A Simple Misunderstanding

This is the followup to my other story, One Simple Thing. I'd recommend reading that first, but it isn't absolutely necessary, as there's an adequate recap here... enjoy!

Oh, and blah blah blah, not a dime, blah blah blah, they're not mine.

For Justyna, because I managed to horrify her yet again.
For Jane, because she asked... well, more like hinted, but that still counts.
For Frances & Chrissy, because you can only suck souls for so long...

***

A Simple Misunderstanding

Harry Potter was hardly what anyone would call a typical teenage boy. Most teenage boys were not engaged in an epic battle between good and evil with the fate of the wizarding world resting on their shoulders. Most boys were not made famous from incidents they couldn't remember from infancy. Most boys were not worried about a ridiculously evil and powerful madman trying to murder them at every possible step.

But when it came to girls? Well, in that respect, Harry Potter might be considered somewhat typical.

He had a crush once. Felt the awkwardness of a first kiss. Had lost aforementioned crush over a silly misunderstanding that most boys wouldn't be adept at handling, let alone someone as emotionally mixed up as him.

After this less than positive experience, he thought he'd swear off the fairer sex for a long time to come. Besides, it was difficult scheduling time for girls and dates between staying alive and saving the world.

But then he'd had a vision. And everything changed.

"Harry? You alright?"

"I'm sorry - what?"

"I said are you alright? You had this strange look on your face."

"Oh," he blushed, having been caught red handed. "I, erm, was just thinking about something."

Ron narrowed his eyes.

"You know, you've been acting pretty strangely since yesterday. You sure you're alright then?"

"I'm fine, really. Just... just looking forward to Christmas is all."

Ron seem thoroughly satisfied with this answer, then began to launch into the wonders that would be in store for Harry by celebrating a Weasley Christmas at the Burrow.

But Harry had already begun to slowly tune him out. In truth, he couldn't stop staring at Hermione. They had just returned from a day in Hogsmeade Village, having done their last bit of Christmas shopping before winter break. She was setting down her packages on one of the larger tables in the common room, studiously attempting to rearrange them to carry upstairs. Yet another grin begin to grow on Harry's face - the way she was arranging the packages, she looked so like Ron... his youngest son... their youngest son, from his vision.

Another blush crept unbidden over his face, thankfully disguised with the warm glow everyone had from coming in from the cold. The day before, in his last Divination lesson before the holidays, the class had learned to perform the ostendo charm, the most basic of visualization charms that aided in vision quests. The task had been easy enough, Trelawney had asked them all to concentrate on one simple thing they wanted for Christmas. Harry, in all truth, hadn't been looking forward to the holidays, other than that it meant a break from his studies. In fact, he had rather been dreading them - an all too painful reminder of who would be missing from the celebration this year. But, he had performed the assignment all the same, and had been most surprised at the outcome.

Rather than something simple, Harry had been shocked, or rather blessed, to have a vision of the future - his future. He still didn't know if it had been a true, seer-type vision or more a product of wishful thinking. In his future he had a family, two handsome young sons and a beautiful daughter. However, the biggest surprise had been when he discovered that, in fact, his best friend Hermione was their mother - his wife.

At first he'd been somewhat horrified for a number of reasons. He couldn't imagine thinking of Hermione as anything more than a friend, and then, of course, there was always what he thought of as 'the Ron factor'. However, once he laid eyes on her, coming to join the family on Christmas morning, all doubts slowly melted from him. He'd even been given an answer to 'the Ron factor' in the form of Luna Lovegood.

And then he had shared Christmas morning with this family - his family, opening presents and snuggling with Hermione as they watched the children. A feeling of love and completeness that he had never known had utterly contented him. And then she kissed him and told him she loved him, and nothing more could be right with the world.

The things he wanted more than anything else - a future, a love, a family - all these things he now saw in Hermione. She embodied completely his 'one simple thing'.

Hope.

And now it was all he could do to keep himself from grinning like an idiot every time he saw her.

He had promised himself that from now on, he would do whatever necessary to help see his vision to fruition. His first thought had been to buy her something he'd seen her wearing that Christmas morning - a red flannel robe with a gold Gryffindor lion on the front. The other things, like actually confessing any feelings to her, destroying Voldemort and surviving to tell the tale - well, it was always considered easiest to start small and work your way up.

As he had settled down to bed that night, he wondered if he would feel any different in the morning. He was still affected by the afterglow of his vision, and having dinner with Hermione had done nothing but enhance his feelings towards her. However, he knew that in the morning light things often changed, and he wondered if he hadn't been caught up in the machinations of some self fulfilling and, until now, unrealized desires.

Harry had a long standing history of unrestful sleep throughout the last few years. Evenings were often marred by nightmares and panic attacks, for he was always weakest in his sleep. Thankfully his renewed determination at mastering occlumency had helped, but it still didn't prevent the nightmares caused by guilt and shame. He considered himself lucky to sleep more than two hours at a time.

But that night, Harry not only slept, he dreamed. He dreamed of his family. He dreamed of his wife. He dreamed of the things he'd seen in those photographs on the mantle. He could imagine himself in St. Mungo's, trying to hold on to the baby Sirius while a mediwitch insisted that he needed changing. He remembered holding Lily in his arms on Christmas morning.

And then, slowly, his dreams began to change. He was no longer recalling things he'd seen in his vision - now he was beginning to expand upon it. He wondered how he and Hermione had finally become a couple. He imagined what their wedding had been like. He imagined what their honeymoon had been like as well (he was also a typical teenage boy in that respect).

And when he woke up that morning, it was with a renewed determination. No more doubts about moving too fast. No more fears that this was beyond the scope of a sixteen year old to want these things so soon. He simply knew, this was right. This was what he needed, and he'd never forgive himself if he didn't try.

"Oh no!" Hermione had somehow managed to topple one of her bags and now large multicolored balls of yarn were rolling everywhere. It snapped Harry out of his reverie.

"Here," Harry ran to her without realizing Ron was still babbling on. "Let me help you get those." He knelt down and immediately began collecting the rolling bits of yarn.

