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Re-Awakening by mysticdueler
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Re-Awakening

mysticdueler

A/N: Okay, here it is. I finally managed to get it done! I've been fairly busy. And the next time I update may be even longer, unfortunately. Next weekend I leave town for three days to participate in my state's All-State Orchestra. I leave on Thursday and get back Saturday, so I have no clue when I'll be back to update. I hope you like it; I took my time writing it, and it's a big-a mother (longest by far!). Tell me what you think!

Disclaimer: Okay, here's the normal deal: I don't own it, never have, never will. Yadda yadda yadda. Now, on with the show!

Surprises at the Grangers

"Mum! Dad! I'm home!" In a much softer voice, she turned to Harry and said, "Come on in, Harry, don't be afraid. My parents are wonderful people. You'll like them." Hermione had no sooner shut the door after Harry walked timidly in when a woman with familiar brown eyes and dark blond, bushy hair rushed in and wrapped her in a very Mrs. Weasley-esque hug.

"Oh, Hermione, thank god you're all right! We were so worried!" She let go of Hermione before breaking in anew, "Don't you ever do that to us again! That attack in Surrey was all over the news! When I heard that Vernon Dursley was killed in a mysterious explosion, I nearly fainted on the spot! Then you don't write for over three days! You could have been seriously hurt, or killed!" Hermione's mother took a deep breath and grabbed Hermione in a fierce hug again. "Thank goodness you're all right!"

"Helen, dear, maybe you should let Hermione go now. I dare say she would appreciate being able to breathe again." The voice came from a man that had just walked into the hallway, his blue eyes crinkled up in mirth, a hand running through his short brown hair.

"Oh, Robert, you know I'll never let her go! Not really." Mrs. Granger looked back to her daughter, smiled, and said, "It's so good to have you back home safe and sound. Now, tell me, if you weren't harmed in the explosion, what's kept you? What could possibly be so important that you'd forget your dear old mother?"

"I think you and I both know the answer to that one, dear." Hermione's parents shared a look, then focused on Hermione again, and said at the exact same time, "Harry Potter." The slight blush that appeared on Hermione's cheeks was answer enough for them. A sudden noise behind them made Mr. and Mrs. Granger spin around suddenly; Hermione already knew whom it was.

"Who are you, and what are you doing in my house?" Mr. Granger's voice was authoritative, and carried a slight hint of threat to it; all traces of joviality were gone. As he spoke he took a couple of menacing steps toward the intruder, who stepped further back into the shadows, cringing in fear.

"Daddy, stop!" Hermione ran in front of her father. She turned to the intruder, walked up, and placed her hand on his arm. The intruder flinched at the contact. "Don't worry, he won't hurt you. None of us will. It's all right, Harry. You're safe here, I promise."

"Wait a moment, that-that's Harry? Harry Potter?" Mr. Granger's whole appearance changed instantly; he relaxed and the light, humorous voice returned. "Oh, well then, sorry about that, son. You startled me, and, well, you are in the shadows, there. Come here so I can get a good look at you. We've heard quite a lot about you, but have never been properly introduced." Mr. Granger held out his hand to shake Harry's, a smile once again on his face.

"Go ahead, Harry. It's all right, I'm right here behind you," Hermione encouraged Harry, gently walking him forward.

As soon as Harry stepped out of the shadows and into the better-lit center of the hallway, Mrs. Granger gasped, Mr. Grangers smile faded, and his arm drooped down to his side. "Holy . . ." Hermione's parents shot each other concerned looks, then looked back at Harry. Under the dim yellow light shining down from the electric chandelier, Harry's gaunt look was made even more garish. His pale skin stood with even more contrast against the many cuts, scratches, and scars. He had his head lowered, so that part of his face was still in shadow, with his eyes gleaming dully out from the darkness. The overall effect was to make Harry look like some kind of perverse wax figurine brought to life; like a very battered, evil-looking mannequin of sorts.

Hermione moved from behind Harry to place herself between Harry and her parents, like a sort of shield. "Mom, Dad, Harry has been through a very terrible and trying ordeal. I'm not sure as to what extent, but I do know that it is very bad."

"But who did this? He looks like he's been tortured!" Mr. Granger was finding it hard no maintain his temper.

"Mom, Dad, that man that was killed, Vernon Dursley, he was Harry's uncle. He-he was the one that did this to Harry." At the mention of Vernon's name, Harry gave a slight shudder. Sensing this, Hermione gave Harry's hand a gentle squeeze, to which he didn't let go. Upon hearing Hermione's statement, Mrs. Granger gasped again, while Mr. Granger looked furious.

"He did this? But why? What possible reasons could anyone have to treat a person, a young boy at that, in such a manner?"

