes closed again, and he couldn’t help but wonder what she was thinking about. Not wanting to sound rude or nosy, he let it go and watched her sit in silence.

A few moments later the sound of Hermione’s voice broke through the night air. “I guess I’m not the only one who couldn’t sleep.”

Harry wasn’t sure whether to take that as a question or a statement, and he decided that nodding his head would be a sufficient answer. Obviously Hermione found it okay as well, and she scooted closer towards him under the tree. At this Harry found he was actually moving his arm around her as though to hold her close to him. He briefly wondered how on earth he managed to move his arm when he was having trouble with the simple task of breathing. Hermione snuggled into his chest and Harry relaxed, happy knowing that his actions wouldn’t get him jinxed into oblivion by the cleverest witch he knew. “And the prettiest as well…”

“Hmm?” Hermione’s voice made Harry jump. Had he said that out loud? “Oh no, oh no oh no oh no,” he thought as he tried to come up with a plausible story as to why he had said something like that aloud.

“I…er…what I mean is…um…the night is pretty,” he managed to blurt out. “The night is pretty? She probably thinks I’ve gone as mental as Ron now,” Harry thought furiously to himself as he waited for Hermione’s response.

“Yeah, it really is lovely out here. It’s nice to take a break once and awhile and just…I don’t know…relax.”

Harry breathed a sigh of relief at her words – she didn’t think he was a complete moron. Well at least she didn’t let on if she did. He decided that nodding was the best option again – after all, he didn’t want to risk another bout of idiocy in front of the girl he was secretly in love with. They sat in a comfortable silence together, listening to the sounds around them and enjoying the company of one another. He didn’t know how long they were out there for, but he knew that as long as Hermione was holding onto him like this he never wanted it to end. He contemplated telling her about the prophecy but quickly decided against it. Harry knew he wanted Hermione to be the first person he told, but he didn’t want to ruin the perfect mood and situation – he would definitely tell her soon though, it was something he couldn’t keep inside forever. “And neither is the fact that I love her,” he thought with a small sigh.

They made their way back to the house when the sun was rising. The fact that he was holding Hermione’s hand didn’t escape Harry, and he wore a broad grin on his face the whole time. When they reached the door to the kitchen he dropped Hermione’s hand and turned to face her.

“Thanks for sitting with me, Harry, it was really nice,” Hermione said with a genuine smile. She reached up and hugged Harry tight.

He couldn’t help but feel a rush of pleasure as he held on to the girl he loved, and he pulled her towards him holding her even tighter. He vowed to not only tell her about the prophecy, but to confess his love as well. As she let go of him and he watched her walk into the kitchen, Harry knew that he would never love anyone else as much as he loved Hermione Jane Granger.

5. hot hermione

a/n: I officially love all the people who reviewed. Seriously, thanks guys – you make me so happy *tear*

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Chapter 5: hot hermione

The first thing Harry noticed when he walked into the kitchen was that what looked like the whole Order of the Phoenix was present. The second thing he noticed was the fact that he was still wearing only his boxers and a shirt. Hermione was standing close by in her white shirt and shorts looking thoroughly embarrassed.

Molly Weasley’s voice cut through the air like a whip. “Where on earth have you two been? Remus went upstairs to wake you up and what did he find? Empty beds! Do you have any idea of what went through our minds when we heard you two had disappeared? The whole Order was alerted of your disappearance; for all we knew you had been kidnapped! Killed! Held hostage by Death Eaters! Finally, at the crack of dawn, Hermione here comes into the kitchen practically dressed in her knickers with a smile on her face as if she had not a care in the world! And who’s next to waltz into the kitchen? Harry Potter, in his bloody boxers! Now what in Merlin’s name has been going on?”

A stunned silence followed Mrs. Weasley’s words, during which Harry stared at Hermione with his mouth agape and Hermione studied the floorboards as if there would be an essay question on them in her N.E.W.Ts. When the silence had become quite painful, Hermione finally spoke up.

“We were outside by the creek,” she said in a tiny voice with her eyes still trained on the floor, “Harry and I couldn’t sleep so we sat outside for the night. We didn’t mean to cause any trouble, honestly, it’s just that…”

She trailed off, looking helplessly at Harry. He didn’t know what to say either; in fact he wasn’t really sure what they had done. Sure he and Hermione had talked a bit, but they mostly just sat together, enjoying one another’s company. However, Harry couldn’t deny that they looked awfully suspicious dressed as they were. He cleared his throat, and looked around the kitchen. Harry noticed even Professor Dumbledore had come to The Burrow. He saw the all-too-familiar twinkle in the old man’s eyes and wondered what he thought of the whole situation. As if Dumbledore had read Harry’s mind, he spoke.

“Well, as long as Mr. Potter and Miss Granger are safe and sound I believe we can all relax and continue with our business,” he said in a light but commanding tone.

The members of the Order exited the kitchen talking amongst themselves. Harry caught his and Hermione’s name mentioned a couple of times, but that was all. He turned to look at Hermione again and he noticed she didn’t look all too embarrassed anymore. She caught his eye and grinned. Harry was forcibly reminded of the Yule Ball in their 4th year, when Hermione had caught his eye at the dinner table and flashed him that same brilliant smile that made his knees weak. Harry smiled back at her while staring at her lips and wondering what it’d be like to kiss them…

“Ahem.”

Harry jumped and looked around to see Dumbledore standing in the middle of the kitchen with a slight smile on his face.

“I would like to have a quick word with the two of you, if that’s all right.”

“Of – of course, Professor Dumbledore,” Hermione stammered out. Harry noticed she looked quite embarrassed once again and wondered why.

Harry nodded at the man and followed him into the lounge with Hermione right behind him. Dumbledore motioned for them to sit on the couch while he took a seat in an armchair nearby. Harry sat down in the middle of the couch and Hermione followed suit. He couldn’t help but smile when he noticed she had sat rather close to him even though the couch was big. Harry felt a surge run through his body like electricity when her arm brushed his leg as she reached for a pillow. He whipped his head around to look at her but she merely gave him a quick smile then focused on Dumbledore.

“I am here to inform you of some training the both of you will undergo this summer in preparation for the coming year at Hogwarts,” Dumbledore stated. He looked from Harry to Hermione and continued after a moment’s pause. “The second war has begun, and I feel it is my duty to inform you that both of you are currently high on Voldemort’s ‘target list’. I feel, as do many of the other Order members, that you should both hone your Defense Against the Dark Arts skills and learn many vital survival tactics.”

Harry wasn’t very surprised to hear that he was on Voldemort’s hit list, but he was caught off guard by Dumbledore’s honestly with him. He stole a glace at Hermione, who was looking straight ahead with a determined expression. “I don’t want her to be in any danger, ever. This is because of me, because she’s MY friend, because she hangs around The Boy Who Lived-”

His thoughts were interrupted by Dumbledore saying, “I want to make it clear, Harry, this is not your fault. Voldemort has always been against Muggle born witches and wizards, and Miss Granger happens to be a very prominent Muggle born witch. She would be a target whether or not she spent time with you.”

Harry looked into the man’s eyes and figured he had a valid point. He noticed Hermione was watching him, waiting to see his reaction to Dumbledore’s words. He cleared his throat and said in a clear voice, “I understand, sir, although knowing it’s not my fault doesn’t stop me from worrying about her. If I lose one more person…” he trailed off. A lump had formed in the back of Harry’s throat as memories from the Department of Mysteries came crashing into his mind. He saw Hermione falling to the floor, Ron being attacked by a brain, Neville screaming in agony as he was tortured, and Sirus – he saw Sirus falling through the veil after Bellatrix Lestrange shot a curse at him. He felt a surge of anger as he thought of Bellatrix. His knuckles had gone white from gripping the edge of the couch so hard, and he could feel the blood pulsing through his veins.

“Harry,” Hermione said in a soft voice very close to his right ear. Harry felt his anger dissipate as he looked into her eyes. His grip on the couch lightened but his heart rate doubled as he found himself unable to look away from her. Her gaze was absolutely piercing, and Harry knew she was aware of how she made him feel – he could see it in her eyes. All he could do was stare back at her as green met brown in a swirl of colour and emotion. Dumbledore broke Harry out of his trance-like state as he cleared his throat again.

“The two of you will be learning many important skills once you commence your training. I am asking you to put forth your best effort – it is extremely important you are able to protect yourselves. I have a feeling this year will not be an easy one.” Dumbledore stood as he finished the last sentence. “Your training will begin soon; I will contact you with a precise date.”

“What about Ron, sir? Won’t he be training with us too?” Harry asked.

“Mr. Weasley and his family will be leaving tomorrow for Romania for two weeks. It is a surprise for Ronald, so I must ask the two of you not to mention it to him. If you are still training when he returns, he is most welcome to join you. Now, I must get back to Hogwarts. Stay safe, Mr. Potter, Miss Granger.” Dumbledore gave Harry a small wink and disapparated.

Harry and Hermione were both silent for a few moments as they took Dumbledore’s words in. Hermione took a step towards Harry and gathered him into a vice-like hug, however he didn’t mind one bit. He hugged her back, trying to show her that he’d protect her and help her no matter what. Harry knew she understood and felt Hermione returning the feelings in her hug. He never wanted to let go of her or let her out of his sight – he would do anything in his power to protect Hermione and make sure Voldemort and his Death Eaters never laid one finger on the one he loved.

The sound of someone clumsily stumbling down the staircase broke Harry and Hermione apart. Harry looked towards the stairs to see a disheveled looking Ron glaring at Hermione’s cat, Crookshanks, as it happily purred. He knew from years of sharing a dormitory with Ron that he was definitely not a morning person, and that a hungry Ron in the morning meant nothing but trouble. Actually, a hungry Ron at any time of the day meant trouble.

“Bloody cat, always slinking around the house looking for people to bother,” Ron muttered to himself before catching sight of Harry and Hermione in the lounge. “Morning guys,” he said in a gravelly voice that didn’t sound all too different from Moody’s.

“Hi, Ron.”

“Morning, Ron.”

Harry watched Ron walk into the kitchen and made sure he was out of earshot before turning to Hermione and saying, “I don’t think we should tell him about the training yet, it might make him feel left out when he’s in Romania. I want him to have a good time with his family, he deserves a holiday.”

Hermione nodded, and they both walked into the kitchen after Ron. He was seated at the table wolfing down toast at the speed of light. Harry and Hermione sat at the table in silence, both thinking about what Dumbledore had spoken to them about earlier. Ron, who was thoroughly engrossed in eating, didn’t notice the silence at all. When he had finally finished what must have been his 10th slice of toast, he looked up and said in a much lighter voice than before, “I had an idea last night before I fell asleep. That creek we were by yesterday looked pretty inviting, and I fancied we could go for a swim today – that is, if you lot are up for it.”

Harry thought it was a brilliant idea. It was hot outside, the creek did look nice, and he’d always enjoyed swimming when he could. “Yeah, and I’ll get to see Hermione in a swim suit,” he thought and grinned inwardly.

“That sounds like fun, great idea, Ron!” Hermione exclaimed with enthusiasm.

“Definitely, I’m in.”

Ron beamed at the two of them before excusing himself to get cleaned up and ready for the day. After a moment Hermione excused herself as well, and told Harry to go and get ready for the creek. Harry obliged and soon found himself upstairs in Ron’s room, rummaging through his trunk looking for his swimming shorts. He found them after a short time and quickly changed into them before Ron came back. Harry took the time to check his appearance in the mirror before going back downstairs to wait for Hermione. He had on a pair of red trunks with gold lines down the sides – Harry thought they might be from that Muggle brand adidas, but really wasn’t sure as these were just another item of clothing he had “inherited” from Dudley. Grimacing at the thought of Dudley in a swim suit, Harry grabbed a shirt off his bed and made his way downstairs into the kitchen to wait for his best friends.

It didn’t take long for Ron to finish cleaning up. He flew down the stairs, nearly trampled Crookshanks as he rounded the corner into the kitchen, and smacked straight into a very surprised Harry, knocking him onto the floor.

“Ron!” Harry shouted angrily while massaging the back of his neck.

“Sorry, Harry! I’m just excited about this; I haven’t been swimming in over a year now!”

“Yeah, well-”

Harry lost the ability to speak when he caught sight of an amused looking Hermione standing at the door to the kitchen watching him with a small smile on her face. Had he not already been sprawled on the floor, Harry would have been now. Hermione was wearing nothing but a bright red and white Hawaiian floral print bikini. Her hair was pulled up into a messy bun, and her hands were on her hips as she studied the scene before her.

“Bloody-freaking-hell,” thought Harry as he continued to stare at her from his position on the kitchen floor. “She looks like a goddess…a bloody hot goddess with a body I’d sure love to…” Ron seemed to be thinking along the same lines as he gawked at her with his mouth slightly open in surprise. Hermione, however, either didn’t notice the effect she had on the two boys or chose to ignore it.

“Well, if we’re all ready to go now what do you say we head out?”

Neither Harry nor Ron made to move or speak; instead they continued to stare at Hermione as though they had never properly seen her before. She seemed to figure out what was going on at this point.

“Honestly!” she huffed, and folded her arms. “Boys...” She walked right out of the kitchen and into the backyard, all the while muttering to herself about “how she was not some toy to be gawked at” and ‘how boys were incorrigible.”

Once she was out of his sight Harry was able to recover and stand up, albeit with shaky legs. He turned to see Ron had shaken himself mentally as well and was now giving Harry a questioning look. Harry simply shrugged and smiled, then walked out of the kitchen. He heard Ron’s heavy footsteps just behind him and soon he had caught up. They walked side by side until they saw Hermione striding along some 50 meters ahead of them. Harry gave Ron a wicked grin and whispered, “Stay quiet for a minute and watch this.”

He sped up and silently made his was towards Hermione. As he got closer, he heard her humming a vaguely familiar Muggle tune. Harry continued to walk closer and closer to her, when he suddenly lunged out and grabbed her around the waist. She screamed and whipped around faster than a bullet, and soon Harry found himself face-to-face with a shocked looking Hermione.

“Harry!”

He burst out laughing and couldn’t stop when he looked at the expression on her face – it was funny, memorable, and cute at the same time. Within a few seconds Hermione was laughing with him, and he could hear Ron guffawing nearby. Harry was still holding onto her waist; he noticed she hadn’t made to move away. Truth be told, he couldn’t let go even if he wanted to – he felt as though his hands were glued to her body – they just fit so perfectly. They finally calmed down after a good minute of laughter and fell into silence. Ron made his way over to Harry and Hermione. He raised an eyebrow at Harry, who was momentarily puzzled until he realized he was holding onto Hermione. He dropped his hands from her waist as though he had been burned and looked away blushing.

“We’re close to the creek now, race you lot there!” Hermione exclaimed and sprinted down the hill towards the sound of running water.

Harry and Ron exchanged an amused glance then tore off after her. They caught up with Hermione just as she reached the edge of the water and wasted no time in jumping right in, effectively drenching her with the massive splashes they made. Hermione shrieked, but soon followed their lead and jumped in.