"That was terribly clumsy of me." She managed to find the ones that had rolled in the opposite direction, then put them back on the table.

Harry grabbed the last errant ball and then presented them to her. He wore the most ridiculous and expectant smile on his face, as if he had achieved something terribly significant.

"Here, that's the last of them."

She turned to take them from him, and noticed his expression. Her brow knitted ever so slightly in surprise, then she began placing them back into the bag.

"Um, thanks Harry."

"Not at all." He continued to beam at her while she shifted all her packages around again. "Do you need any help with that?"

"I think I can manage this lot now." She collected the bags and packages and balanced them in her arms, then turned around to smile at Harry before going up to her room. "Thanks again."

Harry felt himself melt as he leaned against the table.

Ron walked over and looked at Harry, who was still beaming at the girls' staircase. Ron looked at the staircase, back at Harry, then at the staircase again.

"What is the matter with you?"

"I think she's really going to like her gift this year."

Ron shrugged. "If you say so mate. But I think I got her the better gift this year." Harry did have to admit that Ron's choice was probably the best he'd ever made in the gift giving department. Whether it was through some sudden stroke of genius, or the fact that he actually had some money to spend this year because of his summer work with Fred and George, Ron had done rather well. He had thought to get her a Quick Quotes Quill from Scrivenshaft's, so that Hermione would be able to keep up on all her note taking with the upcoming NEWTs next year.

"You're probably right. Mine's hardly as practical." Harry had spent a great deal of time in Gladrags, explaining to the sales witch exactly what he wanted. He had spared no expense, and had various charms added to the robe itself. First there was an everlasting cushioning charm placed in the lining, so it would always be extremely comfortable. A perfect fit charm insured that it would always fit, even if she became pregnant (and this thought made him blush furiously). A personal temperature charm assured that the wearer would always be as warm or cool as they desired, so the robe could be worn all year long. A repelling and freshening charm, specific to Gladrags, would keep the robe forever clean and laundry fresh with the scent of the wearer's choice, no matter what happened. But Harry's favorite was the durability charm, which guaranteed that the robe would last 100 years or your money back.

He could only hope he'd have one hundred years with her.

Considering the sheer expense of all the additions, the sales witch had gladly thrown in a pair of equally charmed slippers, commenting that Harry's purchase alone would guarantee her a nice Christmas bonus. She expertly wrapped the package, and, at Harry's request, had refrained from using any magical decorations. Hermione had told him that her extended family would be staying for most of the holidays, and Harry wanted to be certain that she would able to open her gift on Christmas morning.

Harry also added a note to the inside of the package, and writing it had taken nearly as long as the purchase itself. However the sales witch was more than patient, and even offered to help him. He politely refused then set about to writing, in his opinion, the perfect note. Not too forward, not too hopeful, the last thing he wanted to do was frighten her with some overt gesture. So he settled on something he thought sounded friendly, with just the smallest hint of 'more'.

In comparison, Ron's gift had been much easier. Honeydukes now offered an assortment of confections in yearlong supplies, and Harry knew that this would be the ideal gift for Ron. He purchased the self refilling tray of Bertie Bott's, Fizzing Whizbees and Chocolate Frogs, guaranteed to last for one year, regardless of how much a person ate. He also picked up a copy of Keeping with the Keepers: Time Tested Strategies and Tactics, and gifts for Hagrid, Dumbledore, Dobby and the Weasleys. As an afterthought, he'd also grabbed something for Luna as well. If things were going to work out the way he hoped, he'd best get to know her better.

Harry sighed again, picturing what Hermione would look like in her robe as she was now, compared to the thirty-something woman she would become. He started to become uncomfortably warm as her remembered the voluptuous and perfectly proportioned curves with which the future would bless her - that nearly permanent grin growing ever wider on his face.

"I just hope it doesn't remind her of that Skeeter woman."

Harry blinked, trying to discern what Ron was talking about. Was Ron still here?

"I'm sorry?"

"You know, that quill. Didn't Skeeter use them all the time?"

"Oh - um, I suppose she did," Harry remembered. "Used to suck the tip before she set to writing - a bit disgusting actually, that nasty little sucking sound."

"Oh hell, what if she hates it," Ron paled a bit. "What if she thinks I'm some completely insensitive prat?"

"Well, she often thinks that, doesn't she?" Harry smirked.

Ron looked hurt.

"Oh Ron, I'm only having you on. I'm certain she'll think it's rather thoughtful of you."

"Really," he looked hopeful.

"Oh yeah, I'm certain. So," he said, trying to subtly change the subject, "Christmas at the Burrow. Think we'll be seeing Luna over the holidays?"

Ron's eyes grew a bit wide. "Erm, dunno. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, no reason. I picked up a small gift for her in Hogsmeade, considering she's a friend of Ginny's and she lives as close as she does."

"A gift? What did you get her?" There was a slight edge to Ron's voice.

"Here, I'll show you." Harry didn't seem to notice Ron's slight discomfiture as he gathered his packages and began to rummage through them. He found a small box, withdrew the item within, and unwrapped it from the protective bits of tissue paper.

It was a small moving sculpture, slightly oval in shape, resembling half an egg cut lengthwise and set on it's side. The contents appeared to mimic water and then a creature appeared, breaking the surface of the miniature lake. It was a tiny replica of a kelpie and inscribed in the base was a personal inscription from Harry:

"Muggles didn't believe she existed either. Happy Christmas Luna."

Ron looked up at Harry, apparently at a loss for words.

"Well, you know - the muggles thought that the Loch Ness Monster was just a load of rubbish, even though we know she's real. I figured, you know, since Luna believes in creatures that most wizards don't - well, I figured she'd appreciate this." Harry gave a slight shrug. "Plus, I never did thank her properly for having her dad run that article on me last year."

"Right." Ron narrowed his eyes as Harry rewrapped the package.

"I'm going to catch a nap before dinner. Meet you back here 'round seven?"

"Yeah. Sure. Fine."

His response seemed a bit terse, and Harry meant to ask him what the matter was, but Ron had already walked away. He shrugged, then gathered his packages and went to his room.