"Because, I'm a freak; a dirty, filthy, vile freak." Harry spoke softly, yet the Grangers heard every word. Hermione let go of Harry's hand and moved until she was standing directly in front of Harry. She placed one hand on each of his shoulders, then said in a slightly trembling voice, "Harry, don't you ever say that about yourself. You know it's not true. You are a kind, caring, compassionate human being, and a powerful wizard to boot." Harry slowly raised his head and looked her in the eyes.

"No," he whispered. "I am a freak. I'm not normal, I - " Hermione stopped him by placing her hand over his mouth.

"Harry, of course you're not normal, you're a wizard." Normally, her voice would have held a bit of sarcasm and exasperation; now it was deadly serious, solemn. "But being different doesn't make you a freak. All it does is make you special, unique. And you, Harry Potter, are a very special wizard." As she said his name, she gently tapped the tip of his nose. "At least, you're special to me. So, Harry, please stop degrading yourself. If not for your own sake, then do it for me. Please?"

Harry was still looking straight into her eyes, having not once looked away. All Harry saw looking out at him was kindness, compassion, and sincerity. Something within him was stirred by her look, a feeling he had long ago set aside: trust. He took a deep breath and lowered his head, unable to maintain the link. "I, I don't know if I can, Hermione. I can't escape who I am, what I am, what I was born." He raised his head to reveal a solitary tear streaking down his face. "But, I'll try. For you . . ." Smiling warmly at him, Hermione pulled him into a gentle hug, and whispered into his ear, "Thank you, that's all I ask."

The sound of Mr. Granger clearing his throat brought them back to reality. Hermione pulled away, reluctantly, then turned to face her parents. "Well, um, where was I? Oh, that's right, the Dursleys." Hermione's face darkened before she continued. "Mum, Dad, exactly what did the news say happened, again?"

"Well," began Mrs. Granger, "all they said was that there was a gigantic gas explosion that damaged several properties and left one man dead. Why do you ask, dear?"

"That wasn't an gas explosion. It was the result of an attack on Harry, made by a servant of Voldemort."

"What? You were attacked? Did anything happen to you?" Before Mrs. Granger could continue, however, Hermione held her hand up to silence her.

"Yes, Mum, but I'm fine, thanks to Harry. He fended off the attacker (Harry was actually the one who caused the explosion). But, in the process, his uncle was killed." Under her breath, Hermione added, "Which was far better than he deserved." Returning to her normal voice, Hermione continued. "Now Harry doesn't have a place to live. Dumbledore recommended, and I highly agree with him, that Harry come and stay with us. That is all right, isn't it?"

Both Mr. and Mrs. Granger noticed the sincerity, and hope, in their daughter's voice. They looked at each other, before Mr. Granger spoke up. "Well, I certainly don't think there's anything wrong with that. What do you think, honey?"

"No, I don't see any problems."

Hermione smiled and turned to Harry, but the smile faded when she saw the withdrawn look on his face. "Harry, what's wrong? My parents just said you're staying, you should be happy."

Harry looked at Hermione, pausing briefly before he turned his gaze towards Hermione's parents. "Mr. Granger, sir, I'm sorry, but I can't accept you hospitality. I'm just not worth it." Every syllable in his last sentence was spoken with heavy self-loathing. Harry once again dropped his head, as if hiding his face in shame.

"Why, that's nonsense! We have a spare guestroom that nobody is using that will serve just fine! And, please, call me Robert. Mr. Granger is my father." Robert was once again smiling.

"Yes, and please call me Helen. It makes me feel younger than I really am!" Helen's face held the beginnings of laughter in every corner.

"Please, sir, don't waste your valuable resources on someone as worthless as me." Harry still had yet to lift his head, and the words he spoke were both bitter yet sincere-sounding.

To say that the three Grangers were taken aback hardly does them justice. Helen and Robert, who were still not used to Harry, were staring at him, utterly bewildered and abashed. Hermione, who had already witnessed Harry like this before, was still shocked to see exactly how deeply the scars ran. `Just how bad is it? How much do we have to work through? Will I be able to do it?' A voice from her memories floated to the surface of her mind: `There is no Harry Potter here . . . only It . . .' Hermione shuddered before taking a step closer to Harry. `I will, I must!'

"Harry, look at me." Slowly, Harry raised his head, yet he wouldn't meet her eyes. "Harry, please?" Hesitatingly, Harry looked at her. When his green eyes met her brown ones, he found himself unable to look away. "Harry, I made a promise to you. Do you remember that promise? Just in case you don't, I'll make it again. Harry Potter, I am not going to leave your side, nor will I allow you to push me away. You're stuck with me. So, if you do decide to leave and not stay, then I'll go with you, which would be a bigger hassle than if you stayed. So, why not save yourself the trouble, and stay here, where you'll have a nice comfy bed, plenty of food and water, and, most importantly, be welcomed?"