The trio laughed, swam, and talked for a good hour before they were startled by the appearance of a familiar face.

“Hello, Harry, Hermione, Ronald,” said none other than Luna Lovegood in her trademark dreamy voice.

Harry had a brief vision of Luna flying through the air after being hit by a Death Eater’s curse at the Department of Mysteries. He promptly shook his head and greeted Luna with Hermione and Ron.

“Fancy a swim, Luna?” said Ron, looking quite happy to see the girl. Harry wondered if things had changed between them since the events at the Ministry of Magic. He glanced over at Hermione (who was still looking gorgeous, he noted) to see her reaction. She grinned and nodded, understanding what Harry was thinking. He grinned back and found himself dangerously close to completely losing himself and jumping her right in the water. While that was an enticing idea, Harry figured Hermione really wouldn’t fancy her best mate ambushing her like that.

“Of course, Ronald,” she replied. Luna made quick work of removing her clothes and jumped into the water in a bright blue swim suit. She popped up next to Ron and was met with a wall of water from him. Laughing uncontrollably, the two were soon engaged in an intense water fight.

Harry watched the two of them for awhile before he was on the receiving end of a huge splash from Hermione.

“Bloody hell, Hermione!” he spluttered while laughing. He wasted no time in splashing her right back, and soon Harry found himself in his own water fight with Hermione.

The four students carried on like that all day, just being regular kids for once. Finally as 5 o clock neared, they figured it was about time they returned to The Burrow for a good dinner.

“Er…Luna…would you like to, ahem, come to dinner with us?” Ron said as he blushed furiously.

“I’d love to,” she replied in a not-so-dreamy voice as she blushed herself.

This exchange was not lost on Harry; he caught Hermione’s eye and grinned. He walked over to her and whispered, “I reckon our ickle Ronnikins fancies her, don’t you?” She giggled and nodded. Harry found that he very much liked to hear Hermione giggle like that, and he wanted to hear it again. He leaned down and whispered, “We should probably leave the two lovebirds alone, I have a feeling Luna has had plans for ‘Ronald’ since last term.” That earned another giggle from Hermione, as well as a light punch on the arm. Harry’s stomach did a back flip at the brief contact and he grinned madly knowing he could make her laugh like that.

Luna gathered her clothes and the four of them made their way up the hill to the house. As Harry looked back towards the creek, he couldn’t help but wonder with an inward grin if Hermione would ever go skinny dipping. He cast a furtive glance over to her and decided that he was lucky Hermione wasn’t skilled in Legilimency, because if she could read his mind at that moment she might very well never speak to him again.

6. just a look

a/n: Thank you reviewers! This is my favourite chapter so far – hope you enjoy it.

*~*

chapter 6: just a look

Once the four students reached the kitchen of The Burrow they knew it was most definitely not a good time to return. It was utter chaos – owls flitting around the ceiling occasionally swooping down upon a busy Order member to collect a message, rolls of parchment scattered across the counters and kitchen table, and cloaks flung haphazardly around the room. Members of the Order of the Phoenix were engaged in conversations with one another. Some were speaking in low voices and nodding gravely; others, such as Tonks, were conversing rather loudly with one another from across the room. Molly Weasley was flitting about the kitchen, not much unlike the owls, trying in vain to tidy the area. No one took noticed of the students’ arrival, and Ron had to shout to make himself heard over all the noise.

“Mum! Hey,” he broke off when a rather large tawny owl collided with the back of his head. “Ouch! Mum! Luna’s staying for dinner if that’s all right with you!”

Mrs. Weasley gave Luna a warm smile and nodded quickly before returning to her impossible task. A bedraggled looking Ginny fought her way through the crowded kitchen over to the group. She hugged and greeted Luna, then turned to the rest of them and said in what was clearly an annoyed voice, “They’ve taken over the house! It’s impossible to get anything done in here with this lot wandering about. Why they’ve chosen The Burrow as their new headquarters is beyond me.”

Harry had also wondered why Grimmauld Place was no longer used as the Order’s headquarters. It certainly was a better place to hold all the members and meetings than The Burrow. He made a mental note to ask Lupin about it the next time he saw him. Harry saw Hermione, Ginny and Luna talking a short distance away, but couldn’t hear what they were saying over all the noise in the kitchen. Ron shot him a look as if to say, “Girl talk.” Harry nodded and motioned towards the lounge with his hand; Ron nodded and began to push his way through the kitchen with Harry close behind.

“Bloody hell,” said Ron as he plopped unceremoniously into an armchair after closing the door to the kitchen.

“Tell me about it,” agreed Harry as he too sunk into an armchair. “You up for a game of chess, then?”

“Sure, I feel like beating the pants off someone anyway,” Ron said with a grin as he leaned over the table and chess board.

Harry laughed and the two of them played in silence for a few minutes. Ron had always been better than him at wizard’s chess, but Harry had definitely improved since he first started playing. He sighed as Ron’s queen viciously took one of his pawns out of the game. Harry’s focus was not on the game in front of him, but instead on ‘his personal goddess,’ as he liked to call her, who was currently in the kitchen chatting and maybe even gossiping with her two girl friends. He couldn’t help but wonder if she ever talked about him while she was with Ginny and Luna – he was most interested to hear what Hermione thought of him. Sure, he knew she thought him to be brave, but that wasn’t what he wanted to know. Harry was curious as to what she thought of his appearance, or if he was even a possible ‘love interest’ for her.

“You have to make a move, Harry,” Ron said as he stared at Harry with a curious look on his face.

“What do you mean I have to make a move? I’m not even sure how she feels yet; I don’t want to make a prat out of myself in front of her!”

“Um…I was talking about the game – it’s your turn.”

Harry’s face turned redder than Ron’s hair, if that was indeed possible. “Oh.” He quickly moved and turned away, refusing to meet Ron’s eyes.

“So, who don’t you want to make a prat out of yourself in front of?” said Ron with a very Malfoy-like smirk on his face. “Actually, you don’t have to tell me if you’re going to get all riled up about it. Besides, I think I already have a good idea of who she is anyway.” He tried to catch Harry’s eye, but he refused to look at him. “It’s Pansy Parkinson isn’t it, Harry?”

That got Harry to look at Ron with a death glare, and Ron burst out laughing.

“I’m only joking! I know you don’t fancy that cow,” he said as his laughter died down, “it’s really Millicent Bullstrode that’s captured your heart!”

This time Harry got up and tackled Ron from his armchair to the ground as Ron continued to laugh louder than a banshee. Eventually Harry was laughing too as he sat on the floor watching Ron roll around clutching his stomach as though it would burst.

“I swear, Ron, if you ever say something as disgusting as that again I will not speak to you for a month,” Harry said with a chuckle.

Ron stopped laughing and said between breaths, “Ah, Harry, you don’t have to worry about that – I’ve even scared myself just thinking about you and either of those two as a couple.”

He sobered up quite fast and looked away from Harry, obviously in thought. After a minute of silence he said, “There’s only one girl I can think of as your girlfriend, and I honestly think you know who I’m talking about as well.”

Harry shifted on the floor so that his back was against the couch and he was sitting next to Ron. He briefly thought of denying that he felt anything for Hermione – he knew that it was her Ron was talking about – but decided against it. He didn’t need to hide anything from Ron; it certainly seemed as though he didn’t mind the idea of him and Hermione together.

He chose his words carefully as he replied, “I like her, Ron. Actually, I think – no, I know – I love her. I’m head over heels in love with our best friend, Hermione Granger, and I like it.”

Harry didn’t know what to expect from Ron when he finished talking, but was immensely relieved to see his face break into an enormous grin as he said, “It’s about time you realized that, mate – seriously, it’s only taken you five or so years now. Better late than never, I suppose,” he finished with another grin.

Before Harry could reply, the door opened and in walked Hermione, Ginny and Luna. Hermione looked flushed and didn’t look at Harry at all; Ginny was grinning like the Cheshire cat, and Luna just stared at Ron with a dreamy look plastered on her face. Harry was about to ask Hermione if anything was wrong when Ginny spoke.

“Mum said dinner should be ready soon and that she needs our help to prepare since there are so many people staying tonight,” she said in an amused tone. Harry wondered why she sounded like that when she was talking about helping out with dinner.

Ron gave Harry one last grin before he stood up from the floor and stomped into the kitchen with Luna not too far behind. Harry got back onto his feet and started for the kitchen before Ginny cut him off with an arm to the chest.

“She said she only needs three people to help her. We’ve got it covered. You two just make yourselves comfortable,” Ginny said as she clearly fought back laughter. She winked at Hermione, who promptly blushed, then walked into the kitchen leaving Harry and Hermione alone in the lounge.

“Is she feeling all right? I’ve never known her to find helping in the kitchen amusing. And since when has Mrs. Weasley ‘only needed three people’ to help her out?” Harry asked her with a bemused look upon his face.

Hermione’s blush receded, and she turned to face him directly as she said, “Ginny’s fine, she’s just hung up on something I said earlier in the kitchen. I have no idea why Mrs. Weasley would only need three people though,” she paused to think, and then continued, “Ginny’s probably pulling our legs or something. She has hung around Fred and George a lot this summer…”

Harry cleared his throat and nodded at her, feeling butterflies – no, hippogriffs – in his stomach. He saw she was looking at a photograph on the wall and he took a moment to look her over. Her hair was pulled up into a ponytail again and was extremely curly from the water. She had put on a tank top and pair of shorts over her swim suit; Harry could just make out the floral pattern underneath the tank top if he looked close enough. She looked to have gotten a bit of a tan throughout the afternoon as well, although the tops of her shoulders were slightly sun burnt. Harry still found her beautiful even though she wasn’t dressed up at all; then again he always thought she looked amazing.

After a minute or two of staring at the photo Hermione spoke with her back still to Harry. “It used to be so simple…”

He figured she was talking about the picture, and moved forwards to look over her shoulder. Once he was close enough, he saw it was a picture of Hermione, Ron and himself at Hogwarts. It had been taken before the snowball fight prior to the Yule Ball during 4th year. He and Ron were grinning and holding Hermione in their arms as she laughed and tried to swat at them. What Harry wouldn’t give to have her in his arms like that now…

“We were so innocent back then weren’t we? We had no idea of what was coming, what would happen to us…we were just three kids smiling and having fun in the snow,” she said in a faraway voice that sounded a lot like Luna’s.

Harry agreed with her completely. If only things were always like that for them, if only Voldemort had never returned, if only he had listened to Hermione and not gone rushing off to the Department of Mysteries, if only, if only. He could ‘if only’ everything that had ever occurred in his life if he wanted to but he knew that wouldn’t help or change anything. Instead, Harry simply hugged Hermione around the waist and put his head on her shoulder, breathing in the smell of her hair. She tensed slightly, but then to his great satisfaction held his arms against her and leaned back into him. He felt warmth spread throughout his entire body, and his skin felt as if it was on fire where her hands were holding him. Harry wasn’t sure if what this was a strictly friendly embrace or if it was something more, but when she turned around and he found himself looking into her eyes he thought he knew the answer. He had looked into her eyes on many occasions before – when they were in class, in the library, in the common room, and even in the creek – but there was something different about this time; there was something else in his eyes that he didn’t quite recognize. Was it love? Or maybe just lust? Maybe he was imagining things entirely and she was just looking at him; somehow he didn’t think so. For some reason, Harry thought she was returning his feelings in that one look, in this one moment of solitude. It was just a look in her dark brown eyes that he was sure showed in his own. Her hands were resting on his chest; he was sure she could feel his heart frantically pounding against his rib cage as though it was trying to escape. He had to make a decision, and he had to make it fast or else he just might die from the tension – it was so thick he could have sworn it was visible all around them. It was either he pulled away and ran from the room like a coward, or he leaned in and kissed her – the latter option would probably use up all his Gryffindor bravery for the entire year. He had come to a decision: Hermione was worth all his bravery and more.

Harry felt his arms moving of their own accord from her upper arms to her waist, and he was slowly lowering his head to hers. She didn’t move away, but instead continued to stare straight into his soul. Finally, after what seemed like ages, his lips met hers. His heart felt as though it would explode right inside his chest, but this time it was a good feeling, and not frightening. Her hands slid up around his neck as she pulled him closer, and he took the hint and pulled her closer to him as well. Harry was just about to work up the courage to deepen the kiss when he heard a door slam and the sound of voices somewhere in their vicinity.

They sprung apart just in time as a mob of people came into the lounge on their way out of The Burrow. Harry’s breathing was ragged and he heard Hermione’s sharp breaths on his left. A few members of the Order shot them curious looks but no one said anything. Harry’s brain was working on overdrive as he tried to memorize every tiny detail of the kiss. It was the most amazing experience in his life to date, and it had only lasted a few seconds. He tried to imagine how good it would be if it had lasted even longer, or what could have happened had they not been interrupted. He was shaken out of his thoughts when Mrs. Weasley’s voice called them for dinner.

Harry looked over to see Hermione smiling at him and he grinned back, ecstatic that this wasn’t just an accident and that she wasn’t mad at him. She gave him a wink and motioned for him to follow her as she walked into the kitchen.

Dinner at The Burrow was certainly an interesting affair that evening. The kitchen was crowded as usual, but the table had been magically expanded to accommodate the extra guests. Harry had “accidentally” knocked Fred over so he could sit next to Hermione; he saw Ron do the same thing to George so he could nab the seat next to Luna. Harry found he couldn’t keep from touching Hermione at every chance he got. When he saw her reaching for the butter or salt, he went for it at the same time so their hands would brush. After the third or fourth time this happened, she caught his eye with a questioning look and then laughed out loud as he blushed – that didn’t stop him from doing it again the next time she went for the pepper though. If he needed to tell her something, he’d lean in and whisper so his lips barely brushed her ear – that made her blush as much as he had before, if not more.

Of course, Harry was oblivious to the looks he received after some of his actions – the knowing, amused glances from around the table. He found it hard to concentrate on anything else when the memory of his and Hermione’s kiss seemed to be on a loop in his mind, replaying over and over. The fact that he was sitting so close to her at the table didn’t help matters either.

Desert consisted of ice cream in almost every flavour imaginable. Judging by some of the more “interesting” flavours, Harry suspected it was made by the same company that produced Every Flavour Beans. He decided to stick with the safe choice of vanilla and saw Hermione had chosen the same. As he savoured his ice cream (and watching Hermione enjoy hers) he couldn’t help but wonder when he’d get the chance to kiss her again. Harry didn’t want to talk about what had happened just yet – there would be plenty of time for talking later. He needed to have her in his arms and his lips on hers soon or he just might jump her right then and there.

“So, Harry,” Fred said in a loud voice that carried around the room, “Couldn’t help but notice you look awfully interested in Hermione’s ice cream.”

Harry realized he had been staring at Hermione’s mouth for the last five minutes as he relived their kiss from before. He cleared his throat and looked around the now silent kitchen nervously. For the life of him, Harry could not think of a response that wouldn’t earn a slap from Hermione or give Mrs. Weasley a heart attack. Thankfully, Hermione’s cleverness kicked in.