He set his purchases in his trunk, then stretched out on his warm and inviting bed. Immediately he felt at ease, the day's shopping having exhausted him more than he realized. He kicked off his shoes, placed his glasses on the bed table, then wrapped himself in the bedspread. With any luck, he'd have another dream like the one he'd had the night before, and with that thought, he drifted off into sleep.

"I think we should name him Sirius." He was nestled under Hermione's arm, lying in bed. She played idly with his hair. "Or James," she amended. "One of the two. I think it would be fitting. What do you think?"

Harry rubbed slow circles over her abdomen filled with the joy of impending fatherhood.

"Both," he said. "Sirius James."

And she laughed and he smiled.

"Sirius James it is."

A smiling Harry woke up and looked at the clock. He rose slowly then put his shoes on, then walked downstairs in a slight daze, still caught up in his dreams.

As he came around the last set of steps, he spotted Hermione and Ron seated at one of the tables in the corner, apparently caught up in a rather intense discussion. He leaned against the wall and watched them, watched her, intently listening to a furtive Ron, who looked a bit red in the face at the moment.

He couldn't help but marvel at the simple way she was listening - focusing her attention on Ron so that he most likely felt as if she had the answers to whatever was wrong. Her brows were drawn up in the middle, her eyes wide as she took in whatever his problem was. He nearly laughed when he noticed her head slightly bobbing to keep fixed on Ron's furtive gestures.

He was amazed at all her intricacies - everything he'd taken for granted all these years.

He walked towards them, and, apparently, whatever discussion they were having was engrossing enough that they didn't notice him at first.

"...and what if it was the same thing!?"

"Ron, I'm sure it wasn't."

"But I'm telling you, the way he's acting..."

"Who's acting?" Harry leaned forwards on the table, smiling at the pair of them.

Ron looked up at him, his eyes wide, clearly shocked to see him suddenly standing there. Hermione merely looked mildly surprised, a bit of a blush creeping across her cheeks.

"So, what are we talking about," he asked again.

Ron looked slightly panicked.

"Dean!" Hermione said, perhaps a little too loudly. "We were talking about Dean, and how Ron's worried he's moving too fast with Ginny." She quickly glanced at Ron and started nodding her head.

"Yeah mate, that Dean Thomas... I mean, he's a good guy and all, but I have to look out for my little sister, I mean, I'm the only brother she has left at school and he is my dorm mate and how would it look if I wasn't a bit overprotective now and then, I mean, Fred and George would have been, and they'd all give me a right ribbing if I came home and they found out that Dean was being inappropriate and..."

"Take a breath Ron," Hermione teased him.

"What? Er, right... right then. So," he practically leapt from the table, "who's ready for dinner?" Then he quickly walked towards the portrait hole.

"What's gotten into him?" Harry laughed, then he noticed Hermione looking at him a bit strangely.

"Well, you know, big brother routine and all," she stood as well, then followed Ron out into the corridor.

As much as Harry wanted to continue dwelling on his short nap, dinner proved to be far more distracting than normal. Firstly, he was put off when Hermione had chosen to sit opposite him with Ron, rather than beside him. Normally he wouldn't think twice about something this simple, but things had changed drastically, for him at least, since yesterday.

He tried not to let this bother him too much, then he began to wonder what meals would be like in the future for them. What kind of fancy restaurants would he take her to when they began dating? Would she cook for him? Did she even know how to cook? He would, of course, cook for her. Years of indentured servitude to the Dursleys had at least left him with a bevy of domestic skills.

He imagined going through the steps of making a romantic dinner for two - setting a small table, lighting candles, picking the right music. He shook his head slightly, chiding himself for suddenly turning into some kind of hopeless romantic. He gave small laugh.

'Merlin help me, I've turned into a girl!'

"Care to let us in on the joke then?" Hermione was smiling at him. Harry looked up and blushed a bit when he saw her.

Ron had tried to nonchalantly nudge Hermione, and when she glanced at him, he had quickly darted his eyes towards Harry.

"Yeah Harry," he said through a mouthful of food. "What's so funny?"

Harry blinked, then had the funny feeling he had just missed something. Then a faint panic crept in when he realized why he'd been laughing.

"Oh, er, it's nothing really," Harry looked quickly around the room, hoping something would come to mind. He saw a group of fifth years over at the Ravenclaw table. "I, um, was just remembering something odd that Luna told me once."

The loud clatter of the Ron dropping his fork on his plate echoed over the din of the Great Hall. Hermione shot him a furtive glance, trying to catch his eye, but Ron was looking straight at Harry.

"Been talking to Luna lately?" Ron questioned, his voice a bit higher than normal.

"Er, not more than usual. But you know, seeing as how she's a member of the DA and she really helped us out last year... I dunno, I was just thinking we should try to get to know her better." In fact, Harry was hoping that Ron would want to get to know her a lot better in the coming months.

"Well, um, I think that's very, er, thoughtful of you Harry. I mean, I know she can be a bit spotty at times, but it simply isn't nice the way some people treat her." Hermione had placed her hand on Ron's wrist as she spoke to Harry.

"No... no, it really isn't." Harry's eyes narrowed on Hermione's hand squeezing Ron's wrist. That's when he felt it. His first real flare of jealousy. Just as quickly it was gone, but he'd felt it just the same.

"So, you just want to what? Suddenly become best friends with her?" Ron's voice was still a bit strained. Harry was confused. Ron didn't seem to be acting at all himself.

And then he began to worry. What if Ron wasn't at all willing to get to know Luna better anytime soon? What if he and Luna didn't get together for a long time yet? What if he still was harboring feelings for Hermione? Would Harry have to wait for a long time to even consider being with her?

Too many questions - his vision hadn't come with a timeline of any sort. He had no idea if and when certain events were meant to happen. In fact, he'd been pinning a lot of his hopes on certain things, such as Ron and Luna becoming rather friendly, rather quickly. He suddenly had a desperate need to paint Luna in as flattering a light as possible to Ron - things were too delicate to leave to absolute chance.