"It-it's just that I, I don't want to be a burden. I'm always a burden." This time Harry spoke with much less scorn in his voice, though the sadness was still there in droves.

"Harry, you won't be a burden. In fact, there's very little I'd rather do than be able to spend time with you. Think of it as keeping me company, if it helps." Hermione looked over at her parents, who both had knowing smiles on their faces. Blushing slightly, Hermione focused back on Harry, who was looking slightly less melancholy. Suddenly, he yawned tremendously, reminding both of them exactly how tired they were. Looking over her shoulder at her parents, Hermione said, "I'll go show Harry to his room, then head to bed myself. We've had a very busy day. Good night, Mum, Dad!"

"Good night, honey," responded Helen.

"If you need anything, we'll be up for a while longer," was Robert's reply.

"Come on Harry, let's go. I can only imagine how tired you must be." When Harry didn't move fast enough, Hermione grabbed his hand and half-pulled him up the stairs. "Harry, you room is right here," Hermione said, pointing to the door to the right of the top landing. "The bathroom is the second door on the left. My room is the one right next to yours."

Harry walked into his new bedroom, Hermione following him not far behind. It was fairly simple; not incredibly large, but larger than anything he had ever been in before (save his Gryffindor dorm). The bed was on the opposite side of the room as the door, and ran parallel to the wall. It had on light blue-green sheets with a comforter folded up at the foot and a couple of pillows at the head. On the wall to the left of the bed was a window, underneath that sat a desk with a small computer perched on top. The wall opposite the bed held the dresser, dark cedar with four drawers and a mirror on top. The walls were simply white, and the floor was brown carpeting. Harry felt a calming presence that seemed to radiate from everywhere. "Sorry if it's not much."

Harry turned and looked Hermione straight in the eye. "It's wonderful. It's the best room I've ever been in. I don't deserve this. I don't deserve you."

"Oh, Harry." Hermione walked over and wrapped her arms around him, laying her head against his chest. "Harry, out of all the people I know, you deserve this the most. You've gone through so much, it's only right that you be repaid. I'm just glad I'm the one that gets to do it." She released him and began to walk out. Just as she reached the door, she stopped, turned, and said, "All right Harry, time for you to get some sleep. Remember, I'm right next door, so if you need anything, you'll know where to find me. The bathroom is the second door on your left." With that, Hermione turned to leave, but stopped once more. This time it was Harry's voice that stopped her.

"H-Hermione? C-could you stay here, at least for a little while?" Harry was starting to look anxious and frightened again.

"Of course, Harry. And, no, before you say anything, I don't mind. I'm not quite as tired as you, so I'll be okay." Hermione sat down in the desk chair and scooted it closer to the bed. Harry, not having any other clothes, simply crawled into the bed and pulled the covers up. He lied down on his side, facing Hermione, and almost immediately felt his eyes become heavy and his mind begin to shut down. Hermione subconsciously reached over with one hand and began to play with his hair, letting her fingers run through it, massaging the scalp slightly. It was not long before Harry's breaths became deep and regular as he slipped into the world of the unconscious. Hermione stood up and bent over Harry's sleeping form, placing a soft kiss on his forehead. "Good night, Harry. Sleep well." Hermione whispered as she stood and quietly left the room.

*****

Harry was lying on the beach, sunlight washing over him. He opened his eyes to see crystal-blue skies with only the occasional fluffy ball of cloud. Sitting up he was able to see out over the water, which was clear and even for miles away. A gentle breeze blew, ruffling his hair. Harry heard a soft sigh of content coming from down in the sand next to his right. He looked down and saw a gorgeous woman stretched out, completely relaxed, eyes closed.

Harry leaned over and placed a soft kiss on her cheek, causing her to smile. "Harry . .." she breathed out. Inching closer, Harry whispered into her ear, "I love you, Hermione." Lifting his head, he looked into her eyes, and instantly was lost. So many emotions overcame Harry at the moment, swirling around inside and causing his heart to beat rapidly.

Hermione lifted her head up to meet Harry's lips and captured them in a kiss. It was a soft kiss, gentle and slow, but full of passion all the same. Hermione pulled away, leaving Harry breathing hard, and said, "And I love you, Harry."

Suddenly, a sharp, strong gust of wind blew up, blasting Harry with sand. Looking up, the couple saw that the sky had become overcast and gray, thick with dark ominous clouds. Thunder could be heard not too far off. Without warning, the clouds opened up and a torrent of rain began beating down. Another blast of wind, and the storm was upon them. They jumped up and began running along, although to what destination Harry was unsure; Hermione was in the lead. Within moments, the sky was dark as dusk, and Harry could barely make out Hermione's form flitting ahead of him in the lightning flashes.

