Into a Darkened Room by Demosthenes

Rating: PG13
Genres: Angst, Drama
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 5
Published: 11/09/2004
Last Updated: 26/10/2004
Status: Completed

After the final battle with Voldemort, Hermione finally tells Harry that she's been in love
with him for years. But when circumstances suddenly separate them, and Harry's all but ignored
her and her declaration of love, what's left for Hermione? No Hogwarts, no homework and no
Harry suddenly leave her feeling quite useless and rejected.When she feels she's lost
everything, to what lengths will Hermione go to feel wanted again?




1. Together/Alone
-----------------

Aw hell, I've gone and forgetten the disclaimer again. Okay, once more... blah, blah, blah,
their not mine. Blah, blah, blah their the brilliant J.K. Rowling's. Blah blah not a dime being
made, just some fanciful entertainment whilst we wait for number 6. Ooo, number 6. Here come those
flashbacks from 'The Prisoner'. But, I digress... on to the story.

*************

Together.

Ron and Hermione felt it immediately. One moment they were fending off a quartet of Death Eaters
in the rapidly darkening forest surrounding Voldemort's stronghold - and then... then there was
sudden warmth and brightness. Their bodies went rigid as a glow encompassed them, then blasted
outward to level their four opponents.

*'Ron?'*

*'Hermione?'*

*'My God Ron, it's Harry! Can't you feel it?!'*

*'Hi guys - glad to see you could join me!'*

*'Harry?'*

*'Hang on - I've got to concentrate for this bit...'*

Whatever bond had forged the three of them - magic, friendship, love - it connected them now, as
Harry used his abilities to draw upon the two people he cared for most in the world to finally face
down Voldemort. He was nearby, of that they were certain. They couldn't see, so much as feel
him, binding and drawing on the power that made them inseparable for so many years.

Hermione and Ron's heads began to swim as a dizzying array of emotions and memories swept
through them. It was as if Harry were reliving every happy moment he had ever had with them, and
they were swept up in the torrent of his memories and emotions. They could feel his strength
gathering as the memories swelled, and, when they both felt as if they could contain no more
happiness, they sensed Harry forcibly channel every bit of it into one tremendous blast aimed at
their enemy.

Just as suddenly, they dropped to the ground as the connection was broken. Almost giddy, they
faced each other.

"Did, did he really do it Hermione?" Ron's voice was soft and tremulous.

"I don't know - I, I think so," her voice trailed off as the giddiness began to
subside.

"Harry!" She stood and began calling out. Ron tried to follow suit, but found he could
barely stand on his injured leg.

"Ron? I can't sense him anymore. Can you?"

He furrowed his brow in concentration. "No. No, I can't..."

More frantically now, "HARRY!"

"Find him Hermione! Go! I'll bind this lot and send for help. Just find him!"

She quickly turned the ring on her hand until the emerald fleck faced up. "Show me,"
she commanded with a flourish of her wand, then touched it to the stone and concentrated.

*Flashes... he ran through the forest... a broken trail... fog... then the brightness of the
moon... a clearing... A CLEARING!*

CRACK!

She apparated into the clearing, quickly surveying the scene before her. Harry was standing
transfixed *(ohthankGodhesalive)* roughly 20 paces from the smoldering remains of what she
could only assume was the former Lord Voldemort. She approached slowly, coming upon the defeated
Dark Lord, confirming, in fact, that it was him. Stunned, she slowly began backing away towards
Harry.

"Harry... you've, you've done it! You've actually done it!" Relief swept
through her and she turned to Harry. "You've done it! You've done it!" She
shouted, ecstatic, and threw her arms around Harry. In the distance she caught the glimmer of
Ron's flare - they'd only been, at the most, a quarter mile away.

She was crushing him, happier than she could ever remember, before she realized something was
terribly wrong.

"Harry?" She stepped back, a tentative smile still on her face, and gripped his
shoulders as she stared at him.

"Harry!"

His face held no emotion. He stared unblinking - his body still, his gaze locked on the remains
of Voldemort.

"Harry, it's over. We've - we've won."

Nothing.

"Oh no... oh no, no, no. HARRY!" She shook him, tears streaming from her eyes.
"You can't do this Harry! It's OVER! You DEFEATED HIM! WE NEVER HAVE TO BE AFRAID
AGAIN.... HARRY PLEASE!"

She continued to shake him frantically, as panic consumed her.

"Harry! Harry please... don't do this! We've made it through! I can't lose you
now, please!" She was near hysterics, trying to think of something, anything...

These last few years she had waited, convinced there would be time, after they had defeated
Voldemort. A time and a place where she could finally tell him how much she loved him. She had come
close so many times, but held back, her logic always winning out. She couldn't do that to him.
Even if he loved her back, she would be a distraction during this perilous time of uncertainty. She
could get him killed. And the worst case, if he didn't love her, then she would have caused
irreparable damage to their friendship, possibly separating them, and that meant she couldn't
stand with him when the time came for the final fight. If nothing else, she couldn't bear not
to be with him in his hour of greatest need. She kept a tight rein on her emotions the past few
years, letting it slip in moments of weakness - a stray touch whenever she could, a soft look when
he wouldn't notice. It was all she ever allowed herself, until the time was right, and
now...

"This can't have been for nothing... please!"

Too many years of quelling her emotions. Too many years of channeling all that love into
friendship - fighting beside him, cheering him on, searching every last tome ever written to
conjure spells and charms that would keep him safe. Whatever it would take to get him here, to this
point in time, where they'd finally, finally be safe.

She clutched him tightly, then let out an anguished sob.

"NO!"

She felt her hope slipping away as she held him, while the last rational part of her resolve
cried out to her. She did her best to calm herself and let her analytical side take over. It had
rarely failed her - she hoped it still held the ability to pull her through.

She released Harry, then placed both hands determinedly on either side of his face.

"Listen to me Harry! Please! You *cannot* do this! You *cannot* leave me like
this! There's so much I've left to tell you, so many things we're still meant to
do."

No response.

"Please," she pleaded, her sobs threatening to engulf her again. "Harry, I've
meant to tell you. So many times I wanted to tell you. I'm in love with you Harry! I have been
for ages - so YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME NOW!!!" She clutched his robes, shaking him.
"DON'T YOU DARE LEAVE ME!"

His gaze remained fixed.

Losing all hope, Hermione gently placed her hands on his face one last time.

"Please Harry," she whispered. "I love you," she kissed him. "I love
you," she kissed him again. "Please..." She held his face and kissed him again as
her expression set into a painful grimace. "I love you Harry...," and then she clutched
him and dissolved into tears.

She failed to notice the tears that were pouring freely from Harry's unblinking stare. She
continued to hold him and cry, not realizing that the shuddering of her body was now joined by his.
Almost an entire minute had passed before she recognized that the loud and anguished sobs she heard
weren't hers, but his.

Softly, with unimaginable hope, she spoke his name.

"...Harry?"

He cried out with a tortured scream that nearly made her jump out of her skin. He pushed her out
of the way as he stalked towards Voldemort's remains, releasing screams of anguish and rage
that shattered her soul. He aimed his wand and continued screaming, each time shooting forth
violent currents of energy that laid the ground to waste.

Hermione sat, stunned. Her hands clutched over her mouth as she watched him vent all his years
of anger, his rage, his pain for the loss of his parents, Sirius, Cedric and everyone else who had
ever suffered at the hands or minions of Voldemort. He continued to rage. She was certain at one
point he had even dropped his wand and the powerful waves of destructive magic were emanating
directly from him. It took her a moment to realize the pain she was feeling was caused by her heart
breaking for him over and over again.

Finally he began to subside, his energy spent, as he fell to his knees and cried as she had
never seen him before. Gone was the terrifying wizard of moments ago, and, as she approached him
and cradled him in her arms, she realized who this was. Sobbing as she gently held him wasn't
the Boy Who Lived or the Boy Who Finally Defeated You-Know-Who, but the Boy Who Lived in the
Cupboard Under the Stairs.

She held onto him, fiercely protective, yet crying freely with him. They sat beside the
smoldering crater of earth, for how long she couldn't say, until they heard the approach of
others towards the clearing. She looked around, trying to gauge how much time they had until they
were discovered. Gently lifting Harry up, she whispered an incantation and soft blue light bathed
his face.

"I'll not let them see you like this Harry. Ever."

He looked at her, his expression somewhat vacant, but she could tell he was still with her. His
face suddenly felt cool as all traces of his outburst vanished.

Hermione glanced once more over her shoulder, readying herself to let him go and share him with
the world once more. The familiar ache of years seized her chest once more as she hugged him
tightly, then released him and called out to their approaching allies.

"We're over here!"

***

Everything after that moment became a rapid blur.

There were shouts of joy and surprise. Years of living under the terrible threat of Voldemort
were finally over and everyone rushed to congratulate the hero of the hour. However, the
celebration was short lived as the Trio and many others were rushed to St. Mungo's to be
thoroughly checked over.

Apparently they were all in worse shape than anyone originally thought. They had spent the last
few hours impelled completely on adrenaline, which helped to mask the true fatigue and evidence of
damage they'd sustained.

Quite against their will they were given sleeping draughts that would compel them to rest and
heal. Hermione dimly recalled Ron joking with a frantic Luna, who sat beside his bed with a
bandaged arm as she gently stroked his forehead. A small flare of jealousy rose up in her, caused
by the momentary envy of what they had and what she feared she never would. Before she finally lost
consciousness she searched the room for Harry's bed, but realized that one of the healers had
already drawn privacy curtains around him.

She willed herself to give into the draught, safe in the knowledge that all of her friends had
survived, that those she cared most about were nearby.

*'It's over... it's finally over...,'* she thought as she closed her
eyes.

A momentary frown came over Hermione's face as she drifted off to sleep.

*'Yes dear, it's finally over...'*

***

When she awoke, the first thing that hit her was an unassailable thirst. She tried to sit up,
then stopped abruptly as a fierce pounding in her head assaulted her. She tried to call out for
someone, but the best she could manage was a weak croak, followed by a series of dry coughs.
Immediately a healer appeared at her bedside, and helped her roll onto her side as she offered her
a sip through a straw. Hermione drank tentatively, then tried her best to thank the nurse while she
struggled into a sitting position.

"Hold on dear, I'll go fetch the senior Healer."

She watched the nurse stroll from the room before she noticed her surroundings. The beds that
her friends had all occupied were empty now, neatly dressed and devoid of life. She turned her head
to look where Harry's bed had been, but that was vacant too. On her bedside table were a myriad
number of cards and flowers from a variety of well wishers, but they did nothing to quell her
growing anxiety.

The nurse strolled back in with the senior Healer, an older wizard with a well lined and caring
face. "Well Miss Granger, it's good to see you're back among the living. How are you
feeling?"

She couldn't tell if the tightness in her chest was an injury, or part of her
anxiousness.

"How..." She coughed again, but managed to keep it from turning into a hacking fit.
"How long have I been...?"

"Oh, only about a week or so dear." He noticed the shocked expression on her face.
"Not to worry, you simply needed undisturbed rest. It seems the, um, well..., the
*monumental* battle you took part in exacerbated some previous injuries you
sustained."

That explained why her chest ached. It seemed like Dolohov's unsuccessful hex was destined
to follow her about like a footballer's trick knee the rest of her life.

"But not to worry. After thoroughly checking you over, we decided it best that we induce
coma, to allow you to heal properly. It seems you, along with your friends, seem to have a habit of
getting into nasty scrapes. Let's hope this is the last."

"My friends... are they...?"

"Oh, they're all fine. Most of them left three days ago. Some," he glanced over at
Harry's bed, "against my best advice. But they're all fine now, I assure
you."

"When may I leave?"

"We've already contacted your parents. They'll be by shortly to collect you. The
draught we gave you would only allow you to wake once you were fully healed, so, we'll give you
another quick once over, but after that, you're free to leave. However, I think it best you
take it easy for awhile yet. The last thing you'd want to do is aggravate your
injuries."

"Thank you."

The nurse did a cursory exam of Hermione while she tried to absorb the fact she'd been
asleep for the better part of June.

*'I wonder where Harry and Ron are?'*

*'No, you wonder why they aren't here.'*

That voice she'd heard before falling asleep rose up in her again. She frowned, wondering
where it had come from. When the nurse was done with her examination, Hermione cleaned herself up
in the lavatory, got dressed, then began to collect her cards and flowers. As she sat on the bed
waiting for her parents, she began reading through the assortment.

Some were sweet, like the one from a group of Gryffindor first years she had managed to direct
out of harm's way just before the battle had begun in earnest. Others were short and cursory
words of thanks from Ministry officials, including various job offers. She remembered she was due
to start her first year of Spellcrafting Academy in the fall, regardless of how enticing the offers
were.

Oddly there was nothing from Ron or Harry. She imagined Ron must be basking in the limelight of
celebrity - no doubt enjoying every minute of hero worship. And Harry? Well, Ron probably dragged
him along too... but wherever they were, the weren't here.

And so she sat on her bed, waiting for her parents to arrive.

Alone.

**************************

A/N - Well, after my first foray into fanfic, I decided to give this a whirl. It's one
I've been working on for awhile, and, hopefully, posting the first few chaps that are actually
done will compel me to finish the ding dang thing. And for those of you who caught it, that nifty
ring that Hermione uses to find Harry has a story all it's own. It'll be thoroughly
explained later on, promise.

Hope you like it.



2. Perfunctory
--------------

A/N: Sorry this one's so short - it's the set up for the extremely long winded chapter
that follows.

**************************

**Perfunctory**

Hermione Granger opened the curtains of her bedroom, letting the early morning light flood in.
She yawned and stretched, then slowly began going over the myriad number of things she had to get
done.

It was early August, and though the wizarding community still seemed to be in constant
celebration of Voldemort's final defeat, at least the initial fervor had begun to subside. For
the first couple of weeks she had been assailed by owls with words of thanks and congratulations
from all members of wizards. Of course, there had also been the various requests for interviews and
photos from a variety of publications, but she had turned them all down, content to just be plain
old Hermione for awhile. There'd be plenty of time for fame when she began Academy in the fall.
However, the same couldn't be said of Harry and Ron.

She sighed as she thought of her friends. Hermione had mostly stayed at home these last two
months, enjoying her last bits of life with her family before truly striking out on her own.
Thankfully, after her initial disconsolation at St. Mungo's that day, she arrived home to find
Pigwigeon circling wildly above her parent's house. She smiled as Pig dropped a thick bundle
into her hands and nipped at her playfully. She rushed to her room to read the letter from Ron.

*Hermione,*

*Sorry we weren't there when you finally woke up. Playing up that Sleeping Beauty bit
then? Just joking. Actually, we didn't want to leave you, but when the Healers told us you were
fine, that they were just making you sleep because they figured you wouldn't do it on your own
(don't know where they ever got the idea you'd be stubborn) they rushed us out. We tried to
go back, but I think every media outlet in the wizarding world was staking out St. Mungo's! We
couldn't get within two blocks before being bombarded!*

*As for Harry, well, they had tried to get him to take a swig of that gunk they gave you, but
you want to talk about stubborn?! I think the Healer actually turned white when Harry fixed him
with that death glare of his.*

*We've been having a fabulous time - well, I have anyway. I think Harry can't get over
the fact that no one's trying to kill him for the first time in, well, EVER. We've just
finished helping with the reconstruction at Hogwarts - nice to see the drafty old school back up to
snuff. It didn't look like too much damage was done, and Hagrid's killer with trowel and
brick (he had to do it the Muggle way, even tho' we all know he'd have done it quicker with
that umbrella of his!).*

*We're back at the Burrow now, and Mom's yet to stop fussing over us. We're
constantly bombarded with owls these days, as I'm sure you'll experience now that
you're home. Be mindful of the marriage proposals tho' - Harry spent two days trying to
wipe enchanted lipstick prints off his cheeks! And I won't even begin to tell you about the,
um, large assortment of unmentionables that seem to find their way here. Funny how I never knew how
many girls, and I quote, "have always fancied redheads!"*

*Luna about had a fit over those! She actually ended up bribing Pig to filter my mail! Can you
believe it?! Not that I blame her of course, I mean, who wouldn't get jealous over "the
brilliant young Gryffindor strategist Ronald Weasley"? (Honestly, that's what the Prophet
called me! Guess all those year's of wizard chess finally paid off.)*

*Actually, you should read all the fabulous things they had to say about you too. Mum's
been collecting all our clippings - I'm sending along a bundle for you. Definitely something we
can all show our grandkids someday!*

*Which reminds me - now that we've saved the wizarding world as we know it, Bill and Fleur
have finally decided to tie the knot. You'll find their wedding invitation along with the press
clippings.*

*I'm off to meet with my Cannon's coach - we begin training at the end of summer. I
promise I'll write some more in a few days. Glad you're well, and let me know how your
summer goes... wow, I was just going to write 'before school starts again'. Guess I
can't get over that we're done with school - well, at least me and Harry are - why you
would want two more years of schooling is beyond me - of course, it is YOU I'm talking about,
so it's hardly a stretch of the imagination.*

*Yours Truly,* *The Bloody Brilliant Ronald Weasley*

*P.S. Harry sends his love.*

Hermione unwrapped the large parcel that contained clippings from the Daily Prophet over the
last two weeks. She couldn't help but wrinkle her nose at some of photos on file they had used
in their articles. One was from their fourth year, during the TriWizard Tournament, and, from the
looks of it, before she had managed to shrink her teeth.

Ron hadn't been joking about the words of praise. Everything from the Prophet to the
Quibbler had gushing words of gratitude and flattery about each of them. Even Rita Skeeter had
managed to write something decent, "Those involved agree that success came from teamwork
amongst the students of all houses, led by the nearly perfect Head Girl, Hermione Granger."
She couldn't help but laugh at the backhanded compliment. Apparently 'nearly perfect'
was the civil upgrade from 'Little Miss Perfect'.

While she continued to skim through the various clippings, Hedwig flew through her window. She
happily took the letter, glad to see that Hedwig had mended nicely, no trace of the broken wing she
had suffered several weeks prior.

*Hermione,*

*I'm glad you're well. Ron tells me you finally woke up and are back home now. I'm
sure he's told you about all our adventures since we've left St. Mungo's. I'm quite
excited actually, I'm going with the Weasleys on holiday to various points of Eastern Europe
before heading back for the wedding. I'll write you more when I get a chance.*

*Sincerely,* *Harry*

She sat at the edge of her bed, absentmindedly stroking Crookshanks as she looked at the two
letters again. Correction - as she looked at the letter and *note* again. Her feelings were,
at best, mixed. She was glad to hear from the both of them, of that there was no question. And yet,
she couldn't help but feel that there should have been something more. Ron was as convivial as
ever, but Harry's letter seemed almost... what was it she was searching for? Whatever it was,
this was, by far, the shortest and least personal letter he had ever written, and that included
anything prior to third year.

She glanced at it again - a mere glance being more than capable of consuming the entirety of the
text. She noted she hadn't even rated a "yours truly" from him. Just a simple
statement of facts, hardly any narrative, barely anything personable. It simple struck her
as...

"Perfunctory."

She sighed - she knew she had been reading too much into it. It was simply foreign to her not to
be with her friends, celebrating the victory that should have rivaled D-Day. Instead, circumstances
relegated her to sitting in her bedroom, sifting through her things as she unpacked her school
trunk and sorted laundry.

She couldn't help but wonder why Harry's letter, or lack thereof, was bothering her so
much. She began picking it apart logically.

*'He's still adjusting to this new world without school & Voldemort.'*

*'He's still in a bit of shock.'*

*'The press won't let him alone.'*

*'All his admirers are driving him batty.'*

*'He'll write me more once things have settled down.'*

*'He's avoiding me because I told him I love him.'*

"Oh no!"

Her head sank into her hands as she remembered that little gem of a detail. She knew there was
something she had forgotten, the rest of that evening had been nothing but a blur, and now she
could recall it with stunning clarity. She had poured her heart out to him, in a last desperate
attempt to reach him. It had worked, but now, she was certain it was at the expense of their
friendship. His short, and she now thought, curt, letter had been evidence of that. She had made
him uncomfortable. He didn't know how to tell her he didn't feel the same. All the plans
the three of them had, of sharing a flat somewhere near Diagon Alley, of staying together in some
semblance in their post-Hogwarts years, slowly seemed to be crumbling in front of her. She had
ruined the "Post-Hogwarts Trio" with declarations of undying love.

"Bloody brilliant Granger!"

She rose from the bed, took a half hearted kick at the pile of dirty school robes on the floor,
and did her best to keep the tears from running down her face. Crookshanks gave her a sympathetic
stare, and she couldn't help but smile back at him.

"Oh Crookshanks, I am ever the silly girl, aren't I?" She laughed with derision as
a single tear dropped from her eye. "Whatever was I thinking?" Crookshanks merely stared
at her, then licked a paw and groomed his left ear.

She had spent the rest of that afternoon trying to push all thoughts of Harry from her mind. At
first she tried not to think about him at all, but that inevitably led to deeper ruminations. Maybe
she was overanalyzing the whole situation, which was her habit. But, as the weeks wore on, and she
continued to get thick letters from Ron packed with details of their travels and his relationship
with Luna, all she got from Harry were two more notes - one describing the architecture of Prague,
and another mentioning the remnants of the Berlin Wall. To her, this was all the evidence she
needed. Neither he or Ron had mentioned the flat in London, or any plans to live together, and she
had been too uncertain to broach the subject herself. She'd never admit as much, but her
confidence waned terribly at the time - leaving her feeling unwelcome amongst her supposed two best
friends. But the truth of the matter was that Harry didn't feel remotely for her what she had
felt for him. He hadn't even had the courtesy to tell her as much, but simply tried to maintain
the status quo as lamely as possible.

When this finally became evident to her, she decided she would strive to repair what was left of
their friendship. She swore she'd never mention her feelings again, and, as she had so many
years of experience in this endeavor, she took all her love for Harry that was of any
'non-friendly' nature, and tightly boxed it up inside herself, never to again see the light
of day.

And now as early August arrived, and she prepared to meet the Weasleys and Harry in Paris for
the wedding, she made the solemn vow to herself to reign in her emotions and do her best to start
from scratch - strangers on a train, as it were. They may not exactly be "The Trio"
anymore, but they were still friends, of that she was (mostly) certain.

It was with a positive attitude and an overly bright smile that she walked into the regal
wizarding resort of *La Sérénité Maintenant,* hidden in a nook of Paris not too far from the
Louvre, and greeted her friends, both close and estranged.

Her positive bravado lasted approximately 43 minutes after arriving, then burst into flames that
rivaled one of Fawkes' burning days.

**************************



3. Superfluous
--------------

**************************

**Superfluous**

Hermione walked from the portkey hub of Paris' version of Diagon Alley. Although she had
visited Paris before with her parents, this was her first time within the wizarding community. She
had to remind herself not to gawk like a common tourist as she marveled at the shops lining the
courtyard she'd emerged in. It came as a great asset that she spoke French like a native, her
mother having taken great care in teaching her. As much as she had wanted to comb the alluring
shops that lined her path, she made the decision to check into the resort first. Although her
portkey lag was minimal, she was both eager and anxious to see everyone.

This, however, did not prevent her from taking a leisurely stroll to her destination. Although
she had arrived in Paris at 11:30 that morning, it wasn't until noon that she actually crossed
the threshold of *La Sérénité Maintenant,* and was given the specific charm & password
that keyed the multi-room suite she'd be sharing with Ron, Harry, Ginny and, eventually Luna,
who was scheduled to arrive the following day. She couldn't help but smile when the desk clerk
told her the password chosen to open their suite was "Canary Creams".

She took the lift to the 12th floor and found their suite. An ornate set of carved dark wooden
double doors with an enormous pair of gold handles that erred on the side of stylish rather than
garish, stood at the entrance of the suite. She withdrew her wand from her smart looking handbag,
waved it while saying *"Alohamora Canary Creams"*, and drew in a sharp breath at the
room that stood before her.

The large L-shaped living area had a bank of windows that overlooked most of the better known
landmarks of Paris. She could only imagine how beautiful it must look at night, with the city
lights illuminating the landscape. Dividing the stretch of windows was a large fireplace,
surrounded by three setŽes and tables, which, in Hermione's opinion, may be fashionable, but
nowhere near as comfortable as the squashy armchairs to which she'd grown accustomed. Past the
bend in the larger room were five pairs of french doors on either side, leading to their personal
rooms, and while one side contained a fully stocked bar, the other side held an ornate and utterly
fascinating mirror that stood next to a bank of sinks and two opulent bathrooms.

"Ron? Is that you?" Ginny emerged from one of the rooms, fastening an earring into the
third piercing on her left ear. Hermione couldn't help but grin at the sight of her. She
didn't realize how much she'd missed seeing her on an almost daily basis for 6 years.
Although they had managed to exchange many letters over the last two months, it still wasn't
the same as being able to look and talk and laugh with someone in the flesh.

"HERMIONE!" Ginny had squealed at the sight of her and ran across the room, crushing
her into a hug that filled Hermione with genuine happiness. Her trepidation at this entire journey
began to fade, as she felt the comforting reassurance of friendship envelope her. For a moment she
thought herself daft for ever having doubted her friendship with any of them. But then, seeing
Ginny was probably going to be the easiest. There had never been any question where she stood with
her.

"Oh look at you! You look fab and... where's your luggage?"

"Oh, it's all in here." Hermione showed her the handbag, then opened it to reveal
her tiny transfigured clothes and toiletries.

"Trust you to be clever about everything! C'mon, let me show around. You're going
to love this!" She grabbed her hand and dragged her to the oversized mirror by the lavatories.
She looked down at Hermione's hand in hers.

"Hey, you've still got your ring on!"

"What," Hermione thought absentmindedly, "oh yeah. Old habit I guess." She
gave a limp smile. It had never occurred to her that wearing the ring that they had all shared
would be noticed. Until now, she had even forgotten it was on.

"That's funny, you know, Ron still wears his too."

"He does?" She suddenly didn't feel quite so out of place wearing it.

"All the time. Now watch this!" Ginny stood directly in front of the mirror, tapped it
with her wand, then did a slow spin in front of it, as if inspecting her outfit.
*"Encore,"* she said as she waved her wand again at the mirror. The surface misted
over, then slowly Ginny's reflection appeared, although she had stepped aside. The reflection
did a slow spin, just as Ginny had a moment ago. "Isn't it brilliant? It shows your
reflection from the moment you tap it to the moment you replay it!" Hermione winced slightly.
"Okay, maybe not every witch wants to see how big her bum is in a dress robe - but I'd
want to know if something made me look terrible from behind!"

She grabbed her hand again and led her to one of the bedrooms. The french doors opened into a
soft white, yet stark room. A king size bed with matching soft white linens stood in the middle of
the room. Hermione looked at her quizzically.

"Okay, now just stand right here and try to clear your mind of everything."

Hermione looked at her with slight disbelief, but did her best to follow instructions. She let
her mind drift as much as possible, which was difficult with all that was weighing on her. When she
heard Ginny let out a soft gasp, she opened her eyes.

The room had transfigured to match her mood. Given that her mood was that of forced optimism,
the room did it's best to compensate. Large stuffed animals of all manners were littered on the
bed, which was now covered in frilly mounds of warm yellow lace linens. The wall treatment was
equally unsettling, warm yellow and soft white stripes, with stencils of sunflowers on the lighter
portions of the wall. A brief inspection of the bed showed that the sheets were actually black,
which matched the carpet and the night stands - no doubt indicative of her underlying mood. To
Hermione, it looked as if a bumble bee had exploded.

"Uh, Hermione? Are you feeling alright?"

She smiled at her friend. "I just have a lot on my mind. Do you think I can try
again?"

"I think so, just try to think of something relaxing, something comforting, maybe even
soothing? That should work itself out, I hope..."

Hermione tried again. She followed Ginny's advice... *comforting, relaxing, soothing...
what would make me most comfortable?* She opened her eyes and couldn't help but laugh. Ginny
rolled her eyes at her.

"Hermione! Honestly! We're in Paris, one of the most romantic and exciting cities in
the world and this... this is the best you can come up with?! I don't believe you!
Honestly!"

"I think it's brilliant!' She taunted Ginny, who also couldn't help but
laugh.

"C'mon, let's see if we can't find everyone else. I'm sure they're in
the hotel here somewhere."

"Alright then, hang on." Hermione walked to the vanity and did a cursory check of her
hair and makeup (or lack thereof). She quickly put on some gloss, brushed and clipped her hair out
of her face, and tucked her wand into her sleeve as she dropped her handbag on the night stand. She
closed the doors to her room, which bore a striking resemblance to the Gryffindor' girls'
dormitories, and joined Ginny in the living room.

On the way downstairs, Ginny filled Hermione in on everyone's activities over the summer.
Along with their parents, Ron, Ginny & Harry had toured eastern Europe, which also included
stops in Egypt to visit with Bill, Romania to visit with Charlie, and Spain to spend two days with
Luna and her father as they searched out yet another mystical and elusive creature.

Ron, apparently, had spent most of their vacation pining for Luna. So, as Ginny indicated, the
detour to Spain was simply to shut him up.

Harry, on the other hand, had the most wonderful time on vacation. Since he'd never been
anywhere other than Hogwarts and Privet Drive, the extended travel had really been quite a treat.
Not to mention that he wasn't having to look over his shoulder the entire time, or worry about
any dark lords trying to *leglimens* him in his sleep. Ginny went on and on about how Harry
reminded her of a kid set loose in a sweets shop. He was fairly agog at even the smallest things.
This was fairly similar to what Ron had mentioned in his letters - how could anyone possibly be
*that* fascinated by cars that drove on the right and bed & breakfasts?

They headed towards one of the larger lounges when a pair of voices beckoned to them.

"Oy, if it isn't the brilliant, bushy headed one herself!"

"The brilliantly *famous* bushy headed, Head Girl I do believe!"

Hermione turned and was immediately flanked by the twin Weasleys, who each took turns giving her
enormous bear hugs, lifting and spinning her from the ground.

"Stop you two, you're going to make her sick!"

"No, it's more than alright Ginny. How are you? I've missed you both
terribly!" A huge smile had formed on Hermione's face. All the trepidation that had been
building before she left had nearly completely ebbed away.

"Hear that George? She's missed us *terribly!* Guess that means we didn't
tease you nearly enough in school then?"

"Perhaps a Ton-Tongue toffee in your dessert this evening?"

"Or a Wildfire WhizBang in your bedroom?"

"Thanks you two, but I don't think I could handle any type of whizbangs in my
room." She instantly regretted saying it, then turned bright red.

"Ooooh, look who's got a mouth on her!"

"Kiss your mum with that do you?"

"Oh stop having her on you two! She's only been here a few minutes and you've
already become insufferable!"

"C'mon then Gin, you know we love Hermione as much as you do. We're just making her
feel at home."

"Right, it's not like we'd actually do any of those things to her. Besides, were it
not for Hermione we'd have never..."

"...managed to get away with testing the snackboxes on students," Hermione quickly cut
off Fred, then shot them both a stark warning glance that Ginny didn't completely catch. But
the twins took her meaning plainly, and immediately changed the subject.

"Right... um Gin, what time do you have?"

"It's nearly twenty 'til," she replied, "why?"

"Oh mum's expecting you. She's in a right state about having to meet the Delacours
this afternoon."

"She was hoping you'd be able to help her out a bit. You know, in the *'how not
to look so terribly uncomfortable'* department."

"Oh," Ginny smacked her head, "I forgot! Well then, I'll have to trust you
two to help Hermione find everyone else then." The twins each gave her identical smirks,
"No, really, help her find Ron & Harry, or else..."

"Or else what," they sang in unison.

"Or else I'll tell mum what you *really* did at Bill's bachelor
party."

Fred turned to George, "she's bluffing!"

George turned to Fred, "she couldn't possibly know!"

"Bet you two wish you'd never invented these little gems then," she held up an
Extendable Ear. The twins blanched. "Now play nice you two - it would be good if the entire
family were in attendance for Bill's nuptials!" And with a knowing grin, Ginny turned and
left.

Hermione let out a genuine laugh she simply couldn't suppress. "C'mon you two, you
know she's only teasing," she threw her arms around both their shoulders, "now
please, do tell me of the wonderful world of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes!"

They spent a couple of minutes telling her of their latest successes and current complaints. It
seems that they had overlooked the amount of responsibilities that would come with running a highly
profitable business. As much fun as they had inventing new and fabulous pranks, more and more these
days they found themselves bogged down in the day to day requirements - inventory, billing,
shipping...

"I can't imagine! Fred & George Weasley, responsible, dare I say,
*respectable* businessmen? Your mum must be so proud!"

"Don't you start in Heady."

"Unless you want us to let slip..."

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry...," she laughed back at them. "I'll be good. I
promise."

They continued on to the lounge, where they descended a staircase into the soft and hazy lit
interior. And it was there, midstep on the staircase, that Hermione's hopes of any semblance of
a welcome reunion were completely dashed.

In the corner of the lounge, looking perfectly happy and content, was Harry Potter. And
practically dripping off of his arm...

"Who... who is *that?*"

"Oh, you've noticed her then."

"She'll be ever so pleased, considering what a shy and demure slip of a girl she
is."

But the girl practically clinging to Harry like a second skin was anything but shy and demure.
She had perfectly styled auburn hair, pulled back just enough to reveal her bright and dangly
earrings and a slender neck. Her eyes were dark blue and sparkled every time she laughed, just a
little too loudly, Hermione noted, at almost everything Harry said. It also gave her a chance to
flash every brilliantly white tooth in her head. *'Like a shark,'* Hermione thought
uncomfortably. She had her arm entwined with his and sat as close as possible on the cozy bench
behind the corner table. Everything about her demeanor was unmistakable. Her body language
practically screamed, 'back off, or else!'

"That, my dear Heady, is Horatia Higgenbothan..."

"No George, it's *the* Horatia Higgenbothan!" Fred corrected.

"No Fred, it's *'Please call me Ray-shaaa dears,*'" George drawled
with a lilt.

"Right then, it's Ratia Higgenbothan..."

"Spoiled rotten..."

"Too good for mere mortals..."

"Snotty..."

"Arrogant..."

"Daughter of Horatio Higgenbothan, whose fortune takes up a sizable portion of the vault
space in Gringott's."

"Figured he couldn't let one of Gringott's nearest and dearest wizards..."

"Not to mention one named 'Weasley', which is suddenly a rather popular, well known
name worldwide..."

"Tie the knot without making an appearance."

"A rather splashy, attention grabbing appearance at that."

"And it seems his daughter's no better."

Hermione took this all in, trying her best to rein in the pieces of her shattered heart and ego.
She put on her game face, and faced the twins.

"Ahhh," noted Fred, "we wondered how you'd take this."

"I've no idea what you mean." But the reddening of her face gave her away.

"Of course you don't," George gave her a knowing look.

"Honestly, after everything Harry's been through, he deserves a little...," she
swallowed, "recreation."

Fred and George looked at each other, agape. "Hermione, you can't possibly
mean...?"

"Not with that dolled up cow!"

"Of course," she reasoned, "I'd have thought he'd have better taste than
*that!* At least someone who looks like they might possibly know the difference between an
*'accio'* and an *'alohamora'* to say the least."