"You know," Harry leaned forward and dropped his voice a bit. "I didn't really tell you about the end of last year. I actually had a conversation with Luna, you know, um after... after everything that happened..." Ron and Hermione had both leaned towards Harry, realizing the importance of what he was saying. "Well, she helped me realize some things... you know, she could," Harry swallowed. This was going to be a bit more difficult than he thought. "She could hear the voices behind the veil as well... I just... I don't know... I think between that and the thestrals and her telling me about losing her mum... she just helped me feel like I wasn't going completely nutters. I just wanted to include her more - you know, to... I don't know, return the favor I guess." He looked imploringly at the both of them.

They both leaned back, looking at Harry appreciatively. Neither one said anything for a minute, as they took in what he'd just said. Finally, it was Ron that spoke.

"Well... um, that's... I had no idea Harry. That's... that was really nice of her. Of course I understand if... well, that is to say, if you want to include her more. That's fine by us." Ron glanced at Hermione, but she seemed to be staring off towards an indistinct spot on the table surface, her brows were slightly knit in concentration.

"Er, Hermione?" Ron prodded.

"What?" She looked up at Ron, clearly irritated at having her concentration interrupted. Then she seemed to remember what they'd been talking about. She glanced quickly at Harry.

"Oh, um, of course Harry. That's... that's really considerate of you."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief, feeling as if he'd dodged a rather large torpedo aimed squarely at his hopes for the future. Thankfully it appeared as if his little admission had done the trick. He and Ron seemed to ease into conversation quickly after that, but Hermione remained oddly silent for most of the meal, merely chiming in with one or two words at a time. Harry was torn between trying to engage her in more discussion and trying to build up a solid foundation for Ron's interest in Luna. However, it seemed the more he talked about Luna, the more withdrawn Hermione became.

As they returned to the common room that evening Harry had assumed that Hermione would be lounging with them, either reading or finishing up some homework or discussing vacation plans. Instead she quickly bid them goodnight, citing quite suddenly she wasn't feeling too well, then went up to her room.

Harry found it a bit difficult to hide his disappointment. That night when he went to bed he still had dreams of the future, only now it wasn't all quite as rosy as before. He had dreams in which Hermione was extremely ill, and he had to sit with her in St. Mungo's, sick with worry until the mediwitches could determine what was wrong. Next he was leaning against the bathroom door of their bedroom, trying to give her comforting words as she came over ill once again, this time with morning sickness.

When he woke up early the next morning he immediately grabbed his robe and headed down to the common room in search of her. He breathed a sigh of relief to find her in the sparsely populated room, curled in a chair by the fire. Crookshanks sat in her lap as she read a book on transfiguration.

"Hermione."

"Oh," she looked surprised to see him. "Good morning Harry. What are you doing up this early?"

"Early? What time is it?"

She looked at the clock mounted on the wall behind him.

"Looks to be nearly seven."

"Seven!" He slumped into the couch. "Ugh... I didn't know Sundays even had a seven in the morning."

She laughed, and he smiled at her.

"If that's the case, then what are you doing up this early?"

"Oh," he blushed, "I, um, couldn't sleep." He looked away.

"Bad dream?"

"Not... not exactly. More 'dream related' rather than 'bad dream' you might say."

She raised her brows, looking thoroughly confused.

"Nevermind, don't worry about it. So, how are you feeling? Are you all better then?"

She still look mildly confused.

"Um, I'm fine? Why wouldn't I be?"

"Last night - you said you weren't feeling well? Are you sick?"

"Oh... oh that!" She glanced quickly sideways. "Um, no... no, it was just a bit of a headache is all. I'm, um, I'm fine now."

Harry sagged a bit, breathing a sigh of relief.

Hermione noticed him, then a small smile played on her lips.

"Harry? Were you... you weren't worried, were you?"

"What? Er, no... I mean... I wasn't really worried, just more, um, mildly concerned is all," he finished, somewhat lamely.

"Thanks anyway," she grinned, her face pinking a bit. Then she suddenly found her book quite fascinating.

Harry couldn't help but smile, watching her curled in the chair by the fire. The early morning sunlight was just coming in the window, giving the room a soft glow. He leaned back on the couch, happy just to be here with her, then he began to close his eyes.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?"

"You should probably go back up to bed."

"Um hmm." But he didn't move off the couch.

"Oh, c'mon then." He opened his eyes and was greeted by Hermione hovering over him. He couldn't hide the grin that spread wide on his face as she reached over and pulled his shoulder forward. He slowly got up and she playfully pushed him back towards the staircase.

"Get some rest Harry."

"Yes dear," he joked, then smiled at her blushing face over his shoulder before going back upstairs.

Monday came with a flurry of activity. After receiving their last bits of reading assignments everyone ran quickly back to their rooms to finish packing, then headed off to Hogsmeade station to ride the train home for the holidays. As usual the three of them were able to secure a compartment to themselves. They played a few games of Exploding Snap, and Harry kept stealing glances at Hermione, his face lighting up every time she laughed and smiled. A few times she caught him staring, and she'd stare back at him, and then they'd both collapse into giggles, despite Ron's confusion.

After one game they began talking about Christmas, and Hermione lamented that she'd most likely be unable to get away from her family to spend anytime at the Burrow. Even though she had passed her apparating tests with flying colors, she wasn't sure how she'd be able to explain her sudden absence on Christmas morning to the large and assembled group of Grangers.

"Well, just pop over for a minute or two then - just to collect your gifts and such," Ron suggested. "You can come either first thing or really late, you know, when the muggles aren't likely to notice."

"Oh that would be something. I could just imagine if my cousin Annabelle caught me apparating into the room like the ghost of Christmas Past," she laughed. "Pretty hard to be sneaky when you share a room with someone."

"Tell me about it," Ron said absentmindedly, then looked thoroughly embarrassed when he realized that both Harry and Hermione were looking at him, eyebrows quirked.

Thankfully for Ron his embarrassment was short lived, as Ginny, Luna and Neville came to join them a moment later. They all joined in the next game, and Harry hoped that something as simple as this could be the beginnings of getting Ron to really notice Luna. He'd nudge Ron whenever Luna would say something remotely amusing, trying not to be too overt about his intentions. However, he did notice every now and then that Ron would throw a meaningful look at Hermione, and she would look back at him, glance at Harry, then give the tiniest bit of a scowl.