“Oh! There’s something in my ice cream – good spot, Harry!” she exclaimed, pretending to pick something out of her spoon.

“Yeah, I was going to tell you sooner but I was trying to figure out what it was. You know, in case it was just a chocolate chip or something like that,” Harry said in what would be a casual tone, had his voice not cracked about three times. He cleared his throat again, shot Hermione a thankful look, and returned to his ice cream with renewed vigor. Everyone else took this as a sign and returned to their desert.

Harry felt Hermione’s lips on his ear, and a shiver ran through his body as she whispered, “What were you really looking at, Harry?” The way she said his name caused him to shift in his seat nervously before he replied.

“You, er, and how I want to kiss you again. Kiss you soon,” he whispered in return. Harry hoped he had sounded somewhat smooth – the last thing he wanted to do was put Hermione off the idea of kissing him again.

She giggled. “Yes!” thought Harry as another jolt of pleasure swept through.

“You know,” she broke off, looking around the table quickly to make sure no one was listening or watching and then continued in a whisper, “I want to kiss you soon, too.” And then she kissed his ear before leaning back and turning to talk with Ginny.

Harry completely lost control at that. He sat awkwardly for the rest of desert, fidgeting like a madman and debating on the best method to keep his problem a secret. At last, everyone had finished their desert and put their bowls into the sink. Harry saw Ron shamelessly flirting with Luna across the table and wondered when he had become such a ladies’ man. He smiled to himself and shook his head.

“What’s so funny?” Hermione asked with a small smile.

“Ron and Luna,” he replied and nodded in their direction.

Hermione took a second to look, and then turned back to Harry with a grin. “They’d make a good couple, don’t you think?”

Harry nodded. He could think of two other people at the table who’d make a good couple, and she was one of them. Once again, Harry and Hermione found themselves staring at each other with looks of longing. He was about to suggest they excuse themselves from the table when Ron and Luna stood up.

“I’m walking Luna home now,” Ron said, not bothering to hide his broad grin. “Be back later.”

“Oooh, has ickle Ronnikins got himself a girlfriend at last?” George asked in a sing-song voice.

“My dear brother, I think he has!” Fred replied with excessive enthusiasm.

“And now he gets to walk his girlfriend home, and give her a kiss goodnight!”

“Oooh, a kissy for Ronnie, how sweet,” said Fred as he pretended to wipe a tear from his eye.

“Sod off, you two,” Ron said, however he didn’t look mad – in fact, he looked quite happy at the idea of a kiss from Luna. With that, he took her hand and the two of them walked out of the kitchen.

As the rest of the people present burst into chat about the latest development, Harry had an idea – a brilliant one in his mind. He leaned over to Hermione and whispered, “I think we should go for a walk too. Not like anyone will notice we’re gone with all the fuss over Ron and Luna.”

She bit her lip in thought and stared straight ahead. For a fleeting moment Harry thought she’d turn around and reject him, telling him that their kiss wasn’t right and she didn’t want it to happen again. What she actually did surprised him like no other. Without looking at him, she squeezed his knee and said in a low voice, “Meet me by the creek.” And with that she stood up and walked out the back door into the garden.

7. i love yogurt?

a/n: Thank you, reviewers – you guys really make my day. Without further ado, here’s chapter 7 – some humour, quite a bit of fluff, and of course, more story. Enjoy!

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chapter 7: i love yogurt?

Harry sat stock still at the kitchen table as if he had been Petrified. He vaguely registered that his mouth was hanging open and he was staring at the now closed back door. He managed to close his mouth and stand up with only a little bit of trouble. Harry moved towards the door at a snail’s pace, desperately trying not to draw attention to himself and the fact that he was leaving. He had just extended a hand towards the door when, naturally, things had to go wrong for Harry.

“Harry, dear, it’s late – where are you heading out to?” Mrs. Weasley’s voice called from the table.

He jumped and spun around to look at the table. At least fifteen curious faces were now turned towards him; some were smiling, some just staring. Harry saw Fred and George exchange a glance and smirk at one another before returning their attention to him. He felt himself blush and knew he must look like an idiot, just standing their gaping at everyone. What was he supposed to say? He certainly could not tell them the truth and blurt out, ‘I’m just going out to meet a girl for a snog – oh, and that girl happens to be my best friend. Yeah, Hermione, she’s the one.’ Somehow he thought that might not go down so well. Harry’s brain worked frantically in search of a reasonable excuse. At last, something plausible and simple surfaced; he decided to just go with it and hope for the best.

“I’m feeling very full after your excellent cooking, Mrs. Weasley, so I fancied I’d take a short walk around the garden,” he said quite calmly considering he had rarely been more nervous in his entire life. Harry hoped his compliment would throw her off a bit and maybe she’d let him escape. His brain and body were both screaming, “GET OUTSIDE!” and he could feel his hand that was now resting on the doorframe twitching.

Mrs. Weasley seemed to be considering his reasoning while Fred and George continued to smirk. Tonks leaned over and whispered something to Ginny. She shook her head with a grin on her face before whispering something back to Tonks, who promptly blushed and stared at Harry.

Finally, Molly shot Fred and George a look and said, “As long as you have your wand and you don’t stray too far away from the house, you should be fine, dear.”

Harry breathed a sigh of relief and quickly exited the kitchen. The cool night air felt good against his burning face. He stood still a moment to allow his eyes to adjust to the moonlight, and then set off down the hill towards the tree by the creek. While Harry hoped and wished that Hermione was waiting for him so they could promptly snog each other senseless, a tiny part inside wondered if she had called him out just to talk about what had happened in the lounge. He knew Hermione tended to analyze every little detail of something, why should their kiss be any different? “Because it was a kiss, that’s why, you idiot,” he thought as he continued to walk. A short while later he found himself at the tree where he, Hermione, and Ron had sat together. Harry searched the darkness for Hermione, but there was no sign of her nearby. Just as he was starting to panic, he felt a hand on his shoulder and whipped around to find himself staring right at her.

“Why’d you have to sneak up on me? You had me worried like no other when you weren’t waiting by the tree,” he said as he tried to regain his composure.

Hermione raised an eyebrow and said, “I told you to meet me by the creek – you’re the one who assumed I meant the tree, Harry. Besides, you worry too much; I can handle myself just fine.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Harry stated quickly, “it’s just I worry about you, and after all that’s happened to-” he was cut off as Hermione leaned up and kissed him forcefully. Harry was surprised at first, but it was definitely a pleasant surprise. Once again he thought his heart would explode in his chest as he kissed her back with just as much passion. His head was spinning out of control and he didn’t mind it one bit. He wrapped his arms around her back and pulled her as close as humanly possible, most likely crushing a few of his ribs in the process – but he didn’t mind that either.

Harry was just about to deepen the kiss when Hermione got there before him. He gasped as her tongue slid into his mouth and met his. Never had he kissed like this before – he wished so badly that he had never gone through that awful experience with Cho, and that this was his first kiss. Absolutely everything about this moment was perfect – his and Hermione’s mouths fused, her hands in his hair, his hands wrapped tightly around her back, all underneath the night sky.

He felt her push him away, and wondered what on earth would make her want to stop this. Had he done something wrong? Was he really a bad kisser after all? However, all worries were erased from Harry’s mind as she smirked and pushed him down onto the grass before practically jumping him. He grinned into her lips as their kissing continued, even most passionate than before. Hermione’s hands moved up and down his t-shirt twice before she broke their kiss momentarily to pull it off over his head. As they continued kissing, her hands went back to his chest and he jumped at the contact. His skin literally felt as though it was burning up wherever she touched him, so he decided to give her some of her own medicine. He promptly slipped his hands underneath her own tank top and moved them up and down her back. She gasped and pulled away, and Harry thought he had gone too fast. It turned out he was very wrong, and he knew it when she pulled off her shirt, nearly ripping it in the process. Harry decided to try something he had heard Dean talking about before; he flipped her over so he was on top before he kissed her neck experimentally a couple of times. When she gasped and whispered his name, Harry made a quick mental note to thank Dean profusely the next time he saw him.

They continued to kiss like that, never letting go of one another. After over an hour, Hermione – who had incidentally flipped Harry over again so she was on top – rolled off of him and laid by his side in the grass breathing heavily. He looked over at her to see her lying there watching the stars with a smile on her face and her arms crossed under her head. Harry grinned and turned to watch the stars himself. Hermione shifted so she was lying with her head on his chest. Her eyes looked up into his as if asking permission to stay like that. Harry smiled warmly and nodded before looking back at the sky. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her smile before she closed her eyes. No words needed to be spoken between them – they both knew they had not only crossed but demolished the line between friendship and more, and that it was fine by them.

Harry continued to stare into space as he relived the events of the last hour with a continual grin imprinted on his face; Hermione simply lied with her eyes closed and a small smile playing on her lips. They stayed that way for another hour before Hermione suggested they return to the house so as not to worry Mrs. Weasley or anyone else. Harry reluctantly agreed, stood up, and then helped her to her feet. The two of them pulled on their shirts before walking hand in hand up the hill towards The Burrow. They separated when the kitchen door was reached and looked into each other’s eyes like before. Harry wanted to tell her he loved her so badly, but he was scared it might put her off. “Oh, to hell with it,” he thought.

He cleared his throat nervously and said, “Hermione, I” he broke off as his voice cracked. Once again he cleared his throat before continuing, “I love yo…gurt.”

“Oh. My. God. I love yogurt?! What the hell am I thinking?” he thought as he feigned a coughing fit. Hermione looked at him with a questioning face, and he shrugged. He was saved from having to explain his apparent passion for yogurt when the door abruptly opened.

They were bathed in the bright light from the kitchen as Ron poked his head outside and said, “There you are! Bloody hell, you had mum in a right state!”

Hermione gave Harry one last questioning look before winking and walking past Ron into the kitchen. Harry turned to see Ron with a curious look on his face. “Probably wondering why I was coughing like an idiot while standing out here with Hermione,” Harry thought as he nodded to him and walked inside. He saw Hermione hugging Ginny and saying good night, and he walked over to them. Ginny smiled at him and left the room.

“I’m going to bed now, Harry. See you in the morning,” Hermione said. She stood on her toes to give him a kiss on the cheek as she always did. After kissing him she added in a whisper, “I think we’re going to have to start taking walks every night.” She smiled, said a quick good night to Ron, and left for her bedroom. Harry stood there with a goofy grin on his face – he definitely wanted to take more “walks” like that with Hermione.

“I’m heading up to bed too, coming, Harry?” Ron asked, stifling a yawn.

“Yeah, let’s go.” And with one final look out the window towards the night sky, Harry followed Ron out of the kitchen and upstairs to their bedroom.

Ron fell asleep right away, but Harry lay awake in bed unable to sleep. He fought the urge to sneak into Ginny’s room and wake up Hermione, although it was a very tempting idea. He tried to will himself to sleep, but every time he closed his eyes images of Hermione popped up and he couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by the urge to have her in his arms and touch her again. He climbed out of bed and silently paced the room, thinking it might help to clear his mind – and then it hit him – Occlumency. That was the whole point of Occlumency really, clearing one’s mind. Harry got back into his bed and shut his eyes, trying very hard to concentrate on nothing in particular and clear all thoughts out of his mind. It proved quite effective, and Harry found himself drifting off to sleep.

He awoke rather early the next morning; the sunlight was filtering into the small bedroom through the window behind his bed. Harry scratched his neck and sat up in bed; what he say lying on the ground shocked him.

There was a small container of yogurt with a note attached to it. Harry scrambled out of bed and snatched the note up. Hastily putting on his glasses, he read it to himself:

‘I love yogurt too. –Hermione.’

Harry fought the urge to burst out laughing as he remembered what he said last night. He had backed out of telling her how he felt at the very last moment and ended up sounding like a complete idiot. “At least she found it amusing,” he thought with an inward laugh. He folded her note and placed it under his pillow for safekeeping, and placed the yogurt on Ron’s desk.

Ron had obviously already left for Romania with his family – Harry found a small scrap of parchment addressed to him explaining the trip along with a hasty good bye. He smiled, happy knowing Ron would have a good holiday with his family. Harry wondered if Fred and George were paying for part or even this entire trip – their business was a huge success, and the Weasleys were quite poor. That used to be such a touchy subject with Ron, but over the years and with all the trouble in the wizarding world it had faded into the background along with many other petty issues.

Harry quickly cleared his mind – he didn’t want to start the day off by thinking about the troubles of the world. He grabbed a change of clothes and headed for the bathroom to take a shower before breakfast. After cleaning up, Harry took some extra time to check his appearance in the small mirror that hung on the wall. He knew he was being stupid – Hermione wasn’t a shallow girl and wouldn’t care about whether or not his hair was tamed or what he wore. However, he wanted to look good for her since she always looked great. Harry couldn’t help but wonder if her big “makeover” was just for him. He pulled himself out of his thoughts and away from the mirror to go downstairs for some breakfast.

The kitchen was absolutely empty when Harry arrived and his face fell. He had been hoping to meet Hermione in here – maybe even for a quick snog before anyone else came in for breakfast. He tried to remember who was all present at The Burrow, besides himself, since the Weasleys were gone. There was Hermione of course, and also Tonks; who’s current assignment was to watch and protect Harry and Hermione. An old Auror Harry didn’t know was staying in the attic, guarding headquarters and reporting to Dumbledore. Other members of the Order regularly came and went, but no one else resided at the house, at least no one Harry was aware of. Just as he was wondering if he and Hermione would be able to have some time alone, the subject of his thoughts walked into the kitchen.

“Morning, did you have a good sleep?” she asked with a smile.

“A good sleep, and a brilliant morning – I liked your note,” Harry replied with a smile of his own.

She gave a small laugh before saying, “Well, I do like yogurt too, although I don’t know if I’d go around proclaiming my love for it.” Hermione grinned as Harry blushed and moved towards the sink for a glass of water.

He drank his water slowly, watching her move about the kitchen making toast for the two of them. When she was finished she set a large plate of toast on the table, sat down, and began to eat at lightning speed. Harry sat down next to her and gave her a quizzical look. She merely shrugged and offered no explanation as she continued to eat. He grabbed a few slices of toast for himself and tucked in. They ate in a comfortable silence, both wondering how they’d spend their day. Harry could think of quite a few things he wanted to do; he cast a furtive glance over at Hermione as he wondered if she was thinking along the same lines as him.

A large tawny owl flew in through the open window near the sink. It circled the room once before dropping a letter onto the table right in between Harry and Hermione. The owl gave a quiet hoot and left through the same window it had entered. Harry could see that the letter was addressed to him and Hermione, and he reached for it at the exact same time she did.

“You take it,” they both said in unison. They laughed and Hermione pushed the letter towards Harry, nodding as she did.