The ocean had grown choppy, and waves were starting to crash onto the shore. A wave hit Harry and he was knocked off his feet. He looked up, just in time to see a huge wave crash into Hermione and send her sprawling. When his vision cleared, she was gone . . . "Hermione! HERMIONE!!"

******

Harry woke suddenly, flashes of the dream still running through his mind. Looking around the room, Harry was confused. Where was he? Spotting his glasses on a nearby desk, Harry reached over and grabbed them. Slipping them on, he noticed a clock on the dresser read 5:00 a.m. Five! A dread panic started to rise in him. Oh no, he'd overslept! That left him hardly any time to fix breakfast before Master awoke. He'd have to hurry.

Harry jumped out of bed and ran, quietly, out of the room. `Upstairs? What am I doing upstairs? I must have passed out in Dudley's second room again.' Harry quickly sprinted down the stairs, hardly making a sound as he jumped the last four steps. The house was dark enough so that he could just barely make out where certain objects were located, but not what they were. `I must have gotten myself mixed up. This isn't the way to the kitchen.'

Somehow, Harry managed to find the kitchen, and then set to work straight away. Master liked his bacon well fried, his eggs scrambled, and his coffee fresh. Harry decided to cook up a big breakfast, just in case Master was angry with him this morning, as he sometimes was. As Harry began to flit around, his panic kept rising. `Where is everything. Nothing is where I remember putting it. I must have misplaced them when I was cleaning. Oh, I don't think I'll be ready in time! Must hurry!'

*****

Six o'clock rolled by, and Hermione's alarm went off, like it did every morning. Slowly she opened her eyes, rather uneager to shake off sleep. Once again, she was having a wonderful dream involving her and Harry and . . . Harry! With that thought in mind, Hermione was awake. She threw on her favorite bathrobe over her pajamas, and made her way to Harry's room. "Harry, are you up yet?" She stopped in the doorframe of a very Harry-free room. The sheets on the bed looked as if they had been thrown off in a hurry. From her new vantage point, she could hear sounds coming from the kitchen downstairs. `Hmm, Harry must have woken up and gone down with my parents.'

"Hermione, dear, is something wrong?" Helen's voice sounded just behind her, startling her.

"Hmm, wha? No, no, I'm fine. It's just that Harry's not in his room. So, you think it safe to leave Harry alone with Dad?"

"Leave whom alone with me?" Robert's voice came wafting down the hall. He appeared suddenly standing next to Helen; both of them wearing similar bathrobes.

"But, if you're both here, who's downstairs? Harry!" With that, Hermione tore past her parents and down the stairs. Helen and Robert followed shortly thereafter, beginning to worry what had their daughter so worked up. When they reached the entrance to the kitchen, they found Hermione standing frozen, looking in. Looking past her, they saw what had arrested her progress. Harry was dashing around the kitchen as if he owned it, hastily dishing up various breakfast items.

"H-Harry?" At the sound of his name, Harry looked up, and promptly dropped the silverware he had just gathered to set. An outsider looking in would have found the scene incredibly amusing. The Grangers were standing outside the kitchen, staring in surprise at Harry, who was in turn staring at the Grangers with an equal look of surprise. The sounds of sizzling bacon soon snapped Harry out of his shock, and he sprung back into action, moving at an even greater pace than before.

Within minutes, he had set the table for three, with serving plates piled high with pancakes, bacon, eggs, and toast, and a fresh pot of coffee to top things off. Harry stepped back from the table, and looked nervously at the Grangers. "I-I'm sorry breakfast wasn't ready in time. I-I overslept, and then I couldn't find things, and, please, please forgive me. I won't let it happen again, I swear!"

Robert was the first to recover, taking a step forward into the kitchen. "My word . . . and it smells so good! What - how, how did you cook all of this? And why?"

"I, I woke up at five. I got here as quick as I could. I'm sorry I wasn't faster; I kept getting lost. I - I always make breakfast. I always have . . ." Harry said, turning his head away. Hermione, who had walked in with her mother, stepped over to Harry. "It's okay Harry. This isn't the Dursleys, you didn't have to do this."

"She's right, you know. As always," Helen quipped. "Harry, dear, you're our guest here. We should be the ones feeding you, not the other way around." Helen paused to take a good look at the table. "I must say, though, that I am very impressed. It all smells so wonderful! Thank you, Harry. But, from now on, leave the cooking to Hermione and me, all right?"