Sooner than they realized they had arrived at the station and began to disembark. Harry offered to carry both Hedwig's and Pig's cages, while Ron carried both of their large duffle bags towards the barrier. He noticed Ron speeding forward a bit to catch up with Hermione, and the two of them looked like they were having a rather intense discussion. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but Hermione kept frowning repeatedly and shaking her head.

He wanted to ask them what was going on, but they had crossed the barrier and there was mass confusion as many students ran about searching for family members. Harry set down the two owl cages and waited for the majority of students to clear. Soon enough Ron and Hermione had come ambling back towards him, waiting to spot both the Weasleys and the Grangers.

Before Harry could ask what they'd been discussing, Hermione spotted her parents and began to leave.

"Oh wait, Hermione," Harry knelt down and opened his bag, then pulled out the present. "Here," he offered, "if you can't make it to the Burrow, well, I wanted you to be able to open this on Christmas morning."

"Thanks Harry, but," she began.

"Oh no, don't worry. It's nothing out of the ordinary. I mean, nothing that would be questionable. Completely safe," he grinned reassuringly.

"Thanks," she smiled up at him, but Harry noticed it didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Hermione, you have to at least try and come. Someone as clever as you can fool a couple of muggles," Ron pressed. He also handed her his gift. "You should probably wait until your alone to open that."

"Right then, I'll try. Besides, I have to give you my gifts too, and they're not quite ready yet."

"Great," Ron smiled. "Happy Christmas then Hermione," he leaned forward and hugged her. She murmured something into his ear that Harry couldn't quite catch, and they seemed to embrace a bit longer than normal. He felt that twinge of jealousy go through him again.

"Happy Christmas Harry," there was something just the tiniest bit off about her voice, but Harry couldn't place what it was. Then she gave him a quick, one armed hug before running off towards her parents.

"Happy Christmas Hermione," he spoke under his breath while watching her walk away. He stood there watching her a bit longer, suddenly feeling quite lost. Then Ron nudged him, and he turned to find Mr. and Mrs. Weasley coming towards them.

Tuesday night was Christmas Eve, and Mrs. Weasley had gone all out to make certain that no one went to bed hungry. The meal she prepared rivaled that of the Hogwarts' house elves and Harry felt quite sure he wouldn't want to eat again until the new year.

He and Ron slowly trudged up the winding stairs leading to Ron's room. They plopped on the adjoining beds and both let out groans of comfort as they loosened their waistbands.

"I think my mum's trying to do us in mate," Ron said, then let out an embarrassingly loud belch. Harry couldn't help but laugh, then regretted it as he was uncomfortably full. He grabbed his stomach, as if trying to hold it together.

"I reckon you're right," he groaned. "Still, I'd take this over a Christmas alone any day."

They both lay there talking well into the night about everything trivial from Quidditch to how Peeves had still managed not to get thrown out of the castle after all his pranks. The conversation was punctuated by comfortable gaps of silence, and then Ron spoke, his voice softer than usual.

"Harry?"

"Yeah Ron?"

"Can I... er... is it alright if I ask you something?"

Harry tensed a bit, uncertain of what was coming. "Um, yeah, of course you can Ron."

"Do you... I mean, you don't have to answer if you don't want to... but I was just wondering," he took a deep breath, as if trying to summon his nerve. "Harry, do you... is there someone that you... that you fancy?"

'Uh oh!'

"Erm... um... what do you mean Ron?"

Ron sighed.

"You know perfectly well what I mean Harry." And now an uneasy silence fell between them as Harry tried to figure out how to respond.

A myriad number of things ran through his head, but the thing that concerned him the most was the timing. What if, at this point and time, Ron still fancied Hermione? What if that's what all the whispering and furtive glances had meant? It would certainly explain things, and then Harry thought about that hug that Hermione had given Ron, and his stomach clenched uncomfortably. A horrible thought suddenly occurred to him... what if... what if Hermione also fancied Ron?

What if they had discovered that they liked one another? Maybe it had all been a stupid, stupid dream of his - the whole vision - the last few days. Maybe this was Ron's way of trying to break the news to him.

Harry suddenly found it extremely difficult to breathe.

"It's alright mate, I mean, if you don't want to tell me... but I think I... that is... I think I know who it is."

Harry squeezed his eyes shut. "You do," he asked.

"Yeah... yeah I do..." Ron's voice was nearly a whisper now. "Look, Harry, I understand. I mean... bloody hell Harry, I think we fancy the same girl."

Harry's stomach twisted into a knot - there it was, exactly what he feared the most. "Yeah Ron, I - I think we do too."

Another uncomfortable silence settled between them.

"What should we do then?"

"I dunno Ron... I mean... well, it's more up to her than it is to us I suppose. I just," he swallowed hard and could feel everything slowly start to slip away - all of his hope. "I just don't want this to ruin our friendship."

"Well no," Ron's voice sounded unpleasantly light, as if he were trying to convince himself of what he was saying. "It would take more than any girl to come between us mate."

"Ron, she's hardly any girl."

"No, no you're right. She's... I suppose, unique?"

"Exceptional," Harry agreed.

"So, how long... how long have you known?"

"Well... I thought... I thought I didn't know at all, until that day in Divination..."

"I knew it!" Ron interrupted, but Harry continued.

"But I think... I think I've known for a long time now. I just never really realized it before."

"Yeah... yeah, me too. It was that stupid vision quest that cinched it."

"You too huh," Harry sighed. "I guess... I guess it was silly to think that everything I saw was... well... meant to be and all that."

"Everything you saw?"

"Yeah..."

"You mean... that entire time you were out... your vision was that long?" Ron seemed amazed.

"Well yeah, I mean, I saw a whole future... the house, Christmas morning," Harry blushed, "I even saw our kids."

"Bloody hell Harry! I just saw... I just saw her gift to me... cripes! No wonder you had the stupid smile on your face."