"Ah, now *that's* the Hermione we've come to know and love."

"So, what are you going to do about it then?"

"I'm going to say 'hello' to my friend. As for you two, you're going to
help your mother and Ginny, because if you don't, maybe I'll get her to tell *me* what
you did at Bill's bachelor party, and I'm not so easy to bribe." Fred and George knew
her well enough to get her true meaning. Whatever she was going to do, she needed not to have an
audience present. Especially one that had enough suspicions about her true feelings.

"We'll just leave you to it then Heady." Fred gave her a hug of encouragement.

"Just try not to leave a mess when you're done with her Heady." George winked, and
then also hugged her.

"Would you stop calling me that?" She smiled at them, thankful for their
understanding, and watched them walk back up the steps.

But as she slowly finished her descent to the foot of the stairs, she could feel her resolve
fading away. Harry did look perfectly content, as far as she could tell. He continued talking, and
the girl continued laughing, and as much as she hated to admit it, she was truly upset. Not so much
that he was with another girl, that would come later. The offense she took now was that this
person, the laughing, smiling, happy person in the corner booth was a complete stranger to her. She
never knew this Harry. Her Harry was deep, introspective, almost broody. She could read him at a
glance and find exactly what to say to draw him out of his reverie, sometimes eliciting a hard won
smile or laugh. *This* Harry just gave it up willingly. And to that cow no less!

As much as she hated to admit it, she missed the old Harry. Even though he was usually sad and
held the weight of the world on his shoulders, at least she knew how to talk to that Harry. She had
always been close to, and even loved that Harry.

And now he was gone.

She glanced around briefly, noting that he hadn't seen her yet. Would she be able to make it
back up the stairs without being noticed? Maybe the lounge had another exit she could get to
unseen? Hmm, no luck there, so she slowly began climbing the stairs backwards, hoping that maybe,
if she was actually spotted, she could reverse her direction without being too obvious. At this
moment, she'd have given anything for an invisibility cloak.

"HERMIONE!"

*'Bollocks!'*

Ron had entered from the far side of the lounge, and from the corner of her eye she could see
Harry look up at the call of her name.

*'So much for that plan!'*

She quickly reversed her direction, once again walking down the stairs, as Ron rushed to greet
her. He grabbed her, then flung her around, much as the twins had.

"Wow Hermione, it's good to see you again. It seems like ages! When did you get
in?"

"Only just an hour ago. I was just getting settled and the twins were showing me around.
They thought I might find you down here." She could see him getting up, out of the corner of
her eye, *'don't panic, don't panic... it's just Harry. Plain old Harry and...
why won't she let him alone!?'* Ratia had managed to fasten herself to his side as he
crossed the room to join them. *'Okay, it's Harry and the bright and shiny cow! I can
handle this.'*

"So what did you think of the suite? Isn't it fab? If you can believe it, Fred &
George are footing the bill for the lot of us. Say it's their gift for the wedding, making sure
all our family and friends have a place to stay. They certainly did a great job at that!"

"That's great - I had no idea. They didn't mention a word of it."

"Well they wouldn't. It's very odd, but these days they've become more, oh
what's the word, subdued I guess, when it comes to what they've done. Back in the day
they'd have been crowing about it for weeks."

"Well, I guess we've all managed to change a bit over the years." She couldn't
help but look at Harry when she said this, as he finally joined them.

"Hi Hermione, it's great to see you again!"

"Hi Harry." He reached out and gave her a tentative one-armed hug, as that flashy cow
refused to let go of his other arm.

Hermione looked at him, and in an instant could read his expression. At least she still held
that ability. Unfortunately, it didn't look at all good. From what she could read, he looked
uncomfortable. Terribly uncomfortable. Whether it was from just seeing her, or being seen flaunting
Ratia in her presence, she couldn't tell.

"Oh hello, Hermarinee is it?" Ratia flashed her shark-like grin as she held out a hand
towards her.

"Her-*my*-oh-knee actually!" She shook her hand. Hermione noted how it was one of
those lame handshakes, where Ratia barely offered her fingertips and softly pinched instead of
gripped her hand. It was almost as if she were too good to actually be bothered to touch
Hermione's hand.

"Oh yes, of course. Dear Harry's been telling me so much about you."

"I'm sorry... Hermione, this is Horatia Higgenbothan." Harry introduced.

"Oh please dear, call me Ratia." She mock insisted while placing a hand to her upper
chest.

"How nice to meet you Ratia." Hermione offered cooly - apparently Fred and George had
been quite accurate in their assessment.

"Hermione, I'm so glad to see you're doing okay. We hated leaving you in St.
Mungo's..." Harry began.

"But as you can see now, she's perfectly fine!" Ratia cut off Harry rather
abruptly.

"Yes, quite fine thank you," she responded rather tersely.

"Well, I was just about to show Harry around the city. If you'll excuse us." Ratia
practically dragged Harry from the lounge. He slowed a bit despite her insistence.

"I'll catch you up tonight in the suite," Harry offered and waved, as Ratia pulled
him through the doorway.

"C'mon Hermione, I'll get you a butterbeer and you can tell me all about your
muggle summer," Ron smiled at her and led her toward a table.

Hermione gave him a listless smile back as she tried to focus on her other friend, but as they
sat and talked, she couldn't help but think of Harry. She had also noticed that he no longer
wore his ring, one of three made especially for them.

*'He looked so happy,'* she thought, and it depressed her. As much as she may have
disliked Ratia, at least Harry was out there, enjoying himself and finally getting a chance to
live. It was quite plain - he didn't need her anymore. There were no more dark lords to
conquer, no classes to study for, no exams to pass. She had fulfilled whatever role he needed, and
now he had moved on.

She'd become superfluous.

**************

A/N: So sorry to end it there chaps, but it's a Monday, and I have work (ah, the dreaded day
job!) I hope to have this all done by next weekend, but that could be a pipe dream, depending on
what types of crap get dumped on me this week. Never a dull moment here. :^)



4. Low
------

**************

**Low**

Hermione slowly came out of her depressive funk as she spent more and more time talking to Ron.
He had gone into even greater detail about their vacation, and then began pining for Luna. She
couldn't help but marvel at how romantic and even *poetic* he had become in regards to
their Ravenclaw friend. It was sweet, and she admired how much he really cared for her.

She told him about her mostly uneventful summer. She had traveled a bit with her family and had
even managed a get together with her extended family as they gave her something of a sendoff party.
They all found it terribly exciting that Hermione was just beginning her life. Unfortunately, she
lacked their enthusiasm.

Ron told her that he had never been to Paris before, so Hermione offered to show him some of the
great muggle landmarks of the city. They spent the rest of the afternoon walking along the Siene,
climbing the steps of the Eiffel Tower and sampling some of France's local eats (which,
unsurprisingly, turned out to be one of Ron's favorite things). They ran out of time to visit
the Louvre, as they had to return to the hotel for dinner.

Ginny was waiting in the living area, flipping through a muggle fashion magazine, when they
returned.

"There you are! I've been wondering where you'd gotten to. Oh Ron," she
grabbed something from the coffee table, "Luna just sent this. Thought you might want to read
it."

Ron grabbed at it then headed for his room. "Don't be too long! We're supposed be
at dinner in 45 minutes," she called after him. "So, what did you do this
afternoon?"

"I took Ron sightseeing."

"Right - and did you happen to run into Harry?"

"Yes, him and his new ornament."

"Met Ratia then I see. Charming girl isn't she," Ginny replied, her voice dripping
with sarcasm.

"Most charming, if you like doxies!"

"Hermione!" Ginny mocked being scandalized.

"Well, what else would you call something with that many teeth? Honestly!"

"Why Miss Granger - I do believe the kneazle has claws after all."

"Oh shush you! I'm going to get ready for dinner." Hermione went to her room,
grabbed a robe, then shut herself in the bathroom to take a relaxing bath.

Ginny smiled again. She had missed Hermione, and forgot how easy it was to taunt her, especially
when it came to Harry. Why they hadn't gotten together yet was simply beyond her. As if on cue,
the door to the suite opened and Harry came in.

"Don't be too long dear..." She could hear Ratia's voice drifting down the
hallway.

"See you in a bit then Ratia." Harry responded, then closed the door, nearly sinking
against the back of it.

Ginny smirked, "Ratia been keeping you busy then?"

"You've no idea. She must have shown me all of Paris twice over this afternoon. I had
no idea this city was so big." He looked relieved to be back in the suite.

"What are you doing hanging around with her anyway? She's really quite a
boor!"

"Ginny, that's not nice." Harry seemed to contemplate something, "it may be a
little true, but it still isn't nice." He smiled at her, and she laughed back. "I
just can't bring myself to be rude to her. I have so little experience dealing with anyone new.
I can't tell you again how grateful I am that your family managed to shelter me this whole
summer. I guess I'm just going to have to face the world eventually."

"Well, sad but true Harry, but you're going to encounter quite a few 'Ratias'
out there."

"Seriously?" Harry seemed aghast.

"Seriously. Sorry 'bout that. Seems the only benefit that you had when facing Voldemort
is that you at least *knew* what his intentions were. With people like Ratia, you never
*really* have any clue until it's too late."

"Thanks for the warning." Harry slowly rose from the floor. "Where is
everyone?"

"Ron's reading a new letter from Luna, so he could be locked in his room for hours.
Hermione's getting ready, and I was just going to check on Fred and George."

"You're not still extorting them about that bachelor party thing are you?"

"Harry, I'm offended," she teased. "Besides, extortion is such a dirty word.
I prefer to think of it as 'ace up my sleeve', thank you." She smiled and then left
the room.

Harry looked at the clock and decided he best get ready as well. He checked in on Ron, who was
still wholly engrossed in Luna's letter.

"Just come and get me when it's time to leave. I'm ready." Ron waved at him,
never looking up from the letter.

"Alright then." Harry grabbed a robe from his room and some fresh clothes. Being
paraded around Paris by Ratia had left him feeling desperate for a bath. He brought in his watch so
he wouldn't lose track of time, and drew a hot bath to sink in to.

Twenty minutes later and Hermione figured she had indulged herself as long as she dared without
being late. She drained the tub, wrapped herself up in her robe, then exited to the large bank of
sinks that lay between both bathrooms.

"Ginny? Hello?" No answer. Ron was probably still in his room reading, and she
didn't even want to think about what Harry might be doing at the moment. She sighed, then
retrieved her small makeup bag and started touching herself up for the evening. The expansive
mirrors and opulent lighting that bridged the bathrooms were ideal for the task. She didn't
even initially notice the door to the other bathroom open.

Harry emerged wearing a pair of boxers, his robe open, and a handful of clothes draped over his
arm. He had just put his glasses back on when he noticed Hermione at the mirrors. She was in her
silk hotel robe, same as his, and leaning over the sinks while applying mascara. He stood there,
transfixed, as he realized he had rarely ever seen her in anything more revealing than dress robes.
Feeling a blush creeping over his face, he gave a small cough to announce his presence.

"Harry! Oh Merlin you startled me! I thought you were already downstairs."

"I was just about to get dressed. Sorry I didn't have a chance to talk to you earlier
today."

She tried to read his expression, but couldn't quite place it. She also couldn't ignore
his state of undress, as it was definitely the most she had ever seen of him. His open robe exposed
a still moist expanse of torso, and she noticed he wore a small chain that looked like it was
hanging backwards around his neck. A small smile crept across her face, "Oh, I'm sure
we'll have a chance to talk later." *'He actually wants to talk to me? Maybe
there's some hope yet.'* The smile on her face grew.

"Like I said before, about leaving you at St. Mungo's..."

But whatever he was about to say was lost. There was a rather insistent knocking on the door,
and then an unmistakable, grating, absolutely irritating voice, "Harry, are you ready dear? I
was just about to let you walk me down to dinner."

Hermione's smile quickly disappeared. "You'd best get that, *dear,*" she
said coldly, then went back to her mascara.

Harry's face fell, but she was too upset to notice. He walked quickly to the door, opened it
a crack, and told Ratia he was running late and would have to meet her downstairs. He even managed
to close the door quickly enough to cut off her response. But as he turned around to finish talking
to Hermione, he heard the doors to her room slam shut.

He sighed, then quickly got dressed, knocked on Ron's door to collect him, then headed
downstairs.

***

One of the hotel's spacious dining hall's had been reserved for the large party. Many of
the closer knit friends and family members from both sides of the wedding party were present.
Although the wedding was still two days away, both sides had thought this little get together would
be the perfect way to introduce everyone to one another, so that they'd be more comfortable at
the wedding. There were several groups of tables throughout the room, littered with Weasleys and
Delacours.

Harry and Ron had managed to beat Hermione downstairs and had secured a space for her at a table
with the twins, two of Fleur's part-Veela cousins and Ginny. They left a chair between them for
Hermione, and kept scanning the room for signs of her arrival.

It took Hermione a bit of time to bite back her anger. She couldn't figure out if she was
more mad at Harry for hinting that they could still have some semblance of a friendship, or at
herself, for hoping it to be true. She finished fixing her hair, put on a dress robe, then headed
downstairs.

She spotted Ron waving her over through the crowded dining room, but as she approached the
table, she saw Ratia walk up and take the last available seat.

"Actually Ratia, we were saving that for Hermione," Ron growled at her.

Ratia took his meaning perfectly, then flashed one of her Lockheart smiles at Harry, "Oh,
but I'm sure Harry wouldn't mind if I sat here." She turned on the charm full
blast.

"That's alright Ron, maybe I can find Percy. I've been keen to hear what's been
going on at the Ministry since *we* defeated *Voldemort."* Hermione took great
pleasure in seeing Ratia flinch at the name, and blanch at the implication that Hermione had been
one of the key players in the defeat.

"Nonsense. Here," Ron pulled out his wand, conjured a chair between him and Ginny,
then performed a slight engorgement charm on the table.

"I'm impressed Ron! I guess you did learn something in school after all!"

Harry laughed, and the sound made Hermione's spirit lift, until she remembered she was still
trying to be cross with him. "Not without you I didn't. Isn't that right Harry?
We'd probably still be in remedial *everything* if it wasn't for you!"

"Oh," Ratia replied. "I'm sure you're giving Harmione way to much
credit." She flashed that nasty smile again.

"No, they're *not* giving *Hermione* too much credit! Everyone knows
she's one of the smartest witches ever to grace Hogwarts," Ginny defended her
vehemently.

Hermione blushed slightly, glad for Ginny's defense. But whatever nasty little quip Ratia
was about to fling was lost as the first of many toasts and announcements were made for the
evening.

Two hours later and the dinner began to finally wind down. The twins, being quite enamored with
Fleur's cousins, were reluctant to call it a night.

"Oh, but I have a brilliant idea," Ratia looked at Fred and George as she spoke.
"Let's go visit one of those muggle nightclubs. I'm sure we'd have a fabulous
time."

Ginny was quick. "Why that's a great idea Ratia. We'll just grab Harry and Ron and
change into some muggle clothes then." She grabbed Hermione's hand, stood from the table,
then motioned Harry and Ron to follow suit.

Ratia bared a malevolent smile, "alright dear, if you think you'd all be comfortable in
*tagging along."*

"Not at all Ratia. I just hope *you* don't feel too uncomfortable, seeing as how
we've all known each other for *years,"* Ginny shot back, then herded the group
upstairs.

"I don't know Ginny, I don't really have anything to go clubbing in," Hermione
said, as the boys went into their rooms to find something to wear.

"Hermione, I am not letting that smarmy bint get away with shutting *us* out of
something. Honestly, the nerve of her." Ginny rifled through her drawers, coming up with a
pair of jeans, a pink t-shirt and some heels. She sighed, "I guess this will have to do
then."

"Can't say I'm much better over here either." Hermione had also found a some
jeans, a tank top and a pair of sandals.

"That's not half bad tho', here," Ginny made to pull back her hair, than
applied some more makeup. "Oh, that's loads better, now do me!" Hermione put some
more mascara on Ginny, then touched up her lipstick.

"Oy, you ready then?!" Ginny shouted towards the boy's rooms.

Ron and Harry both emerged from their rooms, looking about the same as the girls - jeans,
trainers, and while Ron had a blue button down shirt, Harry wore a light sweater that matched his
eyes. Hermione couldn't help but note how nice he looked. Apparently he thought the same of
her.

"You look very nice Hermione."

"Um, thanks Harry. You too." She shouldn't have been at all nervous, but she
was.

They met up with the twins and their dates in the lobby, and Ratia joined them, looking
resplendent in the latest muggle clubbing gear.

"Oh, I'm sure she didn't plan *this* at all...," Ginny remarked to
Hermione, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Ratia led them downtown towards a venue frequented by *'backpacking through
Europe'* college-aged muggles. The club, known as *La Salle Sombre,* was located in a
narrow alleyway next to an all night coffee shop and a darkened gallery that showcased local
artists. There was a large line of people waiting to get in, but Ratia, without even flinching,
strode directly up to the bouncer, whispered something to him (and Hermione could've sworn she
had pointed towards her and Ginny), and then laughed with that shrill, banshee-like cry of hers,
then motioned them forward. She immediately grabbed Harry, then Ron, and strode through the opening
the bouncer created by opening the velvet rope. The twins and their dates followed suit, but when
Hermione and Ginny approached, the bouncer stopped them.

"No no my little ones. Can't let you in."

"What do you mean you can't let us in!? Our friends are in there!" Ginny was in a
right state.

"Sorry, but you're underage."

"We are not," Ginny protested, and Hermione placed a hand on her arm to stop her, but
it was too late, "we're both seventeen!" Hermione rolled her eyes.

*"Exactement ma petite chouchou,* no one under 18." He gave a menacing smile,
then turned his back to them.

"What does he mean, 'no one under 18'! What's so important about 18?"
Ginny was livid.

"I'm sorry, I tried to stop you. Eighteen is the legal age in the muggle world, not
seventeen."

"Oooooh, that wretched *slag!"*

*"Ginny!"*

"She *knew* we weren't old enough - that's what she told that big brute over
there! Bastard! Well, we'll just see about *that* then!"

"What do you mean?"

"We're going to apparate in there and show her a thing a two."

"No we're not Ginny."

"What d'you mean we're not. We're not going to let her get away
this?!"

But Hermione was feeling utterly dejected, completely defeated. She'd had less than two
sentences worth of conversation with Harry the entire time she'd been here, and it was quite
obvious to her who he preferred to be with. *'So much for true love conquers all
then,'* she thought derisively, *'I don't even rate a decent
conversation.'*

"You're right Ginny, she's a right tart, but I'm tired. I just don't have
it in me anymore." Hermione turned to leave.

Ginny was utterly shocked at the tone of her friend's voice. This was not the same Hermione
she knew, the one who doggedly hunted out the solution to every problem. The one who would never,
ever, let anyone get the better of her. And yet, here she was, walking down this desolate alley,
her head hung low. Everything about her screamed *'defeat'.*

"Hermione, wait! What's going on with you?" She was surprised to see tears in her
eyes.

"Not here Ginny." She wiped her eyes.

"Alright," Ginny's voice was soft. "I'll..., I'll walk you
back."

They took the same route back, not speaking, but walking in comfortable silence.

***

"Oy, Harry, you seen the girls?" Ron shouted over the din of the music.

Harry looked around, straining to pull himself free of Ratia, "No! I don't think
I've seen them since we got here!"

"Why, they're over there dears. Dancing with that group of muggles!" Ratia pointed
towards a large group flailing about in the back of the club. "It looks like they're
having a fabulous time. We should do the same, don't you think?" And with that she pulled
Harry out onto the dance floor, and a pretty brown haired girl with a ring in her lip asked Ron to
dance.

***

They entered the suite, and Hermione went straight to her room to change. Ginny sat down, unsure
of what to say to her friend. She was startled out of her thoughts as the doors to Ron's room
opened and Luna emerged.

"Luna? What are you doing here?"

"Hi Ginny! Where's Ronald?"

"Oh," Ginny rolled her eyes, "he's been swept away by the vilest creature
known to the wizarding world."

"Do you mean her?" Luna pulled out a copy of that evening's edition of The Daily
Prophet that she had brought with her, which currently sported a large photo of Ratia and Harry
visiting the Sacre Couer with the headline 'Love Finds Harry Potter in Paris'.

Ginny jumped to her feet and grabbed the paper from Luna. "This is too much! I bet she
planned this, that whoring little... hang on a tic, how did you know I was talking about
her?"

"Oh, I've met Horatia before, although I doubt she'd remember me. It was during a
party when I was much younger. My father had taken me because he was meeting some friends and their
children. I don't like to discuss it," Luna stifled a sigh, "but let's just say
that I know exactly what *she*," she pointed at the paper, "is capable of. And the
last thing I want is for her to be anywhere near my Ronald!"

"Well, you needn't worry too much there. Seems she has her hooks set well into
Harry."

"Yes, but I'm Harry's friend too. I couldn't let *that*," she
motioned to the paper again, "get a hold of him. Ronald would never forgive me."

"Well I'm glad you're set on doing something about it. I think Hermione's given
up hope."

"Where is Hermione?"

"In her room. She's quite upset."

"Of course she is," Luna cast a sympathetic gaze towards the room. "Now, where
are they?"

"She dragged them off to some muggle club. Oh, but make certain you tell them you're
eighteen, otherwise they won't let you in."

Luna was now leafing through Ginny's muggle fashion magazine. "Hmm, I don't think
that will be a problem." She found an outfit she liked, set down the magazine, then
transfigured her robes to match the outfit she'd seen. She looked well beyond eighteen the way
she was now dressed.

"Now why didn't I think of that?"

Luna looked around the room, then spotted a sampler pack from Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes.
She picked it up and selected a few items. "Is it alright if I take some of these?"

"Take as many as you like." The curiosity was killing her. "So, what are you
going to do?"

"I'm just going to let Ronald know that I'm here. I'm also going to Harry know
that I'm here, and then I'm going to pry that *lethifold* off of him. Try and cheer
Hermione up. I'm certain this whole nasty business has her quite distraught."

"You can say that again."

"So where exactly is this muggle club?"

**************

A/N Okay kiddies, this is really where I draw the line. You see, I, like many others before me,
have become addicted to feedback, and your request for more has not gone unnoticed. This is why
I'm posting this chapter now, rather than when I'm well underway on the next one - which is
what I've been trying to do. Unfortunately for you, this means a longer gap before I post the
next one. Sorry 'bout that - my humblest apologies. I'm also terrible at writing Luna - I
don't think anyone can do her justice like Fenriswolf - so, more apologies there as well. And I
promise, Harry isn't being as stupid as you may think - there's actually an explanation,
really, but you already knew that. <grin> I'm so bloody obvious sometimes.



5. Fatuous
----------

a/n Okay, here's one more fresh from the presses... I'm thinking it's maybe two or
three more looong chaps after this. And sorry, I'll warn you now, we're a long way from
fluffy here, but bear with me. I've managed to tear myself away from my new Dr. Who DVD to give
you this one! :^)

**************

**Fatuous**

A few minutes after Luna left, Ginny went to Hermione's room and tapped on the door.

"Hermione? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine Ginny." But the tone of her voice indicated otherwise.

"You coming out then?"

"I'm a right mess."

"I've seen worse. C'mon Hermione."

She opened the door, wearing an old pair of sweatpants, a t-shirt that was easily twice her size
that had once belonged to her father and her hair pulled back into a loose ponytail. Her eyes were
raw and her face puffy, and she did look quite the mess. Not that Ginny would ever tell her that -
friends simply didn't point things like that out, especially at times like these.

"Hermione - what is the matter with you? I don't think I've ever seen you so upset,
and considering the things we've been through, that's quite a significant
statement!"

She gave her a wan smile, "I'm sorry Ginny. I'm just... I'm just so
*stupid."*

*"Hermione,"* Ginny held her about the shoulders and stared intently at her,
"in all the years I've known you, I've discovered that you are many, many things, but
'stupid' has never, *ever,* been one of them. What on earth has gotten into
you?"

She laughed... a sad and slightly hysterical laugh that made Ginny extremely uneasy. "What
was I *thinking?* How did I manage to ruin a seven year friendship in the space of *five
minutes?!"* She shook Ginny slightly by the shoulders as she enunciated the last words,
then started crying again.

Ginny led her to the couch, where she remained, softly crying. She thought, for a moment, to
retrieve Mrs. Weasley. Surely she'd know what to do. But, with everything that was no doubt
weighing on her with the wedding, Ginny figured she was on her own. *'What to do,'*
she thought. *'First, I need to calm her down.'* She looked around the room, and her
eyes settled on the wet bar. *'Well why not? It's not as if we're not old enough
anyway!'* She picked a bottle at random, something bright and green, and collected two
glasses. She brought them to the coffee table, set them down, then poured.

"Here Hermione, have some of this." Hermione looked up at Ginny through bleary eyes,
then sniffed.

"What is it?"

"I've no clue, but it couldn't possibly make you feel any worse. Bottoms up
then." Ginny raised her glass and took a sip. It was brutally strong, and made her eyes water.
She made a face as it went down, and considered possibly switching her choice of drink. She wiped
at her eyes, and it took a moment to regain her composure, but then she began to sputter and
cough.

Hermione, on the other hand, had not only downed her entire glass, she was pouring another. A
rather large 'other at that. Ginny watched in amazement as she swallowed a considerable second
glass of the viscous green concoction, then tried to settle into the low backed settee.

"Oooh, I hate these things! Not comfortable at all!" She marched off to her room, then
came stomping back, wand in hand, and quickly transfigured all the furniture into something more
'common-room-squashy'. She then poured a third glass, downed that, then threw herself back
into the sofa.

"Hermione, what on earth is the matter with you? You're not at all yourself!"

"I know," she wore a manic grin and began crying again. "You're absolutely
right Ginny! I'm not at *all* myself! The truth is, I don't even know what that
*means!* The only 'myself' I can remember is the me in Hogwarts. The Head Girl, the
smart one, the one who could figure out the answers..., the one...., the one who used to
help....," her sobbing began to hitch. "Ginny, what am I supposed to do if I'm not
saving Harry? If I'm not lecturing Ron? What am I supposed to do when no one needs me
anymore?!" She'd become completely hysterical.

Ginny wrapped her in a hug and did her best to console her. "Hermione, you don't know
what you're talking about. We all still need you... you're our friend."

"But.. but you don't understand."

"Then explain it to me, you're terribly good at that." Hermione shot her a
halfhearted glare. "Honestly Hermione, I want to help."

She tried to calm down as best she could, her sobs slowly becoming sniffles. Ginny offered her
another glass, and Hermione swigged it quickly, as if trying to summon courage. She looked as if
she were about to begin, but then quickly downed yet another glass before starting.

She sighed, "Ginny, do you know the last time I spoke with Harry, I mean, *really*
spoke with Harry."

"That wouldn't be this afternoon?"

"Not even close," she sighed again. "Ginny, I haven't had an actual
conversation with Harry since June, and that was an *'if we should all die'*
conversation."

"But in hospital..."

"No, they'd drawn the curtains around him before we had a chance to speak."

"Well, surely when you woke..."

"He was at the Burrow by the time I'd woken and left St. Mungo's."

"What about..."

"You went on vacation."

"But surely he sent letters?"

"Three. 'Glad you're awake,' 'Prague has pretty buildings,' and
'The Berlin Wall is gone.' Believe me when I say I'm not paraphrasing."

"That's all?"

"That's all, unless of course you count today, which included a 'catch you up
later.' That's about the extent of it."

Ginny was at a loss for words. She'd gotten to know Harry fairly well during their vacation,
but she couldn't believe he had shut Hermione out so completely. It simply didn't seem
possible.

"Hermione, I don't understand. You're best friends."

"I thought that too - but Ginny, don't you see? He doesn't need me anymore.
D'you know we were all supposed to get a flat together this year? But no, no one's
mentioned a word of it. It's as if they've both forgotten. Like they don't want me
anymore and don't know how to tell me. I feel like I'm skirting around them now Ginny! Like
I'm some sort of.... it's like I'm *Colin Creevey!"* She let out a sob at
this realization. "Harry doesn't need me anymore. Neither does Ron."

"But Ron's been writing you loads. I know that much."

"Well, he's been just as nice to me," she took a breath. "Ginny, you know Ron
used to fancy me."

"That was quite a while ago."

"I know. It was a long time ago, and I don't think I was ready for that kind of
relationship. I was completely content the way things were, and, truth be told, I didn't feel
at all the same way."

"Well, then it's good you never had to tell him that."

"And then he found Luna, and don't mistake me, I think he and Luna are brilliant.
It's just that, sometimes, and I know this might sound awful, but I kind of miss the
attention."

Ginny's eyes went wide open in astonishment.

"I know, I know! It's a horrible thing to say. But Ginny, you have to understand, even
if you don't fancy someone, even if the one *you* fancy doesn't even acknowledge you
*'in that way'.*.. well, I mean... it's still good to feel *wanted* by
someone. Even if it's not the one you want."

Ginny was aghast. "So what are you saying? That you were using Ron?!" Her voice had
gone up a notch.

"Oh gods no! Ginny, look at me! You *know* me! Do you think I'd ever, ever,
*use* anyone? Let alone Ron? It's not as if I'm some sort of master of feminine wiles
like whats-her-ratio! "

"I'd never compare you to her - but the way you're talking..."

"I'm just saying Ginny, that once upon a time, a time that will never, ever, come
again, I felt wanted. I felt needed. And now Ron has Luna, and Harry... well, I'd never want
him to be in danger, but now that he's defeated Voldemort and he doesn't have to worry
about his OWLs or his NEWTs... and the way he didn't even acknowledge... Ginny, it's so
obvious. I'm of no use to him. He's made that perfectly clear."

"That's not true Hermione! I know Harry too, don't forget. I know he may be as
thick as my brother sometimes, but he would never be so cold, especially to you. There has to be
something else, some reason..."

"There's a reason alright," she drank another glass, "and the worst of it is
that I think this is all my fault."

Ginny took another drink herself, slowly becoming accustomed to the green liquid. "What do
you mean it's your fault? It's not as if you drove him away."

Hermione started softly crying again. "But I *did* Ginny. That's exactly what I
did. But I had to do it.. I thought I'd lost him.... and now, now I really have!" She sank
to the floor and sat there, her head hung low, her ponytail upended and covering her face.

"Oh Hermione, surely it can't be that bad," she sank to the floor as well and
placed a consoling hand on her shoulder.

Her voice was muffled through her sobs, "But it is Ginny... it really is."

"Tell me, please," she kept her voice soft, hoping to draw her out.

Hermione raised her head, and for a moment her eyes swam while the liquor began to take strong
affect. Luckily she was already on the floor and had nowhere to fall. It took her a moment, but she
regained her composure, then gave Ginny a soft smile to let her know she was alright.

"It was after that spell," her voice was barely a whisper.

Ginny had to think a moment. "D'you mean that binding spell, the one that Harry used to
draw on your collective powers."

"Yep, that's the one." Hermione's attitude was slowly shifting from one of
disconsolation to offhand disregard. The liquor aided her in continuing. "It was right after
that. Did Ron tell you what it was like?"

"Um, waitaminute...," the alcohol was finally affecting Ginny as well. She felt as if
she were thinking in slow motion. "Something about the three of you being happy or
something?"

"It was the most marvelous thing Ginny. I didn't know it at the time, but it was the
last time I would ever feel like that. It was like, like in an instant we were reliving every happy
thing that we had ever shared. There were none of the bad parts, just the happy ones. The wonderful
ones. It was, just, *euphoric*. And then it was gone." She tried to maintain a neutrality
in relaying these events to Ginny, but the sadness heavily laced her voice.

"He never described it quite like that. He just told me you shared the spell, and then you
had to find Harry."

"Yes - I had to find Harry. I used mine," she flashed her ring at her, "because
Ron was too injured. He couldn't go running around on that leg of his. So, I twist...,"
her eyes crossed slightly as she focused on the ring, "...I twisted my ring for Harry, and
then I found him."

"And then everyone found you." Ginny sounded happy, as if she had just figured
something out.

"Nope... nope, nope, nope. I," she thumped her chest with her finger, "I found
him. But it was baaad Gin... it was really bad!"

"Don't call me Gin." She tried to force a glare, but only managed to cross her
eyes a bit. "What was bad 'Mione?"

"Oh Ginny," Hermione became weepy, "it was Harry. But he was gone!"

Ginny tried to knit her brow into a questioning look, but only managed to cross her eyes again.
"What d'you mean he was gone?"

"He was *gone,"* she exclaimed in a whisper, as if telling a ghost story at a
campfire. "I mean, he was there, but he was gone!"

"Huh?"

"He was standing there Ginny," she was weepy again, "but he was vacant...
y'know, just empty. He kept staring at Vol, er, Voldee... um," she knit her brow in
concentration, "you know, at Riddle, but he was, like, cat... cata..., um..."

"He was cat tonic!" Ginny exclaimed.

"Yeah," Hermione looked at her in earnest, then her voice cracked, "he was cat
tonic!"

"What did you do?"

"I tried to shake him, like this," she grabbed a pillow and throttled it. "But it
didn't work Ginny!" Her voice climbed an octave as she cried some more. "And I
thought he was gone... I thought he was gonna be cat tonic forever and ever!" She cried some
more, then wiped her eyes and scrubbed her hand over her nose.

"Poor Harry," Ginny whimpered sympathetically.

"I know, poor Harry!" Hermione whole heartedly agreed. "And poor me! I didn't
tell him Ginny! In all those years I promised to never, ever tell him, because I was afraid! I
thought I would get him killed - but then I found him, and he was all cat tonic, and I thought
'poor Harry will never know'. So I *told* him Ginny!"

"Good for you!"

"Good for me!"

They each downed another glass.

"What did you tell him?"

Hermione laughed, "I told him I loved him Ginny. I told him about how I've loved him
for years and years and years. And then I *begged* him Ginny. I begged him to come back to me
because I loved him sooooo much!"

Ginny leaned forward, "I knew it! I knew you loved him!"

"Are you mad at me?"

"Oh no, I used to like Harry, but I never '*loooved'* him, not like that.
Besides, if I had loved him I never would have slept with Dean.... oh!" Her face went bright
red, and then she laughed and laughed.

But Hermione only wailed more, "you see, even *you* have someone! I'm *never*
going to have *anyone!"*

"So what happened?" She gave Hermione a light shove. Her wailing stopped as she
remembered she was in the middle of a story.

"I kissed him. A lot. All over his face. And then I cried all over his robes. And then he
woke up."

"No more cat tonica?"

"No more cat tonica?"

"It's like a fairytale 'Mione, you kissed him and *'poof'* he woke
up!" Ginny had a huge grin on her face. "So what happened then?"

"You know what happened then - nothing! Nothing at all! We went to Saint Mambo's and
I've not seen him 'til today!"

"WHAT!" Ginny jumped to her feet, and then swayed and caught herself on an armchair.
"NO WAY! N'UH UH!!"

"Uh huh...," Hermione still sat on the floor, sadly twisting the hem of her shirt.

"NO WAY!! HOW COULD HE *DO* THAT TO YOU!?"

"He doesn't love me Ginny!" She looked up at the redhead, her eyes bright and
shiny with new tears. "I don't even think he *likes* me anymore! He's all done
with me - no more use to him whatsoever!"