He opened it quickly and read aloud, “Mr. Potter and Miss Granger, I hope everything is well with the both of you as you read this. I have arranged for your training to begin tomorrow afternoon; Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks and Alastor Moody will all oversee the training and instruct you along the way. They will meet you at The Burrow tomorrow at precisely noon; from there you will head to a designated area for your first session. Once again I stress the importance of this training, and ask that the both of you put forth your best effort. Stay safe, Albus Dumbledore.”

Harry looked up as he finished reading; he set the letter on the table and sighed. In truth, he didn’t know what to make of this “training program” Dumbledore had arranged for them. He was happy, however, to hear that Lupin, Tonks and Moody would be his instructors – all three were certainly qualified for the task, and Harry was especially fond of Lupin.

“Well,” he said as he watched Hermione reread the letter, “at least we have a day to ourselves before the work begins.”

She looked up from the letter and smiled. “I suppose we do, although to be honest, I’m a bit nervous about this training business.” She shook her head and returned to the letter before continuing, “but everything will be fine – Professor Lupin, Tonks and Professor Moody are all great wizards – they’ll teach us well.”

Harry nodded enthusiastically, hoping he looked confident so Hermione wouldn’t be nervous about it. He had hoped to have a talk with her sometime during the day about last night’s events, and he wanted her to be calm and relaxed. He stood up and offered her his hand.

“Shall we go for a walk, then?”

Hermione folded the letter, placed it on the table, and nodded before taking his extended hand. The two walked out of the kitchen and into the fresh morning light.

8. talks and tears

a/n: hello! I haven’t fallen off the planet or forgotten about this story- quite the contrary. I’m extremely sorry for not updating since last Thursday, but expect the chapters to come at their regular pace once again soon! Thank you so much for the reviews, and please keep them coming.

I just realized the title of this chapter sounds angsty and like a breakup or something – but have no fear, it’s nothing like that.

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chapter 8: talks and tears

Harry and Hermione walked around down to the creek in silence, listening to the distant sound of running water. They held hands as they walked and occasionally caught each other’s eye before turning away quickly. Harry wasn’t quite sure how to breach the topic he wanted to discuss with her. Once they reached the water, he decided to take the head-on blunt approach.

“Hermione,” he said, turning to face her. “Since we kissed last night I’ve been wanting to ask you something, but there hasn’t really been any good opportunity until now…” he trailed off and gave her a questioning look, as if asking permission to continue. Hermione stayed silence, and he took that for assent. “Well, I was just wondering if the kiss meant we were, er, going out?”

She smiled and kissed him quickly before replying, “I should hope so; I’m really not the ‘snog-and-run’ type and I don’t think you are either.”

Harry shook his head and grinned broadly. He gave her a kiss before pulling her in for a tight hug. After a long moment Hermione pulled away and said, “You know, I have a great idea for what our first act can be as a couple.” Harry’s grin broadened, if possible, as many thoughts swirled through his mind as he tried to think of what Hermione could be talking about.

“And what would that be?” he said, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

“Homework!”

“Wh-what? Homework?”

“Yes, homework – I haven’t done anything for Professor Snape or Professor Flitwick yet this summer, and I most certainly will not be returning to school without my work done!” She playfully slapped him on the arm before continuing, “And there you were thinking I was talking about something completely different – and don’t you try to deny it,” she said as he opened his mouth to protest, “I know the way your mind works!”

Harry might have thought she was mad at him, had she not been grinning the whole time she spoke. He gave her a sheepish smile before allowing himself to be dragged back up to The Burrow. He sighed inwardly. She had been right – he wasn’t expecting their first act as a couple to be sitting around doing homework; however this was Hermione after all, and he didn’t really mind doing a bit of work if it made her happy.

They reached the house after a short while and climbed the stairs to their respective bedrooms. Harry told Hermione he’d meet her in the lounge with his books, and then gave her hand a quick squeeze and a kiss on the cheek. He walked into his and Ron’s room and made his way over to his trunk. Harry had to dig for quite awhile before he found his Potions and Charms textbooks, and even longer to find enough parchment and a quill. Hermione had already started on her Potions essay by the time Harry reached the lounge with his supplies. She looked up from her parchment and gave him a warm smile before hastily scrawling another paragraph. He watched her work for awhile before starting his own essay. Harry found it difficult to concentrate when Hermione was in the room; he often found himself looking up to watch her write or check some fact in her textbook. After a particularly long bout of staring, he shook his head vigourously and returned to his essay.

Harry and Hermione worked for a solid hour before Harry announced that a break was in order. Hermione protested at first, claiming she only had a foot or so to go on her essay, but Harry was adamant and silenced her with a long kiss. When they broke apart, she said, “Fine, but it has to be a short break, and I’m only agreeing because you asked so nicely.” Harry grinned and went into the kitchen for some pumpkin juice. Something had been bothering him all afternoon, and he decided to bring it up with Hermione once he returned to the lounge with their drinks.

She thanked him for the juice and he sat down next to her on the couch. Harry decided to choose his words carefully; he wasn’t sure if this was a sensitive topic with her or not. “So, I was thinking before – about some stuff from the past – and I was just wondering about Viktor. Krum, that is,” he broke off and glanced at her. She just stared back at him and took another sip of her drink. “And, er, if you two were ever together or anything like that.”

Hermione took a long time to answer; Harry figured she too was choosing her words carefully. When she replied, it was in a calm voice. “We only ever went to the Yule Ball together and talked – I was never his girlfriend, if that’s what you’re asking.” Harry nodded, and she continued, “He did ask me to visit him over the summer, you know that already, but I never went. With Voldemort’s return and everything that had happened to you, I just figured I would be better off staying in England. I spent the summer at Grimmauld Place with the Order and you, of course.”

Harry felt very relieved to hear that Hermione and Viktor had only ever been friends. The thought of someone else being her boyfriend made his stomach clench unpleasantly.

“Break time is over, I need to return to my essay now,” stated Hermione. She looked across the table at Harry’s very short essay and said, “You really need to get back to work, Mr. Potter.”

“Yes, Professor Granger,” he said with a smirk. She slapped him on the arm, picked up her quill, and returned to her essay with renewed vigour. Harry followed suit and they were soon working in silence once again. Hermione finished her work first and went upstairs to put her books and supplies away. When she was out of the room, Harry took the opportunity to take a short break. He stretched and looked out the window and was surprised to see that the sun was setting. “Have we really been working that long?” he thought in mild confusion. Hermione came back into the lounge and sat down next to him on the couch.

“Almost done?” she asked.

“Yeah, just a couple more inches on Veritaserum to go.”

Harry finished his essay at last and ran up to deposit his books in Ron’s bedroom. He returned to the lounge and saw a very tired looking Hermione lying on the couch. Harry walked towards her, and she sat up to make room for him.

“No, stay where you are – I’ll just take an armchair,” he said, not wanting to disturb her.

“I’m fine, Harry, sit down.”

He shrugged and sat next to her; they shifted around until they were comfortable. Harry didn’t know how long they had been silent, but it was completely dark when Hermione sighed and said, “What aren’t you telling me, Harry?”

Harry was completely shocked by that one simple question. He wasn’t hiding anything from her, was he? Well, nothing except for the prophecy – but surely she didn’t know about that. “But you should have told her about it a long time ago,” the little voice in his head said. Harry stayed silent, not wanting to talk about something as depressing as the prophecy. Apparently, Hermione was not satisfied with his silence.

“I’ve only been your girlfriend for a day, but I’ve been your best friend for fives years – I know when you’re hiding something. And you, Harry Potter, have been hiding something for quite awhile now.” She finished by crossing her arms and sitting so she was facing Harry directly.

Deciding that he wasn’t going to win this one, Harry gave in and told her everything. He told her the story of what happened after she was attacked at the Department of Mysteries – how he panicked when she fell, the relief he felt when Neville said she had a pulse, watching Bellatrix torture Neville, seeing Sirius fall through the veil after his own cousin hit him with a curse, how the prophecy smashed after Neville accidentally kicked it, watching as Dumbledore battled Voldemort, and how he was possessed by Voldemort himself. Harry watched the different emotions that crossed her face as he let everything out – anger, fear, shock, and pain. By the time he was telling her how he wanted to die when Voldemort possessed him, the tears were openly cascading down her face. He realized with a jolt that his own tears were falling too, and quickly wiped his face with his arm.

When he finished his story, Hermione was silent for a few minutes as the tears continued to fall. She slowly looked up into his face and asked in a voice that was hardly above a whisper, “But that’s not what you’re keeping from me, is it?”

Harry stared straight into her eyes and shook his head, saying, “No, it’s not. There’s something else. Something I found out after all that happened, when we were back at Hogwarts. It’s the prophecy, Hermione; I know what it said.”

A puzzled look crossed her face and she said, “You said it smashed and that you and Neville couldn’t hear it over the battle.”

“You’re right - it did smash, and we couldn’t hear it then. Dumbledore told me exactly what the prophecy was after it all.”

“How did he know? He wasn’t there when it broke, was he?”

Harry shook his head and took a deep breath. “No, he wasn’t with us when the prophecy itself broke; he was the person the prophecy was originally told to. Sixteen years ago, none other than Professor Trelawney told it to him in Hogsmeade. And before you say anything about her ‘being an old fraud,’ I’ll have you know that part of the prophecy has already come true. I’m…I’m already marked…” he trailed off, looking at the floor. Harry felt the tears return, and he fought them with everything he had.

“Harry,” she said softly as she put a hand on his arm, “what did the prophecy say?”

He looked up abruptly and recited the prophecy word for word, figuring it was best to get it over with. Once finished, he returned to staring at the floor; he saw his tears forming a small puddle on the wood. Harry heard Hermione give a small sob and immediately felt guilty for making her cry. He pulled her into a tight hug, wanting to comfort her and stop her tears. She didn’t make any more noise, but Harry could still feel her tears soaking through his shirt and wetting his shoulder.

“I promise I’ll never leave you, Harry,” she choked out. She pulled away slightly and looked into his eyes.

Her simple yet profound sentence was the key to the floodgates. Harry was soon openly crying, sobbing in fact, onto her shoulder. His whole body racked as the grief, guilt, and pain washed through him and then out via his tears. Hermione never let go of him, she just rubbed his back and whispered the occasional words of comfort. She would never know how she helped him as she held him like that. Harry clung to her so tightly he felt as though he might be hurting her, but she said nothing. Eventually the tears stopped, but they remained on the couch clinging to each other until sleep overtook them.

Harry awoke quite a few hours later to a sharp pain in his stomach. He groggily looked around and spotted Hermione lying next to him with her arm across him. “She must have elbowed me by accident in her sleep,” he thought as he closed his eyes again. However he did not go back to sleep; the light was too bright in the lounge, and it was shining right into his face. He tried to get off the couch without waking Hermione, but once her arm was off his stomach she stirred.

“Where’re you going?” she asked with a yawn.

“Hermione, it’s already eleven – we’re meant to be ready for Lupin, Tonks, and Moody in an hour.”

Hermione jumped up and off the couch looking wide awake; she checked her watch and let out a yelp. She hugged him quickly before dashing up the stairs. Not a minute later, Harry heard the sound of the shower running. He smiled and went upstairs to Ron’s bedroom to gather some clean clothes. He took a shower in the smaller second bathroom and changed into the new outfit. Harry’s stomach gave a loud rumble and he remembered he and Hermione hadn’t even eaten dinner last night. As memories from the couch came back he flinched, wondering if Hermione would think he was weak for crying like that in front of her. “You’re being stupid, crying doesn’t make you weak,” Hermione’s voice scolded inside his head. Harry had to agree with her this time – he was being stupid about it – everyone cries. With that thought he walked into the kitchen to make breakfast.

Harry made bacon, eggs, and toast for Hermione and himself. He was just beginning to dig into his own plate when Hermione appeared, looking quite good for having stayed up half the night crying, Harry thought. She looked surprised at the food set out on the table.

“Dursleys,” he simply stated. She nodded before saying a quick thanks and starting on her own plate.

They made small talk as they ate; chatting about what training might include, how Ron and the Weasleys were holding up in Romania, and about their sixth year courses. Both avoided the topic of the prophecy and what happened last night, having reached an unspoken agreement not to talk about that for awhile. Their late breakfast was interrupted by the arrival of Lupin, Tonks, and Moody via portkey. Hermione jumped and dropped her fork as the three suddenly appeared in the small kitchen. Harry stood and hugged Lupin and Hermione, after recovering from the small shock, was hugged by Tonks; both shook Moody’s scarred hand.

“Ready to go, then?” Tonks asked with enthusiasm.

Harry looked over at Hermione, who nodded. “Yeah, do we need to bring anything?”

“Just your wands. It’s still quite hot outside, so I doubt you’ll need a jacket,” Remus replied.

Moody pulled out a bent spoon from a pocket in his cloak and held it out to the group. “You’d think they could find something a little bigger for five people,” Harry thought as he shuffled forward and put a finger on the portkey.

“Here we go,” came Tonks’ voice from Harry’s left. He felt the pull behind his navel, and they were soon flying. The five of them landed with a thud; Harry stumbled but managed to stay on his feet. He looked around and was immediately disoriented – they were in the middle of a clearing in a forest.

“Where are we?” he asked.

“A forest,” Moody replied.

“I know that, I mean where is this forest?”

There was a brief silence while Lupin and Tonks looked at one another, seemingly contemplating whether or not to inform Harry and Hermione of their location. However, it was Moody who replied once again.

“Hogwarts.”

9. training

a/n: As always, thank you reviewers – you guys all make me want to write. Enjoy the new chapter, and please leave a review too.

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chapter 9: training

Harry was surprised to hear they were at Hogwarts. He knew it was one of the safest establishments in the country, but part of him had expected some secret underground bunker in a remote location – not the Forbidden Forest. Hermione was sporting an expression of surprise as well; Harry figured she was thinking along the same lines as he was.

“Is this really a top secret location, then?” Harry asked the three adults present in the clearing.

“Actually, it is quite possibly the most secret location in Great Britain. I trust you both already know that Hogwarts is one of the most secure places you’ll find. Well, this particular clearing on the grounds is even more secure than the castle itself. It is protected by some of the most powerful magic in existence; it’s basically a magical bomb shelter. Not even an Unforgivable curse could penetrate the shields of this clearing. In other words, while in this area a person is completely shielded from all magic directed inwards from the outside. It has never been used for its original purpose, for no Dark wizard has ever dared to come within the grounds of Hogwarts in an attempt to cause damage. However, Professor Dumbledore felt that it would be perfect as a training location for the two of you, so here we are,” Lupin finished his explanation and took a deep breath.

“You seemed rather reluctant to tell Harry and I where exactly we were; why?” Hermione questioned.

“Because of the secrecy that surrounds this location, Granger. There’s no doubt in yours and Potter’s honour, however under the influence of Veritaserum there is no guarantee that the area could be kept secret,” replied Moody, his magical eye spiraling in its socket as the normal one focused on Hermione.

An uncomfortable silence followed Moody’s explanation; Hermione looked quite taken aback at the possibility of being under the influence of Veritaserum. Harry, too, was contemplating just how much damage could be done to himself, Hermione, and the Order if they were forced to drink the vile truth potion. Tonks broke the silence by clapping her hands together.