Harry felt thoroughly embarrassed now. He tried to change the subject.

"So, what did you see?"

"Oh, um, it was a pennant. You know, like the ones they wave around during Quidditch."

"A pennant?"

"Yeah... only, um, this one said... oh this is really embarrassing."

"I think we're both up for a lot of embarrassment this evening. Go on then," Harry pushed.

"It said... it said, 'Weasley is my king'."

Despite how miserable he was feeling, Harry couldn't help but let out a snort of laughter.

"Hey! I didn't laugh when you told me what you saw!"

"I'm sorry... you're right Ron. It's just that..."

"Just what?!"

"Well, I mean, it's not at all like her, is it?" He could hardly imagine Hermione waving such a thing in the stands, gazing adoringly like a Quidditch groupie while cheering them on.

"It's not as if it's any more ridiculous than some of the other things she's done."

Harry didn't think he'd classify anything Hermione had ever done as 'ridiculous'. He slowly sat up.

"Like what?"

"What d'you mean 'like what'?"

"I mean, what other ridiculous things has she done Ron?"

"You know what I mean Harry."

"No. No I don't!" He was raising his voice, but something wasn't right. He was afraid, but he could feel the tiniest bit of hope come back to him.

"Ron, who... who are you talking about?"

Ron sat up and faced him, his eyes narrowing. "Don't be stupid Harry! I saw that gift you got for her. I knew that you fancied her just the same as I did. And the way you've been acting the last couple of days..."

"What gift Ron?" He had to hear him say it. He had to know he wasn't grasping at straws.

Ron let loose an exasperated sigh. "That stupid kelpie in that stupid lake!"

Harry nearly flew off his bed toward Ron, causing the redhead to cry out a yelp of surprise. Harry picked him up and practically squeezed the life out of him, a fanatical grin shining in the darkness of the room.

"LUNA! YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT LUNA!" He was nearly crushing Ron now, shouting in his ear. Ron forced himself out of Harry's grasp, fairly certain that his best friend had gone mad.

"Of course we're talking about Luna!" He pushed Harry off of him. "Wake the whole house why don't you?!" The ghoul in the attic was already clanging around above them.

"No Ron!" Harry was wearing a manic smile. "You're talking about Luna!"

It took Ron a moment, then he seemed to understand.

"You mean... you mean you're not talking about Luna?!"

"No," Harry smiled. "No I'm not!"

"But... but the way you've been acting... I mean, being so nice to her and getting her that gift..."

"I was doing that for you Ron! In my vision... I saw the two of you together. I just thought I should start getting used to the idea of including her."

"You... you saw us together in your vision?" Ron seemed to have paled a bit. "Wow... I was just trying to get used to the idea of not calling her Loony anymore..." Ron sat down again. "But... but wait a minute. If you weren't talking about Luna, then who did you mean?"

He couldn't very well not tell him now.

"Hermoine," he sat down. "I've been talking about Hermione, Ron. I was so worried all this time because I was afraid that you still might fancy her, and then the way you two have been talking the last couple of days...," he felt a bit guilty. "I... I just noticed the two of you glancing at each other and having conversations without me... I thought... I thought you two had gotten together."

It was Ron's turn to laugh. "Oh no Harry... all of that? Well, I mean, truth be told, when I thought you fancied Luna... I thought that you'd seen the same vision I had... I don't know how, but that's what I thought. I was asking Hermione for advice."

"Advice?"

"Well yeah. I told her what happened, what you had gotten Luna. She told me I was being silly, but the way you were acting..."

Harry's stomach dropped.

"Wait - you... you told Hermione that... that I fancied Luna?"

"Yeah and... oh!" It suddenly hit Ron why this would not be a good thing to do. "She, um, she told me I was being silly! She didn't believe it for a second mate," Ron tried to assuage.

But Harry remembered all the little looks and scowls she had given him. If, as Harry hoped, Hermione had any feelings for him whatsoever, then he completely understood why she'd been upset. Why she'd been so standoffish on the train platform.

"What did she say to you?"

"What?"

"When she said goodbye yesterday, she said something to you... what did she say?"

"Oh... oh that! Um," and Harry could see him blushing in the dim, moonlit room. "She, um, she said that it would be alright... that you and I would be able to work it out and still be friends."

Harry sank back into the bed, amazed at how quickly he could go from miserable, to elated, back to miserable again.

"But you can owl her Harry. We can tell her what really happened... I mean, as much as you want. I'm sure she'd find the whole thing rather funny," Ron sounded hopeful.

"No Ron, I can't. Her muggle relatives, remember? I can't very well send Hedwig over there with a scroll, now can I?"

"Oh, no... no I suppose not." Now Ron sat down, then something occurred to him. "Oh! What about that muggle thingy... the fellytone!"

"It's no good Ron," Harry was getting more and more depressed. "Firstly, I doubt there's a telephone anywhere near here, and secondly, I don't even have her phone number." It was true. In all their years of friendship, Harry had never rang her once.

"Oh mate... I'm really sorry... if I had known..."

"Yeah...yeah.... I know. I should have told you."

"No... no. I should have told you, when I first suspected. Besides, you thought that I fancied Hermione. It was hard enough for me to ask you about Luna, and I only fancy her Harry... I reckon... what you feel for Hermione... I get the idea it's a bit more than that."

Harry let out a mirthless little laugh. Trust Ron to be insightful about three days too late.

"Yeah Ron... I reckon it's a bit more as well."

"Don't worry mate, I'm sure it'll work out. I mean, you saw the future, didn't you?"

"Sure...," and Harry drew up the covers around himself protectively. "Goodnight Ron."

"Happy Christmas Harry... it'll work out, you'll see."

Harry fell into an uneasy sleep. Rather than dreaming of Christmas morning and presents, he had dreams about his future imperfect. He and Hermione having a miserable first date. Hermione dating someone else. Hermione marrying someone else... it was just too much to take. There was no home, no children, no Hermione in his future anymore. He felt miserable, absolutely miserable. Then he felt her hand on his arm, shaking him awake.

"Harry?"

"Mmm... Hermione?"