"Are you sure about that, dear?" Robert asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "After all, you remember the last time you let Hermione cook." As both of her parents looked at her, Hermione blushed, and mumbled, "I said I was sorry. Besides, that was three years ago."

Looking at Harry, Robert said, "Hermione here thought she could cook."

"Daddy, please!" Hermione's face was growing redder.

"As I recall, her attempts gave me food poisoning for three days." Seeing the look on their daughter's face, both Helen and Robert broke out laughing. A few seconds later, Hermione forgot her embarrassment and began laughing with them. At one point, Harry even began to smile, even if it was just at the absurdity of the situation. As the last ringing of laughter died away, the Grangers seated themselves at the table, ready to tuck into Harry's marvelous-smelling (and looking) breakfast feast. Hermione turned to the empty side of the table reserved for guests to ask Harry how he had slept, only to find it empty still. Looking around the kitchen, Hermione saw Harry standing in front of the sink, about to start washing the dishes.

"Harry, aren't you hungry? Come on, sit and have some breakfast with us." Hermione waved her hand to indicate the empty chair as she spoke.

"Yes, do sit. Don't you want to try the wonderful pancakes you made? Delicious, by the way!" Helen looked at Harry as she spoke, her admiration and fondness of the boy growing greatly already.

"What? J-join you, and eat?" Harry looked bewildered, and slightly frightened. "B-but, there's still work to do . . . I have to clean the dishes,"

"Harry," Hermione said gently.

" . . . wash the laundry,"

"Harry," this time a little louder.

" . . . sweep the - "

"Harry!" Hermione finally shouted, out of frustration, stopping Harry mid-sentence. At the loud utterance of his name, Harry's face lost the bewildered look, leaving only fear. His entire body seemed to stiffen, and he immediately dropped his head. Realizing what her outburst had done, Hermione jumped up and made her way quickly toward him. "Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to scare you like that." As she spoke, she gave him a gentle hug. While he had tensed up even further at first, Harry slowly began to relax after hearing her gentle words.

When Hermione sensed that Harry had fully relaxed (or at least was as relaxed as he would get), she stepped back and looked at him. "Harry." Hermione paused to make sure she had his full attention, before continuing. "Harry, I'm sorry for what the Dursleys did to you, and I feel terrible that I did nothing to stop it. I should have realized that something was wrong sooner." She could sense that Harry was about to say something, so she hurriedly pressed on. "But you're not at the Dursleys anymore. Whatever they said or did no longer applies, all right? You're here at the Granger household now, so you'll go by what we say, not the Dursleys, got it?" Hermione ended with a smile on her face.

"Yes, Hermione," Harry replied, once more dropping his head. Hermione sighed to herself. This wasn't exactly what she was hoping for. She was about to say something else to reassure Harry, when Robert spoke up.

"Harry, can you come here, please?" Harry walked over slowly and stood next to Robert, uneasy about what would come. Hermione followed close by, wondering what her father was up to. Robert had a very stern and serious look upon his face. "Harry, I'm glad to see that you know how things are going to work around here. However, I'd just like to lay out a few . . . ground rules. I'll only say this once, so pay attention, understand?" Harry nodded solemnly. "Good. I have just one thing to say to you." Robert's face broke into a wide grin. "Do whatever you like, and make sure you enjoy yourself. And absolutely no work or labor of any sorts, do I make myself clear?" Harry, who was looking extremely confused, merely nodded his head as if in a daze. "Good. Now that that's settled, would you care to join us for breakfast? You look absolutely famished." Harry absentmindedly sat down at the table, grabbed a plate, and began to serve himself. Hermione turned to her father, a huge `thank you' ready to escape her lips, but before she could say anything, Robert winked at her, then said, "you too, Hermione. Your breakfast is getting cold." Hermione sat down, Harry on her left, her father on her right. She glanced again at her father, who was still grinning at her, then over to Harry who was now eating the single pancake he had picked out. `Well, it's not much, but at least it's a start,' thought Hermione before digging in to her own breakfast.

*****

Harry sat in the backseat of the Grangers' car, Hermione sitting on his right. The last couple of hours had been some of the strangest of his life by far. All three of the Grangers had decided to remedy Harry's clothing problem by taking him shopping. For over two hours he was asked, or rather, forced to try on item after item. While Helen and Hermione had gone off looking at shirts, pants, and who knows what else, Robert had taken Harry aside.

"Harry, I've got a few important questions to ask you. I hope you don't mind." As he was talking, he began to walk, not hurriedly, or in any seemingly specific direction.

"No, sir." Harry said, automatically.

"Now what did I say? Please, call me Robert. No need to be so formal, now!"

"Yes, sir. Sorry - Robert."