"But that doesn't make any sense!" Ginny was having a hard time holding on to
rational thought. "There's simply got to be something else?"

Hermione finally stood, rather slowly and with great care, then puffed up her chest and stared
directly at Ginny. "Well it doesn't matter, because I don't care! I'm through with
Harry! If he doesn't need me, then I don't need him!" She walked carefully to the bar
and found another bottle at random, as they'd exhausted the green liquor.

"But Harry can't possibly be that stupid...?"

"No no no! No more Harry! We don't talk about him anymore!" Her speech was getting
thick, but was stern.

"Alright then, no more Harry!"

"No more Harry!" They toasted and downed the new amber drink.

"But I still don't like that shiny bint with him," Ginny muttered.

"No more Ratio!" Hermione raised another toast.

"No more *lethifold!"* GInny snickered and Hermione gave a hearty snort.
"D'you like that? Luna called her that!"

"Luna's here? Where is la la Luna?" Hermione squinted and looked around the room,
as if expecting her to jump out of a corner.

"She went looking for Ron of course."

"In that wretched muggle club?"

"Yep."

"But she'll never make it past that '*chouchou'* bloke!"

"Oh yes she will. There's a reason she's in Ravenclaw. Look." Ginny grabbed
the fashion magazine and held it out to Hermione. "She made herself look like that!"

"Is it even legal to look that tarty?!"

"It makes her *look* legal. She just transfigured her outfit to match this cow
here."

"Why didn't *we* think of that?"

*"That's what I said!"* Ginny practically screamed.

Hermione began flipping through the pages and stopped at another young model. "You know, if
we looked like *that*, there's no way he'd have kept us out. Did you see the way all
those guys were looking at the girls who looked like this?" She stabbed her finger at the
magazine.

"They were drooling!"

"HA! Drooooooling," she drawled, then an idea seemed to flit through her
consciousness. "I bet *we* could look like this!"

"Ooooh, I wanna try!" Ginny was practically jumping, but then had to grab hold of
something to keep from falling over.

"Okay, okay, okay," Hermione rifled through the pages. "Oooooh there! How
'bout that one?"

Ginny looked and couldn't help but laugh out loud. The picture she was pointing to showed a
slender girl, also with red hair worn in a spiked and teased ponytail that pulled on one side and
had black streaks. Her makeup was far from subtle - heavy black eyeliner, nearly black lipstick and
hardly any rouge at all. Why the young muggle fashions leaned so heavily towards ghoulish was
beyond Ginny, but it was the outfit she was enamored with. The top was bright blue with thin black
stripes and was off the shoulder. It was a tight and stretchy knit that covered some of the upper
arms and most of the torso. The model's navel was exposed, and Ginny gasped when she saw the
piercing. "Oh no, I don't fancy one of them!" The outfit was completed with an
extremely low rise pair of tight and flared black slacks with peek-a-boo patches down the outer
leg, and a pair of thick and chunky black boots.

"Oh no 'Mione. There's no way I could look like THAT!"

"Hang on a minute...," Hermione slowly fell to the floor, then leaned forward on all
fours to crawl about. After a brief moment she let out a shriek of triumph, "AHA," and
raised up her misplaced wand. She walked her hands backwards so that she was in a sitting position,
then leaned against the sofa and, with an extremely concentrated effort, managed to stand. She
moved closer to Ginny, then grasped her shoulders and did her best to look completely serious.
"Ginevra Weasley, my friend, my confidante... do you trust me?"

"Completely!"

"Good," she paused, "do you trust that I, the Head Girl of all of the
world," she snickered, "can make you," she pointed her wand at her, "look like
that," she pointed at the magazine, "even when I'm like this," she pointed the
wand at herself, then stumbled before catching herself.

Ginny took a brief moment to think. "If you mess it up, it's nothing you can't fix
in the morning." She wore a huge grin.

"Exactly!" Hermione smiled back. "Okay, now let me concentrate...," she
squeezed her eyes shut, then curled the tip of her tongue around the outer edge of her upper lip.
She opened her eyes, muttered something, then twirled her wand at Ginny.

The first thing Ginny noted was how much tighter everything was. She looked down and saw she was
wearing a fairly good facsimile of the tarty outfit. She clapped her hands in glee, then went over
to the large mirror. "Lemme see your wand." She tapped the mirror, paraded in front of
it, then tapped it again. *"Encore!"*

She was delighted to see herself strutting about.

"Now you! Now you!" She screamed at Hermione.

"Hang on...," Hermione flipped through the pages again, until she found something she
thought was suitably trampy. She showed it to Ginny.

"Oh no, that's a lingerie ad!"

"No *wonder* you can see everything!" She flipped through again, then shrieked
when she found just the right one. "This one Gin, I want this one!" Ginny looked it over
and seemed to approve, but then something occurred to her.

"Uh, 'Mione, I don't think I can manage that. I'm not nearly as good in, er,
transfigging like you are."

Hermione wrinkled her nose, "that's not even a *word* Ginny, but I think
you're right." She faced the large bank of mirrors, looked at the magazine one more time,
screwed up her face in concentration, then aimed the spell right at her reflection. She watched the
transformation and was reminded of Cinderella, albeit a somewhat goth and naughty version of it,
but the change was nearly as dramatic. Her oversized t-shirt shrunk, changed colors then grew
sleeves. It was now a hot pink, mock turtleneck top with long sleeves and a large round keyhole
situated just below her collarbone and just above her cleavage. It also tightly hugged her bosom
and ended just below it. Her midsection was completely exposed, then ended at the top of her low
rise and flared black skirt. There were little silver studs that dotted the waistline, and the
outfit was completed with dark stockings and black platform heeled boots that came up just to her
calves.

"Merlin 'Mione! Look at you... and your hair!" Hermione had to stop
staring at her sudden cleavage to notice her hair. It had become quite like the model's, thick
sections of it lay straight, with ringlet curls scattered throughout. Parts of it were also
gathered near the top, giving the semblance of some sexy type of long bouffant. It was also
streaked bright pink.

"Whoa...," Hermione was completely amazed! Even drunk she had managed no less than a
stunning transformation. Ginny grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

"Here Hermione, show the mirror!" She grabbed her wand and tapped it, then told
Hermione to strut like she had. Having never in her life looked this different, she took great
relish in showing off her whole new look. Ginny tapped the mirror again and said the incantation,
and Hermione watched, amazed.

"Is that *me?"*

"You better believe your bollocks that's you!"

"Oh Ginny," she grabbed back her wand and tucked it into the forearm of her sleeve,
"c'mon, let's go!" She grabbed her arm and started heading towards the door.

Ginny giggled, then burst out into full blown laughter. She wiped at her eyes, then stared at
Hermione. "You're not *serious?* We can't go out looking like *this!* Mum
would kill me... come to think of it, she'd kill *you* too!"

"But Ginny, I have to! Don't you see? This is exactly what I need! Just look at
us!" She pointed at the bank of mirrors. "We're so pretty..."

"And we're completely pissed."

"Yep, there's no better time. Don't think I'd go out if I weren't
blitzed." She giggled.

"No way 'Mione, you're completely barmy! I'm sorry, but I'm putting my foot
down, no, make that both feet! Yep, both feet, down!" Ginny crossed her arms and tried to
affect a Mrs. Weasley stern glare.

"Suit yourself. *I'm* going to have *fun!"* She turned for the door.

"You're not going out alone, not like that!"

"Why ever not?"

"Because you're totally *bladdered*. And you could get hurt or
something."

"I'm not stupid enough to get myself splinched!"

"That's not what I mean. I'm sorry you're feeling unwanted, but I happen to
love you very much. You're one of my best friends and I don't want to see you get hurt. So
no, you're not allowed to leave."

Hermione sighed, then looked up at Ginny. "I'm sorry Ginny. Please forgive
me."

Ginny looked puzzled. "There's no need to be sorry Hermione."

"Yes. Yes, there really is. Just know Ginny, I love you too, and thank you." And then
she kissed her cheek with the overwrought emotion of someone who is drunk in the extreme.

And then there was a dull thud, followed by the slamming of the outer doors.

**************



6. Three in One
---------------

**************

A/N Sorry this one's been so long in coming. I've had nothing but things flying at me
from left and right over the last month or so, and I didn't want to risk being scalped by the
fanfic police. Hopefully this one was worth the wait. It's sufficiently long - longest one yet
actually, and I hope it can help with the withdrawals until the next one. Thanks again for all the
feedback.

**************

**Three in One**

Harry wasn't entirely certain how, but he had managed to wrest himself free of Ratia and had
taken refuge in the men's room. However, refuge might have been too generous a word. The
restroom had a small series of bare lightbulbs dangling from the ceiling, one of which was slowly
sputtering to death, making the dreary room even more depressing. There were only two urinals
against the wall and three toilet stalls, none of which had the benefit of doors. The walls were
thick with coats of dark green enamel paint that had been applied over the years. In Harry's
opinion, it looked as if someone had decided that painting the walls would be easier than trying to
clean them. The floor was concrete, also thick with paint - no doubt the same theory applying to
it's maintenance. Three sinks lined the other wall, two of which actually worked, while the
third maintained a thin and steady stream that never varied, no matter which way you turned the
knob. And the mirror above the sink had a perpetual haze, whether from the material it was made
from or the fact that it had never been cleaned, Harry couldn't be certain.

He had managed to hide out here for, he glanced at his watch, a good half an hour. He considered
trying to apparate out, or even just sneak out through the crowded dance floor, but he couldn't
bear to be that rude, no matter how irritating Ratia had been. He also didn't like the idea of
leaving Ron or the girls here. However, he was certain the twins could fend for themselves.

He again tried to rest against the joining walls in the corner of the room, between the sinks
and the bare wall. It was difficult to just stand there and not look like some type of pervert, but
the alternative, he decided, was much worse.

How he had managed to become such a willing victim for the likes of Horatia Higgenbothan had
puzzled him. It had started the previous evening, when he, Ron and the rest of the Weasleys had
arrived at the hotel. When they had checked in he had a funny feeling, as if someone were watching
him. After years of defending himself from all manner of dark forces, one developed a sixth sense
about these things. He felt almost as if her were being stalked, and, when they had entered the
lift to go to their various suites, he had noticed her staring at him from the lobby. She sat in
the waiting area, surrounded by various bits of luggage, and had been peering at him from over the
top of a large magazine.

He hadn't realized until now how lucky it was that he and the Weasleys had shared breakfast
in the privacy of the elaborate executive suite that Fred and George had reserved for their
parents. It was an unparalleled treat to have the entire family gathered together. Mr. Weasley had
insisted that the importance of this meal was to share time alone with just family, before
welcoming in another member by marriage. Harry had felt a bit out of place then, but Ginny had
nudged him and whispered that he was probably more a part of the family than marriage could ever
make him. He felt much more at ease then, and thoroughly enjoyed his time with the assembled
Weasleys.

After breakfast, he, Ron and Ginny had returned to their suite and slowly recovered from the
immense meal. They spoke about what they'd like to do while in Paris, none of them having an
actual plan, as they had never been to the city before. They had decided to roam about the hotel,
looking for brochures or pamphlets detailing local venues, and getting a general idea of all the
resort had to offer. That was when Ginny had reminded them that Hermione would be arriving around
noon, and Harry decided, rather hastily, that perhaps he should take a good, long while to scope
out the resort.

Part of him felt guilty about avoiding her, but in all their time apart, he still couldn't
think of quite what to say. Every time he had tried to give it some attention in the last two
months, it made him feel terribly uncomfortable. He procrastinated so heavily on the matter, that
now he found himself with only hours left before seeing her and not having one clue what to say.
Perhaps, he reasoned, the answer would come to him if he wandered a bit (and avoided the situation
like the coward he'd become).

In truth, he did miss her terribly, all awkwardness aside. Because of the delicacy the situation
demanded, he had kept his two letters to her completely sparse. What he thought he might have to
say he couldn't bring himself to write down. It required no less than a face to face
conversation.

But what to say, and what to do.

Unfortunately, he lost all ability to ruminate on the situation shortly after leaving the suite.
He had wandered into the large atrium of the resort, and had been immediately ambushed by Ratia.
Calling it anything less would be an understatement.

She had introduced herself, he recalled, as if he should obviously know who she was. Some part
of him was distinctly reminded of Rita Skeeter, but, in total fairness, Ratia was much nicer to
look at. She had gushed somewhat about his obvious fame, but had seemed much more interested in
talking about herself, her notoriety and her father's vast fortune. As much as he hated to
admit it, she was something of a welcomed distraction, as thinking about the complexity of Hermione
was making his head hurt.

Ratia had led him to the beautifully lit lounge and basically demanded nothing less than his
full attention. After she felt she had given the subject of herself ample attention, she managed to
keep Harry engaged in interesting, even fascinating conversation for nearly two hours. For all of
his formidable power, Harry was clearly outclassed when it came to his social abilities. Not only
had Ratia managed to get him to agree to a guided tour of the city, but she'd also convinced
him to escort her to the welcome dinner that evening.

And that was when Hermione had arrived, and reminded him why he was out and about in the first
place. He felt as if he'd been caught without having done his homework when he saw her. And
despite his happiness at her arrival, that uncomfortable feeling crept over him and plainly must
have shown on his face. Luckily, at the time, Ratia had dragged him off on that guided tour, and
he'd had a few more hours to think up what to say to Hermione.

Unfortunately, this had only seemed to encourage Ratia. She had become his shadow for the rest
of the day and what was fast becoming a long, long night. She may be an attractive and fabulously
wealthy witch, but she was keeping him from the much more important matter at hand, and he simply
couldn't put off the situation with Hermione any longer. The more time it took to actually
speak with her, to have *that* conversation, the more guilty he felt.

He sighed, then noted yet another patron had eyed him warily upon entering the bathroom, and had
taken the stall furthest from Harry's line of sight. *'Okay, enough with the pervy bit,
time to face the music,'* he thought, then headed back into the hazy din of the
nightclub.

He stood on tiptoes as he tried to catch a glance of anyone recognizable. His mistake was
standing out as he did so.

"There you are! We were wondering where'd you gone off to dear." That unmistakable
voice managed to cut through the loud music and raised conversations around them.

"Uh, hi Ratia. I was just looking for my friends. It really is getting late, and we're
meant to pick up our dress robes first thing in the morning," a small white lie, but hopefully
an effective one. "We really should be heading off."

"But it's still early yet Harry. Surely you want to experience the Paris
nightlife?"

"Maybe some other time. It really is getting late."

"Well then, I guess I'll just have to let you walk me back to the resort then,"
she smiled and gave a flirtatious laugh, then entwined her arm with his.

*'At least we're leaving,'* Harry tried to focus on the positive. "Ratia,
have you seen Ron or the girls?"

There was a momentary flicker of her expression before she answered, "I think he's on
the dance floor, and I'm sure the girls are here somewhere." She waved her arm off in a
broad direction.

Harry spotted Ron's head bouncing up and down in the throng of people dancing. He wedged his
way through the crowd, his task made that much more difficult with Ratia glued to his side. He
finally made his way up to Ron, then vigorously jabbed at his shoulder with two fingers.

"RON!"

Ron turned around, his face red and shiny with sweat from the exertion.

"HEY HARRY, WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? ISN'T THIS GREAT?" He threw his head back to
indicate the girl thrashing wildly behind him. It was the same girl with facial jewelry that had
asked him to dance when they had first arrived.

"RON, C'MON, LET'S GO THEN. IT'S GETTING LATE AND WE HAVE TO FIND THE
GIRLS!' Harry did his best to emote the fact that he was desperate to leave.

"BUT HARRY...," Ron was just as eager to stay with the thrashing girl. Then a pair of
delicate arms wrapped around his waist from behind, and, if possible, Ron's face went more red.
*'Harry!'* Ron had mouthed at him, then ticked his head back, trying again to signify
the importance of staying.

"I think Harry's right, it is getting late," Luna spoke into Ron's ear.

Ron went slightly pale, "Luna?" Then he turned around, and his face split into a huge
grin, "LUNA!!" He quickly noted the tight, black outfit she was wearing, and how
completely delectable she looked in it. He also realized how utterly he had missed her, then
grabbed her and pulled her off her feet into a tight hug. He let her go and fastened his hands to
either side of her face and gave her a long and passionate welcoming kiss. The thrashing girl noted
the reunion, huffed, then proceeded to find another partner with which to share her epileptic
fit.

"LUNA, LOVE, WHEN DID YOU GET HERE?"

"Just now," Luna replied, somehow managing to make her dreamy voice heard over the
din. "C'mon Ronald, let's go." She took his arm and led them towards the
exit.

"Wait, Luna, we need to find Hermione and Ginny," Harry stopped her.

"They're at the resort Harry. I just left them." Harry threw an inquisitive look
at Ratia, who batted her eyelashes and shrugged as if she had no idea what was going on. Luna
maintained her persistence and drew them all out of the club.

Once outside, Harry took in a deep, cool breath. He hadn't realized how warm and smoky the
club had been until he felt the fresh air hit his face. He took his glasses off, rubbed at his
smoke-irritated eyes, then moved towards Luna.

"Luna, it's great to see you again," he hugged her as well, "how was the rest
of your stay in Spain?"

"Not terribly productive. Daddy and I still haven't managed to find a single Dark
Dwelling Cooquooey yet. We're thinking of trying South America next summer." Ratia gave a
derisive snort. "And Horatia Higgenbothan," Luna looked her over, "how lovely to see
you again."

"Er, yes, well um, thank you." Ratia was obviously not used to being caught off
guard.

"Oh surely you must remember," Luna was affecting a rather conceited tone in her voice
that had Ron and Harry glancing at each other in question. "That private affair for the
Wizengamot hopefuls a few years ago?"

"Oh.., oh of course, *Luna!* How lovely to see you again." She was terribly adept
at lying, but that's simply what one did when caught in these situations.

"Well boys," Luna continued, "I was just going to suggest we go get some coffee.
How about that charming hole in the wall right over there."

"Actually Luna, I was hoping to head back to the hotel. I'm a bit tired and we have an
early day tomorrow." As glad as he was to see her, Harry was quite ready to be back in his
suite and rid of Ratia.

"Oh nonsense Harry, we have ever so much to catch up on, and the night is still
young." Luna flashed a flirtatious smile, which deeply unsettled Harry, as it perfectly
mimicked the smiles that Ratia had been giving all day. "Now Ratia, I *can* call you
Ratia can't I?"

"Of course dear, that's what all my friends call me."

"Right. Well *Ratia*, do tell me how you find yourself in Paris this time of
year." She strode ahead of Ron and Harry and began walking with Ratia toward the coffee shop.
Harry deliberately walked slower with Ron so as not to be heard.

"Uh, Ron?"

"Yeah...," Ron had noticed something was definitely off as well. "I dunno mate,
but whatever she's got in mind, I guess we're along for the ride."

They walked down the narrow alley to the coffee shop, found a cozy outdoor table, and ordered
drinks and biscotti. Harry and Ron were fascinated at the amount of conversation exchanged between
the two ladies. How on earth could two people talk so much about nothing in particular?

After a while, Luna took advantage of a lull in the conversation to playfully nuzzle Ron. She
whispered in his ear, then kissed him, while Harry looked on uncomfortably. *'Will this night
ever end?'*

As they nearly finished their coffees, Luna excused herself momentarily, then returned with what
she referred to as, "simply the most exquisite little mints." Ratia, dreading the offense
of 'coffee breath', took one and thanked her. Harry was still slowly nursing his demitasse,
and politely refused.

"So Harry," Luna looked at him, "how has Hermione been lately? I didn't get a
chance to speak with her in the suite."

"Now Luna," Ratia interjected, "I'm certain Harry wouldn't want to seem
rude by talking about his little friend behind her back." Her eyes glittered dangerously.

"Well, I'm just concerned. I hear she's been quite upset as of late."

"She has?" There was no mistaking the concern in Harry's voice.

"Oh, I'm certain she'll be quite alright Harry. From what I've heard she's
quite a capable girl." Ratia was trying to squash the topic as quickly as possible.

"I suppose you're right," Luna conceded. "Still, I am somewhat
concerned." She cast a meaningful glance towards Harry.

*'Hermione's upset? I wonder what's the matter? Of course, how would I know,
I've said but two words to her since she arrived,'* Harry admonished himself. It made
him realize, yet again, that he had put off talking to her for far too long.

"You know, it's funny that you should mention that she's capable.
*Ratia,*" Luna placed a slight emphasis on her name, "did you know that
Hermione's been invited to attend Spellcrafting Academy? It's quite an honor."

"She's been invited to Spellcrafting Academy? It *is* quite an honor."
Ratia's eyes widened slightly in mild surprise.

"Yes," Luna continued, "Ronald was telling me she got the offer only a couple of
months ago. I hear it's near impossible to get into, isn't that right Ratia?"

"Yes, nearly impossible." Her face blanched. Spellcrafting Academy was an extremely
elite institution. There was no process to petition for acceptance. Only a selected few witches and
wizards worldwide were asked to join their ranks, and even then, no one ever as young as Hermione.
Normally those who had already attended wizarding universities were the ones invited - those who
had extremely advanced learning and understanding of magical theories and applications. The Academy
was dedicated to the creation of new spells and magical items - a think tank of magical
research.

"Ratia, would you like to hear how Hermione was accepted to attend? It really is
fascinating."

"I would like to hear that, it does sound fascinating." Her face, if possible, seemed
to grow even more pale. Harry and Ron both looked at her, slightly surprised that Ratia would be at
all interested in hearing about Hermione. If nothing else, she had shown a slight distaste whenever
the subject arose.

"Ronald, show Ratia your ring." Ron held out his hand to Ratia. Though she seemed to
be in a state of mild shock, she took his hand and inspected the ring. It was simple, made of
pewter with three round stones set at equal distances around the band.

Ratia looked quite uncomfortable, as if she were afraid to speak. "It's..., it's
quite lovely," she said hesitantly.

"Harry, why don't you tell her about the rings?" Luna volunteered him.

"What? Oh, um, alright then," he looked at Ratia and couldn't help but notice she
looked a little off. "Ratia, are you feeling alright?"

"I'm feeling alright, thanks." Again, a look of surprise flitted across her
face.

"Don't keep us in suspense Harry, I'd love to hear your version of this story. You
know how Ronald loves to embellish things."

"Hey!" Ron sounded slightly offended. Harry laughed.

"Okay then, um, well Ratia, you see, Ron's ring is actually one of three..."
Harry's mind drifted back to that early morning in March...

¥¥¥

"Do you have any idea what's going on mate?"

"No, only that she said to meet her here right now." Harry looked around the empty
classroom. From the look of the dust and cobwebs present, he was certain it hadn't been used in
many years, and, from the route they had to taken, he doubted that hardly anyone else in all of
Hogwarts knew it was here. But there was no doubt that Hermione had been here. She had a bubbling
cauldron of *something* set up on a clean patch of floor with one of her signature portable
fires blazing beneath it.

"Ugh, she could have picked someplace just a little bit nicer, and maybe just a bit later
in the day." Ron yawned, then made a face as he tried to clear off a patch of dust from a
chair before sitting down.

Just then Hermione came into the classroom, carrying a small box of items. "Oh good,
you're both here!"

"Of course we are, you said it was urgent." Harry replied.

"Well, it is. I mean, it might be." She set down the box on a nearby table, then
performed an advanced locking charm on the door. Harry looked at her quizzically. "Sorry,
it's rather complicated what we're doing, and I don't want us disturbed."

"Right Hermione, what exactly are we doing then?" Ron yawned again. "I could
definitely have done with a bit more rest? And why didn't you meet us in the common
room?"

"Sorry Ron, but I had to finish collecting some items this morning."

"This *morning?* How long have you been up?"

"Since about four."

"*Four?!* What on earth for?"

Hermione sighed, then looked at both of them. "Okay, it's a bit complicated, but
I've been working on something. Hopefully something that will help us when, you know..."
She didn't need to say what for, they all had pretty much come to understand that whatever was
going to happen with Voldemort was fast approaching. They also tried their best to continually
skirt the issue of Harry's prophecy.

"Alright then, what have got in mind?" Ron helped her to skip past the awkwardness.
They had managed to get pretty good at it over the last two years.

"Right. Okay then... I've been working on these potions for a few months now," she
walked over to the box and removed a series of phials. "I'm actually going to combine them
with that one," she indicated the brewing mixture on the floor, "to make a new potion,
something that's not been tried before." She caught the looks of trepidation on their
faces. "Look, I'm certain it will work! Honestly, you know me, I've done the research,
and it should work just fine." She seemed to hesitate.

Harry stepped forward, "I'm certain if you think it will work, then it will." He
then gave her a reassuring smile.

She beamed at his vote of confidence. "It will, I promise!"

"Okay, but then what do you need us for?" Ron was still a bit nervous.

"Well, what I'm doing, it's a combination of spells and potions, and as it's
for the three of us, I needed you here as well."

"But this early in the morning?"

"I also need you to be as clear headed as possible," she noted he still looked a bit
hesitant. "Look, just go sit by the cauldron and let me get my things." Ron shrugged at
Harry, then they both went to sit down.

Hermione brought the box of items over, sat down, then set up the phials. She reached into the
box and withdrew a black velvet drawstring bag, opened it, then shook the items into her hand. She
placed three small round emeralds in front of Harry, three sapphires in front of Ron and three
light brown topaz stones in front of herself. She also gave them each a pewter band.

Ron looked at the items in front of each of them. "Hermione, are... are these gems real?
Where'd you get the money for all of this?" Harry was beginning to wonder the same
thing.

"That's not the point right now. Listen, just pick them up and hold them tightly in
your hand, alright?" They looked at each other for a moment, then did as they were told.
"I'm going to cast a spell to bond the items to you, that way, in case anything should
happen, no one else can use them against us." She performed the incantation on each of them
and then herself. "Alright, now put them in the cauldron."

"But.."

"Honestly Ron, I know what I'm doing."

They each put the gems in the brew.

"Okay, now give me your hands and take each other's." She looked at them cast wary
glances. "Oh honestly, it doesn't make you *girls* if you hold each other's
hands!" She huffed and glared at them until they grasped hands. "Now, I need you to focus
as much as possible. Look around the room and concentrate on where we are. Look at the room, as if
you were planning to apparate into here. Try to make note of everything you can, then close your
eyes, and focus your concentration on where we are." She waited until they had both closed
their eyes, then closed hers as well and began murmuring a string of incantations that neither
Harry or Ron had ever heard before.

Harry wasn't sure how long they had been holding hands. He could feel the warmth growing
within the circle while Hermione continued to chant, and even though he was certain his eyes were
still shut, he could see the room in stunning clarity. Things he hadn't even realized he
noticed were now thrown into sharp relief... the broken chair resting at an odd angle against the
wall, a tattered bit of parchment coated in dust on one of the tables, an extremely old copy of
'History of Magic' resting in the bookcase...

"OW!!"

"HEY!!"

They hadn't realized that Hermione had broken the circle until she used a small dagger to
slice both of their palms. Ron looked at her in shock.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL'D YOU DO THAT FOR!?"

"Sorry, I didn't think you two could concentrate if you knew what I had to do
next." She also cut herself across the palm while both boys looked on in distaste. She grabbed
a small crucible from the floor, then pressed her open hand firmly against it to collect her blood.
She then reached for Ron's hand, and he instinctively drew it back, still nursing his
wound.

"No way, you've gone nutters!"

"C'mon Ron, that was the worst of it." She reached for him again while he looked
at her with great caution. Then he slowly offered up his hand, and she swiped it against the
crucible.

"Harry?" He looked a bit shocked as well, but willingly gave his hand over to
Hermione. She repeated the maneuver, then set the crucible down. She took Harry's hand again
and performed a healing charm that neatly sealed the wound she'd inflicted. She also healed
Ron, then turned her attention back to the small white porcelain cup.

*"Sanguis Adunare!"*

She swirled her wand above the crucible, and it glowed a brilliant gold color, then slowly
dimmed. She uncapped each of the phials and added them slowly to the large potion. One by one they
briefly changed the color of the overall brew, and then it came time to add the final
ingredient.

"Alright then, let's see if this works properly," she gave a nervous grin to both
of them, then poured the blood, their collective blood, into the mixture. She then took her wand
and stirred the potion counterclockwise three times. She withdrew her wand, now dripping with a
deep blue viscous liquid, swiped it across her still bloody palm, then made a stabbing motion
towards the cauldron.

*"Trigare Agamus!"*

There was a brilliant, yet soundless, explosion that nearly blinded them. They were all thrown
back a few feet as the power of the spell repelled them. They each lay sprawled across the dusty
floor.

Ron slowly lifted himself up into a sitting position, and had to blink several times to clear
the spots from his vision. He rubbed the back of his head, then crawled to the cauldron, now dark
and the fire extinguished. He peered in to find the nine gemstones resting at the bottom. There was
no trace of the potion whatsoever.

"Hermione, was that supposed to happen?" He voice was thick with exhaustion. He
blinked a few more times, his vision still proving problematic at a distance.

"Hermione?" Harry was slowly making his way to the cauldron, when he noted that she
didn't answer. He crawled over to her and saw that she was completely unconscious, her hand
bleeding profusely and leaving a shallow puddle that rested above the dust laden floor. A faint
buzzing sounded in his head as he felt the beginnings of panic. He took her hand and quickly
performed the same healing charm that she had used on him. Her hand continued to bleed freely, the
spell having no effect.

Harry grasped her arms and shook her gently, "Hermione, wake up!" No response and he
really began to panic. Ron had made his way over as well, and both boys began screaming at her.

"HERMIONE!"

"C'MON HERMIONE, WAKE UP!"

Ron had taken to shaking her arm and Harry had cradled her into an upright position. They
screamed at her again, and she squinted her face into a grimace, then opened her eyes.

"Did it work?" Her voice was barely a whisper.

A wave of relief washed over Ron and Harry as she tried to sit up. Ron continued to look her
over, trying to make certain she was alright. Harry had removed his school tie and was fastening it
tightly around Hermione's palm.

"I tried a healing charm, but it didn't work." He explained.

"No... no, it wouldn't. It'll have to heal on it's own." He looked
puzzled. "It's part of the spell Harry, I'm sure your healing charms are just
fine." She gave a joking smile, and he smiled back, thankful that she was alright.

"So, did it work?"

"Um, I don't know. Those gems are just sitting in the bottom of the cauldron now.
It's like there was never a potion in there at all." Ron explained.

A huge grin spread across Hermione's weary face. "Excellent! That's just as it
should be!" She was nearly giddy as she made her way to the cauldron and scooped out the gems.
She sat back on her knees and placed the bands in front of her, then gingerly set one of each stone
around the three of them. Then she took a deep breath, drew her wand, and transfigured each of the
collections of stones into the three pewter rings. She leaned to the side, obviously drained, and
wore a lopsided grin of achievement.

Harry and Ron were completely baffled. They each looked at each other, then at Hermione and then
at the rings. They looked at each other again, as if trying to decide which one of them should be
the first to ask.

"Um, Hermione?" Ron decided he was the braver today, "not to sound at all
ungrateful, but, well, um, this was all for some bits of *jewelry?"*

Hermione cast him a scathing look, and Harry was glad that it wasn't him that had asked.
However, it quickly passed, as she was obviously so pleased at having done whatever it was she had
intended. She even managed to laugh.

"Yes Ron, it was all for that bit of jewelry there." She had that bright and beautiful
smile that they so rarely saw. She leaned forward and picked one up, then put it on her left ring
finger. She winced a bit and Harry noticed that her palm had bled clean through the two layers of
his tie. However, it didn't diminish her excitement in the least.

"Go on then, put them on. Left hand, doesn't matter which finger. It'll fit
wherever you put it."

"Why the left hand?" Ron asked.

"Because we're all right handed of course," she said, as if it were the most
obvious thing in the world.

Harry picked one up, and looked at it closely. The pewter ring now had one of each stone set
equidistant around the band. He placed it onto his middle finger, and sure enough, it fit
perfectly. Just for an instant he felt disappointed. He had expected it to do something spectacular
when he put it on. But, as Ron had said, it just looked like a bit of jewelry. He glanced over at
Ron and noted he had a similar expression. Then he looked at Hermione, and his breath caught.

Despite the draining effect of whatever it was she had done, she looked magnificent. Certainly
her hair was more disheveled than usual, and her blood loss had made her somewhat pale, but the
expression she wore, the absolute joy of having accomplished something so terribly significant,
made her look absolutely beautiful, almost ethereal.

*'I never realized,'* he thought, *'she's.. she's so
beautiful.'* And he thought briefly of the first time that thought had crossed his mind
almost three years ago. But, for all the work she had put into her appearance then, he thought it
simply didn't compare to the sheer radiance that was emanating from her now.

When he became aware of the fact that he had been staring at her for far too long, he had enough
sense to look away quickly and blush. Luckily Hermione was still in too much of a daze to realize
what he'd done.

"Harry?"

He tensed, suddenly afraid that she'd noticed. She was always so good at reading him.

"Er, yeah?"

"Would you mind helping me up?"

"What, oh, yeah, of course." Thankful for the reprieve, he got to his feet, then
slowly helped her to stand. She swayed slightly, dizzy from the blood loss, and Harry quickly
steadied her.

"Thanks," she smiled up at him, and Harry felt a heated blush consume him.

"So," Ron began, and Harry was again thankful for the distraction, "what do they
do then?" He was closely inspecting his ring, twisting it around his finger.

"Well, as much as I'd love to tell you, I think a practical demonstration would be much
more exciting." She still had that infectious grin. "We're due to go to Hogsmeade in
a few hours. I'll meet you both in the common room and explain along the way. Trust me,
it'll be well worth it." She tried to walk toward the door and stumbled a little before
Harry caught her.

"Hermione, are you all right?" Harry's voice was filled with worry.

"Yeah, you're not looking so great." Ron was equally worried.

She looked at the concerned faces of her two best friends. "Really, I'm fine. Just a
bit tired is all. I have been up for quite awhile, and that spell was terribly draining. I just
need to rest for a bit."

"But what about your hand," Harry asked.

"It will heal on it's own. I just need to keep it dressed for a few days and," she
looked down at her hand, "oh Harry, I'm so sorry... your tie!"

"Don't worry about it. Are you sure you're alright?"

"Really, the both of you, I'm fine! Just tired is all. If you wouldn't mind helping
me back to the tower I'll be perfect after a couple hours of sleep."

"What about all your things here?" Ron asked.

"Oh please, no one's used this classroom in ages. I could probably leave these things
here for twenty years and they'd be nothing but dusty. I'll collect them later. Let's
go then." She smiled, and Harry & Ron helped an extremely tired Hermione back to
Gryffindor Tower.

-

Four hours later and all the Gryffindors, third year and up, were gathering in the common room
to head out to Hogsmeade. Ron and Harry had taken Hermione's suggestion and napped as well.
Unfortunately that meant skipping breakfast, and now they were completely famished.

"I wish she'd hurry up. I'm in desperate need of some food. First thing, I'm
going straight to Honeydukes and grabbing a whole armload of sweets, and then we can grab lunch at
the Three Broomsticks..."

"Ron, that sounds like an excellent idea."

Hermione had come up behind the two of them and threw her arms around their shoulders. She
looked completely refreshed and was still beaming with that brilliant and infectious grin. Harry
felt a sudden heat rise up in his face as her hair brushed against his cheek.