"Harry are you alright? You were moaning? Was it another nightmare?"

He opened his eyes and she was a soft blur before him. Early morning light barely lit the room, but even without his glasses he could tell it was her. She was just as she'd been in his vision - her hair was falling in soft curls around her glowing face and she was wrapped tightly in her Gryffindor robe.

"Oh Hermione," he murmured, glad to be back in the future from his vision. He closed his eyes. "It was a nightmare... I dreamt...," she sat down next to him, then began gently smoothing his hair back from his forehead. "I dreamt you'd gone and married someone else instead of me..." Her hand stopped, resting lightly on his cheek. "And the children were gone too..."

"The... the children," she whispered.

He placed his hand over the one resting on his cheek, then opened his bleary eyes and sat up. He pulled her into a tight embrace, thankful to feel her again. She gave him a tentative hug back.

"It was awful," he said softly into her hair. "Promise you won't leave me."

"I... I promise Harry." She rubbed slow and comforting circles on his back, then she kissed his cheek. "You... you should try and get some rest Harry." She gently pulled back from him, then softly pressed his shoulder back into the bed.

"Stay," he whispered, his eyes closed as he turned into his pillow. She went back to smoothing his hair.

"I'll come back later. Go back to sleep Harry." She rose from the bed and kissed his temple. He smiled and drifted back off to sleep.

When Harry woke up he was in infinitely better spirits then when he'd gone to bed. The dreams he had at first reflected how miserable he'd been, but then things had come right again, and he'd had another 'vision' dream, as he'd now come to think of them. He woke Ron, and they in turn went to wake Ginny and the rest of the household before heading downstairs to open presents. The wonderful and fragrant smell of Mrs. Weasley's cooking drifted throughout the house while they all tore into their gifts. Despite the enormous quantity of food they'd had the night before, Harry was surprised to find that he was actually hungry for breakfast.

By far the most elaborate gift he received had been from Dumbledore. The note attached read, 'For the great strides you've taken this year in your training,' and when he opened it, he was amazed to find his very own pensieve. Everyone marveled at it, then Harry showed them how it worked by inviting everyone to share his memory of when he'd first met Ron on the train to Hogwarts.

"You look so young," Mrs. Weasley sniffed.

"What is that on your nose?"

"Shut it Ginny!"

The family later gathered around the table and Harry felt quite content and happy to be here. Everyone seemed in high spirits, and the twins had taken to placing large and luminous Christmas bows on everyone's heads.

"Pity Hermione had to miss this," Ron said through a mouthful of food, looking suggestively up at Harry. "I'm sure she would have loved to be here."

"Yeah," Harry agreed wistfully. "Maybe she'll have a chance to pop over for a bit later on."

"Are you two on about Hermione?" Ginny suddenly piped up. "I almost forgot," and she ran up the stairs, returning a moment later with two presents. "She left these both for you." Ginny placed the gifts in front of Ron and Harry, who both looked puzzled.

"Did she floo these over?" Ron glanced up at Ginny.

"No silly, she left them first thing this morning. It was right early too - said it was the only chance she had to get away."

"You saw Hermione this morning?" Harry was as surprised as Ron.

"Yeah, she was just outside your room. She said she was going to try and wake you, but changed her mind. Said she'd try to pop back later and left these with me. Oh, and Harry, nicely done by the way," she added.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"That robe from Gladrags. She looked great in it."

"The robe?"

"She had it on when she came by. Must have opened it first thing. Liked the slippers too. I didn't know you had such good taste." Harry blushed when he caught Mrs. Weasley eyeing him appreciatively as well as Ginny.

"But she said she'd be by later," Harry asked. Ginny nodded her head. "Well then, we best save these. I'd rather open presents with her when she comes back."

"Er, right," Ron agreed. He looked at Harry for a moment before continuing with his breakfast. Harry stared off into the distance, feeling as if he'd forgotten something important.

In the afternoon the family had gathered for an impromptu game of Quidditch, and Ginny had invited Luna around. After Harry had a chance to wish her a happy Christmas and give her his gift, he watched as Ron approached her rather nervously and asked her if she'd like to go with him to Hogsmeade on Valentine's Day.

'No time like the present I suppose.' Harry smiled.

Much later that evening, after nearly everyone else had finally gone to bed and Ron had beaten Harry for the fourth time in wizard's chess, both boys wondered if Hermione would be able to visit them or not. Ron stared wistfully at his unopened present, then looked at Harry.

"Oh alright, but I'm saving mine." Harry told him.

Ron grinned, then opened his present.

"Hey, look!" He held up the pair of Quidditch keeper gloves, and pointed at the small gold monogram on the backs of the hands that read 'RBW'. "Well done Hermione!" There was also a scarf she had knitted for him that had Quidditch hoops stitched into bottom along with his initials. Harry noticed that apparently she had also been to Honeydukes, considering the large number of confections lining the bottom of the box.

Ron stood up and stretched. "I don't think she's coming mate," he glanced at his watch. "Probably got stuck watching her younger cousins or something. You coming up to bed then?"

Harry glanced at the unopened present now resting in his lap. "Yeah, I suppose so." He stood and stretched, then both boys jumped at the sudden crack of Hermione apparating into the living room.

"Happy Christmas you two!" She beamed at them, then grabbed them both in a tight hug. "Sorry I couldn't come sooner. I had to wait for Annabelle to fall asleep. Took forever! I nearly took to spiking her eggnog." She was dressed for bed, but was wearing the robe and slippers that Harry had bought her.

"Ginny said you were here this morning," Harry said. He noticed her pale slightly.

"Oh, yeah, well, I wanted to make sure you had my gifts, in case... in case I couldn't make it back. In fact, I'm not certain how long I can stay tonight. I'm afraid she might wake up and come looking for me."

"Thanks for these Hermione, they're really great!" Ron flashed the gloves and scarf at her.

"And thanks for the quill. It will really come in handy next year."

"See, I told you," he said to Harry.

"And Harry, thank you so much for the robe. It's really... well, it's really nice." Harry blushed a bit, then Ron spoke up.