"Ah, that's better." Robert smiled down at Harry, who was looking somewhat uncomfortable. "Relax, Harry. There's no need to worry yourself. I promise I won't bite." Harry still looked uncomfortable, but he did appear a little more relaxed. "Good. Now then, question one. How, at this very moment, do you feel? Are you nervous, scared, happy, sad, exhilarated?" Caught off guard, Harry could only stutter for a while.

"Um, uh, I mean, er. I, I suppose I'm a little nervous, sir. I mean, Robert." For a brief second, Harry looked frightened, but it quickly passed when Robert gave him a huge smile. "I mean, I don't even know you, and yet here you are, treating me as if I was a normal person. Like I meant something to you. I don't know why . . ." Harry's voice faded out, and he seemed to withdraw in himself.

"Harry, I thought we already agreed that you would stop beating yourself up over this. Besides, you seem to be so caught up in yourself that you've failed to realize that you do mean something to me, to my wife, and most importantly, to my daughter, Hermione. I don't think you realize exactly how valuable your company has been over the past few years." At this, Robert turned sharply to walk down an aisle.

"Question two," Robert began as soon as Harry had caught up, "Tell me what you think about my daughter. I want to see if you might be taking her for granted."

This sudden question once again caught Harry unawares. But this time, instead of stumbling along with words, he remained quiet, lost in his thoughts. What did he think of Hermione. No one had ever asked him that before, nor had he been given time to think. For the first time ever, Harry looked back over all the years he had known Hermione, looking at what she had done, what she had helped him with. Robert looked at Harry as they walked along, quite proud of himself. Harry, meanwhile, was so lost in thought he hardly watched where he was going, and had to be pulled out of the way of oncoming people (and support pillars) several times by Robert.

Finally, Harry looked up at this strange man and began to voice his thoughts. "I suppose, that I owe her my life. On more than one occasion. I - she - she's just always there. Always Hermione, exactly what I need, when I need it. I owe her so much. I don't deserve to have her as my friend. I can't believe I had the audacity to take someone as kind, caring, beautiful, generous, trustworthy as Hermione, and make her miserable. You shouldn't let her be near me anymore. You - " Harry was cut off when Robert placed his hand on Harry's shoulder and stopped them both.

"Harry," Robert said warningly, "that's more than enough." He sighed, then began, "Harry you're not a bad person. As I said before, your companionship with Hermione over these last five years has made her very happy. Before, she didn't have many friends, and was rather lonely, I'm afraid. But, after her first year, she came back home talking about her new classes, but even more about her new friends, Ron Weasley and Harry Potter. Thank you for helping to make my daughter happy." Robert looked closely at Harry and saw that he seemed to have calmed himself a little bit.

"Last question, Harry." Harry raised his head and looked at Robert. "Boxers or briefs?" Harry looked extremely puzzled, and looked around. Realizing where he was, his face grew to a bright shade of red. He had been so focused that he wasn't aware that Robert had led him right into the men's underwear section. Harry made a nondescript mumbling sound in response. "I'm sorry, Harry, didn't quite catch that." Robert said, an annoyingly large grin on his face, his eyes lit with laughter.

"I said, boxers," Harry said, growing redder.

*****

By the time they had returned to the Grangers' and Harry had packed away his new clothes, it was just after two in the afternoon. Harry was lying on his bed, feeling a little antsy at not doing anything, when he heard a soft knock on the open door. "Hey, Harry. I'm not bothering you, am I?" Hermione asked as she came in.

"No, not at all." Harry said without looking up. Hermione sat down in the chair, and turned to face Harry.

"Is anything wrong? You seem a little, tense."

"Well, it's just that, normally I'd be doing . . . things. I guess I'm just not used to relaxing," Harry said morosely.

"How about we take a walk? That way, you won't be restless. There's a beautiful park nearby that's lovely this time of day." Harry looked over at Hermione. While her tone of voice had been off-hand, he could tell she was hopeful he would like her idea. Harry sat up, smiled, and said,

"Sure, Hermione. That sounds like a great idea."

Harry and Hermione made their way downstairs, where they found Robert reading the paper. "Dad, I'm going to go and show Harry the park. We'll be back in about an hour or two."

"Alright. Be careful. Don't stay out too late!" Robert called out after them.

The ten minutes it took t walk to the park were spent in silence. Hermione, naturally, would give out the occasional direction, but said nothing in the remainder of the time, which she spent quietly studying Harry. Harry, on the other hand, was busy contemplating what had happened to him in the past couple of days. His main focus began on the scene he had witnessed in the Pensieve. He still couldn't believe that had been him. But why couldn't he remember it? His mind then flashed to the discussion with Dumbledore. Harry was beginning to feel anxious about his soon-to-be training with the great Dumbledore. He remembered vaguely the fight in the Atrium between Dumbledore and Voldemort, and how helpless he had been. Now he would be facing off against Dumbledore, learning from him. Would he be able to measure up, or would he surely fail again like he always did? His thoughts once more strayed, this time to the subject of the venerable old wizard himself. Harry once again had the feeling Dumbledore knew more than he was letting on. A sudden flash of anger welled up inside him, yet Harry could place no cause other than Dumbledore.