"In fact," she said, "I'll even treat. And then I can tell you all about our
fabulous little trinkets!" She withdrew her arm from Ron and held her left hand out, showing
off her ring. Unconsciously Harry let his arm drape around her waist, and then she turned and
looked at him. For just an instant he stopped and looked at her as if seeing her for the first
time. And he noticed that the smile on her face faltered, as if she had been surprised to see him
looking at her like that. Then just as quickly it passed, and she grinned again and threw her arms
around Harry.

"Oh this is going to be so brilliant!" Her voice was excited and giddy, and Harry
didn't realize how good it felt to hug her until she let go. "Let's go get some lunch
then! I'm absolutely ravenous." She placed both hands against their backs and playfully
pushed them out the portrait hole.

After they had managed to secure a table in a somewhat secluded corner of the Three Broomsticks
and order lunch, Hermione began telling them about the rings. While they were eating, she explained
what function they would serve and how she had devised the combination of spells and potions to
create them. When they were finished with lunch, and Hermione had finished her story, both boys
looked at her completely dumbfounded.

"Hermione, you've got to be joking! There's no way... I mean, is there?"

"Look Ron, just think of it as a really complex version of the *'Point Me'*
spell I taught Harry a few years ago."

"You mean that one that points your wand north."

"Exactly, except these," she flashed her ring, "point the way to each
other."

"But Hermione," Harry had been trying to sort out what she'd just told them,
"how does that work? I mean, even if they worked the way you explained, don't we stand a
really good chance of splinching ourselves all over the place?"

"I was worried about that too, but that's why I had us do that concentration bit while
in the circle. Didn't you notice, when your eyes were closed, how clearly you could still see
the room."

"Yeah actually, I thought that was pretty strange."

"Well, that and then the blood," Ron squinched up his face when she mentioned that
part, "it basically focused your mind's eye, and then it became part of the potion, then
part of the rings."

"Okay, let me see if I've got you right. Each stone is one of us?"

"Yes, emerald for Harry, sapphire for you and topaz for me."

"Eye colors?" Harry asked.

"Exactly." Hermione replied.

"Okay, so say I want to find Harry. I would turn my ring to find the emerald..."

"And then you would say *'Show Me',* and I'll show you the wand movement
for that. Then you touch your wand to the appropriate gemstone, and then concentrate. You'll be
able to get flashes of where Harry is. You'd be able to see his immediate surroundings until
you found a safe point in which to apparate into."

"And then *'crack'?*" Ron snapped his fingers.

She snapped her fingers as well. "Exactly."

"Well wait a minute. If this ring's mine, then why does it have a stone for me set in
it? Shouldn't it just have two for the both of you?"

"Well no actually. You see, the gems absorbed bits of us, from the bonding spell I used,
and then that potion. So whenever you use the ring to find one of us, it transfers those flashes it
gets into your stone, which then translates to you so you can see where we are. Not only that, but,
if for some reason we'd need to, we could swap rings."

"Oh," Harry realized, "that's why they wouldn't work for anyone else.
Because the three stones are only meant for the three of us!"

"Exactly Harry!" Hermione seemed rather proud that he had figured this out. "If
someone tried using one they wouldn't be able to 'see' the images from us because
there'd be no personal gemstone to translate the information. It's like our own personal
code keys - very James Bond!"

"I suppose that makes you Q?" He grinned at her.

"Isn't he that fellow in Ravenclaw?" Ron asked.

Harry and Hermione looked at each other, then laughed at their own private muggle joke. Ron just
shrugged at them, then started inspecting his ring again.

"C'mon then, I want to try these out! Show me how to do that incantation!" Ron was
suddenly quite excited.

Hermione took a moment to teach them the correct flourish of the wand, then had them practice.
The effect was greatly diminished as they were all in the same place.

"Okay then, here's what we're going to do. Each of us will go our separate ways out
the door. We'll have a five minute lead, and then I'll test it first, just to make sure it
works properly." They looked at her in surprise. "Oh, I'm sure they'll work just
as I've said, I just want to double check is all. If something's off, I'll know for
certain, as I'm the one that threw them together. I'll find you first Harry, and then you
Ron. And then we can really have fun with them."

"Are you certain?" Harry looked at her with earnest.

"It'll be fine. I promise. I just want to do the first run is all, just to be
sure." She squeezed his hand. "Not to worry!" And then she smiled and got up from
the table. "Five minutes then, fast as you can!" And then she practically ran out the
door.

Harry and Ron both looked at each other, then grinned like maniacs. They raced each other out
the door of the Three Broomsticks and sped off in separate directions.

Four and half minutes later and Harry was in an empty alleyway behind Scrivenshafts. He figured
that if there were the remote possibility that Hermione might have trouble, he didn't want to
be anywhere crowded with people or furniture. *'She's a lot less likely to splinch
herself out in the open like this,'* he reasoned. And then he noticed the slightest glimmer
in the topaz on his ring, and then... *CRACK!*

"It worked... it actually WORKED!" An excited Hermione started jumping up and down,
then literally flew straight into his arms. He caught her and then they did a half spin while she
giggled with delight. He didn't think he had ever heard her giggle before, and then he began to
really feel and appreciate the weight of her in his arms. He hugged her tighter and she laughed,
and he closed his eyes and smiled.

They stood like that for a bit longer. Hermione brought her head down from Harry's shoulder,
which she had needed to stand on tiptoe for, and laid her cheek against his chest. He was surprised
at how easily she seemed to nestle against him, and he could swear he felt her sigh. He didn't
know why, but it caused his stomach to flutter softly.

"Ron," she said softly.

"Hmm," Harry wasn't really paying attention to what she said, he just noticed how
soft and sweet her voice sounded.

"I, um," she pulled back from him, a redness rising in her cheeks, "I should go
find Ron now." She gave him a wistful smile that Harry didn't quite understand.

"Oh, um, right... right. You should go find him," Harry was slowly regaining his
senses. "That was brilliant Hermione!" He smiled and congratulated her.

"Thanks," she smiled back, a happy smile this time. "Be right back then!"
She twisted her ring, spoke the incantation, then *CRACK!* And she was gone.

Harry let out a deep sigh, then rested against the alley wall. He wasn't sure what was going
on with him, but the fluttering of his stomach was slowly subsiding. He wondered why, just for a
moment, Hermione had given him that almost sad smile. And then he thought about holding her again,
and his stomach fluttered and he began to blush.

*'What on earth's the matter with me?'* He leaned his head back and closed his
eyes. *'Why did she look sad there, just for a moment? I'll bet she thought I hadn't
even noticed. Did I do something wrong?'* He replayed the last few minutes in his head. Then
he thought about how comfortable it felt to hold her, how good it felt to be held, and a tiny smile
appeared on his face.

*CRACK!*

*CRACK!*

He opened his eyes and leaned forward. He looked at his two best friends, laughing like a couple
of small children. They looked at him, and he couldn't help it, he burst out laughing as
well.

"Oh mate, that was brilliant! Have you tried it yet?"

"No, not yet."

"C'mon Ron," she grabbed his hand and began pulling him away, "let's play
Hide 'n Go Seek with Harry!" She had that beautiful smile again as she looked at Harry.
"Give us a count of 20 and NO PEEKING!" She laughed again and then they were gone.

Harry had once had a chance to play this when he was very young. It was near the time he first
went to school, before Dudley managed to chase off any friends he might have. A small group of
children also starting school for the first time invited him to play. They'd laugh and run all
over the grounds, hiding behind playground equipment and squeeing wildly while trying to make it
'home' to safety.

That rare happy childhood memory ran through his head, and he couldn't help but be inspired.
He even covered his eyes and started counting loudly, "1... 2... 3..." Off in the
distance Hermione heard him and gave an excited shriek of laughter, which caused Harry to count
even faster. By the time he reached twenty he was nearly as giddy as she was. He twisted his ring
to the topaz, and performed the wand movement perfectly.

*"Show Me!"* He closed his eyes and sure enough, he could see flashes of things
from Hermione's perspective. In quick succession he saw the alleyway he was in, then a quick
turn towards Honeydukes, through the door, into the shop, another door inside there, a room...
mirrors on the wall... the empty corner of the room... AN EMPTY CORNER! *CRACK!*

Hermione gave an excited shout, then laughed. Harry smiled at her, surprised at how happy and
childlike she was acting. He'd never seen her have this much fun before. Then he realized where
they were.

"Hermione, is this the girl's lavatory?!" He paled slightly.

There was a shriek as a fourth year Hufflepuff entered the lavatory and spotted Harry, then
quickly turned and left.

Hermione laughed again, "now go find Ron... then the next game!"

"Next game?"

"Yeah," she stood in front of him, then lightly jabbed him with her wand, "TAG!
YOU'RE IT!!" Then she disapparated.

Harry would have laughed, had he not been so horrified with his surroundings. He twisted his
ring again to the sapphire this time. *"Show Me!"* Quick flashes through his mind,
until... CRACK! He was standing outside Madam Puddifoot's .

"Wicked, 'eh mate?!"

"Absolutely! Oh, and Ron, I have a message from Hermione."

"What's that?"

"TAG! YOU'RE IT!"

They spent the rest of their afternoon like that, popping all over Hogsmeade testing out their
rings. By the time they returned to the common room that evening they were all exhausted. Thrilled,
but exhausted just the same. They grabbed some cushions from the sofa and sprawled out directly in
front of the fire.

"Hermione, these are absolutely brilliant!"

"Why thank you Harry."

"I agree, you've outdone yourself. I bet there'd be a huge market for these with
Fred & George."

"Um, no Ron, I couldn't. It was really quite a difficult process. I don't think it
could be done *en masse."*

"Shame though, I bet it'd be worth a mint."

"Maybe the Aurors could make them?"

"That's an excellent idea Harry."

"I just thought of something though? Will these work if we're not wearing
them?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, if Harry took off his ring, and I try to find him with mine, would I still be able
to 'see' him?"

"There's a chance, but I doubt it. It'd be fairly difficult. That's why
it's important that we wear these from now on, just in case. Even if we can't apparate in
Hogwarts, at least we'd be able to find each other. Not that we don't have the map for
that, but you never know what will happen. I just don't want us to get separated, you know...
when the time comes."

They were all silent, each lost in their own thoughts. They remained there in comfortable
silence until Hermione yawned and bid them all goodnight. They watched her go, then went to bed
themselves, exhausted with all the apparation they'd done.

Ron fell promptly asleep while Harry lay in his bed going over the events of the day. He kept
twisting the ring on his hand, amazed at how truly brilliant Hermione was. He once again found
himself thankful that he'd managed to have such an amazing friend. She was easily the smartest
person he knew, well, the smartest person his age. Although, the more he thought about it, the more
he realized she was much smarter than quite a few adults he knew as well.

Thinking about her brought those annoying flip flops back. He didn't know why that kept
happening these days, or why he kept noticing things like her eyes or the sound of her voice.

*'I wonder what she's doing right now? Probably sleeping.'*

As the thought crossed his mind, he looked at the ring again. He knew full well no one could
apparate within Hogwarts. Hermione had told him that a hundred times. But, he wondered, would he
still be able to *'see'* her? She had said they could function that way within
Hogwarts, but what if she was asleep?

That caused a whole new train of thought to run through his head. What if one of them were
knocked unconscious? Would the rings function then? How would he get to her or Ron it they were out
cold? He reached out to his night stand and found his wand, then looked for the topaz glimmer in
the moonlight.

*"Show Me,"* he said in a low voice, not wanting to disturb his sleeping
roommates, then he closed his eyes in concentration. He could see nothing but blackness, so he
tried again, and concentrated harder. Slowly, he began seeing flashes of her room... the dressers
and night stands... the group of beds... her bed... her pillow... and then it went dim.

*'It must show the last thing you saw before you go unconscious,'* he thought. But
then he started catching glimpses of something else... small flashes of light... a brick wall...
*'What on earth is that?'* He concentrated harder, then saw the images more clearly,
he spun slowly and saw that it was a brick wall, with a faint word he couldn't quite make out.
Something written in large loopy letters. Then he felt incredibly warm, as if someone were holding
him tightly. It made him blush and he could feel his pulse begin to quicken. Then his cheek was
resting against someone's chest, and he could hear their heartbeat as well, while his was now
hammering in his chest. Those damn butterflies were going spare in his stomach, but he didn't
want to let go. He felt safe. He felt content. Then he was sad, because he knew he had to let go.
Then he heard a murmured voice, then another, and then he slowly stepped back. He could see the
wall now, and the word.. it was *'Scrivenshafts',* and then his head turned and he saw
himself standing there...

He sat bolt upright in bed, a sudden uneasiness overtaking him as he realized what he'd
done.

*'Did... did I just* leglimens *Hermione? I... I think I did? How did I do that?
I've not been able to do that to anyone at a distance, except for Voldemort...,'* then
he looked at the ring, and he understood. *'She'll kill me,'* he thought.
*'But it's not like I meant to do it.'* However, the more he thought about it, the
more he realized that this was something different. He had seen things before when practicing his
leglimency, and that was just it, he had *seen*. But this, whatever it was he had done, he not
only saw, but he felt - all from her point of view.

In the interest of self preservation, he vowed two things - he'd never mention it to anyone
and he'd never do it again. The last thing he wanted to do was violate anyone's privacy,
*especially* Hermione's, *especially* after everything she'd just done. And with
that in mind, he tried to go to sleep.

But then he thought about how she felt when he had hugged her. And he didn't know why, but
he has relieved to know that whatever was causing his face to redden and stomach to flip-flop
wasn't just happening to him. It was happening to her as well.

She felt the same way too.

And then he fell asleep.

***

Harry had managed to tell the extremely truncated and edited version of these events to the
present company. He then told them how, after he had mentioned the rings to Mad Eye Moody, he had
mentioned it to his superiors, and, as word spread, Hermione eventually received the invitation to
Spellcrafting Academy and a commendation from the Ministry of Magic.

"Yes, well, it really is amazing how brilliant Hermione is," Luna said,
"wouldn't you agree Ratia?"

"Yes, Hermione sounds amazingly brilliant." Ratia replied. Harry was lost in thought
and didn't notice the look of abject horror on her face, as if she couldn't believe what
she had just said.

"In fact, I think you should count yourself extremely fortunate to have such a friend
Harry." Luna focused her large eyes on him. "Just consider where you'd be without
her."

Harry saw her looking at him intensely, as if willing him to seriously consider what his life
would be like without Hermione. He thought about everything he'd done, or more importantly,
*hadn't* done, since the last time he'd seen her. He should have been thanking her,
praising her for saving him over and over again. But, he just couldn't get past that final
scene, his final confrontation with Voldemort, and the condition she'd found him in.

He considered this, then realized that nothing was more important than maintaining his
friendship with this incredible person who'd been a part of him for seven years. Who'd
sacrificed herself time and again to help him. True, there was some awkwardness between them, but
they could move past that. He'd been an absolute prat for avoiding her all this time. What had
he been thinking?

"You know, she and Ginny were going to be up for awhile when I left the suite. They're
probably still talking right now, you know, catching up on things." Luna gave him her dreamy
smile, and Harry smiled back.

"Ratia," Luna asked, "would you mind staying here with us while Harry returns to
the hotel?"

"I'd love to stay here with you while Harry returns to the hotel." Ratia looked
completely mollified.

"Thanks." He stood up quickly, anxious to finally have the talk he'd been dreading
for two months. He pulled some francs from his wallet and gave them to Ron. "Thanks
Luna." He grinned at her, then left the coffee shop.

"Ratia, you're not looking so good dear. Perhaps you should excuse yourself."

"I should really excuse myself," Ratia looked eager to run from the table and straight
to the ladies room.

Ron turned to Luna, noting that instead of her normally dreamy smile, she was sporting a
mischievous grin.

"Luna, love, what did you do?"

She batted her long eyelashes at him, "why Ronald, I have no idea what you mean?"

Ron smirked at her. "You know, I didn't care for her either. In fact, I'm rather
impressed with the way you handled the entire situation.

She blushed slightly, "it's so nice when you compliment me. Thank you."

He threw his arm around her and nuzzled her neck. "Luna my love, what did you do?"

She gave a contented sigh, then pulled something from her purse and handed it to him.

He looked at it curiously, a pink wrapper that he had to unfurl on the table. When he read the
label, he began to laugh out loud.

"You gave her this?"

"Well, they do wear off after an hour or so. Besides, there were too many muggles around
for the Canary Cream."

Ron picked up the wrapper. *'Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes is proud to present the
Paraphrasing Pillowmint. Ever wish you could put words into someone's mouth? Give these to your
friends and enemies and they'll agree with everything you say. Simply state the name of the
person each time you want them to paraphrase you, and suddenly you'll have your very own
'Yes Man'. Effects guaranteed for at least one hour.'*

"So, may I ask why?"

"Ronald, please, she's a wretched girl. Besides, I know what she's like. She'd
be too embarrassed to admit that she was doing anything out of the ordinary. I knew she'd just
play along."

"Really, and how did you know that?"

"I've met her before."

"Oh really, you weren't making that bit up then?"

"Well, it was a long time ago. I didn't like her then, and after seeing her with Harry,
I knew I still didn't like her."

"Luna, I'm surprised. I didn't know you could be so catty."

"I am not... I simply didn't want her around my friends."

"Hmmm, jealous?"

"Hardly." Luna looked offended.

Ratia returned to the table still looking quite pale. "If you'll excuse me, I think
I'd best turn in. I'm really not feeling too well." She gave a wan smile.

"Ratia, you're right. In fact, I think you're looking a bit fat as well."

"You know, I am a bit fat really." Her eyes grew wide in disbelief.

"Something of a cow then?" Luna smiled.

Ratia was smart enough to leave quickly, and hopefully, Luna thought, smart enough to stay away
from her and her friends.

"Come on then Ronald." She stood and took his hand. "Let me show you how romantic
Paris is at night."

He happily followed her out of the coffee shop and down the narrow alleyway out into the city.
She nuzzled him as he held her close. As they walked along she began to talk.

"Ronald?"

"Yes love?"

"Did I ever tell about my nickname?"

"You mean 'Loony'?"

She gave a sad sigh. "Yes."

"No, not really."

"Well, when I was younger, I went to this party with my father, and there was a large group
of children there, and one of them was this wretched girl..."

***************



7. Into a Darkened Room
-----------------------

***************

**Into a Darkened Room**

To say Hermione was drunk would be a phenomenal understatement. A more appropriate choice might
be *'just this side of functional'.* Yet, for the large quantities of alcohol she had
consumed, and given that, in fact, it was the *most* alcohol she had *ever* consumed,
Hermione was still quite coherent. She knew enough not to even attempt apparating, lest she end up
with bits of herself strewn about famous Parisian landmarks.

She tucked her wand up the sleeve of her less than modest outfit and strolled from the hotel.
Anyone who knew her would know, not just from the outfit, that something was definitely amiss. Her
normal demeanor - thoughtful, contemplative, rational - had been completely usurped by *this*
Hermione. Simply the way she walked spoke volumes about her current state of mind.

As her self esteem had ebbed away over the last few weeks she had done her best to hide it,
especially now that she was among her friends. However, her body language betrayed her - simply the
way she moved had become more timid. She no longer held her head up with her chin pointed outward
when she walked, instead opting for a slightly lowered head with her shoulders gently sloped
forward. Yet now, emboldened by vast quantities of liquor, she practically strutted down the
streets of Paris.

She wasn't so inebriated that she failed to notice the jaw dropping and often predatory
looks of the men she passed. It was something she had never experienced before. Certainly she had
read before about the power of feminine persuasion, and the closest she had ever been to that had
been when she realized that first Viktor, then Ron had liked her. Though she didn't care for
Ron as anything more than a friend, just the mere idea that someone had considered her in
*that* way, had made her slightly dizzy.

But *this*, the openly wanton gazing, the sometimes lewd suggestions and gestures from men
as she passed, this wasn't just exciting - it was utterly intoxicating. For the first time in
months, or maybe even *ever*, Hermione felt powerful. Not the same kind of power that came
with being a skilled and formidable witch. No, this was power of a carnal nature, and although she
had known the all consuming power of being in love, she had never before felt the thrilling power
of lust. These men desired her, wanted her, and for her bruised and battered ego, it was exactly
what she thought she needed.

She smiled and laughed flirtatiously while strolling to her destination - *La Salle
Sombre.* She wondered briefly if the large and intimidating bouncer, the one who had been so
rude and condescending, would recognize her. She imagined actually turning him into a *petite
chouchou* and giggled. How intimidating could a head of cabbage possibly be?

She turned the corner into the narrow alleyway and approached the club. Sure enough, the nasty
bouncer was still guarding the entrance from a long line of impatient college aged people. Hermione
looked them over, then noticed the bouncer eyeing her appreciatively. That thrill of power went
through her in a rush as she she smirked back, then approached him.

*"Que c'est que vous voulez ma petite chouchou?"* He practically leered as
she came closer. She stood within inches of him then answered him in perfectly accented French.

"Why, I want to get in of course," she placed her palm on his chest, then lazily let
it drift down his front, almost grazing the top of his waistband. *'Oh, I could get used to
this,'* she thought, as she noticed the look of shock on his face.

"You'll, um, have to get in line my pretty little one," he said, his voice lacking
the belligerence from earlier.

"Oh no, I want to come in *now*," she pouted, thoroughly enjoying the role she
was playing.

"Well," he lightly gripped her chin and pulled her head closer, "why don't
you show me why you deserve special treatment?" He flashed that leering grin at her again.

"If you insist," she smiled back at him, then waved her right arm and whispered
something he couldn't quite make out.

As the brutish man leaned in towards her, he fell in a great heap, unable to pull his legs
apart. She laughed, stepped over him and then opened the rope for everyone else.

At the head of the huge influx of patrons, she headed straight for the bar and ordered another
drink, desperate to keep the powerful buzzing in her head. Almost immediately a handsome young man,
maybe only a year or two older than her, sat down and offered to buy her one.

"Oh, thanks. I've actually just ordered something." She turned her body towards
him, then smiled.

"Well, please, let me get that for you." He smiled back and payed the bartender when
he set down her vodka tonic.

"I'm Jeremy by the way." He held out his hand and she shook it.

"I'm Hermione," she said, then smiled again.

"So you're British," he began, having noticed her accent. "I'm actually
visiting from Canada myself."

"Really?" She batted her eyelashes and appreciated the effect it had on him.
*'Oh yes,'* she thought, *'this is* real *power. What is magic compared
to* this*?'*

They talked for several minutes as best they could in the loud club. They spoke of nothing in
particular, but Hermione was having the most fun with her new found abilities. At different moments
she would shift her body ever so slightly towards him, or flash a bit more thigh while crossing her
legs. What rational part was left of her was treating this like any other practical experiment.
She'd introduce a new variable (a bit more midriff) then gauge the reaction (wider eyes).

But as they talked, the conversation caused a nasty little mood swing, and as she went on a
small tirade about 'friends' and what they were good for, she hadn't realized that she
was gesticulating to emphasize her points. Unfortunately, she was using her right arm mostly - the
one that she'd stuffed her wand into. Whenever she happened to mention some 'unnamed
supposed best friend,' an unfortunate bottle or glass within her line of fire would
mysteriously exploded. That was enough to scare off Jeremy and put Hermione into a seriously foul,
seriously belligerent, mood.

She stalked off towards the dance floor, her caustic thoughts slowly turning into ones of self
pity. Her thoughts drifted back to Harry as they often did - how wonderful it had been to be his
friend, the warmth and laughter they had shared, and how desperately in love she was... she felt
herself sink quickly into despair.

*'What did I do,'* she thought, as she stood, lost, on the edge of the dance floor,
*'I'm... I'm sorry I told you. I didn't realize you'd hate me for it. But I
love you! I truly do! And, now,'* she felt tears threatening to fall down her cheeks,
*'now I've lost you for good.'* A powerful wave of sadness hit her, and she swayed
under it's immensity.

A tall and imposing fellow behind her mistook her movement as a desire to dance, and gently
lured her out onto the floor. She followed, listless, as he took her hands and pulled her forward.
He began to move in time to the music, and when Hermione stood still, succumbing to her agonies, he
seductively placed his hands at her waist and moved her to the melancholy beat. Despite her
sadness, she looked up at him and saw that he had deep green eyes, just like Harry. His hair was
different, a sandy brown, but he was terribly handsome. No matter how distraught she was, she
noticed this immediately. He gave a small grin and pulled her closer to him, causing a small shiver
to go up her spine.

"Dance with me," he said, in the softest hint of a foreign accent, then pressed her
tightly against him as he moved. She could feel the bass pulsating through her as she followed his
lead. He pulled her towards one of the elevated dance platforms, shrouded in smoke from the fog
machines, illuminated by the lights pulsing throughout the club. The music was loud, the faces
absolutely anonymous, and this strange man holding her made her feel like a different person.

She pulled back from him slightly as she let the music overtake her. The anonymity gave her a
different freedom altogether. She pushed it all away - the pain, the regret, any thoughts of Harry.
In this moment, she simply wanted to *forget* - to be someone else completely. Just some
random girl dancing away at a club, getting admired by strange men, feeling no responsibility or
regret. The music washed over her, and the song seemed tailor made to her mood as she lost herself
in it. She would move closer, then pull away from the stranger, realizing full well the danger she
was initiating.

*'You can't do this,'* that irritating voice cut through the fuzziness in her
head.

*'Why not?'* She countered.

*'Because it isn't you. This isn't how you cope with things.'*

*'I don't want to be me anymore. Whatever I was, it was lost when I left school - when
I lost Harry. I don't want to be that person anymore.'*

*'That doesn't mean you have to be this person.'*

She moved closer to him, and he gripped her tightly. He let his hands roam freely over her body,
and when he gave her bottom a gentle squeeze, she didn't pull away. In fact, an electric shock
ran through her, and she looked up at him with heavy lidded eyes, then closed them as she
rhythmically pressed against him.

*'You are definitely NOT this person!'* Her conscience was screaming at her.
*'You need to get the hell out of here and consume an extremely large caffeinated beverage -
NOW!'*

*'Leave me alone! Just look at him. He wants me. Someone actually wants me. And it feels
good. I just want to feel good again.'*

*'You don't even know him! And what about Harry? Did you think of that? What would
Harry think of you if he knew what you were doing?'*

And that thought gave her sudden pause. What she felt for Harry - she knew it was love. It had
to be - the sheer enormity and all consuming nature of it. Just thinking about him made her heart
swell and nearly made her burst into tears.

But, and just for a moment she gave into her rationality, his actions, everything he had and
hadn't done since her declaration of true love, could only lead to one obvious fact. He
didn't love her back. And what was worse, he obviously didn't even want to be her friend
anymore.

*'Well of course not - I'm of no service to him anymore.'* Her thoughts were
cold and hard.

*'But acting like some sort of slag is not going to make you feel better! And what if
there's some sort of explanation? What if all's not as you think with Harry?'*

*'NO! Don't you even dare to give me hope - not now! I don't want to think about
this anymore! Just let me alone!'*

*'But you don't even know this man!'*

*'Precisely,'* she realized. And then she had the courage to do something she had
never done before. She started kissing him - this stranger, this terribly handsome stranger! A part
of her realized she was trying to kill whatever feelings she had for Harry - and this was the most
effective way to do it. There was no shyness, no hesitancy, just desire - the desire to forget and
be able to give in to her baser needs. The alcohol had completely stripped her of, or rather,
allowed her to divest, inhibition and reason.

He kissed her back, roughly. She bit his lower lip and he gripped her bottom, hard, to pull her
up closer. With a growl he muzzled her neck, then asked in a husky voice, "do you want to get
out of here?"

*'Don't you DARE!'*

And when that thrill of desire, that spark of lust, went through her, she squashed down the last
of her reason. The defiance of her former self, the thought that she could kill the pain and the
hurt - finally - made her willingly follow this stranger out through the back exit of the club
without pausing to think of the consequences.

***

Harry rushed from the coffee shop to find a secluded spot from which to apparate. He only hoped
when he got back to the hotel that Hermione would still be awake. *'I'll just have to
wake her up if she isn't,'* he thought. He had waited for much too long to talk with
her, and, he remembered that Luna had mentioned she'd been upset about something. *'And I
haven't been there at all for her,'* he chastised himself, then found a darkened corner
near the back of the alley.

With a loud 'pop' he appeared in the lobby of the hotel at the apparation spot
designated for guests. The resort frowned on direct room apparation, fearful of litigation should
any guests find themselves splinched within the furniture, or worse yet, each other. The rooms were
warded to prevent any guests from disobeying this policy. A large area of the lobby was charmed to
protect both those coming and going by magic to prevent just such an accident.

Harry walked rather briskly to the lifts, his rapid footsteps echoing throughout the mostly
empty lobby. He punched at the button and waited impatiently for a car to arrive. After seemingly
long moments the doors gave a soft chime and slid open. He practically leapt in and stabbed at the
button for their floor.

As he considered what he should say, he nervously rocked back and forth on his heels. Certainly
Hermione would understand why it had taken him so long to talk to her. If not, he'd simply
explain himself until she did. With that positive attitude he exited the lift and went to their
suite.

When he entered, the first thing he noticed was the furniture. It had been transfigured to
closely resemble the couches and armchairs to which they were all accustomed. He smiled and shut
the door firmly behind him.

"Mmmm....."

"Hello?" He responded to the murmur. There was another groan and Harry cautiously
began moving about the living area, wand drawn.

"Is someone there?" Another groan, and then a familiar voice.

"Who's that? Oh, who cares, just come and help me!" Her voice was slightly
muffled.

"Ginny, is that you?" Harry looked around quickly. "Where are you?"

"I'm by the couch. Help me already!" She screamed at him.

Harry walked around the furniture arrangement until he found her, nearly face down on the floor,
her head half smushed into a pillow. He grabbed her shoulder and gently rolled her over.

"Ginny? What on earth?"

"Bloody body bind Harry!" She squinted up at him.

Harry's nerves were immediately on alert. Who would do this? Who had attacked his friend?
What about...

"Hermione?" Ginny asked.

"Oh gods!" Harry jumped up and ran to Hermione's room, bursting through the double
doors in search of her. Someone had attacked Ginny. Did they get Hermione too? He looked quickly
around the room and then ran around the suite, shoving doors open in search of her. But she was
nowhere to be found, and then that all too familiar whine of panic began to buzz in his head.

"HARRY!" Ginny had been yelling the entire time it took him to search the suite.
"GET ME OUT OF THIS ALREADY!"

Harry ran back to her. "Ginny, I'm sorry!" He quickly unjinxed her, then started
rubbing her arms to help get the circulation flowing again.

"Who did this? What happened to Hermione? Did they get her too? Or did she manage to
escape?" Harry let off a rapid fire string of questions.

"Harry, what are you on about?" Ginny looked at him as if he were clearly insane.

"Who attacked you Ginny? What did they do to Hermione?" His voice was stern and laced
with a hint of panic.

"Hermione did this." Ginny explained.

"What?"

"Hermione did this to me. Put the bloody bind on me when I tried to stop her. Oooh, just
wait 'til I get my hands on her!" Ginny's face was slowly turning red. "Then she
tried to prop me up on that pillow. Couldn't hold myself up, just kept flopping over. Finally
just fell asleep." Her face had pillow marks creasing her cheek.

Harry looked at her, thoroughly confused. "Ginny, have you been Confunded?"

"What?" She looked at him, realizing he clearly wasn't getting it. "Harry,
*Hermione* did this to me!" She spoke slowly, trying to emphasize her point.

"Ginny," he looked her over and just noticed the outfit, "what on earth are you
wearing?" Then he made a small face as he caught a whiff of the amber liquor.

"Ginny? Are... are you drunk?"

"What? No! I mean, maybe a little, but Harry, I've not had nearly as much as Hermione
has. She's right and truly pissed!"

"Ginny, Hermione doesn't drink," Harry began to explain.

"Well she certainly does now! Oh, and that suddenly reminds me," she threw a hard
punch straight into his upper arm.

"HEY! OW! What'd you do that for?!"

"Because you're an ABSOLUTE PRAT, YOU WANKER!"

Harry was utterly shocked at the sharp turn in Ginny's behavior.

"What are you talking about! I've not done anything!"

"Exactly, you've not done a bloody thing in TWO WHOLE MONTHS! Do you realize what
it's been like for Hermione?" Ginny stood up, trying to shake feeling back into her limbs,
then began pacing while she proceeded to lay into Harry.

"Do you have any idea what she's been going through? You don't visit her in
hospital! You don't write anything more than a note to her, and then, to top it all off, you
completely ignore her once she gets here to go off with that dolled up TROLLOP!!" She was
shaking her finger at him now. "And now, because of you, one of my best friends is out there,
completely blotted and feeling totally unwanted and unloved. She thinks you just used her to fight
off Riddle and pass your NEWTs. You left her all alone and now she's out there," Ginny
looked close to tears, "she's out there all *alone* Harry, and it's because of
*you!* How could you just ignore...?" She swiped at her face with the back of her hand,
releasing a large sniffle. "Even if you didn't... if you don't... you should have said
*something* Harry! I thought you were better than that!"

Harry sat there, dumbfounded. He couldn't even begin to process what Ginny was saying, it
hurt too much. To think that *that's* what Hermione thought of him. That he had made her
feel that way.

"She... she thinks I just used her?" Harry looked up at Ginny with quite possibly the
saddest and most hurt expression she had ever seen.

Her tone softened just a bit. She knelt down in front of him. "Harry. Look at it from her
perspective. You've not said but two words to her since that night, and after what she
said," she sighed, "Harry, you should have at least spoken to her."

"But that's what I came here to do. I ran into Luna and she made me realize how stupid
I've been and I came rushing back here to talk to Hermione. Ginny, does she really feel like
that?"

"Honestly Harry, she doesn't even think you like her anymore. How would you feel?"
She looked at him as he took a moment to think about it. He groaned and dropped his head into his
hands.

"Exactly. But that's not the worst of it, because I'll tell you, right now
she's feeling completely unwanted, and she's gone off and I'm afraid she's going to
do something completely stupid."

Harry looked up, "what do you mean?"

Ginny motioned for him to get up and follow her. They walked over to the ornate mirror near the
bathrooms. Harry looked at her in confusion, and then she took his wand and tapped the mirror while
speaking an incantation. Harry watched in rapt attention as a fine mist fogged it over, and then he
thought he'd quite truly die from shock.

The recorded reflection of Hermione, dressed in the tightest, jaw dropping outfit Harry had ever
seen, pranced in front of the mirror, clearly laughing and twirling about. He couldn't tell
what was more shocking, the outfit itself, or the fact that she was wearing it. And, despite his
guilt at having put her in such a state, his physiological reaction held a healthy appreciation for
her attire.

He shook those thoughts from his mind as he began to realize the danger of the situation.

"Ginny, where is she?" If she was out there, dressed like *that*, completely
inebriated... well, it didn't take much imagination to conjure all the horrible scenarios
*that* could lead to.

"I don't know." Ginny looked and sounded quite upset. "I tried to stop her. I
never thought she'd use the bind on me. But I tell you, as brassed off as I am, I'm more
*worried* than anything else." She looked away, trying to compose herself.

"Harry," she faced him, tears in her eyes, "you have to find her."