“Ready to begin?” she asked Harry and Hermione; both nodded their assent. “Good!” Tonks exclaimed, wringing her hands in apparent excitement. “We decided beforehand that this first session would be more of a review for you lot. Since you both founded that whole secret society last term I’m sure you’re both well advanced in your Defense Against the Dark Arts techniques and skills.” The two students nodded once again and Tonks continued, “Right. Well, today we’re going to practice a few basic defensive spells and counter-jinxes as well as some more advanced material.” She broke off and nodded at Lupin, who immediately took over where Tonks left off.

“Alastor came up with another idea to aid you in your training; in addition to our sessions here, you two will be practicing the art of Occlumency. You’ve already learned the basics, Harry; however there is no doubt room for improvement.” At Lupin’s words Harry hung his head, remembering with clarity his Occlumency lessons with Snape. Lupin noticed Harry’s demeanor and said, “It’s an important skill, Harry, and an invaluable one once perfected. Hermione, Harry will be helping you as best he can in the initial stages of your learning; Professor Dumbledore will continue with both of you shortly after.”

“Okay,” the two students said simultaneously.

The three Order members and the two students spent the better part of the day practicing defensive spells and jinxes. They had begun with some simple Jelly-Legs and Full Body Bind jinxes; however they soon progressed onto harder and more stressful magic. Harry had to admit, spending half an hour shooting Stunning spells and then reviving the fallen was rather tiring. Apparently Hermione agreed; after reviving Tonks with yet another, “Enervate!” she sat on the forest floor and closed her eyes. Lupin got the message and informed them they would begin work on some of the more volatile spells, such as the Impediment Jinx and the Stinging Hex. At first Harry felt bad about stinging Lupin, but he soon learned that after a quick healing spell performed by Tonks, Lupin would feel quite all right. The students improved rapidly; soon Harry was able to throw Lupin back a full thirty feet with his Impediment Jinx, and Hermione was actually brining tears to Auror Moody’s normal eye from the pain of her Furnunculus curse.

When darkness was descending upon the Forbidden Forest clearing, Lupin called the day’s session to an end. “Great work today, Harry, Hermione,” he said with a tired smile. “We’re not sure when the next session will be, but I’m sure Dumbledore will send word soon. Next time we meet you will be learning a very important but difficult skill; until then, please start your Occlumency lessons.”

Tonks and Moody were holding onto a portkey; Hermione walked over and grabbed hold and Harry made to move towards her when a hand on his shoulder halted him.

“If I may have a quick word, Harry,” Lupin requested. “You three go on ahead; Harry and I will take a separate portkey back to headquarters.”

Harry smiled and gave Hermione a quick wink before they left for The Burrow. He turned to see Lupin watching him carefully with a pensive look on his face. Lupin sat down upon a tree stump and motioned for Harry to take a seat nearby. Harry did, and sat silently waiting for Lupin to speak.

Remus cleared his throat and began in a somewhat shaky voice, “We really haven’t had the chance to talk since last term, and I wanted to ask you how you’re holding up, Harry.”

Harry looked away into the dense trees of the forest, watching the last rays of light play across the trunks and leaves of the ground. When he spoke, it was in a slightly monotonous voice, “I’ve been fine.” Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw a look of doubt briefly cross Lupin’s features. “Hermione’s helped me a lot with…with everything.”

“She’s really a great friend to you, isn’t she?” It was more of a statement than a question, and Harry noted the stress Lupin placed on the word ‘friend.’ He looked straight into the man’s eyes and replied.

“She is. My best friend, in fact.” He didn’t feel the need to elaborate on just how much Hermione meant to him, or how they had become more than “just friends” this summer. He wasn’t technically lying – Hermione was still his best friend and always would be; there was just the addition of the title “girlfriend” now.

Lupin nodded and fell silent again. The two sat in a companionable silence for a short while before Harry spoke again. “I do have some questions for you, if that’s all right.”

“Of course, I would expect nothing else.”

“What happened to Grimmauld Place? Why is the headquarters at The Burrow now?” His voice had lost the slight monotonous quality to it and he now sounded genuinely interested in the answers Lupin could provide.

“Grimmauld Place sealed itself after Sirius’ death, Harry. No one from the Order has been able to enter, and unless we get someone like Narcissa Malfoy or Bellatrix Lestrange to open the door, we can’t go in.” Harry saw rage flash in Lupin’s eyes as said the names of the two women. Lupin shook his head slightly and continued, “The Burrow was deemed a suitable location for headquarters by Professor Dumbledore. The Weasleys are a respectable wizarding family who were more than welcome to do anything they could to help the Order. Headquarters was reestablished at The Burrow the day after you returned from Hogwarts.”

Harry was surprised to hear that Grimmauld Place had closed itself, but not so surprised to hear the reasons for Dumbledore’s choice of new headquarters. There was one other question Harry was burning to ask, but it was a topic he didn’t think Lupin would want to visit. However, it was something he had to know whether or not everyone else approved.

“What happened to Sirius that night? Where did he go after…he fell?”

At Harry’s question Lupin closed his eyes and sighed; Harry watched him carefully and tried to gauge his reaction – he didn’t seem mad at him at least. Remus opened his eyes and Harry was slightly shocked to see tears forming.

“Forget about it; I’m sorry I asked,” Harry said hastily, not wanting to upset the man.

“No, it’s fine. I expected this question from you sooner or later. Besides, I need to learn to get a grip and not cry every time someone mentions his name.” He paused to wipe his eyes on the sleeve of his robes before continuing, “No one but those in the Department of Mysteries who study the subject of death could answer your question, Harry – not even Professor Dumbledore himself. In reality, no one person has all the answers to something as intricate and complicated as the veil you saw Sirius fall through. He died that night, we know that much. How he died and where he went after he fell is another matter altogether. I’m sorry I cannot answer your question more adequately, Harry, but know this – it wasn’t your fault, and it never will be.”

It was Harry who now had tears forming in his eyes and a lump in his throat. As he looked into the eyes of the last true Marauder he realized that he wasn’t the only one who felt the pain of Sirius’ death; Lupin had now lost his two true best friends at the hand of Voldemort and his servants. Lupin pulled away and stood, holding out a hand to Harry.

“It’s time we head back to The Burrow, knowing Alastor he’s ready to send out a search party for us,” Lupin said with a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Harry smiled in return and took his hand. Remus held out a feather that looked oddly like one of Buckbeak’s. Harry gave him a quizzical look; Lupin shrugged and replied, “He sheds.” Harry smiled again and took hold of the feather, feeling better knowing he was going “home” to Hermione.

Moments later, Harry and Lupin arrived in the kitchen of The Burrow. Moody immediately summoned Lupin and Tonks off to the side for a discussion, and Harry went straight to Hermione. He wanted to kiss her, but felt uncomfortable with the three adults present. They still hadn’t told anyone about the developments in their friendship, and Harry found that kissing her in front of the Order members probably wasn’t the best way to go about informing them. Instead, he settled for a platonic hug that lasted just a few seconds longer than necessary.

“Are you okay?” she asked as they separated.

“Yeah; we just talked about a few things – Sirius, mainly,” he replied casually; although seeing the somewhat surprised look on her face he gathered it wasn’t really a casual topic.

“I didn’t know that’s what he wanted to talk to you about,” she said in a low voice.

“Well, he asked me how I was feeling, and we ended up talking about him. It’s really not a big deal, I’m fine about it.”

Obviously satisfied enough, Hermione nodded. Tonks hustled over to them and hugged Hermione before saying a quick good bye. “There’s some Order business that needs to be taken care of immediately, I’ll be back later but you might not see Remus and Alastor until the next training session.” Just then Lupin and Moody moved towards the group and took turns shaking Harry and Hermione’s hands.

“Expect an owl from Professor Dumbledore soon; he’ll let you know when the next session will be,” Lupin said as he shook Harry’s hand.

Moody moved to shake Harry’s hand as well, saying, “Constant vigilance, Potter.” Once Harry and Hermione had assured Moody that they would indeed practice constant vigilance, the old Auror, Tonks, and Lupin took their leave. Hermione sighed and sat down in one of the kitchen chairs; Harry walked over to the sink and poured himself a glass of water before sitting down next to her. They sat in a comfortable silence and watched the sun set through the kitchen window. The silence was interrupted by the arrival of a very familiar looking owl.

“It’s Pig!” Harry exclaimed as the tiny owl swooping in through the open window and landed with a thud on the table. He hastily untied the scroll of parchment that was attached to the owl’s miniscule leg and Pig immediately took off for the sink and a well earned drink. Harry read the letter aloud to Hermione.

Harry and Hermione,

Romania has been bloody amazing so far! Charlie took Fred, George, Ginny, and I to work the other day, and we got to see some amazing dragons – we even saw a Hungarian Horntail, Harry. Brings back some good memories, eh? We also learned about some boring Romanian history that I’m sure you’d devour, Hermione.

You won’t believe who decided to come with us at the last moment – Luna! We saw her just as we were about to leave, and Mum invited her to come along. She accepted, of course, and she’s sharing a room with Ginny now. We’re actually having a good time together so far; she’s not too ‘Loony’ after all, ha ha.

Fred and George are going spare without their products here, but Lee Jordan is taking care of the store in Diagon Alley for the rest of our holiday. Ginny already wants to work there after she’s done with school, but I told her not to tell Mum that just yet – we don’t need her angry on this trip. Apparently Fred and George have invented a new product though, it’s supposed to be used on two close friends – it broadcasts their true feelings towards one another, even the stuff that is never said aloud. I was thinking you two should try it, might do you both some good (wink wink, Harry).

Luna, Ginny, and I are going down to the pool now. Ginny’s brining parchment and I have no idea why; it’s like she’s turning into you, Hermione – doing work on a holiday! Actually, I think she’s writing letters, but I have no idea who they’re to since she broke up with Dean a couple of weeks ago. Right, well Luna’s calling so I’d better go. Write back soon, we all miss you guys.

Ron

Harry smiled as he folded up the letter; he was happy Luna went along with the Weasleys, she deserved a good time as much as anyone else did.

“Sounds like he’s happy there,” Hermione stated with a smile of her own.

“Definitely; it’s good that Luna’s there too,” he replied.

“Maybe something will happen between them,” she said, her smile turning into a wicked-looking grin. Harry noticed it was definitely a different smile than she usually wore.

“What, friends becoming something more? No way…” he trailed off with a grin.

“You’re right; things like that never happen these days. So I’m just going to get up and leave my best friend here all by himself to-” she was cut off as Harry kissed her like he had wanted to do since they returned to headquarters.

Has it really been so long since we last did this? Bloody hell, I promise to never go a whole day without kissing her again. I wonder if she feels the same way I do when we kiss…yeah okay I think she does.

His thoughts were swirling rapidly through his mind, and all he knew at that moment was Hermione, holding Hermione, and kissing Hermione.

“I love you,” he barely whispered against her lips.

She pulled back slightly to look him in the eyes before replying, “I love you too.”

10. our own personal prison

a/n: Thanks for the reviews *smiles affectionately at all who leave one*

FYI: East Horsley is a small town in Surrey where I used to live – that’s why I chose it for a location in this chapter. Don’t think I have anything against the people there (you’ll understand once you read the chapter…)

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chapter 10: our own personal prison

Harry was ecstatic to hear Hermione say those four simple words, “I love you too.” He looked straight into her eyes and saw tears forming; he was sure there were tears in his own eyes as well. Harry leaned in to kiss her again, but just as his lips met Hermione’s a muffled thud from the lounge broke them apart. The two stood up and reached for their wands in unison, both facing the door with their wands at the ready. Harry heard footsteps coming towards the kitchen; his heart was beating like mad, his hand was slightly shaky, and his thoughts were racing. No one is meant to be here at this time…how did they get in? No one can Apparate or Disapparate in or around the Order’s headquarters…what if it’s a group of Death Eaters out to get me? What if it’s Voldemort himself? Oh god, I have to protect Hermione from them…

His desperate thoughts were cut short by the appearance of three unexpected people in the kitchen doorway – Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall, and Severus Snape; Dumbledore and McGonagall looked grave and Snape had his usual scowl of distaste plastered on his face.

“I am afraid we bring some bad news,” Dumbledore began without so much as a ‘hello.’ “There has been a large scale attack on a town in Surrey, led by none other than Bellatrix Lestrange. At least 100 Muggles were killed in the attack with a further 25 injured; the Dark Mark was seen floating above 42 homes and one grammar school.”

Harry was confused; while he was shocked by this attack, he wondered what it had to do with him and Hermione. He glanced over at her and saw a mix of shock and confusion in her eyes as well. Apparently, Dumbledore sensed the two students’ confusion.

“You are probably wondering why I have come to share this information with you.” Harry and Hermione nodded, and Dumbledore continued, “A note was discovered among the rubble of one destroyed home; this note was addressed to myself and mentioned both of you in a less than nice manner.” He pulled a folded piece of parchment from the inside of his robes and held it out to Harry, who took it and hastily unfolded it; he held it out for Hermione to read along with him. It looked as though it had been written in a hurry; there were ink splotches dotted around the parchment and some words were hard to make out.

Dumbledore~

The Dark Lord sends his regards to you and your Muggle-loving subservient fools. Consider this a preview of things to come, for life will soon become much more complicated for you and wizards opposed to the Dark Lord everywhere. It’s not just useless Muggles who will feel the effects of us; you know that as well as anyone – your Precious Potter and his ‘superstar friends’ the Mudblood and the Weasel as well as countless other pathetic wizards and witches will soon feel the wrath of the Dark Lord and his loyal followers.

Azkaban is nothing more than a joke now; soon the Dark Lord’s faithful servants will rejoin him once again and we will reign supreme over the wizarding world.

Say hello to Potter for me; I’m sure he’s dying to hear from his godfather’s cousin.

~Bellatrix~

Harry crushed the letter in his hand before throwing it onto the ground and slamming his fist onto the table in anger. Hermione took his now throbbing hand into hers and shook her head slowly at him. He felt the anger recede slightly, and turned to face Dumbledore and the others once again.

“What town did they attack?” Harry asked the three professors, his voice strained.

“The attack was focused on East Horsley,” Professor McGonagall replied.

“That’s - that’s right by Little Whinging!” he spluttered in shock.

“Precisely why they chose it, Harry,” came Dumbledore’s calm reply. “An attempt to intimidate you; although I’m not exactly sure why – you’ve never been fond of the Dursleys…”

Harry didn’t find Dumbledore’s small attempt to lighten the situation all too funny. Sure he didn’t like the Durselys, but he’d never wish death upon them – especially not death by Voldemort or his Death Eaters. He glared at the headmaster for a moment before speaking again.

“So what are we meant to do now? I thought Hermione and I were already safe here at headquarters.”

“Yes, you are indeed protected here inside the house; I have cast only the most powerful magical wards in order to keep the two of you safe. However, it appears that Voldemort has devised methods of finding you as soon as you step outside of this house; even if it is just one step out into the garden, he’ll know and find you. The two of you must not leave this house alone under any circumstances, I cannot stress that enough,” Dumbledore finished gravely.