"Harry, we're here." Hermione's voice shook Harry from his thoughts. Harry shook his head to clear the remaining images, and then looked around. He found himself in one of the most relaxing places he had ever seen. All around him there were small swells of green earth, rolling gently, cluttered by clumps of green trees. The afternoon sun was shinning down, the heat feeling warm and comfortable on his face. A breeze blew by, shaking the leaves in the trees so that they whispered to Harry in their soft voices, as if in greeting. Harry soon felt all the tension leaving his body, all the nightmarish images fading from his mind, and an easy peace come and take their places. He sighed in content.

"So, Harry, how about that walk?" Hermione asked, pointing to a path that could be seen snaking its way around tree and hill. In response, Harry simply nodded his head, still too wrapped up in the utter beauty of the park. Sensing Harry's momentary mental leave of absence, Hermione shook her head, grabbed Harry's hand, and began to walk. They continued in this way for several laps around the park; Hermione glancing at Harry, her mind rarely pausing in thought about him, while Harry was looking around at everything and nothing.

As they passed by a small wooden bench under the shadow of a tree, Hermione stopped them and asked, "Harry, why don't we rest here for a while before heading back, alright?" Harry nodded and sat down with Hermione, still holding her hand. Sitting there on that bench, bathed in the warm sunlight, Hermione's comforting presence next to him, Harry found himself wanting to nod off. He leaned into her, and rested his head on her shoulder. Sensing the sudden weight against her, Hermione freed her hand from Harry's and wrapped her arm around him. `Oh, Harry. If only I could have been there for you sooner. How could I have been so foolish? I allowed myself to get emotional and I overreacted. I don't know how, but I'll make it up to you. I'll protect you from now on. I won't let anything else bad happen to you!'

After allowing Harry rest for half an hour (as well as enjoy the sensation of him resting against her), Hermione gently woke him up. "Come on, Harry. It's almost five. Time to head home." Harry blinked slowly, then sat up straight. Instantly, he felt colder and missed the warmth from Hermione.

"You're warm and comfy, Hermione," Harry mumbled out, half-awake, before he began rubbing the sleep from his eyes (and therefore missing Hermione's blush). Looking around, Harry noticed how late it had gotten. "Oh! It's late! Hermione, I'm sorry. Please forgive me, I didn't mean to fall asleep. Oh, now your father is going to be furious, isn't he? I'll - I'll say it was my fault, and take the punishment. Hermione, I'm sorry."

"Harry! Relax! It's all right. We're not late, the hour is. My father won't be angry, although he will begin to worry if we stay out much longer. You see, I, um, kinda tend to, uh, loose track of time, when I'm here, so my parents are used to me coming home late. And besides, why would we be punished?" Sudden realization struck Hermione. "H-Harry? W-what I saw in the Hospital Wing, those scars," Harry tensed up suddenly, and Hermione held his hand, giving it a comfortable squeeze. "W-were those, punishments?"

Harry began to tremble slightly. "I . . . I . . . It's mostly all just a blur, the past few weeks. I can't recall much, but I know I often did wrong things, bad things, and needed to be punished." At this point, Harry closed his eyes and shivered, despite it being a warm day.

"Harry . . ." Hermione couldn't think of anything to say, so she simply turned and hugged Harry hard. Harry, still catching brief glimpses of his days spent with the Dursleys, flinched bodily at the first contact. Looking up, he saw Hermione's face, tears ready to spill out her eyes, and remembered where he was and whom he was with, and relaxed.

"Come on, Harry," Hermione sniffed out, rubbing her eyes. "Let's go home. Dinner will be ready shortly, I imagine." As one, they rose from the bench and began the long trek home, Hermione once again grabbing Harry's hand.

*****

"Mum, Dad, we're back! Sorry we're a little late!" Hermione shouted into her house as she closed the door. Somewhere from in the kitchen, Helen's voice responded,

"That's all right. Dinner will be ready in about an hour. Oh, by the way, Hermione, you had a delivery while you were out. A letter of sorts. I've got it in here with me."

"Thanks, Mum!" Hermione shouted back. She turned to Harry and asked, "Do you want to come with me? I'm sure it will only take a moment. Besides, if you're hungry you can grab a snack to tide you over." Harry still looked doubtful, but agreed all the same; he didn't feel like being alone at the moment, or at least, he didn't want to be away from Hermione.