"You've no idea where she's gone?"

"What if she's gone and splinched herself!" Ginny was nearing hysteria.

"Ginny, calm down." He tried to comfort her and keep himself from full blown panic at
the same time. *'Where would Hermione go? What is she doing?'* Harry tried desperately
to think. *'I need to think like Hermione.'* No sooner had the thought crossed his
mind when he grabbed his wand back from Ginny and tapped the mirror again.

*"Encore!"*

He bent down a bit and looked closely at the reflection. *'Please, let it be there. I know
you're mad Hermione, but you're not careless.'* She twirled around, and it was
notoriously difficult to make out the sharp details, but... YES! It was there! A sparkle of blue on
her left hand.

Harry stood and reached under his collar, pulling off his chain. He unclasped it and put his
ring on, the one Hermione had made for them. The one thing he needed to find her.

*"Show me,"* he commanded. The swirling miasma of images that flashed through his
brain made him instantly nauseous. He staggered and nearly fell over before Ginny grabbed him. His
head was swimming, and it took a second to regain his composure. He looked over at Ginny.

"Merlin! How much did she have to drink?"

Ginny nodded towards the table with the two nearly empty bottles sitting there. Harry looked at
her wide eyed. He took a deep breath, then tried again.

He fought through the nausea and focused all his concentration on sharpening the swirled images
he was getting from Hermione. There were banks of multicolored lights, but it was dark and smoky
and lots upon lots of people. Then he caught a familiar sight... an open doorway into a horribly
green bathroom with a flickering light.

"Ugh, she's gone to that club!"

"She got in?" Ginny was momentarily impressed. "I mean, you have to fetch her
Harry."

"Hang on," he worked the ring again and concentrated. Too many people in the club.
He'd have to pop back into that alley. "Be right back Gin, not to worry." He gave a
halfhearted smile.

"Don't call me Gin." She smiled back, and then he grabbed his cloak and ran out
the door.

He couldn't bear to wait for the lifts, and proceeded to run down the twelve flights of
stairs back to the lobby and the apparation point. He concentrated on the same darkened corner of
the alley that he'd just come from and *CRACK*, he was gone.

***

He stepped out of the darkness and immediately headed for the club. The first thing that struck
him was that there was no line of people like before. Then he noticed the bouncer sitting on the
ground in front of the entrance. He was talking to himself, loudly, and pulling at his legs.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked before entering the club.

"I don't know what happened," the formerly imposing man looked quite embarrassed.
"There was this girl, and I tried to, um," he looked away for a second, "I tried to
talk to her, but then she said something funny, and then I fell down. I had to squirm for the last
half an hour just to make it this far!"

*'Hermione!'* Harry thought. He glanced around, making certain that he'd be
unseen, then drew his wand and performed the countercurse to the Leg Locker jinx. The man looked up
appreciatively at Harry.

*"Merci!"* He wiggled his legs, then vigorously rubbed them to rid the numbness.
"What did you do?"

*"Obliviate!'* Harry leaned towards the man, who had a blank expression on his
face, then spoke softly to him.

"You made a lewd comment to one of the girls in line. Her boyfriend flattened you, and
that's how you got on the ground."

The bouncer blinked a couple of times, then looked at Harry.

"Where did he go?!"

"Um, who?"

"That *bâtard* who hit me?" He began rubbing at the imaginary bruise on his
jaw.

"I saw someone run off down the alley," Harry pointed back towards the coffee shop.
The bouncer got up, then went stalking off in that direction.

Harry ran into the club, and began desperately searching for Hermione. There were definitely a
greater number of people in here than earlier, and Harry had an idea that was because Hermione had
given them all free reign to enter. He had to push and shove his way from point to point to find
her. After five minutes he began to get extremely impatient, and then worried that maybe he had
missed her. He made his way toward a wall, then turned away from everyone, and used his ring
again.

*"Show me,"* and then he braced himself for the dizziness. It was stronger now,
but he held his concentration. He could still see the same images from earlier, which meant she had
to be here. But where?

He used the ring again, but this time he pushed harder, remembering the odd side effect it had
caused before. At first he could see the same thing - flashes of the club. But as he focused, the
images changed. His perspective changed - he was dancing, and then there were hands on him, and
when he turned he was looking at some guy with green eyes and a predatory grin...

*'WHO THE BLOODY HELL IS THAT!?'*

He lost the connection at his momentary surprise. Then turned back towards the room and tried to
figure out where they were. But the place was too crowded. He'd have to try again.

This time he could see the room bobbing in front of him through a multicolored haze, then it hit
him - hard. First he was dizzy and lightheaded, completely discombobulated from the alcohol, and
just when he was learning how to cope with her physical state, that's when her emotions hit,
and Harry thought his head and heart would burst from the devastation of it. She was so sad - so
completely lost, and even though some part of him knew that the alcohol had amplified these
feelings - just the thought of her being in that much pain made him hurt deeply. And then he was
looking from her point of view again - she had moved closer to this man - then extremely close, as
if he had grabbed her. Then Harry got the second greatest shock of the evening. A feeling unlike
anything he had ever experienced before - a potent stab of erotic thrill went through her - went
through him - and he felt a flush of heat wash over him. It completely eradicated everything she
had been feeling before - all the pain and sadness she felt had been smothered.

From her point of view he saw her move painfully close to that man again, then she must have
closed her eyes, because everything went black with faint bursts of color. With those bursts Harry
felt his pulse race in time with hers. Was she kissing him? Oh Merlin, she *was* KISSING HIM!
And then her vision came back, the ceiling of the club coming into view as another excited rush
went through her, causing Harry's skin to tingle everywhere. Parts of his anatomy went berserk,
and then this guy... this BASTARD... came swimming into focus again.

Harry forcibly threw himself out of the connection. He was horrified and in complete and utter
shock. As his mind became his own again, he realized the true urgency of the situation. He scanned
the room in a near panic, until, finally, he spotted them on one of the many elevated platforms in
the club. Then he immediately regretted finding them, because at the moment they were snogging each
other like mad. Harry felt a pounding in his head and his hands squeezed into tight fists, nearly
causing him to snap his wand. He began to shove and push his way through the throbbing crowd, but
he didn't seem to be gaining ground nearly fast enough. He never took his eyes from them, and
then, to his horror...

*'DID HE JUST SQUEEZE HER ARSE?!'*

But Harry realized that he was more horrified when Hermione not only didn't object, but
turned and left with him out the back exit.

Harry went into full blown panic mode! Hermione - his Hermione! (and when on earth had he begun
to think of her *that* way?) - was leaving with some strange man! Some strange man who
obviously had some seriously deviant activities in mind and SHE DIDN'T CARE!! But worst of all,
Harry realized, was that this was all his fault - he had driven her to this! And he couldn't
push through this crowd! They wouldn't budge and Harry was watching Hermione walk out of his
life and couldn't do anything to stop her!

***************

A/N: Well - it's time to 'fess up. You, dear reader, have been drawn into, what is quite
possibly, the longest song fic ever. This whole story was inspired by one song, and the side of a
plumbing van (more on that when I finish this beast). So, knowing how some people either love or
loathe song fics, I decided to leave the song portion of it out. If you're interested, the
lyrics appear below - if not, skip them completely and forget I ever said anything.

:^)

P.S. - I won't take nearly as long for the next update (I hope.) Sorry for the delay.

**Into a Darkened Room**** *(it's credited as Depeche Mode, but I don't
think that's accurate)*

Daylight bleeds to darkness
Desire comes over you
You enter to the fire
You know what you have to do

You've got your perfect face on
Your body is dressed to kill
Breathe in one last breath now
Push out all that's real

You feel it
You feel a need
You feel it
I need to feel you

If temptation is too much
You're excited by the fear
You're hungry for a stranger's touch
True love disappears
Into a darkened room

And somewhere there's a warm heart
To whom which you are bound
But it's hard to feel the warmth here
When that heart is not around

So the body's an icy tomb
And dying to be fulfulled
With one thrust of sweet passion
True love's coffin will be sealed

You feel it
You feel a need
You feel it
I need to feel you

And temptation gets too much
You're excited by the fear
You're hungry for a stranger's touch
True love disappears
Into a darkened room



8. Discomfiture
---------------

A/N: Yeah, I hate cliffies myself, so I couldn't bear to make you all wait either. Thanks
again for the kind (and persistent) words of encouragement. And so begins the next chapter...

And just for grins and giggles, see if you can find the Cure lyric hidden within.

***************

**Discomfiture**

When Harry was younger, before he knew anything of magic or wizards, he possessed the
instinctive capability to perform magic when dire or emotional situations arose. If he was pushed
to the breaking point, he would intuitively lash out. He could never explain what had happened, or
why, but when the necessity of the situation forced him into using his unknown abilities, he was
capable of doing extremely rare and often potent feats of wandless magic out of pure instinct.

This was one of those situations.

Without realizing it, Harry projected a channel of energy directly from himself towards the
direction Hermione had gone. This channel pushed and shoved everyone between the two of them aside.
He watched in amazement as the dense throng of people before him parted in a nearly biblical
manner. He stood in surprise for just a moment before making his way through the crowd. Oblivious,
patrons closed in behind him as he passed, resuming their previous activities.

***

A dim light illuminated the doorway of the alley that Hermione now found herself in with her
handsome and quite willful stranger. He was persistent in deepening their snogging session from
earlier, and, much to her surprise, this included some serious groping as well.

Her voice of reason seemed to have finally disappeared. For just a moment it saddened her. She
recognized that this path was the death of her former self and quite possibly the creation of some
new and terrible person. She should have been frightened, but the copious amount of alcohol was
doing it's job quite nicely.

In fact, a brief thought flitted through her mind. What if anyone she knew could see her like
this? She could feel a small laugh bubble to the surface as she imagined the shocked looks of
someone like Lavender or Parvati - any of the girls who had so ruthlessly referred to her as
'the youngest old maid they had ever known'.

She imagined strutting in front of her former classmates with her devastatingly attractive
stranger. She could picture the looks of disbelief as she not only flaunted him, but transfigured
from her former self, hunched over in school robes with a stack of books, to what she was now, this
beautiful girl in revealing clothing. Certainly a girl who was more likely to draw attention from
the opposite sex. Oh no, they would never believe it.

Playing out this fantasy in her head, combined with the obvious elicit thrill of her current
situation, made her head swim. But then, as her stranger (and she couldn't call him anything
else, the thought of 'lover' startled her too much, and 'boyfriend' or
'date' were simply disproportionate to the activity she was currently engaged in) pulled
her closer and began to work his hand beneath the back of her blouse, somehow it made her think of
Harry. She flashed on that hug they had shared in another alley, which seemed to have been a
million years ago. And then she thought of her little fantasy and wondered what if Harry were
there? What if he were *here*? Would he see her differently? Would the picture of her as a
girl (*'well, quite honestly, if I keep this up, more likely a woman,'* she thought)
who was desired by someone else - would that be enough to bring him around?

Just as this flicker of hope suddenly sprang forth, it died as quickly.

*'It didn't work with Viktor - why should it work now?'* Not the same voice as
before. This one was much darker.

*'You're right,'* she thought sadly. Then she broke free from the stranger and
looked at him. The sudden loss of her startled him, and he looked at her.

"What...," he was breathless. "What's the matter? Have I done something
wrong?"

"No...," she smiled sadly. "No. I just wanted to look at you. To look at your
beautiful green eyes." If it was the closest thing she could ever have, then she'd make
the most of it.

He was momentarily confused, then smiled back at her while gently cupping her cheek.

"You are beautiful you know. You must know that."

It was as if he knew exactly what to say - what she was going through. A tear slipped freely
from her eye and he brushed it away.

"What is your name?"

"Please - I don't... I don't want to remember who I am... who I was..."

"I understand." And as she stared at him, she saw he *did* understand. She
realized that he had probably been in this situation before, perhaps numerous times. He was older,
maybe by as much as ten years, but certainly not more than that. She hadn't realized this
before, she'd been much too distraught. Perhaps this was what he did - preyed on young women
who found themselves alone in a foreign land, away from home and probably their boyfriends for the
first time. It was the stuff of trashy romance novels she'd heard about. A seductive older man
and the lost young virgin - certainly a cliché she never considered would ever involve her. Yet
somehow, she wasn't bothered by any of this.

But for all her sudden revelations, she did notice something significant. He had not persisted
when she pulled back. He hadn't been obnoxiously rough or overly insistent. Whatever he may be,
so far he had been a gentleman, of sorts. A bit aggressive perhaps, but he took no more than she
was willing to give. He recognized her need, her despair, and he knew exactly what she
required.

"Do you want to know my name," he asked softly.

She shook her head 'no' and then fell back into that soft and warm buzzing permeating
her mind. She could pretend... she could imagine.

"Can I call you Harry?" She asked him, her voice shy in stark contrast with her
previous actions.

"For you, I am Harry." He smiled again in complete understanding, then gently cupped
both her cheeks and gave her a deep and passionate kiss.

***

Harry moved quickly towards the back of the club in pursuit of Hermione. His momentary triumph
of making his way through the crowd quickly disappeared as he reached the area behind the elevated
stages. He had expected to find an obvious door or exit. At the very least a nook where he might
find them... ugh... he didn't even want to *think* about *how* he might find
them.

What he did find was a series of doors and hallways. Some led to other portions of the building,
some must be utility or storage rooms of some type. Harry couldn't be certain which was which
and he felt his situation grow more desperate. For just a moment he considered using the ring again
- but the thought of experiencing what Hermione was experiencing - it was too much. He couldn't
bring himself to do it again.

So he worked the hallway as quickly as he could. He'd try doors, those that were locked
he'd assume they hadn't used. The two other hallways led to both a kitchen and a set of
offices and the DJ booth. He was certain they had come this way - where had they gone?

*'I'll have to - I just need to not push so hard,'* he thought. It was
difficult to hold his own emotions in check. The urgency he felt, and the unexpected manifestation
of wandless magic, he didn't know if he could control his own power. The need to get to
Hermione was too great.

He forced himself to calm down. He leaned against the wall of the corridor and took a deep
breath, willing himself to relax. If he couldn't do that first, he'd see and feel much more
than he wanted. He gave it just a moment, and then...

*"Show me."*

Flashes of brick walls, some rubbish bins - it was an alley. Not the one he'd first appeared
in - it must be out back, but where? There was a doorway dimly lit.. is that where she was? He
tried to focus more. A small set a steps led up from a door... rubbed off lettering... *La Salle
Sombre*... it *was* the exit to the club. How had he missed it?

He couldn't apparate. There was no way of knowing whether or not this mystery man was a
muggle or not, and the last thing Harry needed to do was exacerbate the situation. He looked up and
down the corridor. Where was it? He'd tried all the doors and the hallways dead ended into
rooms. He forced himself to calm down again and looked over the corridor - five doors, all locked.
He took slow and deliberate steps in trying each door again. He came to the fifth door, still
locked, then released an exasperated sigh. He considered running outside through the front and
finding a way around the building, but when he turned to leave, he realized that he hadn't
walked the entire length of the corridor. He had stopped at the fifth door, but the dark hallway
extended another 10 feet at least. He walked to the end, and almost had to hex himself for not
realizing it before. The hallway bent in an 'L', and around the corner the exit door was
clearly marked.

***

He nearly launched himself out the door and into the alley. He looked around, frantic, and
recognized the images from before - the brick walls, the rubbish bins - and then, slightly angled
from where he stood, was a dimly lit doorway, and...

*"HERMIONE!"*

"How did you know my name?" Hermione asked her stranger, as he suddenly broke their
kiss.

"It seems, *Hermione*, that we have company." He gave a knowing smile, then
nodded his head toward Harry.

She saw Harry running toward them from across the alley. Then she looked back at the man she had
convinced herself was Harry at the moment. And then she was quite certain the alcohol had made her
delusional, and she laughed.

"Why are there two you?" She looked at them both and her head began to hurt. She
raised a hand to her temple and swayed. The stranger made a quick move to steady her and this
infuriated Harry.

"You.. You STEP AWAY FROM HER!" He was shaking with anger, his face turning red as he
yelled. It took all of his self control not to immediately grab his wand.

"I don't think that would be wise. It seems she is quite dizzy." The stranger
maintained a civilized tone, as if Harry had merely asked him the time of day.

Hermione looked at the both of them again, and tears came back to her eyes.

"I.. I don't understand? Harry?" But she was looking at the stranger again.
"What's happening?"

"What have you DONE TO HER!" Harry reached into his cloak. His hand tightly gripped
his wand.

"I assure you, I've done nothing." Again, that calm and rational tone.
"Perhaps it is you who has done, or maybe, *hasn't* done something?"

The color in Harry's face quickly drained away.

"What would you know about it?!" His voice was dangerously low.

"I know more than you might think. It is not the first time I've encountered a
beautiful and obviously unappreciated young woman." He softly brushed the hair back from
Hermione's forehead and Harry, despite what else he had witnessed this evening, felt an
uncontrollable rage surface at this gentle and intimate gesture.

"Such women are meant to be cherished." He looked at Harry again. "Wouldn't
you agree?"

Harry could only stare at him, utterly confused. In all the possible scenarios he could imagine
- a duel with some new dark wizard or a fist fight with a smarmy drunk - this was utterly
unexpected. He felt his anger slowly dissipate.

"Hermione, my dear," he kissed her gently on the forehead. "You are an amazing
young woman. Never forget that you are beautiful, no matter what others may make you perceive to
the contrary." He stepped back from her, steadying her shoulders. "If you should need me,
ever again," he gave a quick glance at Harry, as if threatening him, "then I'll be
here, waiting." He gave her another quick kiss, then returned to the club.

Hermione stood there, tears slipping freely down her cheeks.

"No.. no wait!" She turned, but he was already gone.

Harry slowly came up behind her, then took hold of her arm. The awkwardness of the situation
weighed heavily on him, but for now, she was safe, and that was the most important thing.

"We, um, we should get back. Ginny's out of her mind with worry..."

"GET THE BLOODY HELL AWAY FROM ME!" Hermione pulled free from his grasp, her face
blotted purple with anger.

"Hermione..." Harry was at a loss for words.

"NO! YOU GET AWAY! I'LL NOT LET YOU HURT ME EVER AGAIN!!" She turned and ran back
towards the club.

Harry ran ahead of her, blocking her path.

"You're not going back in there?!"

"GET OUT OF MY WAY!"

"No! You're completely pissed and I'll not let you..."

"YOU won't LET ME!? WHO THE BLOODY HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE!"

"I'M YOUR BEST FRIEND!" He grabbed her shoulders, his anger rising again.

She pulled back from him.

"Don't you *dare!* You stopped being my friend the day I stopped being of use to
you!" Her voice was low and threatening.

"That's not true! You *know* that's not true!" He grabbed her again, then
shook her as he emphasized the point. He didn't know if he was more angry that she believed it,
or that he had caused her to believe it.

"DON'T... DON'T LIE TO ME!" Her expression quickly changed from terribly angry
to terribly hurt and her voice dropped. "I know what I am, what I was!" Tears were
pouring down her face. "I don't want to be that person anymore! She let herself get used
and lied to! She risked her life for you and would have died for you time and again, and when all
was said and done you left her ALL ALONE! RUBBISH TO BE COLLECTED AFTER THE PARTY!!"

"That's not... I mean.. I never meant.."

"I HATE YOU!"

She felt a sick twinge of happiness at the hurt look on his face. He didn't know how much it
hurt. He would never understand how thoroughly she'd been crushed. And whether it was her
darker nature or just the effects of the alcohol, she wanted nothing more than to hurt him.

"I BLED for you!" She held up her scarred left hand to emphasize the accusatory
statement. "I almost DIED because of you!" And she pulled her keyhole blouse to the side,
revealing a nasty black starburst mark from Dolohov's curse she'd never shown anyone.
"And when I thought you were gone - when I thought you had been completely incapacitated by
Voldemort - I opened my SOUL up to you! And you crushed it! You completely destroyed it! Do you
know what Harry! I wish I'd DIED that night! Because at least then I wouldn't have to live
like this! I wouldn't have known what a LIAR you are, and what an IDIOT I've been!"
She took a moment to revel in her sick glory, then took slow and deliberate steps past him and
towards the door.

Harry stood there in complete and stunned silence. He knew that she was drunk, and from what had
just happened a rather *mean* drunk at that. He knew what she had felt - he'd gotten that
much from the connection he'd forged earlier when looking for her. It was intense and painful,
and he had empathized. But *this* - everything she'd just blasted him with - he thought
his heart might break from the agony of it. It left him completely devastated.

Throughout his life, everything he had ever had cause to blame himself for, always came back to
the same thing. Everyone always told him 'it's not your fault Harry', 'you're
being too hard on yourself Harry', 'don't be daft Harry.' And slowly, over the
years, he'd finally come to accept this - but now... it truly was his fault.

After the shock wore off, he looked around, and found Hermione inches away from re-entering the
club. He forced down his hurt, something he'd had years of practice mastering, and concentrated
solely on her. On the imminent danger she was in.

"Don't!" He warned her.

"Why not?" She didn't bother to look at him.

"Because I know you, Hermione."

She gave a derisive snort.

"I know the *real* you. And you would never be able to forgive yourself for something
as foolish as this."

She took a moment, then sighed, a long and slow sigh of contemplation. The venom seemed to have
left her system, and she turned to face him, another tear falling down her cheek.

"Honestly Harry, why do you even care?" Her voice was whisper soft.

"Because, despite whatever you may think, despite whatever I've led you to believe, I
am still your friend. I always have been."

"Don't," she was slowly dissolving into sobs, "just leave me be."

"I won't. I won't let you go in there. I won't let you go on believing that
you're unwanted, Hermione. I know what you're feeling..."

"You don't You couldn't!!"

"I do. I can't explain now, but I do, and I promise, we'll work this through."
He walked over and grabbed her tightly, and she began sobbing.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry I did this to you." He held her and tried to smooth
her pink tinted hair.

She cried for awhile, trying to take solace in his arms.

"Let me go Harry." Her muffled sobs came up from his chest.

"I won't Hermione. I promise. I'll not let you go again." He pressed his own
damp cheek against her head.

"No Harry... let me go."

He wiped at his face, then loosened his arms and looked at her.

"Hermione, I promise. Never again will I let you go." He looked at her in earnest.

She looked up, the strangest expression on her face. Then she threw up.

He let her go.

"Oh Merlin! Hermione, are you alright?!" He kneeled down beside her, and she fell to
her knees and continued to retch.

Harry had no experience whatsoever in dealing with someone as sick as Hermione was at the
moment. He pulled her hair back and used a vanishing charm to do away with.. with whatever it was
they had had at dinner. He couldn't help but wrinkle his nose, but he was steadfast. He helped
her throughout the worst of it, and when she was done, he helped her to stand.

She looked at him, her face puffy and swollen, her head aching like the end of the world. Her
voice was a raspy groan.

"Harry, I'm so sorry..."

"It's alright, it'll come out."

"I'm not feeling too good."

"I know. Don't worry, I'll get you back."

"No... Harry. I can't... I can't let them see me like this..." she almost
started crying again.

"I'll not let them see you like this. I promise."

The last thing Hermione remembered before passing out was a familiar soft blue light emanating
from Harry's wand. It soothed her face, and then she was being carried, and then... then
nothing.

***************



9. Discourse
------------

***************

**Discourse**

Harry wrapped Hermione up in his cloak, then gently picked her up. He realized there was no way
to apparate the both of them back to the hotel. If a wizard, even one as powerful as himself, could
apparate other wizards, then he'd probably have been abducted ages ago by any one of
Voldemort's followers.

He cast a levitating charm on Hermione to make it nearly effortless to carry her back. Luckily
they weren't terribly far from the hotel, and, seeing as how it was so late it was nearly
morning, he didn't have to entertain too many awkward and questioning glances.

Only the desk clerk was present when he entered the lobby, and he was either too polite or too
well trained to ask any questions. Harry took the lift up to the twelfth floor, unlocked the doors
to the suite, and gently placed Hermione on her bed.

He sat on the bed as well, relieved that the night was finally over and he'd managed to save
Hermione. Although he was certain she'd balk at such a term. He saw it as nothing less than a
heroic rescue, but, if was to be perfectly honest with himself, she hadn't been the one
rescued. He'd narrowly managed to save himself from a life without her - the mere thought of
which made his chest hurt. He'd nearly lost her because of some foolish pride, and, if that had
happened, he doubt he'd ever be able to forgive himself.

He sat with his arms folded on his legs, his head drooped in exhaustion, as he once again
ruminated over the evening's events. Then he wearily rose from the bed and went to wake Ginny,
who had fallen asleep on the transfigured couch.

"Ginny?" He whispered softly as he shook her shoulder. "Ginny, wake up!"

"Mmmm," she murmured, then turned away from him and into the couch.

"Ginny!" He hissed at her. "It's Harry! I'm back with Hermione! C'mon
Gin, I need your help."

"...don't... Gin...," she turned back around, then slowly opened her eyes.
"Harry? Is that you?"

"Yeah, c'mon Ginny. I really need your help."

It took her a moment to truly awaken, and then she propped herself up on her elbows and rubbed
at her eyes.

"Did you find her? Is she alright?"

"I put her to bed."

"Oh thank Merlin!" She sat up, then let loose a comically loud belch. She had the
decency to look truly embarrassed and Harry couldn't help but give a small laugh.

"Oh my goodness! I'm sorry! It's the alcohol - I think I had a bit too
much."

"Seems to be a trend."

"Where's Hermione?"

"She's asleep in her room. I need you to help me put her to bed properly."

Ginny wearily stood, then stretched and shuffled towards Hermione's room with him. She saw
her lying on the bed, completely cocooned in Harry's cloak.

"Ginny, where are her bedclothes?"

Ginny scratched her head a bit, her stylish and streaky hairdo now a frizzed up knotted mess.
She thought a moment, then looked down at her own outfit.

"Oh, um, actually," and she looked quite sheepish, "those, um, those *are*
her bedclothes."

"You're joking?"

"No, no I'm not. These are my bedclothes as well. She transfigured us into these,"
she waved her arm up and down over her outfit. "We were just having a bit of fun is
all."

"Right." Harry took a moment to think. "Do you happen to remember what spell she
used?"

"Not really. As it is, I'm having a problem remembering what day it is."

"Alright then," he drew his wand then waved it towards her. "Do you mind if I try
something?"

"Er, um, I suppose not." She closed her eyes a bit too tightly.

"Oh honestly Ginny, if Hermione could do that drunk, certainly I'm not going to do any
worse sober."

Ginny opened one eye. "Yeah, but she's *Hermione.* You might be the Boy Who Lived
and such, but you're no McGonagall's Pet."

Harry's expression was a mix between crossed and amused.

"Just shut your eyes then."

And Ginny squinched her eyes up tightly as Harry performed the spell to return her clothes to
their original state.

Before peeking, Ginny immediately noticed that her clothing was much more comfortable. She
opened one, and then the other eye, looked down, then breathed a sigh of relief.

"Not too bad," she commented. Even the black streaks had vanished from her hair.

"Alright then, I'll just transfigure her back as well."

"Good idea. I don't even want to think about what Ron or the twins would say if they
saw her in that."

"Right, about that, where is Ron anyway?"

"I guess he's still out with Luna. I didn't hear them return, and I know he'd
have had some words about the outfit I was in, whether I was asleep or not."

"That's good then. Listen, this," and he twirled his hand in a circle indicating
the three of them, "this can't go beyond the three of us. I know Hermione's probably
already embarrassed enough as it is, and, as you said, I don't even want to think about what
the others would say if they knew what went on tonight."

"Harry, what did happen? Was she still at that club when you found her?"

"She was. She'd had some more to drink, and," and Harry chose his words carefully,
"she was dancing like a maniac. Quite unlike herself. But then she was quite sick..."

"Is *that* what that smell is?"

"That would be the bit that got on me."

"Ewww!"

"That's why I need your help. Listen...," and Harry gave brief instructions to
Ginny before telling her to go to bed. He promised to stay with Hermione and let her know when she
was awake in the morning.

He went back to Hermione's room and levitated her above the bed. He pulled back the blankets
and removed his cloak from her before setting her down. He removed her boots, then performed the
same transfiguration charm he'd done on Ginny and watched as the revealing outfit returned to
her oversized shirt and sweatpants. Her wand dropped away from her arm as the tight sleeves shrunk
and loosened. He set it on the night table for safe keeping. The pink streaks also disappeared and
her hair was pulled into a loose ponytail. Harry gently removed the elastic and smoothed her hair
out on the pillow.

She looked so peaceful and he found it hard to imagine that hardly an hour ago she had been
raging at him. He brushed the hair from her face, and felt a twinge of jealousy as he remembered
that 'that bastard' (and Harry would forever remember him this way) had done the same
thing. But he was gone now, and, if Harry had any say in it, he would never return.

He brushed the back of his hand against her cheek and his breath caught as he once again
realized how horribly wrong things could have gone. This was also accompanied by the flutters in
his stomach that he only seemed to get in her presence. He let out a long sigh and appreciated the
simple beauty of her asleep and completely oblivious to the world. He'd been stupid not to talk
her sooner, and if Luna hadn't shown up... well, he couldn't bear to think on it.

He realized that he could easily spend the rest of the night watching her sleep like this, and
he most likely would. Even the small bit of drool that was forming at the corner of her lip was
endearing, and Harry knew he was being ridiculous. He moved to pull the blanket over her, when the
scent of her clothing hit him. It still reeked of the night's events - smoke, alcohol, and the
all too memorable waves of nausea. Yet, for the life of him, he couldn't think of the proper
cleaning charm to freshen her clothing. The only ones that came to mind were either meant to scour
(and that was too harsh) or remove altogether (definitely not the time or place for a vanishing
spell).

He delicately rummaged through the clothing she'd brought along. Unfortunately it appeared
that what she was wearing were her sole bedclothes, and nothing else looked appropriately
comfortable to sleep in.

Harry went to his room, sifted through his things, and returned with a large and well worn shirt
of his own. It was maroon with a Golden Snitch printed on the front and "Seeker" on the
back. It had actually been a gift from Ron quite a few years ago and even though it was stretched
and had a few holes in it, Harry had been reluctant to give it up. He had spent a good many
evenings relaxing in the common room in this shirt, and he'd come to regard it with a certain
affinity.

He laid the shirt out on the bed next to her, took aim, then closed his eyes as he performed a
switching spell on her clothing. He took a quick peek to make certain he'd done the job
properly, then breathed a small sigh of relief that it had worked. He bundled up her clothing and
threw it into the hotel laundry bin, then returned and tucked her in beneath the blankets.

He stared at her for a moment, then impulsively kissed her forehead.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered.

He went to his room and wearily changed into his own bedclothes, then went into the lavatory and
found a small waste bin that he thought would be a good idea to have nearby, just in case. He also
brought a damp washcloth back with him and gently dabbed her face clean. Then he grabbed an extra
pillow from her bed and a spare blanket from the closet, transfigured the room's sole chair
into a more comfortable chaise lounge and closed the doors to her room. He settled comfortably
beneath the blanket and watched her sleep until he finally slept himself.

***

*Fwoooom...*

*Fwoooom...*

*Fwoooom...*

Hermione was assaulted by the early morning daylight streaming in through the french doors to
her room. She tried to turn over and smother her head into the pillow when a fresh wave of nausea
hit. She leaned over and tried to get up, when she spotted a waste bin placed strategically nearby.
Taking unsteady aim, she let loose a few aching coughs, bringing up some small dribs and drabs. The
mere effort exhausted her and she flopped back onto her bed, moaning.

Then she swore she heard someone cast a vanishing spell, and then there was something cool
softly wiping her mouth. She tried to open her eyes again, but they felt glued shut. So she simply
fell back asleep.

***

She was standing in a darkened room, and on either side she could see herself. The one on the
left was wearing her school uniform, a shiny prefect badge glittering on her chest. The one on the
right was wearing the tight and revealing outfit from the fashion magazine. Yet, she looked older
somehow - weary.

"Where am I," she asked them.

"The crossroads," they answered in unison.

She looked around again, noting that there was nothing but blackness and the lights that
illuminated her two other selves.

"I don't understand?"

"Well honestly, it's rather obvious isn't it?" The prefect was rather
snobby.

"It is?" She felt completely lost.

"No, not really. But you're the smart one, aren't you. We'll give you a minute
to figure it out, luv." The tart was a bit condescending.

"I'm sorry, but I don't know what I'm doing here."

"You're here to choose." The prefect gave an exasperated sigh. "That
*is* why they call it the crossroads!"

"Choose what?"

"Me or her luv! Even *I* could figure that one out!" Then the tart hopped up on
an unseen ledge, crossed her legs, and lit up a cigarette.

"Ugh! Put that out this instant!!"

The tart blew smoke towards the prefect. "Or what? You'll deduct house points? Give me
a detention?"

"It's common courtesy! The least you could is show a little respect towards the rest of
us!"

"Hmph... FINE!" She flicked the cigarette to the ground. "Preachy bloody
prefect," she murmured as she stamped it out with her boot.

"What did you call me?!" The prefect marched over to the tart, who merely folded her
arms up and stared defiantly at her.

"You heard me! Bloody Miss Perfect! It's a wonder no one likes you!"

"Take that back!" The prefect's face was purple with anger.

"What, a bit too true then?" The tart looked at her with malevolent triumph.
"Couldn't get away from you fast enough, could they?"

"I've.. I've still got friends..."

"Ri-ight! But you haven't got *him*, have you?"

And in the distance, glowing like a beacon, was Harry.

The prefect took a step back, searching for something to say. Then she pointed a finger at the
tart,

"But..., but you've not got him either!" Her voice was shaky, but there was
confidence behind it.

"I don't *need* him! I've got *him!"* And she pointed behind her,
where the stranger suddenly appeared and he grabbed her from behind and began nuzzling her neck.
Her eyes rolled back and a greedy smile split her face as she leaned into him.

"But you don't love him!" The prefect was accusatory.

"Stupid little prefect! I don't need to *love* him! I don't need to love
anybody! Don't you get it? This is what being a grown up is all about?"

The prefect was apoplectic.

"I'm an adult now. I can indulge any need I have, and I don't need *you*
trying to ruin my fun!"

"But what will people think of you! How can you just debase yourself like that?!"

The stranger disappeared, as did Harry.

"Why is it debasement? Because I haven't crushed myself with feelings of love and guilt
over wanting to be desired? I know the difference between lust and love, and wanting to give in to
lust is not a criminal act!"

"But.. but that's just *filthy!"*

"Look at us. We tried love once, and it almost killed us. What's the harm in having a
little fun?"

"You're perverted!"

"And you're repressed!"

And then the two of them promptly tried to kill one another.

The tart seemed to have the upper hand as she straddled the prefect and grabbed her hair.

"WHY NOT TRY MY WAY!?" She was yelling through gritted teeth while bashing the
prefect's head into the ground. Then the two of them were blasted apart by Hermione's
wand.

"Because we all deserve better than that." Hermione looked at the both of them.
"It's not wrong to want to be with someone, but we're deluding ourselves if we think
we want nothing more than physical satisfaction. We... *I...* deserve better than that!"
She stepped towards them, then spoke to the prefect.