Harry wasn’t all too keen on the idea of being trapped inside the Order headquarters day and night; it reminded him of living in his own little small room at the Dursleys’ house. The fact that Hermione would at least be with him this time made the situation much, much better. He looked over and smiled weakly at the girl of his current thoughts, who smiled in return. Harry saw Professor Snape shoot a look at Professor McGonagall, who in turn gave Professor Dumbledore said look. He couldn’t help but wonder if they were able to sense something different about his and Hermione’s relationship; the looks they were giving each other and himself and Hermione were certainly unsettling. Harry wasn’t ashamed to let the world know Hermione was his girlfriend - far from it - he simply was aware of the fact that if the Order knew they were together in a romantic way, he and Hermione would never get to stay ‘home alone’ at headquarters. He felt Hermione shift uncomfortably next to him; she was obviously aware of the conspicuous glances they were receiving.

“I am under the impression that this will not be a problem for either of you,” Dumbledore stated plainly. Both Harry and Hermione nodded their assent; Dumbledore clapped his hands together as he said, “Good! I regret to inform you that there are currently no available Order members to watch over you; they are all working overtime on the clean-up of the attack zone. However, I have utmost trust and respect for you, Harry and Hermione, so I presume that excess supervision is not necessary by any means.”

“No, sir, we’ll be all right by ourselves,” Hermione said confidently; she turned her head so the three professors couldn’t see her face and gave Harry a quick smile before returning her attention to Professor Dumbledore. And what was that smile about?

Apparently satisfied with Hermione’s answer alone, Dumbledore nodded and motioned for Professors McGonagall and Snape to return to the lounge. Before following his co-workers, Dumbledore said, “Remember my words carefully; if you need to contact a member of the Order, send that intelligent owl of yours or speak via the Floo Network - you are not to leave this house.”

Harry and Hermione stood silently in the kitchen for a moment, waiting for Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape to take their leave via portkey. Once he was sure they were out of the house, Harry turned to face Hermione and said, “Welcome to our own personal prison, Miss Granger.”

She laughed lightly and replied, “Nonsense, The Burrow is by no means a prison, Harry,” she paused for a moment, then added, “Then again, after awhile of being trapped in here with only you as company, it’s bound to turn into an insane asylum.”

He laughed and pulled her into a tight hug. “As long as you’re safe, Hermione, I don’t care where we are,” he said as his laughter died down. She pulled away slightly from his embrace and smiled warmly.

“I’m starving,” Hermione stated as she fully left Harry’s arms and walked over to the kitchen counter. “Let’s have some dinner.”

The two students worked in the kitchen for a solid half hour, preparing dinner and talking occasionally. Harry was preoccupied; he couldn’t help but wonder where Bellatrix and the other Death Eaters who attacked the Muggles were situated at the moment. He knew there had been a fair few attacks on Muggles during the previous war, however Harry had never heard of one as fatal as the latest. At least 100 dead…but why? Why attack people who were virtually helpless and literally oblivious to the fact that there’s a war raging all around them? He continued to stir the pot of potatoes on the stove vigourously as his thoughts wandered. Why not attack a wizarding location? Because then people would be able to defend themselves, said the darker voice inside his head. It wouldn’t be an easy massacre then, and wouldn’t make a bold statement – after all, that’s Voldemort’s style isn’t it? Ruthless, pointless, cold-blooded killing. Harry slammed the wooden spoon down onto the counter and whipped around to face a surprised looking Hermione.

“He doesn’t care, does he?” he spat out as he punched the nearest wall in overwhelming anger. “He doesn’t give a damn about the people’s lives he ruins, the families he tears apart, the children’s parents he kills!” Harry looked down to see his fist bleeding profusely, but he felt no pain at all. “You see this, Hermione? Do you see the blood coming from my hand? Well I don’t feel any of the pain it’s supposed to cause me, none at all. The pain of a cut on my hand is absolutely nothing compared to what I feel inside every time someone I love dies!” He angrily flicked his wrist and sent droplets of blood flying onto the kitchen floor and counter. Harry looked up into her eyes again, expecting to see pity or sadness; what he saw instead pierced him to his very core – fear. Harry felt his anger dissipate as fast as it had come, replaced by guilt. I never meant to scare her…

Harry crossed the kitchen in a few quick steps and pulled Hermione into another bone-crushing embrace. “I’m so sorry, Hermione, please…” he trailed off, not trusting his voice at the moment. He cleared his throat and continued in a soft voice, “Please don’t be scared, I’m not mad anymore; you know I’d never, ever hurt you.”

“That’s not what I’m scared of, Harry,” she replied in barely a whisper; she looked up into his eyes and said, “I’m scared that you’ll hurt yourself.”

“I would never cause damage to myself intentionally, I-”

“Look at your hand,” she interjected in that same quiet voice.

Harry pulled away from Hermione and look at his blood stained hand. He hadn’t felt any pain previously, however it hit him full force now; he winced as his hand gave a particularly nasty throb.

Hermione saw him wince and said, “Harry, I love you more than anything else in this world, and I can’t stand to see your hurt; you know that already.” She paused for a moment. “Now let me clean you up.”

He merely nodded, not seeing any point in arguing with her. Hermione led him over to one of the kitchen chairs and sat him down before turning towards the kitchen sink. Harry noticed a red stain on her pure white shirt and briefly wondered what it was before he realized it was his own blood.

“I’m sorry about your shirt, Hermione.” And for scaring the hell out of you…

She turned around and looked at her back; an expression of mild surprise crossed her face as she too noticed the blood stain. “It’ll come out,” she said with a shrug, turning back to the sink. After another moment Hermione walked towards Harry with a washcloth, saying, “You must have quite a good punch; you managed to cut yourself up good.”

“My punch probably has nothing on yours,” Harry said with a slight smile, “Or have you forgotten the infamous punch from third year?”

Hermione actually grinned and blushed before replying. “How could I forget the day I almost broke ferret boy’s nose?” Harry laughed and she continued, “That was one of the best feelings I’ve ever experienced.”

“Even I felt amazing after that punch, Hermione!”

She grinned again as she carefully took his damaged hand into hers and proceeded to meticulously tend to the cuts scattered across his knuckles. After a minute of silence and occasional flinches on Harry’s part, Hermione muttered, “This would be so much easier if I could just use magic.” Harry nodded his agreement – it was definitely nice having Hermione tend to him in such a genuine caring manner, but the pain of the Muggle method of healing was no picnic.

“There!” she exclaimed after a few more minutes of tending to him. Hermione inspected Harry’s bandaged hand with a critical eye and said, “Well it doesn’t look as nice as it would if I’d been able to use magic, but I’d say it’s much better than a bunch of bleeding wounds, wouldn’t you?”

“Definitely,” Harry replied with a grin. “You did a brilliant job, Healer Hermione.”

“That actually has a nice ring to it,” Hermione said, biting her lower lip.

“Well, you would make a good Healer - or doctor, even - at least I think you would.”

“Thanks, Harry. I was thinking about choosing healing as a profession last term when we had Careers Advice with Professor McGonagall, but I went with the Auror track instead.”

“That’s what I chose too, although Umbridge didn’t agree with me…”

Hermione made a noise of indignation and replied, “Well then you know you were right if that old hag thought you were wrong. You’d make a great Auror, Harry,” she finished affectionately.

“So would you; then again you’d be good at any job you choose,” he said with a laugh.

“Well aren’t you just full of compliments tonight!”

“I could compliment you forever, my dearest Hermione,” Harry said in a melodramatic tone as he pulled her down into his lap.

“Oh, Harry,” she replied as she pretended to swoon into his arms. “I didn’t know you were such a romantic.”

“I’m a natural Romeo, Hermione!”

Hermione actually snorted with laughter at that. “Tell that to Cho!” Harry blushed and grinned sheepishly, realizing she had a point. I’ll show her romantic! He surprised her by pulling her into a passionate kiss; when he felt her hands in his hair and heard her moan into his mouth, Harry couldn’t help but think, not laughing now, are you, Hermione? When they finally broke apart, Harry was grinning like a fool and Hermione was actually panting. Panting! Ha!

“Okay, okay, so maybe you are a bit of a natural Romeo,” she said in between breaths. Harry’s grin turned into a smirk as he kissed her neck; Hermione sighed contentedly but said, “But even if you were Romeo himself, I’d still want to have dinner now!” And with that she jumped up from his lap and ran to the now surely ruined pot of potatoes on the stove.

11. delicious

a/n: I’m very sorry for the long wait; hopefully the fluff at the end of the chapter will help to make up for it. As always, thank you for the reviews!

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chapter 11: delicious

Despite the ruined potatoes, dinner was quite enjoyable; Harry and Hermione sat together at the kitchen table consuming their meal in relative silence. However, Harry found it somewhat difficult to maneuver his fork using his bandaged hand. Well, it serves you right, said Hermione’s voice inside his head. He smiled to himself, knowing she was right as always. Her voice startled him out of his reverie.

“What’s so funny?” she asked with a half smile adorning her features.

“Nothing’s funny; just thinking about you and how you’re always right,” he replied with a grin.

“Not always,” she scoffed, “Just most of the time.” Hermione smiled at him and returned to her food.

“True, very true,” he said before returning to his own plate.

A few more minutes passed; the silence in the kitchen only broken by the clinking of forks and knives on plates. Harry caught Hermione watching his attempt to cut his chicken using his injured hand with an amused look upon her face, and immediately pretended to scowl at her, resulting in her laughing loudly before she reached over and helped him. A moment later, Hermione took a long sip of pumpkin juice, put down her glass, and sighed loudly.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked, his voice laden with concern. Hermione was silent for a while, apparently gathering her thoughts, before she answered.

“Do you really believe we’re safe in here?” Hermione began slowly, “I mean, if Voldemort has ways of finding us as soon as we step outside, what’s so safe about inside?” she finished in an anxious tone.

“Well, I don’t trust Professor Dumbledore when it comes to informing us about Order business, but I do trust him with my life. Besides, we both know he’s an extremely powerful wizard; surely the wards around The Burrow are strong enough to keep us safe…” he trailed off sounding unsure.

“You’re right, Harry,” she said in a more confident voice than his, “Everyone always says Professor Dumbledore was and is the only one Voldemort ever feared; obviously there’s a reason behind that.”

“Yeah, exactly; we have nothing to worry about,” Harry said as he finished his food. He stood up and walked over to the sink with his plate and empty glass. Hermione joined him at the sink with her plate and they washed the dishes in silence. When Harry was drying his hands with a dish towel, he said, “Let’s write back to Ron; I’m sure Hedwig is feeling restless by now – she hasn’t been outside in ages and it’s about time she had a job.”

“Good idea, and if it’s all right with you, I’d like to send a note to Ginny as well – girl stuff, you know.”

“Actually, I don’t know what ‘girl stuff’ is, seeing as I’m not a girl, but of course you can use Hedwig to send her a letter.” Harry was curious about this letter Hermione wanted to send Ginny. He knew they were close friends, but he had never thought she was into “girl talk.”

“Thanks, Harry!” she exclaimed as she hugged him tight around the waist. “Come on; let’s get some parchment and a quill.” They held hands as they walked upstairs to Harry and Ron’s bedroom; Harry went straight over to his trunk and pulled out a couple rolls of parchment and two quills. He paused briefly as he stood up and caught sight of his bed; it was suddenly strange to have Hermione in his bedroom like this. She had been in Ron’s room with him many times before, but it wasn’t like before anymore; now she could possibly be in there for much different reasons. Harry shook his head quickly before his train of thought flew straight into the gutter; now’s not the time for thinking those thoughts, he admonished himself. He turned and handed a roll of parchment and a quill to Hermione before taking her hand in his again and returning to the lounge. Harry stretched out on the floor, comfortably lying on his stomach as he began writing; Hermione took a seat in an armchair, sitting sideways with her parchment on her legs.

Ron,

Hermione and I are both happy to hear that Luna went with you to Romania; sounds like you’re all having a wicked time so far. Anything ‘happen’ between you and her yet, mate? We both think she’s always had a bit of a thing for you; if you know what we mean, ha ha.

Harry paused for a moment, contemplating whether or not to tell Ron about his and Hermione’s new relationship. He wanted to, of course, Ron was his other best friend, but there was always a chance that the letter would be read by someone else. Harry imagined the damage that would be done if the letter fell into the hands of the twins, or, even worse, Mrs. Weasley.

“Hermione,” Harry said, looking up from his parchment. She jumped slightly and looked up from her own letter to Ginny. “I was just trying to decide whether or not we should tell Ron about the, er, change in our relationship.”

“You mean you don’t know whether or not you want him to know we’re going out,” she answered bluntly.

“No! I mean, I want him to know, but I don’t know if it’s something that should be said in a letter that could possibly be read by other people. You know how we’re trying to keep this a secret; at least until we return to school. I don’t want out chances to be alone to be ruined by a letter.”

“Well,” Hermione said, biting her lip and looking as though she was deep in thought, “it’s just that it’s Ron we’re talking about here. He might be angry or feel left out if we keep something like this – something this big – from him for a long time like this…”

“Even if he is a bit upset at first, he’ll come around eventually,” Harry replied, very much hoping he was correct.

“You’re absolutely right, Harry, he always calms down in time.”

“Yeah, exactly what I mean.” Even though it sometimes takes a lot of time, Harry thought as he remembered the whole Triwizard Tournament fiasco. He watched as Hermione returned to her letter before concentrating on his own note to Ron once again.

Fred and George’s new product sounds interesting; I can think of two friends who would be perfect test subjects – one’s a bold but funny guy, and one’s a different yet intelligent girl.

Harry thought that if Ron couldn’t get that hint, he was even thicker than he was when it came to girls and love. He shook his head and returned to his letter with a grin.

Neither of us know what could be up with Ginny, but it’s probably nothing big; maybe she’s just in a strange mood. Hermione is writing her a separate letter; Ginny will probably tell her what, if anything, is going on. Anyway, say hello to Luna and the rest of your family for us; we miss you, Ron.

Best,

Harry and Hermione

He stood up and stretched as he re-read the finished letter. Satisfied with the end result, Harry walked over to Hermione’s chair, saying, “Finished the letter to Ron; I thought you’d probably want to read it before I sent it off with Hedwig.” He stole a glance at her letter to Ginny, but all he saw was Hermione neatly signing her name at the bottom of quite a lot of writing before she rolled up the parchment.

“Thanks, I’d love to read it. I finished my letter to Ginny as well,” she replied with a smile. Harry matched her smile with one of his own as he handed over the letter to Ron. He watched as she read it with a smile playing on her lips; she soon finished, and Harry noted that her smile had become a rather mischievous looking grin.

“He had better get that hint you threw in there about him and Luna,” she said as she held out both the letter to Ron and the one to Ginny.