As Harry and Hermione entered the kitchen, they saw Helen busy working at the stove. She looked up at them when they entered, and said, "It's over there on the kitchen table, along with the owl that sent it." Harry looked rather confused.

"The owl that sent it? Why is it still here? I thought an owl would return to its owner once it delivered its message."

"Well, I suppose that may be the case, but this owl didn't fly off because it's - " Helen was cut off by Hermione's loud cry,

"Hedwig! What happened to you!" Harry felt dizzy, and promptly his legs gave out, sending him dropping to the floor, landing painfully on his knees.

"Harry, are you all right? What's the matter?" Helen was now on the ground in front of Harry, but Harry wasn't responding. Harry didn't see Helen, the Granger kitchen, or anything else before him. He was watching a memory, a horrible memory. He was climbing to his feet after being hit on the back of the head. He looked up and saw Vernon with a rifle in his hands, taking careful aim. He rushed at his uncle, his last-ditch effort to stop him. BANG! The rifle went off before he had even moved two steps. Harry turned his head to look out the window, and saw Hedwig falling, falling, falling . . . .

Next, as if bursting from a dam, memories began flooding forth, visions of pain, toil, and nightmares. The sound of a belt whipping through the air . . . the crackling of fire consuming a broom . . . a blow was aimed at his head; he couldn't move . . . his uncle's loud voice, insulting him and his family as He beat him . . . Ron, bound to a chair . . . Hermione, hanging from manacles . . . screams of pain and misery . . . Sirius' face, his voice echoing loudly, "You killed me, you stood by and did nothing . . . it's all your fault . . . you're to blame!" Darkness began to appear, slowly blocking Harry's vision. The noises began to fade, and soon all he could hear was Hermione's faint voice echoing in the distance.

*****

"Harry? Harry! Harry, can you hear me?" Hermione's panicky voice was soft and sounded far away. Slowly, Harry opened his eyes to find Hermione leaning over him. As soon as she saw he was awake, Hermione swooped in upon him, wrapping her arms tightly around him, burying her head in his chest, and breaking out in a fresh wave of tears.

"H-Harry, I was s-s-so worried ab-bout you! Y-You sc-scared me to d-d-death!" Hermione managed to squeeze out through her sobs. Harry moved his arms to capture Hermione in a hug, and found that he was crying, too. In a shaky voice, Harry said,

"H-Hermione? I - I remember. I remember everything. It - it - it's terrible. I - " Harry's breath hitched in his throat; he could no longer control himself, and he broke down as well.

"H-Harry? I-in your letter, y-you told me everything. E-everything they did to you. Harry, I'm so sorry. I - I am to blame. I - I acted selfishly, I overreacted. I shouldn't have s-sent the Howler. Please, forgive me. I - I abandoned you." As she finished, she broke down anew. All Harry could do in response was to hold her closer. His mind was still reeling from all the images of his past two weeks. He felt dizzy, nauseous, terrified, angry, and tired.

Slowly, the sobs slowed and turned to sniffs, which eventually passed entirely. All that was left was a very emotionally drained Harry and Hermione. Slowly, Hermione sat up, wiping her tear-streaked face. "Harry, I-I'm sorry. If only I had known . . . oh, you must hate me for sure. What kind of friend turns her back on . . ." was as far as Hermione got before she let out a small hiccough as well as a few more tears.

"Hermione, I don't hate you. I could never hate you. I just - I just can't loose you." Harry closed his eyes. "I've seen you die so many times, in my dreams, so many ways . . . I can't let that happen. I won't." At this Harry looked at Hermione, and she could see a fiery glow in his eyes, which quickly passed back into a look of exhaustion.

"Harry, I th-think we've both worn ourselves out," Hermione said with a weak chuckle that came out as more of a half-sob. "Let's go to sleep. I'm just so tired . . ." Hermione stood up to leave.

"Hermione, wait. Please don't go. I - I can't bear to be alone. Please?"

"For you, anything Harry," Hermione said as she walked back over and crawled onto the bed next to Harry. "Rest, now, Harry. You n-need it. I'll be right here." As Hermione said this, Harry wrapped his arm around hers, and whispered, "Thank you." Within minutes, he was asleep. Resting her head back, Hermione once again thought of Harry's desperate letter and all that had happened to him. `How could Dumbledore have let this happen? I will never forgive him for it!' With that last thought, Hermione drifted off to sleep, both her and Harry still both fully clothed and on top of the sheets.

A/N: Okay, so how many people saw that coming? I hope that pleases a lot of you out there. The next chapter will deal once more with Dumbledore, so give me a bit to get it out! Thanks for reading, now leave me a review!!


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