"You controlled everything I did for as long as I can remember. But, because of you, I lost
what was most important to me. Because of you I convinced myself that Harry couldn't handle the
thought of me loving him. And I waited... I waited until he was almost gone, and then I hit him
with it when he was least able to cope, and we frightened him away."

"And you," she faced the tart, "you're my passion, the part I always kept
suppressed. You fed on the hurt and self pity. It festered and you grew. But you've been denied
for so long that it was inevitable that you'd need to escape, to feed your... *my...*
baser needs. I can't deny that you're a part of me, and I promise not to utterly suppress
you as I have been, but I can't let you take over. I can't allow myself to satisfy lust,
forsaking sanity."

"HA! She chooses me! I knew she would!" The prefect grinned.

"No," Hermione corrected. "I choose both of you. Passion tempered by rationale.
To choose one or the other would only be to deny a part of myself, and I've been doing that for
far too long."

"But...," the tart looked nearly in tears, "but you can't... we can't
love him again! It hurts too much! Don't make me do that!"

"I'm sorry... you know I'll always love him." Hermione hugged her. "A
part of us will always love Harry. But if he doesn't love us, if he can't give us the love
we deserve, I promise you one day we'll find someone who will."

Then the prefect joined them, and Hermione was whole.

***

Hermione smiled and kissed Harry once again.

"I'm dreaming, aren't I?"

"Yes," he kissed her, "but there's no harm in indulging yourself
here."

She looked around and saw they were in a room quite similar to the Gryffindor dormitories.

"But I just told myself..."

"I know what you told yourself, but this is what I'm going to tell you. You know
you're dreaming?"

She nodded.

"And when you wake up, you know you're going to have to face the consequences of what
you've done."

She blushed.

"And so, knowing that there'll be a bit of unpleasantness ahead, and seeing as how
you've already resolved your inner demons, not to mention fashion tragedies, don't you
think you deserve a little happiness?"

She couldn't help but smile.

"Then let this part of you, this optimistic and hopeful part of you that can imagine and
daydream, let it help soothe your transition from dreaming to reality."

And then he gave her a kiss that made her tingle all over.

And Hermione felt free to indulge herself just this once as they fell into bed.

***

*Fwoooom...*

*Fwoooom...*

*Fwoooom...*

Hermione squeezed her eyes tighter, trying to will the noise to go away.

*Fwoooom...*

*Fwoooom...*

*Fwoooom...*

Then she realized it was the throbbing of her head.

She didn't want to wake up. She'd been having the most spectacular dream that had left
her flushed all over. She tried to fall back asleep, but the pounding in her head and the horrific
taste in her mouth wouldn't let her alone. She tentatively opened one eye, then the other, and
then regretted it.

From the light seeping in through the door, she guessed it had to be at least early afternoon.
She tried to remember anything at all about how she'd ended up here, safely tucked in bed. The
night was mostly a blur, but she had the horrible feeling that she'd done something...

*...green eyes...*

But they weren't Harry's. Who else did she know that had green eyes?

*...ma petite chouchou...*

That nasty man at the club. She'd jinxed him. But she'd never blatantly use magic in
front of muggles... would she? It certainly felt as if she had.

*,,,smoke and flashing lights...*

That club! She'd been to that club! But they turned her away... her and Ginny...

*'I'm sorry Ginny. Please forgive me.'*

Oh MERLIN! She'd used the body bind on Ginny! What was she thinking?

And then more and more came back to her in bits and pieces. The clothing, the club, the
brilliant green eyes of the sandy haired stranger... she blushed as thoughts of him came back...
and then... Harry?

Had Harry been there?

She tried harder to remember, which was like grasping at smoke.

She'd been kissing the stranger, but she remembered being carried by Harry. What on earth
had happened?

She tried to focus on Harry and the only thing that came to mind was her dream.

She blushed again.

*'Right then! Coffee! Tea! Something strongly caffeinated and a hot shower would surely
help me to remember* something!' She sat up and threw the covers off of her, then gasped in
astonishment.

These were not her bedclothes. This was not her shirt. And as she looked about the room and saw
nothing but a mass of blankets on a chaise, apparently her sweatpants were completely
non-existent.

That's when she noted the icon on the large maroon shirt she was wearing.

*'Is that a snitch?'*

And then, with a thrill of horror, she shakily got up from the bed and positioned herself in
front of the small mirror atop her dresser. She pulled her hair forward to one side, then slowly
turned around. At once she was both dreading and hoping at what would be there.

Seeker.

*'Oh gods! What have I done?'*

She instantly recognized the shirt. She'd spent many upon many nights gazing at it's
occupant when she should have been studying for NEWTs. Why couldn't she remember?

*'Because you drank like a grindylow last night!'*

Why did she see herself wearing her prefect badge when she heard that voice?

*'Okay, concentrate. What's the last thing I remember about last night? I remember...
Harry was carrying me.'* And a slightly giddy feeling ran through her. She looked down at
her shirt again.

*'There's no way! Certainly I'd remember something like THAT! And especially with
Harry! Besides, he'd.... he'd still be here...'*

Right then, not a remote possibility - she couldn't have, considering the condition
she'd been in.

*'Didn't stop you from snogging that man...'*

She winced.

*'Alright, calm down. Just take a moment here and think. What happened? I was upset
because... well, a myriad number of reasons I suppose. Then Ginny and I got drunk. And then... did
I tell Ginny why I was upset? I think I did.'*

She paced the floor trying to piece it together.

*'Right then, we drank something green. That I remember. And Luna! Ginny mentioned
something about Luna. Luna and that club. I zapped Ginny, went to the club, must have done
something to that awful fellow at the door... and then... URGH! What happened then?!'*

Her head was pounding, and it wasn't just from the hangover.

*'There was that man. I don't know who he was. Did he tell me? Did I ask?'* She
felt embarrassed as she realized she hadn't. *'Forget that bit then - there was him, and
I guess we must have been kissing, because that part I certainly remember.'* She rubbed at
her lips, which seemed a bit more raw than usual.

*'But where did Harry figure into the this? And how did I get back here?'* She
looked at the shirt again. *'Did he carry me, or did I imagine that bit?'* And then
she thought about her dream and kissing Harry, the lines between that and reality were blurring
heavily.

She sighed. Apparently the only way to resolve this was going to be a direct confrontation with
the parties involved. She imagined Ginny had a good portion of the evening's prologue, and
Harry would have the dismal denouement.

*'Time to face the firing squad,'* she thought, as she went to change into
something a little less embarrassing. She hoped to start with a long hot shower, so she reached for
her bathrobe, then went to take off Harry's shirt. That's when she let out a startled
shriek...

"ACK!"

...and grabbed for her jeans instead.

*'OH GODS OH GODS OH GODS!'* Hermione was in an absolute panic. She found the jeans
she'd been wearing from earlier the night before, hastily put them on, then began pulling her
clothes out from the dresser. She flung everything of hers she could find onto the bed, slipped on
her trainers without bothering with the socks, and quickly transfigured the lot and stuffed it into
her handbag.

She moved towards the door, then realized that any number of people could be in the living area.
She'd have to leave from here. She wrapped herself tightly in her cloak and tried to
concentrate on the Portkey station. Surely she could pop there and then find passage home. She
simply couldn't stay here! She'd have to send an apology owl later, but right now, she
didn't care how rude her actions might appear.

She focused, then tried to apparate and found she couldn't.

*'I don't care how tired I am - I have got to get out of here!'*

She tried again, squeezing her eyes tightly, which only spiked the pain in her head.

"Did you know that the rooms of most luxury hotels have anti-apparating wards?"

Hermione shrieked again as she clutched her chest in surprise, then staggered backward. Looking
quite bleary underneath what she had thought was simply a mass of unused blankets, was Harry. His
hair was more disheveled than usual and he looked almost amused.

"Honestly, am I the only one who's bothered to read 'Hotel Brochures: A
History'?" He playfully teased her with his throaty and slightly groggy voice. He
stretched then rubbed his face *('he's adorable first thing in the morning - STOP
THAT!')*. Then he reached for the nightstand and grabbed his glasses *('how did I not
notice those sitting there?')*, stood up, then put them on. He picked up a phial of blue
liquid from the nightstand *('or THAT?)*, then shuffled towards her holding it out.

"Here, you'd best drink this." His eyes were half open, as if he were finding it
rather difficult to stay awake. When she didn't move, he looked at her, concerned.

"Trust me, just drink this. You'll feel much better."

She hadn't realized she'd been holding her breath until she started seeing spots. Then
she let out an immediate gasp for breath and Harry looked quite worried. He lightly grabbed her
wrist and pulled her towards the bed.

"You're not looking too well. Maybe you should sit down."

She looked towards the bed in shock. "I'll... I mean... I'd prefer to
stand..." Her voice was oddly strangled.

"Hermione," he was still quite concerned, "please, you're starting to worry
me. Look, just drink this."

"What is it?"

"A hangover potion. Ginny dropped it off."

Hermione went pale.

"Don't worry - no one else knows what happened last night."

"Harry! *I* don't even know what happened last night! Not all of it
anyway!"

"Ginny thought that might be the case - this should help with that as well. Go on."
And he offered it again.

She was tentative, but grabbed the phial, uncapped it, then quickly downed the contents. After
that, she really did need to sit, then lie down.

Before she felt any better she felt much, much worse.

First it was the icy feel of the liquid. It seeped the warm sickness from her body that made her
throat burn and her head ache, but before she felt any benefit, she was assaulted by the images. It
was almost as if she were watching herself in the third person as memories and events played out in
quick succession. Drinking with Ginny... altering her appearance... arriving at the club... the
gorgeous sandy haired man with the green eyes... the fabulous *snogging* with the gorgeous
man... but then things became painfully slow.

And at that moment she knew... even if she had followed through on her intentions with that
stranger... even if she had woken up in some strange bed somewhere... she would never, ever, regret
it as much as what she had said to Harry in that alley.

The potion worked perfectly. Her headache and sickness were completely gone, her memories
restored, and yet, she still had the most gut wrenching feeling in the pit of her stomach.

She sat up, then looked over at Harry, who was sitting next to her on the bed.

"Feeling better?" And the simple look of concern on his face, after what she'd
done, brought her to tears.

"No... Hermione, please. Don't cry!" He looked mildly alarmed.

And the fact that he was still there, watching over her, caused her to cry even more.

"Oh no, look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you." And then he pulled her
into a hug, which only made her sob harder. He sighed. Without any thoughts of a better plan, he
just held her until she seemed to calm down. Then, she was oddly silent, so he held her, his chin
perched atop her head, his hand smoothing absentminded circles on her back.

*'Merlin, this feels good,'* he thought. He'd not held Hermione since
they'd been back in school, and just as before, he could feel those flutters in his stomach. He
realized yet again how lucky he'd been to get to her in time, before she'd done something
they'd probably both regret.

For a moment he thought he had lulled her back to sleep, until she mumbled something into his
chest.

"What," he asked softly.

She turned her head, her cheek now resting on his chest.

"I can't...," she couldn't bear to look at him.

"Can't what?" His voice betrayed a hint of worry.

"I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am." More tears silently dripped from her
cheeks.

He held her a little tighter, then used his hand to wipe some of her tears and gently tucked her
hair behind her ear.

"What? For throwing up on me?" He felt her give a soft snort of laughter and place a
hand against his chest. Then he smiled.

She waited another moment before speaking, reluctant to leave his embrace.

"Harry... I was so completely awful. To Ginny. To you!"

"Don't forget the Leg Locker you put on the bouncer," he joked.

She pulled back from him, alarmed.

"Oh no! I used magic on a muggle!!" She went pale. "I... I have to fix it! Oh
gods! What if someone's already discovered him? I am going to be in so much trouble!" She
was nearing a state of panic.

Harry couldn't help himself. He let out a small laugh and caught the infamous prefect glare.
*This* was the Hermione he knew!

"This isn't *funny* Harry! I could lose my invitation to the Academy!!" She
was standing now, her hands tightly clutching her cheeks.

"I'm sorry Hermione. I didn't mean to laugh. But don't worry, it's taken
care of."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I took care of it. I unjinxed him and did a little memory charm. Thinks he got
flattened by some jealous boyfriend."

"But... I mean... when?"

"Last night, right before I, um, before I found you."

She seemed to relax a little. At least the fingernail marks were slowly disappearing from her
cheeks.

"How exactly *did* you find me Harry? I know I didn't tell Ginny where I was
going."

"Honestly Hermione, how much have you forgotten?" Then he pulled the chain from
underneath his shirt and held up his ring.

She looked at it, astonished that he still had it, let alone *wore* it.

"I... I thought you'd stopped wearing it."

"Well, on my finger anyway. After about the second week on holiday I got tired of people
asking if Ron was my *'partner'."*

It was Hermione's turn to laugh.

"I picked up a chain from a local jeweler... I think it was somewhere outside Prague.
Anyway, it was easier to keep it this way. It, um, kept me from using it when I probably
shouldn't."

She looked as if she were about to ask him something, but he continued.

"You didn't really think I'd gotten rid of it, did you?" He looked a little
surprised.

"Actually, I did," and she revisited her feelings of self doubt. "I mean,
it's not as if you *need* it anymore. I already..., I mean, *it* already served
it's purpose. Hardly much use now."

"Hermione," and he still looked surprised, "*you* made this for me. For us.
I'd never get rid of it. Why would you think such a thing?"

She let out a loud sigh while thinking of where to begin.

"Look Harry, it's not as if you've given me any reason to think we still had much
of a friendship over the past two months." Her voice was soft and without accusation. It
seemed all the accusations and venom she had were spent last night.

He looked hurt, but let her continue.

"You have no idea what it's been like for me, and after everything I did and said to
you last night, after how horrible I was, I can't imagine why you'd even want to know me
anymore."

"Honestly Hermione, I have a pretty good idea of what you might be feeling right
now."

She gave a small snort. "I find that fairly difficult to believe."

"Alright then, don't believe me?" He stood up. "Then let's give this a
go." He almost took on a lecturing tone.

"You have a fairly emotional, nearly tragic and potentially embarrassing episode. But
rather than having the good graces to do this in private, you manage to have this breakdown in
front of your best friend. Although you might not readily admit it, someone who's opinion
really matters to you. Someone you even happen to admire and respect in some ways. They've just
collected you up after this embarrassing display, and you're feeling absolutely vulnerable,
completely out of sorts. You're not only embarrassed because of this complete loss of emotional
control, but you've managed, in all these years you've known this person, to keep these
things under a tight rein. You've prided yourself on this ability to keep all these emotions in
check. But, the one moment they manage to get the better of you, and in a monumental fashion no
less, it happens to be in front of this person."

He took a breath.

"And so, now you're feeling something fairly close to humiliation. The last thing you
want to do is have to face your friend again, because you have no idea how to act towards them.
This person has seen you at your absolute worse, and you've no clue what to do about it. You
try to think of what to say to them, but you find that, if the circumstances allow, it's just
so much easier to avoid talking to them altogether until you absolutely have to."

She looked at him, absolutely astounded.

"You might even think that getting away for awhile, that maybe *that* will help you
sort out what to say. But it doesn't, not really. It just makes that moment when you actually
do encounter them again..., it just makes it that much harder."

Her mouth was open, locked in that expression of complete astonishment. He gave her a moment,
then continued.

"Hermione... don't you understand? That's exactly what happened to
*me!"*

"To *you?* What on earth are you talking about?"

Harry moved back towards the bed and sat down while issuing a long sigh. He rested his elbows on
his knees, interlocked his fingers and found it difficult to look at her while he spoke.

"That night," his voice was soft. "The night we finally defeated
Voldemort..."

*"You* defeated Voldemort." She corrected quietly.

"No Hermione," and he looked directly at her, *"we* defeated him. I could
never have done what I did without you and Ron. I know I'd most likely be dead now had it not
been for the two of you." She was silent and he continued.

"After I used that spell, the one that bound us all together, it... it was if everything
good in my life, every good thing I'd ever shared with the two of you... I don't know how
to explain it Hermione. It was your friendship and trust and loyalty... your belief in me... it was
the best thing I'd ever felt. Ever! And I knew... I just knew the strength of that, of what
you'd given me, was powerful enough to stop him."

"But then," and he dropped his head again. "But then when you found
me..."

Hermione braced herself. Two months of waiting, and now she'd finally know.

"I was an absolute wreck Hermione. Every last bit of control I had was lost. All I
remember," and she could see his face redden from where she stood, "was channeling every
last bit of bottled up emotion I had ever had for my entire life into that crater. I knew he was
dead Hermione. I was certain he was dead, but I didn't care. I wished I'd been able to kill
him several times over after that. And when I was done... when I was done," he looked up
again, his eyes shining, "you were there."

She felt her own tears rising again, and knelt down in front of him.

"Oh Harry..."

"You were there, and I... I must have seemed so utterly pathetic."

"Harry, I could never think that of you."

He swiped quickly at this face before continuing.

"And then you did that spell on me, to hide what I'd looked like. I never thanked you
for that."

She couldn't stop herself from smoothing his hair back from his forehead.

"You never needed to thank me."

"But I did Hermione. I needed to tell you how much that meant to me, how much *you*
meant to me, and everything else you'd ever done, but I couldn't." He sniffed.

"Don't you see. I couldn't bear to face you again because you'd seen me...
you'd seen me like *that*. And I was so," he swallowed, "I was so humiliated by
my behavior. And I was so stupid, because I let that stop me from talking to you, and I made you
think... I never meant to hurt you Hermione. Please believe, that is the last thing I'd ever
do." His hand drifted to her collarbone to where she'd shown him that scar from
Dolohov's curse.

She covered his hand with hers.

"Oh Harry, I'm so sorry. I should never have said all those awful things to
you."

"But you had every right... I hurt you, Hermione. And I know how *much* I hurt you, so
I understand. I know why you said those things."

"Harry," she rose from her kneeling position, then sat next to him on the bed. "I
just need to know," she swallowed hard and summoned all of her Gryffindor courage. "That
night that I found you. Is what you've told me... is that *all* you remember?"

"I... yes." He looked a little confused. "I did the spell and then I guess I must
have collapsed or something, because the next thing I recall is you being there and me vaporizing
whatever was left of him." He furrowed his brow, trying to read her expression. "Why? Did
something else happen?"

Hermione had to think long and hard on this. At once she was relieved to know the truth. He
hadn't been as cruel as she had made him out to be. And now that she looked back on it, knowing
the reality of the situation, she felt stupid for ever thinking he could be that unkind. This was
*Harry* after all - still the same boy she knew. She never realized how much she had let her
self doubt cloud her reason.

But he had asked her directly what had happened, and now she was more frightened than ever. In
the last few moments they had managed to repair this rift between them, and she feared, if she told
him the truth, if she told him she loved him, then she ran the risk of ruining everything they had
just mended. Could she bear to lose him again?

"Hermione? What aren't you telling me?" He could almost read the conflict washing
across her face.

She put her face into her hands. "Oh Merlin I've been stupid."

He put his hand on her shoulder. "Hermione, what is it?"

"All this time I thought... I thought you were cross with me."

"Why on earth would I be cross with you?"

"I said some things...," she looked at him. "When I found you Harry, you were
completely catatonic. You'd defeated him, but you were vacant and I couldn't get you to
respond at all."

"I.. I have no memory of that."

"It took a bit. I had to shake you and then..."

*'Tell him already!'*

"And then I yelled at you. Anything to get you to wake up."

*'You bloody coward!'*

"You have to understand, I thought I'd lost you. Nothing was working, and then,
somehow, you came back." She held her breath, trying to gauge if he'd noticed her
half-truth.

His eyes narrowed slightly.

"What did you say?"

"What?"

"What did you say that would make you think I was cross with you?"

"Well, um..."

*'Think of something!'*

"I don't really remember exactly..."

*'Brilliant!'*

"You don't remember?"

"Not... um... not really."

His gaze was piercing her. She could almost feel his eyes boring into her head.

"It's... it's not really important now anyway..." She gave a lame smile, then
broke eye contact with him, terrified he might be able to perform wandless leglimency. Not that
he'd need to of course - he was excellent at reading her already. And she was hardly doing a
stellar job of feigning aloofness.

"Hermione. It had to be fairly significant if you really thought it had ruined our
friendship."

"Look, Harry! Do you really want to dredge this all up now?" *'Brilliant
misdirection!*' "After last night's *unpleasantness,* the last thing I want to
do is bring up any more. I mean," she swallowed hard, "I was just... just so unbelievable
*awful* to you. I don't know that I can ever be sorry enough for what I did."

"It's alright Hermione, and besides, I'm really the one who should be
apologizing."

"No... no Harry." She couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt.

"But it's true. Because of some stupid pride I almost lost my best friend. And
what's worse, I almost led her to do something stupid, *again."* There was a look of
pained guilt in his eyes that she recognized all too well.

"Harry," her voice was soft, yet stern, "just stop right there. You have to
understand, I was quite distraught last night, and to be completely honest, I wanted nothing more
than to hurt you because I was so upset. And because I know you so well - because I know the
burdens you've always carried with you - it was easy for me to do."

He didn't acknowledge her statement, but she realized he understood.

"And just because I said those vicious things to you... Harry... it's not..., it
isn't what I *feel*. I knew what I was doing then. I knew the dangers of going to the
Ministry, and I still went anyway. What happened to me was not your fault. And that spell to make
these," she flashed her ring at him, "I did that not just for you, but for me and Ron as
well. Because I knew Harry, I knew that if anything were to happen to either one of us, that you
would find us. That you would find some way to save us if need be. Because that's what
you've always done. Being a hero, it's intrinsic for you. And even when I thought it may
have been reckless, it's something I've always admired in you."

He took her left hand in his, then turned her palm upward. The scar was still there, and his
finger traced it lightly. Her pulse began to quicken at this soft gesture. Then he looked directly
at her, and she could feel her heart race.

"Hermione," he said softly. "I never... ever... want to hurt you
again." A blush consumed her and it took all her resolve not to kiss him then and there.

"Just promise me that if I ever do anything to upset you again, if I'm ever a prat like
I've been these last few months, just promise me that you'll tell me. I don't always
know when I'm being an absolute git, and if my best friend can't tell me, then who
will?" He smiled at her and the butterflies in her stomach went berserk.

"I...," she found it a bit difficult to breathe, "I promise Harry."

"Because I don't want anything to come between us ever again." Much to his
surprise, he was finding it increasingly difficult not to kiss her then and there.

"Neither do I." And she smiled, then hugged him. She hoped he couldn't feel her
heart hammering against her chest.

He hugged her tightly, both glad and disappointed that the mild tension was broken.

"Right then, so let's spend the day together. Just you and me to make up for all this
mess." And he could feel her nod in agreement. Then she stood and he was sorry to let her
go.

She removed her cloak and kicked off her trainers, then began to unpack her handbag.

"Oh good, so you've decided not run away then." He joked, then flopped back onto
her bed.

"I was not running away... I.. I simply needed to get away for a bit."

"With all your luggage."

She blushed.

"Look, Hermione, I understand. But at least I didn't run away - I just went on
vacation," he teased.

"Harry," she turned to face him. "If you must know, when I woke up this morning,
I had no intentions of 'running away'. In fact, I had every intention of taking a hot
shower and talking to both you and Ginny to figure out what I'd done last night."

"And you needed your cloak and trainers to take a shower?"

"Well, no! Obviously not. It's just," and she blushed again. "Harry, how...
how did I get into *this?"* And she tugged at the hem of his Quidditch shirt.

And then Harry blushed. "Oh Hermione, surely you didn't think..."

"I couldn't remember *anything* Harry - but then, when I thought it through, I
figured nothing had happened and... look, just answer the question will you."

He gave a soft laugh, then propped himself up on his elbows.

"I brought you back here, transfigured your outfit back into your bedclothes, but then,
when I went to put you to bed, well, the stench of *'club'* was fairly prevalent on
you. I couldn't think of a proper cleansing charm, and I couldn't find anything else of
yours to sleep in. Ginny was already asleep, so I grabbed that shirt and did a switching
spell."

"A *switching* spell! Of course!" There was no mistaking the look of relief on
her face.

"Yeah, a switching spell." Harry was confused. She noted his expression and almost
found it funny.

"A *switching* spell Harry," she explained. "You switched my clothing for
your shirt."

"Well, yeah, I did," he answered, still not understanding.

"You switched my clothing Harry."

"Yeah..." he nodded his head, trying to prompt more of an explanation from her.

*"All* of my clothing Harry."

He blinked.

He blinked again.

Then comprehension dawned on him and a violent red blush washed across his face.

"So then my knickers would be where?" She enjoyed teasing him now.

"Um," he stammered, and she couldn't help but find it amusing. "They're,
um, that is to say, all of your clothes are in the laundry bin." And then he grabbed a pillow
and put it over his face, and Hermione had a good, long, genuine laugh - the first one in
months.

***********

A/N - Oh good Lord I should be working. I should have been working during the last couple of
hours instead of writing this, but sometimes, no matter how difficult it makes your life, you
simply have to focus on what you want to do, rather than what you have to do.

Well, at any rate, I hope you enjoyed this chap. I had thought I could wrap it all up in this,
but it was getting much too long (and maybe someday, when I have the luxury of time, I'll
actually re-edit this sucker). So, one more go and we should be done with this - the world's
longest songfic.

And I promise - this won't be like the other fic - this one will actually have a
confrontation. Really! I just never realized how much *baggage* they'd have to divest to
get there. Geez but they're a complicated lot!

:^)



10. Comprehension
-----------------

***********

**Comprehension**

It was a thoroughly embarrassed, but much happier Harry who left Hermione's room. He closed
the doors behind him to give her privacy while she prepared for that long and hot shower, and Harry
realized he desperately needed one as well. He began to cross the living area to his own room when
Ginny ambushed him from the couch.

"Ginny! Have you been waiting here all morning?"

"Harry please, it's hardly morning anymore, and no, I've not been here all this
time."

Harry looked at the clock on the mantle and was shocked to see it was nearly four in the
afternoon.

"Actually, I've been trying to study this," she held up a small book. "Seems
Fleur picked a date close to the First Harvest because she wanted the ritual of fruition performed.
Would have been bloody nice if someone had told me that *earlier!* And," Ginny sighed,
"seeing as how she's *French* and we are in *France*, we have to do the bloody
thing in her *native language!"*

"A spell of what?"

"A spell of fruition - basically it's a blessing that all the wedded couple's hopes
for the future will come to pass. It's mostly ceremonial, but it's represented by having us
each present them a seed and then making it grow in their hands. Then they collect the blooms and
it becomes part of her bridal bouquet."

"With everyone here for the wedding, I'd say that'd be an enormous
bouquet."

"Not really, it's just the wedding party and the parents. I'd ask Mum to help, but
she's still working on her gift of Weasley family charms to pass on to Fleur."

Harry looked at the coffee table, which was littered with some small and wilted flowers.

"I could do the bloody thing in English!" She said defensively, noting his
expression.

"Oh, um, actually, they don't look too bad," he lied.

"No, but they're supposed to look like this!" She jammed the book up towards him
and it showed pictures of a variety of large and colorful blooms.

Ginny smacked the book, *'101 Traditional Wedding Spells & Ritual Charms',*
down on the table, then set her wand down as well. She hopped up on her knees and placed her elbows
on the back of the couch so she was now facing Harry, who stood behind the couch.

"But never mind all of that. What happened with Hermione?" She looked at him, eager to
hear everything.

"Oh, she's fine now. Thanks for that potion by the way, made her feel much
better."

"No, I mean, did you two finally talk things out?"

"Well, yeah... yeah we did."

"And?" She pressed.

"And what?"

"Did you apologize for being such an absolute prat?"

Harry was taken aback for a moment.

"Well, yes, I suppose I did."

"So she forgave you!"

"Yes, I suppose she did. We're going out today to spend some time together. Hopefully
we can mend everything."

"Well I say you're rather fortunate. I don't know if I'd have forgiven you as
easily. In fact I might have hexed you within a few inches of your life after all of
that."

"It's not as if I did anything *really* horrible Ginny."

Ginny's jaw dropped.

"How can you *say* that!?"

Harry flinched as Ginny tried to hit him again.

"Honestly Harry, if I had said that to you, and you had done that to me, I don't know
that I could ever be your friend again."

"Said *what* Ginny?"

"What Hermione said to you, you git!"

It took Harry a moment, then something clicked. Whatever Hermione had said that night, she'd
told Ginny. And now Ginny thought that she'd told him!

*'What did you say that would make you think I was cross with you?'*

*'Well, um... I don't really remember exactly...'*

*'Right - she didn't "remember" my arse!'*

He'd have to be delicate about this. Make Ginny think that he knew what was going on and was
simply being obtuse about the whole matter. It would certainly be a test of his pre-auror skills to
say the least. What was it Hermione had mentioned? She thought he was cross with her all this
time.

"Well Ginny, you know, people say all sorts of things when they're upset."

"Upset?! Are you mental?!"

"I, er, just mean that it took me awhile to get over it."

"TO GET *OVER* IT! YOU'RE *OVER* IT?"

"Well yeah, I am now."

*'Okay, this isn't working! Think of something!!'*

"Honestly Ginny, what would you do if *your* best friend said that to
*you?"*

Ginny's eyes grew wide.

"Harry, *Luna* is my best friend!"

"Exactly! Wouldn't that upset you?"

"It's... it's hardly the same thing Harry, not to mention I'm sure Ron would
have an absolute seizure!"

*'Why would Ron have a seizure?'*

"Er, of course he would. I'm sure he'd not want anyone, even Luna, insulting his
sister like that."

She raised her eyebrows.

"Harry, I happen to be as tolerant as the next witch or wizard. I wouldn't consider it
an insult, per se. I'd just think Ron would be terribly upset. Of course, if I wasn't his
sister, he might find the whole thing somewhat attractive."

*'Attractive? Okay, now I'm thoroughly confused!'*

"But we're not talking about me! We're talking about you and Hermione! How could
you not respond to something like that?! All this time and not so much as a note? After everything
she said?"

Just then Hermione opened the doors to her room and crossed to the lavatories.

"Good morning Gin'," she said rather cheerfully.

"Don't... urgh, nevermind. So," she turned to face Hermione, "Harry here
tells me you two made up. And that he's *over* it!"

Harry watched carefully for her reaction.

"Um yes, yes we did." Her eyes got slightly wide and she gave an almost, but not
quite, imperceptible shake of her head. Then she gave a wide smile. "I'll be out in a bit.
Just need to shower."

"Great. When you're done, would you mind helping me with this?" She grabbed the
book and held it up.

"Fruition spell?"

"Yeah, in French no less."

"Not a problem. I happen to speak French. Let me shower first and I'll help you
out."

"Thanks Hermione."

Hermione went into the lavatory, and when the door clicked, Ginny slowly turned her head towards
Harry. She narrowed her eyes and Harry held his breath. They stayed locked in a staring contest
until Harry finally broke.

"Bollocks Ginny! What did she say!"

"Let me guess," she smirked, "*you* don't remember."

"Not at all! She tells me I was catatonic and she yelled at me to snap me out of it. She
also said she didn't remember what she *had* said, which is *obviously* not true
because she's *obviously* told you!"

Ginny cocked her head to the side. Then an evil grin that would have done Malfoy proud crossed
her face.

"So what if she has?"

"Just *tell* me Ginny." Harry was not used to pleading.

"Nope, sorry. Not my place to tell you." She seemed to be enjoying this far too much.
"But hopefully she'll tell you soon, because I may very well kill her myself if she
doesn't." Then she sank back on the couch and reopened her book, the conversation
obviously over for her.

Harry let out a frustrated sigh, then stalked off to his room to collect his things for a
shower.

***

"You're keeping something from me."

"What?!"

Harry reached past Hermione's arm, which was presently blocking the small jug of milk. He
grabbed it, then noticed the blanched expression on her face.

"The milk Hermione. You're keeping the milk from me." He held it up to show her
and there was no mistaking her visible relaxation.

"Honestly, what's gotten into you?"

"Oh, nothing." She gave a nervous smile. "Just a bit lost in thought is
all."

Harry looked at her, quite pleased that he could make her squirm like that. He didn't know
if Ginny had told her that he'd sussed out she was hiding something from him, but he knew if he
worked hard enough, he'd make her spill yet.

He poured the milk into his cup, stirred, then reached for another croissant. If nothing else,
staying at a luxury resort afforded them the ability to have breakfast at nearly 5 in the
afternoon.

"So, what do you want to do with the rest of the day?"

"Whatever you'd like Harry. I've been to Paris before, but seeing as how this is
your first visit, is there anything in particular you'd like to see?"

"I learned about the Louvre in primary school, but I imagine it's closing
soon."

"Actually, it's funny that you should mention that. I've never done it before, but
I've read that the Louvre is opened exclusively to witches and wizards after they've closed
to muggles. They remove the freezing charms from all the paintings and I've heard it's
quite the experience."

"That sounds excellent! Let's do that."

Hermione smiled with the oddest look in her eyes.

"What is it?"

"I think it's going to take a bit of getting used to - seeing you like this."

"Like what?"

"Oh, I don't know. Uncomplicated perhaps? It's just that I'm so used to you
being under constant threat of some kind that I can't recall ever seeing you just... just
Harry."

He grinned at her assessment.

"Well get used to it. I've spent far too long looking over my shoulder for one threat
or another. With the possible exception of the errant paparazzi, I hope that's pretty much over
and done with - at least while I get through auror training, anyway. I plan on focusing on the
things that are the most important - my friends and my future." He took her hand as he said
this, and he could detect the slightest hint of a blush cross her cheeks.

"Honestly Hermione, there was a significant amount of time there where I wasn't even
certain I *had* a future, let alone a career or possibilities. And as overwhelming as all of
that is, I'm really, *really* looking forward to it."

She gave a soft laugh, then placed her hand over his and gave a gentle squeeze. It made Harry
warm all over.

"Well I'm glad to hear it. It's certainly about time you had a 'happily ever
after', as it were."

"Oh, speaking of which," he was reluctant to let go of her hand, but had to in order
to reach into his pocket. "I've been meaning to give this to you," and he gave her a
small but heavy brass key.

"It's more ornamental than anything I suppose, seeing as how you can apparate directly
into the foyer."

"I... I don't understand."

He looked at her, worried.

"The flat Hermione. You... you still did want to share a flat with me and Ron, didn't
you?" There was no mistaking the apprehensive tone of his voice.

When she didn't say anything, he grew more concerned. Then she mumbled something he
didn't quite catch.

"What was that?"

She was staring at the key, her eyes shining.

"I... I thought you'd changed your mind."

"Why on earth... oh, I guess because of everything else. Hermione, again, I am
so..."

"No, don't. Don't apologize again. I think the both of us could spend a significant
portion of the next few days apologizing back and forth, and I think we *both* realize how
sorry the other is, so why go through all of that?" She smiled at him again and his heart
swelled.

"Thank you Harry, really. But I thought, since you've been on vacation and all... I
mean, when did you find the time to locate a flat?"

"Actually I didn't. Dobby found it for us."

"Dobby?"

"Yeah. I told him what we needed - three large rooms and someplace big enough to store all
of your books." She gave that soft laugh again. "A wizarding community somewhere in
central London, hopefully close to Diagon Alley. He brought me pictures that I'll have to show
you, but I think he did an excellent job."

"I'm certain he did."