“My thoughts exactly,” he replied, taking the two rolls of parchment from her outstretched hand. There was a moment’s silence between the two of them as the atmosphere of the lounge suddenly changed from relaxed and peaceful to distinctly filled with tension. Harry got the strange feeling that he was almost obligated to do or say something to break the sudden tension of the room.

“Well,” was all he managed. That did the trick…not.

“It’s late,” Hermione stated, obviously feeling the change in atmosphere as well.

“Are you tired?”

“Little bit, yeah.”

“D’you want to go to bed, then?”

“I suppose so.” Why can’t she give me a straight answer? he wondered in mild amusement.

“Okay, let’s go.” Harry held out the hand that was not carrying the parchment and quills and Hermione took it; they made their way to the upstairs corridor. They reached the door to Hermione’s room in a relatively short amount of time, and she turned to look at Harry. Judging by the way her brow was furrowed and how she was biting her lip, Harry figured she was thinking particularly hard about something. Usually he would have let her think in silence, but tonight Harry was feeling quite antsy.

“Er, is something wrong, Hermione?” he asked tentatively, not really wanting to disturb her. Hermione jumped again, and Harry noted that was the second time tonight she was startled when he addressed her. Apparently I’m not the only antsy one here.

“No,” she began slowly, “but…well it’s just that…oh, I don’t know how to say this without sounding either stupid or extremely forward…” Hermione trailed off as she looked away from Harry’s face. It was a rare occurrence when Hermione Granger was worried about sounding “stupid” or “forward,” and that fact did not go unnoticed by Harry.

“You’re far from stupid, and you don’t need to worry about sounding too ‘forward’ with me,” Harry stated plainly as he tried to look her in the eyes.

“Fine, I’ll say it. I was wondering if you might want to sleep with me tonight,” she asked tentatively. Obviously seeing the look of shock that was plastered on Harry’s face she added quickly, “I meant in my room. Like, if you would stay in my room with me. Tonight. Not – not the other thing.”

Harry had momentarily felt his heart jump straight into his throat when she asked him to sleep with her. Of course that was something he wanted eventually, but the shock of Hermione asking him such a question was overwhelming. He couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed when she explained herself, but that disappointment was quickly replaced by guilt at having felt that way.

“I – yes, Hermione; I’ll...sleep with you tonight.” That was probably the most awkward thing I’ve ever said to her.

“Okay,” Hermione replied very much sounding as though she didn’t expect him to say yes. Who would say no to a question like that? Harry thought incredulously. She turned around and pulled him into her room before closing the door with a rather loud slam that caused Harry to nearly jump out of his skin. “Sorry,” she said with a small laugh. Harry mentally berated himself for being so jumpy, and willed his mind and body to calm down. He vaguely registered that his palms were clammy and his hands were slightly shaky. I’m only sleeping in her room, get a grip! She’ll probably have me sleep on the floor or something, he thought as he looked around the room. A small single bed with a white duvet was situated on the far wall of the bedroom, and a mattress with another white duvet lay on the floor beside it. A large wardrobe covered an entire wall with a writing desk against the opposite wall. It was a small room overall, but cozy and effective none the less.

Hermione let go of his hand and walked over to the wardrobe; she stood on her toes, opened the top drawer, and pulled out what must have been her pajamas. She turned to look at him with an odd expression on her face. Once again, she was biting her lower lip, but it didn’t appear as though she was deep in thought this time, at least not to Harry.

“Don’t you, um, have to change?” she asked. Harry realized what her odd expression was for – she didn’t want to change in front of him, which was understandable. After all, he himself wasn’t entirely comfortable yet.

“Oh – yeah – I’ll be right back,” he answered and walked towards the exit. Harry fumbled with the door handle for a moment before it opened and he left Hermione’s room. He shut the door behind him and drew in a shaky breath, wondering what on earth was wrong with him. Harry took another flight of stairs to the top level of The Burrow and his and Ron’s bedroom; he crossed the small room to his trunk and pulled out a pair of pajama pants. As he undressed and pulled on the pants, he debated on whether or not to put on a tee shirt as well. What’s proper for situations like this? I’m kind of skinny...but Hermione doesn’t care about that. Will it make her uncomfortable, though? No, it shouldn’t, she’s been with me when I was wearing a swim suit – and I didn’t have a shirt on then. But then again I really wouldn’t know if she was uncomfortable at that time, seeing as I never bothered to ask her. Should I have asked her? No way, people don’t swim in bloody tee shirts just because they don’t want to make their friends uncomfortable. Do they sleep in tee shirts? I’ve just gone full circle, this is insane. Harry shook his head forcefully and decided to not wear a shirt; he picked up his wand from the floor and padded downstairs to Hermione’s door.

He knocked lightly and said, “Can I come in? It’s Harry.” Of course it’s Harry; who else would it be? I’m such an idiot.

“Yes,” he heard Hermione answer. Harry opened the door and slipped inside before closing it with care, not wanting to slam it like Hermione had before. He saw her standing in the center of the room, pulling her hair into a messy pony tail. Apparently Hermione had the same taste in pajamas as he did; her pants were red and white like his and she, too, was barefoot. She had a white tee shirt on though, of course, but had Harry worn one it would have been the same colour and they would have been identical. That’s just a little creepy, he thought in mild humour. Hermione finished fixing her hair and took a moment to look him up and down. Feeling somewhat self conscious, Harry crossed his arms in front of his chest and blushed. At this, Hermione rolled her eyes and crossed the short distance to stand directly in front of him.

“Honestly, Harry, you look just fine,” she said as she pulled his arms away from his chest. Just fine? Harry was surprised to find himself thinking. “Actually,” Hermione continued suddenly sounding shy and lowering her voice, “’Just fine’ doesn’t really do you justice. You look…well, now don’t laugh, but you look sexy,” she finished as she blushed. The absolute last thing Harry wanted to do at that moment was laugh; instead he grinned broadly before enclosing Hermione in his arms and kissing her lightly.

He had fully intended to let her go after a quick kiss, but it soon became apparent that this wasn’t just a quick kiss; it quickly deepened and before Harry knew it, his hands were running up and down her back and hers were tightly clutching his shoulders. At some point standing just wasn’t good enough for the two of them, and Hermione began to lead him back towards the bed. Harry’s thoughts were swirling at breakneck speed, but he did manage to wonder in amazement how Hermione seemed to almost transform when they were together like this. They unceremoniously fell back onto the bed and were forced to break the kiss as they shifted to find a comfortable position.

Harry quickly learned that there were very few greater experiences out there than lying on top of your girlfriend on a bed. Delicious, he thought as he attacked her neck with his tongue while she sighed and whispered her appreciation into his ear. He was just working up the courage to move his hand under her shirt when they were both startled by an extremely loud noise and the rumbling of the walls around them.

12. whisper words of wisdom

a/n: Thanks for the reviews last chapter; they’re much appreciated. The title of this one is a line from a song by The Beatles; it seemed to fit. Please leave a review after reading, cheers!

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chapter 12: whisper words of wisdom

Harry and Hermione jumped as the bed lurched forward into the shaking wall; they stayed completely still for a full minute before the walls stopped rumbling. Harry looked down at Hermione and saw a look of both fear and surprise upon her face. She raised an eyebrow at him and he immediately scrambled to get off of her and the bed. Just as he was about to hold out a hand to help her up, there was the sound of another explosion in the distance and the walls shook again. Harry was knocked off of his feet and found himself lying on the bedroom floor watching the ceiling lights flicker and sway back and forth. Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Hermione shakily sit up in bed and turn to face him with an alarmed expression.

“What’s happening?” she asked in a whisper Harry could barely hear.

“No idea,” he said and paused before continuing, “Maybe the wards are acting out.” In his mind, though, a far more sinister explanation was lurking. “Come here,” he said as the walls stopped shaking for a second time. Hermione jumped off the bed and helped Harry to his feet. He couldn’t help but smile weakly when he took in her disheveled appearance, and judging from the slight gleam in her eyes, he didn’t look much neater. He grabbed her hand and picked up his discarded wand from the ground; he saw her do the same before nodding at him. Harry led them out of the bedroom and into the corridor towards a small window. What he saw as he looked outside into the front garden made his stomach twist unpleasantly and his heart jump into his throat.

Three wizards, clad in all black robes, were pacing back and forth with their wands held high in the air. One of them stopped moving and rolled up the sleeves of his robes, exposing his pale forearms, one of which had an ugly tattoo branded upon it; it was then that Harry knew exactly who these people were.

“Death Eaters,” came Hermione’s terrified whisper from right behind him. Harry nodded slowly without taking his eyes off of the three men. One of the Death Eaters turned to face the others and said something while pointing in the general vicinity of The Burrow.

“They can’t see the house…why are they here?” Harry asked Hermione in a quiet voice, hoping she’d have some sort of explanation for the events unfolding before their eyes.

“They probably have some idea of where The Burrow is meant to be, but I have no clue as to why they’re here – only a few members of the Order know we’re staying in the house,” she whispered into his ear. Harry vaguely wondered why they were keeping their voices down when there was no way they could be heard by the Death Eaters outside. Just as he was about to say as much, the three wizards in the garden joined their wands at the tips and simultaneously mouthed an incantation. A blinding red light flashed through the night sky illuminating the garden and house. The loud explosion-like sound that Harry previously heard sounded again and the entire house seemed to rock violently. Harry spun around and grabbed Hermione in an attempt to steady her, but the house was moving too much and they clumsily fell to the ground.

The rumbling stopped abruptly and Harry heard shouts coming from the front garden. He couldn’t see through the window from his position on the floor, but he saw different coloured lights flashing across the wall in front of him and figured there was some sort of battle taking place. Harry moved to stand up and get outside as fast as possible; he wanted to fight and help whoever was in need of it, but a strange pressure on his back kept him in place.

“What the…” he trailed off as he realized that it was Hermione grasping his back in a desperate attempt to hold him down. “What are you doing, Hermione?” he hissed.

“You can’t go, Harry,” she began in a soft yet urgent voice, “You don’t even know who’s out there; it’d be reckless and dangerous to charge straight into a situation like this! Don’t you remember what Professor Dumbledore told us? We can’t leave the house!” Inside, Harry knew she was right, but he didn’t want to stay inside and feel helpless – he had felt that way for far too long now. He started to push himself up again but Hermione held on tighter and said, “Please don’t…” While Hermione wasn’t weak by any means, Harry could easily break through her grip on his back and stand; it was out of respect for her that he stopped trying to escape and nodded in defeat.

“Trust me,” she said as she lightened her grip of his back. Harry nodded again before he noticed that the shouting and flashes had seemingly come to an end.

“I think it’s-” he began but was cut off by the arrival of Dumbledore and Tonks in the small corridor. “Professor! Where are they?” asked Harry in an anxious tone.

“Alastor, Kingsley, and Remus are taking care of the situation at hand. All three Death Eaters - as I’m sure you’ve figured them out to be – have been stunned and detained; they are currently awaiting transportation to a location far from here,” Dumbledore said. He paused while his eyes swept the hallway, and then added as an afterthought, “Harry, I would advise you move; I believe you might be crushing Miss Granger.” He peered down at Hermione in apparent concern as he said this. Harry jumped up with a start and helped Hermione to a standing position before he faced Dumbledore.

“But why are they here? I thought you were the Secret Keeper for The Burrow; surely you didn’t tell them where it is!” Harry exclaimed in confusion and anger. He was both scared and upset at the fact that Death Eaters had come close enough to harm Hermione in any way; he was angry with them for even frightening her at all.

“I am the Secret Keeper, yes,” the old wizard began, “but that does not mean that all prior knowledge of The Burrow’s location has been eradicated. I suppose Tom and his followers deducted that The Burrow is indeed the most likely location the two of you would be situated at the same time.” An uncomfortable but thankfully brief silence followed Dumbledore’s explanation; it was Hermione who broke it with a question.

“What spell were they casting, Professor? The bedroom was shaking and the noise was almost unbearable – like an explosion of sorts,” Hermione said with a furrowed brow as Harry nodded in agreement.

“Just the bedroom was shaking?” Tonks interjected before Dumbledore could reply.

“Well, that’s where we originally felt it,” Hermione explained going slightly red, “but once we were out in the corridor we felt the whole house rumble again with another loud noise and a bright red light.” Harry hoped with all he had that he would not be forced to explain why he was in Hermione’s bedroom or what exactly they were doing before they were interrupted. Just the memory of the events that took place only a few minutes prior to the arrival of the Death Eaters served to bother him and make him feel as though the temperature in the crowded hallway had increased.

“Why were you two in the-”

“The spell,” Dumbledore interrupted Tonks in a loud voice, “is from an ancient and imprecise area of the Dark Arts. I have seen it used on only one other occasion; unfortunately we were not as successful as were tonight. The spell is designed to locate a person if the Fidelius Charm is in place. It emits immense amounts of magical energy in an attempt to literally draw a person out of hiding. In this case, the Death Eaters were counting on the two of you to investigate the strange effects of the spell, and once you left the confines of The Burrow, you would be susceptible to Voldemort.” The small group took a moment to reflect upon what had just been said; Harry was thanking Hermione repeatedly in his mind for saving him yet again. He decided that this was something that she needed to hear straight from his own mouth, and he turned to face her.

“You were right again, Hermione; thanks,” Harry said softly as he looked straight into her eyes.

She smiled and without breaking their eye contact, said, “You’re welcome.” Harry felt as though he was being drawn to Hermione at that moment, so he looked away and focused on an all-too-interested looking Dumbledore and Tonks.

“I’m afraid you won’t be able to see or speak to the others tonight; they have Order business that needs to be attended to,” Dumbledore stated while peering from Harry to Hermione. “I am quite confident, however, that no other unexpected events will take place tonight; you are safe as long as you do not leave the house. Now, Nymphadora and I must be off; good night, Harry; sleep well, Hermione.” He gave one last small smile before he inclined his head at Tonks and swept down the stairs. Tonks, meanwhile, was looking from Harry to Hermione with narrowed eyes as though she was attempting to solve a puzzle, and it made Harry feel very uneasy. She opened her mouth to speak but Hermione cut her off quickly.

“Thanks for coming here, Tonks; it was good seeing you again!” she exclaimed in a high-pitched, nervous voice that reminded Harry of an eleven year old Hermione. She stepped toward Tonks and embraced her in a tight hug that clearly caught the woman off-guard.

“Er – yes; no problem at all, guys,” Tonks said when Hermione let go. “Guess I should help old Mad-Eye and Remus, then.” She gave the two students one last strange look before she turned and left the corridor in Dumbledore’s wake.

“Well,” Harry stated while staring at Hermione with a rather blank expression upon his face.

“Yes, that was…strange, to say the least,” she replied in a quiet tone as though she wasn’t quite sure Dumbledore and Tonks had left the house.

“At least three more Death Eaters were caught – that’s good news, right?” he asked, trying to lighten the mood.

“Of course, and besides, it’s not like anyone was injured this time around…” Hermione trailed off apparently thinking hard about something.