"Well, I was just heading up to bed. Thanks again Hermione." He came forward and hugged her, and Harry could hear her murmur to Ron.

"Everything alright then?"

"Perfect," he murmured back. Then he smiled at the both of them, lingered on Harry, then went upstairs.

"He's really excited about Luna agreeing to go out with him," Harry told her.

"He actually asked her then?" Hermione was quite surprised. "That's fantastic." She looked towards the staircase.

"It really is," he smiled at Hermione, and she noticed him staring at her and reddened slightly. Then she saw the present she'd left for him resting on the sofa.

"Oh Harry, you haven't opened your gift." She walked over and picked it up.

"I wanted to wait until you were here," he told her. She looked disappointed.

"But... oh, well, I guess there's not much use for it 'til next year anyway." Then she saw the pensieve resting on the table. "Oh Harry, is this what I think it is?"

"It's from Dumbledore. He said it was for all the work I've put into my occlumency."

"That's fantastic Harry," she knelt and let her fingers trace the runes on the bowl.

"Hermione? Did you really think that I fancied Luna?" He saw her stand up and stiffen slightly, her back to him. She seemed to take a breath, then turned to face him.

"Well, I mean, not at first. Ron seemed so certain though. And then... then there was the way you've been acting."

"What do you mean?"

"Harry," she looked up at him, somewhat surprised that he'd moved closer. "The last couple of days you've been... I don't know exactly. Oh, this is going to sound so silly, but Harry, the last few days you've been acting... well, happy!"

Harry couldn't help but laugh. "And I'm hardly one to be happy, now am I," he teased.

"Oh you know what mean. I don't just mean happy, but you've been smiling nearly all the time, and then you suddenly seemed to take such an interest in Luna - it's not ridiculous to see how Ron could have come to those conclusions. And then...," but she stopped herself.

"Then what?"

"It's nothing really, nevermind." She lowered her head.

He stepped closer to her, then placed his hands on her shoulders. "Then what Hermione?"

She looked up nervously at him. "You never told us... I mean, about how you'd spoken to Luna last year and how she... how she helped you come to understand things... I mean, after all of that, I could certainly understand Ron's concern."

Harry realized something.

"Not just Ron's concern." He saw that she understood what he meant.

"No, not just Ron's concern."

"Because when I need to talk about something, something serious, I usually talk to you."

She lowered her head again. "I know, silly, isn't it?"

"No, it's not silly at all. I'm sorry Hermione."

"Harry," she looked at him again, "you don't need to apologize to me because... because you couldn't talk to me. Now that really would be silly." She gave a half hearted smile. "Besides, if she helped you cope with what happened, well, that's really what's important Harry. It would be selfish of me to think otherwise."

"I like that you're selfish when it comes to me." He leaned closer to her and her eyelids fluttered. He softly touched her cheek. "I'm selfish when it comes to you too."

"Y-you are?" Her voice was soft.

"I'm very selfish when it comes to you, Hermione." Then he leaned forward and things moved beautifully slow for him as he memorized everything that happened. She was looking into his eyes, and then hers softly closed. She leaned towards him and tilted her head to the side. He closed his eyes and when their lips met, he felt as if he'd come home. It was soft and warm and almost chaste, but more than anything it was hope and promise and comfort. Everything worth fighting for.

They slowly broke apart, their eyes still shut as they savored the moment. Then Harry tentatively opened his eyes to find Hermione shyly smiling at him.

"Happy Christmas," she whispered.

"The happiest," he smiled back at her, then leaned forward
to kiss her again. A few moments later as they held each other, she spoke up.
"You didn't open your gift."

"I don't need anything more than this," he grinned. She looked up at him and rolled her eyes.

"Just open it will you. I worked really hard on it."

"Alright then," he went to the sofa and opened the package. Hermione looked up at him expectantly, trying gauge his reaction.

"Do you like it?" She became alarmed when he looked at her with tears in his eyes. "Harry! What is it? Did... did I do something? Is it... is it really that awful?" She began to panic slightly.

"How... how did you know?"

"What?"

"How...?" He suddenly seemed to be at a loss for words.

"I just... I figured you never had one before, so I wanted to make you one. I'm sorry... I had no idea..."

"It's perfect Hermione," he sniffed. "You have no idea how perfect it is." He took off his glasses and swiped at his eyes, then wrapped her into a tight hug. After a moment he loosened his grip and they found themselves kissing again while snuggled on the sofa. Several minutes passed before they were simply snuggling again, her head resting on his chest, his hands absentmindedly playing with her hair.

"Harry, can I ask you something?"

"Hmm," he murmured.

"How many children?"

His hand stopped for a moment as her question and it's implications completely sank in.

"That was actually you this morning, wasn't it?"

"How many?"

"Three."

He felt her laughing softly into his chest.

"Well that's quite the expectation. Tell me, was it that vision quest, like what happened with Ron?"

"Yeah, but it was a lot more than what Ron experienced."

"Tell me."

"Are you sure you want to know... I thought you said divination was a wooly subject."

"McGonagall said that, and my faith is in you, not divination."

Harry took a moment to consider. He slowly sat up, then picked up Hermione's gift to him, the red hand knitted Christmas stocking with the snitch on it.

"Would you like me to show you," he asked, then looked at the pensieve. Her eyes widened.

"Oh Harry, are you sure?" She realized how intimate this must be, sharing his actual memory with her.

He looked at her intently, then stood and drew her up off the couch. They walked over to the pensieve.

"Hermione, when it comes to you, I've never been more certain of anything in my life."

Then he pulled out his wand, withdrew the filmy silver ribbon of memory from his temple, and placed it into the bowl. He then grasped her hand and they both leaned into the memory. Harry would share everything with her from now on - she was his hope, she was his love.

And Hermione saw what Harry saw, and she laughed at her voluptuous older self. She cried when she saw the children. She laughed again when she saw memory-Harry try to figure out what was happening.

When they returned to the Burrow Harry looked hopefully at her, concerned at how she might react. She turned to him, that connection between them stronger than ever. She understood. She felt the same way, and, most importantly, she wanted that future as much as he did.

She told him all this with a simple smile.