He smiled back at her, and they stayed like that, smiling at one another, for quite some time.
And then after a moment, Hermione's stomach let loose a significant growl.

"Oh dear!" She looked slightly embarrassed. "I guess I'm more hungry than I
thought."

"Considering I vanished most of your dinner last night and this morning, it's hardly
surprising."

She laughed, and then almost immediately grew quiet.

"That was *you* this morning?"

"Well yeah. I could hardly let you alone in that condition. I didn't know how sick
you'd be."

"I don't know why... I thought it must have been Ginny, and that you had just come in
closer to when I finally woke up."

"Hardly. You know, my transfiguration skills could use some serious help. Even though I
transfigured that chair in your room, it was still fairly uncomfortable to sleep on."

"You... you slept there *all* night?"

"Of course," and he blushed. "I just wanted to make certain you were
alright."

It was Hermione's turn to blush.

"Um... thanks Harry," and then she suddenly found her plate of food much more
interesting.

***

"And then I says, 'Signore Leonardo.' I says, 'what if I only smile like
*this?'* Well, I guess he must have liked that one, because that's how I stayed. Mind
you, it's a real pain to have to stay frozen with that same smile every day! Wish I had thought
of that before opening my big mouth!"

The assembled group of wizards and witches gave an appreciative laugh as Harry and Hermione
walked past.

"Hermione," Harry piped up as they walked past. "Isn't that...?"

"Yes, but she's always got a crowd around her. Being the most famous painting here
makes it terribly difficult to get a good look at her anyway. Besides, I wanted to show you
this."

Harry looked up at a painting further down the hall and opposite from the famed Mona Lisa. It
depicted a pale, almost sad looking woman who was being embraced and kissed by an equally pale man
with wings. It was one of the few paintings in the wing that wasn't moving.

"Is that meant to be an angel?"

"No, it's Cupid. See the quiver on his back. And that's Psyche."

"I don't understand. If he's kissing her, then why does she look so sad?"

"It's because she doesn't know he's there. He's invisible to her at that
moment. It's actually 'Psyche receiving the first kiss of love.'"

"But, if he's giving her a first kiss, and he's in love with her no less, then why
is he invisible?"

"He's not meant to love her, but he does. Did you notice he isn't even really
touching her? He just hovers there. In the story they actually get married, but she's never
allowed to see him. And then her sisters get involved and there's tremendous suffering when he
leaves her..."

"But he loves her!"

"Yes, but she violates his trust."

"So he just left her?!" Harry was incredulous.

"There's quite a lot of misery like that in Greek mythology. She ends up having to
endure all these horrible tasks to be worthy of him again, but he never stops loving her.
Eventually they do have one of the happier endings in mythology. She becomes immortal and
they're happily together forever."

She gave a small sigh.

"The first time I saw this painting I was seven, and I didn't know the entire story. I
just knew that he loved her, and that she couldn't see him. I've actually thought of this
painting quite a bit over the years. It's like a spot of hope really. Somewhere out there,
whether we know it or not, someone might love us that much."

Harry continued to quietly stare at the painting, trying to see all that Hermione did. The girl
looked so terribly alone, sitting mostly naked in a green field, vulnerable and afraid. What if she
had known that love was right there the entire time. That she really wasn't alone at all. Would
she have felt so terrible then?

"I know... that must sound rather silly."

"No... not at all. I've just never heard that story before."

"There's actually quite a few pieces here dedicated to them. I just wanted to show you
this one, because it's one of my favorites."

And knowing it was one of her favorites gave Harry a deeper appreciation for the painting.

***

They spent more than four hours walking the halls of the Louvre. At one point, while resting on
a bench to speak with one of the many portraits, Hermione came up the brilliant idea of casting
cushioning charms on their trainers. That made their remaining time in the museum much more
enjoyable.

Despite the fact they were in another country altogether, quite a few of the vacationing wizards
couldn't help but recognize Harry. However, to their credit, they were neither rude or
intrusive. They merely shared words of thanks and congratulations, and Harry had learned to be ever
the gentleman when it came to accepting compliments gracefully.

They took a moment to chat with one couple and their young daughter, when the little girl had
come running up to Hermione, proclaiming that she wanted to grow up to be just like her. Quite
stunned at such open praise, Hermione had to follow Harry's lead in graciousness.

The girl's family had come chasing after her, at first uncertain as to why their child had
run towards this stranger. But, as they realized who Harry and Hermione were, they couldn't
help but admonish their daughter for intruding on their privacy.

"Oh no, it's quite alright, really." Hermione couldn't help but defend her
small admirer.

"I'm really so sorry Miss Granger, Mister Potter," the mother scooped up the girl
in her arms. "It's just that she's, well, that is to say, we've *all*
followed the events of the last few months rather closely."

"And now that," the father stammered, "well, since you managed to pretty much
save the world..."

"It's all little Evie can talk about," the mother explained. "How she wants
to go to Hogwarts and be smart like that Head Girl who helped save Harry Potter." She smiled
and the little girl beamed and nodded vigorously at Hermione, which caused her to blush
furiously.

"Well, um," Hermione paused, "I don't know that I..."

"She doesn't know that she'd have been able to do it without reading all those
books of hers." Harry spoke directly to Evie. "You know, she really has saved my life,
several times in fact, and it's because she worked really hard on her studies. Not to mention
that she's terribly brave as well." Harry smiled at Hermione, and she couldn't help
but smile back. "I could never have defeated You-Know-Who without her help." Harry
refrained from spooking her with Voldemort's name.

"Really?" Evie's eyes grew wide.

"Really."

"Wow!"

They spoke for a short while after that, Harry explaining that it was his first time in Paris,
and the couple offered a host of suggestions for wizarding establishments and venues to see.
Hermione spoke with Evie, encouraging her to remain steadfast in her studies, then perhaps one day
she might be Head Girl as well. Before they parted ways both Harry and Hermione signed Evie's
map of the Louvre, causing the little girl to go stark quiet with admiration.

"That's... that's not happened to me before," Hermione said softly as they
walked away.

"What, you mean the awestruck compliments of strangers?" Harry laughed.

"No... that is, I'd gotten some things in the post, you know, words and thanks and
such. It's just... that little girl."

"That was sweet, the way she came running up to you like that."

"But... but she said she wanted to grow up to be just like me."

"So what's wrong with that?" Harry teased.

"Well, I mean, what's so great about *me?"*

Harry laughed again, and Hermione still held a puzzled expression.

"You're joking, right?"

"What? No.. no I'm not." She was still quite shocked.

Harry sighed, then stopped walking and turned to face her. He grasped her shoulders lightly and
stared directly at her.

"Hermione."

"Y-yes..."

"You know how you're always telling me not to feel guilty about everything all the
time?"

"Yes."

"Well, now I'm telling you, stop feeling that you're somehow not worthy."

"But... but I'm not. Not of things like that."

"Hermione, you said it's silly of me to feel guilty all the time."

"Well it is."

"Right - and it's the same thing with you feeling somehow less than remarkable. You
have to know, you *are* remarkable, in so many ways. I wasn't joking with that little
girl, you really are *remarkably* smart and *remarkably* brave. I'm honored to have
such a *remarkable* friend."

"But..."

"No - no more discussion on the matter. I've given up my guilt. That means you have to
give up your self doubt."

It took a moment for Hermione to think on this, and in the meantime Harry grasped her hand and
resumed their walk.

"C'mon Hermione. After all those places that couple mentioned, I'm dying to see how
many more things we can manage tonight."

She let go of his hand and knelt to tie her shoes.

"Hang on a bit Harry."

But he wouldn't be deterred. He began to playfully whine at her.

"Her-miiiii-oooneeee! Hurry up then!" He rocked back on his heels, practically
bouncing. "There's so many things we're still meant to do."

He stopped suddenly.

*'...so many things we're still meant to do....'*

Where had he heard that before?

*'...so many things we're still meant to do....'*

He had heard it before, he was certain. And it was terribly important... why couldn't he
remember?

Hermione pulled her laces tightly in a double knotted bow, then spoke to him like a mother
supplicating a small child.

"Alright then Harry. What is it you said? So many things we're still meant to do
then?"

His head snapped at her when she said this.

*'There's so much I've left to tell you, so many things we're still meant to
do.'*

*She* had said it!

Hermione noted the pale, wide eyed expression on his face as she stood.

"H-Harry?" And he could see a spark of fear in her eyes. "Harry!" She
gripped his shoulders and her voice became raised. "Are you alright?!"

For just a moment, he saw Hermione. But instead of standing in the museum, he saw her standing
outside in the night, lit only by the moon. She was crying and screaming at him. Then he blinked
and she was just as she'd been before.

"I... I'm sorry Hermione. Just got lost in thought there for a moment." She
released a heavy sigh and her head drooped forward.

"Harry... don't, don't do that again. You gave me a fright." Her tone was
relieved with just a hint of fear.

"Sorry about that," he gave her a calming smile. "C'mon then, let's
go." And he held out his hand to her. She took it and they walked out of the museum.

***

A few hours later found Harry and Hermione resting on a bench along the Rive Gauche. After
hitting quite a few lesser known wizarding shops and tourist haunts, they had stopped at the cart
of a street vendor and were now enjoying freshly made apple crepes. They had set their bags of
sundry purchases down and watched the city lights reflecting off the surface of the Siene.

"Hermione?"

"Yes Harry."

"I think there's something you should know."

She finished her crepe and dabbed at her mouth with a napkin, then turned to face him.

"And what is that Harry?"

"It's about these," he picked up her left hand and held his alongside, indicating
their rings.

"What about them?"

"Did you know, when you were making them, about their other properties?"

"*Other* properties? What do you mean?"

Harry sighed.

"You don't know then? I thought it might be some sort of fail safe, you know, if you
*really* needed to be certain that the wearer was still alive."

"Harry, what on earth are you on about?"

"Alright," and he took a deep breath. "What I said to you this morning, about
having a good understanding of how you were feeling?"

She looked uncomfortable, but nodded.

"Well, it wasn't just because I was really good at empathizing with your situation. I
actually, I mean, quite literally, *knew* what you were feeling."

"I don't understand."

"Right, you know how we concentrate to find each other?"

"Yes."

"Have you ever tried concentrating *past* that?"

"*Past* that?"

"I know, I'm not explaining this right." He was beginning to get frustrated.
"Imagine you're looking for me, and you start to get those flashes, and then you apparate.
Well, what if you kept focusing your concentration on me?"

"Why would I do that?"

"Well, what if I were someplace too dark to see? Or what if I were unconscious?"

"I imagine it'd show you the last thing the person saw."

"It does, but if you concentrate just a bit harder," he took a breath, "alright,
please, just promise not to get too upset with me."

She raised an eyebrow, but he refused to continue without her assent.

"I promise I'll... I'll do my best."

If that was the only assurance she could give him, he'd have to hope for the best. In the
interest of self preservation Harry decided to be extremely selective about what he told her next.
In fact, he decided it was best that he not mention when he first discovered the other qualities of
their rings.

"First, you have to understand I was desperate to find you last night."

She nodded, then shifted uncomfortably.

"And when I couldn't find you in the club at first, I was afraid I might have missed
you. So I concentrated, and I think, because I was worried, I think I concentrated a bit too
hard."

"Too hard?"

"You know how," he stammered a bit, "how *powerful* my magic can be
sometimes, especially if I'm upset?"

"So I'm lucky not to be bobbing around the Eiffel Tower like a balloon then," she
joked, trying to ease his obvious discomfiture.

It took him a moment to realize what she meant, then he broke into a relieved grin before
continuing.

"Hermione, I think these rings, they do much more than you think they can. They not only
link us for apparation, but I think they link us like in leglimency, but not exactly the same
way."

"Y-you... you don't mean you could read my mind?" She went deathly pale.

"No... oh no!" He quickly reassured her. "It's not as specific as that! I
mean, you designed them so we could see each other's point of view. Well, with a bit of a push,
I also managed to *feel* from your point of view."

"Wh-what?"

"It's like some type of empathy I imagine. I could not only see from your point of
view, but I could feel everything you were feeling. But look, I'm not very good at explaining
this. Maybe you should just try and see for yourself."

He could see she was torn between the embarrassment of it over the sheer academic curiosity.
Eventually the curiosity must have won out, because he hadn't been reduced to a pile of
ash.

"Alright then, show me how."

"Just pretend you're looking for me, but once you get the images, just keep
concentrating."

She turned her ring and closed her eyes, then furrowed her brow in concentration. Harry could
see the topaz in his ring flicker. She stayed that way a bit longer, then opened her eyes in
disappointment.

"It didn't work."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes I'm sure! Unless you're feeling exactly the same way I am, which I highly
doubt."

Harry meant to question her on that statement, then decided he best not, for right now his heart
was beating a bit faster than normal, his palms were somewhat clammy and those damn butterflies in
his stomach had been with him since he woke up. He remembered once, the first time he had
discovered this hidden quality, that Hermione was experiencing something quite similar to him, but
that was a long time ago, and right now, he imagined she was operating under some sort of
controlled anger, which was quite different than what he was feeling.

He sighed.

"Maybe we're too close to one another or something."

"But that should make them work better, not worse."

"What if you try Ron?"

Again, that conflict washed across her face. She most likely didn't want to intrude on
Ron's feelings, but at the same time her curiosity was undeniable.

"Oh, alright then." She twisted her ring to the sapphire, then tried again.

Harry watched her, her brow knit in concentration, and he couldn't help but think how cute
she looked at the moment. He sat serenely watching her, completely unnoticed. Then Hermione gave a
startled shriek that made his heart nearly leap from his chest as she jumped up from the bench.

"Oh no... oh ewww... blehhh!" Hermione was shaking her hands frantically while pacing
in small and tight circles.

"What happened?!"

"Oh Harry, that is just so... it's just so *wrong!"*

"Did it work?"

"Oh it worked, all too well!"

"What did you feel?"

Her face twisted up in a pained expression.

"Was it that bad Hermione?" Harry became quite worried.

She nodded her head vigorously.

"Were... were you hurt? Are you alright?"

"No... no I'm fine! I mean, I'm *not* fine - I'm most likely scarred for
life though!"

Harry let out a sigh of relief.

"So what happened?"

That pained expression returned to Hermione's face, then she looked at Harry.

"We're never to speak of this again! Is that understood?"

Harry nodded, the curiosity killing him.

"Let's just say, that I now have much more...," she squeezed her eyes shut,
"*intimate* knowledge of Luna, and how she *effects* Ron!"

Harry was quiet, then Hermione opened her eyes again and looked at him.

"EWWW," they both groaned in unison.

***

After Harry and Hermione spent another hour talking about anything and everything to burn the
images of their two friends from their minds, the subject slowly came back around to their
rings.

"I wonder why you couldn't get it to work on me," Harry asked her.

"I don't know. I was wondering that myself. Maybe you've spent so much time
learning how to block things like that, that maybe you just do it unconsciously all the time
now."

"Hmm, hadn't thought of that." They continued to walk back towards the hotel.

"What if I concentrate on lowering my defenses? Then maybe it would work then?"

"Would you mind?"

"No, not at all. I mean, I'm the one who intruded on you initially. It's only fair
you get the chance to do the same."

"And at least I know you're not in a compromising position with Luna."

"Ewwww," they said in unison again.

"Alright Harry, let's give it a go then." They stopped walking and Hermione
dropped her bags then pulled out her wand. She spoke the incantation, then put her wand away and
concentrated.

Harry stared at her, then lightly grabbed both her hands and concentrated as well.

It took a moment, then, in a soft voice, "Harry, I don't think it's
working."

Harry opened his eyes and looked at her, her brows still knit.

"Really?"

She gasped, then opened her eyes and looked at him.

"You alright?"

"I'm... I'm fine."

"So it didn't work then?"

"Um.. no. No I guess not," she said, almost a bit too quickly. "I guess we can
try again later." She smiled, then quickly changed the subject.

***

It was already well past 2am by the time they found their way back to the hotel. As much as
Harry would have loved to stay out later, they had both agreed to try and get as much rest as
possible for the wedding the next day. Harry had such an enjoyable time the entire evening that he
nearly forgot he had meant to wheedle out Hermione's little secret.

*'Oh well, if she doesn't tell me here, at least I'll have time to work it out of
her back in London.'*

He smiled, then unlocked the doors to the suite, only to find Ron and Luna snogging on the sofa,
oblivious to their entrance.

Harry and Hermione exchanged pained grimaces, then decided it best not to disturb them.

"Goodnight then Harry. Thank you for this evening," she whispered.

"Thank you Hermione. I'm glad I could make it up to you," he whispered back.

Then she leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek, and, much to the dismay of the flutters in
his stomach, she lingered there. Her breath was hot against his ear and he could feel himself flush
all over.

"Sweet dreams Harry." Then she slowly pulled back and looked at him, her eyes dark.
Then she turned and went to her room.

"Sw-sweet dreams Hermione," he stammered back, his heart pounding in his chest.

He watched her go into her room, then turn and smile at him as she slowly shut the doors.

In his entire life, he had never gone weak in the knees before. Now he knew what that felt like.
He waited a moment for the rapid staccato of his pulse to slow, then he walked to his own room.

He was tempted, oh so tempted to use his ring now. He wanted to know what she was feeling, if
she was feeling anything like he was right now. He was also tempted to rush across the living area,
fling the doors to her room open and just snog the hell out of her right then and there. However,
Ron and Luna were right there, literally in his way, and even though he was a Gryffindor, he lacked
the necessary courage to make such a bold move so soon.

*'It has been seven bloody years mate!'* A voice much like Ron's piped up in
his mind.

*'But what if I'm wrong?'*

*'But what if you're not?'*

*'But... I mean, am I in love with Hermione? Is that what's going on
here?'*

*'Dunno mate, but I do know she's quite the sight for sore eyes in that little number
she had on last night!'*

*'Hey!'*

*'Well it's true! Don't tell me you were so busy playing hero that you didn't
notice that?'*

*'That's... that's none of your business!'*

*'I'm you mate! Of course it's my business!'*

*'Alright then, but this didn't all start because I saw her in some tight little
outfit!'*

*'But it didn't hurt either, did it?'*

*'Shove off!'*

*'Alright then, when did it start?'*

*'I... I don't know. I mean, she's been my best friend forever.'*

*'And you're sure it has nothing to do with that outfit?'*

*'I don't like her just because of the way she looks. If it were all about looks
I'd go for someone like Ratia. But with Hermione, she's... she's
everything.'*

*'Everything?'*

*'Everything! She's beautiful and she's smart, witty, funny - just about the
bravest person I know. And I don't even know where to begin when it comes to everything
she's done for me.'*

*'Well that sounds pretty bad mate... could be fatal!'*

*'Fatal I can handle. I've been living with 'fatal' for most of my life.
Don't know if I can handle love though.'*

*'Not much experience, eh mate?'*

*'Plus, what if I ruin everything? What if I scare her off? It's not like we're in
school anymore. I have no guarantees that I'll be able to see her from one day to the
next.'*

*'Well yes, there is that.'*

And feeling somewhat defeated, Harry dressed for bed. He got comfortable under a mass of
blankets and pillows, then let his mind wander some more.

*'Wonder what she's keeping from me though?'*

As he drifted off to sleep he remembered that glimpse he'd gotten in the museum. Hermione
crying and yelling... screaming at him. He could hear her, and he wanted so desperately to comfort
her. To let her know that he was alright. But he couldn't, and so she stayed there, holding him
and crying.

And then, somewhere between waking and dreaming, Harry remembered. Harry remembered
everything.

*************

A/N - So sorry, really! I did mean to wrap this all up in this chapter, but, again, the amount
of baggage these two have is phenomenal! I really needed them to get back to themselves before
sealing the deal, as it were. Please don't hate me, but we've one more go 'round
kids!



11. Nascence
------------

A/N - My deepest apologies for the formatting error - it looks fine in Safari and it's total
crap in I.E. - flippin' Microsoft! Anyway, this should fix it, apologies again.

-

A/N - No - it's not deja vu all over again - only the first few lines are the same...

*************

Nascence

After Harry and Hermione spent another hour talking about anything and everything to burn the
images of their two friends from their minds, the subject slowly came back around to their
rings.

"I wonder why you couldn't get it to work on me," Harry asked her.

"I don't know. I was wondering that myself. Maybe you've spent so much time
learning how to block things like that, that maybe you just do it unconsciously all the time
now."

"Hmm, hadn't thought of that." They continued to walk back towards the hotel.

"What if I concentrate on lowering my defenses? Then maybe it would work then?"

"Would you mind?"

"No, not at all. I mean, I'm the one who intruded on you initially. It's only fair
you get the chance to do the same."

"And at least I know you're not in a compromising position with Luna."

"Ewwww," they said in unison again.

"Alright Harry, let's give it a go then." They stopped walking and Hermione
dropped her bags then pulled out her wand. She spoke the incantation, then put her wand away and
concentrated.

Harry stared at her, then lightly grabbed both her hands and concentrated as well.

Hermione knit her brow in serious concentration. Earlier when she had tried this with Harry, she
thought she had felt a glimmer of something - a slight shift in her perspective perhaps. But the
sensations, the emotions, hadn't changed at all. She was still a bit upset that he hadn't
told her about this hidden quality of the rings earlier, but her initial anger had already
disappeared. Now it was back to the constant quickening of her pulse and fluttering of her stomach
whenever she was this close to him. Her palms were cold and slick from perspiration, and when Harry
had taken her hands into his, it made her heart hammer inside her chest.

Then she felt that almost imperceptible shift again, as if something were different, but when
she noted her physiological reactions, they were just the same - nervous... contented...
excited...

"Harry, I don't think it's working."

Harry opened his eyes and looked at her, her brows still knit.

And Hermione saw herself from Harry's perspective. She saw herself with her brow furrowed in
effort and her eyes closed in deep concentration. The perspective was slightly higher, accounting
for his height, and when she realized that she was literally seeing through his eyes, she did a
cursory check of her physical state.

Her heart was hammering, as was his.

Her hands were slightly clammy, as were his.

And the fluttering of her stomach, that lurch of excitement it gave whenever she was this close
to him, she could feel it. But it wasn't just her, it was him as well.

He was feeling what she was...

'Oh Merlin is that possible!?' She was afraid to hope as much. It was wishful
thinking. It had to be! Didn't it?

'He's feeling what I'm feeling! I'm certain of it! If I can see myself
through his eyes, I... I must be tied into him just like he said I would be!' She was
trying to analyze everything as quickly as possible, both excited and afraid that she was
right.

'This is what it felt like to be tethered into Ron! I could feel everything he did, but I
could distinguish it because it was so disparate from my feelings. No wonder I didn't know it
was working before,' she rationalized.

'Oh Merlin, Harry - are you really this excited to be holding my hands?' And
that thought made her positively giddy.

"Really?" Harry asked, snapping her out of the connection.

She gasped, then opened her eyes and looked at him. She felt as if she'd been caught with
her hand in the cookie jar. Her eyes were wide in astonishment.

'It's actually possible,' she thought. 'Everything I've ever
hoped for Harry, everything I want to share with you... it's... it's actually
possible!' She still couldn't believe it.

"You alright?"

"I'm... I'm fine."

'I'm more than fine... I'm bloody spectacular.'

"So it didn't work then?"

'Yes Harry, it did work! And I love you! I've always loved you for as long as I can
remember!'

She could suddenly feel the weight of the brass key in her pocket, and it made her pause.

'No... not quite yet. Just because he's a bit excited doesn't mean he's
ready to declare his undying love. I have to be certain this time, and I can't just risk
driving a wedge between us again, not now! I'll just have to be a bit more subtle, to give him
a chance to realize what's going on. Just a bit more... I can stand it now that I know
there's actually hope!'

"Um.. no. No I guess not," she said, almost a bit too quickly. "I guess we can
try again later." She smiled, then quickly changed the subject.

***

It was already well past 2am by the time they found their way back to the hotel. As much as
Hermione would have loved to stay out later, they had both agreed to try and get as much rest as
possible for the wedding the next day.

Hermione was thankful that he hadn't pressed her about what she'd said that night in the
forest. Ginny had warned her that he meant to try, and she had been bracing herself all evening.
But either he forgot or was willing to let it go, because, excepting that one attempt at their late
breakfast, he hadn't mentioned it again.

He smiled, then unlocked the doors to the suite, only to find Ron and Luna snogging on the sofa,
oblivious to their entrance.

Harry and Hermione exchanged pained grimaces, then decided it best not to disturb them.

"Goodnight then Harry. Thank you for this evening," she whispered.

"Thank you Hermione. I'm glad I could make it up to you," he whispered back.

'Alright then, let's see how subtle I can be.'

Hermione leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. But rather than pull back, she lingered
there, her cheek softly touching his. She took a breath, then released it slowly over his ear
before speaking.

"Sweet dreams Harry." Then she slowly pulled back and looked at him, her eyes dark.
She tried her best to read his reaction, which seemed somewhere between stunned and excited. Then
she turned around and walked to her room.

'Definitely a good sign.'

"Sw-sweet dreams Hermione," he stammered back.

She literally felt him watching her as she went to the room. She turned and looked at him, then
smiled while slowly shutting the doors.

'Oh yes, absolutely a good sign!'

She turned and leaned against the door, a contented sigh escaping from her.

She was tempted, oh so tempted to use her ring now. She wanted to know what he was feeling -
exactly what he was feeling. But that wouldn't be right. It wouldn't be fair to either one
of them. If there was to be any relationship between them of a romantic nature, then she preferred
that it happen without needing to delve into his mind every time she needed assurance of her next
move.

No - best to let nature take it's course.

Besides, she had already declared her undying love to him once, and, admittedly through no fault
of their own, it had only led to two months of misery.

'No, let him do it this time. If we're meant to be together, then it will happen.
I'm certain of that now. And even though he can be as obtuse as Ron sometimes, I know Harry got
the full meaning of my interest just now. It was written all over his adorable face!'

She performed a quick twirl in her excitement like any other happy young girl in love, then
threw herself down on the bed. She let out another contented sigh, then grabbed a pillow, the same
one Harry had used earlier, and squeezed it tightly to herself.

'I'm in love with Harry Potter!'

Then she broke out into a huge grin and got ready for bed.

She put her clothes away, changed into the Quidditch shirt that Harry had left behind (the mere
presence of it causing her to positively glow with excitement) then buried herself into the mass of
pillows and blankets - the grin never leaving her face.

As she drifted off to sleep, all her thoughts were of Harry - all the possibilities for the
future, all her dreams come true. How she had been able to deny herself so long, to keep being his
friend and nothing else these last few years, astounded her. But that was in the past... all in the
past...

Her thoughts drifted back to that awful, awful night she had found him. When every possible
future seemed to end in a single moment.

And as she shifted in her bed, the memories of that night playing out in stunning detail and
accuracy, the emerald of her ring flared to life.

Neither one of them would ever be aware of what happened, but as Hermione remembered, so did
Harry.

***

"Harry, wake up!"

"...err..."

"I said WAKE UP!"

"...mmm..."

"HARRY!"

"...'mione...?"

"What was that?"

"....hermione...?"

"Her this time?"

Harry squinted and saw the blurred shape of Ron sitting above him.

"You alright then Harry?"

"Wha... why?" He was having the most difficult time trying to wake up.

"You were moaning and kicking about. I was coming to wake you anyway, but I thought you
might be having another one of those dreams."

'Those' dreams had been various nightmarish replays of the final battle, always with
differing endings that usually involved either himself or a variety of his closest friends dying in
front of him. Ron had spent a good number of nights shaking Harry awake from those dreams
throughout the last two months.

Harry slowly worked his way up into a sitting position, then rubbed his face vigorously.

It had started as one of those dreams. He was in the forest again, only this time, he destroyed
Voldemort. His first thoughts were that he was simply recalling the events of that evening. Usually
the next thing he would remember would be venting his rage into the remains of his enemy. But
that's not what happened this time.

He tried to move, but couldn't. He was standing in the clearing, frozen in shock after
finally defeating Voldemort. Absolute exhaustion, coupled with the realization that the prophecy
and his entire purpose in life had been fulfilled, left him utterly hollow.

He stood there, completely devoid of everything. There was nothing left to do, nothing left to
live for. He'd completed his ultimate task in life. He was finished.

He was content to stay in this numbing void, protected from the rest of the world and all
it's pain.

He was only vaguely aware of the loud popping sound of someone apparating nearby. Then he saw
her, a girl he thought he should know. He watched in disinterest as she stepped towards the
smoldering remains, and he thought she said something, but he wasn't paying attention. She
merely happened to be in his field of vision.

Then she backed from the fallen enemy towards him, saying something again. She turned around,
her face glowing in the moonlight, and Harry felt a flicker of something - recognition? Emotion?
She was shouting, and then she threw her arms around him and he felt her warmth.

'Hermione.' The name came floating to the surface.

Then she was looking at him closely, her expression rapidly changing from happiness to
uncertainty to fear to panic. She began to shout at him.

He wanted to stay buried in this numbing cocoon. Why wouldn't she let him alone?

Then he saw her tears.

'Don't cry.'

She was pleading with him, and he couldn't bear to see her so upset.

'Please don't cry Hermione.'

And the pain of more emotions began to shake him loose and suddenly he could hear what she was
saying. He wanted to reach out to her, to let her know that he was alright, but he couldn't -
his body simply wouldn't respond.

"Harry, I've meant to tell you. So many times I wanted to tell you. I'm in love
with you Harry!"

'Love?'

What was that? Certainly it was something he should know - something he should remember.

"I have been for ages - so YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME NOW!!!"

But he wanted to leave, so badly. He'd been through too much, and he had nothing left to
give.

"Please Harry."

Her voice was soft, filled with sadness and desperation. It hurt him to think of her like
that.

"I love you."

'No one loves me. I've not known love. I have no memory of love.'

She kissed him, and memories of her stirred. He could see her seated in a chair, her nose buried
in a book. She was laughing at something he'd said. She was scowling at him for not doing his
homework.

"I love you." And she kissed him again.

She was beautiful in her dress robes. She was beautiful with her beaming smile and pale face and
frizzed hair. She was beautiful.

"Please...," and he felt her hands tenderly hold his face while she gave him one last,
soft kiss.

"I love you Harry." Then she was holding him tightly, her body shaking as she
cried.

And at that moment he thought of the future. A future without fear. A future with love. A future
with friends and work and Quidditch and...

He could hear her tormented cries.

A future with Hermione.

Her friendship. Her laughter. Her smile. Her eyes.

Tears slipped down his face and he suddenly knew.

'I love you Hermione.'

And with that realization a floodgate of emotions were released. Everything he'd kept
bottled up his entire life - all his pain and agony - came bursting from within.

He released an anguished cry. Then he tried to kill Voldemort again and again. And when he was
done... when he was done he crumpled to the ground, his fury spent, and cried.

He cried for everything he'd lost, everyone taken from him. He cried for the life and family
that was stolen away and he cried for the life he'd been forced to live.

He was alone and he cried for his mother's arms in the dark, knowing that she would never
come again.

He was alone - all alone.

And then Hermione was there, and he remembered love.

"Hermione."

"Was it bad this time?"

"What?" Harry looked up at Ron, forgetting that he'd been there.

"The dream. Was it really bad this time?"

It took Harry a moment to realize what Ron meant, then he stared at him. Everything else seemed
so inconsequential with what he'd just remembered.

"Ron, I'm in love with Hermione."

"What?!"

"I'm in love with Hermione."

Ron had a look of puzzled surprise on his face.

"Harry, you were dreaming."

"No, I wasn't. I was remembering."

"You remembered you're in love with Hermione?" He sounded skeptical.

"What? Yes! I mean, not exactly."

"I don't follow you."

Harry grabbed his glasses from the night stand, put them on and stared intently at Ron.

"Hermione's the reason I came back," he explained.

"Came back from where?"

"When I defeated Voldemort that night," Ron gave an involuntary wince, "it... it
took everything I had. Everything we had."

"I remember."

"When Hermione found me... I don't know how to explain it Ron, but I was
gone."

"Gone?"

"I mean that I'd... I'd fulfilled everything I was supposed to. I was
done."

His voice softened as he said this.

"There was nothing left for me to do Ron. I was content to be finished. And then Hermione
found me."

"She said you were catatonic when she found you." Ron realized what Harry had meant
about being done, and a chill went down his spine.

"It was more than that I think. I couldn't feel anything - but worse, I didn't want
to feel anything. I wanted to be done and I didn't want to feel anything ever again."

Ron's eyes widened.

"When she found me, she... she brought me back Ron. She told me she loved me. She said she
was in love with me."

"She did!?"

"Yeah... yeah she did. I can hardly believe it myself."

There was a moment of reverent silence, then Ron snapped his head up.

"Wait, you're just remembering this now?!"

Harry nodded his head.

"Bloody hell Harry! It's been two months since that happened! Does she know you
didn't remember her saying it?"

Harry shook his head.

"So she thinks you've not said a word about it because you're some kind of
monumental git!?"

Harry hadn't realized that part until Ron mentioned it. He groaned and smacked his face with
both hands.

"Oh MERLIN! No wonder she was so hurt!"

"Hurt? Harry, you're lucky she didn't turn you into a toilet
brush!"

All those feelings he'd gleaned from her in the club - the feelings of hurt and loss and
total devastation. He had thought it was an amplification of her emotions brought on by the
alcohol. But now, now he realized the true nature of it. Suddenly everything from the last two
days, all the conversations and reactions, from both her, and Ginny - it was obvious she'd told
Ginny - it all made sense now.

Ron was right - he was rather fortunate not be a toilet brush at the moment.

So that's why she wanted to know what he remembered. That's what she'd said to him
and that's why she didn't want to tell him. It was no wonder she didn't want to repeat
it, considering what had happened. He could understand her obvious reluctance.

He jumped out of bed.

"Where is she Ron? I have to tell her! I have to tell her everything!"

"Calm down mate. She and Ginny and Luna are with Mum right now, having their hair done and
getting ready. That's why I came to wake you. We only have two hours before the
wedding."

"But I have to tell her I love her - that I'm in love with her too! I have to tell her
about what's happened."

"Well don't bloody well do it right now , Harry! You've got to get ready and then
there's the wedding."

"What do you mean not right now!? I've waited far too long as it is!"

"I understand that, believe me I do. But Harry, trust me when I say, you should really have
a bit of finesse with this."

"Finesse?" Harry was torn between listening to what Ron had to say and hunting down
Hermione. "What are you on about?"

"Look Harry, just take a moment here. I understand what you're going through, well,
mostly anyway. I know that when I realized I was in love with Luna... it was the most amazing thing
ever, and I couldn't wait to tell her. But I've learned quite a bit over the last year with
Luna, and if there's one thing I've learned above all else, it's that girls tend to
appreciate some romance. Bursting into my parents suite in your bedclothes while Hermione's in
rollers is probably not the most romantic thing you could do."

"But..."

"No Harry. If you're going to run off declaring undying love and all that lot, then you
should at least try and make it somewhat memorable, and not in an awkward way."

Harry was bursting with impatience.

"Look, just consider this. We're in Paris, the romance capital of the world. We're
at a wedding, the most romantic event of all. You have the absolute perfect setting for everything.
It's a very important, not to mention nerve wracking thing to tell someone you love them for
the first time. It's probably only second to proposing. So, all I'm saying is you should
put a little thought into it."