“Yeah. Not this time,” Harry said tensely as he vividly recalled his last encounter with a group of Death Eaters that resulted in various close calls and the death of Sirius. His jaw was clenched and his fists were balled as the images flew through his mind at breakneck speed; Harry was reminded of his behaviour at the beginning of the summer holidays when he would trash his small bedroom at the Dursleys’ house.

“Er – Harry – are you all right?” asked Hermione in a cautious voice; she stepped closer to Harry but he quickly backed away into the wall behind him.

“I’m fine, Hermione,” he replied firmly, not wanting her to see him at his worst. “Just – just go to bed now.” He turned on his heel and stalked up the stairs to Ron’s room, leaving Hermione with a confused look upon her face. When Harry reached the bedroom, he closed the door and immediately crossed to his bed where he proceeded to beat the pillow and mattress without mercy, all the while cursing Bellatrix Lestrange under his breath. He caught sight of an empty glass sitting idly on his nightstand, picked it up, and hurled it across the room at the opposite wall without a second thought. Breathing heavily, he watched and heard the glass shatter into tiny shards and scatter across the floor. Harry moved to return to his bed but a sudden movement from the doorway startled him; he spun around and saw Hermione leaning against the frame of the door with her arms folded across her chest and her narrowed eyes watching him closely. He didn’t know how to react or what to say, so he stood there dumbly watching her stare at him in total silence.

“You’ve done that before,” she said in a low voice.

“Yes,” was all he said as he swallowed the newly formed lump in his throat.

“Why?” she asked, as if the answer was so simple.

“You weren’t supposed to see that; there’s a reason I told you to go to bed,” he dodged her question. You weren’t supposed to see me lose control like that.

“And you honestly expected me to go to bed without finding out what was wrong with you? I thought you would have realized by now that I care about you, Harry, and that I’m not just going to abandon you when you’re obviously upset about something!” she said, her voice rising as she spoke.

“Believe me, Hermione, I know, but it’s not something that I wanted you to see!” he exclaimed in exasperation as he took a step closer to the door and her body.

“It’s not something that you should do,” Hermione said so quietly that he almost didn’t hear her or the pleading tone her voice had taken.

“What should I do then? You tell me, Hermione; you always know all the answers – tell me what I should do,” Harry practically begged her as he walked right up to her and leaned against the opposite doorframe with his arms crossed, mimicking her position.

She pushed herself up from the frame to stand perfectly straight and stared into Harry’s eyes when she said, “You know what, Harry? This time, I don’t know what you should do; I don’t even know what I should do. To be perfectly honest, I feel as though I don’t know anything anymore. This whole war or whatever it is has done nothing but confuse and scare me; unlike you, I’m not used to having Death Eaters or Voldemort after me! I’m a fifteen year old Muggleborn witch, and sometimes it seems as though so many people rely on me for answers or solutions to problems I don’t understand! I don’t know how you do it; I can’t comprehend how you deal with it all,” she finished weakly.

Harry wondered how long she had been keeping those volatile feelings inside under her collected exterior, and he wasn’t very surprised to see tears forming in her eyes as she continued to stare into his own. He uncrossed his arms and pulled her into a tight embrace before whispering, “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to put you on the spot like that.”

“It’s all right; it needed to be said,” she replied in a scratchy voice, but she wasn’t crying. “At least you know now.”

“You can’t be afraid, though, Hermione; you can be prepared and ready, but not scared,” he continued in the same fierce whisper. Harry wasn’t sure where these words were coming from; he just said whatever came to mind. She didn’t reply in words but he felt her nod her head against his chest in agreement. “We need to sleep now,” he said and shuffled them across the room to his bed. Harry gently let go of Hermione and watched her crawl under the duvet and scoot away from the edge of the bed and towards the wall. He climbed in next to her and was surprised at how normal it felt to be next to her in a bed of all places.

“’Night,” she said as she moved to lay her head near his shoulder.

“’Night, Hermione,” he replied and closed his eyes to the world and his troubles.

13. memories

a/n: Thanks for the reviews, as always. The next chapter will be the final one.

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chapter 13: memories

The next morning Harry awoke to an empty bed and a cold, grey light piercing the small bedroom. Eerie shadows danced across the walls; a lone figure stood against the windowsill, arms folded and head tilted to the side.

“Hermione,” Harry croaked in a hoarse morning-like voice. She jumped and peered at him from her spot by the window before returning her gaze to the horizon. He crawled out of bed and stretched his back as he staggered to her side; his eyes took in her tired appearance as he stole a glance before turning his attention to the window and what lay outside. There was no sun in sight, only clouds, but there was something mystifying and beautiful about the dark morning all the same. “Did you sleep all right?” he asked, already knowing the answer; he had felt her shift many times throughout the night and even leave the bed altogether once or twice.

“No; I had trouble falling asleep…and staying asleep,” she replied in a quiet voice without taking her eyes off of the landscape. Harry took a closer look at her and noticed the bluish-purple half-circles under her eyes and the way she leaned against the window, almost as though it was supporting her exhausted frame. He moved to stand behind her and gently pulled her against him, assuring her with a quick tightening of his arms that he would keep her standing. She let go of the windowsill and rubbed her eyes with the heels of her hands, letting out a long yawn that ended with a sigh as she did so.

“Nightmares?” he inquired, wondering what else would keep a person awake and fretful for most of the night; he had experienced more than enough nightmares in his time to know how a sleepless night felt and the effects on the body when morning came around.

Hermione lowered her hands from her eyes and nodded as she answered, “In a sense, yes, I had nightmares.” It was then apparent to Harry that she did not want to speak about the night, at least not now, and he accepted her answer with a nod of his head and a sigh of his own. They remained that way for awhile, simply standing together and watching the non-existent sunrise. Hermione suggested they separate and clean up for the day before meeting for a much-needed breakfast in the kitchen; Harry agreed to the idea and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before she left his embrace and the bedroom in a few short strides. He stood staring at the door for a moment and then turned towards his trunk to find some clothes to wear after a brief shower; he found what he was looking for, took one last lingering look out of the window, and then went straight to the bathroom.

He emerged feeling refreshed and ready for both breakfast and the entire day, and the scrumptious smell of eggs floated in the air of the corridor and stairway. Harry arrived in the kitchen and immediately noticed a rather flustered Hermione attempting to prepare breakfast by the stove. Her hair was still wet and messily piled on top of her head, there were obvious egg stains on her shorts where she had apparently wiped her hands, and the sleeves of her hoodie were rolled up to her elbows as she tried in vain to flip an egg that was nearly burning in a frying pan.

“Er – Hermione?” Harry questioned with a hint of a smirk, “D’you need some help there?”

“I can’t-” she was interrupted by a violent hissing noise from the rebellious egg in the pan, “I can’t cook breakfast! I can manage everything else just fine, but breakfast has always been impossible for me,” she finished quickly while removing the pan from the stove entirely. Hermione took one look at the deformed egg before tossing it right into the rubbish bin with a noise of disgust.

“I can make breakfast if you’d like,” Harry offered as he peered at the discarded egg in interest.

Hermione scoffed before answering, “I know you can, but I just wanted to do something nice for you; it seemed like – er – something a girlfriend would do.”

“Honestly, Hermione, I wouldn’t know,” Harry said earnestly, “But I am very hungry, and - no offence meant - that egg in the bin doesn’t really look too appetizing…”

She gave him a death glare before rolling her eyes and saying, “All right then, you can make breakfast, but I’m going to help.” Harry grinned at her and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, ready to cook up a satisfying and normal-looking meal.

It took half an hour in total to make breakfast, including the impromptu snogging session that Harry wasn’t sure who started. They sat at the kitchen table eating their bacon, eggs, and toast when Harry was reminded of something important.

“Hermione, I just remembered what Professor Lupin said at training – about Occlumency - and maybe we should start with that today. I could try to teach you the basics, although I don’t know how successful that’ll be.” Harry vividly recalled his first lesson in Occlumency with Snape and felt that perhaps that method of teaching was not the best way to go about it all, however Snape’s limited explanation was the best thing he had. He knew he was no expert at Legilimency by any means, but maybe the fact that Hermione had no experience with Occlumency whatsoever would allow him to break into her mind.

“Yes, Occlumency sounds like a good idea, but doesn’t it require magic? Are we even allowed to use our wands in here?” Hermione asked with a definite note of anxiety in her voice - the same tone she used whenever she was worried about breaking rules or causing trouble at Hogwarts. Harry hadn’t thought of this prior to Hermione’s query, but surely they’d be allowed to use magic to learn something as important as this; Lupin wouldn’t have suggested it otherwise.

“Well, if we weren’t allowed to do magic here, why would Lupin have instructed us to practice Occlumency?” asked Harry in a logical voice that made him sound much more like Hermione than himself. Hermione seemed to consider this for a moment before she nodded her consent and returned to the food in front of her; satisfied, Harry followed suit and the two of them finished their meal in silence. They quickly cleaned up the mess Hermione had created prior to Harry’s arrival and soon found themselves standing in the middle of the living room.

“I guess I’ll just explain what Snape told me during my first lesson; I’m pretty sure you’ll understand it more than I do, you’re much more clever,” Harry said with a small smile.

Hermione blushed and answered, “Thank you, Harry, but from what I’ve heard it can be extremely difficult.”

“I couldn’t keep Snape out of my head during the first lesson, but then again he didn’t really help much,” Harry said in a spiteful tone. “Well, here goes nothing. A wizard – or witch – who’s skilled in Legilimency has the ability to read minds, more or less,” Harry paused as he remembered how Snape had repeatedly reminded him that Legilimency was much more complex than mind reading, but he didn’t care – it had always sounded like that to him. He shook his head and continued, “Those who know or have mastered Occlumency have the ability to close their minds to outside forces; they shut down their feelings and emotions so no one using Legilimency is able to retrieve any of them.”

“And how does one close their mind to prevent an attack?” Hermione questioned with a look of rapt attention upon her face.

“Er – you need to clear your mind of emotion,” said Harry, internally cringing as he realized he sounded very much like Professor Snape.

“Is there anything else I should know before we give it a go?”

“Eye contact – it’s very important for me as the one who’s attempting Legilimency.” Harry drew his wand from the pocket of his jeans and motioned for her to do the same. “You can use your wand to try and defend yourself against this…that’s all, I think.” He took a step back from Hermione and leveled his wand at her; it was eerie, Harry thought, to attempt to enter someone else’s mind let alone Hermione’s. “Are you ready?” he asked, hoping he wouldn’t make a complete fool of himself.

“Yes, well, I hope so,” she said and drew in a deep breath.

“Okay then…Legilimens!” He briefly saw a montage of blurred images and felt slightly disoriented before his vision returned to normal.

“Did I do it?” asked Hermione excitedly.

“I don’t know; I just might not be able to use Legilimency properly,” Harry said with a shrug.

“Try again then.”

It took several more attempts, each one requiring more concentration than the last, but Harry finally managed to penetrate Hermione’s weak mental block. The images were rapidly streaming in front of his eyes as if they were his own memories. A little girl with bushy brown hair sat at a table as she learned to write her own name…An excited and confused ten year old stood in a hallway while reading a letter that bore the Hogwarts crest…Thirteen year old Hermione wearing a red and gold Gryffindor scarf as she yelled and cheered during a Quidditch match…

Harry felt a jolt of pain on his left forearm and suddenly lost the images he was previously viewing with ease. He saw Hermione standing closer than she had been before, breathing hard with her wand pointed right at him.

“Did you see all of that?” she asked in between breaths; she lowered her wand and stared intently at the angry red welt that was forming on his arm.

“I think so,” he began, “Pieces of it at least.” She nodded and performed a quick healing charm on his arm before stepping back and facing him with her wand at the ready once again. “You want to give it another go?” Harry questioned with a raised eyebrow. He had half-expected her to be angry with him for seeing her memories as he had felt with Snape, but she didn’t appear upset at all; in fact, Hermione looked more determined than he had ever seen her.

“Of course; you didn’t think I would give up after one try, did you?” she challenged and closed her eyes in preparation.

“Er – no,” he said as he too leveled his wand, “Legilimens!” Hermione’s eyes sprang open as he uttered the incantation; there was a moment of blankness in his mind as he repeatedly tried to access her thoughts, and his efforts were rewarded as the image of a brewing cauldron in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom swam into focus. Twelve year olds Hermione, Ron, and himself sat on the floor watching the strange contents of the Polyjuice Potion…Dementors closing in upon himself, Hermione, and Sirius as they mouthed “Expecto Patronum” to no avail…A scarlet-faced Ron shouting at the top of his lungs from across the Gryffindor Common Room, still wearing his maroon dress robes…the image of himself lying face-down on the grass after emerging from the third task of the Triwizard Tournament…Dolohov making an abrupt slashing movement with his wand and emitting a purple flame that flew across the office in the Department of Mysteries…

After this image Harry left her mind without any force required on her part; he contemplated why he was seeing these negative memories after having just seen nicer, happier ones. “Are you purposely projecting these images?” he asked, wondering if perhaps this was some mechanism of defense against Legilimency that he hadn’t heard of prior to this.

Hermione looked taken aback as she answered, “No; I’m not the one in control here. The memories just come without me thinking; you have to decide which particular image you want to see.”

Harry breathed in deeply and shut his eyes for a moment as he attempted to regain his composure before trying again. “I’m going to try to access only good memories this time, Hermione,” he said opening his eyes; he raised his wand while maintaining eye contact and cried, “Legilimens!”

A group of six students stood closely together in a large hall, facing twice their number in Death Eaters…No, Harry thought, no bad memories, nothing like that…Himself, Hermione, and Sirius flying away on Buckbeak, grinning as they did so…A present-day Hermione sitting under the tree by the creek at The Burrow as the night sky twinkled everywhere…Splashing around in the creek with himself, Ron, and Luna as they laughed madly…

Abruptly, the memories stopped and Harry saw a grinning Hermione standing right in front of him. He checked his arms for any injuries but there were none in sight. “Did you throw me out with only your mind?” he asked in surprise.

“I didn’t use my wand; when the image of the creek popped up I just felt in control all of a sudden…it was strange, really,” Hermione replied.

“Well, whatever happened worked; you did a brilliant job,” Harry said with pride. “I think that’s enough for today though; this mind-reading business is a bit tiring.” He grinned and moved into the kitchen to get a drink.

She followed him in, saying, “I’m sure you know that Occlumency isn’t exactly a lovely stroll in the park either; I can only imagine how horrible this must have been with Professor Snape,” she shuddered as she finished the sentence. “I wouldn’t want him to see my memories like that.”

“Yeah, just imagine how I felt when the greasy git was probing my mind for memories; he actually saw the image of me and Cho in the Room of Requirement...” he trailed off when he saw the look on Hermione’s face. “Er – sorry,” he said sheepishly, “I don’t suppose you want to hear about that.”

“No, not really,” she replied as she filled a glass with water, “but if you want to hear some Viktor stories, I’d be happy to share them.” She grinned cheekily at his shocked expression and walked back into the living room chuckling to herself.

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Next chapter: The Weasleys return from Romania, questions are answered, and the story comes to an end.