Harry's jaw was on the floor.

"What?" Ron had a hint of defensiveness in his voice.

"How... I mean... when... when did you learn all of this?" Harry was shocked.

"Honestly Harry, don't think that Hermione's comment about me having 'the
emotional range of a teaspoon,' was lost on me. I've grown a lot in the time I've been
with Luna. I've learned how not to put my foot in my mouth and I've also learned about what
does and doesn't go a long way with girls. And trust me when I say, romantic gestures, they
tend to go a long, loooong way." A lascivious smile crossed Ron's face, but it quickly
disappeared when he spoke about Hermione again.

"Harry, Hermione will appreciate it if she sees you put some thought and effort into this.
If you need to tell her this instant, believe me when I say that I understand. Sometimes I get
those impulses with Luna, she'll say or do something that just makes me feel like I want to cry
because I'm so happy with her," Ron blushed as he said this, and Harry was nice enough to
pretend he hadn't noticed. "So yes, I do understand. But she's going to remember
Harry, for as long as she lives she's going to remember the first time you told her that you
love her. And I happen to care very much for Hermione, so I think it should be special."

Harry let this all sink in, and he was amazed with Ron's advice and insight.

"Wow... you... you're absolutely right Ron."

"Well I know that!" Ron gave a cheeky smile and stood up. "So, just make the most
of it."

"Thanks."

"Anytime mate."

Ron patted his shoulder, then headed for the shower.

***

Hermione, Luna and Ginny hurried back to their suite, all dressed in hotel bathrobes with their
hair and makeup completed. They entered the lift to travel back down to the twelfth floor from the
Weasley's master suite.

"I meant to tell you earlier, thank you Luna."

"Whatever for?"

"For sending Harry to speak with me the other night."

"Yeah, thanks Luna. Otherwise I might have spent all night in that body bind." Ginny
shot a mock glare at Hermione.

"Well, once I saw Horatia with Harry on the cover of the Prophet, I knew I had to leave
Daddy and get here as soon as possible."

"Really?" Hermione asked.

"Please Hermione, it's obvious to all of us, well, all of us girls anyway, that you
have feelings for Harry."

"Don't forget the twins, I think they know too." Ginny agreed.

"And I think Ronald might suspect, even though he can be dim sometimes when it comes to
these things."

"And Mum's known for ages."

"Possibly Neville."

"Headmaster Dumbledore."

"Professor McGonagall."

"Hagrid of course."

"Sir Nicholas."

"The giant squid in the lake."

"STOP IT YOU TWO!" Hermione was only slightly annoyed at their perceptions, and even
mildly amused as the two girls gave her teasing smiles.

"The point is, I just wanted to thank you Luna, for whatever it is you said to Harry and
whatever it is you did to get him to talk to me. It's been a tremendous help."

"So, things have worked out then?"

"They're well on their way." A chesire-like grin lit her features.

"Yeah - did you know that Hermione told him that she loves him?"

"Really?" Luna's already large eyes grew wider.

"Yep, only Harry didn't remember. It was the night of the defeat and Hermione found him
all out of sorts and let loose on him."

"So have you reminded him yet?"

"No... no I haven't."

Both girls stared at her in amazement and Hermione flushed.

"It's just that things have been going so well. I didn't want to bollox them up
right now."

Luna quirked up an eyebrow.

"Honestly! I know what I'm doing." Hermione was defensive. "Plus, I have it
on fairly good authority that Harry's beginning to feel the same way."

"Beginning?" Ginny drawled.

"Apparently Ronald isn't the only dim one," Luna remarked.

"Hey!"

"No offense Hermione, but as obvious as your affections have been, so have
Harry's."

"Yeah, for quite a long while now." Ginny agreed.

"R-really?"

"He may not have realized it, but I'm fairly certain he's thought of you as more
than simply a friend for quite some time." Luna explained.

"Ages now, actually." Ginny agreed.

"You'll just have to learn, as I did with Ronald, with men, it simply takes some time
in these matters."

"And it is Harry after all. In addition to the usual dimness that guys seem to be born
with, he also had that whole 'Boy Who Lived and Will Probably Die This Time 'Round'
thing hanging over him. So, given that, I think we should make certain allowances for his
actions."

"But only up to a point. It's time for you two to move forward from
'friendship' towards the next thing."

"Yeah, because if you don't, the absolute tension of it is going to drive me
nutters!"

Hermione stood in silence as both girls looked at her. The doors to the lift opened and they
walked down the hallway.

"Um... thanks. The both of you."

"Hermione - I think we all feel that you two belong together." Luna offered.

"Absolutely, so get on with it already." And Ginny flashed her a warm and encouraging
smile.

They entered the suite and Hermione went to her room to change. She grabbed her pink dress robes
from the closet, a floor length A-line gown with a matching sheer cloak, and began to get
dressed.

'Well, at least everyone else thinks we should be together,' she thought. 'It's
good to know I'm not the only one.'

She smiled as she remembered the feelings and emotions she'd gleaned from Harry last night
and the way he had looked at her when she said goodnight.

'No... I'm definitely not the only one.' She smiled, then exited to the
living area to wait for everyone else.

***

Harry had finished dressing in his room and was now having a difficult time fastening his cloak
with the formal ornamental brooch. He tucked his wand into his deep green and black dress robes,
then decided to use the large mirror in the outer room to see what he was doing wrong.

He opened the doors to his room, and before he could turn to close them, he saw her standing
there.

She was facing the window, the sunlight streaming in and lighting her sheer cloak like a pink
gossamer aura surrounding the darker pink silhouette of her dress. Her hair had been pulled up, but
fell in soft large curls down her back. Then she must have heard his breath catch, because she
turned around suddenly, then broke into a small but beautiful smile as she realized it was him.

"Hi," she said, her voice soft and almost shy.

"Hi," he replied, his voice almost as soft. He felt a blush creep over his face as he
noted how stunning she looked. The sun now lit a golden halo around the edges of her hair and Harry
was briefly reminded of some fairy tale princess he'd once read about.

"You... you look very handsome in your formal wear," she said, that same hint of
shyness in her voice.

"You're beautiful," he blurted, then noted the pink touch her cheeks.

"Thank you Harry," she gave him that smile again, and Harry noted the soft and shiny
pink gloss on her lips.

He walked slowly towards her, his heart threatening to leap out of his chest the nearer he
got.

"Would... would you mind?" He held out the upper corner of his cloak in one hand and
the brooch in the other.

"Oh, not at all." She smiled again.

'No,' Harry noted, 'she's not stopped smiling, as I'm sure I
haven't.' And the thought caused him to grin even wider.

"What's made you so happy then?" She grasped both ends of the cloak around his
neck, standing mere inches from him as she concentrated on fastening the pin.

"You," he said, without thinking. He was trying his best to heed Ron's advice, he
really was, but she was so beautiful and so very, very close.

She fumbled with the pin, then slowly looked up at him.

"M-me?" Her eyes were wide and she stammered in a whisper.

Harry could only nod. He was torn between waiting for the perfect moment...

'This is it! This is good enough! Just tell her already!!!'

...and taking her up in his arms and kissing her madly.

'DO IT ALREADY!'

He could feel himself drawing near her, his eyes slowly beginning to close, and in return she
was pressing towards him, her head tilting up slightly...

"HERMIONE! I CAN'T FIND MY SHOES!!" Ginny screamed from her room.

She blinked rapidly, as if she had suddenly snapped out of a daze, and Harry drew back, startled
at the interruption. She gave a nervous smile, then turned around.

"I'll be right there Gin!"

"How many times do I have to tell you..."

"DON'T CALL YOU GIN!" Harry and Hermione shouted in unison, then laughed, the
nervous tension broken.

Hermione turned back towards him, focusing intently on clasping his cloak and brooch. She
managed to pin it properly, then smoothed his cloak down, her hands slowing and lingering as she
did so. Then she gave a small and nervous laugh, looked at him quickly, then went to help
Ginny.

Harry sighed and leaned against the window.

'Not quite the perfect moment then, but close.'

He noticed his ears were hot from blushing so intensely with the thought of what almost
happened. He walked towards the sinks and saw that his face nearly rivaled Weasley red, so he
gingerly splashed on some cold water, careful not to drench his robes.

"You alright mate?" Ron had come up behind him and reached for a brush to smooth down
his hair.

"Yeah... yeah I'm fine. Almost jumped the gun there."

Ron blinked, then caught his meaning.

"So much for waiting for the perfect moment," he mocked.

Harry told him about what had almost happened, and Ron couldn't help but sympathize.

"Almost the perfect moment anyway, had it not been for Ginny."

"Maybe you should wait until you have a bit more privacy Harry. The last thing you want is
to get interrupted again."

"Tell me about it." Harry rolled his eyes.

Ron fixed his deep blue velvet robes in the mirror, then grabbed his wand.

"Well, until that moment comes along, just remember all the other little things you could
be doing to help it along." Ron grinned, then picked up one of Ginny's discarded blooms
from the table. He transfigured it into a large deep orange begonia, then tapped on Luna's
door.

"You ready luv?"

"Just about Ronald."

She opened the doors and stood there in deep orange sparkling robes and wearing a smile she
reserved especially for Ron.

"You look gorgeous luv," he gave her a chaste kiss, careful not to smudge her makeup,
then offered her the bloom.

"Oh thank you." She took it both hands, then offered it back to him as she looked up.
"Would you mind?"

"Not at all."

He carefully fixed it into her hair and Harry suddenly remembered one of the many wedding
customs he had read about. All witches in attendance were expected to wear flowers of some kind.
Something to do with a new beginning or fertility or some other wedding thing like that.

He recalled that perfect image of Hermione by the window and remembered she didn't have any
flowers at all.

'Alright, how's this for a small romantic gesture?'

He grabbed some of Ginny's other wilted blooms, then tried to think of any of the myriad
number of flowers he was familiar with from Aunt Petunia's garden that would be worthy of
Hermione. He thought about her dress... how nice she looked in pink.

'Of course!'

Ginny and Hermione emerged from the room. Hermione was fastening Ginny's ornamental brooch
as well, while Ginny was fussing with the small clusters of unnaturally blue irises in her
hair.

"Doesn't Fleur know that I'm allergic to these things?!"

"Sorry Ginny, but it is her wedding. If all the attendants have to wear them, then so
should you."

Ginny sneezed.

"But I'm going to ruin her wedding if I keep sneezing like this!" Ginny's eyes
were beginning to water.

"You do have a point there," Luna agreed.

Ginny sneezed again.

"Hang on a moment," Hermione withdrew her wand, then stepped back from Ginny.

"Ginny, stand absolutely still."

"Why?" Her eyes narrowed at Hermione. "What are you going to do?"

"I think I can help this, just don't move."

Ginny squinched her eyes shut, then sneezed again.

"I said not to move."

"I'm sorry! That wasn't my fault!"

Hermione sighed.

"Okay, really this time, don't move." Ginny shot her a dirty look, then Hermione
cast a freezing charm at the flowers in her hair.

"What good will that do?"

"That was brilliant Hermione!" Luna cheered.

Harry and Ron looked at each other blankly, uncertain as to what Hermione had done.

"I've frozen the irises in your hair."

"Yes, but why?"

"Because it also froze the pollen in the irises. Depending on how long the charm lasts,
which should hopefully be a few hours yet, it should keep you from sneezing until well after the
ceremony."

Ginny looked skeptical.

"Well go on, try taking a deep breath."

Ginny did so, then waited for something to happen. No sneezing, no watering of her eyes.

"Hey!" She smiled in relief.

"It should also hold your hair too." Hermione grinned back at her.

"With you around, who needs Sleakeasys?"

"Wish I'd thought of that back in school."

"Ladies," Ron interrupted. "As fascinating as this all is, we really don't
want to be late." He pointed towards the clock on the mantle.

"Oh Ronald, you're right. Let's go then." Luna grabbed his hand and they began
to file out of the room.

"Oh wait, I've forgotten something!" Hermione turned around and nearly ran
straight into Harry.

"Wait," he stopped her. "Close your eyes."

"Wh-what?"

"Just trust me. Close your eyes."

She did, and then Harry placed something on her head. She opened her eyes, then quickly found
the mirror. A small wreath of pink stargazer lilies rested in her hair.

She turned to look at Harry, and he felt his heart swell again as she gave him another beautiful
smile. Then he held out his hand to her.

"Let's go then."

She smiled again...

'Not again. Still! She still hasn't lost that smile.'

...and took his hand as they walked out the door.

***

Ginny and Ron bid goodbye to Hermione, Harry and Luna as they were seated in the amphitheater.
They were fairly near the front along with the other close friends and family members. Hermione
took a moment to glance around at the phenomenal turnout. All sorts of witches and wizards were
present, all dressed in their finest robes, and, near the back, she could make out a few
photographers, some hired by the family, others from the local paper's society pages.

As the sun began to set Harry nudged Hermione, then looked upwards. She looked up as well and
saw the slowly falling embers of light drift down over the crowd like snow, each flickering out
before hitting the ground. WIthout realizing it, she leaned into Harry, and he took her hand in his
as they watched the falling glimmers of light.

Then the ceremony began, and she could see Ron and all of his brothers standing at the front of
the theater, while the rest of the attendants filed down to join them. Ginny looked brilliant in
her deep blue dress robes, and she flashed a grin at them as she walked by.

Then Fleur came last, her sparkling wedding dress, coupled with her overwhelming Veela charm,
making her look more radiant than ever.

Harry and Hermione watched in fascination at all the odd little rituals that went into a
wizarding wedding. Hermione even gave Harry's hand a nervous squeeze when it came Ginny's
time to perform the fruition spell, then she gave a sigh of relief when she performed it
perfectly.

And then it seemed the ceremony was practically over as quickly as it had begun. Hermione
couldn't recall the last time she'd been so fascinated with anything. Then everyone stood
to cheer and congratulate the new couple, and as Hermione went to clap, she realized she'd been
holding Harry's hand the entire time.

She looked down at their entwined fingers, then blushed and let go so she could clap along with
everyone else.

"Doesn't Ronald look brilliant?" Luna leaned over towards Hermione as Ron made his
way down the aisle.

"He looks rather handsome, yes." Hermione agreed, then they all waved at him as he
passed.

"Well, I'll give it to Fleur, she certainly is rather fond of tradition. That was
definitely the longest ceremony I have ever attended."

"Really? I thought it went by rather quickly."

"Oh no, not with all of those rituals. The modern ceremonies are only half as
long."

"That seems a shame," Harry added. "I thought this was quite nice."

"Oh absolutely," Hermione agreed. "You know, when I get married someday, I want
to have all of those rituals, I thought they were brilliant."

"Really?" Harry grinned at her, and Hermione felt herself blush uncomfortably.

"Err... really." She gave a quick smile, then turned to face Luna.

"Really?" Luna quirked her eyebrow again as she subtly teased her.

"Let's go then, we don't want to get stuck at a bad table." Hermione ushered
them out of the row and towards the banquet hall.

***

"And to our dearest brother Bill,"

"And our newest sister Fleur,"

"We offer these words of wisdom,"

"To keep a marriage brimming,"

"With love in the loving cup,"

"When you are wrong, admit it,"

"And when you are right, shut up!"

The assembled crowd gave a hearty roar of laughter.

"May Fleur be skilled in holding her tongue then,"

"Because marrying her is one of the few things Bill's been right about in
ages!"

Another healthy peal of laughter went up in the banquet hall as the twins went over and both
hugged Bill and kissed Fleur on either cheek.

Harry turned and watched Hermione laughing as she grabbed her glass of water.

'Now? Is now the perfect time?'

'No, not yet. Wait for the dancing!'

'But I'm no good at dancing!'

Another round of toasts were made by various friends and family members, then Charlie stepped
forward and amplified his voice and addressed the crowd.

"Alright then everyone, let's make the couple light the room!"

Surrounding the centerpieces of every table were clusters of gold-tinged glass globes that
reminded Harry of Rememberalls. Upon Charlie's statement, the globes slowly rose from the table
and hung suspended in the air at varying heights. The crowd began to cheer and Harry watched in
amazement as Bill and Fleur began to kiss, rather theatrically he noted, which caused the globes
throughout the room to flare into life.

"Fairy globes."

"What?" Harry and Hermione both looked at Luna.

"They're called fairy globes. Fairly common at weddings. Whenever the couple in love
kisses, it causes the globes to glow intensely. The idea is to every now and then cheer the couple
into practically snogging each other senseless, because it's believed if they can generate
enough magic by kissing, it will cause the globes to burst."

"Can they really do that?" Hermione asked.

"I doubt it. At least I've never heard of anyone actually doing it. It's really
just an excuse to make the wedding couple snog each other silly. It's one of those wedding
things."

The room went up into a roar again as Bill and Fleur kissed and the globes pulsated.

"A bit disgusting though, watching your brother snog someone!" Ron and Ginny had
joined them at the table.

"I happen to think it's sweet Ronald!" Then Luna stood and kissed him, which
caused the globes above their table to glow.

"No, Ron's right, it is disgusting to watch your brother snog!" Ginny
pushed past them, then sat down next to Hermione.

"So, what did you think of the ceremony? It was your first wizard wedding, right?" She
looked back and forth from Harry to Hermione.

"Actually, it was my first wedding, period. I'd never been to one before, not even a
muggle one," Harry explained.

"So? How was it?"

"I liked it a lot actually. I wonder if my parent's wedding was anything like
this." He caught an almost wistful glance from Hermione.

"It's not that different from muggle weddings, except for the ritual spells and all.
But the spells were really quite fascinating. There were actually a few in there I'd never
heard of before."

"Well, this was a fairly traditional wedding. I doubt many people use a lot of those spells
anymore Hermione."

"That's what Luna was saying."

"Would anyone like a drink? I was just about to get something." Harry stood up from
the table.

"Oh yes, thanks. Whatever you're having," Ginny answered.

"Just nothing with alcohol!" Hermione replied, then the three of them laughed.

"We're fine, thanks Harry," Ron said, then pulled Luna out onto the dance
floor.

"Right," then Harry walked towards one of the serving tables, while Hermione and Ginny
continued discussing the differences in muggle and wizard weddings.

'Alright then, definitely no dancing.'

'But it is romantic.'

'Yeah, but not the way I do it.'

Harry was still agonizing over the perfect moment to do what he wanted to do. He was just a bit
upset with Ron for making him overanalyze everything, but, in the end, he realized he was right. It
was definitely something terribly important that required some thought and planning.

'Yes, but when!?'

'And how?'

He was terribly impatient, and it wasn't helping matters any.

"Three pumpkin juices please."

"Harry!"

'Oh no!'

"I've been looking everywhere for you darling! Where have you been hiding
yourself?"

Harry groaned, then turned around.

"Hi Ratia."

"Harry, where have you been? I haven't seen you since the other night."

"I've been rather busy."

"Surely not too busy to spend time with me?" Her smile glittered at him, as if each
tooth were sparkling.

"Well, rather busy, yes."

"Oh but Harry," and she cozied up to him, "surely I can steal you away for a
dance or two."

"Actually Ratia, now's not a really good time."

"Why ever not Harry?" She looked at the three glasses of juice. "Surely your
friends can come get drinks of their own?"

"That would be rude."

"Oh, I'm sure they would understand." Then she grabbed his arm and practically
dragged him out onto the dance floor.

Harry reluctantly began dancing with Ratia, trying not to be completely rude, but impatient as
ever to be done with it. However, she was just as insistent to keep him there, and each time he
tried to politely excuse himself, she somehow managed to make him stay.

***

Ginny and Hermione had been talking for quite a bit before they noted Harry's extended
absence.

"Where's Harry gone off to? I'm getting awfully thirsty."

Hermione glanced around.

"I don't know? Hang on a moment, I'll go find him." Hermione got up and walked
towards the serving table that Harry had gone to and found their three pumpkin juices sitting
there. She looked around again, shrugged, then levitated the drinks back towards table.

"Oh thanks!" Ginny grabbed one of the glasses and practically swallowed the whole
thing.

"Did you find him?"

"No, actually." Hermione sat down and took a drink, a brief look of concern playing
across her face.

'Where's he gone off to?'

***

"Really Ratia, I need to get back to my friends."

"Just one more Harry. Certainly you can indulge me one more, considering I haven't seen
you in two days." She grasped at him, and as she spun him once more around the floor, Harry
caught the scowls of first Luna, then Ron as they danced.

"I'm sorry Ratia, I really must go." He stopped and pulled back from her.

"But Harry..."

"No, look, I'm sorry. I need to go talk to someone. It's terribly urgent."

"Urgent?"

"Yes, urgent! My friend, the one I needed to talk to the other night?"

"Oh yes, Harmony?"

"Hermione! I need to talk to her, right now!"

"You know, it's sweet of you to be so loyal to your friends like that, but
Harmony's a big girl Harry. I'm sure she can take care of herself."

"Yes, I know she can, but that's not why I need to speak with her. You see Ratia,
I'm terribly in love with her. Have been for ages actually, and if I don't go and tell her
right this instant, I may very well start cursing everyone, and I do mean everyone,
standing between her and me. Do I make myself clear?!"'

Ratia went deathly pale as she let him go.

"P-pperfectly...," she stammered.

"THANK YOU!" And Harry let out a frustrated sigh before stalking back towards the
table.

Ron and Luna smiled at one another as a stunned Ratia slowly walked off the dance floor. Then
Ron dipped Luna and kissed her.

***

"I'm sure he's around here somewhere Hermione."

Hermione stood up and started scanning the room. Then, much to her dismay, she spotted him on
the dance floor with... with her! Of all people, her?!

'You've got to be joking!'

"Of all the bloody nerve!"

"Hermione? What is it?"

"I need some air," she said coldly, then grabbed her cloak and marched out of the
banquet hall.

'What's made you so happy then?'
'You.'

'Right! What was I bloody thinking?! It was too much - too much to hope for! Fine, he
wants to just be friends, then I can be just friends... BLOODY HELL!!!'

Hermione kicked at a small pebble on the walkway of the banquet halls' garden, then she
began pacing furiously up and down.

'Calm down - maybe it's not what you think. That's what it's been like these
last two months after all, not at all what you thought. Maybe that's what's going on
now?'

She was desperate to rationalize this.

'There has to be some explanation... there simply has to be... hasn't
there?'

'He almost kissed me. We almost kissed this afternoon, I'm sure of it!'

'Almost.'

She kicked at another rock, then plopped herself down on a bench.

'BOLLOCKS!'

***

"Ginny, where's Hermione?"

"Where's Hermione? Where have you been?"

"I was just... where did she go?"

"I don't know. She was looking for you and then, I think she got rather
upset."

"Upset?"

"Yeah, she just grabbed her cloak all of sudden. Said she needed some air."

'Not good!'

"Which way did she go?"

"Over there, towards the gardens."

"Thanks."

'Bloody hell! Of all the things to bollox up a perfectly good evening!'

Harry was certain she'd seen him with Ratia. That had to have been it.

'Yep, so much for the perfect evening.'

***

Harry stepped out into the garden to find Hermione sitting on one of the benches on the far end.
She had her cloak wrapped tightly around with her hands clenched in tight little fists that made
her knuckles white.

"Hermione?"

She looked up at him, completely taken by surprise.

"Hermione? What are you doing out here?"

She stood up, the dark flushed color of her face slowly fading back to normal.

"Oh nothing," her voice was terse. "I just needed to get some air is
all."

"Some air?"

"Yeah, a bit stuffy in there."

'Calm down... need to calm down. Don't want him to know how upset I am. Just
friends... just friends now!'

She gave an overly bright smile and a falsely cheery voice.

"Oh, you know, just needed to get out for a bit. But I'm good now... yep, all good. We
should head back inside. Don't want to miss anything now do we?" She looked at him and
could instantly tell he wasn't buying it.

'This is too hard... I can't do this...'

"Never did get that pumpkin juice. I'm just going to go grab one." She tried to
race past him and he gently grabbed her arm.

"Hermione, stop."

Her stomach gave that familiar lurch. It was too much! Too many mixed signals, too much history
between them. She looked up at him, that false and bright smile threatening to crack. Her eyes were
shining.

"I'm just going to get some juice Harry."

He turned her around to face him, his hands radiating shivers where they rested on her arms.

"Hermione, listen to me. I did not want to dance with her. She grabbed me and I didn't
want to be rude."

"Her who Harry? I... I don't know what you're talking about. Besides,
you're free to dance with whomever Harry. I'm not your keeper or anything."

"Hermione, just stop already."

"Stop what? You know.. I really am quite thirsty Harry."

'Oh please let me go before I lose it completely!'

"Fine," he threw his hands up in exasperation, then began to pace. "You know, I
knew I should have talked to you this morning - but no - I had to go and listen to Ron!"

'What?'

"What?"

"He told me I should wait. Said I should wait for the perfect moment. But you know what
Hermione? There are no perfect moments? There's always going to be something - some persistent
girl who insists that I dance, Ginny's lost shoes, a looming dark lord, my catatonia! It's
always going to be something! I'm The Bloody Boy Who Can't Ever Win!"

'His catatonia???'

'HIS CATATONIA!!!'

"Y-y-your..." she tried to speak.

"And you know what, I'm tired of it! I'm tired of not being able to have what I
want for some reason or another. Either it's been taken away from me or I'm too stupid to
go and get it. Well no more Hermione!"

"N-no more?"

"No more!"

Then he marched over to her and she felt her knees give out as he gently but deliberately placed
his hands on either side of her face and kissed her.

There was a loud buzzing in her ears as the blood rushed past and she was dizzy and lightheaded
from the sheer thrill of it. Her stomach was flopping in all sorts of delightful ways and tingles
were alight over her entire body.

'I'm kissing Harry... I'm kissing Harry... I'm kissing
Harry...'

She almost passed out.

He pulled back slowly, a soft smacking sound as they pulled apart. She was too overcome to even
open her eyes.

"I'm in love with you Hermione!" He had his forehead pressed to hers, his voice
soft and deep.

"You're... what?" Her eyes were still closed, still rolled back in her head in
delight.

"I'm in love with you. I didn't know that's what it was at first.
Honestly," he opened his eyes and so did she. "I.. I think I've been in love you for
a while now. At least a year or so. It's just... you have to understand. I don't know... I
mean, I didn't know that's what it was."

"Oh Harry," and tears threatened to spill from her eyes.

"No, there are some things you need to know. Before, when we were in school. I think...
whenever I would get those feelings... those feelings for you that I didn't understand, that I
couldn't recognize... Hermione, the only thing I did know was how happy it made me. And I knew,
I remembered that when... when he was really happy, I could feel it. And I didn't want
him to feel me that happy, especially if he knew why I was happy."

"And then.. then that night. You have to know, I already told you, I didn't remember
what you said. I didn't remember any of it!"

"I know..."

"And you have to believe that if I did remember, I would have said something
Hermione! I would have talked to you, I swear I would have."

"I know that now Harry, I really do."

"But what you don't know, and I didn't remember until just last night - Hermione,
you're the reason I'm here."

"What?"

"You're the reason I came back that night. I thought I was done. I thought I'd done
everything I had to do and didn't want to come back at all. But then I saw you. I heard you
tell me you loved me, and it saved me Hermione. It brought me back here. It brought me back to
you."

Tears were pouring down her face.

"It was your love, it was the hope of a future with you, that's what brought me back
that night. I'm so sorry I didn't remember."

"But you remember now?" She smiled hopefully at him.

"I remember now." He smiled back.

"I'm in love with you Harry. I have been for years."

"I'm in love with you Hermione, and there's so much we're still meant to
do."

And he kissed her again, slowly, deliberately. Another dull roar rushed through her ears. They
remained in the garden, kissing each other, discovering this new aspect of one another, for quite
some time.

***

Harry and Hermione both wore equally goofy expressions as they returned towards the banquet
hall. They each had similar smears of pink lip gloss over and around their lips and chins.
Harry's legendary messy hair was even more so than usual, and Hermione's neatly coifed hair
was now loose and frayed at the edges where Harry had pulled it out while kissing her.

They rounded the walkway that led back towards the hall, when Ginny ambushed them, followed by
Ron and Luna.

"Uh uh - not that way. Go back 'round the other way you two!"

"What? Ginny?"

"She's not kidding Hermione. You two need to not be seen coming in this way!"

"Ron? What's going on," Harry asked.

"I had no idea...," Luna said in her trademark dreamy voice.

Ron herded them back towards the amphitheater, safe from any prying ears or eyes.

"You two owe me, in a big way!"

"Owe you?" Hermione looked at Ron, then Harry, puzzled. Harry looked equally
confused.

"Owe you for what?"

"For keeping the bride from using the Cruciatus on the lot of you!"

"Really, I'm quite impressed," Luna looked appreciatively at Harry, which made
Hermione feel a bit possessive.

"If Ginny hadn't seen you..."

"Ginny! Were you spying on us?!" Hermione was shocked.

"Not intentionally! I went looking for you two. You seemed so upset and Harry seemed so
worried."

"And you're lucky she did too!"

"Ron, what on earth are you on about?"

"Let's just say I had no idea how much you love Hermione, and how much she loves
you!"

"What?" The both of them blushed.

"When I found the two of you snogging," Ginny began, "I wanted to give you some
privacy, so I went back to the hall. That's when it happened."

"When what happened!?" Hermione was dying of curiosity.

"The fairy globes Hermione." Luna answered.

"The fairy globes?" Harry asked.

"The fairy globes!" Ron answered.

Then Hermione realized what they meant.

"No..."

"Yes, every last one of them!" Ginny couldn't help but grin.

"Ginny saw them bursting by the table closest to the garden. Luckily she managed to flag me
down quickly enough, and I got to the twins, who got to Charlie to get Bill snogging
away."

"No..." Harry just now realized.

"Mate - the two of you managed to explode every last fairy globe in the room, FROM OUT
IN THE GARDEN!" Ron couldn't help but punch Harry playfully in the shoulder, the
testosterone running rampant between the two of them.

Hermione blushed deep crimson.

"Oh my."

"At least Fleur thinks it was her. Even Bill might. But Charlie and the twins are privy to
what really happened."

"The twins?" Harry groaned.

"And you thought they were insufferable now," Ginny teased.

***

Much later that evening, after the wedding was over and everyone had left, Harry, Hermione,
Luna, Ginny, Ron and the twins were all lounging around in the suite, now properly transfigured
into a decent replica of the Gryffindor common room. Ron and Luna were snuggled together on one
couch, while Harry and Hermione were cuddling on the other. Ginny, Fred and George were sitting on
the floor, combing through the remaining party favors and candid instant snapshots.

"Oooh look at this one!" George held one up high, which Ron snatched out of his hand.
He let out a sharp bark of laughter, and Luna took it from him and laughed herself.

"We should frame this one," she handed it to Hermione. The picture was from the
reception and showed Harry dancing with Ratia, only instead of actually dancing with her, he was
frantically trying to go back to the table with Hermione and Ratia was gripping his arm like a
vice.

"See, I told you I didn't want to dance with her." He smiled at her and she kissed
him again.

"Ugh - am I the only one without a boyfriend now?"

"And how is Dean Thomas these days?" Ginny shot Hermione a death glare.

"Not to worry Ginny,"

"We don't have boyfriends either!"

Fred tickled her while George ruffled her hair.

"Luna, how am I going to be able to stand it while you're still at school this
year?"

"Well, there's always the holidays. And don't forget Hogsmeade weekends. Just
don't let me catch you near those Quidditch groupies Ronald, or I may have to hex
you!"

"I promise," then he kissed her.

"Ugh! No more watching my brothers snog tonight!" Ginny threw a pillow at them.

"So, Ron tells us Dobby found you a flat?" George asked.

"A nice one too." Fred commented.

"Yeah," Harry readjusted himself on the couch. "I imagine we'll all start
moving in as soon as we get back to England."

"How's the rent then?"

"Not too bad actually, plus it's three ways, so it's not a problem."

"Yeah, about that. Hermione, if you're going to the Academy and not working, how are
you going to make rent," Ron looked at her playfully.

She glared at Fred and George.

"Don't look at us!"

"We didn't say a word!"

"What are you looking at them for? I was just going to make a crack about you being
Harry's kept woman!"

It was Hermione's turn to lob a pillow at Ron.

"For your information, I happen to have a rather sizable Gringott's account of my own,
thank you!"

"What, your parents give you a gift then?"

"Certainly not! I happened to earn my own money, thank you."

Harry looked at her.

"Hermione, you've been in school the entire time we've known you. Did you get a
summer job or something."

Hermione began to blush.

"No... no I didn't."

"Then where did you get the money?" Ron smelled blood in the water.

"That's none of your business!"

"Is it my business?" Harry flashed his big green eyes at her.

"That isn't fair!"

"Oh go on and tell them already Hermione," George pushed.

"It's not like they won't find out eventually! Harry tends to notice business
matters from time to time," Fred urged.

"Business matters?" He sized up Hermione. "What do they mean 'business
matters'?"

"Hermione!" Ron's voice was breathy and scandalized. "Are you working for
Fred and George?!"

Harry looked at her in stunned amazement. She blushed even more.

"I'm... I'm not working for them! I just happened to... to sell them some
items."

"Some items? Like what?!" Ron was shocked.

She looked at Harry.

"Look," she explained. "I needed the money, to buy the materials for these,"
she flashed her ring. "It's not like I was going to go to you for the money. What if it
didn't work?"

"Hermione? What did you do?" Harry had a curious grin on his face.

She sighed, defeated.

"Oh go on," she nodded towards Fred and George. "Tell them already - big
mouths!"

The twins grinned at each other, then ran off and returned with a Weasley's Wizarding
Wheezes sample pack. Then they started going through it, pulling out various treats.

"The Paraphrasing Pillowmint."

"The Knowledgeable Know-It-All."

"The Utterly Ugly Umbridge."

"The Virtual Vertigo."

"Hmm, those are the only ones in here."

"The only what?" Ron asked.

"Well Ron, you see, dear Heady over there happens to be the inventor,"

"Dare say the innovator,"

"Behind each of these WWW treats!"

"No!" Ron was astonished. "Hermione! I'm appalled!" He teased her.

She threw another pillow at him.

"Hermione!" Harry was as surprised as Ron. "Did you really make all of
those?"

"Well it was easy really - and it's not like the Know-It-Alls circumvent the Hogwarts
anti-cheating spells, I would never do that."

Ginny just stared at her, nonplussed. Luna just stared at Ron dreamily.

"Who'd have thought," Ron asked. "Hermione, the prankster?"

"No! You heard your brothers, it's Hermione the Innovator!" She gave a cheeky
grin.

"Well you're just full of surprises aren't you?" Harry didn't think it was
possible, but he had an even deeper appreciation for her.

"You're right, I am just full of surprises Harry, and don't ever forget it."
She gave him a firm and deep kiss, contented at last in the arms of Harry Potter.

-Fin-

******************

A/N - It's over.... it's finally done! Agghhh!!! And now I can squeeze in a whole 3
hours of sleep before work. Yay me! Hope you enjoyed my World's Longest Songfic. It kinda got
away from me there. I think at somewhere around chaps 3 or 4 I said something about it being only
another chap or two... yeah, we see how well THAT worked out. Go fig! Sometimes these characters
have minds, not to mention issues, of their own.

Hope you enjoyed. Be seein' ya!